Saturday evening, Mona and I got together to head to a party being held for a coworker who married over the holidays. There was a map of how to get there- so armed with the image of the map, we hopped in a taxi. (This is already starting to irritate me :) We go on the right road and were supposed to call a number once we reached the gas filling station. We went by something that looked to be in construction that we dismissed and then the taxi driver drove like a grandpa because he knew we’d only seen a map (but I still have no idea why going slow was going to make us change our minds... FYI it didn't).
Finally we found a petrol station and when we got there Mona called the number and I in the backseat told the driver to go ahead and turn around since we were supposed to turn on the road right before the gas station. He sat there- I told him 5 times and he blatantly ignored me- want to infuriate me- ignore me! Mona got off the phone and told him to do exactly as I had said and he kindly obliged her. He turned, started heading down a dirt road and it led to some houses and just ended. The man on the phone said he was on his way so we just tried to pay and get out.
Paying taxi drivers sucks! It flat sucks! So, unethical taxi driver, seeing two white girls says 6 cedi. I know immediately that is b.s. From the backseat I say I refuse to pay more than 4 cedi total. He finally agreed (I later found out it should have been 2 cedi, do Ghanaian’s have any idea that by trying to rip off/steal from the white people that they are giving their entire country a bad image, let alone themselves- I’m so tired of being given the Salminga (local word for white person) price. Granted I'm assuming one should think about something other than the right now and oneself.) Once the taxi was gone, I was much happier- I would rather be in the middle of nowhere than with that rude and racist jerk. (Yes, charging me more because of the color of my skin is racist).
So Mona gets a hold of the person who is supposed to pick us up and he says he is at the filling station. We are by a set of houses so we start cutting through a small field that is empty from bush burning toward the gas station. We get there and realize, the person we are supposed to meet isn’t there. We went much further than we were supposed to go. So Mona and I start walking along the side of the road as he is heading to come get us. I’m actually quite enjoying myself, the dust is down today and the heat has subsided- it’s a nice cool evening. Normally, it’s not a good idea to walk around after dark alone, and while not something we practice much, I felt pretty safe. While I stay firm that criminals are stupid, they at least know to converge where there is a decent population of white targets.
Being far enough out of town, I had a feeling the locals around us were going about their own lives and that this was not a hotspot for robbery. When the guy appeared, he was on his motobike, which only fits one other person. Mona offered to give me her stuff. I would be dropped offer first and he could pick her up afterwards. At that point I was feeling calm and safe and wanted to spare Mona who had been robbed the week before of walking along a street in the middle of nowhere. So I kept her cell phone to use the built-in light and she hopped on the back of the motobike.
So there I was, in the only shoes I had brought to Tamale (ankle-high hiking books- can’t say enough good things about them), with a little cash in my pocket and the light on the cell turned on. I kept up my fast American walking pace and really enjoyed the walk. It was very comfortable in the cool evening to walk around without being hot (a rarity), see the stars in their fullness (I spotted Orion’s belt) and be reminded of high school. When you live in a town of 668, it’s easy for all streets outside of city limits to be classified as ‘the middle of nowhere’ when in reality there are farms, houses and livestock all around and of course you know what belongs to whom. Oddly, I felt at home. A handful of vehicles, motobikes and bicycles went by no body really seemed to care. Once, someone said ‘good evening’ as I kept walking and they kept cycling- much less attention than when walking in town.
After a bit our friend returned and I hopped on the motobike- glad everyone was getting around safely. Right as we were to turn onto the dirt road toward the party, I saw to the left that we were elevated and that you could see Tamale below with it’s lights glowing. I was at the ‘Cemetery Hill’ of Tamale, maybe even a little higher.
We went for awhile down the dirt road and showed up at the party, which was obvious by all of the vehicles and motobikes parked outside. I got off the bike and started saying hi to other coworkers. The set up was quite nice. There was a little compound of around 3 houses with a courtyard in the middle, where tables and chairs had been set up. My boss had spent her evening and day cooking for the event and I kid you not- that was the best chicken I have had in Ghana! It was tender and juicy, two things I’ve learned not to expect when I order chicken. The mean of chicken, rice, cold slaw and a tomatoes salad was served. Because one has to be wary of fresh vegetables with skins, I haven’t had salad in Ghana, making the cold slaw taste even that much better!
We hung around for a few hours, ate, chatted with coworkers and danced to a few songs before heading out. I had taken an afternoon nap, which left me feeling sleepy so I had the group drop me off at my hotel on their way to a Lebanese restaurant and bar.
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