nomadic in april

Eastern Region Ghana. Part 2

I arrived in Koforidua after dark. I had made a policy to avoid traveling to new places at night. But it's "winter" here and the sun sets at 6pm. This time I couldn't avoid it. On our way, I looked through my bag for the list of hotels in this area. Somehow I had left all the information. I looked in my West Africa guidebook and there was nothing! There was no point in panicking, and I couldn't let on that I didn't know where I was going.

As we approached the lorry station, I kept my eyes out for signs advertising hotels. I only saw one. The Capital View Hotel. Fortunately, the tro-tro stop was in front of a petrol station with a convenience store. I went inside, waited until there were no customers around and asked the woman at the counter for a phone directory. She seemed confused and loudly asked her co-worker to help me with the phone directory. He brought one out and within minutes, I was surrounded by men asking me the usual questions. They wanted to know what I was looking for. I couldn't say I didn't know, so I distracted them by asking them questions. Just as I located the phone number of the hotel, I looked up to see one young man with his mobile phone camera pointed at my face. I dropped my head and he insisted, not asked, that I lift my head and let him take the photo. I said no. Recent experience with village women trying to marry me to their sons and nephews made me wary about being "captured" in this man's phone, not to mention he had just met me 30 seconds before. I can only imagine the story he'd have to go with my photo . . .

I got the number, went outside to call the hotel and reserved a room. It was the equivalent of $25 dollars a night. More than my daily allotment for a hotel. I figured I had no other choice since I hadn't seen a listing or sign for any other hotel. It was a very nice hotel. Running water, hot water, air conditioning, tv and refrigerator. Best of all, I didn't need to hang my mosquito net!

I woke up the next morning refreshed and caught a taxi to the tourist board where I sought information about the Cocoa Research Institute of Ghana (CRIG). There was only one man working and he quickly volunteered to write a letter of introduction so that I could have better access. He gave me brochures on local sites to see and pointed me to the tro-tro that would take me.

My first stop was the Bunsu Arboretum. The arboretum is a planted forest of various species of trees and flowers. There is also a butterfly sanctuary. I met a forestor at the visitor center and we headed into the forest. He began his long introduction about the history of the arboretum. I interrupted to him to say that although I was interested in all the trees, I was especially interested in the cocoa trees. This was my reason for coming. He assured me that we'd see some. The tree that I found the most fascinating is the one that produces the monkey nut. The nut tastes like a combination of a coconut and a brazil nut. We meandered through until we reached the cocoa trees. The forestor then pointed out that these trees actually belonged to a farmer and not the arboretum and that he was not "into" cocoa. He stood at the entrance and waited while I walked in to take photos. After two photos he asked if I was done. I said "not quite." He said if I wanted to talk to the farmer I could hike two miles or so to the village "that way" and look for him. Feeling like I had been hussled out of my money and time, I declined and we headed back to the visitor center.

The arboretum, I was told, is run by the same organization that runs CRIG. So I asked the forestor how to get to CRIG. He said it was just a little ways down the road. We walked, in the blistering mid day sun, single file down the narrow rural road to a farm that is an outpost of CRIG, but not CRIG. No one was there. He suggested another place and I told hin, no, that I would find my way to the main site.

I caught a tro-tro in the opposite direction and arrived at the grand archway leading into the campus of CRIG. I went to the public relations office, showed my letter and asked if I could have a tour. The young woman there was not sure what to think of me and pointed out that usually you send the letter in advance and wait for an appointment. It was obvious that she wasn't busy and I could see she was considering giving me the tour anyway. She showed me the few cocoa products they had in the office and gave me a general overview of what they do. But she still had not agreed to the tour. I was pretty sure I could convince her. I asked if she was a scientist, this did the trick. She was flattered and explained that though she was not a scientist, she's required to know what all the departments do. She agreed to the tour and only charged me the student price.

On the tour, I saw the "museum", more like a nursery, where they study diseased plants. We walked on to where they ferment and dry seeds/beans that are harvested from the trees on their campus. Even though it is not high cocoa season, there are always pods to harvest. They ferment the beans in a large open pavillion with a concrete floor and corrugated tin roof. My guide broke opened some pods and we tasted the sweet fruit that surrounds the beans. We walked into the "forest" and looked at several species of cocoa trees.

After the tour I stopped in the shop to buy some cocoa products that they produce. Only cocoa soap was available. When it's high season they have a range of products such as cocoa gin, wine, brandy, etc.

Everyone I encountered in this region seemed genuinely interested in helping me. I hope this will continue to be my experience as I move north through Ghana. One man went as far to say that I was welcome and that Ghanaians are sorry for things that have happened in the U.S. in the past. I thought he was one of the rare people to mention slavery and to welcome me. But I soon understood he was referring to Sept 11. He paid for my tro-tro fare and showed me where to transfer. He never asked for my number or address. He didn't ask for anything. I am very grateful for the few people like this man who I have encountered.