The Elemental Difference

Fire is everywhere in Ghana-- in the cooking coals of compounds, the burning rubbish heaps of communities, the tailpipes of motorbikes and the hand-cranked stoves of village blacksmiths, the spent maize fields after harvest. It is in the hands of women, moving red-hot charcoal with bare, careworn fingertips to heat the evening meal. It is in the hearts of everyone, in their sparkplug-lit arguments exploding on the smallest light, and in the warmth of their love for each other when they laugh, smile, greet each other, sing; in the explosion of excitement in their children when something new arrives in town. It is in their festivals, red light reflected off dancing bodies, and in the eyes of sacrificial fowls and goats under the glint of the cutlass. It is in my face and shoulders, white skin freckling and bronzing under the cheerily merciless sun.

Ghanaians are fire-borne people, shaped like the Guinea Savannah under the hot breath of the Sahara Harmattan winds since time immemorial. I, a February child from a land of ice, am starting slowly to melt and trickle, trying to flow like their flames dance. I may emulate, but I am what I am; an ice woman would have to evaporate to become someone of fire.

I'm beginning to believe that owning this process, this placement, depends upon owning your differences. As a volunteer, the reason you have come here is that you are not the same; the idea is that that from your differences there is something to contribute, and that you can return to where you come from with a new difference that will help people further. I'm slowly, slowly beginning to realize how deep the differences are—and in turn, how simple it is to bridge them and live together. It is never easy, but very straightforward. Never easy, but so important.