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Kinda proud of myself today. After a dismal Easter Monday I went to sleep promising myself that I would do four things. Pack, Checkout, Get my bank card back, and get my ass on to the bus to Tamale. Two major fears, which involved trying to find which particular Barclays I was at when the machine ate my bank card. No easy feat in a strange African city. Nonetheless, I accomplished all, and I found myself on a moving bus to Tamale at 10:20 am. The bus departure was a miracle in itself, as it was only 20 minutes late in leaving, which pretty much feels like early at this point.The ride was longer than I expected, and we pulled into Tamale around 4:30 pm. There were a couple of chilling images on the road. The first was a Grelyhound like bus turned over on its side off the road. There had obviously been a very bad accident at some recent point. Another image was a twisted transport truck, laying neither prone nor supine right in the middle of the highway. Our bus meandered over to the shoulder and around the recent relic of some terrible moment. When I saw the truck, I let out an audible “oh”. These are just two of the many twisted wrecks that I have seen littering the roads of Ghana. I let out a second audible “oh” during the bus ride. As I gazed out the window I noticed the twelve billionth young cute lamb along the road. This particular lamb decided to act like a wreckless dog.and run with the bus, and just as we were about to pass it, it disappeared from view under the front of the bus. This is where I gasped, causing my seatmate to turn and look at me like I was crazy, oblivious to my to my private drama. Clearly, I am now in a very different part of Ghana. The journey north has meant the evangelical south yielding to a more Muslim world. The landscape is more brown, though there is still lots of greenery. I am now painfully aware of the ticking clock. I have two things left on my list. I must get to Mole National Park, so as to pass on a hello to the elephants from a friend. Secondly, I must get back to Accra and make arrangements to get to the Omenako Primary School. At this point I am considering flying to Accra because it will take at least 12 gruelling hours to get there from here. The problem is the bank card. Will it work again, or will it be eaten again, causing me to waste more precious time rectifying that problem? If daddy can't get no more love from the ATM the options become more frugal, though not yet dire.So the plan is to go to Mole and Larabanga. Larabanga is home to the oldest mosque in West Africa and also a very amazing place by all accounts. After that a mad dash back to Accra, and a journey to Omenako. Let us pray that the ATM gods will smile upon me one more time.http://goyestoeverything.com