Archive for the ‘Too many men…too much time’ Category

The past week I’ve been lounging on the beach doing absolutely nothing. Well, maybe not nothing since I’ve been fending off the amorous attention of unwanted suitors. About two weeks ago, I began to make up an imaginary boyfriend, thinking that would deter the constant marriage proposals. But how could a boyfriend allow me to travel alone to Ghana! Why don’t I have a Ghanaian boyfriend while I’m in-country? This is the logic of Ghanaian men. Ghana is either super-Christian or super-Muslim. Both religions don’t really take kindly to gay people, so I’ve been pretty closeted with locals.

I spend five days in a lovely beach town, Busua. Unlike many hotels that practically sequester tourists, I am right in the middle of this fishing village. Young men play soccer on the beach. Young girls and women sell peanuts and fruit for pennies. Men bring the catch of the day to sell to the hotel, including squirming lobsters and mammoth fish.

There is one main street and I meet many locals, including men. The constant complaining about being single and wanting a woman gets old, fast. They all want a foreign girlfriend, which also doesn’t sit right with me. There are some men I begin to avoid, or always make sure another male friend sits between me and these frisk, almost desperate men. I become friends with the hotel manager, and he is always bemoaning his single status. My friends decide to set him up and after the leave Busua, email me photos of the intended woman. He seems excited to meet her, and starts to plan their life together. I head off to another beach town, and he promises to visit me on his day off. The day I leave Busua, he suddenly starts to send me romantic texts, I am the one for him, I will make his life perfect, He will give his life to me, on and on. I almost wonder if it’s a joke since it’s totally out of the blue. After consulting with my friends on the etiquette of coming out via text, I break the bad news to him. He still doesn’t get it and continues to beg and plead with me. I repeatedly tell him not to visit me, and almost alert the hotel security guards. In a display of sheer cowardice, I leave my phone off on the day he had originally planned on visiting me, worried about getting into an uncomfortable conversation. He doesn’t contact me and the crisis is averted. However, awkward moments are on the horizon since I’m returning to his hotel next week! Fortunately, I’ll be with a friend and she’ll ensure the boundaries are crystal clear.

I laugh at the wackiness of it all. The irony is I’m finding it harder to call myself a lesbian since I’ve had so many attractions to men in Southeast Asia. But how the heck do I explain all of that to these crazy Ghanaian guys? For now, it’s easier to tell them I have a fake boyfriend or that I only date women.

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