36 HOURS IN KUMASI

There are more posts that I think of writing, then those that actually get written.

The day that my phone got lifted from me in Kumasi was something that I wanted to write about. The evening before, I arrived in Kumasi after my bus showed up three hours late. I used the time in the internet cafe, so that was fine, but I really want to share my suggestions with STC (that's the government bus company) for some improvements. My idea is simple, which is not to book buses to leave at the same time that they are expected to arrive. There should be a few hours for the bus to be checked over, for the engine to rest and as a cushion for delays (which constantly occur).

Anyhow, meeting me at the Kumasi STC station (which I have become fairly familiar with) was Nuri-Haque (aka Bush Doctor...not sure about why he has that name). We were both really happy to see each other. From the station we made our way across the city to his brother's house which is right beside the Ashanti Palace. Like the White House in the US, the Royal Palace in all of it's majesty is surrounded by people living in much harsher conditions. The house of Nuri-Haque's brother (senior brother) is part of a low-rise tenament building on a hill. The front door brings you directly into the living room equipped with three couches, a couple of chairs facing a television and a computer set along the wall to the right. There is a door across the room that is straight ahead of the front entrance, which leads into the second hall of the living quarters. When you enter this door, there is a fairly wide hallway shaped like an 'L'. The hallway is occupied with a large table, a fridge, some cupboards, a coal fire pot, and a bathroom style sink. With all of these items, the hallway is still spacious. The hallway is lined with doors: two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom.

When I arrived, it was 'lights out' in that area of the city. We sat around talking about the news, Ghanian politics, and the state of the globe. Not long after my arrival, the power was turned back on in the area, and our conversation continued with a background of the GTV (government station) news and the two children in the house (an 8 year old girl and a 12 year old boy) playing Mortal Kombat. The rest of the family is Nuri-Haque's brother's wife and his younger sister (about 22) who is training to be a nurse.

The original plan was to relax at the house for a short time then head over to the house where Jayme stays with a French Diplomat named Christoph. However, after some insistance from the family, I agreed to stay there for the evening and would head over to Jayme and Christoph's place the next night.

After some dinner and relaxing, it was time to sleep. Nuri-Haque and I shared a pretty large bed, but did not sleep for a couple of hours as we were talking about so many thoughts about life: why we struggle, where favour comes from, God's will, remaining thankful, astronomy and the sun...and so on.

In the previous days I had watched - in full - the speeches given at the UN in New York by American President George Bush and Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. In my thoughts was growing divide between the Western Alliance led by the US whose Commander in Cheif has declared that eradicting Islamic Extremists from the planet is the calling of our generation, and the insistance of President Ahmadinejad to resist this agenda. Without getting into an analysis of this situation (which has been on my mind), I felt a deep warmth come over me at the moment that we were sharing. I have rarely developed such a deep connection with someone so quickly, and we both understand eachother and inspire eachother to be our best. From a distance, you could see a Christian-Canadian-of European descent and a Muslim-Northern Ghanian of African descent. If you are to take the geo-political temperature of this very moment, or to do a historical diagnosis of human interaction and conflict and apply it here, we represent such extreme divisions. The reality, though, is at this time in each of our lives, there are very few people who are as close one another and relate as well as we do. That, like Malcom X's (or El Hajj Malik El Shabaz's) Mecca Moment where he saw what he had known as impenetable divisions moving in harmony, is cause for hope. For me, it is by no means a new revelation, just a pleasent reminder.

That next morning, we treked across Kumasi (through the traffic, exhaust fumes and the constant bustle of sellers and hustlers) to the hospital where Nuri-Haque's sister is doing her nursing training. The walk brough back memories of being in Kumasi with Pierette (who I know from Toronto and had just come to Ghana from Kenya on her way back to Canada) and doing our 'see Kumasi in one afternoon' attempt. The hospital was a familiar site as it is the location of the famous Ashanti sword (like the sword in the stone) that is said to have been planted by a mystic who declared it's removal would bring an end to the unity of the Ashanti nation (the Ashanti Kingdom is centred in Kumasi). We were going there to find a physiotherapist to massage my shoulder which was feeling extremely tense (people don't really do massages in Ghana). Upon our arrival we found out that it would not be possible until Tuesday (that was a Friday), at which point I would be in Tamale.

We let that idea go and headed over to the Kumasi Cultural Centre. We walked that beautiful grounds and checked out the library, but it was being renovated and was a mess. Beside the cultural centre is the Kumasi Zoo, so I agreed to Nuri-Haque's idea of going to visit. That was not a pleasent experience. Most of the animals were alone in their cages. Strangely, with three of the four species of monkeys, they reached out their hand to me as if I had something for them after I had made eye contact with them. They didn't do this with any of the other visitors around us, even those that offered them there hands. One of them eventually was disappointed that I did not give him (or her?) my water bottle and turned his (or her) back to me.

The lions were in rough shape too. Any zebra or giraffe in the wild would make these 'kings of the jungle' look like sissies. There was one male and two females in a cage that was really large enough for a couple of monkeys. The male lion showed a bit of life when he repeatedly roared and leaped towards some children that got too close for his comfort.

The rest of the zoo had some snakes in cages the size of a TV box, some birds, a few more monkeys, a couple of turtles (one ocean turtle that was in what looked like a goldfish pond), a pair of crocodiles that had one wall of their cage partially broken, and a number of empty exhibits that were given the same explanation - 'it died'.

The trees at the zoo were also full of bats (hundreds of them), which was kind of freaky. I felt really bad for those animals, and I wanted to go back and give that monkey my water bottle (which I didn't because I didn't want to get in trouble...not like anyone would really care though). As we left the zoo, I turned back and saw a swarm of hundreds of bats swirling in what looked like a black cloud.

With Nuri-Haque having to attend classes that afternoon, we headed towards his school. As we walked I began to feel similar symptoms to what I was feeling before, so I went to a hotel in the area and ate some pasta and relaxed to the Chelsea vs Liverpool match.

That evening, after Nuri-Haque's classes is when my phone got stolen. Everyone at the house was worried, but I encouraged them not to stress it. At that point, I was going to head over to see Jayme and Christpoh who were hosting a small dinner party, and had invited me to stay the night before leaving for Tamale. It was not wasy to leave as I had really gotten along well with the family. I definately plan to go back and visit (we had played some board games and I told them stories about my travels in Ghana that had them laughing).

At that point it was dark and I had to find this place that I only had a street for. The taxi driver seemed unsure, but after some strain I recognized the compound (by God's grace as it identical to the ten that surround it) and went inside.

That evening, we ate lasanga, cake, chocolate and drank red wine with our dinner. The guests were all European (some French, some Germans, and three Canadians - including a Newfie!). It was a memorable experience realizing that this was the most white people that I had been around in a long time! What drew my attention to that was the conversation at the table which kept on taking on the tone of "they do this...they don't have that...have you noticed this" in reference to Ghanians. The range of experience in Ghana at the table was from a couple of weeks to a couple of years. I mostly listened to the conversation, but I wondered what the Ghanian man who played the role of chef/server/househelp thought of the converstaion as he came to and from the balcony that we were eating on.

After dinner, we sat around and tried to figure out various riddles. I am not a fan of riddles, but I gave it a try.

One of them asked: 'A blind man went from city 'a' to city 'b' on a train. On his way back when the train entered the tunnel, he shot himself'. Why?

If you are trying to figure it out, I will warn you that I am writing the answer now...he went to be cured of his blindness, and thought that he had become blind again when he entered the tunnel on the way back, so he shot himself. Who would'a thunk it???

While they continued to talk, I went inside and fell asleep to the sounds of "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill". I woke up with the guests all gone and Jayme showing me to my room for the night. I slept well and enjoyed a hot shower in the morning (that does not happen often in Ghana...so I stayed in there for about 20 minutes).

Before anyone woke up, I was off in a taxi to the STC station. On the way, we got stopped by the police and teh taxi driver and his car were seized as he had no liscense. Great! The police found me another taxi, and I made it on time for my late and downgraded (from luxury - which is not that luxurious - to basic -which is basic!). Would you believe that the taxi driver that was arrested came up to the new taxi that I was in and requested that I pay him. "For what?", I asked.

And that, was my 36 hours in Kumasi.