Teach Me How to Boogie

I just got internet for the first time since I've been here, so I haven't been able to post much so far... but hopefully Eliya and I will pick it up as we settle in soon! Here's my blog post from a couple days into the trip:

“Wait, did we get here yesterday?” my roommate, Theo, asks me. After a long pause – me trying to wrap my mind around how that could be possible – I say, “yeah, I guess we must have.” Neither of us could really believe it; it just didn’t feel like its been only two days. So much has changed already, and probably because of that, we couldn’t shake the feeling that it just seemed as though we had been immersed here for longer.

            Our group flight landed in Accra, Ghana at about 1:00pm on Wednesday afternoon. I was dead tired, because like the brilliant human being that I am, instead taking the time to sleep on the plane in preparation for the day ahead of us, I ended up reading 300 pages of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Classic book, such a page-turner, but probably not the best idea ever. As we got off the plane, it was pretty obvious that we were “no longer in Kansas.” Let’s just say that hot doesn’t quite do it justice. I’ve been to Israel in the summer, that’s hot! The sun blares down at you as you begin to feel like you might melt if you don’t find some air conditioning soon. Ghana won’t cause you to melt. In fact, there is no sun at all. The entire sky is covered by a grayish, reddish haze that stretched everywhere. Fog? Pollution? Nope, it turns out that it’s actually called the Harmattan, a West African wind originating in the Sahara Desert that blows across the area, blanketing entire cities in dust. Rather than melting, you feel as if you just stepped into an oven. You can’t even see the sun, reminiscent of a foggy day in San Francisco, but the air just happens to be at least 30-40 degrees hotter; it literally sucks all the moisture out of you and you end up dry as a bone.

            The seventeen of us walk out of the airport, nearly coaxed by hopeful taxi drivers, and right into a sign that says “UCEAP Ghana.” Wooo! But wait, those were Ghanaians holding the sign! I nearly slapped myself. What, did I think that the UCEAP staff were all Americans like I’m used to, and that we’d get slowly introduced to Ghanaian life as we go? Ha, I’m not sure what I was thinking, because instead this was just the beginning of us being thrown headfirst into Ghanaian life. We made our way onto the bus outside, our staff firmly reminding us not to allow anyone to help carry our bags for a tip, and we got on as some men hoisted all our luggage onto the roof of the truck and tied it up with some rope. I giggled – this was going to be different. And with all the women carrying large fruit baskets on their heads, offering us some snacks as we drove by, and learning about the different ways Ghanaians view the world and experience university (like how my new friend and neighbor, Gyimah, is devoutly Christian and chooses not to drink alcohol and go to bed by 10pm most nights so he can wake up early the next morning)… I guess it was different. But it was also sometimes the same. We were continually reminded that Ghana was in a process of flux, changing as they learned more about the West, and definitely not out of the reach of globalization. In fact, at our time at Accra mall today (the largest mall in Ghana, probably akin to a smaller Israeli mall and a dwarf compared to Valley Fair back home), I ate a “chicken burger an chips” for lunch that might as well have been shipped here from KFC. And even though Gyimah didn’t party over the weekends, often choosing to go home to see his family in Accra instead, he seems like his smile never leaves his face – such a genuine, happy guy – and that just isn’t so different at all.

            But the most awesome thing we’ve done so far on the trip is learn how to boogie. Let’s just say…. I’m not the most coordinated human being on this planet. Ok, I take that back, I used to do martial arts so I’m not completely jello – but if you take me dancing, I might as well be. I got my two little moves that I just repeat over and over and I hope its dark enough that you wont notice that I look like an off-beat gooseling trying to find the rhythm :P. But we were learning African dancing! Maybe that would be different! … nope. I’m still terrible, almost knocked out the people on both sides of me and got the whole group laughing hysterically at me when I failed at following directions in the “simon says” game. At least I wasn’t as bad as my partner though, who literally looked like a chicken flailing its wings after getting its head cut off… and I’m not saying that because I’m being harsh, because I’m soooo bad, I’m saying that because that’s ACTUALLY WHAT SHE LOOKED LIKE! For some reason though, I got lost in the dancing, I stopped caring about what I looked like and just felt my body really wanting to be in tune with the rhythm. Yeah, I couldn’t dance, but for the first time something inside me wanted to – as our professor calls it - boogie.

            Theo and I, the only two guys in our group (I know you just heard that bow chicka wow wow), move into our permanent rooms in Legon Hall (one of the male dorms) on Sunday. Until then, we’re going to try to get adjusted to living here – hopefully finding ourselves some awesomely colorful local attire – while getting to know as many people as possible and continuing our adventure. By the way, let me know how these blogs are going: ask me questions, make suggestions, tell me I suck. This is the first time I’ve blogged, so help me out here, and hopefully in the next one I’ll talk more about the cultural differences I’ve already noticed here.