Page 53 - Obruni In Ghana | Amber Lockridge
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OBRUNI IN GHANA 51
I notice how relaxed everyone appears. They hold themselves at ease, walking and talking slowly but with emphasis. I, too, have learned a lot about patience and waiting. Living on “African time” is bound to do that, I suppose. I’ve been doing little more than sitting on busses for the past 2.5 days yet I remain free from the anxiety that so plagued me in Minnesota. I read, write, chat, or stare into space with my thoughts. I’ve mastered the art of the catnap. Why is it that Americans are so bound to sleeping only at a certain time? The thing to do when waiting in a long line or for a friend whose a few hours late is to close the eyes and doze in and out of consciousness.
The delicious local diet has not passed by without effect. Nearly everyone has put on a little weight in the stomach area. We freely acknowledge it to each other without the stereotypical stigmatizations. The reason for it all is the choice delectability of Ghanaian dishes and the joy we all take in eating them. Watching the rookies peck guiltily at their food is pitiable with the rest of us digging in with
