Goodbye Ghana

I think it's time I say goodbye.  Interestingly enough, there actually isn't a word for goodbye in any of the Ghanaian languages, but nevertheless time for goodbye it is. I feel like it is too early to truly digest the last four months, all I can be is grateful for such an extraordinary experience.

Thank you for following along my crazy anecdotes, for your prayers and immense love that brought me here and will now bring me back. I simply could not have done this without your support, and I certainly wouldn't be able to do what's next either.

Coming back is always so much harder than leaving. It's a difficult process to make this experience fit into your being and return to an old life being undoubtedly changed. It's not something that can be accurately described, from simple things like returning to seeing grass and White people, shampoo that doesn't make my hair feel all sorts of strange and non-mentholated pads*, but there is the deeper realization of your immense material and psychological wealth, having to go back to an individualistic culture where people will not laugh, point, or react at your mere site, to be able to literally understand the world around you again, to friends and family that have changed and grown, as have you. And most importantly, figuring out a way to incorporate this entire experience somehow into your life. 

It's nice to know this time around I'm not alone, I have 17 new friends to go through this reverse culture shock with.   For some it will be harder than others, most of my friends are very well off financially (this program's tuition is $16,000...), I can't imagine going back to real life of luxury. Izzy, for example, the daughter of a major Hollywood producer, who had never been to a developing country before, will not be going back to America, but to Prague where she will spend the summer on the set of her Dad's next movie, in a luxurious apartment eating lavish $500 dinners. How do you go back to that? I really don't know. I walked through the Accra Mall last week and it felt truly traumatizing. I hadn't seen a shopping centre, restaurant or cinema in ages.  The luxurious cars, the aisles and storefronts of crap, the brands, seeing a courtyard of restaurants was incredibly difficult after spending the last five weeks studying hunger. I had to just walk out. To think about all my luxuries back home is not easy. We each have our complex life to somehow fit into, to re-learn whoit is that you are now.

It's a process that could never be fit into a single blog post, not in years of writing.  I'm still digesting my first trips and they were four years ago.  But nonetheless, it's time for goodbyes, to return to the people and things I love so much, to familiar and deliciously nutritious food, to a new chapter of my family with my first niece being born (hopefully later rather than sooner**), to a boss urgently seeking my return, a Warrior Dash to train and run, TV shows and new music to catch up on, a college career to finish. It's time for goodbye and that's all one can do, whatever comes next shall come.

Thank you to each of you for your invaluable support, I hope that I've provided enough entertainment and insight to just scratch the surface at the complexity and beauty of this incredible country.

When I left China and Brazil I ended with a miss/won't miss list of the little things of my experiences. So to follow on with that tradition, here's the miss/won't miss list, Ghana edition:

Won't miss:

~Constant non-stop OBRUNI calls

~ On that same note,the children. I really dislike children, dozens of them constantly after me for months, makes me hate them even more.

~The marriage proposals and unwanted touching- self-explanatory.

~ Living out of a suitcase-  In the last four months I have unpacked and repacked my bags a whopping 21 times, lived in 11 towns and have ridden innumerable tro tros and buses. Going back to a sense of permanency I am much looking forward to.

~ Tro Tros- crammed with 20 people in what's really a rattly van as they laugh at you is not exactly on the top of my list of favorites.

~Dearth of toilets- as much as one may get used to it. I'm not gonna miss it!

~Hand in hand with the last one, the constant reoccurring diarrhea/ stomach illnesses. Oh Ghana, your food is lovely, but my bowels really dislike you.

~Dirt and dust- everywhere, including you, taking of a layer of dirt everyday as you bathe is really not so great.

~The slowest and crappiest internet connections. Ever. Makes life difficult.

And on a nicer note, what I will miss:

~People genuinely caring about each other- everyone truly cares about each other, everyone greets, welcomes, invites you to eat with them (seriously, random stranger just bought an ice cream next to you, he'll turn around and say: you're invited. Always, for all foods, no matter the situation). It is truly incredible to live in a place like this, even if at times it can get frustrating as a stranger.

~SEX MACHINE song- this song plays everywhere all the time and the lyrics of it consist of- do do do do do do SEX MACHINE  and repeat. It has the catchiest beat, it's just hilarious. I  don't even know who sings it, I'm gonna miss it.

~Dancing at Church-  there is something really wonderful about praising God with your entire body, in true joy and bringing everyone together. It's really nice.

~Nature- safaris and fluorescent plankton aside, everyday there is a time when I see something naturally breathtaking. The trees, the birds, sunsets, the smell of nature, it's wonderful.


~Eating with my hands- that's just simply fun. Not always great if there isn't water to wash your hands afterward, but just fun.

~Mangoes & Pineapples- Ghana has the most incredibly delicious mangoes and pineapples I have ever tasted. I'm sure they're cheating with something. Ghana is trying to make mangoes their next big export, and they really really should.

~Handshake- Ghanaians have a particular way of shaking hands in which the middle fingers snap as you are separating your hands. I will always remember my first time I finally got that snap, it's the greatest feeling, especially because it was with a stranger. In the North, the handshake is followed by touching your heart. It just feels very cool, like Ghana has its own little secret handshake.

~Getting lunch and transport money- sure the price tag of this program is absolutely astronomical that it doesn't compare to getting $40 a week, but there is still something nice to your professor handing you money every week.

~Washing clothes by hand- I never came to dislike this. There is something wonderfully refreshing about living with six days worth of clothes and every few days having to grab your bucket and soap. An ipod on an early morning and it can be very relaxing. It's also astonishing the stains you can get out with just a bar of soap and your knuckles.

~FanIce- it's this soft serve ice cream sold in little sachets, it tastes like cupcake batter. Delicious. It's cousins: FanYogo (frozen strawberry yogurt), FanChoco (frozen chocolate milk), FanDango and FanPop (frozen fruit drinks) are also lovely.

~The absolutely amazing staff of this program that have truly become my family. From Dr. Yemi who's like that embarrassing dad when you take him out of in public, Papa Attah's antics and everyone else's fun and never ending support, they are just wonderfully dedicated. I will miss them dearly.

~These crazy classmates of mine- they were annoying, crazy and embarrassing 17 White people that I did come to love and appreciate very much. It's been a fun ride with them.

~Granny,Auntie Vivian, Auntie Maud, the lovely ladies of my Accra homestay- the outdoor shower and eating fresh fruit from the farm in the porch. A lovely home.

There are so many people and things that have made a place in my heart, I will never be able to list them all, I really won't be able to realize them all for a long time. Thanks Ghana for this incredible roller coaster of a time. It's been fun.



* I thought the mentholated sanitary napkin was solely a China thing, turns out they're here too.Granted here they are clearly labeled as "minty", you know what to expect, but in China, unable to read the packaging (or much of anything for that matter) I mistakenly figured these things were pretty standard worldwide. I soon found myself trying to entertain 50 seven-year-olds while the back of my mind going "What the hell is going on in my crotch??"

**My sister is out of the hospital by the way, in complete bedrest and hopefully she will last for three more weeks when it's safe to deliver.