Written Feb. 28th
I’m having a hard time putting my thoughts into words. How can I possibly sum up my time in Ghana? It feels like it’s been forever and no time at all since I first stepped off the plane into this once foreign land. Now, in many ways, this place is my home.
It’s tough to think that in less than 12 hours I will be on a plane back to Toronto. The thought is composed mostly of feelings of apprehension and anxiety, but also relief and excitement. Everything feels very surreal. Finding the energy to pack is difficult, I keep finding myself getting lost in thought. Dwelling. Reminiscing. Like it or not, this adventure is over. It’s been relegated to the ranks of memories.
A school in Adenta
Ghana has certainly been a place of extremes. Looking in the face of urban poverty can be quite distressing; but in Accra, this is always coupled with extravagant homes, flashy cars, the latest fashion trends and just about “upscale” everything. The levels of inequality are stark – and very visible. It is still not uncommon to see lepers on the street begging for food and shoeless children selling water. Sometimes the despair can be overwhelming. But more often than not, Ghanaians are happy, loud, boisterous and extremely welcoming people. They love any opportunity to smile and laugh. They take pride in their peaceful mentalities. From triumphs to tragedies, Ghana will always have a special place in my heart.
Waterfall in Larabanga (I think that's where it is, anyway)
To say this trip has only been positive would be a downright lie. In line with the theme of extremes, my emotions too have been something close to a rollercoaster ride. There were times when I wished to never leave my house. I grew tired of feeling like a minor celebrity once I left my door. More than once I was tempted to yell, “MY NAME IS NOT OBURONI!” Being hassled by men became a daily occurrence. Learning how to let them down lightly without bruising their tender male egos was a constant negotiation. I’ve been through betrayals, heartbreaks, flings and lies. But my time in Ghana has taught me invaluable lessons about myself, my future and how I wish to live from here on in.
I have made some amazing friends here. To name them all would be impossible. But the people who made the most lasting impact on my life were, without a doubt, the beach children in Kokrobite. I remember crying on the beach during my last weekend, because I knew it would probably be the last time I would see many of them again. They taught me how to dance and sing, speak Twi and truly make the most of every little miracle. I taught them to read, write, draw and think about their futures. They protected me and looked out for me. I answered their curious questions and they answered mine. These children, many of whom are completely alone, spending all day at the beach, living from meal to meal, showed me what I want to do with my life, where I want to invest my energy, where I can truly make a difference. When they came bounding towards me and wrapped me with hugs, I knew I was doing something right.
One of my sweeties at Kokrobite
Writing this now is hard for me. Knowing that tomorrow I will be so removed from such a monumental time in my life has me battling some conflicting emotions. I will miss so many aspects of Ghanaian culture – I wish I could adequately express my sadness in leaving. Instead of making a spectacle of my departure, I have decided to leave quietly. With my simple good-byes, I can only maintain the conviction in my heart that one day I will be back here again. I have begun to see the bigger picture of the world and my life, to appreciate the triumphs amongst the tragedies and forge a future deserving of everything that has been given to me during these past 8 months.
Learning to love and to lose is one of the hardest lessons in life. Like a mother molding a child into an adult, Ghana has never given up on me.
Medaase.
Celebrations at Adjiriganor Public School of "Best Teacher Awards"
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