Take Me To The River...

Getting to Yeji at the top of Lake Volta was, as travel often is here, a chore. You'd think I'd be used to public transit in Ghana by now, but I keep getting surprised at how unbearable it can be. The first tro-tro to Salaga was one of the dustiest I'd ever been on. I probably shouldn't have changed into clean clothes before boarding. My mistake.

The next one to Makongo was like a cattle car on a train. The upside was I rode up front in the cab; the downside was that all of the engine fumes went straight into the cab. I was high as a kite and probably knocked off a few years of my life with teh damage done to my lungs. To add to the fun, the truck traveled at a speed somewhere between "stubborn donkey" and "three-legged cat". It was likely the worst public transportation that I have taken in West Africa. When I tried to take a picture of it, some people got very angry. I guess they didn't want the secret to get out: that they had the worst tro-tro in Ghana.

Finally, I rode the ferry from Makongo to Yeji, where the boat headed South towards Akosombo was going to dock. I helped a Burkinabe woman out with her ticket (it's hard to say "no" to a woman with a baby) and met some government workers and an Indian engineer who were driving around the country showing farmers how to maintain their new Indian-made tractors. When they heard it was my birthday, they offerred me scotch. I couldn't refuse, lest I would offend them (Sorry, Jesus).

The information in the book on the ferry was sketchy at best, but somehow I was on the right track, the people of Yeji assured me. It was set to leave at 3AM, but one man let me stay at his bar until it closed. I had fufu and realized that I finally had stopped being such a puss about eating chop. Yet another proof of me being comfortable in my environment, I suppose. I had a long, circular conversation with a very drunk man, which was mercifully broken by a phone call from Maleaha. Of all places!