Funding had just come through on a new rainwater harvesting tank, and we were investigating the possibility of siting it at a small community called Dingoni. That's where I ran into a group from Unite for Sight, which helps people in the Tamale area with free reading glasses and glaucoma surgery. I struck a conversation with one of them, since I've found that chances to meet Westerners are reasonably rare.
I should point out that that was a couple weeks ago. I'd since dropped by to see them a couple times and they invited me to go to Mole with them this past weekend.
Every week or so I talk to Shannen andhe generally tells me I should take a break and go to Mole. I've found so far that I don't really have the time. Theoretically, it would take about four hours to get there, but that doesn't account for the bus breaking down. Apparently this happens most trips, meaning a Friday morning departure is pretty much required. Fortunately, these Unite for Sight folks have a van.
In my head I have this picture of Mole as sort of this lush rainforest capital P Paradise. Very Jungle Book, if that wasn't about a different continent altogether. Sher Khan, Baboo, etc. Watercolour backgrounds and cel-shaded monkeys. I was surprised how accurate that turned out to be. Obviously without cel-shading. The hostel is on a ridge overlooking a large expanse of jungle, which is generally a bit misty. You can see baboons skirting the crest of the ridge and hanging out in the trees. Warthogs were eating the lawn.
After Tamale, it was a distinctly surreal experience. There was a swimming pool, for example. I realized I hadn't been in a swimming pool in at least a few years. One of those things that you stop doing when there's no longer someone else to organize it for you, I guess. Being suspended in water felt strange and foreign, at least for a few seconds. Then it felt sinful - like a waste of a precious resource. I'm half serious and half not - in spite of any vague guilt, it, more than anything else, felt kinda nice.
I feel similarly about the Unite for Sight crew. We played a game called Bananagrams, and someone was joking about Harry Potter and I talked about classes and Victorian lit with a girl in the front seat of the van. And it was all a big relief and so easy to do. But I feel bad in a way, because I talked to Shabahn about going to Mole and somehow those plans never materialized. And some Westerners ask me to go, and there you are. I felt weird when I got back to the house in Tamale, like I was in two places at once, or two countries. I blamed it on a sweaty and sleepless dormroom night and passed out in the middle of the afternoon, A/C on full.
So here's some pictures of elephants.
I should point out that that was a couple weeks ago. I'd since dropped by to see them a couple times and they invited me to go to Mole with them this past weekend.
Every week or so I talk to Shannen andhe generally tells me I should take a break and go to Mole. I've found so far that I don't really have the time. Theoretically, it would take about four hours to get there, but that doesn't account for the bus breaking down. Apparently this happens most trips, meaning a Friday morning departure is pretty much required. Fortunately, these Unite for Sight folks have a van.
In my head I have this picture of Mole as sort of this lush rainforest capital P Paradise. Very Jungle Book, if that wasn't about a different continent altogether. Sher Khan, Baboo, etc. Watercolour backgrounds and cel-shaded monkeys. I was surprised how accurate that turned out to be. Obviously without cel-shading. The hostel is on a ridge overlooking a large expanse of jungle, which is generally a bit misty. You can see baboons skirting the crest of the ridge and hanging out in the trees. Warthogs were eating the lawn.
After Tamale, it was a distinctly surreal experience. There was a swimming pool, for example. I realized I hadn't been in a swimming pool in at least a few years. One of those things that you stop doing when there's no longer someone else to organize it for you, I guess. Being suspended in water felt strange and foreign, at least for a few seconds. Then it felt sinful - like a waste of a precious resource. I'm half serious and half not - in spite of any vague guilt, it, more than anything else, felt kinda nice.
I feel similarly about the Unite for Sight crew. We played a game called Bananagrams, and someone was joking about Harry Potter and I talked about classes and Victorian lit with a girl in the front seat of the van. And it was all a big relief and so easy to do. But I feel bad in a way, because I talked to Shabahn about going to Mole and somehow those plans never materialized. And some Westerners ask me to go, and there you are. I felt weird when I got back to the house in Tamale, like I was in two places at once, or two countries. I blamed it on a sweaty and sleepless dormroom night and passed out in the middle of the afternoon, A/C on full.
So here's some pictures of elephants.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment