There's a rat in the kitchen.

We have experienced lots of power cuts and days without internet service, so I can only hope that once this newsletter is completed, I can find a way to get it to you. This, amongst many other reasons, is why we constantly feel like we are trapped in a time warp in this country. Everything is so antiquated that I feel I should be investing in a pigeon that can get messages to you (that’s if the poor bird does not get eaten by someone here before it attempts to take off)…maybe I should try the message in a bottle system…however this could also prove hopeless, someone will swim out and grab it to claim the deposit on the bottle.

Getting back to the pigeon...you probably think I am joking about it being eaten. I am not! Anything that moves has a very limited life span….maybe this explains why the people of Ghana hardly move at all and spend so much time sleeping…if you move, you look alive, if you look alive, you get eaten. There is no bird life…on land or in the air. Only the bats, lizards and mosquitoes survive. A type of rodent species or cane rat that the locals call “Grass Cutters” is literally bred for eating. As you travel along the roads, vendors hold these giant rats upside down by their back legs for people to buy. Christopher has strange creatures added to his nightmares on a daily basis, just last weekend he was shocked to discover huge black snails, squashed in baskets on top of one another in a slimy pile waiting to be bought, cooked and eaten. His therapy is eminent!

The children have now had a full week back at school and are doing nicely. On Friday they were delighted to be invited for their first play date at a friend’s house after school. These friends are really jacked. Not surprising seeing as they have been in Ghana for nine years now and have no intention of returning home to South Africa. Their family consists of Mom, a part-time nurse for the Swiss UN, Dad who runs a gold excavation company, two little girls at school with Chris and Morgan, a gorgeous, fat cream Labrador who walks around with his food bowl in his mouth, a very over-friendly ginger cat called Buster, two bunnies and a parrot. All animals are kept safely behind extremely high walls (so as not to get eaten of course) Morgan thought she had gone to heaven. She spent the whole day with the cat on her lap. Now we have to put up with constant whining and pleading, “Please Mom, please Daddy can I have a cat….Pleeeeaaaassseeeee!” Once again when the repeated response is a negative one, mommy gets the evil eye. Later, that evening we joined the parents at a pub called Ryan’s which is the local South African hang out. Not very many of us I must admit, but it was great to get out and talk about home with much longing.

With the return to school, so came the return of the adventures of Chip, Biff and Kipper. They are really moving and shaking now as their adventures have progressed to six sentences as apposed to their previous four. We are so proud of Christopher, that every night we behave like stupid parents clapping and praising…you would swear he was the only child in the whole wide world able to read. Morgan has started getting homework too, so she feels she is sufficiently grown up to boss us all around (even more so than before) When she gets something wrong she proceeds to tell us we don’t know what we are talking about…(although when it comes to mom and the mathematics homework, she is probably right)

The trampoline, I am happy to report is a hit. Not only with the kids, but with mom too. Finally, I have found a form of exercise I actually enjoy, and the children laugh hysterically when it’s my turn to jump. I cannot understand why this activity provides them with such amusement…. I think I look rather smashing on a trampoline...weightless like a ballerina! Must be something I am missing, because the minute Victer comes outside in response to all the laughter, he laughs the loudest. Let us see whose laughing when I come home all toned and sexy.

Out of the last week we have had two rather cooler days than what we are used to by Ghanaian standards. For the first time in a long time, I braved the outside, abandoned my air-conditioned vehicle, and walked the streets of Ghana in search of white T-shirts for the kid’s sports at school. Did not find any T-shirts, but my driver looked quite shocked that I had walked. When I say cooler folks, I mean we could breathe easily without feeling like we had weights tied to our lungs, and the clouds had covered the sun, so it was quite pleasant. However, it was not to last…and yesterday the sun made up for its mishap, eggs could be fried on the sidewalk and the Ghanaians retreated back into sleep mode. (Kind of like hibernation, but in summer not winter)

On Saturday, the brain damaged parents gave in to the children once again and headed for White Sands beach. To our surprise the beach was quite empty, and we had an absolute ball. Victer and I managed to position ourselves nicely on our deckchairs so that we could watch the children swim and sipped on our pineapple juice. It was so empty that we felt like we were sitting on our own private beach, and we returned with fantastic tans and in remarkably high spirits for a change. We even took a short trip to have a look at the White Sands Beach Resort which is in the process of being completed by a very wealthy businessman in Ghana; we were quite impressed to say the least. The hotel was fantastic, could easily compare to something in Mauritius, and we decided right there and then that it could make a well-deserved break over one of the long weekends. Next time Shane and Natalie come and visit from Nigeria it might be a good idea to behave like Vaalies and escape to the resort with the children, buckets spades and all, not forgetting the braai.

Sunday was rather a sad day in the book of Cal and her nails. The nails I am distraught to report are just not managing in Ghana, and after one of my trips to my salon here, we made a joint and painful decision to surrender and chop the nails off. This, I am sure you can imagine is a huge hurdle and I feel like my fingers have been amputated…..Oh well…just one more thing to look forward to when I eventually return home. Who would ever have pictured a Caroline from Sandton, stuck in Accra, with nothing to shop for and no nails? It truly is an incredibly sad situation indeed… I think a moments silence is appropriate.

Today Victer is returning to Nigeria on business. I really get down when he goes. I know it is necessary for him to be completely successful here. I at least have the office to keep me busy during the day, it is the evenings which are hard as the house is just not really home, and I feel quite lost without him. His frustrations are endless, and I watch in amazement as he continues to battle each day, refusing to give up even though many a good man would have packed up and shipped home by now. I am beginning to realize why he desperately needed his family here with him, as without our continued support and words of comfort and reassurance a job like this is just not possible to accomplish in these surroundings. He has even commented that the children’s fighting and whining is music to his ears as long as he gets to come home to them. Once back in the car after a hard days work (chasing tails round in circles) a quick glimpse out the window reminds us that although we have many bad days, and a great yearning to come home, we are grateful for what we have waiting for us back home and so grateful that we are able to experience this.

“You cannot discover new oceans, unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.”

It goes without saying…. we love and miss you all more with each passing day.