I'm thankful to be here though, given the horrific start to my time in this country. I arrived in Accra last night at 7:30 pm, after leaving Istanbul 6 hours prior and New York City another 13 before that. It was an uneventful but mostly sleepless journey, and I was looking forward to connecting with one of the two Cheerful Hearts Foundation directors who had assured me they would be there to meet me at the arrivals gate.
After passing through customs, I made my way into the waiting area. None of the many African men holding signs had one with my name on it. I took a few laps, hoping to find a wireless connection on my dying iPhone, which was now useless for any activity requiring cellular data. No dice. I passed two blonde boys wearing backpacks, and one called out to me, "Hey! German?" I said "no, American." And he gave me a sheepish wave and turned around.
I took a few laps and doubled back to the boy who had called out, who was now alone and sitting. I introduced myself and explained my situation. He was also a volunteer, and had been in ghana for 3 months. He was waiting to pick up a visiting friend at the airport. He shared a plastic satchel of water with me and let me use his phone.
I connected with the program director, who sounded confused but assured me he would arrive in thirty minutes. My new friend Jacob bet that meant two hours. He was right. At 9:30 I was approached by an unfamiliar looking man, who told me he was sent by Eric and would take me the 45 minutes back to Kasoa. He knew my name and who I was (the only Obruni in the airport) so I hesitantly trusted him and followed him to his waiting car.
And then the panic set in. I suddenly knew the true meaning of the term "sheer terror." It hit me that my life was in the hands of a stranger driving like a maniac in the most foreign setting I could possibly imagine. I knew no one on the continent, had no form of communication, and the vulnerability set up camp on my lungs as I had a literal panic attack, unable to breathe and praying harder than ever before in the backseat. The unknowing driver blasted reggae all the way to Kasoa.
An hour later we turned off the main drag and stopped on the side of a dirt village road. Isaac called Eric, the director. Within minutes he pulled up next to us, and i had never been so relieved as I was when I saw another white girl in the car with him. I immediately lost it and began an unprecedented outpour of relieved tears. Eric apologized profusely for the confusion while thanking Isaac for the pickup. My fellow volunteer and roommate Sarah gave me a hug and welcomed me to my home for the next two months. And I cried my face off.
Akwaabe (welcome) to Africa...
Hi Emily. Mike Rubin here. Pat sent the link to your blog... Made me remember a similar situation when I visited Botswana in 2009. Took a bush plane from a safari camp to a small airport expecting to be picked up and taken to our next destination, but nobody was there. Thankfully I used a South African travel agent who answered the phone, made a call and assured me my ride would be there soon, which he was, maybe an hour later. But there was a moment of uncertainty being so far from home, with wife and young child, knowing noone... Also, we had to walk a quarter mile to the passport control, leaving our belongings in his small boat while he waited. Nothing bad came of that or any number of other potentially scary situations. Aside from the hawkers at a river crossing who sold us plastic for bone, everyone was warm, friendly, gracious and helpful. Enjoy your adventure!
ReplyDeleteWow, that's crazy...and wow, you are actually in Ghana! Sounds like you haven't lost your sense of adventure at least. Hope the rest of your experience is just as exciting, but more pleasant. Sending you comfortably dull thoughts to balance it out :)
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