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My African Summer

The closest I had ever been to a foreign country was New York City. After approval from Bush School faculty and staff, as well as an extensive online search for a vessel to get me there, I hooked up with a non-governmental organization based in Ghana called Humanity World International.

Following my arrival, I was put on a bus and began a journey that would take me to what seemed the farthest corner of the world. Sixteen hours and no rest stops later, I was dropped off in the town of Walewale, sprawled out along the main road that runs from the lush, mountainous south, to the dry, flat north.

I took some time to settle in and shortly after began my volunteer work, which entailed teaching science to junior high students in a village called Gbimsi. Because the school was about a mile from where I lived, I purchased an old, red bicycle to get me there and back each day. With approximately 85 village children in my class, I not only taught basic science but also shared as much additional knowledge as I could. I will never forget telling the students about hamburgers and French fries, showing them American currency, or letting them feel my skin and hair. Their eyes would burn with inquisitiveness at every word I spoke.

Living in such a small, remote village was a challenging, but rewarding leap of faith. There were few other volunteers in the area, as many people supposedly disliked the idea of being so far from the comfort of toilets and showers. This situation put me in a particularly unique position, where I obtained something very close to celebrity status.

The people were fascinated by my presence and everywhere I went, small children would shout out, “Suminga (“white lady” in Mamprusi), how are you?”  Responding with a smile and a wave brought them immense joy, such that they would turn and dash away, leaving laughter in the air.  The ambiance of that place was serene and the people possessed an innocence that I had never encountered before.

My volunteer work turned into something more spectacular with every passing week. Just before I was to return home, the chief of Gbimsi crowned me “Queen Mother” of the village and gave me a native name that translates to “Golden Woman.”  I was the first person to serve their community and the people of Gbimsi appreciated my service so much that they bestowed upon me the greatest honor that they could. It was an incredible and humbling experience, being so special to so many people.

Now that I am back, I have only just begun to appreciate everything I endured. Other than being an educational and an all around good experience, the things I did and the people I met were unexpectedly unforgettable. For two months I drifted along in a world so fascinating that even my imagination failed to prepare me for the onslaught of sensations I experienced along the way. My time in Africa, away from a regimented life in the United States, cleared my mind and revived my soul.