So you think you know about Ghana (??) …but you have no idea…this is the diary.
“Ready or not, here I come” - Day 1, 07/16/2009 Traveling to Ghana economy class is not like any other
flight you take. You don’t just check through surveillance scans, board the
plane, take the seat you chose via online check-in and off the Airbus
takes…noooo. You go to the circus! Patience, as I probably will get back to later,
is not a strong suit of black African natives. So imagine a 30 minute delay of
the boarding time and once everyone has walked through safety scans and crowded
up (not queued up) in front of the gate, KLM ground personnel suddenly
remembers to announce that business class travelers,
skyteam-blue-member-whatever travelers may board first...it was getting pretty
loud out there, but I have to admit, although I was quite angry about the whole
handling myself, I sort of enjoyed observing other people’s reactions. That was
my first Ghana experience of the trip. The second followed right after business
people etc. had gone through and KLM ground personnel announced that parents
with little kids may board then… imagine the rest. So I grabbed my seat, which already mentioned I thoughtfully
picked when checking in online. It was an aisle seat nearby the toilet (for
whatever reason I never went) and unless two travelers who wanted to sit next
to each other would have booked last minute, I would have had the whole row for
myself…niiiice I thought when sitting down. Niiiice the kind of guy I can be
sometimes, I agreed to get reseated to a “way better seat”, as the stewardess
worded it, after having a little discussion with her, so that a mother with two
daughters could be seated next to each other. When I took the “way better seat”
I immediately hated her, the stewardess, not the big partition wall in front of
me, not the people who wouldn’t understand that our extended leg space did NOT
mean there was a walk through from one isle to the other, not the two mothers
with their little screaming babies next to me, not the little girl behind me
that was going to be bored the whole flight which would lead to her kicking the
seat in front of her over and over again until she was reminded by the person
sitting in that seat while trying to watch a movie or two to please stop, I
hated only the stewardess. And she knew it right away. It became a mutual lets-pretend-to-be-nice-to-each-other
atmosphere, unluckily for her she had to be nice and I did not. I will not go
in depth on that, but let me put it that way, she was well aware of my
dissatisfaction. The “could you please group us together” – “I think I found
a couple of seats next to each other, let me just ask the people sitting there”
– game went on almost until the carrier was on the strip ready to depart. Finally everybody was seated, the little kids
kept quiet for a bit (there were many, and nobody walking through to the other aisle
anymore. A couple minutes of peacefulness, but that was only until the “you may
unbelt your seat” sound rang out…whatever… The landing at Kotoka Airport was quite smooth. I was
looking forward to the moment of saying goodbye to the stewardesses on the way
out except for one and descend from the carrier. As you may recall, I am not a
big fan of air travel. The moment I stepped out of the plane I immediately
recalled my first visit to Ghana nine years ago…the air, the humidity…just so
different from central Europe. “Yeah
right, I totally forgot…”, I was thinking. “Ready or not, here I come”.
Kotoka International Airport is not a very big one compared
to, for instance, Schiphol Luchthaven in Amsterdam. The whole procedure of
being granted permission to enter the country is ridiculously circumstantial.
It starts in the back in the air, when all passengers have to fill out two
forms, one about immigration intentions, I mean *Hellooooo!* it should be more
than clear that I’m only a visitor once taking a look at my 50-bucks-visa, the
other one being about commercial items that potentially would be subject to
customs duties, unless they were bought in a duty free shop at the airport of
departure. Then your passport and visa are checked for the first time (which
usually also is the only time). Dubiously, there are random “officers” standing
in the hallway leading to the luggage conveyor who think it might be necessary
to double check your passport and do the whole “What are your intentions for
your visit etc”-questionnaire again, like for some reason I haven’t previously filled
out a four-folded visa application form in The Hague in which the purpose of my
stay is stated in detail. I my opinion once the visa is granted there shouldn’t
be any additional questions, it’s just unnecessary and annoying, period. And
definitely not a third time after one
has waited for about 20 minutes to get his luggage, which at that stage could
be subject to opened to check whether the statement about the items brought
with is correct or not. But none of those officers opened one single bag, they
just did the usual “What are your intentions for your visit etc”-questionnaire
and would let one pass anyway…of course…I mean, c’mon…are you effin’ kidding
me??!
The reunion of my father and me was less emotional than I thought it would be for some reason. I mean we both were exuberantly happy to finally see each other again…but no tears, which I feared could possibly cross my cheek. To my surprise he really hasn’t changed that much physically. At his age he seems to be in quite good shape, which I am very glad about…and he is old compared to other parents with 21 year old children.Apparently he was not joking when he always said he felt so young, which I realized that same night when we hit two clubs. *Ok, allriiiight!*
Around town - Day 2, 07/17/2009 On the second day he first showed me his old dental clinic
he worked in as a freelancer, followed by one of his new clinics where he was
about to start off the Monday after and which was more stable with 5 ½ working
days a week. His partner, and which was also the owner of the two clinics my
dad is going to work in, was a very charismatic Libanese-french dentist who
settled in Ghana years ago and who is about the same age as papa. Obviously the
clinics in Ghana are not quite as modern as the European ones, but I don’t
think that 20 years ago clients were that much disadvantaged to nowaday’s state
of the art dental technology. After all I’m very glad he took the new job, and
so is he.
We went on to get me a SIM card for my cell phone so we could stay connected for the next eight days, since my Dutch SIM had no reception of any kind. Furthermore, it would probably be way too expensive to use my Dutch SIM anyway. Compared to the Dutch fees, using a cell in Ghana is fairly cheap – that is, of course only when your monetary in- and output spells as EUROs. The current exchange rate is 0.5 if you’d like to buy Ghana cedis (GHS), respectively 2.0 if you purchase Euros. That’s not too bad in comparison to for instance pocketing 5000 cedis bills back in 2k during my first visit, which then must have been worth about 50 Euro cents of today’s value, I suppose. When driving through Accra one will notice the massive marketing campaign of Vodafone, which I was quite saddened about. In an exploiting fashion one will see red painted houses and shops with a centered Vodafone logo… almost EVERYWHERE!! Each main road is could basically be named Vodafone avenue. When I saw this I realized that sadly this type of advertising will only be possible in poor countries where big corporations take advantage of misery and poverty. I mean if someone is offered a certain amount of money (which would be fairly small in EU terms) to get a paint job on his little store in most of Africa he or she would hardly reject it. African competitors like MTN try to keep up with Vodafone’s ad machinery big time, of course. There is even memorial squares that are presented by Vodafone…can you imagine? It’s certainly some disturbing image when getting around town. (Backstory: Vodafone was able to acquire somewhat 70 percent of Ghana telecom shares during the previous administration lead by former president Kuffour, which caused indignation throughout the nation. See also: http://www.vodafone.com.gh/About-Us/News/Vodafone-Launches--Vodafone-Rewards--Promo.aspx & http://ghanabusinessnews.com/2009/04/16/ghana-telecom-onetouch-now-vodafone/ )
In the afternoon we went to Labadi Beach, which would almost become a ritual throughout my stay since we went there every day, sometimes if only for an hour or two. The beach itself is honestly not the most beautiful you’ve ever seen, but it is a nice place to relax, have a bite to eat and recharge. The fact that papa has free entrance to the beach (as well as all clubs and bars around town, for various reasons) makes the decision easy to drop by on a daily basis.
Although Ghana is better off than many other African
countries it remains a Third World country. Images of beggars on the street at
every junction are common place, or children leading a blind family member from
car to car asking for help – money, that is. An ironic
picture unfolds when
driving down Labadi road, on one side all the 4- and 5-star hotel resorts
facing slum-type neighborhoods on the other side of the free way, where running
water and constant electricity is not taken for granted, let alone a functioning
waste disposal system, the latter of which I would say is a major problem
throughout the whole city. One feels almost guilty when thinking about the
deluxe circumstance of being born in, say, Germany. Anybody on welfare my home
country is 10 times better off than the average Ghanaian I suppose. But that’s
just the way it is.
Later in the evening we went out again, which I pretty quickly got used to throughout my stay.
…oh and my father also dropped a bombshell that day, but that’s a different story.
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