Lasting Impressions

There are many incredible images stockpiling in my memory that I want to begin putting into writing. They are powerful, moving and still pictures and feelings from Ghana that will stay with me forever. Some are not so favorable, most are exquisite, all pretty exotic.
• The light glinting off Dezmond as he takes his cold shower just before bed (his new nightly routine). The power is off so he shows me by the light of a small battery operated light how the water splashing off his hands make it look like he is Spiderman shooting out his webs. • Watching Riley perfect his front crawl, a stroke that I have only given him the odd bit of advice on. He swims around the perimeter of the pool slowly turning on his side to breathe, relaxed, kicking, his whole body staying on the surface, powering forward with his muscular upper body and strong kick, moving athletically yet with grace doing all the things I have been trying to do for years. No one told him to do it; I just noticed him trying it one day and encouraged his efforts. He loves it and it seems to come so naturally.

• The ghostly, silent noise the fans make as they come to an ominous stop when the power goes out during the day.
• The view I have walking to the kids’ school along the canal, of the Cathedral steeple in the distance surrounded by palm trees and other tropical greenery against a perfect blue sky & the view I have when I look just a bit lower and see all of the garbage in the open sewer which is what the canal actually is.

The games the kids’ come up with as they play with each other and their friends who live below us, creating kings and queens out of sticks and sarongs, a make believe world of people who live under the shrubs, are made out of rocks and have homes decorated with found objects like single earrings and pieces of glass. The kids playing cross dressing with each other and the friends they have made; Riley, Dezmond and their Ghanaian friend Jim looking like beautiful young girls and Lilianna, Josephine, with their Ghanaian friends Sessi, and Christy-Anna looking like very cool dudes. Playing Drip Drip Drop (Duck Duck Goose with water), Red Light Green Light, Truth or Dare, school and house.

• The girl who cleans/does laundry for me once a week, speaks virtually no English, and often carries her baby on her back as she cleans. This week she stops in the middle of dusting our bookshelf, completely fascinated with one of the kids’ books on Dinosaurs. Her baby is hungry and tired and irritable, but it does not matter, she is completely engrossed.
• Watching my girls grow stronger, wiser, independent and more beautiful every day, while still holding on to their charming youth and innocence.

• Long, lithe, muscular, naked little bodies as they get ready for bed each night.
• Bedtime stories on the balcony.
• The young woman with her baby, who sits in the shade of her wooden table/shelf where she sells fruit near the busy ring road on the sewer canal. Every day we walk past her in the exhaust and heat, but she always has a big smile and hello for us, which never fails to brighten my day.
• Kokrobite: the laid back rastafari beach we hang out at whenever we have the opportunity.

• The cultural performances at Alliance Francais. A highlight last week was a show from Toulouse, France. It was a fascinating dance piece that had a girl and a guy playing off each other physically and emotionally. It was completely mesmerizing for the full hour using dance, song, circus, playing with rhythm and light while telling a very personal story which was different for each person in the audience. I was transported to another world and inspired by the art of it. It was wonderful to watch such innovative Art performed in an intimate outdoor amphitheatre with a cold beer in hand surrounded by Terry, the kids and a large mixed crowd of expats and Ghanaians.
• The kindness of so many people here:
Siham
The director of Scholars International who was full of support and understanding when I told her I would pull the kids from her school to go to Merton International. She had done so much for us in letting the kids’ go to her school for 2 weeks at a discounted price. She had begun a renovation of her school which I think was a result of our kids going to the school and possibly with the assumption that more money would be coming as the kids continued in the final term of the year. She also fired a teacher who had been problematic with the girls (see my next blog for more on this). She said she was happy that we were happy.
Rosamond
Who lives across the road from us and charged only $2.75 to braid the girls’ hair with extensions, which took her and another girl together 2 and ½ hours.

Cynthia, Maggie, Eunice & George (photo below, from the right, w/o George)
The landlords who live in our compound: Cynthia is studying to become a seamstress and altered a dress for Josie for free. Eunice has brought over bananas, a flashlight (for when the power goes out), and ground corn and corn flour with which she taught me how to make breakfast cereal. Maggie gave us curtains and Eunice brought them over with a hammer and nails. George has had a stroke but always says hello with a big smile.

Henry (next to Terry)
He is the artist who lives below us and any time we need advice about the neighborhood or how to take a trotro anywhere, where to find a bank, pay a bill or fix my cell phone. He is always there for us and if we need last minute child care we can usually count on him or his family to help.

Anna Hughton
Sight unseen, she invites us to dinner our first Saturday after arriving in Accra. She continues to invite us for meals and to meet her other friends and family. She also has given us a microwave to use, pillow cases, towels, pots, pans, and dishes. She let’s us use her “driver” when needed and we know she is always a phone call away if we need anything. She is extremely kind and friendly with Terry, myself and the kids, a very good friend here in Accra.
Aunty Baby
The local grocer lady who keeps us in cold beer and who helped us when a stranger followed us home from the market one day hoping to get money from us.

Ghana Stories #4: Street Vendors

I promised this for my second blog entry. Sorry it is coming so late.
I want to describe the street culture as roads become parking lots at traffic lights all times of the day here in Accra due to the incredible traffic congestion. Standing in the heat, dust and exhaust at each major intersection are dozens of young men and mostly women, some carrying babies on their backs, most carrying heavy loads in bowls or boxes on their heads. They make their living day-in and day-out selling to motorists often running to catch up and give them their change or make their sale, constantly calling out in nasel voices, “Nice Plantain Chips”, or “Pure Water” or whatever it is they happen to be selling. It is dangerous as they constantly dodge traffic in a city/country where pedestrians have no rights. I will give you the list below of what we have seen for sale in the street so far. I have been writing them down as I see them so I swear to you that they are all truly sold in the street. It is amazing.
I don’t know how they do it, on their feet all day, money in one hand, the product they are selling in both hands, balancing the supply on their heads, some even dressed in tight jeans and long sleeves. It is a legitimate profession and not considered begging. Compared to our world at home, there is so little convenience here in Africa, but I would venture to say that this is one of the top conveniences in Accra. Instead of stopping somewhere on the way home from work, people simply get what they need as they sit in traffic. It is brought right to your window and they always have change. It is a service and they are often treated with the kind of respect or lack there of which servers receive in restaurants, but without the tipping. I don’t know how they are paid but hope it is more then just commission (I know part of it is commission because the are very eager to sell and come to your window simply if you look at them or point out what they are selling). Our very favorite item for sale in the street and the thing we buy from tro tros and taxi trips is the plantain chips. They are to die for. I gave up potato chips in Canada long ago, but I simply cannot resist the plantain chips here.
Here is a list of what we have seen for sale so far:
• 500 ml cold pure water sachets
• Bottles of drinkable yogurt
• Chocolate, strawberry and banana milk
• Trays of menthol mints, gum, etc.
• Baked goods, donuts and muffins
• Pringles
• Grapes
• Apples
• White or brown loaves of bread
• Eggs
• Bananas
• Sugar cane
• Popcorn
• Ice cube trays and dust pans
• Sunglasses
• Binoculars
• Fitted Sheets
• Sleeping pillows
• Watches
• Men’s fancy leather shoes
• Weed feed
• Tooth picks
• Leather wallets and cell phone holders
• Towels, cloths, sweat hankies and rags
• Framed wall hanging pictures
• Globe of the world
• Large maps to put on your wall
• Cell phone cards which buy more time for your cell phone
• Tools and electric drills
• Weigh scales
• Brief cases, knapsacks, computer cases and suitcases
• CD’s and pirated DVD’s
• Cowboy hats
• Toilet paper
• Leather belts
• Cell phone car chargers
• Flannel sheets/blankets
• Laundry brushes
• Brushes and other hair paraphanalia
• Pencil and CD and DVD cases • Calenders
• Decorative pillows
• Paper/document holders and plastic snap closed folders
• Toy airplanes and trucks
• Sling shots
• Blow up penguins
• Boys t-shirts and soccer shirts
• Kids shoes
• Soccer balls
• Cuff links
• Broaches
• Aprons
• Electric hand held massage gadgets
• Head phones and TV top antennas
• Super glue/crazy glue
• Kleenex
• Clothes Hangers
• Hand fans
• Exercise equipment gadgets like a “tummy trimmer”
• Booster cables
• Disposable shavers
• Men’s golf shirts
• Ice cream (it is stored in cardboard sitting on their heads 3 feet high and it miraculously stays frozen – I am stumped by this)
• Books like a popular one called “Chasing Elephants”
• Bike tires and pumps
• Pens and highlighters
• Flags (small on a stick)
• Flags (large for your wall)
• Walking canes
• Clocks
• Luggage tags
• Grab bag of toiletries and sewing kit items
• Air fresheners
• Laundry baskets and wash tubs
• Paint brushes
• “Shino” cleaner

And now for the top 3:
• Passports
• Polio immunization kits for kids
• Of course……..Plantain Chips

Sadly there is also some begging for money. Often it is someone walking with a blind person in the busy traffic going from window to window, sometimes it is children. There are also parapyligic people dragging their legs along with crutches and then worst of all are those pulling themselves along on a large sort of skateboard. We see all these off the streets as well, but it seems particularly sad seeing them in traffic.

So that’s it for now, if I see anything else, I will add it to a future blog.
Bye For Now
XOXO

Ghana Stories #3: The Ghanaian Passion in Holy Week

We got to experience Palm Sunday as it was meant to be.
We travelled on Friday March 26th (the kids last day of school in their temporary school called “Scholars International”) to a town in the hills northeast of Accra called Koforidua. It was a beautiful drive up and down a mountain with lush green jungle, beautiful views and peace from the incessant honking of horns in the city.
We stayed at another VSO’s house along with 10 fellow volunteers from north, south, east & west Ghana, sharing floor space, beds and couches. Aiden was our gracious host, letting the six of us use his room with ensuite bath, and telling us what to see and do in town. We did lot’s of walking, explored the market and spent the afternoon at the “Hotel Pool”, while the other volunteers bought supplies for dinner.
We all came together for Happy Hour at the local “Spot” for beers, Fanta and popcorn, then headed to the immense house to prep our feast. The house is normally used by 4 volunteers at a time, but currently only has Aiden. It also has the good karma of all its past volunteers including homey touches like nice curtains and local artwork. Better yet, it has a fabulous mini library with some great Canadian authors, many current titles and even a couple of good books for Lilianna and Josephine (whose voracious reading is impossible to keep up with).
What an amazing feast we had that night!!! Everyone worked together washing and chopping fresh tomato, garlic and avocado (my kids took care of this), plus okra, carrot, cabbage, garden eggs (a mini yellow eggplant), lettuce and scotch bonnet hot peppers. The vision for the meal was devised as we went along collectively with a few choice items already in mind like guacamole to go with the plantain chips and pakora headed up by Vina - a UK volunteer with Indian heritage.
The men mainly did the chicken on Aiden’s half barrel Bar-B-Que, although I am proud to say that Terry deep fried the Pakora, which was divine. It got polished off as we continued to chop and peel. There was lot’s of cold beer, Fanta and good conversation which led to a gourmet meal which was topped off with a fruit salad (papaya, mango, pineapple and banana), then games played in a circle around the living room.
It was a really nice evening, which made me feel all the more thankful for our wee commune of 6 Coyes-Loiselle. These volunteers have only each other for family while working here in Ghana, getting together every few weeks or months on occasions like this. Terry and I feel very fortunate to always have each other and the four kids as we make our way here in this world of riches and poverty, despair and joy.
The next day, Palm Sunday, we arrived at St. Dominics Parrish without palms, expecting to find a table at the back of the church with young lime green palm branches that we pick up sedately and bring to our pews. Instead we arrived in Jerusalem with everyone having brought palms from trees in their backyards or the roadside. Some were big, some small, some braided, some weaved, some with flowers attached like bougainvillea, all festive. Mass began outside upon the arrival of the procession of dancing, singing, palm waving Ghanaians with a loud celebratory brass band accompanied by base and snare drums, which beat out African rhythms to match the joyous trumpet and trombone.
Everyone was laughing and cheering, waving their sweat rags as they danced to the exciting pulse in the music. We did not have to imagine Jesus arriving on a donkey; he was there with us as we eventually made our way into the Church after the opening blessing, sweat dripping from all pores. There was no room in the regular pews, so we went on a balcony that ran the length of the church. It was perfect up there under the fans where we got to see all the action from above. The mass felt a bit like a wedding reception with children young and old socializing, singing, dancing, and praying in and outside of the church throughout mass, wearing their best dresses and dress cloths for boys. Music plays a huge role in the Ghanaian Mass. I don’t know the significance of it yet, but all the masses seem to have specific rows of women wearing matching sarongs, blouses, head scarves and jewelry. Perhaps they are nuns? One group will take up two to three pews on one side of the church and another group in a different matching costume will take up a different set of pews.
On Palm Sunday, we got to witness one particularly lively group of ladies all in blue and white with matching peals and sweat rags. Traditionally the song for the gifts is especially energetic. On Palm Sunday at St. Dominics, we were treated to the brass band and drums again, whose sound echoed throughout the church filling it with thunderous, celebratory music. They played a sort of call and answer between the trumpet and trombone to the constant beat of the drum, very African, as opposed to what you would normally think of a brass or marching band. Then the congregation joined in singing and I would not have believed this could happen, but the people singing actually drowned out the musicians. It was breathtaking and powerful, even Dad had tears in his eyes, not just Mom, as the kids were quick to observe. It was all the more potent because everyone processed to the altar with a donation for the basket dancing forwards, backwards, sideways, circling, clapping with big smiles, playing off each other singing and moved by the music. It was pure sunshine and it still maintained the essence of prayer. It never felt over the top or “Uncatholic” in the worship. Our spirits were raised high in spite of the lows that we relived in the gospel reading.
Holy week progressed. Terry travelled over 12 hours by bus to Tamale, a city in northern Ghana for 2 days of meetings. So the kids and I decided to treat ourselves to a couple of beach days at Big Milly’s, the bungalow at Kokrobite Beach (on the outskirts of Accra) that we had stayed in weeks before. Terry joined us there early Holy Thursday and we got home that evening in time for Terry and I to go on our first date in Ghana. The kids spent the evening with the neighbor kids who live below us, watching TV, which never happens anymore outside of our Friday movie nights with the projector and laptop that we brought along. Interestingly, at the end of the night, they all said it was boring just sitting there watching TV for 2 hours. Terry and I went to the Canadian High Commission for their monthly BBQ/social. The beer was cold, the burgers and free popcorn were amazing, and it was nice to meet some other Canadian expats and find out what everyone does here in Accra.
On Good Friday, we went to the 3:00 PM service arriving at 2:15 PM in order to get a pew. We sat in the front pew in order to follow everything easier. I was wearing a white shirt to stay cool knowing the mass would be very long and hot. Every once in a while we run into Ghanaian culture faux pas and today was one of those days, where we managed 2. We walked in and everyone was wearing black or very dark colors, so not only did we stick out with our white skin, but also our light colored apparel. Then we realized that we were sitting in a pew normally reserved for the readers. They were very subtle in their handling of it, very kind in fact. They did not disturb us, but quietly brought in extra chairs for the readers to sit in front of us.
Once again, we were treated to amazing music. The gospel was particularly moving as the choir sang all the parts in the gospel that are normally spoken by crowds. So we were got to hear “Barrabas! Barrabas!” and “Crucify him! Crucify him” for example sung solemnly in artistically arranged, moving 3 to 5 part harmonies. I find it difficult to decipher the harmonies here because they are so intricate and well blended that sometimes although I know there is harmony, it comes across as unison. The veneration of the cross must have lasted at least 45 minutes as each person spent extended moments praying and meditating with Jesus at the cross. There was moving music throughout and it was very poignant. After over 3 hours at Church on Good Friday, we decided not to do the Easter Vigil and instead watched Franco Zephrelli’s (sp) Jesus of Nazareth with the kids on Friday and Saturday nights on our big white wall. It was a great choice as the kids (the boys in particular) had many questions answered or clarified for them and it made Jesus’ passion so much more real as it closely and dramatically followed the gospels from his birth to his death. It also brought about more questions, which made for some wonderful Easter weekend discussions in our little apartment.
We awoke Sunday morning to discover that, much to our delight, the Easter Bunny found us here in Accra! The kids hunted for FanIce (ice cream/popsicle packs), Fantas, Ghanaian chocolate, suckers, gum and malt balls. We also each got souvenirs from Kokrobite beach (Big Milly’s): dresses for the girls, patchwork shorts for the boys, and local pottery coffee mugs for Mom and Dad. We went to Mass where it was packed out with C&E’s just like in Canada and the choir treated us to Handel’s Alleluia Chorus at the end of Mass. Anna (our Ghanaian friend who lived in Edmonton), invited us for an amazing Easter meal at her house. It brought us to the end of a truly blessed Lenten season and Holy Week in Ghana. She had other guests and family there and when people arrived they all greeted each other with “Happy Easter”, “He is truly risen”, “We are blessed”, which is how we as a family felt; how lucky we were to share Easter so intimately with each other and then with a loving family, kind enough to let us share in their love and fellowship.
Happy Easter and happy spring to all our loved ones back home.
XOXO
Annette and the Coyes-Loiselle Crew

School Daze

March 9, 2010

Week #2 of our real life in the apartment in Kokomlemle had some ups and downs and some real life learning for all of us. The goal at the start of the week was to finalize our school plans. We decided to go with De Youngsters as the school of choice for several reasons: it is a ten minute walk, they already know some of the kids and they would get a real taste of school life with the local Ghanaian kids. It also happened to start the soonest as they were willing to give us a discount for starting mid-term.

I went early Tuesday morning to have another look and see about a “mid-term” discount. I arrived at 7:20 AM and the headmaster was not there yet so as I waited for him. I hung out in a little courtyard and watched the students arrive fresh for school. Fresh is a good word for mornings here in Accra; 6:00 to 9:00 AM is a wonderful time. It is cool, quiet and feels efficient, like you can accomplish a great deal in a short while. So I was feeling refreshed and enjoyed watching the students arrive. I met one of the grade one teachers who assured me that the boys would be fine with learning to read in English even though they have only read in French up until now. He said they had a student from France once who was in a similar situation and that he was able to catch up. This teacher said they could work with the boys to help them. All of the teachers I met were kind, intelligent and seemed genuinely happy to be at work as they mingled with each other smiling and joking. It was in the outdoors (all classrooms are cinderblock designed, with exterior air flow and they open out to various outdoor spaces), but it could have been any school staffroom in Edmonton during first assembly of the day. Older kids seemed to be assigned to watching the younger ones until official assembly at 7:30 AM. It was cute to see them take this task on until I saw one of these monitors (who looked about 10) with a stick which he used to discipline one of the kids who was not settling down. This was slightly concerning because when I came in the week before, the headmaster assured me (after I asked him) that there are no “canes, sticks or straps” in their school. They don’t believe in hitting children. So to see a stick seemed odd, but I thought perhaps it was like a game with the kids. I continued to sit and watch as kids filed in, many greeting me with “Hello Madame”.

At 7:30 AM official assembly of the kids begins in the largest space near the grade one classroom and Junior High wing. It was so cute to watch as they lined up with their class groups while a sort of cow bell was wrung, just like in “Little House On the Prairie”. I stood beside Jack, the French teacher and was very happy to hear that they would be taking French classes at this school as well. As I stood practicing my French with him, I saw out of the corner of my eye, a teacher using a stick on the hands of a group of lined up older boys. I immediately switched to English and asked what was happening there. He assured me all was fine and that these were students who live very close to school and were late this morning. I told him of my conversation with the Headmaster in this regard and he was completely non-plused again saying it is really nothing and that this is how they will learn for next time. I looked over at them again and saw that the teacher and students were smiling and he was not in fact hitting them very hard. It seemed jovial almost like a game or a tease. There were too many other good things happening so I didn’t dwell on this for very long.

The Head master then arrived. He is like the King of Kensington. The kids seem to love him. When I first met him the week before, he was sitting in a tiny chair watching a kindergarten class. He is a soft spoken, gentle giant of a man who lumbers around slowly always smiling. He said he could give me a discount or scholarship as they call it and we went to the admission office (it is in a different building from his office for some reason). So I met the ladies there once again and they were friendly, excited to have us join, and said the kids could start school as early as Thursday (without their uniforms which they would hopefully have ready by the following week). I went home and met Evelyn from downstairs whose 2 children play with our kids and attend this school. She told me how it is a very “tight” school meaning that it is competitive for marks and that the students are encouraged to and really want to do well. I knew which way I was leaning and was getting more and more excited with the prospect of De Youngsters. I phoned “Christ The King” (the school I wrote a letter of enquiry to) and found out that they do not have space for kids in the Third Term (May to July). I immediately called Terry to update him and we decided to move quickly. *WARNING: this next section is dry with details only to attempt to give you an idea of the Ghanaian style administration* I went with the kids to De Youngsters in the afternoon to pick up 4 admission forms. She said to come back tomorrow “someone is getting them” as they only have 2 right now. Next morning I went with all the kids again and they still only had 2 forms. They said not to worry I could fill them out the next day (Thursday – first day of school) when I bring the kids (I paid about $4 Canadian for each form). I went to see the Headmaster who I knew had some forms in his office, which he produced, but they were only 1 page instead of 4 pages. We all went back to the admin office, they spoke/argued amongst themselves then said I could use the incomplete forms and they gave me $8 back from the original $16 I paid for the forms. They then showed me the Friday Gym uniform set which would cost me about $5 each (I am continuing to use Canadian currency for ease), but I was out of money and they said no problem, I could pay for those tomorrow. I spoke with the Head Master about the stick I saw at assembly the day before and he seemed to play dumb at first, but eventually owned up to the need for some physical discipline to help teach certain students, but that it would never be used on my children. It was said with smiles, kindness and sincerity, so I decided it must have been a fairly isolated incident and I reminded myself that we chose a Ghanaian school where things are different and I have to be accepting of some of those differences. We left with the Head Master saying he would show us around in the morning if we arrive at 7:30 AM and introduce us to all their classrooms and teachers.

The kids and I went home then all excited for the first day of school. After lunch we headed to “The Mall” even though it was the heat of the day and a long trocho ride away. We needed school supplies like lunch coolers, ice packs, a few groceries to make sandwiches and snacks for their lunch etc. We also had to get 2 Five Hundred gram packs of laundry soap, 2 bars of soap and 2 toilet paper rolls per child (8 of each item, which felt like a lot). We were all still giddy though as we made our way to meet Terry at Alliance Francaise to celebrate. We ate outside, drank beer and fanta in the grass and watched as some performers got ready for a huge art installation and some drummers assembled all their gear. We partook in the Opening of the exhibit (which was a fascinating piece where we walked on sand and lit candles to view it), drank some free Guiness and wine to go with a chicken skewer which was also on offer. We decided to leave early, unfortunately missing the drummers, but we needed to get ready for school. We got the kids to bed and stayed up late filling out admission forms, making lunches and organizing backpacks and water bottles.

Thursday morning arrived and all were excited, but nervous for what the day would bring. We arrived at 7:25 AM feeling just a little self conscious with our big cooler of food for lunches, our 2 big shopping bags of soap and toilet paper and our 4 young white kids with no uniforms. “Auntie Lucie”, the kindergarten teacher helped us right away as the Head Master was not in yet. She said she would care for the cooler, so that the kids had a central place to go for their lunches and the toiletries were left in the Head Master’s office. We waited and waited on a bench they set out for us as the other kids arrived and got ready for assembly. Finally, the assistant Head Master came and tried to help. I had not met him before, which is too bad because he seemed to run the place more then anyone else. He was very friendly and began trying to figure out which classroom they would go into. It was all very haphazard and he asked if we had paid the school fees yet. I said no because no one told us we had to on the first day. I only had money for the “Friday Gym Uniforms” (we can only get about $175 out from an ATM at a time and school fees were going to cost us about $675). They said we could come back in the afternoon with the fees.

Terry had to go so kissed the kids goodbye and went off to work. We scrambled around, but got Lilianna into her class, then I went with the boys to their class. Josie had a death grip on me so I left the boys and went to her class. The boys were with the teacher I had met 2 days before, but he had something wrong with his eyes which were irritated and watering. He was sitting at a desk and another teacher was trying to help him. Off I went anyway and met Josephine’s teacher who was extremely kind and had a wonderful way with the students. He saw her eyeing the stick on his desk though, so he explained to her that “the reason it is a black stick is because it is for the black kids only.” He assured her it would not be used on her. This was again a bit worrisome, but I stayed positive as did Josie who was feeling comfortable enough to be left on her own now. I popped in on Lilianna, who was doing fine in a class with the French teacher, Jack. I went back to the boys’ room waiting for the other grade one teacher to arrive so I could meet her and talk to her about their English reading issue. The original teacher was still sitting at his desk wiping his eyes as all the kids were arriving in the class. It was a huge class and another teacher came to help settle the kids. Riley and Dezmond just watched. Finally the female teacher arrived and I introduced myself. She seemed to think all would be fine with the issue of reading English. I told her she should sit the boys at different desks as they were already bugging each other (the desks are shared tables of two). I kissed them goodbye, went back and kissed Josie, then Lilianna. As I was getting ready to leave the Assistant came to check in with me again, friendly as ever and asked if the girls had taken the “placement exam”. I knew nothing of this, but showed him their progress reports from Holyrood in Edmonton. He was surprised the Head Master had not given them the exam, which is their way of determining which class is most suitable for the girls, since their system of grades could be different from ours. I asked if they could take the exam today, but he never really answered. I decided to leave it in his capable hands. I had to go out and buy material from the market for their school Uniforms plus get to a bank for some money. I knew these tasks would take nearly the whole day.

I had about 10 minutes of enjoyable freedom before all hell broke loose with the day. As I walked home, a young girl stopped me who was selling second hand clothes (carried in a bowl on her head) and I tried on a nice blouse. I bartered but she would not go low enough and I knew I did not need it, so I left. It was fun though and I felt free and independent. I went home then and spoke with Evelyn about where to get the material at the market. She offered to have her “house help” girl, Rita accompany me to the market so that I would not be taken advantage of. Also because it is a massive market which is difficult to navigate (Makola Market is in Centra Accra, difficult to get to and huge). I needed money first so went to 5 ATM’s within a 2 KM radius of where we live and was unable to get money at any of them. The one I knew I could get money at was a taxi ride away, so Rita and I went there first, then to market. The ATM ate my card so it took about 10 to 15 minute before I got my money. The taxi driver charged us extra for the wait and the security guard who helped me asked for a tip as well.

The market was insane. It is like a huge octopus with arms that snake out in all directions. Everything looks the same and the place is packed with people all wanting your money. It is dusty, noisy, frenetic and constantly moving. We tried to get the best price, which took a couple of hours going stall to stall and travelling to different parts of the market. In the end I only saved about $0.50 from the original place we went to. We also found a store which had smaller lunch coolers for the kids (more inconspicuous) and some stepping stools which I had been needing for our apartment. Finally, exhausted disheveled and dusty with the city, we took a taxi home. Rita was a sweetheart (just a young girl saving up to go to University), so I dashed her (tipped her) for her help. I tried one more bank in our area with no luck so decided to offer the School Admin $150, which was all I had. I hoped they would let me pay the rest as I was able to get it.

I went back to the school and checked in on Josephine who had been moved to a smaller class and seemed to be doing great. Then I checked on Lilianna who shoulder shrugged me that things were okay. When I went to the boys’ class Riley was there, but not Dez who was apparently in the bathroom. Riley didn’t even see me he was completely engrossed watching the other kids in the class, which appeared fairly chaotic. I went to look for Dezmond and found him washing his hands with “Auntie Lucie” after having used the bathroom. He started crying as I walked him to class and he wanted go home. He was embarrassed having a teacher help him in the bathroom and his stomach was sore from diarrhea. It killed me, but I told him there is only one hour left and that I had a tough day too, but that we had to do our best on this first day which will be the toughest one until we get more settled into the school. He wanted me to stay, but I had to go to the office and pay fees.

The admin ladies accepted my financial situation and said I could pay the rest as I was able to get it. Phew. I had a receipt for the $150 I paid so far. I then went to our closer smaller market and spent whatever money I had left to get some fruit for the kids to eat after school and so that I would have some for their lunches on Friday. I got back to the school with 5 minutes to spare and watched the boys in their class. Dezmond saw me waiting just outside the class and had a huge grin for me (what a relief). Riley was still completely unaware of my presence. I waited and waited, the school bell rang and other kids were getting out, but the grade ones seemed to be having to finish a writing assignment which the boys were not doing because they did not have a notebook. His teacher asked me about notebooks for the boys. I had no idea what was needed and she said I could get them from the admin office for tomorrow. I assumed that school fees would pay for this and provide them. No one had said anything about this before now, although Josephine said her teacher bought a notebook for her at the beginning of the day. I hoped it could all be cleared up in the admin office next day. As I waited for the boys, I focused on Riley as he took in the chaos around him. It was surreal. I felt like I was watching a movie with noise that faded into the background as the action went to slow motion and the camera slowly zoomed in on Riley who was in his own world watching the fighting/playing/noisy kids around him. He was in a trance and it was clear that his whole day had been like this. My heart broke and tears welled up, but I repeated the mantra in my head that I had been saying all the way back from market, “The first day is the hardest. We have to give it our best effort and see it through. We can’t give up.” I was arming myself with these words to tell the kids after school because I knew they each would have had a tough day. Nothing prepared me for what the kids shared with me though. They were such brave little souls.

I finally went into the boys’ class to retrieve them since they were not doing an assignment anyway. There was no order and the poor teacher was completely burnt out with constantly telling kids to sit down, be quiet, do their work etc. I finally counted heads and came up with nearly 60 kids in the class. The girls found us there and we left the trenches together. As we walked home, the kids had story after story of how the stick was used constantly throughout the day. They each witnessed their fellow students being wacked hard on the hands, shoulders and backs with these sticks or canes as they call them. The boys had headaches because it was noisy in their class all day. At one point they said the teacher was gone for about ½ an hour (6 year old time) and the class became a playground, a zoo. Lilianna was careful in her stories knowing that I was armed with telling her not to give up, to see this thing through, give it a chance. She told of being bored to tears in class, especially in French. She told of the Math teacher not showing up so the French teacher supervised them for 1 & ½ hours while all the other students socialized and Lilianna sat quietly watching, waiting. She told of learning a subject called Creative Art where they write fancy letters using a graph and ruler in a mathematical sort of way, then being quizzed on it (acing the quiz after guessing on the multiple choice answers), she had stories of awful bathrooms, and girls in her class leading her to the boys bathroom then laughing at her. She too had a headache from the constant chatter in the classroom. Josephine said Lili cried when they met at lunch. Josephine told of her teacher stepping out of the class and another teacher coming in and thwacking each student hard with a stick on the back because he could hear their noise from his classroom. He set Josephine aside to watch and she said even the students that were sitting quietly got hit. My couragious little soldiers came home though and while snacking Josephine started her homework right away and Lilianna followed suit as their stories continued and I got more and more upset. I hid this from the kids until Terry got home and then I lost it. I took him out onto the balcony to talk privately and figure out what to do. I felt so stupid. How could I not have seen that they would use those sticks? Why didn’t I wait a full day before buying fabric for their uniforms or paying any money to the administration? What are we going to do? Our money is so tight. We count every penny. Do we simply think of it as a donation to this school and pull them out? Do we see this thing through? There are only 15 school days before a 4 week break between the 2^nd and third terms. Can my kids handle this school for 15 days? Are we being snobs or overly superior? How do the local kids do it? Maybe we should just suck it up. We kept coming back to the reality though that the kids had headaches and it was the longest day of their lives, Lili and the boys in particular. Also, we kept thinking about the fact that we would be spending about $650 for these 15 days of school instruction where I know Lilianna and the boys would learn nothing. Is the cultural experience enough of a learning adventure? Then I saw Josephine and Dezmond playing a game where she would wack him with a stick and he would scream. That pretty much made up my mind. I can’t have our kids witnessing that kind of violence to their fellow students, exasperated by the fact that they are exempt simply because of the color of their skin. After much discussion and going back and forth, Terry and I decided to pull them. I would go the next morning and try to get our money back.

I had crazy dreams all night and my stomach was in knots as I walked to school for 7:30 AM Friday morning. I spoke to the Assistant (the Head Master never did turn up again), and made 2 points: the headmaster told me there were no sticks or canes and there were. My kids came home very upset because of this. The Head Master also told me there would be 30-40 kids per class, not 60. I asked him if I could get my money back because my husband is a volunteer and that kind of money is a big deal for us. He understood my concerns, tried to talk me into staying then spoke to the admin lady to whom I paid my money the day before. I sat on pins and needles as they spoke softly in Twi back and forth. I heard him say something about volunteer. I waited and waited, then he turned and smiled saying the admin lady would give me back my money. I couldn’t help myself, I started crying I was so relieved. He gently took my shoulders saying “it’s okay, don’t be upset, everything is fine”. I thanked him and her profusely, then asked for all my toiletries back, which they also gave me.

I went home and saw Rita, the young girl from downstairs, and told her how we had pulled the kids out. I apologized for all the work she put in to help me the day before and joked that we need to find a school now that has black and white uniforms after all the time, money and effort that went into them. The kids were relieved not to have to go back and we had a great day at home on Friday. I cleaned the apartment while they played, then we homeschooled with some success in math after lunch. The next day, Saturday was the start of our long weekend and we headed to a beach resort just out of the city where we stayed in a bungalow just off the beach and time stood still in this little piece of paradise away from the noisy city. When we got back last night (Monday evening), it felt good to be home, truly home after a holiday. We are adjusting to the noise, heat and daily routines of our little apartment in Accra. The noises of our neighborhood have become normal, like the pre-dawn rooster calls, the incessant sweeping, the constant hum of our fans, the bells, the knocking of wooden carts, the horns, the arguments, the laughter, the Muslim calls to prayer which don’t even wake us up anymore. And there are many things I have come to enjoy and love:

• The lady from the market who gives us free mangoes because she loves Josephine who shares a name with her eldest daughter.
• Our neighbors all around who look out for us, and make sure we feel happy and safe.
• The bird that sings outside my kitchen window every day and sounds just like the first birds of spring in Edmonton.
• Cheers from the local soccer pitch (a field of brown dirt), where skilled games are played every evening as I cook dinner. These games attract so many spectators, it sounds like a stadium of people.
• The sweat that trickles as I cook dinner in our hot sweaty kitchen.
• The absolute joy, relief and celebration when the electricity and water finally come back on.
• Our balcony at night after the kids go to bed, just me, my book and the hammock.
• The breeze, the blessed, blessed, breeze.
• 6:00 AM
• Alliance Francaise
• The hotel, a ten minute walk away which lets us use their pool now for about $7.50 once a week.
• 2^nd hand clothing stalls on every other corner to make up for the clothes we brought which are too clingy.
• Fresh pinapples, mangoes, bananas, Red Red, and Palava. Ice cold Star Beer from Auntie Baby’s shop
• The praise, congratulations and God Bless You’s I get whenever people find out that all four kids are mine.
• The incredible courage of our children as they adapt to this life and thrive while I drag them with me in trochos and to market where they help me carry bags.
• Seeing Terry at the end of his work day and sitting down to dinner where each has a turn to share their story for the day.

We have our challenges, but we manage them. The power goes out every other day and I fear for the food in our fridge. Out longest outage started in the middle of the night and went until 2:00 PM the next day. The water is shut off every once in a while. We are currently heading into our second day with no water. We keep a barrel filled for these occasions. We filter all our drinking water. All fruits and vegetables must be peeled or cooked or soaked in salted water for 20 minutes then rinsed in filtered water. The bugs, ants in particular, have invaded, and I have to put all food into containers or the fridge. All food spoils very quickly in the heat and ants can get into just about anything that is not sealed in a container. Market (a fifteen minute walk) needs to happen every second or third day and I am still not getting the best deals I am sure. The kids hate going to market with me because it takes so long in the heat. It is quicker if I am by myself, because with the kids everyone wants to stop and talk to them, find out their names, their ages, how many are twins etc. They love twins in Ghana! The kids get bored in the hot afternoons when we take shelter from the heat in our apartment and they bicker and fight. Mom and Dad can get on edge at this time of day too. Then the air cools at 4:00 PM, the breeze comes and all is well.

Overall though it is a life we are getting used to and calling our own. We are all enjoying ourselves. One of the boys asked me the other day as we were walking, “Mom, how come you are always smiling here”, I replied, “Because I’m so happy I guess”. Everyone was silent as they pondered this and I think we each felt the same way.

Next time I write, I hope to have the kids enrolled in a school that we all feel good about. I also want to tell you about the things that are sold in the streets as people commute in Accra. The traffic snarls allow for a huge business selling everything you could imagine in the convenience of your car or trocho. Squeegie guys in Toronto got nothing on Accra.

Bye For Now,

Love,

Annette

Week 2: The Reality of It All Sets In

Saturday, February 20, we finally left the hotel for our new digs. We were all very excited to see and settle into our new “home away from home”.

The apartment is spacious, well furnished, bright and in a relatively quiet family neighborhood compared to where we were at the hotel. We are on the second floor with a great view of palm trees and get a daily breeze on the balcony.

It has lots of fans and we live close to a pedestrian walkway beside what I call the canal. It is actually an open sewer with little bridges over it, but we all have very good imaginations for seeing the canals of Venice on these walks and we are becoming proficient at breathing through our mouths. It is actually quite nice because it is an “unofficial pedestrian zone” without traffic and there are plenty of chickens, goats and dogs (which the kids stay away from). We walked along it to get to Church last Sunday. Church here is done in English and Twi so it is 2 hours long. We made up for missing on Sunday the 14th and this Sunday we will make up for Ash Wednesday. Then I guess we only need to go every second week…..just kidding.

We have spent this past week settling into our place. That first Saturday we were lucky to have a dinner invite as we were not even close to being set up yet. The woman who hosted us is Ghanaian and her name is Anna. WE LOVE ANNA!!!!!!! We are so blessed to have her as our friend. She is a physiotherapist who worked in Edmonton with a Mom, Audrey, from Holyrood whose son has play dates with our boys. Sight unseen she responded to an e-mail I sent her the night before we left, inviting us to stay at her place if we need to and then Saturday’s dinner invite. She lives far from us, but picked us up, fed us an amazing meal, then dropped us off with lots of leftovers. She is easy to get along with and has been immensely helpful as we get on our feet here. She picked us up on Sunday in order to take us to the mall to get groceries and supplies. Then she got her hired driver to pick us up after he dropped her at work, so that he could take us to the market and accompany us for some good bargaining, then he took us shopping for more household items. She has also supplied us with an extra single bed so that Riley and Dez don’t have to share a single bed, some extra dishes, a huge fry pan, a microwave, towels and pillow cases. She is away this weekend, but has talked of taking us to the beach next weekend. What an amazingly kind and generous woman. There is no awkwardness only good intentions. We met her niece at dinner last Saturday and this niece was studying in Edmonton having only recently returned. Now talk about a small world, she recognized me from a Bikram Yoga class last October. WOW. Another coincidence is that in this huge city, we are living in an apartment about 2 blocks from the home Anna grew up in. Her parents have passed away (her mother only last year) and she now rents out the house. She has a young man named Hameed looking after it while she looks for renters. She has tasked him with looking out for us, which he has been doing with things like finding us an electrician to fix 2 of our fans, finding us someone to help with laundry and cleaning (a story in itself), and tomorrow he will walk with me and the kids to a store that sells toasters in our price range, and to the station where we can fill our propane tanks (we have a propane stove top).

We are learning how to live in this strange new world. Terry has been at work all week and I have been cleaning out more dust then I ever thought possible…..thus the hired help. Hameed’s girlfriend Abigail came for 3 hours yesterday. I had her wipe down all the windows (there are 8 slats of glass that remain open always protected from the wind and dust only by a screen), doors and light switches, while I swept and washed the floors of all the rooms, banged all the cushions on our furniture, swept underneath the cushions and wiped with a rag. You can imagine all the wiping down I have been doing in cupboards, shelves and closets. Yesterday me and the kids had a stay home day and got it finished, even wiping down the balcony floor and furniture. During all the cleaning, the kids have kept busy with games, reading (Josie has become the new bookworm of the family), journal writing and playing with the local kids. We have had to stop inviting the local kids in as the landlords don’t like it. It is a difficult dilemma, because you invite 3 inside and there are 20 yelling up to the balcony creating havoc on our street. Once our kids are in school we will have to pick and choose their friends based on who they can trust the most and whose company they enjoy the most. It is so hard though. I had to turn a young girl away today who I know was sweet and had a baby on her back, but we have to respect the law of our apartment mates who I know are giving us sensible advice.

Speaking of schools, we have now checked out 4 schools and have narrowed it down to two. It is a difficult decision. One is a 10 minute walk over the canal from us and is far more affordable. Many of their new friends in the neighborhood attend this school. Hard to tell how good the education would be, but it would be the experience of a lifetime. The other school is still within our budget although much more expensive. They would have to travel through busy traffic each day to get there, but it is Catholic with a Church on site (we will go to this Church on Sunday this week), and clearly a higher standard of education. Both schools are filled with Ghanaians, but from 2 different worlds, lower class versus middle class. The Catholic School would start in May and the local one would begin as soon as we are ready with a month of holidays in April. Both schools’ terms finish at the end of July, then the new school year resumes in September. I have written a letter to the headmistress (a nun) at the Catholic School asking permission to enter. We may be refused or they may not have space for us until Sept, so we might end up having no choice in the matter. Now that the house is clean though, I want to get into the habit (until they are in school) of leaving the house with the kids when Terry goes to work to run errands like the market, the grocery store or just general exploring, then come home in the heat of the day for journal writing, French and maybe eventually Math (I’m not prepared yet for Math).

One of the schools I checked out is a Swiss German small international school very close to us. They have a playground and a café, which welcomes visitors like us. I had a good talk with the administrator early Tuesday morning and she mentioned that they are looking for volunteer Kindergarten teachers. They would pay for your accommodation if you made your own way here. Anyone interested????? She got me thinking about opportunities and I am going to see if they want to hire me to teach a Drama class in their next term to help cover our expenses. I won’t get my hopes up, but it might be a nice in for a place to hang out and do my writing once he kids are in school.

So here we are nearing the end of our first real week in Accra feeling extremely blessed. The kids are amazing at adapting, more than I ever imagined. They just go with the Ghanaian flow. Their toughest moments have been car sick rides in various modes of transport, our first night in the apartment (mosquito nets that were like heated tents with no air circulation and were sprayed with poison which got on their skin and burned). I was the only one to get any sleep that night with the heat. All have diarrhea but me. I am actually fairly regular surprise surprise (I think I was meant to be in the tropics). Time sometimes stands still here in Ghana, but although I thought this would bother me, it seems to wash over us all. The kids and I sat in a warm vehicle waiting for Hameed to find Abigail parked on a busy street in central Accra for about ½ an hour after having driven ½ an hour to get to this place that without traffic would have taken 10 minutes to drive to. But we were all lost in thought watching the world go by taken by the Ghanaian transcendence of time. They control time here, it does not control them and we are finding our way within this.

We allow ourselves special treats because we are in a big noisy smelly city. We have found a hotel across from the Swiss School with a pool we can use (for a cost – can’t make it a habit), we made it to the Alliance Francaise Cultural Center last Wednesday where we saw an amazing performance of dance, singing and drumming from a group from Burkina Faso (the country north of us). They have performances from various groups every Wednesday evening plus an artist exhibiting their work (we have an artist living below us, Henry who will have a show in May. Dezmond and Riley had a sneak preview of his work today and said it is amazing). Terry and I have cold beers each night on our balconey. It is the only drink I really crave besides water. It goes well with the sweet bananas. We hope to get away as many weekends as we can. We will stay close to home this weekend, but will go to the “tourist beach” for the day on Saturday. Can’t wait. I think I get to join some of the VSO gals for a girls only wine tasting on Saturday night – lucky me. The kids really appreciate the little things here like cereal (cornflakes and bran flakes – the only ones affordable for us), cucumbers and sandwiches, which they were so sick of at home, now they can’t get enough of them. They loved setting up their rooms. We have wonderful talks when we walk. Soccer is the God of all sports here. The kids are rock stars in the neighborhood (not sure if this is a good thing, but for now it boosts their ego). Each of the kids is quietly finding their way (with a few ear pulls and discipline here and there – the heat can make everyone a little stir crazy at times). I was in heaven today when we found a street of “Greenhouses”. I bought 3 small tropical plants, 2 that flower purple and orange. I managed to bargain about $5 Canadian for 3 plants, 3 broken pots, and 2 bags of dirt for our balcony. The kids were as excited as I was. Mirrors, shelves, baskets and tables have so much value to us here. I am so glad I threw in a small photo album, felts, paper, tape, and scissors.

Our First Week Feb. 13 - 20, 2010

So where to start……..

Life here is moment to moment, in the street and with an easy pace to match the weather. The humidity is so beautiful along with the people, the palm trees and the sweetest mangoes I have ever tasted. As Terry said, we were spoiled that first week at the hotel with all our meals cooked for us and a pool to jump into to keep cool. I became Dezmond’s swimming teacher and by week’s end he was able to keep up with the other kids in the pool, even swimming and jumping into the deep end unassisted.

One of the VSO volunteers from India got me then to teach her the Breast stroke (quite hilarious, me a swim instructor, hee, hee). I did manage to improve my stroke though. I have decided that hotel pools are definitely the right size for my style of swimming.

Our first Sunday (Feb 14) was overcast which was a blessing and it allowed us to leave “the compound”/the hotel and venture on a tro tro (public transport here – rickety old, run down mini vans) to central Accra for an eye opening look at the beach the locals use downtown. Everywhere we went people smiled and practiced their English on us. A group of beautiful young girls (one carrying her baby nephew on her back) engaged with us and toured us through a shanty town which led to their beach. Since it was our first day, we were unsure whether or not we could trust these girls in this extremely unfamiliar and dodgy part of town. A young man joined the girls and tried to entice us into a little bar where they have “drumming and dancing lessons” for Canadians and Americans. We went with our gut instincts following the girls, leaving him behind. The girls then informed us that he was a “thief” and to stay away from him. We never felt threatened, but it was good to have this experience early on to remind us to remain aware.. All our subsequent experiences with locals have been nothing but positive, proving that what the books say about safety and friendly welcome in Ghana/Accra is true. The beach was packed with locals, cows, horses, goats, and garbage. In spite of this it was a beautiful sight. They were all so happy to be there each in their own way. These were the shanty dwellers and we stood out like sore thumbs. We thanked the girls and found our own way back, happy to get a taxi back to the hotel for some air con and pool action.

We had amazing Ghanaian food paid for by VSO while we stayed at the hotel. It was always a buffet with many choices some western, but mostly some spicy local cuisine – yummy.

Our week at the hotel also consisted of language lessons with Terry, which was great. The locals love it when we practice our Twi on them. Lilianna especially gets the smiles. Josephine was super proficient at writing all our new language down. Besides the pool, Terry and I managed to do some early morning runs which were a great way to explore and get a workout. The humidity makes it nice, so that the heat is bearable to run in………….it helps too that I love to sweat. Got lost a couple times coming very close to having to grab a taxi after 1 hour of running, but managed to find my way back by asking many people for directions. One thing about Ghanaians we have learned is that they don’t like to admit that they don’t know something and they have no concept of distance, so you can get many different answers when asking for directions.

Our Journey Begins

I am writing this on March 24^th one day shy of the six weeks since our Journey began. Truly though our Journey began on a beach somewhere in Thailand as Terry and I mused that some day if and hopefully when we have children, we would like to take a similar year off to travel, but to try and set down roots in one place. That was in 1996 and over the years as we had our children, we began to talk of going to work and live in a developing country.

We realized how important it would be for us and our children to learn the value of what we have and be able to discern between needs and wants in our attempt to become better global citizens, educating ourselves in a place completely foreign to the world we know in Canada.

Then in the fall of 2007, I was blessed to be able to work on the play Rabbit Hole at ATP in Calgary. We picked up our family and lived in a wee bungalow in Hilhurst, near Kensington where all four kids shared 1 bedroom and we used our camping dishes along with borrowed odds and ends like a microwave from Katelyn, a kitchen table and chairs from Vanessa, a bed from Kevin, a TV from Lyle and Heather etc. - all supportive, generous family and friends.

We loved our time in Calgary! It opened up a whole new world for the kids and we spent more time together as a family away from the usual hustle and bustle. One day we were driving towards Bragg Creek, looking at the monstrous homes in some of the new developments. They were beautiful, but living in our little love shack, we saw all too clearly how unnecessary it was to work towards buying the perfect home or the dream car or the biggest and latest in plasma TV’s. Terry and I made a pact then and there that we would work towards our dream trip instead and set a departure deadline of either September 2009 or January 2010.

We came pretty close to our goal by leaving on February 11, 2010. The morning was a flurry of activity. We needed to leave town by 2:00 PM in order to get to the Calgary airport by 5:00 for a 7:30 PM flight. All of mine and the kids’ things were packed, and our closets emptied to make room for Katelyn, so I thought it would be easy to wash sheets and towels and get the house cleaned. I even treated myself to a run that morning before the kids got up. The kids were beside themselves with excitement and Terry had a lot of packing and finishing of odds and ends with his work.

Time disappeared as we had Skype calls from Greg and Dave Coyes, then Papa Coyes over for lunch and finally a last farewell to Rhea, Sebastien and Georgia. Many smiles and happy tears later we were in the rental van late by ½ an hour with the vacuum literally in the middle of the living room, the belt having come off (the one thing I was unable to finish cleaning for Katelyn – among other things like unorganized crumby cupboards and closets).I love the start of journeys!!! We were finally on our way after weeks and weeks of 18 hour days working through every detail of our journey while we were finishing up our work and tying up all loose ends in Edmonton. Hitting the highway for Calgary with our small lives packed into 9 suitcases and 8 carry on bags, was the best feeling ever. I remember saying bye to Rhea that morning and trying to express in words this feeling I had of having no idea what the next few months would bring, but not feeling worried or anxious, only aware of some impending life that we would find and embrace. We got to Calgary and said our final goodbye to Joel and Eve who met us at the airport and took our car seats off our hands. We were on our way!

Our kids are in love with British Airways. Each of us received a little bag with a travel toothbrush and paste, an eye cover, and socks. Riley still talks about the food and drink and his own personal TV to watch Home Alone. We arrived in Heathrow at 12:30 PM London time and got on the tube for central London. The kids handled the jet lag very well falling asleep any time we sat for more then 5 minutes then springing to action when we needed to move.

After dropping off our things at our charming little hole in the wall bed and breakfast, we walked to Buckingham Palace and played British Bulldog in St James’ Park.

Then we were lucky enough to meet up with our good friends Jessica and Neve at the pub for dinner. Jessica is a colleague of mine in Edmonton who is an actor and drama instructor, and is currently getting her masters in London then back to Canada to become a director. She is inspiring with her hard work, ambition, talent and the ability to do all this while raising her beautiful daughter Neve, who is almost 3 years old.

The kids got to know Jessica and Neve when she watched them one year while I rehearsed Christmas Carol. We all love Jessica and Neve and felt so privileged to be able to visit them in the midst of their big adventure in London. The kids were also pretty thrilled to be able to hang out in a pub.

We went back to our digs where the kids slept through the night some on the floor and some on beds all in one tiny room, while Terry and I lied awake with jet lag from about 4 to 6 AM. Next thing we all knew there was a knock at the door at 8:15 AM for our “Proper English Breakfast” of fried eggs, coffee/hot chocolate, bacon and stacks of white toast (the kids favorite – they never get it at home). We walked to see Big Ben, the Thames, the London Eye and Westminster Abbey. Then back to our B&B for bags and off to the airport on the Tube again.

We flew off to Ghana at 3:00 PM once again taking full advantage of the free food, drink and movies (thank you British Airways). This time the kids each got a zip up pouch (perfect for pencil cases now), filled with an activity book, crayons, playing cards and more eye patches, socks and toothbrush/paste combos. I think Riley plans to buy stock in British Airways. We stepped off the airplane in Ghana and the moist evening air embraced us. We made it, and that funny feeling of having no idea what comes next started to play out.