Dedicated to Theo

It all started when our group decided that 80 cedis to renew our visas at the embassy was too easy and for that price we might as well travel outside the country, return to the border, and get the same extension. Simple, right? If I had only known how a simple stamp and the journey to get such a thing would end up being so so so much more.

The first plan was to travel through Togo, onto Benin since they are so close together, and then back. But once everyone told the various things they wanted to do in Benin, it was determined that we needed a more extended time period to see it all. So we were just going to simplify and just spend a nice weekend in Lome, the capital of Togo.

And then they had the elections. And thus riots protesting the rigged results.

So it comes to Thursday night, where someone had been shot on Monday, and our visas expired on the coming Sunday. Should we go on to Togo? Heather, Chrissy, and I decided that we had gotten the visa to Togo, we were going. But instead of traveling into Lome in the South, we would travel north to Ho and cross the border and turn straight back around since the violence was concentrated in the capital and lower areas. Other people braved going to Lome anyway, while others would just get the embassy extension that all this planning had been to avoid.

So Saturday morning, us three little white girls leave campus at 5:30 in the morning to head north. We had mapped out our route and saw that Cedi Beading Factory was right off the main road, so we would make a pit stop there on the way to Ho.

We get to the main tro-tro station in Accra and ask to go to Kpong, the town we thought was closest to the beads. Our accents did us a disservice and we got sent to the tro-tro headed to Akropong. Thankfully I checked our map, found the misunderstanding, discovered that it would be better to go to Somaya anyway and so we asked for a tro there instead.

A man told us he had a private car (or direct car? It was unclear) to Somanya. But a different man who was selling Mentos led us straight to the tro-tro we needed. I expected him to then ask us to buy some of his mints, as most vendors do after helping you, but he just walked away. This was the first of many angels on our journey.

This first ride was relaxing and we reached Somanya sooner than I expected. We asked a lady where we should get out to catch a tro on to Kpong, planning to head that direction, get off at the bead factory and proceed on our tour. We got out where she said, made our transfer and were proud of ourselves. On this second tro, a woman asked us where we were going. We told her and she said we had passed it! But then others argued with her so she gave up. We should have heeded her warning. We reached Kpong, having not passed any beads and then asked around where we should go. A mate of a new tro promised to know where it was and to take us. He didn’t wait to fill all the seats- taking only the three of us, which is odd since tros are always crammed. We arrived- after backtracking a ways from the station- at the Beading ANNEX. Which was basically just a stand on the side of the road selling the beads we wanted to see be made. After making a few purchases, the vendor was kind enough to hand us a map giving directions from the annex to the factory we were searching for.

So armed with our maps, we stand by the road to get a tro BACK to Kpong and then a different transfer towards Somanya. Our first tro had passed straight through Somanya, to drop us in 2 towns away- the source of all the confusion. So we are waiting, and waiting, and waiting and all these tros are full or can’t take on three. A nice man from the restaurant we were in front of on this highway came out and finally flagged one down for us. Back in Kpong, we finally showed our handy maps and headed to the right place.

We were so excited to finally be at the junction and walked the 500 m down this dirt path to finally reach the bead factory. It was a really nice compound, and Mr. Cedi greeted us and directed us to a man who showed us the processes for all five types of beads they make. They pound glass or powder or antique beads down, then pour them in molds to shape them. We saw the furnaces, which are made in termite hills, and the finished product. It was all very chill and intriguing. They don’t charge for the tour, but courtesy required a visit to the gift store. After we all picked out a few things, Mr. Cedi each gave us a “dash”- a bracelet thrown in extra to what we had already purchased- since apparently the man at the annex had said we were on the way and obviously had been lost.

It was now time to proceed on to Ho- after buying a little bread and convincing a woman at the filling station to let us use the non-public washroom. Arriving at Kpong once again with a small argument with the taxi driver who changed the fare mid-ride, we got a tro-tro to Ho. We had to wait for about 15 minutes for it to fill- no big deal- and we were off.

Watching the beautiful Volta region hills and lush foliage out the window, it felt so nice to be outside Accra and to have encountered such nice people. The week before had been stress filled, with the uncertainty about traveling for the weekend and feeling a bit frustrated with the way things are in Ghana. I had woken up very nervous in the morning, uncertain how our first uncoordinated trip would go, but as we arrived at Ho at 3, we were in great spirits.

The next objective was to find a ride to the Togo border, cross it, and turn straight back around into Ghana, arriving back in Ho for dinner. After a mate directed us to the tros that were headed to Lome- the very thing we had traveled all this way to avoid- we finally found the ticket stand for the Ho-Kpalime journey. We expected to get in a tro-tro, but were directed to a 4x4 truck that was like the one we had taken our safari at Mole in. Undeterred, we climbed in the back as the first three passengers. The driver urged us to move to the bench seat in the middle, since there were supposed to be fifteen people in this thing. Not fully understanding what this meant, we moved and waited for it to fill.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

And started to get anxious about how far the border actually was, and if we had time to get back before dark, and why weren’t people going to Kpalime?!?!? Only three or four more people had joined us after 45 minutes, meaning we still had to wait for 8, though it was already cramped. The clock is ticking and unstable Togo is waiting who knows how far away.

And when I thought it couldn’t get worse, it started to rain. Just like Young Frankenstein.

At this point, the three of us are about delusional, wondering should we bail on this 4x4. Heather went to check to see if any taxi would take us, but got laughed at. Slowly more people came, though there were several arguments about the driver’s delusion that we could fit that many people in this vehicle. At least I guess that was what it was about- it occurred in French/Twi/Ewe/ Who knows?

Finally, after deciding not to bail because that would cause our own riot, and right when we were just about to pay for the other seats, people arrived and we joyously sang as we left the Ho station 2 hours after getting in the 4x4. It is 5 at this point, and we say that if we get to the border by six, we can take a taxi back into town no problem and be done with this craziness.

So when we arrive at a barrier with a huge building labeled Ghana Immigration Station at 5:55, we are stoked. We say goodbye to all our new friends stuffed in the 4x4, and sorta jig to the immigration officers. We make a point to ask for a 60 day renewal and then it all went downhill. We actually hadn't gotten to the border- Togo was still 20 minutes away and they refused to give us a stamp that night.

So here we are. We have to go into Togo, at night, with no knowledge of French and no place to stay.

Everything we had journeyed all this way to avoid.

I am freaking out at this point. And of course there is no service to call my parents about the change of plans. As we get back into the 4x4, under the eerie cover of darkness, we head towards the unknown. The jungle enclosed the road on both sides and I tried not to think about all the possible things that could leap out at any moment.

The 4x4 stalled a few times, but we eventually reached the actual border. And does it have lights or instructions? Of course not. It is literally a shack on the side of the road, with one lantern, with men yelling in French and directing us with flashlights. They separate us three white girls to sit on a bench, take our passports, and give us no instruction.

At this point, we are taking stock of how much CFAs (Togo currency) we have between the three of us, since we only brought a minimum in case of bribery. We determined we had enough for the night, since the driver had told the Ghanaian immigration leaders he knew of a hotel for us and that he would return us to Ho in the morning.

The Togo officers finally call us into the shack to ask a few questions and return our passports. Everyone in the 4x4 by this point is anxious to get to Kpalime and a bit agitated that they keep having to wait for these girls. We continue on, finally now in Togo, and stop randomly on the side of the road for yet another check point? No one ever really said, just that we all got out and stood awkwardly in this little village, clutching my flashlight and trying not to freak out.

At this point, one of the men from the 4x4 came up to ask us if we were alright and that tell us we shouldn't be worried. We had talked to him a lot, since he was one of the first to get in the vehicle back at the station.

His name is Theo. And he is our guardian angel.

He asked where we were staying in Kpalime and we told him the name of the hotel the driver had told us he would connect us to. Theo shook his head, and told us that it would be way expensive and that there was a hotel near his house he was familiar with and would take us instead.

So after we finally get in the 4x4 for the last time, Theo tells the driver the new plan and we arrive at the hotel. It was such a welcome sight after such a long day and we planned to simply get the room and lock ourselves in to eat the bit of bread and groundnuts we had on us. Theo translates for us and we see the clean triple room for only 6,000 CFA (about 13 dollars). We ask the manager if there is anywhere close to get some water or soda, and he offered the few he had.

But Theo goes, "Oh, are you hungry? We need to get you food." At this point, I am amazed that this man would just help us to get the hotel, let alone stay with us to get food, while speaking French for us the whole time.

So we leave the hotel, but the place around the corner he had in mind was closed. So he called over some moto taxis for us, which are simply a motocycle that you hop on, with no helmet, and hopefully the male driver takes you where you want to go. So I am now riding a motocycle in Togo and it is quite exhilerating because I can just feel the peace that everything is going to be alright.

We arrive at the hotspot in town and Theo makes sure we enjoy fufu and gets us Cocktail de Fruits, this sparkiling fruit juice that we had a bit confusion about when he only called it cocktail. As he showed us proper fufu eating, and laughed at my failed attempts to take enough dough to dip in the soup and not chew as it went down, we talked about life. We told him that we could not thank him enough for the help he had given us with the hotel and dinner.

He told us that one time he was in Australia and that they wouldn't let him through customs. And a stranger had claimed to know him so that he could pass through. And Theo said that ever since then, how could he not help others in such vulnerable situations? Heather then asked if he believed if God puts certain people in our lives at certain points for a reason, and he absolutely agreed, saying that God always provides protection for his children.

We rode the moto taxis back to the hotel and say thanks, good night, and part ways. But Theo said, "The driver says he will pick you up at 8, I will be here at 6:30 to break fast." Oh. OK. You are not done helping us.

We had a long chat about the crazy day we had and the literal God send Theo was for us before crashing in exhaustion. When Theo didn't arrive ontime in the morning, I thought "Well, he helped us out beyond anything last night, that is fine." But he was just running behind and showed up at 7.

We had all expected to go back to a restaurant or go to a nice little stand. But as we kept walking, it became apparent that no, Theo was walking us to his apartment. He graciously invited us in and served us breakfast of coffee and tea with baguettes topped with mayo.

We had planned to go to church in Ho, but our dicussion over breakfast was one of the best services I have ever had. Theo simply discussed the blessings of God, and how therefore he must bless others. And that since he was helping us now, it will all return to him. That the greatness of God, and His unending love was the source of his actions. He told us that he knew we were afraid the night before, but that with God, we must be free of fear and then be free of heart to serve others. His prayer began with a heartfelt song and ended with him imploring for our protection on our journey back.

We went to meet the driver, who told us that he wasn't ready yet but that he would be back soon. So Theo got the man's phone number and told us that if this driver wasn't ready within two hours, we would find a different one. So we return to the apartment and start watching this Nigerian movie. It was horribly made with great dramatic music, but the side commentary Theo made were even more entertaining. The driver called he was ready at 9:15 so we went to meet him again.

The driver had been a little sketchy at our first meeting in the morning, telling Heather he wanted her as a wife and making all these comments. But when we arrived this second time, he only spoke in French and Theo out of the blue told us that we were leaving. Apparently, this man wanted to charge us 20,000 CFA (about 40 dollars) to take us back to Ho, when we had only paid 9 Cedi (about 6 dollars) the night before. Which was absolutely ridiculous! So Theo got one of his friends to drive us to the station to find a different driver.

We found a tro-tro headed to Ho, for 1,500 CFA a person- a much more reasonable price. But Theo seemed uneasy talking to the man, and this was confirmed when the extortionist driver shows up again, yelling about what seemed to be about the broken agreement and now us trying to talk to someone else. So we left again, with a pissed Theo, who told us he was fighting injustice and that he would not let this man ruin our thoughts about Togo. And claims "I will take you to Ho!"

At several times, I had been overwhelmed about this man. He was truly helping us, no strings attached, because that is was what Christians are to do. He had saved us from so many compromising situations and vowed to protect us until we were safely back in Ghana. Heather and I start tearing up because, as Heather said, "You have FRIENDS who wouldn't do all of this for you." There is no other way to describe him but as an angel.

So after stopping to get his passport, we head towards the border. At one point, we get out and calls over more moto taxis. So the breeze on my face, flying by these beautiful mountain vistas that had been terrifying in the dark, headed home, having encountered the spirit of God, I felt so FULL.

So we go through customs at Togo, with Theo smoothing things over a bit in French for us, since we found out later that other American students had given bribes to get back into Ghana. And the Ghanaian officers this morning had no confusion about our visa renewal and let us pass simply. We did a little jig once crossing back into our now homeland, and hopped on the motocycle one last time.

We reached a depot, where Theo found us a shared taxi station wagon thing that only wanted 1.5 cedis from each of us- a dollar essentially- and would take us to Ho. We were so happy, but torn about finally parting ways with our new friend. When we go through Togo again in a few weeks, as planned, we promised to meet him again, but if not, I have no doubts that our reunion in heaven will be amazing.

We had to wait only a little while to fill the station wagon with 10 people- transportation is always jammed here- we got back to Ho, found a simple tro straight to Accra and were content.

I apologize for writing basically a novel, but I feel that the whole tale must be included. Because I know that every little thing- a missed tro here, deciding to come through Ho, it was all meant to be. Because we thus encountered Theo and were blessed beyond belief. There is no way to explain it but it was God.

Especially since my dad pointed out to me when I told them this adventure, chocking on my tears as I tried to find the words to express the actual existence of such a man, something that had completely not connected in all the craziness. His name was Theo, the Greek word for God.