Page 83 - Obruni In Ghana | Amber Lockridge
P. 83
OBRUNI IN GHANA 81
surprised, delighted, when an arrival official greets our remaining 3-person contingent with a hesitant but smiling "Ma Kye", good morning.
Only 8 hours now and all I want is to go back! Someone just put me back on the plane and tomorrow I will walk off into bright green trees, noisy chickens, smelly goats, and rowdy half-naked children. I don’t like New York.
Everyone has left me now. I’m the sole spot of Ghanaian culture in this huge, cold, gray airport. The walls are gray, the floor is gray; everyone is wearing neutral shades. There’s no noise and I’m completely ignored.
Unlike any time in the last year, AFS volunteers actually met us the previous night coming off the plane. They had our information and were following a timetable. But as reassuring as that was, there was something disturbing. One minute we were all talking together and our hosts seemed interested and engaged, the next minute they weren’t even listening. Were we talking too much or is it just our forgotten American culture?
