Mornings are the toughest part of my day here. That is not because of the incessant crowing of roosters or the cacophonous hustle and bustle of the early risers (nearly everyone, by the way, is an early riser here). No, the primary source of my discontent is the vivid, Malarone-abetted dreams that visit me each night. They are never nightmarish but quite the opposite. Usually I am in America (although last night I was a daring speedster in "Tokyo"--which was, more precisely, a mix of the bridge scene in Mission Impossible 3, Brooklyn, Miami, and maybe the looping suspended causeways of DC--hellbent on making it ontime for my BA flight to Accra) and usually I am having a grand old time with family, friends, and the occasional obscure acquantance with whom I haven't spoken in months. It is in these subconscious meanderings that my homesickness resides. Each morning I open my eyes wretched to discover that outside these safe walls is the rampant hunger and poverty of urban Africa.
Some days I lay in bed wishing I had instead chosen to spend these six months on the posh streets of Madrid or the beer-soaked dormitories of GW. I don't attribute this momentary lapse in resolve to my conditions here in Ghana, but more to the unattainable fantasy worlds I create each night. The first few mornings, alone in my hotel rooms, I was paralyzed by this daybreak damper on my convictions, lying in bed for hours on end, but since arriving in Teshie three weeks ago I shake these tepid thoughts long before the brush hits my teeth each morning.
A level of homesickness is to be expected in every journey--and for a first world kid on a third world mission I'd expected it to be a potent presence in my life here. So, to that end, I am pleased by the form my longing has taken. Each night I get to partake in vivd adventures and, thus, my waking hours are almost entirely unburdened by homesickness. Perhaps, I can attribute this uplifting twist on a depressing force to the warmness of the Ghanaian people or perhaps I'm just not really homesick yet...
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I'm looking forward to the street festivals in Accra for Christmas and New Years and I promise to lug my camera (and spare batteries) to these events. Ken had planned on going to Germany yesterday, but decided against it last minute. Instead, maybe we'll put some of that money towards a fat Christmas goat and a large bowl of fufu. Mmmmmm sounds so good that I might just have to go eat lunch right now! Bye
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