By: Laura Gattis
Dear Accra,
Madaase. Thank you. Thank you for the way you enveloped me this summer, took me in and treated me as your own. Thank you for every smile, handshake-finger snap combo I couldn’t master, every mispronounced Twi word you took in stride.
When I first decided to move here for the summer, I didn’t truly understand the vibrance your city had to offer. My knowledge was limited, shaped by the western media’s inaccurate depictions of Africa as a country, not as a continent. Being here, in Accra, has shown me firsthand how damaging the western media’s coverage of your country is.
Here, there is intense levels of poverty, hunger, and lack of education for low-income families, but there is also incredible beauty. Poverty exists worldwide, and is not a problem endemic to Africa or Ghana alone. I spent my life falling into the trope of ‘Africa is a country’; when I signed up for the UO Media in Ghana trip, I still half-thought there would giraffes.
No giraffes, but the baboons, monkeys, goats, chickens, and dogs have provided a beautiful backdrop to the always bustling city traffic. Hawkers walk between cars in busy intersections, selling everything from water and snacks to fried meats and air fresheners. One particularly eventful Uber ride included my driver paying for a small amount of gas at an intersection, the car being filled up by a man while we continued to roll forward, my jaw agape as the hawker ran beside us until the tank was appropriately full.
The food, always hot, spicy, and flavorful, was coated with a thick layer of friendship and community from every business I frequented. Whether it was Adwoa, my bofrot lady, or Dr. Ted, who took me to get fufu with his friends after church, or even Yaa, the woman I bought water from on the hottest days, the food always came with a smile on someone’s face as we shared a moment of unity.
Dear Accra, thank you. Thank you for showing me how bad I am at Twi, but how fiercely in love with the local languages I am. The small strip of businesses and hawkers near Okoponglo junction became a regular part of my day. Once, I took Peyton and Sam with me to show them the shop I got waist beads from, and the groups of people waving and shouting my name left Peyton in shock. “It’s my little corner of Accra,” I told her, beaming with pride.
Whether it was the tro tros screeching past me at 9 AM, or the marriage proposals random men gave me, there was never a dull moment. At my internship, I felt immediately welcomed and loved by my coworkers and peers.
Dear Accra, thank you for introducing me to the University of Ghana’s Institute for Environment and Sanitation Studies. To the IESS team, thank you for taking in the random PhD student who specifically asked to work with your group. The C2DCR group included me from the first second I walked into a room, taking me to community meetings and showing me communities I would’ve never walked into otherwise.
I have a distinct memory of sitting in a room filled with the community engagement coordinators hired for a neighborhood, watching each person stand up and introduce themselves. When the conversation switched from English to the local language, the man sitting next to me helped translate it so I could take notes and learn.
As I sit here waiting for my Bolt Food to be delivered, I’m in awe of Janet, our seamstress, Doctor Michael Williams, our service provider, Emma, our cook, and every single Ghanaian who ever spoke a kind word to me. While I won’t miss bartering on the streets for a good deal, I’m thrilled that I paid the least amount in our group for a Black Stars soccer jersey.
Dear Accra, when Sam and I applied for multi-entry visas, I was hesitant about whether I’d ever come back. Now, after five weeks, I’m constantly asking people on the university campus to hire me when I graduate.
This won’t be goodbye, but rather a see you later.
Madaase pa,
Laura Gattis
