Why I Am Glad I Lived Every Moment to the Fullest

Days before I left for West Africa, I wrote out a list of goals for my time abroad. My aunt knows transitions well and taught me a few years back to always defeat nerves by concentrating on positive aspects any change will bring. Of course, I defined my goals loosely as I knew it wasn’t a good idea to set expectations for my life in a completely different country. I also know that I didn’t exactly adhere to them 100%. (I had way too much fun texting my loved ones pictures of almost everything, from my mountain of jollof rice to baby animals!) However, I also think my intentions, whether typed on that paper or not, were clear. I wanted to take advantage of every moment I had in West Africa, and I'm more thankful than ever that I did.

            Out of the many lessons the past five weeks have taught me, the central reminder is that I am not in control. That reality that snapped me in half at 1:30am during my weekend trip to the mountainous Volta region of Ghana with my teammates. As I turned airplane mode off and my whatsapp messages trickled in, I could tell it wasn’t going to be good news. “They’ll find out about it in the morning,” one message read. Before I even confirmed what “it” was, I already had too good of a guess. My study abroad program had ended early due to increasing concerns regarding the Coronavirus and travel bans, and I had to go back to the United States months earlier than intended. Months of preparation and excitement had been derailed by a single whatsapp screenshot. As I did many days and nights on campus, I comforted myself outdoors in the cool (well 85 degrees) African air. Some of my closest friends stayed with me late into their American night. We had celebrated every milestone along this journey and chuckled at every cultural adjustment fail together despite the miles. Now, they were helping me process through one of the most terrible combinations of shock, disappointment, anger, sadness, and confusion I had ever experienced. 

            Breakfast was a somber affair a few hours later. My teammates and I wanted to make the most of our final moments together, but no one really knew what to say. Some had already been called back by their universities a few days before and were finalizing flight details. Others, like me, were trying to deny the ever present reality, just hoping for another few weeks in this beautiful country. Our buddies were more like brothers and sisters at this point and worked hard to cheer us up. However, after a quiet lunch, our program advisors agreed to take us back to campus earlier than our intended departure time. Who could enjoy a nice pool on the mountainside when we knew we had to once again pack our life up and say goodbye? 

Our last moments together as a team

              It wasn't the goodbye itself that hurt so much, but in the way it was (or was not) said. Of course it came way too fast. I was only beginning to adapt to my life in Ghana. When I arrived, I felt like a toddler. I couldn’t cross the street by myself, I couldn’t get around town on my own, and I didn’t know how to order food at the markets or eat it without silverware. Some people talk about study abroad like it’s a relaxing vacation, but it took nearly two months of asking questions, observing locals, and failing to feel like I could really navigate life in sub-Saharan Africa. That is okay with me! I would relive every moment if it were possible. I just wish I could’ve had more time to see myself grow and learn.

            As this pandemic entered my city of Accra so suddenly, my last moments abroad also were not ideal. The difference between my last political science class the Monday before and the Monday when I was sorting out flight details was enormous. My tutee and her siblings were wearing masks when I said our sudden goodbye, people started walking the other way when they saw my skin color, and I think one local even told me to go back to the United States. I deemed it wise not to take a trotro just days before an international flight, so talk of the Coronavirus was the basis of my conversations with the taxi drivers. Perhaps my biggest regret is that I never got to say goodbye to most of my Ghanaian connections because the university ordered them to go home with little warning. My family often teases me about how I always need my goodnight hug, so not saying goodbye to a person who lives on the other side of the world was a tough pill to swallow. Jet-lagged Whatsapp messages after 30 hours of travel just don’t do justice to say thank you to those who taught me all I know about Ghana!

Not how we imagined saying goodbye,

but we have quite the story to tell!

              Despite the chaos of my final moments, I am at peace with how I lived every day of this crazy adventure. My last weekend abroad holds perhaps my most cherished memories. It began with one of my favorite cultural aspects – new food. After crossing the bridge that separates the Volta region from the Eastern region, the bus pulled over to roadside markets and we bought “aboloo”. It is cornbread topped with small, dried fish that is served on a banana leaf. Though I didn't have enough time to adapt to the idea of eating banku or jollof rice for breakfast, I ate aboloo with relative ease!

            My second adventure in the Volta region was a throwback to my very first night in Ghana. While I was trying to stomach all my indomie, Rex entertained me with a video of a monkey sitting on his shoulder and eating a banana. He promised I’d get to do that too, and, sure enough, my time had come as we entered the forest in the town of Tafi. Branches rustled and monkeys immediately appeared in every direction as our tour guide did the monkey call. Seconds later, I was handed a banana and told to hold it up high at a 90 degree angle. I tried to predict which monkey would jump on me, and before I knew it, one was sitting on my arm and peeling the fruit. “This is so cool! My phone is out of battery. Get pictures!” I begged of my teammates, who were already busy capturing the moment. That slow motion video is especially of great solace during these days of quarantine! 

             As if feeding monkeys wasn’t enough excitement for one weekend, less than 24 hours later I stood atop the highest mountain in West Africa. It wasn’t the longest hike in the world, but it contains some of the most intense 52 minutes of my life! I am sure that I set a sweat record as the heat index continued to soar over the normal feel of 100 degrees the higher I climbed. At many points, I was on all fours just grabbing at clumps of dirt and rocks to pull myself up the never-ending steepness. I met many natives along the way too, some of who were scurrying down the mountain in bare feet. “Don’t give up! You can do it!”, they encouraged as we tried to step out of each other’s way without falling down the mountain. Eventually, after losing sight of the trail for about three minutes, I heard the familiar voices of my Ghanaian brothers. Cheering with me, they snapped a picture as I planted my feet atop Mount Afadjato with what felt like all the pride in the world. 

I love Africa's natural beauty!

A trail marker that reads "Don't give up, quitters never win, you're 

664m to the summit."

We made it! (Vera and me at the top of Mount Afadjato)

           Standing on top of Mount Afadjato was not only fulfilling for me because it had pushed me to my physical limit, but also because it was a symbolic accomplishment of my entire experience in Ghana. I always referred to my countless preparations for my time abroad and on-site adjustments as a mountain I was climbing. As I stood in awe of the natural beauty that surrounded me, Vera also informed me that I was looking at Togo. It was my golden birthday wish to spend a few days in Ghana’s neighboring country. I wanted to see how different the two countries were while speaking a language other than English fluently (French). Unfortunately, I won’t get to do that this time around, but I am grateful for a taste of that wish. 

My frantic, early return to the United States is not how I pictured saying goodbye to my beloved new home of Ghana, West Africa. However, I know that my short time there gifted me with stories and opportunities that I would not have gotten anywhere else in the world. Those fleeting moments are memories I will cling onto for years to come, especially until I feel the fierce heat of that equatorial sun again in the center of the world again (because I am confident I will!). 

“Find life experiences and swallow them whole. Travel. Meet many people. Go down some dead ends and explore dark alleys. Try everything. Exhaust yourself in the glorious pursuit of life.” 

                                               - Lawrence K. Fish

                                                  

The Different Sides of Ghana

                As a new month begins in beautiful southern Ghana, I am rejoicing in the preview of the wet season. The rain comes with little or no warning. Sheets of water are suddenly unleashed from the sky and send people running for cover. An hour later, puddles and a mud festival (from the once dry dust) are all that’s left to testify that the rain actually came. I got caught in the midst of it with a friend on Friday, so we bought roasted plantains at a roadside market before boarding our trotro. That’s how Ghanaians deal with the chills of the wet season (75 – 82 degrees Fahrenheit)!


               Unfortunately, the days following the rain have brought the most intense heat I’ve ever experienced. I usually don’t check the weather because the only options in this environment are “hot” or “very hot”, but I’ve been checking for curiosity’s sake. The heat index has been between 102 and 108 degrees Fahrenheit this entire week. (The humidity adds 10-15 degrees of “real feel” as the actual heat itself has not exceeded 95 degrees.) All of Saturday, I felt like I was standing next to my grandma while she was opening the oven to take dinner out. Every hot breeze covered me with even more sweat and dust. There is little relief from the heat here as cold water turns warm within minutes, the vendors’ ice cream is soup before it even lands in your hands, and the only access to air conditioning is through a library where old books are being preserved. It is safe to say that absolutely nothing will faze me once I return to the States!

                I definitely had quite the cross-cultural experience when I attended a charismatic church for the first time here almost two weeks ago. I watched in fascination as people danced up and down the aisles and tried to follow along with the music as the languages randomly switched in between Twi and English.  At the end of the service, all the newcomers had to go up front and introduce themselves. I tried to avoid this part, but the person next to me linked his arm to mine and escorted me as everyone cheered. I was handed the microphone and told to say what my name was, where I was from, who brought me, and my relationship status. That last one shocked me, but what doesn’t these days. 

              Unlike France, and I'd venture to even say the United States since I'm comparing it to Ghana, Christianity is not just kept inside the walls of Sunday church. Almost every Ghanaian I’ve met so far has asked, “Are you a Christian?” and/or "What denomination/church are you affiliated with?"  Food stands at the markets advertise "God's timing is right!" and "Jesus loves you!" through stickers or permanent writing in both Twi and English. Often, on campus or at the trotro station, preachers stroll about while giving a sermon over the microphone for all to hear. It's common to hear preachers stressing the importance of service here, and I must say Ghanaians are some of the most generous, welcoming people I've met. I would have been perfectly content only attending church that one day with my classmate. However, she extended the invitation to join her for jollof (jollof rice) and then welcomed me to Bible Study along with her friends. 

             This evening is also a perfect demonstration that some of the most memorable cultural experiences occur in day-to-day life. While at the market in search of an ice cream cone (although I came back with yogurt "soup"), my American friend and I ran into our buddy Rex. Since he was about to get dinner too, it seemed like the perfect time to invite our brother over for "pasta night". I will never forget the look on his face as he took his first few bites of American food. He was full of noteworthy quotes, but my favorite was "The way I feel right now - is this how you've been feeling at every meal since you arrived in Ghana? I now realize that empathy is very different than sympathy." Forgetting that Rex was basically in my shoes now, I gave him the biggest serving ever. (Hey, when you get a moment to give back to those who have taught you survival skills in this crazy new world, you have to take advantage of it!) I saw my own reactions to Ghanaian food in his face and told him I would eat all that he didn't want. He excitedly dumped all of his pasta in my dish save six or seven forkfuls, which he slowly yet steadily finished. I appreciate his efforts! He explained that even though he's been involved with international students for a while now, he had never tasted an average American meal. He was a good sport though and some of his final words before we bid farewell for the night in Twi were, "Hey, we need to take a picture the next time I eat pasta!"

             My favorite class at the university is without a doubt Twi. I partnered with the teaching assistant for practice during our tutorial Tuesday, and, to my surprise, I was able to rattle off almost everything without looking at my notes. I guess making a fool out of myself while trying to practice with my local friends has its rewards! I should mention that Twi is a relatively easy language to learn. Unlike French and English, prepositions don't exist and there are almost no irregular verbs. The only challenges I've encountered are the tone and spelling. Since Twi is more of an oral language, it is difficult to find dictionaries online or even in paper format. The tone also can be the difference between past and future tense and will completely twist the meaning of your sentence if not employed correctly! Once, I was actually trying to apologize to Rex, but instead of saying "Sorry" I said, "Muffin". My tone was wrong... 


           The biggest change in my schedule these past two weeks has been the opportunity to tutor a young girl from Play and Learn named Jessica. It has been the most humbling experience of my life. I first submitted to humility when we were finalizing the days and times we would meet for lessons. With all the embarrassment in the world, I asked if she could escort me across the street the first few times we met. The street that separates Jessica’s town from campus hosts one of few stoplights in Accra, but to a westerner, the traffic situation is still utter chaos. I’ve learned that once the first three lanes have a red light, I should ever so carefully yet briskly make my way across. Many times, motorcycles are weaving in and out of traffic, so I always have my ear tuned and am peeking around cars before stepping in between them. There are two lanes that appear to not have a light, so at that point everyone is just dodging traffic. If we can’t cross, we stay put and everybody drives around us. I sigh in relief as we reach the median. After a few motorcycles fly by, it is usually safe to scurry to the entrance of Jessica’s town. 

Friday night traffic in Accra

             Jessica’s town is only a couple hundred of yards from campus, but it shows a completely different side of Ghana. While thanking God for making it across the road safely yet one more time, I hustle past the trotro mates hollering “Madina! Madina” and the street sellers onto the dusty, stony path that leads to Jessica’s house. Little shops, restaurants, and living spaces fill each side of the street. I often hear "Obroni!" at least once each time I pass through. ("Obroni" literally translates to foreigner but is only used to refer to white people.)

             Witnessing the living conditions of this town has been difficult to say the least. My fellow Ghanaian explained that it's still one of the more developed areas in Accra. However, even in Ghana's capital where I have access to almost all American comforts if I search them out, the differences between the United States and Ghana are a very hard slap in the face. I suppose the most eye-opening part is seeing how the classifications of “needs” and “wants” conflict. Even though I often missed breakfast because I could not get out of bed in the morning, I grew up with the necessity of three meals a day engrained in my mind. Here, it seems that two meals a day is a blessing. The one word I would use to describe Ghanaian food other than spicy is heavy, and I think I now know why. I could of course go on and on about what crossing the street in Accra has taught me. 

              Jessica begins her day with morning chores before beginning school at 6am. Although she is no doubt exhausted as she doesn't get home until 4:30pm, she is always ready to practice her lessons with me. She has made major improvement even this past week with adding and subtracting mixed fractions, and Mathway has helped give me a refresher too! I've also been able to help her with French, a requirement for all Ghanaian students. One of her cousins is from the Ivory Coast and speaks French too. If I'm not doing so hot in Twi and want to converse in something other than English, French is always my go to!

             Although these past two weeks have challenged me greatly, they have included some of the most enlightening moments of my life. I look back at the goal I wrote down only months ago to dive into a new way of life and share my culture with others, and I feel I am doing that. Tomorrow Ghana celebrates its independence from Britain in 1957, so instead of attending class and going to my internship, I will spend my morning at Jessica's Independence Day parade. She invited me herself and has not stopped talking about it! How could "Aunty" say no? I am looking forward to it!
         

Getting Into the Groove of Ghana!

           Almost a month after feeling the initial heatwave of West Africa, I am finally gaining some independence and am establishing a routine. The little Twi I knew before my arrival is now evolving into legit conversations with the locals, the mandatory class activities outside of lectures are starting, and I’m now able to navigate the streets to my internship alone. Progress is progress! I'm still in a state where I'm constantly wondering what I'll learn next, and I love that too.

          One of my favorite parts about going to a different part of the world is the opportunity to experience nature differently. My time in France and Colorado gifted me with some pretty awesome shots with picturesque, snow-topped mountains in the backgrounds. Not only did I go to the beach for the fourth time in three weeks this past weekend, but I also took my very first surfing lesson! The fact that I put more than my feet in the water is an accomplishment itself. I normally don’t immerse myself unless I can clearly see the bottom. (Lake swimming at summer camp was an absolute no all those years.) By the end of my one-hour lesson, I had successfully caught a few waves on my stomach and was learning how to stand. I think my personal best was teeter-tottering for a total of two seconds before falling into the ocean. Each splash into the water felt as if I had taken the Morton’s salt container out of my grandma’s cupboard and was just pouring it down my throat and shoving it up my nose. The intensity of the waves also made it difficult to even position my surfboard. Very close to the shore, I could still feel the sand vanishing beneath my feet as the tide tried to pull me into the ocean until a wave from the other direction pushed me back to shore. Surfing is a tough sport that requires impeccable timing and quick, flexible movements, but it was one of the coolest experiences I’ve had so far!

           Though I wouldn't typically describe myself as a kid person, all of that changed this Sunday afternoon. For my Service Learning course, I am required to do a certain number of hours of hands-on local service. Play and Learn is an after-school program that meets right on campus and aims to instill qualities of independence in underprivileged schoolchildren. Some friends and I are assisting with their Mobile Library Program, meaning we just read with the children. I got a seven-year-old girl named Beatrice as my reading partner. She couldn’t read by herself, but I found out that as soon as I started reading, she would follow along with her finger and repeat after me word by word. We picked designated words for her to say, such as “dog” and “car”, and she would say them with glees of excitement each time. Besides the actual reading part, she was fascinated with my Chicago water bottle and loved wearing my West Lafayette drawstring bag (perhaps even more than I do, haha!). The children here are also quick to show their affection. They add "Aunty" onto almost everything they say to us, hold our hands, give us hugs, and run their fingers all over our skin to see how it feels.  Beatrice also practiced my Twi with me and spent a good minute trying to get me to say "Twi" just like her.  Needless to say, I am greatly anticipating seeing the children again this Sunday!

          I also chose to intern at West Africa AIDS Foundation, or WAAF. It fits nicely because Albright is counting my Service Learning as a Public Health requirement.  My decision to intern there has made me more independent because the Ghanaian way to get to WAAF is via the trotro. Vera taught me how to do it step by step and landmark by landmark last week. (Street addresses are uncommon here.)  I usually catch a trotro that's heading towards Madina, Haatso, or Accra. I quickly learned that the mates (assistants to the trotro drivers) are constantly shouting the names of towns out the windows, so it's not hard to know where it is going if you have an idea of Ghanaian geography. Before boarding, I verify with the mate that the trotro will stop where I need to get off, and I remind him of my destination when I pay. Once I get off my first tro tro stop, it usually takes a total of a minute to find another one, and then I’m at my internship within fifteen minutes. On a rare occasion, if no trotros are present at my first stop, I’ll have to cross the street to the station. Then I try to find a full trotro beause if it’s at the station, it won’t leave until it’s full! 

           The trotro station closest to WAAF is like most others. It's a dusty, stony lot that's home to markets, a taxi station, chickens, and any random cars or motorcycles that decide to pass through. As I make a right at the gas station, I walk on a fine line of dust gathered over to the side that serves as a sidewalk. If I feel too crowded or there's a car parked on the street, I simply hop over the open gutter filled with trash and I'm in someone's marketplace. I usually see a chicken with a plastic bag stuck to its feet at least once a day. This past month in Africa has given me the chance to witness some purely gorgeous sights of Ghana and even defeat many stereotypes. However, my ventures even three kilometers outside my safety zone of campus never fail to keep me humble.

           WAAF seems like the perfect fit for me here. People are extremely welcoming, and whenever the website is not functioning correctly, my coworkers and I never fail to find ourselves in a very interesting discussion about our different birthplaces. So far, I’ve worked on data entry for the national website and created a flyer for Hepatitis B prevention. I'm sure it depends on the area and I can't find reliable statistics, but I know enough to say that Hepatitis B is a major concern here and few people know a vaccine exists. I will also be able to conduct my own research project to take back to class, which I hope to start next week. I am so excited for that!

          I also find that mealtimes with Ghanaians are very memorable moments. Not only do they take very seriously the opportunity to sit and relax while eating, but I receive the benefit of actually learning to eat! My tastebuds’ cultural experience this week was bangku, a cousin of fufu. A native would passionately describe the differences to you in a heartbeat, but all I know is that instead of cassava and plantains, the "ball" is made of cornmeal (and probably something else). Just like fufu, it is thrown into a bowl of soup and you eat it with your hands. I don’t think Ghanaians understand the concept of a “smaller portion”. I tried to explain to my friends that as much as I wanted to embrace Ghanaian culture, my stomach would only handle a little bit. I still found myself in front of a massive looking bowl. I sat opposite of my classmate, who instructed me how to eat. She taught me to use my thumb to guide a lump from the "ball” into my four other fingers. Then, I was to soak it into the groundnut (peanut) soup and lean over the bowl as I popped it into my mouth. It probably wouldn’t have been so messy had I learned earlier to put my fingers in my mouth along with the bangku so that I could suck/lick the soup off of them. (Who needs napkins anyway?) Perhaps the hardest part was to swallow it in one shot without chewing. The closest American food I can compare the consistency of bangku to is peanut butter. I can't really compare bangku to anything I've seen or tasted before though. As with most Ghanaian foods, the bangku made my nose run and caused me to reach for my water bottle about every three bites. First times are first times though, and I will go back for more!

         This weekend is one of the more “chill” moments I have. For all I know, I might end up at the beach with some friends again. Other than plans to hang out with my brother Francis, I have a good amount of homework to conquer and a newly purchased Twi dictionary to peruse!

Experience is the Best Teacher

           Long before I was of age to realize it was already a quote, my grandmother instilled the belief in me that experience is the best teacher. I think that simple proverb accounts for a big part of my decision to come to Ghana. It ran through my mind as application duties turned into long nights, immunizations became less than convenient to obtain, and as I stood in line in JFK feeling so unprepared for such a journey. I knew that no matter how much I could learn about Ghana via Google, nothing could replace learning about Ghana from the Ghanaians. Every first time and new piece of knowledge comes with a longing to share it with everyone “back home”, so here is a bit of my new life experiences so far!

The other side of the Atlantic!

 1. The Geography of Ghana 

       

           It is quite an accomplishment that I am not only able to place myself on a map of Ghana but also the regions from which my Ghanaian friends come. Ghana is split up into ten different regions, home to their own people groups and languages. The average Ghanaian speaks between three and six languages. Usually, he/she speaks the language of his/her people group, the local language of Twi, and of course English. That, to me, is amazing! The Akans were the native settlers of Ghana and have descendants in five different regions today – Western, Central, Eastern, Brong Ahafo, and Ashanti. (The Akans also gave us the Twi language.) Anybody from the other regions descends from other parts of Africa. I’ve finally learned/memorized enough to know which buddies are “Gas”, “Ewes”, “Brong Ahafos”, and other people groups I don’t even dare try to spell yet. I met a former buddy the other day who came back to visit with everyone. Once she said she was from the Greater Accra region, I asked if she was a Ga. Her response was, “How did you know? Did Esther teach you all of that?!” Yes, both Rex and Esther very patiently taught me all the ins and outs of a map of Ghana on three different occasions. 

2. The Ghanaian Identification System

           Once you know which region of Ghana a person is from (or even before you know that), you can usually determine which people group he/she comes from based on the dialect/accent of any of the various mutually intelligible languages in Ghana. The next important piece of information is which day of the week the person was born. Each Ghanaian has a name descending from the Twi word. For example, I was born on a Thursday (Yawoada), so I am a “Ya”. Eddie is a “Yaw” because it’s gender dependent. If I understand it correctly, a person’s full name goes day of the week, designated first name, people group, designated last name. No other Ghanaian has that exact same information!  Some Ghanaians use their “birth day” as their first name, but many use it interchangeably with their “English” name. They especially respect that I’m still learning the days of the week and that getting a necklace proudly proclaiming I was born on a Thursday is a new concept for me. I did meet two classmates who introduced themselves as Afia (Friday) and Ama (Saturday) though. Unless I meet another  Afia or Ama in that class, I think I can adapt!                                                                                                                                                                                    3. Where does your mother come from?

           As soon as I thought I knew where all my Ghanaian friends came from, I realized I didn't. Well, I didn't have that information in American terms. That realization struck as I was walking back to my dorm with Richard today. I asked him if his siblings were living in the Volta region, and, understanding my confusion, he specified, "I have never lived in the Volta region." At first, I was confused because that's where he told me he was from. Two seconds later I remembered what my Twi professor taught us. Since Ghana is based on matrilineal succession, Ghanaians refer to where their mother is from when asked where they are from. When Richard told me he was from the Volta region, he was simply saying that his mother is from there. I now know to ask, "Where have you lived" or "Where do you live when you are not at school?" to get the American equivalent. 

4. The African Handshake

           The African handshake is not too different from the one we use in America (and elsewhere). I start off with the normal handshake position, but instead of going up and down, I turn my hand clockwise. Then, I pull my fingers apart from the other person but find his/her middle finger and snap it. It took a lot of practice to master! At the beginning, I either felt I “aggressively” pulled the person’s middle finger while trying to snap it and/or my hands were so sweaty/greasy that I didn’t hear a snap. However, I am happy to say that my buddies educated me well and I can now greet people with an African handshake!

         Now that I am proficient in the handshake, every time I go up to greet the buddies, they either open their arms for a hug or indicate they want a fist bump. As Vera said, any greeting but a kiss is acceptable. “We’re not French,” she added. It’s obvious I’m not from here, so many people go for a normal handshake when I introduce myself. Who knows though until we’re halfway through?! 😉

 5. Socializing in Ghana

             One of the most important pieces of advice I would share with anyone coming to Ghana is to greet people. Greetings are of foremost importance here. I'm not sure what would happen if I greeted people in the United States as often as I do in Ghana. I’m still learning the happy medium, but our program resources pressed us to be sure to greet every person in authority on campus. If you don’t greet someone and you need something, that person has every right in Ghanaian culture to refuse your request for assistance. Some past international students have experienced that misfortune. 

           However, once you greet a Ghanaian, it's usually not too hard to find yourself in a conversation. You'll likely exchange numbers within minutes of meeting the person and get invited over for a visit. It can be a bit disorienting and strange at first because people are a lot more outgoing here than in the United States. Though I'm always on guard, most times, people are not what our program calls "professional friends" and really mean well. Last night, I suggested to a classmate that we go out to the night market for food and then eat at the International Student Hostel. Once we got to the market, she insisted that I was invited to go back to not her room, but her best friend's room. I met her best friend five minutes before! I was treated like royalty and met all of her best friend's roommates. It also gave me an opportunity to practice the introductory phrases I had learned in Twi twelve hours earlier and learn even more! Ghanaians love to practice the language with foreigners and appreciate every effort they put forth to learn it. 

6. The Family Concept

           From the little knowledge I gained about Africa 5,000 + miles away, I always assumed that African society was more inclusive and less individualistic than the United States and France. It’s interesting to see those differences in daily life. In Ghana, it means that everyone around me is either my mother, father, brother, sister, aunty or uncle. “Nua” serves as the Twi word for both “brother” and “sister” and is used for people of similar age, such as my buddies. One of my favorite things to do is say “Me nua, maakye!”. That means “My brother/sister, good morning!” “Maame” and “Agya” is “mother” and “father”. Here, anyone who is related to your mother or father is automatically your mother or father. I guess that means on African terms I have about thirteen mothers and fathers in addition to my biological parents because that’s how many aunts and uncles I have. Wow! Lastly, “aunty” and “uncle” are normally reserved for people not related by blood or marriage. We call our program advisors “aunty”.

          One of my buddies stays with his aunt, uncle, and cousins during his studies because his region of origin is so far away. However, I wouldn’t have known that if I didn’t ask him. When I asked if he lived with his siblings or cousins, he said “They’re both”. I don’t even know how many biological siblings he has. It’s not too hard for me to adapt to this cultural custom though, and I think that’s because I have so many people who played (and still play) a vital role in my life other than my biological parents. I like it!

 7. Personal Space Does Not Exist

           Whether I’m in a car, on a tro tro, with friends, or on my way to class, I've found that personal space is perhaps just as limited as consistent wifi access. I was busy admiring my surroundings at Independence Square with my teammates the other week when I felt an arm extend around my shoulder. Though startled because I was lost in thought, it was one of the buddies just starting up a friendly conversation. Guy friends will link arms and walk hand in hand with girls too. It doesn’t mean any more than, “You’re my sister.” 

           I've also accepted that cars drive closer to each other and people in Ghana than in the United States. I thought my friend was exaggerating when she said that in Ghana, you could literally hand something to another driver. It’s true though. Some guys were even flirting with us the next car over! The closeness is also quite a shock on the first few walks around campus, but I’m used to it now. 

8. Dining Etiquette

           Eating a meal here in Ghana differs not only from the United States and France in spice level but also how you eat your food. Though Ghanaians do often use silverware, there are many Ghanaian dishes where only hands are advised. Yesterday, my American friends and I tried fufu for the first time. Fufu is basically a ball of flour pounded and thrown into a bowl along with a spicy soup (peanut/groundnut, goat, cow, chicken, etc.) The gracious locals saw us struggling and taught us that the index and middle finger is used to “cut” the dough. Then, we are to dip it in the soup before swallowing without chewing. It can get messy, so there is a communal washbowl in the middle of the table. I have yet to master eating soup with only my hands. Halfway through our meal, the cook (and server) offered us spoons. Looking at me, she said, “You’re really trying! Are you sure you don’t want a spoon?” With my newly bought water bottle almost emptied, I politely declined, determined I was going to eat like my Ghanaian friends since I was in Ghana or not at all. 

          As I probably mentioned before, people also only eat with their right hand here. I’m getting good at not using my left hand at all to be on the safe side at meals and when handing people items. It is also culturally polite to offer (and insist nicely) that others eat with you if they approach you at mealtime. This goes for strangers, acquaintances, and friends. Rex gave me some of his kenkey today, which is basically fermented cornmeal. I was so eager to observe how he ate that I forgot he would actually make an effort to share his food. It was good though. Thanks, Rex!

9. My New Walmart

          I'll always remember my first couple trips to the night market. Mangos, coconuts and other fruits were built up like a wall. I watched in fascination as women carried empty tubs on their heads to refill at the well. (That’s something I only saw on video in anthropology class before.) However, when Eddie told me to try to purchase a new laptop charger there, I was tempted to tell him, “I've already checked the Accra Mall, and if they don't have it, a street vendor won't. Let's just take a tro tro to Osu (the next town over)." I followed his advice though, and, needless to say, we didn’t have to go to Osu. 

 10. Stores/Vendors often do not have change.

           One of the first questions I ask when I am ready to buy something "Do you have change?" After a few incidents, I learned that I was not as bad at math as I thought for a second. Ghanaians just often do not have change. One of my favorite snacks here are the frozen yogurt bars called “Fan Yogo”. (It follows my philosophy of “Fruit delights every day keep the adaptation shock at bay.”) When I told the cashier that I only had 10 cedis and it only cost one, she told me to come back later when I had the exact amount. No credit/debit cards are accepted either as most business occurs on the streets. On any other day, it would not have been a big deal. However, I really wanted that Fan Yogo! I’ve learned that Ghanaian friends are great resources for cash exchange 😉

11. The Ghanaian Time Zone

          Although Ghana falls into the Greenwich Time Zone, I like to joke that it is on its own time zone. Let me just say that if you are on a date, I hope you like your partner because you will be at that restaurant for a long time! It can take over an hour to receive food at any given eating place. The “Ghanaian Time Zone” is visible elsewhere too. Professors often come twenty to thirty minutes late to class (if they come at all), and a 15 minute drive to the mall often takes over an hour with traffic. Ghanaians are very patient people, and I hope I will acquire that virtue soon. It's been a true test!

12. The Harmattan Struggle is Real

           Today's forecast (according to my phone weather app) was dust. I've never seen that one before, but again this semester is my first time in Africa. Though the distance between Accra and the Sahara Desert is greater than the distance between my college in Pennsylvania and my loved ones in Indiana, the Sahara still announces its presence during what we call the Harmattan (a cooler name than “dry season”). During the Harmattan, winds from the Sahara bring dust down right to us. It is everywhere. It tickles my nostrils, turns my water brown as I’m washing clothes, and creates a haze that resembles fog. I literally walked into a pile of dust last week while doing a practice run for my courses. I guess one plus side is that it ever so slightly blocks the sun!

13. Who Needs Hot Water?

           I’ll always remember (and laught at) my first shower in Ghana. As I stood there trying to figure out how to turn it on, I had to audibly pep talk myself into taking a cold shower. It was a stretch for me even despite the heatwave. Last week, I graduated from a cold shower to a bucket shower. I realize now that cold water is even a luxury because water outages are so common. Don’t worry! One can buy a bucket for showering as well as drinking water at the night market, and there is a water tank outside the hostel. I have tried my best to adapt but definitely appreciate not having to brush my teeth with bottled water more than I ever did in the States!

And lastly, but not least.....

  

14. The Lizard Problem

            During my first week in Ghana, I received the following text in our group chat: Can someone help me get this lizard out of my room? Though I haven’t had issues with lizards in my room because I’m on the third floor (or second in Ghanaian terms), other teammates have had them in their laundry buckets, behind their dressers and even on their beds. I think we’re finally starting to accept it as normal. Outside of campus, it’s a world full of roosters, chickens and goats too! I have not seen one rabbit or squirrel yet, but Rex confirmed they exist.

I can't think of anything that excites a greater sense of childlike wonder than to be in a country where you are ignorant of almost everything. 

                                                              - Bill Bryson