Welcome to Ghana: Some First Impressions

I stepped off of the plane in Accra into the wall of heat and moisture that is the true definition of humidity (Montreal has no idea what it’s talking about). At ten p.m. it was like swimming through a mud bath – and with one bag on the front and another on my back, I was moving at a tenth my regular pace while sweating ten times as much.
Ghana is sensory overload. If you’ve been to the zoo, to the tropical area, it’s like that – that hot, that moist, that same exact smell (except mixed with some mango and egg sandwich and lily-ish smells). Along with all that though, I have been bombarded with an infinite array of loud, seemingly unnatural colours – the soil, the trees, the buildings and clothes – and unexpected sounds (last night, a cricket whose song resembled the ping of a satellite and a rooster with no concept of time – he crowed at one am).
I’ve not been here long, and so while I have seen millions of new things, I’m afraid to speak too much about Ghana in case I find myself making gross generalizations about the country and the people. There are a few things that have really stood out for me though – things which have made me look twice, have made me laugh, have taken my breath away, have made me think “wow”.
On the bus from Accra to Tamale (13 hours packed like sardines in a bus with no air-conditioning in the sweltering heat) we passed a man who was carrying a fridge on his head. The entire fridge – that thing you have in your kitchen keeping everything cold? Yeah – on his head.
One of the long-term volunteers told me the other day that “no vehicle moves in this country unless it is completely full – and then they’ll squeeze a couple more people in.” That’s exactly how the bus was from Accra: each row of seats had an extra seat which folded down into the aisle – a great way to use all the space, but it really sucks if you’re at the back and need to get out. At one point, a man about my age had to use the toilet (the toilet, not the urinal – huge difference). There were lots of shouts and laughs from the back, telling the driver to stop the bus – the poor guy had to climb over every person sitting in the aisle of the bus while the rest of the bus teased him . . . and when he climbed back on he was given a round of applause and a handful of tissue. Okay, maybe it’s a teeny bit of a gross example (although I’ve come to very close terms with my bowel movements – in order not to have a similar bus incident) but I really loved how close everyone seemed to be – all these people who had never met before were able to be so easily comfortable together.
The weather is hot – but I don’t know how hot. That was a funny realization, that I have no numerical measure of the temperature like I do at home . . . all I can say is that it’s ten o’clock pm, I’m inside in the dark with a fan on, and I am wet everywhere. Yum. It’s funny how quickly I’ve given up on being dry though – my best investment has been in a handkerchief to wipe my face. Other than that, I am just resigned to being sweaty – and generally covered in red dust. The heat makes the coming of the rains all that more gratifying – before it rained today we saw the clouds building up and the sky turned this hazy orange colour. I turned to someone and asked if it was going to rain – they said that I should wait for the winds. About five minutes later, and incredibly strong wind picked up – it came from all sides, and it blew the dust up into the air. Less than two minutes later, the skies opened, and you could feel the humidity break – it was such a refreshing feeling.
Today we spent the day in market in Tamale, picking up anything we needed and speaking to people – learning the language and the way things are done. I have a lot more to learn – more than I have time for, it seems. But it has only been forty-eight hours, and I am getting there, “small small”.