A day in the life

Hey, so I've decided to do a typical-day type entry because I've realized that whenever I blog I go on about whatever happened on the weekend and don't say a whole lot about what I do during the week. The vague (and perhaps cliché) concept of "volunteering in an orphanage" has become my life, so here's a look at what happened on Friday.
(before I get to that, I should mention that on thursday I DID buy a new camera, from a guy on a sidewalk in Accra.. kind of depressing to see all the used cameras (some still with pictures on them), half-expecting so see mine somewhere.. got a really good deal on one that does the job, and threw in a memory card and some AA batteries. I should also mention the semi-ordeal of getting a police report about my stolen stuff for my insurance claim, when I went to the station and after the police officer made a big fuss about me making him write out a new report after he left out some major details, then ask for "extra payment" for the redo, aka a bribe, then he had the nerve to ask if I would marry him.. oh Ghana)

6:30am - woke up, went to well to fetch water and poured into bucket for shower, got dressed, walked down to kitchen where our cook, Joyce, prepared pancakes Ghana-style (I put sugar on top considering the lack of maple syrup in this part of the world)

7:15am - walked down the road to buy food for Yaw, went back to hostel to pack bag for the day (journal, camera, french books, bags of water, Yaw food, phone, room key), put pancakes on a plate for Gizelle (who lives at the orphanage now to be the primary caretaker of the only child with HIV),

7:30am - arrived at orphanage (just next door), gave Gizelle her breakfast. She'd been up since 4:30 when one of the older girls, Esther, wanted to give her Yaw (if you're wondering who looks after him when I'm not around, it's mainly these two, as well as Sophie from Sweden who left last week.. lots of teamwork). The kids get up at this time normally... Ghanaians just don't sleep! Gizelle left to wash dishes and I stayed with Yaw to feed him and play with him. Brought him outside and sat with some other little ones and blew bubbles, watching while the rest of the kids lined up before marching into the classrooms. Kids were whipped, not sure why.. sad how you hear it all day, like background noise..

later - brought Rosemary and Jon-Jon to Gizelle's room to play, in between patching up kids' scraped knees and cut toes, and throwing diapers in the garbage heap behind the orphanage.

11am - French for class 3, a handful of kids around 10 years old. Taught them the "sur, sous, dans, avant, derrière" song among other things and they loved it

12pm - went back to hostel for lunch (rice and pasta, then walked down to a shop nearby and bought a Sprite in a glass bottle), journaled

1 pm - back at orphanage, fed Yaw (spooned him cream of wheat stuff I bought this morning while I had a bunch of hot little bodies climbing all over me, trying to get a taste of whatever drippled from his chin), dressed him (he'd made a mess of his clothes while I was gone, came back to him in just a diaper),

-starting to draw blanks-.. I believe I swept Gizelle's room at this point.. a semi-futile endeavor.. had to run to get the broom from our hostel because the bunch of sticks tied together that's usually used went missing...

later... said goodbye to the 4 canadian girls whose 3 weeks teaching at the orphanage came and went so quickly.. they taught our national anthem to the kids yesterday and that was a lot of fun.

later.. sewed Ebenezer's backpack that was full of rips (remember him from when I talked about the penpals?), then watched the kids have their drumming and dancing lesson, and loaded some pictures onto the Royal Seed laptop.

5pmish- took delapidated tro-tro to Kasoa and went to internet cafe.. started this entry.

later.. was by myself at the hostel as everyone else had gone travelling for the weekend. Had banku for supper.. like a ball of dough that you eat with your hands (or rather, just your right hand) and dip into stew, usually just a bath of palm oil and tomato paste and whatever else they throw in, sometimes fish or spinach.. its actually really good.

Enjoy the pics, I'm sure glad I can take them again. Stuff like pickpocketing is kind of predictable and it didn't help that I was in an African capital at night after getting off a 13 hour busride from Tamale.. it just sucks when it actually happens to you. I still love this place, where..
- you go to a smelly police station and the prisoners poke their heads out from behind the bars and say "how are you?", as you hesitate to respond in the same way
- you can buy anything from superglue to cowboy hats from your car window on the way to Accra
- you hear the Muslim call to prayer every few hours (despite being predominantly Christian in this area)
- getting around is as easy as pointing to the ground when you see a tro-tro coming.. would be nice to have the same Ofaakor-Accra type of transit from Perth-Ottawa, lol
- the kids call you "Sister Erika" or "Madame".. and if they don't know you, just shout "obruni!!"

hope all is well on your side of the Atlantic
-Erika

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Part of trip: Ghana

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