I think that, in this moment, witnessing the rush of the Atlantic’s powerful waves crashing against the shores of Kokrobitey, it finally resonated with me that I was actually here. I was in Ghana.
Sure, the pilot’s voice over the intercom after landing and the Awkaaba welcome sign at the airport logistically told me that I was in Ghana, but it wasn’t till this moment, 3 weeks after our arrival, that I truly felt with every bone in my body and every fiber of my being that I’m in Ghana… that I’m in West Africa… that across this body of water are the metropolises of Boston, Washington, and New York… and that this experience I’m about to have is real.
It was an incredible feeling being on the other side of the Atlantic and looking out into its vastness. Though I’ve done it before from China looking across the Pacific to the West Coast, it just didn’t evoke the same visceral reaction. Perhaps it’s because Ghana wasn’t a place I ever expected myself to be and this part of the world… wasn’t a place that I thought I would ever experience first hand. Essentially, it was a mystery for me.
But letting my imagination free, the roughly 5000 miles of Atlantic separating me from the US quickly closed into a mere few hundred meters, enough for me to visualize the outline of the Boston skyline in the distance. I thought to myself, “wow, the world’s really not that big.”