In stitches

Well this week I feel like the hospital has become my second home. Monday I decided to visit the hospital as I’ve had an unhappy tummy for a few weeks and the antibiotics I had last month don’t seem to have cleared it up. I got to the hospital for 9am, being a Monday it was extremely busy, standing room only. After joining the huge queue to get my blood pressure and temperature taken, I sat reading my kindle for 2 hours. I eventually got to see a Dr and attempted to explain my symptoms, he didn’t understand when I said that I thought the bug was still in my system from the last time. So I tried to be more technical and say that the bacteria were still there ?

 I was then sent to the lab to have some blood taken and give a sample for analysis. Usual story, struggled to find a vein. Tried my left arm, then my right and eventually my right wrist where they managed a measly 2ml, enough to rule out Malaria. The other sample was more difficult as when you got to go, you got to go, but at that precise moment I didn’t need to go. Long story short, the toilet (yes they have got ONE at the hospital after all) was very clean and sample was given for analysis. Another 2 ½ hour wait and the results concluded that I have parasites in my tummy. Another hour wait to give the Dr the results and then on to dispensary, where they guy thought I was crazy as I’d clocked that I had been prescribed 4 lots of meds and he had only given me 3, after a long battle in broken English he found the 4th packet which turned out to be the most important of the lot !!

Tuesday saw my second and unfortunately third visit to the hospital this week. I offered to help out my fellow volunteer to run an ICT course in Jirapa for some teachers to learn the basics. After the course I was leaving the District office when my moto slipped on the sand and my left elbow helped me stop. Fortunately there were a few officers there to ‘clean me up’. This in itself was quite an ordeal, first was the gentle cleaning with the Kleenex and water then came a marvellous idea from another officer of pouring ‘spirit’ on the wound, I nearly shot through the roof and had to kerb any obscene language at this point. I got back on my moto and rode back to Nadowli where my housemate continued to help clean me up. It was then that I was able to look in the mirror to see for myself what damage I had done, I realised that the hole in my elbow was actually more than the graze I had first imagined. We decided a trip to the hospital to see if they actually do stitches was in order. Very kindly the Director sent her driver to pick us up.

On arriving at the hospital at about 4.30pm there was another long wait as there were no Drs or Nurses around. An assistant assured me she had asked for a Dr after I showed her my arm. Eventually two very nice ladies appeared and said that it needed sutures. Being the wuss that I am I had to ask if they would use local anaesthetic, seeing my face obviously a picture, the assistant replied we don’t use any. I was pleased to find out that they do use anaesthetic, so after the local had taken effect and she had SCRUBBED out the wound, the stitching began. Only the thread kept snapping, lots of attempts and copious amounts of their laughter later, I eventually had two stitches in place and the most useless dressing known to man. Come back in two days to have the dressing changed.  By the time I returned home the dressing had come off, so a few strips of micropore and Bob’s your uncle as they say. No, it came off again an hour later and to my horror one of the stitches had also come undone.

So another phone call to the Director, as it was now too dark to walk, the very kind driver arrived to take me back to the hospital at 8.30pm. This time I took the sterile kit I brought with me from England that has a suture needle and silk in. When we arrived the waiting room was empty and there was no-one around so we sat and waited. Eventually a guy came through a door my face lit up only to be told that the blood transfusion had finished, obviously I looked like a Dr with my huge bandage wrapped around my arm. After about ½ hour a young girl appeared to go and find my records, while she was gone I discovered they were still on the table where the Nurses had left them earlier in the evening, without any mention of my earlier visit recorded. Finally a guy appeared in blue scrubs and came and looked at my arm. It needed to be stitched again. He called for a nurse and I gave them my kit, they proceeded to stitch me up with their kit and again the thread broke so to my kit where he managed a stitch and then dropped the needle on the floor. Another stitch was needed, so back to their thread. I just hope it stays together this time. We’ll see when I go to get the dressing changed, I daren’t peel it off in case !!

What a week . . . . .

Over the last week I have had the opportunity to ‘visit’ a few schools and have a few observations to share.

Last Friday I was invited to ride out with another volunteer from a neighbouring district to some of the KG’s in her circuits. We were out to monitor how many children were in each class, how many teachers, what resources are available for them to use etc. We pulled up at the first school and there were no teachers to be seen, just lots of children milling around, playing ‘playground games’, kicking around a make-shift football made of old socks and empty water sachets. When we asked the children where their teachers were they had gone to the bank to collect their salary ! !

The next school we went to was very welcoming, a small KG with one teacher and one classroom for 168 children. We arrived to a welcoming committee of children that I’m sure have never seen a white person before, let alone two in one go. We were greeted by a male teacher who was wearing a very interesting flowery, chiffon blouse which would have obviously been worn by an older lady in the UK. Clothes here do tend to have a unisex theme about them, it is common to see boys in pink Barbie t-shirts or with a pink ‘Dora’ backpack. Most of the clothes sold on the markets here are what we would put in our doorstep collections bags back home and because of the lack of access to the media and I guess ‘western norms’, clothes are just clothes and don’t have a gender stereotype attached.

We then moved onto some more schools and I finally got to see some schools where the KG classroom is actually children sat under the tree. When we arrived we were shown to where the KG children were working. The KG1 children were working with the teacher is a small hut about 3m x 2m, 106 children, no lights, no resources, just the sandy floor as their work surface. The KG2 class were sat under a tree, 4 to a desk made for 2, a piece of chalk each and were using the surface of the desk to practice writing their numbers and letters. No paper, workbooks or slates to write on and easily wiped clean at the end of the session. The teacher has no access to a blackboard so demonstrates skills by drawing in the sand for the children to practice. Schools are given 4.50 cedi’s (£1.80)  per child, per year to buy resources and maintain the school building, so it is understandable why schools are so under resourced. When I think of the resources a Nursery or Reception classroom has at their disposal and the books we throw away it seems criminal to see these children having to accept what they have.

As we went around we were asking the teachers what they felt that they needed help with, we were thinking along the lines of making TLM’s (phonics card’s, number card’s, word card’s, posters etc), writing lesson notes, behaviour management etc. Most of the teachers were concerned about whether the children had uniform. Priorities here are very different to what we would prioritise at home. I’m sure that children are able to learn just as well without uniform ! !

On Monday this week I went to watch the England v France game at a spot in Jirapa. Two white women watching the football with a few beers caused quite a stir. We sat watching the game, being constantly interrupted by passersby wanting to know which team we were supporting and what was the score. After a disappointing result, we asked if we could pay for our drinks, only to be told that our drinks had already been paid for, a few guys at the next table had taken pity on us or actually fancied their chances ! ! On the way out one guy was shouting ‘Nansapor, Nansapor’(white woman) so Ellie turned round and said “Which one ? Me or Her ?” He wanted my attention and continued to tell me that He loved me more than a harmattan pawpaw, which I can only presume is a compliment. He asked if I was married, to which I always reply that I am. (Easier than having to give out your number and stops the 3am phone calls ! !) He turned his attention to Ellie and proceeded to tell her that he loved her more than a harmattan pawpaw.

Yesterday I was working my usual Thursday morning in the local KG here in the village. As I may have mentioned in a previous blog, most school children carry a razor blade with them in school. I hadn’t realised that this also happened in KG’s. The children were given a written task to perform, so out came the books and pencils, some get out the sharpener to sharpen their pencils and some get out the razor blade, my heart sank, seeing a 3/4yr old using a razor blade had me on pins, we wouldn’t let a child of that age near a razor let alone let them use it to sharpen a pencil. The lesson continued and blades were put away, until I realised that two children were sat huddled together, so I went over to see what they were doing and found one of them cutting the other child’s fingernails with said blade. Horrified is not the word to describe my thoughts, but this apparently is the norm and the way all Ghanaians cut their nails.

Today can actually be described as ‘normal’. I’ve been into a school to teach P5 how to use a computer. Most have never touched a computer before and this was very evident by how stiff their fingers were. Children struggle to bend their fingers, I had them practicing doing a spider up and down each other’s backs. (Crazy white woman is at it again) We were only learning the home row keys and most struggled to put a finger on each key, the more we tried the stiffer their fingers became. I now realise why we harp on so much about fine and gross motor skills so much in schools at home. Dexterity is just not something you meet in schools here. So more spiders next week ! !

I'm here to HELP ! !

Well I’m sat in the Teacher Resource Centre on another very slow afternoon in Nadowli. (Most of you are probably celebrating the Diamond Jubilee) I have advertised on posters at the GES office and at every workshop or Heads meeting I have attended that I will be in the TRC every afternoon from 2 – 4pm to help make TLM’s (Teaching and Learning Materials), assist with computer skills, introduce teachers to the use of phonics in the classroom and any general help required, until I leave Ghana. In the entire time that I have turned up each day, not one person has been in to visit and ask for any help, ever the optimist; I still turn up each afternoon hoping that one day someone will indeed turn up and ask for my help !! My kindle is proving to be the best present I have ever received to date. I’m managing on average 3 books a fortnight, which for me is unheard of.

Keeping busy is proving difficult as the IDEA of having someone to come into school to help is brilliant, but the REALITY is actually not really welcomed. I think most Head teachers and their staff want you to come in and do things for them but they don’t actually want to take your ideas on board and make any changes as invariably this means extra work for them. They don’t see the big picture for the long term, actually what I suggest will actually in the long run make their teaching easier.

I have been into three schools and assigned a day to each to go in and help them anyway I can. Tuesday in a Primary, Wednesday in a JHS and Thursday in a KG. So far I have done an ICT training for the Primary and sat in on a two hour phonics lesson in the KG and not managed to get my foot in the door at the JHS as there is always an excuse as to way I can’t stay when I arrive. The JHS has been given 24 netbooks, (laptops) which have not been used since they were received nearly five months ago, I was hoping to get into school and get them started with using them. Last week was sports week and a team from each school represented their school in a circuit competition, this meant that not only were the 6 or so in the team out of school but lessons were cancelled for everyone all week.

After chatting to a friend and fellow volunteer in the next district, where staff tend to be more open to support, she has offered for me to join her with some of her work, helping with ICT workshops, visits to schools etc until I finish up my placement when the schools close for summer. Hopefully this will be good experience that I can take with me when I leave Ghana and return home.

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