Stories while traveling

In last Sunday's NY Times, there is a great story about traveling across the U.S. by train. I've always wanted to take a trip like the one the author relates, and someday I will. But, this morning, catching up on last weekend's reading material, I was struck by the simple connections that can be made perhaps only by travel: connections with some part of our inner selves and connections with that broader community of strangers that surrounds us day in and day out.

It reminded me of experiences I had during my time abroad in Ghana while in college. I dug out my journal from the trip (the only time in my life I've even been able to successfully keep one up), and started reading through some of the entries. Here's an excerpt from a neat one:

"4/16/99 - Wow! It's a pretty big day b/c I officially have 4 weeks left here. It's April 16th. I leave May 16th. So many mixed emotions on the subject. It come down to the fact that as I have cool discussions with Ghanaians on tro-tros, I wistfully look at the control tower of Kotoka Airport and whisper, 'Soon, Adam, soon.' An interesting dichotomy.

I've been tripping out recently over decisions I've had to make that go from big ones (when to go to the Shai Hills to take pictures) to very small ones (whether to have an egg sandwich for a late breakfast or red-red for an early lunch). It's my own fault b/c I've put myself in this position. Since I've planned my time so tightly, I'm dealing with the consequences of worrying if it will all work out...

...But now that I have this place to stay, maybe I'll extend my trip a bit. I get back to Accra on Wednesday morning (early) and planned on leaving immediately to Cape Coast. Maybe I should wait for a day or two to tie up some loose ends? I don't know if the will is there. I guess I don't care all that much if the leads could help the paper out b/c they would just be another in a long line of equally important, if not exactly relevant, experiences. Some of the highlights:

• I had a long conversation with a guy from out side Accra w/ relatives in New Jersey. He paid for my tro-tro fair (even though it turned out I had taken the wrong one).
• I was picked up by some random guy named Joseph driving his company's truck. He took me all of the way back to Accra after my ill-fated Shai Hills visit.
• The whole housing situation and friends made at Adjei Mensah
• I was able to be alone in Accra for a week, speaking Fante nearly the entire time, and comfortable moving around the city.

Not bad. I'm okay with a lower grade b/c of these experiences. I just don't want my desire to be back in Cape Coast (and my desire to be home) to dictate and undermine my ISP efforts. But, in the end, hey, who cares?"

Some explanations:

• I wrote this during my ISP -- Independent Study Project. Everyone on this study abroad program spent 4 weeks on their own in the last month of the program, somewhere in Ghana, doing research on a topic we had chosen. The resulting paper was our final product for the program.
• I had scheduled myself to be in 4 different areas of the country during my 4 week ISP, which created quite the schedule. What's more, I arrived in Accra without a good idea of where I was staying; somehow, I ended up crashing with the cousin (Latif) of a guy (Desmond) who had befriended a couple of women who were also on my program.
• Accra is the capital city of Ghana; Cape Coast is the former capital city, a very historical town, site of one of the few remaining slave castles along the coast of West Africa, and the base city for the program I was on.
• Tro-tros are the cheapest form of transportation in Ghana; they are bombed out minivans that act as communal taxis/buses, shuttling people around on set routes. I love tro-tros.
  
• The Shai Hills is a small nature park outside of Accra (30-45 minutes, I think). I had visited there previously with the group, but I wanted to get back there to take pictures as part of my research. From what I recall of the events I describe, I took the wrong tro-tro on my first attempt to get out there and then, on my second attempt of the same day, I got to the preserve to find it was closed. I was essentially stranded out there, until Joseph the truck driver stopped to pick up to lone white person on the side of the road.

What strikes me about travel is this: if you're open to "the experience," strangers become friends (even if for the duration of a tro-tro or train ride); you are reminded that everyone has a story to share, even you; the journey is truly often as important (or more) than the destination; and there is tremendous - almost inestimable value - in connecting with people/images/things beyond yourself (and your laptop, your iPod, your book, etc.).

In a world of clutter and of sound and of constant electronic connection, it's hard to hang onto these thoughts and stay "open." I think we all yearn for corners of solitude and grab them when we can (I never want to talk to people on planes). But, travel is one place where it's easier to swap stories than in the office or at a cocktail hour...and stories are some of the most vital currency we have to trade.

Now that you've suffered through my ramblings, here's my favorite photo from the Kesslers' most recent travel adventure -- skiing in Colorado:

Breckenridge, CO - Kate, about to drop into the Whale's Tail bowl. Adam, on the verge of passing out from vertigo, takes picture.