I wasn’t prepared for this. I guess I only thought of the concept of Africa, the dream fairytale version. I didn’t think of how I would feel if I actually left my country for a month, all by myself, and lived in a strange, scary, dirty, terrible world, all by myself.
I just got thrown into it. I was traveling, all excited and crazy about being a world traveler, but I guess world traveler is just a fancy term that makes you feel special. In reality, you get off the plane and you can’t even believe what you’re seeing, even if you’ve seen it all in movies and you totally know what a third world country is like. In your head, there is a picture, but you get there and it’s exactly the same but just so real and so scary. The plane was all fancy, filled with technology, freezing cold, and just extremely American. And you get off in Africa and everything is run down and just wrong in my mind because I’m so used to America. The biggest airport in the entire country is a few rooms- no good architecture or building shapes. The biggest city, the capital of the country, is covered in dirty air, and garbage, and no big buildings. Everything is just run down, and there are people trying to sell things to you everywhere. All the cars are like what we would laugh at that really poor or redneck people have; cars with different colored doors and holes in the windows, all covered in dirt. All the stuff here is like that. It’s unbelievable that people live this way. I thought I was terribly poor. And this all seems so cliché of me to say as an American. How could I not realize the poverty of the rest of the world? And how could I think I am poor? But even though I am fully aware, you just don’t realize how it is going to make you feel when you get there. I had an image, but in the image everyone was so perfectly poor, if that even makes sense. Everyone was poor, but it was so nice and well organized. But in real life, when you’re poor there is dirt everywhere and you live in a small shack the size of my kitchen, with no windows.
All of the towns are kind of like the fair. There are booths everywhere- not really shops, just booths. Nothing is pretty or good here, according to my narrow perspective in this moment. There is no comfort; nothing that a typical American needs in order to feel okay. So when I got here, I cried all night.
I got out at the airport, waited around for a while, and then got in a van and we drove around for the rest of the day, trying to get “home” and I didn’t get home until 8 at night even though I arrived in Ghana at 10 am. And you get home and nothing is okay because no one that you know or love is within reach at all. Everyone is literally an entire ocean away and on the other side of the earth. Literally. And I’m panicking. I know I’ll be okay, but right now I’m actually having a panic attack cause I’ve never felt so stranded and alone. Ever. I thought college was scary. And here I am realizing that I’m not fit for the world. I thought I was so legitimate, that I could do anything or go anywhere because I’m ambitious. Ambition and spunk don’t get you through a lonely, terrified night. I can’t even contact anyone. I cant even text Jake.
At a time when people can’t find food, I just want to text Jake. I’m pathetic.
I’ve never been more embarrassed to be me. But I’ve never had to love myself more in this world where no one loves me. I miss home already. What have I gotten myself into?
Can I be this person? Is my whole future wrong? This is the future I’ve always wanted: traveling the world, other cultures…. Maybe it’s just because it’s my first time.
I think if I had one person with me that I knew, it would be okay.
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