It's so early in the morning! Part I

 WARNING:  This is a long post, but if you keep reading, I have left the most interesting (in my opinion) thing at the Gardens for last.  It also left me with the most unanswered questions.

Really?  Up and ready to go at 7:00 a.m.?  Everyone else in the room seems to think that this is a reasonable hour of the day.  Although I’ve become somewhat of a night owl since my so-called “retirement”, I agree with them.  “Yes, that will be a fine time to meet”.  I manage to say this with a smile.

We will be going to go the Arubi Botanical Gardens in the Akuapern Mountains.  The Gardens opened in March 1890, but was not open to the public until 1928.  

Previous to the public opening it is said to be a sanatorium sight for Gold Coast British Government Officials.  The officials were recuperating from things such as fatigue or malaria.

The Garden is 460 metres above sea level.  Huh, you say meters?  Alright, me too.  Ghana is on the metric system; somewhat of an annoyance, but that statement sounds so arrogantly American, doesn’t it?  460 meters is a mere 1,500 feet.  And no, metres is not a typo, it is the British spelling as is Behaviour.  And…we each spell it correctly. 

The altitude allows people a cool climate and it is this climate that, so long ago, attracted European merchants and missionaries.

In addition to the Gardens, we will be on a reconnaissance mission to scout a good path for the Ghana Hiking and Biking Club that Ken organized.  That is how it was explained to me.  The words “reconnaissance, mission and scout”  sounded so secretive that I was even more motivated to accept this mission. 

I have never used the alarm on my IPhone as there has been no occasion. Actually, I had to search my apps to see if I had one.  I did. I set it and secretly crossed my fingers that it understood my desire to be up at that ridiculous hour of the morning.  To my amazement, I promptly heard the cute little ding-a-ling sound and sprinted out of bed so excited to be included in this day.  Alright, maybe there was a bit less enthusiasm, but the alarm did work, I did get up and I was ready on time.

Ken, Dwight and I got into the car and picked up Caron at her nearby home.  She is the Deputy High Commissioner for the UK.  I was happy to see there was a female companion.  I had purposely not had coffee in the morning and knew I could team with another female when needed.

We packed her things and the four of us rode in the Jeep up to the mountains.  I am pleased that we have access to the University Jeep as roads in Ghana are sometimes excellent but most times non-existent or full of potholes.

After an hour we climbed the hill leaving the heat of the day behind.  I have been surprised at how many times I have needed the light sweater I brought for the plane ride.  This was definitely one of those times. 

NATURE AT THE GARDENS

It is overcast and in the low 21’s…that’s Celsius…. when we arrive at the Gardens.

The Garden is impressive … and massive in size.  Some things are marked with signs while others are left to the imagination.  Clearly, one of the most important areas, marked with signage, is trees planted by dignitaries.  Caron relates a story of Princess Ann’s tree.  It had an unfortunate demise as it was planted too close to another and died.  It was later declared that the Princess planted the nearby Mango Tree. 

We stop to search for nutmeg seeds from a nearby Nutmeg Tree.  Once the pod is opened a beautiful seed is revealed in a red brilliance which somewhat resembles a ladybug.  I don't remember this brilliant color in Saint Lucia.

This makes me think of my 7-year old granddaughter who was so pleased to declare that the ladybug is in the Beetle family.

As I proceed through the foggy gardens, my hair becoming damp in the dew, we come across chickens … of which there are many in the garden. I wonder why people are so enthusiastic about chickens.  They are everywhere and very often I see people taking pictures of them.  Are all chickens the same?  I suppose I am also curious as I remember writing an entire blog post questioning whether chickens in Saint Lucia had breasts . . . a commodity never found in the local grocery.  Anyway, I like taking pictures of people taking pictures of chickens, but also secretively admit that I have taken my share of chicken pictures.

As I continue walking just at the edge of the Gardens I hear village drumming in the distance.  It is a quiet reminder of where I am.  It is Sunday and I wonder if this is part of some unfamiliar worship practice, or is this a gathering at a relatives home after the Catholic Service.  The distant drumming along with the ever-present birds singing morning melodies and the feeling of mystery captured by the looming fog create a peaceful environment for a quiet stroll.

Walking further I see a familiar site, The Strangler Tree, A Ficus, commonly referred to as a Rubber Tree.  I find these trees very interesting as they attach to a host tree, eventually killing the host and taking on it’s structure. 

 

I took my turn to walk into the host tree to look up and view the natural light from the windows created from the strangled host of yesteryear.

The signs are aging and at times difficult to read.  We come across a signage graveyard.  Caron declares, “I remember that sign.  It was over by the other entrance.”  I hope that’s an indication that they are replacing some of the signage with less readable descriptions.

 

This sign is easy to read, but unfortunately it appears there is no tree.

I admire a rare flower among the trees and green foliage.  Maybe this isn’t the flowering season.  Everything is very green with little color diversity.

IT IS BECOMING MORE INTERESTING

QUESTIONS … FEW ANSWERS

A few flowers and trees are nice, but I do get bored after a time.  I will not remember much about how to identify the average looking tree, plant or sprout.   I probably will never be able to tell a Magnolia from a Mahogany.  A few glimpses are to be admired. It is beautiful, but I wonder, is there more to see that will peak my interest?  OH YES THERE IS!

The Booker T. Washington School

I approach a dilapidated building.  We walk up to see the doors of the old sanitarium building with torn curtains and weathered walls. 

There are stairs leading to the second floor and very cautiously we walk up, gingerly taking one step at a time, not knowing if the building is sound.  I arrive at to the top of the creaky and poorly slanted stairs to discover a sign hanging in the classroom reading, “The Booker T Washington Institute”.  There are little chairs and little desks facing the sign There are no windows, just a fresh breeze cooling the little closed-sized classroom.   This is most certainly a Kodak Moment.

There are two other classrooms.  One appears to be for older students and one for adult seminars.  The signs on the wall indicate these classrooms are currently used, but I have no idea if it is for villagers, or for an occasional education information series about the Gardens.

This was unexpected, but as I travel through this little piece of Ghanaian history, I will find there are more unanswered questions.

 

I pass by several termite hills and witness the damage caused by them. I'm so "California" that I must ask what they are.  They are immense structures.  Why is it they don't knock them down?  Or, do they leave them as part of the evolution of the forrest?

There are more abandoned and dilapidated buildings, one with a fire extinguisher that makes me ponder the question, “Could this possibly be serviceable?”

We are off the path and the sandals I am wearing are wet and my feet are damp.  I am grateful that I know enough about these climate to have the poisonous and ever-present smell of Deet sprayed upon my ankles this morning.

As we move through the forested land, the sight of a decayed helicopter comes into view.

Really?  Why is this here?  Who does it belong to?  This is such an imposing and unexpected sight that I am curious why there is nothing to indicate to whom it belongs and why it was left here.  I vow that when I get back to internet territory, I will get to the bottom of this one. (which I did, according to WIKI, not a perfect source, but the only one that said anything I could find, it is a retired helicopter left here by the British.)

THE VERY BEST FOR THE LAST (in my opinion)

Ken, Dwight and Caron spot yet another tree, but uninterested and not impressed, I am taken with a sight in the opposite direction.  I can’t quite make it out, but something says this is special. Outlined in fog, it's shape and carefully gardened dirt around this old dead tree, I find the mystery at this site is worth pondering.

This old dead tree is sandwiched between living trees and sitting upon the lush green floor of the preserve.  Could this be some sort of termite damage?

But as I come closer this appears to be the reason I have come on this journey.  There is no explanation, just pure beauty and genius.  It appears to be a story carving, although I cannot be sure.  As I round the tree it becomes somewhat unfinished . . . just the outline of a vision inside the artist’s mind.  I am curious if the history of the land and tribes that discovered this mountainous oasis are depicted in a timeline of picture history.  (zoom in closer to see some of the amazing details in this old or maybe recent carving)

Isn't it magnificent!  I wish I can stay just awhile longer to ponder the beauty of this carving, but we have more plans for the day.  The leisurely walk through the Gardens has come to a close.

Next up, our secret mission, Part II.