end of January again, the wanderlust grabs me and I choose a different kind of Ghana, north to visit. My Destination: Bolgatanga, the locals affectionately call "Bolga", is the capital of the Northeast, the "Upper East region," located near the border with Burkina Faso.
departure.
bus: The landscape changes from the evergreen bush land in the heart of the Ashanti highlands of grasslands to the barren savannah of the north. The bus's Tamale, the Hauptsatd the Northern Region ". Even here, the first fall on the differences seen so far. More Bikes, dry, dusty and a variety of mosques. We pass traditional mud huts and vast grasslands that have been set on fire to keep the land fertile
Two hours drive from Tamale up to Bolga. arrival in the dark. The air is dry a lot and somehow it smells like spring. A slight breeze can chill one of Harmattanwindes; unusual.
I think, finally, a modest house, explore a little the district where my hostel is located. I'm learning a little Dorfjungend know, hang out beside the closed container stands. All freeze.
The next day I wake up from the morning prayer of the Muslims on. The wind carries the polyphonic singing of the mosques as a warm tapestry of sound in the new morning. For me it is like spring. A warm breeze and the sun in the neck, it is still cold. Dew on the leaves.
On this day, I walk a little through the city. Bolga is actually a big village. 65,000 people from Western influence and a little spoiled. This is called "FraFra", a dialect of the other languages spoken has little in common. Like everywhere, people are helpful and friendly. I'm talking to several locals, I rent a bike and explore as the city. I get the local "Arts Centre" by where traditional wicker and straw and wood carvings are offered. I'm about to buy me a dusty phonograph, but let it be but then.
In Bolga are few taxis, let alone Trotros, but all the more motorcycles and bicycles. I pass a motorcycle rental and rent a motorcycle to me spontaneously, with the morning I will explore tomorrow and the surrounding area.
evening I am meeting with a Volunteers and their local friends that I had learned about noon in an art gallery.
motorcycle trips: over bumpy dirt roads and potholes strewn roads I drive north to Paga, the last town before Burkina Faso. The landscape is dusty and barren, grassland with scattered trees, the baobab trees are particularly impressive.
at a small lake you can visit the sacred crocodile of Paga. For this purpose, before you buy a small chicken from the locals and sacrifices that those crocodiles. Less spectacular but at least you have the sacred crocodiles visited by Paga.
, of much greater interest, however, the old slave camp of Nania. Here once drove the slave masters to sell their people together to them after long marches and other hardships on the white man. Finally, the most slaves were then shipped from Cape Coast on to Europe or America. The entire camp is of natural origin. Thus, no buildings to see in this sense but only rock and stone formations, where a similar purpose was given.
I visit the food court - in rocks hewn depressions, from which was eaten - punishment room, guard tower and Entertainment space. The latter is of more interest: On various rocks can create it through the strike with another stone, the variety of tones. In most cases, these bell-like sound with a vast array of dull to bright and sharp sounds.
through the steppe on gravel roads and dry river beds I get to Sirugue, a small village on the border immediately. The vegetation is suffering from the dry season, yellow grasses and sparse shrubs and trees. Otherwise, continue. Here you can visit traditional mud huts and demonstrate pottery and painting classes. The latter I will fail and a sightseeing tour the small complex which has a hint of strong tourist, although I doubt that all too often strayed a visitor in the steppe. Several mud huts with traditional paintings, a sales center and a bust of Kofi Annan, who visited this facility several years ago. Overall a nice place, probably more because of the silence and space as on account of the village.
go on my way back to me, of course, in the middle of the desert in my gasoline. Two locals to help me, show me where I can buy fuel. From a large container is filled this through a strainer into an empty wine bottle and from this from the tank. A bottle costs 2 Cedis.
some point, I'm also back in Bolga.
The next day I drive south. My goal is to "singing hills of Tongo" and "Tengzu Shrine" are.
the way, means or Bolga Bolgatanga such thing as "stony place", what is even more true in the area of Tongo.
I ride off road at first, then on potholed roads on the vast plateau of the "Tongo-hills"; embedded large stone and rock formations in a withered Grassland. In the visitor center welcomes me a local to me will tell everything.
first but I have the "Chief" audition of the village, which is unfortunately due to negotiations with the chief of Tamele prevented. Nevertheless, I will allow the vast palace consisting of traditional mud huts and places to visit victims. Since the beginning the Chief lives with his entourage, to which one counts his wives, servants and members (300 people).
My guide leads me through rocky terrain to the various shrines, which accept only animal blood and other donations as offerings. Previously, we have obtained the blessing of the "caretaker" who always wears his traditional costume, consisting of shoulder jewelry, stick and bag.
after another, looking a the hollow skull of the sacrificed donkeys at the Donkey Shrine "contrary. The people hope through this sacrifice the performance of one or more requests. When a request is fulfilled also requires a donation to the chief.
It follows the far more important shrine: About rocky terrain to climb a small hill. Then you have to undress as far up the upper body and knees naked, before we can penetrate to the actual shrine. Because a sacrifice taking place now I am forced to wait.
the foot of the Tongo Hills extends the savannah of the north shrouded in the reddish dust that is whipped up by the Sahel winds all the more and the scene is blurred. One can see the glint of pale red Volta.
continue on gravel and boulders up to Tengzu shrine. is on a big pile in a corner of the cave opened to one side a victim floor, made from animal bones and feathers, on the other side is the priest who accepts the sacrifice and mediator between the spirits of the shrine, victims and people. Unfortunately, I have no wish that I could let me meet with an offering, so I cast one last look at the vastness of the plateau.
My guide shows me some other caves and rock formations, had sought, inter alia, a cave where the locals in times of World War II hideout and a boulder that had been used until not so long as classrooms.
short break. Width, then it goes on.
I get to know some locals, the very next day I want to show the area. With the bike, it goes to a small reservoir, which dams up river, an arm of the Volt. We eat a traditional dish from the north, the so-called "bean-cake, a kind of cookie, made from beans, which is offered on Sundays.
learn on that and my last day in the north following more locals I know, I know more practice the traditions.
polygamy is widespread, not least because most of the Muslim Majority. One local resident with whom I was traveling the last few days said that he has three other stepmothers. I also reported that women from Bolga are the most expensive in all of Ghana. You have five bulls and other poultry animals plus raise dogs as a dowry for the chosen one before the man's wife is legal.
All in all, the Bolga an original place, proud of its traditions, and in peaceful harmony with nature and each other. Muslims, Christians and other religions to live peacefully with each other
Overall I think the mentality in a much quieter Bolga and less corrupted by Western influence. It will be treated less than white men, but open to receive and more than on an equal level regarded as standing in the rest of Ghana.
departure for Kumasi
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