GHANA- DAY ONE

Back on the ship.

 Leaving this port has been an entirely different experience from the last two.

            On the ship we have an expression called "Jumping the ship". There are lots of stories of past students here on SAS in past voyages having such influential experiences in certain countries of port that they "jump the ship"—meaning they don't go back on the ship and just stay in that country. What happens after that, I don't know, maybe they stay for a few months and volunteer, maybe they stay for good. When I heard these stories I laughed to myself and thought whoaaaa no way! But, while I was in Ghana, the thought of jumping the ship seriously went through my mind. I gotta tell you, leaving this country was a very hard experience. The past two ports I was bummed to have to leave but come departure time I found myself eating dinner with friends laughing, sharing stories, and then eventually talking about the next destination. This time, I found myself sitting on the top deck all alone. I watched in awe as the land that I grew to love over the past week got further and further away. So many thoughts went through my mind, and I felt a deep sadness and desire to return.

            On Monday morning I was awoken at 5:30 am to bangs on my door and yells in the hallway. My RD (resident director—we call them RA's at school), Chris made it his mission to be sure that everyone in our hall got a wake up call to go see the sunrise and the ship approach Ghana. I jumped out of bed ready and excited, brushed my teeth, didn't even change, and ran outside. I got upstairs to the observation deck on the top floor in the front of the ship. I looked out and I saw lots of ships and boats around me…after being in the Atlantic for 9 days and not seeing anything else, this was pretty exciting. Then, in the distance I saw it…Africa! I just pictured us on a map and could not believe that I was actually going to be in this land that we hear so much about in just a few short hours. It was a foggy morning—we later learned that this is because it is currently Ghana's dry season. This port looked extremely different from Brazil and Dominica. Dominica was filled with beautiful nature, mountains, and brightly colored homes and buildings. Manaus, in Brazil was a large city with high-rises surrounded by green rainforest on all sides. This port we didn't see brightly colored homes, we didn't see intense green, we didn't see high-rises and large buildings. Instead we saw simply land and a port where people stood outside, ready to pull us in. You may think this was anti-climactic…sure in a way it was, but it really was the introduction to me of what this country is like. There is little commercialism and things like expensive paved roads and state of the art buildings…they just don't exist here, it's a totally and completely different way of life.            

            At home, our lives revolve around time. Time determines when we wake up, and when we go to class or work, a bell, or alarm, or whistle means so much…it's odd to think, but really we revolve around time. In Africa, the concept of time is a relatively new thing. This is because, before the development of modern civilization, most peoples attitudes towards time didn't really exist…sure they woke up when the sun came up and went to sleep when it went down, but there was no such thing as a 5:45 pm deadline. I tell you this because we were quickly introduced to "Africa time" as the locals called it. The Ghanaians are much more relaxed about time, and tend to be late…a lot. We were told to keep this in mind and try to let go of our western obsession with time. We got to the port in the last two countries, immigrations cleared us within the hour and we were off the ship by 8 or 9 am. This time, we didn't get cleared until 10:30 am. Obviously, knowing his country, Shariff (one of our locals who traveled with us across the Atlantic) anticipated this, so he put on one final show to us in the Union. Then we heard the announcement "The ship has been cleared and you are now free to go to the gangway and exit the ship!"

            I ran to my room, grabbed my bag, met some friends in Tymitz square and we made our way to the gangway. I looked outside, knowing that in just a few more steps I would be stepping onto West-African soil. It was a very anticipated first step in comparison to other countries I've visited. The first day was my day to just hang and explore so I got onto a shuttle and made my way to the city of Accra. Accra is the largest city in Ghana, and therefore the most developed. As we drove in the shuttle I looked out and saw lots of brown dirt, and women walking with literally anything and everything on their heads. Seriously, the women are so awesome, they walk around with babies on their backs and heavy bowls of bananas, buckets of water…etc balanced on their heads like it's no big deal. We got off the shuttle in Accra and I felt something I have never felt before. I know what it's like to be a foreigner; I've been to Europe, South America, and Israel. But the truth is, in all of those places, while I probably looked like a traveler due to my sneakers, backpack and camera, I didn't stick out like a "sore thumb". Just before leaving for SAS, I led a birthright group through Israel. Israel is a place that I entered as a foreigner and exited feeling like a local. In my birthright trip I really felt it, I was speaking the language, and looking like a local. I kind of got used to this feeling of being a technically being a foreigner but not really feeling it. Here, I got off this shuttle and knew that no matter what I did, I could never look like a local. This wasn't due to my lack of knowledge, inability to speak the language, or sneakers, backpack and camera (okay well those things contributed)…it was due to the color of my skin. It was the most humbling and surreal experience I have ever felt. 

            Feeling very hungry for our first Ghanaian meal, we made our way first to the atm to get some cedis (the local currency here) then to a restaurant. I ordered fried plantain and chicken. Wow was it delicious. I started feeling antsy during lunch though….I was eager to get out, away from people like me and towards those whose culture I've never experienced. I quickly realized that a group of 6 for lunch was nice, but if I really wanted to "get out there" we'd have to split up. So, myself and two other friends left the group with plans to meet up later. We made our way to M'kalah market. All we knew was that this was a market with lots of food and things to buy. What we didn't realize was that it was a very, very local market. We walked into a building and through the narrow pathway of the market. I felt every head turn and watch me as I walked past. My first paper I wrote in my class called Travel writing was about the "pains and pleasures" of travel. I made the point that the pleasures are obvious. The pains are real, true experiences that will be remembered and cherished. Those experiences are just disguised as temporary pains. I really put this theory in my paper to the test with some of my experiences in this country. Here is one: As we walked through the market, my friend, Eshley, who loves photography, took our her camera…what we didn't know was that in Accra, the locals completely disapprove of cameras and do not want pictures of them to be taken. As she took out her camera people started yelling at us. Then, it was like dominoes, stand after stand heard the yelling and joined in. At first I tried to apologize and explain that we didn't know and didn't mean to offend them…but I quickly realized that that attempt was futile in their angry states, it was better to just leave. We walked out and felt the domino effect all the way until the main street. I asked my friend to please put her camera away explaining that we need to try and be respectful of their culture. She was bummed but agreed quickly and put it away. We made our way back into another area of the market. I saw a woman selling a very interesting looking food. So, I walked up to her and asked what it was. The only response I got was "I don't want any trouble, please leave". Obviously I didn't understand but came to my own conclusion that this woman must have had a bad interaction with a white person once and now that is her perception and association with white people. I always say that when you walk around in a foreign country you're not just representing yourself, you're basically a walking billboard with your race, ethnicity and home country. The impression you make on a local will not just resonate with them as an impression of you, but an impression of all those things you represent. Clearly this woman did not have a good opinion of white people for some reason or another, so I just smiled and walked away.

             Based on what I have shared so far, you may be thinking whoa what is wrong with the people in this country. This is where I try to implement what I was talking about with the pains and pleasures. I also go back to my anthropology class I took where we discussed trying to look at another culture not as an outside. This is obviously not entirely realistic, but it means that when something happens that is weird or unacceptable to you, try to remember that it is normal for them.

             We made our way out of the market, feeling quite overwhelmed and unsure of what our next action should be. We wandered around and came across a school that was letting out at the moment. We saw tons of young boys and girls in matching uniforms. They approached us and we exchanged names and greetings. The kids were all so happy to meet us. They eagerly grabbed out cameras and snapped shot after shot. They then would all crowd around and stare in awe at the pictures of themselves. We had heard about an artists market earlier and wished to find it. We asked one of the older girls at the school if she knew where she was. She told us that she would take us there on her way home. So, we followed Eva and her little brothers with no clue where we were going. We figured it would be a quick walk and we would be there in a few moments. Then, we started walking through run-down apartment complexes and very local areas. Those hairs on the back of my neck that my dad always talks about started to raise a bit and I asked Eva where we were going. She assured me that we were fine and she knew where we were going, she had a way about her that made me feel very comfortable and I knew I was fine. Then, a minute later, we were there! I felt a little ignorant as I saw other SASers at the market and breathed a sigh of relief. Then, Eva and her brothers hugged us good-bye and went home.

             My experiences in this artist market were very mixed. At times I felt like a walking dollar sign and nothing else to these people. I longed for interactions and conversations with these people and regretted the fact that to them I would only ever amount to a source of income and nothing else. But, this wasn't the case for everyone. We quickly made our way to the edge of the market. I saw a group of kids and without thinking I ran up to them. I was so happy to see all of the kids, but also so saddened. In my physiology and nutrition classes at school I have learned many times of a condition called Kwashiorkor. This is a condition that occurs when children are malnourished and have a protein deficiency. A major symptom of this condition is edema, or swelling, particularly in the belly. A little girl outside of the market ran up to me with a bulging belly my heart dropped. The concept of this malnourishment was no longer just a word and picture on a slide in my nicely air conditioned lecture hall that I wrote about on my mac computer…it was right in front of me. We played with the kids for a while, then a girl with lots of bananas being carried on her head approached us. Her name was Elizabeth. I asked Elizabeth if it was hard for her to carry all those bananas, she replied no. I asked if it was heavy and she said I should try it on. I laughed but realized she was serious so I took my hair out of it's pony-tail and got ready. She placed the contraption with tons and tons of bananas on my head and I smiled in pain. This thing was SO heavy. It was hard enough for me to keep it on my head without my neck breaking, so there was no way I was going to try and balance it. I kept it there for a bit with my hands gripping the sides of the plate so tightly.

            After giving it back to her I asked her how much a banana was, she replied 4 for 2 cedis. Two cedis is only a little over a dollar, so I bought 16 bananas. Then I walked around and gave out pieces of the bananas to the kids. Elizabeth laughed as they all nearly attacked me. I looked down and all I saw was tiny little hands all around staring up at me with excited looks in their eyes. I thought about what it takes for an American kid where I'm from to get that look in their eyes…maybe a new playstation, computer, videogame, or toy. For these kids, it was a piece or two of banana. I happily handed out the bananas, looking at the kids with Kwashiorkor thinking that for them, this wasn't just a snack. Another woman made her way over to me, Gladys. Gladys actually introduced herself as "Sister Gladys", explaining that she was a nun. She told me that all of the kids I had been playing with and handing out bananas to for the last hour were orphans, and that she tries to do what she can to take care of them. She then looked at me in the eyes, held my hand, and thanked me for playing with them and giving them treats. She told me that it really brings them happiness and she is very grateful. For a moment I felt such satisfaction with myself as I smiled and enjoyed the satisfaction of "helping". In that same second I said you're welcome I felt complete dissatisfaction. For me it was a few bucks, but for them it was such a big deal. I felt such a strong desire and responsibility to do more. I looked at these kids and saw no difference between them and the same aged kids I teach at home, except for the complete chance of being born into one home versus another. I knew that I had come and helped for a moment, but in another hour or so, I would be leaving them and returning to my life- a life very different from theirs. It was such a conflicting experience. I suddenly like a you're welcome was completely inadequate.

            I stuck around and played with the kids for another hour or so. Then, when it was time to leave, I gave Gladys a hug. She asked me if I could come back the following day. I wished I could return, but had planned trips for the rest of the week that wouldn't permit me to return. I told her I would try and she smiled and said see you soon.

             We made our way out of the market. We had planned to get into a cab and head back to where the shuttle picks us up, but this ended up taking another hour. We ran into so many friendly locals in the front of the market. They were all so eager to talk to us, and I was even more eager to talk to them. The people here just wanted to be treated with respect, a large sign of this is a hello and a hand-shake. It's funny because I say handshake, but that word in American English is not even representative of what it is in Ghana. In Ghana, the handshake involves several maneuvers and then usually the hands linger for a moment or two before splitting. Just the hand-shake is representative of how personable the people here are. I talked with person after person, discussing things like their culture, mine, religion. There is one thing that is common between ALL Ghanaians…they are all SOOO proud of their culture. When we look at Africa, we usually think about the inequality, lack of development, and poverty…the locals here have this amazing ability to look past all of that, and see just the beauty in their land…and there is a lot of beauty in it.

            Finally after a while we got into a cab and arrived at the area where the shuttle would be picking us up. We had another 2 hours before the shuttle would arrive so we grabbed some dinner. After dinner, we stumbled on an internet café. Having not used the internet, just email, for a month now it was pretty exciting. For less than 1 cedi I was able to get some internet time. I did the facebook thing…it's weird not going on facebook for a while and then getting back on. After going through all of my notifications and messages I thought to myself, how is it that I used to spend so much time on this thing, I have nothing left to do now! So I got on skype and got to hear my parents and brothers voices for the first time in a looong time. It's funny how much comfort and emotions can be raised from just hearing a voice. It was so nice to hear them and share my experiences without having to wait a day for a response via email. Then, as we exited the café I saw two white guys in shirts and ties. I approached them and read their name tags…they were missionaries and Latter Day Saints!!!! I felt such an instant comfort as I thought about my awesome family from Idaho that I miss so much!! (THAT'S YOU CURTIS FAMILY IF YOU'RE READING THIS!) I talked to the missionaries for a while. It's funny, one of them has been in Ghana for already 19 months and he really started to sound like a local…he even shook my hand like one! They told me that they were very surprised to go to Ghana, but they have really developed a love an understanding for the culture. They also told me something that I would grow to learn on my own over the next few days…that the Ghanaian people are VERY spiritual, making the missionaries jobs easier. I enjoyed talking to them so much and wished them the best of luck as we said our good-byes.

The shuttle arrived and we made our way back to Tema (the smaller town where our ship was docked). After meeting up with some more SASers at the shuttle, we decided to see what kind of night-life Tema has to offer. We walked around and saw a small little bar that was outside with a few tables and all Ghanaians inside. I looked at a friend and we knew we were thinking the same thing and walked towards the bar. We got a few drinks and spent most of the time standing and talking with locals. The people were very nice, though I have to tell you, Ghanaian men are very straight forward. Surprise Mom and Dad, I got married in Ghana!!! Just kidding…but the option was seriously there, I got more than one proposal that evening from men explaining that they want to marry a white girl.

            As it got late we decided to call it a night and headed back to our safe haven in the form of a ship for the night. The day was filled with completely conflicting and mixed emotions and I had a hard time falling asleep that night as thoughts raced through my mind. Words can't even begin to describe the intense feelings associated with seeing a place that you've learned so much about and seen so many pictures of. You find that those pictures and videos are useless once you've seen it with your own eyes. We are told things, and shown things, and sometimes it's the closest we can get. But if you get that ability to actually go out and meet the people in those pictures, what you learn is more valuable than any book, class, or documentary.

 

            If you're still reading by now you know that clearly this was just any other country for me. I can't believe I have written this much for just Day One! I'll hopefully get to days 2, 3, 4, and 5 soon!

 

Steph