Weekends

So a much more cheerful blog is order. First, I just want everyone to know (Mom, Dad) that my mental health although under constant stress and guilt is fine--no catch 22 here. I have become close to one of my housemates in particular--Emma is pretty ballin' and we have similar travel (as in adventure) styles/ideologies so we end up doing a lot together particularly on the weekends. For the first weekend we escaped the camp's heat--the cement buildings retain a lot--by traveling to Cape Coast a fishing village a few hours away mostly known for its huge forts that shipped out slaves. Then up to a Kakum National Park, a rainforest with awell known canopy walk. Having forgot my camera, I have done my best to preserve it in a short essay:

The Canopy Walk
It was as if I had stepped into a vintage cartoon; all that connected one titan tree to the next was a line of wood, the width, length, and thickness, of diving boards nailed one after another. It was a Wile Coyote master plan; the boards gave a bird's eye view to the the lower levels of the forest hundreds of feet below. with all the life the biosphere contained I would not be surpised if a species of road runner habitated it.
Supporting the planks were nets crisscrossed and suspended by thick ropes, reminescent of the ones from gym class. These were further reinforced by coils of metal strung across the span. There were seven bridges in total and six of us. I believe Sarah was the first to cross, the person next in line had to wait until the other was halfway across. We all walked the first leg of the sky line like a gang plank above a sea of greens. There were some trees that reached above us, allowing a closer examination of the endurance of the flora that took it to such heights. By the time I reached the first tree stand I was completely awestruck, as if somebody had taken an eninah club and beat me with Biblical reverence. The susn was out in early morning force, bright but not yet roasting. It painted birds with shadows to appear like cutouts in the sky. I don't know how to describe the view, the horizon held a tropical outline of exotic trees. The texture pushed down into th evalley twisting, contorting, overlapping, but always green. If I had jumped off the balcony circumnavigating the ancient trees, I know I would have lived happily ever after, after being caught angrily by countless branches instead of the root imbibed ground. It was a dream. Paul was almost right, it was something to cross off The List, except it surpassed The List. The List was a map of Putnam County and the rainforest was a collection of galaxies. Iwalked the last bridge as if it were a church aisle. Each slow meeting step I took brought me one step further away from Eden, from the sinless wilderness that knew survival and subsistence, and one step closer to my current marriage with consumerism and comfort and safety. Every movement I tried to absorb it all, I attempted to memorize the linesthe foliage made as if they were the wrinkles around my grandmother's smile. I looked and cherished every direction possible until my eyes became obscured with tears from the magnifence of it all. Kakum was a marriage itself, a holy matrimony between Mother Nature and God, and in the middle of the bridge, in the middle of the park, in the middle of Ghana, on the side of AFrica, on the icing of the world, I was a lowly worshipper.

This last weekend, a too large group of six traveled north of Accra into a town called Aburi and stayed the night in the Botanical gardens. Beautiful and spacious the small city on the montain gave an amazing vista of the Accra below. It was cooler and way less bustle up north. We toured the garden at daybreak before heading off to more north still. The next place we visited was Boti Falls (100 feet ish). UP and down and up some more we first hiked into the jungle and out into the grasslands to th eUmbrella Stone, a mushroom shaped rock which gave an excellent view of th esurrounding area. Then we went to the falls, usually its one big one, but this time there were two rather large ones. Throwing caution to the wind, putting our lives in Fate's hands, and ignoring all the warnings of going in to freshwater. Emma and I swam in the falls. and it was F'ing awesome. We were maidens of the mist and we shouted all our thanks for being in Africa into the echoing roar!! Everyone should swim in a waterfall at least once in their life. Then we walked for about na hour to a more locally known falls known as Akaa. Sitting on a rock cliff of about 70 feet we jumped into the waterfall........just playing we actually took a break under th eshady overhang. Then it poured and we stayed dry and watched the rain. Back on th eside of the road, we waited for a tro tro to Kofftown (large van, reminiscent of Hankins). Then the skies opened up again. A couple of us took turns to wait on the road, wihle th erest sought shelter under a nearby roof. While we were out there, Eric and I sang songs like Hit the Road Jack, at the top of our lungs. The six of us finally made it to a hotel, only to discover the prices had been raised beyond some of our budgets. Soaking wet, hungry as hell, and even, dare I say it, a little chilled, Eric and I bargained the price down to 10 Cedi (seedy=10$) and we booked two rooms and slept solidly, all dreaming of the actual showers we would have in the morning.

Its all good but hearing peoples stories can be difficult. There are a couple of women I would love to sponser, all single mothers, all sick of poverty, all sick of not being able to earn there own living. I have been working with one lady in particular Grace, she is a couple years older than myself with a month old baby. The other day she had to borrow money to buy water in order for here to be able to breastfeed her child. All the ladies want to go to school to learn a trade or finish one (one has a few nursing classes left to take before getting her degree). My next post will be devoted to them, right now, they are living on prayers. Thank you for yours!