On Complacency and Volunteers

Part of the reason that my blog slowed down is that after living here in Ghana for several months, my life started to have routines. I had gotten over much of the excitement of being in a “new place”.  I stopped thinking about “exploring Ghana” and just was thinking about living my life here, much as I would in the States.   

The arrival of 3 volunteers from Dartmouth in January helped with this sense of complacency.  They reminded me of all the new and exciting things Ghana had to offer.  During the time that they were here, I tried fufuo ne nkatinkwan (fufuo with groundnut soup), bought Ghanaian fabric and had clothes made, visited Cape Coast and learned about the history of the slave trade, and (for the first time) ate mangoes.  Respectively, I found those experiences 1) surprisingly tasty and no where near as scary as Katrina had led me to believe; 2) fun, relatively inexpensive, and unfortunately addicting; 3) interesting and sad, more accusatory of African slave traders than Europeans/Americans, and much larger in South America/the Caribbean than the US (not quite how I remember learning about it in school); and 4) SOOOOO GOOD – Jenn, I’m sorry for never listening all those times you tried to convince me to try mango.

Having three more girls around meant that Jamie and I were also able to indulge in some more traditional American (and not necessarily Ghanaian) pastimes.  We giggled over episodes of Sex and the City, shared experiences from our time at Dartmouth, and reminisced about all the good American food we missed.  As the volunteers were much newer to the country, we also talked a lot about Ghana, its educational system, its culture – all things that I might normally write about it my blog.  However, having discussed these issues with the girls, I found I didn’t really feel the compulsion to write it all out again. Flushing it out orally with peers gave me a sense of peace and understanding that eliminated my emotional need for a blog.

Our volunteers left in March.  Right after that, I experienced a wake of homesickness that made me realize how much I enjoyed spending time with people who have shared similar life experiences. Now, I'm not saying that it's bad to branch out, or to spend time with people who are different from you.  I think it's incredibly important. And to be honest, I thought I had done that at Dartmouth (and to a smaller extent, even in high school).  But what I didn't realize was that just by going to Dartmouth, sharing that experience of being a university student in the United States, (and being among a limited population of Americans in Ghana) all the people I met there FEEL more similar to me than different.  And I realized how comforting it is to be in a place or with people where you don't always feel different. No matter how self-confident you are, it's always nice to fit in.