Day 29 - How to Pack for a Trip of This Nature

Saturday, April 9 - Day 29

Tonight, it’s “lights-off Dodowa” so no fan and only battery-powered lighting. Maybe the electricity will return at night, maybe in two days. As it’s very hot these days, the former would be preferable.

Tonight is also the time for some packing-list superlatives:

Best clothing item brought to Ghana: A sarong - All-purpose as a skirt, towel, and dress, it’s also very easy to clean, unlike any white or light-colored fabric which absorbs dust like dust-absorption is an Olympic sport. (Dear Fabrics, It’s not.)

Most unexpectedly useful item brought to Ghana: My AmeriCorps NCCC combination screwdriver and tape measure - Who knew that Sophie and I would both need to resecure the tiny Phillips-head screws in our sunglasses or that Domenica would need to take measurements for her grad-school-graduation gown? I sure didn’t.

Best intangible thing I brought to Ghana: Extensive first-aid knowledge - Today’s main applications were changing the dressing on Justice’s toe, determining a course of action for Kojo’s swollen forearm (it was stepped on yesterday and he’s retained limited but decent motion so ice and NSAIDs), and cleaning and covering the fortunately-minor puncture wound on the bottom of George’s foot.

Justice’s toe looked great today, thanks for asking. It’ll be some time yet before a new toenail grows in, but there’s now a thin skin layer over nearly all of it. The once-almost-unbearable iodine now barely stings. Putting a bandaid’s middle under the gauze keeps it from sticking to the still-open areas. Justice continues to be ready and willing to take medicine or change his dressing. He’s generally a fantastic patient.

At my request, George wrote down the lyrics to his favorite church song (“Purify My Heart”) for me two nights ago and we practiced it both then and last night. He asked me to sing it with him tonight and has now officially declared that I know it. Success.

Another success is that Joshua is once again talking to me. Of the three boys who had been sulking for days about being told they had to walk to school because they missed the bus (note: none actually walked; they all skipped instead), he took my apology the best. I told each one-on-one yesterday that I was sorry we hadn’t given them better warning of the new walking policy as we should have. [Note from the future: This is one of many challenges arising from the volunteers-as-parents model that predominated; it was successful in ways.] Joshua forgave me; Kwame Adu, not unexpectedly, continued to ignore me; Emit stayed as quiet as he has been since Sophie went away to Mole. As volunteers, it’s a strange line we straddle between parents and friends. Like seven (or nine, at the time the walking rule was formed) camp counselors sharing a giant cabin, we must remember to communicate changes to our charges, not only amongst ourselves. That said, it’s a balancing act.

The current rules guiding our interactions with the kids were formed about a week ago in direct response to issues of inconsistency, finance, character-building, and lack of sleep: 

1. Never give the kids money directly. If they need something, either buy it yourself or go with them to buy it.
2. If the Word of Faith kids miss their bus, they need to walk to school. If they have a very good reason for missing it, you can pay for them to take a trotro. The little ones, who are under our field of responsibility for getting to the bus on time, are excepted.
3. Leave the orphanage by 9 PM (10 PM on Fridays and Saturdays) to give the kids adequate sleep time. Staying until 10 PM on weeknights is permitted if studying with one of the kids aged 15 or older.

As time progresses and volunteers go and come, these rules will evolve. This set is working well for now.

Day 28 - Divides

Friday, April 8 - Day 28

It is strange to recognize that you both love a place as home (albeit a temporary one) and will miss fairly few things about it when you leave. This is my feeling about Ghana at the moment. I will miss the smiling kids and the other volunteers, the distinctly African rain, and the walks along dust-covered paths roads to a beautiful waterfall or a haven for monkeys. Though every day here is amazing, there are many things I will not miss. I will not miss being covered head-to-toe in sweat and dust within five minutes of stepping outside or the rivers of muddy sweat that run down our obruni skin after carrying firewood. [Note from the future: Surprisingly, I actually did miss the former during my first air-conditioned office job. Impressive?] I will not miss the constant sickness, how this morning alone at least four kids were running fevers. I will have a greater appreciation for a seemingly unending supply of clean, drinkable water. I will miss practicing my algebra and long division, but I will enjoy the intellectual stimulation associated with higher literacy levels. Immensely thankful for my supply of dried fruit, I will barely miss the food. I may miss the amazing pineapples and mangoes we got on rare occasion, but not the bread for breakfast, noodles for lunch, and rice for dinner with some fried plantains stepping in now and then. I have a greater appreciation for protein now. I will not miss that every day is part of a continuous heat wave or that the streets carry the acrid odor of the trash fires. I look forward to safer driving and vehicles not filled past capacity. It’s a different world out there, a world in which clean, healthy people drive clean, uncrowded cars down clean, paved streets while sipping on clean, drinkable tap water and watching the world rush past. The movies and other media aren’t the only culprits in making American and obruni life seem glamorous to Ghanaians; huge cultural and access divides exist.

Day 27 - Reflections Thus Far

Thursday, April 7 - Day 27

[Note from the future: This entry includes description of an injury and wound care.]

The nurses at the hospital chose to cut off Justice’s semi-attached toenail entirely rather than suture it. He’ll grow a new one, they said. They did not use even a local anesthetic; he did not cry and only hissed quietly in pain when they were dressing the wound. These kids are tougher than nails.

The nurses gave Justice a prescription for three medicines, all of which he was able to get there: paracetemol for pain, amoxycilin for infection, and ascorbic acid. He also has a wound-cleaning liquid for changing the dressing. They said we should return this morning (e.g., at 10 AM break in school) for would re-dressing; Bismark said (to me only) that we’d do it at home. I had asked about returning after school, but apparently the woman who does dressings is only there in the morning. Thus, once again, thank you Red Cross training.

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Thoughts (with 10 days left):

• Ghana is beautiful, resplendent with banana trees and mango trees, goats and roosters
• It is also litter-strewn and often unpleasantly aromatic (most trash is “removed” by bonfire)
• The children are friendly, enthusiastic, and eager
• Many of them lie and steal on a regular basis, some after a childhood of selling things off their heads or living in the bush
• The education culture has the potential to be so much better
• Football (soccer) is huge
• Fruits and vegetables are not (dairy is almost non-existent)
• Rice, bread, and other cheaply filling foods (e.g., traditional fufu and banku) are central staples
• Electricity is sporadic in small towns, cut without warning for hours or days
• Access to sufficient clean water is a privilege secured by money, not a right (we buy the kids water every day, but I think many of them live in a state of constant borderline dehydration)
• Reading skills are often limited
• Courage and strength (internal & external) are not

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Okay, so what’s the toughest part about Ghanaian orphanage work? It’s not the pre-dawn alarm clock or the 95-degree days, nor the half-mile walk home at 9 at night or dealing with the newest wave of illnesses. By far, it’s the children.

To much of suburban America, a rough childhood is one in which food is limited or a child is beaten. [Note from the future: Those do both constitute rough childhoods in my opinion. I offer them for comparison with the Ghanaian experience of childhood of the children for whom we cared.] Here, that rough childhood is taken to the next level. Most of the kids were handed over by family members no longer able to care for them. The five “true orphans” had it much worse: most of them were found in a bush somewhere; one was connected to WORCSA after spending his childhood years selling goods off his head and stealing to survive. His behavior is especially difficult. He acts as a negative ringleader, having in the last two weeks alone bullied other boys into stealing fish, beaten another boy rather than share bread with him, formed a posse of a couple of WoF kids angry at us for making them walk to school after missing the bus without reason, had that posse give us the silent treatment, and insulted a volunteer quite strongly in Twi. To his credit, this kid does know the system, including how to lie and cheat with a friendly smile. It’s so frustrating at times because he’s intelligent and “just a kid” at age 15, but also manipulative and way past most sheltered suburban youth in age-by-life-experience.

The little ones are much simpler. Many of the older ones lie (about anything), steal (from each other, regularly), and try to extort whatever is possible from volunteers. The young ones behave like small children worldwide. When angry or upset, they hurl a tiny fist or two at the offender and throw a tantrum. Twenty minutes later, the offense is forgotten. They never sulk for two days like the older ones do and they don’t lie about being sick or ask for a new pencil so they can sell it in class. Last I checked, kids in America and Europe weren’t selling hoarded pencils and erasers to classmates for spending money. That said, they also weren’t being beaten for not bringing a broom to class last I checked and that happened this week too. This is Ghana.

Day 26 - Cholera and Parachutes

Wednesday, April 26 - Day 26

[Note from the future: This entry includes description of an injury and wound care.]

A sign on the admissions window in Dodowa Hospital reads:

HEALTH ALERT

Cholera

Outbreak in the

Greater Accra

Region

Mama Jane warned us of this outbreak two weeks ago before she left for America, imploring us to keep the kids safe from it.

How do I know what the sign in Dodowa Hospital reads? Because I, like the sign, am in Dodowa Hospital right now. I was prepared for a standard afternoon at the orphanage when Justice came to me about his toe. Last I had noticed, he and another boy had been biking around the open middle area of the compound. It’s a big enough space for dancing or playing, but very small for biking. Now, I was sitting with a feverish Mercy (lower-grade than yesterday, in good news) on the usual front table when Justice approached.  The toenail on his littlest left toe had been almost entirely separated from his toe, along with a fair chunk of skin surrounding the toenail. I sat him down with instructions not to move and headed for the medical cabinet. I told Zach that a hospital trip was in order as I rummaged for appropriate gauze. He helped me find tape, some generic version of basic Scotch tape. Incredibly grateful for extensive first-aid training, I used the gauze to wrap the affected toe to keep it clean and keep the toenail attached then had Justice help tape around that and the neighboring toe to secure the gauze. Thank you, American Red Cross, for giving me the skills to bandage temporarily an orphan’s severely injured toe in non-urban Africa with only gauze and scotch tape.

The rest of today-thus-far has been less eventful than the toe incident. Sarah, Sophie, Niki, and Emily left shortly after 5:30 this morning for their African safari in Mole (MOHL-a), leaving Jackie, Zach, and I in charge of everything for the next five days. This made the morning pre-school routine more intense and hectic. I served food and Jackie distributed vitamins. She gave lots of pink-eye and some other medicine; I gave some medicine and bandaged a couple of small infection-high-risk open wounds. Happily, I still got to help the littlest ones get dressed with Ma when I first arrived. I also got to carry Beauty and Godwyn to the bus stop. Four of the older boys caught the bus only by running as it was about to depart. Another four missed the bus. Famous had been helping Jackie, but the other three had no legitimate excuse so Jackie and I told them that they needed to walk. Famous, who has been withdrawn and upset since Claire (his sponsor) left, immediately turned to head home. The other three made as if to walk to school but skipped and were at the orphanage when we arrived in the afternoon. I find it infuriating that there are few to no repercussions for missing school, yet children who do attend can be caned or spanked for minor infractions. The culture surrounding education here has so much potential to be stronger and more positive.

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Got electronics? Want to discover the fun features on your iPod or phone that you never knew existed? Ask an orphan. Our kids, after a single year of exposure to Western technology through volunteers, are as tech-savvy with small electronics as any I’ve ever met. They may not know how to open a new file in Word on a computer (they learn the steps through screenshots in ICT - Information Communication Technology - in school), but Bismark found a planes, parachutes, and tank game on my iPod in about five seconds flat. I had no idea it existed. Reassuringly, three or four other volunteers have already expressed shock at the things the kids have discovered their technology can do. Youthful exploration has its benefits.

Day 25 - On Vitamins and Leadership

Tuesday, April 5 - Day 25

As yesterday’s brief entry suggests, the day was quite a full one.

Sunday finished fairly quietly - a nice lunch at WoF at the conclusion of the sermon, an afternoon with the kids, and a pre-Monday-exam study session on maths with some of the Methodist form 1 and form 2 kids consisting primarily of single-digit addition and subtraction.

Monday began with the all-too-frequent last-minute rush to get the Word of Faith kids to their bus. We got all the little ones there in time, which was good. Three of the older boys missed the bus with no valid reason; they got a trotro to school this time but will have to walk for any future recurrences. Being late and missing the bus, we volunteers agree, should have consequences. 

[Note from the future: One of the challenges of volunteering at an orphanage is that these wonderful kids end up with a revolving-door rotation of parental stand-ins and rules can fall to the wayside in the transitions. I do believe, though, that our impact has been positive overall as regards this amazing group of children. Many volunteers have since returned and given very positive reports regarding the continued well-being of the children. The children remember past volunteers and ask about us of other volunteers upon their return to the orphanage.]

After breakfast, Emily and I headed into Accra (Dodowa to Medina, Medina to 37 on Accra-Circle). Sarah and Sophie, along with Zach, had headed in earlier in the morning to renew their visas at immigration. We met the girls at MaxMart for a nice lunch out on the town, enjoying the luxury of wheat-baguette sandwiches with lettuce, tomato, cucumber, cheese, and pesto. Vegetables and wheat bread? Crazy upscale.

The afternoon at the orphanage included lots of sleep-deprived time reading to small children. Sophie and I left a bit early to head to the seamstress for a fitting of our new clothing. Each item needed slight alterations, but her work is absolutely beautiful.

At night, I helped Abigail with a final review for today’s math exam at her request. She’s very intelligent and good at maths; she made a few simple mistakes but seems to grasp the concepts (algebra, triangle geometry) and seemed well-prepared for her exam.

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To begin with, conjunctivitis is sweeping through the orphanage. Pink eye is highly contagious, spreading through a single touch. Emily, who is handling the seven cases identified thus far, had George explain to all the kids in Twi last night that they need to wash hands a lot, not touch their eyes, and take other basic precautions to avoid getting sick. The kids understand English to varyingly high degrees, but Twi is the first language of most. A few have other first languages, the home dialects of their regions of the country.

Speaking of sick, the kids love medicine. This is bad when it plays a part in creating hypochondriacs (we certainly have a couple of intense attention-seekers), but good when kids are actually in need of medicine. One example is daily vitamins, which we give to all the kids. We have Flintstones chewables and the gummy-bear ones. We tell the kids they’re toffee (or candy, to we Americans).

Watching Beauty and Godwyn eat their vitamins as I carried them to school (Godwyn in my arms, Beauty Ghana-style on my back) was a highlight of this morning. It was gummy-vitamin day and they each exhibited their signature styles. Beauty likes to savor her vitamin, alternately nibbling off tiny bites and simply holding it for a minimum of 20 minutes. She consistently has about half of her vitamin left when we get to the bus stop. This morning, she sat on her tree-root perch sticking that half to her top lip then pulling it so her lip would come out slightly. When the gummy-lip seal broke, she repeated the action (multiple times). Godwyn finished his vitamin in about five minutes. His style is also far from standard. Godwyn likes to stick the vitamin into his mouth, suck on it a few times, and spit it back into his hand. He repeats this again and again until the vitamin disappears. These kids love their vitamins.

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The actual highlight of my day, above even the littlest ones eating their vitamins, was George going to school. He was sitting outside his room not in uniform and not making any effort to do anything with 30 minutes to go this morning (i.e., at 7 AM). I approached and we talked for a few minutes. He was planning to skip school because yesterday his class was stuck carrying heavy blocks all day for a building project rather than learning anything. I pointed out that carrying heavy things can be exhausting and no fun, but not going to school would send a message to the other kids that it’s okay to skip out on things just because you don’t like them. He’s the indisputable leader; others are always watching him and his actions will be copied, whether now or in weeks or months. Five minutes after we talked, Niki came up to me and said, “How did you get George to go to school?” I still only put the odds of him actually showing up at the bus at 70% until I saw him walk across the field with my own eyes. It was a good day for good leadership. I was very proud of him.

On Continuation and Closure

It has taken well over a year (one year, five months, five days to be precise) to translate all of my journal entries from Ghana into typed text, but I have finished. Beginning this afternoon, one day's entry will be posted every second day until all are up. After today, all entries will go up at 6 AM EST.

I found typing up these final entries emotionally charged as I relived each day through the words that will be posted and the memories with which those words are associated. As before, I have made almost no changes to the original wording and content of the journal as I wrote it on the dates provided with each entry. Finally, there is a closure of sorts. It all remains open in some ways.

"You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore." (Anonymous)

College Food

Let's talk about food. College food, to be specific. I'm not talking about what emerges from the cafeterias, but rather what college students feed themselves beyond the cafeteria walls. I'll use myself as an example.

As a graduate student, I don't have a meal plan on campus (nor did I my final year of undergrad studies) so end up creating various concoctions which attempt to blend nutritious, delicious, and fast. We students have important things to do before classes start, you know, such as sitting out on the balcony reading the latest news and swimming laps in the Olympic-size outdoor pool that happens to be a five-minute walk from my dorm.

There are many approaches to college food, but one rule I follow (especially with our small sink) is that fewer dishes tends to be a good thing. Though I enjoy both cooking and washing dishes, I also enjoy getting creative with limited resources. Why whip up a ten-course meal on ten different plates with cutting boards and knives when you could make that same meal on one plate with a single knife (or you could just use the side of your fork as a knife then eat with that fork -- look, only two things to wash!). This meal-creation philosophy has led to some interesting foods over the course of my first four days back in dorm life. Two of my favorites, one old and one new, were
     1) the classic PB&J sandwich bulked up and healthified as two open-faced peanut-butter-and-apple sandwiches (I used whole wheat bread with walnuts, peanut butter ground directly from peanuts, and round apple slices) -- this would probably also be delicious with banana instead of apple - I could imagine enjoying one of each open-faced as a post-workout meal, and
     2) a new savory oatmeal (which I think I'm one of the few people in the world to find delicious, but it's just SO GOOD (and good for you)) with equal parts oats and black beans then half as much salsa -- I cooked up 1/2 cup of oats (in the microwave, as per the dish philosophy) then added 1/2 cup of black beans, cooked another half minute to warm the beans, and added 1/4 cup of salsa. Mmm.

You can go back to your 'real' food now, but know that I'll be sitting here enjoying my berry-and-nut-butter-topped greek yogurt in happy health. I wonder what tomorrow's oatmeal might be....

Life on the Farm

I have yet to become a cowgirl (though all that country music in NCCC got me a good step closer, as did that time with the chickens in Ghana), but I have moved to a farm. Leland Stanford's farm, to be specific. Yes, I've made it to Stanford for a wonderful year full of graduate study. Expect that blog posts may be even more sporadic, if such a thing is possible.

Before we hit the ground running with orientation and classes, I have a full two weeks to enjoy the end of summer. Now that I've figured out that my internet can be set up without an ethernet cable (it did involve extra steps but I figured them out so can feel almost as smart as my sister (the smart twin)), here are three great things about California living thus far:

1. Housing "Wait," you say, "didn't you have a terrible number in the housing lottery?" Why yes, I did! After ending up as number three-thousand-two-hundred-and-something out of 3500 lottery entries, I had to wait to the third round of the lottery to be assigned. I ended up on campus in a midrise single-converted-into-a-double. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the setup works well for a number of reasons:
     My roommate had moved in at the beginning of the summer and chose to take the living room (with the table and sofa) over the bedroom (with the actual door that actually closes). This left me with my own contained room, a nice plus.
     Since we're in a midrise, we get what almost no graduate housing has: a balcony. I got two outdoor armchairs yesterday (at grad-student prices on end-of-summer sale) and both our rooms open onto the balcony with sliding glass doors so we still get communal space even without a living room.
     Rent is awesome, lower even than at my last place, which we AmeriCorps types appreciate. This is only true in this particular type of housing so it works out pretty well.
     My roommate is an incredibly nice person. I assume this is true of most people (including these Stanford types), but it's still great to get that confirmation from meeting her.

2. Weather  According to The Weather Channel's website, the hottest months in Palo Alto are June and September. Both have average highs of 80 degrees Farenheit with average lows of 55 and 53 respectively. The coolest months are December and January, which have average highs of 59 degrees and average lows of 39 and 38 respectively. This allows for lots of time studying on the aforementioned balcony and enjoying the fall, winter, and spring sunshine which abound. I've decided to block out all memories of snowstorms for the present moment and enjoy our balcony.

3. Everything Organic  Sunday involved the discovery of a farmer's market near campus which charges reasonable prices for extremely high-quality produce, 80+% of which was organic, with all proceeds going directly to the farmers. I've decided that Sunday is my new grocery-shopping day. Lest you be concerned that this might end in the cold of winter winter, the farmer's market is held every Sunday year-round (see great thing #2: weather).

Yes, it's been two days and I'm already happy here. I get to spend my time picking classes, running errands, and meeting wonderful people. Today I enjoyed a two-hour lunch with one of my cohortmates, who just returned to the US in June from three years teaching English to students of all ages in China. I'm going to love it here.

I hope you're loving wherever you are! Enjoy the start of classes, school types!

[Note to Snan in light of her recent blog post: Isn't it amazing how we're so different given our amazing twin powers and general sameness? "It's like we're the same person. But not."]