More Extreme Sports

This weekend we took a day trip to Aburi, a small city near Accra that houses a beautiful botanical garden and, right next door, a bike renting company. After a short stroll through the gardens (where we found a woman selling ice cream!), we all rented bikes and went on a short but strenuous ride through corn fields, villages, highways, and dirt paths. It took us a while to get started because of faulty breaks and chains and a shortage of helmets, but once we got going we flew down the roads. It was by far the most scary (and thrilling) mountain biking I've ever done. For the most part, the roads were very narrow and rocky, and often times strewn with  mountains of trash that you had to swerve around or fight your way through. Avoiding people and cars was also a challenge. At one point the trail was so steep and uneven we had to walk our bikes down and then leave them to walk the rest of the trail, which ended in a gorgeous waterfall. A few of the more fearless volunteers climbed up the waterfall via a knotted rope, and the rest of us went exploring at the bottom. After our ride back (which was infinitely more difficult seeing as we had to bike up everything we had coasted down before), we were greeted at the rental place with platters of fresh pineapple, which we devoured quickly.

I unfortunately spent the next day dealing with a rash that I woke up with that covered most of my legs and stomach, and by midday had traveled to my arms, face, feet, and hands. I battled the itch with some benadryl, which made me super sleepy. But Sunday is usually a chill day anyway, so I sat in the kitchen and learned Bridge with Jon, Andrew, and John, and played for about four or five hours (Hearts may have found a new replacement).

That night a drum/dance group came to the house and put on an interactive show for us. I'm not sure if it was intended to be interactive, but after the first ten minutes of watching them drum and dance, we couldn't stay put, and about thirty of us crammed into our common room and danced in circles, waving the kerchiefs they handed out and attempting to learn their dances. Something I learned too late is that Ghanaian songs last much, much longer than American ones. We must have been dancing to the same song for at least twenty or thirty minutes. And the music is largely drum based, although there was one incredible trumpet player there, and everyone was shout-singing the words, which were incomprehensible but full of energy.

As Thursday draws nearer, it's harder and harder to focus on what's going on. All I can think about is home! But hopefully the next few days will be full (possibly teaching in Deme tomorrow, and going to the clinic at McCollins on wednesday), so they will fly by. In the mean time, Mia do go!