My ratio of mosquito bites to marriage proposals is about equal

As I embarked upon my African adventures, I promised myself that I would try to keep any complaints to a minimum; there are plenty of things to complain about here, the heat, general sanitation issues, an almost daily loss of water and electricity, eating uncommon foods, etc. I feel like I have generally done well with my goal, until this weekend when I had my first major freak out. haha! I would like to share this experience, I find it ridiculous in hind site.

I work throughout the week and have the weekend off to travel to other areas. This weekend we found our way north to experience the Volta Region of Ghana to view Wli waterfalls, (the tallest waterfalls in West Africa) a Mona monkey sanctuary, and a Kenti weaving village called Kpetwe where I will be doing some cultural preservation research with another volunteer, Stephanie.

Transportation in Ghana is quite the experience. We rely on tro-tro's for our transportation needs. These vehicles exist in various forms, however at the most basic level they are large vans that are packed with people, (comfortably they seat 12 people, but I am yet to ride in a tro-tro with only 11 other passengers. The vans are generally packed with 15-18 people and on occasion, if it is a busy day, the number of passengers can reach 20) drivers race around the roads filled with pot holes at high speeds, flat tires and break downs are common, there is no air conditioning and generally gospel or reggae music is blaring from the blown speakers.

Our trip this weekend required us to take a 3 hour journey, transfering at several tro-tro stations. As luck would have it, there was a downpour the night before our travels that continued on and off throughout the morning. (The rain here in Ghana is a topic that deserves a whole post of its own, when I have more time.) Because of the rain, travel was a nightmare! The unpaved red dirt roads turned into a system of lakes and streams comparable to that of Volta. Before we left Atorkor I had drank about a half of a gallon of water, because I knew it would be awhile before I would reach an area where I could purchase bottled water and I didn't want to feel dehydrated for the journey. So after spending the morning in the tro-tro bumping up and down and up and down, by the time I arrived at our first transfer station I needed to use the bathroom very badly, as one could imagine. After piling out of the cramped tro tro I needed to find a bathroom, quickly. But, as I have learned everything in Africa is difficult. I was lead by the diver of our tro tro to a place to urinate, while my mom and our friend Joyce unloaded our luggage. I grew up in Idaho, camping and hiking, I know how to use the bathroom out doors and I was not worried. However, all that was there was a slab of cement with a small drain in the center...no ledge, no ditch, no hole, just a pad of cement. So my bathroom experience ended with a soaked sandal. As I write this I am embarrassed and wonder why I feel comfortable sharing...

Somehow I found my way back to my mom who was holding my backpack which was dripping with red water, apparently at one of the stations the hatch of the tro tro had been opened up and my bag had fallen out into one of the giant red lakes. So my luggage was completely soaked, just drenched in red dirt water! They had just let it fall completely into a puddle, not washing it off or anything. I lost it! I yelled, and swore and almost started to cry. For those of you who know me, and my issues with spills and sanitation, you can only imagine. I spent the rest of the weekend outfitted in red-dirt stained clothing.