The first beach I saw was not in Ghana, where I’ve lived for almost two months, but during my trip to Senegal where I did the interpersonal skills workshop for missionaries. But my buds in Ghana saw my long face and knew they needed to get this Florida boy to the beach.
Man, were we a sight to see. Two dogs, a Boxer and an Australian Ridgeback. Three Ghanaians. And four Obrunis (the Twi term for a white person). All traipsing down Labadi Beach as a storm rolled in.
Everyone loved the beach and I realized, like I needed to be reminded, that I miss the ocean and the water licking the sand time after time. I miss the palms trees flapping in the salty breeze hitting itself as if to say, “Move faster, you’re not creating enough wind.” I miss the sound.
After everyone else left to go home, we stayed and went to a local hotel where we could watch the Atlantic Ocean, or the Gulf of Guinea. I could have sat there for days. There is something about the water that mollifies my soul and calms my anxieties. We have a vacation coming up in a week where we get to stay on the beach, Anomabo This should be a fun and peaceful continuance to what started a few days ago.