Field Notes, Day 1

Arrival: Kwame Nkrumah Memorial, Accra Mall

On our way to Ghana the anxiety was at an all-time high, mostly because I feared what I did not know. I had no idea what I would find after a 10-hour flight across the ocean. The series of unexpected experiences started almost immediately, I was stopped as I tried to board the plane in New York because a mix-up occurred in Detroit, unbeknownst to me, and I wasn't properly checked in for my flight. Everyone else was aboard the plane and I waited as JFK staff attempted to find me a seat. I was alone with a father who was attempting to board without a visa, because his daughter caught malaria. I listened as attempts to scan my boarding pass continued to come back invalid, and this stranger grew more frustrated beside me. Every time he mentioned that the last heard about his daughter she was seizing, my heartbeat raced and my anxiety climbed even higher. I kept thinking I didn't want to go anymore. The man's face turned red and his voice cracked between words and then my boarding pass flashed green. So I ran on board the flight to Ghana. Frazzled and looking for my seat, I saw my crew and asked for aisle F. A booming voice and smiling face said, "You're sitting with me!" My seat companion told me he was a Ghanaian working in Minnesota headed back for his father's funeral. He asked me about my trip and we watched "Me Before You." The Africans on the plane were dressed impeccably well, with ornate dresses or sharp looking suits. 10-hours was incredibly long, but with a friendly Ghanaian telling me about all of the cool things I'll see on one side and the students in my class on the other side, I started to feel calmer. Plus, Dramamine helps. I fell asleep, and when I awoke, I saw red soil: Ghana.

The airport was hectic, but everyone moved purposefully. I wanted to keep up. I wanted to follow the rules correctly. I definitely didn't want to get yelled at in there. Also, I just really wanted to find my luggage - in case my suitcase had as difficult of a time as I did boarding the plane. However, we were all able to enter the country with our luggage and head to the Roots Hotel and Apartments. After settling down, taking a brief nap, and eating at Frankie's we changed clothes and drove over to the Brasil House. There we learned about the slaves that were returned to Ghana and saw the man-made boats that lined the coast. The house was preparing to host a party and fabric fanned from the roof to the fences, accentuating the murals painted on the walls in the yard.

Afterwards we visited the gravesite of President Kwame Nkrumah. A golden statue of him, perpetually reaching and moving forward overlooked a reflecting pool with statues. We wandered around the mausoleum and the museum that housed Nkrumah's old desk and old clothes. Documentation of his life lined the walls, from letters he wrote to his son Francis to photos of him with everyone from Fidel Castro to Mao Tse-Tung. Outside the museum is a decapitated statue of Nkrumah, a memoir of the sociopolitical post-coup, the statue was toppled and children took photos standing atop Nkrumah's head. Yet today, visitors stand before his grave in reverence. From there we drove to the Accra Mall. It was crowded and bustling as people danced and shopped. We picked up snacks and necessities, before going to Burger & Relish for dinner and heading to bed.