The French definitely had a different take on colonization than the British. Lome is said to be the “Paris of West Africa” although Abidijan in Cote di Viore makes the same claim. There are actual cobblestone sidewalks, however, and the buildings feel much more permanent. There is less trash, but more pollution, hardly any car taxis at all. Everyone rides around on motorcycles. You hop on the back of a moto taxi and they take you where you need to go. It’s insanely fun riding along the ocean front at night on the back of a motorcycle, zipping through condensed and congested busy streets. I think I love motorcycles. If it wasn’t for all the pollution I would prefer them. Everywhere was also much quieter. Less people were shouting, and I heard hardly anyone speaking native ewe language. Everyone seemed to be speaking french. There were Africans with goatees and little mustaches, women with heavily penciled eyebrows, and baguettes and delicious ice cream parlors as far as the eye can see.

The food was definitely the highlight of the trip. I got amazing pizzas, carafe after carafe of wine, thai food, hibiscus and ginger juice, baguettes and croissants with cheese for breakfast, and cappuccino. I actually drank coffee- gave me the shakes though, which paired with dehydration wasn’t the best. It’s interesting, though, that all of these places were filled with Togolese or Beninian people. In Ghana, most Ghanaians eat the traditional African food, and international restaurants and foods tend to be the pastimes of the expatriates or travelers. There was definitely a feel of a more worldly culture on both Lome and Cotonou, which is even more interesting when you also notice that more people were wearing traditional style dress and African cloth. Basically, it’s a very confusing situation.

I almost got myself detained and my camera taken on the way across the border. I am such a fool. Being a nerdy tourist I wanted to take a picture of the welcome to togo and welcome to ghana archways. I was not thinking of the fact that these were government property. As a result, I was rushed by men in camo with ak47s telling me, “don’t ever do that again! We should confiscate your camera” Everyone was shouting and rushing at me. Luckily, I didn’t actually take the picture. Of course, this being Africa on the way back through the immigration officer didn’t try to attack me and confiscate my camera, but instead wanted my and my friend’s emails and contact numbers for the u.s. Ridiculous. We also saw a group of refugees from niger heading through the border. They literally stopped my breath. They were incredibly tall and thin, the women had all sorts of large hoops through their ears, everyone wore scarves and turbins, and they just looked incredibly exotic and foreign to me at that moment. It made me realize how prosperous ghana truly is in comparison to other parts of africa. It felt very much like home when I got back to accra.

We did rough it for a night while traveling. The above descriptions were the most posh part of the trip. We spent one night on the island of Togoville. It is an old slave market, and an all and all incredibly picturesque and beautiful town. The pope visited a few years ago, there’s a giant german built cathedral on the island, and the villagers were all proud to show his oversized blue and white pirogue. We thought there was a hostel there, but in retrospect I really think we were in someone’s house. They had us wait in a “reception room”, which consisted of putting on a tv for an hour and having us watch ridiculous rap and high lige music videos from Cote di Viore. They then threw a mattress into two empty rooms for both sets of us to sleep on. The bathroom was a small room with a dirt floor. There were three lovely, huge, exotic looking spiders in our room. They won’t crawl on us, I reassured my friend, but surely enough just as we fell asleep one crawled over my leg and up my friend’s thigh. We hardly slept at all that night. They made us pay a ton for everything, and we were very much at their mercy seeing as we didn’t want to offend them, and were stuck on the island for the moment. The women and children were lovely and very sweet, however. They got us pasta and fish stew for dinner, with tangerines for desert. It was definitely a very memorable experience.

Traveling back was a hassle. I think that the military in Ghana must have been looking for someone, because we went through five different checkpoints. These are when your tro has to pull to the side of the road and the police officers check the truck and make everyone get off. Not the most fun when you are trying to keep up the small talk with the police officer who is asking all about the u.s. and telling you his distant relatives live in new jersey, while keeping an eye on the other officer who seems to be lingering too long near your bag. It was good to be back in Ghana, though, and have people constantly smiling and talking to / hastling you. I think that I like ghana better than togo and benin for this reason, people didn’t shout at you or hastle you as much in these countries. I thought that this would make the experience more relaxing, but it was actually less engaging and felt more like the western world. People were too busy or composed to pay you too much notice.

But, impending adventures aside, lately I have been being a student and secretary. I attended the Ghana Aids Commission national convention for HIV/AIDS last week. It was really great. I came early and helped set up the swaa table- the convention was held in a huge, swanky, convention center the size of an airport. I then continued to assist in selling mushrooms, female condoms, and trying not to be creeped out by the giant replica of a female pelvis complete with baby portruding from between the thighs. This sounds ridiculous, but the placenta (shaped like a giant washplug and bright pink) kept falling out of the display, and i had to keep crawling under the table to find it and put it back in. This is part of my job… I felt like I was at a UN conference, however, because we were set up in a room with the congressional style row, platform tables and microphones. I also got to sit up front and center to see the vice president speak. He wasn’t particularly eloquent, but then again look at our president. It was an interesting mix of politicians and religious figures. The whole crowd itself was composed of men and women in traditional garb, and others in suits. It was an interesting representation of ghana old and new.

The end of the speeches came to a close with a group of lip synching hip-life artists. They were hilarious with huge chains and sunglasses. It was great to watch Vice President His Excellency Alihja Aimu look on as cheesy rappers danced and threw their fists up in the air in front of him.

I don’t think i’m cut out for politics. There was one really impressive stateswoman present, I think she was the head of reproductive health, she was incredibly well spoken and interesting. She was the highlight for me.

Auntie Jo and Otiema took me out for lunch after we finished clearing off the tables. I really love working with them. We laugh all day long, and Otiema and I attacked all of the leftover foods with a vengeance after the convention. Otiema is a really interesting woman. She graduated from U ghana and worked in finance, but now wants to start her own ngo adn work with development. She’s lived in South Africa as well with her family. It’s such a different living situation to imagine living at home when you’re thirty. Many women don’t leave their families unless they’re married. Quite different- from what I gather they see our family estrangement as cold. Maybe somewhat true.

My classes end next week, and I also have to start registering for classes back in VT. A lot has been on my mind as a result. I got to relax at the beach this past weekend which was quite nice. I met a man who has been traveling the world for twelve years. It is quite a romantic story. He got me somewhat fired up about India and Sri Lanka. Very exciting…

The organization is SWAA and it has 400 members both positive and negative for HIV. It is run entirely by women- maybe cause for its ability to get things done?- It is run by an executive board of 12 volunteers. They are all large, strong, take no shit, tough, wealthy ghanain women from all sorts of different occupations. They are really dedicated and inspiring. Some of the women who are positive are so young and beautiful, they have this incredible spirit that is both heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time.

As of yet, I have written up the questionnare for the SWAA miss positive leadership HIV pagent to be held later this month ( i’ll hopefully get a free ticket since they are 25 us dollars!) at the Canada High Commission. I’ve done a lot of secretarial work, but on Thurs. I’m going to a convention for AIDS ngos in Ghana. This will be a really good chance to see what other groups are doing, and one woman i’ve met is even going to take me to join in on a batik dying group that is composed of all hiv positive women. The cloth is then sold to raise money for treatment and counseling. I should also hopefully be getting started on a campaign to educate sex workers in accra about the female condom, condom usage in preventing the spread of hiv and stds, and safety precautions in general.

So, I think that this will be a good way to spend my time in Ghana now that classes are coming to a close in two weeks, and I now have even more free time than I did before. I really didn’t think that possible..

Oh, and the dancing comes in since the other secretary in the office- the only male- dances to highlife music with me in the reception room during breaks and serenades me with celine dion. She’s incredibly popular here for reasons that are totally and completely beyond me. I also realize that I dance four days a week for class, and often three nights a week going out during the week. I love the dancing here- I really do. It’s funny but I really think it will be something I’ll have to adjust to when I go home. There’s nothing like dancing under the palm trees to a live band with people refraining on either side, “I didn’t know obruni ladies could dance…hahahaha.” There are so many good dancers to learn from, who then make you look silly when you try to keep up or mimic their natural propensity towards rhythm. Then of course one finds themselves mildly accosted, but its all part of the experience.

I’ll start with the weekend before last. I decided to attempt to venture, once again, up to the volta region. I wanted to see the Wli waterfalls, and was determined to not let this one be as much of a semi-difficult experience as the last.  The volta region apparently has it out for me, however.

This time I traveled with my friend on Andrea and  we reached Hohoe late friday night. We made it to the village, and found our way to the Pacific Guest House- forever remember this name as that of a horrible establishment. They had no food for us, so the very friendly man who worked the front desk walked us to a restaurant where we could eat. The man’s name was Justice. There will be some irony here. My friend and I thought ourselves smart by deciding to leave our wallets locked in our hotel room. We thought it better to only bring a small amount of cash with us to the restaurant. We were walking at night through the town, and we didn’t know how common theft was in the area. We ate dinner and things were good. We got back to the hotel, brushed our teeth in the closet converted into a bathroom- literally a toilet placed in a closet-, and went to sleep. We payed the next morning and left. Nothing unusual at all, and we were excited for the falls.

Upon reaching the waterfalls, after being lead astray by some taxi drivers who assured us no tro-tros ran on days when there was no market, so we should  take a taxi for 10 cedis (yeah right) we made it to the falls and discovered that we were each missing 50 cedis. 50 cedis is the same as 50 u.s. dollars. Justice was the only one around. We were robbed by a man named justice, while we were at dinner. That was the only possibility, since it was the only time during our trip we were away from our bags. Justice was the only one who knew our stuff was still in the room, had keys, etc.

So, as you can image that was quite the buzz kill. We had a group of Wli falls workers ready to go break down the establishment with logs and machetes, however. That was at least some consolation. The waterfalls were beautiful, though. The hike was the most intense i’ve ever been on. It was almost completely vertical for three hours. Once we made it to the water falls up on the mountain, however, you could get in and swim. It was incredibly refreshing, and there were bats that lined both sides of the falls.  My friend almost killed me and mutinied on the way up, but she’s now happy to say that she conquered it.

We had to go back after the falls because we were out of money, but I think that it’s pretty inevitable that you are going to get robbed at some point traveling. I’m just glad it wasn’t on a dark road involving some dark, shifting, character emerging from the bush, and that my camera and cell phone are still in my possession. Hopefully he threw a good party- he definitely could with 100 cedis.

I have now also decided that I need to stop thinking about dividing and hiding my money in my bag, and actually start doing it. I always keep ten cedis down my shirt just in case, but having hid some money might have saved me from losing as much as I did.

You live and learn I guess.

But yes my solo mission! I decided that I needed to experience striking out on my own for adventure. I was ready, and to be honest wanted some alone time and the ability to see what traveling on my own would be like. I’ll give my verdict at the end. My trip was supposed to be a three day long trip up to the volta region. I ended up only staying one night at the place where I had made the reservation. It was an eco-lodge run by a ghanain-american rasta couple. It was beautiful and sat right beneath mount boso on lake volta. The water was very clean and one could swim in the lake amongst the mango trees in water that felt like it had been heated for a bath. When I arrived, however, I found that I was the only visitor there. This was not unusual for the place, and a group of five had just left the night before I arrived. The lodge was composed of five huts that lay right against the lake, and another series of five huts that housed the staff/ farmers. The staff were all very friendly ghanain rastas who cooked me dinner and taught me to play some ewe reggae music on the drums, while they sang. To set the scene, this all occured under the light of two lanterns, since the ecolodge did not have electricity. It was all in all very charming, except when it got really dark and I was alone in my bed with giant ginny hens landing on my roof at night. I also discovered that a giant spider the size of my hand (literally- i know i exaggerate insects, but this was no exaggeration) lived right at the base of my door. Who knows, I probably got some extra spider protein in my diet that night.

In the morning, one of the staff took me for a hike up the mountain, and into some surrounding villages. It was great. Truly, truly beautiful, and I got to see some super remote villages where they do not see white people often. Everyone was so friendly, and many women were painted with traditional white paint all over their bodies. I bought my guide some apperteshie (that awful 100 proof gin stuff again) and we continued on our way. We walked for a few hours, and of course my guide told me his life story and offered many proposals of marriage. But, my fo-fiance has become very convincing and quite impressive I must say!

So, i came back and swam in the lake. But, by that time I decided that I had seen enough of the place, and any more time there alone would probably prove to be boring. It was also pretty expensive for an eco-lodge. The trip down by taxi was also a lot, since the road- if one could call it that- is so potholed and rocky with deep, dirt ditches that the drivers don’t like to go down it. My guide had also found it his duty to be by my side and cater to my whim twenty-four seven. Not so relaxing…so I high tailed it out of there. I found a tro-tro heading back up the road, as a group of young, white, cricket players/volunteers made their way to the eco-lodge for the rest of the weekend. The drivers of the tro gave me a much cheaper price out, so I drove with them and they actually took me all the way to kpong. This made my journey much shorter, and I was able to take a “small car” from there all the way back to the University.

The ride itself was an interesting story. I got stopped in the middle of a funeral, the woman in the small car was screaming at a crack-pot medicinal soap seller about how the soap had given her an infection in her “cocoa farm”-genital region also refered to hear on a woman as her “jeruselum”, and when I was 15 minutes from the university I got caught in a rain storm. The rain turned the 15 minutes into an hour, adding an extra hour to my already five hour journey. Aaaaah! I crashed into my bed at the university at 7:30, this was of course after finding that the power was out again. I stumbled around for my light, only to turn it out again as I lay comatose in my bed until morning.

Phew, so throw into that weekend that I had met a lovely friend last week on my birthday who I really enjoyed spending time with this week, and had to say goodbye to on sunday night, and you have my crazy weekend that had me by the laces.

So, my verdict is that adventure is good and travel is hard because you meet interesting people for a brief spurt of time that then have to move on. I’m getting tougher I think…someone told me I seem like a german the other day because I know what I want. Hahaha- not so sure how to take that…