Into Africa

Finally, after being in airports/airplane for over 18 hours, we trudged off the plane in Accra with that I’m-so-tired-I-feel-hungover feeling.  Luckily, 3 out of 4 kids were holding it together.  The 6 year old was not, which we had both predicted would happen well before the trip even began.  Thankfully, the embassy had sent an expediter to help us through customs/immigration and baggage claim.  Being the only white family on the plane with kids, we weren’t hard for him to spot, and he greeted us warmly.  After getting our passports stamped (using the special diplomat line, pretty cool!), he led us to the far end of baggage claim, the only area where there were a few seats.  He invited the kids and I to sit while he went to our baggage carousel with Don and waited for our bags.  So there the kids and I huddled, feeling awkwardly conspicuous and out of place, no other white people as far as we could see. A flight full of Ghanaians had just landed from Dubai, most of them dressed in beautiful white hijabs and flowing white garments that sparkled with sequins. They were boisterous and loud, and I couldn’t figure out what they were doing.  They would set a bunch of their luggage on luggage carts, then gather all together in a big crushing mob, pressing in on each other and shouting.  Then they would separate, organize more luggage, then do it again.  Finally, an elderly lady came over to our bench, made a quick motion to “scoot” and then basically sat right on top of Dominic.  I had already learned from other FS members and from watching on the plane that “personal space” is not a concept that matters at all to Ghanaians.  Dominic stayed put, but looked at me with a “what the heck” look on his face.  I didn’t want to be rude and shout over to him that it’s a cultural thing, so I just smiled reassuringly at him and gave him a thumbs up.  It’s ok dude.  He took it surprisingly well, although a few hours later he brought up the incident and said that was “sus.” 😂

It took about an hour for Don and the expediter to get all the bags, the 6 year old losing it the entire time.  At one point I took her to the bathroom, where we were surprised to find one woman throwing up in the sink and another African woman totally naked from the waist up.  That’s when it started to hit me.  We are not in Kansas anymore Toto.  On the bright side, the unfamiliar sights finally shocked the 6 year old into silence, her eyes big as saucers as she tried to make sense of this new world. Finally, all the bags were gathered and we headed out the front doors of the airport.  Don, just ahead of me, turned around, grinning, to see my reaction.  In the US, people drive up to the airport to pick up their loved ones.  Here, we were met with a massive wall of HUNDREDS of Africans, all waiting there on foot.  Again, although there had been a handful of other white people on the plane (none with kids), they were nowhere around and we were the only “obronis” (Twi word for white person) in sight.  As we stepped out of those doors, it felt like a curtain was being drawn open on a stage, and WE were the opening act. Feeling like a deer in the headlights, I hoisted our 3 year old up on my hip, pulled a carry on with my other hand, and plunged through the little path in the middle of the crowd.  Thankfully, the 2 drivers the embassy had sent for us and our luggage swooped in along with our expediter to guide us through the crowd and deter any overenthusiastic “helpers.”  Ghanaians are extremely friendly, but will offer to help and then expect cash from foreigners for even the smallest gesture, like pushing a luggage cart 2 feet.   One gentleman walked next to me and said “Akwaaba!  It means ‘welcome’.  You understand?”  Again, not wanting to be rude, I nodded and smiled at him.  He and the few people he was with then started trying to “help” push the luggage carts, even though our expediter and drivers were already doing so.  As we climbed into the van, they held out their hands for money.  I still haven’t figured out how to be polite and yet not set myself up as a target for extortion at the same time!  One of the many many things I have yet to learn.

As we drove through the streets to our compound, all exhaustion was forgotten as we took in the sights of this new city, so different from any I had ever been to.  I loved seeing all the traditional African sights, the women with babies strapped to their backs, the street hawkers with baskets of everything you can think of balanced on their heads.  Again, every time they noticed that there was a van full of obronis, they would come up to us and tap on our windows, pointing out their wares.  One man selling drawing tablets for kids noticed Isabel’s little face in the window, and wrote “education is great” on the tablet, showing it to her through the window.  What must a 3 year old think of all this?  I have to admit, in the midst of being excited, my stomach also sank.  Watching the motorcycles whizzing between cars, the street hawkers walking in the middle of the road, the cars driving mere inches from each other through busy traffic circles, and the general lawlessness of the traffic patterns, I realized…I was going to have to learn to drive in this.  That thought still terrifies me a little, but I’m just gonna have to put on my big girl panties, threaten my kids with certain death if they so much as sneeze while mom is driving in Africa, and say a lot of Hail Marys!

Finally, we arrived at our house and my heart just melted.  We had a whole welcome party!  Another family who had arrived just a couple days prior, as well as our social sponsors (seasoned FS veterans who were helping us transition), were waiting at our door, balloons in hand for the kids, casseroles and groceries in the fridge.  I am really beginning to love the foreign service community so much.  There is such camaraderie there, all of us knowing what its like to jump uncertainly into foreign lands, but also knowing we have each other there to soften the blow. 

I will post more stories of our beautiful, terrible, and at times downright hilarious first week in Africa soon! It has been a harder adjustment than I thought it would be, but we figure out a little more each day. Thank you for all the prayers!