WEEK 1-- AKWAABA to Ghana

INTRODUCTION

Far across the Atlantic Ocean—beyond the sandy shore line of Ghana, West Africa is a culture deeply ingrained but not limited by its red, gold and green insignia. Indeed, these colors characterize culture and tradition tainted by a bloody history but even so, the people of Ghana find pride and possession in their Gold Coast.

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WEEK 1-- AKWAABA to Ghana

Upon reflection, it has been over five years since I have been to Ghana and prior to that experience eleven years. For this reason, my trip to Ghana with my older sister Lorraine Adjoa Quansah, 22, and my younger sister Vennessa Ama Quansah, 19, was evermore exciting.

Our journey began on June 8th, 2011 at John F. Kennedy airport when we boarded Delta Airways for a direct flight to Accra—the capital of Ghana. A ten hour plane ride never seemed appealing...well that is until my mother told us we were flying first class. My sisters and I looked at each other and said, “Ghana here we come!” (If you are going to go to Ghana after such a long time you might as well go correct.)

Once in Accra we continued through registration, security, baggage claim and then we were finally greeted by my Aunty Sarah, our assigned guardian for the duration of the summer. After hugs and kisses were exchanged her personal driver loaded the truck with our luggage's and we were off.

Before I continue, the city of Accra, Ghana is comprised of many towns. Aunty Sarah lives in Mataheko, Accra--a neighboring town of Kaneshie, Accra (Kaneshie is used to direct people to Mataheko but “location & traveling” is a topic I’m saving for a later article). If it makes it easier, Accra is to Newark, New Jersey as Mataheko is to the ironbound section.

The trip to Aunty Sarah’s house from the airport was long enough for me to soak in the reality that “I, Wendy Ekua Quansah (as Wendiana Jones) will be living in Ghana for the next three months.” And while the initial aroma of Ghana jogged memories from my previous visits, I’ve realized I will never get use to the smoke (though you would think its second nature since I reside in north Jersey).
When we reached our new home we quickly unpacked our luggage's in Derrick’s room. Derrick is my Aunty Sarah’s eldest son. For the remainder of the day we reflected on our flight and discussed possible plans for the following day.


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The first item on our agenda was braiding our hair. This meant we had to wake up at 5:00AM (remember it’s three of us girls getting dressed including myself) so that we could be out of the house by 6:00AM. Many people say New York City is a place that never goes to sleep, but I bet the city of Accra can contest.

In any event, we woke up and were ready by 6:30AM to beat early morning traffic (Between you and I, I feel like my Aunty Sarah is always trying to beat traffic. I have come to the conclusion in less than three days that this area is just a traffic congested place).

When we finally reached our destination my sisters and I were one of the first customers to arrive. The salon was a medium sized place with one full wall covering the back end. The other three walls or lack thereof were lined with plastic chairs where customers patiently waited to be called.

In the beginning I could count the amount of stylist braiding (identified by their white shirts) but within the same hour over thirty stylists arrived and began braiding hair. By the time I finished my braids (Senegalese twists) there were four stylists tugging my hair in different directions in an attempt to finish quickly (though this was the fastest technique it was also the most painful). They finished my hair in six hours and it only cost me thirty five cedis. I emphasize only because translated into dollars thirty-five cedis is about fifteen dollars whereby if the braiding was done in America it would have cost at minimum two-hundred dollars.

With our hair freshly braided my sisters and I were ready to hit town in the evening. After a midday nap and our dresses nicely pressed my sisters and I accompanied a close relative to a birthday dinner at a restaurant called Venus in Osu—a tourist section of Accra. After Venus we drove two blocks down to the hottest lounge/club in Osu called Bellaroma.

At Bellaroma we saw and mingled with people from different countries. We partied until 4:00AM. Matter of fact, when my sisters and I were ready to head home around 1:00AM we unexpectedly bumped into our cousins (I am talking about blood cousins as in our parents are siblings and/or cousins themselves—not play cousins). In the end, our time at Bellaroma became a huge family reunion. And thus begins our stay here in Ghana, West Africa.