Friendly. That's how I describe the people we met in Ghana.
Here's one example. Driving down a narrow dirt road toward a remote coastal town we came upon a gaping mudhole.
We surveyed the options, hit the gas, and sunk deep into the muck. Tires spinning, we were stuck. We all hopped out and pushed, but we made no progress. Then two local ladies approached with baskets regally balanced on their heads and babies cradled tightly against their backs. "We will get you help", they offered calmly. Shortly an excited crowd of young boys came trotting down the road and jumped energetically into the muck engulfing our van. While two boys pawed the glop from in front of our tires, others collected dry dirt and stones using their shirts to carry the cargo back to the scene. Another boy hacked palm fronds with a machete and piled the rough greenery under our tires. Shortly our van was back on solid ground and we all celebrated.
Yours in appreciating the kindness of friendly strangers,