We weren’t given breakfast this morning; I guess they forgot about us. So I had a Luna Bar to get me through the morning. As I tried to carry my bucket to the shower spot, I realized I’m horrible at basic survival skills. The bucket kept knocking against my knees, splashing EVERYwhere. Mama says it’s because I’m short and not as strong as Samantha. The strength thing I get, but honestly, people in this region of Ghana at least are quite small- men are my size or a bit taller, and women are usually smaller than me. At any rate, the bucket shower was cold, but refreshing.
The early part of the morning brought along little visitors- Kofi, Michael, and Maufuaemo. Kofi and Michael attend a private school in the next village over, but the teacher had a stroke and because there is no replacement, they haven’t been attending school all week. We practiced numbers with the kids—Kofi did fairly well, despite his troublemaker character and lack of attention, and Maufuaemo was catching on too, but Michael was clearly behind. Parents are so busy working all the time, they barely have any free time to spend with their children to teach, let alone play. Cognitive development isn’t helped by anything here. Flies accompanied the children, swirling around their eyes, hair, feet, and open cuts and burns. Samuel, the tro-tro man who collects the money, paid us a short visit as well.
We went to Mama’s house to wait for her to be ready, and then the three of us traipsed off to the library to begin the reorganization project. It was quite a task that engulfed most of the day. There are 2 long bookshelves that face each other from opposite ends of the rectangular room. Books were somewhat grouped together, but both sides of the room had English and math and science books. We removed everything from the shelves and piled the books in the center of the room on a long table, sorted them, and decided where they would go. We placed them back on the shelves, binding side out, and proceeded to make new labels by subject. Some books were too challenging, almost inappropriate donations, which we placed on the high shelves, probably never to be opened: college algebra, C++ programming, PhotoShop, algorithms, mechanical engineering, principles of thermal mechanics, parasitology, etc. The more appropriate level texts were placed at eye level, with story books on the bottom shelf. We took a short break for lunch and accidentally fell asleep, but woke at 2pm to have red-red (beans and plantains) and hurried back to the library to finish. The headmaster looked in on us at 2:45pm to check our progress and seemed relatively disinterested. It was clear that neither he nor any of the teachers had looked through the text books in the library to see what could be incorporated into the curriculum. He came to ask us a favor. He wanted us to order two books, one for him and one for the school, which he did not describe. Apparently it needs to be ordered and he asked if we would use a credit card and he would pay us the cedi equivalent. Uncomfortable being asked for money, I quickly declined, fully knowing that there were plenty of resources in this library, and anything he absolutely needed, he could get himself. Sam told him she’d think about it. He left us the key to the library and we finished up while accumulating a few onlookers as I put up the last shelf labels. It started to rain so we decided to lock up and head back. Before I shut the door, I looked around at the bare floor (the only seating area) and wondered if it would actually be used any more than it is now, or not.
On the way back we decided to pay Richard a visit. Richard is the village tailor and also runs a small bar out of the same room. I was hoping he would be warmer and slightly more upbeat than in our recent exchanges, but had little hope. I quickly found out why. As we walked the worn pathway to his bar/tailor area, I could see his head was resting on the bar counter. I softly said his name, not to startle him, and he looked up at me, his right eye swollen and wet with discharge. I had noticed when we arrived that his eyelid was swollen, almost so that the eye was shut, but he hadn’t mentioned anything. This time, it was swollen shut. I glanced at the counter and took in the 5 mismatched small glasses that appeared cloudy, the measurement spoon used to serve a shot, and the shallow bowl of dirty water used to rinse glasses after use, flies everywhere. As Richard rubbed his eye with a dirty bar rag, he explained that 3 weeks ago he woke with a severe pain in his eye and went to the hospital. There he was told that he has cancer of the cornea and must have the eye removed before it spreads to the other eye, rendering him blind and unable to work. At this point his eye was leaking and I wasn’t sure if it was discharge or tears from the pain; the discomfort and pain were written all over his face. He lifted the lid to show me his eye, which was red and also swollen, the color of his eye indiscernible through the cloudy and almost bloated image of what used to be his pupil. For the pain he was given the equivalent of basic ib-profin. He hasn’t returned to have the procedure because it will cost 250 cedis- almost 10 months’ salary. I started counting in my head the amount of money I had with me. I did have some extra ib-profin I had brought, so I promised to drop it by later, wondering what would happen with Richard.
When we got home, we were joined by several kids who came by to color for a while. Mama brought us dinner (a small omelet to share) and told us to tell the children to go home if they are smelly and not to come back until they have bathed. Good information to have. Sema, Hans, and Emil joined us after dinner where we discussed Richard’s condition. Mama’s deaf brother, Kujo, has the same problem but it’s not as bad. He has been to an eye treatment center closer to Ho, and they claim the eye removal procedure would only cost 65 cedis—much more manageable. We decided to encourage Richard to go there while Emil joked that if Richard dies, who will care for his baby, and suggested that I take the baby home with me to America. I was caught off guard… Richard has a baby?? He’s almost an elder! As I declined taking the baby with me, Emil noticed the 2 bottles of unopened Star beer from the other day. He asked in surprise why we have not drank it, and I explained because we were full and tired when we were given the beer, and now it’s hot. I told him he was welcome to take it if he wanted. His response was, “Kevin could drink 3 beers at once.” Automatically I replied more harshly than I intended: “Kevin, Kevin Kevin; I’m not Kevin!” I couldn’t tell if Emil understood me or not.
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