Fishermen leaving the docks in Accra, Ghana. Personal photograph by Michael. 19 May 2008.
The docks were buzzing with activity when we arrived there around six a.m. Fishmongers were readying their tents. Fishermen--all men--were cleaning their boats and pushing them out to sea. Soon they would return and the women would start their work. They would relieve the men of their morning catch and proceed to scale and fry the fish on their charred makeshift grills.
One man stood out in particular. He was taller and larger than the others, and the rest. Perhaps he was a Lord of the Docks, doling out fish and responsibilities. Or perhaps he was a drug dealer. There were several men wandering the docks who offered us to get high.
The entire morning made for a wonderful sociological experience. Somehow, everything seemed to fit -- parts of a complex mechanism that hummed along just fine without anybody's help. The men worked in tandem. The women picked up baskets of fish, balanced them on their heads, and started on their long treks to the villages. The kids would chase stray dogs in and out of rickety huts set up along the shore. Stacks of narrow, charred smoke from the grills wove themselves into the fresh air. It was a sight no picture could fully capture.
