Day 5: Cape Coast, Ghana (January 12, 2011)

After lounging around all morning, I made it out into Cape Coast to see the Cape Coast Castle, which is really a fort, and the Cape Coast Fort, which is really a lighthouse.

Cape Coast Castle

Cape Coast Fort

The Castle is the first thing I've seen in Ghana that is in any way a tourist destination. By that I mean there was an organized tour and a very slight acknowledgement on the part of people in town that outsiders would actually be interested in it. I feel a bit sheepish admitting this, but it was comfortable to have someone walk me around the place, explaining its history and what happened in it. Like, the British built the place and some leftover Brittish attitude makes it comfortable for tourists to spend time in. ha. Really it was less the guide and more the fact that it was organized with an eye towards visitors that I liked. There's even a museum there, which exceeded my expectations in terms of educational value and quality of artifacts. Oh and I did another small haggle there: I asked if I could pay 10 Cedis instead ofthe usual 11, "because 10 is easier than 11" and the guy at the ticket booth said yes.

The Castle was primarily devoted to shipping slaves off to the Americas, after they were brought in from other parts of region, although there were also defenses in case of an attack by other European nations. Like the mini fort I explored yesterday, people can explore all parts of the Castle, and the tour took us into the dungeons -- there's no other word for them -- where up to 1,500 slaves were held at any one time before being shipped off. Growing up in America, I already knew a lot about the slave trade, but the conditions at the Castle were much grimmer than I imagined, even when I was expecting to be depressed and disturbed. :(

Inside one of the slave holding rooms.  That is the only light.

The biggest surprise of the day came when, during the tour we were led to the "Door of No Return" -- the door out of the castle that led to the waiting slave ships. Once a slave went through there, he or she didn't come back. But today, we left the calm and relative emptiness of the Castle and were greeted by this on the other side:
　
It was like a scene in a movie where the actors are in some drab environment, then a door opens onto a wonderland (think Willy Wonka's chocolate making room). This photo doesn't capture all of the activity going on, but it was boisterous and colorful and um... pungent and loud. But very exciting to see.

Fishing boats, hauling in their catch.

Some friendly guy, repairing a net.

After the Castle, I walked up to the "Fort." Unlike the Castle, the Fort is not really set up for tourists. The only way to get there is up a steep and dismal dirt path next to a shantytown. I had to dodge a number of chickens and goats. But as usual, no one bothered me unless you count the occassional random "Hello how are you" from a stranger just sitting around and watching the world go by. Oh, I was joined by a pack of kids on the hike up. My camera appeared to be the most exciting thing they'd ever seen and they were delighted when I offered to take their photo (even I couldn't refuse them). They were nearly as excited about the nearby mango trees, which they insisted I photograph as well (I'll spare you the photos of the mango trees).

My escort to the Fort.

Sadly, the Fort itself was just too shady for me to go inside of by myself. There were a couple of people hanging out on top, and some lines of laundry drying on its parapets (yeah really, which made me think people live in it, which is sort of funny and sort of not). So, I did what I told my parents I would do: That if I didn't feel comfortable doing something, I would listen to my instincts and I wouldn't do it. So I didn't go in. One of the kids, the one with the most serious demeanor and who also seemed most interested in talking to me and not just showing off, told me that "white people go in there all the time," even women by themselves. And I'm sure he's right, but I'm content having made it up to the Fort at all. One sad note: As the boy, Anthony, walked me back down the hill (the rest of the kids stayed up top to play), he mentioned something about the school he goes to. I asked if the other boys went to school and he said they didn't. :(

This next bit will surprise a lot of people who know me: I never go to church in the States, but I sometimes go when I'm traveling. It's a good way to see the local happenings and sometimes meet people. And in Europe, where some churches charge for admittance, you get in for free if you go to services. And sometimes, I'll even say a prayer for grandma and grandpa if I can find a private nook inside. So when I passed the big Catholic Church in town (might be the oldest in Ghana? Or at least Cape Coast) I went up to do my thing. A couple women were sitting around and we started talking. They were all very sweet and seemed to like me, but were a little dismayed that I'm a "pagan." They also seemed undecided between being impressed that I'm not married and have no children, and being sorry for me. It was an endearing attitude.

Christina, Theresa & Mabel