Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Uchabobpi

Oh Indy….Next to James Bond, you are my favorite. The boys and I loved the Indiana Jones movies and would watch them Friday night and get up Saturday and watch them again, Gary and Gail willing. They were good- like bring the box of cereal and the gallon of milk into the living room so we don’t have to move good. I was charmed by his good looks, leather jacket and fedora. I was a budding closet history buff back then and I partially blame my not-so closest fascination with history and adventure on Mr. Jones, Dr. Jones I should say. He did have a Ph D after all.
But my connection to Indiana was very personal as I felt he was the only other person that really understood a very sacred part of me…. My fear of snakes.
I seriously considered getting a whip before coming to Ghana. My goal coming here was to make it back home without seeing one of those wretched things.  
All was well until this evening, the evening of my two month mark in Ghana.
Patience, Precious’s beautiful mother, had invited me, my recovering counterpart, and Joe for dinner. Kristi ,though much improved, has extremely sensitive gag reflexes now, so even though she wanted to come, trying new Ghanaian food was not in her best interest. Patience was making banku, which is basically fermented corn pounded to the consistency of sticky cream of wheat rolled into a ball. As with most dishes here, it is served with a variety of soups. Some people like it but just as many don’t, so I really wasn’t sure what I was headed into, but I knew it was going to be a good time. Joe and I had understood that we were to meet her at her house as she was coming from the hospital. We arrived in a small compound with more than the usual amount of chickens and goats. I was quite preoccupied with this sight walking in the gate. I stood there looking around, noticing the house, the baby clothes out on the line, the palm tree in the yard. I like these little houses. I was deep in observation when Joe grabbed my hand, tightly.
“Are you going to be ok?”
“Uh yeah. Why?”
“Because of what I am about to show you.”
With a smile, looks down at the ground below us. Still smiling, my eyes follow his gaze.
You have GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.
I jumped back with a silent scream, which Joe had anticipated, and ran over to the other side of the small courtyard.
It was dead. Someone had chopped the head off already, but why it was still in the middle of the courtyard next to the gate is beyond me. Though it was dead and it still terrified me, proving that my heart will actually stop if I see a live one. Joe and I are good enough friends now where this has come up in conversation and he is well aware of my phobia. Sitting here writing this, I am laughing at Joe- did he really need to clue me in that way? And I am laughing at myself because I am a ridiculous person.
It was but two minutes later when Joe’s phone rang. It was Patience asking where we were. Apparently, we were supposed to come to her father’s house instead of her house, so off we went. We were only there for enough time for me to jump out of my skin at a dead snake.
We walked for a while to get to our real, final destination. Our evening walk was supplemented by conversation just as good as the peaceful evening in Saboba. I have not said much about Joe previously, other than that could he could land himself on the cover of GQ, but you must know that behind his handsome face is one of the softest hearts I know. He lost his father when he was 12 and he feels the pain of his death every day, yet has somehow developed into the unbelievably loving and open person. His loss is what propels him to love people the way he does. He is almost too soft though, for his own good. I try and give him lessons on how to put your foot down, but it’s no use. That’s just Joe. I feel so blessed I have a friend like him here and will miss him terribly when he leaves again for school next Monday.
The sight of Patience snapped us out of our conversation. I noticed she was standing in front of one of my favorite places to go in Saboba. I don’t even know what it’s called. I just refer to it as the pink drinking spot by the big field. There is nothing really special about it. It’s a place to sit, drink something cold and relax. I was confused as to why we were going here, and found out this establishment is owned by Patience father so that is where we were going to have our meal.
I could not have been happier. It was a beautiful evening. I was with good friends, Precious who gets cuter every day, and very much in the moment. Nights like these are why I love Saboba so much.
I had already sent a formal apology to my digestive system before I left the house, hoping that we would stay on good terms with a little sweet talking. I said if all constituents would cooperate, I would be much obliged. I know how deeply all of us here have been missing vegetables, but I would reward them in a month with as much roughage as they want.  
The banku was sour, as I was warned (hence the formal apology), but when dipped in the soup, it wasn’t bad. I really like this soup, but I wasn’t crazy about the banku. This is also one of the traditional dishes you just swallow without chewing... or tasting. This technique has worked well in my favor. I really have enjoyed the food here, minus the rat soup incident. It is very flavorful, hot with peppers and I like it. Patience had made the soup from ground nuts, but the peanut taste was disguised by the pepper. She had served me two unidentifiable parts of a chicken in the soup, and I was grateful for the darkness. If it tastes good and I can’t see it, I am fine. One thing I really appreciated was that she brought me a spoon, and my gratitude made us both laugh. I really love eating with my hands now for the same reasons little kids do, but when it comes to soup, I will gladly take a spoon.
Joe brought up eating bones again. Laughing, he suggested I should try these ones as they were so soft. I picked one up and held it in his face. “This, Joseph, is not soft” as I clank it on the side of the metal bowl. They are crazy.
It was such a wonderful evening out though I was bummed Kristi could not come. Our goal tomorrow is to walk outside, maybe even to the hospital. It is so comical here because no one can understand why she isn’t better. Jonah came into our room this morning and told her, in all seriousness, that she should really get up and feel better today. Right, because she hasn’t been trying the last five days?! It was hilarious. They do not understand why it is taking her so long to recover, and I find it is easiest to tell them that our bodies are not strong like theirs and it’s just going to take a while.
This morning was a good day back in the lab. I saw the most peculiar, rather disturbing thing however. There was a cute little girl brought into the lab by her dad to get her blood drawn. I have mentioned before that kids here do not whine like they do in the U.S. and have about ten times the pain tolerance. When this little girl let out the most awful, blood-curdling scream, I jumped out of my skin. She was writhing around for all she was worth trying to break free. She screamed and screamed and after a few minutes, I noticed blood coming from her mouth. I was already a bit upset she her struggle, but this was really concerning to me. I ran to my bag and pulled off a few pieces of my ever-present toilet paper and ran over to clean her chin off. When I stooped down, I noticed nearly her whole upper lip was black, like necrotic black, with an opening where all the blood was coming from.
She did not fall or hit her lip on anything. Apparently, she was given a polio vaccination just over a week ago and that’s when her lip started to go black. Three other kids in her class all vaccinated the same day have the same thing. I was baffled. I have never seen something like this. It was so swollen and she can’t even laugh, or scream, without it opening up and bleeding. I got a picture so I could talk to Dr. Jean about it. She thinks it could be a possibly allergic reaction and I don’t remember the name of the condition she said it was. Sweet, Nikki.
Anyway, I know where her father works, so I am going to take him some Vaseline tomorrow, recommended by Dr. Jean and as well as an antibiotic.
There was much I forgot to say about last night as I was being attacked by bugs. I went out to get Kristi some Spirit for her tummy and stopped to see Jonah and Aggie on the way. He insisted that he walk with me even though I insisted that he stay home with this family and eat. He said that he likes to walk so he can stay fit for Aggie. Oh my gosh I laughed so hard at this. Men do not talk this way about their wives here, and I find it so refreshing that Jonah is open about how much he loves his wife.
It was Market Eve, so the town was buzzing. All the vendors from the surrounding areas come in the night before so the place is happenin’. Music playing, laughter and chatter, people drinking too much pito (aka beer). There were so many people out, so consequently there were lots of people out that I knew. I really love when this happens. I was going to swing by Pastor Jidoh’s to see him and Joe. He wanted an update on Kristi (everyone does- it’s great). I told Jonah of my plans, thinking he would come with me, but said, “I will go home. You are Saboba lady (uchabobpi) now. You know the way.” This was quite the compliment coming from Jonah who never lets me walk home by myself. “Upi” means lady or woman and “chabob” is Saboba. I felt accomplished and walked with a smile all the way home.
I think Uchabobpi needs a whip to fight snakes.
In other news, the hospital has no water now. Dr. Jean put up signs on the 13th of March banning all employees from collecting water from the hospital. They are doing this because there is virtually no clean water here, but they do not think in a cause and effect fashion. Like for instance, if I take this water now, even though I am not suppose to, there will be no water later… You can’t have a hospital without running water.
Ugh. So it continues.
Well folks, I am going call it a day, a very good day, and go to bed. I hope you can call your day like this too when it comes time to end it, and I also hope you too will have the Indiana Jones theme song stuck in your head to count sheep to.

To the mischievous men in my family, I realize you go to great lengths to scare people once their weaknesses are exposed, but I am not to be tampered with. I have already told my father and brothers, if this is used against me, all trust will be lost and I may never forgive you.

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