Embracing Africa: The Adventures of an Obrunie

As I left the interview, informed that I had been accepted to the Ghana study abroad program, a sense of excitement and anxiety came over me. The fact that I was really going to Africa didn’t quite sink in however until I stepped off the plane at the Accra airport. Not only was I overcome with the humidity as I took my first steps on foreign ground, but I was also overcome immediately with the people and their conditions.

I had tried to imagine what it might be like over here, but no text books or pictures could even begin to describe the way I would feel simply driving down the streets. Not only has this trip taught me about the people here in Ghana, it has given me a deeper appreciation for life, and has allowed me to learn more about myself.

On my first Ghanaian taxi ride, I got more than I bargained for. The driver kept saying something about a “piece,” but none of us really knew what he was talking about. As he pulled over just outside the airport, I began to get a little nervous. When he ran a few yards out and undid his zipper, our faces changed from that of concern to relief and laughter. I was so glad that all he was doing was going to the bathroom. Although it was a rather unconventional way of welcoming someone to their country, I took it as a welcome none the less.

After catching up on our sleep, and trying to adjust to the time change, we headed to the beach. I was expecting a relaxing day soaking up the sun, but as soon as we arrived, I knew it would be nothing of the sort. People immediately bombarded us, trying to sell us shoes and jewelry, or even paint our nails. My initial frustration quickly changed however when I realized why these people were trying so intently to sell us their goods.

They weren’t trying to make a few extra bucks so they could upgrade their car or take a trip to the mall; they were simply trying to make enough money to feed their family. A small boy, no older than five, came up to us pointing to his mouth, asking for food. When we gave the boy some chicken, his eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. It broke my heart to think that back home having food is a given, but here it was a treat, a luxury.

“Hugging, do you think you can get HIV by hugging someone?” Asking this question along with the several others like it started to become second nature. The responses to the questions however surprised me every time. I had never heard that “deep kissing” or “going to the barber” were ways to contract HIV. The responses seemed to be just as unique as the individuals who gave them. The level of knowledge was extremely broad. While one child would fly through the questions, getting almost every one correct, the next would struggle, uncertain about every answer they gave.

Teaching our first HIV/AIDS lesson went more smoothly than I had expected. The kids were quite responsive and excited to answer all of our questions. As I sat back down after teaching, an overwhelming feeling came over me. How was I going to make a difference? Then I remembered an old story about making a difference. An old man approached a little boy who was throwing starfish back into the ocean and asked him why he was doing it. Didn’t he know that he couldn’t possibly make a difference, there were thousands? Throwing another starfish in, the little boy looked to the man and said, “Well for that one I made a difference.”

Looking at what we are trying to do as a whole can seem like a rather daunting task, but focusing on the individual made it much more approachable. I had to put aside the perfectionist in me, and realize that if only five children applied what we were teaching to their lives, that would be enough. Those five would have happier families because of it, and hopefully the trend would continue throughout their posterity.

Every group we taught seemed to welcome us with more enthusiasm than the last. I couldn’t believe how excited everyone was to learn. It enthralled me to watch them pay attention so intently, soaking up every ounce of knowledge we gave them. I love that we were able to teach on a subject that is so real to them. Going to school is something I have always taken for granted. When I was little I would fake a stomach ache or tell my mom I had a fever in hopes of being allowed a day off from school.

I have always taken the attitude that school is an obligation, not a privilege. As I stood at the front of each of the different classes, there was no such attitude present. They were not impatient with the language barrier or annoyed at the heat of the room, but rather their eyes glowed with anticipation, hoping to learn something new.

Teaching the students in Pram Pram one day, we started talking about the different roles women play in their society. Not all of the students felt that what women had to say was as important as what the men had to say. Until now, I have never truly appreciated women’s rights, simply because I have always had them. I don’t think twice before speaking in front of men, especially when it comes to defending equality. I was truly taken back as the students were telling me that women do not have as much say as a man does.

It took me a minute to regain my composure and try to approach the subject from a different angle, instead of just correcting them and forcing my beliefs upon them. Most all of the students agreed that everyone was equal, but explained that it was not that way in their household. My frustration turned to sympathy as I realized they knew no different. All I could do was give them a new perspective, a new way of thinking, and leave it up to them to put into action.

We decided to have each of the students share with us what they wanted to be when they grew up. I was expecting to hear such answers as “a cab driver,” or “a dress maker,” but their responses were far from those. In our small group of fifteen, all of them had high hopes and dreams. Some wanted to be doctors, lawyers, teachers, a soldier, a police woman, even an accountant. I was so excited to know that these children had visions beyond the typical or the expected. It would be so easy for them to follow in their parents footsteps and continue the family fruit business or learn to drive a car, but instead these young students wanted to continue their education, and become so much more.

I worried about giving them false hopes telling them they could be whatever they put their mind to, but then I realized that sometimes hope is all you have. Living in a small hut with probably several siblings, hope may be what gets these children through each day. Compared to most of them, my life seems like a fairy tale, and some days it is my hope for the future that gets me through, so why would it be any different for them.

When we learned that many students did not attend school because their families could not afford the fourteen dollar uniform fee, my heart nearly broke. Thirteen dollars is what I would spend on a Friday night for two movie tickets without even thinking about the cost. As soon as we found out that we could sponsor the students, I was so excited. The number of students we were going to sponsor kept increasing; we went from ten, to fifty, to the entire school, one hundred and fifty students. The party with the Ringway estates students is a memory that will be forever imprinted in my heart.

The look on the face of every student when we announced that they would all be receiving a new uniform brought tears to my eyes. You could feel their genuine appreciation as they hugged us and thanked us. They presented us with dresses, referring to them as a “small token” to show their gratitude. It was so much more than a small token however, and it will be an item that I treasure forever. Knowing that sacrifice was made so that each of us could receive a gift is the perfect example of the selflessness they have shown to us so many times.

My favorite thing about children is their innocence. From their glowing eyes to their contagious giggle, they seem to radiate purity from every pore. My favorite childhood memories are of tickle fights with my dad and brother where we would laugh for hours on end. I didn’t need a fancy video game or a Barbie doll to entertain me, the love and company of my family was enough. Love is one word that is nearly impossible to define.

They say that “love is a many splendored things,” and that “love makes the world go round,” but to explain love takes more than words. It is the feeling you get inside when you embrace someone who truly cares about you, or the tingling in your stomach when you hold someone’s hand. Love seems to make you whole. The absence of love in so many of the children’s lives here is heart wrenching. As I would hug the children, I could feel them trying to savor every moment of it, not knowing perhaps when their next embrace would be. I wanted to give so much more, but sometimes a hug was all they wanted.

When I was little I would dream of what it would be like once I grew up. For the children here it is no such dream, but rather a reality, and not a very pleasant one at that. Many have to begin working at a very young age in order to help support their family. Their childhood is cut short because they are forced to grow up. I wondered how in such horrible conditions, every child I waved to put a huge grin on their face? Why every time I sang “the princess pat,” they got so excited?

It took a while for me to realize that they weren’t necessarily living in a constant state of bliss, but rather each time we came to play with them, we were bringing a little light to their life. We were giving them something to be happy about. Knowing that you can bring joy into a child’s life is one of the most fulfilling things in the world. It gives meaning to life.

At first I hated not having my cell phone, not being able to call or text message when ever I wanted to. But I’ve started to really enjoy not having it. I feel like being here has been an opportunity to take a break from all of the chaos for a while. It’s a different kind of chaos over here. People are busy with important things like trying to provide the basic, bare minimal essentials of life. At home it’s so easy to get caught up in all of the trivial, worldly things that don’t matter. We have so much that it tends to cloud our views on the things that really matter.

Each day instead of worrying about what I could do for myself, I have started to seek out ways to help others. Being around all of the uplifting people in our group has made the trip that much more enjoyable. Through the sharing of their short reports, playing games at night, and taking interesting taxi rides, we have all become very close. I have met some of the most amazing people on this trip who have taught me new things, and have become dear friends who I will forever cherish.

Not only have we had to overcome several mental challenges, but there have been physical challenges as well. Climbing “Mt. Everest” was one of the hardest things I have ever done. There were so many times where I wanted to turn around and go back down, but the encouragement of others kept me going. Standing on top of the mountain, I was overcome with such a strong sense of accomplishment.

Despite my shaking legs, and sweaty clothes I felt like I could do anything right then. Walking across the canopy walk, it hit me that no where else could I do that. Ghana has provided once in a life time opportunities that have begun to shape my personality and outlook on life.

This trip has taught me so much about myself. Getting through a month of living in another country brings a sense of accomplishment in itself. But more than that, I have discovered how much I enjoy teaching. The feeling I get standing in front of a class room full of eager students, is like nothing else. It makes me so happy to watch the students process the information and ask questions.

Whether it’s teaching them about AIDS or just a silly song, I love the feeling it brings. My appreciation for education has increased significantly as well. Whether or not I have had an impact on the people here in Ghana, they will forever have impacted me.