Akwabaa to Ghana (welcome)

I'm sure most of you have glanced at a National Geographic, well I feel as though I have stepped into the pages! It is truly unbelievable--I keep asking myself "How did I get here?"

Besides being boring, the flights went just fine. Actually had to stop in Senegal (another West African country) to get enough fuel so the plane could make a return trip--Ghana didn't have enough. Sat next to a guy from Sierra Leone who studies at Kansas U.

I stepped off the plane and the weather hit. Even though its the rainy season all this month, the morning was clear and sunny but really thick. The air had the same feeling as after you've snuggled with somebody you like on a summer day--even though its a little too hot and you kind of stick together you don't really mind because its comforting.

Took a cab to the hostel--definitely not in the center of the city. I was a little freaked out because the driver said "this is is" and it was this old shack the size of a two car garage "no this can't be it" I saw a pair of eyes peeping from between the slats. It turns out he and taken me to the back of the gated compound where there was a door I could walk in rather than being buzzed through the car gate.
Outside of this door there is a small stand run by Auntie Grace, where I bought some bagged water and fresh bread. That's how most of the stores are--stalls set up by the side of the road. It's beautiful; mom's work with their babies tied to their backs, they sit together and just chat, and most start up conversations with you as you walk past. As far as advertising goes, it's Evangelical all the way (Ghana is 60% Christian, 25% Muslim--more north) Tro-tros (vans that you can get to the city in for 40 pesawes=40 cents have pictures of Jesus on the bumper with signs like "God is." Other examples include, Best Service is with God Cellphone stand and my personal favorite" Not By My Strength Alone Beauty Salon.

Overall, people are really friendly, but you do have to bargain because they will give you the Obruni price (the white price). The first day I was here, I met up with a girl Joy from Oregon and we went around the city together. You can buy fresh fruit on almost any street, and I found a place where I could pick up school supplies if need be. We went to Fort Usher, a place right on the beach where they sent off slaves, but most recently housed some Sudanese refugees. We then had some dinner in a small restaurant along the coast. Food here is spicy--enough to make your lips a little swollen--, but overall delicious. Rice, chicken, yams,.......I ate a banana. Then Joy from Oregon and I walked around some markets--stands on the streets. The smell was so alive too. Food being cooked right in front of you, hot bodies, a little bit of sea breeze, urine, ripe fruit, open sewers (ditches that run on either side of the street, most I've seen are stone); when all together it doesn't smell bad, it smells bustling.

The second day I was here, a girl named Ashlee who's studying peaceful resolutions for her masters from New York and I took a walk around Dakuman road, the area outside the hostel--poor neighborhood, used to be a slum but now is not so much. School had gotten out and uniformed boys and girls with short cropped hair were making their way home. Ashlee knew one of the little boys and we were invited to his house. It was a bit of a maze, dodging goats talking to old ladies cooking over smokey fires with little babies running around. His house was as small as an average dorm room, but he did go to school, have a electricity, and his mother had a cellphone so they were fairly well off. He had a two week old sister (or relative) and his brother had cholera; a lot of other kids came in the house to watch us and the futbol game going on (Ghana v. Nigeria).

At night, I have been hanging out with other hostel people. Mostly American law students and British med students, one Dutch guy. I think I'm the youngest, but its pretty neat being able to talk to others about the world and they know what's going on. It rained for my first time yesterday--a huge downpour--more water pressure than most showers and the sky was mauve. Off roads are mostly unpaved and the sewers will overflow and mosquitos will breed in the stagnant water so it does get a little messy. The Brits, Ashlee and I are going to try to go to the beach today so that should be fun.

Things I love: sounding reggae when I talk, calling people Brudda, Auntie, Uncle, Sista, eating this frozen chocolate milk, everyone's friendliness in and out of the hostel, little boys who confess their love for me, goats everywhere, big thunderstorms, being able to walk around without being neurotic and chatting.

Funniest thing that has happened to me thus far: While on the way to the boys house, this older lady started calling Obruni, Obruni (white person) so we turned around, she shook our hand--they have an awesome handshake here!--and she would grab these little toddlers running around and hold them up to us. She was trying to scare them with our white skin, some of them were scared, others were curious (one started poking my freckles).

Twas the Night Before....

For the billionith time today, I have reassured people that I was not nervous or frightened or scared (mostly my parents who are). I was, in fact, antsy. I was counting down the hours until I boarded my first flight(currently 11.92). I've traveled before, I've flown alone. The first leg of the branch, a 4 hour drive to my grandparents house in Pittsburgh, had already taken place. A drive I've taken many times. Tomorrow, I will fly to New York, and then New York straight to Accra, the capital to my new home, Ghana. An ample layover reassures no rushing and a regular trans-atlantic flight. I will arrive at about 8 in the morning, the time difference is 4 hours ahead with a new friend in tow. I am meeting a girl from Georgia in New York and we will be exploring greater Accra together until we start volunteering on the 1st. She will be teaching in village, and I will be off to camp. I will be staying in my first hostel!!! and learning about the culture by the family who runs it.

Please join twitter (link below my profile) that way in case something should happen to me, I can send out a mass message and be able to get help if needed.

Things I know about Ghana: currently in the rainy season, average temperature 90 degrees F, little/no air conditioning, nice beaches on coast.

Things I know I will have some difficulty with: not being able to make plans via cell phone. All meeting up by my fellow volunteers has to be planned ahead of time. Sometimes....I'm not very flexible...

I know that my trip will not always be fun or adventurous; I will probably want to go back home at some point or another. But right now, I really need to get away. I need to escape from all the ease and wastefullness. I need a break from sitting around watching Sex and the City and running errands back and forth across town. The silver spoon of it all has begun to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

I found this story, the perspective it has is the same as why I'm going:

A rugged individual was walking in the woods in front of a fading sun.
Clomp, stomp, step.
"Who is this walking?" a young tree pondered aloud.
"I am me," the individual replied to the dusk.
The tree strained, but only saw a skeleton.
"What happened to you?" the tree asked quietly.
"I have been walking for a long time. There were plants with thorns that ripped my skin. There were plants that had broken petals that needed mending. There were small caves in which I could not fit, and too large of leas that I tried to fill. My body left me piece by piece."
"Oh," was the trees solemn reply. "Take some of my leaves to protect your soul."
"Don't worry tree. I will not lose my soul. You see, my being is in everyplace I have left my body, not in the flesh itself, but instead, in the idea."
As the individual was explaining, a small shower of green fell like tears and wrapped themselves around the remains of the body.
"I've learned that we are part of all of what we meet, but as a tree I know that roots are vital to life. Without stability, a sense of self cannot be established, and death will fill the void of the purposeless," said the tree.
Both acknowledged what had been gained and lost. The individual passed through the woods with the gift of the tree and a path in mind. The tree shivered tall; it could give and still be.
Above, a cloud moaned past noticing the nakedness in the canopy.
"Oh tree," was all it said, and as it went by some of the mist clung to the empty branches, protecting it from the night.