Oboruni

Oboruni. White person. Essentially, someone who sticks out like a sore thumb here. The object of many men's eye. A stranger. Me.

And that is exactly how I feel. Strange.

I have never lived abroad before. The most time I've spent in foreign countries was two weeks in Russia. Not that big.

This however, this is big. I've had no practice for this. I was just thrown into the ring to battle with conflicting emotions, new and exciting food and people, but most importantly, just the whole experience of living in a developing country. Which is exactly what Ghana is.
Ghana is not developed, but it is certainly in the process of it. There is poverty knocking at the door of the richest man in Ghana, who lives on my street. When a girl sees me talking on my cell phone while walking down the road, she extends her arm, begging for money, telling me she's hungry. Men and women do acrobatics on the beach and eat and regurgitate glass to try and amuse the wealthier folk who can actually enjoy a day relaxing on the beach.

Most families don't have running water, and if they do, it trickles. My shower each day consists of running a shower head over my body countless amounts of time to try and wash the dirt and grime that I've collected throughout the day walking to and from the university and other various places in the city of Accra. I don't think I will actually be fully clean until December when I come home and vigorously scrub all the dirt of my body with a horsehair brush.

Despite all of these weird adjustments that will take a while to fully make, I am just getting through this one day at a time. Each day is new and exciting. The learning curve is huge and I can't even fathom the type of person I will be come December.