It is hard for me to sit down and write a thoughtful, detailed, insightful excerpt about Ghana. I spent a cumulative of nearly twenty-four hours on bus rides. I am gung-ho about not bringing an iPod off the ship, rather I am partial to the thought that every moment should be taken in with all five senses in order to fully understand a culture. I did bring my journal on the bus, but after the second day I realized that there was not a single road in Ghana that was a smooth ride (i.e. potholes were tended to by throwing stones in them)- any attempt at writing was useless. Therefore these hours were spent inside my own thoughts. Bus rides are a great way to observe a country. A snapshot of a hoard of boys playing soccer in a dirt field is enough to spiral me into thought for a half hour. The panoramic scene of a fish market with hundreds of people selling, thousands buying, and a cluster of men heading back out into the ocean for another net full is a movie that I can replay in my mind for a four hour bus ride home. Thus, my thoughts have been born, processed, analyzed, reprocessed, and written eloquently into a mental blog in my head. Doing things twice bores me. Anyone that knows me knows that I cannot for the life of me tell a story twice. If my bus rides hadn’t been so long and if Ghana wasn’t so interesting, I would’ve written already and these blog pages would be brimming with original thoughts and ideas. The following is my attempt to do the wonderful country of Ghana and her amazing people and raw culture justice.
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