Down the Hole

I’ve been thinking about how to best share my African experience with you, and I’ve come to realize that one of the best ways will be to share stories with you. I’m thinking I’m going to have a lot of funny ones. Of course, I’ll share lots about the work I am doing here, since that is the real reason I am here. But, the white red-headed lady in Ghana will definitely have a few adventures along the way. I’ve entitled this one “Down the Hole”.

Now, one can associate holes with many sorts of things. Holes in socks. A hole in the bucket. A hole in one. Dry sockets after a tooth extraction could be considered holes too. This one involves a different kind of hole.

But before I get to the hole, we must first get to the restaurant. We walked down . I figured going for a walk would be ok, it was dark (it gets really really dark in Africa, especially on a cloudy night like tonight). But, I figured walking with Sarah Grant, our team director, who lives in and knows the area pretty well, should be ok. Well … it was really, really dark and she was talking, we miss the turn and subsequently add an additional kilometer (maybe? I don’t know, any dark road in Africa seems really long to me. I’m still really struggling with the dark thing. I even hate walking across the driveway at home in the dark). Anyway, we get to the restaurant and I realize I have to go to the bathroom. I spent the day drinking water in attempt to reduce the swelling/water retention in my feet, and well, it was time to go. I’ve been to other “outdoor” restaurants before in Cairo and Abu Dhabi, but things in Ghana are a little different. There they had inside parts, here, well, not so much. I spent some time thinking about what to do. There were bushes. There was a little building where some of the food prep took place. But, there were also close houses, and this being a restaurant, lots of tables and patrons. I had no choice but to ask.

I asked one of the waitresses, and she pointed me across the field. I couldn’t see anything out there, but she said to just walk and I would find it. I started walking, and she quickly came running after me, “Flashlight, flashlight”. Good idea! I turned and took it from her. No sooner than I turned around and took half a step while turning it on, my foot disappeared and I performed a brilliant tumbling act across the field. As I tumbled I felt my arm get wet. My only thought was of my pants. Did I just roll through mud? I had decided to break out a pair of clean, last washed in Canada, pants. I stood up, and realized I was sans shoe. I sort of jumped back to the hole, shone the light down, and sure enough, it was in the bottom. Fortunately, it wasn’t nearly as deep as I thought it had been, only about knee deep. So I reached down, grabbed it, and went on my merry way after reassuring the staff I was ok.

I started walking across the field, still not sure where to go, until I hit a fence. “Hmmm…” I looked around and then noticed a grass, hut-like structure to my left. “Well, I guess this is it”. I began. Then I realized that there was a table that wasn’t too far away. I could hear everything they were saying, could they hear me? I thought about stopping, but didn’t know when we would be back at the Guesthouse, or exactly how many water satchels I still had left in me. Well, this is Africa.

I got back the main area of the restaurant, and continued to reassure the women that I was not hurt. They gave me some soap and I washed up and filed “(significant) washroom adventure number 1” in the vault. From what I’ve heard, I’m confident this is only the beginning.

On a more positive note, I ate the most amazing burger for dinner. Not Ghanaian food I know, but I will get to that a little bit later on.