I arrived in Accra a little over two
weeks ago along with my brother, Ben, for whom this experience was
entirely new. We were met at the airport by friends and my fiance
who helped us haul our luggage to a vehicle and piled into the car
with us to escort us back to Cape Coast and I overwhelmingly felt
like I was on my way home. This time I didn't feel so much like a
foreigner coming for a holiday, but rather a friend returning for an
extended visit. I know what to expect most of the time. The
creative interpretation of traffic laws does not set my nerves on
edge anymore. I like to think I've become a master in the art of
waiting, a requisite for life in Ghana. As I walk the streets, I am
met by people who know my name and who say "welcome back."
I'm being called upon later today to show some students from the U.S.
around the city by someone who has lived here her whole life and
thinks that I'm qualified for the job.
While many things have grown
unremarkable to me, I want to strive not to forget what it was like
to experience them for the first time. The first time I travelled
here, it was about the place. The second time it was equally about
the place and the people. This time, my motivation for coming was
almost entirely based upon people. (Certainly one person in
particular.) For two years all of my travel has been focused on this
one city in Ghana and by the end of this summer I will have spent ten
months here collectively. I don't want to travel to a place just to
leave it behind but I want to have people across oceans I can look
forward to returning to. When I leave in August, I may be leaving a
place behind but I will look forward to returning to the people.
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