Henry had told me a while ago that Accra was a very sketchy city. I now wholeheartedly agree with him. Everything here in Accra is slightly askew. If the cops find pot in your car, chances are you can get away with it by paying him 20,000 cedis (that's approximately $2, and you get to keep the weed). At the post office, you need to pay a fee for Customs to check your packages, but that fee fluctuates depending on how the employee is feeling that day. You're lucky if you hop on a tro-tro (the more cost efficient means of transportation) with door that properly closes. Trash is usually burning on the streets, and the only places where people do not pee are those that bear the warning sign: DO NOT URINATE HERE, FOOL!

Am I crazy to say that these are also some of the very things that make Accra so charming to me?

I love Accra (I say Accra instead of Ghana because I haven't really seen much of it yet). I love it because the people here are so friendly. Everyday is just filled with smiles, hellos, and goodbyes. Living in New York City my entire life (yes, all 20 years of it ha), I'm just not used to this kind of affection from strangers. I think about how I am going to expect people to smile at me on the streets of Manhattan and ask me how my day is going, and how disappointed I will be when no one actually does. I don't necessarily think it's a New Yorker thing either (you know, that "New Yorkers are mean" bullshit). I think people are just self-centered. Everything has to be about them, and if it's not then it is not important. Sometimes (and more often than not), it is not about you. The world does not stop when you do.

I think about how my Northface backpack costs enough to possibly put two children into high school, if not more. I think about how us NYU kids complain when there is no power or internet access, while the majority of this city doesn't either. I think about how high the illiteracy among children here is, and the unemployment even higher. I think about how those kids at Cape Coast wanted my beat-up Timbs so badly that they started untying my shoelaces.

I keep thinking about how happy these children were at Bola Beach playing with only a deflated volleyball. I can't seem to get that image out of my head.