On Tuesday I went to the Bolgatanga Municipal office but only for a short time, again doing what I needed and wanted to do and getting back to the office without getting wet.
Wednesday I stayed in the office and did some updates to the computers here. Mostly I stayed around to have lunch with the two volunteers in Sandema who are getting ready to return home. It was still a busy day.
Thursday I travelled to Sandema. They had brought back four computers from Accra. They were the last to pick their computers so got the remaining keyboards, and there were only two. Since I knew this I brought an extra keyboard with me, strapped to the back of my motorbike. I didn’t think about the result of riding across the rough road to get to Sandema, so was a little surprised to find out that I had lost 10 keys during the trip. It was still good that I brought that keyboard because the ones they had been given did not fit any of the computers. Even with the missing keys I was able to do what I needed to do and headed home about mid-afternoon.
On the way home I stopped in Navrongo to do the work that I had planned to do on Friday morning. When I stopped there, I saw that I had lost another dozen keys. That keyboard is now useless I would say. And stopping in Navrongo on Thursday was a good thing because Friday it rained while I would have been travelling.
Saturday I decided to do something different and so I got up early and went for a motorbike ride. I went through Wulugu, Walewale, Langbinsi, Gambaga, Nalirugu, Nakpanduri, Bawku, Zebilla and back home. This traversed the entire Gambaga escarpment. The ride took about 6 hours and covered almost 300 kilometres. The morning started off cool and pleasant. It wasn’t until I stopped in Bawku around noon that I realized how warm it now was, and that my arms and legs were a little sunburned. Probably more than half of the trip was on dirt roads or mud track.
This is a picture of a house that I saw as I was leaving Nalirugu. The design of the plaster is what caught my attention and I thought it was worth a picture. I saw one more house, a little later, with the same design. Other than that there is nothing spectacular about the house.
Leaving Nalirugu I had to cross a stream. I came down a hill and saw that the only bridge was barricaded and I didn’t see an alternate route. Someone passed on a bicycle and said it would be okay to cross. He went and looked more closely and assured me it was alright. I wish now that I had taken a picture of that bridge. It was still connected to the road surface, at least half of it was. The other half was an open hole with the surface slanting down towards it. I thought about it and didn’t see an alternative so made the decision to go for it. It really wasn’t as bad as it seemed like it would be as I looked at it and thought about sliding off into the ravine below.
Nakpanduri is the highest point on the escarpment. This is a picture taken on the road as it begins its descent to the valley below. It is a pretty dramatic descent and a nice view.
There were times during my ride that I felt that I could have been anywhere, and it didn’t really feel like I was in West Africa. It was an enjoyable experience, and one that was probably better now while it is cooler than during the hot dry season. It is interesting to see that the temperatures at home in Ontario are currently higher than what I am experiencing here in Bolga. Last night, in fact, the temperature went below 26C overnight and I slept without a fan.
I decided after this trip that I am a better traveller than a sightseer. I enjoy going to points of interest and seeing what is there. But I probably enjoy more the travel to get there. On this journey I enjoyed moving and seeing the land and how people live and work, and I was happy just to keep on going without stopping.
I did take a picture of farming in Africa but the picture does not do justice to what I felt as I saw it. Picture a short-handled hoe that requires the user to bend double or more at the waist to use. Picture a row of corn or millet that stretches for ½ km or more, and a field that covers more than a hectare. With that hoe and in that posture, the farmer will weed the field by scraping away the weeds and piling dirt around the corn or millet stalks. It seems like an unending task. I thought back to my assignments as a young boy in the small backyard garden at home. I did not like that task and found some way to do it poorly enough that I wasn’t asked too often. I think I ended up pulling the vegetable plants instead of the weeds, perhaps my subconscious finding a way to get out of the task. I hope that you can imagine this because the picture just doesn’t show it well.
I have written enough for this time and so I will close. There are more stories to tell, but not this time.
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