Still Alive Mom

Haven't posted in a while due to not being on the internet. So sorry if I worried anyone.

Last weekend, twelve of us went to a tiny village about an hour outside of Asenemaso. We went to see a more tribal envionment, but it was really just a very, very small farming village with about five mud huts and some other buildings. The little community had no idea we were coming so it was a surprise attack on the innocent people who have never seen obrunis before. The chief and his councilmen greated us formally and offered us a place to sleep in their shed, as long as we had no problem sleeping next to chickens. Of course we accepted their hospitality and rolled out our mats and set up our mosquito nets if we had them. I'm very thankful for my bug hut, even though it looks like I'm high maitenance. Regardless, it kept me protected from the man-eating bugs. There wasn't much to do in the village, but try to communicate with the natives. All the children were malnourised, had swollen bellies and were covered in dirt. Some young farmers showed me all their crops. Their biggest money-maker is cocoa, but it actually stinks before it is processed into chocolate. When we left the chief, who was drunk at the time off of palm alcohol, gave us some veggies and a live chicken we were forced to accept and put in the car with us on the ride home. Although the gift was ridiculous, it showed how hospitable and willing to give these people were. A chicken, especially a cock, provides them with food, meat and money, and they readily gave it us, no questions asked.

Teaching this week has been great! Lion King is finished and gone, so now we're reading The Boxcar Children. This is actually a chapter book so it's easier to stop and go. The level is perfect for the students to comprehend, yet still learn new vocabulary. I actually feel like Lorna and I are getting through to these kids! They're responding, using the words we teach them and getting excited about the lessons. After class, one day, one of the girls Veronica was repeating all the affirmations we tell them at the beginning of each class. She knew all of them! It's reassuring to know they are absorbing what we preach. I know most of the kids names now and their different personalities. Outside of class is the best time to talk to them, however, because I can better discern their humor, their cliques and their real-life behaviour.

Blake and I have done another HIV class, and we've gotten a postitive response from the Junior High School class. This past Wednesday we talked about rape, gender differences, mutual consent and reviewed the basics. The first class we held, the kids initially told us that no one has sex before marraige, but this last time they told us the exact opposite. When explaining gender differences, Blake and I asked them what men versus women are called when they are sexually promiscuous. I can't pronounce what the men were, something like Knawke (equivalent of a pimp), but they all cheered so loudly when Blake repeated it back to them. Sluts would be called Jezebels, but they said that under their breath. Ghana is clearly a male dominated society, and it takes more than a couple of white kids teaching an HIV class to change that.

The best part of the day has to be tutoring in the Manyhea library. Kids from four different schools show up there so it gets pretty crowded. But this is where I get to spend more one on one time with students. Kids from my class in Asenemaso started showing up too, which I love. I go to the library every day for two hours, and then we close up shop around five o'clock. As we leave to go home, a parade of kids starts to form. It's a little more than a mile walk to get home, but it takes almost 45 minutes because I'm so weighed down by kids anxious to hold my hand or bag and walk by my side. Even though I feel like I'm on display, like I do at every moment of the day, it's so fun. They all try to teach me Twi and ask me questions about America or absolutely anything else they can think of. On the way back there's a sugar cane field where you can chop a piece of the cane off with a machete and start chewing on it. It's as common to see someone chewing sugar cane as it is to see a person smacking gum in the states. The kiddos end up walking me all the way home, up till my front door. I then reassure them that I will see them tommorrow as they eagerly pester me to come inside. I love reading, talking and walking with them, but if I let them inside, the house would collapse.

We're not doing anything terribly exciting this weekend, just going to a monkey sanctuary. On Sunday I'll go to a Catholic church I was invited to by some older friends I've made. I've also been invited to go to a Pentacostal church, where they speak tongues. As freaky as that sounds, I want to try and see that but I might not have enough time. Next weekend we'll go to Mole to see the elephant reservation.