Page 11 - Obruni In Ghana | Amber Lockridge

OBRUNI IN GHANA 9
bench I wonder if I’m the only one to notice two men across the street, holding hands as they walk. In Minnesota, these two would be making a definitive and somewhat risky statement about sexual orientation. Here, only friendship can be assumed and the act is casually insignificant.
I pull myself out of my reverie long enough to purchase a bottle of Coke for 100 cedis. The exchange rate is remarkably favorable for the American traveler; the pop costs me less than 17 cents. While I am retrieving my drink from the refrigerator, two children spot me from the other side of the street. “Bruni, Bruni” they yell, waving their hands enthusiastically. I smile and wave back. The two boys are ecstatic to have successfully attracted my attention. They jump up and down, pumping their arms back and forth in glee before sprinting out of view. A few minutes later they are back, dragging with them four or five others. The oldest looks at me critically but breaks into a joyful grin when I obligingly wave. The youngest girl, who has been sucking the torn plastic edge of a bag of water, burst