Preparation Time!

This was written July 3, although I'll be posting it...some time when I have internet access.  Indefinitely in the future.

Hello!

Today was fascinating .  We spent the morning at a traditional tribal ceremony, and the afternoon at the hospital where we'll be doing research.

We took our bus out to a small village.  Driving here is an adventure.  Many of the roads are approximately as smooth as the average theme park ride, as they're either dirt or covered in so many potholes that they might as well be dirt, and, with people crammed five to a row, there's quite a bit of bouncing around and landing in each other's laps.  On top of that, the streets here are terribly disorganized, with cars turning every which way with little regard to the rules of the road and people darting across the streets with baskets on their heads.   I definitely wouldn't want to drive in a place like this, but I haven't seen an accident yet.

The tribal ceremony was unlike anything I've seen in my life.  We were there to meet with the deputy chief about whether or not we were permitted to work in the villages in the area.  He's of the royal family of the Ashanti tribe, although I forget the name of the village.  There were about five men, all wearing traditional clothing--brightly patterned cloth pulled over one shoulder.  They sat on chairs, and we sat across from them.  The deputy chief spoke only to a linguist, who translated his statements from Twi (the local language) into English for our benefit.  However, he also spoke to the deputy chief whenever anyone else, including Twi speakers, was addressing him.  He generally seemed to be the go-between.  They negotiated about what we would do for the village in order to get the privilege of working there--he wanted a computer lab, but our "chief" (the head doctor running our program, who strongly resembles Dumbledore), pointed out that we were helping improve the health and water and sanitation programs in the area, and that our work would directly benefit them.  They then held a reception for all of the students with cans of coke (it seems to be quite popular here, and, fortunately, is safe to drink, unlike the tap water.  I always worry that people will serve us some kind of homemade drink that we'll have to figure out how to refuse in a culturally polite way.)  There were a few small kids running around who looked shocked to see white people--they pointed and giggled and got so excited when we waved at them.  One boy, probably three or four years old, was wandering around trying to shake all of the visitors' hands.

We took a wild ride back, then went to the hospital.  The main road was closed, so it took a while for us to get around to the right place.  We finally ended up where we were supposed to be, then had to find the right clinic.  The hospital was...different.  Much of the space where people were was outside--there weren't any halls, but each of the clinic doors opened out to the open air.  It was terribly dirty outside, and although we didn't go into any of the exam rooms, but just met in a classroom, I can't imagine the inside being sanitary, let alone sterile.  We passed a phlebotomy lab and my hands instinctively went to the crooks of my elbows as if to protect them--I couldn't imagine letting someone stick me with a needle in a place like that.  However, the doctors who we met seemed excellent.  They were knowledgeable and kind and seemed to really want the best for their patients.  It just felt like the hospital was so over capacity that it wasn't able to function as well as it should.

We then wandered around our area for a while--we walked over to a nearby school and watched a group of kids do soccer drills, then toured up and down the street.  We saw lots of stalls, selling everything from fruit to shoes to tailoring.

We then had a meeting for our entire group.  We debriefed from the past few days, then went around discussing something that was expected, unexpected, and made us uncomfortable.  It was interesting to hear everyone's perspectives.  Oh, and we got big news!  We're invited to the wedding of one of the doctors in the hospital on Saturday.  Apparently it's not terribly uncommon here to invite thirty strangers to your wedding five days before the event occurs.  I'll let you know how that goes, as it's certain to be exciting.

Some other funny things--yesterday, one of the student's doorknobs fell off when they tried to open it, and another's sink fell off the wall.  And we currently have no water.  Not no hot water, but no water.  Period.  Fortunately, we have plenty in bottles, so we're just out of luck for showering.  That's our adventure of the day.

Thanks for reading!

Research Training

Hello!

Ok, so the Internet here is currently quite spotty.  I’ll have to see when I can actually post this, as service goes in and out on a whim (I sent three messages to a friend at 9:40 PM, and the third one didn't go through.  Then it went on again at 9:46, and off again 9:50.  But how wonderful is modern technology?  I can make immediate contact with a friend who literally is halfway around the world to giggle over the guy she likes.)  

Today was our first full day in Kumasi, where we'll be staying most of the time we're here.  We woke up and ate breakfast provided by the hotel (featuring fresh pineapple juice, which was delicious,) then met with our groups to go over our projects.  Our program is pairing with students at the local Ghanaian medical school, so we'll be working with quite a mix of students.  I wasn't able to get all of their names, but the African contingent included a very quiet girl named Priscilla, a man named Michael in his last year of medical school, and a cheerful Ophelia, who drastically contrasts with Shakespeare's character.  

Our group is studying barriers and facilitators to craniofacial care.  In layman's terms, we're learning about what what is easy and difficult about accessing healthcare for children with facial, oral, and nasal deformities.  We're focusing primarily on cleft lips and palates (if you've ever seen the TV commercials for Smile Train, it's the same issue that they fix.  I also once read a book that discussed cleft palates which I believe was called Words In The Dust, but I can't verify the title due to the lack of ability to google.  But if that is the title, I loved it around age 13.  Literary review over.)  Our group led by Chelsea, a PhD candidate in speech pathology who is one of the most enthusiastic people I've ever met.  She can talk for hours about speech development, accents, public health, her home in New York, her fellowship in Ohio, or her various mission trips to train other speech pathologists and work with people who have had recent cleft surgery.  She's one of those people who makes everything seem really interesting, regardless of whether or not it's something you normally care about, just because of the intensity of her passion.  I admire that.  

We'll be interviewing caregivers of the children with these conditions, so today we trained in proper interview techniques, and how to avoid asking leading questions.  It's actually a lot more difficult than you would expect, just because you come in with so many of your own biases that it's difficult to filter them out of your speech.  We also practiced avoiding technical terms, because a lot of the caregivers, especially from rural areas, won't have the same vocabulary that we do.  

After our training, we went to the mall!  I'm usually not at all a shopper, and only bought one thing, but it was fascinating.  It was across the street from an outdoor market full of stalls that likely required a bit of haggling to come to a price. The mall itself provided a great contrast--a huge concrete building that would not look at all out of place in the US.  A group of us ambled around, including Andrea, a geography doctoral candidate interested in mapping illness patterns and designing maps that can be used by colorblind people (she likes maps a lot) who tells us that she takes her four-year-old to class with her; Uoni, a Persian-Armenian pharmacy student who grew up about forty minutes from me in California; and Rachel, a career-change medical student from the Bay Area who talked extensively with me about the culture shock of moving from California to Utah ("but I love Salt Lake," she told me, "it's the right place for me."  I agreed).   

We first went to the grocery store there--Rachel was still jet-lagged and wanted to buy coffee, and foreign grocery stores are fascinating to wander, as they provide a snapshot of local life.  There wasn't a drastic difference between most American grocery stores, although there was an incredible amount of rice, in many different varieties.  Most of the food here seems to be grain-heavy, with a sauce and a bit of meat.  

I have a peculiar small world story.  Being 19, Mormon, and living in Utah, I have quite a few friends who either recently returned from Mormon missions or are heading out in a few months to a few years.  I know someone who went to Kumasi, Ghana and returned before school started last fall.  In the grocery store, I ran into...Mormon missionaries.  I asked them if they knew my friend, Elder Lastname, who came home last year, and they said yes.  It was one of the oddest coincidences, to find a mutual friend in Sub-Saharan Africa.  

In the middle of the mall, they were playing music from a huge speaker.  It was a very odd mix of songs, everything from Drake ("God's Plan") to what I assumed was pop music in Twi (the local language). A group of little kids had assembled in front of the speaker to dance.  They were quite talented, and had the biggest smiles.  Some of the dances seemed to be common, as everyone was coordinated in their motions, but others were just a free expression of twirling joy.  

In the mall, we were quite popular.  Families would stop and look at us passing, and one asked us to pose for a photo with their young children.  Andrea was standing across the room at that point, so she took a photo of them taking a photo.  I'll see if I can get it from her to post on here, as it was hilarious.  Even though we stand out, it doesn't feel as uncomfortable as it would if  we were back home.  It's clear that we don't really belong here, but it's a good kind of standing out.  We have to opportunity to get lost in the wonder of being able to experience a culture that in no way belongs to us.  

Our last stop at the mall was the fabric store.  It was gorgeous--stacks of dozens of elaborately colorful prints that you could picture clothing someone in joy.  Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take photos in the store.  Most of us--myself included--purchased a few yards to get made into skirts or dresses at the local tailor shop.  The array of hues in that store was dramatic--I've never seen anything quite like it.  

Anyway, that's all for tonight.  I'll post this whenever we get internet access again.  

Ghana Arrival!

Hello!

I'm officially in Ghana!  We flew in to Accra last night, and have spent most of the day traveling to Kumasi, where we'll be for the next few weeks.  And tonight I took a shower with real shampoo and soap (I haven't figured out how the hot water works yet--or even if we have any--so it was refreshing, as well), so I feel wonderful.

The flight here wasn't bad--I sat next to a Ghanaian-Norwegian computer programmer who writes health tracking apps.  He was raised in Ghana, but had moved to Norway as an adult, but was returning to take a short course and visit relatives.  But if you ever want to see an incredibly conspicuous group, look at a group of University of Utah study abroad students headed towards Ghana.  You could definitely pick us out of the crowd.

Flying into Accra looked like flying into any other city at night--a field of darkness peppered with spots of yellow and white lights.

We got off the plane, passports and vaccine certificates in hand, and waited.  And waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Fortunately, I have a very fun group, so it wasn't terribly unpleasant to wait in line for about four hours, even if we had just gotten off an international flight and were terribly exhausted.  We passed through a body-temperature sensor (if you were worried, I officially don't have Ebola), flashed our vaccine cards at the inspector (I don't have yellow fever either), pressed fingerprints, had our passports inspected, and finally were free to get our baggage.

We all found ours, and we were off.  We drove for about two hours to the Ensign College of Public Health, which is run by the U of U, and stayed overnight in the dorms.  They had a shower!  My bags were on the bus, so I had no shampoo, but washed my hair with a bar of soap.  It felt wonderful (but looked less so).

We ate breakfast the next morning, and were off.  The bus ride from Ensign College to Kumasi can take between 5 and 10 hours on a mix of dirt and paved roads, but it took about 6 and a half hours for us.  There was little traffic, because it was a Sunday, and, although it rained, we were lucky enough to only have it rain on the paved parts of the road, so we weren't slowed down much by mud.  It's pouring now, though, and not likely to let up until tomorrow.

The drive was fascinating.  Ghana is gorgeous--I don't think that I've ever been in a place this lush.  When you glance off the road, all you can see is miles and miles of green.  And the sky is beautiful as well--layers and layers of fluffy clouds.  It's so different from the US.  I drifted off for a bit on the bus ride, and when I woke up, I briefly did a very sharp double take, until I remembered where I was.

Things have very odd names here.  I passed Denmark Farms, Korea Rice, New Orleans Music and Talent School, and Staten Island Farms (I wasn't aware that either Denmark or Staten Island were known for farming, but it's possible.  I haven't been to either).  There are animals everywhere, mostly goats, but a few dogs, chickens, and a handful of cows.

We also passed a group of about 8 young boys--probably 6-11--all wearing suits and carrying musical instruments, including trombones, trumpets, and drums. I assumed they were going to church, as religion seems quite prevalent here (quite a few businesses have religiously themed names, including God is Able Carpenter Shop and Jesus Loves Fresh Pork), and it was Sunday morning.

Driving through Ghana is drastically different than in the US.  For the most part, we were on paved roads, but at one point we hit a series of potholes so deep that our bus was tilted about twenty degrees.  Whenever we're at stoplights, people come up to our bus windows and try to sell us a wide variety of goods, including mangoes and toilet paper.  We didn't buy anything.

The dress here is interesting--a mixture of Western and traditional, and definitely more formal than you find in the US (although that could be because of the religiosity of the nation.  I'm guessing a lot of people were headed to church).  The women typically wear short-sleeve, empire waist, knee length dresses made of brightly patterned fabric, while the men wear shirts out of the same bright patterns and slacks.

And my favorite thing was driving past the little kids.  Anyone under about the age of 10 would, upon seeing the bus, outright stare for about 4 seconds, mouth slightly open.  Then they would start to wave, and when we waved back, wave their arms back and forth with incredible enthusiasm.  They would then alert any other kids around them, point at us, and start yelling.  They presumably don't get a ton of white people here.  It was hilarious.

Ghana is probably one of the culturally farthest places that I've ever been from the LA suburb where I grew up, or Salt Lake City, where I live now (geographically farthest as well).  I've never lived anywhere with dirt roads or goats roaming the streets.  But one of the things that strikes me is how similar people are.  Looking out the bus windows, I saw pregnant women with hands clasped over their swollen bellies, groups of men gathered to watch the World Cup Game, two elementary school boys appearing to have a contest as to who could pee the farthest, a young teen with an infant sibling or cousin perched on her hip, an adolescent girl who would shyly raise her eyes towards a group of guys, then quickly smile and avert her gaze.  I'm half a world away from home, yet people are mostly the same.

That's all for tonight.  It's so wonderful here.  The real work starts tomorrow--we have all of our preparatory research meetings and meet the Ghanaians that we are partnering with, and we spend Tuesday at the hospital.  I'm so excited!  And the internet actually works well enough to post some photos, so enjoy!

Amsterdam! (Well, the Airport Anyway)

Hello!  I'm in Amsterdam for the time being (well, the airport anyway), at least until my connecting flight leaves in about four hours.  And, because there's not a ton to do in the airport for six hours, I'm going to talk to you, instead!  Please excuse any typos--I've only slept about 4 hours (on an airplane) in the past 36.  Because of this and the swirl of foreign languages surrounding me, everything feels vaguely like a dream.  If I took my glasses off, everything would look like I had recently entered an Impressionist painting, and the sensation would be complete.

My flight here was pretty easy--I read, slept, and spent quite a bit of time with my eyes closed trying to pretend that I was asleep.  Oh, and people-watched everyone wandering up and down the aisles, as it's quite difficult to sit for 10 hours.  My favorites were ten-month old twins, little boys with heads of thick blonde hair--one curly and one straight, big smiles, and mesmerizing blue eyes.

What I know of Amsterdam is wonderful.  I love the Dutch language--written, it looks sort of like English, with extra letters added for fun (I'm sure that this statement betrays a deep misunderstanding of linguistics). And spoken it sounds like a gentler version of German.  I just googled it, and apparently it's roughly halfway between English and German, so my misunderstanding of linguistics is shallower than I assumed.  Also, I learned that they speak Dutch in Suriname.  There's your random fact of the day.

This airport is really cool.  They have a miniature museum!  It's one of those children's science museums, where you learn about light refractions through tilting mirrors and oscillations through pendulums that you can move yourself.  And they have a DNA-based play structure, which I thought was really cool for antsy children (honestly, I sort of want to try it, but I'm a bit big).

They have a piano!  That anyone can play!  The Amsterdam airport gets some really good pianists too--I heard someone playing the Moonlight Sonata, all the way through, and someone else playing something that sounded like Rachmaninoff, but I didn't recognize the piece.  They also have a library, with a bunch of titles in Dutch (and a handful in English).

Wandering around, I saw a sign for a "meditation room," and, curious, I wandered in.  It was an interfaith chapel, with space for people of all faiths.  Walking in, there was a shelf with Muslim prayer rugs, as well as a chart of when the calls to prayer will occur during the month of June.  And on the shelf, they had religious texts in 47 languages (I counted, because that's what you do when you have six hours to kill in a foreign airport).  Everything was there, from Thai to Luganda to Norwegian (the books were all labeled).  It was very peaceful, and I tried to talk to the lady manning the room, but there was a bit of a language barrier.  I don't know any Dutch, unless I wanted to try and sound out the "Only Use In Case of Emergencies" label on the alarmed door, but that wasn't quite the message I was going for.  But I think that she understood that I appreciated the space.  

Anyway, that's all I have to report.  I promise that things will get more interesting once I actually arrive in Ghana.  Love you all!

LAX-->SLC-->AMS-->ACC

Hello!

I am currently en route to Ghana.  The very beginning of en route--I'm sitting in the Salt Lake Airport, waiting for them to call for boarding.  I have three flights today--LA to Salt Lake City, Salt Lake to Amsterdam (where we'll technically arrive at 9 AM tomorrow morning) and Amsterdam to Accra, Ghana.  And then we'll drive to Kumasi, the city where we'll be doing research.

There's a bunch of different groups in the program--I'm with the craniofacial team, studying cleft palate treatment.  We're interviewing parents and caregivers of children with cleft palates and other facial anomalies, asking them about their barriers to finding treatment.  Then hopefully we'll be able to interpret the results and make treatment more accessible!  Other teams include dermatology, antibiotic resistance, and maternal nutrition.

I'm very excited.  A little bit terrified, but it's ok.  It's just a heightened version of how I tend to be all the time.  And exhausted, because I had to leave my house at 4:30 this morning to make it to the airport in LA.  Hopefully I'll be able to sleep on the plane.

I'm armed with the necessities--multiple copies of my boarding passes, a passport with the Ghana visa that I had to apply for back in April, my "International Certificate of Vaccine Prophylaxis" (which you get when you get vaccinated for yellow fever.  So if any of you had plans to infect me with yellow fever, you won't be able to.  However, I think it's quite unlikely that any of you are bioterrorists, so I'm safe).

I've met some interesting people so far, wandering around the airport for the past few hours--a former lobbyist going back to school to be a hospital Child Life Specialist, a girl my age going to visit a foreign exchange student in Germany, a family going on a family history trip (only in Utah), and a young mother from Baghdad wearing a shirt with text entirely in German (I asked her what it said, and she had no idea).  Her daughter was lovely too--she was around four, and told me all about why Belle was her favorite Disney Princess.

Anyway, I'm about to board my plane.  I promise this will get more exciting when I actually do something besides sit in an airport.  As for now, I'm off to read articles from the PanAfrican Medical Journal about cleft palates.  I'll write again soon!