Sunday in Jamestown

Jamestown Lighthouse

Among the many changes in Accra, the art scene seems to have evolved significantly over the last few years. Back in the day, "art" usually meant local Rastas playing drums by the beach. If you went to an "art show", it would be an underwhelming affair, featuring a few local artists and a whole bunch of curious expats who got the same e-mail you did. Then you'd leave after about half an hour.

That seems to have changed. Case in point: the Chale Wote Street Art Festival in Jamestown.

Jamestown is a strange place - it is very old (including a lighthouse, forts and other colonial buildings over a hundred years old), tightly-knit and has a strong local flavour, but it's also underdeveloped, decrepit and fairly challenging for tourists, with the sheer number of street kids and the community's love-hate relationship with foreigners taking photos. It is so strange that in the entirety of his previous stay, Mr. O did not once visit the town proper.

EVERYBODY AZONTO!

Taking a drive on a Sunday with the neighbours, they got lost, wandered down some dodgy sidestreets and were about to return when they made contact with an old friend of Mr. O's who has been living in Ghana for several years. They then found the street festival. And it did not disappoint: vendors were selling interesting wares, from the usual beads and carvings to fine pottery and high-concept art t-shirts; local foods were available like bissap (sorrel in the Caribbean) and honey from the Volta Region; there were galleries, stencil art and chalk displays; and what seemed to be an all-day azonto dance party.

The mob descends upon sleeping Little Miss.

The crowd was a mix of young, hip Ghanaians and various expats (more the former than the latter). Little Miss fell asleep in the car on the way there, so she was put in a stroller, which immediately attracted the attention of a mob of local children, who crowded around, gawked and poked at the little princess being wheeled around in her own vehicle by adults. Thankfully, she slept the entire time, or else she would have been terrified. The kids were eventually shooed away by their elders, who have fewer qualms about telling them to stop being pesky gadflies.

The goal was to stay for an hour, tops. Yet they ended up staying for most of the afternoon hanging out, dancing, exploring the area and catching up with their old friend. It was a great way to get to know the city a bit more and experience local culture in a relaxed way, without it feeling sanitized or staged for the benefit of tourists. It feels like Accra (or at least its art community) is becoming more confident and assertive in its identity, which is exciting.