Badu awoke from a long sleep. The journey had been long, and he was tired. His father was not in the room, so Badu went to find him.

Badu walked the city street on his first day in America. He looked up at the tall buildings. He tried to blend in with the many people who rushed by. He wondered where they were going. They were dressed in heavy coats and hats, and Badu felt out of place in his sandals and dashiki, the clothing that he wore at home.

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A car honked as he tried to cross the street. Someone bumped against him and yelled in a language Badu did not understand. Badu wished he was back in his quiet, small village in Ghana.