I want to preface this post by saying I hope no one finds me
to be ungrateful after reading the upcoming blog entry. I am so grateful and
blessed to have had this experience in Africa that most people will never
experience in their lifetime. It has been (so far) a great learning experience
and will serve me very well in my future. However, I feel it might seem to my
readers that Africa is all peaches and cream with a few funny mishaps, when
really it is the hardest thing I have ever been through in my life. A few
people were surprised that I am excited to leave this country and I realized
that my blog doesn’t convey all sides of things. I have written it to share my
experiences with everyone and to give everyone a fun, good read, and somewhere
along the way I forgot to mention some harsh realities. Anyway, here is the
entry.
I have been in Cape Coast since Friday and it has been
really nice here. More on that later. Despite the nice trip I am having, most all
I think about is how I only have 9 days left in this damn country and how I can’t
wait to get home to my family and boyfriend and friends and my car and A/C and
yogurt and grocery stores and closet and fast internet and comfy bed, among
1,000,000 other things. The first week here was really hard for me. By the end
of the first week I was crying on the phone to my parents and wishing I could
go home. My friend and confidant, Emma, went to Africa last summer, and when I
called her she said “This is only your first week. Give it a chance, I promise
it will get better.” And she was right, it did get better….sort of. I have come
to realize that here in Africa, at least for me, better is just synonymous with
“easier.”
I have become used to the fact that we run out of water all
the time. I have become used to the fact that I have to shower with freezing
cold water from a bucket, sometimes leaving me with leftover soap residue in my
hair. I have become used to the fact that we pretty much never have power and
that I should never assume I will be able to cook anything I want when I want
it. There is never any food to eat except fruit and oats (if we are lucky
enough to have hot water) and bread, everything else is always too spicy, and
my stomach hurts almost every day – but I have become fairly used to all of
this. While I have not become used to the heat or humidity still, I have
learned to deal with it a bit better. I have learned to deal with the starving
feeling in my stomach a bit better. I also find it slightly easier to sleep
through the rooster’s crow and dog’s bark and the goats and sheep bleating
their little hearts out.
However, the reality of things is that “easier” is not
actually synonymous with “better,” and that things never really got better. I
just learned to deal with them. I love teaching, but other than that, the days
are long and boring and hot and starving and complicated. I have posted a lot
of the good, fun, cool stuff that I have been doing, but I don’t think that
anyone realizes these are very short parts of very long days, and that every
day there is also a multitude of crap piling up.
I think a major part of the problem is that it seems like
people here don’t actually give a crap about anything most of the time. I
wanted to go to Africa, to somewhere I was needed. I wanted to teach in schools
that needed help and deserved help and impact a community that is having
trouble on its own. Then I got here, and realized that the reason they need
teachers is because the other teachers are too damn lazy to show up to work
every day. And the reason the community needs help is because the people just
sit around all day and do nothing. The reason the kids can’t read English by
age 15 is because their parents don’t care about their education and take them
out of school to help them farm a few days a week. So this just makes me think…What the hell is wrong with these people?
Why the hell am I here?
It’s very frustrating. None of this is the fault of the
kids, and most of the kids aren’t lazy, and they listen to me and want to
learn, which is why I love most of my kids that I teach. But this country’s
rural areas have a serious problem with discipline and service and caring about
results. How can you become a developed nation if your teachers don’t show up
to teach the kids? I am lucky enough to teach in a school where all the teachers
(except one – can’t be perfect) are there every day to teach the kids. The rest
of the schools generally have teachers who only show up sometimes. When they feel like it.
I wonder a lot whether or not if I had been put in an
orphanage of starving children somewhere if I would feel this way. I have a
feeling I wouldn’t feel this way at all. I don’t think I would complain as much
about the bucket showers and lack of electricity if I felt like I was making a
difference…but I barely feel that here. I feel like everything I have done for
these kids is going to go away when I go away, because the lack of effort in
the community will just swallow my effort whole, like a python to a mouse.
Also, despite the fact that Ghanaian people are generally
very nice and helpful, a lot of people are just damn obnoxious and rude. I’m so
sick of it. I’m also very sick of being touched…you don’t just touch people you
don’t know! That would not fly in America, and for a reason! I’m not trying to
say “America is so much better than Ghana,” but I definitely think we have an
upper hand on the courtesies and politeness. People barely ever say “thank you”
here. Also, their customer service is HORRIBLE, and people just grab at you or
poke you and think it’s okay. None of that is okay, and I miss the U.S. where
people realize that. I have decided it’s not snobby to expect good customer
service. Anyone who thinks it is, needs to come to Ghana. Anyone who thinks
Americans overreact to that kind of stuff too much, has not been to Ghana. Common
sense also just goes out the window here. Don’t ever expect it.
In the end, I’m just tired of Africa. I want my schedule
back and my reliable food and water and power and not have to deal with people
pointing out the fact that I’m white every second of every damn day.
