nets and ostrich meat.

Yesterday I made a few calls before leaving for the orphanage, in an attempt to round up a few people who wanted to help. The beach was calling their names though, so I went alone. Stopped in Madina and picked up a hammer, nails, and string so I could hang the mosquito nets. When I got to the orphanage, however, Madame Cella had already hung some of the nets. She said the mosquito-eliminating chemicals in the nets was too strong and it was irritating the children's skin. You're actually supposed to dry out the nets before you hang them. She's going to hang them outside to dry and then in a few days I'll be able to hang them. I brought my camcorder with me and so I decided to focus on that, instead of the nets. Travis is going to make a video to play in a few different churches for my fund raiser, so I'm working on getting a full tape to mail him this week. The kids loved being on film. They sang, danced, ate, fought, and played in front of the camera.

I asked Madame Cella more questions about the funding of the orphanage. I did a little research before I went and so I asked her if the OIC Food Program sponsored them at all. She said that they provided them with some basic food stuffs such as the oats for their porridge, but the rest of it came from private donations. I told her I wanted to meet with the owner of the orphanage who is apparently a broadcaster in Accra. She said that she will take me to meet her next Tuesday.

Last night I got dressed up and out to dinner with some of the girls in ISH. I even wore makeup, which I haven't done in 2 months. I attempted to straighten my hair, but it curled within the hour. We went to dinner at Monsoon's, a slightly pricey restaurant in Osu. We had a starter of smoked salmon and caviar, which was delicious. I got calamari for my main course, with the cocktail sauce served in a sea shell. Jesse ordered ostrich meat that had a large ostrich quill poking out of the top. The meat definitely had a game bird taste, but it was delicious. Amanda had venison, which we think was antelope. It tasted like steak, and it was amazing. The presentations at this restaurant were very impressive. I wish I would have had my camera, because I seriously would have taken pictures of our food. It was a fun night, but I'll definitely be eating cheaply for the rest of the week.

A big undertaking.

I went to the orphanage today with 30 mosquito nets, a large tub of powdered milk, and 3 bags of diapers. My friend Jeremy has a car and so he offered to drive me there with all the supplies. This is going to be a huge undertaking. I heard that the Peace and Love orphanage is funded by Orphanage Africa, an organization here in Ghana that is apparently very well funded. However when I asked Madame Cella if that was true, she said that they are no longer funded by them. I emailed Orphanage Africa themselves (and plan to visit their office if I get no response), to find out for sure if they are being funded. Orphanages are sketchy things sometimes. It's sad to say it...but they are literally businesses. Somebody is making money somewhere. Before I start the ball rolling on the fund raiser I am going to find out about all of these funding issues. I talked to Madame Cella today and walked around the orphanage with her. She said they also are in need of books. Some of the items are expensive. Even in the warehouse market store I went to today, the diapers and powdered milk were very expensive. One (very large) can of the powdered milk was 26 cedis. I want to find out how long that one can will last them so I can get a better idea. Jeremy said his mom is always willing to help with orphanages, and his dad works for the UN so he may be of some use too. I told Jeremy I would give him money for gas if he would be willing to help me get supplies to the orphanage all semester. He refused the money, saying that he wanted to help out.

I have a hard time understanding some things. International students come here and volunteer at the orphanages all the time. They play with the kids and take tons of pictures to show everyone how they "helped" the kids in Africa when they get home. But no one does anything further. I'm not saying that volunteering for a few months isn't significant, but it's just not enough. These kids need more than a temporary playmate. They need structure. They need a family. They need clothes, shoes, books, toys, and food. They need someone to actually DO something. The Peace and Love orphanage is home to 75 children. It's a pretty safe bet to say that only 1-2 of them will be adopted before they get old enough to move out. And the ones that do get adopted will be the babies. Something has to be done about this and I can't sit by watching this happen without doing anything.

I'll keep you updated on the fundraiser. Like I said, I need to find out more about the funding first. What will probably happen for the fund raiser is I will have people mail checks (even if you can only afford $5 or so) to my mom's house. She will then tally up the total and deposit the money in my account. I will purchase all the items that the orphanages need and post the cost for all of the items so that people will know exactly what their money went to.

I've had a lot of emails from people ready and willing to back me up on this, so I think it will be very successful. I'll post another blog once I get more info!

preliminary stages.

Before I left for Butre this weekend, I went back to the orphanage. I had initially planned to bring about 35 mosquito nets and begin the huge task of installing them all, but unfortunately everyone who said they would help ended up having other things they needed to do. So instead I went to the market in Madina to get some diapers and powdered milk, because those are the items the head madame said they needed. It was quite an ordeal wandering through the busy market with a backpack, which is a target for thieves (although I made sure there was nothing important in it). I finally found some diapers, milk, and soap to stock them up for a little while. I will need much more though. These kids need toys too. They need a lot actually. So I'm working on this little project to make sure that they get the things they need. It's still in the preliminary stages, but I hope to give it a violent shove into phase two over the next couple of weeks. I'm organizing a fund-raiser to help them get the things they need. I will also be visiting the other orphanages in the area as well. I might even end up setting up a website to help them advertise, since they have only had one child adopted in the last 5 years. That's a pretty startling statistic, and it definitely needs to be changed.

Anyway, had a lovely Easter break relaxing in Butre. It's the last weekend trip for a while. The next few weekends will be spent working on the orphanage project.

Ada Foah

This weekend, a few friends and I decided to take off to Ada Foah for a relaxing time on the beach. Austin, Kindy, and Jonas left early Friday morning; but Will and I decided to leave a little later. Let me start by saying that Will and I had no idea where we were going. We knew the village was called Ada Foah and it was about 2 hours away. So we got on a trotro to Accra and then walked through the busy market to the other trotro station. We found the trotro to Ada and made the slightly uncomfortable, bumpy ride to the village. When we got off the trotro, we were no where near an ocean, so far as we could tell. So we began walking through the village asking people if they knew where the Estuary Beach Camp was. The people there spoke minimal English and no Twi, which is the language I have been studying; so communication was a little difficult. We finally found the ocean, only we did not see the beach camp. We knew that the camp was east of the village so we just started walking in the opposite direction of the slowly setting sun. After walking at least one mile on the sand, and about 5 miles total, we found the camp. Austin, Kindy, and Jonas were sprawled out of hammocks, soaking up the sun and enjoying the breeze the peninsula offered. The entire weekend consisted of hammock napping, lagoon swimming, and more hammock napping. It was, in one word, marvelous. Saturday night we saw a bonfire at a neighboring beach camp and so we decided to check it out. There were children from the local village dancing to live traditional music in front of the massive bonfire. The performance was outstanding. At night we slept in straw huts that sat in the sand. The beds were surprisingly comfortable and they all had mosquito nets. The bathroom situation, however, was a different story. I walked past all the huts and found the "toilet" which was made of wood and built in a pyramid shape with a hole in the top. There were dead fish in the hole and flies everywhere. I opted to just find my own bathroom. I am officially ready for a hardcore wilderness camping trip when I get back in the states. We left the camp around noon on Sunday and rather surprisingly we found a trotro heading to Accra immediately. We climbed on board the 15 passenger van and as we progressed through the village the driver stopped and picked up more people. Before we made it out of the village there were 20 people, a baby, and a goat all piled on the trotro. Yes, I said there was a goat on the trotro. It made for a rather interesting ride, to say the least. Now I'm back in Legon, wishing I were laying on a hammock in Ada. I'm actually leaving here in a few to head back to the Peace and Love orphanage. I'm going to see how many beds are there so I can bring in mosquito nets later in the week. I also just want to go play with the kids. Well, I better go!

snail mail

Here's my address in case anyone would like to send me snail mail (in which case I would consider you way cool!):

Kimberly Foli
PMB L4
Legon, Ghana
West Africa

Wish me luck on my first Twi test tonight!

Why I'm here.

The following is taken straight from my mass email. So if you read the email, then don't bother reading this blog:

Alright, so I attempted to update my blog (for the second time today), and it got erased when I submitted it. Therefore, due to my allowed minimal daily intake of internet frustration...I'm just going to update you guys through email. I'll deal with the blog later.

Last week, on Thursday, I was walking to my room when I ran into a couple girls I know. They mentioned that they were going to an orphanage and asked me if I wanted to go too. I've worked in orphanages before in Belize, so I immediately aggreed and hopped on the trotro with them. When the orphanage came into view, teenage girls rushed outside giving us excited hugs and asking millions of questions. When we got inside the orphanage, children of all ages were milling around everywhere laughing and smiling at us. I saw a beautiful 9 month old baby and nearly had an Angelina Jolie moment. I wish I could have adopted all of those children.

I met an 8 year-old girl named Mameya (spelling?). She gave me a tour of the orphanage. The power was out at the time, so she held my hand as she guided me down the dark hallway. "This is my bed," she said as she pointed to one of many top bunks. I made a note to myself that there were no mosquito nets. Malaria is one of the biggest killers of people, especially children, in West Africa. I met a girl a few weeks ago who is a Fullbright scholar here at Legon. She started a privately-funded, non-profit organization that distributes mosquito nets to people in Ghana. She gave our ISEP group about 200 nets to disperse in the villages. I'm going to find out the number of beds in the orphanage and then install nets above all of them.

As I walked around with Mameya, I asked her if she has always lived at the orphange. She nodded. I then asked her if she knows her family. She nodded again. But when I asked her if they ever came to visit her, she shook her head and looked away as if she no longer wanted to discuss it. At this, I decided not to pry anymore. Instead I told her that I was an orphan like her when I was a baby. A slight smile appeared at the corners of her lips and her eyes lit up. Fortunately for me, I was adopted as a baby and never had to go through the things these kids do. Michelle, another exchange student, was talking to another girl. She asked the 10 year-old if she had always lived there. The girl said that she used to live at home with her parents. When Michelle asked her why she did not live with them anymore, the child ran her hand across her neck. "Some people came in and killed them one night, so I was brought here," she said. Michelle could not help but to break down into tears. It's pretty safe to say that all of those kids have a similar story to tell. Unfortunately, due to a complete lack of advertising, this orphanage has only had one child adopted in the last five years. During my next three months here, I hope to change that. I'm going to visit the other orphanages in the surrounding area and see what the conditions are like. I want to find out how they are funded and if they have websites. For the ones that do not have websites, myself and a few other people are going to make one. There is no reason why these kids should be growing up barefoot in a dirty orphanage in Africa while there are childless couples in America spending beaucoup dollars seeing fertility specialists. I'm glad I went there. I finally feel like I came here for a reason.

Over the weekend we went to Kumasi and visited some kente cloth weaving villages, as well as wood-carving villages. The people at these villages were very pushy, as they do not see oburoni's but twice a year. To them, a white person is a dollar sign. When I stepped off the bus, I had men grabbing my arms and trying to pull me in different directions, urging me to go to their shop. We also went to the Kumasi market, which is the largest market in all of West Africa. A labyrinth of shops twisted through the market, while busy Ghanains pushed through the crowds of people. This old man walked up to me holding a lone, high heel shoe. "You buy this! You buy this!" he said. I chuckled as he followed me through the market trying to convince me that I needed this dirty blue high heeled shoe. Finally I said, "Why on earth would I buy your single shoe?" At this, he dropped to the ground and place the shoe up against my foot. "It is good!" he said. "Buy it." It wasn't but five minutes later that we stumbled upon a random dance party in the middle of the street. Somehow I wound up being pushed into the middle of it, with Ghanaian men dancing around me. After a day of being hassled, I was not in the mood. Like an adrenalin-pumped mother, I pushed the men away and decided to head back to the bus. I wouldn't lose sleep if someone told me that I could never go back to the Kumasi market again. In fact, I would be thrilled to death. Not my cup-of-tea. The orphanage was definitely the highlight of my week.

I'm feeling sick again. I've decided that since I spend so much time with my toilet, he deserves a name. From here on out, my toilet is dubbed Herman. We might as well be on a first name basis.

That is all. Pictures coming shortly. = )

-Kimber

"Three for one!"

Funniest proposal of the week:

Setting: The Erata hotel pool...

I'm laying out on a pool chair soaking up the sun and relaxing since I've been sick all week. This 50-something man walks up and tells me I'm beautiful (bla bla bla...), then he asks if he can have me for his wife. Will says, "Umm Excuse me, she is my fiance." The man then replies, "Well that's ok. I have 13 other wives and I will pay you 100 cedis for her." The sad part is that he was being dead serious. I'm pretty sure he wasn't all there, or drunk...or both. Will said, "100 cedis? That's not enough. Maybe for 300 cedis." Jonas (a German exchange student) then decided to get in on the bidding action. "Really Will? 100 Cedis...dat is a lot of money!" he said in his thick German accent. My promised husband then said, "Well sir, I will trade you 3 of my wives for her. Trust me they are all pretty, even more beautiful than her." "Only 3 of your wives? Maybe for 6 wives because they are probably all old," replied Will. "Oh nooo they are all young, 17 and 18 years old," he said. "I will come back Tuesday for her and will bring you the women."


Tell also had the opportunity to be my husband at the beach yesterday after a man walked up to me and asked me for a condom. I just looked at him and told him to get a life. I mean really..."Hey can I have a condom so I can rape you?" I don't get it...

For the sake of my mother...you have no need to worry. There are plenty of strange forward men here with no filtration systems when it comes to speaking to women, but I am never alone and don't go to any sketchy places.

I tried Indian food last night for the first time. It probably wasn't the best choice for my weak stomach, but I've been feeling a little better and everyone wanted Indian food. I really liked it! It wasn't at all what I thought it would be.

Today I went to church with Tell and his Ghanaian roommate, Jeremy. After church we all went to Jeremy's parents house where we were fed delicious homemade Ghanaian food by his mom. She was so sweet. His dad works for the UN and has traveled to almost every country in Africa as well as many other places around the world. He had many interesting stories to tell. I wanted to ask so many questions but I let Tell and him do all the talking. Women are supposed to play a more reserved role than what my journalistic tendencies usually lean toward. When I was sitting in church today, after communion, I leaned in and told Tell that I totally forgot to pay attention to which hand I used to take the communion. In Ghana it is considered very offensive to use your left hand for anything. I hope I didn't take the bread and wine with my left hand, because I'm sure if I did the reverend was probably really upset. We ran into that problem one night at a restaurant when one of the international students handed the clerk the receipt with her left hand before walking off. He told us in a very angry tone that we need to inform our friend that using your left hand in Ghana is not allowed. Another cultural taboo is giving someone a thumbs-up. That is translated as a sexual slur against someone's mother. Also if you wave goodbye to someone the same way that you do in America, you are actually telling that person to come closer to you. I remember that being the same in Central America as well. A lot of things to remember. I'm just glad that I'm right-handed or else I might find Ghana a lot less pleasant.

That's about it for now. Hope everyone is having fun freezing to death in America!