The Brain Teaser that’s my Handwritten Ghana Journal
A Journalist’s Diary
I visualized the process of digitizing my old Ghana journal much differently from how it has been playing out over the last few months. Instead of smooth sailing across the wire-bound sheets and steady progress, I struggle with the document, which describes one of the most exciting months in my life.
It isn’t that I didn’t expect trouble. I did. I knew the state of the journal. How much time had passed since those days was self-evident. I expected tricky moments but saw no reason to doubt steady progress.
The reasons for my snail’s pace are many. The fragile document seems (at the moment) incomplete, the handwriting frustrates me, and finding time to sit down for this project is limited, and when I do, I expect progress. When that progress doesn’t happen, there is more frustration, which leads to commitment issues.
I have faint memories of my Ghana life that haven’t yet manifested in my old writing. Those will make for good blog posts, not to mention the fuel they’ll provide for the larger writing project behind all of this labor.
I need to unlock my old writing to ignite that first flame. Instead of writing from memory, unsupported by evidence, today I’ll write about a few hints at what might be coming if I ever get through the project. Along the way, I’ll explain the delays a bit more and use the writing of those lines to work towards a strategy, which is hopefully going to help me resolve my commitment issues.
The original plan for today’s post was to write about the paper that wasn’t.
I vividly remember that we spent one Wednesday frantically trying to finish an edition of The Trust. We hadn’t dotted all the i’s and crossed all the t’s when our editors sent us home after dark.
I remember additional text messages or calls about locating text documents and pictures on the way home.
I also remember coming to the patio newsroom the next morning, expecting to hold the fruit of our labor in my hands but feeling the sting of the editor’s long-winded explanation of a technical issue that killed the entire edition.
The data at my disposal helped me narrow things down. It must have been the August 21 edition that never saw the day of light.
But my skim-reading sessions of that journal section don’t corroborate that. I searched the other Publishing Wednesday’s aftermaths, even though I know it’s nearly impossible what I’m looking for could have happened on those days.
The limited time I can dedicate to this project and the daunting outlook of deciphering the remaining pages have repeatedly made me throw in the towel before I get anywhere. When every word looks like a foreign language I can’t read, it kills whatever motivation I might have had.
If I can’t find things I know should be there, it’s stressful because I want those memories back and because I want to write about them again.
Another shadow memory describes one of the last days in Ghana. I think. Without any duties for The Trust on the agenda, I joined my roommate for a day at his work placement. Jon worked at an orphanage. Thinking about that day brings me back to a day filled with kindness and happiness that surprised me.
The kids had a basketball game that day. I photographed and collected information for an article that never materialized.
The good news is that I’ve already found strong passages while skimming through the yet-to-be-digitized days. I’m looking forward to spending more time with them. Finding that writing gave me new hope for the project and an inkling about how I may just get through it.
I also hope to unearth details about good-bye lunches.
Jon stayed a few days past my time, so we bid farewell by visiting a local restaurant. And The Trust took all of us to a slightly fancier establishment with typical Ghanaian food — or was that at the beginning when another batch of volunteers exited the program? Whatever the occasion, I remember a wonderfully culture-rich gathering with like-minded people.
And there were certificates. There definitely were certificates as thank you for four weeks of work. I must not forget the editor’s book of poetry that came with his signature and a special request.
The early days of the journal should free color details from the hectic and emotional voter registration drives I visited. The later days contain details on a bodged headline that changed the meaning of one of my sports articles and speaks to the many pitfalls of cross-cultural communications.
Besides those sticker items that I still partly recollect, my writing should bring back various observations of life in Ghana, from a water sachet purchase that almost saw me pay for 20 little bags of water without receiving even a single drop at the moment to moments from social evenings that the hosting organization held. Those included game nights we dreaded going to but then enjoyed and movie nights with the most peculiar private cinemas.
What I’ve just realized: writing these lines rekindled my curiosity and drive to make the time to decipher and transfer the remaining chapters of my journal. And what I’ll probably need to do to make it happen: take a deep breath, take it one page at a time, and translate what I can. If I approach it relaxed, I can let the memories and records come to me, one at a time. I can work from within myself. Maybe I can also soak up tips for better handwriting decryption practices.
With that, I’ll set Ghana updates aside for a while. I hope to bring a decent follow-up in mid-March. Later this week, I’ll share a photography workflow change that connects to my Cost-Benefit Analysis from late last year.
