From Relaxing Wind to Harsh Reality- Two Short Stories

Tuesday, June 1st, 2010
Accra, Ghana- Telecentre Bed and Breakfast

Note: as the internet here is quite bad, pictures are currently unavailable for posting. :(

From Relaxing Wind to Harsh Reality- Two Short Stories

1. Walking down to the coast of Accra for the first time after getting out of the taxi and paying a whooping one cedi for entry, the setting was quite different from what we had previously experienced: Open space. Open space. But before we actually got to the coastline, we were greeted by friendly vendors who of course wanted to sell items to us “tourists”. Declining for now, we proceeded down the coastline where the sound of the waves hitting the shore reminded me a little bit of Hawaii, eh… but not really. The sand was comparably more dug in, a lane of garbage could be seen for as long as the eye could see. Still, my father and I walked back and forth along, picking up sand dollars and nice rocks for collecting. After a spell, we went to sit and had a drink. This is where we were almost immediately flooding by sellers, all offering items that definitely suited tourist tastes as compared to the Market we had been to previously. One particular person, (insert name), made an extreme effort to be friendly, so much that dad allowed him to sit with us and have a drink. There, he told us of how he wanted to attend college in three years and currently was finishing up secondary school. However, when we asked about why he wasn’t there at school on a Tuesday, his response that he had to work to feed his family was a bit… unconvincing. All in all, the three of us, with occasional interruptions by vendors, sat and enjoyed the waves and wind… I must say, it was probably the most relaxing time I had there in Accra. As we got up to leave however, we encountered a slight problem. The guy sitting with us wanted to come with us. Not exactly sure as to how to proceed, my father ended up just allowing him to ride with us. Once we got to the Museum, we got out and proceeded to say goodbye to which he responded, “Oh sir. I thought you wanted me to accompany you. Now I need taxi money to get back to the beach. I need about three to four cedi.” Shocked, I simply left to let my dad deal with it. When my dad put up and gave him two cedi, he quickly said thanks and ran off.

2. Walking down the area called the “arts center”, we were flooded with people wanting us to show them their items that they had for sale. One particular person, who was playing an interesting percussion instrument, caught my attention. Two sphere shaped balls with some material inside where connected by a strong string. By using a combination of shaking and hitting the two eggs against each other, one could effectively create a Hi-Hat and Snare drum combination. Wanting to buy this interesting instrument, he did something that no other person has done before, he told me to offer a price first. “I am your friend,” he said to me. “That’s why you offer me first, so there is no pressure. No pressure. I want you to have this from Moses (his name).” Testing his sincerity, I said one cedi for one set. Of course, he laughed and proceeded to say two for fifteen cedi, followed by a small speech about the quality of the material and how he needed more “support”. Using my bargaining techniques and his continued effort to be extremely friendly with me, I eventually paid him five cedi for two sets. What I didn’t understand however, is that as soon as I put the money in his hand, he disappeared, never to talk to me again.

Why is it… that whenever a deal is struck, the friendliness goes away? When money is put into one’s hand, why is the desire to know a person disappear? My father had talked to another man while I was doing business with the instrument guy, and when we got into the taxi to leave, he said, “See that guy that waved to us? He was with us the entire time, but never tried to force his products on us, but rather just stood back and watched as we attempted to fend off the flood of sellers at every point. He was with us to the end, but ended up getting nothing from us. The kid that’s next to him, that’s his child and they sleep over there. Yeah, next to that hut on the ground…”

And that… I suppose… is the harsh reality that I have to try to understand. It probably is extremely difficult and somewhat humbling to approach a total stranger and attempt to get them to buy your stuff, but that’s what they have to do… to survive. Not thrive, survive. And so maybe, once that money is put into their hands, the emotion and effort stops… so that they can save up that energy for the next customer… or for the child that they sleep with at night.