A Day in the Life Part Deux & Travels Deluxe

I didn't even skim the surface of my daily life here in Ghana, I mean, I didn't even cover the outreach! I talked about it a little before...but the volunteer work is why I'm here. I don't write about it because it is a routine, and it's my job, and it's basically the same every week. So, around noon Mon. through Thurs. I'm spreading AIDS awareness. Mon. through Wed. we go to schools and it can be a tough gig. You have to dance in a sort of ill-fitting costume that looks like a jester outfit on the first day. The rest of the time, you are trying to keep the attention of 100 12-year olds all the while holding up a visual aid of the drawing of a penis. And we hold group discussion sessions. It is really rewarding, especially when the kids are asking a lot of questions and geniunely interested, but when there are no questions, I feel like I choke sometimes. Uh, Uh, any more questions?
They love to watch us dance, and are so sweet, asking us,"are you coming back tomorrow?" This time always goes by too fast. And the village outreach on Thursdays are Long days, because we basically combine what we do in 3 days at the school into one day, AND we test. But it's a cool experience seeing the villagers reactions to us being there and to our information. And we have yet to go to a village and not find aleast one person who has HIV. It can be depressing, yet, as I said before, they are now INFORMED and not spreading the disease unknowingly, and can now get medicine to stay alive and healthy. You have to think of it like this: They had the virus before we came along, but finding it is not only protecting this person, it is protecting their children and partner[s].
I really enjoy the dancing part of the outreach too. I am by no means, coordinated at local dance. I've realized that this is not really necessary, as my attempt at and participation in traditional culture is what draws a crowd, but gets people interested being there for our outreach. I have come a really long way, and I have a little confession to make: The day of our first rehersal, (which was my very first day in Ghana) as they were teaching us the dances, I got very overwhelmed, frustrated, and I (stimultaneously with another volunteer) started crying! I had no idea that Ghanaians were loud talkers, and touchy, and as they were trying to teach me, they were grabbing my shoulders and trying to direct me, while 2 guys would be yelling different things at the same time. To my credit, I was jet-lagged, and in culture shock, but man, was it embarrassing! Everything sort of just stopped, and a whole village was watching the 2 white girls cry over nothing. I must have seemed so crazy, or silly, or spoiled, but the dancing lessons were a lot more gentle after this incident. I can just laugh at this now, it seems like ages ago, and I'm friends with my dance instructors. The fact that I look forward to our performances shows you just how comfortable I've become!
Now, let's move on to-- Ghanian Time! (Ga-knee-an) You have no idea how much I now appreciate the rigidity, order and efficiency of America. Ghanian Time means there is no time frame whatsoever. It is one of my displeasures of Africa. Even within our own program, things will often get started an hour or two later than we anticipate. Last Thurs. morning, our 8 a.m. bus arrived at 11:30. There are no apologies, this is just when the bus shows up, so you get on it. Waiting around 3, 5, hell, 8 hours is no big deal here, it's just something you do. Two 12 hour bus rides within a matter of 4 days teaches you alot about patience. Or maybe it's about letting go, succumbing to things in life that you have no control over, and that grumbling over it, and getting angry about it just makes things worse.
Segway to: My Adventure to the Northern Reigon had a rocky start, as you now know, however..... Mole National Park was incredible. Sure, I arrived in the hub town of Tamale in the middle of the night, overpaid for a taxi and hotel room that would only be used from midnight to 3:30 a.m., found out the 4 a.m. bus was sold out and the next one wouldn't be leaving until 2, wandered around looking for transportation before sunrise, almost rode on an over stuffed tro tro with standing room only, but we got there, and we did in style--all these misfortunes led to our (Becca, Ebenezer and I, as usual) being picked up in a nice, private, pick-up truck, driven by 2 surly men who kept telling us how lucky we were. You don't have to tell me twice, mister. They drove fast, and we got to Mole by 9:30 that morning. Whew!
We arrived at the grounds of the Mole Motel, greeted by warthogs, chewing away at the lawn. The motel overlooks the Park's watering hole, so it is situated on a hill, surrounded by grassland and trees and peace and quiet! At the time of arrival, we had already been awake for 6 hours, so it was breakfast time! I took a peek off the observation deck, and saw elephants all around! Then, as we checked into our room, a troupe of baboons decided to stroll through our back deck, and stopped to peer through our screen! During b.fast I had to go back to the room to pick up some sunscreen, and who did I see but Mr. Elephant standing right in front of my building! He was so close that he was actually blocking my way into our room, and I didn't press my luck, so I went around back. You know I got some great pics!
The rest of the day I was able to nap, lounge around on the observation deck and swim in the pool. It was like paradise compared to how we had spent the previous 24 hours. That afternoon we connected with two very lovely girls from Denmark, who let us join them in the back of their truck for a driving safari. It was fun, although not as rewarding with game viewing as the rest of my day had been (but we did see a baby crocodile, which was kinda neat). We ended the evening with dinner, chatting, and an early tuck-in. 6 a.m. wake up for the walking safari. I was not equippped with proper foot-gear so was made to rent some galoshes, 4 sizes too big. I likened it to walking in my dad's snowboats when I was a kid. An armed guide took us down some easy trails to the watering hole, and we saw plenty of warthogs, baboons, and antelope, although I still couldn't keep my mind off the damned boots (I was more trudging than walking). It was a cool morning, and soon the sky opened up and starting pouring rain on us. It let up a bit, and it was perfectly timed for our encounter with an elephant as we turned the corner (I know not everyone had the same fortune that I did the day before). Like all the fortitous experiences of the weekend, my wellies now were keeping my feet and legs nice and dry from mud and brush and I was happy. After the safari, we had a refreshing and relaxing day eating, swimming, resting and socializing. All good things come to an end, however and...
The travels back home to Accra via Tamale, were, of course, hellish, beginning with a 3 a.m. wake up call, a slow, loud bus trip back to Tamale only to discover we had missed the bus to Accra by 2 hours. I was very grumpy that morning, being unkind in my head about all the villagers overloading the bus, invading my space, and talking too much in the early morning hours. Then I realized, that I am the foreigner, it is their country, and how I feel about how they do things is really unimportant. It was going to be crowded, loud and slow, whether I was sitting there or not, and I better just shut up and deal with it. Nonetheless, I was not pleased when we got to Tamale and realized the next bus to Accra was leaving at 4 p.m. Time to kill is not an understatement. Ok, so time is up. This blog is NOT finished however. Please check soon for the rest of my post regarding the travels deluxe.