Hi everyone, so from my last post…I landed safely in Accra and as I begun to walk through the corridor from the plane to touch Ghana soil the layer’s started to come off! Great relief in one sense but then anxiety starts to kick in.
I am not a big fan of Ghana’s airport so I’m always in a hurry to get out, but if you know Ghana you will feel me on this when I tell you that there is no such thing as doing things in a hurry at Kotoka International airport!
It’s usually hot and sweaty to get through immigration and I am at my happiest once that process is over. When you successfully pass checks without some kind of officer wanting to see what kind of passport your holding or what goodies you have in your bag your are blessed.
Next is collecting your bags, which is the interesting part. This part of the journey can have you in tears if you are a little vulnerable. Goodness me, the chaos can be unbearable. The space in which to collect your bags is so small that it literally feels like a cattle market, no word of exaggeration. You will have people ramming their trolleys into you, bags are bashing you on the way to their owners corner, people are shouting angrily because their bags haven’t arrived or someone pushed them. This is not what you want to experience after a long flight. Any ho, I hear Kotoka has recently had a face lift so I’m sure my next departure will be a pleasant one and I can report back.
You will be happy to know that I got all my bags and nobody’s legs were broken in the process!
So, for the following two weeks in Ghana I didn’t go out, I hardly knew anyone who could take me out to see the sights.
I think the fear of not speaking the language, having heard stories of all sorts of things happening to people when they travel abroad cast a dark cloud over me. It was a little scary, I’m not a young girl by any means but I felt like an inexperienced young girl in a strange country I called home.
All of this contributed to my fears and what made it worse for me, I lived a little further out of town using this taxi and that taxi was just long for me. Traveling around Ghana was not pleasant especially when I learnt about the trotro’s (mini buses which is their mode of public transport besides taxis).
I then remembered that I was on a mission and I wasn’t about to let fear get the better of me. So after two solid weeks I psyched myself up and started going out. Walking around the block was enough so that I could familiarise myself with my surroundings. Slowly by surely I started going further out, going to the mall and meeting a few familiar faces.
I remember saying to myself well Bertha, you are here now and have 3 months to make your moves. However I didn’t have a clue where to start or what I even wanted to do. So many people promised this and that while I was in the UK but nothing materialised once I physically got to Ghana. Up until now I haven’t even heard from those individuals who were supposedly friends.
I must say that the experience helped me to get a feel of how life would be for me. I ventured to places, visited a few offices and sent out my CV etc, however I didn’t get anywhere. Despite the fact that I didn’t land a job straight away, I made contacts and solid people who had the potential to help me move forward. This was good, it felt great even thought I had unmet expectations. I continued to trust that something had begun and it was only a matter of time before I would see the manifestation of my efforts.
I even made a few friends at the beach thanks to social media groups. Before I knew it, it was time to return to the UK and I didn’t want to go back but I knew I would return, so I begun to plan for my next trip and what I would do to get me back to Ghana.
Take care until the next time…
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