Well actually it was a clinic, but far more dramatic the first way no?
Up until now I strongly opposed the idea of going to a clinic/the hospital for medical treatment. I get sick kind of often, but my body always manages the fight it off. I think I have had the flu three times while being in Ghana (every time
someone suggested it might be malaria - but it wasn't), and I have never once gone to the hospital...
I think there is a tendency to freak out about things here, which is definitely justified, but I am still against running to the hospital for a sore throat or headache. I guess I realized that I might not be taking things quite as seriously as I should this weekend. A friend of ours was diagnosed with typhoid, or malaria... not quite sure why they can't figure out which of the two it is, but this is the result provided
by the doctor. Hmm, see, in the latter case (malaria), it can be attributed to causes outside of our prevention (I mean aside from the anti-malarials and the disgusting amounts of bug spray...), but the former... now that is scary. Typhoid, as I have found out by reading way too much info on disease this weekend, is spread through sharing food, water, unsanitary conditions etc. Now this is a massive challenge as we quite frequently have no water, which makes being extremely clean
extremely difficult.
Anyway, that isn't why I went to the clinic, but I must recount the absolute adventure I had this morning...
I have to start out by saying I was pretty nervous about the whole thing, so I actually asked my friend to accompany me. She works at the Ministry of Health and had recommended a clinic across from the ministry that all of the civil servants use. So, we arrive and pay 2,000 (20 cents) for a health card, and sit down in what I later found out was a queue. My friend had to leave briefly so I remain sat on a bench at the back, wondering how sick the people around me actually were... needless to say, I got pretty freaked out thinking about all of the possible diseases I was probably exposing myself to. That probably sounds like an overreaction, but to give you a little context: employees at a 3/4 star hotel in Accra are tested every six months for TB, people test positive all the time! So back to my adventure... a nurse came to the front of the waiting area and began chatting away in Twi. I considered asking a woman in front of me what was happening, but I refrained, and just watched instead. Luckily I made the right choice, as I later realized that the nurse was conducting a pseudo-service; she looked at me and said: "we are praying." Hmm, okay. At this point, I still hadn't realized I was in a queue, and I think about 5 people ended up in front of me. Thankfully my friend returned and insisted I go to the spot I should have been in. My first stop was to see the nurse, who took my blood pressure, weighed me, and listened to my heart. She also asked if my friend (blonde, British) was my mother or my sister. I told her she was my sister. Hilarious. Then I was instructed to join another queue, this one was for the doctor. I should probably mention that I was the only obruni (aside from my friend) seeking medical attention... I am sure I looked hilarious, as I had a backpack and a plastic bag with weetabix in it (for munching on at work). This line moved quite quickly, although there were a few delays, including a small boy who was (as I overheard it and cringed) 'infectious,' so he was obviously bumped up in the line. Finally I get into see the doctor, who asks me what is wrong, and I explain to her about my stomach problem. She immediately goes to start prescribing meds, (as I had been warned) but I explained to her I needed a test, as I had taken Cipro (a very common drug prescribed for travellers) and it hadn't worked. She (and the nurse) laughed at me, explaining drugs that worked in Canada do not work in Ghana. I spared myself from trying to protest, as she agreed to let me have a test. While I was waiting by the door that was marked 'laboratory,' I was amazed by the way in which people just curled up for a nap on the benches. The lights kept on going on and off, and the fact that there was no running water in the bathroom made me incredibly squemish, especially because it seems like an obvious way to
prevent a lot of the diseases they were probably treating. But I guess these things are out of their control, as certain areas in Accra tend to be subject to low water pressure (my office and house for instance), so we often go without water for several days. It is just a shame that the clinic hasn't taken alternative measures like getting a tank... Anyway, after my test I took the result back to the doctor, who totally was entertained by me, and I am pretty sure she thought I was just a small girl, so she was quite smile-y and nice. Her reaction to my results (which I think were not quite what she expected) made me a bit nervous, especially as she said I should come back to see her on Wednesday... In any case she prescribed me a few things (which I googled immediately) and we'll see how things go! All in all, with the test, consult, meds and card fee, I paid 72,000 cedis (about 7.50 USD). Not too bad I guess.
Naureen's 'pre-birthday' surprise - notice how she is using tupperware for bowls, that's right, we're a classy bunch.
The cake. It may look sketch, but it was a hit. We covered it with jam because the M and M's we put in the cake batter made it turn an unsightly green - turned out to be an excellent choice though!
Ajit, Naureen, me 
25 big ones
Pre-kindergarden, Kindergarden 1 and Kindergarden 2 classroom at the Liberian Refuge Camp in Accra, Ghana
There isn't enough space for all of the grades to have a separate classroom, so they use these dividers. You really can't get a sense of the size of the space, but it is tiny, and about 35-40 kids sit on each side, with teachers for two grades attempting to co-exist...
Desks donated by UNHCR
Baboons at Shai Hills
Makes it easier when you miss your monkey brothers... ahaha jokes.
