After successful week including trafficking interviews, teaching,
and community outreach, we found out that there would be another long weekend.
Even with the short notice, (it seems that national holidays are only announced
the day before they occur) we still quickly made some plans for another weekend
excursion. This time, we decided to head west past Cape Coast to see Busua and
Nzulezo.
After a wonderful night on the beach in Cape Coast, we woke
up early to head further west to Busua. When arriving at the tro-tro station, I
was approached by an Immigration Officer asking to see my passport. This was
not a problem and I allowed him to inspect both my passport and visa. The
problems began when he asked to see the passports of the other two volunteers.
Of the four of us, only two of us had our actual passports and the other two
only had a photocopy. Even though this should be perfectly fine according to
the Ghanaian laws, the officer was “doubtful” of the two other volunteers.
After explaining our situation, (we are volunteers, we all have the same visa,
a photocopy is fine, ect) he invited me to sit in the front seat of the tro-tro
next to him since we were both traveling to Takoradi.
What followed was the longest tro-tro ride of my life.
During the hour or more that it took for the tro-tro-tro to fill up (a tro-tro
does not leave the station until all the seats are filled, which can make for a
long wait if you are at a vacant station) my new friend Joseph, the immigration
officer, talked with me about everything imaginable. I learned about his family,
(he was traveling to visit his mother and daughter) his job, his life,
everything, it seemed that we were “friends”. I believed that we had the
passport situation under control, but in between the small talk, he would keep
coming back to this “feeling of doubt” about the validity of my friends’
documentation. I would try to assure him that in the future we would all carry
our passports and it was so good that he helped inform me about the “rules” in
Ghana, still Joseph wanted to detain my friends until we could produce the
actual passports.
Somehow, I had become the “leader” of the group (according to
Joseph). I felt bad leaving my friends in the dark as I was the only one
sitting up front, somehow attempting to determine the fate of the entire group
all by myself. He decided that he needed to detain the two other volunteers
until Tuesday when the offices officially opened and we could bring their
actual passports for him to see. Of course, when I told him that four days in
the detention center was not acceptable, he would tell me know to worry and
that the more I worried the more he was doubtful of the validity of their passports.
Several times during his moments of doubt, he asked me to “appease” him in some
way to make him feel better. Each time I would call him out and ask him if he
was requesting a bribe, which he would deny (never a bribe, only a “gift”).
Finally, I decided to
call Eric, the director of our program, to let him talk to Joseph in order to
make him feel better. This is where I made my first mistake of the day. He
happened to be examining my passport (for the 20th time) when I
handed him the phone. Sadly, when Eric told him that it was illegal to detain
my friends and that a photocopy was an acceptable means of identification in
Ghana, Joseph started his power trip. He decided to take my passport and became
determined to detain my friends. He became obstinate and would not tell Eric
his full name, which Eric requested in attempts to call his supervisors. Much
like a middle school student, he handed me back the telephone and refused to
talk any more.
To say the least, the next hour and a half ride was painful.
I was able to get him talking again, but struggled to change his mind. Eric
told me that I needed to get my passport back and that we should not allow him
to arrest/detain us. When I demanded my passport (which was completely valid),
he said that I could choose to regain my passport in exchange for handcuffing
my friends. At one point, I asked the driver to stop so that I could talk with
a policeman at one of the numerous traffic stops. The policeman seemed to agree
that the situation was strange, but he was not “involved with immigration
issues” so he could not help us. After an hour of talking with Joseph, I even
resorted to “buying” back my passport for 20 cedi which he no longer wanted to
accept.
Once the tro-tro finally arrived in Takoradi, it became even
stranger. He still had my passport and told me that he would hold on to it
until Tuesday when my friends would be released. We left the tro-tro just outside
of town and he proceeded to escort us to the detention center. We entered a
taxi where Joseph was going to sit on my lap, because there were only four
seats. Joseph then proceeded to tell us he needed money for the cab fare. We
actually laughed out loud at this idea as there was no way we were going to pay
the taxi to take us to jail. Joseph was quite disappointed and told us that we
would have to walk .
At this point, we destined to go to the detention center,
hoping that there would be someone actually sane to listen to our story (the
idea of grabbing my passport and running was also not out of the question).
Conor, one of the other volunteers, decided to call the US embassy in Accra to
request some assistance. Of course, as stubborn as Joseph was, he did not
believe that he was speaking to the US embassy on the telephone and would not
give his name and badge number (he showed me his name at badge number at the beginning
of the tro-tro ride, but at that point I had no idea of the situation that was
about to ensue) (Joseph Awantu or something I believe). During our walk, Joseph
received several calls from his sergeant, from the embassy, and from the
immigration offices. Eric had contacted the immigration department and Joseph
was becoming more flustered as he talked to numerous individuals on the phone. At
this point, we were stopped waiting in the middle of a random dirt road on the
way to the detention center and Joseph did not know what to do. We decided to give
Joseph options 1) we go and talk with his sergeant in person or 2) he return my
passport. As a last ditch effort, he again asked to be appeased, obviously we
were not having it and told him that he was going to give me my passport back
and that we were going to leave.
You could tell that Joseph was struggling about what to do. I
told him I wanted my passport and I would give him my phone number if he needed
to reach me. Finally Joseph accepted the exchange. I took my passport and we
quickly turned around, walking back towards the tro-tro station. Shockingly,
Joseph walked back with me (Chiara and Conor were smart and decided to walk double
time, but sadly Claudia and I were stuck at a slower pace). During the walk,
Joseph decided to try again to make small talk (asking about how he could marry
an American girl, at this point my patients was lacking). He also asked if I
was still interested in giving him the 20 cedi that I had offered earlier in
the trip. With my passport back in my possession, I told him that there was no
way I would ever give him 20 cedi. He told Claudia who was walking with me that
she needed to “talk to her husband” because I had become “hard” and
unreasonable and had been so much “softer” back in the tro-tro.
We quickly found a tro-tro that was taking us anywhere so
that we could leave Joseph behind and decided to continue or Saturday. Exhausted,
I let Conor and Chiara do the talking to find out where we were going next as
my patience and small talk was finished for the afternoon. I can’t think of a
stranger tro-tro ride, but luckily everything turned out fine, only wasting our
time and my patience. My first “attempted” arrest and encounter with an
incompetent/corrupt officer (I think he was more of an idiot than evil) was now
complete, simply adding to my international travel experiences. I have to say
that the day only improved from there and we made it to Busua enjoying a
relaxing day on the beach.
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