Criticizing the Country You Live In: Ghana

What stands out to me is that the first love of a place always fades.

By Neil Solomon · 2 min read

Picture a couple named Joan and Walter. In their first weeks in Ghana, everything felt bright. The people were kind, the food was new, and the days felt full. Months later, the dust is on everything. Small jobs take longer than planned. They find themselves saying things at dinner that they would not say aloud to a neighbour.

I read one personal post that was titled around dust that dims the romance. The writer sounded disillusioned, and also honest. I like that. It is the kind of feeling people often hide because they worry it makes them ungrateful.

What stands out to me is that the first love of a place always fades. That is not a verdict on the place. It is how it works with any new home. The shine of the early weeks is partly just newness.

What matters, I think, is what we do with the complaint. There is a difference between noticing something hard and deciding a whole country is the problem. Dust is dust. It is real, it is annoying, and it can be named without turning it into a story about the people who live there.

Joan and Walter had a short talk about it.

"I'm tired of the dust," Joan said.

"So am I," Walter said. "Is it the dust, or is it that we're tired?"

That second question is a good one. Often the thing we complain about is a stand-in for something else: missing family, feeling out of place, a long week. It is worth asking which.

There is also the question of audience. Venting to a partner or a close friend can be a relief. Venting in a group of other newcomers can turn into a habit, where each complaint invites another. After a while the group's view of the country becomes quite narrow. Venting in front of neighbours who live there can sting, and it can close doors.

I do not think the answer is to stay cheerful at all costs. I think the answer is to let the disappointment be real, and to keep looking for what is still good. Both can sit in the same week.