Once again, the SEED coaches went on the road.  This time we were off to Kumasi, the former capital of Ghana.  Melissa, our wonderful coach wrangler, runs a hotel there.  It is the second in the chain of Miklin Hotels, named after Mike and Linda, her parents.  All three are charming hosts. It’s a great example of successful family businesses here in West Africa.  We saw a lot more examples in our 2 ½ days there.

We went to a place called Suame Magazine.  I’d pictured reporters, photographers – hey, we’d be famous in Ghana!  Well, not so much.  Or at least not there.  I think “Magazine” is closer to the French word “magasin,” or “store.”  This place is the world’s largest auto parts swap meet.  It stretches over 63 acres and is row after serpentine row of market stalls.  Pick a part, any part.  It is there, or made there by the very talented artisans.  I was amazed at what they were able to do with so much scrap metal and recycled parts.  They do not beat plowshares into swords.  They beat them into grinders and palm kernel crackers and more auto parts.  Unusable parts are melted in locally made furnaces and recast in any number of precision forms.  The work is hot:  90 degrees and 70% humidity next to a 3000 degree cooker.  Be warned however, if you don’t know exactly where you’re going, you’ll have better luck finding your way through a 63 acre cornfield maze.

Furnace for melting scrap metal poured into grinder wheel molds.

Bridge Over Troubling Waters: Kweku navigating the “pipe bridge” over a sort of creek at Suame Magazine

Maize grinder fashioned from recycled metal machined onsite.

Grinder wheels in molds. These are cast from recycled/smelted metal

Leaf springs and 5th wheels at Suame Magazine. I’ve never seen so many in one place.

Suame developed as an ad hoc assemblage of related businesses – some complementary, some competing.  The Suame Magazine Industrial Development Organization is working with the cluster of approximately 12,000 different stores to provide structure and bring skills forward into higher technology pursuits.  Cars that required manual tuneups and carburetor rebuilds now require new onboard computers and sensors to roll again.  They are working with this vast pool of talent to address the aftermarket needs for today’s high tech products.

Our newest coach, Terry Duryea in Suame Magazine. We sure can use the help. So yes, Terry, you are God’s gift.

The next “business tour” was to Bonwire (pronounced “Bonwree”) to buy Kente cloth.  Check it out on the Google Machine, there are lots of references.  It is a very special cloth, peculiar not only to Ghana, but Kumasi in particular.  We were asked to play the role of customer.  Well, actually, I was asked by my sister and daughter.  It is woven locally and you really need to bargain for this expensive product.

Kente weaver at Bonwire. The warp is extended about 20 feet out, stretched and held down by stones.

Around the storefronts it is chaotic.  Since Bonwire is frequented by tourists, the sellers and wannabes descend on you quickly.  They are persistent and somewhat aggressive.  It is easy to get freaked out in this situation.  However, there’s not a lot of real danger here, and joking around with them dispels tension.  But not persistence.  They are trying to make a living.  This technique works for them a lot of the time.  Since it was obvious that we ALL came to buy, we attracted a lot of attention.  Bonnie and Kathleen will be delighted to know that Melissa did the negotiating for me, and did it very well.  You will both look lovely.

Here’s a link to a video of the gentleman weaving:  http://youtu.be/G0mPfwy6doY

Our host Mike Nsiah is friends with Otumfuo Osei Tutu II.  He is Asantehene (King of the Ashanti) and is revered by all in this huge tribe and highly respected by everyone in West Africa.  In his way, he is more influential than the President of Ghana.  We were invited as guests to Awukudai, a festival which occurs at about 4 month intervals.  Here’s where I pinch myself.  I never shook hands with a king before.  We were solemnly introduced and presented to him and the multitudes as part of the Stanford University SEED program, right after several kings from Nigeria but before the opposition candidate for President of Ghana.  Otumfuo (“His Highness”) then came back around to greet us more personally after the festivities.  He has taken a great interest in the SEED program and what we’re trying to accomplish in his country.  It’s great to have a supporter like him.

Otumfuo Osei Tutu II at Awukudai. To his right is the gentleman who carries his water.

Preparing for Otumfuo at Awukudai, Kumasi

Awaiting Otumfuo at Awukudai – Chiefs of Niger State, Nigeria

Being presented to Otumfuo Osei Tutu II

Queen mother Nana and me

The coaches and friends at Awukudai: Melissa Nsiah, Terry Duryea, Mike Nsiah, Linda Nsiah, Clinton Etheridge, Robert Mayberry, Corinne Augustine, me, Alan – Kweku’s cousin

When I was a kid, I never even dreamed of these experiences.  My job at HP took me all over the world.  I’d find myself riding around Bangkok in a tuk-tuk (jumping out of a plane without a parachute is safer), being a guest of “Cornbread” Maxwell at a Celtics game, or bathing in a mountain resort in Japan while negotiating quality issues with a strategic partner.  These are times when I think I’m a stunt double for someone else’s life.  And I wake up every day startled that I’m in Africa doing this work.

Field trip time again.  Since all of us have client companies somewhere in Nigeria, all the coaches plus our wrangler/mom, Melissa, packed up and headed  to Lagos.  When our Ghanaian friends heard this, their responses were all the same:  “Oh, you’re going to Lagos!”  Eye roll, nervous laughter, conspiratorial nod of the head.  After about the 10^th time, it got a little unnerving.

A simple yet effective alternative to an electric fence

I thoroughly enjoyed Lagos and the hospitality of our Nigerian hosts.  Yes, it’s a big city, with big city problems and attractions.  It has high unemployment and poverty like a lot of places in West Africa.   Nigerians are (by their own admission) more forceful than Ghanaians, who agree with that assessment.   The feel is different – bustling, moving fast.  Lagos’ population is nearly the same as all of Ghana.  It’s spread over a large area of mainland and islands.

Stars and Stripes Forever – Clinton and friend at Lekki Market

We stayed in a hotel on Victoria Island.  It sports some of the most expensive real estate in the world.  The juxtaposition with parts of the mainland is jarring.  Imported tile, corrugated metal or thatched roof?  Private school or no school?

Lagos – Contrasts

Traffic is the common denominator.  Lagos is now #1 on my list of places in the world where I don’t want to drive.  Or even open my eyes while on the road.  Picture downtown Boston without rules.  OK… too easy.  Lots of drivers in many places in the world make 3 lanes from 2.  In Lagos they turn 2 into 5.  Cruising at about 40 mph down a main highway, I heard thumps.  No, it wasn’t  a bad tire.  We were trading paint with cars around us.  NASCAR in Africa!  The driver thought nothing of it.  But when someone ahead slowed down, he sure got upset.  Abuja (capital city in the north) is beautiful, with similar congestion.

The Grand Mosque in Abuja

We had the opportunity to talk to government leaders in the capital.  There is a wide gulf between their view of the economic situation and that of business people.  The former were bullish about everything.  New programs are the solution.  The folks we talked to were very serious, and may make a difference some day.  The business leaders were more realistic and cynical.  They saw a public sector that “lost” $20B, then immediately fired the official who sought to investigate.  The shiny object called oil made them lose sight of Nigeria’s strength as one of the world’s top agricultural exporters.  Now they can barely feed themselves.  One might ask, just where is that oil wealth is going?  The GDP growth rate is phenomenal, but that money stops somewhere.  A short drive down the street makes it painfully clear where that money is NOT going.

A suburb of Lagos

Our team of 5 coaches is split across a pair of 3-bedroom apartments.  Think:  dorms.  I guess that’s apropos, given that we’re working on behalf of Stanford University.  It is a bit … interesting to have a group of 50- and 60-somethings in this sort of living situation.  To their credit, Stanford is working hard to improve things in this regard.  Parts of it do work quite well. In particular, we’ve gotten a bit creative with the food situation.  We have pooled our per diems and hired an excellent chef.  Dinners are wonderful, and we don’t have to do the dishes!  Most important, we get to “talk shop” every night for a couple of hours and help each other address the issues facing our cohort companies.  That is priceless.

Of course, someone has to do the shopping.  Each fortnight, the job of planning meals and shopping passes to a different coach.  My turn comes up Sunday, so I started the transition from the last coach.  Prices in retail shops are high and it’s difficult to stretch the cedis.  The open markets here are another story, however.  These are bustling affairs with all kinds of goods laid out – scrap metal to garlic, used shoes to snails.  I love these places.  When I’d hit a new town in Asia, I would always try to go to the market.  These are the best spots to get the feel of the city.  Vendors are always friendly as they call you over to look at their wares.  The bartering between locals is as enlightening as it is entertaining – although I never have a clue what they are saying.  Tony, our main driver, and our great chef Mark offered to help us in our shopping spree.  So two locals with two obronis in tow, we set out for Agbogbloshi Market to get some good deals on produce.

Foreigners in Ghana (particularly white people) are generally thought to be rich.  As is the case in most countries where bartering is prevalent, outlanders are generally charged higher prices.  You can negotiate to improve it, but the “floor” is always higher than for the locals.  Being very clever folks, we decided to let Mark do the negotiating.  Unfortunately, he had these clueless expats drafting behind, which made his job harder.  Once we figured this out, we tried to drift away and act nonchalant.  Too late.  He was “made,” and the word went out up and down the stalls.

Buying gari (cassava flour). Sala is the woman on the right, carrying our produce. It was only half full at this time. She…was…amazing

All shapes and sizes. Pineapples here are goooood!

Let’s put this in perspective.  We got a huge load of fruits of vegetables for a fraction of what one would pay at Whole Foods or even Costco.  In the thrill of negotiation, sometimes it’s easy to forget who you are and where you are.  Relatively speaking, we are very rich.  Wringing every last pesewa out of the deal might do wonders for your competitive instincts, but maybe it costs you in other ways.

Fish market at Tema next weekend.  Piles of dead fish on the shore.  Shorter shelf life, more aroma, better stealth.  This is gonna be good!

This gentleman wore a smock that said “Market Leader,” and took great pleasure in whacking all the tro-tros (minivan buses) with a switch and a nightstick. He wanted to make sure we were there to buy, not gawk. After we resolved it, he indicated that we should pay him (for something, I suppose). I gave him my change. He forcefully indicated that it wasn’t enough. I gave him more. Did I mention he had a nightstick?