Never Eat Something If The Cook is Skeptical

The next day I grabbed my pack and walked back through the city to the bus station for my second attempt to get out of Accra to see the slave-castles of Elmina.

On the bus I met a Canadian archaeologist and his Ghanaian 'friend', we planned to share a taxi from the bus stop to a hotel. The first hotel we got to was fully booked. The second hotel we got to was fully booked. When we got to the third hotel only to find that yes, it too was fully booked, I started to get a wee bit nervous. It was Saturday, and Saturdays in Ghana is funeral day. If the person who died is old than funerals are huge celebrations and hundreds of people come to the party. There must have been a lot of funerals in Cape Coast that Saturday cause there sure weren't any hotel rooms!

The driver said he knew a hotel that would not be full, when we pulled up to a huge place on the edge of the ocean I knew I wouldn't be staying here. A single room was going to set me back USD$150 a night. I said goodbye to the guys and got straight back in the cab. It was dusk now and this ride was getting more and more expensive, I wondered if the drive around town was
going to cost me as much as a night in this fancy hotel that uses US dollars and not the national currency.

We tried two more hotels with zero luck and finally the driver suggests a small village about a half hours drive out of town.

I never got the name of this town, wish I had though. It was small and sat along either side of a highway. The room was big and cheap which made up for the price of my hour and a half long taxi ride. I asked the driver to come back for me in the morning, he was the only person on Earth who knew where I was, even I had no idea.

I got the distinct feeling that I was the only guest in this hotel. The owner asked if I would like dinner and I said I wanted to try kemke. I didn't actually know what kemke was but dozens of women were selling it along the highway and apparently it was the staple food of the town. He told his sister to prepare some for me and she covered her mouth and dramatically gasped
"aahhh!"

Ghanaian's have this amazing ability to make sounds instead of words to communicate. Before the 'ahhhhh' she made this clicking noise with her tongue. Her brother replied with a deep "eh'' and she replied back with a higher "eh". She double-checked with me that I really wanted kemke, I
should have taken this as a warning, but I was pretty set on trying it. If however I had listened to her subtle warnings I would not have gone through the ordeal of trying to swallow the stuff and ultimately having to dry-wretch two times. But if I hadn't gotten kemke then the feral cats would not have had dinner that night. Of course I told her I liked the meal, she seemed chuffed and asked for my number.

At 7am I left the hotel and wandered through the village. People were bathing in buckets out the front of their houses and many were already dressed in brightly coloured shirts and dresses, it was nearly time for church.

As people started to flow into the churches I followed behind them. There were three to choose from, they're all the same to me, so I just picked the one with the largest crowd. I couldn't bring myself to actually go in to the church so I sat outside the door, I just wanted to be close enough to hear the beautiful singing. Out the back a group of children were setting up chairs in the shade of a tree. They kept looking at me, waving and giving me a thumbs up. Eventually a couple of the older boys were coaxed in to approaching me. They asked if I have a camera and can I take their picture. I pull it out of my pocket and all the kids ran over. They  wave their arms around frantically or pose like American rappers. I would show them the image on the screen and they would all squeal and laugh hysterically and point at themselves. I took dozens of photos and as adorable as they were I feared that this game would not get old for them. Eventually the priest came and the children were called to start their little service under the tree.

I left the church to sounds of the singing from the children outside and mixed with the singing coming from the adults inside.