My luck has run out. Of all the times to suffer an attack of
diarrhoea; in a crowded tro tro roaring along a highway in torrential rain.
Elizabeth pleads with the driver to stop and he argues
furiously. Finally he concedes and pulls over at a deserted service station.
Deep, muddy puddles surround the dilapidated toilet. An obliging adolescent
registered my distress and throws down a plank and I wade through the slush,
like a novice circus performer.
Back in the tro tro, saturated but relieved, I pray the
imodione kicks in and wonder, pointlessly, what I ate or drank to cause my
embarrassing predicament.
Earlier I had rendezvoused with pretty Elizabeth, brown as a
berry, the crew leader of the Asi-Daahey and Maranatha schools and hospital
projects at coastal Ada Foah in the Dangme East District, where she has been
impressively in charge since February, ushering in waves of anxious volunteers.
Originally from Carlisle, she’s equipped with a Masters in International Development
and Education and at just 23 had already done the hard yards in Tanzania, Kenya
and other parts of Ghana.
Like a confident mother hen, Liz gathered together the
dazed, culture shocked new recruits; Susie, a speech therapy student from
Manchester, Beth, a charity worker from South London, Flavia, a trust manager
from Jersey and me, an Aussie journalist now living in Ealing, for a
comprehensive, if not mildly daunting, induction.
We convened in the beer garden of the Paloma Hotel and
Elizabeth eloquently outlined our roles, the health and safety issues, the
rules, the local customs, the natural environment and the cast of characters we
would encounter.
Seeking a much-needed vitamin fix, I ordered fresh carrot
juice chased by fresh orange juice. Perhaps the kitchen staff added tap water?
Elizabeth gave us a caste-iron guarantee that we would get sick if we foolishly drank the water straight up.
Plastic sachets were the only safe option.
We were joined for lunch by four amusing girls, brimming with
humorous anecdotes from their first week at the projects; Hannah, a biomedical
student at Newcastle Uni, and Susie’s friends; Jess, Alix and Charlotte, all
speech therapy students from Manchester. Keen for a break from spicy food, we
shared a veggie pizza, confident that appetising treat would be a safe food
choice!
But the instant I sat in the tightly-packed tro tro, as it
filled with passengers including a silent girl with a container of snails on
her lap and her mother nursing a metal head dish of yams, I knew something was
wrong as I feel all queasy.
But after the bizarre toilet stop, catastrophe is averted!
My stomach has stopped churning, the rain has vanished, the sun has broken
through the storm clouds, my clothes have dried out and all is well on the road
to Ada Foah.
When we arrive in the red dirt top end of town, the cool
dudes are out in force, swaggering near their shiny motor bikes; an impromptu
welcoming committee for the intriguing procession of fair skinned girls in
their shorts and flip flops.
The attractive, fresh-faced girls receive countless
proposals on a daily basis and the locals are shocked to know they are not
already married with several babies in tow! Their single status is a social
disgrace the cheeky lads offer to immediate rectify! The motorbike boys give me
the once-over and fortunately I now have the title of ‘Mama’ so I’m in no
danger of random marriage proposals!
Us wide-eyed new recruits enter the the cluttered rooms of
the MAD House, which is indeed extremely basic, no-frills accommodation and the
volunteers have not wasted time on housework! I resist the urge to play Mum and
start tidying up. Instead I make a cup of tea. What else would any
self-respecting Aussie-Brit do!
I am rather chuffed that I can figure out how to hang up my
mosquito net over my bottom bunk bed without any help and I claim a section of
gritty concrete floor space for my gear. Over-flowing bags, tangled clothes and
assorted girls’ stuff are strewn everywhere. Just like camping!
I meet a few of the village children who have popped in for
a visit. Showing them some photos of my family, my trusty little laptop is
fast-fading laptop and I panic, imagining my essential work tool going kaput,
then realise it just needs charging!
We venture out for dinner (more rice) at The Brightest Spot.
Lounging outside at a long table in the cool dark night, with the African
version of Big Brother playing on an overhead screen in the distance, the girls
swap entertaining stories and laughs as we watch a group of cute kittens play
in the garden, flipping and leaping and wrestling.
So I have arrived at Ada Foah and a new adventure begins.
I’m off to bed under my mossie net. Sweet dreams.
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