Day 92: Nova Africa south of Freetown – Bo

We leave the Freetown peninsula and drive to Bo, where we want to meet an uncle of our American friend.

The landscape is enchanting, an alternation of fields, hills, palm groves and dense forest. The further we move away from the coast, the looser the settlement becomes – although at times there are hardly any roads leading off to the right or left. The places appear tidy and structured. The houses are mostly brick and almost all have a shady little veranda.

At the entrance to Bo the umpteenth police checkpoint. We have a different strategy: only open the window a third, and only lower it a little further when we stop. Polite distance, not as friendly as before. We don't want to talk too much and when we're asked something, we're both happy to answer, which creates confusion.

Doesn't help here. The immigration officer will see the passports. Now we do what Jennifer recommended to us, to say whoever we want to visit and this way showing we are therefore socially connected. “We have an appointment at Gila’s Hospital” almost stops the officer and we are immediately waved on.

In the evening we find out that the masterminds of the riots on November 26th are still being searched for. Of course our car would offer enough space for transportation and so the police sometimes want to check it.

By the way: The curfew has been lifted, as we recently found out. From 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. This severely restricted people's lives here because, for example, they often have to walk to work a long way.

We stay in a guest room of the hospital. An intact mosquito net over the bed, a clean sheet, an evening shower after we're completely sweaty again. You can hardly drink enough. March is supposed to be the worst month in this part of the tropics, we should be through it :-)

We get a late lunch or early dinner with plantain puree (plantains plus yam and cassava / called fufu) and fried fish in a kind of bean soup. Yummy. The puree is salty and sweet and slightly sour at the same time.

Another couple is visiting and we learn a little about planning a traditional funeral - a burden for the one, who has to arrange it.

And we hear the story of a traditional healing of an infected hernia. The plan was to amputate in the clinic, but the tribal healer took a different approach. A chicken also has its leg broken, both “patients” are treated and things end well. The core is probably most likely the redirection of the trauma from oneself to something or someone else so that the body can develop it's self-healing impulses.