Saturday, August 23, 2008
From elusive hippos to not so elusive monkeys, and from Atlantic breakers to beautiful waterfalls, Ghana beyond Tumu did not disappoint. Our friends Gill and Dave came out to stay with us for a month and they joined us on, what they summed up as, a “superb experience”.
Since our arrival in the capital city of Accra and our initial journey up country to Tumu, we haven’t really ventured far from Tumu in the past 2 years; so this round trip of approximately 2000km was a new experience for us all.
After allowing Dave & Gill a couple of days to acclimatise to life in Tumu - which included another lovely visit to Challu where Mohammed and the school children warmly greeted ‘Mr and Mrs David’ and a tour of the Chief’s Palace in Tumu, (a first for us as well,) courtesy of Hassan the Head teacher at Egala – we awaited the arrival of our transport. To cut a long story short, we’d made an arrangement for a vehicle from Tamale, owned by Mohammed to arrive in Tumu on the day before we were to set off at 12.00noon. Other than a lot of rather confusing phone calls (I’ll save those stories for a rainy day) and a down payment for ‘fuel’ to get him to Tumu. Which had been dropped off at Mohammed’s office by another volunteer, no documentation of the kind required in the western world was completed. So we were delighted (and a little relieved) when at 12.15pm a nice big four-wheel drive rolled up, and out bounced Mohammed to warm hand-shakes all round. It summed up the way life is here and the way the trip was to go – ‘it’ll be fine’.
We planned an anti-clockwise tour of Ghana; down the west side to the coast and back up the east side, working our way back to Tumu, taking in so many good sights to see and places to visit. The beauty of having our own vehicle was that we could also make impromptu stops along the way and it was many of these that gave us a real flavour of Ghana.
The wildlife in Ghana is unpredictable. The hippos at the Weichau Hippopotamus Sanctuary must have been very shy and with the swollen rivers, it is the rainy season, they didn’t want to raise their cute little ears for us. The monkeys, on the other hand, were more amenable, we saw Mona monkeys on two separate occasions, and black and white colobus monkeys. These have lovely long white furry tails that hang down between the branches looking like Christmas decorations. We saw crocodiles near Kakum National Park and Dave watched a man actually feeding a green mamba snake to one! The birdlife is abundant (when you know where to look) and we spent many hours sitting and watching a great variety, such as weavers, hornbills and wydahs.
What Ghana perhaps lacks in wildlife however, it more than makes up for in its people and its culture. One of the more bizarre places we came across – in one of our impromptu stops – was the Pentecostal Fire Furniture makers. This was a small hut on roadside that eagle eyed Di spotted on the drive from Butre Beach to Cape Coast. They make customised coffins on request. They were just completing a beautifully crafted 4 wheel drive Tayota (sic), complete with working side and headlights (modified head torches), opening doors and bonnet, and a siren to boot! The man took great delight in showing us his portfolio, with full sized coffins shaped and decorated of aeroplanes, birds and even mobile phones. He also showed us photos of actual funeral processions where his fire furniture had been the talk of the town. I think for people whom the end wasn’t to be too sad an occasion, their families knew how to give a good send off.
Another roadside stop gave us a tour of a Palm Oil ‘factory’. It looked more like something out of Dante’s Inferno. It gave us a real insight into the type of back breaking and unhygienic work that many people are forced into to earn a few cedis – few being the operative word. Likewise the Kente cloth weavers, (young men and women) who spend hours shuttling coloured thread to make thin strips of intricately patterned Kente Cloth, could be found along the roadside in many areas in the south east.
Of the ‘organised’ visits, by far the most impressive were the castles of Elmina and Cape Coast. Both are World Heritage sites, and professional tour guides portrayed a fascinating picture of the history along the old Gold Coast, a large proportion of which was centred on the slave trade. Also of great interest were our trips to the Gold Mines at Obuasi and the Akasombo Dam. We descended several hundred feet, laden with the statutory mining attire at the AngloGhana gold mine, via the modern wide shafts that are actually used as roads. After the tour through the mine tunnels we ascended in the more traditional compact lifts that the miners actually use – minus any gold though! At Akasombo, we were given a tour of the dam by the stereotypical Ghanaian who wanted to fight (verbally) anyone who remotely implied that the water and electric problem in Ghana was his fault, (he’ll make a truly good politician one day). The dam is the only Hydro-Electric one in Ghana and forms Lake Volta, the largest man made lake in the world. Unfortunately although it provides electricity for Ghana, Burkina Faso, Togo and the Ivory Coast, it still doesn’t provide enough, and power outages are still the norm. The frustration comes from the fact that they get so much rain, and so many areas are flooded, yet they still don’t have enough in the dam! They are still pursuing ways of ‘harvesting’ all this extra water.
The natural sites and general scenery that we took in throughout our travels was in stark contrast to the flat scrub and bush land of the Northern regions. We certainly saw the rain forest of Kakum from an unique vantage point as we walked, (rather slowly and very carefully!) across the 350 meters long, 40 meter high of wood and rope suspension walk way thrown across the tops of the rainforest trees. At Lake Bosumtwi we spent three nights on the shores of the largest water filled crater in the world (and it’s bilharzias free so we could have a swim). Just to add to the atmosphere the Rainbow Garden Lodges were run by Rastafarians, and it was a really ‘special place mon’. There was a really humbling moment as we were leaving the area and passing through a local village, when we saw, even by Ghanaian standards, what was a ramshackle school. The Whitehill motto ‘have pencils/pens will travel’ came into use as we stopped and passed out a job lot to the teacher in charge. The reaction of the children was incredible, and as Di was mobbed we proceeded to get a few snaps of the school, so once again people at home will be able to get a feel of what the pupils and teachers here are up against.
The coast was wonderful; Atlantic breakers crashing continually onto a golden sandy beach and our accommodation, best described as a beach huts, were no more than 50 yards from the sea. It was like something off a desert island, a long stretch of empty beach, bordered by endless palm trees. The only drawback was that as the waves are so powerful we were limited to paddling. But that was ‘fineo’.
Our return journey up the east of the Volta, revealed the lush, hilly (mountainous?) side of Ghana, and we spent 3 nights in a setting which looked toward the spectacular Wli Falls – the highest waterfalls in Ghana. Here we also had the opportunity to do some walking (small, small), visiting Wli and Tagbo Falls.
Our accommodation throughout the trip was varied and never lacked character. It ranged from exotic beach huts to the Rainbow Village chalets of the Rastas, and from the Hotel Silence (which was anything but after 4.00am!) in Obuasi town centre to separate rooms (cells as they called them) at the Kristo Buasi Monastery, (yes, we spent an evening in the company of Father Ambrose and his brothers!)
It’s still not quite the end, however. I’m back in GES for just under two weeks, and Di is still ‘on call’ for TUTCO as the untrained teachers are being trained and prospective students are being interviewed. In addition I’ve got my sitting (leaving function) on the day before we leave Tumu, so plenty of things still going on, and of course we still have to shut up the house and say our goodbyes. These final days will form the content of our last ever newsletter from Ghana which we will write and send from Accra just before we leave.
So we hope that this small blog in the ocean of blogs on the web has given you some insight into life in Ghana, and in particular the lives of volunteers in Tumu. Thanks for sticking with us! If you would like to know more of our Lives in Ghana or about volunteering please don’t hesitate to get in touch.
Since our arrival in the capital city of Accra and our initial journey up country to Tumu, we haven’t really ventured far from Tumu in the past 2 years; so this round trip of approximately 2000km was a new experience for us all.
After allowing Dave & Gill a couple of days to acclimatise to life in Tumu - which included another lovely visit to Challu where Mohammed and the school children warmly greeted ‘Mr and Mrs David’ and a tour of the Chief’s Palace in Tumu, (a first for us as well,) courtesy of Hassan the Head teacher at Egala – we awaited the arrival of our transport. To cut a long story short, we’d made an arrangement for a vehicle from Tamale, owned by Mohammed to arrive in Tumu on the day before we were to set off at 12.00noon. Other than a lot of rather confusing phone calls (I’ll save those stories for a rainy day) and a down payment for ‘fuel’ to get him to Tumu. Which had been dropped off at Mohammed’s office by another volunteer, no documentation of the kind required in the western world was completed. So we were delighted (and a little relieved) when at 12.15pm a nice big four-wheel drive rolled up, and out bounced Mohammed to warm hand-shakes all round. It summed up the way life is here and the way the trip was to go – ‘it’ll be fine’.
We planned an anti-clockwise tour of Ghana; down the west side to the coast and back up the east side, working our way back to Tumu, taking in so many good sights to see and places to visit. The beauty of having our own vehicle was that we could also make impromptu stops along the way and it was many of these that gave us a real flavour of Ghana.
The wildlife in Ghana is unpredictable. The hippos at the Weichau Hippopotamus Sanctuary must have been very shy and with the swollen rivers, it is the rainy season, they didn’t want to raise their cute little ears for us. The monkeys, on the other hand, were more amenable, we saw Mona monkeys on two separate occasions, and black and white colobus monkeys. These have lovely long white furry tails that hang down between the branches looking like Christmas decorations. We saw crocodiles near Kakum National Park and Dave watched a man actually feeding a green mamba snake to one! The birdlife is abundant (when you know where to look) and we spent many hours sitting and watching a great variety, such as weavers, hornbills and wydahs.
What Ghana perhaps lacks in wildlife however, it more than makes up for in its people and its culture. One of the more bizarre places we came across – in one of our impromptu stops – was the Pentecostal Fire Furniture makers. This was a small hut on roadside that eagle eyed Di spotted on the drive from Butre Beach to Cape Coast. They make customised coffins on request. They were just completing a beautifully crafted 4 wheel drive Tayota (sic), complete with working side and headlights (modified head torches), opening doors and bonnet, and a siren to boot! The man took great delight in showing us his portfolio, with full sized coffins shaped and decorated of aeroplanes, birds and even mobile phones. He also showed us photos of actual funeral processions where his fire furniture had been the talk of the town. I think for people whom the end wasn’t to be too sad an occasion, their families knew how to give a good send off.
Another roadside stop gave us a tour of a Palm Oil ‘factory’. It looked more like something out of Dante’s Inferno. It gave us a real insight into the type of back breaking and unhygienic work that many people are forced into to earn a few cedis – few being the operative word. Likewise the Kente cloth weavers, (young men and women) who spend hours shuttling coloured thread to make thin strips of intricately patterned Kente Cloth, could be found along the roadside in many areas in the south east.
Of the ‘organised’ visits, by far the most impressive were the castles of Elmina and Cape Coast. Both are World Heritage sites, and professional tour guides portrayed a fascinating picture of the history along the old Gold Coast, a large proportion of which was centred on the slave trade. Also of great interest were our trips to the Gold Mines at Obuasi and the Akasombo Dam. We descended several hundred feet, laden with the statutory mining attire at the AngloGhana gold mine, via the modern wide shafts that are actually used as roads. After the tour through the mine tunnels we ascended in the more traditional compact lifts that the miners actually use – minus any gold though! At Akasombo, we were given a tour of the dam by the stereotypical Ghanaian who wanted to fight (verbally) anyone who remotely implied that the water and electric problem in Ghana was his fault, (he’ll make a truly good politician one day). The dam is the only Hydro-Electric one in Ghana and forms Lake Volta, the largest man made lake in the world. Unfortunately although it provides electricity for Ghana, Burkina Faso, Togo and the Ivory Coast, it still doesn’t provide enough, and power outages are still the norm. The frustration comes from the fact that they get so much rain, and so many areas are flooded, yet they still don’t have enough in the dam! They are still pursuing ways of ‘harvesting’ all this extra water.
The natural sites and general scenery that we took in throughout our travels was in stark contrast to the flat scrub and bush land of the Northern regions. We certainly saw the rain forest of Kakum from an unique vantage point as we walked, (rather slowly and very carefully!) across the 350 meters long, 40 meter high of wood and rope suspension walk way thrown across the tops of the rainforest trees. At Lake Bosumtwi we spent three nights on the shores of the largest water filled crater in the world (and it’s bilharzias free so we could have a swim). Just to add to the atmosphere the Rainbow Garden Lodges were run by Rastafarians, and it was a really ‘special place mon’. There was a really humbling moment as we were leaving the area and passing through a local village, when we saw, even by Ghanaian standards, what was a ramshackle school. The Whitehill motto ‘have pencils/pens will travel’ came into use as we stopped and passed out a job lot to the teacher in charge. The reaction of the children was incredible, and as Di was mobbed we proceeded to get a few snaps of the school, so once again people at home will be able to get a feel of what the pupils and teachers here are up against.
The coast was wonderful; Atlantic breakers crashing continually onto a golden sandy beach and our accommodation, best described as a beach huts, were no more than 50 yards from the sea. It was like something off a desert island, a long stretch of empty beach, bordered by endless palm trees. The only drawback was that as the waves are so powerful we were limited to paddling. But that was ‘fineo’.
Our return journey up the east of the Volta, revealed the lush, hilly (mountainous?) side of Ghana, and we spent 3 nights in a setting which looked toward the spectacular Wli Falls – the highest waterfalls in Ghana. Here we also had the opportunity to do some walking (small, small), visiting Wli and Tagbo Falls.
Our accommodation throughout the trip was varied and never lacked character. It ranged from exotic beach huts to the Rainbow Village chalets of the Rastas, and from the Hotel Silence (which was anything but after 4.00am!) in Obuasi town centre to separate rooms (cells as they called them) at the Kristo Buasi Monastery, (yes, we spent an evening in the company of Father Ambrose and his brothers!)
It’s still not quite the end, however. I’m back in GES for just under two weeks, and Di is still ‘on call’ for TUTCO as the untrained teachers are being trained and prospective students are being interviewed. In addition I’ve got my sitting (leaving function) on the day before we leave Tumu, so plenty of things still going on, and of course we still have to shut up the house and say our goodbyes. These final days will form the content of our last ever newsletter from Ghana which we will write and send from Accra just before we leave.
So we hope that this small blog in the ocean of blogs on the web has given you some insight into life in Ghana, and in particular the lives of volunteers in Tumu. Thanks for sticking with us! If you would like to know more of our Lives in Ghana or about volunteering please don’t hesitate to get in touch.
Labels: A tour of Ghana at last
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
A special day at Challu
28th May was a special day and another example of the wonderful experiences we’ve had during our time in Ghana. Following our efforts back in March with a Primary 5 class, were they replied to letters received from the children of St. Elizabeth’s School, in Litherland, we were invited back to Challu School by the Head Teacher Mohammed, to be given a ‘cultural experience’ as way of a thank you.
We made the 30km moto journey on Wednesday morning, arriving in true Ghanaian style – around 30 minutes late! We arrived to find the whole school was in position to greet us and watch us watching the events that were to follow, and also to enjoy the events themselves. After a quick change into our Ghanaian clothes, we greeted members of the PTA and different teachers, were given a bottle of coke (warm of course as there is no electricity in Challu, and so no fridges), then shown to our seats at the head (only) table sited in the natural arena formed by the shade provided by the many Nim trees.
Once seated, the show began. We were treated to drumming, dancing, drama, and more drumming and dancing, all performed by the pupils of Challu accompanied by ladies and gentlemen of the community, who had not gone to their farms for the day as it was a special celebration. We’ve seen dances on many occasions, but we never cease to tire of, or be amazed by, the energy, commitment and enthusiasm shown by the participants. What’s more the dancers and all the people watching absolutely love it. The dance only finishes when everyone is exhausted, which can be as long as 20 – 30 minutes. We’re still looking for someone who can explain the significance of the dances, that’s something that even appears to have escaped the elders. When we discretely enquired of the elders through Mohammed as to the origin of the first dance, he informed us that the elders must consult each other on that one. After around five minutes they concluded that there was no conclusion! Needless to say we didn’t enquire about subsequent dances. All the dances performed do have steps and body movements that need to be followed by all those taking part. One of the very old elders made sure that all the pupils were doing it right, by joining in for most of the dancers. He must have been 80 if he was a day, with a lovely smile, a single large brown tooth in his head, a small white goatee beard, very raggedy cream coloured trousers, well when first made they would have been that colour, with two enormous holes in the posterior!!! Di’s insistent that he did have a pair of brown undies on, but I’m not so sure his modesty was covered. However he certainly did keep the dancers in check and played a small whistle for them to keep time to when he wasn’t dancing himself.
Slotted in between the drumming and dancing was a drama. We had also witnessed similar dramas at events like Independence Day, when everyone laughs heartily at the actions, and we hadn’t got a clue what was going on. Not so this time we followed every action The underlying message to the drama was that it pays to persevere with education (although Mohammed announced to the students that the moral was that they should always obey and respect their elders! I don’t think Chinese propaganda could be that subtle). The actors were stars. Di and I talked about the fact that there is a massive bank of untapped talent in villages all over Ghana, and but sadly most of these children will never move far from their village in their lifetime.
When eventually all the drumming, dancing and acting came to an end, Mohammed addressed the gathering and talked of our friendship and bond with the school. He then, on behalf of the school and the community, presented us with gifts. We both received smocks, Diane’s accompanied with a pair of knickerbockers (I think they used to be called passion killers) and mine with a hat (that resembles something out of Thunderbirds). We duly replaced our existing Ghanaian attire with the new smocks, and the crowd was delighted. Please note, I had to wear my hat but Diane somehow avoided putting her passion killers on!
After Alan ‘Tracey’ responded with a short speech of thanks we were escorted back to Mohammed’s office for some lunch. They did us proud. The table was laid as if it was a romantic dinner for two (plates, mugs, knives, forks and even a bunch of ornamental flowers).Fortunately they quickly provided an extra place for Mohammed and we all enjoyed a plate of pasta with fish stew – somehow they’d ensured Diane had avoided the anticipated and dreaded TZ (commonly referred to by Diane as ‘wallpaper paste’).
We passed the rest of the afternoon sitting under some trees by the teacher’s quarters chatting to Mohammed and his assistant and our friend JJ, whilst some teachers slept and others shelled ground nuts. The set up is actually quite good for the teachers at Challu. They have their own accommodation and therefore some privacy, although they still don’t have running water, toilet facilities or electricity. (Mind you neither does the whole of Challu.)
We were awaiting the finale of our visit – a football match! Our nephew Paul had managed to get a full Liverpool FC strip to pass on to a team over here, so after our last visit to Challu we decided to give it to them. A football match was scheduled so we could see the team perform in the kit! While we were waiting, Mohammed told one of the lads to get the ‘talking drums’ out. Initially we thought that we were going to be entertained again! But talking drums are so called because they talk with them, and the lad used them to tell people in the community to get a move on, the match should have started by now! Incidentally mobile phones don’t work in Challu, so when you’ve got a message that needs passing on… use the drums! Sure enough, people started to arrive and soon we were all on the pitch awaiting the opposition – the community team. Now in a bizarre twist of fate, the community lads turned up in a full AC Milan kit. To briefly explain the significance of this to all non football people, Liverpool has played AC Milan twice in the Champion’s League Final in recent years (winning one and losing one), so here was the opportunity to play out a decider on the lush (bone hard and stony) surface of the Challu pitch. Before it started however, Mohammed made a quick speech in Sissali to explain the significance of the game and then I had the great honour of ‘kicking off’ the game. For the record, to cries of ‘keep your balls on the ground’ from many budding coaches on the touchline, Liverpool huffed and puffed to a 2-1 victory.
The evening was drawing in by the end of the game, so we quickly shook hands with the players and thanked them for their exertions, took a final few snaps of the teachers, and once again thanked Mohammed and everyone who had been involved in putting together the day’s events, before begging permission to leave. We mounted our motos for the ride home arriving back in Tumu shortly after dark, exhausted but buzzing from a magical day.
This is another example of how Ghanaians have truly welcomed us and appreciated all the support we have been able to afford to them, and in no small measure to every one back home. So although Diane and I have made a lot of new life long friends, you too have many friends here in The Upper West Region of Ghana.
28th May was a special day and another example of the wonderful experiences we’ve had during our time in Ghana. Following our efforts back in March with a Primary 5 class, were they replied to letters received from the children of St. Elizabeth’s School, in Litherland, we were invited back to Challu School by the Head Teacher Mohammed, to be given a ‘cultural experience’ as way of a thank you.
We made the 30km moto journey on Wednesday morning, arriving in true Ghanaian style – around 30 minutes late! We arrived to find the whole school was in position to greet us and watch us watching the events that were to follow, and also to enjoy the events themselves. After a quick change into our Ghanaian clothes, we greeted members of the PTA and different teachers, were given a bottle of coke (warm of course as there is no electricity in Challu, and so no fridges), then shown to our seats at the head (only) table sited in the natural arena formed by the shade provided by the many Nim trees.
Once seated, the show began. We were treated to drumming, dancing, drama, and more drumming and dancing, all performed by the pupils of Challu accompanied by ladies and gentlemen of the community, who had not gone to their farms for the day as it was a special celebration. We’ve seen dances on many occasions, but we never cease to tire of, or be amazed by, the energy, commitment and enthusiasm shown by the participants. What’s more the dancers and all the people watching absolutely love it. The dance only finishes when everyone is exhausted, which can be as long as 20 – 30 minutes. We’re still looking for someone who can explain the significance of the dances, that’s something that even appears to have escaped the elders. When we discretely enquired of the elders through Mohammed as to the origin of the first dance, he informed us that the elders must consult each other on that one. After around five minutes they concluded that there was no conclusion! Needless to say we didn’t enquire about subsequent dances. All the dances performed do have steps and body movements that need to be followed by all those taking part. One of the very old elders made sure that all the pupils were doing it right, by joining in for most of the dancers. He must have been 80 if he was a day, with a lovely smile, a single large brown tooth in his head, a small white goatee beard, very raggedy cream coloured trousers, well when first made they would have been that colour, with two enormous holes in the posterior!!! Di’s insistent that he did have a pair of brown undies on, but I’m not so sure his modesty was covered. However he certainly did keep the dancers in check and played a small whistle for them to keep time to when he wasn’t dancing himself.
Slotted in between the drumming and dancing was a drama. We had also witnessed similar dramas at events like Independence Day, when everyone laughs heartily at the actions, and we hadn’t got a clue what was going on. Not so this time we followed every action The underlying message to the drama was that it pays to persevere with education (although Mohammed announced to the students that the moral was that they should always obey and respect their elders! I don’t think Chinese propaganda could be that subtle). The actors were stars. Di and I talked about the fact that there is a massive bank of untapped talent in villages all over Ghana, and but sadly most of these children will never move far from their village in their lifetime.
When eventually all the drumming, dancing and acting came to an end, Mohammed addressed the gathering and talked of our friendship and bond with the school. He then, on behalf of the school and the community, presented us with gifts. We both received smocks, Diane’s accompanied with a pair of knickerbockers (I think they used to be called passion killers) and mine with a hat (that resembles something out of Thunderbirds). We duly replaced our existing Ghanaian attire with the new smocks, and the crowd was delighted. Please note, I had to wear my hat but Diane somehow avoided putting her passion killers on!
After Alan ‘Tracey’ responded with a short speech of thanks we were escorted back to Mohammed’s office for some lunch. They did us proud. The table was laid as if it was a romantic dinner for two (plates, mugs, knives, forks and even a bunch of ornamental flowers).Fortunately they quickly provided an extra place for Mohammed and we all enjoyed a plate of pasta with fish stew – somehow they’d ensured Diane had avoided the anticipated and dreaded TZ (commonly referred to by Diane as ‘wallpaper paste’).
We passed the rest of the afternoon sitting under some trees by the teacher’s quarters chatting to Mohammed and his assistant and our friend JJ, whilst some teachers slept and others shelled ground nuts. The set up is actually quite good for the teachers at Challu. They have their own accommodation and therefore some privacy, although they still don’t have running water, toilet facilities or electricity. (Mind you neither does the whole of Challu.)
We were awaiting the finale of our visit – a football match! Our nephew Paul had managed to get a full Liverpool FC strip to pass on to a team over here, so after our last visit to Challu we decided to give it to them. A football match was scheduled so we could see the team perform in the kit! While we were waiting, Mohammed told one of the lads to get the ‘talking drums’ out. Initially we thought that we were going to be entertained again! But talking drums are so called because they talk with them, and the lad used them to tell people in the community to get a move on, the match should have started by now! Incidentally mobile phones don’t work in Challu, so when you’ve got a message that needs passing on… use the drums! Sure enough, people started to arrive and soon we were all on the pitch awaiting the opposition – the community team. Now in a bizarre twist of fate, the community lads turned up in a full AC Milan kit. To briefly explain the significance of this to all non football people, Liverpool has played AC Milan twice in the Champion’s League Final in recent years (winning one and losing one), so here was the opportunity to play out a decider on the lush (bone hard and stony) surface of the Challu pitch. Before it started however, Mohammed made a quick speech in Sissali to explain the significance of the game and then I had the great honour of ‘kicking off’ the game. For the record, to cries of ‘keep your balls on the ground’ from many budding coaches on the touchline, Liverpool huffed and puffed to a 2-1 victory.
The evening was drawing in by the end of the game, so we quickly shook hands with the players and thanked them for their exertions, took a final few snaps of the teachers, and once again thanked Mohammed and everyone who had been involved in putting together the day’s events, before begging permission to leave. We mounted our motos for the ride home arriving back in Tumu shortly after dark, exhausted but buzzing from a magical day.
This is another example of how Ghanaians have truly welcomed us and appreciated all the support we have been able to afford to them, and in no small measure to every one back home. So although Diane and I have made a lot of new life long friends, you too have many friends here in The Upper West Region of Ghana.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Mole National Park and the Funeral Season
The weekend after Easter we decided to take in a bit of the more serious wildlife of Ghana, as apposed to goats, sheep, pigs, donkeys, frogs etc. and visited the country’s largest and best-known reserve, Mole National Park. Whilst there is little doubt that animals (other than pigs, goats, sheep and cattle) do roam wild in Ghana, sightings are few and far between, and it’s hardly surprising when you look at what happened to the Hippo – they know they run the risk of ending up as chop! Mole however, provides a relatively safe haven for a variety of species, and at the same time provides an opportunity for visitors to see them at close quarters and in their natural habitat. So we teamed up with Ruth (another VSO) and her sister-in-law Lesley who was on a short holiday from the UK and set off.
Now any trip in Ghana wouldn’t be the same without a high degree of difficulty and discomfort in arriving at your destination. To start we had to go via Tamale (at least a 6 to 7 hour journey from Tumu if we did it in one go which we didn’t. We stopped in Bolga overnight and travelled on to Tamale the next day), from where there are different means to get to the nearest town to the reserve, Damongo. The mode of transport however is the usual bone shattering ‘tro tro’, and to be honest we weren’t up for it. So we decided to hire a taxi, and have a little more freedom. Now people had warned us that once you turn off the Tamale – Kumasi road and head for Damongo, that the road is the worst in Ghana. And they are not wrong! It’s appalling. Over 80 kilometres of corrugations and potholes. Unfortunately, the road isn’t really suitable for taxis, and after about 30km and an hour and a half of pretty bad vibrations we broke down. The problem? The back wheel had come loose. When the driver took it off, it only had three wheel nuts instead of four. He umm’d and aah’d about what to do, a young local guy gave him the customary nail to help (thankfully he discarded it), and eventually he decided to tighten the three nuts, and off we set again. The journey took another two to three hours and he drove much of the way with his head leaning out of the window listening for noises from the back wheel, and stopping about every 20 minutes to tighten the nuts again. But nevertheless we had arrived safely by mid-afternoon on Friday, shaken but not stirred. We paid him and thanked him for his efforts, and he was last seen leaving the car park at Mole with his head half way out of the window!
The Hotel at Mole is situated at the top of an escarpment, and overlooks a vast forested plain, with a waterhole sited at the base of the escarpment, directly below the hotel. It’s quite a big complex, with a range of chalets, a restaurant and bar, and get this…a swimming pool! Although it’s very touristy in the hotel, its remoteness really does allow you to relax. Our room, air-conditioned no less, was situated a little further along the escarpment in a really quiet part of the complex. We spent much of the time sitting in the shade of a huge Nim tree overlooking the plain, watching the world and the wildlife go by…literally.
There are guided walks that take you down on to the plain, early morning and late afternoon. We opted for a morning walk. We were informed that there are eight main species that you see regularly at Mole: warthog; red patas monkey; green patas monkey; baboon; kob (type of deer); bush buck; water buck; and the biggie…elephant. On our walk we saw most of these. It’s really strange to be walking along and coming across bush buck or kob, that prick their ears before moving off to a safe distance then stand and stir at you. They have obviously become accustomed to the guided walks, and although they still have that instinct to move off, it is possible to get a reasonable look at them at close quarters. Still, the Ghanaian guide is not the subtlest creature, and they don’t believe in moving around slowly and quietly, so trying to spot things like birds was less easy. After wandering for around an hour we made our way back across the plain toward the hotel, and to stop off at the major waterhole. Then as we emerged through some bushes to the edge of the waterhole situated below the hotel, we were greeted by the sight of eight elephants wallowing in the water. Magical. We’ve seen elephants before in the wild, but only fleetingly or from a distance, but these were no more than 20 or 30 yards away and were going nowhere for a while. We stood and watched. They weren’t in the least perturbed. They did everything you expect of elephants. Sprayed themselves with water and mud. Made elephant calls. Wafted their ears and waved their trunks. What fantastic creatures they are. After a long time we made our way back up the escarpment, where we sat again for some time watching them through our binoculars. Interestingly as soon as we’d moved away, another elephant appeared on the bank to join the others. It was huge; its tusks just cleared the floor. Think he’d been waiting for us to go so he could jump in the pool. After around three hours of relaxation the elephants slowly emerged from the waterhole one by one, and made their way off into the distance in a slow moving convoy.
The time we spent at Mole followed this sort of pattern; sitting, watching, relaxing and enjoying. Whilst we were doing this green patas monkeys would appear in the trees around us, and after picking at the seeds and leaves and doing whatever they do, they’d usually fall asleep. Or alternatively, a troop of baboons would move through the hotel grounds, intimidating anyone they passed…us included. At one point we were evicted from our chairs, while they all sat around chilling out where we had just been! When not being disturbed by the baboons, we saw a great variety of birdlife. Two particularly stunning ones being the African Paradise Flycatcher and the Bataleur (a species of Eagle). Late afternoons involved a compulsory dip in the pool, followed by a beer. Then it was a quick change before our evening meal. All very sophisticated and unGhanaian!
Eventually all good things must come to an end, so we contemplated our journey back to Tamale. Cutting another long story short, we paid for a ride in a Land Rover (the old variety), driven by a Rastafarian. It went slower than the taxi had to start with, until he tucked into his supply of cola nuts when he began to go faster and faster. All was relatively smooth until we broke down just before Tamale – basically he was running out of fuel and what was left in the tank was not of a very good quality. Nonetheless, we made it to a garage, and eventually back to Tamale, but it was marginally better than the outgoing taxi ride. We stopped the night at Bolgatanga on the way back to Tumu, and stocked up on some goodies (jar of mayonnaise, tomato ketchup, tins of mixed veg and Foster Clark’s fruit drinks, no twix or mars bars this time) before arriving back in Tumu on the Tuesday.
Whilst we were away we missed a large funeral in Tumu. Mrs Jolly (owner of Jolly Friends bar behind our house) had invited us to her mother’s funeral, a seriously big occasion, located at the Chief’s Palace. It started on the Friday and finished on the Sunday. Following local traditions we paid our respects, offered our condolences and had to decline as we were travelling. But there have since been many funerals in and around Tumu, this being officially the funeral season – or the peak of the funeral season. It actually runs from November to May. It is at this time of year, people take the opportunity to commemorate the passing of members of their family, for three main reasons: firstly because the main farming season has not yet started, so valuable farming hours are not being lost; secondly, there is a plentiful supply of food, so the hosts can provide for their guests; and thirdly, it’s hot. This means all the visitors can be accommodated, they can simply sleep outside when the rooms are full! The burials will have occurred weeks, often months ago, and the funerals allow an opportunity for a significant social gathering. So the past few weekends here in Tumu have resounded with the sound of explosions. Gunfire is an indicator of the status or type of person that the funeral is for and also for the stage the funeral is at. Traditionally a musket would be fired, but now because the guns are probably too old and unsafe, the communities use gunpowder charges, hence some of the explosions are rather loud! It all probably resembles the sounds of a distant battle, quite eerie really. It also means that many local businesses are closed, as different families go to pay their respects. One other feature of these funerals, again depending on the status of the deceased, is the arrival of ‘warriors’ who perform their dances and rituals, rituals that usually involve the spontaneous sacrifice of some unfortunate passing animal (be it a goat or a dog) – so a feature we’re not too sorry to say we haven’t witnessed…yet!
So there you go another month of typical Ghanaian life.
The weekend after Easter we decided to take in a bit of the more serious wildlife of Ghana, as apposed to goats, sheep, pigs, donkeys, frogs etc. and visited the country’s largest and best-known reserve, Mole National Park. Whilst there is little doubt that animals (other than pigs, goats, sheep and cattle) do roam wild in Ghana, sightings are few and far between, and it’s hardly surprising when you look at what happened to the Hippo – they know they run the risk of ending up as chop! Mole however, provides a relatively safe haven for a variety of species, and at the same time provides an opportunity for visitors to see them at close quarters and in their natural habitat. So we teamed up with Ruth (another VSO) and her sister-in-law Lesley who was on a short holiday from the UK and set off.
Now any trip in Ghana wouldn’t be the same without a high degree of difficulty and discomfort in arriving at your destination. To start we had to go via Tamale (at least a 6 to 7 hour journey from Tumu if we did it in one go which we didn’t. We stopped in Bolga overnight and travelled on to Tamale the next day), from where there are different means to get to the nearest town to the reserve, Damongo. The mode of transport however is the usual bone shattering ‘tro tro’, and to be honest we weren’t up for it. So we decided to hire a taxi, and have a little more freedom. Now people had warned us that once you turn off the Tamale – Kumasi road and head for Damongo, that the road is the worst in Ghana. And they are not wrong! It’s appalling. Over 80 kilometres of corrugations and potholes. Unfortunately, the road isn’t really suitable for taxis, and after about 30km and an hour and a half of pretty bad vibrations we broke down. The problem? The back wheel had come loose. When the driver took it off, it only had three wheel nuts instead of four. He umm’d and aah’d about what to do, a young local guy gave him the customary nail to help (thankfully he discarded it), and eventually he decided to tighten the three nuts, and off we set again. The journey took another two to three hours and he drove much of the way with his head leaning out of the window listening for noises from the back wheel, and stopping about every 20 minutes to tighten the nuts again. But nevertheless we had arrived safely by mid-afternoon on Friday, shaken but not stirred. We paid him and thanked him for his efforts, and he was last seen leaving the car park at Mole with his head half way out of the window!
The Hotel at Mole is situated at the top of an escarpment, and overlooks a vast forested plain, with a waterhole sited at the base of the escarpment, directly below the hotel. It’s quite a big complex, with a range of chalets, a restaurant and bar, and get this…a swimming pool! Although it’s very touristy in the hotel, its remoteness really does allow you to relax. Our room, air-conditioned no less, was situated a little further along the escarpment in a really quiet part of the complex. We spent much of the time sitting in the shade of a huge Nim tree overlooking the plain, watching the world and the wildlife go by…literally.
There are guided walks that take you down on to the plain, early morning and late afternoon. We opted for a morning walk. We were informed that there are eight main species that you see regularly at Mole: warthog; red patas monkey; green patas monkey; baboon; kob (type of deer); bush buck; water buck; and the biggie…elephant. On our walk we saw most of these. It’s really strange to be walking along and coming across bush buck or kob, that prick their ears before moving off to a safe distance then stand and stir at you. They have obviously become accustomed to the guided walks, and although they still have that instinct to move off, it is possible to get a reasonable look at them at close quarters. Still, the Ghanaian guide is not the subtlest creature, and they don’t believe in moving around slowly and quietly, so trying to spot things like birds was less easy. After wandering for around an hour we made our way back across the plain toward the hotel, and to stop off at the major waterhole. Then as we emerged through some bushes to the edge of the waterhole situated below the hotel, we were greeted by the sight of eight elephants wallowing in the water. Magical. We’ve seen elephants before in the wild, but only fleetingly or from a distance, but these were no more than 20 or 30 yards away and were going nowhere for a while. We stood and watched. They weren’t in the least perturbed. They did everything you expect of elephants. Sprayed themselves with water and mud. Made elephant calls. Wafted their ears and waved their trunks. What fantastic creatures they are. After a long time we made our way back up the escarpment, where we sat again for some time watching them through our binoculars. Interestingly as soon as we’d moved away, another elephant appeared on the bank to join the others. It was huge; its tusks just cleared the floor. Think he’d been waiting for us to go so he could jump in the pool. After around three hours of relaxation the elephants slowly emerged from the waterhole one by one, and made their way off into the distance in a slow moving convoy.
The time we spent at Mole followed this sort of pattern; sitting, watching, relaxing and enjoying. Whilst we were doing this green patas monkeys would appear in the trees around us, and after picking at the seeds and leaves and doing whatever they do, they’d usually fall asleep. Or alternatively, a troop of baboons would move through the hotel grounds, intimidating anyone they passed…us included. At one point we were evicted from our chairs, while they all sat around chilling out where we had just been! When not being disturbed by the baboons, we saw a great variety of birdlife. Two particularly stunning ones being the African Paradise Flycatcher and the Bataleur (a species of Eagle). Late afternoons involved a compulsory dip in the pool, followed by a beer. Then it was a quick change before our evening meal. All very sophisticated and unGhanaian!
Eventually all good things must come to an end, so we contemplated our journey back to Tamale. Cutting another long story short, we paid for a ride in a Land Rover (the old variety), driven by a Rastafarian. It went slower than the taxi had to start with, until he tucked into his supply of cola nuts when he began to go faster and faster. All was relatively smooth until we broke down just before Tamale – basically he was running out of fuel and what was left in the tank was not of a very good quality. Nonetheless, we made it to a garage, and eventually back to Tamale, but it was marginally better than the outgoing taxi ride. We stopped the night at Bolgatanga on the way back to Tumu, and stocked up on some goodies (jar of mayonnaise, tomato ketchup, tins of mixed veg and Foster Clark’s fruit drinks, no twix or mars bars this time) before arriving back in Tumu on the Tuesday.
Whilst we were away we missed a large funeral in Tumu. Mrs Jolly (owner of Jolly Friends bar behind our house) had invited us to her mother’s funeral, a seriously big occasion, located at the Chief’s Palace. It started on the Friday and finished on the Sunday. Following local traditions we paid our respects, offered our condolences and had to decline as we were travelling. But there have since been many funerals in and around Tumu, this being officially the funeral season – or the peak of the funeral season. It actually runs from November to May. It is at this time of year, people take the opportunity to commemorate the passing of members of their family, for three main reasons: firstly because the main farming season has not yet started, so valuable farming hours are not being lost; secondly, there is a plentiful supply of food, so the hosts can provide for their guests; and thirdly, it’s hot. This means all the visitors can be accommodated, they can simply sleep outside when the rooms are full! The burials will have occurred weeks, often months ago, and the funerals allow an opportunity for a significant social gathering. So the past few weekends here in Tumu have resounded with the sound of explosions. Gunfire is an indicator of the status or type of person that the funeral is for and also for the stage the funeral is at. Traditionally a musket would be fired, but now because the guns are probably too old and unsafe, the communities use gunpowder charges, hence some of the explosions are rather loud! It all probably resembles the sounds of a distant battle, quite eerie really. It also means that many local businesses are closed, as different families go to pay their respects. One other feature of these funerals, again depending on the status of the deceased, is the arrival of ‘warriors’ who perform their dances and rituals, rituals that usually involve the spontaneous sacrifice of some unfortunate passing animal (be it a goat or a dog) – so a feature we’re not too sorry to say we haven’t witnessed…yet!
So there you go another month of typical Ghanaian life.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Football, Football and more Football
It’s here, CAN 2008! No, the Cup of African Nations (CAN) wasn’t my reason to come to Ghana, but it was a marvellous coincidence that it was being staged whilst we are here! Anyone who knows me knows that my biggest passion in life is football, (after Diane of course!). The build up naturally, went on for a while. But whereas in Europe, the build up is slick and timed with military precision, in Africa… well let’s just say it isn’t!
The nearest games to Tumu were being played in Tamale. Roughly 8 to 9 hours away if you do it in one go on public transport. Group D was there, the delights of Angola, Senegal, South Africa and Tunisia. So my main aim was to see at least a game live. Accommodation in Tamale on a normal day is sparse, but for CAN it was ‘finished’. Fortunately, there’s a VSO couple there called Rik and Dinie, and they agreed to put us up. So the next task was to get a ticket. Cutting a long story short I acquired a ticket in a Post Office in Bolgatanga when on a visit for a meeting conveniently arranged just before the tournament started. I also encountered my first journalist there. He wanted a ‘white man’ to take part in a phone-in to a radio station in Accra. He didn’t have to ask twice. The only trouble was he wanted to know what ‘paraphernalia’ I was buying – for paraphernalia read merchandise – from a makeshift washing line I was having a look at. I wasn’t. When I told everyone listening to City FM that I was only here to buy tickets and that they should also be selling them in places like Tumu, he bid me a curt ‘thank you’ and moved on to his next interviewee. So my time on the Ghanaian airwaves was short-lived – but at least I had my ticket.
Diane and I booked time off so that we could spend around a week in Tamale, ‘like a short holiday’ said Di. More importantly that meant by my calculations I could get two more matches in, including the once mighty Cameroon – the (indomitable) Lions of Africa, Roger Milla, Old man Billeck (not spelt like that, but that’s what we called him), a glorious 3-2 defeat to England in Italia 90 …sorry I’ve come over all nostalgic! So off to Tamale we set.
Now, I hadn’t just bought one ticket in Bolgatanga, I’d bought two! And those of you that know Diane, will know how much she loves football…not! But she can’t spend two years here and not see a CAN game, can she? So Senegal vs Angola became the first live, in the flesh football match Diane had seen in our 26 years of marriage. The only time she’d ever been to Anfield was to see Billy Graham. As it happened on the day of the first game, Rik and Dinie’s house became a meeting point for dozens of people from all over the area. There were more VSO’s, other Dutch volunteers, an American Doctor, a Dutch Priest, the Archbishop of Tamale (who we sat next to) and brilliantly there were dozens of Ghanaian children and young adults from orphanages and schools who were all being taken to the game. So we bought two of their job lot of tickets so we could sit with all these people and gave our tickets to the watchmen at Rik and Dinie’s house, Mr Ibrahim and Mr John who were delighted to be able to go to the match. Then off we set. The house is very close to the new stadium, lying on the newly imaginatively renamed Stadium Road!
We all made our way to the ground, (The Tamale Sports Stadium) there was a real carnival atmosphere. As someone who has attended countless games, the scene inside was as nothing I’d encountered before. The noise was deafening – that wasn’t new – but the fans appeared happy to blow trumpets, bang Pepsi sticks or dance whilst paying relatively little attention to the football. It became a four hour people watching exercise. We saw: the proverbial African witchdoctor dressed in bra and knickers (supporting South Africa); the man with a football balanced on his head all game (Angolan); the Zoom Lions moving efficiently along rows picking up litter as the games were being played; countless vendors doing the same with different products balanced on their heads; riot policemen with shields and stun guns standing emotionless in the middle of celebrating fans; and fire officers complete with helmets showing people to seats – even late into the second half of the second game! In all honesty it was well into the second half of both games before I actually tried to concentrate on the football! At one point I too found myself sitting with my Pepsi sticks rhythmically banging them together almost trance-like!
For the record Angola came from behind to beat Senegal 3-1, all the goals in the opposite end, and Tunisia beat South Africa 3-1, all the goals in our end.
As the week moved on our (my) plan worked out perfectly. We got tickets and watched (the legendary) Cameroon v Sudan – treating Dinie to her first ever match. Then watched Tunisia v Angola in the final Group D match on the Thursday. The atmosphere was much the same for both games, except the Pepsi sticks were replaced with MTN yellow blow up hands! And while the trumpets remained we had the pleasure of sitting next to the official Tunisian fan club with their array of musical instruments – well, a selection of drums! The conclusion reached – give an African something that makes a noise and he’s happy! I must mention for those football fans reading this that we also witnessed Samuel Eto’o of Cameroon break the record as the all time top goal scorer in African Nation Finals – and he did it right in front of us!
We (I) would have loved to stayed for the Quarter Final on the following Monday, but it was necessary to travel back to Tumu and resume work by then, so we bid our farewells to Rik and Dinie and made the long journey home to Tumu.
To digress momentarily, the stadium truly is a marvellous structure, and my football head loved it, but the fact that it was constructed slap bang in the middle of communities that had neither electricity nor running water before or after its construction makes my social and political head question its worth. Even as an economist I saw little evidence to justify its existence. But hey! Let’s not get too deep about it, you try asking the bloke sitting in front of us at the Cameroon game who was making his MTN hands break the sound barrier, whether it is worth it or not! If he can still hear, he’d have no doubts!
So all this football talk and not a mention of the hosts Ghana! Well we didn’t forget about them either. Before we left for Tamale, Ghana had played two games. They beat Guinea 2-1 in the opener, and we watched this at the Danes on their TV that had a light snowfall on it. It was the perfect ending though with Ghana scoring the winner in the last minute, and we all joined Dr Zak, Dinladi and Abraham (the Ghanaian contingent) in celebration. Then we watched outside on the roadside, as they defeated Namibia on a better screen at Kuburu Enterprise, the butchers, to the delight of the locals. Morrocco succumbed while we were in Tamale. On our return to Tumu we watched the Quarter Final against Nigeria at the trusty Kuburu (not before we’d fleetingly popped into Jolly Friends, our local drinking spot, for the start of the game, but their TV lasted until 3 minutes into the game before dying!). Nigeria is a massive rival. It’s the Liverpool v Everton, or Man Utd v Arsenal of the international scene. The scenes after a dramatic win for Ghana were tremendous. As the fifty or so viewers, mostly men and Diane, went wild outside the shop, others set off round Tumu on their motos beeping horns. On returning to our house Jolly Friends had an excuse to put their music on full blast, it was a long, loud but enjoyable evening.
Cameroon met Ghana in the semi final. Alas the anticipated celebrations at Kuburu didn’t materialise. We all ‘ayeeeeed’ and ‘ooooohed’ and ‘abbaed’ as much as we could, but to no avail. And at the final whistle our 1-0 defeat saw people depart in a subdued manner, that meant no beeping horns or mega sounds from Jolly Friends – the party well and truly stopped! A philosophical inquest took place in work the next day – the consensus being ‘Ah well, life has its downs as well as its ups, and there’s not a lot you can do, is there?’
Still, there was the 3rd & 4th place play off to look forward to on the Saturday, and against the Ivory Coast at that. So as Diane had a nice sortie up to Leo, Burkina Faso, with the ‘girls’, I looked forward to a relaxing afternoon ready for the kick off at 5.00pm. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. It wouldn’t be Ghana without some flaw in the proceedings. At 11.00am lights went out in Tumu (i.e. the electricity went off)! And when did the power come back? Just before Ghana scored their 4th goal in a 4-2 win. That was about 10 minutes from the end of the game, a wee bit too late for me to get up to Kuburu’s to see the dying moments! Well the powers that be at least gave us lights on the Sunday for the final between Egypt & Cameroon, so I renewed my acquaintance with Kuburu for one last time in the CAN, and watched with a surprisingly big crowd. Egypt win 1-0. The final whistle was greeted with a polite ripple of applause for the Egyptians.
To finish off, I stayed around outside the butchers to see the presentation of the trophy. After roughly 30 minutes of quite impressive pomp and ceremony, as Egypt were about to go up to collect the trophy… the TV signal failed! A rather sudden end to a quite marvellous three weeks. And in those three weeks we saw some quite impressive football, met lots of excited and happy football supporters from all over Africa, stayed in Ghana’s third largest city, bought ourselves some cheese, (kraft cheddar cheese in a tin!) and Di got to see her first live football game – her comments on the experience – ‘well I did enjoy myself, I liked seeing all the crowds and the stadium wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be, but I don’t think I’ll be going to the footy at home.’ Thank goodness….
It’s here, CAN 2008! No, the Cup of African Nations (CAN) wasn’t my reason to come to Ghana, but it was a marvellous coincidence that it was being staged whilst we are here! Anyone who knows me knows that my biggest passion in life is football, (after Diane of course!). The build up naturally, went on for a while. But whereas in Europe, the build up is slick and timed with military precision, in Africa… well let’s just say it isn’t!
The nearest games to Tumu were being played in Tamale. Roughly 8 to 9 hours away if you do it in one go on public transport. Group D was there, the delights of Angola, Senegal, South Africa and Tunisia. So my main aim was to see at least a game live. Accommodation in Tamale on a normal day is sparse, but for CAN it was ‘finished’. Fortunately, there’s a VSO couple there called Rik and Dinie, and they agreed to put us up. So the next task was to get a ticket. Cutting a long story short I acquired a ticket in a Post Office in Bolgatanga when on a visit for a meeting conveniently arranged just before the tournament started. I also encountered my first journalist there. He wanted a ‘white man’ to take part in a phone-in to a radio station in Accra. He didn’t have to ask twice. The only trouble was he wanted to know what ‘paraphernalia’ I was buying – for paraphernalia read merchandise – from a makeshift washing line I was having a look at. I wasn’t. When I told everyone listening to City FM that I was only here to buy tickets and that they should also be selling them in places like Tumu, he bid me a curt ‘thank you’ and moved on to his next interviewee. So my time on the Ghanaian airwaves was short-lived – but at least I had my ticket.
Diane and I booked time off so that we could spend around a week in Tamale, ‘like a short holiday’ said Di. More importantly that meant by my calculations I could get two more matches in, including the once mighty Cameroon – the (indomitable) Lions of Africa, Roger Milla, Old man Billeck (not spelt like that, but that’s what we called him), a glorious 3-2 defeat to England in Italia 90 …sorry I’ve come over all nostalgic! So off to Tamale we set.
Now, I hadn’t just bought one ticket in Bolgatanga, I’d bought two! And those of you that know Diane, will know how much she loves football…not! But she can’t spend two years here and not see a CAN game, can she? So Senegal vs Angola became the first live, in the flesh football match Diane had seen in our 26 years of marriage. The only time she’d ever been to Anfield was to see Billy Graham. As it happened on the day of the first game, Rik and Dinie’s house became a meeting point for dozens of people from all over the area. There were more VSO’s, other Dutch volunteers, an American Doctor, a Dutch Priest, the Archbishop of Tamale (who we sat next to) and brilliantly there were dozens of Ghanaian children and young adults from orphanages and schools who were all being taken to the game. So we bought two of their job lot of tickets so we could sit with all these people and gave our tickets to the watchmen at Rik and Dinie’s house, Mr Ibrahim and Mr John who were delighted to be able to go to the match. Then off we set. The house is very close to the new stadium, lying on the newly imaginatively renamed Stadium Road!
We all made our way to the ground, (The Tamale Sports Stadium) there was a real carnival atmosphere. As someone who has attended countless games, the scene inside was as nothing I’d encountered before. The noise was deafening – that wasn’t new – but the fans appeared happy to blow trumpets, bang Pepsi sticks or dance whilst paying relatively little attention to the football. It became a four hour people watching exercise. We saw: the proverbial African witchdoctor dressed in bra and knickers (supporting South Africa); the man with a football balanced on his head all game (Angolan); the Zoom Lions moving efficiently along rows picking up litter as the games were being played; countless vendors doing the same with different products balanced on their heads; riot policemen with shields and stun guns standing emotionless in the middle of celebrating fans; and fire officers complete with helmets showing people to seats – even late into the second half of the second game! In all honesty it was well into the second half of both games before I actually tried to concentrate on the football! At one point I too found myself sitting with my Pepsi sticks rhythmically banging them together almost trance-like!
For the record Angola came from behind to beat Senegal 3-1, all the goals in the opposite end, and Tunisia beat South Africa 3-1, all the goals in our end.
As the week moved on our (my) plan worked out perfectly. We got tickets and watched (the legendary) Cameroon v Sudan – treating Dinie to her first ever match. Then watched Tunisia v Angola in the final Group D match on the Thursday. The atmosphere was much the same for both games, except the Pepsi sticks were replaced with MTN yellow blow up hands! And while the trumpets remained we had the pleasure of sitting next to the official Tunisian fan club with their array of musical instruments – well, a selection of drums! The conclusion reached – give an African something that makes a noise and he’s happy! I must mention for those football fans reading this that we also witnessed Samuel Eto’o of Cameroon break the record as the all time top goal scorer in African Nation Finals – and he did it right in front of us!
We (I) would have loved to stayed for the Quarter Final on the following Monday, but it was necessary to travel back to Tumu and resume work by then, so we bid our farewells to Rik and Dinie and made the long journey home to Tumu.
To digress momentarily, the stadium truly is a marvellous structure, and my football head loved it, but the fact that it was constructed slap bang in the middle of communities that had neither electricity nor running water before or after its construction makes my social and political head question its worth. Even as an economist I saw little evidence to justify its existence. But hey! Let’s not get too deep about it, you try asking the bloke sitting in front of us at the Cameroon game who was making his MTN hands break the sound barrier, whether it is worth it or not! If he can still hear, he’d have no doubts!
So all this football talk and not a mention of the hosts Ghana! Well we didn’t forget about them either. Before we left for Tamale, Ghana had played two games. They beat Guinea 2-1 in the opener, and we watched this at the Danes on their TV that had a light snowfall on it. It was the perfect ending though with Ghana scoring the winner in the last minute, and we all joined Dr Zak, Dinladi and Abraham (the Ghanaian contingent) in celebration. Then we watched outside on the roadside, as they defeated Namibia on a better screen at Kuburu Enterprise, the butchers, to the delight of the locals. Morrocco succumbed while we were in Tamale. On our return to Tumu we watched the Quarter Final against Nigeria at the trusty Kuburu (not before we’d fleetingly popped into Jolly Friends, our local drinking spot, for the start of the game, but their TV lasted until 3 minutes into the game before dying!). Nigeria is a massive rival. It’s the Liverpool v Everton, or Man Utd v Arsenal of the international scene. The scenes after a dramatic win for Ghana were tremendous. As the fifty or so viewers, mostly men and Diane, went wild outside the shop, others set off round Tumu on their motos beeping horns. On returning to our house Jolly Friends had an excuse to put their music on full blast, it was a long, loud but enjoyable evening.
Cameroon met Ghana in the semi final. Alas the anticipated celebrations at Kuburu didn’t materialise. We all ‘ayeeeeed’ and ‘ooooohed’ and ‘abbaed’ as much as we could, but to no avail. And at the final whistle our 1-0 defeat saw people depart in a subdued manner, that meant no beeping horns or mega sounds from Jolly Friends – the party well and truly stopped! A philosophical inquest took place in work the next day – the consensus being ‘Ah well, life has its downs as well as its ups, and there’s not a lot you can do, is there?’
Still, there was the 3rd & 4th place play off to look forward to on the Saturday, and against the Ivory Coast at that. So as Diane had a nice sortie up to Leo, Burkina Faso, with the ‘girls’, I looked forward to a relaxing afternoon ready for the kick off at 5.00pm. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. It wouldn’t be Ghana without some flaw in the proceedings. At 11.00am lights went out in Tumu (i.e. the electricity went off)! And when did the power come back? Just before Ghana scored their 4th goal in a 4-2 win. That was about 10 minutes from the end of the game, a wee bit too late for me to get up to Kuburu’s to see the dying moments! Well the powers that be at least gave us lights on the Sunday for the final between Egypt & Cameroon, so I renewed my acquaintance with Kuburu for one last time in the CAN, and watched with a surprisingly big crowd. Egypt win 1-0. The final whistle was greeted with a polite ripple of applause for the Egyptians.
To finish off, I stayed around outside the butchers to see the presentation of the trophy. After roughly 30 minutes of quite impressive pomp and ceremony, as Egypt were about to go up to collect the trophy… the TV signal failed! A rather sudden end to a quite marvellous three weeks. And in those three weeks we saw some quite impressive football, met lots of excited and happy football supporters from all over Africa, stayed in Ghana’s third largest city, bought ourselves some cheese, (kraft cheddar cheese in a tin!) and Di got to see her first live football game – her comments on the experience – ‘well I did enjoy myself, I liked seeing all the crowds and the stadium wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be, but I don’t think I’ll be going to the footy at home.’ Thank goodness….
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Ending the year in a blaze...of un glory!
The weather has certainly begun to change. We are now in hamattan season. The wild winds blowing from the Sahara desert, warm and very sandy!!! The early morning ride to college, across the dam, is rather a chilly experience for me. I’ve even had to wear a long sleeved shirt as it was getting to be quite cool on the bike. But it soon heats up during the day.
And talking of heat – Al very nearly had a diplomatic incident on his hands last weekend. As we have said before there are no refuse disposal agents, bin men to you and I, here in Tumu. You put any edible waste out for the animals, and glass bottles and tin cans are just flung in a pit, if you’re lucky to have one close by and the paper waste (bathroom etc) has to be burnt. We have done this on a weekly basis since the first weeks here in Tumu. At first we always had a bucket of water close at hand, but over the months this practise has been phased out as an unnecessary hassle… well until last weekend that is! Al, doing his boy-scout bit, lit the rubbish bag, in our little burning area to the side of the house, and started watching the world going by. Not a lot to see as not many people pass on a Saturday afternoon, then all of a sudden whoosh!!!! The dry grass close by caught alight, then the grass to the side of this and the flames just kept spreading and spreading. I offered water by the bucket loads, not that there is an awful lot of it in the house, Al managed to throw some at the now marauding flames, to no effect. The flames very quickly gathered momentum and in just a few moments we were looking at a forest fire. Well a large grass fire, that was spreading around the house and out towards the next building – the District Assembly Catering Guest House. The mango tree and several low bushes where totally engulfed. A small boy, aged 13 – 14 came to lend a hand, well to pull up a few bushes and start to beat the flames into submission. Again this had very little effect, the flames just caught hold further along the grassy paths. Thankfully the catering guest house has a sandy area all the way around it (a fire belt) so the flames burnt themselves out, so at this point and we were left to try and stop the fire spreading across the drainages ditches around our house and catching the wooded roof and window frames. Which thankfully we managed to do, more by good luck than anything we or this small boy had done! Within just 15 minutes we have a completely flattened blacken area surrounding the house, where there had been grasses and bushes. Thankfully the mango tree survived… Yes Tumu does have a fire engine, but they don’t have water!!!!! Didn’t we feel like total idiots? So from now on water will be available when Al does the burning, not that there is any chance of it happening again, as there is now no grass to catch alight….. Small boy was thanked from the bottom of our hearts but would not take any thing for his troubles, saying we are all here to help each other. Very noble of him, and our faith in human nature is just even more enhanced, then he added, “we all make mistakes!” smiled and left us with our charred surroundings. The smell lingered for days, the worst part was that I kept dreaming of rice pudding with a nice blackened skin on the top, why does everything remind me of food?
So we are sorry to the environmental folks and we do know that burning increasing the carbon emissions that the governments and everyone is trying to reduce, but it just couldn’t be helped.
So on that note may we wish you a Happy and Safe Christmas season. We are looking forward to 2008, VSO celebrates its 50th anniversary in Ghana and we are to complete the final eight months of our placements, time has certainly passed by.
Love and seasons greetings from Tumu.
The weather has certainly begun to change. We are now in hamattan season. The wild winds blowing from the Sahara desert, warm and very sandy!!! The early morning ride to college, across the dam, is rather a chilly experience for me. I’ve even had to wear a long sleeved shirt as it was getting to be quite cool on the bike. But it soon heats up during the day.
And talking of heat – Al very nearly had a diplomatic incident on his hands last weekend. As we have said before there are no refuse disposal agents, bin men to you and I, here in Tumu. You put any edible waste out for the animals, and glass bottles and tin cans are just flung in a pit, if you’re lucky to have one close by and the paper waste (bathroom etc) has to be burnt. We have done this on a weekly basis since the first weeks here in Tumu. At first we always had a bucket of water close at hand, but over the months this practise has been phased out as an unnecessary hassle… well until last weekend that is! Al, doing his boy-scout bit, lit the rubbish bag, in our little burning area to the side of the house, and started watching the world going by. Not a lot to see as not many people pass on a Saturday afternoon, then all of a sudden whoosh!!!! The dry grass close by caught alight, then the grass to the side of this and the flames just kept spreading and spreading. I offered water by the bucket loads, not that there is an awful lot of it in the house, Al managed to throw some at the now marauding flames, to no effect. The flames very quickly gathered momentum and in just a few moments we were looking at a forest fire. Well a large grass fire, that was spreading around the house and out towards the next building – the District Assembly Catering Guest House. The mango tree and several low bushes where totally engulfed. A small boy, aged 13 – 14 came to lend a hand, well to pull up a few bushes and start to beat the flames into submission. Again this had very little effect, the flames just caught hold further along the grassy paths. Thankfully the catering guest house has a sandy area all the way around it (a fire belt) so the flames burnt themselves out, so at this point and we were left to try and stop the fire spreading across the drainages ditches around our house and catching the wooded roof and window frames. Which thankfully we managed to do, more by good luck than anything we or this small boy had done! Within just 15 minutes we have a completely flattened blacken area surrounding the house, where there had been grasses and bushes. Thankfully the mango tree survived… Yes Tumu does have a fire engine, but they don’t have water!!!!! Didn’t we feel like total idiots? So from now on water will be available when Al does the burning, not that there is any chance of it happening again, as there is now no grass to catch alight….. Small boy was thanked from the bottom of our hearts but would not take any thing for his troubles, saying we are all here to help each other. Very noble of him, and our faith in human nature is just even more enhanced, then he added, “we all make mistakes!” smiled and left us with our charred surroundings. The smell lingered for days, the worst part was that I kept dreaming of rice pudding with a nice blackened skin on the top, why does everything remind me of food?
So we are sorry to the environmental folks and we do know that burning increasing the carbon emissions that the governments and everyone is trying to reduce, but it just couldn’t be helped.
So on that note may we wish you a Happy and Safe Christmas season. We are looking forward to 2008, VSO celebrates its 50th anniversary in Ghana and we are to complete the final eight months of our placements, time has certainly passed by.
Love and seasons greetings from Tumu.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
November 7th
Well, hello again and a warm…very literally…welcome back to Tumu. We’ve actually been back in Ghana now for just over six weeks - where does the time go? – and for one reason and another this is the first time we’ve had opportunity to resume our blog. So we’ll just give you a ‘small small’ taste of life here since we got back, the theme being ‘changes.’
A main reason for not posting a blog before now, is that the internet has been down for around 4 weeks. It’s like the song says, ‘you don’t know what you’ve got till its gone’, and we have to an extent been a bit frustrated by not having access to e-mails and the like. However, when you look around at everyone here and realise that about 99% of the population of Tumu have never seen a computer in the flesh, let alone received an e-mail, it puts it into perspective. This in many ways speaks volumes for the ‘progress’ that’s taken place here since we arrived. Whilst internet access is still confined to the local secondary school, communication devices like mobile phones are becoming quite common, and the communication masts springing up everywhere are evidence of this, (see the photograph of Tumu above). Indeed our mobile phone network, Areeba, was taken over by MTN whilst we were away, and this is a network now operating in several countries in West Africa.
Another area where there has been revolutionary developments is transport. Way back in October or November of 2006 we described our first experiences of travelling on ‘public’ transport. Travelling by ‘tro tro’ was the only way out of (and in to) Tumu. Up to 25 people crammed into what the locals call an ‘Ovan’ – i.e. it’s hot and it’s a van! Well the novelty of this very African mode of transport wore off after…well after the first time, actually. The discomfort, claustrophobic feeling and lack of health and safety regulations didn’t appeal to us and we became very reluctant to leave Tumu unless we had to. Anyway this October we had to travel twice. Firstly to Wa (westerly direction) for a Regional Meeting for VSOs, and secondly to Zebilla and Bolgatanga (easterly direction) for a ‘Peer Visit’ in Education. Well imagine our delight when we got back here and heard that buses (that is proper, full length, coach like buses) had come to Tumu. The only problem was establishing the timing of them. It turns out that there is a ‘Metro’ bus that goes from Wa to Bolgatanga, via Tumu, each day. And similarly one from Bolgatanga to Wa (via Tumu) each day. Now as we were going to Wa first we didn’t know what time the Bolgatanga bus would get into Tumu and indeed whether there would be any spaces, so we bit the bullet and got a ‘tro’ to Wa early morning. However on the return journey from Wa, we found the place where the bus parks up for the night and the driver instructed us as to when we should be there in the morning (4.00am). So this we did and got the bus back to Tumu with acres of leg room, miles of head room, and quite soft seats! We could also keep our bags with us at no extra cost, and not have to put them on the roof. The journey itself, using the dirt roads, was dreadfully bumpy but at least we could see where we were going and we both had a definite, ‘I feel safer on this’ sensation. So low and behold, we were back in Tumu at 8.45am on a Sunday morning after a great few days with lots of other volunteers, shaken but not stirred, and also not covered in red dust (sand) from head to toe.
We won’t go into as much detail about timings etc of the Bolgatanga trip, but we’ll just give you a couple of tales. At the much more civilised hour of 5.00am, we arrived for the bus back to Tumu. It almost had a carnival feel to the trip as we set off. Mrs Jolly (owner of Jolly Friends the drinking spot at the back of our house) and her sister were on board, as were several students from Tutco where Diane teaches. We even had a bus inspector board the bus to check everyone’s tickets before we left! As he finished checking all the tickets, he turned to the passengers and announced, and I quote: ‘Well done all of you, now keep tight hold of your tickets as you may need to show them to another inspector, and you must give them to the conductor as you alight.’ I can’t imagine a ticket inspector on a train in the UK turning to thank the whole of the carriage after he’s checked the tickets!
So we set off and just after we got out of Bolgatanga, there was an incredible bang. The cause of which, (and I actually saw it because I was looking ahead and could see what was coming), was what at first looked like a piece of plastic being blown into the windscreen, but that would not have caused such a bang nor the damage. We realised it was a big bird, actually a bird of prey that had been eating carrion off the road. The bus stopped and the driver, conductors (there’s three of them), and quite a few passengers got off to survey the cause, that is the dead bird – which incidentally Diane identified as a Yellow Billed Kite, (the bird book comes in handy at times like this), and the damage a very broken windscreen. So for a good 20 minutes the small posse stood someway behind the vehicle looking at this bird in the middle of the road. Eventually, one of the conductors was told to pick up the bird and bring it onto the bus. The official reason was to provide evidence to the bus company for the damage caused, but we reckon it was going to be chop for when they got to Wa. The journey continued. We picked up lots of passengers at Navrongo, so the bus resembled a ‘tro’ in the quantities of people, but still it was fino. Until another incident roughly half way home, when we passed the Wa - Bolgatanga bus coming the other way. As they drew level, on the incredibly narrow road, they both stopped. The drivers and conductors and even some passengers got out and greeted each other, like it had been years since they’d seen each other. I’m pretty sure that this happens every day. We thought it was highly amusing, but after about 10 minutes some passengers got irate and chastised the driver and conductors, and with cries of ‘drive on’, they reluctantly returned to the bus and we carried on our way. One passenger in particular delivered a monologue as to the terrible attitude and behaviour they were displaying. After travelling for a year on ‘tros’, we felt this was a tad over the top! Anyway, apart from the difficult task of squeezing past everyone to ‘alight’ at the Tumu police barrier. The rest of the journey was pretty uneventful.
One thing we must mention however is that the roads haven’t changed. In fact they are dire. Following the well-documented rains, they are in a terrible state; very, very bumpy. So we must pass our compliments on to the driver from Bolgatanga, because he really took care when encountering the incredibly uneven surface. Cynics might say it was because his vision through the smashed windscreen was virtually nil, but we think he cared greatly for his bus.
In our last blog, we mentioned the ‘Project’ at Egala Primary, where funds raised from people at home are helping to rebuild / renovate a classroom. Well, this is going very well. The building is looking like a building now. We’ll report on this at a later date, suffice to say that the change here has been tremendous.
To finish, some other changes. Tumu has acquired a lot more shops, well kiosks, (all selling the same few things of course!). There has been an explosion in 4 wheel drive vehicles as the NGOs in the area accumulate more money. The design of our much loved, and drunk Star beer bottle has changed, but not the contents (still warm and fizzy), nor the price 85 peswa or 8500 old cedis or in English 45pence …yet! And last but not least, Brenda – ‘our goat’ – alas appears to be no more. We haven’t seen her for almost two weeks, and we can therefore only conclude she has gone to the great chop shop in the sky. We think she would have taken a lot of chewing, being the old goat that she was.
So until next time, we’ll say goodbye and dedicate this blog to Brenda!
Well, hello again and a warm…very literally…welcome back to Tumu. We’ve actually been back in Ghana now for just over six weeks - where does the time go? – and for one reason and another this is the first time we’ve had opportunity to resume our blog. So we’ll just give you a ‘small small’ taste of life here since we got back, the theme being ‘changes.’
A main reason for not posting a blog before now, is that the internet has been down for around 4 weeks. It’s like the song says, ‘you don’t know what you’ve got till its gone’, and we have to an extent been a bit frustrated by not having access to e-mails and the like. However, when you look around at everyone here and realise that about 99% of the population of Tumu have never seen a computer in the flesh, let alone received an e-mail, it puts it into perspective. This in many ways speaks volumes for the ‘progress’ that’s taken place here since we arrived. Whilst internet access is still confined to the local secondary school, communication devices like mobile phones are becoming quite common, and the communication masts springing up everywhere are evidence of this, (see the photograph of Tumu above). Indeed our mobile phone network, Areeba, was taken over by MTN whilst we were away, and this is a network now operating in several countries in West Africa.
Another area where there has been revolutionary developments is transport. Way back in October or November of 2006 we described our first experiences of travelling on ‘public’ transport. Travelling by ‘tro tro’ was the only way out of (and in to) Tumu. Up to 25 people crammed into what the locals call an ‘Ovan’ – i.e. it’s hot and it’s a van! Well the novelty of this very African mode of transport wore off after…well after the first time, actually. The discomfort, claustrophobic feeling and lack of health and safety regulations didn’t appeal to us and we became very reluctant to leave Tumu unless we had to. Anyway this October we had to travel twice. Firstly to Wa (westerly direction) for a Regional Meeting for VSOs, and secondly to Zebilla and Bolgatanga (easterly direction) for a ‘Peer Visit’ in Education. Well imagine our delight when we got back here and heard that buses (that is proper, full length, coach like buses) had come to Tumu. The only problem was establishing the timing of them. It turns out that there is a ‘Metro’ bus that goes from Wa to Bolgatanga, via Tumu, each day. And similarly one from Bolgatanga to Wa (via Tumu) each day. Now as we were going to Wa first we didn’t know what time the Bolgatanga bus would get into Tumu and indeed whether there would be any spaces, so we bit the bullet and got a ‘tro’ to Wa early morning. However on the return journey from Wa, we found the place where the bus parks up for the night and the driver instructed us as to when we should be there in the morning (4.00am). So this we did and got the bus back to Tumu with acres of leg room, miles of head room, and quite soft seats! We could also keep our bags with us at no extra cost, and not have to put them on the roof. The journey itself, using the dirt roads, was dreadfully bumpy but at least we could see where we were going and we both had a definite, ‘I feel safer on this’ sensation. So low and behold, we were back in Tumu at 8.45am on a Sunday morning after a great few days with lots of other volunteers, shaken but not stirred, and also not covered in red dust (sand) from head to toe.
We won’t go into as much detail about timings etc of the Bolgatanga trip, but we’ll just give you a couple of tales. At the much more civilised hour of 5.00am, we arrived for the bus back to Tumu. It almost had a carnival feel to the trip as we set off. Mrs Jolly (owner of Jolly Friends the drinking spot at the back of our house) and her sister were on board, as were several students from Tutco where Diane teaches. We even had a bus inspector board the bus to check everyone’s tickets before we left! As he finished checking all the tickets, he turned to the passengers and announced, and I quote: ‘Well done all of you, now keep tight hold of your tickets as you may need to show them to another inspector, and you must give them to the conductor as you alight.’ I can’t imagine a ticket inspector on a train in the UK turning to thank the whole of the carriage after he’s checked the tickets!
So we set off and just after we got out of Bolgatanga, there was an incredible bang. The cause of which, (and I actually saw it because I was looking ahead and could see what was coming), was what at first looked like a piece of plastic being blown into the windscreen, but that would not have caused such a bang nor the damage. We realised it was a big bird, actually a bird of prey that had been eating carrion off the road. The bus stopped and the driver, conductors (there’s three of them), and quite a few passengers got off to survey the cause, that is the dead bird – which incidentally Diane identified as a Yellow Billed Kite, (the bird book comes in handy at times like this), and the damage a very broken windscreen. So for a good 20 minutes the small posse stood someway behind the vehicle looking at this bird in the middle of the road. Eventually, one of the conductors was told to pick up the bird and bring it onto the bus. The official reason was to provide evidence to the bus company for the damage caused, but we reckon it was going to be chop for when they got to Wa. The journey continued. We picked up lots of passengers at Navrongo, so the bus resembled a ‘tro’ in the quantities of people, but still it was fino. Until another incident roughly half way home, when we passed the Wa - Bolgatanga bus coming the other way. As they drew level, on the incredibly narrow road, they both stopped. The drivers and conductors and even some passengers got out and greeted each other, like it had been years since they’d seen each other. I’m pretty sure that this happens every day. We thought it was highly amusing, but after about 10 minutes some passengers got irate and chastised the driver and conductors, and with cries of ‘drive on’, they reluctantly returned to the bus and we carried on our way. One passenger in particular delivered a monologue as to the terrible attitude and behaviour they were displaying. After travelling for a year on ‘tros’, we felt this was a tad over the top! Anyway, apart from the difficult task of squeezing past everyone to ‘alight’ at the Tumu police barrier. The rest of the journey was pretty uneventful.
One thing we must mention however is that the roads haven’t changed. In fact they are dire. Following the well-documented rains, they are in a terrible state; very, very bumpy. So we must pass our compliments on to the driver from Bolgatanga, because he really took care when encountering the incredibly uneven surface. Cynics might say it was because his vision through the smashed windscreen was virtually nil, but we think he cared greatly for his bus.
In our last blog, we mentioned the ‘Project’ at Egala Primary, where funds raised from people at home are helping to rebuild / renovate a classroom. Well, this is going very well. The building is looking like a building now. We’ll report on this at a later date, suffice to say that the change here has been tremendous.
To finish, some other changes. Tumu has acquired a lot more shops, well kiosks, (all selling the same few things of course!). There has been an explosion in 4 wheel drive vehicles as the NGOs in the area accumulate more money. The design of our much loved, and drunk Star beer bottle has changed, but not the contents (still warm and fizzy), nor the price 85 peswa or 8500 old cedis or in English 45pence …yet! And last but not least, Brenda – ‘our goat’ – alas appears to be no more. We haven’t seen her for almost two weeks, and we can therefore only conclude she has gone to the great chop shop in the sky. We think she would have taken a lot of chewing, being the old goat that she was.
So until next time, we’ll say goodbye and dedicate this blog to Brenda!
