COUNTRY: Ghana
PROGRAM: GapBreak
PROJECT: Teaching & Orphanage work
WRITTEN BY: Ghana girls 2012
Ghana girls here, writing our final blog together, before we go our separate ways all too soon.
We've had a roller coaster journey over the past few weeks, starting with a tearful goodbye in Swedru. The sight of our empty bedrooms made it seem as though we'd never lived there before, but the memories, photos and friendships made during our time in Ghana prove otherwise.
Our two week travel plans went up in smoke upon discovering that the Queen Volta cruise was (in typical Ghanaian style) out of order. So we made a hasty decision to board a trotro and travel to the seat of the Ashanti kingdom, Kumasi. This gave us five long hours to reflect on the lives we left behind.
Upon arriving in Kumasi, the biggest city we'd stayed in thus far, we were amazed at the simple things of urbanized life that we'd forgotten, such as street signs and white bedsheets. We spent the following morning in the largest open-air market in West Africa, getting lost in the winding labyrinth where one could find anything and everything from dried chameleons to acrylic hair extensions.
The next day we ventured out to Adanwomase, one of the kente-cloth weaving villages of the Ashanti region. Here we tried our hand at the ancient art, were gobsmacked by the professional weavers dexterity and sampled raw cocoa. We came upon the tree after which Adanwomase was named, planted atop a live virgin hundreds of years ago (presumably, she is now dead).
Techiman came next, where we zipped around for a good hour trying to find accommodation in taxis that appeared far too small for five adults. At Boabeng-Fiema Monkey Sanctuary we got caught up in a tribal war between two monkey gangs.
We stood in awe as they swung through the trees and hissed at each other on the path, secretly glad we got those rabies shots. We visited the monkey cemetery where the Colobus and Mona monkeys are buried beside a fetish priest who, according to his grave stone, lived to be 120 (this is a common, dubious claim in Ghana).
We then headed north on a route that the guide book told us to forget about as it was impossible to get public transport. We got a bus within ten minutes. Unfortunately our luck ended here. We endured a torturous journey, squeezed between African booties and Canadian creepers. Bouncing down the worst dirt road yet, the skin beneath our eyes vibrated and the water bags in our laps burst...but mole was worth it. However our luck did not change straight away as we suffered the first of what would be later referred to as the 'baboon muggings'.
Bess's bread was snatched out of her hands from what she thought was Tara but was in fact a big mama of a baboon. Tara herself was the next victim, attacked as she strolled leisurely around the breakfast table. And as we know, bad things happen in threes and Annie's big bag of oats was the third target. However, despite these unfortunate occurrences, our memories of mole are very fond.
We spent an adventurous night sleeping under the African skies in our very own tree hide. Don't worry parents, we had a khaki-clad man with a gun to keep us safe from the creatures of the night. We awoke with the sun and the sound of the jungle coming alive. On our walk back to the motel, we were fortunate to stumble upon five elephants bathing in the waterhole, to Sophie's utmost joy. We watched mesmerized until our guide had to drag us away.
This ignited the adventurous flame within us all as we also spent the next night sleeping under a blanket of stars. This was in the quaint, rural, Muslim village of Larabanga. Despite the guidebooks negative review we found Larabanga to be one of the highlights of our journey. We realised the village was like nothing we'd ever experienced before as we explored it on our borrowed villager bikes.
We visited the oldest mosque in Ghana with a lovely guide that we all wouldn't have minded packing in our suit cases and taking home. As the sun set and the stifling heat of the day cooled we settled ourselves down for the night on top of the Salia brothers mud-hut roof. However, at 1am, we were rudely awoken by lightening strikes and the wind whipping into a sandstorm.
We became a flurry of activity as we threw mattresses, mosquito nets and ourselves off the rood, dashing inside seconds before the rain came pelting down. We woke again three hours later, at the ungodly hour of 4am, to catch the only bus out of Larabanga. The next nine hours were spent bumping along dirt roads, during which we experienced the weirdest marriage proposal yet. A one-eared man quite seriously asked for Sarah's hand, in front of both his wife and his children. 'I want two or four wives' said he.
Our final few days together were spent relaxing beside the serene Lake Bosumtwi which lies in an ancient meteorite crater and is the sacred gate through which local souls pass on to the after life. The serenity was soon lost as we engaged in a friendly leadership building activity...WAR!
After having warned the staff that we were not in fact being murdered, we proceeded to chase each other around the lawns, stumbling on branches in the dark, wresting and tackling each other to the ground like violent five year olds. The game ended prematurely, despite how much fun we were having, as Margie rested her head on a nest of aggressive fire ants. After washing off the sweat, dirt and blood we spent the evening having a nice night time swim under the dazzling stars.
So here we are, back at Felcare Hostel, where we started three short months ago. Not a lot has changed here, however we can't say the same for ourselves. We've come a long way, growing not only as individuals but as a whole group. And what an amazing experience we've had, an experience that will be with us forever.
So over and out from the Ghana Girls for the final time. But before we leave you, we would like to give a huge thank you to everyone that has enabled us to take this journey.
xoxo Ghana Girls.
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