January 15, 2011

Last night under the mosquito net I slept dreamlessly. I woke to the bleating of goats and a sunrise that matched the sunset. Stepped outside the room onto the savannah with mud huts in front of me and two women with huge bundles of sticks on their heads. Used the water we heated on last nights fire for coffee this morning and set off to see the hippos. Drove there in the car and climbed up to the hippo hide on the bank of the black Volta and saw  Burkina Faso on the opposite bank. Paddled for a bit and came upon the hippos wallowing in the river with little birds sitting on them and more birds flying by and there was a fish that leaped out of the water and the hippos made grunting noises and flicked their little ears about and poked their little eyes out of the water.  The guide and the man who was paddling the boat were nervous about the hippos being too close. The boat had a leak in it and Nico and Marco were bailing and then Marco asked to paddle and the two guides were really nervous. And Josef, one of the guides, asked us repeatedly if we could go now, please. We did go eventually and I recounted to Josef, whom I was sitting behind, some canoe trip adventures. I was surprised to learn that he has just recently learned to swim.

After lunch we agreed that the hippos were fine and well and we had made our intended pilgrimage but now it was time to go, so after a lunch of sorts we got back into that car and valorous Richard started the engine and pointed the car south and off we sped. We drove through fire on the road again, this time so close and hot I was convinced the windshield would shatter. As we lapsed into a sort of travelers stupor the savannah sped by and the mud huts and mobile phone credit vendors and school kids and jollof rice ladies and salt merchants and goats and kids holding bush meat out at arms length at the side of the road became one and the same small town.
We drove.
We drove.
12 hours later we arrived at Busua, my face swollen from deranged car sleep, feeling like I had just emerged from a sticky cocoon. I had woken with a start several times on the road when the pitching of the car (as it traversed potholes) shifted the luggage, which pressed on me insistently. I was also quite convinced that we were going to perish in a horrible midnight carwreck because the road was dark and the headlights of the oncoming cars were awfully close and bright and us speeding toward them compelled me to shut my eyes tight again.

We arrived safely, despite my premonitions.