Week 11. I cannot believe it's here. This time next week I'll be back to the Western world. Back to order, cleanliness, health, car payments, job searches, and responsibility. Crap. Since I will be traveling next weekend I will be filling this week with bittersweet goodbyes, Alvaro, and pineapple, so this will be my final post of the trip. Those of you that have been following along THANK YOU! And enjoy a few of my closing thoughts.
A few weeks ago I started making lists. Lists of things I couldn't wait to get home to (other than friends, family, and dogs of course), lists of things I would do when I got home, and things I would miss about my time here. So here they are:
Things I can't wait to get home and do:
1) Brush my teeth with my electric toothbrush. And use the tap water to do it. 2) Take a shower that doesn't involve buckets. And with warm water.
3) Eat a salad.
5) Drive my car.
7) Be able to understand the conversations I am overhearing. And for that matter sit in a room where I can understand the language that is being used to socialize.
8) Not live across the street from constant horn and drum practice.
Things I will definitely miss:
1) Tro-tro rides. Always.
2) How helpful some people can be. Taxi drivers helping you find the tro-tro station after you deny them service is awesome. And when their directions are correct? It's nothing short of a miracle.
3) Africa time. Constantly having an excuse for taking your time or sleeping in late.
4) The people I worked closely with. Everyone at Point Hope, Bismac at the nutrition center, and a select few nurses had an amazing ability to make me feel comfortable half way across the world. For that, I will forever be in their debt.
Things I will miss and not miss at the same time:
1) Paying the same price as everyone else for something. Over charging obronis is borderline racist. But like, it was really fun haggling. And when I get home the lady at the grocery store will have to excuse me when I gasp at pineapple prices.
2) Being called out for being white. I'll miss hearing little kids calling me obroni and every taxi and tro-tro mate fighting over my business. I won't miss people at the market continuing to scream at you when you're clearly ignoring them. No more 'white lady! madam white!' I also won't miss the 'harass the obroni' game or people not realizing that obroni sounds the same in Twi as it does in English (aka I can tell when you're talking about me).
3) Being chased by chickens or goats every where you go. Sometimes that's just fun.
4) The energy. It doesn't matter what time it is every one is always so full of energy and life. I won't miss, however, the volume of the energy.
5) The constant marriage proposals. Fun at first. Then someone brings their son/brother/cousin to your work and you start to feel like an object.
Things I will NOT miss:
1) The smell. One of the other volunteers described it as a mix of sweaty bodies, food, animals, and urine.
2) Watch your step. If it's wet and you're wearing sandals- avoid it. And all little black bags- they might squish.
3) Dumsor. Ghanaian word for lights off and some of my most miserable times.
Getting used to life here was not difficult. I'm remembering to hold my breath in the really stinky spots and I've caught onto some simple Twi pretty easily. I actually don't believe that a week from today I'll be sitting at home catching up on The Walking Dead. Like any other place or job in the world I've had good days and bad days. And while I'm so excited to return to the way of living I'm used to, I can't help but to think- most people I've met here don't escape this. They will never stop roughing it. They won't stop worry about the risk of malaria and other tropical disease. They'll always wonder if this is the time that the lights won't come back on. And they won't stop worrying if their water or food is safe- and for some, if they will be able to eat at all. The emotional toll of daily living here is astounding. But somehow, someway, everyone manages to go about their day with a smile on their face, bopping along to the constant background music of the landscape.
As I sit and reflect on my time here, I can't get one thing out of my head. And I've been thinking it since I got here. How would my life have been different if I was born into this world? If I was born a split second later into the home of a mother who wasn't able to eat well her whole pregnancy and who won't get drugs afterwards? How would I be different if I didn't know where my next meal was coming from while growing up? And would I still lean as heavily on my brain and my education if the education I received was of poorer quality? What if I didn't have the unconditional love and affection of my family? What if my life was uprooted by war and I was forced to relocate to a new country? What would my life be like? What kind of person would I be? I don't think these questions will ever be answered- and because of that, they will stay with me forever.
I wrote in my first post that I was hoping this trip wouldn't change me to much but, to be honest, it has. I come away knowing how people have to survive everyday and the thoughts they share on their situation. I have context for refugee life both during resettlement and trying to integrate afterwards. I come away having learned how simple life can be if you let it, and how much happier that can make you.
I don't know if I'll be back to Ghana. I kept saying the whole time here that there are other places in the world to explore, but I've grown attached to some of the people here, so I think time will only tell. I will miss this country though, the way of life and all the people here.
One final thing. Please be careful when asking me how the trip was. It will be very difficult for me to feel right generalizing with an answer like 'good'.
