"You Don't Eat the Fufu" -- Christmas Break 2020
Dec 21
Christmas break couldn't come fast enough. I think I had reached my capacity with being able to handle 6+ hours sitting in front of the computer teaching from home.
I had intentions of hitting Tanzania or another country since we had 2 weeks off, but border restrictions and the struggles of taking and paying for countless COVID tests deterred me. I traveled with my teacher friend / apartment neighbour Lauren to the eastern Volta region of Ghana instead.
This area is more rugged and is a less-traveled region for tourists. It boasts great hiking mountains, waterfalls, jungle, wildlife, natural resources, and village experiences.
We took a five hour car ride for hire from Accra to the township of Wli [vlee] and arrived for our 3-night stay at Wli Waterfall Inn with Mr. Vincent. We were the only tourists that night, and the other guest was a man from Togo. A few local friends of the owner wandered in and out for banter, food, and drinks.
Lauren and I grabbed Club beers and unwound. We wandered down the streets a bit into town where there was a station to check in for Wli Waterfalls. Locals gawked as us and kids asked for money. We made a plan to go the next day to the falls. We walked to the border with Togo -- where apparently you cannot take photos. Actually, you cannot take photos of any government building in Ghana either. We did however get some stunning sunset snaps. The feeling really reminded me of my time taking road trips in Senegal -- figuring out the system and the culture bit by bit, all moments interesting and stimulating.
Dec 22
Having some eggs and the standard white bread and butter packets, accompanied by Togolese coffee, Lauren and I started the hike up to Wli Waterfalls. Our teenage guide Charles warned of the 6 hours ahead, and kept a steady pace in his flip flops. It was straight up from the start, with tricky roots and rocks. We had views of farms below, and light brown mountain sides dried out from the rainy season in the direction of Togo. From afar we saw the steep drop of the upper waterfall. About 2 hours in, we reached the first fall, and were the only souls there. The plants hung on the walls of the 262 ft cliff that the waterfall descended from. The breeze from the powerful waterfall actually gave a chill to the air and I swam regardless (later to find out that mambas and crocodiles are often found in this water). From the upper falls, we hiked down STEEP trails to the lower falls, hoisting ourselves and grabbing onto any sturdy vine on the way. Bats swarmed the lower falls and a few more tourists were there (actually teaching friends of ours, small world).
That night I had banku (fermented corn with sour taste made into a fluffy dough to eat with your hands) and used it to scoop tilapia stew. It's really savoury and hit the spot at the time, but quite oily, and hard to eat often.
We played cards a bit and noticed a VW golf roll in, looking very shiny and out of place. A handsome man in a blue bubu (fancy outfit) strolled out. He introduced himself as Moses. After checking in, we talked about both living in Chicago -- which is his favorite city because he has a penthouse on Lake Michigan, which he could never afford in NY. He lives mostly in the US, but was taking a homecoming trip to Ghana. We told him about the bat caves we intended to hike to the next day and he was eager to join, even offering to drive us there.
Dec 23
Around 8:30 am, we had finished eating and Moses comes out in full safari get up: khaki pants, button down shirt, and wide brimmed hat. He asks us, "trainers or Timberlands?". I recommended trainers, but he ignored my advice.
Rolling up to the next tiny township, Moses asked where to go for the caves. He complained about always having to pay compensation to people for directions -- which literally no one sees as an obligation here expect him. A man jumped in the car and directed us. His eyes were droopy, his body thin. Moses commented that he smelled of akpeteshie (local gin) and the man said, "It's my medicine".
Akpeteshie man exchanged himself for another teenage boy to be our guide, whom we will call Daniel. This time. we took a road up to the cave. This road is commonly used for trade to Togo. The border is technically closed because of COVID, but you would never know with this road. Women carrying big baskets of goods on their heads outpaced us up this steep and rocky road -- it looked like even a 4X4 jeep would struggle up it. Apparently, people smuggle cars into Ghana from overseas and use this road to transport them (it's very expensive to bring a car by shipment into Accra's ports). Men zoomed up almost vertically on motorcycles, and Moses begged for a ride. They offered a ride in exchange for his Timberlands, but that was too steep a price. We paused several times on the 3/4 of the mile for hi. He said he had to quit smoking, but I think he had never actually walked uphill before.
A narrow passage through the bush indicated the start of the trail. It went almost immediately downhill, with the grade steeping abruptly. The machete came into use several times. It didn't take long for Moses to realize that it'd be more effective in the Daniels hands -- and so Daniel carried it the remainder of the time. The first cave had a nice ladder to peek up inside. The second cave we descended had to be entered into as it was part of the trail. Persons any wider than ourselves would not have it. The stench of guana was strong and the cobwebs coated my arms as I went through the darkness holding my breath.
Down, down, down we continued and I worried about climbing back up. Lauren slipped and earned a deep gash on a perfectly pointed rock. The wound was spilling blood and Charles knew to get some leaves, rubs them together, and stuck them in the hole of the wound to stop the bleeding, also tying my handkerchief around it. We all had a minor "oh fuck, is it broken?" moment, until Lauren could safely stand and keep chugging along.
This led into us having to scale across a vertical wall, and climb up into another cave. I was so grateful for my bouldering I had done in Seattle. We had to put our feet and hands in places that looked impossible to get grip. Lauren went ahead of me and was clearly terrified of the height. She was shaking and telling me to tell her family that she loved them. Charles thought we were so dramatic. I had been coached many a time by my friends in bouldering and I told Lauren where to put her feet and hands and keep going. Charles sandal fell down the cliff and he moved back down it and back up like a spider, passing me in both directions. I only looked forward as I went and scurried to reach a rope that would guide us up the cave, thankfully we could put our feet on pretty solid ground. Exiting, we had one more cliff's edge to worry about. I couldn't believe that Moses hardly broke a sweat on this portion in his big clunky boots, but was dying on the walk up the road.
Moses really pulled through for us. After paying the men managing the caves, he emerged from the car with coconuts and mangoes. He served each of us juice with a crack of the machete and we scraped the sweet nutty flesh from the inside. He taught us the real way to eat mangoes, which is to peel back the skin and bite into the flesh. And damn, they were the best mangoes I've ever had. Juice was flying everywhere.
That night a Ghanaian man who introduced himself as the chief of border security (or something of the like) in the region introduced himself to us. He dined with a few other dinner guests and seemed to have a lot to say. The men scrambled to the TV at 7 to watch the much anticipated coverage of the protest against the election. The NDC (National Democratic Party) was demonstrating to contest the election of the newly elected president, citing corruption and fraud in the voting system. There was a lot of passionate dialogue between the men about this (mostly in Twi and Nga so I couldn't get too much). But I think they were upset that people were contesting the election. I had to wonder if this was influenced by the allegations of fraud in the US elections..... Moses was missing all of this, likely already asleep after our adventurous day.
After the men turned their attention from the TV, Lauren went to switch it off. Border Security came over to poke fun at us eating anything other than Ghanaian food. He asked if we had been vaccinated. When we replied yes, he scoffed. He then asked if we had the COVID-19 vaccine. We replied in good humor and said "not yet, but hopefully soon". "We Ghanains," he said, "we do not get CoVID like you people because we eat the banku and the fufu. I eat the fufu and the hot soup...." And he went on and on. He scoffed at the idea of vaccines. I had the nerve to ask them if they had ever been vaccinated for anything and one man admitted to having the polio vaccine. Border Security had not replied directly to the question.
Dec 24
Early the next morning we set off for our next destination -- Tagbo Falls Lodge in Liate Wote about 1 hour away with our driver aptly named Agboblushie (also the name of the world's largest digital waste dump). We decided to make the most of the trip and stop off at Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary and a weaving village. Tafi Atome is a tiny town. Our guide was a thin young guy with glasses who was taking classes to become a nurse and would eventually like to be a doctor and take care of people in his village. We talked mostly about this on our walk through the bush and a couple friendly mono monkeys, with their little white faces and bellies, black and brown backs and limbs, came up for bananas. They perched themselves on our arms held out like branches and sucked up the bananas we purchased on the way.
The weaving village nearby clearly had not had visitors in quite a while as everyone there looked kind of surprised to see us. The weaving room features 8 or so weaving stations lined up on the wall, facing the exact same set up on the opposite wall. Feet upon feet of thread spread out from the machines, and this is eaten up as the weavers do their work by hand and petal. The lead weaver showed us the process and allowed us to sit down and weave a few threads through which took ages for us. The weavers were all men, and boys as young as 13 (not being in school due to COVID and thus making use of the time). We bought a few pieces of the kente cloth. These sashes can be sown together to make larger pieces for clothing mostly. There's a new design every year, and can symbolize things like rivers, stools of village chiefs, etc) .
We made it to Tagbo Falls Lodge just in time for lunch -- a whole host of vegetarian plates to choose from. This place was a step up from our last accommodations, but not overly fancy. Really clean and nicely decorated inside and out. It's owned by a Dutch-Ghanaian couple and partners closely with the community on education, business, and environmental projects. In the evening we went for a walk in Liate Wote, which took all of 10 minutes. But the people were more pleasant and warm than in Wli and we noticed an immediate distance. It was a busy, but quiet town. Goats baa-ing, toddlers wandering about aimlessly, the smell of fufu wafting.
Dec 25
On Christmas Day we felt lucky to have a guide available to take us to Mount Afadja - Ghana's highest peak. But the truth is, as our guide Kofi told us, that most Ghanains cannot afford to take the day off, at least not completely. We set off early up a steep trail that even had garbage cans. It was the most well-maintained trail I'd experienced yet in Ghana, as in no bush-whacking necessary. 45 minutes later, with soaking wet shirts, we made it to the top for a hazy view of the village below and the mountains leading into Togo. Kofi bush-whacked and we continued to the mountain beyond which is actually higher, but I guess it starts from a higher position anyways for an even better view. This part of the trail was full of bush and vine. I think I walked through ten or so spider webs face-first. Along the trail we passed farms of avocado trees, cacao groves, and coffee.
After resting a bit and perhaps a shower, Kofi came back to take us for Akpeteshi. The back of the lodge has a series of bush trails used by farmers. We passed many small tin and mud houses with yards of cacao seeds roasting in the sun. We came upon a clearing where some young boys were smoking the fallen over palm tree. It was tapped and will conintue to produce liquid for 45 days or so. They drained it into a container. This ferments for some time, how much I forget and is palm wine. It's slightly milky and sour. And I wouldn't say it's nice, but definitely more boozy that your average wine. People drink it at different stages for different effects. The fresh one "makes you strong" the men said, but it can give you an upset stomach because it continues to ferment in the stomach. We paid a few dollars for a a re0used gasoline container of palm wine.
This we brought to a soccer match that Kofi invited us to. Kofi is a relative of the chief of the village and therefore, he is well-known and works with youths organising sports, education programs, and church programs. He was definitely in a friendly mood, as it was Christmas and the palm wine started early. As is custom, Kofi got a few Guiness from the lodge and poured it in to mix with the palm wine.
The game was a 10 minute walk and we had people to feed. Kofi flagged down a motorcycle and told us to hop on -- the driver, me, Lauren, and Kofi with the jug of wine in tow. No one was too shocked to see us, as obronis come around this village, but they were humored for sure. It was packed. It was an upper high school aged team. One guy played on this mostly dirt pitch in just socks, most had cleats though. Kofi disappeared and brought back glasses. Big Ghanaian aunties stormed the pitch every time the ref made a bad call. Which was often it seemed -- I asked Kofi about this and he said that the ref was favoring the village where he was from. Not wanting to overstay our welcome, we walked back for Christmas dinner -- special jollof rice and chicken and shared the palm wine with more adventurous guests.
Dec 26
Our last stop of the tour was Meet Me There. It's a beach resort / ecolodge focused on community development and sustainability. It's also an obruni hangout as it's not super luxurious and your money does some good for the local community.
To get there, we descended from the hills and passed through the highest village in Ghana. Along the way we saw the wreckage of a car accident where a man who worked at our last lodge lost his leg. The sea breeze got a bit stronger as we edged towards to coast. The potholes bigger on the flat road. I tried to listen to podcasts and music, but it was no use over the reggae/afropop playing in our car.
Meet Me There is funky. There's a patio on the water for dining, a full bar, and a lagoon to swim in. This is actually the only place to swim here as the surf is too rough. I had an amazing dinner of coconut and carrot lime salad and fresh bony tilapia. We dunked into the lagoon. I tanned and either got a rash from the mountains or heat rash. My ass was on fire during our few days there. We walked the beach and I successfully got us lost in the heat trying to shortcut back to the village. It was still hot by the water. The long fishing boats lined the shore with all sorts of mystical names painted on their sides. A line of 20 or so en, women, and bigger children pulled these incredibly long lines of nets to catch hundreds, maybe thousands of not fully grown fish. These are white fish, all referred to as tilapia.
We befriended an American from LA and a Croatian living in Dubai, swapped travel stories and ideas for future trips. Other than that, a masseuse was creepy to Lauren and I, cute, but not entirely interesting. I took a boat tour of the lagoon and the mangroves where manatees and sea turtles live.. We saw wild black pigs/boars along the shores trotting through the villages. We even saw a giant black mamba in the water [they always seem to appear as people say that they don't exist here]. We stopped off for a single drink at another resort that was completely empty. The surrounding area was either very poor, or large resorts frequented by wealthy Ghanaians and Lebanese flying around on jet skis.
I looked forward to arriving back home in Accra and having a few days to keep developing my life and apartment living there. We came home to a coat of harmattan dust and a gecko in my sink, to be named Lolita.
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