Dear Ghana

Dear Ghana,

You, my dear friend, really know how to make an impression. You have taught me so much and opened my eyes to so many things.
I'm totally in love with you. I know, I know, to love a country is completely mad. You can never love me back- not in the way I love you.
You've intoxicated me with you smells and sights and sounds. The scents of tea bread and Milo in the morning make me swoon. Watching children dance and red earth rise in the wind captivates me. Hearing horns honking and the sellers in the market settles my mind (though I could do without the guinea fowl in the mornings).
You know how to celebrate, even in death. You know how to laugh and dance and sing and you always figure out a way to get me to join in.
You are beautiful. Beautiful in more ways than I can explain. Your tall grasses and flowers of astounding colours, your fruits of amazing flavours and your people of every shape and size are all a part of the wonderful kaleidescope that makes you such a beautiful place.
Now, before you let the flattery get to your head, you should know, sometimes, I can't stand you. Sometimes I want to leave you, to never see you again and to push you from my memory. When I sit at the hospital and see things that I would never see in Canada, I want to scream at you. When I see ribs on children, instead of clothes I want to cry with you.
Sometimes you cheat me.
Sometimes you take too many risks.
Sometimes you say the most aggravating and frustrating things.
You expose me to these things almost daily and you push me to a point where I think I am done with you completely.
But then you pull me back in.
Whether it be with a kiss from a child or with some really good wakeye, you manage to regain your hold on me and remind me why I love you.
You make me laugh and cry, and love and hate. Sometimes all in one day.
Ghana, I do love you. To quote Savage Garden- Truly, madly, deeply. The day that we will part from each other is coming closer, I know it will be a very sad day for me. I feel selfish in hoping it will be for you too. I feel conceited in thinking maybe you will miss me, when you have so many other things to focus on- other than a 19 year old white girl who lived in you for six months.

All I can really hope is that we will see each other again soon.

Well, that's all for now.

With much love,
Aryn Marie Otterbein

PS: Go Black Stars!!!!