a baby goat ate my banana peel

day 29.

School was supposed to start last week. It didn't. I went to two classes, one in which nobody showed up except me and one where hundreds of people showed up and they had us wait for hours to finally tell us to go home and come back the next day. Not wanting to stick around for more of this, we decided to use last week as an excuse to travel. Carmen had rehearsals and Sauce had malaria so it was just me, Travis, and Matt. We left on Wednesday.

Wednesday. Destination: Ada Foah, the small village where the Volta River meets the Atlantic Ocean. We arrived around dinner time, options were sparse. The boys ate fufu, I ate rice. We met some funny people and had long conversations about "The Revolution". Stimulating. When Travis asked Nii Ana, "What is the one thing that you think Ghana needs to change to progress as a country?" he replied, "We need to stop criticizing! We are all one." (He also was telling us how 9/11 was an inside job, as if we didn't already know...Mom you would have liked him).

Thursday. Slept in until 8:30. Ate bread with ground nut paste. Took a two-hour walk along the dirtiest beach I've ever seen (covered in plastic bags, bottles, wrappers, nets, empty water sachets, dead fish, and shit, human shit). Despite the filth, the waves were incredible as we walked in the hot sun and watched the fishing boats. When we reached the point where the Volta meets the ocean we sat and watched. The two bodies of water are in constant contact but retain very individual natures. Magnificent. We watched the colorful fishing boats come in with fisherman arguing loudly and birds in their wake.

Our next destination was Hohoe. At the tro-tro station after much commotion, we boarded a tro-tro that we thought was on its way to Ho, the capital of the Volta Region. A few hours into the journey we realized that we were headed to Aflao instead. Aflao is essentially on the Ghana/Togo border and really far out of our way. At Aflao station we bought fresh bananas and boarded yet another tro-tro to Ho. After many hours and a third tro-tro ride, we made it to Hohoe. Long day.

Friday. Destination: Mount Afadjato and Wli Falls (the highest mountain and waterfalls in West Africa). Alarm went off at 5:15, we snoozed it until 6:15, though in Ghana everyone is up by then and it is often hard to sleep through the noise from outside. We waited at the tro-tro station for a while waiting for a taxi accompanied by a one-legged chicken. Around 9:30 (after taking a taxi meant for five people but filled with eight) we were at the base of the mountain At 885 meters, it is a small mountain by California standards but the hike was tough, 30-45 degree incline the whole time. At the top, we could see all of the Volta Region. Spectacular (worth the sweat).

We walked for an hour with some village children carrying corn flour on their heads to the next village to catch a taxi. Our driver emerged from the forest wearing a uniform and carrying a big gun. While we were waiting for him to change, a baby goat ate the banana peel off of my banana. To get to Wli Falls we walked for a half hour with a guide. Within 100 meters of the Falls we could feel the mist. We put on our bathing suits and went for it. The falls were amazing. We swam under them and fought our way towards them against the 30-40 mile per hour winds they were generating. It was definitely one of the most awesome natural experiences I have ever had. Again we spent the night in Hohoe. Tired.

Saturday: Destination: Legon. After only three days of traveling we were beat. It takes a lot of energy to get places here and often communication and interactions are not easy. At the tro-tro station we were caught in the most intense battle over us by two tro-tro drivers and the people who they pay to help get passengers (yelling on both sides, and grabbing us to come with them to their tro-tro). After about ten minutes, we decided on one of them. I think we mad the wrong choice because our driver was an idiot. After bribing three police officers, passing one accident and five funerals, and getting stopped by immigration police (who wanted our passports and visas which we didn't have on us) we made it back to campus.

I'm realizing that as amazing as my experience has been so far, it is not easy to be here. Everyday I am challenged in some way. I can feel that I am learning more that I am able to process. A few months before I left, I met a homeless man on my stoop in Berkeley. He approached my singing an African song. I stopped him to ask where he was from. Rwanda. I told him that I was going to Ghana for school. He sat down on the step next to me and told me slowly, "You will pass a life test". I can still hear his voice and see his face. Now I know what he meant.