Two Trips to Lake Volta

Lake Volta, the world’s largest manmade lake lies in the eastern half of Ghana in a region aptly named the Volta Region. I am not sure what came first, the region or the lake. Since I was spending the weekend in Koforidua and our attempts to meet with the Red Cross staff over the weekend had failed, I proposed that Bernard, Augustine, Mary and I check it out and see the Akosombo dam that is responsible for creating the lake. I proposed this on Saturday after our hike to the Umbrella Rock and Bernard looked a little nonplussed. When we returned to Mary’s after the hike, Bernard was still suggesting that we spend the day on Sunday resting instead of sightseeing. I maturely said that if we did not go to the lake “I would be very angry.” My obstinance or perseverance, whichever perspective you choose, prevailed and we agreed to meet at 10am the next day to venture off to the new region.

The drive out to the lake was quite interesting. It included steep ascents over lush mountains and speedy straight-aways through mudbrick villages with palm frond roofs. Despite the few community buildings in these villages, every one had a church. Several of the homes were perfectly circular structures with conical roofs. I was told that this is a very common in the northern part of the country and these structures stay very cool. The homeowners don’t even need a fan to keep cool in the 40oC temperatures. One town on top of the largest mountain we went over had very large homes and seemed to be where the wealthy individuals congregated. There were mansion-style homes built overlooking the valleys below. I have now spent quite a few hours looking out of the windows of World Ed’s Ford Explorer and I have to say that I never grow tired of the landscape here. Between the villages, the roadside vendors, the trees, the massive ant colonies, the people carrying various items atop their heads; it is all captivating.

As we barreled at 80mph down the one lane road which was described as “very good” to me, I definitely had the sensation of being on a ride at Six Flags. Over a few bumps we definitely caught air. I wasn’t sure what the rush was, but several rickety tro-tros passed us, so I guess everyone drives that way. By the way, in this part of the country, the tro-tros are chock full of people and produce. I am pretty sure they spend several hours in the car and I saw one woman with her lap full of cassavas. Her arms were over her head holding onto the vegetables and she was resting her head on them. I couldn’t imagine sitting like that for any amount of time. I noticed that the rest of the vehicle was similarly filled and it was difficult to tell where people were sitting and where produce sat because it looked like every available space was filled with one or the other.

Ghana is in its dry season right now. I have seen no rain in Accra since I arrived, which may explain the lack of running, which by the way I have had for the last 24 hours. Very exciting! Anyways, the dry season is great for sightseeing in Mole National Park and the Wechiau Hippo Sanctuary because the animals head to the watering holes. The dry season is bad for sightseeing at waterfalls and dams. Water doesn’t seem to be moving much in those areas. We finally arrived at a point where we could see the dam in the distance. The damming of this lake provides much of the country with its power and water supply. I asked to stop and take a picture and then tried to imagine what it would look like with water flowing through it.

We arrived at the dock of a boat that takes passengers on a four hour journey around the lake. There were several vendors there, but the boat looked long departed. The sign said that the boat departs at 11 and it was not 12:30. Mary turned to me and said, “Yes, we need to leave much earlier if we want to catch the boat.” I hadn’t really been aware that the boat was an option and I certainly would have been willing to leave earlier. I think this goes with the other issues with timing that I have encountered here. There is little planning ahead to ensure that things happen the way you want them to happen. In Koforidua we drove around at 9 o’clock at night trying to find a vacant hotel for a trip that was planned well in advance. Bernard laughed dismissively when I asked whether we could have called ahead to make a reservation. After the hotel debacle, our arriving an hour and a half late for a boat wasn’t all that surprising. We spent the next 30 minutes shopping at the tables of the vendors there.

Women here wear earrings everyday. It seems that many have their ears pierced when they are babies and from then on never stop wearing earrings. This may also be reinforced by the fact that girls must keep their heads shaved throughout high school. The earrings serve as a permissible way to hold onto their femininity throughout those aesthetically masculine years. I rarely wear earrings. I have sensitive lobes that seem to react to cheap earrings. It is one of those things that make me high maintenance even though I don’t mean to be. My lack of earring wearing or any jewelry of that matter seems to be rather puzzling to several of the Ghanaians I have met. When we started looking at the jewelry for sale at one table, Mary got very excited to adorn me with Ghanaian jewelry. She has three sons, so she doesn’t get to shop like this very often. I was very grateful and humored her for a bit as she added more and more accessories. The funniest part was when I put on a pair of very large dangly earrings there were gasps and cheers of approval from everyone. I felt a bit clownish with the anklet, the bracelet, the necklace and the earrings all on, but everyone said how nice it looked. It was also very nice to Mary to want me to look pretty. She was cute too and bought the same anklet and bracelet so we could match.

From the dock we drove to see the country’s tallest bridge. It is a traditional suspension bridge that crosses Lake Volta. Each car pays 20 cents to cross. Before seeing it, I had asked if we could walk across it and was told “no, no, no, it is way too far.” It was at best a quarter of a mile. Augustine and Bernard waited on one side, while Mary and I walked across. It is an impressive structure, especially considering how primitive much of the surrounding structures are in comparison. The bridge shakes quite a bit when large vehicles cross it. A group of school kids walked around us totally unconcerned by the shaking. The view from the bridge was quite beautiful. The water of the lake is a deep blue and the intense equatorial sun sparkles brightly on it. Small islands dot the middle of the lake. Other than a few small villages, one created from the bridge and the others possibly fishing villages, the land surrounding the lake was covered in trees. The air is so clean in this part of the country. I wanted to take enough deep breaths to clear out my lungs from the months of Accra air. Despite it being Sunday, a few fishermen were out looking for the daily catch. They fish in canoes that look like they were carved out of a single tree trunk and are incredible unstable.

Augustine and Bernard met us at the other side of the bridge and transported us to a restaurant that sits at the very edge of the lake. Our chairs were literally on the side of the lake. Mine hit the chain link fence that separated me from the water. My polarized sunglasses helped us to see all of the fish swimming around. There was a branch looking thing stuck to the table cloth and rubbing against my leg. It didn’t bother me until I saw it moving. At which point I jumped up and screamed. I think I nearly gave the waiter a heart attack. The bug fell to the ground still moving and had to be one of the strangest things I have ever seen alive. Mary is great. She’s fun and so kind, but she’s a little into the peer pressure in drinking alcohol. In this heat, I rarely feel the need to booze. I feel like I can never get enough water in me, so a heavy bitter Guinness is not really what I crave. Plus, it is usually 10 in the morning when she first asks me if I want a beer. I acquiesced this time. It was also a tolerable 2 or so in the afternoon. No Guinness though, I chose the light beer made here. It was pretty paradise like just sitting there listening to little waves lap against the land, relaxing with no one around and putting my feet up on the chair. We could look across the water at an island that had a boat pulled up on shore. A fisherman passed back and forth several times. It was one of those perfect moments that you want to bottle up and take home with you.

We ordered some banku for lunch and I was sweating through the spicy food the entire time I was eating of course. It never ceases to surprise me how extreme in spiciness the food is here. The banku dough is incredibly bland and difficult to eat alone, but when you dip it in a little of the pepper sauce it is like there is a small explosion in your mouth. My lips look like I am forever using Lip Venom here and they feel like it too. Despite my physical reaction to the food, it is really delicious and I am sad that I am going to have to say goodbye to all of these new dishes. While we were sitting and eating, one fisherman came over to chat with us. I asked him if he caught anything that day and he whipped out what looked like a gigantic shrimp or a very small lobster. I am guessing it is more the former since it didn’t have lobster-like claws, but they call it lobster here, so perhaps it is some hybrid of the two. He hung out for a bit and then took some Night Train in a water bottle to go and headed off in search of more fish. I was a little nervous with him drinking in the wobbly vessel, but no one else seemed concerned. One other interesting thing about the boat is that the paddles have circular paddles at the end instead of the rectangular ones we are used to. We headed back to Koforidua after our late lunch to rest up for the big week ahead.

Upon leaving Koforidua after the week of peer educator training, Bernard suggested that we another section of the lake and head through Tema on our way back so that I could see more of the country. I was so excited! Of course, I had a touch a food poisoning that morning from an egg salad sandwich I had eaten the night before. It was the third one I had eaten at one of the local restaurants, but there was something about this one that was different. You know you love a country though when you are nauseated and still looking forward to spending hours in the car looking out the window. We first returned to Boti falls to show Mordecai, who had arrived in the middle of the week to teach the girls about basic business skills, the waterfall. I was so hoping that there would be water coming down this time since it had rained over the course of the week. Even though I wasn’t feeling great, I figured I could leisurely descend the 250 steps and then return at a similar pace. The way down wasn’t bad at all and we saw more butterflies which I took as a good omen for the journey. Sure enough, as we got closer we could hear that water was coming down! The beach area was pretty strewn with plant debris. It looked like perhaps the rain did quite a number at the base of the water. The old-fashioned fishing net had been crushed and washed ashore. There were tadpoles all along the border of the water too. The Twi word for tadpole literally translates to “frog in the making” but I can’t really remember what the word is anymore. The waterfall was so beautiful. Things like waterfalls and butterflies seem so magical in a world that is full of logical things like evolution and globalization. In fourth grade, my science teacher tricked me one of those faucets that is not attached to anything but is miraculously pouring out water into a bucket. He said to me, “we don’t know where it is coming from but we need to stop it.” My eagerness to help withstood the confused awe I felt for the faucet. I eventually figured out the trick, but looking at waterfalls brings me back to that moment before you know the trick and can just stand in awe at something that seems to make so little sense. After about 10 minutes of awing and photo snapping, I felt ill again and decided that it would be better for me to get sick in the parking lot rather than on the side of the falls. It might take some of the magic out of for Mordecai and Augustine and the couple near us who seemed to be having a romantic moment.

At the top, I was fine and just needed to catch my breath. The nausea seemed to dissipate and I sat next to Bernard who was chatting with a few girls who seem to be potential candidates should our program be able to expand into the rural areas near Koforidua. They start having children in these areas at 15 and have very little economic opportunities. Mary had given one girl $10 the Saturday before and amazingly enough, the girl had managed to start a business selling banku. She now sells out everyday and is able to live off of the money that she makes. Most of us think of microfinance as $1,000 or even $100, but these girls can make something happen with considerably less. Mary hadn’t specified what the girl should do with the money. She came up with the business on her own and invested it in that instead of using it for other things that may seem necessary at the time.

We headed off to Akuse dam which is the portion of the dam project that generates all of the electricity for the region. I had a breakfast drink called koko, which is a ginger infused ground millet concoction. It is sweetened with sugar and is really good and I figured the ginger would be nice on my stomach. I still struggle with eating and drinking things from a plastic bag, however, and managed to pour a bit of it down the front of my black shirt which was an unfortunate way to have to spend the rest of the day. Luckily, I was in the back seat and no one seemed to care. As we entered into small villages, I got exuberant waves and shouts of “obruni” from smiling children. They are so cute and it makes them so happy when I wave back. It is probably the least amount of effort I have ever had to put into entertaining children before.

Once we arrived at the imposing dam structure, we entered the small reception area. There were large signs everywhere stating that due to security concerns, individuals cannot walk around the premises unattended. I assumed that that did not bode well for our seeing much of the dam. We were told though that while there is someone who takes groups on tours of the dam and he is supposed to be working today, he had to leave town to attend a funeral. When we asked if someone else could take us around, we were told that taking groups around is the other man’s job and we would need to come back another day. While Mordecai and Bernard were appeased by the response, I seethed inside. I realized that my frustration at their unwillingness to show us around and flippant attitude toward our returning to this remote area of Ghana is really just my innate Western sense of entitlement. Bernard and Mordecai were not bothered in the same way that I was because they did not feel that the dam was obligated to show us around. I on the other hand, from a culture where the customer is always right was annoyed because I expected to be catered to in the same way that parks, restaurants and stores cater to customers in the US. Of course, my mini inner turmoil quickly dissipated when I stood by the side of the lake and looked out at the scenery. It was very peaceful, with birds flying from little islands in the center of the lake back to the mainland. A few fishermen were out on the lake. The other thing that eased my mind was that you could pretty much see everything you needed to see for the dam and Bernard had recently been there, so he was able to explain some of the mechanisms behind the energy generating system. I can’t really recall it very well, but it has something to do with water pushing a large paddle around.

One final stop on the way home was at Bernard’s mother’s house. She is a youthful 62 years old and lives on her own in a small community pretty far from any major city. She is looking to move to the US to be with Bernard’s youngest brother who just had twins. She didn’t speak any English, but was incredibly warm and welcoming. She also deals with limited electricity, phone connections and internet. She did have a burgeoning garden outside her front door with well protected palm and orange saplings. There was considerable traffic getting into the city and across to the NAFTI Hostel. I arrived home to find no water again. Although it seems to keep happening when I go away, I don’t know if I will ever quite get used to being without water for a night.