When Westerners travel to far-flung places like India and Africa, they often see poverty and suffering. This is a story with a different angle. This is Mary Contrary’s perspective on life in Ghana and African culture. It is one of smiles, colours, spirituality, and death. In other words, that which we call life. And it is all available here for those who are open to it.

“What do you like about this country? What do you see that I don’t see?” It was a question posed in the feel-good film The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel that has always stuck with me. It was asked by one of the characters in the film who was visiting India from the UK. She was struggling to see India beyond that negative light of suffering. It is also a question often asked by Westerners who travel to countries like India. “The light, the colours, the smiles. The way the people see life as a gift, a privilege — and not a right. All life is here,” was the answer of one of her fellow travellers. Someone who, unlike her, who did manage to see beyond that perspective.

I once had a similar experience with African culture. But let me start at the beginning.

A long time ago, in the late 90s, I had the chance to spend some time in Ghana as part of a small film crew. When we left London back then, the weather — we had boarded the plane in freezing, snow-white London to leave it in hot, sizzling Africa — was a contrast. But it wasn’t the only. There were many more.

And when you’re in a different place than where you’re from, it’s easy to compare that contrast to something you’re from. But I was lucky enough to spend time with people who showed me a whole different contrast to think about. A different way of looking at things that I had never encountered before.

Here, in this spiritual African culture, people gathered in the evenings around the one television set in the street and they were happy. Here, along the coast of the country, there was no running water or electricity. And here people were happy without material things, in a way that most of us Westerners can’t imagine. Of course, like most of us, I had some idea of ​​this way of looking at things. But it was something else, to be able to experience it for myself.

The point is that something happened during my time there. I stopped seeing these aspects of life that we Westerners call negative, as such. At risk of sounding all “profound and meaningful”, this viewpoint still gives me clarity in my life today. And so I thought I would share it with you.

Street TV and African culture

First, there was the “street TV.” Let me set the scene to explain. The hostel we stayed at offered a spacious, airy roof terrace. It was a place where we could relax and cool off from the day with all our fellow travellers. Incidentally they were a colourful bunch from travelling businessmen and young backpackers to ladies “with a certain profession.” So every evening after a hot and dusty day of filming among scenes in this African culture, and others after a hot day in the city, we could all enjoy this cool rooftop terrace.

The thing is, sitting on the side of the roof terrace, with my cold beer, I started to notice a few things on the street down below. Like how the guy from the hostel would put a TV outside on the street every night. And how people would come with their chairs and sit around it. Now, from a Western perspective, we can say, how sad, all those people with one TV. Or we can say, how strange. Well, let me tell you, there was nothing sad or strange about the image I saw below me. This was just a happy bunch of people, shouting things at an African soap or the news. They were simply having a good old time together.

The only fridge in the village

There was also the extraordinary matter of the refrigerator. After filming for the day (16 mil, if you must know), we had to keep our film stock safe. That meant below a certain temperature. So, every day we would travel to what seemed to be the only refrigerator in the area. Through a dusty landscape, full of that African culture, past dogs, children and chickens, every evening we reached for that little yellow door. And carefully put our ‘rushes’ of the day in our little ‘film saver’. Between the rice, peas and chicken.

The point is, not only did the family make their refrigerator available to us, they also invited us to dinner. Every time. And so, I learned in real life how these local people, whom we Westerners might call poor, were far from poor. They were, in fact, very rich. Rich in the ability to share, no matter what. And rich in other things that we in the West often can’t even imagine or put into words.

“I learned in real life how these local people, whom we Westerners might call poor, were far from poor. They were, in fact, very rich. Rich in the ability to share, no matter what. And rich in other things that we in the West often can’t even imagine or put into words.“

Another type of luxury

During our trip we also spent some time on the south coast of Ghana. It was a beautiful place. There was the incredible ocean and there were the little colourful huts that we each stayed in. The huts were part of a hostel run by a London woman from Camden and her Rastafarian husband. But there was no running water or electricity and my first thought was: help, how am I going to cope?

But then I began to understand more and more. The things we take for granted in the West are not always as necessary as we think. In any case, there was certainly nothing lacking here. I remember promising myself that I would no longer depend on the everyday comforts that I had become accustomed to in my life up until then. That I would hold on to that thought when I returned to London. Because it gave a certain extra richness to life that I had not experienced before. And as if returning to my old ways would break the spell.

Here, at night you would hear the musical drums all along the shore. Sounds that floated above the mirror that was the evening sea. And in this magical, spiritual location full of African culture, there were types of comfort and luxury that we Westerners can’t imagine. All you had to do was change your perspective, and this place lent itself eagerly to do that.

By the way, our film also had another memorable scene. It was when the Ghanaian mother of the main character, visiting from London, threw his laptop into the river. It was a very symbolic sign. Of all that technology and all that money that we in the West value so much. As something that stood between her and her son.

Fishermen

During our stay on the coast we met the local fishermen and their families. They lived off the food and income that the sea provided them. It was revealing to hear their perspective on life. Obviously, they wished for money so their children would have a better education or health care. But, they told us that despite being poor they were happy. They even literally told us that they would never want to trade places with us.

Actually, something else happened when I once left my shoes on the beach after a swim. I had also left some money in them. I went back for them but couldn’t remember exactly where I’d left them. Three days later one of those fishermen had found my hut to return my shoes and their contents! Again, when I write this now it sounds like a cliché. But it was a powerful message when I think about it: about money and about humanity. This money may have been this man’s month’s wages for all I know, but he gave it all back. Down to the last cent. For him, the value was in returning it to the person who had lost it. Not in the money itself.

Shrinks

The local ocean resort where we stayed had two Belgian psychiatrists as guests, who kept notes on all of us. There were also a couple of young guests who had made a dangerous trip through the Sahara on a motorbike. But even those people, given my story, were not the most interesting ones staying there.

Because there was also a group of Europeans who were here to do research for a project they were working on. Installing sinks and electrical supplies for the locals. Their project was based on the idea that the locals were missing something. And that they needed these Europeans to solve it. But none of the locals wanted it, as they kept telling us so passionately!

“Their project was based on the idea that local people were missing something. And that they needed these Europeans to solve it. But none of the local people wanted it, as they kept telling us so passionately!“

Film shoot

One of the locations of our story was near an actual palace building in Accra. It was for a scene where our main character was being ordained by the village elders. For his new position as a leader. There they were, a group of village leaders sitting under huge colourful umbrellas under the burning sun. Adjourned by a few priests or shamans calling on the spirits of the ancestors.

So why was this so revealing as a perspective, I hear you ask? Imagine this, if you can. Something had made me turn around and there they were. A large group of people — children, elderly people, even their dogs — all gathered behind us. Al sitting on chairs or the floor. Motionless, awestruck, and as still as the wind. Filming was not common in this part of the world at that time. And it was that spiritual atmosphere in which our actions (making a film) were experienced (as something totally new, almost alien) that struck me. That life is mostly just a perspective, not a truth. That it depends on the time or place you live in.

“Filming was not common in this part of the world at that time. And it was this spiritual experience that stood out for me. That most of life is just a perspective, not a truth. That it depends on the time or place you live in.“

Going home

When it was time to return to London and I boarded the plane, I made sure to hold on tight to a necklace I was wearing. The little doll on a colourful beaded necklace was given to me by one of our new friends in Accra. But for some strange reason, I came back with just the necklace, not the doll. If you’re inclined to believe in such things, you can say that it wasn’t ready for such a different world. Or to leave its familiar African culture behind. Either way, it was somehow gone by the time we got back to London.

One thing is for sure. When the crew and I both returned to London life (and I’m sorry to say I didn’t stick to my promise to continue living a simple life without modern conveniences), all that remained were the memories. The experiences and images of that rich African culture in our heads.

Final thought

It is clear that every country and its people have problems, on different levels. And it would be naive to say that I went to Ghana and everything was great. This is just one perspective, from the nineties no less. But from what I saw, there was nothing poor or needy about the people I met during my stay in Ghana. They and their lives were filled with a richness that I could never have imagined, let alone put into words, if I had not felt it myself. In fact, I am glad that I had their support to give me this new perspective. Because it is one that I would never have had otherwise, and never could have shared.

“I did not see any locals who needed our support from the West. In fact, I am glad that I had their support to give me this new perspective. Because it is one that I would never have had otherwise or been able to share”

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