Please forgive me for never posting the end of my time in Ghana! Here is the summation of my trip to Mole National Park to see elephants and my last days at Mawuvio's. Here it is, a year late.
8 December 2013 | Sunday
Today, I got back from my
trip to Mole National Park. It’s something I’ve been trying to plan for about a
month, but hadn’t been able to get anyone to commit because they didn’t think
4-5 days was enough time for the amount of money they’d pay. After almost making the trip work and then it
not working out again Wednesday night, I spent a good bit of time and energy
moping that I wasn’t going to see elephants or the Northern Region of Ghana. Of
course, I spoke to my neighbor Nick just after 3pm, told him about my
disappointment, and asked whether he thought I’d be okay on my own. “I mean, if
you were talking about out of country, I’d say whoa there, relax. But in Ghana,
I think you’d be just fine by yourself,” he said. Within an hour, I’d gone to
the ATM and packed my bag. By 4.55 I was sitting on a trotro heading to Circle
to get an STC bus at the station. It was scheduled to leave at 5, but I was
banking on Ghanaian time being on my side. After ~45 minute ride, everyone got
off the trotro and I followed a kind woman from the car who showed me where the
bus station was (we all got off early because traffic was basically at a
standstill and we were all headed for the end station). I followed her on a
swift 10 minute walk, anxious that the bus was still there, and avoiding the
multiple grabs guys made at me. [Let’s just reinforce the fact that this isn’t
a big deal to do here. At all.] It just made me question all the more, “Kaia,
what are you doing? You’re ridiculous.” And I suppose I was a bit, but I had to
know that I’d done everything in my power to make it happen. Just the way my
brain works.
I got to the station at
5:55 and the bus to Tamale was still there! They said they were full, but were
looking for a seat, which I didn’t quite understand. The guy told me they had
one and to follow. I got on the bus, he pointed to a stool in the middle of the
aisle, and I sat down. “Is it alright?,” he asked. “Yeah, it’s fine,” I said,
thinking, “It’s going to be a long long ride.” It’s a 12 hour ride from Accra
to Tamale including stops. After about 3 hours I started falling asleep and
swaying from side to side. A guy sitting just behind me basically made me
switch seats with him. He offered, I tried to refuse because he was older and
had actually gotten to the station on time, and he said, “No, sit here.” Well,
alright, if you insist. And I was so grateful. The ride up could have been much
much worse.
We arrived about 6:30am and
by the time I got a taxi to the Metro Mass station, I learned I’d just missed a
bus passing through a town 11 miles south of Mole. I bought a ticket for the
1:30 Mole bus and the taxi driver took me to a place for food, a small stand on
the corner of a filling station. The
lady made fantastic egg and bread and her Milo, fantastic. I think it was the
first time I enjoyed it. Apparently,
I’ve not been adding milk, and you’re supposed to do that.
I walked around Tamale for
a few hours. Saw the Central Mosque, lots of motorbikes and bicycles, entire
cow heads complete with horns sitting on and next to piles of the lower half of
cow legs on tables at a street corner, woven stick baskets/cages filled with
chickens lining one part of a street, multiple herds of goats tethered awaiting
sale, palm fans for starting fires and calabash gourd bowls for sale [both of
which I almost bought, and wish I had].
It didn’t seem as crowded as Accra. It was definitely busy and the
number of people grew immensely in the 2 or 3 hours I walked around, but I
didn’t feel as weird as in Accra. Of course, people looked at me, but there
wasn’t the same calling of “oburoni,” granted maybe it helped that at that
point I didn’t know their word for foreigner, “siliminga,” I think. The guys also didn’t call or grab out near
the same as I’d experienced just walking to the bus station the day
before.
I went back to the Metro
Mass station about 10:30 and waited for 5 hours because the 1:30 bus didn’t
arrive until 3:30 and we left about an hour later. I dozed for about an hour while writing in my
journal, tried to ignore the sun beaming on my seat, and enjoyed people
watching the various vendors (mostly kids) coming around selling their wares:
clothes, flashlights, and FanIce among other things.
We got to Mole about 8
after making several stops along the way. The park was at the end of the
line. I sat next to a German girl on the
bus and made friends with her. She and two other German girls were teaching at
a school in Tamale for the semester and were going to Mole for the weekend. I
hung out with them later at meals, on the tour, and they helped me out later
that night when I realized I’d forgotten some crucial necessities. The last stop before getting to the park was
in a small town where there was a school that offered the option of sleeping on
the school roof under the open sky and stars to travelers. I was so incredibly close to doing it
because it was also free, but figured that doing it by myself probably wasn’t
the smartest idea.
I stayed in the hostel
rooming option which meant four or five bunk beds were in a room with one
bathroom. Of course, I was the only one,
so I got a massive room to myself for 30 cedis. Not bad! Since I had it to
myself, I decided to wash my hair for the first time since getting braids. My
head was itching like crazy! Getting your hair done should never be taken
lightly.
The next morning we met at
7 for the walking tour. On my way to the meeting place I saw a warthog for the
first time! I couldn’t believe it. Maybe 10 yards away, it was just rooting
around in the dirt. The entire purpose of this trip was to see elephants. Of
course, the first thing our guide said, “We haven’t seen any elephants for the
last three days.” Great. Just great. We saw multiple kinds of antelope,
monkeys, birds, and a really rare bird that is apparently the goal of all the
bird watching tours. Granted, I don’t remember the
name of it.
30 November 2013 |Friday
As always, a great deal has
happened over the past two weeks.
21 November was my last
official day teaching at Mawuvio’s. At
the beginning of class, each of my kids stood up and said thank you, wished me
safe travels, and was sure to remind me to remember MOP. It was sweet, and
class went on like normal. As I began to write up the homework, Elena told me
we were closing at 2:15 to do a short program, so I had 10 minutes to put up
homework and some of them write boringly slow. Everyone sat under the canopy like we do for
worship and dancing. I was given a certificate, kente cloth scarf from
Lawrenda’s village, and letters from each of my Class 1 kids. I spoke first to
the teachers, for their patience, explanation, and guidance; class 5 for their
patience on my first day; class 2 for my first 3 weeks; class 1 for working
hard and letting me teach them; the music people for their hard work and incredible
progress.
After everyone was
dismissed, I met with my music kids. Currently, we’re working on counting and
clapping rhythms and then playing them on the instruments. Now, they all stay
together when we play, for the most part anyways. Their playing has changed a
great deal since September. Anyways, I told them I had two weeks left, that I
would be leaving soon. “I’m beginning my exams, so I don’t know when I’m free,
but if there’s an afternoon I can come on a normal music day, do you want to
have music?” They all answered yes. And at some point, Ben looks at me, “Madam,
don’t go.” Or, you know, I could just not go.
