Akwaaba

As I got off the plane, I was hit with an immense heat. I took a deep breath, taking in the scent of my surroundings. Jamaica has a specific scent which to me signals to me that I have arrived home. The scent I was smelling when I came off the plane was distinct and unfamiliar to me (I do not mean a foul scent). This is Ghana.

I was out of the airport quite quickly with little hassle and when I exited the airport, I searched for an SIT personel. What struck me was how familiar yet unfamiliar my surroundings were. the layout outside of the airport was extremely similar to Sangster International Airport in Montego Bay, Jamaica, with the bank to my left and food places to the right, almost in the exact positioning; however, in front of me were people in white plastic chairs (as opposed to benches or standing) dressed in a mix of casual clothing and African textiles. Beyond was a car park set up differently from Sangster. It seemed slightly surreal. I finally found an SIT personnel and we had the following exchange:

“So you must be Asha”

“Yes I am, nice to meet you”

“I am Papa Attah. Akwaaba. Do you know what that means?”

“Yes, it means welcome”

Honestly, I did not know this because I was brushing up on Twi before coming, but rather from a Ghanaian song that was popular in 2018.

When leaving the airport in a taxi, we exited into a round about, again similar to Jamaica; however, instead of being met with a Montego Bay sign, I was met with a mural saying “We Dey Accra” (We are in Accra) followed by a tunnel covered in Ghanaian flags as if to remind me of where I was. While driving, Papa Attah asked if my name was Muslim (which I have been asked before) and told I explained that my name (or at least where y mother had originally gotten it) was of Indian descent and I am not Muslim. He had explained to me that usually when Ghanaians hear the name Asha, they think of a Muslim person and the person he knows with the name Asha (or similar) was a non-practicing Muslim from Senegal. I explained that I was actually of Jamaican descent and he began telling me about Rita Marley’s house in Accra, which I have heard about. I also found it funny that upon my mention of Jamaican decent, the driver changed the country music CD he was playing to a reggae CD.

As I continued throughout the day, I had similar surreal experiences to my experience at the airport. On the drive to the hotel, I saw many places that looked like a scene from a main road in rural Jamaica, known as country, yet there were aspects that made the landscapes distinctly different such as big houses with walls around them, the type of food and goods being sold at the side of the road, the type of plants around, etc. Additionally, where I went for lunch, we were outside in a pretty casual place, similar too what I would see in various African movies that I would watch but I could hear reggae classics playing from down the road, similar to outside restaurants in Jamaica which might have a bar or shop down the road. In no way am I saying that Ghana is exactly like Jamaica; however, the similarities I see has helped me to process things and become more comfortable in my new environment. I am excited for what the rest of m experience will be like.