Back in Accra where it is hot and humid

Not very pleasant and very frustrating as I am stuck in an expensive Hotel because I wanted to be near the DHL depot and there is a Bank where I can at last use an ATM machine (not easy to find and the first I have attempted to use as my hidden money is dwindling fast). The package is lovely and adds 3 kilos to the load... But the Bank has been a nightmare as none of the pin numbers I had for two VISA cards work. Long telephone conversations by Ingrid and myself with the Bank in the UK have finally made them understand my problem. Their security is so tight that I have had to stay two more nights to get things sorted. Hope to have money tomorrow and then return to the Eastern area and Lake Tonga.

As you can see, Margaret sent the photos, but, after editing, I cannot get rid of the original supply. One day I will understand this machine! Ditto for the double entry on Marg H, which I tried to get into correct alphabetical order. Ho Hum....

Compensations have been to see the football in my room or at roadside bars. A very good atmosphere in town.

Ghana is full of things to see and do. I spent a productive hour with someone in the Ghana Tourist Board (the previous visit to the Ministry was incredibly frustrating, but this lady was a joy to talk to and she voiced her despair at the attitude of the Ministry). It is really worth a visit, if anybody does not speak French and does not want a Gambia Beach Holiday and wishes to be reasonably close to the UK.

When I was in my village and doing the long walk to get to a computer, I managed to do quite a bit of the 21 Kilos saga. And then, as often happened, lightining struck and the village was powerless and everything lost!


..................................... 21 Kilos contd.......

Memhet A.
Mem. has been the backbone of the Guild of Registered Tourist Guides for a number of years. He has been a good friend and I am grateful to him for what he has done for the Guild. Typically, when I asked him for a letter, he did not hesitate to supply it. In it I am described as a Tourist Guide, doing research about Tourism opportunities in Africa. The letter elicites quite a bit of interest and can help in sticky situations. Trying to help so-called Guides to understand that guiding in not just pointing at something, has been interesting and generally revealing for these young men who think they can get away with it. But the Guide we had on our 4-day Tour here in Ghana was well-trained and made such a difference to one's appreciation of a place or history.

Milly C.
Mother of Jenny. She sent along a diaphenous scarf from Africa. It was going to be an easy item to set off whatever I was wearing. Except that I lost it on the 'plane to Agadir! I'd been wearing it....and it was a good lesson in being aware of one's possessions at all times. Milly will be in the UK in September and has agreed to take some of my clothes back to SA with her. What a joy!!

Mungovan Family.
On the 11th of June one remembered Francis and the Mungovans came to mind. The last photos of Francis were taken in their house whilst he and mates from their Primary School class watched the Cup-final together as they always did every year. Mother Mary is famous for giving anybody who steps into her house, incredible food and hospitality. She showed that same care when Dick was dying and Tom, Francis's friend, again read a lesson at Dicks funeral as he did for Francis. They all care for the grave where both are buried. Memories are good things to carry with one when travelling.

Nurse Astrid.
Astrid, my community nurse, thought I was very daring and wanted to make sure that I was prepared for all eventualities. She gave me many precious appointments over the months for me to have injections, innoculations and requisite doses of 'whatever' to protect me. Because she was so gentle and did not rush the appointments, I had no side-effects and she saved me lots of money! All free on the National Health Service. One can have injections etc. from private clinics, but they cost the earth. Nobody has yet asked me to produce the evidence....

Ramesh S.
The best Dentist in the world! And I speak from many years of experience in which I never had a comfortable mouth and endless Dentists did what they could. Being so forward-thinking, Ramesh decided to learn how to do tooth implants and I became his 'model'. At vast cost to me despite the 'wholesale' tag, I have had a new mouth of teeth and for the first time in my memory, I can honestly say that I never think of or feel my teeth bothering me. Such luxury! Even the toughest goat or camel meat is masticated on both sides. So I doubt that I will need the emergency dental kit he gave me, although the toiletries bag is being used all the time. I have perfected a way of getting a few items into the small rucsac and then to leave the big one somewhere so that I have not had to travel with the big bag on my back at all. The main toiletry items and medicines are safely left to languish as I think I will get to the antibiotics and other things when needed, even if a day later. Not good housekeeping, many will say, but Africa is full of things one can use and all this preparation has so far been just weight. Don't tell anyone though, because it will seem very irresponsible!

Ronnie L.
Years ago, when Ronnie and I were much in each other's company, he gave me a very colourful, thin cotton African cloth. For over 40 years this was used whenever I have been on holiday as a cover-all and I practiced to fold a 'turban' with it. We saw each other regularly over the years and his humour was always there. When I last saw him in Cape Town about three years ago, he introduced me to the attendant at the indoor swimming baths we went to for a swim; 'You'll never think that we were lovers 40 years ago'. Last year Ronnie was stabbed in his flat, the telephone cables severed and he was left to bleed to death. My cloth disappeared one day in a taxi....

Sally O.
A gift of Dental Floss in a sturdy, round container. Such a practical item! Ramesh will be pleased and the various uses it can be put to, are endless. I started stringing moments of my trip on a piece of floss, but they soon became too bulky and people stared and did not understand that that shell or seed or beer-bottle top or piece of ticket all had a special meaning for me to remind me of an incident or place passed. So now I mainly use it for what it was intended. I watched a woman string a set of beads for which Ghana is famous. The technique of using a piece of string like the dental floss with which to string them, in so simple but so ingenious. The actual thick string of cord which one sees, seems impossible to get through the bead's hole. However, to get the beads threaded, she doubles up these many threads over a length of dental floss-like string and this, thinner two-sided piece is licked and pushed into the hole. The rest can then follow through.

Sec D.
My 'minder' when I was in Mopti, Sec became a devoted fan of 'guiding' properly and was always asking me to help him improve his knowledge. He gave me a typical, soft cottton Dogon hat. He is Dogon himself and really understood the people, but just needed to know how to share his knowledge with visitors. When I left, he gave me a small necklace which is so 'unbreakable' that it has been around my neck ever since.

Dr S.
Anne's friend-in -crime...to defraud the NHS of items I will need over the next two years. But as I am not there to waste their appointment time, doctors are actually being saved money. Dr. S. prescribed antibiotics and various other medicaments which could be useful. I am happy to let Africa heal and just hope that I will never need any of those items. A good insurancce though! In the desert the temperatures were consistently above the maximum 25 degrees recommended for their storage. I consulted a Pharmacist and he said that, as long as they were not in direct heat and in the middle of my rucsac, which they were, then they will probably still be OK for use. Otherwise it is back to the old African medicine man. Or the many and varied potions, lotions and pills being sold all over the place. When one gets into a taxi minibus, one often has to wait hours for it to get full (and you dare not vacate your seat in the mean time!). In steps a man who then begins to tell you stories from the bible, wants to sell you toothpaste with a free toothbrush, educational toys for the kids or, more often than not, various of these miraculous cures. The patter goes on for ages with much banter and interaction, but suddenly, when the bus is full, hands wave grubby notes all over the place in exchange for booklets, packets of powders or pills that are eagerly put away for that rainy day. Sometimes, I assume, he must pay for the privilege to stand in a small, cramped space in front of the bus while the overstuffed vehicle bounces about. These selling techniques are so very African, and I love them! Just wish I could translate what is so eloquently, and persuasively, being said! The other place for medicine is of course in the market itself where there are areas devoted to herbs and barks and unmentionables. I describe the calabash 'washer' elsewhere.

Sikkim Man.
--for lack of a name. In the foothills of the Himalayas, close to the home of the Dalai Lama, I befriended a gentle man from Sikkim who sewed tourist bags for the Tibetan Monks. I stayed in their Monastery and it is the first time I have ever left an abode after one night because of the filth---- not what I expected from Monks! Anyway, this gentle soul took me to his home where he sewed me a white, unbleached cotton top in no time. It still washes well and looks reasonably acceptable. But I remember his home: A tiny shack as large as a single bed amongst the stones and trees on the side of the hill. In it he lived with his wife, sewing machine and 16 chickens.

Stanfords.
Where I bought my road atlas but where dreams are dreamt and one can read of others' dreams come true. I became a regular visitor there during the last year and always left inspired by just what mankind is all about and can achieve. No other bookshop reflects our physical world and man's achievements against all odds, so well. Long may it survive!

Teresia T.
Teresia is a client/friend who teaches Spanish in the USA. She was working in London with her students for a semester and, before leaving, came to give me a lovely little steel flask and one of those incredible 'towels' that dry instantly and absorb a lot. I used them both during my winter holiday when travelling on European trains, and you can imagine how good it was to have a warm flask in all the snow... But such things as flasks are weighty and it has had to be left in London for other adventures. Ditto for the towel which I decided I will not really need.

TNT.
The weekly 'bible' of the travelling, backpacking hords in London, TNT Magazine has an annual 'open day' where people can go to get information from all the advertisers and sellers of dreams. I popped in just before I left and picked up lots of information about places to visit and things to do, although I was not going to support any of these dream-sellers. However, I did submit and join a backpackers Club which has discounts and hostels in some remote parts. And they were giving away free packs of cards. I took two and the cards have been a great source of time-wasting and pleasure. Sadly, no nomads can play bridge and some of their games are decidedly complicated with rules which seem to change every time another person is winning....In Ouagadougou I met some members of a trans-Africa truck party. They had taken some time off to do their own thing, but one suspects there were tensions and when 24 people are crammed into one vehicle for months on end, that is inevitable. These trips seem so romantic, but they had to endure three days of digging their truck out of the desert sand with dwindling food and water reserves and working in relay shifts day and night. I, on the other hand, enjoy the frequent breakdowns that the taxis are subject to. I do not need to worry and just enjoy getting out and seeing where we are, what the vegetation is like or just stretching the body horisontally and going to sleep on the sand. And odd encounters with the locals can be enlightening.

Tom E.
Who has survived more travel and life experiences in his short life than anybody I know. When he was last in London, he left his mosquito net and unbeknown to him, mother Ann has given it to me. It has already been used often in places where little flying insects make one's life a misery. The only problem is that, when you are sleeping under the stars, and there are no trees around, the stars are too far away to use as hooks. So the whole edifice collapses onto the sweating body. But it is a life-saver....

Van Eck Z.
Son of friends and a talented young man brought up on a farm, who gave me extremely good advice based on his extensive experiences of travelling through Africa. But his nimble hands also made me the delicate leather bracelet I wear. Inside this innocent-looking adornment, is enough space for a US dollar note 'in case of emergencies'. There is no need to look for trouble and I am getting more and more ready to just ignore those countries where we are told not to go. They might be interesting, but I really do not want hassles with people or places where one's comfort is threatened.

Vi and Pat G.
Near-neighbours in my block of flats, they have saved many a situation because they hold a spare key to my flat. Sadly, I am a bit haphazard about making arrangements and often strange people land on their doorstop and ask for the key to my flat. They are canny enough by now to recognise who are likely to be my friends and to give them the key. On one memorable occasion, when they did not have a key, a friend arrived. She is older than me and this was not so very long ago. Vi helped her to climb through my very small front window which was open. Now Vi and I refer to my friend as the burglar. Once, Vi bought herself a skirt and then decided that it was too long and gave it to me. I have been wearing it constantly during this trip. In the Niger, when I was swimming fully clothed every few minutes to cool down, the skirt was sorely tested by the strong currents and many of the row of buttons were wrenched off the cotton cloth. Too late did I see what the damage was. It is too handy a skirt though to throw away, so in Lome, I went to one of those little shacks where someone is using a sewing machine to do amazing works and embroideries. The gentleman sewed up the button-down area and made it look like new. He also turned the bright blue piece of Tuareg Turban into a simple blue dress. I just said; 'fold it in two and cut a neck'. The next day a perfectly wearable dress awaited me for the cost of a coke.

Vinca and Zain.
An inspiring couple who travelled the Sahara in an ordinary car. They have been a font of knowledge and good advice and I am enjoying recognising the things of which they spoke. The books they lent me helped a lot and although I declined the loan of a water filter because of weight, their advice and experience stay with me. I have actually been able to drink most supplies of water and when in doubt, there is always bottled water to be had. Most locals buy plastic square containers of about quarter of a litre off someone's head. I refer to the sellers who balance everything on their heads. These are moderately cold and one just bites off a corner and sucks the water out. The only problem is that the plastic is more durable than the little thin bags used for all other things (in Togo, a much less sophisticated country than Ghana, there is a good trade in water in thin plastic containers). This means that the pollution from plastic squares is much worse than from the thin waterbags. I love watching people collect water from wells. Each family has its own bucket, usually made from old inner tube tyres, with a long rope attached. So there is nothing to stop one from dropping it all in the deep well. Should this occur though, you have to go home to collect your hook, which is a metal hook with another long rope attached, with which you pluck out the bucket. Sadl, I strained my back when living in the mountain area of Togo. There was a rainwater butt next to my front door with a broad lip to conserve the water from evaporation. Women from neighbouring houses would come to collect this 'free' water for washing. A large metal basin would be filled from plastic buckets and then placed on the head. Somebody else would then get another bucketful of water to add to the already heavy load on her head. I offered to do the latter once and found that it was incredibly heavy and hard to get out the water and then to lift it and pour it into the metal basin on the woman's head. So much for being fit!. Now I am very lazy with my back and avoid all strain.




William G.
William was a neighbour and old soldier with no near-relatives and I became a friend. As his Executor, I helped myself to whatever furniture I wanted. Clearing out his flat was a mammoth task, but there were all kinds of handy tools and other items. Masses of unused packets of razors for those vital under-arm jobs and leg beautifiers means that I still have one of his with me, as well as a metal nailfile of the kind one does not buy these days. Margaret gave me the most amazing glass nailfile which is ever-lasting and now happily occupies space in my purse. Whatever will people think of next?!

WWWWW
Known as 5W, this organisation is for women from all over the world who may wish to visit and learn from others. I travel with their address list of the many African Members whom I look forward to meeting. One can learn so much more from living with a local inhabitant. In my village in the Eastern Region of Ghana, where I stayed and will return, I could watch the ladies of the compound prepare their food. The cutting and grinding and pounding... The way a litle fire can be lit with a flaming piece of plastic bag and a few very carefully placed twigs over that and on the charcoal, was a lesson! The African is the world's best conserver of energy and recyling. Their ingenuity is amazing and nothing is wasted which cannot be reused in some way or other. And if you want to know what 5W stands for: Women Welcome Women World Wide.

This is the end of my list of contents of my rucsac. My luggage made light. As I move about, the weight and contents might change, but thoughts of the people who have all made it possible, will remain. I will embrace the world as I always do and adjust accordingly.


.........................................................FIN......................................................