MacMillan Ladies

The internet lines were cut over two weeks ago when i seemed to fall off the face of the earth. i’ve returned for now but will be returning to the US on Monday. more follow up pictures when i return so check out the blog a few more times next week for pictures. Love Christine

Ghana 3

Thursday morning got going quickly with two extra sisters in the house from Nigeria as we prepared ourselves for the drive to Cape Coast. Loaded into the clinic car Sister Cecilia drove to Accra first to the district house in order to pick up more Sisters. Traffic inched out of Accra and a stop at Hut D’Eric was a good stretch of the legs and a chance for me to try Malta and yam chips along with Ghanaian beef kabob. We finally arrived at Cape Coast a little before 4 PM and I walked the grounds of the conference center and tried to give the Sisters time to settle in and greet everyone. Sister Cecelia had a rough plan for me. I was to spend the week living at Sister Mary Ann’s house. She is the Head mistress at a Catholic school here in Cape Coast. Sister Made a few phone calls and the plan had then changed, Sister Mary Ann’s administrative assistant wants me to come and stay at her house for the week and submerse myself within the Ghanaian culture. I was very excited to hear this, even to spend one night with her would be a treat but it turns out I might get a few nights with her. I meet her tomorrow morning and she will finish work at noon and then we will go to her home. There will be more to come, for sure!

Tonight I am with Sister Mary Ann at the Sister House in Cape Coast. It’s a lovely two-story house with a courtyard in the middle with a spiral staircase in one corner. There are two playful dogs and a loving cat.

Good sleep at the sister house and a relaxing morning while work was wrapping up for Faustina, my adventure buddy. After lunch of Ground Nut soup with a rice ball, we went to her house and she did some cooking while I played with Agnes (8) and Alfreda (5). We played skipping rope and talked about freckles etc, refer to journal.

Topics to discuss, food, Sammy and men’s mentality, taxis rides of death to Elmina, Kakun Nat’al Park, Castles and Slaves, Church, lobster dinner with the sisters on the beach.

Ghana is trying to get into the film industry but everything they make looks like a badly filmed soap opera. Faustie and I watched a few and the story line isn’t very strong and the acting is ‘awesome’. There is also a Spanish Soap Opera that is translated into English and played every night at 6:30PM. Nigeria also has a big film industry (Nollywood) but its just as hard to watch. With time I’m sure the film quality will increase, I hope the acting does too.

After watching a film on Friday we ate dinner of Banku and Fish Stew cooked in tomatoes. Sammy, Faustina’s Boyfriend, came over for a visit and we went out to “The Spot” which is a drinking and dining establishment. It is just across the road from Faustie’s place so we walked there. I drank a beer and ate a goat kabob and chicken sausage. We then took a taxi to a part of Cape Coast called London Bridge. We drank another beer before going home. I wasn’t sure about the sleeping arrangement so I got my jammies on and brushed my teeth while Sammy said goodnight to Faustie. Faustie got into her nightie and then instructed me to climb into bed, after she pulled the mosquito net down she climbed in as well and said goodnight and we went to sleep.

Thoughts ran through my head, such as how a complete stranger invites me into her mosquito net and opens her whole life to me. She lives a very simple life but it is complete. She has shelter and food and clothing and a job and someone who loves her and promises to take care of her and give her many children. She isn’t too concerned that she doesn’t have a car, or takes showers out of a bucket or cooks all her meals outside over a propane burner. I think its all she knows and maybe even better than what she came from. Her faith in God is what carries her through the hard times I think. In my opinion its how most Ghanaians get through their day knowing that life after this one will be filled with riches beyond their dreams. Also, if you do not know what you are missing, how can you miss it? I slept restlessly on Friday night with many thoughts in my head and still hot air making the room sticky. Faustie couldn’t sleep well either, at least that is what she told me at 5 o’clock when she woke up to sweep the whole house before everyone woke up. She climbed back into bed for a while longer and slept but by 7 o’clock she had breakfast ready for both of us (rice porridge) and we were both bathed and ready to go on our next adventure. We walked to the road and caught a Tro Tro to Kakum National Park about 30 minutes inland from Cape Coast. Here we walked the nature trails and the Canopy Walkway. It was beautiful and it was nice to see a program in place to protect their forests and wildlife from deforestation and over-hunting. We tried to catch a Tro Tro back to Cape Coast but Saturday is market day so every Tro Tro that passed us was full of people with no room to spare. We convinced three European Volunteers to take a taxi with us to the Castle and they agreed. We piled in, with Faustie and I sharing the front seat. We got to the Cape Coast Castle and went in directly to have a tour around.

As a white American who only knows slavery from textbooks, I’ve never put much thought into how Africans got to America or the rest of the world. The British came to the Gold Coast in the 1600’s and began by trading gold and cocoa with the Fanti and Ashanti tribes of Ghana, but then realized the rich slave market that they could get into. After striking a deal with the chief and kings of the tribes they began taking men, women and children from the villages and shipping them off to all parts of the world. These people would come from the northern territories of Ghana and travel by foot to the coast were they would be kept for up to 6 weeks waiting for their ship to come in. While at the castles they would be packed into the rooms with up to 1,000 other people and fed very little and living in their own waste for weeks on end. Archeologists have recently taken samples of the rocks and found that the rooms that the slaves were kept had anywhere between 18 inches to 2 feet of human feces packed on the ground. There was a crack in the middle of the room that served as a urinal which led all the way through the tunnels and to the ocean. Men or women who did not survive the stay at the Castle were dumped over the wall where history says sharks were regularly seen. The castle served as a church for the British living there and a school for their children as well as the first court to be established in Ghana. It was a market area with slave auctions held for the local wealthy farmers who had been introduced to plantation farming. The castle did not provide deepwater access for the ships to dock so they would anchor off shore. After passing through the door of no return the long canoes would be loaded with the slaves and paddled out to the awaiting ship. If slaves misbehaved or caused a riot they would be placed into a holding cell and there they would die. They would not be given food or water and the bodies of other prisoners would not be removed until the last one was dead. Scratches from nails and teeth can be seen on the walls and floor of the cell. Records were not well kept of the slaves who went through the numerous castles along the Gold Coast. Many people trying to trace their ancestry such as, Michelle Obama, hit a road block when they return to the shores of their motherland. The can get an idea of what their forefathers endured but knowing which tribe they came from and which exact castle, (there are over 70 peppering the coastline) they can only presume.

Seeing the castle and walking through the rooms helped me realize the impact of White man on Africa. My previous history lessons have always began with the slave ships arriving on our shores and to see the true beginning was interesting and shocking.

After seeing the Castle and walking through the museum, Faustie and I went for a bite to eat at a nearby eatery. A chunk of fish covered in a spicy egg sauce on a huge pile of rice. I ate until I was stuffed and still had half a plate of food left, I began to think of all the starving children in Africa that I had always heard about and wondered if I could find one this afternoon to share the rest of my meal. I learned from Sister Cecilia that in Ghanaian culture you leave something on your plate to let everyone know that you have had enough to eat and do not want anymore. It’s backwards from how I was raised to eat everything on my plate to be respectful to the one who prepared the meal.

After our belly buster Faustie and I walked the streets looking at souvenirs and contemplating what gifts are good for whom. If I was to buy a gift for a friend here, underwear would be a great gift, you can never have too many!  I did not purchase any underwear, don’t worry. We walked through the market and purchased some cocoa yams, and flour of some sort. Faustie has a large network of friends from college and some of her classmates live out of town now but their parents live in Cape Coast so she looks after them and runs errands for them. We delivered the flour to such people and I visited with the brother of one of Faustie’s girlfriends. He is twenty-something, working on a degree in music and studying philosophy, language and theology. Within 30 minutes of meeting we had covered all topics of conversation from my feelings on the war on terrorism to the GDP of Ghana to southern gospel music. He asked many thought provoking questions and helped me consider many topics I usually leave untouched during my normal routine, but today was no ordinary day!

We made it back to her place around 4 or so and took a quick siesta before dinner (boiled yams and fish stew) and drinks out with Faustie’s best friend, Maggie, and Sammy too.

We went to Elmina because Sammy wanted to find a place that had music so we could dance. He knew the perfect location so we loaded into a taxi and drove off into the night. On our way to Elmina the taxi driver proved to us that he knew how to drive fast but had little regard for the rules of the road. I experienced overtaking on turns, driving only with parking lights on, exercising the horn frequently, etc. Once we reached Elmina, a small town with narrow roads and deep gutters, a fog seemed to be hanging in the streets. Men on bikes, women with babies on the back and another in tow, boys playing in the street and of course, people trying to sell anything and everything, were merely obstacles on the race course. There is a large billboard near Faustie’s house that has the 2006 statistics for number of traffic accidents and deaths for all the regions of Ghana, and I prayed that I wouldn’t become a statistic that night. We made it to the bar that Sammy wanted to go to (the taxi driver gladly gave us his mobile number so we could call him when we needed a ride) and found the bar to be dead quiet, we had a drink and headed back closer to home. We stopped and had another drink and some kabobs. We only found a football (soccer) match being shown on the side of a building with a projector but no music for dancing. Sammy walked us back and Maggie spent the night.

Sunday morning we were all up early and Faustie had her room and the whole house swept before everyone woke. Church began at 7 o’clock so it was bath time for everyone then time to get dressed. I borrowed a skirt from Faustie because I didn’t want to look like a rag doll, so she dressed me and we walked to church with Agnes and Alfreda. Mass was a trip. All three readings were read in three languages, Fanti, Ga, and English. The sermon was given in English with the important parts repeated in Fanti and after communion we listened to the local fire service tell us how to prevent fires in our homes and what we can do to make our homes safer, this was only in Fanti but I had two girls translating for me while they counted my freckles. After three hours of singing, dancing and taking up collections, Mass had ended and we all went in peace. We went back to the house, had a nap and some lunch then it was beach time!

Sister Cecelia picked Faustie and I up and we drove out passed Elmina on the same road I experienced the night before to a beautiful beach resort. About 20 sisters came out to the beach and sat reading their books, taking walks and sharing stories. The weather was overcast and nobody swam but for them it was their time to be away from meetings and paperwork. We had a wonderful dinner of fried rice with a vegetable sauce over top, calamari, lobster, chicken, and grouper. The meal was wonderful and listening to Sister Peg tell us all stories of her early years in Nigeria (after her pint of beer) was quite entertaining. She told stories of eating bush rat, a Nigerian delicacy, cat, monkey, etc.

We loaded back into the car and drove back before it got too dark and Faustie and I were dropped off. When we made it back to her house I was informed that I would be eating dinner again because grandma had prepared Fufu for me and it must be eaten fresh. Grandma is the landlady of the room Faustie rents. Her house is next to a printing press that her two sons manage and run. They live above the printing press with their families and rent out the spare room to Faustie. Agnes and Alfreda are the granddaughters. The girls’ mother cooks for a head mistress of a local school (not sister Mary Ann) and she also makes bake goods and sells them on the street. The grandmother is a seamstress. The life above the Hampton Press is simple and everyone looks out for each other. One bathroom is shared among 8 people and the kitchen is only a place to store supplies because most cooking in done over a fire outside. So grandma and the girls’ mother prepared the fufu. After eating a wonderful meal at the beach I indulged in Fufu with okra stew. The helping was enough to feed 4 grown men and I felt awful for wasting this special meal. Sammy arrived and Faustie made a plate of food for him. She was tired and we stayed in and watched a movie. Sammy left around 9PM and we climbed into bed shortly after and went to sleep.

Monday was a day to get things done. Faustie had errands to run and bills to pay. We ate a breakfast of rice porridge (just like mimi’s rice pudding) and caught a taxi to town. First we went to the bank and then to the post office. She is continuing her education at Cape Coast University starting in a few weeks so she was mailing in her payments. We then went to one of her friend’s places to check out a skirt she wanted, we also tried on some earrings and played dress up for little while. Then we did my shopping for fabrics and found some I really liked and she agreed that they were nice. I found an African shirt for Papa Mac; I couldn’t think of a better gift than a loud shirt that screams retirement.  We hit up the local souvenir shops again and got some wooden art and I decided to go ahead and buy the African quilt I saw on Saturday even though the lady wouldn’t haggle with me. We bought some pineapple, and some new curtains then we made for home feeling quite satisfied with our purchases. We stopped at the Spicy Spot, which is a bar close to Faustie’s place. We had a drink and enjoyed some roasted corn, and coconut. Once back at her room we took a nap and then she fed me Fufu and ground nut soup which was very nice. Sammy came over, we went out to a little bar, I got eaten by mosquitoes (I think that’s where I got Malaria) and we took a taxi home. One the walk back to her house, I was walking on the side of the road, it’s a dirt road so I was walking on the grass because a taxi was coming and I stepped off the edge and fell into a deep ravine. I scared Faustie but I didn’t hurt myself too badly, just a scratch on my leg. I got to the bath and cleaned up well that night.

Tuesday was my last day with Faustie and we didn’t have any plans really. We woke at 5 like usual, after cleaning, bathing and having a maize porridge (but not grits) we climbed back into bed and took a nap for a while. I colored pictures with the girls and tried to get them not to be critical of each other’s artwork. They then wanted to brush my hair and before I knew it they were giving my braids. I looked like an angry German girl when they were through with me. Alfreda told me that if I went out like that I would get laughed at and then I would cry. I love the honesty of children. We did go out in fact, we went to Biriwa Beach Resort and spent the afternoon playing in the water and watching the waves roll in. Sitting mesmerized for a few hours only moving after the rain started to fall, was a great way to spend the afternoon. We went home directly…taking a tro tro into town, picking up some bread and eggs then taking the taxi to the house. Sammy arrived shortly after our baths and after he had eaten his dinner we went out to “Meet Me There” bar and had some drinks and some of the most interesting conversation on the culture of Ghana.

Chelsea Clinton’s wedding came up as a topic and they mentioned how nice her wedding looked in the pictures on the news. I mentioned that she was an only child…their only daughter, so they probably spared no expense. Sammy and Faustie believed it was cruel to a child to raise him or her alone. I mentioned that some American’s focus on their careers more than a family which could be one reason to have only one child. Then I asked a question that I heard Sister Cecilia talking about. In Ghana, if a woman has two children and her sister or cousin does not have any, one child will be given to her to raise so she does not feel worthless. I then discovered that if a woman does not conceive within a few years of the marriage she will be left and the man’s family will insist he remarry. In Ghana it is acceptable to have more than one wife so if he is rich enough to care for both of them he can marry another while keeping his first. If his second wife has a child, the baby will be given to the first wife to raise. The child will be told when he or she is old enough whom its birth mother is and in some cases the birth mother will take the child back. A man pays a dowry for his bride based on her level of education. I pressed this issue and asked how much Faustie would be worth and Sammy says there are many factors that go into calculation. He said its nearly a full reimbursement to the parents for the money they spent to educate her. They asked how much my parents would get for me, and my answer was nothing. I told them that Americans usually do not pay a dowry to the bride’s family these days because a price cannot and should not be placed on a person…I value myself as priceless. Their argument was that if a man got his wife without paying the family anything for her, he is more likely to treat her as a worthless object…I see that mentality and it pains me think that men can be shallow enough to feel that way, but I guess its culture…it made me think about the level of domestic violence and the statistics of women who are raped in the US…I’m not sure how I felt about my family getting money for me. It gives a new meaning to a father “giving away” his daughter, maybe if a father “exchanged” his daughter…

Anyways, I also learned that marriages could be arranged at a young age. Business deals can be solidified over the birth of a girl with the promise that she will be well educated and cared for as long as she is then his at the age of 18. It’s all very interesting to me because I thought that this was just the practice of a far off land a distant time ago, now I’m seeing, I am in the land and the time is now. The Conversation was very enlightening and I’m glad I took the time to ask the questions.

We walked back to Faustie’s room and had some ice cream before climbing into bed and letting sleep overcome us. In rained in the night and was still drizzling in the morning. After wheat porridge, I met Sister Cecelia on the roadside and we took the three hour drive back to Nsawam in the rain.

This story ends here for now, me sitting at my computer back in the comfort of my Sister House with electricity, good mosquito screens, running water and intermittent internet. Hello from Africa! I’ll be home soon!

Children: Because the future depends on them.

So I’ve now discovered skin rot. That’s not something one usually finds while on a summer vacation. The Internet has been down or I would have reported sooner but for the last few days I have been with the children at the OTC. There are about 40 in school, and then 30 that are 2 months of 4 years old staying with their mothers and receiving care. The Children at school have studies intermingled with therapy. They may be at school for a few months while they learn to walk on their soles of their feet instead of the sides of their feet or in some cases the children may attend school for much longer until an adoptive family is found. The young children and babies are in the back compound and it is an interesting place. It’s like a communal living facility with 30 mothers and grandmothers caring for 30 children.

Today the mothers were all angry because an old gallon jug was thrown in the trash and a woman fetched it out, cleaned it, and claimed it as her own. The others got angry and said she shouldn’t have taken it out of the trash because she is taking property from the OTC. And if she cleaned it and put it back into use, everyone should be able to use it. It was determined that the old lady can keep her jug and do what she wants with it.

Anyways, when I showed up Tuesday morning ready to check things out, I was handed a pair of rubber gloves and surgical scissors and told to remove some stitches from a girl who had surgery. This did not go as planned because the girl is from a northern tribe and doesn’t speak the same language as the others here at the clinic. Any child traumatized by surgery and then a white face comes at her with scissors is most likely not going to offer a warm embrace. The stitches came out with someone holding her down as I worked. Then we put her through more torture as we braced up her legs all the way to the thigh and sent her outside to learn to walk. She turned into a puddle of tears as we tried to coax her down the parallel bars and ended in defeat when we realized there were other children who needed to be cared for too.

I can’t imagine the trauma though, she has surgery, then she recovers with her family for a few weeks before they send her to the OTC where she doesn’t speak the language here and then we start poking around more and asking her to do things that hurt her…like walking. We found one man who speaks her language, he is an amputee from a car accident, and he talks to her everyday to convince her we are not evil and are only trying to help her.  Tough sell for an 8 year old. The other children are nice to her and she just mimics them and gets through her day fairly well. She doesn’t want to walk and that’s all we want her to do.

After we left her alone the first day and returned to care for the other children I spent the next few hours cleaning up infected sores, and fitting growing children with new braces.

I then went to the back compound with the mothers and children. The idea in the back compound it to treat the small children by braces and shoes and form their bones before they need surgery. We touch the feets and knees of every child, everyday. The mothers place them on a table and we massage and manipulate their legs and feet, trying to convince them that we are doing good, but most children think we are lying and let all their friends know by their high pitched screams.

I took a break half way through the children because the men in the workshop (making braces and prosthetics) had some Ghanaian food they wanted me to try. Banku is ground corn and cocoa (like coconut husk) mixed together, made into a thick pasta with water, wrapped in banana leaves, left outside for a couple days, then steamed. So it tastes like fermented mush but this is one of their staples. Then they make a stew or soup of some kind, lots of okra and dried fish and tomatoes and lots of pepper. They used their hands a make little balls out of the Banku then scoop up the stew with it and eat. I took some and was polite about it, then we discussed other ways the banku can be eaten. More water can be added to make a milk shake substance drink…add sugar. It wasn’t too bad when I tried it that way.

The remainder of the children received massages after my banku break and most of them didn’t like it. Then I got to sit in while a man who makes decisions looked at the children and decides if they can get out of the braces or change braces, etc. I got to help cut off a boy’s casts from his legs. He had surgery and then they put him in casts for a few months so everything heals the way it should. Cast cutters scare me. But getting the cast off and seeing the progress was pretty cool. The next day we gave him some braces for his feet and the day after that he was walking around with the other school children getting faster and stronger. 

After my first full day at the OTC I was overwhelmed with the work that goes on, I was back at the sister home in the evening with my mind whirling of the children and the cries and the whole experience. I realized that this is why Cecilia and Liz come home in the evenings and spend an hour or more talking about everything they saw and did that day. No two days are alike. I didn’t sleep well and my dreams were filled with crutches and braces.

The next day at the OTC started with cleaning wounds and sores and working with the small babies in the back. In the afternoon I helped cut off one cast for an older lady with one club foot and then a younger girl with a cast on each leg. Both had infected sores under the casts so the remainder of my day was spent cleaning and bandaging their legs.

The younger girl had spent her life prior to surgery walking on the sides of her feet with her toes turned in. the calluses built up on her feet had turned soft under the casts and began rotting away. I took a scissor blade and scrapped away dead skin. I finally had to stop for the evening when the bucket of water was a thick skin cell soup. We promised her we would start again in the morning.

Wednesday evening was especially hard from Sister Cecilia because they lost a newborn baby at the clinic. She told the story over and over again. We prayed for the family of the baby, and the midwives too. After my two days with the children and my one restless night without sleep, I realized how taxing this job is on the sisters and how emotionally draining it could be. I’ve mentioned my respect and admiration for the work the Sisters do but now that I’ve gotten my hands in on the work, it’s increased once again.

Thursday morning we got through the small sores and wounds and spent over an hour cutting off dead skin from the girl’s feet from the day before, they are beginning to look like feets again but her new soles are so soft and tender that they are bruising from walking on them. It’s a slow, painful process, I can only imagine… we braced her feet after getting as much dead skin off as we could and sent her out to walk. With time, her muscles will agree with the rest of her body allowing her to walk upright and without pain. 

Friday morning I fell in love with a 3 year old, Cornelius, along with Sakina and the others. Sakina has one hand, yep, that’s it, just one hand and not even real fingers on the hand. I told her I would swim with her tomorrow. Cornelius has a clubfoot but he came to the clinic from an orphanage, so he can keep up with the others quite well. Cornelius fell asleep in my lap while in class with the children learning bible stories. 

Saturday Sister Cecilia and I swam with the children. Children have no fear and I don’t know if they can swim or not until they jump in the pool and sink. I’ve never taught a child how to swim before today. Sakina, with no legs and a stub for one arm does pretty well at keeping up right. We had a lifejacket and floaties on her.

The few seconds of silence before a child in pain lets out the piercing scream…that’s when my heart skips a beat. It’s Monday morning again and I spent another day with the children. There are new children at the clinic from last week. The little ones that can talk call out brunie, the way they say it sounds like blondie, I almost take offense to that. The other children who know me call me “Sista”…I’m cool with that too. So the Scream… I’ve seen it before and I’ve heard it but now I’m the direct cause of it. Taking the braces off and massaging and moving the joints is no job for a loving mother. I don’t think I could do it to my children even if I knew it was for their own good.

I went on a walkabout today with Maud. She was hungry so she went to find something to eat and took me with her. She is one of the ladies who works at the OTC and I’ve become her right hand Sista. Anyways, she introduced me to her real sister last week and this week she introduced me to her in-laws who are bread makers. I got a complementary loaf! Hot from the earthen oven…so good. I got some pictures of the family and then we went back to work. She keeps telling me that I need to get out and walk the streets and see everything but I don’t know how to tell her that I’m not comfortable gallivanting around a town were even the three year olds point out that I’m a white lady.

So the girl last week that I removed the stitches from and who cried everyday and wouldn’t walk, remember her? She decided she would walk today. I don’t know who convinced her but I guess she got tired of scooting around on her butt. Speaking of butts, I was told today but a young girl that she liked my butt, I gladly thanked her for this and told her I liked hers as well, I wasn’t quite sure what the correct response to that would be. Cornelius is awesome, he calls me blondie but I let him get away with it.

Tuesday I taught the English lesson to the lower grade. There are 10 kids in the class from age 3 to 6 or so and all at different levels and attention spans. The regular teacher asked if I wouldn’t mind helping her this morning and I gladly said I would. Then she disappeared and left me with 10 children all eager to learn English. They don’t understand my accent very well but we got through the letter E, F, G, and H. So we went over some English rhymes the children have learned then we went over the letters then we worked on our handwriting, then we wrote words starting with the letters and then we drew a picture of a fish, because I like fish. And the whole hour I was battling Cornelius stealing the eraser that everyone was suppose to share, I was battling a little girl who wanted to stand on her chair because her brace pinches her when she sits, I had to battle with Sakina to not call me over and show me every new letter she wrote on her paper (even though I was very impressed with her writing ability with stubby fingers) and by the end of the hour I was so glad it was time for exercise!

This “vacation” has really helped me to narrow down my future job choices…I think pediatrician and kindergarten teacher and swim coach are definite no’s.

After my teaching lesson I went for a walk with the children and tried to keep the peace with the rascals wanting to sword fight and throw rocks (Cornelius), then I cut more casts off legs, pulled more stitches, tortured more babies with massages and petted the monkey and Longa before drinking a glass of wine and watching cartoons with Coby.

Wednesday

Speaker Man did not sing his praises to God this morning. I woke up at 5:30 and was so confused with the quiet of the katydids. I went to the OTC this morning and cleaned some wounds, played with some babies, and sat in on Ghanaian Etiquette Class.

Story time. You know the program where you can buy a goat or a cow and send it to a third world country with the promise that it goes to a family to raise and become revenue generating? I know my family does because Abbey has given money during Vacation Bible School to send goats and chickens to Mexico. Anyways, there is a lady that was born with no arms and she is about 3 and a half feets tall. She started out at the OTC many years ago and now is a teacher about 15 miles from Nsawam. She eats and writes with her feet and is a respected lady in the community. She was given a cow to by one of these organizations and last month she had a calf so what does she do…she learns to milk the cow with her feet! I’m sure there has to be some special understanding between her and the cow for this to work, I didn’t get to see it first hand but I got to taste to yogurt today. She milks the cow and sells it to the local veterinarian of all people to make cheeses and yogurts and today she brought some to the OTC for the children. Quiet a remarkable lady and also a living example that some programs do work.

This afternoon we had game time; I got invited into the football (soccer) game. The field isn’t level so the way the kids even it out is add another person to the team having to go uphill. I was on the downhill team so it was two other children and I. We were three legs short. My teammate, a teenage amputee, stopped using his crutch and was hoping all over the field. The image of Lowly the Worm playing with his friends came to mind. I was playing barefoot and got a little nervous around the crutches and feets everywhere. We played a fierce game and after an hour of play, drenched through my blue jeans we emerged victoriously. I even scored a goal on my own team and we still won. Had a blast playing with the children and I think they were shocked that this brunie knew how to play the game.

There is a man about a half a mile away that likes to begin his day with prayer at 5AM. He aslso likes to share his prayers with everyone in the town using 4 large speakers mounted high in the air on a pole. He really likes to pray. He prays early in the morning and late at night, and when most normal people are awake and functioning, he is asleep.

The weekend was filled with rest, relaxation and what i now call speaker prayer. Over the weekend i really took advantage of the sisters keeping the Sabbath and enjoyed the peace and quiet. Monday began with an early start with the Speaker Man reminding us all at that its time to get back to work.

I went to the clinic with Sister Cecilia today and spent the morning in the Lab with Sammy, John and Sylvester. Since January 1st 2010, these guys have run 4,975 blood samples through the lab as of today. So amazing to think what a few microscopes and other equipment can accomplish. within 3 hours i had seen Malaria parasites in the blood, other parasites in a stool sample, Sickle Cell, and more! most lab techs in the US would not know what the Malaria parasite looks like! Sister tells me that she and others have been quarentined while on vacation in the US because no one knows what they are looking at when they see their blood work.

After Lunch (meatballs and Spag, Ghana eats their big meal at noon) one of the young girls at the clinic, Eunice, was coerced into being my guide through the Market. Market day is Monday and Thursday so Sister thought it would be a good experience for me to check it out. Eunice didn’t really understand the concept of walking around crowded streets, just to look at things, and kept wanting to know what i wanted and why i was stopping to look at the dried fish. Anyways, i was the only white face there. no doubt about that. i think i may be the only white face people have ever seen there since 1986 which was Sister’s last visit to the Market! i joke, but really. So i stood out like a sore thumb, way out, and i had my camera with me because i wanted to get some really great shots of Everything but was so overwhelmed. i’m going to go back, because i never knew there were so many ways to smoke a fish and display it, and i’ve always wanted to buy a pair of shoes made out of an old tire. i want to walk slowly through the maze of people sitting on their foot stools cutting up coconuts while ladies with tupperware stacked 6 feet high on their heads navigate through. i want to find out how they get their garlic to turn orange when they cure it and i want to buy another bag of fruit for 50 peswas which is close to 45 cents. (my earlier exchange rate was off but most fruit and medical care are dirt cheap) People called out to me on the street “the white person” in their native language and i gave a sheepish smile and waved a hello as i passed. Sister tells me she replies back with “the black person” when she hears them call out to her, i have to learn that word.

So i made it out of the Market with some fabric and beads, some fruits and my camera still around my neck so i considered it a near success. like i mentioned, i want to go back and actually take pictures next time, if not thursday, Next week. i pulled out my fabrics once i made it back to the Sister House and realized i got some truly awful pieces…one is okay, you can use it to line a drawer or on the inside of a pillowcase or curtains for a room that never sees light. but the other one will probably end up in Mexico as a donation!

after the Market we went back to the clinic and Sister and her trusty friend Leana, who interpretes, were still hard at it. after 164 patients seen, it was time to call it quits for the day. This is the beginning of the 4th week without running water. the pipe was broken when they were laying the new road and it has yet to be fixed. the Clinic has a well so water is hauled from the well everyday. it makes me respect and admire the work that happens at this small clinic in this small town in this small country which is often overlooked by the rest of the world.

with love until next time

Christine

Well hello again.

it’s friday night and the sisters and i had dinner, drank a beer and watched some TV! what a busy week i’ve already had and how much i have to look forward to.

i’ve covered a fair bit of land since i last wrote. i may have mentioned my trip North to Winneba, its a little villege about 2 hours away and Sister Liz, Sister Joan and i took the back roads up on thursday morning because the main bridge has been washed out and the new one is under construction. i can now saw i have experienced dirt roads. if you can imagine the bumpiness of getting down to cow patty park… but for miles! we drove through small villages which is just a cluster of mud buildings. Sister Cecilia was saying that during the rainy season people will come to the clinic with injuries from their houses collapsing in on them. it really is just sticks and mud and some have tin roofs and others have straw. children and goats run around while the men fetch water from the community well or working out in the fields and the women can be seen shucking corn or cleaning yams. Yams and Pineapples grow here in Ghana but both are more whitish in color, not the orange or yellow we are used to.

the drive was interesting, it really gave me a feel for what is out there.

we made it back to the OTC for lunch and in the afternoon it was time to collect Brother from the airport in Accra. Joey King (my high school teacher) and i decided to meet in Accra for dinner since he is here for a conference representing the Bourloug Institute. you can check it out online but its an institute affiliated with Texas A&M and is doing great things in Africa. Dinner was delightful and was great to catch up with an old friend. i spent the night in Accra so i would not have to travel at night. Friday morning i caught a cab to the Achimota station which is the African equivilent to a greyhound bus station. the buses are minivans which pack 24 people inside and drive to wherever you want to go. $1 to ride. i was lucky and got a window seat and a lady on my right who wanted to share her fufu with me. (her breakfast) before the bus took off a man came around selling worm medicine. imagine selling cotton candy at a circus, now replace the cotton candy with worm medicine. we had a taker on my bus. once we got out of the station there were people at the first stop sign lining the street selling dried fruits, baked goods, toys, and phone cards. the driver stopped long enough for some people to buy snacks then we were on our way. one man collected all our money and once that was done another man stood up and began a prayer. everyone bowed their head respectfully. for the next 15 minutes he had a firey sermon about obeying God and loving our neighbor. it was all in Twi, the native language but its not hard to imagine what was being said. he closed with a prayer, took up his collection and before i knew it we were into Nsawam. i was dropped off at another station and convinced a taxi driver to take me to the OTC and once there i gave me a $1.50 for the ride.  what a morning, i was glad to be back!

after lunch i went to the clinic with Sister C and closed out the day with 116 patients and a lady on the delivery table. we tried to stay and see the new boy come into the world but she was taking too long so we finally came home.

The pool pump has been replaced so next week i hope to go for a swim with the children. Sister tells me that some of the children will be going to spend time with their families because its summer break. there are still lots that will be here though and plenty of playing to do.

Longa the watch dog let me pet her tonight when i gave her dinner, step in the right direction and the monkey’s and i have not had another encounter. i discovered the grasscutters, another cute animal here at the OTC. its beaver looking in the face, with a guinnea pig body. and the munch on grass all day long.

i’m not sure if there are any plans for the weekend, rest for the sisters and getting ready for the next busy week.

the children call me Sister…much easier to remember considering that all white faces here are sisters!

please send this out to whomever, i’m trying to write with a general audience in mind, i don’t want to offend anyone.

lastly, i need some electrical advice. the stove and the sink in the sister’s house keeps grounding out through us! if we are not wearing rubber soled shoes a shock goes up our hands. any suggestion of how this can be easily fixed. its 220V over here so some way to ground the sink…maybe Brother Ricky and Sister Dorothy should plan a trip next!

love

Christine

So i left you last time right before i went to see the children at the OTC. they are so cute and amazing.

i’ll hit the high points of the last day.

a child born in the clinic and i had a front row seat. a lady was told she had HIV.

and the world goes on.

love

Christine

Well Hello! please excuse spelling and grammar mistakes

I’ve been in Ghana about a day but i have to mention that my trip began at the Cunningham Home! i can’t tell you how much i enjoyed looking thought all your books and massaging all your beautiful figures. i feel that those few hours on Saturday morning have already enhanced my vision for seeing the art and beauty of this country. their fabrics are wonderful and these women are not afraid of color!

So the flight was good… i sat next to a man who i shared half of my seat with and needless to say i couldn’t sleep so i think i watched 4 in flight movies and had quite a few glasses of wine. i wasn’t going to let his sweatiness get me down!

Customs, baggage finding Sister C… side note: in JFK i was to try to locate Sister Elizabeth who works at the clinic with Sister Cecilia, i get to the gate and had one of two options (because i figured she was a white lady) i went with the snappy pant suit as Mary suggested and was right. thank you Mary!

The drive from Accra, the National Capital, to Nsawam, the bread capital, was about an hour. after about 30 minutes of driving i was informed we were finally out of Accra…i wouldn’t have known the difference. Street Side shacks lined nearly the entire drive home selling everything from Phone Cards to leather couches. i saw corn stalks growing between banana trees with cows munching on the weeds all in someone’s front yard. i saw ladies carrying baskets and bowls on their heads with smoked fish, fresh eggs, loaves of bread and clean laundry. the drive was quite a trip.

We arrived at the OTC (the orthopedic training center) which is where the sisters live at about 11:00 and Sister C went straight to the clinic because there was so many people waiting for her. i have a darling room with lots of windows and i took a nap.

So at the OTC there is a workshop which makes the prostetics for the children who are born without arms, legs, hands and/or feet AND also those how have an amputation. It is also a physical therapy center to teach the kids how to walk and live with their disability. it is a school as well. their teachers and nurses live here and so do the children until the school feels they are ready to go back to their families. Its usually around 12 years old unless a child is much older when they arrive at the center. the youngest child is only a few months old, she was born with club feet. this afternoon i’m going to get a tour of the OTC and have a chance to play with the kids.

This morning i went to the Clinic with Sister Cecilia. i got to see the process of how it all works. within 4 hours i saw everything from Plus 3 Milaria (which is just a step below ceribral malaria) to a circumcision which i had to sit down for. i saw celutitus, machete wounds, sick babies, and high blood pressure. the new maturnity ward/ building is nearing completion. its going to be wonderful. its unlike anything you can imagine, i’ll take pictures for you.

currently the clinic only have 4 beds, Sister C tells me that one time 4 women were giving birth at once! there is a lab where blood work can be ran and three tests can determine if the patient has Milaria, low red blood cells or sickle cell. most people that she sees have Milaria, worms, or both. there is a dispensary and a curtain blocking off half that room is used as a wound dressing center. there is another room just for injections and then Sister C and a Ghanaian named Philip (i don’t know his title) see the patients and work out the payment.

there is a government insurance program but it doesn’t cover the whole cost of the treatment and most people that sister C sees cannot afford to pay the balance if they have the insurance. the people who are not on government insurance pay in full. the most i saw her charge was $12 Ghanian money which i think with the conversion to USD is about $2.

There are lots of animals at the OTC. there are watch dogs, they don’t like me yet; there are monkey’s, one growled at me and the other tried to steal my camera; there are crocodiles, chickens and i’m sure i’ll find something else as i look more.

the food i have eaten has been Americanized. a beef stew over rice, some BBQ steak with Mary Beth’s pepper crackers, spagetti and meat sauce, etc.

i’m excited to see the children and when i get a chance i’ll write more. the weather has been mild 70’s  to 90’s (this is the best time of year to be here because the rains keep it cool) and everything is lush and green.

write more in a day or two.

love

C

Hello All!

I thought this would be an interesting way to keep in touch for a month while I’m in Ghana. I will post things here as much as I can and you can log on and make comments as much as you can! Send the link to anyone who may be interested. Lots of Love.

Christine