March 8, 2010
Tomorrow morning we leave Tamale. This evening we had a thank you dinner for all the people who have helped us while we have been in Ghana. Philomena had driven up to Bolga a few days ago to celebrate in her home village when we officially gave them the grain mill and the goats, donkeys and carts that we had purchased, so she came the 3 hours from Bolga as opposed to the 13hrs from enchi. It was nice to see her again and officially say thank you, and goodbye. There are so many formalities in this country, and its very important if you are going to be doing any type of work here to make sure and follow the traditions and customs as best as you can, you don’t want to offend anyone, and the thank you party was a lovely way to recognize all of the people who have been “key” to our learning and assistance in Ghana.

We had a wonderful time at the dinner, but I couldn’t help but feel sad. I am so very happy to be going home, but I don’t want that to mean leaving. It’s a bit of a paradox really. I can’t have both, I know that, but I am already looking at ways I can come back. There are so many things that I am going to miss here. While we were walking home I thought about home much I am going to miss the busy streets. The streets are always teaming with people, even at night. All the little shops are outside and facing the street, and even though it is very dark there are always people out. There aren’t many TVs and people stay out visiting much longer than in Canada. There is just such a sense of community. People are always together and they are always sharing, their personal space is even much smaller. On the buses we are always just packed right in, so close to one another, and they don’t even think twice about it. Friends hold hands when they walk down the street. It’s a beautiful thing seeing two men holding hands in friendship. It is also not unusual to see men dancing together, in groups with no women at all. Just tonight at the thank you party, the men were dancing to the music around the pool, while the women swam.

March 9, 2010

Sometimes I Just like to observe the people interacting with each other. They are always so animated. I remember when we first arrived in the country we would sometimes be distracted by conversations that, of course, we couldn’t understand but, based on the tones, decided that the people were arguing with each other. I understand, now, the tones of conversations are so much different than tones in Canada. The people aren’t actually mad they are just expressive. They do it when they are happy too. It was quite overwhelming at first the combination of the way they speak paired with the their reduced personal space, and their genuine interest in you. I would literally have women, men and children coming right up to my face-directly in my face with boisterous voices asking “ Saminga, which land you come from?” and “ Saminga, where are you going”? Saminga is one of the words that means white woman. I was also called Abruinie a lot which means the same thing, Again, originally I was offended by these names, but after many conversations with the locals, I begun to realize, they mean no offense and that none should be taken. I often had to think “what do they think about us?” They must think we are stuffy and serious. It’s a funny thought, because in comparison, I think we are, but I can’t actually imagine any of the Ghanians that I have met, ever thinking anything remotely close to that though. We are so much more reserved than they are. They are always so quick to share their thoughts and curiosities with you, to approach you and become engaged in deep conversation. I am going to miss being surrounded by people, my life in Canada is so much more solitary. There are so many more things I am going to miss but I’ll have to get to that tomorrow. We are catching a bus to Takoradi tonight at 3am. We are going to stay on the coast for 4 days before we fly home. I can’t wait to see my people….

March 1, 2010
Today I prayed for the first time in years. I was on the labor and delivery ward and woman appeared in the second stage delivery room. They have the labor rooms set up into first stage and then second stage. First stage is for women who are less than 8cm dilated and the second stage room is for women dilated more than that. I am used to determining first and second stage a little differently and was surprised at the lack of immediacy on this ward, very surprised. Although, I am not sure why because it seems that nothing is of immediate importance in this country.

The woman that showed up in the second stage room (delivery room), I had not seen in the first stage room. I was trying to question one of the nurses as to where, she had come from and how many centimeters she was at, how far apart her contractions were, as well as the presentation of the baby. I wasn’t getting anywhere with my questioning. I think often, when the nurses don’t understand what you are talking about they simply ignore you. You can only rephrase so many times before you start investigating on your own. I began palpating the abdomen to check the “lie” of the baby. If I can find the baby’s back I can auscaltate the fetal heart rate. While kneading the abdomen for position, I locate the head above the belly button. I immediately started panicking. The nurses were busy dusting the room. Apparently that’s what they do first thing in the morning, and it is of utmost importance. I was frantically looking for assistance, as I couldn’t auscaltate a fetal heart either. When we removed the cloth from her groin, there were two little feet present. Nobody seemed to think this was important. The mother looked at me and asked me in broken English, if everything was going to be all right. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t seen this before. heard them talking about a possible C-section. I was able to talk to one of the nurses about it and she said that they often just deliver the breach babies. I didn’t ask anything about success rates.

When I looked toward the woman’s groin, I saw the feet moving. This is when I prayed. This just didn’t look good. Within a few minutes the baby literally just slid out, with his arms in the air, he was a little flaccid at first but he came around with a little stimulation and some oxygen. An interesting thing happened when I was helping to deliver the placenta. I placed my hand over her abdomen, to help stabilize the uterus while the cord was pulled on by the nurse, and I felt another head in the abdomen. There were two babies in this tiny little woman. The second little boy was delivered approximately 20minutes later facing the way he should have been, but with one arm above his head. Both boys survived the delivery.

I literally caught the next baby. It seemed like there was so much going on in that delivery room. There are so many staff but, like I said before, nothing is immediate. They insist on waiting 2-4hrs to do vaginal exams regardless of the circumstances, so there are women in the first stage room that I know perfectly well should have been in the second stage room. They were just held there because according to the charting, they were still in first stage. So again when I came into the labor room I was surprised to see one of the pregnant moms being switched from the 1st room to the 2nd room. She was naked and walking to her bed. In this room there are four labor beds all in a row. There is no privacy and today, they were full. As it happens this woman was without assistance. The nurses told her to move to the labor room, and they left her to do it on her own. I was just pulling gloves from my pocket when I saw the head between her legs. I managed to get my gloves on before reaching her, just in time to catch the baby falling between her legs. Thankfully, help was not too far behind. They brought the clamps and the scissors while I stood holding the bloody baby in shock.

The next baby we delivered was dead, and it looked like it may have been like that for a few days…The saddest thing about this for me was the fact that the mother had no privacy. She delivered in the same room as the 3 other women with live babies. The nurse just flopped the baby in a box and threw it on the floor. There is absolutely no empathy. That same box was later dropped at the father’s feet and opened, without so much as a kind word.