We arrived in Ghana during the last days of the Hamatan season when winds blow from the Sahara carrying sand and tainting the atmosphere with a translucent veil of fine dust. “It looks as if we were in another planet”, Shoshana expressed as we were standing by the ocean staring directly at a white moon-like sun. It is hard to summarize one’s experience in a new place as it involves so many layers of emotions and thoughts. It is also hard as we bring a preconception of the place or we naturally try to compare it to what we know, to the place we come from. “The most surprising thing,” Sean pointed out, “is that at the end of the day you find out that we are basically the same.” And so it is. In Ghana family and community ties are important, young girls fall in love and are afraid of getting pregnant, children love to have their pictures taken and there is a football field every two kilometers. In Tekradi people gather at the local market to sell their products, women carry buckets and trays over their heads with smoked fish, fufu, tomatoes, plantain, shampoo, shoes and fresh vegetables to sell. In Ghana, as everywhere else, people enjoy laying under the shade of a big tree on a warm and humid day, women make a special effort to look attractive, people like sharing stories and a week of intensive work is rewarded with a cold beer and dancing Nigerian hip-hop. “Guinness is much better in Ghana than in the UK,” Kwesi mentioned while driving us around Accra, “when I lived there, we use to look for Ghanaian or Nigerian imported Guinness even when it was very hard to find.” Sometimes is in the small things that you find the greatest differences.

"Somewhere around here is where Antoine de Saint-Exupéry must have crashed his plane," I told Shoshana as we were flying between the Algerian and Mali border. I almost cried when I saw the Saharan dunes from the plane, and landing in Africa for the first time gave me emotional chills. I'm now laying in bed at the hotel in Accra watching CNN and jet-lagged as hell, wondering what new experiences tomorrow will bring. I never imagined myself traveling this far, but I always pictured myself collecting stories; life stories. "Aren't you acting a little bit paranoid?" Victor suggested after I asked if I could wash my teeth with the water from the sink. "Probably it's because of the malaria pills," I suggested as I scanned the room for mosquitos.

My eyes are closing.

The second day of the year Victor and I sat in silence at the porch overlooking the lake. We listened to French folk songs, ate carne asada with frijoles rancheros, and drank a bottle of champagne while observing cranes bath by the lake shore with our binoculars.

A comforting way to start a new year, before the craziness of deadlines and daily life takes over.