obrunis do republic day

Yesterday was Republic Day, which celebrates the moment when Ghana, having declared independence from British colonial rule a few years prior, became free from the queen's control. I'm a little confused as to how that all worked back in the late 1950s, but at any rate, it's a huge deal here. Almost everyone has the day off from work (although Elon and Josh had to work half-days at their internships) to allow time for celebrations.

We all took the morning kind of easy (savoring the chance to get a few extra hours of sleep in between days with 5, 6 or 7 a.m. wake-up calls), but finally dredged up enough motivation to schlep ourselves to the big holiday parties at the beach. Just as we were walking out the door, monsoon rains rolled in, so we sheltered ourselves on the patio as golf ball-sized raindrops fell from the sky and seriously debated just how much we actually wanted to go do anything ... but the rain subsided after about 15 minutes and we hit the road. I split a taxi with Krista, Molly and Ryan, and it took us about an hour and a half to get from our home in East Legon to the beach, because beach-route traffic was horrendous. When we finally reached our destination, congestion was just as bad -- but this time with bodies rather than cars. There were people EVERYWHERE, mostly speaking (or shouting) in Twi. The four of us started wandering around to find the entrance, but the hoards of people and sopping-wet mud from the earlier rain made walking difficult. We finally found an entrance, but they were charging five cedis for entry. Some members of our group who were already at the beach had called earlier to inform us of a back entrance only charging one cedi for entry, and being frugal travelers, we went searching for cheaper admission. (We kind of thought that, logically, the back entrance at a beach would be the ocean. Apparently, this is not so in Ghana.) Along the way we met up with the last members of our group, so there were about nine of us total, and trooped together along the side of the road, following Ghanaians who looked like they knew where they were going. As we neared the back entrance, a man approached us and asked if we were trying to get into the beach, because he could help get us in. I don't think anybody actually ever told the man we wanted his assistance, but he kind of latched on to us anyway and there wasn't a lot that we could do to shake him. The back entrance was a mess, because it was one small gate and there were 40 to 50 people clamoring and pushing to get through. It was stressful and uncomfortable, and as I took a glance around the group everybody's faces seemed to reflect the same doubtful feelings. Our so-called guide advised us to watch our pockets, so I swung my purse to the front of my body and put a hand over it, for good measure. (Despite our best efforts, Ryan had six cedi pickpocketed.) Molly grabbed my hand and we shoved through, slipping and sliding in the mud. Everybody made it across the threshold, and we trudged through the slop towards the beach. On the way, we saw a Ghanaian boy, who was probably about 11 years old, pee on the side of the path while still walking ... which was lovely. There was eventually another gate to pass through, less crowded than the first, and guarded by a policeman with a HUGE automatic gun. I never really found out if this whole one-cedi-entry operation was legitimate or not, but the police are sort of corrupt here (but not dangerous, at least), so that presence could have really gone either way. We finally made it on to the beach, and the so-called guide man demanded payment. He actually said it as "Pay me!" Not so subtle. We all handed him one cedi (we'd never paid the admission fee, anyway), and he got really mad and demanded that we all pay him three cedis. You can bargain for almost anything here, and we said we would only pay one cedi each. He continued to get mad, and some people handed him a little more money, and we all quickly walked away from the situation. Anyway, that's the story of how we got to the beach.

The beach itself was super, super crowded. Even the La Jolla Shores on a Saturday couldn't compare. There were also vendors set up all over the place and a stage in the center, which added to the chaos. We had to find the rest of our group, so we walked by the stage and found them pretty quickly. It's not too hard to pick out four light-skinned people in a sea of Ghanaians. Everyone, both the early- and recent-arrivers, were already tired and weary from our multitude of beach adventures. We were disappointed, too, because the live music was delayed. We found a restaurant and a table and ordered some sustenance: food and beer. After about an hour (restaurant service is slooooow here), our table was covered with several plates of potato chips (french fries) and we were happy. We got to sort of just relax and observe for a while, and the view was intriguing. Impromptu soccer matches could be seen all over the beach, and there were cute kids everywhere. We definitely noticed the obvious overconsumption of alcohol -- if there's one thing Ghanaians love, it's GIN. People were chugging it in these little clear cups, straight, with no ice and no mixer. So, clearly, people got rowdy. I don't really think we were celebrating with the uppercrust of Ghanaian society. As we were sitting, we'd be visited by one vendor or another about every five minutes. They'd be selling the most random items you could think of -- sunglasses, kebabs, jewelry, pirated DVDs, etc. This is common practice all over Accra, and vendors (or "hawkers" is another name) stand on, and sometimes in, the highway trying to sell you everything from ice cream to toilet paper. We're pretty used to it by now, and have our deflection down to an art. Music finally started to play sometime between five and six o'clock, but it really wasn't all that exciting, so some of us headed home soon thereafter. As we proceeded to exit the beach, we walked past the public bathrooms, which at the beach were so awful and crowded that we saw several young ladies relieving themselves in the completely public areas just outside the bathrooms. It's common practice in Ghana to urinate pretty much wherever, but still shocking whenever I see it happen. I think this beach wasn't quite the underbelly of Accra, but it might have been close.

We found a taxi fairly quickly and headed back to Legon. There were still tons of people heading to the beach when we departed, so we may have left the party very, very early, but we returned home, had dinner, did some reading and fell asleep early to be well-rested for work the next morning. An uneventful ending to a crazily eventful day.