Life in Jamestown

So the best part about quitting your job and buying a one way ticket to a new country is that when you arrive, there is nothing, I mean nothing, tying your schedule down. "Wo ye free" as they say here, and boy did I welcome this new found feeling at the start of my adventure. Lucky for me, Sharifah has been in the game for about 8 months now so she has a little more of a routine going. In the time that she has been here, she has built a successful repertoire as a budding videographer. What does that mean? She makes videos y'all, and she's pretty darn good at it. Her growing success in a market that is still growing here means that she is usually the first one people call when they need videos made. I had the pleasure of accompanying her during one of her gigs my first week.

In all my past trips to Ghana I never got the opportunity to spend much time here in Accra so every trip I took in the beginning my head was half way out the window admiring all the sites. To be real though, it still is a lot of the time.

Told you so!

Sharifah's assignment was to shoot a intro/informational video for a new NGO working with a Jamestown school. She lured me in by telling me I would be getting to see the beach, but trust, it was far from a bikinis and beers kinda day. Jamestown is one of the oldest districts in Accra, an area also commonly referred to as "British Accra" due to their heavy presence centuries ago. It is a fishing town, and sadly most recently is a highly neglected seaside community. Regardless, it is still a big tourist attraction- you can't deny the beauty of the beaches, characteristic lighthouse, or the old forts.

 

(images courtesy of google)

Our destination was short walk away from the main road. When we got there, it was lunchtime and the kids were feasting on white rice and stew, a staple here. For those of you who know me, you know that I wasting no time getting chummy with all the little kids-mind you, some of them were not too shy either. So you know how excited kids get when you give them a toy, or candy, or any other object of their desire? Pair that with the excitement/greed that overcomes them when they know that object can be theirs, no sharing required. That my friend, is exactly what happened when Sharifah pulled out her camera. These kids may not have a lot, but by golly they have full knowledge of what a camera is, and what it means. The posing was priceless!!! The pushes, shoves, and tripping over each other I could have done without. As Sharifah struggled to get some good shots, (the kids would not stay still-everyone wanted a piece of the limelight!) I played referee and instructed, and at times reprimanded, the kids in Twi to the best of my ability.

We spent about 15 minutes outside before we were taken inside the school to get a good look. When I say school, I mean one large room with portable partitions to divide the different age levels. We witnessed three. The youngest group, and most populous, took up one third and spent their time learning, drawing, and naming various shapes. I was too consumed with the two 1.5 (ish?) yr olds battling it out over toys in the back. The girl took the trophy for that match I can you that. The kids ranged in age from about 4-7. The next "class" was the 8-12 year olds who were busy doing algebra. The last group, was age 12 and up. They were working on multiplying, dividing, etc. powers. I patted myself on the back for being able to solve one or two.

*pics to come.

Sharifah wanted to get a few shots of the surrounding area so we were escorted by one of the teachers to the waterside. He gave me a little rundown of his history and told me a bit more about the school. I was more than impressed by his work and dedication to the kids. He told me about seeing many of the kids in the community just hanging around and convincing them to come to his school instead. I don't think it was possible to admire him more after he told me that. My western "ticks" were kicking in, and I needed to return to some A/C  shade so we headed back to pick up our things from the school. I don't know where this little firecracker was hiding all day but her timing was impeccable. I noticed her when she thought it would be funny to slap my butt- she's lucky she was so cute. She spent the last 20 minutes of my visit antagonizing me with sticks and just flat out hitting me. I can't say I wasn't having a good time. After a day of "learning" and and writing the kids' english names on their chalkboards it was time to head out, my fragile American skin had had enough of the scorching West African sun. I unfortunately spent too much time enjoying the kids and not enough documenting it. Luckily, Sharifah did so I will be following up with more pics from the day. Until then, let me leave you with Sharifah's final product, a beaut if you ask me. I know they're accepting donations so if any of you are feeling generous....yeah you get it. NO PRESSURE.  checkkk it outtttt. you don't wanna miss it. I HAVE A CAMEO and also yes, I want to show you, that "dis is ghana."

The Noyaa Association shot and edited by Sharifah Issaka March 2013.


peace & fufu
Ohemaa J

Making Moves

My first few days in Ghana were a blur of sleep, heat, showers, lack of power, and (not that I'm complaining) lack of appetite. Coming from New York, this was a welcome change since the cold seemed to make me want to eat, all the time. It wasn't long before I started getting ants in my pants. Kumasi is great and all, and hanging out with the parents is more great...yeah.... but considering my past visits to Ghana were never for more than a month, it's safe to say that I never really built a life here. My jet-lag had me waking up at the butt crack of dawn and to pass the first, and longest, hours of the day I found myself going on long walks around the "neighborhood." I never really thought I was walking for that long but each time I got back home it was a minimum of two hours later. The early mornings are the best time to exercise because you're fresh from a full night of sleep and the breeze here is to die for. I'm also learning, time and time again, that every time I find my 1st world attitudes kicking in, or any inkling of discomfort, all I have to do is step outside, literally. There is ALWAYS someone around or something going on. Ghanaians are some of the happiest, most the animated people you will EVER meet and there will be many more instances in this blog that confirm this statement.

My parents house in Atasamanso ( Ah-tah-sa-mon-su) is in the wealthy part of the city, or supposedly. Kumasi,and many other areas of Ghana are not like LA, or NYC though where entire neighborhoods are known for their wealth. It's not like Pacific Palisades, Beverly Hills, or the Upper East Side where you can guess with almost 100% certainty that those hailing from these areas are much more well off than others. Next to some of the nicest houses springing up here, you can still have multiple families living out of what many of us would consider a shack. So you can only imagine my surprise when on one of my walks, just 10 minutes down the road, I came across a bustling town. "Rich areas" here are simply ones in which those whom are able to buy land and build big houses. From word of mouth, or general awareness, others also seek out land in these same areas. Property and land prices go up and voila, you have a desired area. I remember being here 11 years ago and reacting every time I saw a big house but eh, chale, let me tell you, now I only react when I see ones that are bigger than the house I plan to build here.

I have to tell you all now that staring is something you just get used to here. Obviously, I look "different," and my running shorts and big tees were probably a sure-fire give away, but in our culture here, if you wanna look by golly you can. No one knows it to be rude like in other parts of the world but of course, I near took offense the first few times it happened here. Lesbihonest though, who wouldn't want to stare at me? After 4 days of walking, and sleeping, and more walking and sleeping, and maybe a little bit of my inability to live under my parents' roof after so many years away, I decided it was time to head straight into the belly of the beast: ACCRA. I hit up Sharifah on her celly, I kid you not, a day before my anticipated arrival and told her to warn the masses. I spent the morning of my departure packing only my finest in preparation for my fabulous life ahead. I don't know who I thought, and maybe still think, I'm going to become in Ghana but my wardrobe would tell you otherwise. I opted to take the V.I.P bus ( Big, red, foreigner owned bus line decked out with leather seats, that recline, WAY too much A/C, and more ghana movies than you can imagine.) which was the same way I had come to Kumasi in the first place. I forgot to tell you all one of the best experiences of my first V.I.P bus ride when I initially arrived. Apparently, from time to time, Priests are allowed to board the buses at the station. About 10-20 minutes into your ride they get up and start preaching, I kid you not, in Twi, for anything from one hour to the whole five hour ride. Our Priest was kind enough to cut it off after the first hour. I've never been so mad at myself for not having headphones in my bag, And I hope he still included me in his prayers even though he may have seen me covering my ears ( just because it was loud, I promise :) My sister is gonna kill me when she reads this.And actually, maybe my brother now too. #heathens-r-us

Some highlights/learning points from his praise.
1) When the priest goes "hello" the audience should all reply "hiiiiiiii".  2) "Amen" is the same in Twi church and English church. 3) When you think the Priest is done, he is not. Clapping will only encourage. 4) You CAN make a killing as a traveling preacher; whether you convert it from cedis to dollars or not. I wish I had a picture for you all, or a video. Next time. Religion, Christianity more specifically, is HUGE here. Like huge. and everywhere. Going to church is a big deal, and quite celebrated. Even those who don't really have the means will always find a way to look their finest come Sunday service.

I've decide that this blog will, and should,  also be used as an introduction to my father, Mr. Kwame Manu Acheampong, for those of you have not been fortunate enough to meet my old man. He is not a character, he is THE character. And between his words of advice and his rules, he is nothing short of entertaining- now that I'm older of course.

Now, I must stress to you all that my traveling outfit for that day was cute. I thought so at the time but thinking back now it's questionable. I was going for casual, comfortable, cute- the three c's. (okay, maybe didn't hit the third 'c' this time but the comfortable and casual was all there) I was decked out in red, lace leggings (lace is so hot right now) and an oversized US Trojans Women's Soccer T-shirt ( soccer or die right?) I also must add that I know EXACTLY what my dad is like, and thus what will  and won't fly. My dad has always been more strict if  you will about my style of dress; "Dress modestly," "Cover your chest," (which also means the entire area below your neck) "Respect Yourself." All good and well, yes. Skirts and dresses should be past the knees and clothing should not hug the figure. This last point is what got me that day i.e. the leggings. Let me also add that my dad had seen/interacted with me for at least 3 hours before my departure. But of course, it was not until I had walked out the front door, literally,that he demanded, " Is that what you're wearing?" Me: "Yes" Dad: "I'm not happy with it at all.Wear what you were wearing yesterday "i.e. he wanted me to change. I'll save you the rest and just leave you with the images below.

3 'C's

Daddy is pleased

Don't judge me, or perhaps you should. Not only was I modestly covered, but no way in hell anyone would be looking at me in that outfit, and if they were it was cuz I looked like a fool. I consoled myself with the thought that I wouldn't be seeing anyone I knew.

 The foundation of Ghanaian culture, and that of most African nations is respect. A child should ALWAYS respect their elders, and their parents the most. I grew up saying "Yes, Dad" and "Yes, Mom" instead of just yes. If you forgot, my parents would keep calling your name you until you remembered, hey- less you forget who it was that was calling you. So being back under Dad's roof, and in Ghana, my level of respect was running high. He wanted me to change, I did. I'll admit, I tend to get a bit uppity when I'm away from my parents in the states and know that I can not be scolded in person. When we arrived at the bus station it was a race to see who would win the right to carry my luggage from the car to the bus. If you come to Ghana, I don't think you'll ever complain about lack of hospitality when your're traveling. Being a porter, at a bus station, is a self-made job here. You win the customer's luggage, you get the tip. Ladies, you'll be sure to win a few suitors in the process as well. I had three, but who's counting. One was even kind enough to sing/rap to me through the window as I sat on the bus. Ghana Hospitality.

The bus ride went as smoothly as 5.5 hours in the same spot can go. No preacher this time, shame. Sharifah advised me to get off at the first main stop, Achimota (Ah-chi-mo-ta) and I was met by a melee of drivers eager to deliver me and my stuff to our destination. Lucky for me I'm cheap and I called Sharifah to ask how much the cab ride should be. ALWAYS have an idea of your trip rate here, if not you will be cheated-o. My Obruni accent causes me to fall victim many times as well. No surprise at all that my driver initially quoted double the fare, but between him talking to Sharifah on the phone and me getting out of the taxi insisting I would not go, the driver and I reached a price we were both happy with-him more than me.

I arrived at he Issaka palace at about 6 pm. Sharifah showed me around and escorted me to my room (guest room all to myself-YUP). My jet-lag was kicking in so I decided to nap. No rest for the weary, my lovely host had a big night out planned for me. We took a taxi to our first destination in the most bustling part of Accra called Osu. It's where  most foreigners live and the majority of the bars, restaurants, and clubs are. I got to meet a few of Sharifah's friends, one of which was nice enough to drive us around in his BEAUTIFUL Mercedes-Benz- no complaints here.We ended up going to three separate bars. They were all a little on the empty side but its forgiven, it was a Wednesday after all. The end of the night was my favorite though, we ended up at Chase, a Lebanese restaurant. There are a LOT of Lebanese people in Ghana. After moving out of Saudi 6 years ago, I've searched high and low for a good, authentic, Middle Eastern tasting Shawarma. You would think between LA and NYC I would have found one. NOPE. Low and behold all I had to do was head to Ghana. My taste buds have seriously never been so happy, and I should have ordered two lol. Lucky for me, Sharifah captured it. Lucky for you, you get to share in my Miss Piggy moment.

We arrived to home to a house shrouded in darkness but with the light from my phone and fully charged fans, I wasn't too upset. It had been a successful first and I fell asleep thinking if this is ghana, I can surely get used to it.

Stay tuned for more,
Peace and fufu,
Ohenebaa J ( Queen J)

"AKWABAA"- Welcome

PSA: THIS BLOG WILL BE CANDID. Would you expect anything else, really? You want the details, you will get them. This is for all the times I was silent, and you wished I would speak; Didn't pick up my phone, and you wished I would call back; said I would be there, and arrived 3 hours late; most importantly, you thought you knew where I was in the world and you didn't. Here it is y'all. ENJOY.


After a quick one day jaunt in London, I arrived in Accra bright and early, 30 minutes prior to anticipated arrival at a lively 5 AM. Customs went by quickly, and I didn't wait more than 20 minutes for my bags to arrive, all 5 of them. After befriending one of the porters, I was led straight through the bag check. Standard fare usually has it that  your bags are all checked once you've collected them. Those found attempting to enter the country with mass amounts of materials, presumed to be sold, or other illegals, are in trouble-o.

Lucky for me Sharifah, what a doll, had come to the airport to meet me, or rather the many items I had so graciously brought for her from the states. Seeing her was a site for sore eyes, and not just because she still had on her makeup from the night before. As we say in Ghana, "you get me right?" The humidity was, and is, still a lot to get to used to but waking up to sunlight everyday is doing wonders for my S.A.D

The heat here is CRAY. you get used to constantly being bathed in a layer of your own sweat. I've never appreciated Air Conditioning so much. After meeting up with Sharifah I got on a 5.5 hour bus to Kumasi, where my family is from. I was on the bus by 7:30 and home by 1 pm. I'm pretty sure I slept from like 3-8, and again from 10-7. Jet-lag is a bitch but it was good to be back in Kwame Acheampong's palace and great to see the rents.

The next day, I went to "4 miles" my dad's family house to see all the little cousins. This is how that excursion ended up. The cutie with the nip slip is my dad's great niece, and my second cousin, " Ma Adwoa" and homeboy in the red who stole my stunna shades is her hilarious, sassy, big brother ( guess it runs in the fam) Homie in the black shirt, I don't wanna pick favorites, but is SO cute and so funny. We call him "Nana Sarpong" but his "obruni (oh-brew-knee- white)" name is Dixon but it should be swagga masta cuz boy does he have a lot. LOL.

They're SO cute. They were so excited and gave me the biggest hugs when they saw me. I brought them colored pencils, markers, and stickers and they could not have been happier. Little things. It was fun seeing what shapes and colors they knew and hearing Ma Adwoa tell me she wants me to give her a relaxer because the kids at school make fun of her hairstyles and call her "bofruit" ( A round, fried pastry" ) I told her natural, nappy, hair is beautiful and over my dead body would she be getting a relaxer.

When we left my dad took me to his father's old house that they rent out for dirt cheap, the equivalent of 4 dollars a month, because we don't need the space. I LOVE it when my people look at me and assume I don't speak Twi. Even better, was the group of kids who gathered when I arrived. Maybe the fact that I greeted them with "hi" instead of the usual Twi greeting set them off. Or maybe it was my large striped hat. Regardless, I heard them making fun of my hat and talking about how they had never seen one so big. Boy were they surprised when they found out I understood everything they were saying!

Because of the extreme heat in Ghana even the smallest of outings can wear you out so I was pooped by the time I got back home. if you ever end up visiting me in Ghana, however, this is probably where you'll end up and this is where I'll be when I'm not in the capital, Accra, at the "KP," Kwame Palace.

It's not bad. And it's equipped with every picture of me from the last 24 years that is not on facebook. I'll be sure to upload some of these treasures soon.

To all those that I did not get a chance to tell that I was leaving, my apologies, it was all so last minute and those of you who know me know how I can get. Please excuse the lack of communication as well. Ghana is going through a bit of an energy crisis since an explosion on one of our main pipelines back in Nov. They're working on it. And things have gotten a lot better since I've gotten here. Starting to get used to the "light offs" as we call them here. At the end of the day, I gotta remember, THIS IS GHANA.

stay tuned for more,
peace and fufu,
jbaby