Happy Halloween!

India

Desmond Tutu

Special Guest...

Saying goodbye to South Africa was a sad moment but exciting at the same time. We had an incentive to get back on the ship early. We had a VERY special guest speaker that night before we set sail: Nobel Peace Prize winner and Semester at Sea Alumni (he and his wife have sailed on two SAS voyages) Archbishop Desmond Tutu! He walked into the Union to a standing ovation. He provoked laughter as he mentioned that being back on the ship (“not boat” hahaha !inside SAS joke) the M/V Explorer felt  “weird” like “being back home. And you come home and see all these strange people and think…what are you all doing here!? ” Archbishop Tutu is a charismatic man with a contagious laugh and most importantly a contagious heart. He spoke to us for 1/2 an hour and left us with this message: “Go for it. Be as idealistic as you ever can be. Dream that this world CAN actually be a better world. Dream that this world can be one where we are going to say IT IS a total nonsense IT IS actually a sacrilege that we can spend so much on instruments of death and destruction when we could be using it investing it in making this a better world. And so I say go on dream it. Dream. Dream God’s dream. Be as idealistic as you ever could be. Go for it. Go for it. God has no one except you….Didn’t I tell you? You are Aaaawesome!”

On top of the world!

South Africa

Friday September 23, 2011. The day I had been longing for since I got on the ship. At 6:00am I headed up to the 7th deck observatory to witness the sunrise as we approached Cape Town. The sun peaked over the mountains on the port side of the ship and directly ahead Table Mountain was illuminated, the Mother City below it. We had officially arrived to South Africa, the “Rainbow Nation.” How fitting that a rainbow was painted in the morning sky above us. It was a sign of the beautiful things to come. We pulled into port at the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront. This was much different than the previous two ports we called home. The V & A Waterfront is a luxurious westernized shopping and entertainment complex. Anything and everything we ever wanted or needed was out our fingertips. No taxis, no traveling involved. It was a blessing and a burden. A blessing because we had internet access everywhere, we could have lunch or go grocery shopping and walk right back on the ship but a burden because I feel it took away from getting to know locals in their environment like we had done in previous ports. Either way it was a fun and beautiful place to call home and it had the most breathtaking view. The port and its emerald water surrounded the ship. Seals played just below us as we ate breakfast on the deck. The waterfront was our neighborhood and in the background Table Mountain towered over all of it. I explored the waterfront on my first day before a scheduled FDP to the South African Parliament. The first thing that became evident was there was a fever going around…Springbok fever that is! The 2011 World Cup of Rugby was going on and the South African team, the Springboks had dominated their game 89-0 (or something ridiculous like that) the night before we got there. Everyone was wearing green and gold even our tour guide at parliament later that day was wearing his Springboks jersey to work. I had just watched the movie “Invictus” the night before so it didn’t take long before I caught the fever and bought some Springboks gear for myself. Plus it filled a large void in my life…I miss NFL Football! Aaah! LoL. That afternoon I had one of the most rewarding experiences of my trip so far.  I had and FDP to the office of the Commission for Gender Equality of South African Parliament. It was a very intimate and relaxed meeting between Advocate Kamraj Anirudhra, Attorney Swasthi Anirudrah and about 10 students including myself. They talked to us about the Republic of South Africa as a constitutional democracy, the make up of their parliament, and the role of the Commission for Gender Equality in parliament. It was interesting to find that a country that had been torn apart by Apartheid a little over 17 years ago has made so much more progress in terms of equality than the U.S. has in its history. For example the Civil Unions Act, which allows for legalized same sex marriage or the Childrens Act which gives same sex partners the right to legally adopt children both of which we are still fighting for and yet to see in the U.S. They are also responsible for overseeing and defending individuals on such matters under the Domestic Violence Act, Employment Equity Act, or Sexual Offences Act just to name a few. I was brought back to reality the next day when I discussed with my guide how happy and amazed I was with the laws on equality in South Africa. He reminded me that just because the laws exist it doesn’t mean people agree with or follow the laws. Sooo true. ::frown::  However, I would have to argue that having those laws in writing is one step further in the right direction than we will ever be in the U.S.
That evening I pondered everything I learned that day over Old Wobbly beer at Mitchell’s Pub at the V & A Waterfront. Cape Town was a place of indulgence for me, for all of us. A month of ship food will drive you insane. We all fulfilled our alcohol and sushi cravings that night. I called it an early night as I had organized a bike and wine tour in the Stellenbosch wine region for the following day. Plus it was too damn cold and windy that night to want to do anything! Ali, Lauren, and I along with 12 other SAS students woke up the next morning at the butt crack of dawn for the bike and wine tour. One of our tour guides, Luke, met us on Long Street where we left from and headed to the train station. After a 40 minute train ride we arrived in beautiful Stellenbosch. Across the tracks from us we could see the mountains and the lush green surroundings of the wine lands. South Africa was just entering into its spring and not only was the perfect weather a testament to this but the plethora of flowers blooming in every which way made it even more evident. We arrived at the Bikes ‘N Wines compound where another guy set us up with our bikes and helmets for the tour. I was hoping this guy was Quintin, the guy I had been e-mailing back and forth with for a little over a month organizing the tour. I hoped it was him not only to finally put a face to the emails but because as it turns out he was very easy and entertaining on the eyes. Just saying.  Anyway, back to the story. I walked over and introduced myself and indeed it was him. We were all getting ready to head out when he asks the group…”does anyone here not know how to ride a bike?” I thought it was a joke, I mean who would sign up for a BIKE and wine tour if they didn’t know how to ride a bike? Much to my surprise my Panamanian friend Sofia raised her hand. “Wait, what? Really?” Yup, true story. After a short tutorial from Quintin, Sofia learned how to ride a bike that day…on trails…across the wine lands...tipsy on wine and brandy. I’m still astonished by this. If I wasn’t there to witness this myself I would call “bull shit.” Sofia is my hero! We made our way to the Spier winery for our first wine tasting. I was ecstatic. When else other than tailgating at a Dolphin’s game would drinking alcohol at 9:30am be totally socially acceptable? Spier was by far my favorite of the tastings we went to. They had a cozy little outdoors porch covered by plants and vines above. We started off with my favorite the Methode Cap Classique (a South African sparkling wine made by the traditional Champagne method.) It was light and crisp and the perfect way to cool down from the early morning sun. We continued on with a couple more whites (all delicious by the way) before switching to reds. We started with a Pinotage which is exclusive to South Africa. Can’t say I met a wine I didn’t like while I was at Spier. I definitely plan on buying some from Total Wines when I get back to the U.S.! We are not allowed to bring alcohol on the ship and shipping it back home would have cost me about $250 U.S. dollars. Bummer. I will have to hold my cravings until December. I couldn’t have been more excited than for our next part of the tour…the cheetah sanctuary!!! I got to hang out, pet, and take pictures with  “Pedro” the cheetah. Ali, Lauren, and I were brought into his pen, but I was the only one who got to hang out with him because he decided to get up and roam around which meant we had to leave the area ASAP. We exited his pen and Ali and Lauren ended up hanging out with Pedro’s brother Phoenix who was a little less active. After the cheetah sanctuary we made our way to the Van Ryn Brandy distillery. It was quite the ride with beautiful scenery of mountains, rivers, and vineyards all along the way. Brandy is not my adult beverage of choice.  So I struggled a bit. However I did down the DELICIOUS fruit juice infused welcome cocktail like it was my job! We had 2 different vintages of brandy a 10 year and a 15 year. I will say I enjoyed them a lot more when I learned the proper way to drink them. But it still didn’t stop the burning on the way down. At this point I was starting to get a buzz. We had not eaten lunch yet and we had been biking and drinking all morning.  It was then that Quintin suggested we all head out to the next place for lunch. Buuut, I wasn’t allowed to leave without at least finishing one of the goblets of brandy because it was “unacceptable.” “Oh man, how am I going to do this?” I thought to myself. “I don’t know if I can do that” I said to everyone at our table. Well I tried and I did it, I gulped down the 15 year brandy. I could feel it burning the whole way down as I grew chest hairs and my voice deepened about 18 octaves. Wooo! I’m sure the look on my face said it all and the grin and evil look on Quintin’s face said the rest. I was tricked. Quintin, you are an evil man. Haha. I was definitely guilty of “biking under the influence” after that. We biked our way over to the final winery, Vredenheim.  Seeing Zebras and Ostriches on a farm on the way. Before the tasting we had lunch at their restaurant  “ Barrique Restaurant and Brewery.” Brewery being the key word here…so of course I had to try their beer! It was awesome and so was the pizza I had there. I could’ve gone for traditional South African food or Malay food but of course after a few drinks who doesn’t want pizza? It honestly was one of the best I had in a while. They did however take forever to bring mine out and they compensated me by sending over a glass of champagne! Trouble. Because my pizza took forever we were running short on time. We had to be gone in a few minutes to catch the last train back to Cape Town. So our last wine tasting turned into taking shots of wine. I was just taking a sip of the first wine when the next wine was already there ready for me. Good times. Lets just say I was a lot of fun on the train back home. Our bike and wine tour was by far one of the highlights of our trip to SA. Later that night the group met back up at Mitchell’s for dinner and more “tastings.” This time it was of “Springbok” shots and “African Toilets.” Later my friend joined us and introduced me to Savanna Dry, my new favorite apple cider. Sorry Strongbow! You just don’t compare anymore. It was a solid day/night but the one thing I will never forget was driving up to Table Mountain in the middle of the night with my friend. He turned off the car, the lights and introduced me to a whole new side of Cape Town. I could see hundreds of thousand of twinkling lights as the city lay silent beneath me. I still get goose bumps thinking about how awesome that was. A few hours later though I would be seeing the entire Western Cape from a whole new point; 9,000 ft in the air jumping out of a perfectly good plane. Yes I went sky diving in South Africa. The view from the plane was A-mazing. You could see Robben Island, hundreds of miles of white sand beaches, clear blue water and of course Table Mountain. I was the lucky chosen one (insert sarcasm here) to jump out first. My instructor sat me next to the door. So the entire ride up in this sardine can of a plane I was leaning against a clear rolling door. I don’t know how I kept my cool the entire time, but I did. That was until we reached 9,000 feet and they rolled up the door. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. I got strapped in and almost immediately my instructor gave me the command to hang my feet out of the airplane. I was telling my body to do one thing and my brain was telling it another. I couldn’t move. My roommate Ali says the fear on my face scared her…lol. Eventually my body listened to me and my feet made it over the side of the plane. I was numb at that point. I was afraid if I sat too far forward I would fall out of the plane before my guy was ready. My purple and neon green sneakers hung out side the plane like kites in the wind. Then I heard the words…”are you ready?” and within seconds, Rob, the instructor pulled my head back and jumped. It took about half a second for me to realize what was happening. And then THAT feeling hit me. It was the worst and best feeling I have ever felt all at the same time. If you’re lucky maybe someday you will watch the DVD of my jump and you can make fun of me like everyone else on the ship has done for giving a play-by-play commentary on the jump.  Anyway, once the parachute opened it was a smooth ride down. Rob let me steer and we did some spirals on the way down. Ali, Sara and I all had perfect landings. Sunday was all about pushing myself to the limits. Immediately after jumping we returned to the ship where Ali and I changed and headed out to hike Table Mountain. I knew the hike up the Platteklip Gorge Trail wasn’t going to be easy but I never imagined it would be as physically taxing as it was. It is honestly one of the most physically challenging things I’ve done in a long time, if not maybe ever. About 30 minutes in I thought I was about to have a heat stroke even though I had taken every precaution to protect myself. It was the hottest day we had on our 6-day stay. Not a cloud in the sky and as dry as could be. The afternoon sun was punishing. But Ali and I pushed on. About an hour into the vertical climb I hit and passed my wall. I was golden after that! We took a few breaks in between but I’m proud to say Ali and I made it to the top of Table Mountain in 2 hours and 5 minutes and just in time for sunset. The panoramic views from the top were worth every bit of pain I endured on the hike up. On one side the sun was setting and clouds were below us covering the beach town of Camps Bay. On the other side we had a clear view of the entire city of Cape Town and the coastline. We could make out the M/V Explorer as a dot somewhere in the waterfront area. That night Ali, Sara and I treated ourselves to a fancy dinner at Karibu at the V & A Waterfront. I had the most A-mazing Ostrich filet. Tastes like steak. I also tried a piece of Springbok shank. Not my fave but not terribly bad. The next day we had a girl’s getaway to Cape Point. It’s where the Atlantic Ocean and Indian Ocean meet. It was far from the ship so we hired a taxi driver for the day and split between Sara, Ali, Nikki, Lauren and I. Our cab driver was Waldeen, the coolest dude ever! I’m positive we changed his life. He will never be able to hear Katy Perry or Bruno Mars without thinking of us singing at the top of our lungs windows down and changing the lyrics to include his name in every song. What a lucky guy! Haha. He made our journey to Cape Point memorable. We stopped for pictures in Hout Bay and he even took us the Scarborough route to the park because I mentioned my friend Jason who I met back in the states owns a house there. On our way up to Scarborough Sara somehow spotted a whale breaching in the ocean next to us. Waldeen stopped and allowed us to whale watch for a while. We were like 2 yrs old seeing a puppy for the first time. Eventually we made it to Cape Point. Its one of the most picturesque places I’ve been to. The two oceans separated by mountains which were blooming with flowers in some places and a quaint light house in the middle. On the way back we stopped at Boulder’s Beach or as some like to call it “the penguin beach.” Yes, that’s right. We got to see Penguins up close and personal in their natural habitat. They are sooooo cute! Ok, enough of that. On the way back to the ship we of course serenaded Waldeen with his all time favorites, “Grenade” by Bruno Mars and “Firework “ by Katy Perry.  Unfortunately the following day was our last in the place we had all began to feel at home at. We saved the best meal for last. The best burgers ever at Royale Eatery (I think that was the full name of the place) on Long Street. My friend Andrew spent some time in South Africa last year during the world cup and suggested I go there while I was in town. He wasn’t joking. Best burgers, best shakes. We all still talk about that meal until this day. Thank you Andrew Eppes. You have changed our lives forever. Nothing will ever compare to my “Miss Piggy” ostrich burger. To make the meal even more memorable, guess who “randomly” showed up at the end of the meal to pick us up? That’s right, Waldeen!  We had one last Katy Perry session before saying our final goodbyes to Waldeen and to beautiful, amazing, exhilarating Cape Town.

Ghana-rhea

Get your sick minds out of the gutter. I'm not talking about an STD. This is the title of a real journal entry from my personal journal. It depicts my disparity during a week long bout with gastritis between Ghana and South Africa. I fell deathly ill my last day in Ghana because my malaria pills were destroying my stomach. In a 5 day period I was only able to keep down a couple of crackers and a few small sips of water. I lost about 7 pounds before arriving in Cape Town. Don't be alarmed, I've gained those Lbs and then some back between Cape Town and India! Haha.  Well, anyway enjoy!

Tuesday September 20, 2011.

Gastritis blows!

Malarone + spicy Ghanaian food= death in my stomach!

I've never been so happy that the toilet and the sink in my bathroom are so close together. I've also never been more miserable in my life.

After 5 days of no food, the carb infested ship's dinning room has become my b.f.f.
Dr. Phil put me on the B.R.A.T.T. diet: Bread, Rice, Applesauce, Toast, Tea.

After an involuntary 5 day fast the chicken burger with cheese from the 7th deck grill  and french fries are the best food EVER.

We finally hit rough seas. 3304= the worst cabin ever. Being at the bow of the sip is rough. It sounds like we are being bombed. I caught some sweet air while I was sleeping last night. New cabin soon? UVA I'm looking at you!

Remember, Malarone= death....I'd rather have Malaria!!!!

Ghana

AKWABA! “Welcome” to Ghana. We arrived in Tema, Ghana on Tuesday September 13, 2011. Like in Morocco we were berthed at a busy industrial port. The port of Tema is one of the busiest ports in West Africa. They provide imports to neighboring countries such as Cote D’ivoire, Burkina Faso and Togo.  We were greeted with great hospitality and appreciation in this country. Even now thinking of Ghana the one thing I remember the most is the warmth of the people and the smiling faces that waved to us everywhere we went. Shuttle buses were provided from the port of Tema to the capital city of Accra, which is about 19km away. Lauren and I hopped on to the first shuttle into town. Infrastructure in Ghana is not the greatest. The simple 19km drive from Tema to Accra can take well over an hour in the busy morning hours. Because of this and as an extension of their hospitality Ghanaian authorities insisted on escorting our shuttles to the city and any other fieldtrips taking place in their country. Police motorcades lead the way and parted traffic for us like the Red Sea. Military personnel blocked intersections and redirected traffic. It was crazy. We were like rock stars. Although it was flattering and a cool experience it was just plain weird. When traveling I like to blend in with the locals as much as possible. This was not helping the cause. During the drive to Accra we got our first taste of West Africa. Poverty like we had not seen in Morocco. We drove by the “districts” just outside the port. They were townships saturated with people living in shacks. These housed some of the workers from the port and surrounding areas.  The living conditions were shocking to some to say the least. We arrived in Accra just on the edge of the city of Osu. Before getting off of the bus the tour operator gave us some words of advise: “Not all smiling faces mean well. Not everyone who offers to be you friend is your friend.” As soon as we got off of the bus we were rushed by a group of young men trying to sell us anything from bracelets to artwork to drums. But their sales tactics were the complete opposite of the aggressive variety that I encountered in Morocco. In Ghana they ask your name and become your “friend” in a heartbeat. They give you the Ghanaian handshake (where they hold your hand and then snap with your finger tips at the end) and hugs all around. The guys with the bracelets ask you for your name and within a minute they have a bracelet made with your name on it. They offer it to you as a “gift.” Come on, we all know better. NOTHING in life is free. The tactic here is guilt. They “befriend” you and guilt you into buying things. Fatima didn’t fall for it. ;) After ditching the sales guys and the rest of the SAS crew I was a woman on a mission. My original plans in Ghana were to volunteer at an orphanage but unfortunately that opportunity fell through. After asking around on the ship I found out about an orphanage in the city of Osu. I found directions from locals who insisted Lauren and I take a taxi. We refused to and braved the African sun on a 30-minute walk through Osu to the orphanage. We observed locals on their regular Tuesday afternoon routine. Osu was a mixture of mostly middle class homes and some poorer areas. After asking around we eventually arrived at the orphanage where I would have the biggest disappointment of my life. No, it wasn’t because they would not let me in and play with the children. It was because of the events that would follow and the disturbing information I would later learn from a German student volunteering there. Upon arrival I was informed that I couldn’t visit with the children because I had not been “profiled.” That was totally understandable. However I had it on my heart to leave the school supplies I brought for the children. They had me fill out information in a logbook. I had to write my name and contact info and list what I was leaving. The women who “managed” the orphanage were miserable and did not seem at all thankful or pleased with the fact that I was donating supplies. Lauren pointed out that I was one of few people leaving supplies instead of money. On my way out we met a German student volunteering and working on a research project there. She took us on our first “tro tro” ride to a spot on Tawala beach for lunch. It was the best meal I had in Ghana! Grilled chicken with vegetable rice and freshly made pepper (hot sauce) that had my insides burning for the rest of the day…mmm. Over conversation I found out that this particular orphanage where we met was a governmental institution that was in danger of being closed down because of the crooked employees working there. The employees had been taking advantage of donations coming in and pocketing it for themselves. Mean while 8 children, 2 from the house in which our friend worked died because they were not provided BASIC medical attention they needed. Perhaps the money these government employees pocketed for themselves could have saved 8 lives. Unfortunately we witnessed the negative effects of globalization. It was obviously easy to find this particular orphanage because they were a government institution but it also made it easy for greedy people to take advantage of their popularity. There is no reason why 8 innocent children should’ve died. They took advantage of the fact that no one would ask questions since these children belonged to nobody. As a global citizen you are moved by your anger and concern for the remaining children. But at the same time dealing a with a governmental institution, especially one which is not your own government, makes you realize your limitations. Being aware of situations such as these are a blessing and a burden all at once. Perhaps being aware and passing the word around may eventually get something done. In the mean time you are left feeling helpless and incompetent. If Morocco was a place of growth and new strengths for me, Ghana most certainly was a place of revelation, contemplation and unanswered questions. This couldn’t have been truer then on the next day when I had a Faculty Directed Practica (FDP) with Semester at Sea for my Linguistics class to the slave castles and dungeons of Elmina and Cape Coast. In the US we all learn about slavery and the Middle Passage. Our country’s history is a testament to the horrific truth of slavery and human trafficking. But no textbook, movie, or documentary could ever convey accurately the conditions and disparity in which millions of African people who were forced into slavery lived in. Imagine sharing a cell with hundreds of people at one time. Now imagine having to use the bathroom and not having any way of telling the person chained to you that you need to move to relieve yourself because you don’t speak the same language. The language barriers slaves encountered weren’t solely between them and their European captors but also between them and fellow slaves. We must remember that these people came from different tribes from all over Africa. Some of them who would have never met or had any reason to communicate if it wasn’t for the fact that they were both forced into this unfortunate situation. They lived in the most deplorable inhumane conditions you could possibly imagine. Lines on the walls of the cells mark the height of which human feces would pile up to. The size of the cells and the way they were enclosed were enough to make anyone claustrophobic. As if that wasn’t startling enough our tour guide Alex further explained the monstrous things such as death chambers and rape that went on inside the castle. The same held true at our second tour at the Cape Coast Castle.
I found it ironic that at both of these places there were churches and all kinds of biblical verses engraved on signs around the properties. I don’t see how these people could call themselves Christians or even more importantly call themselves human for the atrocities they were a part of. The visit to the castles/dungeons was a powerful thing and it left me asking myself a lot of questions. I kept envisioning hundreds of people being herded like cows on to ships walking out of the “door of no return.” I was fortunate to make the symbolic walk back in through that door. But what about those who didn’t? Through out our tours we would find wreathes in different chambers of the dungeons. Our guide explained that these wreathes were left by African Americans, Afro-Caribbean and other people who traced their roots back to Africa. They left the wreathes as a sign of respect and condolence for their ancestors. For the first time it raised a question that I had never asked myself. Did my ancestors make that walk out of the “point of no return?” Growing up I was always intrigued by my Asian background, but I never questioned my Afro-Caribbean family history. My father’s mom after all was an Afro-Caribbean woman. This experience made me want to ask a billion questions about my background. The next day I found an internet café in Osu and I questioned my mom about it over Skype.  My mind was racing. I was thinking about my family history and our ties to Africa. Then my thoughts would shift to asking myself about humanity and how we were capable of doing such evil things such as slavery and pocketing money from an orphanage. Lots of questions. Little answers. My mood changed and I was brought back to earth as I spent the rest of the afternoon visiting with locals we had met the first day in Osu. First Lauren and I visited Miriam, she was a sweet loving young seamstress we met walking the streets of Osu on our way back from the orphanage. I stopped in to look at some of the clothes she was selling. Upon arriving at her kiosk on the side of the road she literally dropped everything she was doing and ran over to Lauren and hugged her. She had the warmest welcoming spirit. I knew from day one I would come back and buy one of her pieces. I bought a beautiful Kente skirt from her. I could’ve tried to bargain with her, but I didn’t. She deserved every cedi. We chatted and said our goodbyes, as I knew I wouldn’t be coming back to the city before leaving Ghana. Just as we were walking away we encountered another local woman we met on day one. Gertrude. Oh Gertrude was a character! Gertrude called us over and asked us what we had learned about her country so far. We sat outside the little shack where we first met her and talked for HOURS. She reprimanded us for not learning more about her country and more about the real issues plaguing her country and her people. She insisted we should’ve visited the courts and other governmental institutions; we should’ve met with a village chief and watched local women making fufu. We had no control over any of those except for the latter. Gertrude grabbed our hands and lead us down an alleyway where she asked a group of women if the fufu for the day was done. They led us to the elder woman of the house who was sweet enough to show us how she pounded and shaped the doughy root paste into fufu. It was one of the coolest experiences we had that day. The conversations got more interesting as the afternoon went on. Gertrude asked us questions about our lives. What was life like on the ship? What were we studying? What was life in the United States like? What religion did we follow? And the most important question of the day, what were marriage traditions like? She was astonished to find out that there were no lists or special requirements in order for a man to marry a woman. In Ghana, as she explained if a man is interested in marrying a woman the family of the men has to have dinner with the woman’s family. The woman is not allowed to be there. In the mean time if the families approve of the relationship, the woman’s family provides the man and his family with a list of things they must provide. This generally consists gold jewelry, 12 pairs of underwear, pots and pans, and in olden days a bottle of an alcoholic beverage made from distilled palm wine called “Akpeteshie.” Lauren and I were equally astonished to find out that they had this list. Taking notes, my future husband will have to abide by this Ghanaian tradition! ;). We continued chatting until the sun went down. We had to start heading back in to Accra for dinner and to try to catch the last shuttle back into the port. We invited Gertrude to have Chinese food with us for dinner and she even accompanied us to do some grocery shopping. She walked us back to Citizen Kofi, a Ghanaian club/lounge that had been lending its facilities to us as our meeting point and shuttle station. They were throwing a going away celebration for SAS that night. We said our goodbyes to Gertrude although she was ready to stay and party. Originally we had no intentions of staying at the celebration but the shuttle never showed and in waiting we met some new friends through some of the SAS staff. Their names were Charles and Jacob, or “Naro” his soccer nickname (Hi guys!!! I know you’re reading this!). They were local guys about our age who had befriended the ship’s photographer earlier in the day. We sat on the 4th floor balcony of this establishment over looking the city of Accra taking it in for the last time. We all got to know each other and Jacob shared with me that he played soccer for a Ghanaian soccer club and is working his way up to playing for the national team! (Go Jacob! You can do it!) He even invited us to come watch a game or practice, but we were leaving the next day. They asked about our experiences in Ghana. We ranted and raved about the amazing people we had met and the hospitality we received. We asked them if the locals hated us yet for all the police escorts and screwing up their traffic. We laughed about it among other things. I shared with the table my experience at the slave castles and dungeons and how powerful it had been for me. I then confessed to them how I questioned my African ancestry for the first time in my life due to the experience. Charles and Jacob both jokingly called me a “disappointed African.” It was a joke and we all laughed, but it really made me think…was I a disappointed African? Had I purposely shied away from those roots? More questions. Less answers. One thing that was for sure though was that everyone at the table agreed we had all enjoyed our time in Ghana so much we wanted to come back. We made a pact to come back within the next couple of years. Not just as tourists but to contribute to this growing country, this beautiful country full of resilient people that welcomed us with enthusiastic waves, the most beautiful smiling faces and sincere hearts. Medase Ghana! We will miss you!