Settling back in….

Amazing how quickly the new and novel can become the old and familiar.  I’m already settling back into the familiar routine of life in Kumasi.  Weekends are still somewhat the same, with Nela coming into town to spend the weekend here at the house.  Saturday night is for dinner out at one of our favorite haunts, like It’s My Kitchen (wide variety of food, including Chinese, noodles, pasta, and local dishes) or Moti Mahal (fantastic Indian food).  Saturday or Sunday during the day is usually laundry day, with the other day often spent at the university pool.

Side story: I was not one of those kids who got a pass to the local pool and spent my days splashing around and catching rays with my friends.  But here the university pool makes for both a relaxing afternoon and a way to get some sorely-needed exercise.  On my stopover in the Sydney airport, I bought a pair of swim goggles, which makes the experience of swimming in the heavily-chlorinated pool much more acceptable.  Swimming laps followed by sitting underneath the shade of an umbrella, sipping on an Alvaro while reading a book on my Kindle… very nice way to spend a lazy Sunday.

While there’s a familiar rhythm to my Kumasi life, there are a couple major changes to the routine of the past three months.  Change #1: we have a new cook.  Lisa found herself long-term employment managing the kitchen of a small hotel, a much better situation for her from a career standpoint than cooking for us.  She quit the job here during the week after Christmas, so I knew that she would not be around when I got back.  Since Benee runs a few guesthouses, he already had Dinah lined up to take Lisa’s place when Lisa quit.  While I do miss Lisa and her cooking, Dinah is doing a fantastic job.  She’s obviously done this for a long time, as evidenced by many little things, from the amount of time she took to reorganize the pots and pans in the storage cabinet to the white chef’s uniform that she often wears when she comes to cook.   

Change #2: I am living alone for the first time in my entire life.  I knew coming into this program that Steffi and Dorella’s Pulse assignments were set up to do a three-month project in a group of Kumasi hospitals followed by the same three-month project in some Accra hospitals.  They moved to Accra while I was on holiday, leaving me to come home to an empty house.  Since Benee and Ellie live downstairs and Dinah comes to cook, it’s not like I’m completely without other people around.  But I’m the only one living in the upstairs part of the house during the week.

In my life so far, I went from living with family to some great roommates in college and grad school to moving in with my husband.   Even during my four months in Australia in grad school I had a flatmate, making me think I might never end up living alone.  Strange to think that my first experience living alone is in a culture that I still don’t really understand.  Oddly enough, I think I’m more comfortable living alone here than I would be in the US.  Ghana is an extremely safe country, especially as it regards violent crime.  With regards to petty theft, Akmed does lock his car doors but leaves valuables in plain sight with no concerns that someone would break a window to get them.  While I do lock the door to my room at night, it’s more from habit than from any real fear of intruders, something that I can’t say when I’m back home in the US even though we live in a very safe Cary neighborhood.

So we’ll see how living alone goes.  I’m guessing (and hoping) it may lead to more involvement with some of the Ghanaians I know, at least if the past few days are any guide.  I’ve had longer conversations with Ellie since I got back than at any other point in the last three months, and Dinah has already invited Nela and me to come to her wedding next month.  If nothing else, all this solitude will likely give me more time to blog. 

Wli Waterfalls: a bit of Christmas magic

Ghana and the US have something in common at Christmastime: everyone and their brother (and their sister and their cousin and their cousin’s sister’s friend) are on the road on the 24^th of December.  Our trip got started on Ghana time, meaning that for our 10 am start, we began the trek from Kumasi at 12:30.  Leaving Kumasi took the better part (really, the worse part) of an hour to move a few kilometers.  But once we were on the road it was mostly smooth sailing with the exception of a few slowdowns in the larger towns on the road.  Around 5:30 the road to Kpando split off from the Accra road.  The good news is that the traffic noticeably lessened.  The bad news is that the roads got noticeably worse.  We weren’t quite at the level of tarmac-deficient sections of road to Tamale, but there were some very pothole-ridden stretches.  The pitch-black of this mostly uninhabited region made for slow going, getting us in to Benee’s dad’s house in Kpando after 10 pm.

Much like any other day in the tropics, Christmas day dawned around 6 am.  We breakfasted on pan-toasted bread (thanks to Dorella) and scrambled eggs (kudos to Markus), accompanied by fresh oranges from the back garden, harvested by Kofi (the caretaker) and prepped by John (butler is probably the best way to describe his role at the houe).  Around 9:30 we started the 1.5-hour drive from Kpando to Liati Wote, the closest town to the waterfalls.

After paying our 6-cedis-per-person to see the waterfalls (discounted from GHC8 for being volunteers), we headed along the gently-sloping trail towards the falls.  In past times, one had to wade through the meandering stream a total of ten times, but now there are sturdy wooden bridges for all the crossings, making it much more tourist-friendly.  A leisurely 30-minute walk through the woods took us to the clearing at the base of lower Wli Waterfalls, the highest waterfall in West Africa.  (The walk to the upper falls was a much more grueling trek and, according to the Bradt guide, was not allowed during the rainy season, which they defined as 1 July to 31 December.)

Lower Wli Waterfall

Even at the start of the dry season, the volume of water passing over the 50-m drop of the second fall was impressive.  I laid my backpack down on a bench, grabbed my camera, lenses and tripod and wandered off to find a good vantage point for my waterfall pictures.  But I quickly got distracted by the butterflies that were swirling above some damp ground where the water puddles up from the falls.  Anyone who has been on a hike with me knows how much I love butterflies.  I stood in the middle of the butterflies, mesmerized by the colorful beating wings around me.  Utter joy and peace mixed with a tinge of sadness brought tears to my eyes as I realized that I was experiencing an almost-perfect Christmas moment, one that would have been perfect if I were sharing it with LJ.

After a few more minutes, I put the zoom lens on the camera and started snapping away to try to capture a bit of the butterfly magic for posterity.  Some of the butterflies were nothing like I’ve ever seen before, even in all the butterfly houses I’ve visited all over the world.  (More pictures of the waterfalls and butterflies can be found here.)  Eventually the butterflies seemed to tire of me, so I wandered closer to the water with my tripod to capture more pictures of the waterfall.  Markus and Benee both took a dip in the shallow but chilly water at the base of the falls, a feat all the more memorable since Benee had never ventured as close to the falls as he did that day. 

"Beautiful butterflies"

 When we showed up, there were only a few people, but as the day wore on the crowd grew much, much larger.  A group of Indians showed up, followed by about 15-20 locals.  On our way out, we watched as numerous other locals passed us carrying the makings of a great party—coolers full of food and drinks, a stereo, a generator, and a speaker the size of the guy carrying it.  Things were going to get really loud since they would have to crank the stereo to 11 to hear over the noise of the waterfalls and the generator.  Arriving back in the town of Wli Agoviefe, we headed to the German-run guesthouse, Waterfall Lodge, where Dorella was having a nice rest in the shade with a great view of the waterfall from the peaceful outdoor seating.  After some cold drinks, we strolled back to the parking lot of the visitor center, which was overrun with buses and cars and people as the party continued.

For dinner, Benee tried to find a particularly nice restaurant he remembered in Hohoe (pronounced “ha-way”, much to the detriment of this Christmas-themed post), but that didn’t quite work out.  Instead, we ended up in the tiny restaurant of the newly opened Cede’s Hotel in Kpando.  I was excited at the prospect of pizza for Christmas dinner, but unfortunately, even though pizza was on the menu, it was not available that night, a not uncommon occurrence in the restaurants we’ve frequented in Ghana.  I didn’t end up having “Chinese turkey” (reference to “A Christmas Story” for those you of you who missed it) but the chicken and rice I had might be the Ghanaian equivalent.  We spent the end of Christmas evening sitting on the veranda of the house in the cool evening air, talking with Kofi (Benee’s dad) and his wife Mary, an enjoyable end to a peaceful Christmas day.

Red skies at night… and in the morning… and all day long

During the time I was gone on holiday, Ghana went from the end of the wet season to the start of the dry season, bringing with it the harmattan, one of the few words in the local language of Twi to have entered the English language.  Every year around this time, the harmattan winds come down from the north of Ghana, bringing a thick cloud of dust from the Sahara desert that hangs dead in the air, giving the country the appearance of LA on a smoggy summer’s day.  Flying into Kumasi on Tuesday, the top of the harmattan haze could be seen just below the plane’s cruising altitude.  Descending through the haze, I was shocked that they still allowed planes to fly in something with that low of visibility.  Within hours of landing, I could feel my throat getting dry and scratchy from the dust particles suspended in the air.  I was painfully reminded of my experience with our road trip to the north in December and am crossing my fingers that I don’t come down with another respiratory infection.  No wonder people get sick here much more easily at this time of year. 

The importance of the harmattan was brought home to me by seeing today’s editoral column in “The Daily Graphic” (“Ghana’s biggest selling newspaper since 1950”).  Harmattan is blamed for all sorts of ills, from the expected dry skin and respiratory infections to an increase in both car accidents (from the poor visibility) and food-borne diseases (from microorganisms carried on the harmattan winds).  

Rumor has it that harmattan normally lasts only about a month, ending in late January or early February.  Unfortunately, the weather experts say that we’re in for an especially harsh harmattan season this year.  Record-low temperatures in the range of 12-16 Celsius (53-61 Fahrenheit for my fellow Americans) have been recorded in the northern regions.  Those temperatures may not sound that cold to those of you experiencing a snowy winter, but this is a country where people put on sweaters when the temperature drops below 22 Celsius.  I prefer the humid, hot days when I arrived to the cooler but dusty weather of harmattan, especially when I read on Wikipedia that “spontaneous nosebleeds may occur for some [people]”, since I know from my years living in Colorado that I fall into that category.  Details of the predictions can be found here, along with an all-too-accurate picture of what the sky looks like these days.  Somebody wake me when the harmattan ends.

In God we trust, all others pay cash

In honor of being back in Ghana, I wanted to share with you one of the first things that travelers notice when arriving in Ghana:  the proliferation of business enterprises with an explicit nod to Christianity.  One of the main reasons cited for the ubiquitous nature of God-themed capitalism is the belief that it should help bring God’s favor on the business.  Taxi and tro-tro drivers also get into the game by posting religious names on the backs of their vehicles.  Not surprisingly, evangelical megachurches do pretty well here.  Since there are enough unique signs for multiple blog entries on this topic, today’s list focuses examples of the various sorts of shops out there. 

Ever had a meal that you thought was divine?  Maybe it came from one of these restaurants or caterers:

Genesis Catering

God Is Able Catering Services

Heaven’s Kitchen Fast Food

Jesus Saves Catering Services and Training School

God’s Grace Fast Food

King Jesus Kitchen

Holy Ghosteous Fast Food

No Jesus No Life Pastries

Think God doesn’t care how you look?  Not true, according to these businesses:

God So Good Salon

Count Your Blessings Cosmetic Shop

God Is My Fountain Hairdo

In God We Trust Beauty Salon

Jesus Opens Door Salon and Barbering

God of Mercy Salon

Godland Jewelry

Jesus Way Fashion House

Holy Head Fashion and Beauty Care

God is a fan of the blue-collar worker:

God Bless Furniture

God Is King Carpentry Shop

God’s Time Plumbing Works

God First Furniture Works

The Chosen People Welding

Jesus Christ Is Our Savior Plumbing

Did you know that God supports modern technology?  These business owners sure think so:

Jesus is the Answer GSM Phones

God’s Gift All Transfer Units [Editor’s note: transfer between mobile phone providers.]

The Lord Is My Portion Telecom Centre

Glory to Jesus Communication Centre

God is Good Foto and Video Production

Divine Media Video Productions

God’s Eye Photo Centre

For this last list of businesses, the only thing I know is that they want God’s support, as I can’t figure out what they’re selling:

God Loves Me Enterprise

Christ Is My Hope Enterprise

Him Is Life Trading Enterprises

Thank ‘U’ Jesus Enterprises

Because He Lives Ventures

If You Miss Jesus, You Have Miss Everything Ent.

The Evil That Men Do Lives After Them Ent.

Mygodius Enterprise

My favorite name so far?  Seen on our trip to the Volta region:

Arise and Shine Drinking Spot

Mole National Park and Tamale: the final chapter

Editor’s note: Until January 19, I’m on holiday to see LJ and my sister, Becky.  She’s living in Guam and LJ has customers in Australia and New Zealand.  Even though it took me a 5-hour bus ride and three flights over the course of > 24 hours it took me to get to New Zealand, it’s still the most logical place for us to meet.  Until I’m back in Ghana again, I’ll leave you with the final installment of our trip to Mole National Park in December.

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We now return you to your story already in progress.  When we last left our intrepid heroes, the first day of the Mole National Park trip was over, with another safari walk scheduled for early Saturday morning—very early, since the alarm went off before sunrise. After getting dress and gearing up, we walked over to the visitor center to meet up with DK at 6 am, the time we arranged the day before.  Unfortunately, he was not there.  His absence should not have surprised us, as setting a time earlier than the usual start time for the safari walk should not be expected to work in Ghana.  The guy who seemed to be in charge of calling the guides eventually found DK.  Due to the even larger obruni flood than the previous day, four girls were added to our group of four (one less than the full five since Dorella decided to sleep in).

The morning walk started with the same spiel that DK gave the day before, which he could probably give in his sleep.  Our first wildlife sighting was a pair of warthogs fighting along the roadside.  DK had to warn one of the new girls not to get too close to the pair.  We headed off towards the housing for the park employees and their families to see the troop of baboons that hang around there.  Watching the baboons, I was struck by how human some of their behaviors were.

 As we headed off further into the bush, we caught sight of another troop exhibiting very human behaviors—a troop of tourists, that is.  Since the obrunis are such a rare sight in Ghana, we made sure to take pictures of them. The morning walk led us through some grassy areas that obviously were waterlogged during the rainy season, as evidenced by the deep elephant footprints captured in the drying mud.  As on the previous day, we saw another herd of kob and a bushbuck, the latter of which we were able to approach to within a few meters.  The highlight of the tour was the view of the watering hole from a shelter on the edge of the water.  The sheer numbers and variety of birds made me understand how Ghana could be on the serious birders circuit.  On our way back to the information center, we passed by the large dirt mounds where a couple red monkeys were playing.  We tramped our way up the trail to the escarpment on which the motel sits.  I thought the novel wildlife sightings were over, but my binoculars allowed me to catch sight of a huge eagle sitting in the top of one of the trees down on the plains.    

Three tries at seeing an elephant, but three strikes and we were out—out of Mole, that is.  After breakfast, we packed up the car and headed to Tamale.  On the drive to Tamale, we passed through numerous villages with the round huts of the northern style.   The broken A/C in the SUV meant that we spent the entire trip with the windows open.  The brutal heat of the dry north, with temperatures in the low to mid 30s (Celsius, that is) made me decide to stick my face against the open window for the trip.  This turns out to have been a bad idea for a host of reasons which will be divulged later.  Upon our arrival in Tamale at TICCS (Tamale Institute of Cross Cultural Studies), our lodging for the night, I was covered in red dust.  Removing my sunglasses, my face resembled that of a skier who wore goggles on a sunny day but no sunblock, except that all the red was dust, not sunburn.  We checked into our rooms at where I encountered a small problem with a non-working sink.  Luckily they had another room for me.

Driving around in Tamale, I realized that the Ghana guide was right about the proliferation of bicycles and motorbikes in Tamale, as well as the mosques all over the place in this transition to the Muslim north.  We headed to the cultural center in Tamale for souvenir shopping and a snack.  I picked up a number of batik-printed items handmade by the Colwod women (also referred to as COLWOOD), Collaboration with Women in Distress, an organization that helps abandoned women to learn how to support themselves.  (Thanks to Caroline for mentioning the organization.)  We retired to TICCS where we had dinner and drinks in the second-floor terrace bar.  The trip must have exhausted me because I went to bed around 9 that night.

The next morning, French toast with fresh fruit was the breakfast served in the main dining area where we were the only guests.  Since there was nothing else in particular that we wanted to see in Tamale, we packed up the car and headed home. 

The start of the long car-ride home was made much more entertaining by the addition of Kenny G does the 80s, which is what I called the Muzac versions of 80s hits that Owusu had on a CD.  Not all of you may know this, but I’m a major 80s music fan.  I threw down at this 80s trivia game that I invented, since I could identify most of these 80s hits by name and artist within the first few saxophone notes.

Passing over the Volta River, we saw the record flood levels that had devastated the villages along the banks as seen in this snapshot from the car window.  Our next water-based stop was the Kintampo Waterfall, located just north of Kintampo on the main road.  The first and second falls weren’t much to see, but the third one was rather impressive, as shown in this photo gallery.  We spent an enjoyable couple hours taking pictures and relaxing.  I spent much of that time chasing pictures of butterflies with my camera with much less success than at the Bobiri Butterfly Sanctuary.  Our last stop of the trip was at “the center of Ghana and the universe”, marked by a small square of concrete walls and a Ghanaian flag. 

 Our trip was over, but I would not soon forget it.  Remember that red dust that I inhaled during the drive from the park to Tamale?  It gave rise to a nasty sinus issue that took weeks to resolve, evolving from a cold-like situation to a likely sinus infection.  It took until the last week of December for me to feel like I was back to normal.  I’m hoping that this is not a prelude to the dry season here in Ghana, notorious to the locals for the proliferation of sinus problems. 

We may not have seen any elephants on our trip, but the visit to Mole National Park and Tamale were still an enjoyable getaway, with the desert north and the savanna park providing a nice change of scenery from the jungle surrounds of Kumasi.