Caribbean Thoughts

by Carol Mitchell

Gone Native

I was at the children’s school waiting patiently outside of the administrative offices … ok, not so patiently, but anyway, I was waiting to get a form signed and stamped.

A caucasian lady came in towing a small boy. She looked around her at the many closed doors. She approached me.

“Where can I get information about registering?” she asked with frustration in her voice.

I pointed her to the correct door and smiled to myself. I remember being there, when everything was unfamiliar. I was harassed by all the things that needed to get done and frustrated by how slowly it was all happening.

When I first arrived here, it took me five weeks at least to get my internet working. This time, it took five hours to get it up and running and then a small … shall we say contribution … to get even better service than I had before.

I look at all the new faces, women protectively shepherding their children into vehicles driven by drivers that they hardly know; looking with amazement at the traffic, hawkers selling on the roads and scenes like this photo; wondering where to shop and eat and I feel oh so happy that I am past that. I am almost native!

On the other hand, I try not to be too complacent. A wise friend said to me:
“In your first year, you know nothing about Ghana.
In the second year you think you know everything
In the third year you recognise that you have learnt nothing at all.

Advertisements

1 Comment»

  Abbie wrote @

You record everything so vividly. I can picture everything. Lovely!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: