Power, Privilege, Forgiveness, and Redemption

Over a year ago while I was back home in Providence, RI I attended service at Cathedral of Life Christian Assembly (COLCA), head pastor Rev. Dr. Jeffery A. Williams.  While attending service there Pastor Jeff did a series of sermons on “Forgiveness”.  When I first heard those sermons I internalized the word and applied it to my life at the time and some family issues that had been going on.  On Sunday October 4, 2009 once again I could clearly hear Pastor Jeff’s message in my head playing over and over as if it were a recording.  The gist of the message was; if we choose not to forgive someone that has done us wrong we are tied to them forever and in essence unable to let go of the guilt, hurt, or whatever other negative feelings there may be.  Forgiveness not only sets free the person that trespassed against you but it will set you free as well. I never thought I would see forgiveness play itself out in a real life example over a year later and half a world away.

On Sunday, October 4, 2009 my second day in South Africa I set out to participate on one of the Semester at Sea Field Practicum opportunities (a Field Practicum is typically led by one of the faculty and can be directly linked to a class that a particular faculty is teaching aboard the ship while we are at sea), this one would have us visit Robben Island (former prison and leper colony),  for an “in-depth exploration of the island guided by South African peace activist (and former SAS professor) Terry Crawford-Browne”.  The group of 30 took the 7:30 am staff ferry to Robben Island, as we were boarding Terry informed us that this ferry that is now used to transport the workers of the island and the children that attend school on the island was one of the transport vessels used to shuttle the prisoners to Robben Island.  As we boarded the “staff ferry”,  Terry informed us that when the prisoners were loaded on board they would be shackled to each other and put below, the 45 minute ferry ride was uneventful other then the day was overcast  with a wind blowing, which made the seas choppy.

We arrived to Robben Island and as we were getting off the ferry it occurred to me that one of the people on this ferry was going to be our tour guide through the prison, a former prisoner, here they were on a ferry that may have once brought them to this island to detain them and now they come willingly as a means to earn an income and to tell their story and in part the history of their country along with some of the atrocities that occurred on its way to freedom from Apartheid.  As we were about to get off the ferry Terry pointed out that the ferry docked at the pier was the very one that brought Nelson Mandela over to Robben Island.  Nelson Mandela is Robben Island’s most famous prisoner though the island itself has a long history; “amongst its first permanent inhabitants were political leaders from various Dutch colonies, including Indonesia, later  The Moturu Kramat, a sacred site for Muslim pilgrimage on Robben Island, was built in 1969 to commemorate Sayed Abdurahman Moturu, the Prince of Madura. Moturu, one of Cape Town's first 'imams', was exiled to the island in the mid 1740s and died there in 1754. Muslim political prisoners would pay homage at the shrine before leaving the island” (Wikipedia 2009).

We were first taken to the beach front home of the penguin colony on Robben Island, though currently the penguins are struggling to thrive in part due to the over 30,000 rabbits that are inhabitants of the same small island competing for  habitat.  You might think well Penguins and rabbits can coexist they don’t eat the same thing, well they may not eat the same things but they look to nest in the same privacy and so far the rabbits are winning.

After seeing both penguin and Rabbit in feet’s distance from each other we went on to the visitors center where we informed that visitors were often turned away or not allowed to see their loved ones even though they may have traveled thousands of miles for days on end, or when they were allowed to visit with their loved one, at times were they themselves detained from leaving the island for hours on end; since they were not allowed to write things down, this method was used to deter the visitor to transport direct news or information to people on the outside. 

We continued on our walk past the Moturu Kramat mosque on the island and then walked over to the Leper cemetery, our walk continued on to the Robert Sobukwe House, where Robert Sobukwe was held in solitary confinement for his crimes, uprising and getting others to do the same against the apartheid regime.  Sobukwe was not allowed to speak to anyone, the guards that were responsible for guarding him were not allowed to speak to him, it is said that this affected his mental stability later in life.  It was a simple looking concrete holding with windows, were it not for the fence and large lights in the immediate area surrounding it, one would think it was a very humble residence.  

Our walk then took us to the limestone quarry where the prisoners of Robben Island worked, nicknamed the University due to the fact that many prisoners received instruction from fellow prisoners that were more educated than they.  We stood next to a pile of rocks about 3 feet high while Terry told us of how Nelson Mandela himself was one of the workers at the quarry, then Terry turned to the pile of rocks and said “upon a return, a prisoner’s reunion, Mandela placed a rock here and his action was followed by each of the prisoners that were here”.  The pile of rocks was their way of commemorating their return to a place that once was their prison.  

From their Terry took us to the place where we would eat our lunch and hear him tell us of what it is that he does as a peace activist, The Church of The Good Sheppard.  Terry refurbished the church and is its current pastor.  He has great plans for this simple yet beautiful building as a means to serve the community on Robben Island and to continue to tell the story of all of its past inhabitants. We then continued on by bus for a tour of the residential area of the island; about 100 people currently live on this island.  There is an elementary school which caters to about 40 students with 2 teachers for instructing.  We rode past a Taiwanese shipping boat wrecked on the coast line, when the wreckage originally occurred the prison warden thought it was an attempt to free Nelson Mandela and detained the ship’s crew until matters were cleared up.  The wreckage sits in its original location though it is not the only ship that wrecked on Robben Island, due to its location in the bay many ships and smaller boats have wrecked on the island.  From there our tour continued on to the prison, when we arrived we got off the bus and were met at the prison doors by a former prisoner who took us down the halls and into the courtyards of the place which once held him here.  He showed us Nelson Mandela’s cell and took us the the courtyard where many important messages and even a manuscript and its copy were kept in hiding in Mandela’s garden.  

One of our students asked him what he had been arrested for, and he listed an unending list of charges from terrorism, to possession of bomb making materials.  All I could think about while he was talking was “one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter”.

I did not go into specific detail about the prison or even Mandela’s cell because it seems so irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.  It was a cell, he was denied his freedom as were all of the prisoners, they were made to sleep on little more than a 6X2’ carpet and prisoners of Mandela’s status were denied interaction with most other prisoners.  Some were beaten and mistreated, while others were denied access to be educated.  All in the name of Apartheid, a system of legal racial segregation enforced by the National Party government in South Africa between 1948 and early 1994.  To think its only been 15 years that South Africa has been an independent country able to elect Nelson Mandela and other former prisoners president of their new independent country.  As our tour ended we walked past a sign of prisoners on a ferry boat with a placard in front of them which read “Freedom” and then we walked past the tall fence outside of the prison area.  

Nelson Mandela served 18 years of a 64 year prison sentence, for speaking and acting out against Apartheid, while many others like Steven Biko gave their lives for the same cause.  And it happened in my lifetime, I remember when the song "I dont want to play Sun City" came out and hearing of Nelson Mandela being wrongfully imprisoned and then when he was freed, I was in college, and when he was elected president too.   It seemed so long ago, yet not long enough. 

As the day came to a close I felt emotionally drained and kept thinking back to Pastor Jeff’s words about forgiveness, and understood how the former prisoners of Robben Island now come every day to this place, that once imprisoned them, to work and tell their story, and how they have come to forgive those that imprisoned them, and yes by our guide's own admission he has forgiven those that imprisoned him.  They are living in a freedom we can only hope to live.

A great introduction to South Africa

While on this voyage I have come to realize that the small amount of time;  4 days in Spain, 5 days in Morocco, 4 days in Ghana, 6 days in Cape Town, is never enough to really explore a country.  This time in each country merely gives us time to sample some of each country’s food, a little of their culture, and experience some of the great things the country has to offer.  Nowhere was this more evident than in South Africa.

As usual PL, ED, and I were up on the 7^th deck in the faculty staff lounge to watch the sunrise over our latest port.  Dawn came early at 530 I could see its brilliant color peeking through my cabin window even before we went up to the 7^th deck.  When we arrived we were met by an unusual amount of other staff and faculty who are usually not there.  Then by 6am the students were out on the 7^th and 8^th decks.  PL and I were a little annoyed, usually at sunrise on an arrival date there were only a handful of people there.  Now we were vying for space.  We watched the South African mountain range bathed in bright hues of orange and red and then as the sun started to peak from its resting place behind the mountain there was an audible gasp.  

We were amazed and for the next few minutes captivated in silence as the sun ascended into its rightful place in the sky.   Blinding and brighter than I had ever seen it, on this voyage it seems I am more aware of the sun ascending and descending from the heavens, I’m usually most reflective at these times and today was no different.  As the ship continued on its path into Cape Town we noticed to our left a quiet distant island, Robben Island; once a prison which held many anti Apartheid fighters including Nelson Mandela and then on the right the amazing site that is Table Mountain as the sun lightened up the sky the brand new 68,000 seat World Cup Soccer Stadium came into full view.  We were all so captivated by the beauty that The Cape Town harbour was revealing to us as the morning grew brighter.  We screeched in delight as we realized there were harbor seals swimming and frolicking alongside the ship, it was as if they were coming out to welcome us to the Cape Town Harbour.

As usual the Pilot boarded the ship and assisted the Captain in navigating into the port, the Captain had previously explained this port was a little tricky since the entry way was very narrow and where we were scheduled to birth (park) would require us to make a sharp turn.  We were so unconcerned with this somewhat technical process so much so that we went to breakfast and get prepared for our disembarking.

My first day in South Africa was slow paced.  I had a few hours to kill before I was to lead a trip to walk amongst the baboons.  So I met my shipboard brothers, PL, ED, and GH in Tymitz square to disembark, when we first arrived someone pointed out that PL, GH, and I were all wearing green tops, looking like we had planned it.  It was just a funny coincidence.  Well we all hit the mall which was literally 100 steps from our ships birth.  We went and exchanged our US dollars to Rand, a nice exchange of 7.4 Rand for each US Dollar.  Then we walked about the beautiful Harbour area with its nice mall, and great little shops along the way.  Before we knew it, it was time to head back to the ship to prepare to for my trip to the Baboon sanctuary.

Due to urban Sprawl in the Cape Town area, baboons are being relegated to small slivers of natural forest between suburban neighborhoods.  As you can imagine this is not only a problem for the baboons, but the surrounding neighborhoods as well.  When we arrived to one of the neighborhoods where a non-profit group was keeping track of the baboons, we were immediately greeted by a foot chase.  One of the guardians of the baboon was chasing the Alpha Male trying to prevent him from escaping the protected area, with little success.  We saw al Tommy ran through an opening with ease, quickly crossed the street and jumped to the top of a 6 foot fence with the greatest of ease.  Our guide informed us that this in fact is one of the problems.  Tommy being the Alpha male is larger than the rest of the baboons in his troop partly because he runs into the neighborhood and steals human food.

We entered the baboon sanctuary and were led by one of two guides through thick, high grass and led about 100 yards from the street to where two handlers were sitting watching the troop of about 30 baboons.  One of the guides led half of the troop past a few of the baboons directly into the thick of a tree.  Before I could even prepare myself, I and 6 of the students were standing within 5 to 10 feet of these beautiful baboons, there were about 25 of them and about 5 youngsters.  They were all over, in the trees above us and at eye level.  The youngsters frolicked and played almost at our feet.  Our guide constantly reminding us to be very mindful of our proximity to the youngsters, a cry from them could send the entire troop into a frenzied assault on any one of us.   We were introduced to the former Alpha male, kind of the grandfather of the troop, George.  The entire time George was in this one spot just observing his surroundings.  The guide informed us that George had lost his canine teeth and could no longer fight to protect his status in the troop and was now just an elder in the troop, still respected but no longer the Alpha male.  Just then Tommy returned from his run of the neighborhood and we were further instructed to watch him at all times, as he was clearly watching us and if he didn’t like something we were doing we could be in danger.  We were there amongst the baboons for about an hour though it did not seem as long.  As we were walking throughout the troop taking pictures our guide pointed out a mother baboon with the youngest of the troop, a small baby that had been born about a week ago, they were just adorable.  As we were fawning over  the baby we heard a ruckus about 20 feet from us, the guide said, “quick , quick, this way” and started to escort us past George and away from the troop, no sooner had we passed George we heard screaming and clearly saw fighting.  Two female baboons were going at it and it was for real.  One female had her teeth out and had the other by the head and was gnashing into her back biting and jabbing. The guide informed us he had been watching this one female constantly trying to grab one of the baby baboons and finally the mother of said baby tried to put her in her place.  As the guide was explaining what happened we saw Tommy rush over to the mêlée and intercede, teeth full out.  He was breaking up the fight.  It was all so fascinating yet scary, our guide informing us that we surely did not want to be in the midst of a full out fight.  He led us out and just like that our experience with walking amongst the baboons was over.  It was amazing, while we were in the troop they seemed to calm and docile and just like that our adrenaline was pumping.  It was a wonderful experience. 

Crossing the Equator

The Morning of Monday September 28, 2009 started unlike any other morning in my life.  I was awaken by loud yet distant sounding clamoring as I rose and woke I then discovered what the racket was.  It was Neptune Day!  Neptune Day on Semester at Sea is the day when we (on ship) cross the equator.  We were about to go from slimy pollywogs to shellbacks.  I immediately jumped out of bed and threw on an old t-shirt and old shorts and made my way to 7^th deck aft where we would begin our Neptune ceremony. 

By no means do I expect you to think that we were about to undergo any traditional “crossing the line” ritual, an initiation rite that many Navy service people have undergone.  It was tame in comparison to movies/videos, and accounts I have read.   But nonetheless we started by having “fish guts” (a yogurt and water mixture of red or green) poured over our head, we then jumped in our pool on the 7^th deck to rinse off and then promptly got out of the water kiss a “clean” (gutted out) fish.  We then continued on into polywogdom and received our official title as a “pollywog”.  We would then pay homage to King Neptune and Queen Minerva:  we presented ourselves in front of King Neptune (the Captain of the vessel) and Queen Minerva (Associate Dean of Students) for inspection.

It was at that point that some of the students and staff did the ritualistic shaving of their head.   The first person to go was a female student, Sarah.  This beautiful young woman had long flowing blonde hair sat in the first chair as we stood there cheering and applauding watching  the “barber” butcher her hair off and then take a pair of clippers and shave her head.  In case you were wondering  yours truly did not get her head  shaved, my vanity would not allow it.  However,  I enjoyed watching as students and staff took turns in the barber chairs and had theirs done. 

This concluded the Neptune Ceremony and though we did not cross the equator until 2308 (11:08pm) at 01 degree longitude and 0 degrees latitude we were shellbacks and enjoyed our “crossing”, another great day on the MV Explorer.

“He’s not heavy…”

This morning my alarm went off about 10 minutes after I woke up. I laid in quiet contemplation feeling the same heaviness I feel on the mornings that I have to attend a funeral. I showered got dressed and packed my bags, grabbed my camera and headed out the door. I then realized there was a lot of haze on the water, I would once again not see the sunrise over Ghana. I walked the 100 or so yards from the front door of my cottage to the beach front and walked along the beach towards the east where the sun would rise.

I could see it trying to burn off the haze and break through the clouds, for some reason the hymn “How Great Thou Art” (one of my favorites) popped into my head. I caught myself praying and humming as the sun broke through and burned off the haze. I noticed a couple of fishermen in their boats several hundred yards off the coast. I then noticed the traffic on the beach had started to pick up with women walking to market using the beach front as a cut through. All the while I tried to prepare myself for the Castles I was about to visit, I had read about slavery, studied that part of history but I was now standing on the coastline, one of the last, that many captives saw before they were shipped to the Americas and into a life of slavery. It all felt so heavy. I gave considerable thought to my own family’s migration to the US and how our struggles pale in comparison to the 400 years of migratory practices imposed on people of the Sub-Sahara African region. It was very heavy.


I joined a colleague for breakfast which had just started by the time I walked back to the outdoors dining area, an older woman who works at the University of the Bahamas, during our breakfast she turned to me and asked, “do you think these people are prepared for what we are about to see?” I boldly replied, “I don’t think I’m prepared and I have at least studied it”. We both nodded and continued eating our breakfast and small talk.

The ride to the Cape Coast Castle was a quiet one for me; I sat with my iPod on listening to my inspirational song selection trying to get the melancholy out of my system as if that would help. Our tour guide informed us the previous day that she was one of the guides that was available and traveled with the Obama’s when they came and visited the Cape Coast castle and the Michelle cried during the tour but that Barack was stoic during the visit.

     

We arrived and were quickly led in to meet our guide for the Cape Coast Castle tour. Our tour guide was a middle aged man, the lead tour guide of the Castle; he himself had given the Obama’s their tour. He provided us with great details of the history of the Castle and when it was erected and how many times it had changed hands, first the Portuguese, then the Dutch, then the British (the British actually maintained slaves at the Castle into the late 1800’s well after slavery had been abolished). He then led us to the first dungeon. The Male holding dungeon; this was a tunnel that winded in a downward slope into darkness which led to a greater cave dwelling with a room to the right and left. This space was where they would hold a thousand or more men at one time, chained together. In this space these men would relieve themselves, starve, be extremely ill, and even die.

He turned the lights off (installed for tourists) so that we could see just how pitch black it was in the space. As he walked us form one area to the other he gestured to the ground and said,” please watch your step as you walk on the caked feces and remains of ancestors that did not make it out alive”. That’s about the point where all my emotions came to the surface. The tears started to flow as I walked to the other room with the rest of my group and watched quietly as he introduced us to the keeper of the sanctuary that was placed in that room which once housed the tunnel that led the captives to the "Door of No Return". The keeper of the sanctuary performed a brief greeting for our safe voyage and to keep the spirits of the captives at rest. We continued on the tour to the other holding areas. Walking past the original dungeons which were nothing more than a crawl space on the roof top of the fortification which led to open space below, where captives would be forced down into total darkness for months at a time. We also walked past the observation tunnels, where soldiers would stand and watch the captives ensuring they were moving towards the door. Then we entered (or rather peeked into) a space shape of an isosceles triangle, the depth of the room was no more than 4 ft and about 8 feet at its longest point, this was the room where the women who objected to have sex with soldiers were held, this with no ventilation just a small 2X3 space looking towards the soldiers quarters. The next space was a much larger area where the women were held, this area was right next to the huge wooden black doors, a sign posted above the doors read “Door of No Return”.

 As our guide opened it the light from outside was blinding and as my sight adjusted I could see and hear the Atlantic Ocean as well as the members of the fishing community that now make this their home. I imagine this was not the case 400 years ago. Instead when that door was opened it was to lead captives onto small boats, 20 or so at a time to bring them to the slave ships that would then transport them across the Atlantic. What a completely different view it was now.

As a tour drew to a close we walked through some of the other cells and saw some of the other parts of the building, ED joined us, he was meeting one of the Faculty members to go visit a village and bring them a gift. I gave him a guided tour of what he missed and he too was moved by the information I provided, though not to tears.

We moved on to Elmina Castle, the largest of these castles in the Sub Sahara African countries, where we pretty much heard more of the same, these castles are located on the same coastline a few miles from each other and were operating at the same time. The one detail that really stuck out for me at this particular castle was that here like at Cape Coast the men and women were kept separate, however the Governor’s bedroom and the men’s mess hall was immediately about the courtyard of the female captives. At any given time the Governor could step out onto his balcony and select a female captive which would then be taken to a corner of the courtyard and forced up sets of wooden stairs to a hatch where she would then be taken to the Governor’s quarters and raped.

 Any female captive that rebelled or tried to escape would be made an example of and made to stand in the corner of the courtyard, that gets all the day’s sun, chained to a cannon ball (think Prometheus). All the women were checked prior to embarking on a slave ship to ensure they were not pregnant. Any female found pregnant was not allowed aboard the ship, instead allowed to give birth and set free, her child to be educated by the state, thus these castles also became the first conduit to educate a mulato population. How altruistic?


The ride back to the ship was solemn and quiet most slept some read and others reflected. It was a heavy day.

“Walking above the trees and swimming in the far end of my back yard”

My day started very early with a 5 am wakeup call from GH (another shipboard brother), I woke up gradually and got ready for an overnight excursion to the coast city of Elmina. But first I had a list of students that I told I would call at 6am to make sure they were up so they would not miss their bus.

Off to breakfast and onto buses. I won’t bore you with the details of our bus ride, but will mention there was an “Ugly American” on board which I will blog about later, and that Ghana’s country side is beautiful, riddled with great vistas and vegetation, and plenty of people urinating by the roadside. Women and some men carry everything on their heads, from huge pots with produce, to bins of cans of evaporated milk to sewing machines, basically anything. Ant hills are as tall as the average height man and there is one major road way which means there is a lot of traffic. People also sell their goods walking in the street, think every city you may have been to where folks are selling water, chips, the newspaper, or flowers times 20, because there will be that many or more people walking in the street at intersections trying to sell their goods to motorists. It was all so exciting.

Our first stop was a rest area where we could get soft drinks and snacks and use the rest room, which was much better than the road side rest rooms in Morocco, though the toilet didn’t flush and we had to pay .20 cedi to an attendant woman to use them, (still better than Morocco). It was while in line to get to the restroom that I spotted this lizard he was about a foot long and looked menacing from a distance, he and another lighter not so menacing looking lizard seemed to be playing tag with one another. After a few minutes I realized the lighter colored lizards were everywhere they just blended in well. Anyway, that was the excitement during our rest stop. Back on the bus for the 2 hour drive to Kakum National Park, when we had finally arrived the first thing I noticed was the sign on the lawn in the small round about

“Do Not Urinate Here, use the washroom” I guess the urination thing is a big problem in all of Ghana.

We were on our way up to the Canopy, I was excited for all of 5 minutes until I realized that the hike up included walking up these uneven steps made of small boulders that were unequal in size so that every other step was anywhere from between 1 foot to 2 feet high (and measurements in between). It was a HIKE UP for real, and steep. While I had realized we would have to walk up or hike up as it were, I guess I never considered the conditions. So after sweating from parts I didn’t realize had sweat glands, and hiking for what seemed like 30 or so minutes we were at the entrance of the Canopy area. A group of faculty and I waited at the end of the groups of students and finally about 30 or so minutes (maybe even more) it was finally our turn to take the last 15 wooden steps onto the bridges that would carry us across the top of this amazing rain forest, truly majestic views in every direction. No picture I could take would make the actual view justice. Since we were the last in our group we took our time. It was wonderful. We then hiked down and got back on the bus, just walking through the rainforest and appreciating it much more being on the ground.

Our next stop was lunch with the crocodiles at the Hans Cottage Botel. We ate lunch under a roof surrounded by a small lake where we could see the crocodiles sun bathing. After lunch we watched one of the waitress place some leftover chicken under one of the trees and within seconds the crocodiles came up out of the lake to eat. I didn’t know what I was more intrigued by, watching this magnificent 7 foot creature eat or trying to calculate how many shoes and bags I could get from the skin (sorry if I offend any conservationist that may be reading this). We continued to watch the crocs sun bath and get back in the water, as well as the variety of lizards some about a foot in length run around the courtyard, and then the weaver birds (whose nests looked like Christmas ornaments on one of the trees) captured our attention. It was all so exotic yet seemed so natural to just be sitting there watching this take place. It was now time to head back to our bus. As we got back we were informed that we would be giving up one of the buses that we had because another group’s bus broke down. So as we shifted over to the other bus, some of us sitting three to a double seat, and a couple on the floor, we braced ourselves for the 30 minute ride to our hotel for the evening.

We arrived in Elmina at about 5pm, a coastline village thriving with color and people. The bridge that we had to drive over was like a postcard (some of you may receive one just like this) it was vibrant with colors, there were people everywhere. It was beautiful. We drove a little further and then took a left down a dirt road not intended for a 40 seat passenger bus with 57 people on it. We arrived at our hotel and I could barely believe it. It was breathtaking. We were right on the water with the Atlantic Ocean on our left and our cottage on the right. It was truly a lot different than what we had just driven past, there were no thatched or tin roofs, with wooden plank walls, but instead neatly nestled white cottages. I was in love. As quick as I could I obtained my cottage key (I had been informed that I would not be provided a roommate?) and accepted some milk chocolate drink made of the local coca plant (yes the same coca plant) and shuffled off to my room. When I got there I dropped my bags and changed into my bathing suit, grabbed my camera and blackberry and hit the beach. I got to the beach and immediately decided I would swim, even thought the waves were way over my head and the surf seemed strong. I jumped in swam a few strokes and realized I was not strong enough to do much more and got out. I swam in the same Atlantic Ocean that was in my back yard except I was thousands of miles away. The same Atlantic Ocean that carries the spirits of slaves, these spirits I would feel so strongly the next morning during my meditation (see next blog). As I got out of the water I realized I was winded I walked up the beach and barely caught the sunset. After a nice lukewarm shower in a shower room that was about the size of my cabin on the ship (blog coming soon) I got dressed and headed for dinner. Dinner was AMAZING, chicken, beef, fish, jollof rice, white rice, sweet fried plantains, yam balls, and fries. Everything I had was fabulous. As we ate dinner, I was joined by a couple of students, we talked about our day and about what we were going to see tomorrow and then we realized that a bon fire had been started for us on the beach, a mere 100 feet away. I walked with the students over to the bon fire, watched them play a few rounds of Ha and then decided to call it a night. I knew I was going to get up early to watch the sunrise. What a great end to a great day.

"Oh Ghana!"

Today started as every other morning when our ship is to pull into port. Myself and a couple of my colleagues (that I affectionately refer to as my shipboard brothers, a blog for another day) woke up at 530am to see the sun rise and pull into a new port. As usual I woke up and called up ED and PL and told them we would meet up in the faculty staff lounge, since PL and I live across the hall from each other we actually met up on the stairwell leading to the upper decks. When we arrived to the faculty lounge it was evident that the sunrise would elude us, as we were faced with the thickest fog I had seen all voyage, you could barely see the front of the ship, none the less we sat in the lounge chatting with anticipation of what Ghana had in store for us.

As 6am rolled around the sun started to burn off the fog and I was able to get a couple of pictures of the sun’s appearance we also started to see something we had not seen. Ahead of us in the distance container ships lay in wait, almost directly in our path. Within a half hour we were right upon them and passing them as we continued on into the port of Tema. The excitement was mounting. At this point other ship board community members had awakened and joined us. Including our inter port student (a student that joins us at the previous port and sails with the community to the next port providing insight to the ship board community about their native homeland) Nii, had joined us on the outer deck.

Nii and the rest of us would have to wait, there was another ship in our parking space, the captain had to circle around several times which made for an interesting morning (PL referred to it as “the captain was doing doughnuts in the parking lot”, which is a pretty good description of exactly what we were doing). While we waited to actually arrive in Tema, we went below to enjoy breakfast. Our meal was disrupted by a momma and baby whale playing about 200 yards away from our ship. Yes, I saw a whale, though I have no picture proof, this sighting excited me and let me know that Ghana was going to be an enjoyable adventure.

As we came back above we finally were in port in Tema, Ghana. After Immigration and Customs cleared the ship (i.e. went through everyone’s passport and made sure everything was on the up and up) PL and I boarded a bus to go on a city tour which would take us through Tema into Accra. It would be an all day adventure. We were whisked away in the busy streets of Tema where everyone was buzzing; it’s a very active and industrious port town. One of the interesting sites we passed was a shell of a building which was the Meridian Hotel which actually sits on 0 degrees on the meridian (the longitude line), guests can vie to stay in the actual room which sits on the meridian, and in room 0 those guests are treated extra special. It actually took us a while to get through Tema passing Labadi beach we were arriving in Accra, we were taken to see several sights, like the Ohene Djan Stadium, where futbol (Soccer) is played. This stadium rivals the major American Football or Baseball stadiums in size. We also drove past the Independence Square: which commemorates the independence of Ghana, a first for Sub Saharan Africa. (Wikipedia, 2009) and then on to the Kwame Nkrumah Memorial Park; Kwame Nkrumah was Ghana’s first president, a graduate of Lincoln University and a member of Phi Beta Sigma fraternity.

The memorial park is a beautiful and fitting tribute to him. While there we were visited by some peacocks that did not show us their beautiful feathers but ducked under palms instead. After that we continued on to lunch and had the first of many wonderful Ghanaian meals. After lunch we continued on our tour and visited the WEB Dubois Memorial Centre for Pan African Culture. Another great tribute to a great legend in Pan African history; DuBois was invited to Ghana by president Nkrumah in 1961 and eventually died there at the age of 95 one day before fellow Alpha man, Martin Luther King Jr. delivered the “I Have a Dream” Speech in Washington DC (where a moment of silence was observed for DuBois), I saw a plaque presented by Alpha Phi Alpha, of which DuBois was a member, commemorated on January 15, 2007. Having had my fill of Black Greek history, we moved on to travel once again through the streets of Accra back to Tema and our ship. My first day in Ghana had been filled with great information both old and new. I was looking forward to what tomorrow would bring.

Malaria! The Side Effects may be harmful

Today I started to take my anti Malaria medication (Malarone).  Most of the ship has been informed they should consider taking it, most of the community will be on some form of anti Malaria medication for the next few country visits since we are going on safari’s in jungles, walking and taking hikes in remote areas of Ghana; safari’s in South Africa; visiting remote areas of India; same in Vietnam; the killing fields in Cambodia…you get the picture.  For the next several ports we will be visiting and we will be in high risk areas of Malaria exposure/contraction.

We also received a comprehensive hand out from our crack medical team on some of the side effects of the different varieties of anti malaria medications along with a schedule of when we should start taking the medication and if we should even be taking it.  For instance, when we travel to Vietnam we only need be concerned if we are traveling to the Western areas, including the central highlands and if we are traveling into Angkor Wat, Cambodia.

One of the other things in my role as Living Learning Coordinator has been to remind the residents on my floor to start their medication (if in fact they will be taking it).   Which, leads into a conversation of which medication they are taking and how long they should be taking it.   I then have to refer to the sheet given to us and reinforce the information on there, with an additional cautionary reminder.  See all of the literature I have read including a warning from my doctor states that one of the medicine’s side effects is that it “may” contraindicate birth control.  I always get stuck on that word “may”.  I don’t know about you but if I was a hyper sexed young adult on a ship going around the world with other hyper sexed young adults I wouldn’t want to bet all my chips on a “may”, and shouldn’t everyone be practicing safe chex in this day and age (you would think) but this is actually an issue (smh).  Who am I to judge ( I will leave that one alone).

Anywho.  All this talk of side effects got me thinking and of course I looked it up and came across some pretty interesting information (from Wikipedia), so this “may” or “may” not be accurate.  But Here goes:

Doxycycline:

“ the risk of photosensitivity skin reactions is of particular importance for those intending long-term use for malaria prophylaxis because it can cause permanent sensitive and thin skin; may impair the effectiveness of many types of hormonal contraception”

Permanent sensitive and thin skin? Trust me these folks skin does not need to get thinner.  So it looks like there will be some red folks on the ship for a few ports, but try telling them that as they hold court almost daily on the outer 7^th deck (the pool deck)  di que “tanning” themselves in the African sun for hours on end.  And no matter how many times we tell them that this African sun is different than the Miami, California, even Carribean sun they don’t listen.  I think I already made my feelings clear about the “possible” impairment of the effectiveness of hormonal contraception, why I have to explain the importance of this to folks still baffles me.

Malarone:  (the one I’m taking)

“Some people have difficulty sleeping (nightmares, incoherent dreams) while taking Malarone.”

That is pretty cut and dry.  Needless to say its going to be an interesting night to get some sleep and in the event that it does not come well then hey, at least I will be wide awake for the 5:45 am sunrise over Ghana.

Lariam: Here is where it gets interesting...

“known to cause severe depression, anxiety, paranoia, aggression, nightmares, insomnia, seizures, birth defects, peripheral motor-sensory neuropathy, vestibular (balance) damage and central nervous system problems. For a complete list of adverse physical and psychological effects — including suicidal ideation — see the most recent product information.”

Ok does anybody else have an issue with the fact that this medication “may” cause suicidal ideation in some folks that are already anxious?   If that didn’t make me nervous well than reading this certainly did.

“In the 1990s, there were reports in the media that the drug may have played a role in the Somalia Affair, which involved the torture and murder of a Somali citizen whilst in the custody of Canadian peacekeeping troops. There has been similar controversy, since three murder-suicides involving Special Forces soldiers at Fort Bragg, N.C., in the summer of 2002. To date, more than 19 cases of vestibular damage following the use of mefloquine have been diagnosed by military physicians. The same damage has been diagnosed among business travelers and tourists.”

Ok so regardless of the medication, tonight I am sleeping with one eye open and a hand on my machete... damn!  I didn’t bring my machete with me.

My consolation is that tomorrow I will be in Ghana and most of the ship board community will be getting off the ship and venturing out on field trips.    I realized that I was signing up for an adventure I just wasn’t aware that I had to beware of side effects.