“Tomorrow will be my last day in Ghana.” This thought popped into my mind at the dinner table. I have just finished the final graduation performance for the Davidson in Ghana program, which I think went pretty well. However, it was the last time I am able to sing, dance and drum with my Davidson peers in Ghana. It was the last time I am able to work with the SARD instructors, Mr. Hooper, Mubarak, Kweku and Uncle Edmond. It was the last time I am able to see a lot of wonderful friends I made in these six weeks, such as the headmistress of Ghana National College, my seamstress Ellen, my host family, and the girl selling phone credit in town. Is was the last time for many things, which made me think of the first times for everything.

I still remember the first time I landed in Ghana, the first time my skin touched the humid and warm air in Accra. I kept repeating to myself, “Oh My God. I am in Africa.”

I remember the first time seeing cedis, the Ghanaian currency. I looked at the colorful paper and tried to convert them to dollar in my mind.

I remember the first time arriving at the guest house, wondering around and checking out the place I am going to stay for the future six weeks.

It seemed like such a long time then. Damn, six weeks just flew by.

I remember the first time tearing open a sachet and thought that it is the coolest way to drink water.

I remember the first time ordering a goat kebab and completely fell in love with the powerful spice.

I remember the first time eating fufu, a traditional Ghanaian dish. I was so nervous to use my hands to eat so I washed them again and again before dipping fingers into the bowl. Oh, and our residence director Joshua, who is from Ghana, laughed ruthlessly at my fufu eating skill. Well, I tried. The soup was too hot.
I remember the first time hanging out in the lounge at the guest house, laughing, joking and playing cards with cool people that I didn’t know back in Davidson.

I remember the first time going clubbing in Ghana, we stood in a circle and nervously jammed to the Shatawale songs.

I remember the first time going to SARD class. We were 10 minutes late thanks to the awfully slow restaurant in town. The five of us nervously crammed into a small taxi and I had to sit on someone’s laps. Oh… It was not a pleasant ride.

I remember the first time laying my hand on the hard cow skin of my drum, thinking: “How am I gonna play this big thing.” And we met our instructors Mr. Hooper, Mubarak and Kweku for the first time ever. I knew I would love them from the first sight, and I wasn’t wrong.

I remember the first time going to my host family, Auntie Letisha’s house. She insisted to pop open a shandy to welcome me. I sat on the sofa drinking Shandy and turning up at 1 pm with the 77-year-old auntie, and I thought: “she is the coolest person I have ever met.”

And then I remember the first time going to work at Ghana National College. The long and steep hill leading to the school almost killed me. The headmistress led me into the fourth grade classroom and joked: “Look, I brought you obroni (white person).”

And that was the first time I met my children.

I remember the first time interacting with the students. They took turns to tell me their names, starting from the right side of the classroom: Emmanuel, Isaac, Samuel, Habiba, Phoebe, Justice, Kwame Atta, Maxwell, Vida, Rita, Ruth, Linda…. I told them to give me two weeks to remember all their names. I didn’t even believe myself when I said it, but I did it. I remembered all 34 of the children, and I will still remember them. Always.

If there is a first time for everything, there must be a last time. Am I sad to say goodbye to Ghana? Of course I am. Otherwise I wouldn’t be crying when writing this blog post. Am I going miss Ghana? Of course I will. I will miss this place soooooooo much.

I’m gonna end here. I need to grab a tissue.

For our last weekend in Ghana, Jessie, Marlene, Sabrina, and I decided to take a road trip to Takoradi, which is the third largest city in Ghana according to Wikipedia. Takoradi is located in the western region, and at one point was the porting capital of Ghana. Our reason for going to Takoradi was one of relaxation. I had made a reservation to get a massage at one of Takoradi’s most famous spas, and Jessie, Marlene, and Sabrina planned to lounge by the beachside.

Before my massage, I decided to join Jessie, Marlene, and Sabrina at the beach. We climbed the rocks along the shore and watched as the waves hit along the sides. Jessie, a lover of the sea, ventured out further along the rocks until a wave yanked her down. When she crawled back up it was obvious her foot was injured.

Jessie had accidentally stepped on a sea urchin and now had six of its needles stuck in her middle toe, about three in the palm of her feet, and one in her heel.  I was too excited at her discomfort! The future-nurse in mewas ready to jump to action! According to Google, the sea urchin needles were slightly poisonous so we figured Jessie’s best option was to go ahead and dig the needles out.

With the help of Marlene, Sabrina, a First-Aid Kit and some sewing needles, I, Jada Wiggleton-Little performed my first surgical procedure! I carefully took out exactly two needles from Jessie’s foot before hunger got the best of me and I had to hand my surgical supplies over to a security guard who volunteered his services. As the security guard finished up the operation, the rest of us couldn’t help but sit back and laugh as Jessie cried out in pain, grateful that it wasn’t us in the chair.

However, quickly after lunch I noticed I had a throbbing pain in the heel of my foot. Behold my surprise when I saw that I too had accidentally stepped on sea urchin , and had six needles embedded in my skin. Let’s just say, Jessie was too happy to return the favor…

Last weekend was our last weekend in ghana and also our free weekend. I didn’t really make any set plans for what I wanted to do expect go to the beach.
On Friday, I went to One Africa which is a beach resort that offers massages. I really wanted a normal body massage but the masseuse insisted on a reflexology massage which I would describe as a fancy foot massage. It was still pretty nice though.
The next day at breakfast I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do so when Jada mentioned she was going to a spa in Takoradi and would prefer company, I decided to join her as did Marlene and Jessie. We took a trotro from Cape Coast to Takoradi and went to the beach while Jada went to the spa. A couple hours later, we met up with Jada at Planter’s Lodge to get cupcakes at the bakery at this hotel. They didn’t have any cupcakes 🙁 BUT they had apple pie. We almost made the executive decision to stay at the hotel but none of us really had enough money to stay there. But if I ever come back to Ghana, I’m definitely staying there.

This weekend we had free time to do whatever we wanted. I decided to take a solo trip to Nzulezu, which is in the Western Region of Ghana. The village is famous because it dates back to the 15th century and the entire community lives in houses that are on stilts in the middle of a river.

On Friday morning I left the house and grabbed a tro-tro headed to Takoradi, the fourth largest city in Ghana, since it was in the direction of my final destination. After arriving in Takoradi I walked around town for a bit and eventually found a tro-tro headed to Nzulezu. I waited for the van to fill up so that we could depart and made friends with a few other passengers. Finally, we headed toward our destination and had a view of the ocean the entire way. A friend I made on the tro-tro told me when to get down once we arrived in Nzulezu and pointed me to the tourism office that would guide me to the actual village.
My tour guide, John, was a boy who had graduated JHS (Junior High School) and was saving money to go to SHS (Senior High School). First, we paddled down a canal that feeds into the larger river that Nzulezu is on top of. He told me that in the dry season, you can walk or drive to the mouth of the river but in the rainy season, you have to paddle and that all the residents of Nzulezu have their own canoes to use for travel. John also explained that a lot of wildlife used to live around the canal but the motorboats that people have begun to use have scared off most of the animals. We could see the stilt structures from afar and arrived after paddling for about 30 minutes as well as a couple of houses. Once we tied the boat down, I got to walk around and saw peoples’ houses, a small guest house, a couple of community areas and a primary school that children living there attend. Around 500 people live in Nzulezu and most are fishers while a few community members farm the land on the other side of the riverbank. I talked to many of the residents for a while and bought a couple souvenirs.
While I wanted to stay in the area for the night, I realized that I was almost out of cash so I made my way back to Cape Coast. After a long drive in a shared car and tagging along on a mega-bus that was headed to Accra, I finally reached Cape Coast and met with everyone at the guest house.