Road Trip...from HELL (Part I)

Friday we attempted to leave Tamale and drive down to Cape Coast, do some sight- seeing, then eventually head to Accra. At least, that was the plan. The day didn’t start out so bad. First of all, we went to the airport to pick up Jonathan’s brother, Daniel, who was coming down to visit during Jonathan’s last week in town. That part was great, because Daniel had also secretly brought Jonathan’s older brother Elan, as a special surprise. Okay, okay, I knew about it, but I get so excited about surprises that I had to make it a point to not say a word! It was great- J was totally surprised, and the 3 Schwartz brothers had a great reunion.

By the time we got back toward our house, toured the hospital, said our goodbyes, and loaded the car and got going, things were getting late. The first disappointment was when we learned that Hamza would not be able to accompany us on the weekend trip, due to space restrictions in the car. It was very disappointing, as we initially thought we had the right size vehicle arranged. Plus he had taken the day off work to come with us. In any case, we regretfully said goodbye to Hamza and hit the road in what I found to be a jalopy. It was 6 people to a pickup truck with one bucket seat in the back. We loaded our luggage in the back and Aziz, Bertina and I squished in the front, while Elan, Daniel, and Jonathan squashed in the back. Not that it was difficult to deduce what a lemon it was—there was one broken window roller-downer, which we all passed around and shared. The front seat would involuntarily slide back and forth with speed bumps. Our ‘tarp’ was a garbage bag which flew off shortly after departure. Nonetheless, off we went.

The only sight we saw that day- the center of Ghana.

We weren’t 2 hours down the road before the first breakdown happened. The truck had sputtered the whole way so we didn’t think anything about it at first, but then we saw the smoke coming out of the hood. We pulled over and learned that the radiator pipe had a hole in it and that the head gasket was about to blow. Thank God we had Elan, a professional motorcycle mechanic, who knew a lot about cars- he’s the one who coaxed Aziz into letting the engine cool down before we poured water in and tried again. For that matter, thank God we had Jonathan’s other brother Daniel, a Rabbi. Cuz prayer is the only thing that got us through that. Also, we discovered an auto shop about a half mile down, which gave us some special glue to patch the hole in the radiator. A temporary fix, perhaps, but we wanted to get going.

So we finally get the car started up again, but we had to make several stops. For example, when it suddenly began raining, we had to grab our backpacks/computers out of the back and bring them in—which is also how we know the tarp was long gone.  Anyway, about an hour later, the smoke and strange noises started again. This time, when we poured water in, the car was so hot that it evaporated right out. At one point, the water came shooting out of the pipe and splashed my hair and dress (I regret that I was just telling Bertina I miss hot showers). Anyway, after another hour of tinkering with pouring water in, and eating some of Daniel’s strawberry-banana cookies that he was brave enough to buy from a roadside stall, we got going yet again.

The next 2 breakdowns are kind of a blur. All I know is that I saw a lot of smoke, the engine blew out LONG before we actually stopped the car, and what was supposed to be a 4 hour drive had become a 12 hour one. When the car was officially pronounced dead, Aziz tried desperately to hail us cabs to travel the remaining 25 minutes to the hotel in Kumasi (since we didn’t have a prayer of getting any further than that on that night). We had trouble because once the drivers saw we were not locals, they multiplied the fees x3. We finally got into the taxis, got to our Chinese hotel, and learned that there were no rooms available.

The Ghanian lady working there talked to Aziz, and finally admitted there was one. Being as it was after 1am and we were beaten down, we asked her to let all 7 of us take it. We get to the room, which might not have been bad if it didn’t smell of poop. Also, the sink wouldn’t drain. We walked about a mile before finding a convenient mart that sold some old yam chips and cold water. That was dinner. So we gave up and called it a night. The Schwartz brothers kindly insisted on taking the floor, while Bertina and I slept on the bed. (Which I later learned from Elan had a gigantic blood stain on the bottom mattress.) Luckily HIV can’t live outside the body for too long.

Dinner

Brainstorming how to catch a bus to Accra the next day