This was my motto throughout my time here in Ghana. It pertains to how people adapt to their living situation. I thought about this mostly when I saw elementary-school-aged children walking with friends down the road between speeding, swerving traffic, and 5 foot deep sewers, with sheep and goats weaving in and out of their space. Any mother in the US would freak out if she saw her child doing this, and would simply not allow the kid to walk to school. But if you have to, you will. If you have to learn from age 5 how to find your house while avoiding all these potentially life threatening obstacles, you will. And guess what? Ghanaian children are 50x more mature than many American teenagers. Obedient, multilingual, enthusiastic sharers, and extremely independent.
"There's nothing to do here." I can't tell you how many times I've heard this. I hear it everywhere: at home in California, at school in Ohio, in a village in Ghana... There's "nothing" to do anywhere, it seems.
Something about a very handsome and built man hacking up raw cow parts right in front of you is both mesmerizing and beautiful. Actually, let me rephrase that: Everything about it is. As long as you don't mind having little pieces of flesh flung at you, watching a man's right pec flex as the knife slaps down against the bone is... sexy. I could have sat there for hours. Sigh... I hope you're paying attention, boys. If you want a key to my heart, go obtain a whole cow, invite me over, and butcher it yourself. What a romantic evening. We can even light candles if you want. I'm actually serious.
Remember the man I had the conversation about the goat with? He was there during the hacking, and this is what he said:
Man: "This is big!"
Me: "Yes."
Man: "This is cow!"
Me: "I know."
Man: "Live cow!"
Me: "No, it's dead!"
Can't fool me that easily.
Sometimes my water decides to stop running. So I shower using water sachets. Not bad, but not easy. But when you have exactly 48 oz of water to bathe with, you learn pretty quickly how to be efficient.
Going on Day-Care inspections with Assembly Members has been interesting, if only because I like learning how different the men are from each other. Serious, go-get-em, and nosy; laid back, smiley, and 'cool' looking; one who has his secretary do everything... And then my personal favorite: a really thin, quiet, kind man who lives alone, loves cats, who's favorite food is plain rice, a tailor by profession, and who sews his own clothes. I would vote for this guy any day. You should have seen the way people lit up and greeted him when we walked around his area. He genuinely cares about other people, and it shows on his face.
That Assembly Member said something I really liked. He said, out of the blue really, "If you want to be successful, you have to make sacrifices. You can't just always think what you can get, or nobody will follow you." I learned a day later that Assembly Members don't get paid.
So, I have met a few people here who give me pretty creepy vibes, really good vibes, and no vibes in particular. The good vibes make all the rest worth it.
After another inspection, I was walking back to the road when I asked the Assembly Member I was with what the bungalows over yonder were for. He said, "Learning." I looked around and realized that I was on the University of Cape Coast campus. It sort of snuck up on me. I mean, I realized that I was in a nice area, but it melded so perfectly well with the rest of the environment that I thought it was part of the town. The campus is amazing though; I was really impressed. He also showed me the Cape Coast Polytechnic Institute, where you can learn carpentry, electric work, welding, fashion, etc. etc. The schools are so pretty and have such a different vibe than the crowded, busy towns that they nestle up against. Such a calm, peaceful atmosphere for learning.
So, I was in my room the other day, all dressed to go to work and rubbing sunscreen into my face, thinking about my last blog post when a strange feeling hit me. It made me stop mid-sunscreen rub. It felt like my face was a gong and someone tried to play it fortissimo. I knew what the feeling was. It was becoming an adult. I don't know if this makes any sense, but in that moment, I felt like how I imagined my mom felt like as an adult when I was really little.
A second later, I had a flashback to pre-school, probably the furthest you can get from adulthood. But I suddenly remembered saying to one of my teachers, "I want to be a kid forever! I never want to grow up!" And my teacher said, "Yeah, I used to say that, too. But one day you just wake up and realize that you're an adult." I guess he was right.
So my host mom was preparing some meat in the courtyard, and the dogs were eyeing it and trying to eat any scraps they could get. Even the chickens started fighting over strips of fat. I decided this wasn't ok with me, so I went and bought a loaf of bread and immediately became Snow White. The cats, dogs, and chickens all flocked to me. Fun for me, maybe, but it's what they have to do, living a mere mouth-to-ground existence.
So I finally found some cute dogs to hold. In our compound there are some puppies that must be only a few weeks old, and I hadn't seen them before because they were hiding. But they've started emerging more recently, and sort of waddling around and attempting to run but failing in the most endearing way possible. They aren't as scared of me as the older ones, and even if they are, at least I can catch them anyway. Plus, they don't really have teeth yet, so despite their best efforts to suck milk out of my arm, they can't even scratch my skin. So I scooped up two of the three, comforted them to show that I was a friend, and held them in my arms for them to sleep. We stayed like that for a long time. The next day, one of them got run over.
On another note, sarcasm does not exist here. Example:
Man: "You are white."
Me: "Really?! I'm white?! I didn't know that until you told me just now!"
Man: "Yeah... Well, when you go back to your home country, your [pale] skin will show again."
Me: "Great, thanks for letting me know."
You know, I am really going to miss Ghanaian food. I'll also miss eating with my right hand. Meat, fried plantains with stew, even soup. Soup tastes so much better when you eat it with your hand. Also, I tried street food. It was a delicious and fun experience. However, the repercussions the next morning were not delicious or fun. I think my street food days are over. Except for pancakes and doughnuts, because those literally fried fried, which never hurt anyone.
On 2 days when I was looking particularly nice, I got 8 marriage proposals. I said yes to 7 of them (one of them was being annoying). I made them very happy. Now I just hope all my husbands like each other. Obruni problems...
A woman and two children walked into the office on Thursday. They sat and were speaking in Fante to one of my coworkers and then he got up and left for something. I was typing a report at the other desk, and when I looked up, all three of the girls were staring at me. I looked at them quizzically, and the mother said something and one of her daughters translated, "She says she is hungry." I said I was sorry, then went back to typing. But they were still staring at me. When my coworker came back in the room I told him I didn't understand what was happening. He told me, "Yeah, this woman is here to collect money from our poverty reduction program, but I just asked our boss and he says the money isn't there." Then he looked at me too. At that point, I had to admit to myself that I knew what was going on all along, so I said, "Well, I can't help her." So she and her children took their leave, empty handed. My coworker then said, sort of distressed, "Some of these cases... They're serious, oh. You see a woman with two kids and they are really struggling." I felt sort of bad... But at the same time, I don't want to encourage the idea that obrunis give free handouts. And I can't give money to everyone who asks for some, and I can't give money to everyone who doesn't ask for some, which translates into me not giving money to anybody at all. Which might also be the wrong approach. But at this point I'm not here long enough to teach her how to fish. (For all you psych majors out there, this is cognitive dissonance at its finest.) I've learned a lot about working as a government employee in a developing country. It's not easy to make a difference when the funds aren't there.
This last week has been truly amazing. I don't know if I just became extremely comfortable here, or if I was just excited to go home after two months, but whatever it was, I've been so so happy these last few days. Like, part of me says, "Man, why did it get so good right at the end?!" And part of me says, "You really need to go home. You're starting to act like an American again. You're becoming silly and doing that weird thing you do when you pretend to swim while walking and hugging people and calling them 'smushy wushy' just to annoy them. Go back to the states and be weird there."
On Thursday the Proworld peeps went out to dinner, as per usual. We got pizza and ice cream which is always a plus. Then, my friend said she was going to a radio station where her friend works and did I want to come. Best decision ever. The radio station was dark and fancy and polished... And air conditioned which made it too cold! The girl's friend let us record our voices saying things like, "Hello Ghana, this is Emily, and this is cruise extra on Cape 93.3", and, "I'm Mackenzie and I'm from the United States. Whenever I come to Ghana, I only listen to the best, which is Cape 93.3". So I'm going to be on the radio!! And it's a recording, so who knows how many times they will play it?
After that we headed to a rooftop which the owner is trying to turn into a club. The view was awesome, because when you're on the street everything can seem a little confusing or hectic... Like, my other motto is, "I never know what's going on here." Gets me by almost every day. But looking down from above, it all just seemed to flow; everything made sense. Well, nobody was really there at the rooftop club, so I ended up just going to my other friend's host family's house and three of us chatted until I had to go back home.
Someone on the street handed me a tiger nut. Pretty tasty.
Anyway, my Auntie took me back to The University of Cape Coast to attend a party for her class to celebrate the end of exams. My host mom prepared food for 80 people for it. She is such a good cook. Ama and I didn't really have anyone to talk to but each other, which was a-okay with me, because it meant that we went outside and ran around and danced all night. She's my little sister and the light of my life.
Here are two quotes that I like:
"A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life. " - Charles Darwin
"Time you enjoy wasting is not time wasted." - Bertrand Russel
This is a roundabout way of saying that the value of life is to be happy. But it also means that we shouldn't take life too quickly. You don't have to live fast or hard to enjoy yourself. Just take a little time to "waste" and have some fun. Slow down. Enjoy more.
This has nothing to do with anything, but on my flight to London, the attendant gave me a bottle labeled "still water". I dozed off, and when I woke up, it was still water.
Unfortunately for you, faithful reader, by opening my blog, you are voluntarily subjecting yourself to my Saxe sense of humor.
Ok, so I have a ten hour layover in London's Heathrow airport. Not bad, because the terminal is big and there's plenty to look at in the way of window shopping and people watching. But I will never understand British culture. Ever. All of a sudden, I feel rushed to make decisions and talk fast and like... I haven't been rushed for a while except sometimes at work. I ordered a smoothie at a restaurant in the airport and it came out in like, 2 minutes rather than 15. It sort of took me aback. The salad I ordered was a portion size that I thought I could finish, which made me feel unloved. (Of course I couldn't finish it, but that is because my body is experiencing palm oil withdrawal and rejecting all foods non-Ghanaian... Fun!!!) And everyone here just says "Hello" instead of "Good afternoon". Did the British seriously have control over Ghana not so long ago? Because I'm having serious culture shock over here...
One of my American coworkers said to me once, "I feel like you have a special relationship with Ghana". She's right, too. The first time I came to Ghana, everyday was glorious and magical - puppy love. This time, Ghana challenged me to test my loyalty to him. Ghana tries me, brings out the worst and the best in me. Ghana forces me to achieve more than I thought possible and then coerces me to leave work and go on 3 hour lunch dates with him. Ghana and I have a love hate relationship. Sometimes I snap under his pressure and Ghana looks down on me. Sometimes I push his buttons to see if I can snap him back, but he knows me too well and we have too many mutual friends for me to ever get to him. Ghana tears me to shreds and exposes my weaknesses, which only makes me stronger. Then we "take a break" from one another. But we aren't over. I know that I'll return to Ghana someday. And although I may flirt with other countries this upcoming year, I have a feeling that none of them will ever replace my first true love. Ghana knows I'll be back, too, and so he will wait for me, andI know he will still love me when I return. The best part about our relationship is that we have patience with one another.
It's 6 am now that I'm posting this from my bedroom in the US. I slept on the couch for a while because I love sleeping on couches. It makes me feel free. Now I'm lying in my bed, facebook messaging my friends in Ghana, listening to Iron & Wine, and thinking about everything I have to do to get ready for my next adventure. Although I'll miss Ghana and my friends at Kenyon and I always miss home, I feel like what I'm doing is right.
Maybe I'm finally figuring things out. And 'things' is a broad term.
Yoh, yen koh!!!
Yours truly,
Ekuwa
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