Saturday, June 23, 2012

5 Shia: Big Meals, Small Gestures


The rain falls gentle and soothing throughout the night but I am wide-awake at 2 am with a stuffed nose, burning throat and throbbing headache. I dread to think I’m coming down with a bug to spoil my trip. I remember I threw a trusty Vicks inhaler in my first aid kit when packing. So I use the feeble torch light to find it and instantly my nose is cleared and I’m pleased with my forward planning!

I pop two paracetamol and dab lavender oil on my temples and I’m feeling better and drifting off to sleep, lulled by a tuneful choir of frogs and cicadas.

Doris has made a massive bowl of porridge for us three for breakfast and we only manage to eat a fraction and Anna is concerned about wasting food so asks Justus to request that Doris reduces the quantity without causing offence. Her traditional food is delicious, although very high in carbs and a recipe for rapid weight gain!

Childminding is universal. It is impossible to concentrate on my work while watching Emmanuela for Doris who has gone to a Parent-Teacher meeting. The pretty toddler is parading in her best dress for a photo session. I take some snaps and resume typing on my laptop but she is bored and restless and wants my attention.

We read The Very Hungry Caterpillar, a storybook I packed to read to children in the orphanage. I realise that these children don’t have all the foods the caterpillar devours. No apples, pears, plums, strawberries, oranges, chocolate cake, ice-cream, pickles, Swiss cheese, salami, lollipops, cherry pie, sausages or cupcakes…but yes! They do have watermelon! I’m wondering if this book was a dumb choice for Ghanaian children used to simple foods.

Anna and Gabi are back from visiting the neighbouring schools to organise the Frisbee Championships and she recounts a hair-raising journey with the two of them on the back of a motor bike driven by a local guy along bumpy back tracks, strewn with rocks and water-filled pot holes and flooded bogs. At one terrifying point they were going down a steep cliff when the brakes failed but somehow they averted a crash and returned unscathed to tell the tale!

I must admit I’m glad I missed that little adventure! I prefer my vehicles to have four wheels, sides and a roof! (Throw in air conditioning and my favourite CDs, now that’s the way to travel!)    

I am feeling a little lost this afternoon, taken to my room to read the guide book about the final leg of my stay on the coast at Elima and I try to phone to book a hotel but can’t get through so resign myself to just showing up knowing there is sure to be a room in this off-peak season!

I sit outside to catch a breath of cool air and Justus joins me to discuss the finer points of investment in the cocoa project and suddenly I am embarrassingly pouring sweat until I look like I’ve just emerged from a swimming pool, literally dripping wet! I excuse myself to have a shower (bucket wash!)

Ironically the hardest challenge for me is not the basic living conditions but the sweltering humidity and at this stage of life I appreciate the brisk chill of London! Sun-lovers say I’m nuts to prefer a cold climate but that’s what menopause does to us former beach bunnies in middle age!

Doris introduces her mother, Olivia and beautiful slender sister Rose and her younger blossoming sister Fosti. I offer to take some family photos of them with the children and get prints and post to Doris when I get home. I don’t like the hassle of getting prints these days now we’re all digital but I figure it’s a small gesture.

After another filling meal of spicy rice and corn on the cob we sit outside and Doris compliments my dress, a strapless tropical print I bought for a few pounds from Primark. She says: “You give it to me.” It sounds rude but the guide book points out this is a common direct way Ghanaians ask for what they want of white visitors! I like her assertiveness!

I ponder for a second and say ‘Sure’. It is the least I can give as a thank you for her cooking. The sad irony is we can buy cheap clothes in rich countries because they are made in poor countries by exploited labour. So I give back to a woman living in poor conditions a cheap dress she can’t afford. I am not a do-gooder. It is just a very unfair world.

I hope one day we can eliminate poverty and inequality. Meantime we can make a small difference whenever we can.     

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