That Is One Tall Drink of Water

When I came sashaying into this world nearly 24 years ago, I was not a normal baby but a long baby. Kindergarten class photo- tallest one in the back row. Every Christmas program, choir concert and class photo ever since that day have rendered me in the back row next to the boys. Yuck.

I would have given anything to give away some of my inches. Blend in. That’s all I wanted. I lived with the local posture police, my mother, who refused to let me slouch, making that an impossibility. I was out first at every limbo contest at the roller skating rank in Cody. I had to wear stretchy pants because there were no jeans that were long enough, and my grandpa still to this day tells me I am tall enough to hunt geese with a rake.

Whine. Cry. Drama. I tell my mom all the time if my daughter is anything like I was when I was young, I am sending her back.

It has been a growing process to rise above my height (audience laughs), but I did.

Being in Saboba has brought back some of those memories of being that awkward girl only because I am significantly taller than most people here, especially the woman. They carry way too much on their heads that it has literally stunted their growth. People always used to tell my parents they needed to put bricks on my head so I would stop growing. I would politely smile like I was taught and think, “Hey buddy, how ‘bout I hit you with the brick huh?!”  

Eventually I figured it out and learned to be happy in my own skin. I do not think about what I look like in comparison to others like I used to when I was younger and I am very comfortable being me, which is a really great place to be with yourself. This mindset has saved me in Ghana, as I mentioned yesterday, or I would be tempted into an identity crisis! In Ghana, I am legitimately twice the size of most people, which is a little awkward sometimes, especially when little men looking for a fat wife point that out.

There are just so many funny, awkward things that happen here and much of it arises from the way I look.

Today, Trinity and I went to her seamstress since Sarah, God bless her, made the most hideous dresses for me. I wanted a long summer dress made because the ones in the States are often too short. I had drawn one out for Lucy, my new seamstress, and she was taking my measurements while Trinity translated. Bent over, she is held the tape measure at the middle of my shin.

Lower.

She moves it down a couple inches.

Lower still.

She is still above my ankles.

I am talking to Trinity who is talking to Lucy, explaining that I want it as close to the ground as possible.

Lucy says something in Likpaakpaln and all the ladies in her shop burst out laughing along with Trinity.

“She says there is no more.”

I look down to find the end of the tape measure blowing in the breeze. Oh dear. I am longer than the tape measure and they have never seen such a thing on a woman before!

Years ago, I would have burst into tears, but today, I laughed a good laugh.  

Kristi made it to the hospital today. All were rejoicing at her homecoming. She still had a canula in her hand for her typhoid medication that can only be given this way (or as a booty shot) and they all commented on it. This poor girl has been through the ringer but she is doing so well. We even played peanuts/nertz/pounce tonight! Wyoming vs. Texas. So far, Wyoming is in the lead;)

I was so thrilled to find that "Jessie's Girl" was on the radio in the hosptial today and you better believe I sang along. Springsteen in Saboba.. how 'bout that?

Big news: Saboba is changing colors. I noticed a light green tint has carpeted our world here after that last rainstorm. I cannot wait to see this place all green!

AHHH! I am being swarmed again and I cannot stand to be by this computer any longer!

Thank you thank you for your continued support and prayers. That makes me sound like I am at an award show giving an acceptance speech, but I am really serious. It means so much to me and you have no idea, until I get back and tell you in person and show you picture and videos, of what that has enabled me to do. God bless you a million times over today.

Hairball!

Happy Birthday to my host brother Connor!! He is 14 today and I can’t believe it. He is such a great kid and he already tells me about his women problems, so am ok with his aging as long as we can still talk;) All my love to you Con and to Mags, Seamus, Shawn and Dan!

When I graduated from Carroll, I got some of the neatest gifts from friends and family. Keepsakes to mark my career at Carroll and things to help me move forward. One of those was a journal from my dear friend Katie Loveland, who really, I blame entirely for this trip to Ghana. I received other ones at the time, but this one was my favorite. It had character, and she wrote in the cover, “Congratulations Nikki! Here’s to bigger and better adventures, mishaps and other mischief.”

Mmm hmm. That is exactly what I was after. I refused to write in it until I had something worth writing on its pages. Entry number one was written on August 7^th on my 6:00 am flight to Minneapolis and then onto Chicago. I had planned this trip to see my cousins and two of my best friends, thanks to Uncle Buck, about two weeks before I left and got the airport at 5:32 am just in time to walk on to the plane because I could, which has become my mantra for my free bird year. Because I can- a mindset formed in retaliation out of the confines of 5 years of basketball. Immature? Oh yes, but I don’t have to be responsible right now and I just want to soak all that life has to over me right now.

I bring this up because I just wrote on its last page last night and in a haze of nostalgia, I began thumbing through its pages. 8 months ago , Ghana was only a dream, I was freaking out about my applications for school and plotting with my best friend’s soon-to-be fiancé on the logistics of marriage. I was moving all over the place and scheming up crazy trips to keep myself entertained. I said when I was at Carroll that it was the greatest time of my life, and it truly was, but so has the free bird year. I am determined that every phase I am in should be the best.

Though you have no idea how much time has passed since the last paragraph, I can tell you that it has been enough time to launch the bullet sequence. Too many stories! Too tired!

-Jonah just stopped by, which is why I am tired now after our lovely visit. He made me laugh so hard this morning because he did what no man, in any country, should ever do: argue with his wife about the date of their wedding anniversary. Like every other man, he was wrong and had to apologize to Aggie. It was quite humorous.

-Also hilarious was the guinea fowl that ran away from Bob today. It was a gift to us and was in a cage in the backyard awaiting its death, and Bob decided to give it water and it escaped. He chased it all over the place and went all the way out to Miss Ivy’s school, which is about a mile away! Go guinea go! This was quite the sight.

-We had three surgeries today: an exploratory operation to investigate a mass in a woman’s abdomen, a cystocele (the gynecological equivalent of a hernia as Dr. Jean says) and a imperforated hymen, which I will not bother explaining. I have never been more grossed out and fascinated all at the same time as I was today. For real. This is one for the books. I get the willies just thinking about what I saw. The mysterious mass ended up being an ovarian cyst the size of an overweight softball. It was certainly large, but there have been much bigger. This was the first surgery, and I did not think Dr. Jean would take the time to cut it open, so I was going to once surgery was complete. However, she was just as fascinated as I was and did the honors. This is so gross so consider yourself warned… when she punctured it, this mucous colored substance came squirting out. She sliced it in half and found, brace yourselves, TWO giant hairballs!! EW!! It was so disgusting, but so cool at the same time. They are rare, but it is called a teratoma. During differentiation in embryonic development, not all the hair cells migrated to the head region and some stayed in the abdomen. Dr. Jean has seen actual teeth and hairballs in the same teratoma before. Isn’t that crazy?! And yes, you ask like I didn’t, there are pictures and live video footage! I will not put it on facebook because you will gag as I nearly did. SO GROSS!!

-I have been getting these emails from this forum through ISU that the Class of 2013 has to participate in. There are five questions we all have to fill out to introduce ourselves and it gets sent out to everyone. It has been days and I hadn’t bothered to check it until last night…. 90% of them are married and I will be one of the babies in the class!! Ugh. I did share this with my friend Katie I mentioned earlier, and she did remind me that I probably had the same feelings about Carroll being 90% Catholic and look how that turned out! Also, some of my best friends in Helena are married couples and they are super fun. I just have to keep telling myself to have an open-mind here…

-I decided today that if I did not have a healthy, happy view of myself, I may have been launched into an identity crisis. I was told once I looked like a man and now today in the middle of another meaningless proposal, I was told I was “very beautiful and fat.” It takes a few seconds of deep-breathing to suppress the American and not be extremely offended by these statements, but eventually I always end up laughing. It’s funny! I was in surgery today, so I wasn’t in the lab however I poked my head in to see Nelson. We were talking when this little man, even shorter than the short guy with the Valentine’s proposal, starts in on this schpeel in Konkomba I do not understand. Nelson starts laughing and the guy keeps talking and am looking at Nelson with pleading eyes sending “you better explain all this” vibes. He said the man would like very much to marry me because of well, the reasons I just told you, and Nelson told the man not unless he brought him 10 guinea fowl and they both laughed their deep, Ghanaian laugh. Can you believe this? So not only am I fat, but I am only worth 10 guinea fowl. I just shake my head and marvel at the stark differences between the world I came from and the one I am living in now.  

-Kristi is doing awesome. Tomorrow our goal is to walk outside, and I know she can do it. She moved her flight home up about 2 weeks, which I am selfishly really bummed about. She needs to rest at home, and I know I would feel the same if I was her. We will leave for Tamale next Wednesday. She will fly to Accra and I will ride the bus for 12 hours and we will meet back up, stay the night in the guest house I stayed in the first night I was in Accra, and she will fly to Texas the next day and I will go to a town called Kpandu for my grand adventure into the Volta. It will be a good time, but I will be sad she is not there.

-Remember my issues with the lizard in my room? I had a monumental break through last night when I saw Houdini crawling on our window and all around. Because the bugs have been so bad in our room lately, I was so relieved to have him there to eat them. So from now on, there is no scoreboard. Houdini and I are friends.  

Bullet sequence terminated. It is bedtime. I hope you had a great day today sprinkled with humor!

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 13^th 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.

Get In the Wagon, Kids

The boys and I used have this game, purchased at Westside’s Scholastic Book Fair, called Oregon Trail. It was one of the few technological pleasures we were allowed since there was “always something to be done outside” according to our father. I can say this in jest because I really do appreciate that about our dad. It made us into good people.

I don’t really remember how we took turns playing this game. I imagine there was some yelling, punching and bossing around on my part, but we figured it out. We had a whole wagon train of people we were responsible for from Independence Rock, Missouri to Oregon. We had to buy food and supplies, keep our animals healthy, go hunting and above all, keep the morale high. On the bottom of the screen, there was a bar that monitored the morale of the group, and depending on what you did or didn’t do, it would increase or decrease… mostly decrease. Things were rough out on the frontier.

I feel as though I am in that game right now, and the “morale” of the group varies by the day.

Morale: High

That’s what I would give today. Only God knows what tomorrow will bring. I guess it depends on if I can fix the broken axel of if another ox keels over.

We had an rather intense and much needed rainstorm last night. They thunder clapped so loud one time it made my jump. I felt it like was right above me. I am absolutely fascinated by storms. I decided this would be a perfect night to start a murder mystery. I was scared and it was so thrilling. And then the power went out… Oh Ghana.

I went back to the hospital today. Kristi is making improvements and I felt like I could leave her for a few. We were still out of power most of the morning, and without a generator, there isn’t much to be done in a laboratory except chit chat. I can handle that… it boosts the morale. I hadn’t seen my lab friends in a while so it was good to catch up.

All in all, it was a very quiet day at the hospital. Though the conditions here are less than desirable, this patient population is ideal. They have beautiful, toned bodies and they never complain. There are no nasty fat people too big to fit on the bed and no over-bearing Americans who think they are the only people in the hospital worth treating. The power will go out, killing the fans, leaving them in stifling hot air. They push out a baby and walk away with hardly a word. They sleep on the floor, and they are grateful for what you do. It’s really nice, and I am going to enjoy this because unless I leave the U.S. again, I will never experience such an easy-going people group. This is of course overlooking the fact that they have the craziest diseases, abscesses, perforations and defects you have ever seen in your life.

I think the high point of my day is when I finally got Kristi to eat something- a half of a baked potato to be exact. This was a monumental hurdle we climbed. Morale: soaring.

 I am going to cut this short because I am being attacked by a mob of bugs attracted to the light on my computer screen. They are crawling all over me  and it’s disgusting! Morale: annoyed.

I know so many of you have been praying for me and for Kristi’s recovery. I can feel them and I really, really appreciate your support. I could not do this without you.

I hope you all had a blessed Monday and that no matter where you are on your journey out west, you keep your morale high.

Much love to you all!

Red Boots

Though I have yet to define what a “typical” Sunday morning is around here, I can tell you this one is atypical. I have stayed home to take care of my poor friend. I am saddened by the plight of Kristi as this typhoid continues to keep her out of the game. Dr. Jean just put Bob on typhoid treatment this morning as he is also not feeling well. I feel like I am walking on thin, thin ice here. Keep praying for Kristi and that Dr. Jean and I stay healthy.

Yesterday was very uneventful as my post has been next to Kristi’s bedside. I am a professional unhooker and rehooker of IV’s now! I wish there was something more I could do for her. I know I would not want to be alone feeling like this. Everyone wants different things when they are sick, and I like my mom, old movies and popsicles, so I am trying to give her my best in hopes that in some small way, it will help. This is not only physically draining but emotionally as well.

Because of all this down time, I have gotten more sleep than I have in the last two months combined I am pretty sure. I am going to bed at about 9 and not getting up until around 7 because it has been cooler these last few mornings. I have had lots of time to think and to read. There has been so much to process with all that has gone on the last week. I don’t even think I will be able to digest it all until I am home.

I am not going to put on a front. I am freaked out by all this sickness. This typhoid is everywhere, and I don’t like it. This may sound dramatic, but I feel it is only a matter of time before it is my turn.

As of this morning, I had officially come to the end of myself yet again, and I needed to some legitimate TLC. I am simply not strong enough on my own. My personal issues are so insignificant in light of what is going on here, and though I know that, I still feel. I knew I needed to drag myself to church this morning in some form or another to refill. I found a song sung by one of my super talented best friends Carrie Jamison and started crying (a combo of missing her, home, her gorgeous voice, completely overwhelmed and knowing that God is unmistakably by my side). WHY OH WHY are girls so emotional?! It’s ridiculous, and I do my best to keep things under control but sometimes things are too much to keep inside.

So, I will stop with the blubbering.
I am simply moved yet again by God’s timely embraces and great love. This is real and I know it to be true with the deepest part of my being. Yes, this experience is one of my greatest challenges yet, but there is so much beauty in struggle. It is impossible to understand the heart of God or to reach your potential as person without it. So through tears and gritted teeth, I welcome it.

                                  

This is not the song Carrie sang, but this has undoubtedly been the anthem of my trip, which is appropriately named for 3 months spent in the dry season in Northern Ghana. I pray it brings you the strength you need to put your butt-kickin’ boots back on. My pair is red and they are super sassy… just in case you were wondering.

The Desert Song

Brooke Fraser

This is my prayer in the desert

When all that's within me feels dry

This is my prayer in my hunger and need

My God is the God who provides

This is my prayer in the fire

In weakness or trial or pain

There is a faith proved of more worth than gold

So refine me Lord through the flames

Chorus:

And I will bring priase

I will brng praise

No weapon formed against me shall remain

I will rejoice

I will declare

God is my victory and He is here

This is my prayer in the battle

When triumph is still on its way

I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ

So firm on His promise I'll stand

Chorus

All of my life

In every season

You are still God

I have a reason to sing

I have a reason to worship

This is my prayer in the harvest

When favor and providence flow

I know I'm filled to be emptied again

The seed I've recieved I will sow

Decision Made

I had anticipated a rather lively April Fool’s Day, full of all my good jokes, but as it turned out, there was no room for such thing.

It was one of those were the times passes quickly and slowly all at the same time and you feel like that one day spanned across two. Bob and I left by 6 for Tamale so I could get, Lord-willing, an extension on my passport. A seasoned traveler would have not made the mistake I did, but now I know: look at the actual stamp and not your visa for the date of expiry. My visa is good for three months. My stamp from the country of Ghana is good for 60 days. I have to apply for an extension in month increments and pay 40 Ghana cedis  for each month extension. Another rookie mistake: even a month extension would not cover me. I missed it by a day. My month extension is good until the international holiday of my birthday, May 3^rd but I fly out on the 4^th which means, dear friends, that technically, I have to apply and paid for a 2 month extension.

You can imagine my frustration.

I am firm believer in sweet talking my way out of things, like say (hypothetically speaking of course) speeding tickets, but I have no idea what it is like to tangle with government officials in an immigration office in a foreign country. Fortunately, I had stopped by there the last time I was in Tamlale to get the initial application and did some brown-nosing with Bob, which totally paid off. It was a little intimidating because I was legitimately working the system. I asked for 3 additional days in the country just in case my flight out of Accra got delayed in May and still only paid for one month. Thank you Jesus.

Bob had some things to do in Tamale, so I met up with Abraham for breakfast who just happened to be there!  I was so excited for breakfast food, and when an unenthused, headphone wearing punk of a waiter informed me they were no longer serving breakfast at 9:45 in the morning, I nearly went angry, pregnant lady on him. But I refine. International homicide would not look very good on my record.I wanted to leave and get one of my beloved egg sandwiches, but we were stuck in the restaurant by the bonds of good manners. So, I had fried rice and chicken at 10 am yesterday. Yuck. However, I was with a good friend, and I thoroughly enjoyed our time together. I never did get to see Zee though as she had meetings all morning.

I had to get shampoo and toothpaste for Kristi. No problem. I know my way around Tamale. I went to the appropriate store and immediately found the toothpaste and shelves of shampoo. Satisfied with navigating skills, I began scanning the shelf for what I needed. Dark and Sassy Extra Moisture. Dark and Sassy 3 in 1. Dark and Sassy Anti-Dandriff. Umm… slight problem. Though my friend can be sassy, there is nothing dark about her. I went to two different places before I found something for sassy people who are not dark. In the last store I was in, I found cookies. Yes, cookies with M&M-like chocolates in them. This was a monumental find, and now that the whole package is nearly gone, I might be physically able to read that book that begins with Christmas cookies. Again, thank you Jesus.

I think the most pleasantly, surprising thing about yesterday, was the conversation I had with Bob on the way back from Tamale. We do not usually talk like this, but he asked if I had decided I was going to ISU or not. I took me by surprise. No one has asked me yet. Though I have accepted their offer, I have yet to hear from Loma Linda, which is mostly likely means “no”, but either way, I had haven’t given it much thought because of all that has been going on here. ISU was the LAST place I wanted to be. I nearly didn’t apply because the idea of me living in Pocatello was revolting. I wanted to be in Denver close to my brother and lots of good friends. I also just recently found that one of my very best friends will be moving there for school in the fall as well and I had to suppress the pang of disappointment yet again. But Denver is not an option for me, which means I probably won’t marry Tim Tebow or Brady Quinn, and I will save face by never being tempted to be a Bronco fan again. God knows what is best for me far better than I do, so if Denver is not in the cards, Denver is not the right place. It is really pretty simple.

There was one thing Bob said that really struck me. He said though he has never met my family, he can see how close we are, which he reminded me is a gift. Why would I want to go far from them? Point taken, but I have this phobia of ordinary and I felt like ISU was mediocre. And, I was not going to make a decision like this based on my comfort level. Of course it would be easiest if I was closest to my family, but convenience does not mean it is the right thing to do. I am have no fear of going to new places, and I wanted the opportunity to live in a city for my aimless twenty-somethings to get it out of my system so when I am old and married, I will want the small town life I grew up in.

I have no fear of spreading my little wings and flying. I can fly anywhere I darn well please. I have proved that to myself and I needed to that, which is one of the many things I am learning here. I value my relationships more than anything, and it would kill me to miss my brothers’ last two years of college. Idaho just happens to be nestled half way between the two. I don’t know why the implications of that did not sink in before yesterday, but that is where my heart is at. Experiences are what you make them. College basketball and Ghana have taught me that, and ISU, though less glamourous, will be no exception.

So, yes, I have decided as of yesterday, I will be in Pocatello, Idaho for my graduate years, and I feel really good about that. I hated the idea of ISU in the beginning so much that the only “pro” on the pro and con list other than my family was the chances of me marrying a smokin’ hot manly man who knows how to fix things is much more likely to be in Idaho than any other school I applied to. Not that I am looking, but hey, that is a factor to consider.

I won’t miss out on Gavin’s remaining years at the Academy and Galen’s years at my beloved Carroll. In two years, all three of us will split. The boys will be in med school somewhere and I will be looking for a job like a real grown up and we could be in three corners of the country… or the world.

So, there you have it, unless something really crazy happens, I will be attending Idaho State University in the fall, so get your travel plans ready, because every time you go south on I-15, stop by for some Pastor Jidoh inspired hospitality.

I’ll not go into detail for her sake, but my partner Kristi has typhoid, so please keep in her your prayers as she recovers. This is not a fun thing, and I wish there was something more I could do for her.

I am anticipating the power to go out any moment now. It is noon and it is way too long for have power for a Saturday in northern Ghana.

I hope this Saturday brings you joy and I really hope someone made up for me and played a few extra, quality practical jokes yesterday.

A Fresh Breath

Happy Birthday Kelsey!

I surprised one of my best friends In Chicago with a birthday call this morning and she did not recognize my voice even though I told her my name.. twice. She claims it was because it was such an unexpected call, but clearly, this reaction was an early sign of aging;) Love you Helen!

Because of the nature of the things at the hospital lately, I had not the slightest idea of what this day would bring. As Kristi and I approached the hospital, we noticed several children running around outside… were those… no… were those our patients?! Two little girls around the age of 3 came running to us, giggling with ear to ear smiles and IV canulas still in their little hands. Not only were they healthy again, but they had pulled me back to my center: this is why I do what I do here. I breathed a sigh of relief as I followed their cute little butts back into the children’s ward to begin a day I knew was going to be great.

My patient interaction has significantly increased since Kristi’s arrival, and I love it. We function as a team. She is the doctor and I am well, the physician’s assistant haha. I know what is going on with everyone and I really like that. I feel very connected and plugged in. Our patients are doing well, but we get just as many as we sent home the day before. Typhoid and malaria. Typhoid and malaria. It is so predictable. If someone would just fix our water system, we could get rid of this problem!! It is totally preventable and this blasted government will not do a darn thing about it!

We had a little boy today who has meningitis, the first I have observed since I have been here. On top of that, he is hydrocephalus, making it impossible for his 4 year old frame to hold his massive head up right. He just lays there. Perfectly still. All day. Time must pass so slowly for him, and I do not know what we will be able to do for him.

I had another first today: we have an emaciated old man who came in completely dehydrated with a blood pressure of 40/20!! You are wondering how the man was alive, and I will tell you I am still wondering that myself. It has to be something he has been dealing with for a while, otherwise this man would have kicked the bucket today. He is not out of the woods yet, but we are hopeful.

Back to the children’s ward. I mentioned the two little girls who came to great us. One of them was the granddaughter of the Kitiak chief who came over to our house the other evening. This strong, quiet man is revered in this community, well respected as a man and as a leader devoted to his people. I was so happy we were able to care for and help someone so dear to him because he does so many good things for us. She is by far the most happy, active little kid we have had here. She was the life of the party, and I hate to say this, but I am almost sad she’s better because I won’t get to see her tomorrow!

Tomorrow… I will not be at the hospital tomorrow I just remembered.

I am actually going to Tamale to get an extension on my passport. It is the most ridiculous thing as I had taken care of this in the U.S. before I left. As it turns out, regardless of how long I said I was going to be here, if it was longer than 60 days, I have to pay more money and apply for an extension. Real cool, Ghana. But I have the best news, it just so happens Abraham is in Tamale visiting Zee so I will get to see them both again!! I am so very happy about this.  

I got the greatest footage of Saboba for you today. I turned my video on and just started walking from my house all the way through town to see Joe and Pastor Jideoh. Kristi and I ran into some of the funniest things while the camera was rolling. On top of that, I got the best monologue from Pastor Jidoh, so most of you can meet him. He is just hilarious. I am trying to accumulate personal introductions from these people so you can understand why I love them so much.

Speaking of love, Pastor Jidoh knows how much I love these egg sandwiches he served me once and insisted we have some before we left to check on some of our patients this evening. The power went out at his house, so we sat out in the courtyard under a blanket of stars, sipping pineapple tea and eating egg sandwiches laughing and talking. He blesses me so much and I will never be able to repay him for his endless generosity. It is memories like tonight that are going to make me cry when I am gone. I just know it.

Today was truly a great day, and I needed a good one like this.  

Though you do not have round huts and a starry, summery night to sit in, take time for friends and strangers alike and be good to them. The more you give, the more you receive.