i dislike frogs. and saying goodbye.

This past week was my last in Ghana - after saying goodbye to everyone and attempting to come back to life I was kicked out of my dorm and on a tro tro to Busua, which is about four hours from Accra. We needed to heal ourselves with sunshine.

People in our program had gone to Busua and come back saying it was a life changing experience and so amazing and that the burritos were above all the best. So I was going with pretty high expectations, which, scenery wise, were met. The beach is absolutely spectacular and was pretty deserted for the week we were there - right in the center of your view is a picture perfect deserted island, complete with two palm trees. There's a surfshop (yes, there is surfing in Ghana) and a few restaurants but it's mostly just different guest houses and hotels that are spread out along the beach. We were staying at Peter's Place - this is the cheapest place to stay and rightfully so. I was used to staying in crappy places after fall break, so it wasn't that bad. A basic room, with a toilet and shower separated by a partial wall - a bit awkward, but nothing too bad. The first night was uneventful, we ate at the surfshop, got our first taste of the burritos that were AMAZING, and went to bed at eight when the sun went down. The second day - lovely. Our room was literally 100 feet from the beach so we could wake up early, walk outside, and be ready to go. We laid out all day, got incredibly sunburned, swam, napped in the hammocks that belonged to the other hotels.

Then it was night time. Nights were not so exciting in Busua - there is nothing to do when the sun sets, which is at about seven. There's a few people here and there, but it's nothing like Accra. So we're in the room because we are all bright red and exhausted, and I go to use the bathroom, lift up the toilet seat, and sitting there is THE BIGGEST FROG I HAVE EVER SEEN. Just hanging out. IN OUR TOILET.

So I scream and dart out of the little passage that separates the bathroom and yell about frogs being in the toilet, and Holley and Brenda look at me as if I am crazy. "I SWEAR THERE WAS A HUGE FROG IN THE TOILET." Brenda is brave enough to go look...and there is nothing there. OF COURSE. I though I could have been delirious from the sun, my eyes were playing tricks on me, whatever. Brenda and Holley have a laugh at me and move on. So a few minutes later, I'm still afraid to go to the bathroom and Brenda is nice enough to go check again. Ten seconds later, I hear a scream. THE FROG HAS REAPPEARED. This thing is huge - and absolutely disgusting. My biggest fear is having snakes come up through the toilet, so a frog is far too close for comfort. No one uses the bathroom that night and we put a huge bag of satchet water on top because you never know...that frog could have superhuman strength and dart out of the toilet during the night. Meh. Gross.

So the next morning I complain to one of the boys who works for Peter, and he doesn't believe me and goes to check and tells me that I am being silly and there is nothing there. For the rest of the day we snuck into different bathrooms at the other hotels and the surf shop, and finally later that night Peter comes back and says that he was very disturbed by what I claimed had happened and has something to show me. He grabs my wrist and starts dragging me to the room and I am convinced he is going to show me a dead frog so I start screaming NO I DON'T WANT TO SEE and then he sighs and goes OH MY GOSH COME ON and brings me around the back of our room...and shows me the enormous hole in the pipes leading to our bathroom. Fantastic. This hole was probably the size of a baseball, and as it is above ground, is the perfect escape for little creatures such as frogs. He promises to get DDT and kill it as soon as possible...which is the next day.

Watching this man 'take care of' our pipe issue was the most entertaining hour of the week. First of all, he brings in DDT, which is a bright neon green liquid in an old liquor bottle. No labels, no nothing, just the radiating odor of chemicals. Holley and I are sitting on the bed and he is in the bathroom, and I hear "Ohh it's BIG BIG FROG! Let's let it die a little more." So I'm assuming the frog is in the toilet and this man is pouring chemicals on it - for the next ten minutes he walks in and out checking on the progression of this frogs death. "Little more! Little longer!" He finally flushes it, and after fixing the pipe with cement tells me that there was not just one frog...there was actually three. Then a few minutes later...there were actually four. Three little frogs and one "BIG BIG ONE". So we killed a mama frog and her three babies - and no, I don't feel the least bit guilty.

I realize I have written a ridiculous amount about frogs and toilets, but aside from this experience the week was literally all reading, hammocking, talking to our new friends (such as a Serbian named Milo who spoke with a southern accent and went through half a bottle of whiskey in an hour), and getting as much sun as possible. And it paid off...when we came back Marjorie told Holley and I that we had different skin and we looked like the Ghanaian flag (I'm not sure if she meant the red or yellow part...).

Since we've been back we've been hanging out with Marjorie and her adorable daughters, using the Academic center's internet/shower/refrigerator because we are pretty much homeless, and attempting to stuff four months into two suitcases. Last night we saw New Moon with our CRA Abynnah and it was the most enjoyable two hours of my life - a little dose of American culture in the form of bad movies was a lovely preview for my life starting Wednesday.

My flight is tonight...and I am still in denial. Saying goodbye to people and to places when I don't know when I'll return is incredibly difficult - also, it is Christmas in two days?? WHAT?! I am definitely not ready for snow, 2010...I have a feeling I am going to be terrified by Manhattan after being in such a relaxed 'city' as Accra...obrunis everywhere! The culture shock is going to be quite interesting.

I'm excited to get back to America and see how different it feels, but I'm definitely going to be leaving a big part of my heart in Ghana. I've promised myself (and countless others I've had to say goodbye to) that I'm going to come back one day, so that is what I'll be holding onto. It's been an amazing, ridiculous, crazy four months being here - and I've loved every day of it.

nyu in ghana, me dowapaa

Today was the last day of the NYU in Ghana program - as I'm writing this, I'm sitting in my dorm room, by myself, terrified that at any moment there will be a massive raid on the compound and I will be target number one. Why am I still in my dorm when everyone else is gone? Well, Holley, Brenda and I are all staying an extra week to go to the beach and spend some more time in Accra. I want to avoid winter in Maine and try to make my skin as dark as possible. So the plan was to leave at noon today and be at the beach by tonight. We're going to Busua, which is supposed to be like heaven on earth and I am so excited to see it, but when Holley and I are involved in travel plans, nothing is ever simple.

So it was the last day - everyone is trying to see everyone and say goodbye and get everything packed and get as many hugs and last moments in as we can. The past week has been incredibly emotional with final projects and papers and packing, and as Maggie said, we are all on an emotional cliff. The other day I couldn't find a match to light the stove and make french fries and I nearly started crying - this is a true story.

So I woke up this morning, or rather I was woken up by Maggie, and realize that not only do I have an absolutely terrible headache, but I can barely open my eyes and my skin is burning hot. Mama Maggie took my temperature and surprise! - 38.9 degrees Celcius (for all you Americans, that is a lovely 102 degrees). I felt like Beth March when she got scarlet fever. I looked like shit, I felt like shit, and I was supposed to be packed and on a tro tro in two hours <--- something that did not happen. Because we are obrunis, the first thing we think whenever we get sick is that it's malaria. I am terrible at remembering to take my malaria medication - how are you supposed to remember to do something every day! - so while everyone went to eat wakye and visit Marjorie one last time, me and my CRA Douglass took a nice little trip to Nyaho Hospital, which Douglass told me was the best private hospital in Accra. I wasn't impressed. I was there for four hours. We waited in reception, we waited in the 'temperature room', we waited in the waiting room, we waited at the laboratory. I've been tested for malaria before and it was so painful, but the doctor today, who was probably about fifty, told me that this one wouldn't hurt because he'd mixed in sugar and honey and all that sweet stuff. Charming. He then told me that he'd come to America with me and I should pack him in my luggage.

I got my test results and they came back negative, although the doctor told me that the pills I take could affect the results. It was quite a letdown - if I'm going to be this sick I want to be able to put a name to what I have, not say "it's maybe malaria it's like a virus or the flu or something like that I'm on antibiotics". Especially if it meant missing everyone's last day. Which was incredibly not okay - it is so surreal that this experience is over. The fact that tomorrow nearly everyone will be back in America and in all different places and eating McDonalds is too strange for me to understand when I am still sitting here - well, laying here - in Ghana. It's never going to be like this again - although we'll all see each other in New York and all of us want to return to Ghana, it's never going to be the same as the past four months have been. Which, if I had to sum it up - was amazing. I'm lucky that I was too sick to go to the hospital and say goodbye to everyone - it was hard enough saying goodbye to everyone from the couch. The past four months have been filled with beautiful moments and wonderful people - I feel so lucky to have had the chance to experience it. I still have a week and a half left, but it already feels very different being here without everyone else - sitting in my dorm room without Maggie across from me just doesn't feel right, and while it's sad, and change is never easy, I mostly feel grateful to have been here.

And now I must continue my aspirin regimen so that I can make it through a seven hour tro tro ride tomorrow. Busua - you better be worth it.

it's beginning to look a lot like...no, not really.

This was my second year in a row being away from home for Thanksgiving, and the two that I have had abroad have been...interesting. Last year when I was in London, I won tickets to see MGMT on Thanksgiving night in the most intense and epic ebay battle of my life. The concert was amazing - Ben and Andrew dressed as pilgrims and Indians, I danced and fell more in love with Andrew, and all was good.

NYU in London did nothing for us for Thanksgiving, so I wasn't expecting anything from NYU in Ghana, but I guess because we're in Africa and about as far away from American holiday culture as you can get, and because lately all we've been hearing about the holidays is that we have to protect our valuables because there's been an increase in machete attacks, they decided to throw us a big dinner event. And when I say big, I mean big. Turkeys were flown in, our director brought Ocean Spray cranberry sauce back with her from her last trip to America, and everyone started planning desserts to contribute. It was very fancy schmancy - tablecloths, candles - much more formal than any Thanksgiving I've had, where we usually wear pajamas and watch television until its time to eat. I'm a vegetarian, so the turkeys they brought out didn't interest me, but according to the carnivores it was amazing and 'juicy' (that sounds disgusting to me). They also have some amazing mac and cheese and SO MUCH mashed potatoes, which they thoughtfully set right in front of me. Snickerdoodles, chocolate chip cookies, Mississippi mud pie - so much food that none of us could do anything after but fall asleep or moan about our stomachs being full. After we had all stuffed ourselves, they switched from elevator music to hiplife, since any night is not complete without dancing to Bumper to Bumper and World Trade Center (youtube it).

I have always been the number one Christmas enthusiast, and Thanksgiving is the time when I create my massive Christmas music playlist and force everyone to listen to it incessantly, but this year I have felt absolutely no connection to the holidays. It's very strange to be sweating your ass off in ninety degree weather and see wreaths and garland randomly hanging up in stores. It was amazing to be in London around the holiday season - Harrods beats Macy's any day - but here...not so much. It is December and yet I am waking up covered in sweat because our air conditioner has been broken. Snow? Christmas carols? Doesn't really fit in here. I am fine, however, sitting in the air conditioner watching Elf and Love Actually instead of working on my final paper. Christmas may not translate, but procrastination does.

this is another cab story...

Last night I was riding home in a taxi with Caitlin, Holley, and Maggie. We had just had a goodbye ice cream dinner with our CRA Debby, who is fantastic and leaving the NYU empire, so we all wanted to get our goodbyes in.

So we are driving home and we are all chatting and we're passing a road on our right - there's two men sitting on a scooter waiting to pull out, and for some reason they decided to pull out in front of us.

And then we hit them.

When I say hit, I mean it was a good hit. We saw them coming and our driver slammed on the breaks and I screamed and we all screamed (not for ice cream, we'd already gotten that), but we weren't able to stop fast enough. We ended up tapping them pretty hard, and they the scooter and the two men riding on it just toppled over onto the ground. One of the men got up right away and ran off the road, skipping a little like he'd hurt himself but he was smiling so I took that as my cue to start laughing hysterically. It's terrible, but I found it hilarious. Especially when a car drove by and the man in front leaned out the window, pumped his fist, and yelled at us "OH YEAH! THAT'S GHANA FOR YOU!"

The other guy and the driver yelled at each other for a bit and then the scooter man brought his scooter to the side of the road. He waved over our driver to stop and then I heard the word police and then I wanted to get out and take another cab - I didn't need a repeat of last week. Taxi drivers and policemen and I have too close a relationship. The driver gets out of the car and we are all trying to do the same but because some of the cabs here can be in pretty bad shape, no one's door would open except for mine, and when I tried to get out I wasn't allowed to. Then another man gets into the car and takes on the role of our new driver. The entire time this was happening I was either laughing or was panic stricken trying to get away from the police that may or may not be coming to arrest another of Caitlin and I's taxi drivers. The laughs started again and this time our new driver joined in, so I did not feel as heartless.

It was a lovely way to start a Saturday night.

just a typical afternoon in accra

Let's quickly talk about what happened yesterday.

So Caitlin and I are on our way to Beacon House, the orphanage where we go to hold babies. We get in a cab and tell the driver East Legon, near American International School. Like most cab drivers here he half listens to what we say and just motions for us to get in. Naturally...we miss the turn we have to take and so I'm like, oh hey, you need to turn around, we needed to go left. The cab driver starts complaining about 'meh meh meh you confused me blah blah' so Caitlin and I are like, uh huh, make a u-turn. The first attempt to make a u-turn he is motioned away by a cop who tells him to go further down before he can turn around. We do this and manage to get going the other way.

So now we are heading the other direction...we need to make a left turn but there are no simply left turns in Accra so we end up needing to do another u-turn. The cab driver is moaning like a little girl about this and how long it's going to take. So we get to another area where we can turn and there are two cops patrolling it. One of the cops sees what the driver is trying to do and motions him to stop, but our cab driver ignores him and makes the reverse turn anyway. And then all hell broke loose.

We make the turn and suddenly there's the other cop in front of our car with his hands out YELLING to STOP THE CAR AND PULL OVER. So he pulls over the car, out of nowhere the passenger door and the back door open and the cops are telling me to move over so that they can get in the car with us. They start yelling at the driver and at us and are all like CAN'T YOU READ STREET SIGNS?! YOU CANNOT TURN HERE!!! WE'RE GOING TO THE STATION! And our driver is all blaming it on the girls for 'confusing him' and in his mind ordering him to make illegal turns.

Me and Caitlin hear the word 'station' and are immediately FREAKING out and ready to call Christa, our program director, and tell her about the latest mess we've gotten into so she can spring the two spoiled NYU girls from jail. So we're like, please please pleeeease can we get out of the cab??? We want to leave can we get out?? And the cops are like WE'RE GOING TO THE STATION. So we continue asking them to let us out and finally they're like yes you can get out and get another cab up here. And then they dropped this lovely line:

"We're not trying to kill you. We're trying to save you."

GET ME OUT OF THIS CAB RIGHT NOW.

They let us out at a tro-tro stop and Caitlin and I ran from the car into another cab before the police changed their mind and decided to take the two manipulative obruni girls as well as the reckless driver to the station. It was a lovely experience. As we're driving away in our new cab and staring behind us to make sure we're not being followed, we see our old driver running after us trying to flag us down. Fantastic. He wanted to be paid before he was taken into the police station, so we gave him some money and he took it, but not before informing our new cab driver that "these girls confused me, they told me to go to Legon and then they changed their minds and made me turn around". And all we wanted to do was hold some babies.

little women makes everything better

Early early early Thursday morning we left Niamey, Niger for Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso. The night there had been a HUGE rainstorm and lightning storm that lasted for at least an hour - it was amazing, so leaving Niger the air was a bit cooler than the usual stifling heat. We were able to find the bus station and get tickets without any problems, which we were really lucky with all week - all the books were telling us that this company or this bus was ALWAYS sold out so you had to go days before, but 90% of the time we arrived about an hour before all of our buses and always got tickets. The night before I had started feeling really sick - like very very sluggish and nauseous and just a whole bunch of bad things. So for the twelve hour bus ride to Ouagadougou, I took about four sleeping pills and passed out, only waking up when Holley and Maggie would shake me to hand my passport over or to get off the bus and get a soda. We ended up arriving in Ouaga in about ten hours, so we were there early afternoon, and I will say that it was the quickest bus ride of my life.

When we got to Ouaga (pronounced "Waga") we got into a the most broken down and janky cab I have ever seen - the front window was all cracked and you could not see a thing and the inside had absolutely nothing in it. I didn't care - it was time to go to a hotel. Any hotel. We ended up staying at the Hotel Delwende on - GET THIS - Rue PATRICE LUMUMBA. If I used blog speak I would say that I did a big ZOMG to that. It's amazing to finally hear and see the names that I've been studying. Anyways - we get to the hotel and I am ready to pass out. The only nice thing was that there was a man in our hotel that was in love and would call me 'beauty' and wave whenever he walked by the room because it was so hot we would always leave our door open.

The only thing that could stir me out of bed was the promise of french fries, so we went to Sindibal's, a Lebanese fast food place, to eat, and we had the cutest child waiter in the entire world. He told us he was twelve but he looked about eight and he was the best waiter I ever had even though it was a little disturbing to watch him fetch our drinks and food. After we ate we decided that to get us home somewhat on time we should attempt to find the bus station and get tickets beforehand, so because our driver had no clue where the station was we ended up driving around Ouagadougou for about an hour. Great for pictures, quite annoying to pay for. But we ended up getting to the station and having to decide whether we wanted to leave the next morning and have five hours in Burkina Faso, or stay until Sunday and not get back to Ghana until who-knows-when Monday. After the week we'd been through we really didn't want to go home saying that we had three awful days and two lovely ones, so we decided to stay in Ouaga for a few more days.

So for a few more days, I think I traveled at most about a quarter mile from the hotel. The next morning when we woke up I was so nauseous, achy, and all around disgusting feeling that for the rest of the day that I could not even go to breakfast at this AMAZING patisserie, and after breakfast I made Holley read Little Women aloud to me while I laid on the bed with a cold washcloth over my face. It was a lovely afternoon. We were able to take a little stroll to the Centre National d'Artisanat d'Art Galerie, which is like a big compound with lots of different traders selling bronze and jewelry and clothing. After we shopped there for a bit we made our way to a fabric store - it was at this point in the weekend that I learned the phrase "Je suis malade" (I am sick), so I decided to use it as a bargaining tool with the men working there. I did not care about politeness or social graces - I sat in a chair pointing to the fabric that I wanted and when they would tell me the price I would go "NO! JE SUIS MALADE!" so that they would lower it. The men there were actually really funny and nice - one of them was Holley's soulmate and just kept saying "Love me! Love me!" and asking us if we were married. Also - like HALF of the fabric in this store was from Ghana, and since they knew we were from Ghana they would not let us buy it. We'd pick something up and they'd cut us off and say "NO! That's from Ghana", take it out of our hands, and put it back. I was able to get some lovely fabric from Mali and Niger and after we hung out with these men for like an hour they bought us oranges and taught us the most AMAZING way to eat them - you cut off just the top so you can squeeze it and drink the juice. It was lovely and this style of citrus eating has been brought back to Accra.

Another amazing thing we discovered in Ouagadougou - nun-run restaurants. Seriously - for dinner two nights in a row we ate at these restaurants that were run by nuns, and it was the best food of the trip. Our second night we ate at Restaurant l'Eau Vive, which was outside and beautiful and we had the nicest and sweetest little Asian nun as our waitress and then in the middle of the dinner they brought out an acoustic guitar and sang 'Ave Maria'. The food was also AMAZING - I got potato soup and we all got these great ice cream desserts and it was so homey and comforting. I loved it. The next night we ate at another nun restaurant -this one was also a hotel so it was more like a dining hall than a restaurant. They even made us special vegetarian food - I got potato soup AGAIN and roasted potatoes (I do not understand the nuns obsession with potatoes but I have NO problem with it) and baguettes (great thing about being in Francophone countries - fantastic baguettes everywhere you go). No singing this time, but it was still lovely as anything.

Second to last piece of drama in Fall Break 09 - this time it was my turn again. For most...okay all of the time in Ouaga I was pretty much only able to leave the hotel for like an hour before I had to go back and rest and force Holley to read to me. I could walk for about ten minutes before needing to sit down - I was having chills at night, I was achy all day, had a constant headache, and I was incredibly nauseous and having terrible stomach pain. I was the most fun travel partner ever to exist. So by Saturday morning it had progressed into me having dizzy spells and not able to swallow anything because it had become painful, and Mama Maggie decided enough was enough. She had consulted her guidebook and decided that I could have malaria. Now, I do not take my malaria pills on a regular basis whatsoever. I'm supposed to take them everyday...and I have a terrible memory and probably remember every four days. So Maggie starts reading to me about malaria and how it is fatal if not treated and you shouldn't let it go too long...so we decide to get to a clinic. Second hospital visit of the trip. I walked in and said "JE SUIS MALADE!" and then I let Maggie talk and had her come in when I saw the doctor so she could translate for me - after we chatted he said that he was pretty sure it was malaria, but that we'd do a test to be sure. The test turned out to be the MOST PAINFUL finger prick of my entire life - he would not stop squeezing blood out of my finger and I was wailing and complaining to Maggie and the technician was laughing at me. The doctor must've heard me because he came in and asked the technician if he was "enjoying the Americans" - I'm sure he was. So I wait for the test and it comes back...negative! Yay! Which meant that...I had an intestinal infection. Disgusting. So the doctor asks me like twenty times if I'm pregnant and if I'm sure I'm not pregnant and if there's any chance I could be pregnant and then prescribes me four different medicines that I have to take three times a day - I have never felt more like a pill popper than those five days where I was ingesting six pills at at time three times a day.

Last piece of drama - it really is Holley's story but I will give a basic rundown because who knows when she will finish her recap of fall break. Sunday morning we're leaving the hotel and we're chatting about the week and how NOTHING more could happen - we're in the clear. We get in a cab, take it to the bus station, and it drops us off literally twenty feet from the bus. As we're driving up a bunch of people run up to the car to sell us this or that and we're walking to the bus and I look back and see Holley's face - and hear her say that her camera was gone. Twenty feet from the bus and one of us gets pickpocketed. It was terrible. It was just...not good. But to Holley's credit, she let it BE KNOWN that it was not good.

And then we got on the bus, which is going to be about 18 hours, and they tell us that we're going to make as few stops as possible because of the armed robbers that attack vehicles driving through the night.

And so concludes Fall Break 09 everyone. It's been fun!

hungry hungry hee-pohs

Day Five. YAY I'M ALMOST DONE WITH THIS. So day five, Wednesday, was our second day in Niamey. After eating a breakfast of leftover pizza because the idea of eating three real meals a day was now strange to us, we decided to head to Boubon, a village outside of Niamey where there was supposed to be a market with fantastic pottery and the chance to ride on boats down the river.

We read that in Niger people dress as formal as they can afford to, which we saw as our cab driver wore a striped suit with nothing underneath. The ride took about a half an hour, so we were able to see some amazing views of the country - all this orange and red and dried up lakes and rivers. We drove into Boubon and it looked like something out of a National Geographic magazine - all the buildings and houses were made of clay and mud but there were so many of them it created this network of pathways. When we drove up we were approached by a group of guys who started asking where we were from and who told us that if we really wanted to see the real Boubon, we would need one of them as our guide. We started negotiating prices and after telling them that we were poor students, they told us that we could pay whatever we had. "I have nothing, so I will pay you nothing." I told him, and he responded with, "You pay me nothing, I will still be your guide. WELCOME TO BOUBON!!" And we were best friends.

The first thing that our guide, Soumaila, showed us was the animal market. Which was lots and lots of animals herded together with lots and lots of people standing around them. Donkeys, cows, goats, and then a little bit way was a group of about six camels hanging out. They were the epitome of chill and all I wanted to do was ride them until I saw their skin that was all raw and exposed from carrying around people like me all day. So I left them alone. I did find out, though, that camels are worth about 500,000 CFAs (about 1100 dollars), but that they don't eat camels because their meat doesn't taste very good. Goats cost about 50,000 CFAs - they're pretty much disposable. In fact --> horror goat story - when we were riding on the bus home we passed this motorcycle that was driving with a goat tied up on the back of it, and I got to watch the goat fly off the back of the motorcycle and land on the road, still all tied up, after the driver went over a little bump. It was disturbing.

So anyway, after we saw the animal market we went to the regular market, where there was lots of fabric and scarves and clothes to buy. I was bartering with a man for some fabric and he was arguing with me that "even a black woman would pay 6,000 CFAs" - but he still gave it to me for 5,000. There were lots of children running around looking for bottles because bottles are like the "it" thing among children. Not everyone spoke French which was nice for us - our guide told us that common languages in Boubon were Hausa and German (through all of our travel in West Africa we were often asked if we spoke German - I don't know if it was because we were white or because we gave off the European vibe, probably a combination of both).

After the market we went down to the riverbank and got in a canoe to cross the river - yes, a canoe. It was made of wood and I got to sit next to our guide who would very nicely scoop out the water that was collecting at the bottom of the canoe and would grab onto me when we were tipping back and forth. It was very fun. Across the river was an old campground where there were all these huts you could sleep in and a pool that had not been used in several years and a restaurant. We were pretty much brought there to spend money, which we did, and to get to know our guide. We started talking to him about if he was married and if he wanted to be married, and he told us about how he was pursuing his psychology degree but was working as a teacher now and hating it. He also said that he wanted to get married but that women required a lot of things, so he needed a steady job first, and that he was also looking for a woman who was educated like he was, not a village woman. He looked like he was in his late twenties, but when we asked him his age he told us he was thirty-five, and we were all shocked and demanded to see his license. He was born in 1968, so he was actually not 35...he was 41.

Once we had gotten to know our guide a little too well we got back on the canoe in search of hippos - by this time the sun was right overhead it was ridiculously hot and all I wanted to do was jump in the mud brown river water but I couldn't because we had read in the guidebook that hippos are incredibly dangerous and love eating people. Fun fact about hippos - according to our guide they're really good-tasting. We had been paddling around for quite a while without anything happening, although we did get to go past lots of people on the shore taking baths in the water. There were two young guys who were the ones bringing us around in the canoe, and they would randomly yell out "HEE-POH HEE-POH!!!" and bang the oars against the boat. Soumaila also got in on the hippo calling - he started yelling out some nonsense song in another language, and when we asked what he was doing, he answered "I'm singing to it,", as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The first time they called out "hee-poh" in a normal voice I expected to see it lurking over to our boat to topple us over and eat us, but we saw the head and the little ears and it seemed to just be hanging out and swimming. After awhile it went back underwater and swam some more, and it was quite a bit of a wait before we saw its head pop up again. After we were able to see it about three times our canoe-ers started asking us, "It is good? It is good?" - they were bored and ready to go back. When we got back to the water we had a photo session with our Soumaila and the canoe boys and then got ready to go - we did end up paying Soumaila even though I had promised him I had nothing, because he did an excellent job and we wanted to contribute to his 'find a wife' fund since he was 41 and getting really old.

We spent the last night in Niamey at the Grand Hotel watching the sunset over the Niger River, which was lovely and a good way to end our time in NIamey, which was my favorite place we went over the whole week. An extra add in about Niger - the people in Niamey were so nice. Everyone was really helpful and always wanted to chat with us and made sure we said "Bonjour" before we asked them a question or started talking to us. Later that night we went to an ATM to get money - all the 24-hour ATMs are guarded by one or two police officers, and in Niamey after saying hello to us they literally stood outside of the door while we got our money and made sure that we had locked the door behind us. Such gentlemen. The next day we were planning on going to Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso. Our time there would be just as dramatic as the first half of the week, with another visit to the hospital and (gasp) a theft!

the day we went back to America...for an hour

Day Four --> The next day after our fantastic Monday of traveling we woke up at the crack of dawn and booked it out of our nasty hotel. We were trying once again to get to Koure to see some giraffes because thus far in the trip all that we had seen was hours and hours of roadside scenery. It was gorgeous, but we needed something more.

We had learned our lesson and decided to take an actual bus going to Niamey that would drop us off in Koure - this bus was exactly like a tro tro in that there were tons of people crammed into it, but the engine actually worked and it was not completely rusted on the inside. It was probably about an hour or so until we reached Koure and got dropped off, and I will say that I am so happy we did not continue to Koure the night before from Dosso, because we would have been worse off here than staying in the town with kidnapping warnings against Americans. Koure consists of a roadside shack and a couple of buildings where the giraffe guides work. That is it. No restaurants, no hotels, nothing. The only reason we knew it was the right place was the sign that advertised 'the last remaining herd of giraffes in West Africa'. Oh yes - we saw them.

We negotiated a price with the guides, which pretty much is like a standoff between the tourists and the locals - we say a reasonable price, they say an outrageous price, we raise our price, and then they stare at us for awhile until we pretend we're walking away and then they agree. This is usually how it works - at the giraffes it was about an hour long process trying to figure out a price with the guides and then with the driver, who was asking us to pay a hundred dollars to drive us the 12 kilometers into the bush to find the giraffes. It was ridiculous, and he wasn't backing down, and for a second it looked like we would be getting back on a tro tro to take us into Niamey, but because we were so desperate to do something other than ride in a car we ended up paying more than we should have. We deserved it after what we had been through.

OH MY GOSH I AM SO GLAD WE DID NOT ATTEMPT TO WALK TO FIND THESE GIRAFFES. We would have walked into the desert in Niger and never been seen again. So we get in the back of the driver's pickup truck and we start driving down these old paths that have been made in the bush. Our guide is in the back of the truck with us holding a stick and without talking he would point the stick in the right direction to show the driver where to go. I have no clue how he knew - I would pretend to be a guide and look for giraffe heads that I assumed he could see but I saw nothing. He also has this amazing balance where he would not fall over or even have to hang on while we are barreling down these dirt paths with so many bumps - I was sitting on top of Maggie's bag and it was like going tubing on the lake. I was getting so much air every time we went over a bump that I was holding onto the sides of the truck and to Maggie and Holley with all my might.

We drove for maybe a half an hour when we found them. The first ones we saw were a grown giraffe and a baby giraffe standing next to each other in front of a tree - it was like a scene out of the Lion King and I was expecting them to bow down to Simba. These animals really are freaks of nature - their spots look painted on, they are incredibly tall but also bony and their necks are leaning forward like they are constantly slouching. But they're beautiful - as you can see, and we were literally fifteen feet from them. After we saw the first two we noticed four or five more standing at another tree or eating a bit further away from a branch. It was an amazing moment being able to watch them so closely without them even acknowledging we were there. As the sign said, this is the last remaining herd of giraffes in West Africa - the number of them left is also rapidly decreasing, I think now there are about fifty, so it's not even certain how long they will be around. AMAZING and so beautiful and ridiculous - I can now say I have stood in the presence of giraffes and I feel a connection to these lanky and awkward creatures.

On the drive back from the bush we passed a HUGE group of obrunis sitting under a tree eating lunch and we flipped out. Obrunis with cars = a possible ride for us, and we were all over it. We waited at the giraffe hut with the other guides until they drove back with their guide, and then we really awkwardly introduced ourselves and relied on being foreign and American to help us out when we asked them if we could sit in the back of their pickup trucks into Niamey. Luckily they were very friendly and super nice Norwegians and Americans with lots of adorable children who are living here for a couple years and doing mission work, and they agreed. Although we got incredibly sunburned on the 45 minute ride in, we also got an amazing view and a drop off right to our hotel in Niamey.

In Niamey we stayed at the Auberge Dragon, which is probably the nicest hotel we stayed in during our entire trip, mostly because of the location. We were right next to a roundabout where the Grand Hotel is, which is right on the river and is where the rich businessmen and super wealthy families all stay. They have a beautiful terrace and pool with an amazing view, and we were able to walk over and hang out there whenever we wanted. Our hotel was also really clean and had a television where we could watch Shakira music videos, so I was a big fan. I was also a big fan of Niamey and Niger in general - it's ridiculously hot there, but it's also beautiful and everyone is so friendly and we had our best days of the trip there.

After we checked into the hotel, it was early afternoon so we went and visited the Grand Mosque - it was absolutely gorgeous and we were able to get a private tour through it. The ceilings and columns were decorated with marble from Morocco and there was so much light in the mosque that every room was bright and beautiful - the tour guide only spoke in French so Maggie was translator once again and she did an excellent job. We were brought into the mens prayer rooms which was not allowed, but the tour guide told us he didn't care so it was fine. We took our shoes off outside but throughout our visit we had to go back outside to get to another part of the mosque, so our guide would yell "HAH HAH HAH" to get us to run because the ground was so hot. It was an exciting visit.

Our day so far had been amazing, so as per the pattern something had to go wrong to balance it out. After the tour we made our first visit to an ATM because we were all running low on cash, and then Holley realized her card was not working and she wasn't able to get any money out. No money in West Africa, a place where putting things on a card is just not possible, is not a good thing. So we went upstairs to talk to important bank people and while we were there Maggie realized that her eye, which had been red for a few days, was getting worse and she needed some medical attention. I thought Maggie's eye problem was because she decided to put her contacts in on the back of the pickup truck going to see the giraffes, but she swears it had been hurting before then. The bank problem was not solved and we had no clue where to find a clinic, so we decided to go to the US Embassy because we are Americans and we were sick of dealing with problems on our own.

We got to the embassy and we all expected to be immediately let in and given soda and candy and put on a couch so we could cry and talk about our problems and they would solve them. That's not really how it was. First of all, it was really awkward when the guard asked what we wanted and our response was, "Well, our friends eye really hurts and our other friend can't get any money out of the ATM so...we came here." We had to wait like ten minutes and then be searched by security and our phones got taken away and when we got walked through there was not even a McDonald's there. Lame. I will say that in the room where we were there were magazines and couches and water and movies sensationalizing America where all these different people are smiling and saying, "I AM America" - all of us got a little teary. I feel bad for the man who had to deal with us - he was very nice and listened to all of our complaints and then told us that he couldn't let Holley use the phone to call her bank and he couldn't let Maggie see the doctor at the embassy, but he did tell us never to go to Dosso again because there are kidnapping threats and that he would register us so that if we did end up in another little town like Dosso someone would notice we were missing. He also gave Maggie the names of some clinics and let us take home Time magazine, so it wasn't a complete waste of a visit, and we got to be on American soil for an hour.

The next stop in this incredibly long day was to the clinic to fix Maggie's eye - there was a coke machine and gossip magazines so I was completely happy and Maggie was able to get medicine for conjunctivitis. This would be the first of two hospital visits during the trip, but I never felt like they were unclean or that I wasn't getting good service - both of the clinics we went to were wonderful and took such good care of us. I mentioned earlier the Grand Hotel - it was beautiful and definitely way otu of our price range, but because we are a bunch of foreign girls we were able to take advantage of their services because eveyrone assumed we were guests there. So while Maggie went with a hotel worker to get her medicine and Holley tried to work out her bank situation I went out on the terrace and watched the sunset over the river. It was beautiful and it was so nice to feel like a normal person again. We had been doing so much hectic traveling that we really needed a break and needed to be able to stay in one place for awhile. After we stopped at the pharmacy we decided to binge on dinner at this diner. It was like being transported back to America and we were able to eat french fries and pizza and watch this adorable little boy who stared at us the entire meal smiling and then hiding. It was lovely. Another fantastic thing about Niamey - they have amazing patisseries which we also took advantage of. It was so nice to be able to eat and go back to the hotel and relax and not worry about waking up at an ungodly hour to find a tro tro - but that absolutely did NOT mean our 'little' challenges were over.