What A Day That Was
Well, looks like my plan of updating more from Kumasi was a bust, between problems with Blogger and just general business, as Kumasi is a crazy crazy place. I'll probably summarise Kumasi in my next post (from Accra, as we leave Kumasi tomorrow after what feels like a really short time), but now I want to relate the madness that was yesterday.
The background: We had a free day, and a few excursions were suggested. Along with 6 others, I decided to go to lake Bosumtwe for what was intended as a chill day. It ended up being a bit... wilder than expected. It began with us taking an hour to get on a tro-tro out of Kumasi, as Jordan's host brother Kwame takes the longest possible route anywhere. The hour-long ride out to a town near the lake was simple enough, but when we got there... well, Jordan and Kate got put in a shared cab with some locals, while the other six of us took one more cab (four in back, two and a guitar in front). As soon as we got going, we were stopped by a guy asking for us to buy "tickets" - even as lots of cars went by without worry. We argued with them for quite a while, but made no headway other than learning that it's supposedly a toll for the maintainence of the lake, and our driver was in cahoots with them, so we had no choice but to pay the fifty cents. We then proceeded to drive at 80 kph down a breathtakingly gorgeous cliff, with no seatbelts or anything, which was intense, to say the least.
We got to Abono fine, and got sat down by a local bigman who talked it up as a tourist site and really just wanted a "contribution" from us, as the district apparently puts very little into that community. We decided to skip town rather than get involved in local politics, which worked well enough, and then we realised that the lake is huge and undeveloped. We went in search of a calm spot, and ended up being unable to progress at one point on land, so we got our feet wet and waded through half-meter-deep, refreshingly cool fresh water for maybe 40 minutes (at this point, I took off my pants and was very happy for it). We emerged at a tiny village with nothing more than a dozen or so houses and a central clearing, which was nice, but by then we began to get hungry. They told us that, at the next village, there was an old white man (?!) who sold food and drinks, so we pressed on.
At the next village, they told us the guy was further down the road, so kept going, and promptly ran across a very pretty, very secluded, very chill guesthouse called Rainbow Garden Village, appropriately staffed by mainly Rastas, with a big portrait of Marley over the bar. We stopped there, played Scrabble with a German set (James and I won on the back of "jive" on triple word score among others), had some beers and lunch, to an utterly absurd set of background music (Sinatra into Boyz 2 Men into hiplife into samba, for instance), and went swimming at their great beachfront, which was incredibly relaxing, particularly as we had our own guitar and they had one we borrowed so James and Jordan jammed a bit over the PA and got beers in exchange. We then realised we should get back, so we inquired about the tro-tro tey claimed to have.
It was really expensive at first, so we bargained them down by half, which seemed good, until we boarded the tro-tro. This wasn't a passenger tro-tro - it was a supply van, with no windows and plastic chairs in the back. Lawn chairs with the "except God" symbol, at that. We went for it, of course. It was the most absurd ride ever - six of us bouncing back and forth in plastic chairs, looking out the barred windows in the back and hanging on for our dear life. Several times we almost fell all over each other... and then my char broke. A leg just fell off, and I almost died - not from falling, but from laughter. Here I am in a windowless tro-tro, at a lake, not wearing my pants (I did have a bathing suit, of course), on a plastic chair that just broke. Completely absurd. I sat on the wheel well the rest of the way, and made sure to grab the chair leg as we left.
We proceeded to wait half an hour for a taxi, for no discernable reason (though it gave me a chance to put on my pants), and when a cab arrived we all took it. 8 people - three in front (Kate on Jordan and Elena's laps), four in back (Kristen lying across Lea, Kwame and me), and James in the trunk with the luggage (it was at least a hatchback). That almost topped the previous ride in absurdity, especially since we were speeding up a switchback trail on a cliff. When we got out, we boarded a tro-tro back to Kumasi that looked like it had been a hearse: it had a gloomy blue light and that pseudo-wooden piping on the top. It also had a TV, which didn't work. The ride was actually easy, and we finally got back to Kumasi around 8, with dazed looks on our faces after such a day. I'm not really sure what my host family thought when I walked in late carrying a chair leg, bit to me it signified the end of one of the most memorable days ever. Ever.
The background: We had a free day, and a few excursions were suggested. Along with 6 others, I decided to go to lake Bosumtwe for what was intended as a chill day. It ended up being a bit... wilder than expected. It began with us taking an hour to get on a tro-tro out of Kumasi, as Jordan's host brother Kwame takes the longest possible route anywhere. The hour-long ride out to a town near the lake was simple enough, but when we got there... well, Jordan and Kate got put in a shared cab with some locals, while the other six of us took one more cab (four in back, two and a guitar in front). As soon as we got going, we were stopped by a guy asking for us to buy "tickets" - even as lots of cars went by without worry. We argued with them for quite a while, but made no headway other than learning that it's supposedly a toll for the maintainence of the lake, and our driver was in cahoots with them, so we had no choice but to pay the fifty cents. We then proceeded to drive at 80 kph down a breathtakingly gorgeous cliff, with no seatbelts or anything, which was intense, to say the least.
We got to Abono fine, and got sat down by a local bigman who talked it up as a tourist site and really just wanted a "contribution" from us, as the district apparently puts very little into that community. We decided to skip town rather than get involved in local politics, which worked well enough, and then we realised that the lake is huge and undeveloped. We went in search of a calm spot, and ended up being unable to progress at one point on land, so we got our feet wet and waded through half-meter-deep, refreshingly cool fresh water for maybe 40 minutes (at this point, I took off my pants and was very happy for it). We emerged at a tiny village with nothing more than a dozen or so houses and a central clearing, which was nice, but by then we began to get hungry. They told us that, at the next village, there was an old white man (?!) who sold food and drinks, so we pressed on.
At the next village, they told us the guy was further down the road, so kept going, and promptly ran across a very pretty, very secluded, very chill guesthouse called Rainbow Garden Village, appropriately staffed by mainly Rastas, with a big portrait of Marley over the bar. We stopped there, played Scrabble with a German set (James and I won on the back of "jive" on triple word score among others), had some beers and lunch, to an utterly absurd set of background music (Sinatra into Boyz 2 Men into hiplife into samba, for instance), and went swimming at their great beachfront, which was incredibly relaxing, particularly as we had our own guitar and they had one we borrowed so James and Jordan jammed a bit over the PA and got beers in exchange. We then realised we should get back, so we inquired about the tro-tro tey claimed to have.
It was really expensive at first, so we bargained them down by half, which seemed good, until we boarded the tro-tro. This wasn't a passenger tro-tro - it was a supply van, with no windows and plastic chairs in the back. Lawn chairs with the "except God" symbol, at that. We went for it, of course. It was the most absurd ride ever - six of us bouncing back and forth in plastic chairs, looking out the barred windows in the back and hanging on for our dear life. Several times we almost fell all over each other... and then my char broke. A leg just fell off, and I almost died - not from falling, but from laughter. Here I am in a windowless tro-tro, at a lake, not wearing my pants (I did have a bathing suit, of course), on a plastic chair that just broke. Completely absurd. I sat on the wheel well the rest of the way, and made sure to grab the chair leg as we left.
We proceeded to wait half an hour for a taxi, for no discernable reason (though it gave me a chance to put on my pants), and when a cab arrived we all took it. 8 people - three in front (Kate on Jordan and Elena's laps), four in back (Kristen lying across Lea, Kwame and me), and James in the trunk with the luggage (it was at least a hatchback). That almost topped the previous ride in absurdity, especially since we were speeding up a switchback trail on a cliff. When we got out, we boarded a tro-tro back to Kumasi that looked like it had been a hearse: it had a gloomy blue light and that pseudo-wooden piping on the top. It also had a TV, which didn't work. The ride was actually easy, and we finally got back to Kumasi around 8, with dazed looks on our faces after such a day. I'm not really sure what my host family thought when I walked in late carrying a chair leg, bit to me it signified the end of one of the most memorable days ever. Ever.
posted by Sasha at 5:39 PM
3 Comments:
Hey man, it sure seems like you had an exciting day. I cant say the same since my days are quite the same, all I do is work and rest- not much of a life. Anyway man I have some very dissapointing news, I will not be able to come to Hvar this summer, since il be working until mid august and after that I have no idea where I will end up. Ana also asked me to tell (her internet died) you that she will not be coming to Hvar either, the reason being that she woulčd be alone.. Why? Well the other girls cant go since their parents only gave them a limited amount of money for their Maturalac so they practicaly have no way of getting to Hvar or the money to fully enjoy the experince. As for Milosz, well organising something with him is impossible, I rarley see him and when I do he is spaced out (not on any substances, just naturally I guess).
Therofore it seems the plan will not really work out and Im quite sorry about that, still the sutuation may change depending on my free days and depending on until when you will be on Hvar. Ana also asked me If you could buy a Ghana shirt (size L) for her...
When will you be in Zagreb so we can at least see eachother then? Take care man and respond when you have some time. Im glad you are enjoying your Ghana experience.
viks
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Very best site. Keep working. Will return in the near future.
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