This weekend, all the NYU kids loaded up into buses and made our way to Cape Coast and Elmina. I woke up around 6AM, unaware of how awesome the day would end up being. We arived at our hotel, Coconut Grove Beach Resort, at around 9:30 in the morning for a buffet breakfast of omelettes (which were AMAZING), black eyed peas, crossiants, and pineapple. Now that's a breakfast. Then we headed off for St. George's Castle in Elmina (also known as Elmina Castle). Elmina is by no means a little village or a big city. It's primarily a fishing village, but the town also gets a considerable amount of its income from salt gathering. The castle is not what most would picture as a castle. It's really more like a fort. It was built in the 15th century by the Portuguese, who were the first colonial power to stake claim to Ghana. (Interesting fact: the castle is the oldest standing colonial structure in Sub-Saharan Africa). Their original intention (supposedly) was to use the castle as a fort and as a place where missionaries could enter the country. Instead, it was used as a slave dungeon on the ground floors and the governor's palace on the upper floors. There are also certain areas where soldiers stayed, and there's even a church (ironic, no? to worship the lord and torture slaves simultaneously).
The weight of this place did not settle on me immediately. At first I only saw stones, stairs, rooms, the ocean from the top. But then I stepped into one of the holding cells for slaves. The dungeons are dark and poorly ventilated, the floors and the walls hard stone. The smell of centuries of torture still remains in the cells, a musty, desperate smell, one that enters the nostrils and immediately lets one know this place is cursed. As I learned from the tour guide what went on in this castle, the history of a wronged people came alive to me. People were crammed into these tiny spaces with no sight of family or sunlight, no food to sustain themselves, and no place to relieve their waste. If I had been in these cells hundreds of years ago, there would be vomit, urine, feces, and menstral blood all over the floor. The people would be starving to death either from malnutrition or from refusal to eat. Women would be periodically taken from the cells, bathed, fed, raped by the soldiers, and then return to the cells to await more misery. The Europeans had the idea that Africans were stronger than other races, and therefore they didn't need to be taken care of. They also wanted to weed out the weak ones so only the strong ones would be left to work. That way they could sell the slaves for a better price. Because of these sadistic philosophies, people in these cells were not well.
Also, let's not forgot the hell these people had already gone through to get to the castle. Since there was no other form of transportation at the time, people walked on foot from all over West Africa to come to this castle or another like it, the long hot walk lasting many months. People were forced away from their clans, their nations, their land, and made to take this terrible journey to torture. And once they finally reached the ocean, they were placed in dungeons to wait. Once their time had come, the slaves had to go through the door of no return. Once they passed through this door, they had two options. They could either get on a ship, unaware of where they might be going, unaware of what they might suffer next, or they could jump into the ocean and become dinner for the sharks. Those who dove for the sharks got lucky, and those who got on the ship either died on the way over to the Americas or built the riches of the New World.
Being in this place made me sad and angry... sad for those who have suffered and who still suffer today... angry at... well, angry at no one in particular, I suppose, just angry that people can be so cruel. It's a history that affects us all. Who today is to blame? Well, no one I can think of. But who is to make up for the tragedy and for the discrimination that still lingers from it today? You? Me? No one? I'm really not sure. So many emotions run through my body at once because of all this, and I simply don't know what to do with them. I've gone into lots of deep contemplation about what life must be like for an African American, a person whose history has been stripped and replaced with slavery. The African American is a forced immigrant, someone who never chose to be where they are, and yet people are still bothered by their existence in American society. Growing up, society told me that white is beautiful and black is dangerous. The more I learn, the more I realize how ridiculous this all is. Coming to the castle sort of made it hit home for me, thinking back to the people who were once in this castle, and the hardships they and their offspring have suffered and still do suffer. May we all not take for granted "the way things are" and really think about the way things are and they perceptions we have of people and where those perceptions come from and how accurate those perceptions are, and if accurate in any way, how much those perceptions are the cause of the reality.
*****
I hope I didn't depress anyone too much. My goal was not to depress, but to evoke some hardcore contemplation about the past and the present. So now I will move on with the weekend. After the castle, our group went to Kakum National Park, a protected tropical rainforest comprising a little over 600 square kilometers. People are really only allowed into a very very small section of the park (thank God) where there's a campground, a little restaurant, and a gift shop. A few days hikes are available if arranged with a park ranger. The main attraction of the park, though, is the forest canopy walk, which is basically a wooden board with ropes coming up the sides to catch you if you fall. The walkway is a good 100 feet off the ground and goes from tree to tree. The walk was truly invigorating, being so high up in the air without really standing on much at all. I looked out and could see miles into the distance, just forest, just beauty. On the walk back, I had a moment with the forest, a rediscovery of my connection to the woods and the peace they offer me. I did not linger too long, though. We all got back on the bus and went back to the hotel.
After getting to the hotel, I immediately put on some trunks and headed out for the ocean since it was about to be dark. I must say, this beach was THE MOST AWESOME BEACH EVER! The waves were wonderfully violent, but they were also right on the beach, so I didn't have to worry about going far to get carried away by a monster wave. I completely let loose and let the waves control my body, tossing me this way and that, knocking me over, washing me up on shore, scratching my back against the sand. I love being possessed by nature. That night we had a nice dinner and I had some real bonding experiences with my fellow students. It was extremely pleasant.
*****
The next day we went into Cape Coast, although unfortunately we only stayed for a few hours. Cape Coast is the capital of the Central Region of Ghana (although actually in the south, right on the coast) and is the 6th largest city in the country. The city was the first capital of Britain's Gold Coast colony, and this shows in the city today. The architecture of the city is very European, unlike most of Accra. The buildings downtown are very colorful and very colonial, while huge majestic churches serve as the highest points in the city. It was Sunday morning when we arrived, so these churches were filled with Ghanains eager for more God in their lives (as if naming one's shop "The Blood of Jesus Hair Salon" or "The Lord's Prayer Grocery" isn't enough). The people were equally hospitable as they are in Accra, all smiling, many stopping us to ask where we were from and why we had come to their city. After walking around with Tania for a long while, we were hot and decided to get a drink and cool off. So we went to the "So Far As Spot" (I love the names of places here) for Coke and wine. We weren't sure how to get back to our bus meeting spot (the Cape Coast castle, another slave castle - I did not go inside because of our limited time), so we asked a man smoking a cigarette how to get back. He did more than just tell us. Daniel (we discovered was his name) walked us back and told us all about his children and impressed us with his knowledge of world geography. He named for us about 40 of the 55 African countries, which was certainly more than I could name. (By the way, take a glimpse at a map of Africa sometime - I guarantee you that you'll see many countries whose names you've never heard before). We said goodbye to Daniel and got on the bus to go back to the hotel and then back to Accra. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful, but sometimes that's just necessary after a long weekend of adventure.
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