I leave at around 8 am, which was either just before or after Krishma was picked up by Osu, the driver from the garment factory. The sun will have been up for a couple of hours and is already very hot, but more bearable than it will be later in the morning. Nevertheless it is wise not to adopt to fast a pace or I end up coated in sweat by the time I arrive. The walk takes about 15 minutes, depending on distractions. The bar or ‘spot’ immediately next to the gate on to the road is quiet. The noise from the bar varies from night to night but it is almost always silent soon after 9 pm.
There are a number of school children around in their smart shirts, shorts and shoes. I rarely make it to work without ‘obruni’ (white man) being called at me at least once. I usually respond by asking how they are in Twi (stretching my knowledge of the language close to its limit). They always respond and usually with a giggle.
I pass the Kes Hotel, and the occasional small shops on the way to the main road. I exchange waves and smiles with some of the shopkeepers. There was a Labradorish dog on the corner with a number of tiny puppies but the last one is now quite grown up now. There are chickens and chicks everywhere, usually ferreting about in the drains and scrub. Somebody has dyed their chicks shocking pink but this is wearing off now. Fortunately all the roads are tarmaced. Dan and Halim, in the other VSO house in Koforidua must negotiate a muddy track before they reach the main road.
I turn right on to the main road at the imposing Presbyterian Church. All the major Christian denominations are represented in Koforidua. The Catholics have an elegant twin towered building positioned above the town on the lower slopes of the town’s twin mountains. With the continuous changing weather the mountains always look different. Although, in season, the rain tends to come in the morning , there is no guarantee of this. Some mornings the peaks are hidden in cloud, others they are brightly sunlit. Often the tree lined ridges are silhouetted against a threatening dark blue cloud. At the moment the peaks are hazy because of the Harmattan but this soon fades.
There are more small businesses along the roadside – a couple of electrical repair men usually working on the innards of a TV set or video recorder, barber shops and tailors and seamstresses. There is a small rubbish dump with a skip in it. Most mornings there are a few vultures picking over the wast. Whenever you look up to the skies over Koforidua, you will probably see a few vultures wheeling around.
I reach Jackson Park (pictured), the vast tree lined square on the edge of the central business district. Most mornings it is just being used as a short cut or by kids playing at the table tennis table or on the basket ball court. There used to be a pool table but this disintegrated one night during a particularly heavy storm. On Thursday the bead market is set up in the north east corner. This is town’s chief tourist attraction and may mean the arrival of a few additional obrunis. On Saturdays the square hosts an array of funeral parties, the guests dressed either in black or white. On the northern side of the square is the remnant of a large tree. At night it used to provide shelter for hundreds of storks. Before Christmas about two-thirds of the tree was removed by the Assembly. A few puzzled storks remain, some pick their way through the debris of the tree, like the victims of an earthquake returning to look for their belongings.
I walk along the side of the Municipal Assembly compound. There are a couple of newspaper stands. The front pages are pinned up for passers by to read. I occasionally buy the Daily Graphic and wait to see how long it sits on my desk before somebody picks it up.
There are a couple of people sitting under large parasols with large manual typewriters waiting to provide typing services for anybody requiring a letter. Many of these will find their way onto the desks of my colleagues. Finally I turn in through the gates of the New Juaben Municipal Assembly, cross the compound, through the car park and enter the building.
There are a number of school children around in their smart shirts, shorts and shoes. I rarely make it to work without ‘obruni’ (white man) being called at me at least once. I usually respond by asking how they are in Twi (stretching my knowledge of the language close to its limit). They always respond and usually with a giggle.
I pass the Kes Hotel, and the occasional small shops on the way to the main road. I exchange waves and smiles with some of the shopkeepers. There was a Labradorish dog on the corner with a number of tiny puppies but the last one is now quite grown up now. There are chickens and chicks everywhere, usually ferreting about in the drains and scrub. Somebody has dyed their chicks shocking pink but this is wearing off now. Fortunately all the roads are tarmaced. Dan and Halim, in the other VSO house in Koforidua must negotiate a muddy track before they reach the main road.
I turn right on to the main road at the imposing Presbyterian Church. All the major Christian denominations are represented in Koforidua. The Catholics have an elegant twin towered building positioned above the town on the lower slopes of the town’s twin mountains. With the continuous changing weather the mountains always look different. Although, in season, the rain tends to come in the morning , there is no guarantee of this. Some mornings the peaks are hidden in cloud, others they are brightly sunlit. Often the tree lined ridges are silhouetted against a threatening dark blue cloud. At the moment the peaks are hazy because of the Harmattan but this soon fades.
There are more small businesses along the roadside – a couple of electrical repair men usually working on the innards of a TV set or video recorder, barber shops and tailors and seamstresses. There is a small rubbish dump with a skip in it. Most mornings there are a few vultures picking over the wast. Whenever you look up to the skies over Koforidua, you will probably see a few vultures wheeling around.
I reach Jackson Park (pictured), the vast tree lined square on the edge of the central business district. Most mornings it is just being used as a short cut or by kids playing at the table tennis table or on the basket ball court. There used to be a pool table but this disintegrated one night during a particularly heavy storm. On Thursday the bead market is set up in the north east corner. This is town’s chief tourist attraction and may mean the arrival of a few additional obrunis. On Saturdays the square hosts an array of funeral parties, the guests dressed either in black or white. On the northern side of the square is the remnant of a large tree. At night it used to provide shelter for hundreds of storks. Before Christmas about two-thirds of the tree was removed by the Assembly. A few puzzled storks remain, some pick their way through the debris of the tree, like the victims of an earthquake returning to look for their belongings.
I walk along the side of the Municipal Assembly compound. There are a couple of newspaper stands. The front pages are pinned up for passers by to read. I occasionally buy the Daily Graphic and wait to see how long it sits on my desk before somebody picks it up.
There are a couple of people sitting under large parasols with large manual typewriters waiting to provide typing services for anybody requiring a letter. Many of these will find their way onto the desks of my colleagues. Finally I turn in through the gates of the New Juaben Municipal Assembly, cross the compound, through the car park and enter the building.
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