Within a week of landing in Ghana, I found myself at a crossroads after getting robbed on the beach, along with two teammates. Fortunately, we didn’t have much of value!

On one path, I could play it safe for the rest of the summer, mindlessly clocking in and out of work while refusing to stray from the relative safety of our guided tours. On the other path, I could throw caution to the wind and take advantage of everything the West African gem had to offer – both good and bad – because this type of thing could, and does, happen everywhere and anywhere. Although it would have been understandable to pursue the conservative option, I chose the latter. Thankfully I did because the summer of 2008 turned out to be the best of my life.

My journey wasn’t a slow trek, either. The excitement hit the moment I arrived at the office. Before

even telling me his name, my new supervisor handed me the previous day’s paper and told me that I

needed to scan the story about yesterday’s bank protest as he nudged me into the back seat of a sedan with Kingdom Sosu, a senior reporter.

My mind was spinning as I tore through the pages of the newspaper, digging for the narrative about the

unknown financial institution in flux. I hadn’t even dug up the headline when Hammer, our driver, screeched to a halt in front of a big bank in the central business district where police armed with machine guns paced uneasily amongst the hundreds of bankers in suits and dresses standing outside the headquarters. The bankers, in some sort of solidarity, wore ribbons on their lapels similar to those we see during Breast Cancer Awareness month here in the U.S.

I tucked myself behind Kingdom as he flashed his press credentials to an armed guard and floated past the door frame as if he were the CEO of the bank. Within moments, he was whispering to someone who looked like an authority figure, and before I could even hit the restroom, we were out the door. I don’t think a story even dropped in our paper. Although, I was thrown into the deep end with barely any notice, I picked up the nuances quickly.

Before the internship started, I had never before written for a newspaper. Not even a school one. I had

basically pieced together a few photo captions for my high school senior yearbook and penned a handful of rudimentary stories for class. Despite that fact, I covered a wide range of stories I never would have

had the opportunity to tackle at home. I reported about former secretary-general of the United Nations

Kofi Annan accepting his position as the new Chancellor of the University of Ghana, the Ghana Maritime Authority’s collaboration with the International Maritime Organization to combat coastal pollution, and a meeting at Ghanaian Parliament (with glorious air conditioning!) for the country’s leading private newspaper, The Chronicle.

Outside of work, I was blessed to live with 12 other UO SOJC students, several of whom became my best friends. Here are some highlights: at Mole National Park in the northern part of the country, I witnessed two elephants battling over turf; I tutored a couple of neighborhood kids about computer literacy (after they kicked my butt on the soccer field); I semi-conquered my fear of heights at Kakum National Park’s canopy walk; and I played Hangman with some locals under a mango tree after our bus broke down. These are just a few immediate memories. I could easily write a book about my 2008 summer in Ghana, and I just might do that one day. The experiences continue to resonate.

All that to say, I would 100% participate in the program again if I ever had the opportunity.