Some thoughts

So, last week i was rather morbid, its funny what sickness does to your moods. But now I've had some antibiotics and I'm peachy yet again. So here is the positive perspective of travelling and experiencing a new culture- even if it is the not so good things. Being in Ghana and away from home I feel a kind of independence and freedom that i've never found at home. At home i was constrained by familiarity, by the dictates of a social setting I had always known and was disinclined to stray from, because it seems unnecessary when there is such comfort within it. In a sense, it is like being limited in knowledge and experience because you are trapped by routine and expectation. For example, I moved on to university from higheschool because I assumed it was the next logical step, yet I had no preference or idea as to what I wanted to study. I merely had a mixed cradle of study options that fell into at random, and happened to stumble into studying journalism based on my TER. I could have done so many things but I did the most common, most expected step and It hasn't fulfilled me or provided me with direction. Over here, my eyes have opened from that slumber and the allure of trying new things has drawn me in.

I have little more direction than I did before I left Adelaide, but I don't feel as confined as I once did. The culture over here, which is so disparate from my own, and even meeting diverse people from all around the globe who have come here with different motivations and different goals is an amazing experience. Some things i find unpalatable and can't reconcile but at the same time if i had never come here I would probably have never comprehended anything outside my own little box. The world is a much bigger place that academia and google can't do justice. Ghana, which supposes itself to be a democracy, is riddled with corruption and underdevelopment. The police take bribes, rich officials live luxury lifestyles while the a lot of people live in squallid and terrible conditions. Seeing village life in contrast to city life in Ghana is a stark and disturbing reality. I could never live permanently the way I did in the village without running water or an actual toilet but to some extent I preferred it to living in Accra. For one, the pollution was less, there were less people, less invasion into your personal space and it felt calm. In Accra, I constantly feel dirty and I'm confronted by Ghanaians who want to tug me this way and that. Friendliness is great, but when you're exhausted or busy it can be tiresome. I like talking to people but there is a point where you don't want to talk or be friends with random strangers.

Freedom. To act without inhibitions and fear of judgement was an elusive desire in my days of Oz. Because no matter how freely I thought I was acting or no matter how much I thought I was doing what I wanted there was always a part of me that was considering what people around me were thinking. I regret throughout primary school and highschool participating indirectly in the isolation of those who were considered different because I didn't have the strength of character to shrug off and defy the majority who essentially bullied people. I can't remember precisely if I was ever directly involved in tormenting or teasing these different individuals who dared to be themselves, but I feel somehow I would have been because its a big part of my nature to follow. Even if I abstained from being involved in the cruelty personally, i know with certainty that I was there and witnessed it with little protest. But now more than ever I appreciate the people who are different, and who have that courage and comfort in themselves to say fuck you to the people who don't accept who they are. They are the people to be friends with because they move in their own way, and have their own appreciation for life and living that is refreshing because it isn't a mere synchronisation with those around them. My mother is one of these people. I, and many people, jokingly call her eccentric and crazy. But she is free in who she is. She has an immovable faith, an unabashed love for gossip, an inflexibility in her opinions and values and a mouth that could talk for days if you let it. If she listened to me and others around her she might be compelled to change who she is and that would be a shame. I think one of her strangest eccentricities, that I can always remember her having, is a strange habit she has when smoking. she claims not to like the smell of smoke in her hair and when she goes outside for a cigarette, she wraps a 'smoke towel' around her head to cover her hair. Its a difficult thing to explain to strangers why your mother goes outside at varying times looking like Mary. But its funny, and its her. Sometimes, she emabarasses the hell out of me, other times she frustrates me beyond the point of reason but she simultaneously guides and challenges me to become stronger and better. Partially, my strong opinions i have inheritted from her. Not her crazy notions which I am usually opposed to, but her stubborness and inability to be worng are definitely reflected in my personality.

Well, I'm about to head off to a reggae party at the beach, to do some crazy dancing. The 'toilets' at Labadi are reminiscent of the hills- i have to squat behind a canoe on the beach meters from dancers and only partially hidden by people wandering down the beach. Definitely going to have to wear a dress to preserve some of my dignity. So I'll leave my blog here.