Predeparture

From January 5 to 17, 2011, I traveled to Ghana with NYU’s Alternative Breaks program to perform HIV/AIDS outreach and education in schools and communities. The trip was good but not great: many things frustrated me, but I learned a lot about myself and about foreign culture. In the end, though, the journey inspired me to travel more. What follows is a transcription of my daily Moleskine journal.

Wednesday, January 5

Ghana departure: 9 hours

I’ve landed the prime seat in Prince Street Cafe & Catering, on a white wicker two-seater bench with super-squashy cushions. It faces the front window, so I can see the traffic go, and there’s a space heater to my left, to make the temperature bearable.

We leave for Ghana in 9 hours, give or take. I’m sharing a cab with Drew, an underclassman who works out a lot. He’s decided we should meet at noon to arrive at JFK by 1:30, which I think is a bit excessive, even given the difficulty of grabbing a cab on my building’s corner. My bags are packed, though I can’t shake the feeling I’ll forget something important.

The granola I ordered is sweet, the green tea potent.

It’s hitting me now that we’re leaving, but the concept of traveling across an ocean is still foreign to me. Maybe because this is the first time I’ve traveled because I wanted to, it feels different. I’m excited to get to know my group of 12 companions, excited to learn their names- Nansi, Ashley, Drew, Morgan, Liv, Carrie, Yvonne, Amira, Ellen, Ava, Lilly.

If the restaurant management is trying to lower my blood pressure by way of faulty salt shakers, their plot is working.

I promised myself I’d get back to Africa, since I bungled the first time. I was young, I was scared and I had preconceived notions of what I’d find. This trip is a vindication of that, I hope, and if it goes well, maybe a harbinger of more trips in the future. I’m scared that I’ll be the grouch of the group, the serious one that’s scared of making new friends and scared to get to know the local culture. I can’t stress enough the enormity of taking a trip without my family- barring a summer in Paris, that’s the only way I’ve seen the world. It’s time for me to explore on my own.

There are lots of parts of this trip I haven’t envisioned yet. I can see all 12 of us standing in a field, trying to talk to locals but I can’t see us on a canopy walk, eating meals (especially dinner), buying things. I have no idea what to expect. I haven’t finished the Ghana guidebook, which is unlike me, but I’ll read it on the plane (along with Jonathan Franzen and Sloane Crosley).

I wish I could bring my phone with me, for my parents’ sake. I’d like to text them when I take off.

I can’t believe this is happening.