Day 2

I think its fair to say nobody slept well that first night. Possibly as the last thing George told us was that today we would all be taken to the hospital and that we must not cry when we saw how bad the patients wounds were! GULP. I think he meant actual sick people. I kept repeating that I'm not a med student and the girls came to work in the local orphanage. I'm here to volunteer in the research unit of the Korle Bu Hospital- Ghana's leading teaching hospital and HIV/AIDS research unit and to educate and mentor the teenagers they have staying there who are living with the disease.

I was given a reprieve as my suitcase had arrived and I was told it was at the airport awaiting collection. So off we went to the airport by TroTro. I waited at the desk, clutching my claim form naively believing it would be waiting. You'd think I'd never been to Africa! Nobody knew where it was so I was left to roam the airport until I found it abandoned in a corner. At least I could wash and have clean clothes.

Nothing much else to report. We got into a really interesting discussion with George about the differences in each of our cultures. I was startled when he brought up the subject of female circumcision and how he believed it was wrong and it is now illegal in Ghana- though it still happens 'in the north'. It appears there is always a north/south divide. Anything less than good for Ghana seems to happen only 'in the north'. I wish I had time to travel to find out if those in Tamale believe 'the south' to be the root of all ills.

I tried to broach the subject of HIV/AIDS in Ghana and the conversation came to an abrupt end.

Again we were promised (threatened?) that 'tomorrow' we would all go to the hospital where we 'must not cry'.

Day 3

We woke up and after drawing the water from the well to bathe, were given breakfast and headed off very nervously to the hospital. Of course, this is Africa so we had to spend several hours driving around to different buildings waiting to speak to people. Just before lunchtime we arrived at a run down building and I asked where we were. 'This is the hospital' George announced. AAAARGH, was my first reaction. I pointed out quite calmly that this was not the Korle Bu and George looked dumbfounded. He had no idea I was due to work at the Korle Bu and they live about a 5/6 hour round trip from there. I'm due to work from 8-3. 

George rang the project cordinator here in Ghana; the now mythical Franklin. There was much shouting (not at me this time) followed by much confusion and George announcing that Franklin had just told him the Korle Bu no longer accept volunteers!!

Colour me furious. So I have at this point, paid close to $1000 to stay in a house, with no running water, sharing a room and I'm 3 hours from the city. I decided the best thing to do was head home and find an internet cafe and email the organisation in America. Five hours and one email later, I returned to the house trying not to explode with frustration. The first time I've come to Africa under the 'care' of somebody else and it's all gone pear shaped...to say the least. And I'm broke. 

Franklin phoned later that afternoon, pleading for patience and promised me everything was under control and I would be at the Korle Bu by Thursday. For sure. I emailed America to update them and to ask why they were unaware of the situation and requested they find me alternative accommodation. While the host family, and my new daughters are lovely, it is still to far from the hospital. AAAARRRGHH. 

The girls arrived back and reported that they had made it to the orphanage and escaped the hospital. We settled to watch our new favourite soap opera-Alma and awaited dinner.

I have never been so pleased to be vegetarian or felt so guilty at the same time. I was given a plate full of raw cabbage and onion while the girls were presented with fufu and cow leg; a huge hulk of fatty gristle. I though Emma was going to cry and was torn between rescuing her and risking offending the family.

Day 4

Time to do something useful ahead of finally starting work tomorrow- having lost almost a week. I wondered into the village and checked my mail again. An email from America saying 'We are pleased to hear Franklin has sorted everything out for you and we wish you luck'. What the **** is this man telling people? I've heard nothing and still don't know what I'm doing here.

I left the cafe and was greeted by a voice in the dark  calling out "come and speak to me, I want to be your friend". This is how I met my new friend Elizabeth who told me were going to be sisters and we must drink soda. She gathered up some friends and we walked the long way around town so she could show me off. Not sure how I feel about being a trophy friend but I came for adventure and its time I took control of this trip and had some fun. Within an hour we were sitting in a local bar drinking fantas and several men appeared to propose to me. Imayo with his western dress and very flash car insisted he was going to take us somewhere and then I would agree to be his wife.

You'd have to be some kind of stupid to get into a car with 3 very large men you've known for ten minutes and one young african girl and go off wouldn't you? Call me stupid. We spent the afternoon driving around playing music so loud I wanted to cry and 'making joke'. They told me the singer Akon had died!! Still yet to verify this...anyone?

I arrived back at the house about 6 hours after I went to buy bread and I was told off my my host mother! I promised to be a good girl and not run off with strange boys any more.

Day 5

No great surprise- I have heard nothing from Franklin and no emails from America. I'm lucky enough that thanks to friends at uni, I have contacts here. I called a guy called Kwayie who said he knows some NGOs and has friends who may be able to find me somewhere to stay. I emailed Eunicea who by chance worked at the Korle Bu and asked for help. This evening, Eunicea rang me and gave me the number for the director of the Korle Bu and said she had spoken to Sister Beku who was expecting my call and would help me!!

Now I just needed to find somewhere cheap to stay. I googled the beach I stayed at many years ago to find it's now  luxury resort at $100 a night. OOPS. Several hours of trawling the internet and I found a place to stay- 5 minutes from the center of Accra, overlooking the beach, with a vegetarian restaurant run by an english guy who'll give me a good price. Things are looking up people.

So this is my home for the next few days or weeks!! The girl done good and I'm off tomorrow.

Day 6

Not surprised that I've heard nothing. I'm officially on my own now and feel so relieved. I may suck at a lot of things but finding my way around Africa has never been one of them. There are any reasons why I want to stay.

Woke up this morning all set to head off to find one of my girls is sick. I feel strangely maternal. I've known this girls 5 days but they are alone and naive and one of them is ill. I tell myself, she'll be fine, it's not my responsibilty and start packing. I can't leave until she is up, walking and looking less grey but when she hugs me goodbye and walks to the main road with me, I am relieved she is better and genuinely touched at her making this effort for me.

I equip them with my number, email, new address and directions before I go.

I'm bundled onto crowded Tro with my suitcase on my lap and somebody helpfully stuffs my large bag onto the small space between my head and the Tro roof. To the beach!!

Somehow, the Tro only takes 90 minutes to reach Accra and before I know it I'm cocooned in the Phoenix and shown to my room overlooking the sea. Its's really rough and looks more like the Themes than the picture above but who's complaining?

Sister Beko calls an hour later and worryingly but not too surprisingly tells me she knows nobody called Franklin and knew nothing about me until Eunicea called her. She has invited me to go and see her Monday morning. Fingers crossed.

I order dinner and within minutes a smartly dressed lady introduces herself as Hawa and asks why I am here. I recap my tale of adventure and woe and she tells me she she has an NGO in Tamale which she has been running for 8 years and asks for my help. Within minutes I am seated at her laptop with a stack of aid proposals to work through to check her spelling and grammar. Her organisation is the Northern Friends Foundation and helps girls from the North migrating to the south (Accra) where they end up often selling sex to survive. In 8 years, close to 30 girls have graduated under her tutelage and are now running their own small businesses. Having seen her proposals and pictures of the girls, it looks like a great project. She has already asked me to return next year and work with her if she is successful in obtaining funding.

Day 7

Is yet to be written...there is more but now I have work to do