The girls and the boys. The U of M students and the UG students. The Obrunis and the Ghanaians. However we are often split up, this weekend we got to take a trip together (minus 1 Scazi) to Cape Coast.
On Saturday, after our very first tro tro ride, we arrived in Cape Coast, and met one of William’s friends who lives there. We ventured to the Cape Coast castle, which was a rather haunting experience on the overcast and dreary day. As we climbed the rocks by the beach, after visiting the castle, laughing and take pictures, I realized how much more special the weekend was that the boys came, and how it felt that the bridge between our two worlds was temporarily severed.
Later that night, playing cards at the hostel felt like being up north with old friends, laughing and yelling at the ridiculousness of Spoons. There was no bonfire and s’mores, but rather flashlights for when the power went out and Shekinah’s singing, which left us grinning from ear to ear in awe of his beautiful voice.
On Sunday, we all conquered the canopy walk together, even though Shekinah was very apprehensive about the height. The hike was less extensive than the waterfall, yet muddy enough to make us regret wearing Toms. The swinging bridges that hung from tree to tree provided magnificent views of the rainforest. We made it out just in time to avoid being caught in the daily downpour, and got to sit and munch on some popcorn while listening to the rain.
William sat next to me on the bus ride back to Accra. He asked me what I was thinking as we began the three hour journey home. I said I was happy. He laughed, as they often do at the things I say, and asked what I meant. Seeing Lydia, Karen and Shekinah in front of me and with William by my side, I felt content, and safely surrounded by good souls. In the beginning of our project, there was a division between the two groups, but at the moment, it felt like we were finally all together as one. I said that I wished more people had the opportunity to share their lives with others, and get to know people from other cultures, because I think people are afraid of what is different. “That is so weird” is a phrase I often hear at home used to describe something that a person feels is out of their own ordinary. But who gets to decide what this one ordinary should be?
If we can look past the cultural differences between us, or rather appreciate them, we can see that we have much more in common than we think.