Me ko bra, Accra!

Sunday, July 7, 13

            Today was my last travel day before the big trip out of Africa.  I’m becoming more confident in my Twi each day – I was able to explain that I wanted coffee with cream and sugar, loved butter bread, but no eggs.  After that, I joked around when Rita asked why I didn’t take her to the falls, and also explained I was leaving today.  It’s complicated when you hear it, for example, here’s one set to order food: Ma achi, Aura, Ete sen? Me Pa Wa Chow, ma me pano mianue ni blue band.  Me pe pano paa, so, men pe mkosua pa pa pa; Man me.  Meda Ase. 

            I took my coffee out in the middle of the garden and soaked in the morning tranquility.  It was nice paa.

            After packing and taking a taxi to the Trotro station, I tried out my Twi again and managed to get a good price for a lorry that would let us be light at Fise junction for 5 Cidis.  Not the Obruni price.  The ride was similar to the route into Koforidua; full of toll aversion via back roads and dusty pathways.  We arrived back “home” at the Joy Family Lodge, and I was thrilled to see Frank and the guard, Brian.  We took a trotro into town, had fufu, and found another lorry back up to Amasaman.  I decided to stay the full route when the rest of the group left and explore Amasaman.  I purchased some juice and memory for my Tecno phone.

            While walking, I spotted an elderly woman “picking” the empty sachets.  I approached her with my begging gesture, lightly slapping one hand upside down into my palm, asking in Twi about her work.  She couldn’t understand a word I said, which was typical of pickers.  I gave her some money and asked if she’d pose for some photos, which she did.  She was thrilled, and “Ssst’d” a Ghanaian over to serve as a translator for me.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t really get any concrete information, but was thrilled to have had some quality photos of one of Ghana’s most important resources.

            On my troto back, I became rather wistful.  With anticipation of leaving tomorrow next, I thought of how wonderful it’s been to be accepted as I am here.  It’s one thing to meet a stranger, hit it off, and make a friend; it’s far different to get along with literally everyone.  Ghanaians have a collective goodwill in them that I’ve seen nowhere else; not home, Europe, or South America.  Strangers will invite you not just to join them for lunch, but to eat their lunch with them.  When you drop a coin, six people point to where it fell or pick it up and hand it to you.  When you ask for directions, you won’t just be told where to go; they’ll hold your hand and walk you to where you need to go.  Tell me another place where this is the norm, not an exception.  Or don’t; my mind may be made up that this is the friendliest place on earth.