I've moved into the spare room in the flat that a fellow University of Ottawa-ian is living with an Australian expat and another Canadian. I still have about half my things at Kobby's as I have not yet been given official approval by my hosting organization to live there. I have a meeting with them this Friday, during which I'm assuming we'll discuss the fall-out with my last host, and whether I am "allowed" to stay living in the flat. By this Friday, I'll have only a week left so I doubt they'll try to fix me with yet another host family for the sake of being nearer to work, but there may be problems with me being at the flat, since the organization is built upon the connection between exchange students and hosts. I can only hope they empathize with how much it sucks to sit in a sweaty trotro for 2 hours at the beginning and end of every day and let me stay where I am. I also desperately hope I am not blamed or criticized too harshly for the termination of my homestay in Dome...
Work, at least, continues to be fantastic. I've written the first draft of the proposal to N.E.D. to fund a leadership and political involvement training program for women here at the Women's Law and Human Rights Institute and moved on to editing and reformatting a training manual for republication.
To update you on how I'm doing, I can tell you I no longer wake up and find my surroundings surprising. And using trotros have become totally normal. I don't even think twice about doing laundry or showering with buckets. My fascination with the sheep, goats, chickens, and dogs everywhere has worn off. The little shops along the roads are extremely convenient and going to a grocery store is a huge hassle. I can't imagine living in any other temperature that what it is here. I definitely can't imagine blow drying my hair or putting on makeup. I've gotten really good at French-braiding my hair so it's off my face and neck. I'm breaking out fairly consistently on my face, yet the frequency of times I forget to look in the mirror is constantly increasing, and, likely as a result, I feel comfortable and attractive pretty much all the time. I eat lots of whatever I want, including ice cream 3 times a day if I feel like it (and I often do). In fact, I rarely let myself get to the point of feeling hungry I eat so much. My mouth doesn't burn quite as violently when I eat Ghanian food, and in fact I was quite disappointed by my PB&J sandwich today with everyone around me eating local foods. I had it on whole wheat bread and it tasted dry and cardboard-y and I can't wait to go buy a loaf of (white) butter bread. My digestion is completely back to normal. I eat rice with my hand because switching to a fork is too much of a hassle when you're eating chicken. (Plus forks are just stupid!. No, think about it, if it doesn't need a spoon, why bother? The tangs are just little fingers anyway...) It's weird to see white people. The clothes I brought now seem really boring and monochromatic. But, most of all, I'm shocked that I've only been here six weeks. I'm not sure if it feels longer or shorter, but something about that portion of time just doesn't seem accurate. Even more shocking is the thought that I'll be back in Canada in two weeks. I was convinced I'd never adapt to living here, that I'd feel a constant anxiety to get out of here until the second before I boarded my flight out of Accra. But now, I'm starting to feel a little sad knot in the pit of my stomach when I think about all I'm leaving behind...
Regardless, I look forward to seeing you all.
A special bundle of love from across the big blue to my Gramma. I hope you're healthy and doing well.
Love always,
Em xoxo