” See you later, alligator. After a while, crocodile.”
This morning is close the windows, put on warm slippers and a sweatshirt cold. The house was 69° when I came downstairs. As if it were winter, I clutched that warm coffee cup between my hands hoping to stave off the cold. I woke up at 7:30 today so it seems my body is finally recognizing it’s home.
Today is Paga day. Paga is the last town in Ghana before Burkina Faso. In my day it was the last town before crossing into Upper Volta. Paga is famous for its sacred crocodile ponds. I visited there forty-two years ago, and it hasn’t changed a bit except for the price. It was 3 cedis for Ghanaians and 6 for non-Ghanaians. I protested that it was wrong to charge white people more, but the man claimed he also charged Africans not from Ghana the same 6 cedis. I asked him how he could tell Ghanaians from non-Ghanaians and he just shrugged. The biggest pond, the Chief Crocodile Pond, is supposed to have around thirty of these sacred crocodiles. No one is allowed to eat the meat or harm the crocs in any way. The pond is lovely with lilies all around the edges and in the middle. A donkey was to one side munching grass. It looked almost idyllic. I tried to see any crocodiles lurking on the surface the way they do in movies but saw none. These beasts are lured from the water by a whistle and the promise of a live chicken which we had to buy. Thomas and I went as close to the edge as we dared, and the man whistled. Out of the pond came one of the biggest crocodiles I’ve ever seen. He ran out of the water on all four legs, and we stepped back, a bit nervous I’ll admit. The croc stopped close to the chicken man and just stayed there immobile for a while. He didn’t look real. The man threw the chicken and the croc grabbed it and ate it in about a minute. A second croc, far smaller than the first, came out of the water to the right of us and started making his way toward us. A small boy scared it away with a branch but it stayed by the edge of the pond and I could see its head above the water. The chicken man then went and held the croc’s tail and asked if anyone else wanted to do the same. When no one was the first to brave the tail, I said yes and up I went and grabbed the end of the tail. After that the men did the same. Thomas wanted his picture taken for posterity. I’ll send it by e-mail to him when I upload my pictures out of the camera. As we were getting into the car, an old man approached us and showed us pictures of the museum like collection of huts and artifacts across the street from the pond. When I asked how much, he said whatever you want so Thomas and I drove across the street.
It was wonderful. The old man was our guide from hut to hut. We were followed by two of his grandchildren. The huts were old and many of their walls had large painted figures. The biggest hut had clay figures that had been dug from the area and were dated to be at least 1000 years old. The old man showed us how the young boys hid on the roof from slavers, other African tribal men who sold their captives to the whites. In the birthing hut the man played a gourd and the music which announced the birth of a son or daughter. He said the hut was still used by some of the local villagers. He had a few local goods for sale, and I bought a beautiful hand-woven cloth and a large calabash which had figures etched on it. The man and I bargained a bit, and I think I got a good price for both. When we were leaving, I left 5 cedis in thanks.
Paga has a slave camp, but I noticed the cost and decided that this non-Ghanaian wasn’t going to pay again. Thomas and I headed back to Bolga.
The road between Paga and Bolga was one of my favorite rides. Lines of large trees periodically appeared on each side of the road and shadowed the road as if you were on a small country by-way. I remember riding to Navrongo, the town between Paga and Bolga, on my motorcycle. I remember the shadows falling across the road from the tree branches covered in leaves. That road has not changed and the ride back to Bolga was a joy.
Explore posts in the same categories: MusingsTags: Africa, Crocodile, Ghana, Navrongo, Paga, Peace Corps Ghana, traditional huts, traditional music
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keepthecoffeecoming.blog 
September 16, 2011 at 10:23 am
Yet another delightful blog Kat. There is a crocodile in Cairns (N.E. Qld) on display measuring 5.84 metres. which is in the Guiness Book of Records as the largest croc in captivity.
Recently in the Philipines the captured one that’s supposed to be bigger.
The are marvellous survivors. Almost unchanged since prior to the Ice Age. Extremely cunning. People still get taken by them here every year.
September 16, 2011 at 8:02 pm
Thanks, Pete,
The crocs must have inspired me, especially the huge one which kept its mouth open long after having eaten the chicken. I wonder if he was expecting pie?
They look totally prehistoric to me without question.
September 16, 2011 at 11:06 am
lowell thomas couldn’t have done a travelogue better!
this has been just wonderful. thank you for taking us along.
September 16, 2011 at 8:03 pm
Thanks, Greg
It has been fun dor me to remember every bit of my trip. I think I might have a day or two at best left.
Yup, I remember Lowell Thomas!
September 16, 2011 at 2:26 pm
I´ve only seen one crocodile (called Smily)in my life and she lived in an aquarium in Gothenburg. She wasn´t big but she was the oldest one in captivity until she died. I don´t know how they understood that she was dead, I never saw here even blink with her eyes ever 🙂 🙂 🙂
How much is a cedi?
I would have loved to see those huts and hear that man tell all about them and the history!
We had the first frost night here last night and it feels like we´ll have another tonight. I´ll think of Ghana to keep warm inside 🙂
Have a great day!
Christer.
September 16, 2011 at 8:04 pm
Christer,
When I finally post my pictures, you’d find it diffivlut to believe this one is real as well. It doesn’t move, doesn’t even blonk.
Ghana will keep you warm and toast and sweaty!
September 16, 2011 at 7:36 pm
I think the Crocodile and Alligator are cousins and would not want to meet up with either one at dinner time. Is the Donkey the Croc’s desert? I am amazed that these animals have survived millions of years of evolution and have survived almost in the same form as their ancestors in the age of dinosaurs.
It’s hard to imagine that the slave trade continued in Africa until right after World War II. The colonial powers of Europe stole everything from the Africans for hundreds of years and left them completely unprepared for independence. South Africa, since the election of Nelson Mandela, is a miracle that hopefully can be repeated all over Africa. Mandela proved that people of all races, religions and cultures can live together in a democratic free country.
What is the dominant religion in Ghana?
September 16, 2011 at 8:12 pm
Bob,
I think the donkey was far enough away and it is the whistle which alerts the crocodile to lunch and dinner. The donkey was peacefully munching the long grass. Crocs have that skin or hide which looks just like some dinosaur wore it as well.
The Africans were the slavers to other Africans. Warring tribes sold their captives to the whites.
Ghana was the first to become independent-it was 1957. The British left them with a huge treasury but also a British system which just doesn’t fit the Ghanaian psyche. Ghanaians have their own way of doing things in their own time, We knew there was Ghanaian time and European time. One was prompt; the other whenever. Ghanaians are lovers of red tape.
Their country endures and even grows. Now that they have struck oil off the coast, I expect they will never become another Nigerian. The Ghanaians are determined to do the best for their country.
I think there are far more Christians but there are also Moslems and small mosques are in most towns. In the north when I was there, the Moslems were more there than anywhere else in Ghana, but that seems to have changed a bit. I always loved to listen to the call to prayer from the small mosque on the street behind my house in training. I thought the sound was beautiful.
September 16, 2011 at 9:11 pm
Thanks for the explanation. The British left most of the third world a system that only works well in Westminster and roads where people drive on the wrong side of the road from the wrong side of the car.
I don’t know if other Africans kept slaves or that the white people were willing to pay the Africans for other Africans.
If there is oil I will bet there are Chinese oil companies drilling away to supply China’s growing demand for energy.
September 16, 2011 at 7:58 pm
Quite a story! I appreciate all you have writen about your trip. Truly fine. Thank you.
September 16, 2011 at 8:13 pm
Thank you, Mario
It has been fun remember and I figure I’ll always have the chronicle of my trip here on Coffee.
September 17, 2011 at 4:33 pm
You were the first to hold the crocs tail, and then the men did it. Sounds like a good song. What is a a slave camp? It’s a wonderful travel log.
Lori
September 17, 2011 at 5:03 pm
Lori,
I was!
It was where men were kept until they could be sold to the white slavers.
September 18, 2011 at 2:00 pm
Once again I come back for the familiarity and friendship and learn something new every time as well. Thank you Kat and alll the coffee fans for sharing . Simply Delightful today!
September 18, 2011 at 5:42 pm
splendid,
It was a joy to write!