As I woke up after my first full night’s sleep, a light misty rain enveloped Kumasi. Between the gray sky and the lush green forest surrounding the hotel, I had a moment of nostalgia for Seattle, though the cities are quite different. Kumasi is the second largest city in Ghana with a population of about 1,500,000. Like Accra there is still this reddish colored earth and lots of palm trees, but Kumasi is a lot more compact and more colorful. After a nice breakfast, I joined a few friends for morning tai-chi by the pool. It felt really good even though it did start to rain again and the hotel was blaring cheesy 80s music.
At 9am, everyone was on the bus and ready to go except this one guy. We couldn’t find him anywhere. Turns out he overslept. That set us back a whole hour. This meant we didn’t have time to go to the Cultural Arts Center. I wasn’t particularly surprised, since we have yet to actually follow the schedule all the way through even one entire day, but I was bummed because that was the place I was most looking forward to seeing again. We did go to a crafts village I hadn't been to where they make cloth and stamp it with Adinkra symbols…you can make your own stole or whatever. It was fun and there were lots of chickens running around. I know this probably shouldn't be novel, but I find them very interesting. There were also lots of children so I was able to give away those pens that my school donated for just such an occassion. It felt good to be able to give them something. Everyday I see kids out walking around and many of them ask me for money, but I feel uncomfortable giving because if you give to one you have to give to everyone and they swarm you...it's overwhelming and energetically exhausting.
After the symbol stamping place, we went to the woodcarving village which was also cool, but also overwhelming. Everywhere we go we have our own entourage of high pressure sales people. “Sister, come to my shop.” “Sister, I give you best price.” After a few times of navigating the gauntlet, it’s hard to feel sisterly. I bought two super cute purses and a few gifts for friends and family, then I got back on the bus and watched the show from comfort of being on the other side of a glass barrier. It definitely brings new meaning to the term window shopping. If you even glance at a shirt or a dress, the vendor starts showing you their entire collection. Then if they run out of good they call their cousin and he undoubtedly has a whole other bag of goods. I am spending too much money, but everything is so beautiful. After shopping and wandering around, we got back in the bus and headed to Assin Manso to begin our journey towards Elmina and Cape Coast.
We arrived shortly before sunset. Though I visited the Castles last year, I didn’t stop in Assin Manso. It’s about 65 miles away from the Castles and that’s where captives were marched and bathed at the fork of two rivers. One is called the River Ochi…or the Drowning River and the other is called the Slave River. We got off the bus and filed into an open courtyard bordered by thick yellow walls. Along the entry way there were several large portraits of various people generally believed to be important in the liberation of the Diaspora: Fredrick Douglas, Sojourner Truth, WEB Du Bois, Toussaint L’Ouverture, Martin Luther King, Marcus Garvey, Malcolm X, Kwame Nkruma, and etc. On the other wall was a long mural depicting the story of the slave trade as well as a doorway leading to a narrow path through the forest. On either side there were small rooms that served as a kind of museum/ ceremonial station and in the center of the grass were two graves…they were apparently the bodies of people who were sold into slavery and later died in the US and Jamaica respectively. Years later they were returned to be buried on Ghanaian soil. After praying in…which means saying a grounding prayer to help us fully be present in the moment, and present with spirit, we walked through the doorway and down the narrow path our ancestors had traveled. Our guide, Mensah, recounted the story of the captives who would be making this trek. He showed us the shackles, the ball and chain. He explained that many of these people had been caught in the interior of Africa and made to walk literally hundreds of miles chained together before arriving at the rivers.
As we walked down the path, to the left was a small kind of neighborhood. People actually live right by the river. Children were playing. A lady was sitting outside of her house and waving us over to come talk to her. Once at the clearing you could see quickly which river was which. The Ochi is quick moving. Even though it wasn’t that high, you could imagine with more rain that it could quickly become dangerous. The Slave River was almost stagnant and brown. I began wondering if we were going to see any snakes. It looked like the kind of place they would hang out. Mensah explained how many people after making that trek had lost hope that they would be able to escape and sought refuge by intentionally throwing themselves into the fast moving currents of the other river. The thing is, since captives were often shackled together, a suicide attempt could also lead to an accidental homicide. It’s definitely haunted ground.
There were so many of us we couldn’t form one circle, so we formed circles around circles (which incidentally resembles the shape of the adinkra symbol for leadership) and held hands. Somehow I ended up in the center with the elders of the Agape church. There is one woman, Ricki BB’s mother, who talked about knowing the story of her ancestors. She says her family made this exact trek and that she was coming back to bring them peace. She gave a ground shaking prayer. Then someone started to sing “While I run this race”. And then we were all singing…there is a lot of singing and prayer on this trip, which is awesome. To be a part of this kind of collective consciousness is really a very powerful and healing experience.
We made our way back onto the bus and rode the last hour into the Cape Coast area. While our hotel in Kumasi was probably the most banging in terms of the actual rooms, the hotel we’re staying at for the next two nights here is right on the ocean and absolutely heavenly. We had dinner in a gazebo overlooking the ocean. It was balmy and the night air was refreshing. Afterwards I ended up hanging out with Kathy and Tiffany until late into the evening. We laughed and got to know one another. Turns out Tiff and I have a mutual friend living in the Bay Area. I guess it’s a small world. The conversation was so good, I forgot to be tired.
When I woke up this morning, the sun was finally shining. No drizzle, no gray skies, just spectacular blue. I had breakfast with my roomy. There are no vendor allowed on the hotel grounds, but apparently the beach is free game so before I’d even gotten my juice this guy Quincy was unloading his wares and giving me a fashion show. I didn’t buy anything, but it was fun to look. After breakfast we did tai chi on the beach. It was so gorgeous. I don’t think many Ghanaians are into tai chi though, the ones walking past us on their way to work kept looking at us like we were crazy. Again, I can’t stress enough how gorgeous this beach is. The sand is like brown sugar and the water is clear and warm. After tai chi Kathy and I ran around in circles kicking up wave. I soaked the bottom of my wrap skirt, but it was cool because as soon as I got on the bus wearing blue Penda was digging in her bag for some extra white clothing. Jo (the trip organizer) made the request that we wear all white, but I didn’t have anything. I’m just traveling with the backpack for now, my suitcase is in Accra.
So Penda found a dress for me and I changed on the bus before any of the men got on. Some of my Agape sisters formed a circle around me and Alice B. helped me get my arms through the straps. It sounds like a simple thing…it is a simple thing…but it felt like an acceptance. Even though I’ve never set foot in the Agape Church, it’s like I’m already a member. If the elders need something… a soup spoon, help bargaining…they ask me. Yesterday some lady (whose name I didn’t even know at the time) asked me if she could borrow 10 cedis (Ghana’s currency). I gave it to her and when she got her money changed she joked about me being her loan officer…but then afterwards she kissed my cheek and told me I was pretty special because why else would she have felt comfortable enough to ask. Then earlier today one of the younger Agape sisters pulled me aside and asked me to sing with her.
Around 9am, we all piled on the bus. No one was late this time. We drove through the city, which is pretty gorgeous…lots of palm trees, white buildings, miles of pure coast line, and in contrast every color imaginable on the little stands and on the women. I can’t get enough of people watching. Everyone is so gorgeous and they totally set the bar in terms of Fashion. Paris ain’t got nothing on Ghana when it comes to colors, patterns and variety of styles.
We entered Cape Coast Castle and it was the same as I remembered, white walls and black iron cannons, stairs going up and down. Of the two castles, I prefer Elmina, partly because it is smaller, but also because all the shops are outside. In Cape Coast there is a little shopping pavilion, as well as a very glossy museum. It feels sacrilegious to me that people are selling trinkets and capitalizing off of the tragedy that took place…welcome back sister…buy some kente. Jo argues that this is the heart of the local economy and that the castle is a good place to find tourist with money, but it still pisses me off. Mensah seemed to agree with me…side note: after dinner, a group of women and I hung out with Mensah for a while. He is seriously dope. In addition to really knowing the history, he is one of the few tour guides I’ve met who actually talks about his feelings and his perspective…most guides seem to try to keep it neutral…though actually on this trip everyone has been a lot more honest. I think it’s that Agape mind meld happening.
We all crowded into the front room of the museum to watch a movie about the slave trade. It was a very abbreviated roots, that ended up with a interesting segment comparing Africans to African Americans. The tape itself (and I do mean tape…like VHS) was hella old and kind of flickered, but the film was interesting. Afterwards many people went through the museum. I didn’t go a second time. Instead I climbed to the top of the Castle and sat on the wall facing the sea to ground myself and to meditate. I gave thanks for my life and for the freedom I’ve been able to experience and I gave thanks especially to all the people who helped me to make this journey, financially, spiritually, and emotionally. It is such a blessing to be here. From the wall I could see the fishing boats. Cape Coast is fishing community and apparently (according to Mensah) men love the women from this area because they fish as well and are usually very wealthy.
After it hurt to much to sit still any longer, I wandered back down to chat with Alice B, Jo, and Mensah. We waited for people to get out of the museum, then as a full group we did the tour. I debated not doing it, having the ready excuse of having done it before, but I went and I’m glad I did.
Ishmael Tete of the Etherian Mission joined us, as well as Rev Michael, back from his convo with the VP. We crowded inside the dank dark cells. The floors were uneven so we all had to help each other in. I began to cry almost as soon as I entered the dungeon. I can’t explain to you the deep sorrow that exist there…the restless souls I guess, still crying, still mourning the tragedy that has never full been repared. Then we prayed and sang. Rev Michael spoke to us about how we are the answered prayers of our ancestors, how the freedom we live in every day honors them, how they are returned through us and can now rest. At one point I ended up next to Brother Tete. When he held my hand and began to pray, I could literally feel the energy of his words surge through me. It was the most palpable healing I’ve ever experienced…and it kind of freaked me out. But it was also an amazing moment. We breathed OM and the entire vibration of the room change. Something was released and though I cried my way through the rest of the cells and out through the Door of No Return, I felt lighter. It was a completely different experience than the last time. I also got up the courage to approach one of the elders about energy. Her name is Caroline and she says she would like to work with me.
After Cape Coast, we decided not to go to Elmina…the healing that needed to happen had already taken place. We went into the city, stopping to exchange more money, then came back to the hotel for some rest. After lunch Rev Michael and Brother Tete held a circle dialogue, but I didn’t end up staying for the whole thing. What threw me off was that the first person to speak about their experience was a white man…I guess I realized that there are still several more healings that need to take place for me in order for that slight of privilege not to sting so much. It is interesting being in a mixed group and being in the majority. You can tell some of the white people, all hippy and liberal and woo woo as they are, just aren’t super comfortable. And I’m sure they would discuss it at length (and probably did), but I am totally uninterested and unavailable for that. Several times Ricki has made comments meant to unify us as a group, which have been on point and very evolved, but my gut reactions have let me know that I still have work to do. For now though, I’m headed to the bar by the beach to have a night cap. We leave for Accra in the morning.
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