We arrived in Tamale at 8:30 AM the next day and toured the city a little bit. Not going to lie but there was really nothing to do/see in Tamale. And so Jack, Gustav and I made our way onto Larabanga via a 5 hour bus ride on a road infamous for its bumps and potholes. It really wasn't that bad though and we made our way to Larabanga around 7 PM and stayed at the Salia Brothers Guesthouse. We slept on the roof and there were so many stars. It was also extremely cold as well but was worth braving the cold in order to sleep under the stars and listen to the town's drums and the call to prayer in the morning (Northern Ghana is mostly Muslim).
The next morning we arose early in order to make the early morning safari walk in Mole National Park. We hired motorbikes and made our way to the park only to find out that we missed the morning walk by like 15 minutes and so we had to hang around until the afternoon walk that would be at 3:30 PM. Jack, Gustav and I just chilled at the Mole Motel, the only accommodation in the park. It overlooks a large watering hole that usually elephants and many other animals can be spotted. Unfortunately we did not see any at that time though.
The afternoon safari walk allowed us to see warthogs, bushbuck, baboons and kob. No elephants. But plenty of tracks though. Apparently this is not the best time to see elephants because it is not dry season and so they are not forced to come to this nearby watering hole and instead find water in the rest of the park's expanse (approximately 4840 square km). This just means that I will have to return to Ghana one day so that I may finally be able to see elephants. Even so the park was absolutely gorgeous and we were even able to camp there which actually was a bit frightening since we were awoken in the middle of the night by piercing baboon screams.
The next morning after a sunrise safari walk we were on our way to the Wechiau Hippo Sanctuary in the Upper West Region. We grabbed motorbikes from Mole back to Larabanga and only made it just in time to catch the MMT bus to Wa. Wa is the capital of the Bole District in the Upper West Region and has a population of approximately 80,000. It was a neat little town and was what the guide book described as "unimposing". I had been wearing shorts when we arrived there and I was starting to get some strange looks. I realized that no other female around me had pants or skirts/dresses that were above the knee and so I quickly changed so as not to offend the mostly Muslim population.
After hopping a trotro to Wechiau we then made our way to the Wechiau Hippo Sanctuary Tourist Centre where we rented bikes to make it to the sanctuary. It was an 18 km ride which would have been I think a little more fun if one the road was paved, and two if we hadn't biked at midday in the scorching sun/heat. Finally arriving, I was so tired I proceeded to nap. And nap. And nap. Until finally I realized that I was sick and was having trouble moving due to stiffness. I was also so incredibly HOT probably because I was running a 104 degree fever in the middle of the savanna. And let me tell you, we were literally in the middle of the savanna/i.e. nowhere. That first night was really rough and I thought at first I might feel better in the morning, when we were supposed to do our canoe safari/hippo viewing. But unfortunately this did not happen. I only proceeded to get worse and worse, not being able to take any food/water before throwing it back up and my fever and stiffness were unmanageable. Once my friends realized how serious my condition was they agreed that I needed to go to the clinic in Wechiau. My guide thought that I'd be able to bike the 18km back to Wechiau and I told him that he was for lack of a better word, "insane". Magically an air-conditioned SUV appeared and offered me a ride back to Wechiau/the clinic there.
Walking into the Wechiau Clinic was a strange experience. There was a long queue, about 50 people waiting to be treated, mostly mothers with their sick children. And what happens? They put the "oburoni" to the front of the line. I felt so incredibly bad and protested but they would not have it. I felt so incredibly guilty and tried to express in my face how sorry and guilty I felt for being put to the front of the line simply because I am white. It made me realize why some Ghanaians view "oburonis" in a negative light because of the special treatment we sometimes receive.
Meeting with the doctor and explaining my symptoms he then told me that they could not test for malaria because as he said "their lab man had traveled". He supposed that it was malaria and so just gave me the medicine for it. Only problem was I couldn't keep anything down, including the medicine.
Realizing I needed to get back to Accra to go to the University Hospital my friends and I traveled back to Wa (via trotro and with me throwing up the entire ride). We had booked bus tickets for Wednesday (this now being Tuesday) and so we stayed in the Seinu Hotel, the hotel we stayed at the first time in Wa. We didn't notice until the second time around but see that ripped off sign on the front door? Well that was sign from the Ghana Tourist Board stating that the hotel be shut down immediately due to faulty wiring, etc. It actually was a pretty decent hotel in my opinion but it was funny to see all the same.
On Wednesday our bus was to leave at 5:30 PM. This meant that I just slept on a bench the entire day at the O & A bus station while Jack and Gustav explored Wa. Not only was it hot (especially with a fever) but I was very delirious as well. Apparently (I don't remember this) but I called my mom at work and left a message describing/listing all the food I wanted when I got home. As you can tell, I was a little out of it and couldn't wait to be back in Accra or even home. Being sick I've realized definitely makes you homesick which only makes things worse.
The bus ride that proceeded was THE WORST NIGHT OF MY ENTIRE LIFE. One, the road is infamous for being bumpy and when you are nauseous and throwing up this does not bode well. On top of it the bus was freezing which was good for my feverish head but not for the chills in my body. Then from 7 PM to 4 AM they played Ghanaian movies on the TV so loudly. Ghanaian movies tend to be very dramatic and include a lot of fighting, yelling, rape scenes, etc. (think Spanish soap operas). Every time I fell asleep I was either awoken by the movies, throwing up or by the horrific nauseous feeling. The ride back to Accra was horrible and I hope I never have to go through that experience again.
We arrived at the Achimota bus station at around 5 AM. We then hailed a taxi to take us to the emergency room at the University Hospital across from campus. As we were driving through West Legon our cab started to slow down due to early morning traffic. I was sitting in the passenger seat with the window down and my wallet underneath my legs and one of my hands holding it. THEN (!) out of the bushes/hedge to the right leaps a man who reaches in to the cab and grabs my wallet. Fortunately I was holding on too tightly for him to get it and he gave up and ran back in to the bushes. So to recap: I am exhausted and on my way to the emergency room to be treated for malaria when I am almost robbed. Can things get any worse? Yes, yes they can.
In the emergency room with Gustav and Jack I am so exhausted and frazzled I am just sitting there. Then to our right and through the front door 4 men roll a young man in on a gurney. He looks unconscious and has no visible injury on him. They take him into the open hallway (5 ft in front of me) where the doctor pronounces him dead (checks his pulse and lifts his arm to watch it slap back onto the metal gurney). This is where I lost it. Not only am I irrationally thinking I am going to die (give me a break, I was really sick and exhausted and not thinking clearly) but to see this young man be pronounced dead in front of his family and friends and to see their grief was almost unbearable. I start crying hysterically because I don't think I can handle anymore. I have never seen a dead body outside a funeral and to be honest it scared me a bit. Seeing his family grieve too was especially difficult to bear. What is worse is they just left him there in the open hallway. There was no morgue. They don't even cover his body and so everyone in the emergency room waiting to be treated has to witness this dead body, reminding them of their own mortality. Finally once the family has arranged transport (a beat up pick-up truck) they wrap the young man in a "The Hulk" blanket and put him in the bed of the pickup truck with his family sitting around the edges. It was one of the saddest things I have ever seen and I know I will remember it forever.
After receiving injections and medications I made my way back to Pentagon (my dorm) and just rested. My Twi final was to be the next day but I was in no condition to study. Let's just say my Twi final the next day did not fare so well and fortunately Tulane is not going to count that class towards my GPA due to medical reasons.
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| Elephant tracks |
The next morning after a sunrise safari walk we were on our way to the Wechiau Hippo Sanctuary in the Upper West Region. We grabbed motorbikes from Mole back to Larabanga and only made it just in time to catch the MMT bus to Wa. Wa is the capital of the Bole District in the Upper West Region and has a population of approximately 80,000. It was a neat little town and was what the guide book described as "unimposing". I had been wearing shorts when we arrived there and I was starting to get some strange looks. I realized that no other female around me had pants or skirts/dresses that were above the knee and so I quickly changed so as not to offend the mostly Muslim population.
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| Jack in the Tourist Centre |
Walking into the Wechiau Clinic was a strange experience. There was a long queue, about 50 people waiting to be treated, mostly mothers with their sick children. And what happens? They put the "oburoni" to the front of the line. I felt so incredibly bad and protested but they would not have it. I felt so incredibly guilty and tried to express in my face how sorry and guilty I felt for being put to the front of the line simply because I am white. It made me realize why some Ghanaians view "oburonis" in a negative light because of the special treatment we sometimes receive.
Meeting with the doctor and explaining my symptoms he then told me that they could not test for malaria because as he said "their lab man had traveled". He supposed that it was malaria and so just gave me the medicine for it. Only problem was I couldn't keep anything down, including the medicine.
On Wednesday our bus was to leave at 5:30 PM. This meant that I just slept on a bench the entire day at the O & A bus station while Jack and Gustav explored Wa. Not only was it hot (especially with a fever) but I was very delirious as well. Apparently (I don't remember this) but I called my mom at work and left a message describing/listing all the food I wanted when I got home. As you can tell, I was a little out of it and couldn't wait to be back in Accra or even home. Being sick I've realized definitely makes you homesick which only makes things worse.
The bus ride that proceeded was THE WORST NIGHT OF MY ENTIRE LIFE. One, the road is infamous for being bumpy and when you are nauseous and throwing up this does not bode well. On top of it the bus was freezing which was good for my feverish head but not for the chills in my body. Then from 7 PM to 4 AM they played Ghanaian movies on the TV so loudly. Ghanaian movies tend to be very dramatic and include a lot of fighting, yelling, rape scenes, etc. (think Spanish soap operas). Every time I fell asleep I was either awoken by the movies, throwing up or by the horrific nauseous feeling. The ride back to Accra was horrible and I hope I never have to go through that experience again.
We arrived at the Achimota bus station at around 5 AM. We then hailed a taxi to take us to the emergency room at the University Hospital across from campus. As we were driving through West Legon our cab started to slow down due to early morning traffic. I was sitting in the passenger seat with the window down and my wallet underneath my legs and one of my hands holding it. THEN (!) out of the bushes/hedge to the right leaps a man who reaches in to the cab and grabs my wallet. Fortunately I was holding on too tightly for him to get it and he gave up and ran back in to the bushes. So to recap: I am exhausted and on my way to the emergency room to be treated for malaria when I am almost robbed. Can things get any worse? Yes, yes they can.
In the emergency room with Gustav and Jack I am so exhausted and frazzled I am just sitting there. Then to our right and through the front door 4 men roll a young man in on a gurney. He looks unconscious and has no visible injury on him. They take him into the open hallway (5 ft in front of me) where the doctor pronounces him dead (checks his pulse and lifts his arm to watch it slap back onto the metal gurney). This is where I lost it. Not only am I irrationally thinking I am going to die (give me a break, I was really sick and exhausted and not thinking clearly) but to see this young man be pronounced dead in front of his family and friends and to see their grief was almost unbearable. I start crying hysterically because I don't think I can handle anymore. I have never seen a dead body outside a funeral and to be honest it scared me a bit. Seeing his family grieve too was especially difficult to bear. What is worse is they just left him there in the open hallway. There was no morgue. They don't even cover his body and so everyone in the emergency room waiting to be treated has to witness this dead body, reminding them of their own mortality. Finally once the family has arranged transport (a beat up pick-up truck) they wrap the young man in a "The Hulk" blanket and put him in the bed of the pickup truck with his family sitting around the edges. It was one of the saddest things I have ever seen and I know I will remember it forever.
After receiving injections and medications I made my way back to Pentagon (my dorm) and just rested. My Twi final was to be the next day but I was in no condition to study. Let's just say my Twi final the next day did not fare so well and fortunately Tulane is not going to count that class towards my GPA due to medical reasons.
And so concludes my trip to the North. Overall I would say it was a great experience (besides contracting malaria) but it allowed me to see sights I never would have seen near Accra and taught me a lot of life lessons. I know that one day I will return and finally get to see the elephants and hippos that I had planned to see in the first place and this time I will do the trip right (i.e. not get malaria/sick during the trip). See you soon. Nante yie.
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