At some point during our travels we as a group started to realize how diverse the people of Ghana are. The hospitality in particular has been overwhelming to points where I’ve felt unworthy of the affection I’ve received from complete strangers.

The children have been some of the most endearing individuals on this trip. It doesn’t matter what age, financial or social status they hold. Either way, they’ve greeted all of us with incomparable enthusiasm and curiosity.

There have been countless interactions with young ones that have filled us with such warmth. On Thursday we visited a local school in Nima (Anani Memorial International School) where students of ages ranging roughly 4-17 put on dance, choir and fashion show performances on for us. All of them were so eager to flash their talent and dance along with us that morning. We even had a chance to participate in some of their games afterwards in which I lost at dancing and arm wrestling because of the number of challenges I received. It was one of the most humbling experiences I’ve ever experienced.

We’ve talked with and greeted plenty of children on the streets of Nima, Accra, and many cities up and down the coast of Ghana. Many are quick to wave hello and flash enormous grins as we pass by whether on foot or by bus. Many of the kids have a certain song that they sing when they see us. It goes along the lines of, “Obruni, how are you? I am fine. Thank you.” If I haven’t mentioned it already, “obruni” means “foreigner” in Ghanaian terms, but it never comes off as a degree of separation. Rather it serves as a greeting filled with curiosity and excitement. This song has been sung repeatedly on our travels and has turned into a tune of welcoming from the nation’s youth.

The one interaction that sticks out the most so far was one we experienced on Friday afternoon. Our bus broke down about an hour away from the beach resort we were staying at. Some of the group members were able to take taxis immediately and move on while the rest of the pack waited on a hotel minivan. While we waited for the minivan to appear, we decided to toss Spencer’s Frisbee around to kill time. Before we could get a hand full of throws in, a child from a nearby village approached and became fascinated with our game. He was promptly tutored by Spencer on how to toss the Frisbee and proceeded to toss it across the two-lane highway with us for over an hour.

While the game was intended to serve as a time killer, it became something much bigger than your average Frisbee toss around. It became a connection with this shy, but curious boy whom had most likely never played this game, let alone with a group of foreigners on the highway in the middle of the day. The boy, whose name is Robert, seemed overjoyed to be playing with us in this notable moment of fusion between two worlds. The event served as a microcosm of what our communication has been with the Ghanaians so far: engaging, welcoming, rare, and emotional.