"whyyyt mon," an elementary school boy in Kpando calls out as i walk by him on the street.  i look at my skin to verify.  yes, he is right, i am a white man.

"white man, where are you going?" another child asks.  from experience, i know that he really does want to know.  everybody wants to know where the white man is going.

passing by a schoolyard, a large group of children notices me and cheerfully breaks out into a familiar song:
 "how are you?  i'm fine, thank you.  how are you?"

I have heard this song, a grade-school English exercise, many times during my trip.

some young adults are more aggressive.  "i want to be your friend- can i have your address?" is a typical attempt at a conversational ice-breaker.  as my Accra friend Philip explains, this is not really the equivalent of asking a celebrity for an autograph.  what they want is an American friend who may one day write a letter inviting them to the U.S..  mostly they're just dreaming, and supposedly the vast majority will never actually write.  i guess i'll find out.

older adults aren't necessarily more subtle in their preferential treatment.  waiting in a long line at a bank once, a security guard escorted me to the front of the line.

in general, the attention is nothing less than favorable, but unless you enjoy being a celebrity, it can get tiring after some time.  later in my trip, i increasingly tell strangers i don't have time to talk.  invariably they respect that.  i spent some of my last days in the tourist resort Big Milly's Backyard in Kokrobite, and find that i enjoy the break from being a celebrity.  This break ends the second i step outside the resort and onto the beach.

"it makes no difference if you are black or if you are white," a rastafarian drum salesman greets me while i am trying to read a book.  "we are one people.  you will buy a drum from me, yes?"

...

back in Accra two days before my return flight, i checked into the President Hotel.  this hotel is strategically located across the street from a highlife musician that i was stalking.  Teddy Tetteh, the bandleader of Teddy's Combo, is a high profile musician, having played for the president and regularly playing at foreign embassies.  after complaining to his wife about obnoxious aspiring ghanaian musicians asking him too many questions about his music career, he is nothing less than hospitable to me.  his family cooks me dinner, forces me to drink their beer (they own a bar), and brings me out to see one of the local highlife clubs.

in much the same way that travelers such as myself are curious about africa and its people, many ghanaians are reciprocally curious about travelers and their home countries, though few have the chance to travel.  Teddy is one of the few ghanaians i meet who has actually been to america.  Reminiscing about living in chicago, he describes flirting with chicago women.  his wife yells at him, and he shuts up.