A Journey to Africa

I’m extremely curious what drew each of you to this trip in the first place.

Grace Eberhardt ’20, African American studies and biology double major: This was the only study abroad experience that actually seemed interesting to me. It was just cool to go somewhere that’s not overly visited in study abroad—and also to go with African American studies. It seemed like a unique experience that I wanted to take advantage of.

Blake Bouligny ’20, business major, African American studies minor: I never really wanted to go abroad—I just never wanted that to be part of my college agenda. But I’ve always wanted to go to Africa.

Makenna Hess-Fletcher ’22, African American studies major, Spanish minor: I thought, I’ll go to the meeting, see what it’s about. I think the fact that Dr. Brackett, a black woman, was leading the trip was really important for me; it made me feel safe in going. And the fact that it would be three weeks felt good—not too long, but enough to get over the nerves of going abroad.

Erica Greening ’21, African American studies major: For me, also being a black woman, having a black woman leading the trip made me feel more secure in my own hopes and desires—and in my anxieties—about traveling. I had never been abroad before, so it was nice to feel reassured that those were very valid things to feel—but also to feel pushed to step out of my comfort zone and try something new and different.

Herbert: Going to Ghana was something I always had wanted to do, and I was bummed out when I got [to Puget Sound] that there wasn’t a program for Ghana. And then this was offered.

What about the logistics of getting ready—passports, visas, and all that? That would be tough.

Herbert: It was for me. Especially in my community, nobody’s ever gone out of the country; they haven’t had to use a passport. They don’t know the first thing about traveling. Dr. Brackett held my hand through the whole process of getting the passport and the visa. I’m glad that I did it, because I want to travel, and I now have the essentials to do it. It wasn’t so hard to get everything, but I thought it would be, because it’s so beyond what my people did.

Gudgell: Dr. Brackett set up a structure for us, as far as logistics go. We delegated certain tasks and “captain” work to different people. She made it known that we were going to be responsible for ourselves and for helping each other out. Sometimes that felt like a lot, but in hindsight, I think she did a very intentional job of setting it up so that we knew she would oversee things and make sure we were OK, but that ultimately, we were really in charge of ourselves.

Bouligny: I’ve had Dr. Brackett in more than one class, and she’s never the type of professor to hold your hand. As soon as you step in her class, you are accountable for you. So I knew what I was getting into.

Sammie Walimaki ’20, Spanish culture and literature major; education studies, Latina/o studies, and African American studies triple minor: It was nice that Dr. Brackett was so familiar with the country and that she had friends there who we got to meet, and she knew some locals. She was very comfortable there. And she asked us to each take on one thing—whether it’s surveys, or taking photos of the trip, or monitoring people’s health, or managing medication—she was asking us to be aware of ourselves and aware of how our peers were doing. For me, I grew up with only one parent, and my mom was an immigrant from Northern Europe, where it’s very individualistic. So it was different to be on a trip where you’re asked to not only monitor and recognize what’s coming up for you and address that, but also to notice how the group is doing, what the group is needing.

There was a class that you all had to take in the fall—AFAM 310—before going on the trip. What did Dr. Brackett have you all doing to get prepared?

Bouligny: There was a lot of reading, which gave us insight into the culture that we were about to dive into. We also talked about what we’re going to be doing there, what we can and cannot do there. Reflecting on remaining ourselves.

Now you’re in Africa—let’s talk a little bit about the marketplace. [laughter] I hear the chuckles—what popped into your head there?

Bouligny: That was real Ghanaian culture right there. If you went to Ghana and didn’t do anything else, the market itself could tell you so much about Ghana. It was everything—a mile worth of stuff. If you really want to see peak Ghanaian culture, it’s there. It was insane.

Herbert: I remember after I went to the first one, I was like, “Ah, I can’t do this again.” I was so overwhelmed. I can go out and have a good time in spaces that are very packed. But that one—I think it was the smells, then the crowdedness. It was so much. And it was hot—the time of the day we would go, noon to 3 p.m., is the time you do not want to be outside. So it’s crowded, it’s hot, I’m trying not to bump into people, I’m trying to navigate the space but also worried about being called at and then trying to not get lost. But in general it’s like our shopping centers. You get your food, you get your clothes. It’s what we do—just outside.

Were any of you worried about buying things and maybe stepping into some cultural appropriation territory?

Gudgell: There were a lot of conversations about that on the trip, especially in relation to the fabric with different prints on it. I don’t really think any conclusion was reached because—I don’t know, it’s a very important issue, but it’s also so subjective. Different people, and especially white students, approached it in different ways. Some of them were asking the black students, “Is this OK?” I feel like it just became such a focal point of the trip, in some ways. I think it’s a very important issue to consider, but if it takes up that much time, then maybe just don’t buy it. [laughter] Focus on other aspects of the trip.

Greening: Also, the white students just went through the market—they didn’t really engage with the vendors or buy anything. I thought that was really interesting.

Hess-Fletcher: I also noticed something with that. It was kind of cool being in a market where the products are for black people. Some of us saw things we wanted—like the shea butter. And the white students didn’t want anything from that market, but now I’m thinking it wasn’t really for them. So it makes sense that they didn’t see any of that stuff as consumable for them. They were like, “I’m looking for the art.” They wanted to go to the woodcarving place, get the earrings and things that are approved by Western society. They didn’t want any of the everyday black people things.

Erica Greening: I guess buying black soap is not exciting. [laughter]

Makenna Hess-Fletcher: Right. For us it’s exciting.

I want to know what it was like for the black students, to be African American, but not Ghanaian. What pieces of yourself did you have to downplay to fit in? And how did you work through that?

Greening: For me, that can be boiled down one experience. We all got our hair done in Ghana, and I said to one of our student leaders from the University of Ghana, “I don’t know, I’ve never gotten a haircut before.” She said, “Well, let me touch your hair.” And she said, “It’s very soft, the texture of it—it’s different.” I never thought about it that way, because my whole life everyone told me that my hair is coarse. She was observing that it looked the same, but it felt different—and that’s how I felt in Ghana. If I was somewhere with other black students, people could tell that I was not Ghanaian, but some would still try to talk to me in Twi [the local dialect]. And I’d have to say, “I don’t really know what you’re saying.” But it was very comforting, the fact that I’m not the only one walking around black; I can really just be with myself and not be afraid to be in a space. On the other hand, I knew that I was different, and all the other Ghanaians knew that I was different. There was always that feeling around. It was interesting to observe that—to feel just slightly different.

Herbert: I kept going back to my Americanism, because I felt like that was the only thing that made me different: being an American. When I was getting my hair done, multiple people thought I was Ghanaian—the woman was touching my hair and she asked, “Are you Ghanaian?” And I wondered, Why is she asking me that? Is it because I’m dark? Then she said, “No, your hair is kinky. It’s nappy.” And I thought, Oh. Cool. She was saying, “You have to be Ghanaian—you look Ghanaian, you have the facial features, your hair is this way.” Multiple people did that to me. It made me feel like my only difference was the fact that I just wasn’t born there. I didn’t feel like a minority there. I didn’t feel like I was any different from anyone else, except the fact that I couldn’t say what region I was from or speak Twi.

Bouligny: I had an experience in the salon where Makenna was getting her hair braided, and I was getting my hair braided, and they still managed to gravitate towards Sammie [who is white and was along to take pictures]. The whole few hours I was there, I felt invisible, even in the black space that I always seem to feel comfortable in. It was really weird for me.

Herbert: I felt the same thing, but I didn’t process it in that way. Daniel [Daniel Espinoza ’22, a Latino student on the trip] came with me the second time to get my hair braided, and they were all over him, but I looked at it as, They see me as being normal, and Daniel or Sammie or white people are the different ones. They are always going to get that attention, because they’re foreign. In that moment, we weren’t foreign—they were foreign. I took it as, I’m invisible because I belong in this space, and this space works for me.

Bouligny: I think it was just because I know black spaces when I see black spaces, and then being in a black space in a black country, I thought, I’m doubly protected right here. But I didn’t feel super “there.” I was there, but I didn’t feel like I was being talked to. But then, I also felt comfortable because I wasn’t being watched. I didn’t have to worry about speeding on the freeway. I didn’t have to worry about people thinking I’m stealing. And that made me comfortable. But I think internally, I was like, I’m just another black person. That’s all I am.

There were times on the trip when you were divided into “affinity groups”—students who identified as black in one group, white students in another, and the two students of color who weren’t black in another. It allowed you to experience certain things just with your peers. What was that like?

Greening: For me, I’m from Seattle, and being at a predominantly white institution, as well, I’m constantly just suppressing things that bother me. I’m constantly just telling myself, Got to keep moving. You got to keep moving, got to get through the day. In Ghana, we would be in our affinity groups and then I’d be, “You know, I didn’t realize that bothered me, but it actually bothered me,” or, “Oh yeah, that was kind of strange.” I felt validated in my observations. I think that was really important to me, to realize that I don’t need to suppress things in order to get by. Sometimes it was emotional, but a lot of times it was just, “OK, that was strange, and you saw that too. OK.” I just felt connected to other people, which was nice.

I wanted to ask you, Grace, about the affinity group, because being a non-black person of color, you were with Vivie Nguyen [Puget Sound’s director for intercultural engagement] and Daniel Espinoza—all three of you being non-black people of color. How did you all work together to process the experience?

Eberhardt: It was really nice, because it felt very intimate. First of all, I didn’t want to take up space in a group with my black peers. I wanted them to have the space that they needed. But also, not being in the white group, I didn’t have to think so hard as to how I’m going to say things, policing my words—I didn’t have to do that. It was nice to talk to people and be confused as to where we are in this [black/white] dichotomy that we see in Ghana, and how I felt like my identity changed depending on who I was next to—which I also feel in the U.S. It was just really nice that we had similar experiences. I didn’t expect to grapple with my identity as much as I did. I thought, Oh, I’m just going to be a white American there, but that wasn’t always the case. And I was not mentally prepared for that.

Greening: The only time where I was truly tearing up was when we were at the Door of No Return. It was because we were in the dungeon. You could feel the heaviness of the air, and the smells are still kind of there, and the scratches on the wall. You see that this was very painful. We were all very quiet, rightfully so. But we were also trying to navigate the stuff that we were seeing from other people visiting, and I was getting really angry at the white folks who were just laughing it up, having a good time, trying to take silly photos, and me being like, “Uh, literally millions of people were murdered here.” Then also knowing that I wasn’t just visiting for myself but for my whole family—that they were expecting me to report back on the stuff that I saw and what I felt, and knowing that I had to be present in the moment in order to truly take it in. It was important to me that I notice details that you can’t really get from a photo: how slick the stones were when you’re walking, or truly how dark it is, and how the air just sits in the dungeon.

The folk in the castle who were not really careful with their reactions—do you think they understood what the Door of No Return even was?

Herbert: I feel it can be explained to them, but because they’re Europeans, I don’t think they could understand their—should I use the term positionality? Their people didn’t go out that door. Our people did. There’s only so much you can understand from a culture that’s not yours. I can never understand the genocide of native people—I could understand it, but I will never be able to feel what they felt, because that’s a completely different genocide. I can’t feel that loss of culture. So I think the slave castle was a space for them to be like, “Oh I visited that and it sucked,” and then you keep going on with your life. But it doesn’t really bother them.

Greening: I don’t even know if it was like, “It sucked.” It was more like, “It was interesting.” Do you remember when our guide was explaining the significance of the courtyard? There was this well, and some cells, and then there was a cannonball that was used, essentially, for torture—humiliation of different captured African women. They would chain them up to this cannonball and make them stand. And this woman comes by with this giant iPad and just walks through the middle of our group, and then just—click, click, click—and then walks away. For me it felt like her reaction was, “Oh, this is very interesting. I know so much more now.” In my head I imagined her talking to her other white middle-aged friends and saying, “Oh, look at these photos. Oh yeah, this is a cannonball right here.”

Herbert: It was just an object to her.

Bouligny: There was a lot of senselessness in the castle. That’s just the best way to say it. There were a lot of senseless people just walking through, just breezing through. It’s just another museum to them.

Walimaki: Our guide, Kwame, was explaining it to me. A student asked him, “Why? How can Ghanaians walk through and take selfies in this space?” Even taking photos felt inappropriate sometimes, just because it was a very vulnerable space. It felt uncomfortable. And Kwame said that for Ghanaians, this time period was a population loss—they lost some people, the way you do in a war—and then their country kept going. That really made me think about how, in AFAM studies, we learned that blackness in the United States is descended from this horrible thing that happened, one of the worst crimes in humanity’s history. But from the African perspective, it was like, “Oh, that was a really hard time for Ghana because we lost so many people, but we bounced back.” Ghanaians wouldn’t be descended from people who endured that kind of experience.

Seeing the castle actually gave me a very clear parallel with U.S. society, in terms of hierarchy. The construction of the dungeons, with no air ventilation, no effective drainage system—versus the governors and the higher-ups who were inhabiting the rest of the castle. They had wooden floors and 12 windows in their rooms, and it was scenic and overlooked the ocean. I saw how that would translate into the construction of the U.S. society, in terms of social hierarchies manifested in architecture. I read a book on social justice and architecture, so that was on my mind on that trip. But I also realized, as a white person entering that space, white people were responsible for that. And it’s on us to do whatever we can to prevent that from perpetuating further. There was a sign inside the castle—basically, the last line was “and we the living, it’s up to us to make sure that the events that occurred here never repeat again.” That really stuck with me in terms of having the privilege to go on this trip, having the privilege to be in higher education and learn of this history, then to see it in person, and then thinking how to move forward with that awareness.

Grace, I’m curious for your perspective, being a non-black person of color at the slave castle, having an understanding of what this place is, but also looking at the white visitors in the space just being disrespectful.

Eberhardt: We did have some disruptive people come into the Door of No Return. That was incredibly frustrating—they were just laughing and had their flashlights on and were like, “Oh, so sorry, I didn’t know you guys were here.” Also, the non-black POC [persons of color] group toured with the white group, and we agreed to have the non-black POC group go ahead—and it kind of felt like the white students didn’t know how to not to be in the front. And I also felt weird being in the front of the space.

Gudgell: I obviously messed up a lot on the trip, and I don’t want to separate myself from the other white students, because we’re all a part of this and we all were having to be very aware of physically where we were—the space we were in and the positions that we occupy there—in a way that we’ve never had to be aware of before. With that, I think part of the frustration for me was that some of the other white students would go up ahead, even in front of the non-black POC sometimes, even after we had talked multiple times about how we were going to try to do it. A big theme of the trip was individualism versus collectivism, and Dr. Brackett had a meeting with the white students at one point and she said, “I’m noticing now that you all may have grown up in a very individualistic way, because that’s a very Western value, and that’s really impacting your peers and the staff members on this trip.”

Greening: I really realized that there’s so much more to all of this than I can visualize or understand. The slave trade was just so much bigger than what we think it is. Also the fact that many of them didn’t even make it to the slave castles—many of them died or drowned in the rivers. So many more people were taken than the actual amount of people who made it to the Americas. Every step of the way death was just there, present. I had never really understood that fully.

Hess-Fletcher: For me, the engagement of the body and the walking on the soil and holding onto each other to imitate the chains—it was all very spiritual for me. I think when I got in the water, I felt this stillness, and I think a few tears fell. I just felt connected to the space and the land. I was thinking what they must have been thinking, how much anxiety and fear and strength they were channeling to be resilient and to keep going. Watching people around them die.

OK, so I’m going to change gears again. I want you all to give me just one moment of joy. One moment where you thought, OK, this is why I came.

Walimaki: At Glefe [headquarters for Glefe Youth Ghana, a nonprofit organization where the students completed a day of service], I was doing photography for the majority of the day. It was hot, and I was thirsty, and there was paint in my eyes. And a group of people on the trip just got up and started dancing and singing. People were painting still, people were sanding, people were herding kids around. It was just absolute chaos, and there was just this joyous moment of people just letting it out. Oh, my God, I was just—I was in tears. I think that was the biggest moment for me, where everyone was just so proud of the work that they’d been doing all day. People worked hard, and then everyone just took a moment to just let it go.

Greening: All the black students got dinner a few times together, and it was just nice after doing the heavy lifting of decompressing and reflecting. At one point we just sitting around joking with each other. I feel like when I was around other white students, I had to intellectualize so much. I don’t know—because we are all academics in this space. But it was nice to be around black students or the other POC students on the trip and just laugh and feel joyous by the beach. Really enjoy each other’s company.

Bouligny: One of the peak things we did was going to Kakum National Park. Some of us were just stopping and taking pictures. That day we just took the time to enjoy each other and the surroundings, being on the hanging bridges up in the trees. Obviously, that was a day where you need to be around people you trusted—for me at least, because I was getting kind of nervous because we were shaking the bridges. But it was a lot of fun doing something that didn’t need a lot of emotion—just letting go and being there. Just really existing in that moment was really great for me.

Eberhardt: At the art village place, we met someone who had their own drums studio, so we went and got private drum lessons. I come from a music background, so I was really focused and trying to copy [them]—it was really fun to do something like that across cultures. We were laughing and it was just super fun.

Hess-Fletcher: The musical aspects were so impactful for me, as well. On our first full day there, we learned how to play the talking drum and we learned some dancing, and it was really fun. I felt like I really got out of my comfort zone and it set the tone for the trip a little bit. At the end of the trip, I did karaoke—I really got out of my comfort zone for that. It was really impactful on me and the way I see myself, not being afraid to take up a little more space.

Herbert: The church we went to was really a memorable moment, because not everyone is religious but everybody still put aside their beliefs, and a lot of us got up there and danced. And they prayed over us, which was out of some people’s comfort zones. But it’s the church. That’s what they do. It was really nice to be a part of their Christian type of churches, because it’s so different from what we have, yet also very similar.

Eberhardt: I was one of the first people to be invited up there, and I was dancing with this older woman, and it was so fun. And to dance in a space where you’re not sexualized was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had in my life. Just to not be picking apart my body.  

Hess-Fletcher: Definitely agree with that. You’re just allowed to have bodies. It doesn’t matter. That was a really nice experience throughout the trip.

Herbert: To have the bumps and the curves and not be looked at differently—because everyone had bumps and curves. Or there were the people who were thin, and it was fine. Nobody was overly hyper-sexualized.

Greening: I feel like I engage with African-ness more, and I’m very curious about the African diaspora now. The Western media wants black people to believe that they’re alone in the world: No one looks like you, no one acts like you. And to a certain extent the experiences of African Americans are unique, very not like any other experiences in the world. But there is a long legacy of African Americans living outside the U.S. and feeling closer to their blackness, engaging with the entire world. At the same time, I have realized that it doesn’t matter how woke you are or what your major is—it is still a lifelong process to ask yourself, Why? Why do I do these things? Why do I think this way? I’ve learned so much from experiencing that, from observing that in a black majority country.

Bouligny: After seeing Ghanaians working hard in the conditions that they’re living in, everything they’re doing with the limited resources, I feel like I’m more purposeful—because I know that they’re working very hard to survive, and I have all these resources to help me. I’m more driven to reach my goals, and then I want to be able to help people who have those limitations and can only go so far. I think that’s based on everything that we did at Glefe Youth Ghana—I was super into everything that we were doing there.

Eberhardt: I’ve always kind of struggled with my racial identity. Coming back from the trip, I felt validated by my experiences in Ghana, how they are similar to my experiences in the U.S., and I’m just accepting the fact that people are going to perceive me different and I can’t control how people perceive me, whether they perceive me as white or they perceive me as Latina. I can’t control that. So I feel like I came to accept that. I understand that it’s going to be a lifelong process, but it really did help me so much, and I never really expected that to happen.

Walimaki: I am really grateful that I had this opportunity. I never thought that I would make it to college, much less study abroad. So that was amazing. And this trip taught me a lot about what it means to be a part of the community and to support your community. I’d never really experienced such a strong group before. Ever. And I think part of that is Dr. Brackett’s meticulous planning, her leadership on this team, and her demonstration of taking care of the group, but also her showing us when she needed to take a step back and take care of herself too. And this group was really special, and for the first time I felt like I had that experience of being part of the collective. That was really amazing, and I think I’ll move forward with that value, with that at the forefront of my mind.