Hello Family and Friends!
I am very sorry for taking so long to blog. The past few weeks have been very full and very fun!
Three weekends ago I went to Hohoe in the Volta Region with three other friends from ISH, Marcela, Elizabeth, and Vanika. The plan was to climb Mt. Afadjato (the “tallest” mountain in Ghana) and check out some of the waterfalls in the area. The weekend turned out to be an amazing and seemingly, pre-destined, turn of events.
We left at 7:30 am to take a tro-tro to a tro-tro station after making plans the night before to leave at 5 am. When we finally made it to the tro-tro station (we walked past it a few times before someone dropped us off at the correct place) and stood inline to get on the correct tro-tro for Hohoe. The tro-tro station is a dirt area on the side of the road surrounded by people and kiosks. It is hard to pick out amongst the traffic, people and other dirt areas for tro-tros. Since then, I have passed by the area multiple times and always see a sign marking that place as a tro-tro station for Hohoe.
Anyway, while in line we met a sharply dressed Ghanain named Ethan. Ethan was headed home for the weekend because he is from Hohoe but works in Accra. After a 4 hour tro-tro ride with a combined bathroom break and tire repair stop, as well as a snack stop, we arrived in Hohoe with no hotel reservation and only an idea of what we wanted to do. Ethan took care of us. He took us to Sicily, his mother’s restaurant. She started it when she was 11 and slowly built up her business from selling on the street into a successful restaurant that will have a club built above the dining area. It is completely family run. Ethan called some people and got us a hotel reservation and the five of us spent the afternoon eating and talking. Well there was more to the afternoon: a torrential storm of rain and thunder, along with some ghost stories, along with games (Ninja!) and a power outage. Ethan left us to clean himself up from traveling and we went for a short walk into the town. We found out later that night that he was next in line to be chief or King but turned it down. Apparently, the chiefs are the people who own the gold mines and other profitable businesses because they need to be taken care of. Ethan turned the position down because you then become tied to the area and the position. I later learned of a man who avoided going home for years so as to avoid being tricked into becoming the next chief.
On our afternoon walk of the day we arrived when the storm had passed, this Ghanaian approached us. He was very friendly and related to us well. I, however, was a little annoyed because I was not in the mood to develop another relationship with someone who just saw that we are Obrunis. Turns out that it was a very meant-to-be/coincidental meeting. The guy was Knox, a friend of a friend kind of deal. Ethan hooked us up with food and lodging, and Knox hooked us up with the outdoor adventures and knowledge of transportation.
We all became very good friends by the end of the weekend; in fact such good friends that it was a sad goodbye. We also successfully climbed Mt. Afadjato (884 meters—an easy climb for me, not for some of the people in our group) and saw the lower Wli falls. Knox, Marcela and I went under the falls! On the tro-tro ride home Sunday night we were exhausted but we could stop saying how beautiful life his, how amazingly coincidental the whole weekend was and how “horrible” it had been. We had to start saying the weekend was “horrible” because it was too good and said to many times how great the weekend was.
Since then I have been finding time to relax and I have not put so much energy into finding a new adventure, but I feel a change of heart and my travel bug has surfaced yet again…plans are still in the making.
But don’t misunderstand me; I have not spent the past few weeks sitting around. Had that been the case I might have blogged. Last weekend, a few of us went back to Cape Coast for a festival. The festival commemorates the passing of a plague because the people appeased to the gods. There were chiefs sitting in regal chariots being carried on the tops of men’s heads. These chiefs had a procession of drummers behind them. A man would carry a drum on his head horizontally so that another man could walk behind and play the drums. The chief would do little dances that all conveyed a message while they sat. There were women carrying small seats for the Chiefs for when everyone arrived at the end of the parade. Supposedly, when you carry one of the seats you become possessed and need the support of people. Some people guided these women and fanned the women or poured drinks down their open mouths.
The festival was crowded and everyone danced. People were dancing traditionally and in a modern style. There were trucks driving around with speakers booming out the back. There were roller bladers jumping over each other, there were people firing off guns. It was a sincerely real festival. There was one older woman who captivated my interest. She was just watching the parade and had a baby strapped to her back. She would mention people to stop bumping her or to not shoot the guns because of the baby. Sometimes she would motion people to not stand in front of her so that she could see. Everytime, she conveyed her message in a style that demonstrated she commanded the respect that she had earned with age. People would mostly acquiesce her requests. However, one man that was standing in front of her laughed, used his phone to take a video of her then us obrunis, and made all of us watching this happen laugh because of the ridiculousness of the whole situation.
We just stayed for the day in Cape Coast. I learned though that it is worth it that when going to a festival I should plan on staying at least one night because there is so much going on.
This past week I attempted to play rugby. That didn’t work out because I was the only girl who showed up to play. Instead, I have become somewhat a part of the volleyball team. I say somewhat, because I don’t want to be committed to a team. I want to travel. I have been occasionally practicing with them at 5:30 am.
I also traveled to the school by myself for the first time. I thought it would be a big ordeal to travel by myself but not at all. The school has students show up inconsistently but I still enjoy going. Cujoe, Kofi, and Solomon have made a home there and now I am learning how to drum, as well as still being delicious banku.
This past weekend, about 10 of us obrunis from ISH were cast in a music video of the one the biggest artists in Ghana. His name is Samini. (They wanted some international students to come to the video, sometimes they do auditions but this was very relaxed. For this video specifically, they just called up some students who would know international students and then sent a car to pick us up. This not very uncommon). It was quite a surprise and still a shock to me that I am in a music video of a famous artist. No worries! There was no dirty dancing. The video was of a chill house party, so we chilled and pretended to party. Then we really partied. We went out with the director of the video, Gyo, and everyone else involved. It was so much fun and the coolest thing about it is the talent of the people we were with. I specifically want to mention Gyo because he uses simple technology compared to music video directors in the US and comes up with a fantastic product!! He does the lighting, the filming, the directing, he does it all. He is the number one director in Ghana. It was so amazing going out, working, and talking with him!
Since then I have spent the weekend reading Into Thin Air. I am loving this book because it is the closest I am to being active outdoors right now, plus it’s a great story!
Love you all very much!!!
P.S. I have my working camera back!!
