A Simple Journey

We traveled to the North to visit a research center, do some interviews, and visit an orphanage. It was to be a simple journey. We were asked to be ready to leave at 7:00 a.m. The driver arrived and as with all things in Ghana there was a negotiation on price. When finally there was no agreement on the charges for our journey other arrangements were made. So, now it is almost 10:00 or later and we are suppose to be there before 4:00, in Kumasi-I am to meet with someone from the University. The arrangements where made Stateside and confirmed when we arrived on Saturday and again earlier in the day. Well, it was after 9:00 or 10:00 when we finally arrived in Kumasi, a very long day! We are told we must be ready to leave at 7:00 and breakfast before. There was trouble with checking out and one begins to wonder..Is it always like this? Nothing moves fast.
There is certainly lots of movement, cars, trucks, motorbikes, bicycles, buses and vans in every direction. But everything takes time and you can only move forward as the car ahead moves forward or motions you to pass. This is something unique to me, one driver motioning to help another. However, everything is unique about this journey. We finally arrive at our destination late Tuesday evening, we are greeted with a meal and beverages. The food is excellent and so is the hospitality. One we are settled we know that we have another full day on Wednesday and we must meet the staff at the Research Center. Our orientation of the facility and the meeting of the staff, a tour of the hospital and meetings with various others rounds out a full day.
But,the day is not over- we want to see a bit of the North and deliver some gifts to the orphanage- again- travel time here is very different- the orphanage is down a dirt road-then again so is everything. There are not highways and paved roads like we experience in the USA. People don't walk around naked or live in trees-yet, life here is very different-complex and simple in the same moment. You see, people do live in mud and grass huts-at least what we would call huts- this does not mean they are poor. Nor, does it mean that they do not send their children to school it only confirms the fact that life is lived differently in different parts of the world. I am amazed! We saw a funeral procession- all the women of the village were caring water form the well to the home of the family where someone had died. You see, everything here from birth to death is about the family and the community.
Another thing that is different are some of the roadside consciences we have in the USA have not reached the continent of Africa. There are no rest stops and I have not seen a MacDonald's or Cracker Barrel so that we could get a quick meal or stop to relieve one's self. But, I can now say I have relieved myself on the side of the road in the USA, New Zealand and Australia. I have purchased toilet paper to relieve myself in a toilet that did not flush and I have used a Muslim squat room/I am sure there is a proper name. No, the travel is not easy, but it is not an experience that I would trade for the world.
We are all different on the bus, Brooke is a Social Psychologist and a widow, Beech is 62 and has been married more than 40 years, Bob is here with his daughter, Anthony was born here, Elizabeth who I continue to call Brooke has not traveled a lot internationally, Lauren will be leaving for Argentina a few days after we get back, Mike is in his 40's with a wife and 2 daughters, Alan is divorced and remarried for more than 25 years with 2 adult sons, and me I am a divorced African American grandmother.
You should hear us on the bus-we are just like a family-we tease one another, we take pictures and laugh at each other sleeping, I think some one is even counting how many times I say I need to use the restroom on the side of the road. Most of all we are growing as individuals. You can tell when you hear a conversation between Beech and Lauren or Brooke and Alan. Or me, as I quiz Waheed about the culture.
I have been asked if someone could buy me- I know he was joking- so we laughed-but some asked me if they could give me their daughter to live with me in America. This may sound strange unless you understand that in Ghanaian culture those with less allow children to live with someone with more to allow the child greater opportunities. So, this is a gift from the mother to the child and the child when educated with help support the family.
Lena