There once was a spider the size of a yo-yo

This is a long one!

First off, for those of you who don’t know, you can become a follower to this blog so that you can see whenever I put up a new post rather than just randomly checking it. If you look of to the right all you have to do is click follow.

So my drive to and from work is something that annoys me but at the same time relaxes me. It gives me time to think and absorb all of the things that I am trying to accomplish and all of the things I need to overcome.

Last night I had the joy of lying in my bed staring at a spider the size of a yo-yo sitting on my wall. I kept asking myself if I wanted it to still be there in the morning or if I wanted it to be gone…..but where could it go? I have no crack under my door….there are no open windows…... I woke up this morning and the spider was no where to be found…..excellent

I continue to learn new ways to make life a little easier out here: #1) Sleep in my bathing suit- I sweat a lot less and the little I do sweat is not soaking into a cotton shirt. #2 Side braid for the front part of my hair prevents the sweat from pasting it to my forehead and prevents the wind from driving in a tro-tro to turning it into a giant knot

My brain has been at capacity the past two days. I have enough work to last me the next 7 years…..and Auntie Helena again offered me a fulltime job and position on their board for her NGO…..I told her I had to finish school first : )

I had my first day at the office today and my desk consisted of Auntie Helena and I sitting across from each other sharing the same desk. I will tell you more about all this another time- for now:

Auntie Helena and I keep talking about all the plans we have and things she wants me to get done and I am excited. But with the excitement comes this overwhelming feeling. What have I gotten myself into? I am into something way bigger than me and I have the occasional doubts of whether or not I can handle it and if I am even qualified enough to do so (well-I know I am not qualified enough to do so)

Helena told me that Social Welfare is behind us, that this home is going to be a model for group homes (foster homes) all over Ghana. This is the first home of its kind and they are already making plans to continue it throughout Ghana. They want to get rid of all orphanages in Ghana but until funds are raised we are supposed to start going around Ghana training people in orphanages to improve the care of their children.

I am supposed to come up with a timeline for this home and all the steps we believe that we need to take to get to a final product. This includes the emotional transition of all of the kids that would be moved into these homes and what training I believe their house parents would need (there we go with those qualifications again). So YES I am excited but then I sit back and I think about it. $50,000 to cover one home……for 4 years……and they want thousands of homes……forever….and the government isn’t yet interested in funding…….how is this going to work?

And so despite the excitement there is the feeling that people have tried and failed throughout time trying to fix Africa and pumping aid into countries; so how is this going to be different? Yes, I believe that I will be able to make a difference in the lives of at least these 6 boys living in this foster home but I get paralyzed thinking about what is to come. I find it hard to wrap my mind around the concept of changing Ghana.

On a separate but similar note; Helena told me about some Americans who had come to give her a presentation on orphanages and that studies show that after a certain point of living in an orphanage your brain actually begins to shrink. -–Speechless—

But even through all this craziness and the thoughts and ideas that jumble my mind I remember why I started it all in the first place.

On our drive home tonight Helena and I were talking and let me tell you—she is a saint. The amount that she cares for others and the things in her life she has given up and the children she has taken as her own amazes me.

She was telling me stories about the kids at Osu Children’s Home when she was the supervisor. She used to take 100 children at a time to visit her home village just so they could know what it felt like to travel. They would share two rooms (all 100 of them). She would hold a fufu-cooking contest every New Years Day and throw them a giant party. She would take them to her mothers cocoa farm every March 6th and they would play and then sleep under the cocoa trees. And she went on and on and on. She was the supervisor of the orphanage for over 16 years; they were her own children.

And then we talked about Victor. For the first time I heard about his death. I knew that it was his liver and that he had died and I had heard bits and pieces from the kids but they didn’t know much and they wouldn’t talk about what they did know. But Helena sat and went through that day detail-by-detail explaining what had happened and I was able to sit there and just cry.

I don’t know how she does it. Victor is not the first of her children at Osu to die. He is one of many, yet she continues to give her whole heart no matter how many times it gets broken. I aspire to have her strength.

I love Ghana, I love it so much but it does not make it any easier to live here it just allows me to endure the hard things that come along with living here.