<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:07:22.355-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Journey to the Bush</title><subtitle type='html'>The adventures, misadventures, musings, and tales from a 4th year medical student in Ghana</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>68</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7554975208199577441</id><published>2008-05-03T20:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T21:21:51.283-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Church in the Bush</title><content type='html'>I must acknowledge, I did not take this video, nor was I even present.  My roommate took the video, so I thank her.  I only learned how to use my video camera on my digital camera during Damba.  BUT this captures what church was like under a tree.  This one is larger than the three services I attended with Tommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I love in the video is seeing a guy on his cell phone.  Cell phones are HUGE in Ghana, mainly because they are a novelty.  Within only the last 2 or so years, you could only make land line phone calls, which were very sporadic, horrible connections.  So when cell phone towers started going up, it was a much better connection.  It's gone on like wildfire, and because it's so new there is absolutely no manners regarding answering cell phones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This circle singing/dancing can go on for hours before you get to the sermon.  What was nice is either Tommy or an interpreter would tell us what they were singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d4eae00b82c7f2ff" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd4eae00b82c7f2ff%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330171761%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3C07D97A137EFC22E2E4F3BEE0DE16BEDC6463C7.531EF33A22E560BA76B5441E5909EC27F9AA1155%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd4eae00b82c7f2ff%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D-fZBxJ2ZZcVcGdIIofTOSMkYUiI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd4eae00b82c7f2ff%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330171761%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3C07D97A137EFC22E2E4F3BEE0DE16BEDC6463C7.531EF33A22E560BA76B5441E5909EC27F9AA1155%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd4eae00b82c7f2ff%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D-fZBxJ2ZZcVcGdIIofTOSMkYUiI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7554975208199577441?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d4eae00b82c7f2ff&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7554975208199577441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7554975208199577441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7554975208199577441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7554975208199577441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/05/church-in-bush.html' title='Church in the Bush'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-8666371778867066938</id><published>2008-05-03T20:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T20:24:38.233-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My African Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SB0APFn0JCI/AAAAAAAAAO0/YlA4mnzbA9c/s1600-h/IMG_1026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SB0APFn0JCI/AAAAAAAAAO0/YlA4mnzbA9c/s400/IMG_1026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196309804262630434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Bowa and Comfort.  Bowa was one of our cooks, and Comfort worked in the OR.  Bowa is a man of few words, but when you asked he would tell us girls we talked too much.  He makes the world's BEST bread and tortillas!  His wife, Comfort, was a bit opposite of him, she loved to chat it up with us.  Technically Christy claimed her as her African mother, but somehow I still consider her family too.  This picture was taken the night they invited us over for dinner at their house.  Bowa is wearing a traditional smock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBz_s1n0JBI/AAAAAAAAAOs/pHGmUCuLueo/s1600-h/IMG_1255.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBz_s1n0JBI/AAAAAAAAAOs/pHGmUCuLueo/s400/IMG_1255.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196309215852110866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Zaato, my African father.  He is responsible for making my souped up slingshot.  He had 7 of his own children.  He was the master of the OR, maybe not formally trained master, but Christy would tell everyone that she would let Zaato operate by himself on her if the need arouse.  By the way that's my roommate Christy.  I love her, but she doesn't like her "business" to be on the internet, so because I respect her she doesn't make my blog often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBz_Z1n0JAI/AAAAAAAAAOk/GvZgBbZfNlI/s1600-h/IMG_1260.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBz_Z1n0JAI/AAAAAAAAAOk/GvZgBbZfNlI/s400/IMG_1260.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196308889434596354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Grace's mother.  Grace is the girl who had the pathologic fracture and was in traction for months.  Her mother is soooo sweet.  She speaks no English, and I speak very little Mampruli, but she did adapt me as her daughter--her naughty daughter that is (I loved to tickle her, she would jump so high and send me out of the room).  In this photo, she made me teazet one night, and we are enjoying the feast!  I got high marks for eating it just the way the Ghanaians would eat it.  She slept under her daughter's bed almost every night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-8666371778867066938?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/8666371778867066938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=8666371778867066938' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/8666371778867066938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/8666371778867066938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-african-family.html' title='My African Family'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SB0APFn0JCI/AAAAAAAAAO0/YlA4mnzbA9c/s72-c/IMG_1026.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-8064708524967335995</id><published>2008-05-02T16:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T16:59:37.746-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wards</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBuAD1n0I-I/AAAAAAAAAOU/XoHzrtBtA-Q/s1600-h/IMG_0886.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBuAD1n0I-I/AAAAAAAAAOU/XoHzrtBtA-Q/s400/IMG_0886.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195887398524036066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt-51n0I9I/AAAAAAAAAOM/tQHilE79_Uc/s1600-h/IMG_0884.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt-51n0I9I/AAAAAAAAAOM/tQHilE79_Uc/s400/IMG_0884.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195886127213716434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt-hVn0I8I/AAAAAAAAAOE/JGxQYWkVAUg/s1600-h/IMG_0890.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt-hVn0I8I/AAAAAAAAAOE/JGxQYWkVAUg/s400/IMG_0890.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195885706306921410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I actually have some better pictures of the wards, but for whatever reason my computer doesn't want to load them.  Two of the three pictures are in the male ward, which was the ward I mainly took care of.  I took the photos at night, so that I wouldn't have people mugging for the camera.  The only thing was my ward wasn't very full (I'm serious, full would mean ALOT more people on the floors).  I miss the wards!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-8064708524967335995?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/8064708524967335995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=8064708524967335995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/8064708524967335995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/8064708524967335995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/05/wards.html' title='Wards'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBuAD1n0I-I/AAAAAAAAAOU/XoHzrtBtA-Q/s72-c/IMG_0886.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-4877604202105940855</id><published>2008-05-02T16:24:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T16:44:59.459-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Around Nalerigu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt6CFn0I7I/AAAAAAAAAN8/wFmDJEaGYFs/s1600-h/IMG_0927.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt6CFn0I7I/AAAAAAAAAN8/wFmDJEaGYFs/s400/IMG_0927.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195880771389498290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is right across the street from the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt5tVn0I6I/AAAAAAAAAN0/e2EauljOUso/s1600-h/IMG_0926.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt5tVn0I6I/AAAAAAAAAN0/e2EauljOUso/s400/IMG_0926.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195880414907212706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pretty flowers outside someone's home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt5Aln0I5I/AAAAAAAAANs/gmUjea_unmI/s1600-h/IMG_0919.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt5Aln0I5I/AAAAAAAAANs/gmUjea_unmI/s400/IMG_0919.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195879646108066706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A typical little shop on the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt4v1n0I4I/AAAAAAAAANk/mRUtOLLauT8/s1600-h/IMG_0923.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt4v1n0I4I/AAAAAAAAANk/mRUtOLLauT8/s400/IMG_0923.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195879358345257858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nalerigu has a library.  I have no idea what kind of books are in there.  Caroline had taken us to the library at NASS (the high school) and it had a pitiful number of old books.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-4877604202105940855?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/4877604202105940855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=4877604202105940855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/4877604202105940855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/4877604202105940855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/05/around-nalerigu.html' title='Around Nalerigu'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/SBt6CFn0I7I/AAAAAAAAAN8/wFmDJEaGYFs/s72-c/IMG_0927.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7594348806032424527</id><published>2008-05-01T20:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T21:06:04.129-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back from cruising!</title><content type='html'>Hey if anyone is still around to read this....now that I'm back, I'm going to post some pictures I couldn't in Nalerigu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-24af90836b5fbb15" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D24af90836b5fbb15%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330171761%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E2036135B46E9DF9FB7AA66D4C299ED9BFD3626.4F6C2F0B4DF50A4F5CE5568BD6273029D82F801%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D24af90836b5fbb15%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D5H9V7ysfKLIa8Zdh8468-RlMqvM&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D24af90836b5fbb15%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330171761%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E2036135B46E9DF9FB7AA66D4C299ED9BFD3626.4F6C2F0B4DF50A4F5CE5568BD6273029D82F801%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D24af90836b5fbb15%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D5H9V7ysfKLIa8Zdh8468-RlMqvM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7594348806032424527?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=24af90836b5fbb15&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7594348806032424527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7594348806032424527' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7594348806032424527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7594348806032424527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-back-from-cruising.html' title='I&apos;m back from cruising!'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-1917405360960515247</id><published>2008-04-16T07:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T07:41:29.912-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OM-PUS-EE-AH POM</title><content type='html'>(Thank you very much)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to say thank you for all your prayers and support, I safely arrived back in Branchville yesterday afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likely after the cruise, I'll be uploading a bunch more pictures and such.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-1917405360960515247?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/1917405360960515247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=1917405360960515247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1917405360960515247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1917405360960515247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/04/om-pus-ee-ah-pom.html' title='OM-PUS-EE-AH POM'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7776156770071420008</id><published>2008-04-12T06:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T06:25:42.308-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Public Health</title><content type='html'>This is a bit backwards, but since I didn't post this week, I'll write about it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a bunch of new volunteers this week, so to keep everyone from stepping on each other's toes, we got to branch out a bit.  Christy and I took up an offer to spend the day with public health.  Public health takes care of the immunizations and prenatal visits, they have a place on the BMC compound, and they also travel to villages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started out helping Issac, our friend, give some immunizations.  We were pretty confused as to how to give them at first, because he told us they were to go intradermal.  We were pretty sure he didn't mean sub-epidural, like when you make the little wheal for a PPD shot.  Christy thought he meant then subcutaneous, so I give a subcutaneous shot to the next guy, and Issac is like no, let me show you.  He proceeds to give the next shot intramuscularly.  A tad confusing.  I'm just going to have faith the Lord will overcome our inexperience, and bless the vaccinations anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Baaba runs public health, she told us they were heading out to 2 villages that afternoon.  First for antenatal clinic, then to give meningitis vaccinations (they are experiencing an outbreak).  Mrs. Baaba would come pick us up at our place after lunch.  Mrs. Baaba is a character, I'm pretty sure she'd fit well in a Charles Dickens novel.  She's not slight, she likes her way, and she can drive FAST.  It made for an interesting journey.  She took special delight in laughing at me, but curiously I really don't know why I made her laugh so much.  After awhile, I just started being more silly the more she laughed at me.  She and I worked together doing prenatal visits in the bush.  Our clinic room, was a wooden table inside a closet filled with USAID bags filled with something, slightly different than your average American obstetrical visit, eh?  I have fantastic pictures, but still haven't found my cord, so we will all have to wait patiently.  If it wasn't entertaining enough to watch me try to remember my OB, have Mrs. Baaba, and three stunned local midwives watch me laughing (even more laughter when I let them use my camera, which they have never touched a camera before.....I will confess I lied and told them they took great photos, but in fact they cut off heads...forgive me...it was too entertaining watch them try to take the picture), simultaneously they were burning a field right next to us, and holding school under a tree.  Who knew it could be so busy in the bush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there we traveled to a village, close to where Tommy Harrison would take us to church.  The village was called Tuuni.  It was market day and we were giving out meningitis vaccines.  Now in the US, you have to drag your child for a vaccination, in Ghana you practically throw your child at the man holding a syringe.  We were crowded in from every side.  It made sense though because the people wanted to be vaccinated (knowing there was an outbreak going on) and assuming we would run out of vaccine before everyone got it, which also happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said, it was market day, and we got some of the nurses to take us down to find some little treats.  BUT the highlight of the day, and a very selfless act by my fantastic roommate, was that Christy gave up a ride on a moto back to Nalerigu, to give me the experience.  Now we were WAY out in the bush.  Mrs. Baaba thinks we have LOST our minds, why would anyone opt for moto.  It happened, by the Lord's grace, I had brought scrubs with me.  I ran into a building, ripped off my skirt, threw on scrubs, tied a scarf around my head (it happens Issac came with us when the dentist was here, and you might recall they were very specific that if I was to ride outside the lorry, I had to cover my head....well he was driving the moto, so the same rule applied).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty positive that besides Christy, no one thought I would last the whole way back on moto.  It's far for one thing.  It's dirty.  And the road is terrible.  BUT I actually felt like it was less bumpy on moto because you could more easily avoid the bumps.  Mrs. Baaba insisted she follow the whole way in her van, in case I gave up (which at least kept her speeding in check).  She did, probably at Christy's suggestion, creep up on us and beep really loudly to try and scare me.  I only laughed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home dirty and happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures to follow.  In fact, I'll let you judge yourselves, how the midwives pictures turned out....that is if I didn't already delete them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7776156770071420008?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7776156770071420008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7776156770071420008' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7776156770071420008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7776156770071420008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/04/public-health.html' title='Public Health'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3190181827562676526</id><published>2008-04-11T15:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T16:34:54.330-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesse Brooks Foundation</title><content type='html'>The group we picked up today were part of the Jesse Brooks Foundation and Art Alive Ministries.  Jesse was a 10 year old girl, who died in a van crash returning from a mission trip in Montana.  She always wanted to be a missionary to Africa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her parents created the foundation in her memory.  Many small events transpired, and they were introduced to Art Alive Ministries, who had funded an orphanage in Ghana.  Although the foundation had been established, they struggled in what to fund that kept Jesse's memory alive.  When they heard about this ministry, they thought it was the ideal combination of who Jesse was.  They decided to fund a new wing of the orphanage.  They have come for the dedication of that wing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not doing the story justice, and I'm certain my details are not completely factual.  However, what I do know is that it's pretty amazing when a tragedy of losing a child can turn into this amazing selfless gift to help 40 children.  The foundation will continue to fund more projects at the site, and hopes to eventually house over 100 children.  The orphanage provides a safe place to live, schooling, and teaching about Jesus.  It's been fun hanging out with the group today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is there website: www.jessebrooksfoundation.org&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3190181827562676526?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3190181827562676526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3190181827562676526' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3190181827562676526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3190181827562676526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/04/jesse-brooks-foundation.html' title='Jesse Brooks Foundation'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-999207215011789670</id><published>2008-04-11T13:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T14:09:32.963-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye Bye Nalerigu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_-l0WMbc6I/AAAAAAAAANM/uji1PuVf6Uo/s1600-h/IMG_0199.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_-l0WMbc6I/AAAAAAAAANM/uji1PuVf6Uo/s200/IMG_0199.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188047614483592098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been busy most of the week, and just didn't make it to posting.  Sadly, I'm not writing this post from Nalerigu, but I'm back in Accra (the capital).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a sad goodbye, I really fell in love with Nalerigu, the hospital, the people.  We had station meeting last night, Christy and I sort of have made our song of the trip, "On Jordan's Stormy Banks."  Let me give you the lyrics, it's an old hymn, but we prefer the new version (from Jars of Clay &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Redemption Songs&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand,&lt;br /&gt;And cast a wishful eye&lt;br /&gt;To Canaan’s fair and happy land,&lt;br /&gt;Where my possessions lie.&lt;/p&gt;O’er all those wide extended plains&lt;br /&gt;Shines one eternal day;&lt;br /&gt;There God the Son forever reigns,&lt;br /&gt;And scatters night away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chorus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am bound, I am bound, I am bound for the promised land (2x).&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p&gt;No chilling winds or poisonous breath&lt;br /&gt;Can reach that healthful shore;&lt;br /&gt;Sickness and sorrow, pain and death,&lt;br /&gt;Are felt and feared no more.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;When I shall reach that happy place,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll be forever blest,&lt;br /&gt;For I shall see my Father’s face,&lt;br /&gt;And in His bosom rest.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chorus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My favorite verse is the one where it talks about how sickness, sorrow, pain, and death are felt and feared no more.  It's a comfort to dwell on that verse when I think of my patients in Nalerigu and all my future patients.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;At 4am this morning, I was picked up at the house and on my way to the airport.  There was a slight scare last night, when we realized a mistake had been made, and no one had my ticket.  However that was quickly resolved, and I had no problems getting on the plane today.  A little different, no one ever asked for my name or passport, or anything actually.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I got to the guest house in Accra, I realized how little I slept this past week.  I really wanted to be ambitious and do and see things, but it's hard to do when you're tired and you have no one to go with.  I had been picked up from the airport with a mission team from Alabama just arriving from the states.  They overheard me talking to Fushsani about not having anything to do today, and they decided to join me to go to the beach.  It was actually a hotel, next to the ocean.  I sat next to a very very nice pool, swam, and chilled the afternoon away.  To top it off, I had REAL ice cream!   And I was thankful they came with me, because I did fantastically getting a good taxi price, but then the guy got lost, and it was definitely nice to not be alone and lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I'll have to post about what they are doing here because I think it's a pretty interesting story about how God can turn tragedy into something miraculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS I temporarily have misplaced my cable for my digital camera, so I can only post old pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-999207215011789670?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/999207215011789670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=999207215011789670' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/999207215011789670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/999207215011789670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/04/bye-bye-nalerigu.html' title='Bye Bye Nalerigu'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_-l0WMbc6I/AAAAAAAAANM/uji1PuVf6Uo/s72-c/IMG_0199.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7874107193352214450</id><published>2008-04-06T16:22:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T16:41:37.626-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Humor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_k0ujsFACI/AAAAAAAAANE/B9ZdDlHl-xA/s1600-h/IMG_0174.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_k0ujsFACI/AAAAAAAAANE/B9ZdDlHl-xA/s200/IMG_0174.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186234420352581666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_kzMzsFABI/AAAAAAAAAM8/i7WWMnaVeQQ/s1600-h/IMG_0118.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_kzMzsFABI/AAAAAAAAAM8/i7WWMnaVeQQ/s200/IMG_0118.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186232741020368914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_kyHTsFAAI/AAAAAAAAAM0/CO0GAbhEvQ4/s1600-h/IMG_0117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_kyHTsFAAI/AAAAAAAAAM0/CO0GAbhEvQ4/s200/IMG_0117.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186231547019460610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You know you were all wondering about it, so I'll just answer the question BEFORE you ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've previously said that our house is equipped with toilet, however I'm pretty assured the BMC campus (plus Tommy's house) may be the only place in Nalerigu to use a real toilet.  I have successfully managed to avoid using Ghanaian restrooms for the most part, but not entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top picture posted is a "bathroom" I got to use when I was out with Dr. Robinson pulling teeth in the bush.  It was surprisingly VERY clean, and didn't smell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bottom two pictures are from the BMC latrines.  Besides taking the photos, I have avoided them completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have a more interesting time on my way to Mole.  At a bus stop, you could get in one of two lines, depending on what you needed to deposit.  I was in line for #1, after paying a few pesewas, I was allowed in this cement room with no door.  A drainage pipe ran down the middle that was open.  Basically you just position yourself correctly and aim for the drainage pipe.  It was interesting.  It's especially lovely, when you consider I had to PAY for the experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most assuredly if you do happen across an actual toilet, it's certain it will NOT have toilet paper, but for a few more pesewas, you can also have an alloted amount.  I suggest you just bring your own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7874107193352214450?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7874107193352214450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7874107193352214450' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7874107193352214450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7874107193352214450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/04/potty-humor.html' title='Potty Humor'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_k0ujsFACI/AAAAAAAAANE/B9ZdDlHl-xA/s72-c/IMG_0174.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2944991119414464833</id><published>2008-04-05T16:15:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T16:30:02.337-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dasuba</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_fgHTsE__I/AAAAAAAAAMs/lztSIM4exdg/s1600-h/IMG_1273.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_fgHTsE__I/AAAAAAAAAMs/lztSIM4exdg/s200/IMG_1273.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185859912089272306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fear that I will speak less intelligently by the time I get home.  If you speak how I would normally in the US, people don't understand you here.  When I first got here, it was grating to listen to Americans talk to Ghanaians.  However, slowly but surely, I have been broken in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a mix of a few Mampruli words with a kind of pigeon English.  I say things like, "Where does it pain you?  Is your pain much much or small small?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dasuba" is "Good Morning" in Mampruli.  The response is "Naa."  Actually, the response to most any greeting question is either "Naa" or "Alafia."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at Koko Duu, our nutrition center, and I got to borrow someone's baby to practice carrying it like a Ghanaian.  It's a very comfortable way to carry a child around.  I've actually done it a few times now, and I'm getting the hang of it.  That also happens to be the other African dress I had made here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2944991119414464833?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2944991119414464833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2944991119414464833' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2944991119414464833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2944991119414464833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/04/dasuba.html' title='Dasuba'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_fgHTsE__I/AAAAAAAAAMs/lztSIM4exdg/s72-c/IMG_1273.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-5817221772728783397</id><published>2008-04-05T15:30:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T16:10:01.459-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Baaba</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_fY9TsE_-I/AAAAAAAAAMk/nxhKuM21Qxc/s1600-h/IMG_1247.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_fY9TsE_-I/AAAAAAAAAMk/nxhKuM21Qxc/s200/IMG_1247.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185852043709186018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet my friend, Baaba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baaba was playing with matches, in the same room as gun powder, when an ill-fated accident happened.  We are really thankful, because, originally, we thought he might lose his eye sight.  However, the Lord answered alot of prayer, and just a few days after he was burned, we could see Baaba tracking us around the room and knew he had sight.  He has burns covering his anterior chest, bilateral arms, scrotum, and upper thighs.  Thankfully, his burns are rather superficial, he will not require any skin grafts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no physical or occupational therapy here, but we've worked with Baaba's mother to encourage Baaba to move so he doesn't stiffen up.  I gave him crayons and a coloring book to encourage some fine motor skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been cleaning Baaba every few days for 3-4 weeks now.  He's almost ready to go home.  We are all very thankful for how Baaba has recovered, we've come to love him and his mother!  I don't think Baaba thought of us as friends at first, since we only inflicted pain on him, but slowly he's come around and breaks out a smile or two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-5817221772728783397?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/5817221772728783397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=5817221772728783397' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/5817221772728783397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/5817221772728783397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/04/baaba.html' title='Baaba'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_fY9TsE_-I/AAAAAAAAAMk/nxhKuM21Qxc/s72-c/IMG_1247.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-6836171136084240372</id><published>2008-04-02T15:47:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T16:02:03.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To keep the blog police at bay</title><content type='html'>The answer to what was in the picture is a grinding stone (actually a set of three grinding stones), mainly used to grind maize, which they make teazet, a staple food here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The internet, of course, isn't cooperating to get more pictures uploaded, so be patient.  Plus I've been super busy with work, and just haven't had alot of time to get to the internet.  I'll likely have to catch up when I get home with many unanswered questions and more pictures.  I haven't even posted pictures of the kob and water buck, plus a few pretty birds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Paul, the one disappointment during my trip to Mole, was that apparently a 6 foot snake was killed by my house in Nalerigu over the weekend.  Unfortunately, a guard killed it, and he didn't know that we wanted to eat it.  I never got to see the snake, and we will not be enjoying that delicacy.  However, Yisah has a week left to pull through with another one.  I didn't see it, but carpet vipers don't usually get that big, so it had to be something else, maybe a cobra?--I'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you believe I only have a little over a week left in Nalerigu?  Time has FLOWN by, I feel like I just got here!  It will be hard to leave!  However, I am thinking about the fun of the cruise (if you didn't know I'm heading on a cruise with my family and medical school roommate a week after I get back), that will hopefully ease the blow of leaving Nalerigu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-6836171136084240372?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/6836171136084240372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=6836171136084240372' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6836171136084240372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6836171136084240372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/04/to-keep-blog-police-at-bay.html' title='To keep the blog police at bay'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-5131584925288552638</id><published>2008-04-02T15:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:47:31.105-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When I was a young warthog...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_PhlDsE_8I/AAAAAAAAAMU/b6aDcx5CXjo/s1600-h/IMG_1107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_PhlDsE_8I/AAAAAAAAAMU/b6aDcx5CXjo/s200/IMG_1107.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184735622795165634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who remembers the Lion King?  I know, you all know Pumba, he was a warthog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Sheryl is reading this, I just want you to know I thought of you MANY MANY MANY times in Mole!  I wish you were enjoying it with me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some pictures, we had warthogs not more than 5 feet from our dinner table, but, of course, the Ghanaian internet is not allowing those to post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-5131584925288552638?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/5131584925288552638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=5131584925288552638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/5131584925288552638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/5131584925288552638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/04/when-i-was-young-warthog.html' title='When I was a young warthog...'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_PhlDsE_8I/AAAAAAAAAMU/b6aDcx5CXjo/s72-c/IMG_1107.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-6793085850990992343</id><published>2008-04-02T15:12:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:36:33.085-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Elephants for Aunt Cathy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_PcUDsE_7I/AAAAAAAAAMM/myV6fq5-uI0/s1600-h/IMG_1236.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_PcUDsE_7I/AAAAAAAAAMM/myV6fq5-uI0/s200/IMG_1236.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184729833179250610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_PbNzsE_6I/AAAAAAAAAME/qRHCDyRzVl0/s1600-h/IMG_1084-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_PbNzsE_6I/AAAAAAAAAME/qRHCDyRzVl0/s200/IMG_1084-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184728626293440418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I tried to post more, but the internet connection said no.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-6793085850990992343?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/6793085850990992343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=6793085850990992343' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6793085850990992343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6793085850990992343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/04/elephants-for-aunt-cathy.html' title='Elephants for Aunt Cathy'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_PcUDsE_7I/AAAAAAAAAMM/myV6fq5-uI0/s72-c/IMG_1236.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3009922204783477602</id><published>2008-03-31T16:27:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T16:51:55.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Point A to Point B</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FNQDsE_5I/AAAAAAAAAL8/LJJRaj24zgw/s1600-h/IMG_1045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FNQDsE_5I/AAAAAAAAAL8/LJJRaj24zgw/s200/IMG_1045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184009584343580562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our WONDERFUL Ghanian National Fire Service bus that took us from Larabanga to Mole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FLMDsE_4I/AAAAAAAAAL0/3iD0-7cHGEk/s1600-h/IMG_1038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FLMDsE_4I/AAAAAAAAAL0/3iD0-7cHGEk/s200/IMG_1038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184007316600848258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;View from inside the a tro-tro, by the way, this one isn't full, we picked up another 4-5 people after this shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FKSTsE_3I/AAAAAAAAALs/IgmYM75uxgo/s1600-h/IMG_1041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FKSTsE_3I/AAAAAAAAALs/IgmYM75uxgo/s200/IMG_1041.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184006324463402866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dancing fireman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fantastic sidekick on this trip was my roommate, Christy.  If it wasn't for her travel experience, I probably would not have been as open to going on this trip via public transportation.  However, she's been to Africa several times, and had already made a trip to another country during my stay on public transport.  Therefore, I felt assured we could do it with a little prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rounded Friday morning, then walked to the bus station.  We caught a bus to Walewale, which a nurse from BMC was on.  He then insisted he find us a ride to Tamale via tro-tro.  We were convinced he would miss his own connection (he was going in the opposite direction), but he kept his word and found us a tro-tro to Tamale.  We got to Tamale early enough to do some shopping and enjoy a nice dinner. We took a taxi to our accommodations at the Catholic Guest House, and were surprised when a caretaker from missionaries in Tamale, met us there to ensure we had arrived safely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We knew there was a bus from Tamale to Larabanga (a town right outside the park) in the am, and in one of those God-planned things, someone at the guest house informed us we needed to go a ticket that night to make the bus in the am.  We got one of the last tickets!  So we boarded that bus at a nice early 5am the next morning, and took the bumpiest road ever to Larabanga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being that Larabanga is right outside a major tourist site in Ghana, they can be rather hostile or in your face about everything.  Christy and I quickly escaped these "helpful" people, and thought we would walk the 6km to the park.  We take off walking, when we here this loud bus of singing men, a red bus.  It literally looked like some scene out a movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The singing red bus pulls up and tells us to join them.  It's the Ghana National Fire Service!  They were training in a town outside of Mole and were going to visit the park for the day.  They were excited to be there.  They literally danced and sang the entire ride!  They were hysterical!  We had to stop to pay our entrance fee, and they all filed off to dance some more!  They were FANTASTIC!!!!  I cannot think of a more perfect way to arrive at the park!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we were at the park, in the morning we wanted to fit in the morning safari (especially because the evening safari, we hadn't seen any elephants).  But we also knew we were cutting it close because a bus back to Tamale was supposed to arrive in Larabanga around 10, and safari shouldn't finish until like 9:30am.  We loved safari, and we saw our elephants up close.   We begged out ranger to let us sneak off early to get moving, which he thankful let us do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We overpaid a man (everything is more expensive in this part of the country since it's such a big tourist thing) to take a moto back to town, then he disappeared for like 10 minutes.  Finally he reappears and after an argument with friends, it is determined his bike is too unsafe for 3 of us to ride.  By the way, by US standards 3 people is always unsafe, but here, you can easily see 4 people on one moto!  So his friend agrees to also use his moto, so it'll be only two people per moto.  They drove so crazy!  I prayed for my life on this ride, I was certain it wasn't going to end well!  They would speed up, then slow down.  Christy's guy at some point was chasing down this truck for an unknown reason.  It was bad!  Something I do not wish to repeat any time soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOWEVER, they got us there with the bus already there, so were were grateful to not miss the bus!  I'm just a bit frazzled at the moto bike incident and stress about making or not making the bus.  We get on the bus, and the entire Larabanga football team is on there, singing, and dancing preparing for a game with Domongo, a town down the road.  They completely melt away all of our stress!!!  In fact, they insist we dance with them.  Refer back to the note about this being one of the bumpiest roads EVER, but we did it!  And in case Christy #2 reads this.....we got them to sing "You are the Most High God"!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To shorten the story, we got back to Tamale, stayed at a missionaries' house overnight.  And took two tro-tros back to Nalerigu today!  We missed Nalerigu, we had a great trip, but we were happy to return to our little town! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved my weekend, but I also learned how much I LOVE Nalerigu!  The town is very good to us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3009922204783477602?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3009922204783477602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3009922204783477602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3009922204783477602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3009922204783477602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/point-to-point-b.html' title='Point A to Point B'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FNQDsE_5I/AAAAAAAAAL8/LJJRaj24zgw/s72-c/IMG_1045.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7385377310175378990</id><published>2008-03-31T15:47:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T16:26:51.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Elephants, Baboons, Crocidiles...Oh My</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FFITsE_2I/AAAAAAAAALk/GFKxPM-wvMg/s1600-h/IMG_1107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FFITsE_2I/AAAAAAAAALk/GFKxPM-wvMg/s200/IMG_1107.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184000655106572130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FDgzsE_1I/AAAAAAAAALc/obAw6Y40ZB8/s1600-h/IMG_1053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FDgzsE_1I/AAAAAAAAALc/obAw6Y40ZB8/s200/IMG_1053.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183998876990111570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FCTDsE_0I/AAAAAAAAALU/S_ZpWj02xfg/s1600-h/IMG_1231-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FCTDsE_0I/AAAAAAAAALU/S_ZpWj02xfg/s200/IMG_1231-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183997541255282498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After much scheming, dreaming, planning, re-planning, praying, packing....this weekend my roommate and I headed to Mole National Park to go on safari!  I had been dreaming of this trip since my last trip to Africa when I missed out on safari.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only did we go on safari, but we had decided to make it a true adventure (and in our budget) so we took all public transportation to and from the park!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took:&lt;br /&gt;-bus&lt;br /&gt;-tro-tros (take a van, and put in about 20+ people, add more to the roof, and you have a tro-tro)&lt;br /&gt;-hitchhiked (NOT in the true sense that we were actively seeking a ride, but in the sense that we were walking when we were offered a ride)&lt;br /&gt;-moto (this was scary, very scary, but I'll have to post later about some of my getting to and from adventures)&lt;br /&gt;-taxi&lt;br /&gt;-walked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord was so good to us because public transport in Ghana comes with alot of baggage, and miraculously we ran into relatively few problems.  We made every connection we planned out.  The Lord went before us in this entire adventure from the most small detail (like someone telling us we needed a bus ticket the night before, and we got one of the LAST tickets) to the big details (seeing those elephants!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ghana is not known for it's animals and it lacks many of the big animals (aka lions), but I was just so excited for the opportunity to go and the support from the hospital to let us go.  Mole National Park is located 56 km outside of Tamale, down one of the worst roads in Ghana.  The park has one motel, which is situated on top of an escarpment (ridge), overlooking two main watering holes in the park.  So we could look out our hotel window, and see monkeys, warthogs, etc.  We ate breakfast with elephants bathing in the watering hole below! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We actually only spent about 24 hours at the park, but it was well worth the trip!  I can't remember the last time I lost sleep because I was so giddy about a trip (I was like a little kid Christmas eve).  We went on an evening and morning walking safari, it's one of the few places in the world, where you can go on foot with an armed ranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw:&lt;br /&gt;-Elephant&lt;br /&gt;-Kob (kind of like a deer)&lt;br /&gt;-Water buck (a really big deer)&lt;br /&gt;-Crocodile&lt;br /&gt;-Green monkey&lt;br /&gt;-Baboon&lt;br /&gt;-Countless pretty birds&lt;br /&gt;-Warthogs&lt;br /&gt;-and more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the location of the hotel wasn't cool enough, the hotel had AIR CONDITIONING and a SWIMMING POOL!!!!!  I won't let people tell me how hot it is outside because it would depress me.  But Elisabeth Faile let it slip the other day that it was 107 IN THE SHADE!  So with that in mind, you can imagine how excited we were with air conditioning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could express to you just how blessed I feel to have been able to enjoy such a great weekend!  I hope through pictures and a few stories, you'll see a glimpse of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7385377310175378990?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7385377310175378990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7385377310175378990' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7385377310175378990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7385377310175378990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/elephants-baboons-crocidilesoh-my.html' title='Elephants, Baboons, Crocidiles...Oh My'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R_FFITsE_2I/AAAAAAAAALk/GFKxPM-wvMg/s72-c/IMG_1107.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-6780788422957037683</id><published>2008-03-27T17:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T18:02:23.333-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Faithful Readers</title><content type='html'>Hello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know some of you check my blog often.  It's been a busy week, so I haven't had time to post.  I apologize.  I also wanted to thank you for all the support I have received.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I just wanted you to know I won't be near a computer again until at least Monday, so you will have to live without a new post till Monday.  Hopefully though I'll have good stories when I'm back online!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But meanwhile, no one has gotten the correct answer about what was in the picture from the compound we visited, you have all weekend to guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many blessings!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-6780788422957037683?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/6780788422957037683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=6780788422957037683' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6780788422957037683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6780788422957037683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/faithful-readers.html' title='Faithful Readers'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-1163697200867365575</id><published>2008-03-25T15:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T16:11:07.661-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Damba III</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lcIzsE_zI/AAAAAAAAALM/4WCCmfO8Pz8/s1600-h/IMG_0857.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lcIzsE_zI/AAAAAAAAALM/4WCCmfO8Pz8/s200/IMG_0857.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181774152650260274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lamDsE_yI/AAAAAAAAALE/cJSIixZygdw/s1600-h/IMG_0858.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lamDsE_yI/AAAAAAAAALE/cJSIixZygdw/s200/IMG_0858.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181772456138178338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lY8DsE_xI/AAAAAAAAAK8/kQqcFfIra2E/s1600-h/IMG_0916.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lY8DsE_xI/AAAAAAAAAK8/kQqcFfIra2E/s200/IMG_0916.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181770635072044818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-1163697200867365575?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/1163697200867365575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=1163697200867365575' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1163697200867365575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1163697200867365575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/damba-iii.html' title='Damba III'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lcIzsE_zI/AAAAAAAAALM/4WCCmfO8Pz8/s72-c/IMG_0857.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3099100665019200925</id><published>2008-03-25T15:30:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T15:49:57.322-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More Damba Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lW-jsE_wI/AAAAAAAAAK0/EeOGFKZlCIQ/s1600-h/IMG_0836.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lW-jsE_wI/AAAAAAAAAK0/EeOGFKZlCIQ/s200/IMG_0836.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181768478998462210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lV2jsE_vI/AAAAAAAAAKs/34TPgSaZHCk/s1600-h/IMG_0787.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lV2jsE_vI/AAAAAAAAAKs/34TPgSaZHCk/s200/IMG_0787.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181767242047880946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lUmTsE_uI/AAAAAAAAAKk/-G-MuL_e7yk/s1600-h/IMG_0793.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lUmTsE_uI/AAAAAAAAAKk/-G-MuL_e7yk/s200/IMG_0793.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181765863363378914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3099100665019200925?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3099100665019200925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3099100665019200925' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3099100665019200925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3099100665019200925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/more-damba-photos.html' title='More Damba Photos'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-lW-jsE_wI/AAAAAAAAAK0/EeOGFKZlCIQ/s72-c/IMG_0836.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-8295635716719681515</id><published>2008-03-24T17:00:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T10:54:58.919-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Local Medicine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-kNHTsE_sI/AAAAAAAAAKU/voo9uFA2J3E/s1600-h/IMG_0110.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-kNHTsE_sI/AAAAAAAAAKU/voo9uFA2J3E/s200/IMG_0110.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181687265461862082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-kSGDsE_tI/AAAAAAAAAKc/jGZTyY22Bww/s1600-h/IMG_0563.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-kSGDsE_tI/AAAAAAAAAKc/jGZTyY22Bww/s200/IMG_0563.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181692741545164498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Local medicine happens here, sometimes called witch doctors.  Often you can diagnose a sickle cell patient, by merely noting the small cuts on his body from the local treatment.  There's a struggle between patients choosing local treatment vs traditional medicine.  One barrier to traditional medicine is the cost, our facility tries to contain cost, but at other facilities you must pay before treatment.  Then families can put pressure on loved ones to seek local treatment first, even the educated.  The full time doctors told a story of a medical assistant choosing local treatment for his daughter's femur fracture over traditional medicine.  It's something very different than America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy had brought us to a compound, where a man was receiving local medicine for his knee on our Sunday trips to the bush.  How it worked out, we went to the compound two Sundays in a row, so we saw two different types of "healing."  I'll try to post both pictures of the same guy above.  In one picture, multiple small cuts have been made all over the knee.  In the second, he has cow dung spread over the knee.  In fairness to the man, he had been at our facility at some point, but the doctors were not sure if he had tumor or what, he was referred to go to an orthopedist, but then opted for local treatment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People believe in witches here, in fact you can be accused of being a witch, and exiled to a witch village.  I was privileged yesterday to get a motobike tour around one witch village just 10 km from Nalerigu, in a town called Gambaga. (That does mean I finally got on a moto outside of the BMC compound)  We would have had to gotten permission from the chief to do anymore than circle the place on moto, so it wasn't much of a tour.  I tried to find out how one gets accused of being a witch, but there is no set way.  Often the accusation is made after someone gets sick or dies, the matter is taken before the chief, and sometimes the accused just admits to being a witch or is judged to be a witch.  It reminds me very much of the Salem witch trials from our own US history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many little signs of superstitions at homes, from crosses on houses to keep ghosts away or sacrifices put outside the home.  They will mark trees they think are bewitched, tying cloth around to hold the evil spirits in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-8295635716719681515?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/8295635716719681515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=8295635716719681515' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/8295635716719681515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/8295635716719681515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/local-medicine.html' title='Local Medicine'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-kNHTsE_sI/AAAAAAAAAKU/voo9uFA2J3E/s72-c/IMG_0110.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3834683973299143279</id><published>2008-03-24T16:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T16:59:26.571-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Easter!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-gVeTsE_pI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/hOQbmICoCwo/s1600-h/IMG_1020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-gVeTsE_pI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/hOQbmICoCwo/s200/IMG_1020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181414981715164818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-gUOTsE_oI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/xrsvS8iCjNo/s1600-h/IMG_1000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-gUOTsE_oI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/xrsvS8iCjNo/s200/IMG_1000.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181413607325630082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm late!  I was on call on Easter, and just never made it to the schoolhouse to post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone had a very blessed Easter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday evening, the Christys and myself dyed Easter eggs!  They came out surprisingly well for not having the usual little Easter egg dying kits you get in the US.  We also made Easter baskets for the missionaries, which was alot of fun!  The Failes had us to dinner for Swedish pancakes (Elisabeth is from Sweden, Dr. Faile met Elisabeth when they were both on the mission field in Yemen).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter started out with my usual tradition of going to see the sunrise.  Ok, we didn't actually make it for the actual sunrise, but only because everyone felt it was a bad idea to walk in the dark up the "mountain" with waifu (snake) around.  I'm pretty sure I scared the night gaurd, I think he thinks I was sleep walking.  Because I come out of the house at 5:30 am and stare at the sky (it rained the night before), and we determined it was pointless to go if it was too cloudy.  He comes running over speaking Mampruli fast, and I cannot understand him or explain that I am merely looking to see if it is cloudy.  He had a very concerned face, I'm certain he thought I was sleep walking.  I walked back in the house satisfied we could go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christy #2 and I did head for the mountain.  We enjoyed some quiet time, until we were interrupted by bees, which Christy is allergic too.  When I looked out from the top, I just kept thinking this is what the Garden of Gethmane must have looked like.  Despite being cut short by bees, it was a very pleasant time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it back to the hospital to round (there are sick people EVERY DAY of the year).  I will spare everyone details, but I witnessed a very dramatic death.  I've seen people die before, but not quite like this.  The patient had been talking and answering my questions not 2-3 minutes before.  What was more difficult for me is that I still had about 4 patients to see in the ward, we don't have private rooms like in the US.  So I have this family, who just witnessed a very graphic death of their loved one, and now I have turn my back and see the patient in the next bed.  That was my downer of Easter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the Lord lifted me up.  I had time to quickly change for church (and might I add, I had a second African dress made, which I wore and love).  We had heard the Presbyterian Church has a very good choir, so we decided to attend.  The church was tiny, like maybe the size of our living room and dining room combined, but it was PACKED!  I mean my knees were jammed into the bench beside me, people were everywhere!  We were NOT disappointed we came, the choir was AMAZING!  The Christys and I often joke about Ghanaian music, because they tend to play very very very loud and off key, but this was not like that.  It was the most worshipful beautiful singing!  It's a sad comparison, but the closest thing I can relate it to is the African hymns in Lion King on Broadway.  Of course, I don't know most of what was actually being sang, but I'm sure it was very reverent!  It put me right back in the Easter mood.  We are going try to locate some kind of CD of African gospel music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on call, so I spent most of the afternoon at the hospital.  However, we had planned a big surprise for one of our patients.  Grace is a high schooler, who broke her leg, actually she had a pathologic fracture.  What that means is that she didn't just fall and break it, but that some other pathology (in her case infection) had weakened the bone to the point of fracture.  There are no orthopedics here, so her option was traction, which she thankfully took.  (I owe you a post on traditional medicine/witch doctors, but often patients refuse to have bones treated here, instead opting for local treatment) Grace had been sitting in her bed since before I got here in traction.  We got permission from Dr. Faile to move her into one of the operating theaters, which had American plugs.  We plugged in my laptop, made popcorn and watched, "The Chronicles of Narnia."  She LOVED IT!  I actually missed most of the movie due to seeing other patients, but I know she loved it!  We had told the nurses if her family came to tell them where we took her, unfortunately that message didn't get passed along.  When I got called to see a patient, I found her very frightened mother thinking her daughter was in surgery.  We quickly made amends, and showed her mother what kind of "surgery" we were doing!  We've been supplying Grace with some books to read too, but she's really taken to the Children's Bible I brought, so I think I'm going to just give it to her.  However now that I know Mrs. H reads this, when I get back I will need another copy of that Children's Bible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I missed most of the movie anyways, I hung out with some of the nurses, who were sharing mangoes.  They are messy to eat, and I didn't want to eat the skin because I didn't have the proper way to wash it at the nursing station.  Needless to say, I made such a complete mess of myself!  Whatever, it was fun, and all the nurses had a great laugh watching me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3834683973299143279?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3834683973299143279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3834683973299143279' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3834683973299143279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3834683973299143279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/happy-easter.html' title='Happy Easter!'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-gVeTsE_pI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/hOQbmICoCwo/s72-c/IMG_1020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-1452085737992881370</id><published>2008-03-21T16:46:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T17:12:02.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Compound</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-Qj-jsE_mI/AAAAAAAAAJk/91yuyVWwF5s/s1600-h/IMG_0970.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-Qj-jsE_mI/AAAAAAAAAJk/91yuyVWwF5s/s200/IMG_0970.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180305029021892194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-QhZzsE_lI/AAAAAAAAAJc/uNhwI8YLfT8/s1600-h/IMG_0960.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-QhZzsE_lI/AAAAAAAAAJc/uNhwI8YLfT8/s200/IMG_0960.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180302198638444114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-QgDDsE_kI/AAAAAAAAAJU/QKdp9SQFU1c/s1600-h/IMG_0953.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-QgDDsE_kI/AAAAAAAAAJU/QKdp9SQFU1c/s200/IMG_0953.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180300708284792386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to my guide book in Paga, you can visit Pia's Palace, which is supposed to be a great example of an extended family compound.  We drove by, and it looked like a cheesy tourist thing, and decided to skip it.  The reason I was originally interested in it was because the architecture of the huts are different near Paga than in Nalerigu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said in my last post, a nurse, Kate, came with us because she is from the area and wanted to see her family.  She brought us to her mother's house, which is exactly the style hut I wanted to get a closer look at.  Her family was so gracious in giving us free access to tour the compound, the top picture is her mother fooling around with a basket on her head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is different with these huts is that they do not use thatched roofs.  Instead they have flat mud roofs that they have stairs up to.  The roofs are multi-functional, they can then be used as sleeping quarters in hot weather or to dry things out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 3rd picture above was taken as I stood on the roof of one hut and overlooks the entire compound.  The center of the compound is a pen to hold their cows.  The small domed shaped huts are equivalent to what we would call silos.  You can see stairs up to another roof if you look in the back right corner.  Also in the front left corner, one hut has no roof, but some thatching just laying there, that is used as one of the kitchens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 2nd picture was also taken in the house.  Who can guess what that is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had alot of fun at the compound, thanks to Kate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Hewitt also took us to the Bolgatanga market.  Bolgatanga is a much larger city than Nalerigu, and rightly their market is much larger.  We enjoyed walking through all the alley ways with Dr. Hewitt, who is fluent in the language.  We were looking for these baskets that are local to the region, actually the same one on Kate's mother's head.  We found them, but unfortunately they only had large baskets that could not be packed in a suitcase.  It was fun still.  He also earlier in the day took us to a fantastic fabric store.  I think the owner enjoyed our visit because we gave them quite a bit of business.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-1452085737992881370?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/1452085737992881370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=1452085737992881370' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1452085737992881370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1452085737992881370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/compound.html' title='Compound'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-Qj-jsE_mI/AAAAAAAAAJk/91yuyVWwF5s/s72-c/IMG_0970.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7827120131143155021</id><published>2008-03-21T16:10:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T16:46:41.154-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Paga</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-QX6jsE_iI/AAAAAAAAAJE/zqaJ7I2dm1E/s1600-h/IMG_0947.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-QX6jsE_iI/AAAAAAAAAJE/zqaJ7I2dm1E/s200/IMG_0947.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180291766162882082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Good Friday and a holiday here, so Dr. Hewitt graciously agreed to take Christy #1 and #2, and myself to Paga after rounds.  We also took along Sister Kate, a nurse who is from a town near Paga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paga is a town, right on the Ghanian border with Burkina Faso.  Why would someone travel there?  To see the sacred crocodiles, of course! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The legend, according to my Bradt's Ghana guide, is that in 1670 an important chief died.  His son, Paniogo, lost succession and was forced to flee.  He was being chased, and when he got to Tampala, he was blocked by a raging river.  He desparately asked a crocodile to help his party across the river, and in return they would never harm a crocodile.  The crocodile beat his tale so hard that the water parted, and they were able to cross, but the water rolled back when those in pursuit tried to cross.  Does that sound familiar to anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then years later, the son of Paniogo, Naveh, fell into an aardvark hole, and the entrance collapsed.  He was trapped for 2 days, but then a crocodile living in the hole found him and showed him an escape path.  He reaffirmed his father's pledge, but when he made it back to his village, he realized they had killed crocodiles.  Naveh decided he needed to find a new home, so he went to the crocodile pond, and declared it his new home.  He was the first chief of Paga.  It is said that no one in town has ever been hurt by a crocodile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you pay about $5, which pays for your access to the crocodile ponds, as well as the fowl that will be sacrificed to the crocodile, after you have your photo-op.  They told us there are over 200 crocodiles in the pond, and that they go swimming with them.  I'm not sure I believe that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry Dad, I believe you technically told me no crocodiles before I left.  But you said it was ok, if you didn't know till AFTER I went.  And I still have all my appendages!  :-)  I'm home safely!  Therefore, I don't think I broke any rule.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7827120131143155021?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7827120131143155021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7827120131143155021' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7827120131143155021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7827120131143155021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/paga.html' title='Paga'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-QX6jsE_iI/AAAAAAAAAJE/zqaJ7I2dm1E/s72-c/IMG_0947.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-5581802314128348146</id><published>2008-03-20T17:15:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T16:09:15.712-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Damba!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-LvITsE_hI/AAAAAAAAAI8/rRePaxnLJ8E/s1600-h/IMG_0809.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-LvITsE_hI/AAAAAAAAAI8/rRePaxnLJ8E/s200/IMG_0809.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179965447432633874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;About a week ago, we were told that there was going to be a festival in town.  We could only get vague details about it.  In fact, no one really knew WHEN it was.  Some said it pasted already, some said it was Tuesday, some Wednesday, etc.  It was yesterday.  Dr. Faile kindly pushed us out of clinic so we could attend, and we had no idea what was in store for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to DAMBA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed out for the chief's palace to find a massive crowd gathered.  A little Ghanaian kid greets us saying, "Suliminga (foreigner), you are LATE!"  We break out laughing, when in Africa is anything late.  It's looking like there is no possible way we are going to get close enough to see, when the crowd parts for the white people.  Next thing you know, we are in the front row and being led towards the chiefs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damba is a celebration where all the tribal chiefs from the northern region come to honor the king of the northern region.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should mention as soon as we get to the front a old time musket gun shoots in the air about 5 feet in front of us, and I startle like crazy.  The gun will continue to go off every few minutes the entire time the king is out, and I continue to jump, which just sets the crowd off to roaring laughter.  We meet up with one of the princes, which there are many, being that we learn the king has about 17 wives (I've meant to do a post about polygamy, we'll have to save my thoughts on that for another day), but he is the one who then grants us permission to take photos at will and gives us access to go in the palace, and even attempts to keep the militia people with their muskets far away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first part of the celebration is the chiefs and important people dancing for the king, who mustn't stay out past sunset.  There's drummers EVERYWHERE, and they follow the dancer around.  Here when you dance, people pay you.  Actually they try to stick coins to your forehead. Oh and to tell who is important, they wear these colorful smocks, which kind of remind me the bajas people used to wear.  So swarms of people, guns, and dancing.  Eventually though the king is led in procession back to the palace, before the sun sets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were invited in the palace, which is like a very large compound of huts.  Each wife has her own hut.  We head home after this, very happy we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT we knew it wasn't over, the dancing will continue all night long, Christy #1 and I return around 8 pm, we again get the royal treatment, and end up in chairs sitting with the chiefs!  And by God's providence, the swarms of children that are attracted to us, kept us out of reach for the drummers and dancers to come for coins.  We stayed for another 2 hours, seeing all the traditional instruments and dancing.  It was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We learned that when the sun rises, the king will come back out and bless those who are there.  We had to round at the hospital at 7:30am, but Christy #1 and I got back up there around 6am.  We unfortunately missed seeing the king, but we did get in more dancing.  This time we didn't get pushed to the front, but we were given a bench to stand on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, two of the times we made it to town, we were picked up by cars!  Christy and I found this so funny because almost no one owns a car in Nalerigu.  Granted many out of towners came for the festival, but of the maybe two cars in Nalerigu, we got free rides from both!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was such a fun surprise because we had no idea what to expect!  And it is nothing like any festival I've been to in America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS For the past 2 hours I have attempted to load a short video clip to no avail, I will have to settle for a picture.  I owe you more in the future.  I do have nice clips of the dancing and drumming, maybe when I get back to the states I can load it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-5581802314128348146?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/5581802314128348146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=5581802314128348146' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/5581802314128348146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/5581802314128348146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/damba.html' title='Damba!!!'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R-LvITsE_hI/AAAAAAAAAI8/rRePaxnLJ8E/s72-c/IMG_0809.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2426071302540539167</id><published>2008-03-18T12:44:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T13:09:49.350-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy St. Patrick's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9_2akrcz7I/AAAAAAAAAI0/XU0v0u-Qw2c/s1600-h/IMG_0753.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9_2akrcz7I/AAAAAAAAAI0/XU0v0u-Qw2c/s200/IMG_0753.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179129032882311090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9_zt0rcz6I/AAAAAAAAAIs/PMkIHaqULEs/s1600-h/IMG_0764.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9_zt0rcz6I/AAAAAAAAAIs/PMkIHaqULEs/s200/IMG_0764.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179126065059909538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok this is a day late! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we did celebrate St. Patrick's Day here in Ghana!  The Ghanaians don't celebrate, but we did.  However, I had this patient come in with shamrocks on her dress.  I tried to explain to her that it was a holiday where I am from, I think I only confused her, but I told her she was wearing the right outfit for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top picture is of Bowa and I on his moto!  I beg him to ride me to the gate after work daily.  Bowa is one of our cooks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2426071302540539167?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2426071302540539167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2426071302540539167' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2426071302540539167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2426071302540539167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/happy-st-patricks-day.html' title='Happy St. Patrick&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9_2akrcz7I/AAAAAAAAAI0/XU0v0u-Qw2c/s72-c/IMG_0753.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-4718582249717631803</id><published>2008-03-18T12:24:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T12:44:44.198-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning up messes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9_wc0rcz5I/AAAAAAAAAIk/dWWwXWWvlTY/s1600-h/IMG_0769.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9_wc0rcz5I/AAAAAAAAAIk/dWWwXWWvlTY/s200/IMG_0769.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179122474467250066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing this hospital almost specializes in is cleaning up messes by other hospitals.  When a patient visits a government hospital here, to get any kind of care, the patient must pay up front.  That is not possible for many patients.  They end up staying at the hospital, not getting treated, usually allowing the condition to get worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I performed an incision and debridement with Dr. Hewitt on such a patient.  She had fallen in a gutter, causing an infection in her leg.  She spent the last 5 days at another hospital, receiving no treatment because she could not pay.  People have to pay up front here for elective surgery and many procedures, but all emergencies we treat first.  And if a patient absolutely could not pay, they do have "special needs" which helps find money for the patient.  We were forced to cut open a huge chunk of her leg, basically from mid-thigh down to her ankle.  There was necrotic, pussy tissue everywhere. It was nasty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you can't see in that picture is that when we opened her up, the pus pockets went all the way up her thigh.  The only way to get the infection out here is to open them up, then continue to debride them every few days.  You also can't see in the picture how smelly of a process this is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are cases where we have to clean up accidental messes of another facility.  A 3 yo male had a tourniquet placed on his right arm for some procedure, the staff never remembered to take it off.  Dr. Faile was forced to amputate the hand.  It's a big deal here to not have a right hand, because they eat with their right hands here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-4718582249717631803?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/4718582249717631803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=4718582249717631803' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/4718582249717631803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/4718582249717631803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/cleaning-up-messes.html' title='Cleaning up messes'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9_wc0rcz5I/AAAAAAAAAIk/dWWwXWWvlTY/s72-c/IMG_0769.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2527571636867305721</id><published>2008-03-16T15:11:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T15:27:14.335-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Zippity-do-da</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91zlErcz4I/AAAAAAAAAIc/7fElviqebm4/s1600-h/IMG_0726.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91zlErcz4I/AAAAAAAAAIc/7fElviqebm4/s200/IMG_0726.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178422227294277506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91yHUrcz3I/AAAAAAAAAIU/_MhWVB9q678/s1600-h/IMG_0724.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91yHUrcz3I/AAAAAAAAAIU/_MhWVB9q678/s200/IMG_0724.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178420616681541490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hewitts have a zipline at their house.  Christy and I checked it out on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two ways to get on.  One is from the ground, you jump up and sit on, then you get pulled to the top.  The second is from a tree, Christy tried it.  It was a little too high for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2527571636867305721?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2527571636867305721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2527571636867305721' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2527571636867305721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2527571636867305721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/zippity-do-da.html' title='Zippity-do-da'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91zlErcz4I/AAAAAAAAAIc/7fElviqebm4/s72-c/IMG_0726.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2833308310615742710</id><published>2008-03-16T14:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T15:10:59.738-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Cute Patients</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91wpUrcz2I/AAAAAAAAAIM/L9GakCelSZo/s1600-h/IMG_0346.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91wpUrcz2I/AAAAAAAAAIM/L9GakCelSZo/s200/IMG_0346.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178419001773838178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91vHErcz1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/_KzreyUsdPA/s1600-h/IMG_0707.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91vHErcz1I/AAAAAAAAAIE/_KzreyUsdPA/s200/IMG_0707.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178417313851690834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2833308310615742710?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2833308310615742710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2833308310615742710' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2833308310615742710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2833308310615742710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/two-cute-patients.html' title='Two Cute Patients'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91wpUrcz2I/AAAAAAAAAIM/L9GakCelSZo/s72-c/IMG_0346.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3410725805480240801</id><published>2008-03-16T14:44:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T14:58:23.851-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91sIkrczzI/AAAAAAAAAH0/4G9GbrJPbBc/s1600-h/IMG_0699.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91sIkrczzI/AAAAAAAAAH0/4G9GbrJPbBc/s200/IMG_0699.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178414041086611250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This little girl got hit by a cow.  But I stitched her up, and she's ok now.  The funny thing was that I was  really hot, and the clean procedure room has AC, so the staff turned on the AC for me.  However she FROZE!  She was shivering at the end.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91tG0rcz0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/rC1VGkpEu5g/s1600-h/IMG_0701.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91tG0rcz0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/rC1VGkpEu5g/s200/IMG_0701.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178415110533467970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3410725805480240801?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3410725805480240801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3410725805480240801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3410725805480240801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3410725805480240801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/some-pictures.html' title='Some pictures'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R91sIkrczzI/AAAAAAAAAH0/4G9GbrJPbBc/s72-c/IMG_0699.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-6794106852210322109</id><published>2008-03-15T13:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T09:32:29.117-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a need, a need for speed</title><content type='html'>Dad should not read this! :-P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone rides motos here (motorcycles).  And I have wanted to ride one....and last night was the night.  It wasn't exactly how I imagined my first moto ride was going to be, but I'll take what I can get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on call last night, and at 3am the doorbell goes off.  The nurse says a guy had some kind of accident, and I needed to go the hospital.  She hitched a ride on a moto, so she leaves.  I get dressed and start walking up.  I get to the Failes and realize there is a moto coming my way.  The guy came back to pick me up.  I quickly explain that I have never been on a moto before, he goes that's ok.  I climb on, he shows me where my feet go.  Then says we'll drive really slow.  He meant it too, I don't think we hit 10 MPH.  So I wasn't exactly a speed demon.  BUT I think I have convinced each of the cooks that they should take me, so hopefully there will be more moto rides in my future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, the patient I was going to see had his gun explode.  He took off part of 3 of his fingers and had some other lacerations.  I sutured up a little, but decided it wasn't the right time to try my first amputation.  He wasn't bleeding badly, so we wrapped him up.  Then this morning I had assistance to do my first amputations.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-6794106852210322109?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/6794106852210322109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=6794106852210322109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6794106852210322109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6794106852210322109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-have-need-need-for-speed.html' title='I have a need, a need for speed'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-5183329450672561384</id><published>2008-03-14T16:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T16:23:13.830-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Skirt vs Bike</title><content type='html'>This  is Foster standing on a termite hill.  These things are all over Ghana.  Sometimes they take over whole trees.  This has nothing to do with my next story, but I like the picture.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9rckErczyI/AAAAAAAAAHs/xq8SQdotyXg/s1600-h/IMG_0562.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9rckErczyI/AAAAAAAAAHs/xq8SQdotyXg/s200/IMG_0562.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177693233905192738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Christy #2 and I wanted to quickly go to market on our lunch break.  The Failes had generously let us borrow their bikes to speed up the process.  We are supposed to wear skirts to go to market.  So I change into my skirt, and I'm already thinking can you ride a bike in a skirt?  I should have known better.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get on the bike with my skirt on to head to the house.  I feel like it's going to get caught, but I get there fine.  On the way back to the hospital though, the skirt got completely tangled in the chain.  So I get off the bike, but I am unable to free up the skirt.  I'm yanking on it and it's doing nothing.  No one is at the house, so I decide I will just have to try to walk up towards the hospital with the bike attached to my skirt.  The pedals wouldn't work with my skirt stuck in there.  It was kind of an akward walk, the skirt now caught how it was, didn't leave me alot of room to take steps.  Christy Lee sees me from afar, giving me the what's up look?  Then she realizes how stuck I am, and breaks out laughing.  So she tries to free me, unsuccessfully.  Let me add, she wanted me to take my skirt off at some point, she's yanking on it.  I'm trying to hold the skirt up, citing immodesty.  We are close to the Faile's house, and I suggest, let's just get Dr. Faile.  But Christy is like NO, there's some Ghanian boys coming, they can help.  I'm mortified, and she's trying to get their attention, she's like it'll be even more funny if they help.  Amused they come over to assist the helpless white girl.  They FREE me!!!  So off I go again, after Christy tucked my skirt under me so it wouldn't get stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christy #2 and I make it to market, get what we came for, and head home.  Of course, my skirt gets stuck again.  I really really don't want to repeat the earlier scene, especially being in town.  As white people, we attract plenty of attention without having my skirt caught in the bike.  I'm imploring Christy #2 to rip the skirt, so she obliges.  It wasn't torn badly.  We finally make it home, laughing hysterically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be warned: Long flowing skirts and bikes do NOT mix!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-5183329450672561384?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/5183329450672561384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=5183329450672561384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/5183329450672561384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/5183329450672561384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/skirt-vs-bike.html' title='Skirt vs Bike'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9rckErczyI/AAAAAAAAAHs/xq8SQdotyXg/s72-c/IMG_0562.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-1328549784197375926</id><published>2008-03-12T15:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T16:01:33.789-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9g0HkrczxI/AAAAAAAAAHk/D1ngRXQUt8M/s1600-h/IMG_0659.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9g0HkrczxI/AAAAAAAAAHk/D1ngRXQUt8M/s200/IMG_0659.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176945076372033298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday was a day of thanksgiving, that just extended into today.  I had three answers to prayer, all so small, and yet so large to me.  Then when I thought that was pretty cool, it got even better....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I had been missing fruit, fresh fruit.  It's the dry season here, so we can get fruit but it's not very good.  Christy, my roommate, had gone to Burkina Faso over the weekend, and brought me back mangoes and oranges!  We've been devouring them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, you know I'm a northern girl, and this heat gets to me.  All I ever hear about it how much hotter it will still get.  Yesterday I was on my way to market, and I realized there were clouds coming in!  What a nice break!  Just breaking up the direct sunlight, did so much to lift my spirits!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home, and Yisah had taken out REAL butter!  Hallelujah!  Who knew you could miss butter, but you can.  And I didn't even realize I was missing it, until I had a chance at the real thing!  It was actually Christy's butter, but she let us use it!  YUMMY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was already really thankful with these three blessings, but the Lord had something even greater in store......those clouds were RAIN CLOUDS!  Yes sir, we got a thunder and lightening storm last night complete with rain!  The dust went down today, and it was still overcast.  The Ghanians are a bit cold, but the northern chick is perfect!  I'm guessing it's probably in the mid to high 70's.  Very comfortable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we have the final big BIG blessing!  I got word today, that one of my best friends, Tamar, delivered a healthy baby boy!  Welcome to the world David!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-1328549784197375926?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/1328549784197375926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=1328549784197375926' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1328549784197375926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1328549784197375926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/praise-god-from-whom-all-blessings-flow.html' title='Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9g0HkrczxI/AAAAAAAAAHk/D1ngRXQUt8M/s72-c/IMG_0659.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-4612258834255830179</id><published>2008-03-11T16:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T16:35:47.266-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Crayola Crayons</title><content type='html'>I'm not on my computer, so I can't attempt to post pictures.  Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did an incision and debridement (I&amp;amp;D) the other day on a little girl.  The girl screamed bloody murder for the whole thing.  We have lidocaine here and ketamine, I don't remember why we didn't use ketamine, but from the sounds of her screams the local was doing nothing.  People have a high pain tolerance here, sometimes yell, but this was bad.  Dr. Faile held her hand through the whole thing, and I just felt miserable inflicting this pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to give her something, so I broke out a pack of crayons and a coloring book, thinking I just want to ease this kid's pain.  Well the gesture was nice and all, except that she didn't know what crayons were.  She also spoke a different language, so it basically took half the day to find someone to try to explain what crayons were and that they were hers.  I demonstrated for her.  I think she got it by the end, because the next day she had colored some of the pictures in the book.  I'm not sure she realizes it's a gift for her, I get the feeling she's waiting for me to come back for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christy and I were just talking about how something an American child would find so commonplace is foreign over here.  A pen is something an adult is allowed to use, but not for a child's use.  There are definitely no mounds of toys piled in a corner of a hut.  When you do get a child to draw a picture, it's like a toddler drew it because they haven't had extra paper and pencils and things to just draw.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-4612258834255830179?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/4612258834255830179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=4612258834255830179' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/4612258834255830179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/4612258834255830179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/crayola-crayons.html' title='Crayola Crayons'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-6929959275012411762</id><published>2008-03-10T17:47:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T18:10:39.801-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost in Translation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9WuW0rczwI/AAAAAAAAAHc/zMLCZqLJPn0/s1600-h/IMG_0685.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9WuW0rczwI/AAAAAAAAAHc/zMLCZqLJPn0/s200/IMG_0685.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176235053853495042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This patient has neurofibromatosis.  She needs surgery, but Dr. Faile does not think he can manage the surgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have fantastic translators here, and I would say most of the staff speaks about 5 languages.  Still there are many tribes, and people travel hundreds of miles to get to BMC, therefore, often it's still difficult to get the message across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While at Nakpanduri, we visited an American couple doing tree conservation work.  They often send patients to us.  One of the folks they sent to us to have a cleft lip repaired.  The surgery took place last week. After the surgery and recovery, the patient was supposed to go to the pharmacy and get his medicines and pay for his stay.  At some point, he was told to find the white lady in the pharmacy (Jane is a full time missionary in the pharmacy), apparently this was explained to him about 5 times.  Well the patient did find the white lady., just the wrong one. He traveled over an hour (by car) to Nakpanduri to this couple.  He even brought her his chart!  Now she is used to bizarre stuff like this happening.  She collected the chart, and had it sent back to BMC.  I guess she is the only other white lady he knows, so he did as was directed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My translator calls my patients for me (and all the other volunteers) since no one can understand us.  They call the patient and hand me the card with their medical info including the chief complaint.  So I have a guy today, whose chief complaint is "anus itching."  Laugh as you may, that isn't that crazy of a complaint here because there are alot of parasites, worms.  So my translator is talking with him, I'm asking him basic review of systems.  It seems like that is what he is here for.  So I tell him I need to peek myself, so he drops his pants, I look.  I fill out his card and send him to pharmacy.  Right then, another man comes angrily in the room, and him and my translator are going back and forth.  It turns out I was NOT seeing the patient whose name was on the card!  The patient didn't seem to mind I was looking at his rectum, made no mention of it. SO then I had to repeat the entire process with the CORRECT patient!  Here's what made it crazier for me, I never saw the first patient again.  For all I know, he wasn't even there to see a doctor, but he had no problem dropping his drawers for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daily I get a patient that prefers to sit on the floor instead of the chair.  I can't figure that one out either.  Actually today (granted this patient was being admitted), but she decided to just lay on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy picks up and drops off many people on his way to and from church weekly.  His basic rule is that mom's with young children can sit in the cab, and everyone is outside.  Why is that the rule?  Mainly for practicality, most of the people around here cannot figure out how to open a car door.  Tommy says after awhile it's just too cumbersome to always be opening the doors for them.  I didn't get it at first, until I watched our mom's get stuck in the truck, every one of them.  At least 10-15 times a day in clinic, my translator either has to instruct a patient on opening the door, or just go open it for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patients are not used to stethoscopes at all, so when you ask them to breath, they basically hyperventilate, and you frantically try to listen everywhere before you make them faint. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't there alot we take for granted???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-6929959275012411762?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/6929959275012411762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=6929959275012411762' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6929959275012411762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6929959275012411762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/lost-in-translation.html' title='Lost in Translation'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9WuW0rczwI/AAAAAAAAAHc/zMLCZqLJPn0/s72-c/IMG_0685.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-1155573086961668175</id><published>2008-03-10T17:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T17:47:19.213-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nakpanduri Escarpement</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9WrykrczvI/AAAAAAAAAHU/UQLw9s_wkfQ/s1600-h/IMG_0619.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9WrykrczvI/AAAAAAAAAHU/UQLw9s_wkfQ/s200/IMG_0619.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176232232059981554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9WoWErcztI/AAAAAAAAAHE/_D7v1HSrnQ0/s1600-h/IMG_0646.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9WoWErcztI/AAAAAAAAAHE/_D7v1HSrnQ0/s200/IMG_0646.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176228443898826450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday Elisabeth Faile took Christy #2, Cindy, and myself to Nakpanduri.  (Christy Lee is my roommate and another 4th year med student, Christy #2 is a 3rd year surgical resident from TN.  Both have the same initials, so we just refer to her as # 2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Escarpement is a beautiful set of cliffs, with views all the way into Burkina Faso, if it wasn't the Harmatten.  It has alot of views that make you think, yes I am in Africa.  There are all these great boulders on top, that Christy and I climbed all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elisabeth then drove us down to the river, where I took the picture above, if the pictures could load faster I have a great picture of the road.  It would not meet US standards by any means.  On the way back up we picked up two guys walking along side the road (this is a very common practice here, in fact you are quite rude to not do it), and they gave Christy and I some tomatoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also learned how Shea Butter is made from a Shea tree.  It's quite the process, so be thankful the next time you put on lotion with shea butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christy #2 and I had gone with Tommy to church in the morning, so I now have completed his 3 village Sunday circuit (he is going back to the US this week, so I wanted to enjoy the time I could go with him).  Church was great, what wasn't as great is that I had been very good about putting suntan lotion on, until yesterday!  I remembered before Nakpanduri, but I already got a little burned from church with Tommy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-1155573086961668175?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/1155573086961668175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=1155573086961668175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1155573086961668175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1155573086961668175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/nakpanduri-escarpement.html' title='Nakpanduri Escarpement'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9WrykrczvI/AAAAAAAAAHU/UQLw9s_wkfQ/s72-c/IMG_0619.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2708951458838568838</id><published>2008-03-09T16:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T17:07:10.465-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe It's Maybeline</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9RPQErczsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/m8CdJSRsJE8/s1600-h/IMG_0195.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9RPQErczsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/m8CdJSRsJE8/s200/IMG_0195.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175849009308028610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I asked in a post a few days ago (likely over a week ago), what was in the picture?  There were some rocks and some spools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's mascara or more like eye liner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men and women wear it here.  I believe they grind up the rocks, and then somehow use the spool to apply it to their eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried in the picture above to show you the eye liner, it's not a fantastic picture of that.  But it is a great picture of a chew stick, what is hanging out her mouth.  Basically, it's the African toothbrush, they use it daily.  It can be any stick from what I gathered during my short dentistry career.  Dr. Fuller, in his 20+ years, going to villages here, has found the farther from civilization, the better the teeth.  Go figure.  So the chew sticks must work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can see little feet sticking out from behind her.  Everyone carries babies this way around here.  I keep trying to get a woman to let me borrow her baby and let me carry it like that, but so far it's been lost in translation.  They seem amused that I like how she carries her child, and then demonstrates the process, but I don't think they grasp that I want to try.  Trust me they let me try everything else, and hand over their babies easily, so it really is just lost in translation so far.  It seems to work rather well, until they pee on you.  (No diapers in Ghana)  You quickly learn to grab some kind of cloth mom has nearby, whenever you pick up a child.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2708951458838568838?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2708951458838568838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2708951458838568838' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2708951458838568838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2708951458838568838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/maybe-its-maybeline.html' title='Maybe It&apos;s Maybeline'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9RPQErczsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/m8CdJSRsJE8/s72-c/IMG_0195.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-167815586003267267</id><published>2008-03-09T16:04:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T16:43:03.040-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Huts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9RG30rczrI/AAAAAAAAAG0/sLhxxfZCV9E/s1600-h/IMG_0566.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9RG30rczrI/AAAAAAAAAG0/sLhxxfZCV9E/s200/IMG_0566.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175839796603178674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I did skip over some basics about where I live, so here's one attempt to catch you up.  I was asked what people live in here.  The answer is most live in huts in a compound.  A compound may have 4 or more huts, with walls connecting the huts, and an enclosed courtyard in the middle.  As you can see most huts have straw roofs, some have tin.  They have these other huts they use to store their food, that are raised off the ground.  I've been to some very comfortable looking huts.  Although it is changing, for the most part, the extended family can live in one compound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not live in a hut.  I live in a very Americanized house on the BMC compound.  I have running water, a toilet, a washer and dryer, stove, etc.  We have three cooks that feed and take care of us, they are Caleb, Yisah, and Bowa.  We are fed well, mainly on American type food.  I do miss things like butter (they have their own version, but it's nothing like what we use in the US, in fact you don't have to refrigerate it, it's rather scary looking), milk (they have powdered here), and fruit and veggies.   There are tons of fruit and veggies here, but for the most part unless they are cooked, I can't eat them (due to the water being unsafe).  What we get that is excellent, Bowa makes the most excellent bread and even more delicious tortillas for tacos.  In fact, his tortillas are my all time favorite.  And we end up with about 2 cakes a week.  Christy, my roommate, says that if the cake does not have icing, we can call it a muffin, and therefore it can be eaten for breakfast! :-) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My house is about a quarter mile from the hospital.  We have use of a truck, but I don't get along with the truck, so I avoid it (that could be a whole other posting about me dealing with the truck).  Then from our house, it is a short walk to the schoolhouse.  It's at the schoolhouse I can get internet, as well as satellite television.  There is a path between our house and the schoolhouse, but we are advised to only use it during the daylight hours, at night there could be snakes, so we take the road instead.  I nightly encounter some kind of animals, mainly bush rats and lizards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nalerigu has electricity, but it often goes out.  During some parts of the year, there are continual rolling blackouts.  On the compound, it's not an issue, we have backup generators that immediately kick in.  Basically, we notice the lights flicker occasionally (ok more like daily), but we always have electricity.  We are even more spoiled, because they outfitted our house with American plugs, so although I brought 2 converters, I haven't used them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best thing I brought with me was my headlamp.  I haven't figured out why, but it is DARK here at night, I mean much darker than at home!  I use my headlamp DAILY! See dad, I told you I needed the headlamp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-167815586003267267?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/167815586003267267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=167815586003267267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/167815586003267267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/167815586003267267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/huts.html' title='Huts'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R9RG30rczrI/AAAAAAAAAG0/sLhxxfZCV9E/s72-c/IMG_0566.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-5332065830389540509</id><published>2008-03-09T15:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T16:04:25.267-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Funeral Practices</title><content type='html'>Last week, the husband of a BMC nurse died.  It was actually the nurse, who helped me find a seamstress to sew my dress.  I know I have only been here a few weeks, but this nurse had been very kind and generous to me, so I did feel the sorrow of her loss.  Anyways it has given me access to some funeral practices here.  I still don't fully understand the entire process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as possible there is a wake, similar to the United States, except held at the deceased household, then comes the burial.  All of this can happen in a matter of days, but the actual funeral depends on the finances of the family and time of year.  Funerals are held during this the dry season.  During the rainy season, everyone is working on their farms, and do not have time to go to a funeral.  Then if the family does not have the finances for the funeral, it can be put off for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went with the missionaries to visit Joyce, the nurse, today.  She was at her family's compound.  As a new widow, she is put in a hut (generously it was probably 5 by 10), and she cannot leave for the next week.  The only times she can leave would be to use the toilet, but she must be accompanied by another widow.  Next weekend, there will be a ceremony with drums and dancing, during which Joyce will have her head shaved (she has long beautiful braids right now).  I believe at that time, her dress will change from black to white. The head shaving can only be performed if the wife has been faithful to the husband during the marriage.  Her hair will then be buried next to her husband.  I believe they are holding the funeral next weekend too, which is an event that will last a few days.  At some point the funeral turns into a large celebration, but I'm not exactly sure when that is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then in a year there is another ceremony that is performed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said, funerals all happen in the dry season, so it also happens that one of our cooks, Caleb, was also holding a funeral at his house all week.  For the past few nights, we have gone to sleep to the sounds of drumming and celebratory music, all coming from his compound.  He invited me to attend, but unfortunately I was on call.  His tribe is the one with the cowies (what I refer to as the African answer to the thigh master), so he's been shaking his cowies alot over the last week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-5332065830389540509?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/5332065830389540509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=5332065830389540509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/5332065830389540509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/5332065830389540509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/funeral-practices.html' title='Funeral Practices'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7381597365817831740</id><published>2008-03-07T17:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T17:14:41.492-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I see a donkey</title><content type='html'>I have a thing for cheesy little songs, my roommate taught me one she learned here.  Here's the words to the entire song:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a donkey,&lt;br /&gt;A donkey follows me.&lt;br /&gt;Hee-haw, hee-haw,&lt;br /&gt;Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the schoolchildren sing it here, and we can get Yisah, our cook, to sing with us, but now I'm kind of starting to think it's the Ghana equivalent of Row, Row, Row your boat or something like that.  Christy and I are coming back from the mountain, and these boys were bringing firewood home on a donkey cart.  Christy and I start singing the donkey song (because after all the donkey was pulling the cart), and the boys join in!  It was too cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I got a nurse to sing it in the wards, like a guy probably 30-ish.  I took a patient back to his bed after a procedure today, and he started singing it.  It might replace the beaver song, it's a catchy little tune!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7381597365817831740?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7381597365817831740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7381597365817831740' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7381597365817831740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7381597365817831740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-see-donkey.html' title='I see a donkey'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-110374773356522404</id><published>2008-03-07T16:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T16:54:00.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Independence Day</title><content type='html'>***This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but as I posted one comment yesterday, the lights started to flicker (it means the electricity went off in town, but on the compound we have backup generators), and the internet went out.  It turned out to be in God's perfect timing because as I was leaving the schoolhouse, a moto drove up to tell us they needed everyone at the hospital for a lorry (truck) accident with 15 people hurt.  That's how things work around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Internet won't let me post pictures tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday was Ghana's Independence Day!  Did you remember to celebrate?  51 years they have been broken away from England.  It's not celebrated as widely as say the 4th of July.  But they have "marches," and most people get the day off.  I work at a hospital, so hospitals never get the day off, but we did get out early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also happens to be Dr. Faile's-the founder of BMC-birthday!  He is deceased, and it is his son whom I work with now.  But they have this bust of Dr. Faile senior in front the hospital, and it kind of makes March 6th a more special day at BMC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, you know like most of the world in Ghana when they list a date they put the day first, then month, then year.  So March 6th, 2008 would be 6/3/2008.....and that is also a VERY SPECIAL DAY!  Does anyone know why????  I can see Erica rolling her eyes from here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christy and I decided to go climb the "mountain."  I use the term mountain very loosely, it's much more like a hill.  Anyways, it does overlook all of Nalerigu.  Christy had brought walkie-talkies, and so we left one back at the house with our cook, Yisah, because he was worried we would get lost or find a waifu (snake), neither of which happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We crossed the river that borders Nalerigu, tons of kids were swimming and women washing clothes.  Supposedly there are multiple crocodiles in the river, so you won't be finding me swimming there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had brought along my newest amusement, a slingshot.  I bought 3 at the market for a grand total of 30 cents!  I broke two, but someone at the hospital fixed and upgraded it.  After a lesson or two from Yisah with candy as ammo, I can finally actually get stuff to fly, now he says my job is to kill a waifu. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no real trail to this mountain, so you kind of just weave through fields and aim for the right direction.  We didn't have the most fantastic view because the Harmattan, but we plan to go back like on Easter morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-110374773356522404?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/110374773356522404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=110374773356522404' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/110374773356522404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/110374773356522404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/happy-independence-day.html' title='Happy Independence Day'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3188988850515104778</id><published>2008-03-05T15:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T16:09:28.464-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This and That Medical Stuff</title><content type='html'>I was on call last night and ended up in surgery for a majority of the night, and then clinic all day today.  Therefore, please excuse all typos and grammatical errors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are dangerously low in our supply of anti-snake venom.  We were able to obtain 15 vials from Tamale, but we've been averaging 2-4 snakebites a night.    We could use some prayer that we get more fast.  We are forced to space out when people can get venom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I saw another side effect of snakebites.  A boy was discharged 10 days ago with a snakebite, he had a laceration on his finger, that he didn't take care of.  He had the nastiest finger today in clinic, it was amputated this afternoon.  I was unfortunately involved with debriding a leg at the time, so I didn't get to do the amputation myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also saw an ainhum today.  Yeah, what is that?  I had NO CLUE!  Thankfully, Dr. Faile did!  It's another one of those, you only see it in Africa things.  Basically the guy came in complaining of pain in his pinky toe.  I look at his toe, and it literally looked like someone had tied black thread around his toe really tight.  It was this fibrotic ring that formed, they think from some infectious origin, but the only cure is amputation (it was amputation day in clinic for me, which is a nice change, I have been stuck with alot of male genitalia cases).  It was already getting necrotic.  He was supposed to have it amputated this afternoon, but he didn't show up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also have been getting a rash of cerebral spinal meningitis cases--they are scary sick!  I've already had a few die on me.  BUT I have learned how to do a lumbar puncture myself, where you stick a big needle into the spinal canal to see if the fluid is infected.  My first one was on this 3 year old in the middle of the night, I'm not sure who came out more traumatized, me or the child--I think it was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off for some much needed rest!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3188988850515104778?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3188988850515104778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3188988850515104778' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3188988850515104778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3188988850515104778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/this-and-that-medical-stuff.html' title='This and That Medical Stuff'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3438336259619788809</id><published>2008-03-03T14:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T15:12:18.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What is it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8xa3mfvWFI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Vjk4GPPH3CA/s1600-h/IMG_0385.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8xa3mfvWFI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Vjk4GPPH3CA/s200/IMG_0385.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173609983214835794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Can anyone guess what these are?  Ignore all the circular metal things, I'm referring mainly to the rocks and the spools of string.  Go ahead and guess.  I'll give it a few days before I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8xZfGfvWEI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Nib9f1Qd9aY/s1600-h/IMG_0403.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8xZfGfvWEI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Nib9f1Qd9aY/s200/IMG_0403.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173608462796412994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a Fulani woman.  Fulani's are considered a tribe of lower socio-economic class.  Essentially they are nomads.  They have distinctive features, like her high cheekbones.  This is the first woman I met in full dress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3438336259619788809?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3438336259619788809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3438336259619788809' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3438336259619788809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3438336259619788809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-is-it.html' title='What is it?'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8xa3mfvWFI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Vjk4GPPH3CA/s72-c/IMG_0385.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7247764567798858590</id><published>2008-03-02T15:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T15:12:31.659-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A conversation</title><content type='html'>The blog is not working well, but since it is Sunday, I will share a conversation I had with Christy and Tommy Harrison (note: I previously called him Tommy Harris, but it's Harrison).  Christy and I joined Tommy again today to go to a bush church.   Church was held in the schoolhouse we stopped at last week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways on way home, we got into a conversation about how being here, it's easier to understand Bible stories.  When Paul talks about shaking off his sandals and moving on to another village, it's a completely vivid picture.  Or talking about Jesus washing people's feet, it's completely different here.  All the farming stories are easy for the people to relate to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that we don't understand the stories at home, but we don't have these nasty dusty feet at home that need to be washed or many other examples I could use.  It's more simple here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7247764567798858590?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7247764567798858590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7247764567798858590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7247764567798858590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7247764567798858590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/conversation.html' title='A conversation'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-6120268117361851642</id><published>2008-03-02T14:19:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T15:04:35.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cultural Dance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8sAFWfvWDI/AAAAAAAAAGc/8yq-SQ0UksE/s1600-h/IMG_0436.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8sAFWfvWDI/AAAAAAAAAGc/8yq-SQ0UksE/s200/IMG_0436.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173228688903198770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8r-6mfvWCI/AAAAAAAAAGU/ZRE3a2gKfGI/s1600-h/IMG_0454.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8r-6mfvWCI/AAAAAAAAAGU/ZRE3a2gKfGI/s200/IMG_0454.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173227404707977250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At Station meeting on Thursday, we met Caroline, a Peace Corps volunteer, stationed in Nalerigu.  She works at Nass, a secondary school (high school), that serves the entire Northern Region.  She teaches computers.  She invited us to come down to the school last night because they were having a cultural dance.  Christy and I took her up on her offer, and we are glad we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since everything starts on Ghanian time (late), she had time to show us the campus.  The students pay to be there, the yearly fee for room/board and tuition is around $400.  It's kind of kind a college campus in the US, but much more basic.  The "cafeteria" is basically a field, that the cooks make food over open fires in large cauldrons (in many ways, it looks like something out of Harry Potter with all the cauldrons).  The students live in very cramped dorms, they have to go to the well to get water everyday (usually a task delegated to freshman).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caroline teaches computers as I said.  The average class here is 65 students.  I believe she has 20 something old old computers.  Students sit two to a computer.  They only actually get to be in the computer room once a week.  She was given a very ambitious curriculum, it's kind of ridiculous.  Most of the children have never seen computers before, and now once a week, they share a computer.  It's a start, but the curriculum bites off alot more than the children can learn.  She intends to make up some cardboard keyboards, so they can practice typing when not in the lab.  She spends alot of time trying to fix up these old beasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She showed us this room of completely dead computers, that cannot be resurrected.  Then she told us they are donating them to the primary schools.  Why?  Well they primary schools are also required to teach computers, but they don't have any.  So these dead computers will be donated so the teachers can at least show students what a computer is supposed to look like as they teach.  It's a start.  But when you think you have an old useless computer, try teaching computer class without a computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, so we were invited to this cultural dance.  Being that students come from all over the Northern Region, several tribes are represented.  The tribes were competing doing their traditional tribal dances.  Three tribes organized to compete: Manprusi, FraFra, and I forget the last one.  The competition was held at the school "auditorium"-a dirt field.  Over 1300 students attend school, and since this was a special event, most faculty, support staff, and families of students were present.  It was dark, but you'd look out and see people everywhere, including trees just to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We, as Obruni (foreigners) and as guests of a teacher, were considered guests of honor.  We sat in chairs right behind the judges.  They actually got out of sorts, whenever Christy or I stood up to try to get a better view because I guess part of the honor is that we SIT in the provided chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top photo is African's version of the thigh master, they shook their bottoms and got those hip things moving like crazy!  The hip things are called cowies.  The bottom photo is a male dancer wearing a traditional smock, which is worn by important people (like chiefs).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christy and I really enjoyed the experience.  At the end, in the US you know someone would stand up and say how well everyone did, and that it is so difficult to pick a winner, well that's not how it works in Africa.  Instead one of the teachers says they will now tell the performers how they could improve.  Each judge proceeded with details how the dancing could have been improved. Elisabeth Faile was picking us up, so we actually never got to hear the winner announced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caroline showed us her hut on tour.  Actually she has a pretty spacious layout, with three huts and a yard to herself.  She made it quite homey.  But she also introduced us to some Ghanian candy.  Christy and I loved it!  In fact, we tried to surprise each other and separately went to the market today to get some for the other.  We both found one kind of the candy we tried, and bought each other a bag.  Now at home we have two huge bags of candy.  Guess we'll have to eat it! :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-6120268117361851642?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/6120268117361851642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=6120268117361851642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6120268117361851642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6120268117361851642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/cultural-dance.html' title='Cultural Dance'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8sAFWfvWDI/AAAAAAAAAGc/8yq-SQ0UksE/s72-c/IMG_0436.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2400758327932403431</id><published>2008-03-02T13:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T14:19:11.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'>African Dress</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8r6l2fvWBI/AAAAAAAAAGM/tUkEO4QX6FY/s1600-h/IMG_0410.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8r6l2fvWBI/AAAAAAAAAGM/tUkEO4QX6FY/s200/IMG_0410.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173222650179180562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8r5G2fvWAI/AAAAAAAAAGE/3dDhEyUDVzo/s1600-h/IMG_0482.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8r5G2fvWAI/AAAAAAAAAGE/3dDhEyUDVzo/s200/IMG_0482.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173221018091608066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is not a great deal to buy in Nalerigu, but bright vibrant African fabrics are readily available.  It's cheap to have a seamstress make a dress.  I knew before I arrived, I wanted an authentic African dress.  I had been talking with nurses during clinic about what kind of dress I wanted, we had alot of fun with me taking pictures of my patient's in dresses I liked.  The nurse's granddaughter was as seamstress, and a friend sold fabric. So yesterday I was off to find fabric and go to the seamstress.  The most expensive part of the dress is the fabric, which costs around $13.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrive at the seamstress, I showed them the dress (of course, it took awhile because they are completely fascinated by cameras, so I take pictures of them, and show them, then I have to find the picture on my camera of the dress), they took my measurements, and told me I could have the dress by MONDAY!  It cost about $6 for them to make the dress, add the liner to the dress, and for the lace.  That doesn't happen in the United States. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I'm eating breakfast, when there is a knock at the door, my dress was done!  Not 24 hours after I ordered it.  The result is above!  I'm pleased!  I know it's not exactly the height of fashion in the US, but it's very typical for around here.  They also made me a wrap to go with it, but we can't get it on me correctly.  It's warmer than the skirts I have, but I do plan to wear it to church while I'm here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2400758327932403431?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2400758327932403431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2400758327932403431' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2400758327932403431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2400758327932403431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/african-dress.html' title='African Dress'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8r6l2fvWBI/AAAAAAAAAGM/tUkEO4QX6FY/s72-c/IMG_0410.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-8676897629893553634</id><published>2008-03-01T12:10:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T12:37:48.007-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Viewer Discretion Strongly Advised</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mREWfvV_I/AAAAAAAAAF8/weBzbRcWUv4/s1600-h/IMG_0216.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do struggle with how many pictures to show you of my work.  I know many of you viewing this blog are not doctors, although a fair number are training to be doctors.  This is the work that I do.  I get strongly conflicting feedback either requesting more pictures or no pictures.  So I apologize.  I am trying to edit what graphic material I do post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mREWfvV_I/AAAAAAAAAF8/weBzbRcWUv4/s1600-h/IMG_0216.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mREWfvV_I/AAAAAAAAAF8/weBzbRcWUv4/s200/IMG_0216.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172825150955935730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a baby who was burned, but I'm not sure by what.  Burns are frequent here.  This child does not represent the typical story, which is walking onto fire.  People burn their trash here, and often dig pits to put the trash in, then burn it.  A child may see something they want, not realizing it is a deep fire pit and then burn his/her feet.  The worst is then as the child panics, they put their hands down in the fire, or worse yet is when they start sinking into it.  This child is being prepped for a skin graft.  You might note, that we are not in an operating theater for this procedure, it's simply a procedure room they'll do the graft in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mP8GfvV-I/AAAAAAAAAF0/LTpfNf6r3bM/s1600-h/IMG_0210.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mP8GfvV-I/AAAAAAAAAF0/LTpfNf6r3bM/s200/IMG_0210.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172823909710387170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is an incision and drainage of a knee, I'm performing.  That is all pus that you see in the bowl being held under the knee.  Basically, we put a needle in and aspirate, if we get pus, then we make an incision and attempt to drain all the pus out, pack it, give antibiotics, and send them back to the wards to be monitored.  It's amazing how much pus we have gotten out of some of these wounds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-8676897629893553634?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/8676897629893553634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=8676897629893553634' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/8676897629893553634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/8676897629893553634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/viewer-discretion-strongly-advised.html' title='Viewer Discretion Strongly Advised'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mREWfvV_I/AAAAAAAAAF8/weBzbRcWUv4/s72-c/IMG_0216.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3351708948396789581</id><published>2008-03-01T11:37:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T12:09:24.532-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Waifu</title><content type='html'>At Uncle Paul's request...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mI1WfvV9I/AAAAAAAAAFs/dV9na9w5lzg/s1600-h/IMG_0398.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mI1WfvV9I/AAAAAAAAAFs/dV9na9w5lzg/s200/IMG_0398.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172816097164875730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a photo I took of a dead carpet viper a patient brought in.  It was about a foot long.  People generally have one of two stories about how they got bitten.  The first is that they were simply walking on a path and were bitten on their foot.  The second (and very common) is that a common game for little boys to play is stick your hand in a hole.  Basically little boys go around sticking their hands in holes to see what they can find, maybe a bush rat, maybe nothing, and maybe a waifu (snake). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In general, the actual bite site is not impressive.  In fact, I don't think I've taken any pictures because there really isn't much to show.  The affected limb starts to swell, usually with what looks to be cramping in the limb (trying to get that translated is an issue, but that is what it looks like).  We either tie arm to an IV pole to keep it elevated, or raise the foot, to help bring the swelling down.  Immediately a clotting time is drawn on the patient because the venom's deadliest quality is that it affects the ability of the blood to clot, it disrupts the bodies clotting cascade.  I just spoke with Dr. Hewitt, who said he has an article on how it affects the blood and how the anti-venom works, so I might be a little more educated in a few days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So pretty much universally the blood won't clot because of the snake venom, at that point the nurse finds a doctor and we order ASV (anti-snake venom).  I'm not exactly sure how the ASV works, Dr. Hewitt's article will hopefully clear that up.  It likely either binds to the venom, inactivating it, or competes with the venom for binding sites on the proteins it affects in the clotting cascade.  We then order another clotting time to be done about 12 hours later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depending upon how fast the patient gets to the hospital after the snakebite and other factors, sometimes one dose will be enough to correct them.  Some though can go through several doses before their blood clots, Dr. Faile said the upper limit is 10 vials of ASV.  We keep them at the hospital until they have had at least 2 successive blood draws that clot.  It is frequent for them to have one that clots, and then the next one doesn't clot, so you have to go back and give more ASV.  ASV has to be refrigerated, and it seems most bites come in during the night.  All the doctors and at the guest house, we keep a supply of ASV, so when we are woken up in the night, we just go get them the ASV and write the order to give it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are heading in snake season because it was explained to me, the snakes get too hot in their holes.  So they come out near paths, and then people walking down the path get bitten.  Since no one (except us Obruni--white people/foreigner) use flashlights, and because the the snake blends in well with the path, it is very easy to come across one unexpectedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, they do eat snake around here.  However, not usually the carpet viper.  They usually eat cobra.  Yesah, one of the cooks at the guest house, is known for cooking us waifu, if the opportunity presents itself. (it has not so far)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am horrible at speaking Manpruli, the main tribal language here, but waifu (snake) is one of the first words I learned. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that satisfied you Uncle Paul!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3351708948396789581?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3351708948396789581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3351708948396789581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3351708948396789581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3351708948396789581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/waifu.html' title='Waifu'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mI1WfvV9I/AAAAAAAAAFs/dV9na9w5lzg/s72-c/IMG_0398.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-1279318574273831113</id><published>2008-03-01T11:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T11:34:17.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random photos from work</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mDqGfvV8I/AAAAAAAAAFk/CVnw8z6iBbw/s1600-h/IMG_0377.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mDqGfvV8I/AAAAAAAAAFk/CVnw8z6iBbw/s200/IMG_0377.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172810406333208514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is me removing a large lipoma on man's chest.  A lipoma is a benign fatty tumor, it was larger than a golf ball, but smaller than an orange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mCW2fvV7I/AAAAAAAAAFc/hs8BpGHRB78/s1600-h/IMG_0399.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mCW2fvV7I/AAAAAAAAAFc/hs8BpGHRB78/s200/IMG_0399.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172808976109098930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This child is thought to have Hirschsprung's disease, a disease that causes a pseudo-obstruction of the intestines.  This would be fixed shortly after birth in the US, but that is not possible here.  His belly is that big because his intestines are very dilated proximal to the obstruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mA42fvV6I/AAAAAAAAAFU/RaHCMecy1gA/s1600-h/Ghana001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mA42fvV6I/AAAAAAAAAFU/RaHCMecy1gA/s200/Ghana001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172807361201395618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A woman with a double thumb&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-1279318574273831113?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/1279318574273831113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=1279318574273831113' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1279318574273831113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1279318574273831113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/random-photos-from-work.html' title='Random photos from work'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8mDqGfvV8I/AAAAAAAAAFk/CVnw8z6iBbw/s72-c/IMG_0377.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7665587355952231091</id><published>2008-03-01T10:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T11:09:36.209-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dust vs Heat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8l9gGfvV5I/AAAAAAAAAFM/PBwls7Q7Rmg/s1600-h/IMG_0414.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8l9gGfvV5I/AAAAAAAAAFM/PBwls7Q7Rmg/s200/IMG_0414.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172803637464749970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I first arrived in Ghana, I thought it was hot, but surprisingly barable.  It was definitely hotter and more humid in Accra than in Nalerigu, and that is because of something called the Harmattan.  The Harmattan is a wind that blows from the northeast, bringing dust from the Sahara.  It greatly reduced visibility.  It kept the temperatures down, but the trade off was all the dust.  Everything everywhere was constantly coated in a layer of reddish dust.  It was a losing battle to try to rid your things of dust.  Literally, daily everything would get covered with a new layer of dust.  You take a shower and come out 2-3 shades lighter than when you got in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the past week, the Harmattan winds have greatly reduced, and with that the temperatures have soared upwards.  According to some folks with thermometers, we've already hit 120 on occasions.  It's HOT!  I don't think white northern girls are meant for this weather!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't quite decided which I dislike more.  With the Harmattan winds, we all had constant cold like symptoms from all the dust.  Now we just roast like we are in an oven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's still dusty.  The picture of above was taken this morning, after I did rounds and made one errand in town.  That's not a tan on my feet, it's all dust.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7665587355952231091?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7665587355952231091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7665587355952231091' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7665587355952231091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7665587355952231091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/03/dust-vs-heat.html' title='Dust vs Heat'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8l9gGfvV5I/AAAAAAAAAFM/PBwls7Q7Rmg/s72-c/IMG_0414.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2905350501830072866</id><published>2008-02-29T14:44:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T15:03:57.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Babies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8hkZGfvV4I/AAAAAAAAAFE/fTsGt3xHl5Q/s1600-h/IMG_0372.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8hkZGfvV4I/AAAAAAAAAFE/fTsGt3xHl5Q/s200/IMG_0372.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172494554438260610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dr. Faile and Christy Lee (4th year med student)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8hjCGfvV3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/nTMQ1cvIhVE/s1600-h/IMG_0356.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8hjCGfvV3I/AAAAAAAAAE8/nTMQ1cvIhVE/s200/IMG_0356.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172493059789641586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dr. Faile delivering a baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8hiAmfvV2I/AAAAAAAAAE0/Y9-zp4wjprw/s1600-h/IMG_0348.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8hiAmfvV2I/AAAAAAAAAE0/Y9-zp4wjprw/s200/IMG_0348.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172491934508210018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The triplets.  To keep the track of which triplet is which, the first has nothing on her hand.  The second one to be delivered as a string bracelet wrapped once around her wrist.  The last to be born has the string bracelet wrapped three times.  It's quite a blessing here that not only were they delivered safely, but they are surprisingly large and healthy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2905350501830072866?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2905350501830072866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2905350501830072866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2905350501830072866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2905350501830072866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/babies.html' title='Babies'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8hkZGfvV4I/AAAAAAAAAFE/fTsGt3xHl5Q/s72-c/IMG_0372.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2243277577841797813</id><published>2008-02-28T16:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T17:03:50.570-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TRIPLETS!</title><content type='html'>Sorry, I've been busy this week.  I'm having difficulty getting my pictures to load! :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have seen a lot of death here.  BUT this week, I thankfully have been enjoying the start of life!  Dr. Faile delivered via C-section a set of triplets!  In all of his time here, he said this was a first for him.  All girls, and all looking quite pink, healthy, and cute!  I will admit I've missed the actual C-section, but I've been to 2 other C-sections this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm getting more skittish about waifu (manpruli for snake).  They tell me it's NOT snake season, yet we are treating so many snakebites.  And just for my edification, one of the patients brought in the dead waifu to show me.  People are bitten by carpet vipers and cobras around here.  The venom causes the patient's blood to not clot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm becoming a budding surgeon around here.  Today I took out a large lipoma myself (a benign fatty tumor).  And I know by the time I get back, I will be an expert at incision and drainage of abscesses of any sort and any kind. I really wish my pictures would load, because I have great pictures of all the above mentioned things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2243277577841797813?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2243277577841797813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2243277577841797813' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2243277577841797813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2243277577841797813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/triplets.html' title='TRIPLETS!'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-4295421833507299206</id><published>2008-02-25T16:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T16:25:19.991-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Medical Differences</title><content type='html'>**I am going to discuss medical related material, so please self-select if you are not the type to enjoy reading about medical things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8MveboI2mI/AAAAAAAAAEU/4J69H7hP6Ek/s1600-h/IMG_0347.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8MveboI2mI/AAAAAAAAAEU/4J69H7hP6Ek/s200/IMG_0347.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171028997010152034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a goiter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was another crazy day in clinic!  It was only Dr. Faile, Dr. Hewitt, Christy Lee (another 4th year medical student, who is staying the entire time I'm here), and myself.  Throughout my short stay, I've been impressed by cultural differences in medicine between the US and here, but today they stuck out more than usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my first patients today complained of "piles."  Maybe some of you know what that is, but I did not.  So I ask her to show me in the exam room, which is behind where I talk with patients.  By the time I get back there, she is completely naked, prostrate on the floor (we do have an exam table, but she chose the floor) with her bum in the air, as she points to her hemorrhoids.  It was slightly different than how that would work in the US. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the COUNTLESS number of translational issues.  I often sit for 5 to 10 minutes at a time with my interpreter and patient chatting vigorously, to then have my interpreter say ONE word about what is wrong with the patient! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one has back pain in Ghana, but EVERYONE has WAIST pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have taken quite a few good medical photos, but I think many are too graphic to show on this forum.  If I get a chance on a weekend, I will try to upload them to snapfish, and people can go look at them there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-4295421833507299206?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/4295421833507299206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=4295421833507299206' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/4295421833507299206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/4295421833507299206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/medical-differences.html' title='Medical Differences'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8MveboI2mI/AAAAAAAAAEU/4J69H7hP6Ek/s72-c/IMG_0347.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2350999378412184522</id><published>2008-02-24T12:32:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T13:06:32.422-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A few more pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8GxRboI2lI/AAAAAAAAAEM/EM8ZOFQexqs/s1600-h/IMG_0321.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8GxRboI2lI/AAAAAAAAAEM/EM8ZOFQexqs/s200/IMG_0321.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170608760230042194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A compound we visited on our trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8GuoLoI2kI/AAAAAAAAAEE/B8-LYlPsaho/s1600-h/IMG_0254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8GuoLoI2kI/AAAAAAAAAEE/B8-LYlPsaho/s200/IMG_0254.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170605852537182786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A country school we stopped at along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8GrYboI2jI/AAAAAAAAAD8/fMSxI_CR-zE/s1600-h/IMG_0344.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8GrYboI2jI/AAAAAAAAAD8/fMSxI_CR-zE/s200/IMG_0344.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170602283419359794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Making foofoo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2350999378412184522?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2350999378412184522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2350999378412184522' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2350999378412184522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2350999378412184522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/few-more-pictures.html' title='A few more pictures'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8GxRboI2lI/AAAAAAAAAEM/EM8ZOFQexqs/s72-c/IMG_0321.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2180520400806176471</id><published>2008-02-24T12:00:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T12:30:56.105-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Come and Go with me to my Father's house</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8Gn3boI2hI/AAAAAAAAADs/T_K8UBmMrYY/s1600-h/IMG_0275.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8Gn3boI2hI/AAAAAAAAADs/T_K8UBmMrYY/s200/IMG_0275.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170598417948793362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8GmCboI2gI/AAAAAAAAADk/qKnkDGb231o/s1600-h/IMG_0268.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8GmCboI2gI/AAAAAAAAADk/qKnkDGb231o/s200/IMG_0268.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170596407904098818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8Gke7oI2fI/AAAAAAAAADc/fMhKjRjS65Y/s1600-h/IMG_0291.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8Gke7oI2fI/AAAAAAAAADc/fMhKjRjS65Y/s200/IMG_0291.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170594698507114994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I was on call.  It was a rough day.  I treated 4 snakebites, incised and drained pockets of pus on two patients, sewed a cut finger back together, put a chest tube in (after the patient ripped it out the first time), and helped out with countless other short procedures and admitted a few other patients.  Overnight 3 of my patients died.  It was heartbreaking, but there wasn't  anything else that could be offered here, although in the US I think some of them would have made it.  Two were children.  It's a fact of life here, but it's hard nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I got off the BMC compound, and went to church with Tommy Harris.  It was a rather nice break from the hospital work.  Tommy is somewhat of a legend around here.  From what I can gather, he came here around 1984, originally working on the compound.   He is still a full time missionary, working on his own.  He travels to several villages and is a lay preacher.  I really can't do his story justice, but he does amazing work.  He has the best mastery of the local language and culture, he farms along side of them, and ministers to them.  He is sort of like a circuit pastor, going on a schedule to different villages to preach.  If you are wondering, they have traditional churches here in town too.  But I thought it'd be more fun to go with Tommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Fuller and Dana joined us too, as well as various locals we picked up along the way.  Getting to church was interesting.  I had been on the dirt roads here, but Tommy goes way out, he basically drives over what would be considered maybe a path.  In some cases, it was more like adventure off-roading, I have no idea how he exactly got his truck over some areas.  Needless to say it was quite bumpy.  You should have see the truck ford a river we drove over, it was quite impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Service was held under a tree.  It was rather refreshing.  There's alot of dancing and singing, then the message.  I read the children the story of Zacheus from a children's Bible I brought, the children loved it.  Except for Tommy telling us occasionally what was going on, I have no idea what was said, but I can tell the people love Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards since Dr. Fuller was with us, we extracted any teeth bothering the congregation.  Then we headed back for a foofoo, a traditional food here.  It's similar to the teazet I ate the other day, but it was made from yams.  It has the consistency of play-doh, and you pick it up with your hands, then dip it into a soup.  I think it is an acquired taste. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dana and I were quite exhausted (and still a bit hungry) when we got back, so now we are checking our e-mail while enjoying a tall glass of coke!  It tastes so yummy!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2180520400806176471?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2180520400806176471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2180520400806176471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2180520400806176471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2180520400806176471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/come-and-go-with-me-to-my-fathers-house.html' title='Come and Go with me to my Father&apos;s house'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R8Gn3boI2hI/AAAAAAAAADs/T_K8UBmMrYY/s72-c/IMG_0275.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3621269668058539196</id><published>2008-02-22T16:19:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T16:43:30.965-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Dad!</title><content type='html'>Pictures from the our trip to the bush yesterday!  It was a good day for us to leave the hospital because there were alot of medical volunteers at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R79A3roI2eI/AAAAAAAAADU/7R3HumYogO4/s1600-h/IMG_0185.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R79A3roI2eI/AAAAAAAAADU/7R3HumYogO4/s200/IMG_0185.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169922222592678370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's our sheep we were given for our work, we named him Fuller after Dr. Fuller.  Goats and sheep look very similar here, and I still don't really know how to tell them apart.  Apparently this is a sheep though, not a goat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R78_fboI2dI/AAAAAAAAADM/0W3Hme9HAuA/s1600-h/IMG_0155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R78_fboI2dI/AAAAAAAAADM/0W3Hme9HAuA/s200/IMG_0155.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169920706469222866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dr. Fuller's ingenious set up to clean teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R78-DroI2cI/AAAAAAAAADE/N2kJHBKkz3s/s1600-h/IMG_0165.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R78-DroI2cI/AAAAAAAAADE/N2kJHBKkz3s/s200/IMG_0165.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169919130216225218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And Dr. Fuller training his newest dental associate--ME!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3621269668058539196?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3621269668058539196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3621269668058539196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3621269668058539196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3621269668058539196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-birthday-dad.html' title='Happy Birthday Dad!'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R79A3roI2eI/AAAAAAAAADU/7R3HumYogO4/s72-c/IMG_0185.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-211303504058534419</id><published>2008-02-21T16:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T17:11:47.534-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dentistry in the Bush</title><content type='html'>Last night we met Dr. Fuller Robinson, who has been visiting BMC yearly since I was born (someone told me that he's turning 80 years old this year).  He is a dentist in Virginia.  He is here with his granddaughter, Dana, who is just 15.  When he comes, he spends most of his days going out to the bush villages and extracting teeth.  He has taught some folks here how to extract teeth as well.  Two of the other volunteers and myself had the opportunity to with him today.  We headed out to a village 5 miles from the Togo border, it was somewhere between an hour and an hour and a half drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the medical assistants with us was from the village we went to, and it turned out that his mother made us lunch that day, which was quite yummy, but we'll get to that.  Dr. Fuller had fully briefed us on all the customs that go along with these visits, he had prepared us for dealing with the chief, which is the first stop at the village.   You usually go into the chief's hut, and you have have to bow on the ground and go through all this ceremonial stuff before the chief sends you out to do the work you came to do. This was Dr. Fuller's first time to this particular village, so he wasn't sure what to expect.  So we get there, and we walk down to meet the chief.  They sit us outside this hut, and honestly I thought we were out there waiting to be invited into the hut.  Come to find out though, this was actually the chief and his elders out there!  I guess this chief was really relaxed compared to some.  Mainly he was interested in having us white girls take pictures with him, which we certainly obliged him with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we headed down and set up shop.  I won't be able to share enough pictures to really give you the picture.  BUT the back of the truck is set up so that we can extract teeth.  The front of the truck, we attach inverters to the motor, so that they can do cleanings in the front.  Dr. Fuller went to the school to sort over the children into who needed what.  I was left behind with Isiac, one of the assistants, to start numbing people and extracting.   Yes I'm in medical school, not dental school.  Yet within a few minutes I was extracting my first teeth.  In fact, by the end of the day we all got pretty good at it.  Anyone need a tooth out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point the chief came down to preside over us.  But mainly we just had at it.  Afterwards they invited us to lunch.  Now often it's one of the chief's wives who cooks for us, and Dr. Fuller has many stories about the weird things he has been forced to eat.  However, since Thompson, ones of the assistants with us is from this village, and he is an assembly man here, his mother cooked Teazat for us.  This is a very traditional food here.  It's essentially a cooked maize, that you pick up with you fingers, and dip into a soup.  The soup had guinea fowl in it.  It was actually really good.  We were glad to not be eating a chicken with ALL of it's parts in a soup. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch, the village presented us with a gift for our work.  We became the proud owners of sheep and a chicken!  Faith, one of the volunteers, and a third year resident in CA, accepted the gifts, which we had to load in the truck to bring home with us.  We thankfully were able to give the sheep and the chicken away to one of the other workers, and we are sad to say likely they are no longer living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ride to and from the village was a trip.  It was a mix of dirt and paved roads.  However, with everyone with us, there wasn't room for all of us inside the truck.  I volunteered to sit in the back of the truck.  We actually sat on a wooden bench we were bringing to the village.  The locals do it all the time, but they thought as a white girl, I was crazy.  They absolutely insisted I wear a surgical towel on my head to protect my hair, and surgical mask on my face so I didn't breath all the dust, when you added my sunglasses, it was QUITE the ensemble!  And with the dust from the road, by the time we got back, I had the Ghana equivalent of a spray on tan.  I was COVERED head to toe in red dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a really fun day!  Dr. Fuller bought us all coca-cola and cookies on the way home! (kind of funny for a dentist to buy us soda and cookies)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we had a station meeting, where we sing hymns, a little devotional, pray together, and then had a birthday celebration for Mona Hewitt (Dr. Hewitt's wife).  It has been a pretty exciting day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS I have great pictures from today, but they aren't loading, so maybe I'll get them on another night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-211303504058534419?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/211303504058534419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=211303504058534419' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/211303504058534419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/211303504058534419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/dentistry-in-bush.html' title='Dentistry in the Bush'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3539294851058879537</id><published>2008-02-20T15:16:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T15:32:37.002-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures from the Road Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7yMbLoI2bI/AAAAAAAAAC8/fsAI8kxyvD8/s1600-h/Ghana022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7yMbLoI2bI/AAAAAAAAAC8/fsAI8kxyvD8/s320/Ghana022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169160870919985586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See if you can find the goat on the truck.  This is common.  Fesheni tells me, sometimes truckers will put a hammock underneath the truck, and someone will ride down there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7yLS7oI2aI/AAAAAAAAAC0/wN3519Kehro/s1600-h/Ghana020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7yLS7oI2aI/AAAAAAAAAC0/wN3519Kehro/s320/Ghana020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169159629674437026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;PS It's nice to know that when I head to Ghana, the president follows!  A surprising number of the locals have reminded us that our president is visiting Ghana today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PPS Two pictures at a time is the maximum the internet here can handle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3539294851058879537?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3539294851058879537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3539294851058879537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3539294851058879537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3539294851058879537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/pictures-from-road-trip.html' title='Pictures from the Road Trip'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7yMbLoI2bI/AAAAAAAAAC8/fsAI8kxyvD8/s72-c/Ghana022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2675359007263999494</id><published>2008-02-20T15:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T15:16:17.704-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Market Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7yIXboI2ZI/AAAAAAAAACs/b1RO1CK7RvQ/s1600-h/Ghana019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7yIXboI2ZI/AAAAAAAAACs/b1RO1CK7RvQ/s200/Ghana019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169156408448965010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday when I signed off I was heading to market.  Three of us were supposed to be going with one of the attending physicians, but that didn't end up working out, so we headed out ourselves.  We had some vague directions on how to get there and off we went.  It was our first time out of the gates surrounding the BMC compound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a pretty fun adventure.  We had alot of kids following us around, some would just run up and hug you.  Then this big group of children came running and chanting through the street, and our gaggle joined them.  It's not that unusual, from what I could tell from my drive up here, for groups of kids to go out singing and running at the same time.  Maybe if more of the kids in the US did that, we wouldn't have an obesity problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The market was slightly farther away than we thought, but that was alright, we just had to ask some people for directions.  We did have a group of men tell us they were in love with us.  This is actual common in Ghana, it's part of their humor.  You are supposed to laugh.  Then if they persist, you tell them that my dad will request 30 horses for my hand in marriage.  In Ghana, it is common for the man to give a present (usually cows, but since Americans are supposed to be rich, the Ghanians think we should ask for horses).  And 30 horses would be EXTREMELY EXTREMELY expensive for someone from here.  Then everyone laughs and moves on.  I guess it's supposed to be a compliment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The market is like this mass of people, stalls, and items to buy.  For my first true African market, I enjoyed the culture of it.  Because we are far away from big cities, people push a little for you to buy things, but for the most part they aren't very pushy.  We more got stares at our white skin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't buy anything, but I have 8 weeks, I'm sure I'll do plenty of shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is my first night on call, so I better go check back at the hospital.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2675359007263999494?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2675359007263999494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2675359007263999494' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2675359007263999494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2675359007263999494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/market-day.html' title='Market Day'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7yIXboI2ZI/AAAAAAAAACs/b1RO1CK7RvQ/s72-c/Ghana019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-8369543296146975910</id><published>2008-02-19T10:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T10:31:07.055-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nalerigu Baptist Medical Center</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was my first day at the hospital, and first time seeing Nalerigu in the daylight.  The facilities are well thought out, very basic, but try to meet the needs of the patients.  Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday is clinic.  So in the morning we see all the patients in the hospital, then start seeing anyone who has arrived for clinic.  Clinic is a bit overwhelming.  Yesterday we had 600 patients show up.  Thankfully, there is an unusually high number of volunteer residents, an extra doctor, and two med students (me being one of them) this week.  There are only 2 full time permanent doctors here.  All 600 patients were seen, we didn't finish until around 7:30pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesdays and Thursdays are procedure day, including surgeries and all minor procedures, it's alot quieter.  Besides the hospital, there is a nutrition center, where mothers and children can stay to learn how to properly feed their babies, and try to get the children back on track with their weight.  And then there is also a TB village, where patients can stay with family and finish the required 6 month treatment program for TB.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The medicine side of things is a bit overwhelming.  I've only seen one or two cases of malaria in the US, and practically every other patient has it here.  I've never seen typhoid fever in the US, and it's very common here as well.  I'm learning snake bite protocols, which are also new.  Yesterday I just shadowed Dr. Hewitt, a full time doctor here, and at times I felt more like a 1st year medical student, than one just about to graduate.  But Dr. Hewitt is very patient and kind, and I think I will be learning a great deal from him in my time here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things we so commonly treat in the US, we do nothing here for.  For example, diabetes--in the US it is bread and butter medicine to be managing a diabetic patient.  Here, the patients don't have refrigerators, and the pharmacy stocks little insulin.  If a patient has diabetes, we can give them some oral drugs, but that is it.  There is no such thing as having a patient test their blood sugar at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's time to head to market, so I'm off!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-8369543296146975910?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/8369543296146975910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=8369543296146975910' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/8369543296146975910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/8369543296146975910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/nalerigu-baptist-medical-center.html' title='Nalerigu Baptist Medical Center'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-3394523405643354300</id><published>2008-02-19T10:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T10:18:06.451-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip</title><content type='html'>I had been told that Ghana had many uniquely named businesses, so during my road trip, I kept track, and I'll share some:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Thank you Jesus Fashion House&lt;br /&gt;-God's Time Enterprise&lt;br /&gt;-Blessed O' Motors&lt;br /&gt;- Psalm 100 Instruments&lt;br /&gt;-God First Refrigeration&lt;br /&gt;-Heaven's Gate-No Loans&lt;br /&gt;-Have Faith in God Motors (my personal favorite)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip from Accra to Nalerigu was quite fun, just a bit long (about 14 hours).  The scenery changes pretty dramatically over the drive, from lush rainforest to the very arid northern region that I'm in.  My driver was an office assistant named Fesheni.  He grew up in the town where the hospital is, and now works for the mission in Accra.  We stopped at least 3 times for cows to cross the road, once for a donkey, and too numerous to count for goats....and once for "overspeeding."  The speeding could be a whole story in itself, it's quite different than being pulled over in the US will have to suffice for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to go to market here, because all along the road people are selling just about anything imaginable.   My personal favorite was the bush rats, they are much larger than those in the US (about the size of a rabbit) and people eat them here.  Once or twice I had a man come up the window and insist I buy one, but I think they were more enjoying trying to shock me than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the day we were on paved roads, but the last 56 km to the hospital is all dirt road.  And when I say dirt road, it's very bumpy, sometimes the road would be out.  I learned quickly Fesheni had different levels of concern for bumps.  There were small bumps, he would tell me it'll be bumpy ahead.  Then it progressed up to seatbelt bumps, that it was imperative we had out seatbelts on well before the bump.  Finally there were the we need to go real slow or we will be in a ditch kind of a bump, if the road was there at all.  And for added fun, due to construction and other various issues, we didn't make it to the dirt road, till well after dark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-3394523405643354300?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/3394523405643354300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=3394523405643354300' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3394523405643354300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/3394523405643354300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/road-trip_19.html' title='Road Trip'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-1518983146915669752</id><published>2008-02-19T08:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T08:27:11.928-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nalerigu</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry I haven't posted.  The internet has been down, and when it's been up there is a group from a church in the US here for the week, and they have been at the computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have arrived safely!  Lord-willing, I'll get to blog tomorrow night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry this is so short, but my time is limited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-1518983146915669752?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/1518983146915669752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=1518983146915669752' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1518983146915669752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/1518983146915669752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/nalerigu.html' title='Nalerigu'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-2761826447194635044</id><published>2008-02-16T16:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T16:10:30.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Arrived Safely</title><content type='html'>I just wanted you to all know I have safely arrived in the capital, Accra, with very few complications.  My first flight was supposedly overbooked, yet I ended up with the only empty seat next to me, which was super nice.  It turns out across the aisle from me, a couple I was chatting with were both doctors.  The wife is an internist and the husband is in ID (infectious disease, if Heather is reading this she is probably peeing her pants).  AND they have a daughter, who works at a small university in Maine--University of New England!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half way to Amsterdam, I hear a message over the intercom, that if anyone has medical skills, please report to the front.  I was pretty glad at that point that my aisle-mates were doctors, because I'm not sure I really wanted to jump in quite yet.  It turned out a guy had fainted, he was fine, the doctor did nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave at 5am for Tamale, and possibly Nalerigu--the BIG road trip!  I met the Fusheni, the office assistant taking me, and I think we are going to have alot of fun.  The pharmacist from the hosptial is at the mission house right now, and she was reminding him where all the toilets are along the way for me!  I thought that was so nice of her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-2761826447194635044?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/2761826447194635044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=2761826447194635044' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2761826447194635044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/2761826447194635044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/arrived-safely.html' title='Arrived Safely'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7954331724161097323</id><published>2008-02-15T14:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T15:03:50.757-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On the way</title><content type='html'>I'm in the Newark Airport!  It's been amazingly easy so far, everyone has been kind and helpful!  I've had some very bad airport experiences, so it's been a blessing for it to go easy.  The only issue has been that my parents plotted to get me here so darn early!  I was already checked in at the gate, 3 hours before my flight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Compared to South Africa, where I managed to cry from Newark to Cape Town or to El Salvador where I broke out in a full body rash cried to my roommate how I'm a leper this is MUCH better!  You'll have to wait for my graduation party to get the full leper story as best told through my roommate Erica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather in Amsterdam is supposed to be sunny and 41 degrees.  And for Mr. C, the 10 day forecast for Accra is 90 degrees and sunny...all 10 days.  In comparison, Portland, ME is supposed to be averaging about 25 degrees for the next 10 days!  I love Ghana already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to M/M Clune for a fantastic send off lunch and to my mom for driving me here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7954331724161097323?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7954331724161097323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7954331724161097323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7954331724161097323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7954331724161097323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/on-way.html' title='On the way'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-4534611593120207921</id><published>2008-02-14T21:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T21:26:21.465-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All packed!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7T10LoI2YI/AAAAAAAAACk/RuMg38C82TA/s1600-h/IMG_0029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7T10LoI2YI/AAAAAAAAACk/RuMg38C82TA/s200/IMG_0029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167024949323946370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank the Lord, I don't know how everything fit into 4 bags!  Do you remember Harry Potter how Hermione could cast spells and fit everything in a carpet bag?  Well God didn't have to cast a spell, but essentially the same thing happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less than 24 hours, I will be on a plane to Amsterdam then to Accra, the capital of Ghana!  I would greatly appreciate prayers for the following:&lt;br /&gt;1) I'll easily get my bags checked without too much hassle.&lt;br /&gt;2) That I will have a spirit of calmness, and use the time on the plane to relax and prepare.&lt;br /&gt;3) When I make it Accra, that I will easily get through customs (that was NOT the case when I went to South Africa, but I am armed with a nice notarized letter stating I'm carrying donated supplies to a missionary hospital)&lt;br /&gt;4) That they remember to pick me up from the airport (I know it's a silly fear, but it's a fear none the less)&lt;br /&gt;5) That my cross country road trip will go smoothly, and that I'll have the stamina to enjoy the journey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-4534611593120207921?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/4534611593120207921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=4534611593120207921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/4534611593120207921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/4534611593120207921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/all-packed.html' title='All packed!'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R7T10LoI2YI/AAAAAAAAACk/RuMg38C82TA/s72-c/IMG_0029.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-6157385988240278136</id><published>2008-02-10T19:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T19:46:15.674-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip</title><content type='html'>I got an e-mail from Ghana today.  I was supposed to fly into the capital, Accra, then catch a flight to Tamale, and finally take a 3 hour ride to Nalerigu.  Well, today I was offered to drive the whole trip to bring supplies from Accra to Nalerigu with an office assistant.  It'll take 14+ hours.  It seems a little crazy, however I think it is a great opportunity to see more of Ghana, not to mention it's cheaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have opted for the ROAD TRIP Ghana-style!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-6157385988240278136?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/6157385988240278136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=6157385988240278136' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6157385988240278136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/6157385988240278136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/road-trip.html' title='Road Trip'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-515511064766457682</id><published>2008-02-07T22:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T20:30:17.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is Ghana?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This is a frequent question I've answered since telling people I'm heading to Ghana. Here's a little geography lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ghana is located on planet earth. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164458756721439794" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R6vX4HOJdDI/AAAAAAAAACM/u8srL2k4Zs4/s200/Earth.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R6vTnXOJc8I/AAAAAAAAABU/5vMRob7XcG0/s1600-h/ghana_small_map.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the continent of Africa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164457893433013282" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R6vXF3OJdCI/AAAAAAAAACE/lv4E-EbWElo/s200/ghana_small_map.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I will be in the Northern Region, which on this map, if you find Tamale, I'll be 3 hours north of there.  I'll be at Nalerigu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164457373741970450" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R6vWnnOJdBI/AAAAAAAAAB8/xjlNFQGk6xI/s200/Ghana.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There now, don't you feel &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;smarter&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-515511064766457682?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/515511064766457682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=515511064766457682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/515511064766457682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/515511064766457682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/where-is-ghana.html' title='Where is Ghana?'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R6vX4HOJdDI/AAAAAAAAACM/u8srL2k4Zs4/s72-c/Earth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969591082448397307.post-7918451425239038477</id><published>2008-02-07T21:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T20:26:48.642-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's start at the very beginning...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"Life is a daring adventure or nothing. Security does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than exposure."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Helen Keller &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I start the story, let me just say...thanks for reading! Welcome! I haven't a clue what I'm doing with this whole blog thing, so please bare with me. I intend to use this blog to keep friends and family updated about my trip to Nalerigu Baptist Medical Center in Ghana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A week from tomorrow Lord-willing, I will be boarding a plane, and 24 hours later I'll be in Accra--the capital of Ghana. I'll stay there for a day or so at a mission house, then I'll fly to Tamale (the 3rd largest city in Ghana). Finally, someone from Nalerigu Bapist Medical Center will pick me up, and we will take a 3 hour drive to get to my final destination for the next 8 weeks! You can check out their website at &lt;a href="http://www.baptistmedicalcenter.org/"&gt;http://www.baptistmedicalcenter.org/&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So how did I work this all out???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ultimately it's God, who opened up every door because there is no way I could have worked out the intricate details myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A year ago, my school sent me to Island Falls, ME for the month of February, it was &lt;em&gt;freezing&lt;/em&gt;! It happened that a friend in the class ahead of me had stayed at the same house and worked with the same doctor. Brooke had also inspired me to go to El Salvador with Global Health Outreach during my 2nd year. So I e-mailed her to tell her I was at the same site she had been to. When she wrote me back, she told me about MAP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MAP--Medical Assistance Program--funds a fellowship for 4th year medical students and residents with an interest in missions to do an 8 week rotation overseas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggest you look at the MAP website too, &lt;a href="http://www.map.org/"&gt;http://www.map.org/&lt;/a&gt;. They are a very cool organization! Without making this too long, I won their scholarship! I originally planned to&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R6vaQnOJdEI/AAAAAAAAACU/X3MihWzTlnE/s1600-h/mapiLogo.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164461376651490370" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R6vaQnOJdEI/AAAAAAAAACU/X3MihWzTlnE/s200/mapiLogo.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; be heading to Papua New Guinea, however my school squashed those plans. The scholarship actually supported me to find a new location.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, God opened up the door to go to Ghana. I'll be at a 123 bed hospital, with 2 American missionary doctors. There will be alot more about the hospital in upcoming posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since I finalized my location, I also won two other scholarships to help defray the costs. I won the Humanism in Medicine Scholarship from SOMA and the Westra Scholarship from CMDA. Let me tell you, it's all God, because I've never been a big scholarship winner, then to win, three national scholarships in 1 year is CRAZY! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS Upcoming posts will have alot more pictures, but my computer is crashed at the moment. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164462583537300562" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R6vbW3OJdFI/AAAAAAAAACc/wdHM_F9pWPA/s200/BMC.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969591082448397307-7918451425239038477?l=elizabethghana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/feeds/7918451425239038477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969591082448397307&amp;postID=7918451425239038477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7918451425239038477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969591082448397307/posts/default/7918451425239038477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizabethghana.blogspot.com/2008/02/lets-start-at-very-beginning.html' title='Let&apos;s start at the very beginning...'/><author><name>Elizabeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17963755866118822840</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/TKU8l98b6NI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9-mktj48gsE/S220/Heather+and+I.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Gjat71nRx2c/R6vaQnOJdEI/AAAAAAAAACU/X3MihWzTlnE/s72-c/mapiLogo.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
