Riverboat Fantasy pt. 2

When I woke up, I was surrounded by tall, green islands in the lake. Apparently, not all of the earth had been submerged by the damming of the river. The islands were beautiful, sitting on the water in the Harmattan mist. As we trolled by them, I noticed that there was nary a village or boat to be seen in these parts. It felt as if we could have been here millions of years ago and it would still look the same.

I spent much of the day reading, with an overcurious boy named Saddam (I think) looking over my shoulder. Seriously, I don't mind the odd glance, but a solid hour of staring kinda throws off my concentration. He also didn't mind when his elbow came into physical contact with me, like he was absorbing my lifeforce through osmosis. Evidently, there isn't much to do for a boy on a boat full of yams.

Not long before we came into port, I finished Contact. I'd already seen the movie, which I love anyways and of course the book was better than the movie. It's a bit outdated (written in 1985 and set in 1999 - with the Soviet Union still in the picture!), but all in all it was a very worthwhile read. At first, I wondered why the hell I, a travelling Canadian student, was reading a book about interstellar travel while sitting on a boat full of yams in Ghana. However, although the book is about talking to aliens, it's a story that reinforces the idea of the oneness of humanity as well as the Universe and God. Somehow, by that reasoning it became hyper-relevant.

By the end of the trip as the boat rolled into Akosombo in the late afternoon, I was beginning to get the feeling that I had more or less "conquered" Ghana, travel-wise. I'd seen every region and all of the major sights to see. Most of my future travel will be in small places or places that I've already been. I also started to get the feeling like it was time I started thinking about getting home.

Daniel, who incidentally worked at the Pita Pit at Whistler for a year, and I got off the boat via a passageway between stacked crates of yams. It was pretty surreal. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of yam, I shall fear no evil, for I have ketchup." We got a taxi with a Nigerian man who thought I was from Israel (Jewish misidentification #2 in nine days) and parted ways as Daniel headed for the Volta Region, I headed for home and our new generous friend Michael went somewhere else.

After that, I somehow got some quick tro-tros home (with a little help from kind strangers and a taxi driver,- many thanks) and even the useless, waste-of-cash International Programmes Office Bus picked me up to take me to ISH. It took the long route, but considering it was under a full moon, the university's white buildings were illuminated in blue and the red clay rooves in purple. I was suddenly struck by the idea that my campus could be beautiful!

Ah well... it's not home, but it will always be ISH, sweet ISH.