Another day in Ghana....

The war against the mosquito continues. Was shocked to discover that without malaria medication we were in serious trouble, something I might add the travel clinic in South Africa neglected to tell us. So, we took a trip to one of the well-known local clinics here. That was an experience. Larium was suggested, which we started taking, only to find that this medication has serious side effects and cannot be taken for a long period of a year under any circumstances. Everything that is said in Ghana needs to be checked and double checked or a person could die! It would just be my luck, that in the first week, one of the many side effects from the medication surfaced… with a vengeance! I spent the weekend with my entire body covered in an angry, burning, and itchy rash. I could have literally scratched the skin off my bones. More research was required, and battle strategies reassessed. At the end of my travels in the land of medical knowledge and the internet, I now proudly refer to myself as Caroline, PhD, wife & mother. The whole family is sorted on medication and to add to their woes this psychotic mother not only sprays when looked at but shovels tablets down their throats, as you can imagine I am not much liked.

Morgan and Chris have finally been accepted at a fantastic school called The Three Bears. Such a huge relief, not only for us but for them too. Everyday my heart went out to them as they continued to battle on in an environment of teachers who were very unwilling to assist. Frustrations grew daily, resulting in many a tear from two very exhausted little ones after a stressful and hot day at school where they felt they were achieving very little. It is a sad fact that South African children are considered extremely far behind here and are also made to feel just that. So unfair to the kids who just thrive on a small amount of praise they never seem to get. However, things are now looking up. There is also a young teacher there who works with special needs children and she seems wonderful. Chris will also have a male teacher for a change which I think will do him the world of good. Will keep you all posted on their progress.

We decided to broaden our Ghana experience and drove deep into the centre of Accra town on Sunday. “Deepest, Darkest Africa” at its finest. I find it exceedingly difficult to put this experience in words that could paint an exact picture for you and feel that even photographs would not do it justice. Bear with me while I try… Everywhere on the pavements and spare pieces of concrete are bodies. If you did not know better, you would be convinced you had gone back in time to the scenes from concentration camps in Germany. Seriously the people all look dead, just as if they are about to be thrown into mass graves. However, on closer inspection they are alive, just sleeping, all on top of one another in a great big pile of slumbering bodies. All around you woman are smoking pilchards, and because of this pilchard preparation process, the floor is covered in fish guts and fish heads. The smell is horrendous, escalating as the heat of the day rises on the hour. On a lighter note, the intense colours are delightful. Sunday is the day all Ghanaians come out in full Ghanaian attire. The cloths are woven through their arms and thrown over their shoulders in cascading folds of bright greens, yellows, and reds (the colours of the Ghanaian flag). Children flock to your vehicle in mobs, pressing their wet little noses and grubby hands to the windows. “Madaam” they beg and walk with the car – perseverance worthy of awards. Do not exit your vehicle! Exiting would result in an attack of bartering and pleading, leaving you emotionally drained and broken hearted to say the least.

Our next journey took us into the Abri Mountains. About an hour outside of Accra on roads full of potholes and goats. Your view from the windows are of shacks, woman doing washing in open buckets and many chickens. At the top of the mountain pass, all the local carpenters gather and sell their goods in little shops made of wood. The prices here are rumoured to be the best country wide. We bought several African artifacts for our property on the Vaal. They take such pride in their work and many of the pieces are so cheap I was baffled as to how they afford to buy the wood let alone make any money out of their labour. Hundreds of little stores are full of workers and carvers who call and call for you to give them your attention, after a while it gets very loud and crowded. Not to mention that none of these stores have air conditioning and being in the mountains, the heat and buzzing of insects becomes too much to bear and you run soaking wet to the welcoming air conditioned vehicle .Running just as fast behind you are the carpenters, arms piled high with goodies, hoping for a last desperate sale. Once in the vehicle you stick to your seat in a moist, wet mess. Never again will I curse winter at home, I will welcome it with open arms.

There are times, dear friends, I wish to hold up my little white flag and surrender willingly and graciously, at least if nothing else, I have learnt to really and truly love my country and to be grateful for the luxuries we have there, and I keep reminding myself…..

A year is so short in the bigger scheme of things, and one that will hold a whole host of personal challenges for me, and growth in what is usually a very extraordinarily fortunate life. It is in these moments that I will discover the most about myself. How boring life would be if we never did these things. I just need to see to it that in terms of comfort we get the best of what Ghana has to offer. The thing is that as a wife and mother I am the cornerstone upon which all emotions lie. I also must believe in providence, and I am certain that there is a guided reason as to why I am here.

Home and my loved ones remain, and when I return all will be as it was, as if I had never left, as are friendships. I will appreciate home a whole lot more after my return. I know that you guys know little of what I am doing, seeing, and feeling here; however, it is an experience. I am trying to embrace a little more each day and perhaps one day will find the annoying African slowness amusing.

Love Always