me the mopper *6*

Last night when i came in from town i walked through Senam's fathers living room and caught him hiding in the hallway. He was hunkered down, in the dark, hoping i wouldn't see him. It was awkward to say the least, because he didn't say anything except stared at me and let out a few uncomfortable giggles. I walked back into the living room and looked at Senam.

"Is your father trying to hide from me?" i asked.

He laughed and nodded his head.

"Why?" i needed to know.

"Because he was relaxing with no shirt on. He didn't want you to see him."

Ohhhh. I didn't realize that would be embarrassing to him, considering just a few feet outside his door grown men urinate in broad daylight.

Senam's family is from a different line of thinking, more affluent, or western, i suppose. I haven't decided which it is. the concept of "privacy" is slowly fading in my life, having lived in a village for one month now. I watch very personal things happen in full view, and working at a birthing clinic is exposing me to VERY intimate vulnerable times in peoples lives.

Sometimes I feel guilty, like i've somehow slipped through the cracks and have been included in situations i have no qualifications for. and because i'm white, some people in the village call me "the doctor." i've learned how to say, i am not a doctor, in twi. i use the phrase a lot. mostly when people come up to me and pull down their eyelids or show me some large growth on their limbs, or cough and ask me for medicine. i am not a doctor i say. but i have a big heart and am trying to help in some way or another.

it seems my tactics don't quite fit in. the midwife i am working with, Ma, is a tough love kind of woman. if a lady has been laboring for hours, and failed to visit the clinic for prenatals, Ma will yell at her and tell her

"your labor would have been shorter and less painful if you would have come. its your fault!"

if she is feeling the pain of contractions, and wants to lie down, Ma's assistant Efreeyeh will swat her (lovingly) and tell her to STAND UP and WALK! the woman just stays there and moans.

I cringe at all this, thinking 'poor woman'. I try to smile a lot at her and help her around but since i don't know the language i have no idea what she needs.

"whats she saying?" i ask them.

"she is saying 'God forgive me'"

then i hear another phrase.

"whats she saying now?"

"she is saying she is cold."

I shut the window that was blowing air into the room and hope that helps. Ma and Efreeyeh glance at each other and laugh.

I am very new. I am like that just hired employee who strives to do the best possible work, with or without the boss around. I reek of eagerness.

after having watched Ma and Efreeyeh work their magic, and once the baby is swaddled and stuck in the nursery, its time for clean up. this is the only aspect i feel comfortable with, or i should say, experienced with. i know how to clean. i've been cleaning my whole life, so i approach it with great vigor and dedication. i turn into a new woman, less of the wide-eyed and more of the furrowed brow sort.

"give me the mop" i tell Efreeyeh.

she hands it over and i mop like a mad woman. she goes outside to empty the bucket that holds the placenta and all the other yummy stuff that comes after birth. when she comes back in i am still mopping, hard.

"the floor looks good, you can stop now." she says.

i'm not close to stopping at any time. i am really enjoying myself.

"you can stop" she repeats.

i look up and grip the mop a little tighter. i don't want to stop. i am the expert mopper, does she want to take that away from me?

"okay" i say sheepishly, and i put the mop away.

one day, i might be delivering babies with the confidence i use in mopping.