So close

The bus-ride to Tamale was internet cafe slow, but of course we had to be at the station at 5 so we could get in on the egg sandwiches before our 5 hour 1 cancellation wait. The cancellation was the air-conditioned bus we ordered, so we sat instead 5 to a row and I lost my battle with sleep after a near all-nighter writing a virtual thesis on Ghanaian economics that was chopped in three with the lion's share landing on the dusty floor. The other passengers were impressed with oboruni's sleeping skill as the over-sized shockless van bounced over 300 kilometres of potholed dirt road roads and occasional patches of ashphalt, my head snapping back like elastic all the way. As predicted, we arrived at 10 pm. Theresa and her husband George (who last year was named Ghana's second best teacher, for which honour he received a new car which was then rear-ended by a bus and joined most of my economics article in the abyss) had been waiting for us about an hour. They were gracious and drove us straight to the Catholic Guest House with its broken air-conditioner, where we free fell into sleep amidst fleeting thoughts of how close we come to greatness.