Mama Liz's Journal
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1.15.04 - From: Liz Clibourne
Subj: All I Want For Christmas Is Typhoid
Date: 1/15/2004 9:49:30 AM Pacific Standard Time
To: Everyone
Hello all, this is one of those generic emails so am apologizing to all of you
who have to hear old news, will get the old stuff over with quick. Christmas was fine,
except I had typhoid so couldn't eat much, and felt nauseated afterwards anyway. Really
hated Ghana while I was sick, this is noplace to be ill, but now that I'm ok I'm happy here again.
Back to work and having fun. My day, get up at about 500am but not out of bed. If you go into the main house youve committed yourself, and may not even get to brush your teeth. So I wait till after breakfast. I go out into my clinic and the little ones troop in, some for bandaids, some just to say hi, but unanimously looking for a cookie or a banana. I keep loads of them around. Then I give my meds, and help out with the babies.
Kids filter in all day with malaria and what have you. I have some regular hanger outers, Simon, he's about 5, likes to come in and do actually nothing, but hes cute. Cece is 8, my assistant. Has a real taste for gore, and wants to be a nurse. She does some of my booboo care, she's watched me enough. The other kids don't seem to mind.We have some real sick kids, some with HIV, some we don't know what.
So I've been busy schlepping them around trying to find out. One kid just came to us, very sick, went to the hospital, but is back now. I'm sure he's got some neuro deficits, and positive he's blind. He's 7 mos old. We figure he had cerebral malaria. If untrearted for too long, horrible side effects. That's what happened to Christopher, that kid who eats with his feet. He was in Liberia with his grandma, hiding in the bush. There's a lot of fighting down there. Never got treated, so now can't talk or use his hands. But I digress.
Anyway then there's afternoon meds and whatever else comes along. I help feed lunch and dinner then do my evening booboo run and last meds. Then I shower, or bucket, if the water pump isnt working. Lately that's been a lot, so sometimes I go to Louises house to bathe. I don't mind roughing it, but when you live with 108 kids and no running water youd have to be an idiot to pass up a hot shower in favor of a bucket in a communal bathroom that hasn't been flushed in 24 hrs. So I'm a sissy, I admit it. Then I go back and see who's hanging out.
I have a cd player and the kids come in to dance at night. They love all the music, especially the oldies. Which leads me to a custom peculiar to Ghana. Here the boys and men don't often dance with women. "Then whom?", you ask. With each other. I went to a concert with some friends and most of the men were dancing with each other. The women dance with each other as well.
To further complicate things, men and women rarely display affection for each other. However the men do. The can't keep their hands off each other. They hold hands in public, caress each other's faces. At the concert there were two men walking with their arms around each other's waists, one with his hand on the others butt. Go figure. Even at the orphanage, the boys do that. Kind of sweet.
Sometimes I have a sicklett or two staying the night in the clinic, and that's my day. Of course lots of other stuff happens but that's my basic framework. Think I've told you about Abigail, the witch. She's starting to manifest some behaviors that are not good, to say the least. She's telling the little kids that she's making them sick. I came home yesterday and one of my malaria kids told me Abigail had told him she'd given him the malaria. I got out my book and showed him how he got it, then found Abigail and told her she'd better cut it out or I'd deal with her. She told us, and others, that she's been sent here to eat two children, so now the kids are scared. Simon slept in my room last night. He's the one she's trying to recruit. This stuff is very real here. We have covens and everything.
Terrible things happen to kids here. We have kids who have eaten human flesh and drunk human blood. Anyway it doesn't scare me. It has no power over me, but it sure gives the kids the creeps. I'm really hooked on these kids. I don't know when or if I can bring myself to leave. But I imagine I'll be here longer than my year.
I always had so much in the states and I never really wanted it. Here I have a room off the kitchen, sporadic water and electric, and really really bad food. I'm very content. Sharon, thanks so much for the check, the po box is reliable. Moses is well on his way to the required number of cows.
Thanks again. Jackie, if you arent listening to all the cds, or don't like them, send some to me ok? Not all, it's expensive to send stuff, just a few . Thanks. And if you could send some mochi crunch with them Id love it. Someone had some OREOS the other day and gave me two. All our cookies here taste like insecticide. I was in Oreo heaven. Cheryl, I think I've finally got your correct address. Write and tell me if I got through. That Japanese girl who was receiving your email was getting frustrated. Kept telling me to stop writing her. Didn't even say if she liked the news or anything. Some people.
To my kids, I love you. To Debra, the pictures of the girls didnt make it to me, just a
blank screen, please try again. To everyone else, write to me. I love to hear whats going on
over there. Will write again next week, and tell you what's happening with Abigail. She's going
to die if she can't get this demon out of her. She looks like hell. A big burden for a kid
that age.
Hasta pronto, Liz/Mom
2.8.04
Subject: Bits & Pieces Part I
Date: 2/8/2004 10:36:03 AM Pacific Standard Time
To: Everyone
Here comes another generic email like tttse Christmas letters we all get. Been busy.
Put a girl in the hospital the other night. Think it's cardiac. Hope not.
Went to a village about an hour away today. Set a table up under a tree and saw villagers. This is fun nursing. A couple kids with schistosomiasis. That's what you get for peeing in the river. So did you know that in Africa Fifi is a mans name? You bet, but remember that the men here also hold hands.
Things are so different here, but I'm getting used to it. Maybe too much. There was a woman at the hospital who was wearing a red, orange and black skirt with a black and white polkadot blouse. And God help me, it made sense. It looked good. I want one. Maybe I'll get dreadlocks. The kids wear weird clothes as well, but it's not their fault. They just wear what people send. It's hard to imagine who would send a red sequined mini-dress to an orphanage, but Asha wore it to church. Looked good in it. I want one!
Our manager, Peter, can't tell boys shoes from girls. I tried to tell him that anything with a pink princess or a purple pony on it is for a girl. Thought I got through to him but John Sackey runs around in lavender plastic sandals all the time. Must have gotten them from Peter. I'd say something to the kid, but then I'd have to talk to the boy with the purple and pink flowered stretch pants. I am in a strange, strange place. They eat bones here, chicken, fish, whatever the meat is attached to.
You should see these little kids cracking these bones, and I mean the entire bone. This country is protein poor, so I guess you get it where you can. It must work cause the people here have teeth like rocks. Since there's no dentist here, just as well. I saw a poster here the other day, two people sitting on the edge of the bed, holding hands and looking adoringly into each others eyes. The caption read Inform your partner if you have an STD and seek medical attention. I guess they took the picture just before he or she informed their partner. The nurses here get to sleep on shift.
When I took that little girl to the hospital it was around 10 pm. The nurses gave their late meds and then wrapped up their hair, laid some chairs end to end and went to sleep till 0400. Sally was having some trouble so I stayed up and watched her. I wish I'd have brought my camera. The moms sleep on the floor, or in chairs, that is, if the nurses aren't using them. The bathroom was the pits.
When we got there there was a woman asleep near the bed my kid needed. The nurse kicked
her in the foot and told her to move. I love this place. I'm constantly amused at how things
are run. There's no doctor at all on holidays. Have to go, haven't eaten since morning. Have
some papaya in my purse. I want to get home before it's mush.
Love Liz/Mom
03.20.04
Subject: Sometimes a tie is good
Date: 3/20/2004 10:27:52 AM Pacific Standard Time
To: Everyone
Ete sen. Quite a week. Got a great donation from Mary Beth, thanks MB. Decided to buy the
soccer team shoes, so we piled into a trotro and drove an hour into Kumasi. For those of you
who've never shopped for shoes with 22 kids, do it voyeuristically through me. Actually, it
was an adventure. So we're in this van made for 12 and we've got about 30 people, with kids and
volunteers. You could say it was sweaty. you really could. We get to Kumasi to the sport store,
nothing like a sport store in the USA. Half the kids pile into the store and they dump a huge
pile of used shoes on the floor.
The only difference between this and the post Thanksgiving Day sale at Bloomingdale is I couldn't understand a word they said and Americans are fatter. The big boys couldn't find any so they went down the street. They came back later to lead us to the shoe store, and remember the term shoe store is being used only in the loosest sense. So we're there and it's getting dark and there's no lights cause the shoe store is in actuality an outdoor shed. So I'm checking out shoes and putting the kids off to the side so as to avoid confusion and there's this kid with a pair of shoes who I just can't place, but remember it's dark. So I look at this urchin and he holds out the shoes and I ask him "Who are you?"
Well it turns out he's a kid from the neighborhood who just happened to be around when we left who stowed away for the ride and hey what the heck maybe this dumb obruni will buy me some shoes. So he didnt get the shoes, lucky he got a ride back to Obuasi. Just goes to show you hope springs eternal. But we're having tryouts soon and if he makes the under 12 team he'll get the shoes.
And then we had a game today and we're ahead and I want all the kids to play but Peter wants to win. So do I, but I'm a woman coach who calls the players honey and I want all the kids to play. So the other team evens the score and then Peter really wants to keep the little kids out. But I'm the head coach so I pull Christopher over. Remember Christopher, the Liberian refugee who can't use his hands and can barely talk as a result of cerebral malaria. Well Peter tells me Christopher is too small and can't use his hands to balance and might get hurt. I asked the kid if he minded getting hurt and he mumbled what passes for no, so I threw him in. This is where it gets good, soccer fans. We're neck and neck and he's on defense and the other guys are coming up to our goal. They kicked this beautiful shot going straight in and here comes Christopher out of nowhere running like a chicken, otherwise he has no balance and boots that ball right out.
It was wild, kids cheering and cartwheeling. You should have seen Christopher's face. So he got to be the hero, and it was a good day. Even Peter had to admit it was worth the tie. I think he was even sincere, but who cares either way the kid got to save the day. Everybody needs to save the day at least once. Had a lot more to say but need to get back.
We're having a party tonight and it's gonna storm. We're gonna have thunder and lightning
and I'm wearing red so gotta go. We're gonna put my CD player in the dining hall if the
electric holds out, but remember they turn off the electric city wide so that idiot who
doesn't have sense enough to come in out of the rain won't step on a live wire. Wish he'd
just step on it and get it over with so we can have music tonight. In retrospect, I guess
that sounds a little callous.
I love you all Liz
03.01.04
Subject: New words for the orphans
Date: 3/1/2004 6:35:50 AM Pacific Standard Time
To: Everyone
So one of the volunteers and I decided to take a taxi into Kumasi. I take two kids a month
into the big city just for the excursion, this time we took Clement and Isaac. Both 15 years old, and
great kids. We got a cab for the bargain price of 100,000 cedis. That's about 12 dollars
American for a one hour drive. Pretty good, except who knew that the cheaper the cab, the less
likely you are to get there unmaimed. So heres the story.
He drove like a maniac, the usual Ghana driver, in and out of traffic. Makes Tijuana look like a bunch of old ladies. It took an extra 30 minutes to find our destination because God forbid he should ask directions or admit he's lost. So he pulls into this decrepit bus station and we are immediately surrounded by an army of thieves, all dirty and ragged. They're trying to open out car doors, and reaching into the cars. They were even grabbing the steering wheel. The driver pretty much just sat there, I was kind of enjoying it, in a perverse sort of way. You don't get many chances here to really let loose, so I did. I cussed these guys out. It was impressive.
The kids here are very religious, and they pray for me all the time. I think I just made it to the top of their list. So, anyway, these guys are opening the car doors and we're slamming them shut. I was hoping someone's fingers would be in the doorjamb but no such luck. Told the driver to get the ---- out of there. He backs up but there's this guy behind the car opening up the trunk. The driver tells me he can't back up because someone's behind the car. I told him if he didn't back up now, he wasn't getting one red cedi.
So he put that thing in reverse and off we went. The rest of the day was uneventful except we found a place to get fried chicken and pizza. It took two cabs because of course no one knows where they are or where they're going.
It's rainy season now, and we don't get rain without thunder and lightning. Anyway I'm out with the guys in the field because I'm also the soccer coach, and the lightning starts. I yelled to go inside and Joanna tells me not to worry because lightning never strikes unless you're wearing red. I guess this is the Ghana version of getting charged by a bull. Deliver me, Lord. We go inside, despite the fact that no one is wearing red, and the lights go out. I asked Peter why the lights ALWAYS go out in a storm. He says that the government wants them off in a storm so that if a line goes down, no one steps on it. I'm wondering why we even care about some idiot who hasn't got enough sense to come in out of the storm.
This place mystifies me, and I think I'm getting a flat spot on my forehead from banging my head against a wall. Went to see my friend Allswell. She's a nurse midwife who has a clinic in Gausu. I've told you about her. Sometimes I need to see her just to spend some time with someone who routinely makes sense. She had a pregnant lady in her office, so she taught me how to do gestational age and check for position. Also felt for fetal heart tones with the old fashioned trumpet.
So if any of you RNs have access to a used Doppler, please send if you can. Thanks. Also did a
talk on cancer of the cervix, uterus and breast at the church. Good fun. About 50 ladies
showed up and we had a translator. I really like this. That's about it for now. Gotta go give
meds and coach soccer. All is well. The boys promised to never repeat what they heard in
the cab. I am well and healthy. Almost finished my memory chip.
I love you all. Liz/Mom
03.29.04
Subject: Praise Jesus
Date: 3/29/2004 5:29:13 AM Pacific Standard Time
To: Everyone
Well you probably thought, or hoped, that I'd never get around to this topic. It's one
discussed rarely in America, frequently in whispers. In fact many of us take great pains to
hide the evidence, covering it up in cleverly knitted cozies.
But as nothing is sacred, or undiscussed, in Ghana, todays topic is our bowels. When I arrived here, I spent alot of time wondering how the locals keep from becoming constipated. When your entire meal consists of a ball of starch the size of a small child, it's hard to imagine not being bound up. Especially since no one here eats, or knows of, a vegetable. Now I know, intimately, that the cure for profound constipation is a bimonthly bout of projectile diarrhea. Yes, my first world friends, Ive had giardia lamblia twice now. The first attack was interesting because it was new to me, and it's all just info for my emails. Remember our communal bathroom is through the kitchen and in the backyard, a distance of about 100 yards.
After the third trip, I wised up and brought a book. You'll be proud to know, or maybe not, that I finished a good portion of James Michener's Hawaii in the third stall of Adullam Orphanage. The second attack came two weeks later, at Louises house. I went over to attend to a volunteer who was tres sick with malaria and needed an IV. As I'm inserting the needle I feel the now familiar rumbling in my gut, not to be confused with hunger pains. I tape up her arm amd run for my life. Sad to report that as Louise has four toilets in her house and I visited all four that day, I was always just a little late. This is when you know who your friends are.
I had to walk around in a sheet till someone came with some clothes, not a good look on me. And Shayda mopped the floors. What a woman. But in all fairness, I'd just spent some time inserting rectal meds into her best friend. What goes around comes around. I am now well, thanks for asking. Louise says there's always a reason to praise Jesus. So when the kids are driving me nuts and it's hot as the seven fires of Hell, I can look up and say 'Praise Jesus! I don't have diarrhea'.
Remember Nat, the former ear puller? He had a huge boil on his butt. He's been an absolute headache of a child, through no fault of his own, for three days now. But, and again I can honestly say 'Praise Jesus'. It erupted yesterday. Good for Nat. It's amazing how popping a boil on your butt can improve your outlook on life. He's happy now, tooling around with a big smile on his face. Sarah has a second degree burn on her chest. One morning during breakfast, some porridge made contact accidentally with her upper torso. Looks good so far. Lots of silvadene cream and tylenol. She doesn't like tape so we acewrapped the dressing. Not many 6-year olds can carry off the off-the-shoulder look the way she can. Burned, but still stylish.
Got two kids with measles today. Didn't recognize it. We're all immunized in America for the most part. One of the mommies comes up to me with this kid and says "Missus, missus," which I discovered is heavily accented American for measles. So now I've got two kids quaranteened in an orphanage with 112 kids (we got some new ones). This should be very interesting. More on that later. I've been here 4 months now, long enough to figure out some of the reasons a third world country is a third world country. The first being education, or the lack thereof.
The school system here is so sad. It's ineffective and costly. If you can't afford school fees you just don't go. The best you can hope for is to sell junk off a huge basket on your head in the market. And if you can get through primary school, most don't pass the exit exam, so again, it's a basket on your head, or maybe you can drive a trotro. Have to admit the basket has its advantages. The people here have great posture. Something else we lack here is access, and I mean access to almost anything. Everything here is so time consuming, almost like reading my emails. Most things here begin and end with a huge discussion, plus a discussion in the middle to review the stuff in the first discussion. Very frustrating.
Most places, even offices and businesses, don't have phones, so you may travel an hour to do something and find the person you need is traveling, or sick. Probably diarrhea. And then, there's no one who can fill in for that person, as everyone here knows only his own job and that's it. The thing in Ghana is to find a job. After that, you don't have to do much. I've seen more people asleep on the job here than anywhere. The night nurses wrap their hair, make a bed, set the alarm clock and sleep from 2300-0400. Nice work if you can get it.
Have to go. Meds to give. Sorry for the extreme fecal nature of this letter, but I can
only talk about what's going on here. Sadly, this is what's going on. I love you all and
don't forget to 'Praise Jesus you don't have giardia'.
Love Liz
05.06.04
Subject: Leaving in disgrace, Part 1
Date: 5/6/2004 4:35:06 AM Pacific Daylight Time
To: Everyone
Hi all. Well, I have run afoul of the Ghana Immigration Department and have untiltil June 22 to leave
the country. Could have had an indefinite extension I believe, but I was unwilling to spend the
weekend with the short, bald commander of the department. Oh well. I waited too long to ask for my
extension, so there you go. Not to worry. I will come home and make some bucks. Then I'll be off
again. Lots of places yet to go.
Debra, can you find out how I get my Oregon license renewed, and can I do it on email.
Terri, can you ask Carol if I can have my old job back? Think I'll settle in Portland
for a while, closer to all my kids.Yep, Mole, I'm coming back. Debra, never got your
package yet, but there's still time, very slow mail here. Janet, didn't get yours yet
either. Zoie, got yours yesterday, thanks so much.
Will write soon, see ya. Liz
