The Vuvuzela Diaries

In Ghana life is public. People evacuate their homes and apartments every day to escape the stifling heat. And much like the patterned cloth worn by market women, the disparate parts and peoples somehow mix and weave together into a cohesive whole. Ghana is home to a number of diverse peoples and cultures, all finding ways to coexist in a rapidly modernising country. You’ll see men and women in traditional clothes text messaging friends and suited businessmen taking offerings to tribal chiefs.

Ghana has no iconic natural calling card like Victoria Falls or Kilimanjaro, but one look at a map reveals a geographic blessing: hundreds of kilometres of coast shared by beautiful beaches, like those at Busua & Dixcove, ruined European forts, such as Cape Coast Castle, the poignant reminders of the country’s importance as a way station for African slaves, and the battered shacks of lively fishing villages. Accra is the commercial and cultural motor of the country, while Kumasi is the traditional home of the Ashanti, and is famous for its crafts. In the Volta region to the east, where the geography was given a facelift by the Akosombo dam, you can still find substantial swathes of forest crawling up mountains along the Togo border. And finally the North, which offers opportunities for wildlife viewing up close and personal, stretches across the horizon like an overcooked pancake to the Burkina Faso frontier.

Compared to other countries in the region, Ghana is stable and prosperous, but this valuation is in part founded on hopes for the future. The country is often labelled ‘Africa for beginners’, and while you’ll likely be welcomed by the people in a hot, sweaty clinch, the same way the sun grabs hold of you the second after you step outside, getting around is by no means easy.

With thanks to Lonely Planet

We awoke gritty eyed on the Dogon rooftop in Kani-Kombole on our last day Mali. The thick dust blown up the previous day had not settled and we were glad to be back in the cool, dust free comfort of the cars as we made our way to the Burkina border. We had not seen the Harmattan winds and dust until Mopti (Dogon country) and we certainly didn’t expect that it could last for two whole countries!!

After changing some money in Koro (where the hotel owner changing the money offered us his hotel as collateral for our Euros he went off with!) it was a short gravel hop to the border. The crossing itself was quick and efficient and we had no problem getting the Burkinabe visas that we needed. For the first time since Morocco we crossed with other overlanders – an extremely well kitted  French group (one chap had done the Dakar rally 7 times!) in Land Cruisers with a guide and a dusty and dirty Dutch/Belgian duo in a series Landy. The French were well fed, well rested and well groomed and their guide swiftly escorted them through immigration. When we next saw them parked for lunch at the best “hotel” in Ouahigouya, it was certainly a lesson on how to overland in style – and could not have been a more different approach from the Dutch/Belgian crew! Next time…

As we only wanted to be in Ougadougou on Sunday evening (and it was Saturday) we set off to explore the area north east of Ouaga. We drove on dirt roads in thick Harmattan dust and although the area certainly won’t register on our highlights list it was interesting to see rural Burkina. The area was surprisingly populous with lakes (dams) to water crops and animals. A new artisanal mining area right next to the road provided a fascinating stop with men digging out dirt in tiny tunnels 10m underground. Interesting to see a mini little gold rush next to the road and quite scary to see the conditions they work in.

We managed to persuade a hotel on a lake just outside Kongoussi to let us camp in their courtyard and the trees and grass provided a little oasis from the dust. The next morning Danielle and I were kicked out of camp by Paula and Mikaela and we returned 20mins later to a romantic champagne breakfast prepared the rest of the crew. It was our 1 year wedding anniversary and the others had outdone themselves to put on a special little celebration for us. Grant was quite fetching as a waiter with the dishcloth draped over his arm, Mik’s pancakes were excellent and we will never know where they got that champagne from!!

That morning we made our way through Kaya – where we had a huge Burkinabe lunch of chicken in the best steak restaurant in town (no red meat was available!) – and on to Ouga.

Given that Burkina was supposed to be the poorest country we had visited so far and given the dustbowls we had travelled through, we were pleasantly surprised to find that Ougadougou is a (relatively!) well developed city with good infrastructure (roads, traffic lights, government buildings, banks, shops etc).

We made ourselves comfortable in the open ground in front of Hotel OK Inn which is disturbingly located behind the major weighstation and truckstop in Burkina. Although a little dusty it contains all the essential aspects for an overlanders base in a major city: secure parking, wifi, great steaks and a pool!! We spent the next two days doing admin: Ghana visas (easy!), washing clothes and getting car noises diagnosed at the Toyota dealership (our bushes have taken a bit of a beating).

On the morning we left we were all up bleary eyed at 6am to listen to Grant talk to John Robbie on 702. In a bizarre scene, we sat in the hotel lobby with earphones plugged in listening to the slightly delayed broadcast through the 702 website. Grant did a sterling job and it was great to know that people back home are interested in our little journey.

Finally after a quick lunch (and ice-creams!) at a local Lebanese café in town we set off for Nazinga Ranch (just north of the Ghanaian border). The ranch is a great elephant conservation success story started by two Burkinabe Canadians. It has now been taken over by the government and standards are slipping but it was still a magic stop over. We lived it up in very basic lodge huts (no camping allowed) with animals in the camp during the night and after a quick morning game drive we spent the rest of the morning watching bathing elephants at the dam just in front of the camp. It was great to see animals in the bush again.

That afternoon after a short detour to see the painted village at Tiebele (not so painted and not so friendly!), we drove the last few kms to the Ghana border… English speaking people and the beaches awaited!

Champagne Breakfast was served at 8am to celebrate Andrew and Danielle’s 1st wedding anniversary. Event planner Paula set up a small table with sirong table cloth and flowers and set out the chilled champers. Cook Mikaela rustled up some pancakes and fruit salad and our resident waiter Grant served it all with style. Kitchen boy Neil was left with the task of the washing up! Lets hope this first anniversary is followed by many more spectacular celebrations!

Standing at the geographical heart of West Africa, Burkina Faso (formerly Haute or Upper Volta, or just Burkina to the locals) is the sort of place that captures the imagination – how many of your friends back home even know that Burkina Faso exists? – and wins the hearts of travellers with its relaxed pace of life, friendly people and wealth of interesting sights. From the deserts and unrivalled Gorom-Gorom market in the north, to the green country­side and strange rock formations of the country’s southwest, Burkina spans a rich variety of landscapes. The country, too, is home to a fascinating cultural mix, with the Burkinabé (people from Burkina Faso) almost as diverse as the terrain.

This may be one of the world’s poorest countries, but it’s also one of the most stable in the region and runs with an efficiency that’s the envy of many of its neighbours. Throw in the continent’s most important film festival, the delightful small-town atmosphere of Bobo-Dioulasso, wildlife safaris in the south, the enjoyable and gloriously named capital, Ouagadougou, and there’s enough here to transform Burkina from the country that no-one knows to an experience you’ll never forget.

With thanks to Lonely Planet

It goes like this… we are all sitting around our gas stove, waiting for our spaghetti to cook, when the debate starts. Where would Africa be today if it weren’t for colonialism? Better off or worse off?  If only we could find somewhere untouched by British, French, German or Belgium influence, perhaps we would have the inkling of an answer? But where to find such a place? So far, as we have traced a track along West Africa, we have seen baguettes sold by the dozen and ‘Bonjour’ has been our standard greeting…

So, would Dogon country perhaps throw a shred of light on our debates? Until the end of the colonial era, the Dogon were one of the African peoples who had most successfully retained their culture and traditional way of life, largely due to their isolated location in cliffside villages along a 200km stretch of the Bandiagara escarpment. Our guide books suggested the best way to see Dogon country was slowly, trekking over a few days with a Dogon guide to show us the ropes and prevent any cultural faux-pas’ on our part as well as a way of promoting responsible tourism.

The owners of our campsite, Le Petit Repos, in Sevare, recommended a wonderful and unassuming guide, called Hassimi Guindo. He was born and grew up in Ende, a Dogon village and has been a guide for at least a decade. His gentle manner and quiet dignity left a resonating impression on us all. To Hassimi, guiding is not just a way to earn money, he is truly proud of his work and his diligent efforts smacked of integrity, a rarity in many tourist industries! He was our breath of fresh air. As he put it, we tourists are ‘fragile’ and must be taken care of.

Our Dogon Country trek was broken into 2 nights and 3 days:

Day 1

After an early rise, Hassimi arrived at our campsite and we travelled to Kani-Kombole, in southern Dogon country, where we left our cars, parked under two giant baobabs and overlooked by a Dogon style mosque. We set off at around 11am, in scorching heat, with temperatures of 40 degrees Celsius! Needless to say, after 4kms we were drenched in sweat and very grateful to sink our limp limbs into reclining chairs, under a shaded roof-top in the tiny village of Teli.  After a hearty lunch of chicken, tomato relish, couscous and cold cokes, we were bade to ly down on mattresses on the roof-top. We slept (and sweated) away the midday heat, and were roused at around 3pm to restart our trek. Hassimi lead us up to the cliff-face above Teli where the old village remains. This village was built in the 11th century, initally by the Tellem people (a pygmy race), then later taken over by the Dogon. We were shown the granaries, the Hogon’s house (the Hogon was the spiritual leader of the village), a typical family house and the Hunter’s house (complete with baboon skulls still plastered to the walls). Hassimi also pointed out the old Tellem miniature granaries, higher up on the cliff, which have been converted by the Dogon into burial sites with a view!

We then marched on to Ende, where we spent the evening listening and attempting to participate in local Dogon music, played on a calabash guitar with two strings and accompanied by a drummer on an upturned calabash. Mikaela was probably the most talented drummer, although we all fell short of local standards!  Each song had a story behind it – one about circumcisions, one about harvest time… and of course, one about a beautiful woman (some themes are the same the world over)!

Day 2

The formula was similar to the previous day except that we started the day much earlier, explored Ende village and the violet dyers who use a local plant to stain their cotton cloth a deep blue, visited the rope makers (wisened old men who make ropes from baobab bark) and then trekked on to our lunch stop at Yabatalou. All along our route we were greeted warmly by old and young alike, and it was not uncommon for us to be walking hand in hand with a little kids as we trekked past settlements.

Over our lunch-time siesta period, we entertained ourselves with numerous card-games of ‘Spite and Malice’ and some of us agreed to massages administered by the village ‘medicine man’ or ‘healer’. I must say that as a physiotherapist, I was rather skeptical at first, however after his treatment, (which was of the myofascial and neural type for those interested) my sceptism had vanished as effectively as my aches! Apparently, Dogon medicine is being studied by the Western world, as it has been recognized as having value.

The late afternoon trek saw us leaving the plains and climbing upwards through a gorge onto the top of the ‘falaise’ to the village of Begnimato. As we emerged onto the top-most portion of the gorge, we were dumbstruck by the sight before us; a little valley of Eden! Lettuces and onions were growing bright green and prolifically in neat squares, whilst children and men carried water to their veggie patches, chatting amiably to each other. Overhead, Abyssinian Rollers and Bearded Barbets trilled and twittered as they flew between the bright green mango and fig trees. We climbed slightly higher, past some spectacular rock formations, before arriving at our night-time repose. That night, we slept on the roof-tops, under the plethora of stars, disturbed intermittently by the swirling winds of the Harmattan.

Day 3

Slightly bleary eyed, we awoke to a breakfast of freshly baked baguettes, smothered in guava and mango jam, and washed down with cups of coffee. Hassimi then showed us around Begnimato which is essentially comprised of three ‘quartiers’. An animist quartier, a muslim quartier and a christian quartier. Hassimi explained that although people belong to different religious factions, they live in harmony and marriage between the different factions is welcomed. We could certainly all learn a bit from this as! We also paid a visit to the hunter’s house – slightly macabre with the stuffed animal skins of civets, baboons and wild cats, not to mention the still live monkey chained to the wall!

We then hiked along the top of the plateau, gazing in wonder at the dust clouds on the plains below, stirred up by the Harmattan, till we reached the village of Indelou. This village is occupied by animists only, and has a ‘fetish’ rather than a church or mosque. Hassimi explained that the Hogon of the village had passed away a few years ago, and the village elders would soon be asking the fox – a revered animal – who the next Hogon should be. The fox answers their questions, which are written in the sand, by walking over the correct answer.

We descended back down through another steep gorge, and were met at the bottom by our ‘chariots’ which were two ox-drawn carts. The driver of our cart, an eight year old chap called Amaddou couldn’t have been prouder of his job and he was wonderful in his sincerity, making sure we held on tightly over the bumpy bits – fragile tourists that we are! In this manner, we set off to Ende where we had lunch. After lunch and another chariot ride later, we were back at our cars, feeling like we had left a little bit of our hearts behind.

So, there is certainly no definite answer to our debate, but we all felt touched by a culture and a people who had ‘something special’ about them. They are not wealthy in the western way, but their sense of community and pride in their traditions smacks of wealth to me. We could all learn from the wisdom of the Dogon people – long may they remain unaffected.