nyu in ghana, me dowapaa

Today was the last day of the NYU in Ghana program - as I'm writing this, I'm sitting in my dorm room, by myself, terrified that at any moment there will be a massive raid on the compound and I will be target number one. Why am I still in my dorm when everyone else is gone? Well, Holley, Brenda and I are all staying an extra week to go to the beach and spend some more time in Accra. I want to avoid winter in Maine and try to make my skin as dark as possible. So the plan was to leave at noon today and be at the beach by tonight. We're going to Busua, which is supposed to be like heaven on earth and I am so excited to see it, but when Holley and I are involved in travel plans, nothing is ever simple.

So it was the last day - everyone is trying to see everyone and say goodbye and get everything packed and get as many hugs and last moments in as we can. The past week has been incredibly emotional with final projects and papers and packing, and as Maggie said, we are all on an emotional cliff. The other day I couldn't find a match to light the stove and make french fries and I nearly started crying - this is a true story.

So I woke up this morning, or rather I was woken up by Maggie, and realize that not only do I have an absolutely terrible headache, but I can barely open my eyes and my skin is burning hot. Mama Maggie took my temperature and surprise! - 38.9 degrees Celcius (for all you Americans, that is a lovely 102 degrees). I felt like Beth March when she got scarlet fever. I looked like shit, I felt like shit, and I was supposed to be packed and on a tro tro in two hours <--- something that did not happen. Because we are obrunis, the first thing we think whenever we get sick is that it's malaria. I am terrible at remembering to take my malaria medication - how are you supposed to remember to do something every day! - so while everyone went to eat wakye and visit Marjorie one last time, me and my CRA Douglass took a nice little trip to Nyaho Hospital, which Douglass told me was the best private hospital in Accra. I wasn't impressed. I was there for four hours. We waited in reception, we waited in the 'temperature room', we waited in the waiting room, we waited at the laboratory. I've been tested for malaria before and it was so painful, but the doctor today, who was probably about fifty, told me that this one wouldn't hurt because he'd mixed in sugar and honey and all that sweet stuff. Charming. He then told me that he'd come to America with me and I should pack him in my luggage.

I got my test results and they came back negative, although the doctor told me that the pills I take could affect the results. It was quite a letdown - if I'm going to be this sick I want to be able to put a name to what I have, not say "it's maybe malaria it's like a virus or the flu or something like that I'm on antibiotics". Especially if it meant missing everyone's last day. Which was incredibly not okay - it is so surreal that this experience is over. The fact that tomorrow nearly everyone will be back in America and in all different places and eating McDonalds is too strange for me to understand when I am still sitting here - well, laying here - in Ghana. It's never going to be like this again - although we'll all see each other in New York and all of us want to return to Ghana, it's never going to be the same as the past four months have been. Which, if I had to sum it up - was amazing. I'm lucky that I was too sick to go to the hospital and say goodbye to everyone - it was hard enough saying goodbye to everyone from the couch. The past four months have been filled with beautiful moments and wonderful people - I feel so lucky to have had the chance to experience it. I still have a week and a half left, but it already feels very different being here without everyone else - sitting in my dorm room without Maggie across from me just doesn't feel right, and while it's sad, and change is never easy, I mostly feel grateful to have been here.

And now I must continue my aspirin regimen so that I can make it through a seven hour tro tro ride tomorrow. Busua - you better be worth it.