Well, I woke u at about 5:30 in the morning and washed up before heading out into the nearly deserted streets of Tamale. I was surprised to see such little activity, but then again it was Saturday morning. I arrived at the station to fine it pretty quiet. I approached the ticket office and was quickly turned away and told to wait until around 7am to buy my ticket. I wasn't incredibly mad seeing as how I didn't have an alarm clock I couldn't really have slept longer.
I grabbed a seat on an old wooden bench where many people were sitting waiting for their bus to arrive to
Techiman. They were
surprised to see a white man sitting with them. I guess most white people tend to hang together when traveling. Soon after I sat down a familiar face showed up. I neglected to mention that I went back to the station the day before to inquire about the bus to Mole Park and got all the information I needed from a very friendly young man named
Alado.
I was under the impression when I got to Tamale that I would be taking an
OSA bus to the park, but soon learned that
OSA no longer existed. It was Metro Mass Transit that was now doing
OSA's old routes. Minor details of course. So I sat and talked with
Alado and his good friend
Lokman. We chatted for a long time and, like most Ghanaians I meet, they could not believe I was only 22 years old. They kept pointing people out to me and telling me that that individual was older than I was. Quite amusing stuff. They invited me to share breakfast with them at the station on the bench. We ate bread and eggs and I bought them the small bags of water that you see everywhere in Ghana. Afterwards I bought my ticket, bid them farewell, and made my way back to the Hotel to checkout.
After checking out I decided to explore as much of the city as I could before I had to return to the station to catch my bus to Mole Park. I first walked out to see the Catholic Cathedral and then made an unsuccessful attempt to find the Tamale Cultural Center where I thought I could buy some souvenirs. After taking a peak at the
Gulpka Na's Palace I decided to try and venture out to the brand new soccer stadium
built for the African Cup of Nations to be held in January 2008.
As I changed my course a teenage boy kept pace with me. He
eventually asked me where I was from. I answered him. And then he asked, "Do you use the
Bradt Travel guide to Ghana?" I couldn't believe it and stopped in my tracks. "Yeah, how do you know about it?" " I am in it!" , the boy responded. Sure enough
Soaliu Al-Hassan was in the book. He was one of the nephews of a man that owned a guesthouse by Mole Park renown for its great hospitality to travelers. Eventually, we got off the subject and got to the big question. Where was the stadium at?
He decided to join me on my quest and we walked for about 30 minutes at a fast pace, since my time to return to the station was drawing near. It was midday when we arrived at the construction site and there stood the beautiful, modern stadium built by Ghanaian and of course, Chinese workers. Without hesitation, we both pushed open the gate and made our way closer to the stadium until the security man shouted at us and
demanded payment. I waved and smiled as I said, "Thanks, we are okay!" We eventually walked up to a gate where a security man stood watch and I waited a m young companion spoke
Dagbani to the man. He told him that I was in the Peace Corps and that I really wanted to see the field before I left the country. He smiled and opened up the gate and allowed us to walk into the stadium. It was a beautiful sight to see, but I was more amazed that we were even able to
get in! I snapped a bunch of pictures walked onto the field and then glanced at my camera which told me that I needed to get back to the station.
After running past the angry man at the first gate we hired a taxi and got back to the station with time to spare. Almost as soon as I showed up I was being yelled a
by my friend
Alado whom I ate breakfast with all those hours ago. He invited me into a storage room where a bunch of men were gathered. They greeted me warmly and invited me into their discussion. We spent the next hour or so talking about global issues, life in the states, and the future of Ghana. I also learned that there was a large population of Lebanese people living in Tamale. Quite odd. Anyway, we had a great time chatting. We finally ended the conversation when my bus showed up about an hour late. I said my goodbyes and boarded the bus. Another window seat thank God! The bus we were on sat two on each side and then there were chairs that folded down in the middle of the aisle to fit a maximum number of people. Wow, it was packed!
There a number of Europeans on this bus; of course all of them headed to Mole Park as well. The bus moved quickly out of Tamale and I was headed back down the road that I had just come in on the day before. We got to the
Fulfusu junction and turned onto the worst road I have ever encountered in Ghana. No pavement, huge pot holes, and dust flying through the air for about 2 and a half hours. It was wonderful. The scenery however was gorgeous. The sun was heading towards
the horizon and the clouds loomed in the distance. We passed a number of humble villages full of round clay houses with thatched roofs, no sign of electricity or water wells. I was able to snap a few pictures while we sped by. I swore that our bus would fall to pieces before we got to
Damongo, the last major town before Mole Park.Luckily we made it there still intact. Almost all of our passengers got off their to meet friends, go home, or catch a
tro-
tro to somewhere else. I got off to stretch and before I knew it was greeted by a tall blond haired young woman. "You are American?", she asked. "I am indeed." Now God forgive me for not remembering her name, but she was a PhD student in African History at the University of Wisconsin. She had a special focus on Ghana and this was her first time there! As my good friend Matt Rochette would say, "HA!"
We got along well and conversed all the way to the entrance
to Mole Park. We talked mostly about Ghana, the people, the culture, the things that made us laugh, and about home. The next thing I knew we were at the ominous gates to the park, it looked like a scene from Jurassic Park, and a ranger had boarded the bus brandishing a rifle, he also came to collect money from us for a one time entrance fee. Without hesitation I handed over my money to the man with the gun. (He was there b/c no one is allowed to enter the park without a ranger accompanying them. The animals
roam quite free you know. No fences.)
It was dark out when we arrived at Mole Motel. I paid a ridiculous 70,
ooo cedis for a bed in a dormitory and made an order for dinner. After setting my things down in the dorm that had no lock on the door, I went straight to the bar to reward myself for a long day of traveling. There were tons of Europeans, or just a bunch of
Brunis as I saw it, mingling, eating, drinking, and struggling to make their orders in English to their Ghanaian servers. I sat alone at the bar and spoke with the few Ghanaian men there until i saw my American friend sitting alone at a large table.
I joined her there and immediately we began talking non-stop about school, Ghana, foreign policy in the US, global issues, and of course Harry Potter. A young European man had to come over to our table to ask us not to
say anymore because he was very behind in his reading. I laughed for a while a that on with the help of a couple
Gulder beers. We ate and we drank and finally after
almost everyone else had gone to bed we called it a night.
The next morning would be the safari walk at 6:30am. It was
then that I would have my date with the wild elephant!
