(click on any photo to enlarge)
The Iron Cross. This symbol is so au currant, so en vogue with plastic hells angel wannabies and the OC X Gamed empty vee generation. We come to find that this eloquent graphic icon has origins dating thousands of years through West African history. The war flag of custom hog farmers has it’s roots not in German dog fight aces but in Adinkra blankets of the 15th century. The cross was used prominently as a repeating patern in textiles serving as a symbol thought to remove evil (That Which Removes Bad Luck). American Badd Ass indeed. Mmusu Yidie, mo-fo.
Small Bikes. After another day of the Boston shipment not clearing the port we engage a solid forward tactic; we prepare to leave for the village at first light the next day. If and when the container clears Tema Port Authority, we’ll bomb back into town for the day in a tro-tro with a fast n’ light kit on our backs. The decision to get to the meat of our story jazzes us, and we fill the day with stocking provisions, blocking out currency, double checking the medkit and cleaning the gear. We stow a few bags at the Atsu’s and pare down our kit by a bag or two but it’s still overboard at five pieces. Camera gear’s a bitch if you don’t forgo yer own duds for space.
While I run everything through the dummy check, TT and Papayo go over to George and Sammy’s to retrieve our bikes. Yesterday, for the equivalent of around 75$ US, we had secured two MTB’s from the ‘workshops’ pile. I scored a low end Peugeot w/ plastic Shimano-esque cranks and gears. Rigid fork, riser bars with ratty old Grab-On grips and a seat with a hole in it. TT scored a true scrapper – a K-Mart ladies special with one piece steel cranks, stamp cut dropouts, a big pie plate and chain guard, all customized in rattle can drippy gloss black. New Schwalbe tires though, better than my red bomber’s Conti-nock-offs with partly worn down treads and cracked sidewalls. No worries in Africa. Both of ‘em weigh around 30 lbs. Despite the clunkerness factor, the boys at the shop had those bikes tuned to race-day precision in around 30 minutes flat. Anyway, TT and the kid went to pick them up ‘cause I was prepping other gear.
The most common bike in Ghana is a one geared 1931 pig iron roadster called a Phoenix. From there up, you get the full range of bike types though in Accra the English Townie style and the 10-speed Varsity knock style make up most of the wheels on the road. Ahhh the roads. Our street in Fadema, in MTB terms is what is known as a ‘rock garden’. Hans Rey would dig the lines in this ‘hood. Those riding the Phoenix most likely do not dig it. Like all things daunting and difficult in these parts, folks just glide stoically along. The sealed streets provide a different type of sketchy line. To the right, an open sewer of an average 2 feet of depth and width with a curb hewn from rough-edged blocks. To the left, in very close proximity is your old friend daily city traffic. In Accra there are few traffic signals, one lane each way, buses, tro-tro’ s, taxi’s and big trucks everywhere and with little regard for pedaling maniacs. Within a frighteningly short distance he surface can go from asphalt to dirt to concrete to gravel with half a dozen off camber hairpin turns. It is hell on wheels. Oh, and the air is choking with dust, two-stroke oil burn, carbon monoxide and smoke all the time. Bravo. A New York courier would think twice on some routes here. I’d like to tell you that we balled up and rode it, but no. Aside from a brief inaugural sprint with the camera mounted to the bars chasing Sammy up and down La Paz Road, there was no daring do in the streets of Fadema. With the value of the trip placed squarely on the film we opted to save our riding for the village. There was no sense in risking everything for the thrill of some serious urban assault runs. Ok, also, I’m a wuss; TT came to ride. The village waits. In classic Ghanaian hospitality and good will, D. Atsu agrees to drive us in on a Saturday morning with his taxi. We insist on paying the petrol, no small block of bills and far more than a tro-tro, but far safer. Mo' safe mo' betta. Our dice cast now, we hunker down for the night, excited for our mission to finally shift into a higher gear. Viva.
remove the photo of me before i clobber you...and you know i will resort to violence to get my way.
t
Posted by: tricia | 06/21/2005 at 04:43
awwwwwwnuts im here to tell ya the surfer & biker crowd that got on toppa the big black cross came to it by way of the german military iron cross in spiteah the fact that it was also the maltese cross & also the knights of templar logo & a dezign ona adrinka blanket ... mostly it dosent matter to the guy w/the westCoastChopper decal in the back window of his superBee hemi pick up trukk whether it was a goodLukk symbol ona afrikan blanket or a unit insignia on the shield of a crusader...its not cool cuz it meens good luck in african, its cool cuz james coburn wore one in a movie by sam peckinpah, its cool because the berdoo angels had patches like that. [w/the #13], on their levis vests, its cool cuz bukowski had his uncle's german military medal iron cross hanging from the rear view mirror of his volkswagon for yrs untill he hung it on the doorknob of a woman who'd just left him
...afterall; lotsa symbols that are similar come along at differnt times periods in widely scattered kutchahs ...take the swatstika fer example
piece & lunch;
-uncle stosh
Posted by: stosh | 06/21/2005 at 10:48
awwwwwwnuts im here to tell ya the surfer & biker crowd that got on toppa the big black cross came to it by way of the german military iron cross in spiteah the fact that it was also the maltese cross & also the knights of templar logo & a dezign ona adrinka blanket ... mostly it dosent matter to the guy w/the westCoastChopper decal in the back window of his superBee hemi pick up trukk whether it was a goodLukk symbol ona afrikan blanket or a unit insignia on the shield of a crusader...its not cool cuz it meens good luck in african, its cool cuz james coburn wore one in a movie by sam peckinpah, its cool because the berdoo angels had patches like that. [w/the #13], on their levis vests, its cool cuz bukowski had his uncle's german military medal iron cross hanging from the rear view mirror of his volkswagon for yrs untill he hung it on the doorknob of a woman who'd just left him
...afterall; lotsa symbols that are similar come along at differnt times periods in widely scattered kutchahs ...take the swatstika fer example
piece & lunch;
-uncle stosh
Posted by: stosh | 06/21/2005 at 10:48