Kumasi

This past weekend's destination: Kumasi. Maggie, Kenz, Greg--from PA, and I decided to go to Kumasi for the weekend, as it is supposedly "one of those places that everyone goes to when they come to visit Ghana". Apparently, it is known for its souvenirs, the "Cultural Center", and the largest open-air market in all of West Africa. So, we booked a hostel (courtesy of a review for the cheapest place to stay in the Ghana "Bradt" book), and left from the STC bus station at 9:00am Friday morning. We hit the road, with few plans and unknown expectations.

Kumasi is about 5-6 hours north of Accra, but time is merely a figment of the imagination in Ghana. Unfortunately, unlike your typical Greyhound bus, this STC bus took who-knows-how-many stops from Accra to Kumasi, dropping off and loading people along the way. As we rode, two "drop-down" TV screens played blaring African soap operas. The noise level could not even be remedied with my iPod's loudest volume setting. It was surely an adventure.

When we arrived in Kumasi, we were unsure of where the hostel was. But, after asking around, we discovered that it was literally only a few steps away from the STC station. How perfect. The hostel was your average hostel, no a/c, a common bathroom (shared between the four of us), "old-school" keys and locks, etc., BUT--the beds were HUGE. And when I say huge, I mean that four people could have slept side by side, perfectly comfortable with room in between. Although four people could have slept comfortably, we had to get two rooms since each room was meant for two people. The rate: $15/night ($7.50/person)--not too shabby.

We walked around, exploring, for the rest of the day...

Whenever I am in a new place, I always try to look around, look into the people, absorb the colors, the smells, the buildings, the streets, the details, the art. Doing this enables me to describe, to contextualize or to categorize, to put what I experience into words. Sometimes I feel bound to come up with the perfect words or the correct description, so I can share a new place with others, in storytelling or in blogging. Perhaps that is why I love photography so much?--because although a photo can never "capture the true essence" (thanks McKenzie), it can say a lot.

This weekend was flexible, adventurous, laid back, and refreshing. It was definitely a time to "just be", with a lot of time to think and to reflect. I thought about my experiences in Ghana so far (since it's been over five weeks now--hard to believe). I thought about the future, memories in the past, dreams and things that I aspire to be and to do. I read shop signs and graffiti and store windows.

It is difficult to put Kumasi into pictures or words. I love how each person takes away something different from a new place. Each person has his or her own unique experience, is impacted in some way, etches certain memories into their brains, and forms his or her own snapshot of what a place means.

Kumasi might be a little overrated, but there are two things that I will never forget: Kumasi Children's Home and the BEST Indian meal I have ever had in my entire life.

First, Kumasi Children's Home. Two of Maggie's best guy friends from home volunteered at Kumasi Children's Home last summer for 7 weeks. One of them insisted that Maggie visit it to find what they named as "Africa's most joyful baby, Africumba". So, Maggie led, and we all went in search of the bitty bundle of joy (who sadly enough she never found, but we found so many other bundles of joy).

After breakfast on Saturday morning, we piled in a taxi and went straight to the children's home. Maggie followed her friends' directions: "Go to Airport turnabout, look for a gas station, and keep walking until you see KCH on your left"--a little vague, but they were right on.

As we walked up the sidewalk, through the gates of the children's home, children sprinted toward us from all directions, pumping their arms, trying to keep up with their excited feet. They raced to us, as we picked them up and twirled them in the air. I will never forget the smiles on their faces. They were SO excited to see us; they were excited to be loved.

I have never been to an orphanage before. I've been to transitional-housing homes, homeless shelters, children's hospitals, etc., but never to an orphanage. It was such a new experience for me, because these children KNOW they are orphans, they know they don't have a father/mother figure.

But, they are all each other's family. They are one big family. All of the kids live together, eat together, sleep together, play together, learn together. The older kids parent the younger children, all looking out for one another. They all have had difficult pasts, but they live in hopes of building stronger futures together.

We got to hold the babies in our arms, and on our backs, as the Ghanaian women "satcheled" them around us. McKenzie, Maggie, and I had always wanted to carry the babies on our backs, as all of the women here carry their children that way (no strollers, no baby backpacks/carriers). The babies seemed so happy and content when we picked them up or carried them around, but as soon as we set them down, they cried and cried. They loved being held.

After playing with the babies, we set out to the playground, where McKenzie and Greg played "football" (known as soccer in the US) with the kids. We played on the playground, talked with the children, and played hand-games with the girls. It was so much fun to be a kid again.

On the playground, I talked to Bridgette, a Bible Study leader who comes in from town once a week. I was able to ask her a lot of questions about the orphanage. The children are allowed to stay there until they are 22-years-old, and even years beyond that, they can come back to their "family" in times of trouble, as it is their stronghold and their home. The orphanage is government-sponsored, so it is funded by the Ghanaian government. Children are and can be adopted from the orphanage. A lot of children have siblings at the orphanage. There are twins, babies, teenagers, burn victims, mentally and physically handicapped children, flood victims, the list goes on...It was an experience that I will remember forever.

Now...Indian food. Let me go ahead and give out the best piece of advice (for anyone traveling anywhere)--PLEASE GET A "BRADT" BOOK (see Google for more details). Some of our friends from our campus hostel were also staying at the Kumasi hostel--Sammy (from Chicago), Kristine (from Elon), and Eric (from Las Vegas). Kristine asked us where we were going for dinner, and after telling her that we were unsure, she recommended an Indian restaurant that was written up in the Bradt book to apparently have "better Indian food than any Western place---ever". She, and the book were right. All 7 of us took taxis to the Indian restaurant, which was dressed richly in red table cloths, accessorized with- elegant silverware. We couldn't believe we were still in Africa...it felt more like India.

Sammy, lover of all things Indian, was so excited to be at the restaurant, giving out Indian food advice and assuring us that anything we ordered would be delicious. But, I had no idea HOW delicious-he was right. We all ordered a main dish, accompanied with garlic nan and rice, and we mixed it together, sharing as we passed each silver dish around the table. I ordered Cashew Chicken, and also tried Paneer Matar and Chicken Tikki Marsala--wow, Indian might be my new favorite. I would love to go to India one day (I heard it is a photographer's paradise because of all of the bright and vivid colors).

The Children's Home and Indian meal were definitely the two major highlights of Kumasi. Like I mentioned above, we also visited the largest open-air market in West Africa. It was so crowded, narrow, and loud. Booth after booth sold the exact same things--white tank tops, baby clothes, and some sort of spices. After visiting the market, we went to the Cultural Center, where we visited a few local shops...again a little overrated, but at least we got the "Kumasi to-do's" checked off.

Until next time...much peace and love.