That's Africa

Your typical white American girl going to Africa to save cute black babies. That’s why most people assume I chose to spend my summer in Ghana. The narrow-minded inquires from anyone who heard my summer plans frustrated me for the six months prior to my trip. Now, I’m so in love with Ghana that the same comments can’t bother me. While you can’t deny the cuteness of the picture below from last week, my reasons for living on a new continent for two months are far less shallow.

My life experiences aren’t lacking, but ever since I can remember I’ve always wanted more. Mom always said I never have a problem leaving where I am for where I’m going. I have an insatiable desire to see the world and its people. Europe is the go-to college study abroad destination, so why would I ever pick that? The opportunity to study abroad and intern in Ghana grabbed my attention in a second. Africa is beautiful. I’ve loved every second I’ve lived in Ghana and I’m lucky to have four more weeks here.

Last Thursday we spent the morning at Anani Memorial International School in Nima, Ghana. The few hundred children privileged enough to attend school performed songs, dances, and poetry readings for us. The local children who could not afford tuition glued themselves to the windows and watched through the iron rods. Here is a video of the first poetry performance by a 7 year-old girl. Her poem is called “Africa, oh Africa,” and the words of pride and love for her African identity (although hard to hear in the video) shocked me coming from such a young girl.

Of course I miss my friends and family in the States and food that doesn’t make me violently ill. But, I already feel extremely comfortable on the African continent. Cold showers, huge power outages, mosquitos, and laundry in buckets are home to me now. Thankfully, home also includes the beautiful things about Ghana and its people.

We live and intern in Accra, but I spent the past weekend in Cape Coast, Ghana. It seems that every new experience here becomes my new favorite. Our three-hour drive to Cape Coast was interrupted when one of the front tires exploded. No one got hurt, but the bus was done. Most people took taxis to the hotel, but nine of us waited on the side of the highway for a van to arrive. We played Frisbee with a local boy named Robert for over an hour and that’s when I learned that I’ve loved the unplanned moments the most. There’s this thing called “Africa time” here. It means that time isn’t a factor for the Ghanaian people, things will happen when they happen. You always have time to stop and say hello even if it means being late to work. Therefore, urgency wasn’t a priority for the van picking us up on the side of the road. We started saying “That’s Africa,” when things go wrong and we have to go with the flow. This was one of those moments.

On Saturday we toured Elmina Castle, the oldest European structure in West Africa built by the Portuguese and later taken over by the Dutch. Fishing boats were visible right over the castle walls. It was intriguing to me that people went along their business and everyday responsibilities just feet outside of castle walls that house such unimaginable history of the Atlantic slave trade.

Using strong chants to boost their strength and morale (according to the castle tour guide), fishermen worked together through a complicated and slow process to pull their boat back on shore.

As soon as the tour was over and we had time to wander around (because our bus tire needed fixing again) I headed down the boats with Azia, Alexa, Gabby and Chris. One of the fishermen called “I love you” as we arrived and later signaled to come down to the front of the boat at the waterline. There, they where they were lifting the boat with their backs as the rest of the group pulled ropes. Much to their amusement, we jumped in to help. It was burning my legs in less than ten minutes and this group had been working on moving the boat for hours. Then, we switched duties and tried to pull the huge ropes, but that was horribly unsuccessful. Needless to say, I think we won the fishermen over. Azia even got a kiss on the cheek.

Back in the town, a young girl named Mary tried to teach me how to balance a basket on my head filled with bags of drinking water (girls and women frequently balance these baskets of goods on there heads and walk around town to sell them). Mary’s aunts and other elders decided to join in as I provided an entertaining balancing act. I didn’t quite pick it up as I hoped, but like the rest of my interactions with Ghanaians, my conversation with Mary didn’t disappoint. We were talking about my watch and its bright orange color, when she grabbed my hand and touched the skin on my forearm and said “I like your color.” I was completely taken aback because it was so candid and typical of a child.

Another powerful moment of the weekend occurred during the tour of Cape Coast Castle, built by the British specifically for the Atlantic Slave Trade. It was hard to stand in the pitch-black dungeon cells and walk through the “Door of No Return,” but it was as close to a first hand experience as possible into the history of humanity. At the end of the tour, our guide Matilda gave a speech about learning from the past saying, “Black and whites should live together in unity so as not to repeat such injustices.” Then she brought our attention to a plaque that the council of West African chiefs presented to Cape Coast Castle. It was a gift to admit their predecessors’ roles in the Atlantic slave trade through their capturing and selling their own African people. It reads:

The visits to Elmina Castle and Cape Coast Castle were tough. Azia put it best when she said to me, “If only the walls could speak.” With these visits included in the weekend of activities, the subject of race was on my mind a lot. Especially the fact that racism is far too prevalent in the United States.

I love Africa because it gives me a restored faith in humanity. In a short two weeks, I’ve experienced such a sense of community and more genuine appreciation for each other and strangers than I have ever seen in the United States. In the most unexpected way, walking through the slave castles lacked all presence of racism.

Living in a city of four million Ghanaians makes my white skin and blue eyes extremely visible. The visibility isn’t something I’m accustomed to, but it’s also not a bad thing. I’ve noticed something in the way Ghanaians look at me and other obrunis (Ghanaian term for a person from outside of Africa). They look, but they don’t stare. Children run after us in the streets yelling “Bruni! Bruni!” and just want to hold your hand and show off their English greetings repeating “How are you? How are you?”

Ghana is a shockingly peaceful country and I never question my safety (I told you so, Mom). Even if we were in the poorest of slums in Nima walking around at night, I would feel safer than I do anywhere in the United States. I think this makes a strong testament to Ghanaian character and African culture.

In addition to everything above, the past weekend alone was complete with a two-night stay at an amazing beach resort, 40-meter-high rainforest canopy walk, skinny dipping in the Gulf of Guinea, and petting a wild crocodile… We are back in Accra and started our internships on Monday. My internship with StratComm fell through so I am starting work at BrandEffect on Friday…That’s Africa for you.