Innocents Abroad

Yesterday afternoon we returned to our little hostel in Labone tired, dirty, and so happy to see our ugly iron front gate again. After a shower, nap, and pizza dinner, I felt happy to be home -- walking to class this morning, however, was another story. The baking heat, unbearable stench of open sewers, and unwelcome attention of random men made me long for the cool, clean, friendly villages in the Volta region where I spent the last 5 days. We swam in rivers and waterfalls, climbed the tallest "mountain" in Ghana, and met an extraordinary range of people on our travels up the Volta lake, across a small section of the North, and down through the forrested Volta region. What follows will be an attempt to chronicle our itinerary and all the thoughts running through my head on those long tro-tro rides...

PHOTO: Dave lounging in the hammocks at Akosombo

AKOSOMBO: We started at the site of the Volta Dam which makes the Volta Lake and the vast majority of Ghana's electricity possible. Day 1 was the halting tro-tro ride from Accra, and the one day when Dave wasn't with us. It made me appreciate the 2-guys-2-girls dynamic later on in the trip - Ghanaian men are always trying to ask if you are married or dating, and when there's another guy with you it's convenient. One guy with two girls was, ah, confusing for them. Day 2 we spent swimming and canoeing with a group of young boys, and I think it was one of the most relaxing days I have spent here. The nightly tradition of the "juice box," (cheap wine in a carton) guitar, and intense conversations also started in Akosombo.

YEJI FERRY: Day 3 was the waiting day. We had planned pretty much the entire trip around taking this ferry up the Volta Lake to Yeji, and we spent Monday waiting for the ferry to depart. While Dave and Netanus went to town to buy food and Dan wandered, I made friends with a couple of British guys who were setting out on a 16-day travel itinerary after 2 months of volunteering as teachers in Accra. We ended up setting up camp next to the British group on the top deck of the boat that night, and were having a great time with some Ghanaian beer and Beatles songs until an elderly neighbor told us to be quiet. Day 4 we spent waiting as well - waiting for the boat to reach its destination. There was lots of reading and writing and sleeping in the sun that day, and lots of conversations with fellow travellers, mostly Europeans. It really struck me for the first time what a priviledge it is to travel, and how strange the concept seems to people here (and, I would imagine, in many parts of the world). The idea of going someplace just to see it is strange here - even stranger is our desire to sleep outdoors and do silly things like hike and swim, but more on that later.


Tuesday night we arrived in Yeji after dark and joined a surreal procession into the village. The only light was the floodlight from the boat, reaching up the embankment into a swirling cloud of mosquitoes. We didn't know where to go for a hotel, but an anonymous guide told us to follow all of the other people, so that's what we did. This strange procession of foreign backpackers and Ghanaian women with giant loads on their heads wound up the hill and into the town, and eventually we found ourselves at a rather sketchy and overpriced hotel where the manager could not understand why the two girls wanted to sleep in one room together and not partner off with our male companions...

PHOTOS: Hanging out on the boat (Netanus's picture) and Dan's morning ritual on the ferry Tuesday at dawn

BIMBILLA: Day 5 was our roughest travel day. Early the next morning we met our same guide again, and walked down to the water where we boarded an enormously overpacked canoe that took us across the northern tip of the lake. At the next town we packed into the most crowded tro-tro I have ever been on (where we ran into our British friends and a few other familiar foreigners) headed to Tamale. We hopped off at Salaga and immediately found a ride to Bimbilla, allowing us to save a day of travel up to Tamale and then back down to Bimbilla. The price we paid for this more direct route was the tro-tro ride from hell. Most of the used vans that serve as tro-tros in Ghana are in poor condition, but this one was literally falling apart. I was convinced that the back doors or side panel would fall off. An hour outside of Bimbilla, something that sounded very much like a wheel axle made a large cracking noise, and everyone pilled out of the vehicle. After about 10 men looked at the wheel for 15 minutes, they decided we could get back in, and on we went. I spent the next hour terrified of dying in a typically Ghanaian accident, but the car managed to hold together until Bimbilla.

PHOTO: Grass and mud huts in Bimbilla (Netanus's picture)

The town itself was lovely and calm, with bicycles largely taking the place of cars on the dirt roads. There were children everywhere, all wearing various school uniforms (though this could have just been because our guest house was near several schools). Our Twi was pretty useless here, and it was difficult to find people who spoke English, which made finding food and the tro-tro park an interesting adventure. But everyone we met was incredibly nice, and it felt good not to have children and adults grabbing onto us everywhere we went. (Everywhere I have been in Ghana the children are different, though there are always so many. In Bimbilla they were mostly shy and quiet, though they came running from all directions to be in photos.)

HOHOE/LACKHAM: Day 6 went smoothly enough for a 4.5-hour tro-tro ride in which we passed from the brown of the North to the green of the Volta region. After some disagreement among some hot and tired travelers we decided to take a cab to Lackham Lodge, which turned out to be a brilliant decision. The first night there it rained, the first rain we had experienced since coming to Ghana. So, naturally, we celebrated by running around and doing cartwheels in it. Then we bought beer. The Ghanaian lodge employees thought we were insane.

PHOTO: the view from the top of the mountain above Bowire-Lackham

The next morning we tackled Dan's mission for the day: climb the ridge behind our lodge. After picking our way through some forest paths, we found our way to the nearest village where we luckily ran into a son of the village chief. He arranged a small semi-formal meeting between us, the chief, and two other elders in which we exchanged some cedis and a book of Alan Ginsberg poetry (thanks to Dan's generosity) for permission to climb the "mountain." They sent us up the steep path with 5 Ghanaian guides, and on our return we drank palm wine with the village elders and passed around our digital cameras with pictures of the view from the top. It was one of the most classic "Africa" days of the trip, the kind of adventure you could never plan using the guidebook.

HO: We rejoined our program directors and the other CIEE students Saturday in Ho at Chances Hotel, complete with AC and a beautiful pool. We got free food and transportation for the next two days, and visited two community eco-tourism projects: a monkey sanctuary and Wli Falls, by far the most impressive waterfall in Ghana.


It was a wonderful break from the road, and we had a chance to share our stories with our other friends who journeyed up to Mole Park and more of the Northern region. After some serious internal debating, I decided to keep going for the next two nights, which I think were maybe the hi-light of our trip.

PHOTOS: CIEE students walking into Wli Falls; the incredible cloud of bats circling the top of the falls.

CAMPING: After the official CIEE field trip finished (and after some serious indecision) I decided to extend my spring break for another two days. We had the CIEE bus drop us at the visitor's center in the town of Likpe Todome, which was an old church building with nothing inside except for one small table and several posters of the surrounding sights. We had come to the town to visit the caves, and after a quick reapplication of bug spray and sunscreen we were off for our second hike of the day, hurrying to make the loop back to town before dark. The hike up to the caves was intense but short, and absolutely worth it. The cave tour was unlike anything you could legally experience in the US - our flip-flop-shod guides tooke us scrambling up narrow crevices and across faces of rock with only the help of a few sturdy ropes, and nothing close to a liability waiver. But we overcame our respective fears (of falling or getting stuck in small holes) and had an amazing day. We rushed down from the hills to make it to our guest house just before the sky opened up with the second rainstorm of the week.


Monday morning we caught a tro-tro back to Hohoe where we ate, stocked up on food for camping, and found a cab to take us to Liate Wote, a town from which we would hike what the guidebooks call the tallest mountain in Ghana, Afajado. What you have to remember is that West Africa is not exactly mountainous. What we actually climbed was a horribly steep trail up a miniature mountain, only to find, at the top, another peak right next to us that was clearly taller. As it turns out, this other point is not considered a "mountain" since it is just the highest point on a long ridge. Boo. But the view from the flat, baking-hot mountain top was still amazing, and the camping Monday night was definitely worth the climb. We cooked beans on our little fire and fashioned tents out of boulders and mosquito nets. We also watched a lightening storm. Yes, from the top of the tallest mountain in the country. It was amazing.

PHOTOS: Alex on the climb up Afajado, the fire at our mountain-top camp site the last night

On our way back to town Tuesday morning, we had the only real blood of the trip (and so close to a clean finish!) when Dan lost in the fight with the garbage bin. Turns out a jagged beans can cut him in the hand, and we made a side trip to the government hospital in Hohoe. Luckily for everyone the wound wasn't bad enough to need immediate treatment, because we probably would have spent the whole day in that hospital. Once this was clear, we made for the tro-tro park and an early departure for Accra. (Turns out Dan didn't need stitches after all, though he might have a nasty scar on that hand.) So Tuesday afternoon we were home, extremely dirty and tired. A week later now, I'm not sure if I am happy to be back or not. There is certainly less to do in Accra than there used to be (with two classes no longer meeting and most of the sights already seen) but I'm not worried - we're heading out of the city again this weekend.