New year, new blog (in name, at least)

Ghanaians are incredibly hospitable. Enter into any home and you'll be “invited,” or asked to take part in a meal. Even when not intended to be taken literally, it's a thoughtful gesture to welcome visitors.

Ghanaians are equally considerate of visitors in another regard – their transportation signs. I don't refer to signs by the side of the road, but rather the phrases printed on the actual vehicles themselves. The mottoes stamped on the back of taxis, trucks, and tro-tros are clearly meant to alleviate travelers’ confusion and address visitors' vexing and urgent questions. “Travel and See,” for example, answers such vital questions as “Will we get there in time?” “Does this bus actually go to Accra?” “Will the bottom fall off mid-trip?” and “Will I arrive in one piece?” More resignedly, but no less optimistic, is “Still, we travel,” which encompasses the ethos of travel in Ghana like no guidebook can. Other signs are more proclamations or warnings than answers: “Observers are worried” thoughtfully reminds anyone standing close enough to a certain blue truck that its heavy load of yams is poorly secured and its steering capacity probably suspect. (Alas, I did not take a picture of that particular vehicle, or you can be sure it would have been the header for my blog by now.)

These mottoes provide the added benefit of absorbing bored or restless travelers’ attention while waiting for a car, which may stretch for several hours, as they ponder the philosophical meaning of the often opaque phrases. After significant time spent waiting in lorry parks and jostled on rickety buses in the past month, traversing remote areas to interview returned migrants and their family members, I think I’ve cracked the code.

As I’ve interviewed people around Ghana, I’m struck by how often people cite their desire to “travel and see” what others talked about as a key factor in their decision to leave the country. Migrants’ family members, for example, want to know if the stories they’ve heard from their relatives about snow, skyscrapers, and salaries are as exciting in person as in emails, and irregular migrants say they want to “travel and see” for themselves whether it’s difficult to find a job as a low-skilled worker in Europe, despite warnings from friends that it is. But it’s more than an urge to confirm what others have told you – it’s the desire to explore and learn, to broaden your experiences in a way only a journey outside your familiar domain can. Rather than just a motto on the back of a tro-tro – fitting as that placement is – “travel and see” is shorthand for a universally shared curiosity about people, places, and ideas beyond your own experience, with the implication that encountering those differences enriches you.

The phrase extends well enough into the popular imagination to inspire youth literature; I found this book in the supermarket the other day on the “school fiction” shelf, sharing space with “Kwame goes to the market” and “Basic Design and Technology for Form Three.” (Although I initially couldn’t justify spending GH 5 on it, the cashier at the market accidentally overcharged me and told me to take GH 5 worth of store credit, since he couldn’t change the receipt, so I got a copy guilt-free.)



The book is about two boys’ first family vacations, one to the town of Cape Coast and one to the town of Wa in the Upper West region. Awed by finally seeing everything they’d read about in school, from the Cape Coast castle to the animals (hippos!) along their trip, they write all their observations down, the better to regale their friends with stories. They return from their trips with appetites whetted for more travel – budding young migrants, perhaps?

After what feels like constant trips between different Ghanaian cities, I’m no longer quite as excited as the two boys in the book for long drives. I share their curiosity, however; the desire both to explore and to confirm what others have said about migrants' motivations drives me to trek around on the back of motorbikes and pleasantly harass unsuspecting friends of my host families for interviews.

And so the new year brings a new blog title. Not that the old one was bad – thanks Meagan! – but I find this one so suitable for my project and my experiences that I must rename it. I hope a new title will invigorate my lethargic posting – one of my New Year’s resolutions was to update my blog more frequently. I intended to post this entry on Jan. 2nd, however, so you can see already how successful I’ve been at keeping it. Hey, I'm just setting the bar low to measure my progress over the year...