Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Chapter 11: Ghana
The first customs official I approached told me to remove all the panniers, unpack
their contents and to unfold both my sleeping bag and air mattress. Before I complied, I
quickly pulled out my letters of introduction from Canada, Rome and the Ghanaian Ambas-
sador in London. As he read the letters, I lined up all my panniers ready to be opened and
emptied. However, the official changed his mind and told me to stop. He then just asked
me to tell him what was inside. After a quick explanation he left it at that and proceeded
to help me reload the bike. He told me to proceed to the next checkpoint which was only a
few meters away. I came upon two individuals one seated and the other standing. The one
standing was not in any uniform and ordered me to unpack. I ignored him for I was paying
attention to the seated official who was in uniform.
The one standing got upset and started to lecture me about how, and I quote “the
white man did not respect the black man in a position of authority.” It was difficult to re-
main quiet, but I did, especially when I was constantly being called a 'white man'. A quick
aside: throughout the tour, I tried not to focus on the isolation I sometimes felt due to the
colour of my skin, but this yahoo was ramming it in my face. I wanted to say to him that it
was the uniform worn by a person, any person, that I respected and not some guy in street
clothes who could have been the local football coach with a small penis trying to exercise
power that he didn't have. But, caution was the greater part of valor and I kept quiet. When
the seated official told me to unpack, I was quick to comply constantly addressing him as
'sir'toprovetothesmall-penis-football-coach thathewaswrong,thatIdidrespecta“black
man” in authority. Even though the inspection took about an hour, I was patient and cordial
throughout the process and was finally permitted to repack the bike.
I immediately left the area and didn't stop to change any money or even eat my
lunch. However, after 5 kilometres or so, I felt lethargic and had to eat something. I quickly
snacked on honey and water and pushed on for another 32 kilometres until I arrived in
Mpataba. I approached the Catholic mission to get permission to set up camp. Since the
priest lived 12 kilometres away in the opposite direction, the caretaker, Gabriel, let me stay
in the guesthouse. I treated Gabriel to a drink at the local bar and then returned to take a
bucket bath. After changing into trousers and a dress shirt, I strolled around the village and
enteredashopwhereIfinallymanagedtochangesomemoneyintothelocalcurrency.When
Ireturnedtomyroom,Ibegantowriteinmyjournalandquicklyanaudienceof20children
gathered watching me through the doorway and the open window. I stopped writing to take
this photo and laughed as they posed.
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