Country Folk and the Tro Tro Drivers of Ho. . .

This past weekend I and the other five interns I have been traveling with went to the Volta region in the eastern part of Ghana, near the border with Togo. We boarded a tro tro in Accra on Saturday morning, waited roughly 2 hours before it filled up, and headed to a city called Ho. Yes, Ho. We were joined on the tro tro by a traveling bus salesman. I had no idea that such a thing existed, but apparently we live in a sick, depraved, and hopeless world where such things are permitted. Just as we were about to depart, a well dressed man with a briefcase boarded the bus and addressed the passengers in Twi. Not speaking Twi, I assumed he was the bus driver and was giving very important instructions on the weather in Ho, what to do in the event of an emergency, etc., etc. Ha! Then another man boarded the bus and began driving, and the well dressed man just kept talking. Eventually he opened his briefcase and displayed a small package of pills that supposedly cure all possible aches and pains anywhere on your body. After taking them for 5 days, you will never ache again. Ever. Sounded pretty awesome, but I decided to pass. Others, unfortunately, did not have quite the market savvy I did, and much to my surprise, people bought this guy’s crap. After about 15 minutes of listening to this unbearable live-action infomercial repeated in English (actually a performance very much like you see on late night TV in the States) the bus pulled over and let the salesman off. Unfortunately, they let another one on. The second guy was selling a self-help book that looked like it was from the mid-90s and brilliantly titled “Life Guide.” People bought that crap too. I was losing faith in humanity.

Anyway, we arrived in Ho, had lunch, and then our group split into separate camps. A few of us wanted to head up to a place called Amedzofe to the north of Ho to spend the night and hike to a waterfall the next morning. Two others were concerned that we might not be able to get a car back from there on a Sunday, so they headed south. The four of us remaining took a tro tro to a little village called Fume, bought a mango, and headed up toward a lodge called Mountain Paradise where we planned to stay the night. A small sign in Fume informed us that Mountain Paradise was only 4km “uphill,” so we decided to hike it. Understatement of the year. It was 4km directly up the side of a mountain. An hour and a half later, 4 very exhausted interns reached the top of the mountain just as the sun set. The Mountain Paradise is very aptly named. Our room was nice, though somewhat bug infested (it is the rainforest). The bathroom had no electricity, so showers were had by lantern-light and FREEZING cold mountain-top water. In the morning we sat on the patio overlooking a large valley and had a breakfast of eggs, toast, and fresh brewed rainforest-grown coffee.

After breakfast, we began what we thought would be a 45-minute hike to Amedzofe and the waterfall. A sidenote on rural Ghana: After spending 2 weeks in Accra, I realized that I had put up a certain guard against strangers who wanted to talk to me. In Accra I get the feeling that strangers only talk to you if they are trying to sell you something or scam you. So as we hiked through the mountain villages, I was immediately suspicious when everyone we passed stopped and talked to us. The conversation was pretty standard: as we passed, people say: “Hello, you are welcome,” which is quite nice, and then typically ask where we are from, what state in the U.S., say thank you, welcome us again, and then walk away. This happened 3 or 4 times before I realized people were just being nice, and not actually trying to sell me anything or rip me off. I unfortunately became a little too trusting of “country folk”. . . more on that later.

Anyway, after about an hour of hiking, we came to a sign that said “Amedzofe falls, 5km.” We were concerned about whether or not we would be able to hike up and back, so asked a guy on the side of the road where we could get a taxi or a tro tro up a little further. He said there were no cars on Sunday, but that he could take us up in his truck and then drive us back to Ho (for a fee of course). We asked him how much he would want, and he said “fifteen.” An explanation of Ghanaian currency is required to understand this story: in 2007, Ghana introduced a new currency called the “Ghana Cedi,” which is roughly equivalent to the U.S. dollar and denoted “GH¢.” The old currency is called the Old Cedi, and there are 10,000 Old Cedi in one Ghana Cedi. Only the Ghana Cedi is in circulation now, but people often still refer to prices in Old Cedi, which requires you do the conversion in your head. So, when someone says “fifteen,” that might mean GH¢15 ($15) or 15,000 Old Cedi ($1.50). We, of course, assumed the guy meant GH¢15, as it would cost more than 1.50 in gas just to get us up there and back to Ho. In any event, it seemed a fair price, and we agreed.

As soon as we agreed to the price, however, the driver looked very confused. He talked to his friend briefly (in what I assume was Ewe) and tried to clarify, saying it costs “Fifteen Thousand.” I asked “fifteen thousand Old Cedi?” and he responded by saying “Yes, it’s one point five.” 15,000 Old Cedi is indeed 1.5 Ghana Cedi, which is WAY too little, but I assumed he actually meant 15, was just confused, and in any event we would pay him 15, so agreed anyway. More on this saga later….

We were driven up to the town of Amedzofe where we checked in at the recently opened “tourist office.” The tourist office charges a fee of GH¢3 to support its community ecotourism project and a guide then brings you down to the falls. The falls are about a 40 minute (very exciting) hike from the town. The hike becomes VERY steep at several points, and absent the ropes along the trail, would be nearly impossible. Our guide of course bounded down the hill as if it were nothing, but we were each at some point simply hanging from ropes trying to repel our way down this hill. The waterfall was awesome, and though I knew it would make for an uncomfortable tro tro ride back to Accra, we all got at least part way in the water.

After spending some time at the falls, we all hiked back UP the hill along the ropes and got in the car back to Ho. We arrived in Ho and I had the driver take us to the tro tro station where we could get a tro tro back to Accra. As soon as we arrived we were, as usual, swarmed by tro tro drivers all trying to herd us into their cars. I asked them all to wait a minute while I paid the driver that had brought us. The driver said “one point five” again, and one of the other interns, Casey, took out GH¢5 and offered to the driver. He refused to take it and just repeated “one point five.” Casey then tried to offer him GH¢15. He refused that too, and then said “fifteen thousand.” At this point, the tro tro drivers had noticed something going on, and had gathered all around us. I asked one of the tro tro drivers if he understood what this guy wanted, but he didn’t seem to understand either. The driver then took a single Ghana Cedi and said “this is one.” I responded “Yes it is.” The driver then said “I want FIFTEEN THOUSAND.” I looked around at all the tro tro drivers who had gathered around us now, and they all looked bewildered, confused, and a little entertained at this country man who though I would have the equivalent of $15,000 to give him for a ride.

I tried to explain to this man that I could have bought his pickup truck and gas for a year for less than GH¢15,000, but he didn’t seem to understand. I offered another GH¢5, making the total GH¢20, but explained that we had agreed on 15, and that there was no way he could get 15,000. One of the tro tro drivers spoke to him in Ewe and told me what he actually wanted was 1.5 million. 1.5 million old Cedi would be GH¢150. All of the tro tro drivers were now arguing with the guy. One of them had taken the GH¢20 from Casey and was trying to convince the guy to take it. By this time, I had gotten slightly separated from my group, as every tro tro driver in Ho had gathered around me and this guy as we argued over the price. Luckily for me, most of the tro tro drivers seemed to be on my side, as they were all arguing with him (though I have no idea what they were saying).

I think the driver recognized that no one was on his side, because he kept trying to get me to get back in his car and go with him to the gas station to fill his tank. I realized he a) wanted to get me away from all the tro tro drivers who recognized he was trying to rip me off, and b) get me away from the station so that he could refuse to take me back until I paid whatever he demanded. I of course refused to go anywhere with him. This went on for several more minutes, and I finally reached into my pocket (where I had thankfully placed GH¢10 separate from my wallet in case of such an event) and said “I’ll give you what I’ve got.” I pulled out the GH¢10, and told the guy he could take it, or not, but that it was twice the price we had agreed and I had no more to give him. The tro tro drivers all rose up in a chorus, I assume telling the guy to take it, and he eventually did. Thus ended a harrowing battle. There’s a pretty funny picture I will try to upload. Only a sliver of my face is visible from within the mob while I am engaged in the heated debate.

This entry is now 4 days old as I have been writing it waiting for the internet to come back. I now have the internet, so that’s the end of my stories for now! I can't upload pics, but one of the other interns (Alicia) has posted a bunch of pics from our travels on Flikr, so you can see pics there: http://www.flickr.com/photos/alicia1216/sets/72157605584690278/. The first page is mostly Cape Coast and Kakum, the second page is Ho and Amedzofe. Sorry for the long post!