Bui National Park

As I sat in a canoe on the Black Volta River watching the nearby hippos I thought about how few people would see this place before it was destroyed in June. The construction of a 450MW hydroelectric plant on the Black Volta by Sino Hydro, a Chineese company, would flood 40% of the park, driving away the hippo population not to mention the people who live here. To compensate, the government will be paying 100GHS ($65) per household that will be washed away. But it isn’t just the houses that they are taking, these people survive by fishing the river. They have no idea how to fish the lake that will result from the dam. So, 65 bucks for a home and a livelihood… fair deal. From where I sat in Bui National Park, Cote d’Ivoire laid only 20km away, I couldn’t decide which humanitarian mess troubled me more.

The situation here really made me reflect upon the potential negative impact my work could have as an engineer. By no means did it discourage me from striving to help with the development of renewable energy in the future but it did reinforce my ideals of not blindly following my employer’s objective, as I’m sure the engineers at Sino Hydro did. If they knew what they were doing to the small but still relevant population of fishermen and the huge population of hippopotamus I doubt it could have been easy for them to design the plant without at least some sleepless nights. It is easy to pawn the blame off on the company for taking the contract or Ghana for requesting the plant but ultimately, the engineers who hold the knowledge to actually implement technology and choose to carry it out are no less to blame, possibly more so.

I knew that this was going to be a unique experience since the drive in but I certainly didn’t expect to see anything which would impact me so much.

I twisted uncomfortably around in my seat to watch the dust cloud in our wake as we made into the bush near the Ivorian border. The sight of the dust billowing behind us in front of the setting sun was fantastic enough to warrant the discomfort… not that comfort was an option when facing forward either. This was a tro-tro after all.

Eventually Kelly and I arrived at the park headquarters, or what we were told was the park headquarters. The Ghanaian national parks logo painted on a board leaning against some hippo skulls sat on the porch of a grey shack. This must be it? Luckily, a man wearing a parks uniform approached us and introduced himself. We were indeed at the headquarters. What was more of a surprise to me was the fact that we were the only visitors at the park and the first in days.

This place was beautiful. And also apparently had hippos… how can it be so unpopular? No one talked about Bui, it was never advertised and the section in the guidebook was only a few paragraphs. Until the hand painted plank at the park headquarters, I hadn’t even a sign for the park. There must be a reason that the park was merely a phantom to the outside world.

After the park caretaker had kindly taken me into town on his motorcycle to get some rice for dinner, the visiting population of Bui doubled. A cab dropped off two more tourists, Rick and Lawrence, medical students from the Netherlands. They were working in a hospital in a small town a couple hours south of Bui. They were also there to see some hippos and it was arranged for the four of us to begin our hike to the fishing village where we would charter canoes at 5am the next morning.

Uggh… there were more cockroaches in this guesthouse but no mosquito nets. Thankfully, I was really tired and my iPod kept me distracted for long enough to fall asleep before I sensed any sign of giant cockroaches near me as I slept. I need to get over my fear of enormous bugs… maybe next trip… probably never.

5am, time to go! I slipped on my sandals thinking that the discomfort of the 8km hike would be worth it to avoid getting my shoes wet. It was still pitch black out and we only got 30 feet before I stubbed my toe on a rock. It was the same toe as last time when I was returning from Togo. It had just healed too. Back to my room. Hand sanitizer, band-aides and real shoes. Good to go!

Sunrise

One sunrise later we arrived at the small village where our guide arranged for four pairs of fishermen to take us up the Black Volta on their canoes. At the river bank the canoes, half full of water, were waiting for us. Once they were bailed out we began our journey.

I can’t express how glad I was that we were in the hands of experienced fishermen who had been fishing this river, and avoiding hippo attack, for their whole lives. Canoeing into the habitat of some of the worlds most aggressive and dangerous animals could have been stressful if it weren’t for this.

One of the two fishermen on my boat

Canoeing in the Bui Gorge was actually worth the trip in itself. The jungle was lush on either side and beyond the trees, loomed mountains in the distance. There were tons of  colorful birds flying in routes criss crossing the river and the guide was explaining the diversity of wildlife found in the park: monitor lizards, cobra, lion, leopard, monkeys, green and black mamba. The last of which concerned me slightly.

After floating past some strange volcanic looking boulders in the river, a sandbar occupied the middle of the river. Above the sandbar I saw a small jet of water spray into the air. Hippos?

We rounded the corner of the sand bar and sure enough there were four hippos basking in the water. It was already warm so they had moved to the deeper water to allow for maximum cooling Because of this, all we could see was theirs heads protruding from the surface of the water… It was still magnificent to see just the heads of such awesome animals, let alone share the water with them.

Hippo heads protruding the water

After staying in place for about ten minutes to view the hippos, we moved on to other common spots of hippo congregation. These were less fruitful but still provided great general wildlife viewing. Our guide explained that there had been a British researcher several years ago who brought a whole team down to Bui to study the hippos and other animals. In his paper, he brought light to the fact that the construction of the hydroelectric plant would be catastrophic to the hippo populations. The Ghanaian government didn’t appreciate this and banned him from ever entering the country again. This happened when the dam was still in the planning stages, now it was years into construction and only a couple months from displaying these catastrophic effects. Now I understood why this place was never spoken of, never advertised, rarely visited and so far from common public knowledge. The government wanted it that way. Wouldn’t you if you were about to destroy a place so amazing?

After a few hours on the river, and passing the first group of hippos again, a little closer this time (maybe 80-100 ft away), we ended our cruise.

As we walked back to the park headquarters we passed through the village of Bui, a town which had been inhabited since the 16th century, I couldn’t help but stop and take a few pictures. Next month everyone in Bui will be forced out of their homes to allow for the park to be flooded in June.

A tro was passing through as we arrived at the headquarters. Possibly, the only one for hours. We hopped on and were on our way back to Wenchi. Before we headed south, the tro-tro took a detour through a blue gate marked in Chinese. It stopped at a dusty lot full of industrial equipment and picked up at least half a dozen men wearing blue overalls with “SinoHydro” stamped on the front. I wondered if they weren’t from around here or maybe they were just desperate enough for money to destroy their home. 

Aventure Grande - Partie Quatre

It was Thursday morning in Atakpamé, Togo. Hannah, Corbett and I were on a stroll through the market district after a breakfast of omelets, bread and an inexorbant amount of Yoki Pomplemouse soda… ok, maybe it was just me who drank 2 liters of that. The road meandered down the hillside through the makeshift landfill. Another trash heap… this one was on fire though. If there was ever air that I wanted to avoid breathing it was here, among the burning trash fumes. I saw a dead rat in the trash heap. I guess it was too much for him to handle too.

Eventually, we meandered our way back up the hill and into the center of town to catch a tro to our next destination. I realize that I painted a fairly bleak image of Atakpamé, but by no means was it a bad town. In fact, aside from the trash, it was one of the more beautiful places I’ve been. The whole town was built on a strangely placed hill amidst the savannah I could see it being a very pleasant and relaxing place to live.

A more appealing view of Atakpame

Nevertheless, onwards we went. Crammed into a tro-tro headed for Badou I enjoyed the view of south central togo as we climbed onto the mountain on treacherous switchback roads crumbing at the edges. It would have been frightening if it weren’t for the fact that we had the road to ourselves and there were no passing vehicles.

Here’s a video to give you an idea of what it’s like aboard a tro-tro:

After traveling for nearly three hours I finally saw Badou in the valley below and I knew that I wasn’t going to make it… I really needed to use the bathroom and at least a dozen kilometers of brutally bumpy switchbacks and mountain road lie between me and the nearest proper facility. It would have been something like riding “The Mean Streak” at Cedar Point for half an hour consecutively when the bathroom is all you could think about... utter hell. I made the tro stop to let me out. It continued without the three of us.

I had caused us to be stranded on a mountain road several kilometers from town with a long winding hike through the rainforest between ourselves and water… Some friend I am. Despite the unfortunate situation I had landed us in, it was actually an exceedingly beautiful place and the hike down to Badou was fun. Being stranded atop a mountain and having to hike a remote road through the rainforest to town is actually not such a bad fate.

Where we were stranded... thanks to me

Once in town we drank a ton of water, ate some rice and began to search for a ride to the Ghanaian border. After some negotiating for price, Corbett found a trio of moto drivers willing to take us. To our surprise, the border was 20km away through a narrow dirt road which was impassible by car… Good thing we were taking motorcycles.

I assumed that our drivers were exaggerating the road conditions to get a better price from us but there was no exaggeration whatsoever. I soon found myself clinging to the back of a motorcycle racing through the pothole laden dirt “road” which was scarcely wider than a hiking trail at highway type speeds. The forest thickened and before I knew it we were deep within the rainforest with enormous trees flying by on either side as my driver weaved in and out on the trail avoiding puddles and potholes without breaking pace. Ferns swatted my elbows as we cornered and weaved and the sky began to darken, threatening rain. Eventually we came upon a small shack with a Togolese flag waving above it. The border?

Yes… but only sort of. He had no means of stamping our passports, and therefore, no means of extending our Ghanaian visas (which need to be renewed every 60 days by international travel or paying a fee in Accra). Disappointed, we decided to pay the fee in Accra and continued for the Ghanaian checkpoint hoping they could stamp our passports.

More jungle roads and then we turned off the path onto a plywood, plank and lumber store discount pile hack job of a bridge over a small stream. On the other side was a lady (troll?) demanding a 5cedi toll. Of course, our drivers made us pay. We rolled over to the bench where Ghanaian soldiers monitored the international road traffic: one guy and a basket of fruit (rush hour). They informed us that this was an unofficial border crossing and were welcome to cross back into Ghana but there would never be any official, passport record of our return and therefore we would run into a whole heap of trouble whenever we tried to use our passports again. Luckily, there was another crossing to the north that could process our passports.

Back on the bikes. Back over the bridge. Back through the jungle. Back to unnecessary, dangerous and exceedingly fun speeds. Trees whipped by on the left and right once again and I thought “This is the closest I’ll ever be to riding a land speeder on Endor.” … nah, this is cooler. Luke Skywalker aint got nothin’ on me!

The trees broke, we entered a clearing and the forested mountain range revealed itself over the green vegetation. I watched the vista whirr by and thought about how this very well could be the coolest thing I’d ever done. Back into the forest. The sky darkened, the road flattened and we went faster still.

The accelerator eased and we coasted to a stop in a small village with a small brick building at the edge. A real border crossing with real stamps, Huzzah!

STAMP!

Walk a bit. Paperwork, small talk, confusion, STAMP! Back in Ghana. The confusion was likely due to the fact that I don’t think any non-Ghanaian, non-Togolese had crossed at this remote checkpoint in years.

We hopped in a car and were off to Kadjebi, Ghana. Then to a Ho-Hoe bound tro tro. I shared the front seat with a tragically misinformed Nigerian. After an hour and a half of explaining that African Americans in the US aren’t segregated into a separate state from everyone else I mercifully arrived in Ho-Hoe… Where did he come up with an idea like that? … It still baffles me.

Dinner!

Another Tro! ... or not.

We boarded a tro to Accra but we had to wait for it to fill first before the driver would leave. So we sat… and sat… and stood … and sat again … and fell asleep … and woke … and got impatient. After over 3 hours of waiting, the van was full and we were able to leave for Accra.

Another 3 hours later, at 3:30AM, we arrived in Accra. The journey was over but my wounds were not. With ISH in sight, I stubbed my toe at Opungalu causing it to bleed profusely… Of course, I spent a week on an epic adventure, come home unharmed just to wound myself at home… Of all the stories I could have behind that scar, It will just be the time I was tired and stumbled over a brick outside ISH… sigh.

THE END.

Aventure Grande - Partie Trois

Due to an internet outage I was not able to continue my daily Togo series but the tubes are once again unclogged and I shall now continue.

First of all, I would like to take care of some business of acknowledgement. I have uploaded all of Corbett’s Togo pictures and they are now available for viewing on my Picasa photostream. I’ll be honest, her pictures are way better than mine (mostly because I avoid people pictures) so her contribution is greatly appreciated. If you’re reading: Thank you Corbett!

Back to the story…

I awoke just before sunrise to the sound of prayer calls echoing through the hills of Sokodé from a multitude of mosques. It was actually a very pleasant alarm clock but I wasn’t ready to wake up yet so after a minute or two of appreciating the sounds, I fell back to sleep.

Eventually, I woke up permanently and the three of us embarked upon a breakfast excursion in the markets of Sokodé. After perusing the many options I settled on having two baguettes, buttered of course, and a fried ball of dough. Nutritious!

We eventually stumbled upon a place to get some coffee to go with the food aspects of breakfast. The place was called “Café Obama” and on the inside there was an enourmas “Yes we can” painted on the wall. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before but there are countless hotels and cafés across west Africa which bear our president’s name… he’s popular in these parts.

Cafe Obama

After, café Obama we began a post breakfast stroll through the streets of Sokodé. The red dirt roads led us to a small stream and a gauntlet of lush avocado trees and palms. It was almost like an oasis of greenery in the dry savannah and cityscape.

We followed this road up the hill and passed by a rocky hill, on top of which sat the city’s water tower. Some men were hanging around the entrance to the stairs, the view from the water tower hill had to be great… You know we had to ask.

Corbett approached the first man and began in French, he replied and based on her explanation this is what was said: “Well, due to security concerns there’s something you have to do first…” Uggh, red tape… “Ask my boss… boss?” he motioned to the old man next to him. “Yeah, of course. Lets go.” That was easy.

The boss led us up the steep, mossy stairs cut into the hillside and after rounding the water tower we reached a platform which had a great view of Sokodé. The town itself wasn’t spectacular but the savannah stretched out almost endlessly until it met the hazy mountains on the horizon.

View from the top

The old boss had some trouble operating the camera to take group photo but instead, took a stellar self-portrait when he pointed the camera in the wrong direction to take our picture.

The Bossman

We thanked him and went back down to the road to continue our aimless stroll of Sokodé. It was a lovely day in a lovely town. The best part for me was being in a place where absolutely no tourists go. Sokodé has no real attractions and therefore, no one waiting to take advantage of tourists. Everyone we met was kind, honest and I imagine, an appropriate representation of most Togolese.

Some highlights of our aimless stroll included a grove of gnarled old tress with boulders that could conceivably have become a great reading and thinking spot, a fantastic mossy rock wall and the city’s trash heap.

OMG, a trash heap!! ... why was I so excited? I don't know.

We relaxed at a café and ate our lunch under some trees by the roadside and watched the world go by.

Eventually, we made our way out of town and decided to head back to Atakpame. We arrived in Atakpame at sunset and made our way to a restaurant to eat on tree stump tables? It was interesting furniture and decent food.

The plan for the next day was to head westward.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Aventure Grande - Partie Deux

Sorry, I meant to post this earlier but I went to a soccer game instead. Not to brag, but it was pretty awesome. The match was between Accra – Heart of Ork and Kumasi – Asante Kotoka, two Ghanaian Premier League teams. It was in the national stadium in Accra so there was a pretty large crowd and my oh my do they get excited about the game. Anyway, Kumasi won 2-0 which was disappointing since I decided to root for Accra, but hey, I had only been a fan for two hours so it wasn’t too heartbreaking. So today is part two (or three depending on how you’re counting) and we were about to go hiking in the forest on Tuesday morning. This will be fairly picture intensive… hope you don’t mind.

No cockroaches. It was an excellent night's sleep. I awoke early in the morning and once Corbett and Hannah were ready we took a stroll back down to Chez Paul for breakfast. This time, we were careful to sit in the same superior table as we had last night. Paul walked in and stood there confused for a second and then said something in French. After translation it turned out that we had again chosen the incorrect table. We stayed put this time. Breakfast was the standard omelette, baguette and fruit.

After breakfast, we met up with our hiking guide at the hotel. He, like everyone else, only spoke French so Corbett was to translate for the duration of the hike. We set off, starting in the village.

Our first stop was a set of plants near a house in the village, there were a wide variety of uses for the assortment of plants he showed us but I honestly don’t remember much about them. Before heading into the forest we made a quick stop at the studio of a local artist who used bee wax gathered from the jungle, mixed with pigments to paint cotton cloth. The color permeated the cloth and the wax prevented bleeding of colors. The art was then dried, the wax residue removed and it was done.  Of course, we didn’t have time to watch him do all of this but he thoroughly described the whole process. Hannah bought a big painting of fish around a coral reef, Corbett bought a 3 painting series of musicians and I bought an elephant with it’s trunk stretched upward (a symbol of good luck).

I bought the orange one on the right

Back to the hike… We made our way down a gentle hill into the forest, passing coco, coffee, papaya, plantain and banana trees. Man, there was a lot of food hanging in this forest. We meandered through the bush stumbling upon pineapple, avocado and cola nuts. Cola nuts are in fact what is used to make cola flavored soda but in their raw form they were extremely bitter.

Coffee beans

There was also a wide variety of insects in the forest. Butterflies were everywhere, probably in higher concentration and variety than I had ever seen before. Enourmas millipedes several inches in length crawled along the path but I didn’t notice until after I stepped on one. Not to mention the huge and colorful grasshoppers.

To complement the fruit, butterflies and insects there was also many exotic and colorful flowers in bloom. The forest was teeming with life and color to a level I had never seen before in my life.

Eventually, we arrived at a small waterfall and it’s shallow pool. It was only a small fall but it’s remoteness and surroundings of lush plants and butterflies made it quite remarkable.

After visiting the waterfall to cool us off we began our hike up Mount Klouto. The hike was fairly long but not strenuous since the route wasn’t very steep. The view from the top provided a great vantage point on the region around Kpalimé. The city itself could be seen in the distance, right in front of Mount Agou. On a nearby peak, a chateu could be seen rising above the trees. A man from France built the chateau for his wife but after living in it for two days she decided that it was too remote so the couple went back to Europe, leaving the chateau for the people of the nearest village.

Mount Agou in the distance

Nearby, a small hotel was under construction atop the mountain. If anyone wants to go to Togo in a few years that’s the place to stay, trust me. In fact, I think I’ll tag along to make sure you find the place alright… please, I insist.

Hotel under construction

By the time we made it back to our hotel 6 hours… had not past, not even close. I guess the guide was exaggerating when he tried to sell the hike to us. Oh well, it was certainly worth it. We grabbed some water and rode back to Kpalimé, still on motos.

From Kpalimé we took a shared taxi over 100km to Atakpamé (pronounced a-tock-pah-may). Somehow, we fit 9 people in one (small) car. Two sat in the front passenger seat, the driver shared his seat with another passenger, four of us crammed into the back seat and a ninth guy sat atop the luggage behind the back seat. As we drove northward, the jungle became less and less dense and the mountains that had stayed by our side to the east for over a hundred kilometers, finally became subdued hills. We were entering savannah land.

We arrived in Atakpamé immediately after a rainstorm and within a minute of standing on the rain-soaked streets, before our legs could stretch out or find some food, a tro-tro to Dapaong, our chosen destination (for little real reason), arrived. We had to take the opportunity or else we could be waiting an unknown amount of time for the next one. We crammed into the crowded tro but they weren’t ready to leave. First, the mate needed to kick a blind man off for some reason. This, or something else, caused a stir and shouting ensued for several minutes. A crowd of vendors descended on the stopped tro (as they always do) like a flock of vultures. Shouting in rage, shouting of food names, arms reaching into the windows shoving food in my face, arguing inside the van full of over 20 people, drizzle dripping into the vehicle, exhaust fumes filling the air. Noise, chaos, absolute hell and I didn’t understand a word being said. A local passenger who happened to speak English leaned over to Corbett and said “This is what it’s like in Africa…” She knew. We all knew, it certainly wasn’t new to us but I was still far from used to it.

Eventually, we departed and a few stops later the driver insisted that I move to the front seat since I was too tall for my legs to fit between the seats in the back. The front was indeed nice. How had I never thought of this in two months of taking tro-tros?

We were on our way north and the sun began to set over the savannah. I stared out the driver's window for a good 15 straight minutes… hopefully he wasn’t creeped out by my apparent looking at him but the sun set was just too good to not look at. It was a typical savannah sunset like you might picture when you think of Africa. The deep orange sun swelled into an enormous disk which silhouetted the sparse trees on the dusty plain… Sorry I didn’t have my camera close by.

At 9:30PM we arrived in a town called Sokodé (pronounced sock-o-day). None of us had ever heard of it before and honestly, I was expecting to be in Dapaong already. According to the mate, we wouldn’t reach Dapaong until 1AM at the earliest. This would make searching for hotels quite challenging. We were tired of traveling and really without options so we cut our journey short and got off at this random town.

We found a nice enough hotel with a restaurant attached, ate our food and went straight to bed from extreme fatigue leaving the question: ‘what is there to do in Sokodé?’ for the morning.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Aventure Grande - Partie Une

I awoke to the sound of flapping wings. It was far from dawn, what could possibly be flying around my hotel room in the middle of the night? I repeatedly blinked my eyelids struggling to get a clear picture. Directly in front of my face, with only a mosquito net between us a 2 inch long cockroach crawled, then took flight again leaving my field of vision for the dark abyss of the far side of the room… I hate cockroaches. I shivered and hoped that I had tucked the mosquito net in. I had known it was going to be a long night ever since we returned from dinner and were surprised by an enormous mouse and a cockroach in plain sight. We were able to shoo the mouse out of the room but the roach evaded us. It was clear that no one was going to be able to sleep on the floor.

I don’t know if I conquered my fear of cockroaches that night but I certainly made progress since every time I awoke there was at least one crawling above me on the netting. Mercifully, dawn eventually came. I walked past the monkeys in the courtyard to the shower. There was running water at Chez Alice which was appreciated after that night, though I think the only shower in the hotel was for staff only I used it anyway.

Our adventure was about to begin, all we needed to do was take care of some business in Lomé and head out. If we were travel to Mali, we would first pass through Burkina Faso and being that they did not issue visas on the border and had no embassy in Togo, we made our way for the French Embassy. France sometimes issues visas on behalf of their former colonies and we were lucky enough that the embassy in Lomé could issue Burkina visas. What was less lucky, however, was the requirements, cost and hours of operation. At the French Embassy we learned that we would need hotel reservations, passport photos, copies of our passports and 40,000CFA ($80). This was difficult but not impossible. We could go to an internet café, book a hotel, find a passport photographer and make copies. The time constraint was the challenging part. The embassy’s hours were 8:00am through 9:30am and it was already 8:30. Leave it to the French to only be open 90 minutes a day. I was optimistic that we could make it in time. Corbett rounded up some motorcycle taxis, I hopped on one and the race was on.

We weaved through the streets of Lomé on the back of our motorcycles, dodging traffic, pedestrians and potholes. It was utterly terrifying at first but soon the terror faded and it became a thrill (no mom, I do not plan on buying a motorcycle... don't worry) The scenery rushed by as we meandered through an incomprehensible maze of paved and unpaved streets until we finally arrived at the internet café. It didn’t open until 10:00am and it was already 8:50. I accepted failure. I think Corbett and Hannah had realized that we were on an impossible mission long before I. We wouldn’t be able to enter Burkina and therefore the only way into Mali would be routing through Benin and Niger… If only I had a month to kill.

Over a breakfast of chocolate croissants we pondered the implications of our failure and came up with a new plan: no plan. We would wander aimlessly around Togo for a week never looking ahead more than a few hours. We had no guide book so our trip would be controlled by a small amount of previous reading and a large amount of guesswork.

Lomé was on the coast so we went north. Corbett had read about Kpalimé (pronounced Pa – lah – may) so we went to the station and bought tro-tro tickets to Kpalimé. It was a couple hours north in a cramped van with an old lady who fell asleep on my shoulder. The flat plains turned into forest and then a huge mountain grew on the horizon directly ahead of us. It was Mount Agou, the tallest mountain in Togo. Our van followed the road around the mountain and into Kpalimé, which is situated just behind the mountain. More mountains dominated the landscape to the north and naturally, they drew us in.

Corbett asked around for hotels atop a mountain and eventually the existence of such a hotel was confirmed. All that was left was getting there. This was Togo so we chose the most common type of transport in the country: moto-taxi. We each hopped on a moto and took off for the mountains. We climbed through kilometers of switchbacks into the mountains, flying by forests and waterfalls. The trees broke way every now and then allowing for me to take in the amazing mountain vista with forest covered mountains and Kpalimé sitting far below on the valley floor. It was an amazing ride.

Moto-taxi thru the mountains (Hannah directly ahead, Corbett ahead of her)

Eventually we arrived at a hotel, which was in the mountains but had no view sadly. The people who ran the hotel also operated a hiking tour business and offered to take us on a 6 hour hike through the mountains the next day for a price which we negotiated down to 5000CFA each ($10) kinda expensive but probably worth it as we would need a guide to do any hiking. Still, I was leery of getting ripped off.

A little bit down the road was a place called Chez Paul where we had our dinner. All the tables were completely empty so we chose one. Paul was shocked as if we had clearly chosen an inferior table and insisted that we change to a better table. This was quite confusing to me and I still have no answer to why one table was superior. I ate my couscous, which was pretty good and eventually, Hannah, Corbett and I all headed back to the hotel excited for the morning’s hike, which we were to embark upon at 7:00am.

TO BE CONTINUED… 

To Go To Togo

Dozens of people swarmed the narrow doorway pushing those in front of them up the stairs, some getting pinned against the folded glass door. The night air was thick with panic and diesel fumes. There was only one option, hold my bag tightly and hope I could stay on my feet to avoid trampling.

After I boarded the Metro-mass bus to Tema Station it was much less stressful. This was the first leg of our journey to Togo. Our group consisted of Tim, Hannah, Corbett, Catherine and her sister Megan whose flight had just landed a few hours earlier. We had originally planned to catch a tro-tro from Madina to Aflao, a city on the Ghanaian side of the border, but the last tro of the night left before we arrived so we were left with finding transport via Tema Station in Accra instead. Apparently, there were a lot of people wanting to get from Madina to Accra last Friday night so when the metro-mass bus arrived it was popular enough to nearly cause trampling.

After crisscrossing the city for a couple hours we finally found a tro to Aflao and were on our way. Unfortunately, we hadn’t left soon enough to cross the border that night and when we arrived in Aflao three hours later we had to find a hotel and wait for Saturday to enter Togo at the capitol and border city of Lomé.

Lome skyline from our hotel in Aflao

This was the largest border crossing between Ghana and Togo but it was still fairly unofficial looking. It was merely a dirt road with brick buildings on either side with immigrations officials for Ghana on one side, Togo on the other. Oh, and a beautiful beach not even 20 meters away... how those people can work with that out their window, I have no idea. Anyways, goodbye Ghana. One visa later I was in Togo and on my way to breakfast.

There are definitely some advantages to being in a former French colony, not least of which is the amazing food. We went to a delightful café slash ice cream shop where I ordered banana and honey crepes with a glass of fresh orange juice. This instantly elevated the status of my day to nothing short of awesometastic.

After breakfast we made our way to Coco Beach where we planned to stay the night. It was only about 10km outside of Lomé but that was enough to reduce the price of a beach side room, er.. hut, to 6,000CFA ($12). And what a beach it was. The water was brilliantly blue, the beach was empty and the waves crashed furiously. On the horizon loomed a chain of cargo ships waiting for a place to dock at the Port of Lomé.

One of the huts on Coco Beach

We booked our hotel, dropped off our bags and made our way back to Lomé to visit the Voodoo Market, leaving behind Corbett who had been there before and claimed it was too touristy. She was right.

Tables and tables of animal skulls sat before us as we walked into the open marketplace. It was mostly deserted except for a few people waiting to greet us and charge an entry fee… Then a camera fee. I smelt tourist trap and opted out of using my camera.

Our guide explained that everything in the market was actually from Benin, Togo’s neighbor to the east. Disappointing. He also assured us that all the animals died of natural causes. A lie, later exposed by a kid working for one of the vendors whose response to “How do you get these skulls?” was an enthusiastic “We kill!”. There were monkey, hyena, buffalo, hippo and elephant skulls among others all rotting in the direct sunlight. It smelled delightful.

Eventually our guide took us inside a nearby shelter where he had his friend, a son of a voodoo priest or something along those lines, sit us down, show us an array of charms and explain their uses. Good luck, safe travels, love whatever you could ask for. He then placed overturned turtle shells before us and told us to place whatever we wished to purchase inside. “Don’t worry about the price. The spirits will give you a good price!” he said. I smirked and handed back everything having no intention to waste money on this fool. Megan also had the same opinion and chose not to buy anything. We were told to leave since the ritual to activate the charm and ask the spirits for the price was for the eyes of paying customers only. Haha, I wanted to see that so badly…

Megan and I walked out. I chuckled as I left mostly because this whole place was hilarious but also because I was thinking about how badly “the spirits” were going to rip my friends off.

As I waited, I thought about how cool this place could have been if it was a legitimate voodoo market instead of a tourist trap. Too bad.

Everyone emerged with their hugely expensive trinkets in hand and we headed out. As we left, another batch of white tourists, cameras in hand walked in. As ridiculous as that guy was, you know he has to be making bank.

Back at Coco Beach I enjoyed the tremendous surf. I of course can’t surf but it was still fun to let the enormous waves break over me as I waded in the water. Later, We had dinner and I boldly chose a beverage called “Lion Killer” … it was pretty much just Sprite, still good though.

I woke up early on Sunday so I could watch the sunrise. An added benefit was the ability to watch the Togolese ritual of Sunday morning runs which I had heard about. Every Sunday morning around sunrise, nearly everyone just gets up and goes for a run. Coco Beach was fairly remote so only a few dozen people ran by but it was still interesting considering back in Ghana, running recreationally is almost unheard of.

At breakfast Megan's West Africa travel guide was sitting on the table and it led to the discussion of possible trips. I made the mistake of saying that there really wasn't anything to see in Mali based on nothing but ignorance. Corbett quickly corrected me and showed me the section on Dogon Country, where villages were built into cliff faces. It looked amazing and my opinion of Mali as a travel destination was completely reversed. I said that I wanted to go to Mali right now. Corbett agreed. I said that I was completely serious and as it turned out, Corbett was as well. Hannah jumped in and added her willingness to go to Mali immediately. Everyone else had unavoidable obligations in the coming week so it was just the three of us. We would hang out in Togo as a group then in the morning we would depart for Mali and the Sahara Desert, a thousand mile excursion that would last over a week.

With our minds turned back to the present we decided to visit Lake Togo on Sunday before heading back to Lome. We squeezed into a cab and were off to the lake, which coincidentally is actually a lagoon.

As we disembarked from the taxi we were greeted by a man who said he was willing to take us across the lake on his boat for  modest price. I don't know if I mentioned this before, but in Togo they speak French so during this whole trip I was dependent on the few French speakers in the group... just a side note.

Our destination across the lake was Togoville, a small community which well, none of us knew anything about nor did we have any desire to go there if it weren't for the fact that we wanted to ride on a boat and the prospects of finding lunch there seemed good. We climbed aboard, they unfurled the sail and began to punt across gondolier style. We floated between fishermen wading in the lagoon, tending to their nets and the tree lined shore.

Corbett and Catherine in the row ahead on our boat trip to Togoville

Once we arrived in Togoville there was a tour association who wanted to charge us a fee for a tour guide. We expressed that we had no knowledge of any such requirement when we boarded the boat and they agreed to let us wander without paying a guide. Nevertheless, a guide followed us and gave us background on the village as well as assisting in our quest for lunch. The main attraction of Togoville is the cathedral and shrine to the Virgin Mary who appeared on the lake nearly forty years ago. Pope John Paul II subsequently visited to confirm the miracle… Strange that we accidentally stumbled upon something so interesting.

Where The Pope sat (inside the Cathedral) 

We ate some lunch and headed back across the lake, then to Lomé and the Gran Marché. I had only packed for two days so an extended desert adventure was beyond my current means. I purchased some new (used) shirts for about 80 cents each and a backpack to hold the extra clothes. The backpack was quite a find. It is heavily used but is an enormous hiking backpack with a lot of character. I have a feeling it will be one of my most cherished souvenirs from Africa.

My new (very old) backpack!

Tim, Catherine and Megan departed for the Ghanaian Frontier and Corbett, Hannah and I began our search for a hotel so that we could begin our adventure in the morning. Prices in Lomé were discouraging so we ended up back near Coco Beach at a hotel named Chez Alice. Alice's house was pretty nice, there was a courtyard with a really playful monkey who enjoyed climbing arms and jumping from tree branches to my face. But what was more exciting was the fact that they served home made iced tea at the hotel bar! It was the first iced tea I had since arriving in africa and the best I've had in my life. It was a very strong assortment of berries and tea which ended up being deep purple in color. With iced tea in hand and the sun setting, I finally comprehended that I was about to go on a grand adventure... I was utterly content.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Here's a preview of the coming posts:

Independence Day!... Oh, No One Cares?

Today, I got up early and went down to Independence Square with Tim, Hannah and Catherine to watch the independence day festivities. Being conveniently located in Accra, the capitol of Ghana, we were lucky enough to have the biggest event of the day close by.

Google was on the ball like usual today... Even on a local level (google.com.gh)

As we arrived it seemed as though this wasn't a very exciting holiday for most Ghanaians. There was far less excitement, decoration and fanfare than typically seen back home on the 4th of July. There was only a small crowd filtering into the assembly grounds and contrary to expectation, traffic was fairly light. It was very strange. I expected Ghana to be more excited about their independence day since it's a smaller country and they only gained independence from Britain in 1957. But I was completely wrong.

As the morning went on the crowd grew to fill capacity of the square but I still wouldn't be so bold as to say excitement had reached fever pitch. Basically, this was just a crowd of thousands of very mellow people observing their holiday out of what seemed like obligation. This is of course only my experience, I'm sure some people celebrated with the utmost jubilance. Unfortunately, I failed to see these people.

When the president arrived there was some applause but that was to be expected. He then gave a speech which was completely inaudible due to poor acoustics. The ceremony ended with some cannon fire and a fly over. I captured the most exciting moment on film for everyone to enjoy (possibly more than the Ghanaians)

Anyhow, it was a lovely morning despite the lack of excitement. I still had a good time despite the Ghanaian sitting next to me who slept through the entire two hour ceremony. As a result, I inherited the task of pushing him back into his seat with my elbow when he started encroaching on my space in a incapacitated slouch. I asked myself at least a dozen times: "Why did he even come here if he was just going to sleep? Isn't a bed more comfortable?"... Then I felt like Dr. Hefzy, one of my professors who routinely made that argument to drowsy students.

The President leaves

This coming weekend I shall embark on an international excursion to the small Francophone country of Togo. It will make for good times, I'm sure.

Green Ghana

I recently started a project with Volunteer Partnerships for West Africa (VPWA) and Green Ghana Volunteers to reclaim degraded lands previously used for mining minerals in a village near Accra. The plan is to start 3000 Moringa oleifera from seed and by late April we will have them available to transplant onto the degraded land which we will repair with the addition of new soil. We will plant the trees in their permanent site on Earth Day as a celebration of The Earth Day Network's "Billion Acts of Green".


Once the trees are planted, they will enrich the soil and provide a new fertile patch of land for the village to farm as well as contributing directly to the sustained livelihood of the community by sale of their seeds, which are used in the production of Bio-Diesel, food and medicine. They will also provide funds for development of the village through sale of carbon offset credits since the Moringa oleifera tree's leaves are highly absorbent of carbon.

Myself, along with another girl from UG were the first people to get involved with the project and therefore, Hayford Siaw, the director of VPWA, put us in charge of recruiting further volunteers. I wrangled some up and today we went out to the Green Ghana Project site in the Eastern Region to plant some seeds. 


Our first challenge was creating the bags to hold the seedlings and their soil. We took used water sachets, which had been collected from their previous state as litter, and cut open the top to fill with soil. Then we placed seeds in and watered them. Over the course of the day, less than a dozen of us managed to plant 1000 seeds.

1000 baby trees

We took a mid day break for lunch and afterword we partook in some of the fruit growing on the site. First we ate this berry which is small, red and oblong in shape... some may know it as the "miracle berry" others may not know it at all. It increases the perceived sweetness of foods by altering your taste buds. After that we ate some fresh oranges and well, it was amazing. Just plain euphoric.

Miracle Berries

All in all it was a great and productive day. I'll be going back with some constituents this tuesday to continue planting as we prepare for earth day and the revitalization of degraded lands.

2 month old Moringa Oleifera saplings
(how old our transplanted trees will be on earthday)

The view from the Green Ghana Site

If you want to learn more go to: http://www.greenghanavolunteers.org/earth-day-2011
or simply: http://www.greenghanavolunteers.org/


If you feel compelled to donate to VPWA I commend your generosity and you may do so by visiting here. But don't feel pressured to do so, if I was in your shoes I would likely not donate... ('cause I generally don't do that sort of thing... but it is indeed a good cause.)

Ghana Independence Day is tomorrow! I get to experience two of those this year... I'll post my thoughts on the occasion. 

Mole National Park

I went northward this weekend. We started driving on Thursday morning and spent most of the day making the 250km trip to Kumasi, where we spent the night at Kwame Nkruhma University of Science and Technology. From Kumasi we left for Mole National Park, stopping at Kintampo Falls for lunch.

Kintampo Falls

Kintampo Falls is a waterfall as you might have guessed. I have no idea how tall it was but I'd guess that it was at least um... taller than me. Who needs stats when you have pictures, and you can see how pretty the falls were courtesy of my handi-dandy camera machine. Aside from being beautiful, it was quite an experience to sit under the falls. It felt like I imagine a power washer or maybe a truckload of marbles would feel falling on you. It was intense to say the least but certainly refreshing. 

After driving for the rest of the day on dirt roads and hitting my head on the ceiling about half a million times due to the potholes and road erosion, we arrived at Mole National Park! ... Just in time to do nothing. Well, I did get to hum the Jurassic Park theme as we passed under the gate, but I'm not sure that counts as an activity. The evening was uneventful, we needed to wake up bright and early for our 7am safari walk.

In the morning, there was a family of warthog congregating around my hotel door. I found this to be most exciting since I've always wanted to meet Pumbaa. Then I passed swarms more warthog on the way to the information center. Apparently, they're pretty common.

Pumbaa, I presume

Our group was assigned a guide named Eesa (no idea how it's actually spelled. long 'e' sound followed by 'sah' sound). He had been working at Mole since 1973 so I was quite sure he would be able to track down an elephant for us. We set off, making our way down the ridge and into the plains below. On our way down we passed several baboons hiding in the trees or running along the ground. We left the path completely and walked through the vegetation, which wasn't very dense.

Once in the bush, we hiked for over two hours but found no traces of elephants. Disappointingly, we turned around giving up hope on seeing elephants. On our way back we were fortunate enough to see some crocodilian chillin' in the watering hole. No one was eaten.

During our safari, a joint decision was made to spend the night on a tree top platform which we had seen on our hike. It was positioned next to a salt lick, where animals congregate to enjoy the ground's natural saltiness. We booked the treehouse and rented some bedrolls and mosquito nets, abandoning our motel rooms for the night. 

Eesa was again assigned to us as it was necessary to have an armed guide with us to prevent death by animal encounter, specifically the nocturnal predators such as lion, leopard and hyena. We set out just before sun set and luckily enough, snagged some breathtaking views as we hiked down into the bush.

Saturday's Sunset over Mole 

The tree stand was about 3 km from the motel, or any other building, so once we arrived and the sun set, return was not an option. Not a problem, I couldn't imagine a place I would rather be than a tree house in the African wilderness.

Home for the night

View from the treehouse at dusk

We ate our dinner, which we had packed before leaving, and talked as the night settled in. There was no moon but the stars were brilliant, the last place I saw so many stars shine so brightly was at Zion Canyon in Utah. It was a phenomenal sight to lay on the wooden planks of the tree platform and watch the stars twinkle through the branches of the tree. Meanwhile, the animals were becoming more active as the night went on.

There was a group of baboons in the trees not even 50 meters away which caused quite a ruckus. Eesa said that they knew we were nearby and the males were growling and howling in an attempt to scare us off.

Around 3AM I awoke to Eesa informing us that the current set of sounds was coming from a pack of hyenas who were hunting below.

Eventually dawn came, and I made certain to be awake for the sunrise. It was hazy and overcast, so the sunrise itself wasn't spectacular but it was certainly worth being awake for since at dawn, the group of baboons came out into the clearing below our tree platform. I recorded a short video of them moving into the clearing...

Not too long thereafter, we cleaned up, packed and started hiking back. On the route back, Eesa stopped then bent down to examine some disturbed vegetation. He informed us that an elephant had feeding there recently. Not five minutes later, we ran into that Elephant standing in some tall grass, feeding on the branches of a tree. It was across a marshy area so getting close wasn't possible, but it was still an elephant sighting and it still made my day.

The rest of the hike back was fairly uneventful but I think everyone was quite satisfied with our night and morning in the wild... I can officially say it was an awesome weekend.