Finn is Two!

Okay, so he's now two and then some, but his father has been busy doubling his school's population this semester, and hasn't had much time to blog! Of course if he hadn't shown up several weeks early in the first place, I would have been on time with this entry. It seems like only yesterday that Carmilla's water was breaking in the bar in Humboldt. (Enjoy that last line while you can, because despite its truth, I'm sure I will soon be instructed to remove it promptly!)

If young Cuyler were a few years older, he would be declaring to anyone who would listen that he got ripped off for his second birthday. Given its proximity to Christmas, we are likely to hear such utterances before too long so we should enjoy the silence, as it were. I should note that on few other matters is Finn silent and he is developing a rather healthy Ghanaian accent and palate. He is also a very enthusiastic footballer and loves animals about as much as Cohen did. You will also note, upon a brief study of the pictures, that the family tradition of the "blankie" is alive and well (At least one other family member still has a blanket and it is also blue...go figure!). Actually the blankie buddies pictured are pretty good pals and though he fights it every step of the way, Finn is very much the baby of the family. Happy birthday Cuyler Griffin James Land!

We Like Them Big, We Like Them Chunky

For those who have already had the belly-tickling pleasure of seeing Madagascar 2, the reference in the title to Moto-Moto will be immediately apparent, and you will have already guessed I am about to write about hippos. For the rest of you...what are you waiting for? Our trip to Wechiau Hippo Sanctuary brought us up close and personal with several hippos as they soaked and wrestled in the Black Volta, the mighty river that marks a section of northwestern border between Burkina Faso and Ghana.

The above picture may at first glance appear to resemble an archaic dugout canoe like those (previously!) used by various Aboriginals around the world, but whose time has long since passed due to mass production and innovation (not to mention safety regulations!). This is certainly how it appeared to us we nervously looked around for the "real" boat that would be taking the six of us and our two guides to get up close and personal with Africa's most dangerous animal. We soon realized that this was none other than a standard issue eco-safari transport and viewing vehicle--Ghanaian style! If we had not just covered yet another hour of rough terrain to the Wechiau eco-tourism office where we paid our hefty guide fees, followed by thirty minutes of off-road rally driving in the mini-van, and if it did not just happen that we could see a large group of hippos upshore, I'm sure we would not have hesitated to take a pass. Had we done so, we would have missed out on one of the most wonderful experiences of our lives.

I didn't spend too long feeling bad about the fact that our two rather slim guides had to do all the paddling, as I was too busy peeing in my pants. I have read and heard in many places that more people are killed by hippos in Africa each year, than by any other creature, and as the two youngest grew restless in their "one size fits none" life vests, Carmilla and I grew increasingly nervous! As you can see, the hippos are pretty darn blatant about acknowledging your presence, something you would prefer they didn't do. There were seven hippos in the family we saw, and they took turns disappearing under the water (for at least enough time to swim under our dugout canoe) after glaring at us menacingly for five to ten minutes.

We stayed on the water for about thirty minutes and eventually the hippos actually started playing and wrestling underwater. It must have been unusual as our guides were both highly amused. We were completely alone on the Black Volta River, and we were apparently very lucky to see the hippos so quickly as it can take a couple of hours. We were only passed by a couple of village fisherman, returning with their catch. This was probably the highlight for Finn as he got to see a bucket of living fish, rather than some silly ol' distant ears and eyes poking up through the water. And of course at no point did any of them break into song and start shaking their hippo booties.

It was obviously worth it, at any price, and most of these sanctuaries are run as eco-tourism outfits wherein the profits go directly into the community to create employment, build schools, or develop clinics. This particular operation was set-up through a partnership with Canada, so it was nice for the kids to see what kind of work their country does abroad. We bought a few clay pots that were a mere two ghana cedis each and are quite lovely. We were also swarmed as we tried to drive away, because we started handing out balloons to the children of the community. Most children in Ghana have enough to eat--unlike many other parts of Africa--but there is still very little left for some of the pleasures of childhood, so we try to bring along something to give out while we travel, such as toffees, biscuits or balloons. Since this was part of Christmas safari, it felt all the more appropriate.

Holy Mole...It's a Christmas Safari!

Akwaaba! Since I am now getting desperate fan mail from my loyal blog-heads (okay, I'm exaggerating--not all three of my readers have e-mailed), demanding that I update the blog and write a tell-all exposé about our Christmas safari, I thought I better start typing. There has also been some concern that we were trampled by elephants, swallowed whole by hippos, or pummeled by swing-by bananas raining down from the canopy, and while any of these things was theoretically possible, we have lived--completely and utterly intact--to tell the tales of our holiday adventures in Ghana. While it was not our first stop, Mole National Park (pronounced mawl-ee) was certainly a highlight for our family and it was the ultimate destination, so it is where I will begin.

All told, a trip to Mole from Accra will set you back about ten to twelve hours each way. We actually stopped in Kumasi to break up the journey and take in some of the sights in and around that city, but I'll save that city for a later entry. If you should make the journey, please do not allow yourself to assume that the description people offer of the road on the final leg into Larabanga and the park gate (less than a hundred kms. and a solid two hour, trafficless drive) is an exaggeration. People from developed countries have not the experience nor the vocabulary to describe experiences, though those who know what lies beneath the snow and ice of a Winnipeg or Saskatchewan winter (ie: Potholes to the Centre of the Earth), or who have seen the bombed-out wartime roads seen from a jeep's eye view in say Mash or Saving Private Ryan might have an inkling. Please indulge me, so that I might conjure a demonstration for you to try at home.

1. On top of your washing machine, spread clay out, simulating a steady rippled effect. Let it dry.
2. Using a small hatchet or a crowbar, randomly punch gaping, one inch holes through the clay and through the top of your washer. Rest assured, you cannot overdo this.
3. Place a large, unbalanced load in your washing machine and wait until the spin cycle turns your machine into an angry, jerking bulk of terror.
4. Set a Matchbox (Hot Wheels will suffice) 1998 Chevy Venture mini-van on top of your washing machine.
5. Invite as many of your family members into the laundry room as will fit. The simulation will be more authentic if some are agitated, hungry, have to pee, or are missing Canada thus blaming you for their departure as well as for their nausea, while intermittently shouting "Make it stop," "I want off," "Who wants to see stupid elephants anyway," or gently weeping. Note that the smallest one among you (a.k.a. "Finn the Cherub") should feel free to continue sleeping and snuggling his blankie while dreaming of mummy jogging with him in the womb.
6. Welcome to hel...er, the road to Mole.

This picture represents a small part of the pay-off. This said, no one who describes the road will ever suggest that you should skip Mole, as it is unspoiled, inexpensive, and loaded with African wildlife. We arrived--shaken and stirred, our innards reconfigured--just in time to behold sunset across an African Savannah, while humming Hakuna Matata. Our chalet had its own little porch that overlooked the watering hole where we later hiked down into to see an elephant up close and a little too interested in us. During the first morning, the camp was swarmed by a large family of baboons who raided the garbage, and made a rather terrifying attempt to steal our children's breakfast cereal. Later, the children said "Why didn't you take a picture?" I explained that the hungriest baboon was roughly Brontë's size and twice Cohen's weight and their safety was more a concern than a photo op. Cohen is still disappointed that he will not be a famous YouTube video.

We went on a driving safari on the first morning and when we rounded the first corner, there were dozens of baboons, warthogs, and antelope so it set a wonderful tone for the rest of the journey. We did not see an elephant on the first safari and returned to the station feeling a little disappointed. It didn't last though as the Mole Motel has a swimming pool! By the early afternoon, an elephant had come to the watering hole and we hiked into the basin to watch it cool down. A few massive crocodiles slid into the water as we arrived and there were some grey monkeys running around beside us. When the elephant started to swim toward us and we all found ourselves not needing the zoom on our cameras, our guide suggested we leave.

We also saw bush and water buck, one other type of monkey, another species of antelope (Kobe, I think), dozens of bird species and even a Civet cat. There are some lions in the park, but they are nowhere near the camp, which is probably a good thing. Our guide drove with us (again, in our van...Go Chevy Venture!) and directed us for nearly two hours and the charge for his services was less than 5 Ghana cedis. The chalet, with a huge bed, fridge, AC, private bath and shower, and breakfast included was a mere 50 Ghana cedis! This probably makes it one of the least expensive safaris in Africa, and it is certainly the safest!

We woke up on Christmas morning and gathered around the impromptu "Christmas lamp" to discover that Santa had found us all the way in northern Ghana. The kids were definitely impressed and the stockings contained a few comforts of home such as Oreos, and a few West African surprises as well. Under the tree, Santa left Cohen some carved elephants, Brontë a hand-made leather and wood jewelry box, Materia a Dora the Explorer backpack, and Finn a set of rubber reptiles. Everyone got a Christmas "African animal" ornament from Global Mamas NGO, made from recycled glass beads. While the under-the-tree haul was decidedly thinner than a typical Christmas, I don't think anyone was disappointed--especially after we opened the curtains to see the sun breaking over Africa.