Posts Tagged With: orphanage

A Ghana to Remember

Two weeks ago today, I said a tearful goodbye and left my beautiful Ghana behind. Now that my big adventure has come to a close, I want to make a list (more for me than for you, to be honest) of things I never want to forget about Ghana. After spending three months in Africa, there are about as many things that I dislike about Ghana as that I like. However, I want to remember some of the negative, too, as it all adds up to an incredible and irreplaceable ride. I don’t think I could ever go anywhere so different and so far from home without walking away with about 1,000 new impressions and experiences, and I want to capture some of those on…er, “paper,” I guess…before the memories fade away.

Things I want to remember about my Ghana experience, in no particular order:

  • Goats, chickens, roosters, sheep, lizards, and dogs wandering through the streets and through our front yard. Baby goats are SO darling. We also saw a toad once and a big, 6-inch black scorpion on another occasion. Rats and mice frequently showed up in Potter’s Village. The coolest lizards had orange heads and tails. The goats started to really grow on me, too; wouldn’t mind having one of them someday 🙂




  • The red dirt that looks just like southern Utah
  • Trotros – a sort of minibus or large van run by a driver and a “mate” who takes money and directs stops. Unlike taxi cabs, the trotros have set, consistent prices no matter which one you catch, and honest mates who give the correct change. However, if there’s enough room for three people on a bench, they’ll fit four or five on it. The highest number of people I ever counted in one trotro was 29 (I think that particular trotro had 21 seats).
  • The way the trotro mates call the names of the places they’re going out the window, slurring everything together (“AccraAccraAccra” or “MadinaMadinaMadinaMadina” or “MadinaOldRoad” which sounds more like “MadinaDohDoh”)
  • Bargaining, constantly, every time we bought anything. The prices aren’t marked, forcing us to speak to the salesman/woman anytime we were interested in buying something. Inevitably, they would start with an “obruni price” that is much higher than reasonable, and we’d have to initially give an almost-offensive low price in order to reach a reasonable middle ground.
  • Fresh mangoes, pineapples, papaya (“pawpaw”), oranges, bananas, and plantains. The mangoes especially are to die for. Plantain trees were grown in the yard next door to the volunteer house, and mango trees were in our front yard.
  • The sound of the children singing. I am convinced there is no sound more beautiful on the earth.
  • Standing on my front porch, looking at the stars (when it wasn’t hazy) while brushing my teeth
  • Preachers on the trotros, in the markets, and along the streets. Occasionally a Ghanaian would get on the trotro, stand up, say a prayer, and then spend the next 30-60 minutes giving a very loud sermon – sometimes in English, and sometimes in a local dialect like Twi. Though the northern regions of Ghana have many Muslims, the sermons in my area were always Christian; I have wondered if the Muslims preach like this anyway. In the markets, they would have megaphones or speakers and walk around preaching. Then there are vans with megaphones affixed to the roof that drive up and down the streets preaching – or at least I assume they’re preaching. I never heard a van megaphone speaking in English. We also had a group of worshipers in the field behind our house at nighttime. They do a ritualistic chanting that we thought was in tongues until I finally walked close enough to make out English words. It was seriously one of the strangest things I’ve ever heard.
  • How loud Ghanaians are. We (the volunteers) determined that Ghanaians are trapped in a vicious cycle: they all talk really loud and attend really loud church services, parties, and funerals (which are sometimes all the same thing, it seems), and then they’re all going deaf, so everything has to be even louder. Competing with the noise level of the kids in the morning to tell them they had 10 minutes to leave for school was a bit of a nightmare with my quiet-ish voice. I really learned to project that tiny American voice of mine. We had one night when a funeral down the street (probably a 10-minute walk away) had festival-sized speakers playing music all night long, and we could hear the bass line the whole night from our bedroom. Our “lovely” neighbors talked so loud that it usually sounded like they were standing in our room.
  • The sunrise in the morning, which is so sudden that it seems like someone turned a light bulb on:
Sunrise in Dodowa

Sunrise in Dodowa

  • The “bathing line” in the mornings at Potter’s Village. This was anywhere from 3-12 of the smallest children, naked, and of course standing perfectly still and well-behaved as they waited for their turn 😉 Yeah, right. Bunch of little hooligans dancing around and beating each other while entirely nude. The chaos and nakedness seriously made me laugh every morning, no matter how stressful the day.
  • Flushing toilets using buckets, and putting our used toilet paper in a trash can instead of in the toilet. This caused the most culture shock for me when I returned to the U.S.
  • Burning trash along the roadside. There is litter everywhere, including in the rancid, sewage-filled gutters (I was convinced at one point that the smell of those gutters would probably seep into my clothing if I stood near one long enough. I also decided that if I ever fell into one of the gutters, I’d be on the next plane home.). Occasional signs tell you to “Keep Ghana Clean” with photos of putting litter in trash cans, but public trash cans are almost impossible to find. The locals do, however, burn their trash in big heaps. And I exhaled every time I walked past one. On a similar note, Ghanaians have no shame urinating in public. It’s very common to see “Do not urinate here” painted on the outsides of buildings and on fences.
  • The handshake with a snap at the end. As you slide your hands out of the handshake, both people snap using their middle finger and thumb on top of one another (so you’re snapping with your middle finger and thumb on either side of the other person’s middle finger, and vice versa). It’s awesome and took me a long time to make any noise. Even now, I think most of the successful handshakes made a snapping noise because of the Ghanaian I shook hands with, not because I perfected the trick.
  • The languages. When I came to Ghana, I was under the (mistaken) impression that Ghanaians know English. Though English is the official language of Ghana, only about 30% of the country speaks it. I lived relatively close to the capital, so most did know English in my area, but it’s still rarely their first choice. Most of the Ghanaians I asked said that they speak somewhere between 3 and 7 languages. Dodowa (the town I lived in) spoke Dangbe, and the children at Potter’s Village spoke Twi (which is a more common and well-known dialect). The languages are beautiful; I didn’t realize how “African” they sounded until I listened to it at home. They tend to drift in and out of English, so even when they were speaking local dialects, I could usually decipher the general topic of the conversation.
  • The attention from the men. At first, I was extremely amused by the forward, direct things the local men said to me right after meeting me – things like, “I love you” and “I will marry you.” The first guy who hit on me actually jumped on the back of my trotro as we pulled away, trying to get me to give my phone number to the mate so that he could pass it on. I was laughing so hard I didn’t even really answer him. After three months of constant attention, though, I was done with it. One time, near the end of my trip, I was alone in a trotro station, and I actually missed my trotro (it pulled away without me) because a random local guy wouldn’t let go of my shoulders. Needless to say, I was pretty ticked. Conclusion? The attention is oddly flattering, but it’s not worth the extra hassle of fighting off guys simply because I’m white.
  • Djembe drums. These are your typical African drums, and they sound SO cool. I witnessed drum performers on several occasions, almost always in touristy areas, and usually in conjunction with dancers, acrobats, and fire-throwers. I bought a small djembe drum and brought it home with me. Carved into it are two Adinkra (West African) symbols: happiness and unity. The head of the drum is goat skin, and there’s even a little goat hair around the edges of the drum head still – a constant reminder that it’s handmade.
  • The chocolate. Ghana exports cocoa, and I really love their local chocolate. I purchased it in several flavors, including lemon and orange. It doesn’t seem to melt despite the high temperatures (they sell it in the outdoor markets), and it has a really interesting consistency. It starts out kind of chalky, and then becomes creamy and smooth as you chew it. It is made using 100% genuine cocoa – no cocoa butter. Unfortunately, upon bringing some of the chocolate home, I have discovered that the desert climate I live in has made the chocolate taste very dry. I did see cocoa trees on several occasions, though the cocoa pods were never their ripe, yellow color.
  • The racism. Believe me, I know how strange this sounds, but I never want to forget it. If we define racism as being treated differently (often negatively) because of the color of one’s skin, then Ghana – my beautiful Ghana – is a racist nation. With 99% of the country being black, we stuck out like sore thumbs, and heads turned everywhere we went. Occasionally it bothered me, such as when a Ghanaian would call out, “obruni!” and then say something in a local dialect that we couldn’t understand, and then all their friends would laugh. We were often mocked or treated as if we were just plain stupid. However, despite the occasional frustrations, most of the time I took it as a learning experience, and I learned lessons that I can’t adequately put into words. I was able to tour Cape Coast Castle, formerly a British slave trade castle, and experience the humbling feeling of being in a place where such cruelty and misunderstanding took place. I saw the dungeons where the slaves were chained, the solitary confinement rooms, the beaches where they were loaded onto ships, and I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t find tears to shed. I had one occasion when all the volunteers were sitting in the back row of the trotro, and I thought of Rosa Parks refusing to sit at the back of the bus. I finally understood it. I understood her. On multiple occasions, I would find myself thinking, Please just let me walk through the market without being the center of attention. Please let me be unnoticed as I walk down the street so that I can quietly live my life. I was tired of it – tired of the constant attention because of my skin color, tired of speaking to every Ghanaian man I passed, tired of being mocked, tired of being asked for money or food or my watch by people who were clearly doing fine on their own. This is a lesson that will stick with me for the rest of my life: No one should be treated differently because of something (like skin color) that they cannot control. May we all be a little more tolerant, a little more accepting, a little more loving.
  • The hissing. Ghanaians hiss to get each other’s attention. It surprised me at first, especially the first time I walked through a market and heard it constantly as they tried to get my attention. However, I accepted it as part of life and actually caught myself doing it a couple of times. It works! And it’s much better than yelling to get someone’s attention, especially in crowded places.
  • Little hands covered in food, being rubbed on my arms, legs, head, and back as small children climbed on me right after eating their meals. I’ll admit, I never really got used to this. Food hands bothered me every time, no matter how dirty I already was.
  • Washing my clothes by hand with buckets and a drying line. A small load took about 1/2 hour, and doing all my clothes (basically 8 full outfits) took about 3 1/2 hours. I never fully appreciated washing machines before this trip.
Laundry day!

Laundry day!

  • The teachers still “cane” naughty children in Ghana, and the mamas at the orphanage would occasionally cane the kids there, too. A “cane” is just a thin stick, and it seems to be about the only form of discipline that works on these children. I only personally witnessed mild beatings, thank heavens. I did, however, clean some pretty bad wounds from a beating on one child’s back – something I never thought I’d do in my life. I also saw several swollen little wrists.
  • Fishermen on the beaches. This was really cool, and I was lucky enough to see it in Cape Coast and again at Kokrobite on my last weekend. We got up to watch the sunrise, and we witnessed fishing boats heading out into the ocean, like this:
Fishing boats heading into the ocean near Cape Coast

Fishing boats heading into the ocean near Cape Coast


Then the next thing we know, there are about 20 men lined up along each rope on the shore, pulling in the fishing nets. I watched for a long time, and never saw the nets reach the shore. I imagine that they only pull in one net per day.

Men pulling in fishing nets

Men pulling in fishing nets

  • “Potato chips,” which we call French fries (I was definitely confused the first time, though I should’ve known better) and “yam chips,” which are fried just like French fries but are made using yams instead. By “yams,” I mean white yams, not sweet potatoes. The texture is a little different than fries made from potatoes, and the taste is sweeter. I actually really liked them.
  • Roads full of potholes. This was especially evident on the 3 1/2 hour trotro ride to the Volta Region on my weekend trip to see the monkey sanctuary and Wli waterfall. Swerving back and forth across the road to avoid potholes sometimes felt like we were living the game of Mario Kart.
  • Driving without lanes, traffic lights, or crossing signals. Of course, by “driving,” I don’t mean I actually drove. I would’ve died in about two minutes flat if I’d been personally driving on those streets. It’s really quite a miracle that I didn’t see more car accidents. I also didn’t realize I’d find myself missing traffic lights and crossing signals.
  • Buying things from the trotro or taxi windows. In each trotro station, and many times as we stopped in trotros along the streets, vendors would come up (with their goods in bowls on their heads, in truly African style) and sell things to us through the windows! This came in quite handy on multiple occasions, especially buying water and other snacks on long weekend trips.
  • Drinking water from sachets. These were probably 4″ x 6″ clear plastic water bags, each containing 500mL of water. We just bit off the corner and drank straight from the sachets. Most volunteers spill at least one bag entirely at some point during their stay.
  • The walk to church, which took me about 25 minutes each way, through the streets of Dodowa. I liked this for two reasons: (1) It gave me some alone time to think, and (2) it made me appreciate the close proximity of church at home. I think church meant even more to me when it required me to put forth some extra effort to attend. I also found myself sort of counting down to Sundays when I would be able to attend again – a little safe haven where nobody called me “obruni.” 🙂
  • Shops with religious names. Though not all shops had religious names, a good portion of them did. Similar sayings can also be seen on the rear windows of trotros and taxis. I made a list of some of them, which is a pretty good representation of the typical names you’d see: Jesus is One Carpentry, Gye Nyame Butcher’s Shop (“Gye Nyame” means “accept God” or “the supremacy of God”), By His Grace Fitting Shop, God With Us Cold Store, The Lord is My Shepherd Cold Store, The Line of Judah Aluminum, JustChrist Special Tilapia Joint, God’s Shelf Aluminum and Razor Wire, No Weapon Formed Against Thee, Anointed Hand Fast Food, God Reigns Aluminum, See What God Has Done, Trinity Oil, Supreme Genesis Investments, God’s Love Ventures, Amen Driving Institute, Super Divine Video and Photo Centre
  • The brightly-colored clothing. Men and women both wear bright, patterned clothes. The basic clothing is either (1) used, western clothing bought in the markets (basically just what you’d see in thrift stores in the States) or (2) bright, Ghanaian cloth that has been purchased by the yard and then taken to a seamstress for custom-tailored clothing. I absolutely LOVE Ghanaian clothes – and I brought several dresses and skirts home with me.
  • Ghanaians know how to do funerals right. They are Friday – Sunday, 3-day “celebrations of life” – at least if the person passed away in old age. They wear matching dresses and shirts like you would see at a wedding. They also display big, professionally-made posters all over town announcing the funeral. The posters usually have a photo of the person, basic information about him/her, and the age he/she died. It’s quite the tribute. Hearses often have sirens on them so that the funeral processions can clear the road to pass through. At least twice, I saw entire roads blocked off for funeral celebrations right in the middle of the street.
  • Football (soccer). I was lucky enough to be in Ghana during the African Cup of Nations – essentially the “football” playoffs for Africa. Ghana made it to the top four and then lost in penalty kicks to Burkina Faso. It was so exciting to be there during the games. Though I only watched one game, we always knew when one was playing because we could hear, “Gooooooooooal!” being shouted from random buildings all over. The game that I watched was the semi-final against Burkina Faso, and we crammed into a dimly lit bar full of excited Ghanaians to watch it. I don’t know much about soccer, but I know which team I’ll be cheering for from here on out 🙂
  • The feeling of visiting upscale Accra Mall. I was always conflicted between being proud of Ghana for having a place that fancy, and being disgusted with Ghana for having a place that fancy. I always had a hard time convincing myself that I was still in Africa (and the first time it made me very homesick), and then I’d walk back outside and be hit by the wave of heat and humidity and the noise of the streets of Ghana.
  • The movie theatre in Accra Mall, which I only attended once, and which was so much like home that I kept expecting to walk into a familiar parking lot afterward and get into my little red Chevy Cavalier to drive home. The catch: Ghanaians clap in movies when something good happens. And then I would get snapped back to reality and my real location.
  • The feeling of being buried in small children, even on the hottest of days when I felt like I would suffocate under their body heat. It’s quite an amazing experience to walk into Potter’s Village, sit down, and immediately have 5-6 children on my lap and gathered around me. Sometimes we’d read or play little hand games or look at pictures on my camera, but often we’d just sit and talk and laugh and sing. I love those kids, and I miss their hugs every single day.

I could probably keep going, but I feel like I have sufficiently covered most of my trip. If you’re still reading this, you get five gold stars for your perseverance! Thanks for walking down memory lane with me.

Categories: Ghana Volunteer | Tags: , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Adding a Little Clay

This post is a bit late in coming, but I wanted to share some of the smaller projects I was able to complete (thanks to donations sent by wonderful people!) at Potter’s Village before I left Ghana. The Potter’s Village is so named because we are “molding” people. However, without a safe external environment, the real molding – the important, internal molding – can’t take place.

I spent much of my donation money to further the land project (see here). However, I was still left with enough funds to complete a few minor but important repair projects at the current location – to add a little “clay,” if you will, to Potter’s Village.

Reverend Asare and I discussed bringing someone in to get an estimate for the repairs. Then the next day, Reverend told me that one of the older boys knew how to make the repairs himself. So 16-year-old Emmanuel (“Ahovi”) and I took a trip to a couple little shops in Dodowa (conveniently the teachers were on strike so he didn’t have school for a few days) to purchase tools and materials.

Ahovi carrying the materials back to Potter's Village. He may or may  not have done more work than me on this... ;)

Ahovi carrying the materials back to Potter’s Village. He may or may not have done more work than me on this… 😉

Plywood, mesh screening, and metal bars for window and door repairs

Plywood, mesh screening, and metal bars for window and door repairs

With Ahovi! Sometimes I forget he's still an awkward teenage boy. haha

With Ahovi! Sometimes I forget he’s still an awkward teenage boy. haha

Here are some descriptions and photos of the projects we were able to complete!

New window screen and bars in one of the girls’ bedrooms. This became an immediate top priority not because mosquitoes were getting through the tears in the screen (which they were) but because someone slashed the screen from the outside with a knife during the night. This would not have happened if the window had had the appropriate metal bars across it. By the time I took my “before” photos, a temporary metal piece had been set across the bottom of the window to keep the girls safe while we fixed the window properly.



Window from the inside, before repairs


Window from the outside, before repairs


Check out how he used the nails to hold in the edges of the metal bars

Check out how he used the nails to hold in the edges of the metal bars


Window with a new screen and bars! He left the temporary bars in, added new bars, and re-screened the entire window.

The window screen leading from the main courtyard area into the boys’ room. This screen was very torn (and extra mutilated because children were playing with the loose strings frequently). With an increase in malaria cases in Potter’s Village, I wanted to get these screens fixed ASAP.


Window into the boys' room, before repairs

Window into the boys’ room, before repairs

Ahovi and Richmond repairing the window screen

Ahovi and Richmond repairing the window screen


New window screen! Ta da!

New window screen! Ta da!

The door to the boy’s room was missing a panel.


Door to the boys' room, before repairs

Door to the boys’ room, before repairs


Godwyn showing the repaired door panel

Godwyn showing the repaired door panel

The door locks. Two doors required new latches, hinges, and padlocks. I don’t have “Before” photos of these, but one of them is a door to the back bathing area, and the other is the door for the storage room with all the kitchen supplies in it.

Ahovi adding a new latch and padlock on the kitchen door

Ahovi adding a new latch and padlock on the kitchen door

Gifty showing the new latch and padlock on the back door

Gifty showing the new latch and padlock on the back door

After all these repairs, I found myself with just a bit left over. So I purchased shoes for Kojo; clothing bags for Mavis, Doris, and Yvonne (three teenage girls whose clothing bags had been torn by mice); and used the rest toward medical expenses for several children.

Kojo with his new shoes

Kojo with his new shoes

Shelf in one of the girls' rooms that shows what the clothing bags look like

Shelf in one of the girls’ rooms that shows what the clothing bags look like

New clothing bag for Mavis!

New clothing bag for Mavis!

I want to give one last HUGE thank you to my donors! These projects seem small, but every little bit helps tremendously when we’re trying to protect and care for God’s precious children.

The kids sing a song that goes like this (pardon the questionably racist line – it’s still super cute when they sing it):

Jesus loves the little children
All the children of the world
Be they yellow, black, or white
All are precious in His sight
Jesus loves the little children of the world

From J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit: “Saruman believes it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found. I found it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love.”

After spending so much time and energy with 100 little ones, I found myself loving them more than I could possibly imagine. And I know (as they do) that Jesus Christ, our Savior, loves them, too. Thank you so much for your support and for showing your love for them. May we all continue to spread light and goodness throughout the world in whatever capacity we can.

Categories: Ghana Volunteer | Tags: , , , , | 1 Comment

A Series of Darling Events

This, my friends, is what happens when 5-year-old Irene tries to get 2-year-old Bebe onto her shoulders.


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A Miracle

Originally I began fundraising to build a manhole and wall at the back of Potter’s Village, but circumstances have changed, and we have a much bigger, much more progressive project! I wanted to share the news with my readers.

Check out the updates on my Ghana Fundraising page here!

I’m excited about our opportunities and am so grateful that the timing was right for me to still be here. I have less than two weeks left in Ghana.

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Meet the Kids, Part 2

I got a lot of positive feedback from my last “Meet the Kids” post, so I’d like to introduce you to a few more of my sweet (and sometimes naughty) Ghanaians 🙂

This is Richard.



Richard is 18…I think. He told me he is 15 and then suddenly last week, he said 18. I think 18 is correct. This is unfortunate because Richard is currently being taught English, how to read and write, and basic math. When I arrived, he wasn’t being tutored at all, but thanks to a brilliant volunteer who suggested that the volunteers tutor him, he’s making some progress. I’m working with him about an hour a day on English, and we’re still working on the names and sounds of each letter. It’s very rewarding work, and he is excited to learn. Richard isn’t enrolled in school and can’t be until we get past all the basics with him. He’s a really good kid, and it’s been fun to get to know him. Every day I’m amazed how well we communicate despite the language barrier.

This is Mercy and Isabella (“Abena”).

Mercy and Abena

Mercy and Abena

When you ask Abena what her name is, she’ll say “Isabella” the way an Italian would say it. It’s so so cute. Mercy and Abena are two of our 5-year-olds. They keep us on our toes with all their energy, but they also make us laugh all the time. When Mercy sees me from a distance, she opens her eyes really wide and puckers her lips. Of course, I do it back, and then we both laugh. She also says “Eesh!” all the time. Mercy spends a lot of time on my lap. Abena probably would, too, if she could sit still that long. By the way, her given name is Isabella; Abena is a Ghanaian name which is used depending on what day of the week a person is born. My Ghanaian name, as a female born on a Monday, is Ajoa (pronounced “Adjua”).

This is Florence (“Korkor,” pronounced “Coco”).



I use her given name and her house name interchangeably, but we’ll call her Coco here. Coco is 10, and I feel like she’s a kindred spirit. She is soft-spoken and gentle, though she definitely still likes to play with the other kids. She has a tendency to let the other kids take her things without standing up for herself. When she needs something, she is hesitant to ask, which makes me want to buy everything she wants (I won’t do that, of course). I have spent a lot of time with her recently because she got malaria, and I was the one in charge of administering her four medications. This morning, she came up to me with a little bouquet of white flowers, which I am now pressing into my journal. It was a perfect surprise first thing in the morning 🙂

This is Mawuli.



This kid should win an award for his smile. He also loves to sew buttons back onto uniforms when they fall off, and he’s pretty darn good at it! Except that one time when he sewed all of them facing inward. Haha. Mawuli is almost 13 but small for his age. He’s easy-going and very funny. He has several siblings who have lived at Potter’s Village, and Richard (above) is his brother. When Richard asked to have his shorts stitched, Mawuli volunteered to do it. Then he thought about it for a second and said, “No, I won’t sew his shorts because he ate my mango!” Hahaha. Laura and I still laugh about that little transaction.

This is Gifty.



The oldest of three girls named Gifty at Potter’s Village, this Gifty is 13 years old. She slid under our radar for a couple weeks somehow, and then once she learned our names, she started talking to us all the time. And yet she insists on calling Laura “obruni” (“foreigner”). When Laura doesn’t answer, Gifty finally caves and calls her by her name. Sometimes she’ll tell us she has homework and then just stands around talking to us for hours (literally), procrastinating. I suppose she’s training us for when we have our own teenage daughters. Haha

This is Comfort (“Connie”).



Connie makes herself known to volunteers the moment they enter the orphanage for the first time. Another one of our 5-year-olds, she hangs on legs and sits on laps. But with that beautiful face and sweet disposition, none of us can tell her to get off. In Ghana, it’s offensive to compare children to animals…but if it weren’t, I’d say Connie is a little lizard. Hilarious side note: She has got to have the hairiest legs I have ever seen on a child.

This is Benedict.



Baby Benny is the youngest at Potter’s Village. He turned 1 on January 1st, and he took his first steps while I have been here. Benny rarely has a diaper on and is often covered in food. But every time I break down my first-world barriers and hold him anyway, I fall in love with him all over again. He is the same age as my niece and nephew back home, which makes me a bit homesick, but I love seeing his big eyes every day.

And a note to the world from my 100 kids, painted on their wall:


Categories: Ghana Volunteer | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

The Projects

Hello, friends! As I’m settling down here in Ghana, I have found a couple of big projects to really help the orphanage – or, more specifically, to help these beautiful (and silly) little people:




To view the projects in detail, please click here. You can also view the page by going to Ghana Volunteer > Ghana Fundraising at the top of my blog.

Remember, any little bit you can donate would be very appreciated. And then spread the word! If many people donate just a little, together we can make a big impact.

I leave you a beautiful thought from my friends here at Potter’s Village:

Painted on the wall at Potter's Village

Painted on the wall at Potter’s Village

Thank you for sharing in this adventure with me.

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People are People

Today marks five weeks since I arrived at my placement in Ghana. It’s a little unreal that it has been that long, and at the same time, I feel like I’ve been here forever. I suppose any adventure that is so different from what I’m used to would feel like that.

Though many people from home have shared lessons that they’ve learned from experiences like this – most of which have to do with the happiness they find among people in developing countries – I’ve found that what I’m really learning here is that people are still just people, no matter their circumstances. Ghanaians are still just people. They have good days and bad days. Sometimes they have strong bodies and sound minds, and sometimes they have health problems. Some of them have needs that are not filled and wants that are, and they dream of better lives and more comfortable circumstances. They have both virtues and vices. They fight, they cry, they smile, they comfort small children and welcome newcomers. And most of all, they love. They build relationships and friendships. They attend church and school to build feelings of community and trust. They celebrate holidays and special occasions together. They wave to neighbors and spend hours laughing with friends. Are they happy? Yes, usually – but not always. Do they need help from developed countries? Certainly, though they are beginning to stand on their own feet.

So I think the real  lesson is not necessarily how to be happy with bad situations, but to recognize that people have struggles and dreams, challenges and happiness, interests and fears no matter who they are or where they live. When we help, we are helping people. When we love, we are loving people. And I find it inspiring to learn that human nature is to take the circumstances you’re given and make the best of them. Human nature is to love and be loved. Human nature – all over the world – is to believe, to hope, to dream that one day we will make it to higher ground.

I sincerely believe that if any of the good people in my life back home were born into these circumstances instead, they would do just as my beloved Ghanaians do. They would love and be happy, they would have goals and dreams, and they would make the best of it.

That being said, I want to tell a few fun stories about my Ghanaian neighbors. I am immersed in a new culture, and there are surprises at every turn. I find that Ghanaians are hilariously unpredictable.

About a week ago, Laura and I were visiting the Volta region to the north. We were in an area, Wli, that sees a lot of tourists due to the country’s highest waterfall (it literally falls from the top of the mountain, but that’s a different adventure). As we walked through the town of Wli, we received the usual attention from the locals when they see obruni. An older man said hello to Laura and then looked at me and asked if it was my first time to Ghana. I said, “Well, yes, but I’ve been here for a month.” He replied, “No! You are too white!” Through my laughter (and over Laura’s), I answered,  “I’m always white!” Haha. Sigh. Maybe I’ll be tan by the time I leave.

Story 2. On Saturday, we were in a huge market in Accra. A guy stopped us and hit on Nikki (I think they like her blonde hair, because she got loads of attention that day). He said, “I love you” to her, then turned and pointed at me and said, “I’m going to marry this one.” By then, all the locals within about 30 feet of us were watching. So he kissed Nikki on the cheek and walked away! The Ghanaians roared with laughter and cheered. So so funny.

During the African Cup of Nations (soccer, or “football”) a couple weeks ago, Ghana did really well and made it to the semi-finals. David, Laura, and I went with many of the kids to a nearby bar in Dodowa to watch it on TV. The match had started by the time we arrived, so we snuck into a dimly lit room and were offered seats. All the tables had been stacked on the sides to make room for as many people as possible. It was hot and stuffy and so fun to watch with the locals. There was a guy at the back of the room who was pacing back and forth and yelling things like, “God’s judgment has come upon you!” at the opposing team. And then there was a guy sitting near the front who kept standing up every time he was excited. Since soccer has no time-outs, everyone behind him missed part of the game every time he stood up. The other men in the room got so fed up with him! At one point, they moved his chair to the back of the room, and he just moved it back. Then later, he and the owner started shouting at each other so much that I think they were seconds from breaking into a fist fight. The moral? Men can be idiots while watching sports no matter where they’re from 😉 By the way, Ghana lost to Burkina Faso in penalty kicks. It was so disappointing.

This one’s good. We were walking with some of the kids, asking about their school day. Bridgit, who’s 12 and very sweet, told us that they (the students) spent the afternoon trimming tree branches in the school yard instead of having classes. Haha. Apparently the boys climbed the trees to cut the branches, and then the girls stacked the branches (which were pretty big, by the way) and swept. Here’s the kicker. After explaining this, Bridgit, still completely composed, calmly added, “A snake fell out of one of the trees, and a boy killed it with his hands.” Man, I wish I had a picture of the volunteers’ faces at that moment.

One day, we were in the trotro station, and we had already sat down on the trotro. I was sitting by the window, and this random guy outside started asking for my phone number. It was the first time this had happened to me here, so I was just laughing and not really answering him. He asked repeatedly until the trotro started pulling away, and then he jumped on the back of the trotro! He was telling me to give my number to the mate (the guy who gathers fare from passengers) so that he could pass it on to him later. The volunteers were all laughing hard, and I imagine some of the locals were as well 🙂

Laura was talking to one of the younger girls, Abigail, after school. She asked what she had learned in school that day, and Abigail said she hadn’t learned anything. Laura asked why, and she replied, “Madame wasn’t there.” Apparently her teacher just never showed up. All day. Haha. On a related note, Laura went to the school four days in a row, and she never saw the teacher she needed to speak with. And our first week, we attended a PTA meeting, and after we had been there for an hour, the meeting still hadn’t started. We left, had a meeting with Mama Jane at the orphanage, ate lunch, and then one of the volunteers went to the PTA meeting. By then, it was four hours after the supposed start time, and she only missed about a half hour of the meeting! That, friends, is what we call Ghana time.

One more quick one. We have a 15 year old boy, Richard, who barely knows English and can’t read or write. We’re tutoring him one-on-one, and we’re still working on the letters of the alphabet – as basic as you can get. Then one day, I walked into the orphanage, and Richard called out, “What’s up, girl?” Hahaha. I don’t know who taught him that phrase, but thank you. I’m still laughing about it, days later.

Okay, so Ghanaians are not the same as Americans. But I think, deep down under the social bluntness and the forward men and the children killing animals with their bare hands, people are people, no matter where you go.

Want to help? Visit here to see what you can do for Potter’s Village.

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Meet the Kids

I want to introduce you to a few of the kids I’ve met in Ghana. This is just a tiny sampling since we have something like 90 children in our care here. Nonetheless, they are beautiful and worth sharing…and I’m feeling a bit guilty for not posting about them more 🙂

This is Pakwesi (sounds like “Pakosi”).


Pakwesi is about 4 years old (I’m guessing with most of their ages, since we don’t even know birthdays for many of them). Pakwesi has a beautiful big smile, and I discovered very quickly that his love language is physical touch – just like me! He has nearly tipped me over many times by hugging my legs. He doesn’t speak much English, but I had the priceless opportunity to walk him to his very first day of school and hold him on my lap – with all his nervous excitement – as we waited for the headmistress. (Note: the little guy in the background is Doe. I will get to him.)

This is Edith (pronounced more like Edit).


Edith is a twin. I don’t have a photo of her sister Judith (yet), but I don’t think they’re identical. I haven’t spoken with Edith much because  with all her pent-up energy after school, she spends most of her time swinging – literally – on another volunteer, Laura.

This is Kennedy.


When he came out in his “jacket” (aka winter coat, as you can see) on a slightly chilly morning on which I was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, I just had to laugh. Kennedy is about 5. He’s the type of kid who causes trouble without meaning to, and it’s impossible to not fall in love with him instantly. Very cute little guy with a sweet temperament.

This is Irene.


A 5 year old little terror might be the simplest way to describe Irene. Haha. She is everywhere at once – getting into things, climbing on things, breaking shoes and ripping dresses, and beating the other children. One day, she told a volunteer out of the blue, “If you look at me, I will beat you.” To be fair, I need to also say that we LOVE this little monster. She has tons of energy and makes us laugh every day.

This is Gifty.


Though she’s smiling with her balloon, Gifty is often a bit sulky. I think she just needs a little extra love. Always wanting to hug me or lean on my shoulder or hold my hand, Gifty has become a bit of an accessory to my wardrobe 🙂 She taught me a poem that goes like this:

Ant, ant, ant
Look at yourself
It’s like a one broom
No, no, no
It’s God who created me like that.

Don’t bother with the terrible grammar; when I tried to correct it, she was frustrated because I was saying it wrong. Haha. She was also very excited when I still remembered the whole poem several days later. Ten points for me!

This is Martha, Doe, and Gifty (same Gifty as above, though we actually have three girls with that name).


Martha is also a twin, though she looks more like her older sister Angela than her twin, Mary (in my opinion). Still, it took several days to get the three of them straight. Martha is another accessory to my wardrobe. She has proved useful as I learn the kids’ names because I ask her all the time. She also seems to be always injured (including a nasty infected blister on the bottom of her foot that she used as an excuse – before it was infected – to get out of school for a week). Overall, I have a special place in my heart for Martha.

Doe is smiling in this picture, which is a very rare thing. He and his younger brother were abandoned and were brought to the orphanage in June. They both have sad faces and tears much of the time, but in the 4 short weeks I’ve been here, they have made amazing strides. Doe no longer fights getting ready for school, interacts with the kids more, laughs more, and I can’t remember the last time I witnessed a tantrum. It is really amazing to watch. Though he doesn’t know English or Twi, he is communicating more and more each day. Like Martha, I have a special connection with Doe. I think I may be among the first adults to speak gently with him despite the frustration of having him not respond at all. The first morning he willingly walked to school with me will always stand out as a major triumph of my time here.

Two more, and I will do them together, as they seem to be a miniature dynamic duo. Presenting the 3-year-olds, Godwyn and Beauty.



Godwyn reminds me a ton of my nephew Rader. A solid little build and award-winning smile, this kid manages to be a fan favorite among basically all the volunteers who pass through. He is gentle and pleasant (at least, gentle by a 3-year-old’s standards), and I would gladly put him in my pocket and take him home with me. He likes to tease me, too, which always makes me laugh.

Beauty is pouty every morning until she eats breakfast, and then she becomes very happy and a bit of a show-off. It’s hilarious. She and Godwyn both speak excellent English as well as Twi, but I swear sometimes they speak to each other in a language that’s all their own. They play together, watch out for each other, wait at the bus stop together, tease each other, and laugh at each other. I love it. And them.

There you have it! For now. I realized I have no photos of our amazingly helpful teenagers, and I have many more stories to tell. Till next time 🙂

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We Are Saying Thank You, Jesus

Each morning at Potter’s Village, they have a “devotion,” where they sing several religious songs, pray, and hear a spiritual message from one of the resident reverends or one of the older kids. One of the songs has been stuck in my head all day. It says, “We are saying thank you, Jesus. Thank you, my Lord.” I think those are the only words, but repeated many times.

First of all, I love starting each day with this devotional, even though I only understand half of it. I hope to learn many of their songs while I’m here. Anyway…because of this song, I’ve been contemplating the many tender mercies God has shown me since I left home – and they are many. No bug bites, no sunburn, only minor sickness, easy-going fellow volunteers, safety in crowds, running into the missionaries from my faith on Saturday so that I could find the church Sunday morning, two fellow volunteers who joined me for church even though they knew nothing about it, children who warm up quickly and show love constantly, a cook who makes popcorn (a snack I eat nearly every day at home and thought I would really miss) every morning which helps me feel at home here, a baby who contracted malaria and was able to come home from the hospital today, and many, many others. “Thank you, my Lord.”

Today I successfully and safely rode a trotro by myself to Madina and back (about 45 minutes each way). I also learned how to wash my clothes by hand…and realized what a wussy American I am when a 15 year old girl (Mawrine) took pity on me and began to help. I have only washed my underwear so far, and yet my hands are actually raw. But I’ll get it down!

At the orphanage, I spent some time having the kids read to me. Some of them are really good at it!


Speaking of tender mercies, three new volunteers came today, just as we were beginning to worry that we wouldn’t have enough help. They are only here for a couple of weeks more (they transferred from another orphanage placement in Ghana), but it’s great to have them!

Today I also said goodbye to seven of our teenagers who, thanks to a lot of time and dedication from one of the volunteers, are heading to senior high school (boarding school) in the morning. They are each receiving money from sponsors, which allows them to finish their education! It’s very, very cool. There are still a few who are waiting for sponsor money in order to go, but this is a great start!

Stay tuned for my experience with a Ghanaian band. It’s a great story with some fun videos. For now, goodnight!

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Akwaaba! You are welcome to Ghana

A gecko just climbed up the inside wall of my house. No joke. I think it’s so cool.

“Akwaaba” means “welcome” in Twi (pronounced more like Chwee). And I cannot even count the number of times I have heard it in the past few days. Ghanaians are beautiful, laid back, social people. They always say “You are welcome to Ghana.” I love it. They call foreigners “obruni,” so we hear that all the time, too, especially in the markets when they want us to spend money. haha. It’s not offensive at all–just cultural. They take the time to greet each other on the streets, especially in the small village I am in, and they all run on “Ghanaian time,” which can be anywhere from 10 minutes to 5 hours early or late. It’s going to take a long time to adjust to that.

The trip over here was LONG, and I was quite nauseous during my last flight (London to Accra) and for the first day and a half here. We worried a little that the sickness might be from the anti-malarial drugs, but the timing was wrong, so I think I was just exhausted. Anyway, I slept it off and am back to normal!

We (8 new volunteers) were picked up at the airport and driven to Eddie’s house for the first night (the man who owns Ghana Volunteer Corps Organization). I was in a taxi with a staff member and one other volunteer. The driving is crazy! They squeeze through tiny gaps in traffic, and there are no street signs, addresses, or even lanes on the road. They do, however, drive on the right side of the road instead of the left, which surprised me.

Accra, the capital, is HUGE. We’re going to see it officially tomorrow, and it will be very different from where I’m living now. I was assigned to an orphanage in Dodowa (pronounced doh doh WAH), which is supposedly “45 minutes” outside Accra, but I swear the drive took much longer than that. Ghanaian “time.” The orphanage, Potter’s Village, has 115 kids! The youngest is 1, the oldest is about 19. We don’t know exact birthdates for a lot of them, so ages are sort of a guessing game. Potter’s Village is so named because they are “molding” the children into successful people. The lady who runs the orphanage is Mama Jane (Jane Irina Adu), and she is a reverend, a teacher, an author, and a traveling speaker. She has made extraordinary educational/empowerment efforts among women in Africa, and she is truly amazing. She left her rich life to begin Potter’s Village because she believes it is the calling God has given her. Mama Jane is respected and loved by the children–and, I’m sure, by everyone else who knows her. 30 seconds in her presence would give anyone the impression that they are secure, safe, important, and loved.

The house I’m staying in is basically at the same poverty level as most of the village. We have two toilets and a “shower,” but all three require bringing buckets of water from huge barrels outside the house. I actually like the bucket showers. When I’m hot and sweaty (which I basically always am here), pouring water over me feels REALLY good.

Some things I’ve learned about Ghana:

  • Their mangos are delicious
  • They are VERY religious. I pass stores all the time with names like “Unbreakable Man Furniture,” “Jesus is One Carpentry” and “God’s Grace Salon”
  • Most Ghanaians speak in some mixture of Twi and English. The kids love teaching us Ghanaian slang (and we love learning it!)
  • Drinking water comes in little plastic 500 mL bags. It actually tastes really good, though the bags take a little getting used to.
  • Trotros are the cheapest way to get around. They are like big vans, and it’s a mixture between a taxi and a bus system. You basically just stand on the side of the road and get on the first one that is going to the place you want to go. It’s hot, crowded, and very cheap. And quite the experience 🙂
  • The roads have red dirt
  • Bucket “showering” feels really good but is essentially useless, since I am dirty within about 1 minute of stepping out of it.
  • There are random goats and chickens wandering all over through the streets
  • The humidity never goes away
  • They still cane children at school for misbehaving
  • They apparently don’t see white people very much. I’m quite a spectacle 🙂

So there you have it! Hello from beautiful Ghana!

Categories: Ghana Volunteer | Tags: , , , , , | 8 Comments