Good Lord Ghana is hot. I have never sweat like that in my life. The humidity was also just insane. It may be the only place you can drink 2 gallons of water per day, and pee twice. That said, it was one of the most impactful places we have visited so far. The history between our two countries is a dark one and seeing it first hand at places like Elmina Castle was very emotionally moving. But let me back up…

Our first day was spent playing some organised soccer with local players in Takoradi. Some of them were current pro players from regional teams, but pros nonetheless. The Ghana Black Stars is the national team and in recent years have made a run at it in the World Cup. Some players had cleats and some played barefoot. It didn’t seem to matter. They were all excellent and elegant ball players. Watching them feed from the corners to the strikers was on par with watching a pro baseball players throw the ball to a base. Such amazing accuracy and finesse!

Fortunately these players were dispersed among three teams of students that rotated through in 20 min segments of playtime. We’re lucky nobody got heat stroke. 

That evening we went to a restaurant recommended by a guide on the soccer adventure. When we arrived I was mildly disappointed that it was at a hotel, but he did say the food was good. We went with a friend and her two daughters. The kids had their own table. I tried very hard to order something local but had trouble with the back and forth with our waitress, who was extremely patient. I eventually said “Just bring me something you think I would like”.  In the meantime we ordered drinks. She asked our friend what she would like and she ordered a Stella. “Large or small?”, our friend replied “Large”, to which our waitress replied “We don’t have large.” 20 min later she showed up with the drinks, it was a Star not a Stella beer for our friend and then she proceeded over to the kids table with four cans of Heineken. I guess they had ordered “Coke in a can” and that sounded enough like Heineken. Funny that she had no issue delivering a beer to an 11 year old. He is tall. I could go on but we did a lot in Ghana so I will move on…

On our second day we went to a church service in hopes of finding some good gospel music. It was not what I expected at all. Instead of a small building and a more rural congregation, we were in a huge modern building, with an excellent sound system, and congregants dressed to the nines. The choir had fourteen lead singers with microphones, another twenty or so behind them that shared five mics, a drummer, percussionist, three keyboard players, guitar, bass, and a band leader. It was insanely loud, but clear and mixed well. Apparently this was an Evangelical church but it did not seem much different from any typical church service except for the emphasis on uplifting gospel/soul music and a little more back and forth with the congregation. The preacher was charismatic and funny. I was able to record some of the service, especially the music part with my binaural headset. After church we changed and Atticus and I headed out to Busua beach with our new friends and founders of the 5Gyres Institute, Marcus, Anna and their daughter Avani. We hopped in our negotiated cab and headed for the coast. It was only 13 km away but took over an hour with all the police checkpoints, traffic and poor road conditions. Despite the heat and slow going, I liked these rides and chatting with the driver about the things we see and their culture. The townships and villages along the way were eye-opening. Rich culture, extreme poverty, shakedowns, you name it. 

At the beach we were able to rent some boards and check off a big box for me personally, which was to surf in Ghana. I’m pretty sure it was a stop in the Endless Summer movie from the ’60’s and along with getting in the water in South Africa, has been a bucket list destination. The water was lovely and the surf overhead. It made me a tad nervous to have Atty out there with me, but he was determined to surf the real thing, not just the small stuff on the inside. I remember being in over my head in surf that was too big for me when I was his age, and I lived, so I tried to help him navigate it the best I could. Of course, he got hammered by a couple juicy waves and got bonked on the head with his board and decided he didn’t want to be out there anymore. I sent him to the beach to go recover. Ten minutes later he had swapped out his shortboard for something a little easier to paddle and was catching and riding the smaller stuff on the inside by himself. I was proud of him for getting back on the horse without any prodding from my end.

After surfing, Atticus found an African drum group and its leader graciously gave him some hand drum instruction. He jammed with them for a bit, before going out to the beach and challenging about fourteen kids to MMA style fighting, with the caveat that people could tap out. It looked sort of fun, and sort of rough, but everyone was getting along and smiling (generally) so I let it continue while I played drums with the same group that Atty had previously. Rappers joined in and kids danced. It was a fun experience for sure and felt good to make some music. 

On the ride home, our driver was cranking some serious bible radio that was fairly hilarious. The host kept talking about being born again and needing to drink milk from mommy like a little baby and that they were selling bible cassette tapes. Cassettes? So hipster! More police checkpoints, more villages with no electricity and people walking everywhere in the dust kicked up and illuminated by the car headlights. It was eerily apocalyptic looking. 

Elmina is a fishing village about an hour or so from Takoradi and we spent a day there with the Chief Fisherman. He gave us an overview of his role, a tour of the city, lunched with us and then we parted ways as we headed for Elmina Castle. “Castle” makes it seem like a magical place, but unfortunately this is far from the truth. It was where millions of African slaves were brought, held, raped, and tortured before being put on ships headed to America as part of the Atlantic slave trade. The dark history shared between our two countries was intense and palpable. Being in these dungeons and walking through the “Door of no Return” was very emotional for me and the kids. I am glad that they will have been there and can now picture what these people endured when they read and study about the slave trade in the future. 

We then sailed to Tema and the whole family took off for an overnight to Maranatha, a small fishing village that is on a finger of land between the Volta River and the Atlantic Ocean. Our guides Chris and Emmanuel were both natives that had grown up in the village. We bussed to some long boats that took us to the village. Upon arrival there we had some food and then visited the Maranatha Basic School to spend some time with the local kids and help paint their school building. I took my guitar along and for the following two hours played songs and let kids try their hand at playing. What truly amazed me was how great the kids right hand rhythm was. They had trouble fingering the chords and pressing down the strings, but man could they strum. Drummers, all of them. Hazel and Megan played with students, read with students, painted, and Atticus carried cute babies around, which Megan later told me definitely had scabies. No sign of critters yet on Atty. 

After school Atticus had another village fight challenge and basically got his ass handed to him by several of the kids. They looked small but were actually 14 and 16 years old and had a grand old time picking Atticus up and throwing him down onto the sand. Nevertheless, he gave each kid a round or two and somehow managed to keep a smile on his face. After they wrapped up the beat down, they all went swimming in the Volta, with several of the local kids helping wash the sand off of Atty’s back and head. Later that evening during dinner, Atticus made several secret missions to the group of boys, delivering them food from our dinner. They would ask me “Is it true our friend is leaving?” They just couldn’t understand why. It was touching. 

That evening the locals lit a giant bonfire, which was just lovely because it was still hotter than a kiln, and put on a traditional music and dance performance on the beach. It was capped by a guy with long dreadlocks on 10 foot bamboo stilts creeping and lunging around while blowing a whistle. It was very black magic and voodoo-esque. 

Trying to sleep sharing a bed with Atticus in a palm hut, while covered in sand, sweating profusely (which felt like bugs crawling all over you as the sweat dripped down) under a mosquito net was a bit futile. I finally fell asleep around 3:30 AM and woke up at first hint of light so I could go outside and get into a hammock. At least there I had some air around my body. I was thinking of complaining, but then realised we only had to do that for one night. People do this everyday of their lives. We lived!

We traveled up the Volta after breakfast for about an hour by boat to Rhum Island, where they make, you guessed it, rum! Using bananas, pineapples and sugar cane they distilled some potent brew. We steered clear of the tasting party after Megan mentioned methanol and blindness. We opted to play soccer with some kids that Atticus met and he blew up some balloons which I am not sure the kids there had ever seen. Following that we helped some local fisherman haul in their nets. The fish seemed awful small to be keeping to me, and was perhaps a sign of overfishing, but they kept them just the same. 

Ghana was one of the most challenging and most rewarding places we have visited on our trip and I would go back in a moment. We are now currently getting some fuel in Las Palmas, Canary Islands and will head out shortly headed for Casablanca, Morocco.