Goodbye USA, Hello Ghana!

The journey went fairly well. Advised by Ian as to where the secret non-crowded security checkpoint was, Samantha and I breezed through Dulles without any complications. My first flight with Lufthansa was ok—the seats were a bit small, but not terrible since there was a petite woman sitting on my left and Samantha on my right; the in-flight meal was pretty good, and there was free Baileys with after dinner coffee and tea; I didn’t get airsick; there was an in-flight movie (It’s Complicated) but it was on teeny-tiny TVs that weren’t well spaced throughout the aircraft and each monitor was a different shade- ours was red, the one directly above my head was yellow, across the aisle was blue; leg room was an issue—which is serious when it’s a problem for me, with my 5’3” frame and stubby little legs, plus the person in front of me kept putting their seat back all the way, which was so not ideal for my comfort.

The flight left Dulles at 5:45pm EST, and arrived at midnight in Frankfurt, Germany. In those 6 hours we were served a snack, dinner, and then breakfast 2 hours later since it was morning in Germany. We navigated Frankfurt airport just fine, and sat to wait for a bus to take us to our plane. The layover was relatively uneventful. My second flight with Lufthansa was overall better than the first—our seats were the first right behind the first-class section, so we had plenty of leg room to stretch out and there was a flat screen monitor in front of us, though no in-flight movie was shown; I tried to sleep most of the flight, unsuccessfully; we were fed a snack, then lunch, then I had to turn down the next snack (which was pizza), and all beverages since I had a coke and a water from the airport.

As soon as we stepped off the plane onto the tarmac, the thick humidity of the Ghanaian air seeped into my lungs forcing a sigh of relief. Finally, I was back. Everything looked the same, and details of my previous trip reentered my memory ranging from the familiar immigration line, to the currency exchange booth, and the two baggage claim belts. As we picked up our bags and headed to customs, I became increasingly aware of a pinched nerve in my shoulder causing excruciating pain. I can only attribute the pain to my sudden physical exertion from carrying 65lbs. on my back. The extent to my recent physical activity probably could be summed up by my haphazard attendance in a beginner Pilates class two months ago.

After going through customs, we hobbled with everything we brought in hand another quarter mile to see Joy standing at the exit to greet us. The air smelled the same, a mixture of sweet bread, exhaust and dirt baking in the humidity. We took a short taxi ride to the tro-tro station, where there emerged the familiar scent of raw sewage. The tro-tro driver was quite bold with his driving on our way to Ho. One woman called from the back, “Driver! Take your time, please! It is already late.” As he sped around potholes and people and dodged goats and other cars, we made our way to Ho. On the way, we stopped along the side of the road with the windows and doors open for a sea of women to spill into the tro-tro with various things to sell—water, bread, kabobs, plantain chips, watches, dried fish, etc.

By the time we reached Ho it was 7:30pm, local time, too late to continue on to the village so Joy showed us to a modest hotel for the night. It was inside a church, just up the street from the BRIDGE office. Our room had a ceiling fan. J We were hungry so we dropped our bags and ventured off to have a night out in Ho with Joy. Wandering through Ho, we met several children who shouted, “yavoo” and tried to touch our arms. We stopped for a little while at Joy’s house where we drank some pure water and listened to extremely loud music—I had no idea what Joy was saying most of the time. His two small speakers were about the size of a CD case and seemed to be fastened out of wood and cardboard. I couldn’t believe how loud it was! Joy handed me a brochure entitled, “Meet Me There,” the name of a vacation spot where you can see giant turtles and crocodiles. He suggested we all go some weekend because he’s friends with the owner—some 59 year old Ukrainian man. It sounds like a lot of fun and really, you can’t beat having an adventure with a local who’s willing to show you around.

We walked through town and down back alleys with only Joy’s cell phone as a light to guide our footsteps. Samantha and I ate fried rice and a small chicken leg across the street from the BRIDGE office (2 cedis each) while Joy watched (he’s a vegetarian) and headed toward a local bar. There was a patio with strings of colored lights hanging all over the place. Inside, the bar was fairly dark with only the glow of a blue sign and a few strings of colored lights to contribute to the ambiance. The music again was excruciating, a trend that made conversation a difficult task, but three beers for three thirsty people helped the night flow. We had Star beer, made in Ghana, each bottle measuring 25 ounces for only 2 cedis and 50 peswas each. The conversation moved from topic to topic. Joy was surprised I returned to Ghana, and that I still remembered a few Ewe phrases. He said many people promise to return but never do. We talked about the World Cup, and how we want to get a cheap Ghana jersey before it starts. Joy runs an electronic store on the side and offered to lend me an appropriate adapter/converter for my laptop. Side note- as I just typed that sentence, I got a painful glimpse into what electric shock therapy must feel like. We’re going to run on battery for a little while… We talked about flip cup and other drinking games. I tried my feet at hackeysack with a small ball Joy carries around and fidgets with as a nervous habit. We talked about friendship in the village, and how there has been one other volunteer since I was last in Saviefe. His name was Kevin. Joy told us of his plans to come the U.S. in August but he’s not sure if he’ll have to postpone his trip. In the back of the bar, a small TV broadcast a game show, “Who Wants to be Rich,” a spin-off of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire.” I glanced back at a few questions.

Question 1: Which person directs a choir? A) Driver B) Conductor C) Teacher D) Coach

Question 2: Which one of these is a plant? A) Glee B) Free C) Tree D) Flee

Samantha and I continued to laugh with Joy and make plans for travel and hanging out together over the next month.

At the end of the night I peeled off my dirty and sweat soaked clothes (that I started this journey in Saturday afternoon) and savored the all mighty power of the ceiling fan. I hoped by morning my feet wouldn’t look so much like awkward swollen appendages and look more like a non-swollen mode of transportation. My body ached all over from sitting for so long, carrying all my bags, and using muscles I haven’t used in quite a while. I will be glad to see some of my tummy fat disappear in the next month. But for now, I will sleep.