By: Ariane Kunze
As I emerged from the airplane into the humid air of Accra, I found it hard to breathe. When I held up my camera to take a picture of the giant “Akwaaba” sign, the lens fogged up. This was the first of many unusual surprises I would encounter during my time in Ghana. Adrenaline rushing through my body, I entered Accra with four other journalism students from the University of Oregon about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.
I am among 14 journalism students from the University of Oregon who will be studying and interning at various publications and agencies in Accra for 6-weeks. My first week in Accra has been filled with curiosity, discovery and warm Ghanaian hospitality. I have been mesmerized by the vibrant colors and patterns in open markets and greeted non-stop as an “obroni.” I have grown used to this new name for myself and am slowly adjusting to the cultural differences.
I was nervous at first about navigating around the city, eating new foods and communicating with the locals, but I am coming to find that there is nothing to be nervous about. Red-red, jollof rice and fresh mangoes have become my favorite local foods and exploring craft markets, my favorite activity. I was very surprised by the busyness of the city and the chaos of people around the markets. This is a difference I’m sure I will grow used to in time.
Not only do I feel like a tourist in Ghana with my camera constantly in hand, but I have become very aware of my pale skin. Our group went to a football game where thousands of people congregated around the field. The moment we stepped off the bus, all heads turned our way. With all eyes glued to me, I have never felt so conscious of my skin color. Being white in Ghana has made me aware for the first time in my life what being a minority feels like.
This past weekend, we visited the slave castles along the Cape Coast. In my elementary education in Oregon, I was taught about how slaves were shipped from Africa to various locations, such as the United States, to provide labor. We were shown textbook pictures of the ships, but never learned about the slave castles along the Cape Coast in Ghana. While visiting Elmina Castle, I was overcome with grief for all those who suffered and lost their lives in atrocious ways. It humbled me to stand in the dark dungeons where the slaves were kept and led me to reflect upon the harsh realities of mankind.
Since I have been in Ghana, I have come to many realizations about the materialism in which I live in Oregon. After having observed many Ghanaians and their ways of living, I have come to find that they live happily on the bare necessities. Not having a warm shower, my own transportation and consistently paved roads in Ghana, has led me to realize what is truly necessary for survival. These things are not crucial for survival, but merely nice accommodations in my already easy life. I am anxious to brave the tro-tros and navigate Accra on my own, but know that I can rely on the help of locals to guide me home. Although I may not always be able to rely on the luxuries at home in Oregon, I always know that I can count on Ghanaians to lend me a helping hand, and for that, meda asse (thank you).
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