Where Goodbye is a verb

In Ghana, you’re not going to say goodbye to someone, you’re going to goodbye them. And it seems that now, in an incredibly painful and unfortunate situation, I am goodbying Ghana.

Not painful in the sense that I am in physical danger, please don’t worry like that. The simple, letterhead-worthy explanation is that EWB has recently made the decision that for my own safety, my time in Ghana needs to end earlier than scheduled. Based on consultations with doctors here and in Canada, and based on input from EWB staff in Ghana and in Canada, Trevor, the JF coordinator, has decided that I do not have the physical ability to deal with potential stresses like Malaria or Typhoid, and that the risk to my health is too great for me to finish the final month of my placement.

I was, and am, incredibly upset. I spent several days flip-flopping between tears, frustration, acceptance, and fighting. I looked for any possible way to convince him that this is too much, the risk is not that bad, I would fight malaria the same as anyone else. But despite all my fighting, the decision remains, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I think, and I hope, that I’ve finally accepted it and can spend the remainder of my time here (until Friday) enjoying everything I love about Ghana and making sure I properly goodbye all my coworkers, friends, and family.

It’s incredible though, that my love for this place, for this people, is strong enough that it causes this much pain. I know now how much I love Ghana, how happy I am here. I’ve realized that the relationships I’ve made are so special, are something that won’t disappear with an ocean crossing, and I’m so happy to have experienced all that I have. On Saturday, sitting in the middle seat in a taxi destined for Bolga for a night out with EWB friends, I had a pretty intense realization. It took me almost two months to even like Ghana, and now, I’m just starting to love Ghana. It took a lot of self control to prevent an explosion of sobs in said taxi.

But it’s true, the way I see things has changed so much. Everything is beautiful, everyone is beautiful. The strangest things make me so happy – the names on the backs of taxis and tro-tros, “God is love” or “Such is life” or even “The Black Man” (that one is common, I even saw one today while biking to work), the peculiarities of Ghanaian English, “chop” meaning eat and “this thing” being used to refer to absolutely anything, often impossible to figure out what thing they’re referring to. I love greeting people when I see them, I love sleeping outside in the fresh air, I love eating tz with my family (even with nasty okru stew). I love seeing the AEAs confidently cover an AAB card, love meeting with the Director to discuss progress. I love knowing people who work so hard, are so proud of what they do, and are dedicated to helping others. I love the conversations about Ghana’s future, what needs to happen, what people are doing, and I love that I know people who are driving those changes.

I even love Gbedellembilisi, the home of ridiculous rice valleys that have been the bane of my existence for the past two months. I’m sad that I won’t have a chance to go back and see the rice germinating.
Director said it well: “They have unsettled her physically, psychologically, emotionally, all the allies you can think of”. It really means a lot to me to see him so upset by this news, even more so than the rest of the staff, because it shows me that he cares about me, about the work I’ve been doing, and has truly appreciated working with me over the past two months. We had an intense meeting, director, myself, Ben (extension officer), and Trevor, where Director shared his thoughts on the decision and the way it was carried out - in short, he was fairly unimpressed. The meeting was successful in clearing the air though; thankfully, he’s reconsidering his vow to never work with EWB again.

But, moving forward, it looks like I’ll be able to somehow continue working with EWB’s MoFA team while in Canada. Here, Ben is prepared to train AEAs on the rest of AAB, and they’ll continue the program with their groups. I’ll be able to call sometimes to check in on their progress, and there’s a possibility that they can work with nearby districts to get the rest of the required training for sustainability. I’m also going to help Megan, my coach, with a new initiative she’s trying out, an idea around AEA learning partnerships. And I can use everything I’ve learned while working in Sandema to contribute to the future of AAB, giving feedback and input based on my experiences implementing the program.

There’s really no way for me to properly describe how I feel, but I can honestly say that this is probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to deal with – which also says a lot about how lucky I’ve been, that I haven’t had intense stresses in my life. I’m doing my best to enjoy my last week here, and to try and wrap up my work nicely. I made banana pancakes for my family last night, which were pretty delicious if I say so myself, and we also enjoyed some nara, roasted millet harvested fresh from their field. The crops are growing so well that I could probably reach over and pick some maize from the spot on the steps where I brush my teeth – the chickens will always have minty fresh breath from picking at the toothpaste I spit over the wall. They’re just now planting the sweet potato vines (see picture!), and the fresh okru (not near as nasty as dried) will soon be ready. I will miss that house so so much, it’s an incredibly beautiful place with wonderful people, and leaving them my bicycle will not even come close to thanking them for all they’ve given me.

Picture: Ajabui John (my host father) and his amazing sweet potato vines - vines like that are not common. When I first arrived, they were only covering the top of the structure that is now completely obscured. Now he's started to cut pieces of them and plant them in massive mounds of dirt, which are necessary because the bedrock is too close to the soil surface, and by September they will be delicious sweet potatoes. And no, I don't wear that shirt ALL the time, though it is my favorite.

So that’s where I’m at now. I hope that as I have time to reflect more, I'll be able to share my thoughts on all that Ghana has taught me, lessons on happiness, love, trust, dedication, patience (the bus is "on the way coming" for two hours) and so much more.

I’ve gotten so much support from the EWB family here, it’s been amazing, and I’m so grateful to be part of that family. So thanks, everyone, for helping me, supporting me, telling me I’m strong, appreciating what I’ve done and inspiring me to do more.

So for my friends in Builsa, I'm sorry I can't goodbye you proper, but I hope we can meet again some day, small time.

Anne