It's my last day in Africa. Tonight I will have seven hours to reflect on my journey here in Ghana as the plane takes me to London, UK and deposits me back into a world that resembles home. Sure, they drive on the wrong side of the street. And they have thick accents. But there will be similarities that will be both welcome and obvious. Hot water. Recognizable food. Brisk, cold air. A taste of home before I get home.
This morning we spent some time with CUA, the apex credit union agency in Ghana, giving presentations of what we observed and recommended to help the credit union movement survive and hopefully thrive. There are many things that these credit unions are doing right, like helping the communities that they are located in through support of small business. I am sure that I have learned as much from them about credit union values and co-operative principles as I hope they have learned from us. It makes me burst with pride to say that I belong to this worldwide movement, and that in some way I have made it hopefully a little bit stronger.
Team Ghana has been absolutely wonderful. I feel like I have made many lifelong friends through our shared trials these past couple of weeks. It's fitting that our little group of coaches put on the credit union cloth outfits (that CUA so graciously gave us) and had some photos done of the whole team. I sure will miss these people :(
I'm especially going to miss my partner, Nancy. We've kept each other sane through BBBW (bugs, bats, baboons and watermelons) and I don't know what I would have done without her!
One last walk through the dirt streets of Kasoa before we get taken to the Paloma then on to the airport. One last look at the lives of the residents, they are busy this morning doing what they do every morning: getting water from the well, building fires for cooking, setting up their stalls for the day. I am hoping I can come back here next year, it will be comforting to know the area and to have a basic understanding of their lives. We walk by some children in the street, one more time we hear "Obruni! Obruni!" I have to go home now, back to where my name is Debbie and my skin doesn't strike fear into toddlers and make babies cry. Maybe just one more time.....
Nope, she is feeling safe with her sister so she's not going to cry. Good thing, I really don't relish being the bad guy. I've got a plane to catch now. And some reflecting to do. Maybe one more blog if there's something to offer my friends and family from London. It won't be anything compared to the last two weeks, but maybe there will be a story there too.
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