A rather African day...

Some days are more typically “African” than others, and this has to be one of them. My morning was spent showing a Ghanaian friend where to get nice Ghanaian presents (he was buying a wedding present for a Canadian friend) and then spent much of the afternoon with my seamstress as she fixed, then refixed, then adjusted my most recent dress.

However, the late afternoon was one of those “I live in Ghana” experiences!

I met Omar, a friend of Sister Marjorie’s. He started a project with Sr M and she wanted me to go along and see it and take some photos. Originally, we were to meet and ride there independently, but he couldn’t get a motorbike at short notice, so asked me to “pick” him. Thankfully I’ve had quite a bit of picking experience lately (thanks to all willing guinea pigs, both vols and brave guests!) so taking a rather small man on the back was not too big a deal.

We rode for what felt like ages along dirt tracks, over large bumps, through rocks, round bends, past villages and finally, on the home straight, came to a rather large puddle, with marshy bits on either side and no clear way through. As ever in Ghana, there was a friendly and willing passer-by to give advice on the best course of action. He recommended going round another route, which I think would’ve added several miles to our journey. So Omar decided to wait until some local men on bikes appeared, hoping they’d show us the best route through. They went across a less marshy grassy bit then back onto the road. After a brief conversation in Frafra, Omar decided he would ride my bike over a clearer patch and I would meet him on the other side. He attempted to do this, but got stuck in the mud just before reaching dry land. The two bicycle men quickly jumped off their bikes, into the mud and pushed him out effortlessly. I was looking for a suitable path to take, across some stepping stones perhaps, when one bicycle man came along, grabbed my arms, threw them round his neck and piggy-backed me right the way across to the other side. Very soon after, with me back in the driving seat, Omar pointed to a building up a small but very steep hill and across the grass – so somehow I managed to ride up the verge, across the grass and to the centre.

After seeing the project and speaking to some local people helping with some tree planting, we heard thunder rumbling in the distance and we set off back to Bolga, this time trying to miss the huge puddle by going a better route. Of course Omar had to “greet” and chat to all manner of people enroute as the thunder got louder and more threatening. At the moment in Ghana it is farming season, so there are huge tall fields full of corn, with only small dirt tracks running through them – I felt like a character in “Honey I Shrunk the Kid”! We managed to make it back to a road, very narrowly missing 3 stray chickens (the most stupid creature in Bolga), a small herd of sheep and one small child. All of a sudden, we seem to be in a village but are actually back in Bolga, Omar jumps off the bike and tells me to “follow that man” to take me back to the main road.

A slightly more successful day’s riding than Monday’s, where I got stage fright going through our local puddle, slowed down way too much and ended up IN the puddle, covered in mud, with the bike on top of my leg, and three ladies up to their ankles helping me out of the situation. It was a laugh or cry situation and thankfully laughing was the far better option!