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.