
| On a more personal note, a New Yorker's take on life in Ghana's capital: There I'd be, walking down the street in Accra, using all my powers of concentration to traverse the surprise-filled city terrain, when a woman will suddenly pass by me and proceed to maneuver her way effortlessly through throngs of pedestrians and taxis while carrying a three-tiered, 50-pound set of metal buckets on her head, filled to the brim with dishes, and a baby strapped to her back sleeping happily behind her. There is an unspoken connection running beneath the seemingly chaotic bustle along the city streets here. On first look, this link is indiscernible. But if you really watch, you can see that everyone, from the small girls selling water on the roadside to the businessmen in their power suits, has an unconscious, or maybe super-conscious, ease about them as they wind their way safely around each other. For me, coming from a place where, even on a relatively empty sidewalk, you may still play the get-out-of-my way shuffle with the person walking straight towards you, it is amazing to see that people here have this collective instinct within them; this instinct that guides them through and around a crowd of people whom they don’t see as strangers, but simply as people they have not yet met. Ultimately, it is this link, this bond, this connection, so often missing in Western societies, that attracts me most to Ghana. During my time there, I felt that I got in touch with a part of me that had disappeared, the part of me that is also a part of everyone else, the part of me that I had lost track of in a society where we all view each other as wholly separate beings, willfully independent of one another. In walking down the street, in family life, in friendship, at work, and in art, you will find this connectedness here, and whether you’re looking for it or not, when you come, it will surely find you. |

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