Today has not been great. I don’t like posting negatives, but sometimes I need an outlet. I also want to represent everything in my blog, even if it isn’t positive.
This weekend, thus far, has been punctuated by two successes.
Alex and I sit awkwardly next to two Americans as they yell at our cab driver at the Wli National Park. From Hohoe we had found a share cab to the falls and picked up two others who happened to be from the US. The ride was filled with pleasant conversation, the usual “where are you from, why are you here.” When we arrived however, the mood dampened. The driver had told us 1 cedi a person, but when we got out, he said he actually ment 2. As in 2/person, not 2 for both. We all assumed he was trying to rip us off. After all, this happens an unfortunate amount. He came inside the guide office where our fellow cab-mates continued a yelling match. It became quite clear the problem had been language, we paid, thinking it was settled. But the other girls wouldn’t have it, out of principle, they claimed. And I have sympathy for them, I too am a bit jaded from the constant mark up for westerners, which is the norm in all developing countries. Then a woman in the office uses the argument we’ve heard before, in Peru when a tour guide almost tricked us out of $40: “You’re rich, it’s nothing to you.” Of course, this set one of the girls off, who throws her hands in the air and exclaims “fuck this country, I can’t wait to go home.” Though she did eventually pay. And the temper didn’t end, on the tricky route down, she slipped on some loose rocks-most people do, we were lucky not to have fallen, and as she hits the ground in a controlled fall, its clear she’s done. She screams more profanities about the country and lack of tourism infrastructure and cries. All of the emotions of the day, fueled by physical exhaustion, I feel for her. But I have to say, this is a bit dramatic. As we leave the park, we tip our guide well, certainly, he deserved it.
Sliding on to the cool leather seat, a cool rush of air fills the sticky-hot night and at last, we breathe. We feel an overwhelming calm as we sail through the streets of Accra, observing, through tinted windows the world outside as the BBC catches us up on a world seemingly a million miles away.