Happy. Sad.

Wow. My last week in Ghana is here. It's so hard to believe that eight months have passed so quickly. I remember the first three weeks went so slowly that I didn't imagine I would ever make it to the end. But, it's here.

Of course, my emotions are all over the place...I am feeling so happy and excited to be going home, but at the same time it will be difficult to leave the friends I have made and the country that has embraced me for the past eight months.

The past two weeks have gone by quickly. I've been busy preparing for my trip home...buying gifts, sorting through the clothes I brought with me, making room for the new clothes I've had made, and trying to find anything tasty to eat. I made rice and BAKED beans the other night. What??? Yeah...it wasn't the greatest, but it was filling. I'm so tired of the food here. It's sad when you actually look forward to the airplane food!

I visited one of my friend's brothers in the hospital last weekend. One more story to make us aware of how incredibly lucky we are to live in America. Kamilu is 33 years old and is from Ghana, but has been working as a house painter in Libya for the past three years. Apparently, the job opportunities are better there. About two months ago, he was painting a three-story building, working from scaffolding, and fell. He was in a coma for a few days, and ultimately I believe he broke his back. He had one operation in Libya, before he wanted to be transferred to Ghana. The hospital conditions were less-than-ideal in Libya. So began the transfer process. I think it took about three weeks and several attempts to finally board the plane. His friends pitched in for the ticket and on one try, he made it to the airport, only to be denied entry on the flight because the doctor had forgotten to sign the transfer letter. (Keep in mind that each trip to the airport required a taxi and multiple people to accompany him and his luggage. Plus he can not move from the waist down).

Finally Kamilu was able to make the flight from Tripoli to Accra. His friends in Ghana picked him up (with another taxi) to make the four-hour drive to his hometown. He stayed with his family for a few days before heading to the hospital, where he waited for two full days to be admitted, which happened only after his family gave a bribe of 100 cedis (100 dollars) and provided 300 of the 600 cedis the hospital demanded before he would even be looked at by a doctor.

Fast forward three weeks. Kamilu has been in the hospital, staying in a men's ward with 11 other men. Twelve beds in a room with a single ceiling fan in the center of the room. One television at the end of the room. No privacy. After three weeks, a doctor still had not examined him. Each day a nurse took his temperature. That's it. In fact, no food is provided, either, so his mother cooks for him each day and takes a taxi to and from the hospital. His girlfriend and his mother bathe him, too...lifting him out of and back into his bed. There are bugs everywhere; so his food and water supplies are covered with a cloth on the table beside him.

Thankfully, in the past few days, Kamilu has been examined by the doctors. He was told two things. First, that they may not be able to treat him there; that instead he may need to go to a more expensive hospital in Accra. Secondly, they may be able to treat him there, by massaging his back. His hand is broken, too, but there is no cast and it just hangs limp at his side. How do people recover from injuries like this in Ghana? I am afraid the sad and simple answer is that they don't.

In a strange full-circle moment, I have contacted Scott Jones, the counselor at Nelsen Middle School, where I teach in America. The students and community have raised the $26,000 necessary to ship a container full of lightweight wheelchairs (550) for some of the disabled people in Ghana. I have asked that one of the wheelchairs be sent to Kamilu.

And on a happier note, during these past few weeks, I've been invited to attend the start-up meetings for a local NGO (Non-Governmental Organization) that Aminu, Francis, Atu, Amidu, and several other businessmen and women are starting to help the needy children in Cape Coast. It has been so humbling to attend these meetings and listen to the goals and ideals of this group of Ghanaians and see their desire to help the less-fortunate children in their community.

Right now they are just in the planning stages. The goal of the NGO is to provide support and mentoring for children who don't have the support they need. Each of the members runs a business in Cape Coast; for example, several of the men are shop owners and sell African goods. One is a carpenter, and one lady dyes and sells batik fabrics. They hope to be able to mentor children who are interested in learning a specific skill or seeing how a business works. Eventually they would also like to be able to provide financial support towards the children's education fees.

To come to Ghana as a volunteer and then to see a group of local people creating their own volunteer organization is amazing. Some of these guys make (at most) about 50 dollars a month, and here they are trying to think of ways to better their community. They're thinking of how much money they can each save a week to establish a scholarship fund.

They have been so professional, too. The way they run their meetings blows my mind; I'm the one always interrupting, forgetting I have to wait to be called on. The meetings have been conducted in English, too, solely for my benefit. They have chosen officers and have consulted the NGO office to seek advice about the best ways to begin. I am excited to hear more about the group as it becomes established in the community.

I am so proud of the people I know. The students and staff at Nelsen Middle School, and the community in Renton...I am continually amazed at your ability to raise such a significant amount of money to give to the people of Ghana that need it most. You can never know how much a simple plastic lawn chair with wheels can change a person's entire life, and to give them back the dignity they have lost along the way.

My American friends and family: not only did you provide moral support before I left and while I've been here, but you have contributed to my cause financially. I can't imagine how much money has been spent on care packages, phone cards, and postage. You've kept up my supply of protein bars, almonds, contact solution, pedicure supplies, People Magazines, band-aids, and chocolate. And then you go and donate over $700 to the education funds of the four young adults I have met here, simply because I asked you to. I am in awe of your never-ending generosity.

My Ghanaian friends and family: you have shown me how to live in Ghana. You have patiently tried to teach me Twi, Fante, and Hausa, languages which my brain stubbornly refuses to remember. You have reminded me (on a daily basis) that in some places, it is good to be fat. =) You have kindly forced me to try the local dishes. You have taken me to weddings and funerals, fetched my water for me and laughed at me when I fetched my own. You have kindly greeted me every morning, afternoon, and evening.

I will miss you, Ghana!

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