Cape Coast and the Big M

Last weekend we left on a trip to the Cape Coast. Cape Coast is most infamously known for being at the heart of the trans-Atlantic slave trade.
After a good night's rest at the Hans Cottage Botel (don't ask why it is a botel as opposed to a hotel or a motel - possibly some other lower level category of lodging that I am completely ignorant of) we left for Cape Coast Castle the next morning.
A word about the botel - A man made lagoon was dug out around Hans Cottage Botel when it was first built. Instead of the lagoon being a device of intrigue for tourists it turned into a haven for mosquitos. When they tried to bring in animals to rid the botel of mosquitos it only attracted more and more different animal species feeding into this microcosmic food cycle they were creating. In the end, they were left with a lagoon full of crocodiles which fulfilled their original goal of attracting tourists. Go figure.
The owner's son became the crocodile trainer. He was named after his uncle who's name was so damn long that in the end they decided to save themselves the hassle and simply call him "Uncle." He has many names, as many of the Ghanians do. In the Ga tradition, as well as others, it is typical to name your offspring after the day of the week they were born. They are also given a Christian name, a name to signify the order in which they were born (first, second, third, etc.), and sometimes a name to say what region they are from. I know there can be more names given but for what reasons I am right now oblivious.
But, here I am getting further and further away from what I started this blog about. I'll come back to talk about Uncle later.
We left for Cape Coast Castle in the morning and were all blown away by the size of this fortress. It was originally built as a lesser fort in the 15th century by the Portugese who wanted to break the monoply the Arabs had over the gold trade in West Africa.
Overtime, it came into the hands of many, the first being the Dutch, then the Swedes, then the Danes and finally, the British who enlarged it to its now formidable size.
In the 16th century, sugar plantations and the mining industry in the Americas were in need of large numbers for manual labour and since many of the Native Americans were dying due to oppression by the European invaders, disease and poverty, the slave trade intensified on the Guinea coast.
Typically, the journey could take from 18 months up to 3 years and started in Britain where the Brits would come over to Cape Coast with guns and goods to trade for slaves and gold. Once they acquired their goods they made their way over to Barbados, Jamacia and the Americas where they sold the slaves off, roughly a third in each location, in exchange for other goods.
The slaves were kept in dungeons beneath the castle. There were 3 rooms, each of which hosted about 150 to 200 slaves, shackled and bound in chains. Each room had two thin rectangular windows which were the only source of light, fresh air and the only means of attaining rain water to wash out the excrement, vomit and blood that layered the stone floor. They had a chalk line on the wall of one of the rooms we visited that marked the volume of the excrement in the room at the time of the slave trade - the chalk line was slightly above two feet off the floor beneath.
The slaves were sorted and the sick were left to die in a room with no windows.
The slaves that rebelled against their captors were locked in a tiny room, often 60 at a time, left to die with no air, light, food or water.
The women that refused rape were left to a similar fate and locked up in a small room for a week and fed sparingly. If those that accepted rape became pregnant they were sent to live in town until they delivered. Their fate then rest in the hands of the perpetrator who was to decide if he loved her or not. If he loved her, she would stay on and live in the town, if not, she would go back to the dungeons to eventually be sold.
They were bid on by Europeans on what was called an "auction block." They were bid on according to how healthy and strong they appeared to be.
After a 6 week period in the dungeons they were sent through the "Door of No Return," titled the latter because never again were they to return to their home land. The door was 2-3 feet off the ground and they were made to crawl on their hands and knees through the door while shackled in chains.
Many, if not most of the slaves died on the ships from terrible conditions. They were packed in as tight as possible and disease ran rampant throughout. If they survived, they were forced into a lifetime of slavery at their final destination.
I apologize for going on about such a dark topic but I believe that it is important to learn from our history so we are not doomed to repeat it and since I was so ignorant to this time period and its atrocities, it is good for me to consolidate it in my mind by writing it all out. When we stood in the punishment room (the cell in which the rebellious slaves were kept) we were witness to nail marks, blood and rust entreched in the stone as a reminder to those in the future of the atrocities that were perpetrated against these people and how we need to learn about and act now against such awful crimes of a similar nature.
I don't believe there is any simple seguay into the second half of this blog so I will crudley carry on without any adjoining words...save for the latter.
I realize I haven't imparted much information on where I am and what I am doing. Currently, I am in the township of Nungua, 15km outside of Accra. Nungua was originally a small fishing village and while fishing remains their main source of industry it has grown.
I am studying drums, dance, song, and guitar here for a month with members of a group known as the Kusun Ensemble. I will be off to Ejura in 3 days where I will teach kids in a variety of school subjects. Hopefully that clears things up for those of you that asked.
Right now, 6 of the people here staying at the centre I am lodging in have malaria. They all came down with it in the span of about 3 days. This is where the reference to the "Big M" comes in but after typing for so long about Cape Coast Castle, I have run out of time to talk about any more of the trials of malaria.
In the next blog, I'll talk a bit more about Uncle and the conversations we had about traditional music and the ever encroaching batch of North American music that is destroying it.
Thanks for reading and thank you all again for your comments and love.

David