The days are just packed

Seriously? Has it been a year already?

Where does the time go? Of course, the elderly are expected to say things like this to express their amazement at the passage of years. Yet Mr. and Mrs. O have been looking at the calendar and exclaiming the same thing. Already, it has been over ten months since their arrival. To put this in perspective, Mr. O’s life-altering stay the first time around had already wrapped up by this point (and he had much to show for it). But when one has a job, a house, friends, swimming lessons and errands, free time gets chipped away and excursions tend to be a once-a-month(ish) occasion. Driving one’s personal car, sitting in an office and living in a compound does not lend itself to wacky anecdotes like flaming tro-tros and random foreign visitors..

The output on this blog has certainly lessened in recent months. The plain truth is that the family is too busy living to stop and reflect. And that is okay. Staying in and watching a crappy movie is more boring than a random night out with strange characters, but also important for not burning out. Surfing expeditions are important, but so are children’s swimming lessons at the nearby pool.

Yet there are so many reasons to write. To document, to remember and even to give a view into a tiny corner of the world for those who would not normally see it. Mr. O has been noticing the usual African headlines: war, disease, poverty. And yet nobody talks about the sage professor teaching white kids about colonialism, the Norwegian-inspired waffle lady, or the people producing fantastic shea butter products and leather shoes. If Ghana is to be documented, it needs more voices (even whiny expat ones).