HoHoHoe

Sorry, sorry, sorry. I haven't written for two and a half weeks. I am very much alive, but busy and not around computers very often. Also, Blogger has been acting up.
I guess I'll start where I left off, which was 3 weekends ago, when I went to the Volta region (on the Eastern side of Ghana. It is 3-6 hours away, depending on the less-than-reliable modes of transportation) and I went with Dave, Michael, and Everett. Everett is from Alberta, Canada, Dave is from California, USA, and Michael is from Germany. I had been feeling a little constrained by the Calvin group dynamics, and it was a welcome respite from the same old people, places, and activities. Plus, it was great to be independent and do some things that deviated from the official plan.

We left on Friday, taking an STC bus (similar to a Greyhound) for 6 hours. It was a long trip, and we were sore and tired by the time that we arrived in Hohoe (pronounced ho-hoay). We settled at the Taste Lodge for the night, after a delicious meal of macaroni and cheese and beer, and then got up the next morning to catch a tro-tro to the falls.

Dawg man, those falls so high they be trippin off the chain. The highest falls in West Africa. And I was underneath them.

Then we went to the highest mountain in Ghana and climbed it. Well, really it was more like I crept my way to the top of a very steep, very large mountain, complaining the whole way, while three tall and athletic young men went ahead and left me with our Ghanaian guide. I felt like a dolt, sluggish and unfit, but finally I made it to the top in time for… the sunset. There’s the rub. See, we neglected to bring flashlights, and the descent was rocky and the path covered by jungle and ant nests. At one point I stopped to wait for the guys (the guide and I had gone before they had) and the guide went ahead for a flashlight. Ten minutes alone in the very dark jungle sounds ominous, but really was a lot of fun. I sang and made up stories, and nothing bothered me. Finally, we found the boys and made it to the bottom, covered with small scratches and ant bites.

That night I started to get sick with a fierce sore throat and went to bed early. The boys stayed up and drank beer, and decided to go “swimming” in a water storage tank. Dave cracked his head open when he got out, leaving him with a battle scar and a funny story to tell for weeks to come. Once again, my sickness was eclipsed by something that was actually serious. Oh, the inhumanity of fate.