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
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
2 comments:
thanks for sharing. i have been following you since your first article in the east tennessean (in a totally non-creepy way, i assure you!)
if you need any help working on a site, let me know. i'd be glad to help where i can.
Those kids are too adorable.
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