Monkeying Around

Happy Thanksgiving! I honesty cannot believe that it is the holiday season. I guess when you are clear across the Atlantic Ocean where it is steaming hot it definitely doesn’t match up with the cool fall weather and changing leaves that I normally associate with Thanksgiving. Despite my sadness over not being to spend the holidays with friends and family I am genuinely happy to be here.

Thanksgiving in Ghana was a smashing hit! Our program put on a huge feast with a live traditional African band that was held in the Volta Hall Gardens, right above my dorm. The night was lit up with bright lights hanging around the perimeter of the courtyard and the catchy drumming kept people on the dance floor all night. We kicked off the night with a prayer, American style, and then we poured libations to our ancestors, Ghanaian style. The table that I sat at with twenty other girls from the University of California got up and sprinted to the food table (like the classy ladies we are). The first food table consisted of Ghanaian dishes- jollof rice, fried rice, plantains, yam balls, and fufu with groundnut soup. The jackpot table was where the mother lode was located. Turkey, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, quiche, and lasagna covered the table (sound familiar to your dinner?). My plate was piled sky high by the time I made it through the line. The most hilarious part was that Miriam, our girly Ghanaian student guide, was in charge of cutting the turkey. She laughed when I asked her if she had cut a turkey before. “No…do I look like I have?” she said while keeping complete focus on the task at hand. The butchered turkey provided all the evidence I needed. I had only eaten half of my plate before I was sent into a food coma. And that was prior to the cutting of the apple pie, cake, and ice cream. After only ten minutes of digesting, the band started playing the traditional songs that correlate to the dances I had learned in my Traditional African dance class. The Ghanaian dancers got into position and a few of my fellow international students and I joined in on the fun. It was an unconventional Thanksgiving but will definitely be one for the memory books.

This weekend, Ariel and I got back from our big solo adventure. On Friday morning we took a tro-tro to Madina in order to find a tro-tro that would be going towards Ho-Hoe in the Volta Region. After thirty minutes of being pointed in different directions we found our ride and embarked on our journey to Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary. I was squished in between a cute little boy on my left, Ariel on my right, and my backpacking bag on my lap. Thanks to the lovely breeze coming through the window, I didn’t suffocate. I got very little sleep as we bobbed around for the next four hours, crossed the Adomi Bridge and entered the Volta Region. We knew things could not go this smooth the whole way- and we were right. The mate (or assistant) of the tro-tro spoke very poor English which resulted in us getting dropped off in the wrong town. As our tro-tro sped away we asked a local if we were in the correct location- nope. So there we were, stranded in a rural village too far away from our final destination to walk. Luckily, we made a friend who helped us hail a new tro-tro for the remaining distance. When we got off at Logba Alekpeti, a small town off the main road to Ho-Hoe, we were instantly swarmed by Ghanaian men who wanted to be hired as our ride to the village. You see, Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary is actually located 5 km off the main road. What did we have to do? Hop on the back of a motorcycle and ride through the forests bumpy dirt road to the village! My motorcycle driver, Emmanuel, was a couple years younger than me and was born and raised in Tafi Atome. He took all the turns nice and slow (you are welcome mom)…for those of you who were wondering. However, he promised to teach me how to drive the bike on our way back the next morning- an offer I was sadly unable to take him up on. After a ten minute drive, the vegetation opened up to a small town. Many of the houses were formed of clay with thatch roofs but a more modern school was recently built. Our guest house was set right up into the back of the forest. The room was surprisingly nice: complete with a fan, two beds, and mosquito nets. As our guide, Michael, walked away he jumped out of fright, turned back towards us and said “don’t be afraid of the monkeys...they are around!” Ariel crashed in our beds for a few seconds until we heard a barking noise outside our window. There he was, Mr. Monkey, plopped on the ground barking right outside our window. As Ariel napped, I took a plastic chair and set it up on our porch. Over the next hour I watched as monkeys flung themselves from tree to tree sometimes dropping to the ground right in front of me- sending me squealing into my room. At 6PM Michael led us to dinner in the pitch dark. We passed groups of goats tied to stakes, chickens roaming, and little fearless children who have no problem walking up and saying “hi” despite being only two or three years old. Our dinner was held in a clay hut where a pot of rice, tomato sauce, and boiled eggs were waiting. We wolfed our food down and walked back to our room where we were pleasantly surprised to meet some other foreigners. I introduced myself and they informed me that they were from the Netherlands and volunteered with a medical group in Accra. At one point, we had to hail Michael because a huge spider that seemed like the type that would kill someone was right above my bed. Michael walked in and said “WOAAAH,” got all serious and killed it with a broom. As Ariel and I chatted away in our room we heard a series of knocks at the door...it instantly put me into a Blair Witch Project mindset. The voice on the other side of the door said “we are children come play with us.” The next two hours, three little boys harassed us by making loud animal noises and opening our windows to peek inside and whisper pleads for us to come outside. The best line was “we are not witches, we are children.” When they finally left, Ariel and I quietly darted to the washroom. A lizard and the hugest spider I have ever seen awaited our arrival. This place truly has the type of bugs you only see on the Discovery Channel. After cleaning up we walked back to our room, flashlight in hand, only to find the three little boys blocking the entrance. I felt bad as their puppy eyes signaled that they were lonely and only wanted to play with the deflated balloon they had. At that moment the Dutch guys came out and decided to work off the kid’s boundless energy. That night I felt my first twinges of chill due to the fact there were no sheets.

            At 5:30 AM Ariel and I woke up for monkey tour. We lathered our mosquito lotion and sunscreen and set out. Our guide, Emmanuel, (not the motorcycle driver) led us to the edge of the forest where around twenty monkeys were hanging out. Emmanuel brought out the bananas and the monkeys went crazy. He taught us how to properly hold the bananas and then let us loose. The monkeys would literally pounce off a tree or the ground on to your arm and just sit there and tear pieces of banana off like pros. Of course, I was a little hesitant but I stepped up to the plate and just my luck, two monkeys decided to have a way over my banana…while standing on my arm. I closed my eyes until I felt the final pieces of my banana snatched away. My second attempt landed the coveted monkey picture (see below). When we were done, my arm was covered in mud, and the calm said that it was a calm day. Apparently, the monkeys usually smash bananas on the visitors. I guess they just liked me. We proceeded to do a mini hike of the forest where we learned all the historical facts about the sanctuary. The ancestors of the village migrated to the area 200 years earlier from the Brong Ahafo area, bringing with them fetishes for the monkeys and tortoises. This taboo protected the monkeys for quite some time but their numbers began to dwindle by the 1980’s as a result of the replacement of the traditional beliefs by Christianity. With the help of the Peace Corps, Tafi Atome has now turned into a community based ecotourism project centered on the monkeys. There are now around 400 Mona monkeys (the only population of that species that exists in Ghana) due to conservation efforts. All of the money made goes towards the sanctuary that was officially established in 1993 or towards community development. After the tour, we ate breakfast (bread and tea) with our Dutch friends and then set out. As I drove away on the back of my motorcycle I couldn’t help but feel like I had fallen in love with this little village. We caught a tro-tro back to Accra, stuffed our faces with egg sandwiches and pineapple and crashed. Mission accomplished.

            I had my first written final today. I used every last minute of my three hours and even had to be told to put down my pen (it may be surprising that I can write even more than I do here!) For those of you who care the three questions I had to answer were: (I took my test sheet out of the test by accident)

1.      What kind of relationship existed between Indigenous Slavery and the External Slave Trade?

2.      Give a brief description of the economy of Ghana up to 1800 A.D.

3.      “The story of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade is not a pretty story, nor an uplifting one” (Patrick Manning). Do you agree with this assertion?

Other than that, my hand is severely cramping from writing so much today and in preparation for my final. One down, two more to go! 12 days till Israel! Bon voyage!