Somehow, going home really hit me with about a month to go. One month. It is going to fly. I think about what I was doing one month ago, compared to what I will be doing in one month (San Francisco), two months (Boston), three months (New Orleans), six months (graduating and moving home). It is kind of a lot to handle.
I have grown to know this country, love this country, be comfortable here. It would be presumptuous of me to say that this is now my home, but it feels like it a lot of the time.
Some of my favorite moments are just walking down the street on my way back from AMIS. It takes about forty minutes from where I get off the tro-tro coming from Nima, walking all the way back to my dorm. I smile at strangers and often surprise them. Obrunis aren't very friendly. It isn't necessarily our fault, it is just what we are used to in the US. When you pass people on the street, you ignore them unless you have a reason not to. Smiling is something done carefully, with a thought to the potential consequences of unwanted attention. Not so here. I smile at everyone. Every stranger is a person. Every person has the potential to change your world and blow your mind, alter your perspective and take your breath away. I have learned to try to see past each face into each story.
I think in Boston a little more than San Francisco, the different meaning of "stranger" will get to me. I can understand why stereotypes build based on cultural values. White people aren't rude, they just don't take the time or don't always recognize the need to ask how the person next to them is doing today.
Travelling to Ghana and being asked questions about the US has made me realize how little of the US I really know, and I think I been to a fair amount of places for my years. I have gone up and down the West Coast, I have road tripped through the Southwest, visited family in New York my whole life, vacationed in Alaska and Hawaii, seen Jeannette at University of Oregon, attended a funeral in Florida, attended a wedding in New Orleans, spent summers and winters in the Berkshires in Massachusetts, gone as far from home as possible for Northeastern in Boston.....and yet there is still so much more to see.
My friend Erin told me about an adventure her sister just went on. Some friends came together, bought a schoolbus, installed bunk beds in the back, and drove around the country for a month and a half. They picked some people up along the way, dropped some off elsewhere, and had some people there for the whole trip. So inspiring! I want to do something similar, and having people to visit from my semester here makes it so logical and possible.
Even within California, there is so much that I want to see, and this summer I hope to make a large dent in that on the John Muir trail. Dad questioned my ability to forego hot showers and varied food for the few weeks I would be backpacking, so clearly he hasn't fully comprehended what it is like to be in Ghana. I can more happily get by with the basics.
This Saturday, CIEE took us to the Volta region, which is the far East side of Ghana, on the other side of Lake Volta. We went to a monkey sanctuary first. We held bananas in our hands, the monkeys scurried over, peeled the banana, and ate a chunk before scurrying away again. Then we drove to Wli Falls, the tallest waterfall in West Africa. I can't even begin to describe the beauty, especially since we are usually surrounded by the less pristine city scape of Accra. But better than looking at the cascades of water coming down, was wading through the pool at the base, shielding our eyes from the stinging spray, and forcing our way under the falls itself. At first, I was led by a Ghanaian guy who was eager to show us few brave girls the way. He held on to me as we made our way step by step through the powerful waters. My sunglasses helped block the water from blinding me, but he had to walk backwards. While standing underneath some of the water towards the front of the falls, I asked if we could go all the way back and touch the rock wall behind us. We forced our way and the feeling was so incredible. I have never felt so cleansed. The power of the water prevented me from even thinking about anything else besides where I was, who I was, who I was sharing the experience with, and how lucky I am. Eventually we made our way out of the waterfall, emerging through the mist to the more timid bathers on the outside. Ezra had been trying to find his way in but couldn't, so I led him back to the wall, resisting the ripples pulling me out. The glasses were long gone, a casualty of a particular wall of water. While under, I thought to myself that I can honestly say it was the coolest thing I have ever done. Money can't buy you everything. Sometimes you just need a waterfall to make you happy.
One of this trip's surprises is that going to this dry, equatorial place has made me feel infinitely connected to water. The ocean is such a force in my spirit, and any body of water just puts me in a good place. I realized I will always need to live by the ocean to feel complete. My name coming true I guess.
Getting back to the original topic of this post, challenges going home:
1. Everything is going to be extravagantly expensive to me.
2. I won't legally be allowed to drink.
3. Fruit just won't be as good.
4. I have to quit my friends here cold turkey.
5. I have less of an excuse to travel every weekend.
6. It will be freezing to me.
7. I won't know any current music, movies, news, gossip, slang, or basically any pop culture.
8. Lily may not recognize me.
9. I will have real classes with real assignments and real expectations of me.
10. I will have a job. Could be a good thing and a bad thing.
11. The speed of the internet might give me ADD after adjusting to the way it is here.
12. I'm just going to want to go abroad again.
But, even so, I can't wait to return and share everything with everyone (pictures, stories, souvenirs, galore!).
Love from Ghana,
Mara
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