Let There Be Babies!

Up until now, I've seen three live births in my life: one with an obstetrician, one with a midwife, and a c-section. Well today, I doubled that number in a matter of hours.

Today had a rocky start, as I didn't sleep much last night and woke up to shower and be ready by 7:30. Once we got to the hospital, the woman we were supposed to be meeting wasn't going to be in until 10 and then (at 10) called to say that she didn't know I was coming today and we would have to wait until Monday. I was not pleased. I didn't realize that coming around New Years would be such a problem and I've had to wait until everyone returned from vacation. (Since when do hospitals take vacations?) Needless to say, I was frustrated and emotional and questioning why I came. But they found a doctor to "show me around" before Monday and he introduced me to a bunch of the residents and then basically dropped me off in the labor and delivery room with the midwives. Was that so hard?

Delivery tables

Despite my excitement to meet the midwives, they are kind of like an exclusive club--a club that only speaks Twi, -sigh-. I resigned to just smiling and nodding and convinced myself that I was fine with silence and observation. 

After sitting for a bit listening unintelligibly to the cool kids talk in Twi, I was approached by a young man--the only male in the ward--who introduced himself as Ben, a medical student. Ben is 22 and went to high school in North Carolina, meaning his English is the best I've heard. Ben became my ticket in. 

Ben and a midwife

He told me all about the ward and patients who were currently laboring, and which would probably deliver next. After an hour or so, it was go time. A new woman was escorted into the ward in heavy labor and ready to go. She literally walked in, put her bags down, pulled her dress up, and gave birth. Boom. 1 baby down. 

I like to think I'm fairly well-versed in most aspects of the labor and delivery process, which is probably an overstatement, but I know what's going on. As the woman was giving birth, a gross, green substance was coating the baby. Though I had never seen it before, I knew it had to be meconium--basically fetal poop that is released if the baby is in distress. It's extremely dangerous because it can easily be aspirated once the baby is born and begins to breathe. And sure enough, when I asked Ben afterwards, he said that this woman's water had broke ON MONDAY and she didn't want to come in. If i was that baby, I would be distressed too. 

Once the baby was born, they had me rub and try to stimulate the baby, but with so much meconium, they needed suction and further assistance and transported him the MBU (mother-baby unit).

What a rush. 

Just as this baby was whisked off, a woman that had been laboring since I arrived moved from the labor bed to the delivery chair. 1, 2, 3, baby. These women make it look easy.

Baby 2

Finally, an hour or so later, the final baby of the day. A woman walked into the ward well into labor. And her stomach was huge! I said to Ben, "Do you think it's twins?" and he said, "I really hope not." While she was completely dilated, her water had not yet broken, so the midwives decided to rupture the membranes. As one of the midwives inserted the metal pair of forceps to break the amniotic sac, a drizzle of water appeared and I said, "Yay!" Nope. A few seconds later, WHOOSH! Fluid flew out of that woman and all over the floor and Ben's feet. Glad I was off to the side. 

The baby followed soon after, accompanied by another tidal wave that soaked Ben. So in conclusion, it wasn't twins, just a single baby in a sea of amniotic fluid. Mmm....

Ben had to leave to go change and shower, so I took this as my cue to leave as well. What a day! And I was feeling so great that I knew I could make it back to the house by myself. 

I took the tro-tro and a taxi all by myself! I could tell that the tro-tro attendant was impressed, if not just amused. Ha! And then a man in the taxi tried to convince me to pay his way, but I set him straight. Zing!

Feeling great and can't wait until I go back on Monday!

Maybe if I make more friends, I won't have to take so many selfies...

Baby count: 3 

Babies caught: 0 

Blood pressures taken: 1 (killed it) 

Abdominal examinations: 1 

Times soaked by amniotic fluid: 0

Until later, 

Allie

Ghanaian New Years, Happy 2014!

Here comes the rain

I've only been in a church a handful of times in my life and one of them was for my own Bat Mirtzvah. If that doesn't indicate how unorthodox my experiences at church have been, I don't know what does. Well, we can certainly add New Year's Eve at a church in Kumasi to that list. 

We headed to the church around 10 and right when we arrived, I knew this was going to be different. You could hear the people from the street. 

Once inside, I realized that this was no church, this was a party! Everyone was so excited, dancing and singing so passionately. The sermon was more like a pep rally, with a hip hop dance performance complete with Michael Jackson single-gloved dancers. I kid you not.

Even though I understood very little of what was said (they spoke mostly in the local Twi (pwee) and switched to English near the end) it still had a great message: holiness before power (I think). However, by the time we left (2 and a half hours later) I was more than ready for bed. Reverend looooved to talk. 

Also, I have undoubtedly never been more of a minority than I was last night. In a room full of at least 300 people, I was the only "bruni" (white girl--i hear it echo after me down the street). Everyone is super polite, but you can always tell what people are thinking reflected by the children. They stare at me and when I wave they grin and giggle and look away. I'm a one-woman show! 

The little boy sitting in front of me was having a field day!

____

Backtracking a bit to earlier in the day, I had my first experience with more local children. Romeo, Mammia, and I were playing soccer (ahem, football) outside when a bunch of neighborhood boys came to play. I stole the ball from them once, but it was definitely a fluke. I couldn't beat a bunch of 10-year-old Ghanian boys in flip flops playing soccer if my life depended on it. So I was the ball girl. Maybe someday they'll let me play... Haha!

After they finished playing and realized I was harmless, they all crowded around me and tried to speak to me in Twi at 100 MPH--all 8 of them. It was a game and they thought it was hilarious. They would speak to me in English and I still wouldn't understand, then switch to Twi and I would be so confused. Bullied by a bunch of 10 year olds... ;) 

Tangent: Somehow, Mammia found my belly button ring and all the kids were fascinated, if not a little horrified. "Did it hurt a lot?" they asked, wincing and grabbing their stomachs. "It's just like an earring," I said, "but in my belly button."  "But why?" And then I didn't know what to say...

Overall, I think I'm in with the kids and I had to promise that I would see them again tomorrow, after telling one of them that I couldn't get him a passport to the US...they start young. 

___

As I write this, I'm relaxing on this lovely New Year's morning with a bowl of corn flakes and soy milk (yes!!) I won't start at the hospital until Friday and it can not get here soon enough!

I hope you all had a great start to 2014!

-Allie

In Ghana, Finally

These past 48 hours have been ridiculously long and absolutely nonstop, but I'm finally here!

Last night at about 8 PM I landed in Accra. Immediately upon exiting the plane, the rain started. Welcome to Africa? Ha! Because the rain was so unexpected, the people at the airport didn't know exactly what to do and it took upwards of 2 hours for all the luggage to come out. Not to mention, there was major leakage from the ceiling until the rain stopped. It was a mess.

Thankfully, I got both of my bags and found the person waiting for me with my name on a sign (don't you love that?). We headed back to a house in Accra that I was to stay for the night. I was exhausted and nervous and they fact that I was staying in a room without a lock in a house with three strange men didn't help either. But at this point, nothing was keeping me from sleep.

We left Accra early in the morning. He had emphasized that we were leaving at 4:30, so I was up and ready to go (to the sound of roosters, mind you). But naturally, I was the first one up. When he came into my room around quarter of 5 and saw I was up, he said "You're ready, God bless you." That's me, always early! ;)

So we  boarded a bus from Accra to Kumasi, a ride that took another 5 hours. The bus was sweet, sort of like a coach bus, but pimped out in the most 70's way possible. There were colored lights lining the aisle and pink seat covers and fancy trim on the windows. The best part though, is that it was air conditioned and I easily slept almost the whole ride. 

In Kumasi, I met Dora, who is hosting me, and her children Romeo and Mammia. Romeo is 12 and Mammia is almost 3. I already have a little shadow and I love it. 

I took my first shower in what felt like forever--with water from a bucket. It was actually really nice and 

there is no way you can lack water pressure when you're pouring a bucket over your head... Efficiency!

First real meal in what also feels like forever was beans and plantains (YES PEOPLE I ATE THE PLANTAINS!). But anything besides the plain bread I've been eating would have sufficed. 

Sorry for the lack of interesting pictures, I would have taken more, but I spent most of today sleeping and I think I'm about to go do it again.

Tonight is New Year's Eve and Dora is taking me to church. I'm actually pretty psyched. We don't have WiFi in the house so I'm not sure when I will post this or others, but I'll try my best to keep you updated!

Happy New Year!

-Allie

P.s. just because I thought it was funny: 

 P.p.s. The frizz in my hair is outrageous.

When in Amsterdam...

Hello all!

I am currently sitting in a Dutch cafe in the Schiphol airport in Amsterdam! And while many of you are probably yet to wake up this Monday morning, I never really went to sleep. I left Boston at 7:00 PM, flew for 6 hours, and landed in Amsterdam at (local time) 7:00 AM. Being a small person, I pride myself with my ability to get comfortable in airplane seats, but today, there were just too many distractions to sleep.

So here I am, running on approximately 1 hour of sleep in the past 24 hours and I'm feeling great, if not just a little confused by all this Dutch. 

When I landed in Amsterdam this morning and the sun had yet to rise. I found this odd, seeing as it was after 7, but there's something beautiful about flying into a city at night and it's something a camera can't capture. This airport is insane. From where I'm sitting, I can see a casino, a spa, a museum, a library, an oxygen bar, and a meditation center (what?). I had no idea where I was going when I left the airport, but followed the crowd and somehow found my way to the trains. 

This is the first time I've traveled somewhere where I know absolutely nothing of the language. While most of the people speak English, the signs don't. It's terrifying. However, the people are also super friendly and are quick to help me because I probably look like a lost child. Eh, I'll take it. 

So anyway, not understanding the machine, I bought too many tickets and got on the wrong train, but sorted it out and made it into the city pretty quickly thanks to a nice conductor. 

Where am I?

Amsterdam is one of the most unique cities I've ever been in. Everything about it is distinct and a lot of it has a futuristic feeling, while at the same time looking historic. I was told that walking in one direction would bring me to stores, while walking in the other direction would bring me to the notorious Red Light District.

When in Amsterdam...

Just kidding! I wandered in the direction of the RL District, but didn't venture all the way for fear of 1) seeing more than I wanted to, 2) venturing too far from the train station, 3) freezing because I refused to pack a jacket. I did see my far share of sex shops and weird stores, but I have a feeling that 8:00 on a Monday morning isn't prime sexy-time...

My initial thought was to find a cafe and get some breakfast (midnight snack? what time is it?) but I was discouraged by not understanding anything that was written and the fact that most of the "breakfast" places were also bars... So instead, I briskly made a large perimeter of the center of the city and after an hour or so, had a much smoother train ride back to the airport. 

The trains were so cool and so much better than the system in Boston. They were ridiculously punctual and comfortable and smooth! I also think it's so neat that while I was on an "intercity train", there were trains on adjacent tracks that would be "international trains", going to Paris or Germany. Europe is so cool. 

So that brings me here. After walking around this massive airport, and convincing myself that with 4 hours until my flight I wasn't going to miss my plane, I stopped at the "Dutch Kitchen". I settled with a salad and pancakes because I have no idea what time it is and the pancakes were the cutest thing in the world.

As it turns out, they are the most delicious too! Poffertjes may just be my new favorite food. Certainly not vegan, but certainly delicious. And when in Amsterdam...

And so here I am, with 3 hours left until my flight to Accra, and ready for a nap. I would sleep but the paranoid part of me doesn't want to miss my flight. Good thing there's another 6 hour flight ahead of me, keep your fingers crossed that the movies aren't as good and I can get some sleep!



Next time you hear from me, I will have reached my final destination. I cannot wait for some heat.

Talk to you soon!

-Allie

p.s. just looked at the receipt and realized the baby salad and baby pancakes cost me $13... Well, when in Amsterdam...

Ghana: Pre-Departure Thoughts

Hey guys! 

In lieu of writing a post that was all words and no pictures, I made a vlog with a little overview of what I'll be doing for the next 3 weeks and my thoughts on the whole experience prior to departing the US. I'll be back with written posts (and maybe vlogs!) once I've settled in Ghana!  

Enjoy!

-Allie

Day 14: My Last Adventures

            Yesterday was Friday and my last day at the orphanage. It was business as usual though, and I didn’t want to make a big deal that I was leaving—the children and nurses see volunteers come and go all the time. But nonetheless, I was sad to go. I spent extra time inside with a few of the children singing French songs and dancing. It was a welcome change from running around. Right before we left, the two English speaking women we met the other day offered to show us around the orphanage building that houses the children up for adoption. Oh my babies. They were ridiculously adorable. The atmosphere in this area of the orphanage was much different than the special needs ward. The walls had more pictures and the place just seemed brighter. Maybe I was making it up, but it seemed happier. We didn’t stay for long because the nurses seemed a little annoyed that we were there, they probably recognized the I-want-to-steal-a-baby-look on all our faces. I can only hope that all the babies find good homes, and soon.

Bye-bye Lalla Meryam Orphanage!

            Back at the Home Base, some people left for Fes for the weekend while others (like me) started to pack for home. After lunch and an unofficial naptime, we had tea and then departed for one of our biggest adventures yet. We were on our way to the Hammam! The Hammam is a community “bath” that most Moroccan women visit once a week. With absolutely no idea what to expect, we packed our shampoo and a towel, Malone and I dragging Kate and Meghan kicking and screaming to the cab.

The outside of the Hammam was completely inconspicuous. In fact, we had driven past it almost every day for the past few weeks! When we walked in, saying we stood out was an understatement. Behind the counter in the main room were older Moroccan women, large and topless to say the least. I tried to speak to them in French, asking for the scrubbing mitt and soap I knew we needed, but she was not having it. Luckily, a nice younger woman who spoke English came over, laughing, and helped us pay for the mitt and a woman to scrub each of us. Immediately after we paid, large, naked women—seemingly fighting over who would get each of us as a client—surrounded us. We quickly stripped down and were lead by the wrist into the Hammam.

Oh man. The washrooms were unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It was made up of two large, tiled rooms with domed ceilings. Scattered about the two rooms were naked women scrubbing themselves and being scrubbed by the Hammam massagers. Khadija told us previously that many women wash themselves at the Hammam, but for first timers, you need to hire one of the women. ;) The room was intensely hot and humid, like a sauna, with heated tile floors. My scrubber led me into the second from and told me to sit on the floor. I watched as she filled buckets of water from across the room. Malone and Kate were nearby in the room, Meghan in the other room, and we couldn’t help but laugh when we looked at each other.

What it looked like, minus all the white people
Source

She sat down nest to me and began to scrub my arms with the mitt. You could see the dead skin sloughing off. It was gross, but super cool. This woman knew what she was doing—she scrubbed my arms, my torso, my sides, my back, my legs, my neck, until my skin felt like butter. I thought that the scrubbing would hurt, but it honestly felt really good—like a pedicure, but on your entire body. Usually in Morocco, they use the black soap after they exfoliate, but they had run out and used the soap we brought instead. She massaged me again with the soap and washed my hair too. At this point, I never wanted to leave. I can only imagine what we looked like though, being pushed and rolled around naked by large Moroccan women. It was certainly quite the sight. But walking out of the room 40 minutes or so later, I felt like a new person! No wonder the Moroccan women go once a week! Talk about being pampered, we all LOVED it. Bummer that I’m leaving this week, or I definitely would have gone again! No worries though, I got to keep my scrubby glove and intend to use it again.

What it looked like, minus the men, the white people, and all the clothes :)
Source

When we got back to the house, Khadija had the henna ready for me. Khadija gives henna tattoos to all of the volunteers before they leave the house. Watching her make the designs was captivating. She says she just makes it up as she goes along and gained the skill through hours of practice with her friends in high school. So cool, I wish I was Moroccan. She made designs on each of my palms because it lasts longer than the back of the hands. The dye itself is made from a plant and is mixed with lemon and sugar. She said some people drink it, ew, it looks like mud to me. Henna is only done on the feet of married women in Morocco, so mine are henna-less, haha. I let it sit for about an hour, eating dinner using only my three un-designed fingers, then it began to fall off, revealing an orange design that should last about two weeks.

Zweena!

Henna on a freshly scrubbed body!

For my last night in Rabat, we decided to go—where else?—to the Glacerie Ice. Once again, I had a chocolate crepe, yum, while the others had some ice cream and hot chocolate. The highlight of the night, though, was when our best friend waiter came over to the table. He asked if I spoke French, which he knew I did because I always help the others order—haha. He looked nervous and I was afraid he was going to tell us something bad, but instead, he started asking us about the United States. Not about the country, but about how foreigners like living in America, if there are a lot of Muslims, where they live, etc etc. Kate, with knowledge of all things Muslim, had an answer to all of these questions, to which I would translate to French. He kept the questions coming, asking if everyone in the United States was rich like Brad Pitt (his exact words). Hahahah. We told him that there are more opportunities in the USA for those who speak English (or are bilingual) and have a university degree. This was the deepest conversation I’ve had in French thus far, and was SO proud of myself. Anyway, when we got back to the house, Kate decided that she was going to write him a letter about Muslims and job opportunities in America, as well as some resources in Rabat where he could learn English (two of which are classes taught by CCS volunteers). I helped to translate it into French, and they’re going to give it to him the next time they get dessert, which I’m sure will be soon.  It will be really cool if he decides to take the English classes through CCS, but even if he doesn’t, it feels really good to have answered all his questions and educated him a little more.

Whew. Well that was my last day. This morning, Kate, Malone, and Meghan left for Fes and I finished packing and am currently waiting for lunch. I leave for Paris in an hour and a half. I can’t believe my time here is coming to a close. I had so much more fun and learned so much more than I expected to. I will definitely be back.


Next time you hear from me, I’ll be in Paris!

Au revoir!

-Allie

Day 12: Roman Ruins and Cooking with Khadija

Chellah ruins

Wednesday was a typical day in the neighborhood: hard work at the orphanage and then back to the Home Base to relax for the day. Not so typical, after placement and lunch, Abdellah took us for a tour of the Chellah ruins. There was a mosque as well as a school built in the 1300s. Apparently, there was a earthquake in the 1800s that partially destroyed the buildings. It was really cool to be able to see the foundation of the buildings, even with some mosaic tile still visible. There were also ruins of mausoleums and tombs where Muslim “saints” are buried.

Storks on the minaret

Storks!

Saints burial place

            The ruins were beautiful, and as we walked further through them, we entered Roman ruins from an earlier era. It was so cool to see statues, or parts of statues, with Roman writing, yards away from buildings with Arabic writing.

Broken Roman statue

            Highlight of Wednesday was definitely coming back to crepes at teatime. I honestly think I’m going to go through withdrawal of Moroccan food once I get home, haha.

--

            Thursday was a messy day at the orphanage. Bathing and feeding the kids took extra long and by the time we left, we were all covered in who-knows-what. We did meet a woman from Boston who was at the orphanage with her sister, who was adopting a little boy. Small world. It’s nice to talk to a third party about what we’re doing in Morocco every once in awhile because sometimes I forget how much we’re helping.

            After lunch we had another cooking lesson. YES! This time Khadija taught us how to make this pancake-like bread we sometimes have for breakfast. It’s super flaky and a little bit crispy and basically delicious. I was surprised at the ease of the recipe in contrast to how much work it took to make them. The bread was simple—made only of flour, wheat, water, and salt. But Khadija mixed and kneaded the bread FOREVER, making it nice and fluffy. Then, she made perfect little balls of dough, proceeding to flatten them, and add a semolina/baking powder mix before she folded them into nice squares. We cooked them on a skillet, flattening them out a little and eating them with strawberry jelly at teatime, mmm…

Mix

Knead

Perfect balls!

Flatten

Cook

           Cooking was followed by another Arabic script lesson. We learned the rest of the letters and how to write our names! There's something so exciting about being able to write your name in another language. Overall, Arabic is so hard to write and if I had to use it all the time, it would take me forever to write one sentence. Good thing it's so pretty.  

Zweena!

            Malone, Kate, Meghan, Sarah, and I left right after teatime for the Medina. I finished up my souvenir shopping and can’t wait to pass out presents! The Medina is always such an experience. For one, no matter how much we try, we never seem to blend in. Funniest comment was from a man we walked by who said, “Hey, Spice Girls!” This was followed by a close second to a man who called me “Little Shakira” and another who called me “the little Moroccan sister” of the group. Their creativity with English is impressive, haha. I am not very good at bargaining, though. I think it’s because I don’t want to offend anyone. Malone and Kate were getting some good practice with their haggling, though. With some help from Sarah. The key is to seem disinterested. They got some good deals, but according to Khadija when we got back, they should have started the bargaining even lower. We’re still learning.

            Our new game in the house is Trivial Pursuit on Malone’s iPad. We played for a while after dinner, and Khadija even brought us some popcorn. She’s the best.

            Tomorrow is my last day at placement and I don’t know how I feel about it. I’m going to miss the kids and the nurses for sure.

Be back tomorrow!

Bonne nuit,

-Allie