"The Recap" - August 28th

Once again, after waking several times in the night to check the time on my camera, I arose to head to the station at around 3:45am. This time the streets were truly deserted. Nothing was moving.

I arrived at the station to find a fairly large, but silent crowd of people waiting for the bus. I stood alone for a while under a tree since it was beginning to drizzle. A teenage boy approached me and started a conversation. He spoke like a Rasta-man and mostly talked about rap music from the States. However, I did manage to learn that he was on his way to Wa to stay with his family after having worked in Tamale for a year. Although, I was semi-conscious it was a good way to pass the time before boarding the bus. It is a long process to fill the bus with people, especially when they are bringing many things with them. We didn't get out of the station until nearly 6am!

My seat was at the back of the bus where the bumps are felt the worst. But I would soon get a break from that since our bus broke down just on the outskirts of the city. I couldn't believe it. Luckily, we came to a halt right in front of a mechanic who worked on large vehicles and he had us back on the road in about 30minutes.

I knew what was coming though and I wasn't looking forward to it. I don't think anyone else was either since the bus was filed to capacity and there were people standing near the back door next to my row of seats. To get to Wa from Tamale oyu have to take the same road to Mole except you have to take it all the way across the region. It was an unpaved and brutal road all the way to the town of Sawla, nearly four or five hours away.

Shortly after we began our journey down the road from hell, a man stood up in the front of the bus and began speaking, shouting, to everyone. I took off my headphones and listened. The man was one of the Reverend Doctors that you often hear about here in Ghana. He was selling some of his herbal remedies as well as preaching. He quoted the Bible to strengthen his sales pitch. At first I was annoyed and angry with the man for pretending like he was bestowing blessings on people and all the while making a profit, but then I was just laughing.

The bus was rattling so loud as we journeyed down the road that the man could barely be heard from the back of the bus where I sat. The man just started yelling louder and louder, putting emphasis on certain words. Still, all I could hear were loud shouts. I was a hilarious scene, but I was the only one laughing. I tried to hide it and bury my face in my hands, but the people around me wanted to know what was so funny. I explained it and then we all started laughing and didn't stop until he did.

More people tried to board the bus when we arrived at Damongo, but as the bus doors closed one man who had already been standing the whole way wouldn't allow his space to be further partitioned. He refused to grant the new passenger space and instead pushed the man into such an uncomfortable position that his face was pushed against the door and his hat was falling of his head. Everyone laughed at the sight of this struggle. Eventually the man gave up and got off the bus to even more laughter.

The rest of the journey was no laugh though. The other half of the road that I had yet to journey on was even worse than the first half. There was no sign of construction here and the villages along the way appeared more and more destitute. Somehow I managed to fall asleep for a while an not long after I awoke we were at Sawla. From there on we were driving on paved roads.

As we continued I noticed another change in the style of houses around me. The roofs here were flat and made of clay and mud as were all of the walls. I also saw that many of the Mosques in the villages were made of mud and sticks. They were very interesting structures to behold.

I spent a short time studying the city map of Wa so that I could make my way around town when I arrived, but there was a problem. When we finally did arrive in Wa it was raining. I quickly hired a taxi and made the decision to stay the the Numbu Hotel. The driver laughed when he heard me and said that his father owned the Hotel. I felt good about this discovery, but I didn't know what lay in store. The hotel was sort of off the beaten path and looked in decent condition. I enetered and was shown to my room by a beautiful but rude woman he demanded 65,ooo for the night. I was too tired to argue so I just paid and then went back to the room I entered through where there were a couple of men sitting there watching television. One man was quite drunk which was alarming seeing as it was right around 1pm.

The drunk man told me that I was welcome and soon began a conversation with me. HE WAS THE OWNER! I will say this now that in my two days in Wa I didn't see that man drink anything besides alcohol. I wondered how this man could possibly have the money to run this Hotel when all he does is drink. I felt sick to my stomach when I thought about the decision I had made to stay there, but it was too late to back out now. I wasn't sure if the place was even safe to stay at.

The drunk manager invited me to eat lunch with them and seeing as how I don't want to see the drunk manager to be an upset drunk manager I said yes. We ate tezet, which is a food common ot the Upper West and Northern Regions. It was a shared meal. Everyone sticks their hands into the tezet and then dips the tezet in the sauce. It wasn't the most repulsive thing I have ever witnessed, but it was hard to swallow down the food. I nearly lost it though when the drunk manager skipped the tezet and cupped his hand into the slimy sauce and brought it to his mouth. The slime dripped down his chin and it was at tha time that I noticed all of the flies that were swarming us as we ate. I gagged on my food and nearly threw up everywhere, but I held strong and can still maintain that I have a stomach like the rock of Gibraltar!

After I ate I decided to escape the Hotel and the awful manager to see some of the town. People were very friendly and didn't take much notice of my presence, which is always preferred to being stared and shouted at everywhere you go knowing that each movement you make is watched and judged. For the most part Wa is a sleepy town. Traffic wasn't bad and the streets were not overcrowded with market women or kiosks. I walked all the way back to the station where I figured out how I would travel back to Sunyani from Wa. After doing that I slowly made my way back to the Hotel and went immediately to my room.

I couldn't help but to put myself in a different place. A safe, comfortable, familiar place. I put my headphones on and listened to Sufjan Stevens and thought of my good friends that I missed so very much. Eventually, I slept for a long time.