I've been thinking about this blog for a while. Not sure what to say. I thought about a bunch of different things-- themes, if you will. Still haven't come up with anything, but, I think, I'm just going to go for it. Otherwise, this blog is going to become incredibly outdated...
The last months, weeks, and day in Ghana were incredible in so many ways, and exhausting and stressful in so many others. The last three market days I went to ended in wet, rainy nightmares, walking through inches of mud in the middle of the night to get home. I packed my days with friends, and it never seemed like enough. I passed out of my sewing apprenticeship and became an official "Madame." I was enstooled as a chief in my community, wrapped in a black and white cloth called "May God Bless You Until We Meet Again."
On my last morning, I stood at the side of road, encompanied by my closest friends. An hour and a half later I was hoisted into a big Benz bus. My bags were thrown up after me. I looked out the window-- at Lucy, Solomon, Hannah, Pigri, and Sofu, taking them in, trying so hard to absorb them into my very being and burn their images onto my retinas. Never wanting to forget anything.
I watched Ofosu pass me by and leave my sight for who knows how long, and then I hid my face in my shirt and cried. The driver turned and asked me why. I said, "Me ku fie." I'm going home.
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