Just enjoying the general splendor.: April 2009

I am sitting on my bed in my hostel writing this, and I can’t tell you how good it feels to be home. I’ve just returned from my 13-day adventure through West Africa complete with stops in Burkina Faso, Mali, and Senegal! Not quite the adventure I had planned on (we never made it to Timbuktu or Niger), but it was wonderful nonetheless. I can’t fit nearly enough of our trip into the blog, but I will do my best to highlight the highs and lows.

I set out with four of my favorite ISEP travelers: Emily, Ali, Jayne, and Kendall on a Friday morning. We had originally planned a different route, but halfway through Burkina Faso we decided to change route and head to the Westernmost Point of the African Continent – SENEGAL! It took us five days of bus travel to get there, and not a single hotel along the way. Instead we took advantage of prayer rugs in bus stops and 25 CFA (10cents) teapots of water for teethbrushing. You may be thinking that sounds dirty and sketchy, and you would be thinking right! But it was better than paying money so we embraced it with open arms.

My favorite bus ride was the one that took us from Bobo-Diablaso, Burkina Faso to Bamako, Mali. Half of the bus consisted of the most beautiful, exotically dressed group of people I have ever seen. We’re pretty sure they were from the deserted wastelands of Mali. Every one of them was tall and skinny and robed in beautiful turbans, head coverings, intricate braids, and jewelry. At one of our rest stops Kendall and I followed the group of brightly cloaked men to a chop stand of rice and groundnut paste so that we could be close to them. They smiled and spoke to us in languages we couldn’t understand, and in return we smiled and responded in English. I’m pretty sure they were just as fascinated by us as we were by them, so I didn’t mind so much that we were being total stalkers. All of the children had curly little Mohawks of hair, and the women even let us hold some of them. They were so beautiful and kind I considered ditching our plans and following them to their homes…but we refrained. Saying goodbye to them was a sad moment, but we parted with lots of smiles and hand gestures…I’m hoping God will smile on me, and one day our paths will cross again.

When we finally made it to Senegal we were pleasantly surprised by the weather – it was COLD! And by that I mean it was about 50 degrees. I didn’t even know that was possible in West Africa, but my chattering teeth can attest that it most definitely is. For the second time during my stay in Africa I found a place I loved enough to settle forever – Dakar (the capital city). Sadly I don’t speak French of Wolof so it may never happen for me. Dakar is a city that literally hangs over the edge of the ocean and the center of the city looks out over cliffs falling into the sea. Huge rounded spires of mosques dot the city skyline alongside their modern skyscrapers. (I got to speak Arabic quite a few times as it was a predominately Muslim country and Arabic greetings begin almost every conversation!) At one point while we were wandering around the beautiful city we made friends with a Senegalese man with a Southern accent – it was the most bizarre thing EVER, but he had learned to speak English in Alabama. It was a nice little taste of home.

Our second day in Senegal was spent about 60 Kilometers south of the city at the Reserve de Bandia. It was there that we saw giraffes, zebras, rhinos, crocodiles, antelopes, wildebeests – it was awesome!! I tried to take a baby giraffe with me when I left, but they weren’t having that. That night we slept in another bus station and accepted that we had officially become rubber tramps – for those of you who haven’t read Into the Wild that means we were essentially homeless travelers who make our way from transportation to transportation anyway (or cheapest way) we can. It made the rest of our trip feel a little glamorous, and that thought endured until about the forth day without a shower or toilet.

On our way back to Ghana we stopped for a while in Bamako, Mali. Essentially, what we saw of Mali was a barren wasteland somewhere in between desert and sparse savannah…it was so burning hot there! Bamako (the big city in the West) doesn’t take too kindly to women foreigners so we ran into quite a few issues…but we were able to have a few lovely experiences there. We hit up the beauty section of the market and had our hands and arms painted with traditional henna. All the women in Mali wear it on both hands and feet. The women were obsessed with my friends’ blonde hair, but sadly not mine. I’m hoping my henna lasts a while because it’s so awesome looking, but I think two weeks will be stretching it. After the beauty district we found a Lebanese Patisserie and camped out in the air-conditioned pastry shop for about four hours. It was a much-needed break from our journey, and it was the first time we had a real meal on a plate in over a week – it was HEAVEN!

Forgive me for not giving you a play by play of our time in Burkina Faso. To put it simply it is the armpit of West Africa…at least in my as well as my friends’ opinions. It’s hot, people are rude, there’s a lot of disrespect towards women, and the men are extremely eager to cheat the rich Americans. With any luck at all I will be able to avoid the place for the rest of my life.

After thirteen days we finally made it back to Accra. I never thought I would miss it as much as I did…when we pulled into the city I could have danced I was so happy to be home and in the presence of the wonderful Ghanaians! I feel like I could travel anywhere now…and sleep absolutely anywhere. My first shower back in Ghana (we only had one the entire trip) was one of the most glorious moments of my life. It was definitely one of those once in a lifetime experiences…that I won’t repeat for quite a while. We are finished with classes and only have exams left – three more weeks and then I’m headed home. After our expedition I’m pretty traveled out for a while, and I’m looking forward to chilling here in Accra and soaking in my last days in Africa. I’ve loved my time here, but I’m ready for America and all its comforts….very soon I shall be home!

I’ve gotten a lot of complaints that I don’t write about school here often enough. So I will try to fill you in. I do actually go to class! But only three days a week. I would say overall classes here are a bit of a disappointment. I don’t want to generalize all of Africa, but the education system here is very behind America. Quite a few of my classes consist of the professor reading his/her notes verbatim and having the class copy them down…which is pretty exhausting and not very conducive to critical thinking. We have assigned readings (photocopied books), which is where I feel I’m actually learning something. I have one more week of classes, revision week, and then our exams are spread out over three weeks. Our entire grade for the course is based on our final exam…also not the best system I’ve ever seen. That’s Ghana’s premier university for you!

This past weekend I traveled to the Volta region (mountains in the South Eastern part of Ghana). It was absolutely beautiful and hands down my favorite region in Ghana. It is soooo very green and colorful. Our first day there we climbed Mount Afadjato, which is the highest freestanding mountain in Ghana. I would like to say that it was beautiful at the top, seeing villages and Togo in the distance, but by the time I made it there I was so tired I didn’t care. There are definitely many moments where if I had fallen (which was pretty likely for me) I would have died. But overall I’m really glad I did it.

We also visited Wli falls – which was breathtaking and had me consider moving to that part of Ghana permanently. Thankfully that hike was relatively flat and easy. Our lodge for the weekend was heavenly and run by a friendly German couple. The views from out huts were breathtaking and complete with mountains and waterfalls in the distance. After my first day of climbing I wasn’t down for another mountain so I just relaxed at the lodge and took in the beauty surrounding it.

As we were traveling back to Accra we saw several processions through the streets of the villages we were driving through. Women and men singing, drumming, and marching with flowers and big braided palms fronds in their hands. It was Palm Sunday!! I wish I had taken a picture, because it was SOO Ghanaian. I was very tempted to get out of the trtro and join the parade – I’m sure they would have welcomed me with smiles and laughs.