“Like everyone says, ‘no woman, no cry.’”

Friday, June 11, 2010

These past three days have been really productive. I have interviewed 13 doctors and they have all been very nice and insightful. I have a total of 85 interviews to do, so I only have 72 left!!! Transcribing the interviews is already really hard because the Ghanaian accent is so strong. (Side note: Ghanaian is pronounced “GHA-nee-in” and not “ghah-NAY-in”).

There are a lot of things I can’t figure out, and I have seen a few troubling trends, but I don’t have time to write about them and I don’t want to offend anyone, so those scraps of ideas will be in the next entry and will be edited better. This one will be slightly more upbeat.

Anyway, I am really enjoying a lot of aspects of this country. Everyone says hello or good morning on the street, and I am constantly reminding myself that you can’t start a conversation with, “excuse me, where is the ATM?”… First, you need to say, “good afternoon! How are you?” I imagine that if I were an American businessman, I would be really annoyed that it takes so long to ask for directions or buy bread, but I am not usually running anywhere, and it is nice to have instant friends. There are so few white people in Ghana and Ghanaians waste no time in shouting “obruni” (white person) at you, but they are also very eager to help you and to teach you things about their culture.

I also really like how the birthing process seems more natural here. I’ve never been attracted to water birthing or the “doctors are evil and snatch babies so let’s give birth at home even though my pregnancy is high-risk” theory, so my reaction to this hospital’s practices surprised me. It is very cool to walk through the lying-in ward and see 8 newborns sleeping in a bed with their mothers. No IVs, no monitors, just mother and child (mostly girls, with already-pierced ears). It seems so natural. It is refreshing to see a very human scene in a non-sterile fashion. I know it’s not rainbows and butterflies—the national maternal mortality rate is terrifying and there are women scattered all over the floor of the ward because there aren’t enough beds for all of them. In the past 3 days, I’ve seen about 150 women who look like they are ready to burst. They are lying on the benches, in every chair, on the curb, in cots outside the operating theatre. Yesterday I saw a very pregnant women in a bed by the operating theatre and she was moaning and grabbing the IV pole—clearly in pain. The nurses completely ignored her and kept watching the World Cup channel. I don’t think it was out of cold-heartedness—I think that’s just how things are. You fight through the pain. The nurses don’t stoop to the level of pain. Women have been giving birth way before C-sections and epidurals and episiotomies. I guess they can handle it? It was a little unnerving though.

Right now I’m living with Eva, a rising UofM M2, in the Kumasi Catering RestHouse. She’s one of the most enthusiastic, optimistic, and appreciative people I have ever met. She is doing facility assessments of 8 rural district clinics; 4 that have obstetricians and 4 that don’t, so she will be traveling all over. (I don’t envy her for that…) This Wednesday, she’ll be moving to the Agroyesum clinic, a Catholic district hospital. I’m not sure where I’m going to live when she moves—the doubles are 75 GhC (Ghana Cedis – pronounced ‘seedies’), which is about $60. My budget allows for $25 a night, but I have no idea how long I need to be in Kumasi. I need to do 31 interviews in Kumasi and 54 interviews in Accra, so I’ll probably need more time in Accra. The rooms are $8/night at the hostel in Accra, so it should even out. Anyway, the head of Ob/Gyn at the Kumasi hospital is really adamant about getting Eva and me to move to the medical student hostel but I’m not sure whether that is on the KNUST (Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology) campus or at KATH (Komfo-Anokye Teaching Hospital). Right now I can walk to the hospital which is where all my interviews are, so it is really convenient. Both hostels are in Kumasi but I definitely don’t want to move to the University campus because I’d have to take a cab every morning, and I’m not really sure how to do that! Anyway, I have 13 of the 31 interviews completed, so maybe I’ll be done by next week and then can move to Accra. Who knows. Probably not. Ghana time is KILLER. I watched the opening ceremonies and half of the first game of the World Cup today in the Ob/Gyn office, only to be told an hour later that there were no more interviews today. I went home and took a much-needed nap (yes, Rachel, I was very grumpy afterwards).

I’m really glad I listened to the first Twi cd before I came. They definitely speak Twi here, but it seems to be a mixture of Twi and English (pronounced Chreeee and Bruofu, respectively). Eva and I met a guy selling acrylic paintings on canvases and he has tried to teach us how to speak a little Twi. So far, no marriage proposals like we expected (white people apparently tend to flatter themselves), but he did mention that there was ‘chemistry’ and if he came to the United States, he would be able to identify me immediately. Yea RIGHT! He showed us where to buy fruit, and at least by Ghana standards, he hasn’t been too hell-bent on making us buy any of his paintings. (So far, I like his paintings the best, and I’ll probably end up getting one. Some of his are really gorgeous.)

The title of the post, “Like everyone says, ‘no woman, no cry’” was said by one of the street vendors. He sells paintings. Apparently he also teaches painting at the orphanage and he went to the University of Ghana for a few years to study art, but Eva noticed that the paintings were all signed, “Frank” and he told us that his name was something like, “Akimbwafa” or something like that. He caught us as we were leaving Vic Baboo’s Café, which is a pretty safe bet for travelers. We saw a TON of obrunis there—4 white people! Anyway, this guy sets up shop right outside of Vic’s and gets the obruni crowd. After he showed us all of his work (despite our saying over and over that we weren’t looking to buy anything tonight), he launched into this Eminem and Bob Marley quoting rant about how we are all connected and we all love each other and we’re one spirit. Then he told us he was going to give us a surprise and give us 42% off the paintings. “We’re really not looking to buy anything” didn’t do anything—he started saying, “no, that’s okay. I just wanted to show you so if you respect my culture (‘cultaaaaaah’), you would show me and buy one” etc. He was very nice and taught us some Twi and said he would teach us how to drum. Apparently it’s a pretty hopping street on Saturday nights.

I have tons more to write, but a combination of NO INTERNET ACCESS ANYWHERE (AHHHHHH) and sleepiness is persuading me to stop rambling. Oh, and COMMENT!!! Even if you just say hi, it makes me feel like someone is actually reading this blog!!

Ghanaian proverb of the day: Rain wets a leopard’s skin, but it does not wash out the spots.