Akwaaba is the twi, the language of the Asante kingdom, word for welcome. It was the very first word I learned here in Ghana. It is yelled at me by passer-byers while walking down the street and by an old woman who works a corn stand by our house. When we go to the field I shake hand after hand, always met with a large smile and a farmer saying, “Akwaaba, you are welcome.”
On our first field visit, I met a woman named Rose. She did not speak much English and my twi has yet to get past the level of a three-year-old making our conversation rudimentary at best. Even still Rose talked enthusiastically about her farm, about her family, and when she fell at a loss for words she just stared at me, held my hands and beamed. I beamed back at Rose but I couldn’t help my mid-Western tendencies alarm bells going off in my head wondering why a stranger so readily told me about her recently deceased husband and so willingly invited me to be privy to her life. When it was time to go Rose hugged me three different times, each time smiling wider and exclaiming unknown but seemingly positive things in twi. As I turned to go she invited me back to the village to attend her husband’s funeral. Unfortunately I had to refuse because the funeral is scheduled for after we leave but the gesture was clear. As I got in the car my coworkers all laughed and asked me if I had understood anything. While they joked, I reflected on the openness with which Rose received me, a complete stranger who walked into her community with a notebook, a lot of questions, and twi that couldn’t get past “how are you?”
The only answer I have for this open arms treatment is the spirit of akwaaba. That word I hear every day from random strangers, so surprising at first and so different from what I am accustomed to in the US. I have been welcomed by my coworkers, by our host family, by the people we have met in the field, and the friendly strangers on the tro-tros that help the three obronis get off at the right stop. When asked to write this post, we were asked not to sugar coat anything, to be honest. This is honest. Akwaaba has enveloped me here in Kumasi and made me effortlessly sink into the rhythm. Akwaaba has made me realize the true impact our host enterprise has on the farmers it works for and the passion that keeps our coworkers in the office long after 5pm and much earlier than 8am. Akwaaba has opened my eyes to the fact that even half way across the world, surrounded by the unfamiliar I can feel perfectly at home.