Before I get too far into this post, I want to express that the trip was a GREAT one.  It was amazing to be able to get a new feel of what living in another country, a west African country at that, is like.  While the trip was short (we have a school aged son that can’t miss many days), it was enough to get a glimpse of the city of Accra, Ghana, and surrounding areas.

A lot of African Americans have this idea that we will feel more at home in an African country than we feel in America; that we will get off the plane and get a sort of homecoming experience.  Thankfully, I didn’t have that impression.  I wanted to take each experience for what it was, not with rose-colored glasses or lofty expectations that could be frazzled, leaving me disappointed.

In the end, I realized that that like any other country, the experience is multi-faceted: awe inspiring, painful, difficult to grasp, beautiful, (insert almost any adjective).  What was welcoming was also exclusionary.  The first realization is that everyone initially sees you as African American.  And America represents money.  But I’ll get to that later.

Let’s start with the lead in to the trip.  I booked flights through Ethiopian Air, and we found decently priced tickets.  The flight was to go from Bahrain, to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, to Accra, Ghana.  According to the website, I could check in 36-24 hours in advance of the flight.  When I got to the 36 hour window, I went online to check-in, but the site said my flight could not be found.  I refreshed the page, waited a few minutes, then tried again.  Whew.  Flight found, but it wouldn’t let me check in.  It said I still need to wait 12 more hours.  The next morning, I tried again and the first flight it allowed me to check in for was Ethiopia to Ghana. This seemed strange.  Upon checking the itinerary, the online site said that the flight from Bahrain to Ethiopia had been cancelled; however, no notice had been provided to me.  Urgently, I contacted Ethiopian Air and was able to rebook that leg, but had I not called, this trip could have started off vastly different.

The flight went well, but the seats were uncomfortable.  If I have my choice, my next flight will not be on that airline.  Upon arrival Wednesday, we were met by our driver, B (I’ll refrain from using his name, and you’ll see why later).  Based on the recommendation of others who have gone before us, we decided to use his services instead of using Uber to get around (yes, they have Uber).  Using a driver was one of the best decisions we made.  He knew the area, made good restaurant recommendations, was able to help negotiate prices, handled money exchange, and more.  Driver B took us to exchange money then to Labadi Beach for a brief visit.  At the beach, we were able to spare a moment to take in the reality that we were in west Africa, the region where many of our ancestors came from.  We touched the sand and waters, and took a moment for reflection.  Patrick said a brief prayer, and Lil Pat (smh) is gullible.  A guy asked him if he wanted to ride a horse, and of course he said yes.  What he didn’t realize, is nothing’s free.  We quickly told the guy to leave, and told Pat to stop stopping to talk to strangers without us.

Afterwards, we told our driver that we wanted to check in and wash up a bit then eat.  Initially, we had reservations at an international hotel chain near the airport, but after more research decided to rent a property closer into town.  We filtered properties through Airbnb, limiting our selections to those properties that had air conditioning and Wi-Fi, amongst other requirements.  We found a few but decided on a location in Osu, near the coast.  This would both provide us with a more central neighborhood (and more authentic feel), as well as save us some money.

Upon arrival, we were told that we were the first to rent that property, though the listing was with someone who had various other listings and high ratings.  She seemed knowledgeable and helpful.  As she was tidying up, she had to send someone out for batteries for us to operate the air conditioning units (we are used to this, as the same type units are used in Bahrain).  We then turned on the units so that the apartment could cool off.  We also had difficulty connecting to the Wi-Fi, so she was going to go back to her office to reset the account.  While the unit seemed unused and a little dusty, she had provided fresh bottled drinking water and a few amenities.  She left, and we waited in the apartment for her to reset the connection. When that didn’t work, she sent someone by to swap out the router.  He came, we got connected, and we were off to eat at a nearby restaurant, Mazera!

Mazera is a restaurant where you eat outside.  The facility was covered, had many tables and chairs, but wasn’t enclosed by four walls, intentionally so.  Imagine a restaurant with a patio, but no wall separated the restaurant portion from the patio portion.  Three walls, but also open.  A man walked around with a guitar playing Bob Marley hits, and we ordered Club beer, pineapple soda, and tilapia with Jollof.  The first thing to come out were the drinks.  I LOVE Club Beer!  It’s like a light beer, but slightly sweet.  The next thing to come out was two bowls of water, and a container with soap, napkins, salt, pepper, and paper towels.  In many countries outside of America, people traditionally eat without the use of utensils, but instead with their hands.  When around others who eat with their hands, we do the same.  When in Rome…  We used the buckets to wash and rinse our hands before eating.  Let me say, I have had plenty of fish, but that was the absolute best tilapia I’ve had IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!!!.  It was flaky, flavorful, the skin wasn’t crispy like fried, but was crisp from the grill.  It was served with a green pepper sauce (spicy), red pepper sauce (not spicy), and a black pepper sauce, and was topped with onions and peppers.  It was amazing and unfortunately, gone before I remembered to take a picture.  Check out this post for food pics from Mazera: Accra Craves – Lunch at Mazera. But I did get a picture of the beer!

After this we went back to the apartment to finally shower and take a break.  After watching television for a while, we decided it was time to get back out.  We did not come to sit in the apartment!  We called the driver and he took us to a bar to get a drink called ‘Amen’ which was basically a blue long island (or a Blue MF).  Pat and I stayed in the car while Patrick and the driver went up to get the drinks and bring them back to the car.  We went to a restaurant for dinner that was subpar, and then headed to Tawala beach.

Tawala Beach was peaceful.  It wasn’t crowded, you heard smooth reggae, the waves whipped in the background, and we met a few people.  As we had traveled all through the previous night with very little sleep on the plane, we tired pretty early.  Pat fell asleep in the chair on the beach.  He tried to hang, but his 10 year old body just couldn’t do it, lol.  We decide to head home and get some sleep.

We woke up the next day with plans to head to the Cape Coast to visit the slave castles.  Upon waking up, it was unreasonable hot.  The power was out!

To be continued…