On Whether To Sit It Out Or Dance.
October 30, 2016 § 4 Comments
A few weeks back, I got the pleasure of meeting a visiting friend of a fellow blogger. I usually don’t take reclusive self into town, but this time, I wanted to show this friend that I could and would slope past Tetteh Quarshie after 6pm. Things went relatively well. It was a bit awkward not knowing most of the people assembled, but the ever gracious host made it all feel a bit comfortable. The visiting friend was even more genial and made me wonder the last time I smiled and laughed that much.
Anyway, while I waited for any transport to take me further north to Ogbojo to my aunt’s for the night, I started wondering why dating in Accra felt so hard. I enjoyed talking to this very attractive lady. I wasn’t interested, but enjoyed hearing about her life stories, her beliefs…I think we managed to run the topical gamut during our nearly 3-hour chat session.
I enjoyed spending time with her and getting to know a bit about others who had joined into our small paper. What bothered me later was why this stuff didn’t happen more often. She was open, warm, very smart, and where I may have fumbled, she didn’t feel any need to guillotine me for my small mistakes. If anything, she felt very candid, surprisingly relatable, and even trusting. I had almost forgotten how it felt like talking to someone from a western culture.
Let’s switch a bit to my local dating pool for a second. A few months back, I met this beautiful and seemingly well-coiffed 30-yr-old at her health facility. She’d later confess that she had designs on me the moment I walked through her building’s front doors. She was single, had been disappointed by men, rarely dated. It was standard rescue symptoms. I bought it and was smitten. I also found out later that she had been pursuing me pretty hard, but my phone had been off for days. And when we finally got to talking, it became a nearly 5-hr run of just how much we clicked and fit.
I asked several times about her availability and was always reassured she was single. Anyway, things went well that night…maybe a bit too well since we managed to meet (lived in the same area) and got busy. I had been reluctant to do it, but it happened.
The next day, I learned it was all a lie. There was a boyfriend- fiancé, actually! This hadn’t been her first time cheating on him. There was also that growing list of suitors all hoping to get into her pants (sorry! “marry her”!). My perfect future partner had now become…normal.
This was your typical Ghanaian woman. I had mistaken her position as a corporate admin, education, her ass, and even her ability to mimic American lingo to believe she was a good as I’d hope for here in this town. But she was normal. The sob story was there. The boyfriend, side partners, and the monied waiting suitors were all there. We haven’t recovered from that painful reveal ever since.
So where do some of us fit in this dating culture? I’m too smart for the secretive girl because sooner or later I’d figure out her lies and women like that prefer the aloof/ignorant idiot who swallows every story she feeds him while she uses her phone to meet other men.
As much fun as the younger working service industry girl looks, she too plays the same game. And more often than not, it’s a lifestyle long woven into her DNA before unsuspecting noobs like me ever fell into their traps.
Even the good girl has her list of “friends” who sponsor her. She may not be giving it to them, but she’d have that serious boy she’d forget to mention to you, only to admit it after she’s gotten enough from you.
Then there’s the returnee/expat crowd. On some level this sect should be relatable, but here too, you’re apt to run into a blend of bitch disease. Even where you might actually hit it off with a nice one you’d meet on that rare occasion, she may not be as genial and approachable as the lady from the first scenario.
So what happens is instead of finding someone to start something with, we all fall into this gray dating pool. You can’t relate to the local; you can’t find your ideal match in your returnee crowd because they’re far too splinted and too picky to waste your energies on; and the larger pool is there only to play silly, needlessly selfish games with you.
So, my people, especially those who can relate, what do you do when you look like them but too westernized to ever fit into their dating culture?