Nathan & Megan’s Blog

Just an ordinary day

I felt like Nathan and I should post something, but I’m not sure that we’ve got a ton to report! 

 We’ve settled into an easy routine here.  At first I thought it was sort of strange that no one here seemed to care that their feet were so dirty, but now I’ve stopped caring, too.  The majority of the roads in Northeastern Ghana and all the roads around the hospital compound are red dirt roads.  You get used to having red powder on your shoes and between your toes.  Everyone leaves their shoes at the front door, because otherwise you’d have to sweep the houses constantly.   I’m also getting used to having gnats in my drink.  I still pick most of them out, but I’m starting to care less and less every day.

I made another attempt at befriending the monkey in the back of House 6 the other day.  (She has a reputation for hating women.)  She was tolerating me pretty well, so I got brave enough to actual walk within range of her rope to get her empty water dish to refill.  Everything went fine until I carried her water dish back into range.  As soon as I bent over to put her water dish down she ran up behind me and jumped on my butt.  I don’t know if she meant any harm by it–she didn’t bite or scratch me.  More than anything it seemed like something our cat Jackson would do and made me laugh.

 I’ve learned a few phrases in Mampruli, the local dialect.  I can say good morning, yes, no, good afternoon, is she having diarrhea, do you have abdominal pain, and go to the pharmacy.  Obviously that’s not quite enough for a really good, deep conversation, but it’s a start.  For the most part the people seem so surprised I’m trying to speak Mampruli they just giggle.  When in doubt here, it seems like if you just say, “Naah,” in a sweet tone of voice, that seems to get you through.   One woman said something to me in Mampruli that was absolutely foreign to me today.  I shrugged my shoulders, grinned really wide, and said, “Naah…. That’s all I got.”  She laughed at me and we both went on our way.

 It’s funny to see how language doesn’t always matter here, though.  I feel like at least some of the patients here see that I really do care about them, even though I can’t say the words myself.  Also, kids are great to interact with.  A lot of the African children are terrified of us because our coloring and speech is so different.  In fact, we went to visit a village and a little boy was staring at me.  Without really thinking about it, I patted him on the head.  He screamed bloody murder!!!  About five women, all laughing because they’d seen what happened and knew I was as embarassed as the kid was scared, came rushing up to comfort him.  Never doing that again…  On the other hand, some of the kids more familiar with the hospital kind of like having us weird white people around.  Nathan and I were walking home from the hospital today when this little boy, probably 5 or 6 years old, came running up between us.  He didn’t really say anything, he just grinned at us.  We said some things in English to him, and he smiled and nodded at us.  He was just content to walk with us.  Then Nathan and I started doing silly duck walks, moonwalks, etc.  That got him giggling.  Language was completely unneccessary in that interaction.

This afternoon was the first time I’ve felt brave enough to actually venture out to run.  I think I was starting to get a little restless, so when it started thundering this afternoon, I decided within about 3 seconds that I was going running.  (The last few days it’s thundered and gotten very dark but not actually rained.  It really cools things down and makes for a beautiful lightning show.)  I changed into the longest pair of shorts I brought with me (knee level) and went for a run.  There’s something wonderful about running down red dirt roads in Africa with waving grass all around you and distant hills on the horizon, especially with the fantastic cloud formations rolling in and heat lightning.  It was also kind of funny having all the people on their bicycles and motos looking at me like I was crazy for actually running.  (Why would anyone waste their energy like that?  Where was I trying to go so quickly?)

Nathan and I have had the pleasure of working with a 79 year old retired pediatrician named Chuck for the last 2 weeks.  He had a wonderful story about being called to the mission field by the Lord during one of the darker hours of his life (after his wife passed away 10 years ago).  He’s been serving in a variety of different mission locations for the past decade.  He was a real delight to work with, always patient, humble, and kind.  Plus he had a sense of humor, which should never be underestimated.  Unfortunately, yesterday was Chuck’s last day.  He left for Accra early this morning and will be flying home to Delaware tomorrow.  Last night the Hewitts (the main missionary family here) hosted a litte going away party for Chuck at their house.  Some of the other volunteers had printed him up a certificate of appreciation, which we all signed.  It was a neat way to honor him for his service and to thank him for all the teaching he’s done for us over the past 2 weeks.  We were very sad to see him go but thankful we had the chance to meet him.  He was truly an inspiration.

 I have plenty of medical stories I could share:  lacerations repaired, a great number of end stage cancers newly diagnosed, the man with the strangest heart condition I’ve ever seen that died yesterday, the malnourished kids we’ve treated, the ultrasounds we’ve done, spleens bigger than livers, and the list goes on.  I won’t go into detail, because that might end up boring even me with the great number of stories.  :)  Suffice it to say that we’re seeing a lot of pathology, doing a lot of procedures, and hopefully helping a lot of people.

We miss everyone back home and appreciate all your prayers!