During May we have had the first real rain since before Christmas as the weather changes from the dry hot season to the rainy season. The middle two weeks of April were almost unbearably hot with temperatures around 43 and it was almost a full time occupation to drink enough water. But now every so often the storm clouds gather and we have high winds and spectacular thunder, lightening and rain. The temperature then drops for a day or so but has been climbing again before the next downpour, though not to its previous heights.
Each time it rains things get a little greener. The green fuzz that appeared initially is now turning to proper grass and the animals are all finding something to graze on again after months of scratching around in the dust. People are starting to work on the land, preparing it for planting. It is hard back breaking work as most people work bent double using small hand hoes. In one or two places you can see oxen pulling a plough and work progressing much faster.
The other advantage to the rain is that my room is not getting nearly so dusty. When it does rain it often lasts for several hours and is so heavy that all also mean that you may get stuck at work or elsewhere and not be able to shift for a while. I try to always be prepared and carry a good book with me.
My usual route to work on the moto changes after rain, suddenly presenting new challenges of huge puddles all along it so I have to find a way along the edges or go along a different track. I have now ridden to Bolga (about an hour away) and back a few times. All fairly uneventful - well, as uneventful as a ride on roads with potholes, free range animals etc is ever going to be. I was quite conscious that I was being stared at, especially as I passed through the two townships along the way. As soon as you get away from the bigger towns white skin is still a bit of a novelty and causes considerable interest and curiosity. I got stopped by the police one day but just for a chat rather than because there was a problem!
At the beginning of May I went with one of my housemates to Paga where we visited a slave camp which acted as a holding camp on the forced march south for slaves from Mali, Niger and Bukina Faso who were heading for export. It’s a grim and sad tale all round with local chiefs and other tribal leaders benefiting from the trade. Slavery was already practiced internally within many of the tribal systems so the idea of selling people was not entirely foreign. We also visited the sacred crocodile ponds where, according to local custom based on an old story, the crocodiles are protected and the guides assure you that they are friendly and safe. Well we did come back alive!
I’m getting quite fond of the many pigs around Zebilla. They are entirely free range here and as April/May is the breeding season there are lots of tiny piglets at the moment. I rather like the squeals and snuffles that can be heard as they wander around outside the house. They also do a great job at hoovering up any peelings etc we put outside. I am also getting more used to riding just inches past dozing pigs that wallow in any available water.
May was also notable as I attended my first Ghanaian funeral. Funerals here are traditionally big events, often held ages after the person dies and is buried. There is music, dancing, drinking and eating and they often turn into noisy all night parties. As this one was for the areas ex PM’s mother it was a big do. We purchased specially printed funeral cloth a week before the funeral and took it to a seamstress to have it made up. Saturday’s mainly black dress will definitely come home with me to be worn on various future occasions. In this area funerals are mainly held in the dry season, when people are not busy with farming, so we are now right at the end of the funeral season and many are taking place. On Sunday we swapped to our white with a black print outfits. Having greeted family members we had seats under a canopy at the front of the house where musicians and dancers performed right in front of us. They kicked up a fair amount of dust, made a lot of noise and dripped with sweat. They are extremely fit to be leaping around in such heat. The atmosphere was lovely with lots of woman coming forward to perform traditional dance and chants. There was lots of laughter, especially when one of our friends tried to join in and emulate the dancers, and I got some great photos.
