GUESTS IN TAMALE


One additional item on my long list of things that were to be done before leaving Tamale was hosting Adwoa, Idrissa and Kary for the weekend. They were initially going to visit the north the week before I left, but the last minute announcement of a Sean Paul concert in Accra changed their plans. Instead, they would come on that last weekend and we would all leave together for Accra.

That Friday, after my last day at Radio Justice, I went into town to do some grocery shopping. I picked up some juice, some snacks and breakfast materials for my guests. I was also busy making arrangements for transportation out to Mole National Park, which is a wildlife reserve about four hours away from Tamale.

I then went home, took some fufu and paw-paw (papaya) and fell asleep on the couch waiting for my guests to get to Tamale. Somewhere around 3am, I got a call from them and I instructed the taxi driver to a major intersection in my area where I went out to meet them.

It was great to seem them all again. After some time, they were settled in and we went to sleep for the next day.

The next morning, we woke up around 9am. I made a breakfast of oats, paw-paw, tea, bread and milo. After eating and boiling water for each of their showers, we were picked up by the driver for Radio Justice who was using a friend’s taxi to bring us to Mole.

Our plan was to stop at the STC station to get our tickets to Accra, then to hit the road. That ended up going differently than planned. All the tickets up until the next Friday were sold out…we didn’t factor in the additional Christmas traffic on the already iffy government run bus service. Followed by Mohamed (a fifteen year old who I respect for his hustle, though I am not willing to be a willing sucker to his unofficial tour guide movements), we maneuvered through the congested tro-tro yard and then through the shaded and dingy corridors of the outdoor market in search of transport to Accra. Our best option was to come back the next day to purchase an overnight bus ticket from one of the alternative bus companies. The frequency of car accidents and their looming threat of armed robbers on the roads ruled out that option. Mohamed, apparently, had a friend named Fred who works for an orphanage with a van that we could hire to Accra. At that point, we considered his hook up to be an option.

Still uncertain of our method of return to Accra, we decided to head to Mole and work on that issue when we got back home. The ride to Mole was amusing. The taxi was not in the best shape – we lost the sign on the roof about twenty minutes into the ride, and I eventually found the handle for Idrissa’s window beside my seat. Along the roadside we passed many bush fires. Though I have heard a few reasons why people light the bush on fire, I really don’t get it. We actually came to one heavy blaze that brought visibility down to zero on the road. As we passed through the cloud of smoke, we saw a large gas tanker parked on the roadside only a hundred metres from the fire. Looking back, as I was astonished at the sight and the dangers of the situation, I could see the large painted words, “highly flammable” on the back of the tanker that was fading from out sight in the smoke.

We drove along the highway making steady progress until we had to take a right turn onto a dirt road. That is where the journey really began. For the next three hours, the car swerved and bumped and sped through the dust. About forty-five minutes down that dirt road we realized that we were becoming covered with dust in the small vehicle without air-conditioning. By the time we reached mole, we were covered in dust, which made the hair of the ladies that I was traveling with look like it had been dyed with reddish streaks.

The timing of our arrival at Mole was ideal as the guides were just getting ready to take groups out on a walking safari. I began to inquire about what the guides’ gun was needed for. He mentioned that there were a few lions, some hyenas and some hunting dogs in the park. He also noted that any animal can be aggressive towards people (from small crocodiles and antelopes, to baboons and elephants). That conversation was missed by most of the group, but was overheard by Adwoa. At that point, she didn’t want to go and was scared. A couple of times along the beginning of our descent down into the nearby valley, she jumped at the snap of sticks.

However, she soon realized that we were not going to see more that a couple of monkeys, some antelopes, two tiny crocodiles, and a couple of warthogs. While not seeing any elephants was disappointing, the quiet of the place – especially when we all stop walking and stand still – was astonishing. It was deeply refreshing to the core of my being, and made me aware of how precious such silence is. I don’t know why it was so quiet there, and I do not remember another similar instance, but when we stopped, there was the feeling of complete stillness.

Without incident, we walked through the valley full of elephant footprints and elephant crap, and climbed back to the Mole motel restaurant. As the sun set over the valley, and night crept over us, we sat and waited for our food. Though it took a long time, and almost spawned an incident when we saw people that came long after us eating long before us, the food was good. Well the garlic butter fish that Kary, Idrissa and I ordered was delicious…Adwoa’s hamburger…not so much.

The road back was as long as the road there (obviously), but the sight of stars captivated my attention for much of the ride. The trip began with Adwoa’s rendition of her favourite Whitney Houston tracks (she is adamant that she can sing…in the shower…and if she had some lessons), but after that initial burst of energy, we each spent the rest of the ride drifting in and out of sleep.

Touching down in Tamale was a relief, and we settled in again with mandatory showers to get the dust off of us. I could actually feel dust on my gums.

The next morning, I put together breakfast again with some help from Teresa who was back from school for the holidays. We all were busy getting ready for church, which we reached quite late. Though we weren’t on time, we did get there – by God’s grace – in time. The service was focused on thanksgiving, and was beautiful. A number of stories from the pastor about car accidents was also kind of eerie given the travels behind us and ahead of us. We all enjoyed the word and the praise and worship. While the ladies were being treated as first-time visitors, I made my rounds saying ‘farewell’ to the friends I had made in the church (including the pastor).

Our plan was to take a taxi out to Paga where we would visit a crocodile reserve. However, that did not work out. What I thought was a hour and a half drive was said to be, by the driver, six hours. I don’t know if that was one way or if it was two ways, but I do know that he said the place is near Togo. We decided to cut that plan out, and pick up some lunch and head home instead. It turned out that the taxi driver who was going to bring us to Paga was willing to bring us to Accra. That worked out the issue over a ride, which was a relief.

Back at the house, we ate our orders of a burger and fries each (though Idrissa had the chicken burger). After eating, we were going to go to town, but we decided rest instead. The afternoon nap was short, but sweet.

That evening, we headed to the internet café, and then when to a place called Titi’s Inn where I was having a small going-away get-together. It was nice, as a good amount of people passed through. I ordered some kebobs, but they ran out after ordering five. I also had arranged drink coupons to give my guests so that they could get a soda. Some how they were ending up with malts and alcohol from those coupons. Three of us ordered pizza with pineapple, but half an hour later they said that they had sent someone to town to get a pineapple. That meant that they still had to come back with it, cut it up and add it to our pizza’s…but we were hungry. I opted for the vegetarian pizza with corn on it that they made from a request that said “vegetarian pizza with NO corn”. It wasn’t bad and I thought it to be amusing that I am coming to like pizza with corn on it. Oh, among highlights was smoking Adwoa on the ping pong table until she hit the ball toward a gutter and we lost the ball.

After a couple of hours, we headed to the road to catch a taxi home. Even though we had a full car (plus 1), we had great difficulty finding a car to bring us home. Eventually, this driver who always calls me “PPAG” (after the main junction that I lived by) promised to return in ten minutes to bring us home. We waited, and he came.

The next morning, we rose up around 5am to get ready for our trip to Accra. After 630 and no sign of our car, I called to find out. The driver’s phone was off though. When I reached my friend that had recommended the driver, she told me that the guy had spoiled his car the night before, but he couldn’t reach me. She said she had wanted to call me, but she had no units. So there we were, all packed, ready to go – with no ride. I spoke with Mr. Fresh about the situation, and after that one driver had sent another taxi to come to our house (which they actually found by asking, ‘Where does the Silminga live?’), we decided to go with Mr. Fresh’s friend…in a brand new Nissan SUV.

Having so much luggage, and with the roads being so dangerous, it really was the best option. We had a professional driver, we would travel during the day, the chances of that vehicle breaking down were small, while the taxies always posed that threat. So, we headed to Accra in style.

The ride was actually enjoyable, rather than exhausting. We talked about all kinds of things, enjoyed using the CD player, slept, read, and just chilled. The driver, near the end of the trip, needed to be warned a number of times to take it easy after pulling what was like a movie stunt passing a truck and having to squeeze between another truck across the road that had broken down. We must have seen at least ten accidents along the way, and God has too much for each of us to do to put ourselves at risk.

When we got to Accra, we went from house to house dropping each of us home. The last stop was for me at the Ackerson house.

It was Monday night at around 11pm. Most of the family was still in Takaraodi, so I went with Emmanuel and one of the neighbours to get a burger and fries.

Back at the house, I settled in watching Monday Night Football (Colts vs The Bengals).

It felt good to be ‘home’.