The surmountable trials of Lady Ghana

A low kind of day


I have hardly been here two months that it’s already started: I get annoyed. I am irritated at our house maid who comes in two hours late and starts her working day by sitting at our dinner table to eat her spaghettis using our plates and crockery. I repress a silent curse when an incompetent receptionist keeps me waiting while finishing reading her friend’s status on Facebook (and then goes on commenting on it), all this in front of me and without shame. The word “idiot” slips off my mouth too quickly when I’m driving.

Yet life hasn’t been so bad. For the first time in years of moving out to new countries, I almost immediately found a job to keep me busy until Christmas. Our heavy baggage has arrived in one piece and our house now looks cosy and familiar. And the sun shines EVERY DAY.

But comes the evening, anxiety starts. I don’t look forward to tomorrow. I feel lonely, uninspired and tearful, and I wake up with a heavy heart. I know the symptoms for it’s happened before – I think I’m going through a phase of slight depression. And it’s got nothing to do with Ghana, rather with new beginnings.  I am simply not good at it. I need to feel settled, to have a purpose, to know people and to be known. It’s not about getting invited to a party on a Friday night, but the comfort of having a few people with whom you don’t have to try, people who get you.

I promise the next post will be more cheerful, but for now let me be plain honest with you: I don’t like it here. I guess the first step is to accept how I feel and make some small changes, among which:

1. stop taking Lariam, those pesky anti-malaria tablets that have been known for causing depression as a side-effect;

2. read something inspiring, like Mister Pip, by Lloyd Jones;

3. look at something beautiful, like those tiny red flowers, sole survivors of our feeble gardening efforts;

4. drink some Rwandan coffee, freshly brewed in my French press;

5. pray and hold on the hope that God knows what he is doing with us here.

And be patient rather than resigned.


6 thoughts on “A low kind of day

  1. Thanks for posting such an honest blog! Moving to a new place is always exciting but not always easy. Tomorrow’s a new day! 🙂

  2. Miss you guys!
    I support stopping larium.
    Malaria is just another ‘experience’.

    What kind of work did you find?

    Its amazing the amount of solace that can be found inside a good press of coffee!

    We are feeling very limboesque, as our UK visa process drags on . . . delayed another week due to Nepali holidaze.

    We are enjoying a bit of domestic space, as now that my UN contract is officially over, the guards are gone, and even out maid is on vacation . . . always a perplexing issue.


  3. I too support stopping Lariam. I cried regularly for months in Burkina Faso when I was on it, and actually the phrase you wrote — “I don’t look forward to tomorrow. I feel lonely, uninspired and tearful, and I wake up with a heavy heart.” — describes exactly how I felt on Lariam. Don’t take another pill!

    Hugs from afar, but from a friend who thinks she understands.


  4. Come on…I know new beginnings are a lot to take…i am 1 year down the road and still feeling miserably…But…this is just not u…Cheer up…:)

  5. I love you… and your authenticity. THANK YOU for letting it breathe in this space. It’s a beautiful thing.

  6. You have a way of putting things into perspective in a very honest, real and humble way. I love that you are already taking action to make it better! Praying for you friend!

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