Book Two: Back in Canada

With the ending of one chapter in your life another begins...

A lot has taken place since I last wrote. I arrived yesterday morning at the Halifax airport into the arms of someone I can now say I love. My flight left the airport in Accra Thursday morning at 9:40. My emotions were high, I felt anxious, sad, happy, sick, and tired. I went to bed knowing that I was going to have a stressful morning but waiting at a foreign airport with no passport in hand and your flight is due to leave in thirty minutes how could you prepare yourself.

The last two weeks were two of the toughest weeks of my life as you read in my last post. I had a very difficult time dealing with all that was happening. The fact that my health was not well did not make the situation easier. My temperature was high, I was experiencing the worst migraines I'd ever had, ears were aching, stomach was a mess and I was vomiting... but not out my mouth(sorry but you learn quickly that poop talk is part of life sometimes). This caused me to worry extremely.
I guess this is a good time, for those of you who don't know before I left for Ghana I was told by the doctors that it was a terrible idea and I shouldn't do it. I had been sick on and off for four months but it wasn't until two months before they realized what was wrong. I was experiencing trouble with my kidney. One day in February I went home from volleyball to pee pure blood. I had no idea what to think and was terrified so honestly I continued to hop in the shower until I got a clear mind to tell myself to go to the hospital. When I went to the hospital they asked the typical questions and took a urine test. They told me it was just a bladder infection and sent me home. Well it wasn't until a week later when I was feeling terrible that I went to the student health clinic to find out the emergency room had sent the school a letter saying, "Contact this girl immediately!"(which might I say, they didn't). The doctors ran some test and still had no idea what was going on. She sat me down and listed off every terrible health condition you don't ever want to hear your doctor say you might have and said we're going to have to run further tests to see what it is and sent me off to volleyball practice. Well let's just say the next two months were very stressful. I had blood and urine tests done weekly as well as some x-rays and a ultra sound.
All this is happening and you realize, oh yeah, life you're still happening.
I was accepted into Intercordia in January before all this bad news started coming. The Intercordia class was my escape. I came, got to be with people who had the same passion for life and others life that I held and it was amazing. Each class I went to was like a free appointment with world's best mental coach. When I'd leave the class my favourite little lady and I would talk about how relaxing the class was(We promise this is not solely because of the comforting sound of our professor's voice. Him reading a loud the dictionary could send anyone into a state of mental relaxation). It really became my escape. This escape feeling only got better the day I found out my placement, I was going to a place where I had always seen myself in my dreams, it was happening.
It was three weeks before I was leaving that I had to allow my escape and reality collide, I had to inform my doctor that in three weeks I was leaving for Ghana. When I told her her face dropped, it honestly makes me laugh when I think about it. "So since I can't take Advil, Pepto, I have to eliminate red meat and cut back something serious on all other proteins and all these other things but do you think me Malaria pills are okay?" The look on her face, oh man, I shouldn't laugh but. Immediately she knew I was taken off somewhere. She started quizzing me on where I was going and definitely did not like it when I replied, "Ghana". She looked right at me and asked if this could wait until next year and I said preferably not. I didn't say this out of spite to get a thrill but I said this because she had just informed me that I would need to see a kidney specialist and it was going to take 3-4 months to get an appointment anyways.
And it wasn't until a week before my leaving day that I one hundred percent decided that I was going. I decided that I wasn't going to sit around and be sick at home for 3 or 4 months till I could find out that there is either something serious wrong with me or it's very minor and will heal on it's own with my changes I'm making and attention on it. I did not want to be the "sick" person, I didn't want to tell anyone I was "sick", they don't even know if I'm sick so why put myself through 3 or 4 months of "why aren't you working your two jobs rather than just one, why aren't playing beach this year, why aren't you coming out tonight" all the questions I would be asked(with the exception of "why aren't you eating meat anymore?" which definitely came up on more than one occasion in Ghana). Until I know something is seriously wrong I am not going to be the sick person.
With this your now up to speed on today, why I am back in Canada. The doctor told me if anything were to happen and I was to even get the smallest thing as a sore throat that I needed to see the doctor to ensure it was nothing that could grow into something serious thus having some affect on my kidney and what not. So when I feel sick last week, I knew, I knew I was coming home. I had be very lucky, I had made it two full months without even a cough, sneeze, nothing and now it was hitting me all at once like a brick wall. I was sick and had to go to the hospital. At the hospital I had blood tests done, which they checked me for malaria and said it did not show up in my blood but I had all the symptoms of it and they would be treating me for it anyways. Immediately I knew. I called Mom in tears when I got home, I knew I would have to come home. I thought well I should stay, it's only a month if there's something wrong it can't get that bad in a month could it? It took me a week to decide continue being sick for the next month and actually be the sick person I was avoiding being in Canada or go home and get shit straightened out. It wasn't until I spoke with my Nanners that I knew what I had to do. See me and Nanners have this thing, people think were crazy but when you know somethings there, an intuition, between two people you know. I hadn't spoken to her much since I had come away but my phone rang while I was laying in bed crying, talking to God, trying to figure out what to do, it was Nanners. We spoke just a quick and short conversation but in the end I was relaxed and felt okay about changing my ticket.
And that is why I arrived back in Canada. I have an appointment with that doctor to make sure things are okay, which they will be(got to be positive). I am happy to be home. I will never regret my choice in leaving and feel like this experience has made me grow so much as a person. This is just the ending of a chapter in my life and the beginning of another, Book Two I'm calling it, Back in Canada.
I am really thankful to everyone who has followed my blog this far and am happy to say that I had so many more stories that I hope you will still come here and read. Just because I'm back in Canada does not mean the experience is over. An experience as such is everlasting in one's life and this I will be a signatory for.

Getting over the hump...

There’s so much to tell you. Where to start? I hope you don’t mind if I skip ahead a few weeks to this week and go back…

This week has been by far my most difficult week here. I have cried almost everyday, if not twice. When I woke up on Tuesday morning, at my usual 530am, to do my workout before getting ready for school, I felt not right. I didn’t know what is was but I decided I’d take the morning off and just read until breakfast. After breakfast I headed off to school for the day and after school attended our one hour Dangme class(I’ll write on this later I promise). After class I had asked my best friend/co-teacher if we could go visit our student, David, who had not been in class for two weeks due to sickness, of course she said yes. When we arrive to David’s house his sister said when she returned home from school David was not at the house nor were their parents so they realized David was taken to the hospital again. With this information we could do nothing but return home, pray for David and come again the next day.
At this point I should explain since I arrived here in Ghana I have struggled with seeing the sick and sickness. I knew coming here that I was going to be exposed to new sicknesses and different methods of healing, healthcare just wasn’t going to be the same. Something I didn’t realize though was how much of a profound affect seeing the children I taught or seen around the school daily falling sick would have on me. Each day I check the register(attendance sheet/feeding collection record) and each day my eyes are always focused on those who have the circles by their names, absent is what that means. And each day I check again to see if there is another circle or if the student has returned. I was also told that lately, because it is the rainy season, there is more children sick then in the other semesters of the year. Trying to take that into consideration, I can’t eliminated my worries one little bit. I feel helpless. Some students, well most student still come to school when they are sick. Well as I said this is my struggle so when I do have students out for a week or two, visiting them if they live in the village is definitely what I’ve been trying to do.
After my friend dropped me at my house on our way back from attempt to visit David, one of the children I visit with sometimes came by the house. I realized that she lived with one of my other students who had been out over a week so tagged along and walked her home. When I showed up at this student’s house the mother said she sent her to fetch medicine so I sat down and waited her return. While I sat the mother started talking to me. She asked me why I didn’t come yesterday and send her daughter to the hospital; this kind of caught me like a left hook. Then she went on to say if she sends her daughter to school tomorrow will I bring her medicine.
Well after my failed visit to David’s I was upset enough to find out he was taken to hospital again and now to have a mother asking me to pay for her hospital visit and medicine for her daughter, it was all too much. Well at this point in my story I have two unsuccessful visits to my students and have an internal battle happening inside me so I hit the hay early.
When my alarm went off the next morning I noticed I had a missed message on my phone so I opened it and immediately I was glowing. My sister had her baby, Gage Daniel, 9 pounds, born at 622pm the night before! I was ecstatic, sad I missed it but ecstatic. I was so excited for all the other girls to wake up so I could tell them but it was only 530 and the others didn’t get out of bed till 7. Well again I wasn’t feeling well, it wasn’t I was sick but it wasn’t a feeling good feeling, I felt weird I can’t explain it but for a second day I held off on my morning workout.
Seven o’clock rolled by quickly though as I did some reading and got ready for school but then there was a knock on my door, breakfast is ready I thought. But when it opened it was my best friend/co-teacher. We exchanged our good mornings and that’s when I knew something was up. She went on to tell me that David had died late into the night at the hospital and that his funeral was going to be that day. Holding myself together as much as possible I said alright and she was gone to tell our headmaster.
Once my door closed I burst into tears. I was just there to visit yesterday. We were going to visit him today. An hour and a half ago I was just on a high and now the day turned bittersweet. I pulled myself together to make sure I was at class on time, ready to be there for the students as well as friends but when I arrived it was class as any other day.
There was much more to this day, David was buried in the late afternoon and we as the nursery/the school attended his funeral. The kids sung for him, danced for him and were all there for him. I broke down to, I’m embarrassed to say, be picked up by David’s family.
As I said this day was very bittersweet for me. A new beautiful baby boy was brought into my life while another beautiful boy was taken out. It really is mysterious the way God works. (With this I’d like to ask that everyone reading to please keep David and his family in your prayers and I want to remind everyone to make sure you don’t wait until someone’s sick to visit, do it now)
But my week is not over… well. I woke up the next day with the worst headache and earache I’ve ever had and I was running a temperature. I laid in bed most of the day and on Canada Day went to the hospital. They did blood tests and they showed negative for malaria but as I write to you I am on meds for malaria because the doctor said just because it didn’t show in my blood he feels all the symptoms are there so wants to treat me for it. I’ve been in bed the past two days and am happy to say I feel a bit better.
Now to deal with the other things that is beating me up… my brother is getting married today and I’m missing it. This wasn’t a planned thing, a situation arose at home and he is doing the right thing getting married, I am just very very very sad I am missing it. I feel like the worst sister in the world and I want to send out the biggest apology and congratulations to him and his new WIFE! You both are such beautiful people and I am so happy for the two of you.
I’m sorry for this upsetting post but in the beginning I said home is where the heart is and this was my home so I hope you can read my story and understand where I’m at right now. I knew things were going to be tough and I did have to read my bad day letter but things will get better, they always do. I’m just trying to focus on the good but had to let out the bad for first. Love you all and I’ll write again soon it’ll be cool stuff I promise!

World Cup Fever Part 2: “Thank you Jesus!”

Well first round is over folks, no more round robin, it’s sudden death from here on out.

Our match was scheduled for June 26^th, Ghana vs. United States. The opinions around the village were mixed, “If we don’t make changes then we’re going home” “Ghana is taking the cup” “If we get two we’ll win, one is not enough, United States is good”. I was also told from home we had no chance, Ghana was ranked 30^th and United States was 15^th but I had a good feeling.

I decided I watched the game over at my friends house just at the back of the village and at half time I’d run over to check out one of my students house who lived close by. Twelve of us sat around a 13” black and white TV with the contrast counter stuck up across the bottom of the screen. We were in a small room with the door open so we could all “fit”(there were five of us outside the door on chairs) and see the TV. Something too I didn’t realized until right now was we were all women or girls but one. Some of the girls had whistles as well as one of the women while the rest of us just clapped, cheered, yelled and prayed?

Bahaha… I put prayed with a question mark because the whole game from my best friend/mommy here it was, “JESUS! JESUS! JESUS!”(all in different tones, I’d say one in thanks, one out of nerves and the other when US got a penalty kick, shotter inside the 18 yard box, Kingston studdered and bam. US scores.) “THANK YOU JESUS”(after the first goal for Ghana, after all the nice saves by Kingston) “LORD GIVE US HOPE!”(in anticipation of another goal, the last ten minutes of the game to keep Ghana tied at 1-1, the last shot in overtime that soared in the US net!) 2-1 for Ghana, yep that’s right folks, Ghana did it again! They posted the W! The village was bumping again…

Next up, GHA vs. URU!

World Cup Fever Part 1: “Now wave your flag, now wave your flag…”

Music pumping out of three four foot speakers, village rumbling while members of the community running about cheering and yelling. Yes sir, the world cup is happening; every Ghanaian television is tuned in!

Our first game was on June 13^th. The whole village bussing, “are you going to watch the football game? Where? It’s on at __ come over and watch”. Yellow, green and red everywhere, shirts, pants, flags, taxi and trow trow decorated, flags wrapped around heads, market workers with the flags wrapped around their business clothes, the colors literally everywhere. Me and the other volunteers headed across the village to one of our host family’s house. We filed into, with the father, children and a few of their friends, the living room. We all watched in excitement, the village so oddly quiet, everyone inside their houses tuned into their televisions. So I sat in a chair in the corner of the room, curled up, quiet as a mouse, holding it all back.

If you know me you know I am not a football’er. I don’t have the natural touch nor can I scout out the whole field in seconds to make the perfect pass but one thing I do have is the heart, I love the game. I was brought up a daddy’s girl, watching the world cup every year it was on from my dad’s lap, him yelling in my ear, “the yellow, the red, the black! It’s their year, It’s their year!!”(typical diehard fan… to bad he supports Germany). This wasn’t brought to the rest of the rooms attention until the first shot on goal and my accidental muttering of, “Bullshit…” and the little laugh that followed that they realized how into the game I was.

The game was intense and I couldn’t keep quiet so I started talking to one of the other volunteers. I had mentioned one of my good friends who is a really good goalie and started talking about one day when he was sharing his “secrets”(sorry about this!). He was telling how difficult it was to judge a penalty kick and how sometimes it comes down to a last second decision of left or right? Which way is it going? Then you jump. I continued my story of how he said intimidation is one of the key factors(kind of like Life of Pi and the determining who is the Alpha male). Was it not seconds later the volunteers phone rang and a call was made in the game resulting in a penalty kick for Ghana! Insane or what?! My friends host father got up and left the room, just shaking his head, he could not watch. We all waited…(at this point my fellow Canadians, think of Olympic moment of Sydney Crosby skating up to the net to shot the last shot of the game…). He shots, he… SCORES!!!!!!!! We all jumped out of our seat, cheering in excitement, some grabbed the person next to them, so exciting! You could hear the distant cheers from around the village. We were all glowing with excitement, well I know me as well as all the Ghanaians in the room were! I yelled from my friend’s host father to get inside, we scored, we scored! It was all so exciting. For the rest of the match we sat in nerves, 80^th minutes, 81^st minute, 89^th minutes…It wasn’t until the 92^nd minute that it was over and the Black Stars had done it! The village was loud, people running through cheering with their flags, the speakers came alive and it was an incredible experience, a complete celebration. Game one for Ghana and we were on top! Fun fact to this wonderful story, The coach of Ghana is actually from Serbia so he beat his own homeland!

Well that was game one and there were two more to follow for sure, Australia and Germany. The Australia game landed on the 19^th. This day was very difficult for me. I had attended a funeral for my best friend/mommy here, her aunt(this is something I will write about later but don’t feel appropriate mentioning it in World Cup Fever). The funeral left me very upset so I decided watching the game was not what I was to do that night. Though I didn’t watch the sounds of the village allowed me to understand the turn out of the game. The intense cheering and music when Ghana scorded then the final time being up and just hearing the villagers take a casual walk home, it was either a tie or lose, which I found out early the next morning was a tie.

But the Ghanaian pride did not stop! If anything there were more flags popping up, more playing of “Wavin’ Flag” out of the speakers before bed and the best I would say, the three boys who walked the village, one in a yellow shirt, one in a green shirt and the last in a red shirt. The football fans were anxious, would we qualify, we had to wait our final match results as well as the others.

June 23^rd, Ghana vs. Germany. This was a big one, not only for placement but for pride. I wasn’t feeling well so ended up staying in and found out later we lost 1-0, oh could I hear my dad now... I was surprised when I found out Ghana ended up qualifying because of their amazing first performance and tie! I was also surprised to find out when I called my dad that the diehard Germany fan was cheering for Ghana and asked me why we lost, my jaw absolutely dropped.