Workin' It - The Ghanaiain Way

Okay Guys,

First I need to start off by saying a humongous kafra (ka-FRAH), sorry, for my lengthy absence from the online scene. I don't know whether to blame it on the fact that when I made the 37min trek here to "Greenland" (the Internet cafe) last week the light (ie. power) was off, so no dice - or the fact that I have been too totally enraptured with, and immersed in, life here to make the trek again sooner. Regardless I am here now, and dying to fill you all in!

A few days after my last blog I moved from the sweltering bustle of Accra, the country's vibrant capitol, to Swedru, my home for the remainder of my time in Ghana. Swedru is a town of 7000, four hours to the west (and a wee bit north) of Accra. According to the weather man, that "wee bit north" is all it takes to separate Swedru from Greater Accra's 'coastal region' and place it firmly in the 'jungle region.' In addition to being titularly more exotic the jungle region - or at least it's inhabitants - enjoy temperatures that are ~ 5 degrees cooler: Thank God. Don't get me wrong though, even my teeth sweat from the exertion of sitting absolutely still, and I tend to sweat through at least a couple of shirts per day. But enough scene setting.

I anxiously met my host family - the complete strangers from a radically different culture with whom I would be spending the next 2.75months - and instantly hit it off!

Uncle Kojo, my 34 year old host father, is a high school history teacher and administrator. Unfortunately his school is in a town some distance away for he will often stay there for days at a time. When he is around, we have lively conversations about customs in Ghana vs. Canada and the history of Ireland. His quick speech is perforated with pensive pauses to find the right word to ensure eloquence.

Aunty Efua (A-foo-ah), also 34, is a primary school teacher who helps manage the family hair salon next door ("Best and Humble Hair Salon" absolutely no joke!). And, as such, always has a funky doo. She is between 6 and 7 months pregnant, is serene, and displays the maternal instinct to feed her "young" as much as physically possible. Her "young" being Awompa, my two and a half year old host sister, and myself.

I love Awompa. I am trying to get her to hop up on a piece of bread for me so that I can eat her up. She is absolutely adorable and gorgeous in the way that only young black children can be. Along with many other useful English words (such as "koala bear," "Buzz Lightyear," and "time" - none of which really exist in Ghana) I taught her to say "I am proud to be Canadian" which (after adorning her dress with the shiny maple leaf stickers I brought for her) she ran around the place squealing gleefully!

So my family rules.

Next big uncertainty was my job - you know, one of the main reasons I'm here...

I started my volunteer work at Nsaba (IN-sab-AH) Health Clinic on Monday morning. [N.B. Transportation and food in Ghana are both breathtaking and exhilarating (not to mention among my favorite aspects of my time here thus far) enough to deserve their own posts, ergo, I will devote a future blog post these subjects] so suffice to say after being well "fed" I "got" to the clinic which is just outside Nsaba (surprise surprise), a town ~25min "drive" from Swedru. In keeping with my expectations consistently being proven to come from left field, (or Mars or Canada), the clinic was not what I had in mind. It is better.

On my first day I met the bountiful and boisterous staff of nurses, matrons, orderlies and the one doctor, Chief, who is quite ill and often absent. The only other males are Sly, the outreach driver who comes biweekly, and Justice, whose business managing records often takes him to Accra and Cape Coast. I toured the facilities (main ward, immunization room, maternity ward, emergency room, outreach centre, as well as a records office, and dispensary) which were almost disappointingly sanitary. No lizards, cockroaches or lions running through the clinic. I was then put to work.

I was taught how to take and record vitals (temperature, weight, and blood pressure, glean and record all symptoms) and proceeded to make myself useful for the rest of the day. By my second day I was given preliminary training in giving I.V. (a technique that's used like it's going out of style) by the end of the day I'd stuck my first patient, and on the first vein, was successful! A proud moment to be sure! Day three (Wednesday) was outreach.

On Wednesdays and Thursdays I arrive at the clinic around 5:30am and with Sly, our driver, and a shock squad of three other nurses, head out into the bush to mega rural villages. Even after 6 such outings, it is still a little surreal to be sitting in the back of a pickup truck, pelting down a highway only to suddenly pull off the road (at seemingly random), drive along dry river beds for 25 minutes with cocoa trees casting green-filtered light and giant spiders (okay that only happened once) down on us before materializing in a little community of clay houses, tin roofs and nike T-shirts. We spend Wednesdays immunizing and weighing babies (by my third day I had jabbed a poor wee chubby baby in the deltoid - but I can sleep at night with the knowledge that his squeals of pain (and those of his subsequent comrades who have since cried at the end of my needle) will be transformed into peels of laughter as they grow up happy and healthy. So in three days I had covered perhaps months of nursing school.

Thursdays are more about education. We go to rural schools to educate children and parents about malaria prevention, basic "home treatment" first aid methods, and sex ed. I also (obviously) managed to fit a little anatomy song in there by singing "Head and Sholders" to a class of 4 year-olds.

I haven't time for detail now, but some of the medical conditions we've seen at the clinic or on outreach so far are:

<WARNING: some very graphic content>

malaria galore, severe dehydration, malnutrition, kwashikor (starvation), a girl who's tumble into the open sewer was a little more serious than mine as her septic leg gashes attested, the results of assaults and motor vehicle accidents, a girl whose wound from stepping on sharp bamboo harboured a maggot, a boy who chopped his thumb off with a machete (which the doctor reattached), a boy who melted half of his face off with boiling water, an 8 year old boy with very advanced tetanus, and one 43 year old man with AIDS.

Sorry to get really heavy all of a sudden. It can get pretty intense sometimes, but I came here, among other reasons, to have my eyes opened and the only times I have closed them are a few death-defying moments on the public transit system, once when Aunty Efua was preparing dinner, and when the boy was having his thumb reattached. As extreme as many of these experiences so far seem (and certainly they are extreme) maladies of similar magnitude (though different cause) could be observed in an emergency ward of any western hospital.

Before I depart for another indeterminate length of time, I need the obligatory blog personal tidbits: I finished "The Time Traveller's Wife" and loved it. I finished "By the Seat of my Pants: A Collection of Humorous Travel Misadventures" and thought it was very hit and miss (though mostly miss). I have started "The Great Gatsby" and am loving it. I have written several songs here (I guess my muse is African). Have the Oscars happened? I (somewhat ridiculously) made a concerted effort this year to see all of the major nominees, and now I can think of few things that are less relevant. As well as "Canada," I have given up "not doing my 8 minute abs (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWjTnBmCHTY) everyday" for lent - as Aunty Efua's delicious food will have me awfully roley poley upon my return.

And that's it for another installment. I hope that you are all safe and well - you can rest assured that I certainly am. And well fed.