the dispensary

a package arrived for me and the handwriting was my mothers. she had told me she 'sent me a little something for Christmas' so i grabbed the gift and coveted it for about an hour, pacing the lawn outside the clinic, waiting for the perfect time to see what was inside.

the perfect time would be in solitude, this i knew from experience.

when i had studied abroad, my mom sent me a parcel that was light. i opened it on campus, as students walked by. they were probably wondering why i had a huge granny bra dangling from my fingertips. i quickly tucked it back into its original spot, i wanted to keep it hidden till i got home. unfortunately for me, Ghanaians do not hide curiosity. every person i met on the walk back to my hostel that day asked me what exactly was i holding? i didn't want them to know- or see- mostly due to how gigantic the thing was. it lacked style and was a poor representation of how i wanted to be imagined with my clothes off, if i wanted to be imagined at all. at any rate, it was something a 22 year old should not be wearing, even if it did fit.

the present that i was holding now was just a little heavier. i figured i'd go into the dispensary, where only Vera and Efreeyeh hang out, and unwrap my gift.

when i walked in no one was around. perfect! i quickly scrambled and tore it open. i read the card, was warmed by the contact, and thankfully examined the pictures they sent. it was nice to see familiar faces, even if they were just prints. the glow of the night we took the pictures shone through every ones faces. it had been a great last night. we ate Caesar salad and played Catchphrase with our closest family friends. the choice of game was a little ironic considering i'd be spending the next 6 months trying to have people guess what i was saying. an appropriate send off to say the least.

i finished up my packing with a stomach full of anxiety, but a night well spent with people i love got me through and kept me sleeping. My best friend stayed the night, reminiscent of our childhood sleepovers, except now we slept in separate beds. we had grown.

when i was through with the photos i reached into the padded envelope and pulled out handful after handful of fresh crisp underwear. she had really gone all out, buying funky styles and patterns, all in designer brands.

Vera walked in while my lap was littered in lingerie.

"Christmas!" i explained.

her teeth are as big as Efreeyeh's but placed differently. instead of gapping in the front they fan out, like a hand of cards held upside down. she's small but has a big butt, so i tried to convince her to take a pair. i wanted to spread the Christmas love.

she grabbed some pastel flowered full bottomed undies and wrapped the length of the waist around her neck.

"they're too big!" she laughed and threw them back at me.

she knew the trick! how did she know the trick? i thought only me and my closest girlfriends knew that trick. in fact, i thought we had discovered it.

13 years old and scavenging rummage sales and second hand stores, we'd claim to have found 'the perfect pair of corduroys' which to us, was the equivalent of having just been given a Faberge egg. close to impossible.

we'd wrap the waist around our necks, and if it went around completely and didn't double wrap, they were perfect. that rarely ever happened, but when it did we'd secretly envy the other person and how great their future was about to become because of those pants.

Efreeyeh walked in and gave me her doubtful inquisitive look. she always assumes i am up to no good, or don't understand what is going on- but she likes me, this i know. she thinks i'm funny and foreign, like a new pet hamster.

"who gave you those?" her voice is the next step up from deep, and she speaks bluntly.

"my mom sent them, aren't they cute?"

she agreed, they were sweet. she picked up a pen drive that had fallen out of a wrapped up pair of underwear. "whats this?"

"its for my computer, for when i type."

"ahhhh" she still didn't understand but was pretending like she did. i knew this look because i had become a professional at it.

"i'll show you the next time we are in the office." i said.

"hm, okay."

i didn't let them know i had actually gotten 4 of them. i wanted them to think i was a simple girl, that i really only needed one of everything, except undies.

"your mother loves you too much!" Vera said, she started grabbing my gifts and sprinkling them over my head, again and again, chanting how much my mom loves me and laughing at how ridiculous i looked covered in g-strings.

She and Efreeyeh like to gang up on me and laugh and poke fun. I look forward to time spent in the dispensary because i can relate with them in a youthful fresh sort of way. We talk about life, and love, and which songs on the radio are worthy or not. I sit there, talk, and count pills. I sort and package them and write the instructions for the labels.

Take 2 pills, 3 times daily.

It makes me feel important, esp. when no cases are coming in. I suddenly snap into Ms. Efficient and try to get as many done as possible. I try to let the ladies know that i might not be able to give somebody a shot (yet) but when the time comes to give out medicine i can package it in a jiffy.

The girls just laugh at me and ask if i am tired yet.

"and you will have to learn." Vera says "you will have to learn how to give an injection. let me tell you this. you can't feel other peoples pain. if you feel their pain you won't ever be able to be a midwife. you have to be strong, but not too sensitive. like me, i can prick you with a needle and laugh."

i looked over at Efreeyeh.

"it's true." she chimed.

i looked at them both. i wondered if i'd ever be able stick a needle in someone and laugh. i didn't think so. but then, the point wasn't being made maliciously, it was just a fact. she could do it. i couldn't.

"well when i learn, if i don't learn here, i'll make sure to come back to Boamadumase and stick you both, and laugh."

when we all thought this was funny i knew our friendship was only going to get better.

please, can you help me?

taking bucket baths is fun, i've found.

its a challenge, especially with long hair.

you get one pail of water to do the job. and if i'm careful enough i'll have the right amount left over that i can even use conditioner, but that takes diligent conservation. i can't just splash around.

i have a frugal disposition, i never like to run out comlpletely. i like to save. i like to keep an inch of water at the bottom of my bucket, just because. i'm the same way when i chop vegetables, leaving a chunk on the cutting board instead of throwing it all into the stirfry. it pays off well with some things, like my finances, and appears to be wasteful with others. this style of living is how i afford my travels.

the other night i had been rough with my hair, and knew i wouldn't be able to have a little extra water left AND condition. i had really scrubbed, lathering up my orange essence shampoo into a huge puffy cloud resting high above my head. this is not a good thing to do with limited water at hand, but the day was dusty and it all settled over me, wrapping me up in a dirt cloth. i needed to get clean.

after i dried off, my hair had really turned into a disaster. it looked like seven scraggly 4 year olds who just woke up from naptime had donated to Locs of Love, and i had bought the wig.

it was nighttime, the house was dark, so i walked outside and around the corner to the dining room to where a lantern was burning. i wanted to brush it all out in the light.

Sakola was sitting at the dining room table, relaxing. i sat down next to him and began the work at hand, ripping and working the brush through the mess i had created. i quickly got tired and offered him the brush. i even turned my chair around in the perfect hairdressor/client position. i was curious to see if he would be interested at all.

he took the brush from my hand and smiled. he stood up and started to untangle what was in front of him.

i closed my eyes and let him do all the work. it's a tough life having long hair. i never knew this, until it grew.

he brushed and brushed, like i was his doll. when he got close to my ears he paid special attention, like he was dealing with the top secret intricacies, like MacGyver. he'd move slowly down my scalp and then whip the brush down my back towards the end of my hair.

if this was a profession, he was qualified, and hired.

not only was i enjoying every moment, i think the oddity of a white woman's hair had him hypnotized into never leaving my side. we were there, in the dim light, listening to sounds rumbling far off in the village, for quite some time. i didn't feel uncomfortable once. i loved every second of it.

brush brush brush brush. brush brush brush brush. no words, just brushing. occasionally the comb would find a newly formed tangle. it'd snag and i would hear Sakola say "saahhhri" in English.

i thought about what HE was thinking about, and how he could have possibly been doing this for so long. i giggled, he laughed too and handed me my brush.

"Dayie (sleep well)" he said.

"You too."

i went to bed enjoying the simplicity of what had just occurred and a head full of smooth hair.

pehpeh and paste

"my sister, listen attentively. Please approach!"

the voice was coming from behind a house. it was the most formal beckoning i had ever received. i knew what was coming. the man just wanted to say good morning. i wasn't in the mood to work my way in that direction, i had an important errand to attend to and i couldn't' quite place where the call was coming from. that meant i would have to weave my way off my path, and greet at least 20 other people by the time i finally reached the stranger who wanted to speak with me. i would sit with him, tell him all about myself and George Bush and leave.

i wasn't really in the mood, so instead i walked and hid myself between small mud houses and old dilapidated concrete structures. I was having fun, with my secret game of hide-and -seek, until i was interrupted.

"Oh hello!" this was a different voice, but it was familiar. i needed to see the person to recognize them. his sound was soft, and persuading.

i turned.

"oh my soccer friend! how are you?" i asked. i hadn't seen him since the game and i was thankful to him for having included me.

"well i'm doing better now. but the other day did you not realize i hurt myself in the first 10 minutes of the match?"

i hadn't noticed, i thought we had played the entire game together. his look was so distraught i had to lie.

"of course i noticed! what happened? one minute you were playing and the next you were gone!"

he was relieved, i recognized his pain and absence. "well, you see, my opponent came at me with force at a time most unexpected" he pointed at his shin "and left this."

it was a small bruise, barely noticeable.

"why didn't you play with the heart of a lion?" i thought i'd remind him of his own advice, joke around a bit.

"oh but he was too rough!"

my friend was whining. he was of a different breed. he was flimsy and weak and living in the village. i wondered about his life, and questioned his work ethic. he wasn't strong from long hard days at the farm, like the brothers.

"well you see i had to stop playing. i thought you didn't notice but i am glad to see that my presence was missed. now sister, i don't know your English name. You say you are Akua. Akua what?"

i liked how he spoke. it was precise, questioning, confidant, and unique.

"Akua Kacie."

"okay, Kacie. I too, I am Yusif. or Joseph. But i am Muslim, so i go by Yusif, you see."

"it is a pleasure Yusif."

"i am the only boy in my family. We have me and 3 girls. So i am also called Tanka. You can call me Tanka if you like."

oh so maybe that was it. he kicked back while his sisters did all the work.

"okay Tanka. i'd like to know, do you live in the village?"

"yes."

"what do you do here?" or more aptly, what don't you do?

"i am a teacher at a private primary school, just down the road."

respect and admiration quickly replaced my judgement and doubt.

i applauded him and asked what he taught. he told me about all his subjects and the students in his class. they were on break at the moment, but when school was back in session he wants me to come and stay for a day.

"just so you may observe and see how school is like here in Ghana."

"i'd love to. you can call for me at the clinic, i am there all week."

"well then, i should let you continue on your way. and i will be seeing you shortly i am sure, if not at the clinic i will see you at school. good bye."

"good bye."

we shook hands and snapped fingers towards the end of the release, its the intimate way friends shake hands.

i continued on looking to complete my errand, my very important errand, when i heard another voice. this one i knew. it was Secetry.

"Keesssyyyy!" explosions of masculine giggles and another "Akua Kessy!"

"Secetry!!!!!!!!!!! Hello! How are you?"

"I am fine and you?"

"I am also fine."

"well its nice that i have seen you. I have been wanting you to meet the Chief for quite some time and he is around today. He needs to be meeting the white woman in the village, so come let us go!"

I couldn't refuse him, and didn't want to. We shimmied our way up uneven dirt road between the buildings i had just walked through when i was hiding from the man earlier. I didn't hear his voice again, he must have gone inside. We walked out onto the main road passing a small stand selling candy and single packets of detergent. When we got to the end of the village's main road we stood at the base of the steps of a fair sized home.

i looked up the stairs onto the porch. a small boy was staring back at us, and after Secetry asked him to go get the Chief, we walked up the stairs through a doorway into the central courtyard. the house was set up where the living quarters were on the perimeter, so we were standing in the middle of the building with the open sky above us.

the chief walked out from a dark doorway over in my direction. He was tall and sturdy. i shook his hand. he pointed to the chair that had just been placed next to me and told me to sit, so i did.

"welcome to Boamadumase." he said.

then we went through the usual. when that part came to a close he assured me "you are living in a safe village. if anything is disturbing you please come to me. i will correct it at once."

i was glad he said that. i had royal protection.

when it came time for conversation, i felt trite being casual so instead i silenced myself and secretly focused on the odd noise that was coming out of his closed mouth (like he was knocking around a dislodged tooth with his tongue).

Secetry took this as disinterest and tried to spawn some interaction.

He said "this is the chief kessy! of Boama!"

he was greatly affected, turning into a small stuttering boy in the Chiefs company and thanking him for letting us come to visit. i was conflicted, wanting to talk but having nothing important to say. so i stood up to follow Secetry out. the meeting had been short and respectful, after all he was my elder and silence was interpreted as reverence.

"Please sit down." the chief said. He leaned back in his chair and Secetry returned. After some quick talk in Twi a little boy ran out of the house with a handful overflowing of little round pebbles. He put them in the Chief's hand and the Chief deposited them in mine.

I looked at the round pebbles. I prayed to God they weren't some esoteric bush hallucinogen. I wasn't in the mood to trip out with the town's Chief on some local African drug. Maybe 10 years ago, not now.

"Dr. Ed Gold loves pehpeh, try some."

Dr. Ed Gold is the founder of the organization I am working with. He lives abroad and makes yearly visits to the clinic. I don't know him, could i trust him? I looked at the round pebbles. Pehpeh is what i thought he said, but it escaped his lips in such a low tone i could barely make it out. i examined what was in my palm. Pepper. Yes, it was black pepper. I hoped.

I popped it into my mouth and pretended to chew. i was preparing to keep it in the pocket of my cheek and spit it out once i left. i motioned my jaw up and down and hummed in approval.

the Chief yelled at me and told me to EAT IT.

i kept pretending.

i didn't want to EAT IT. i preferred faking it.

Secetry laughed and told me it would be delicious.

i wasn't fooling anyone, there were no loud crunching noises coming from my mouth like they were from Chiefs and i was only seconds away from seriously offending him. i bit down hard and the pepper balls exploded in my mouth. i chewed and chewed and swallowed and coughed. the flavor spread from my mouth up into my nostrils, then deep into my eye sockets and up into my head, back and around through the tips of my ears.

it was way too much pepper! i was suffering politely, looking at the Chief wondering why he had handed me so much and told me to eat it all. i needed water. i wanted to leave.

"do you like it?" he asked.

"its delicious."

that was the second time i had lied that day.

"yes. thank you. it is our local pepper."

i glanced over at my friend and motioned a 'lets get outta here' nod. he caught it and we said our goodbyes. the second i was out of the Chiefs arena i spit, choked, gagged and generally acted over dramatic.

"the pehpeh is too much?!" Secetry asked.

"YES! i don't like it, i need water now!"

we walked from shop to shop as the pehpeh's heat seemed to recycle itself through my head. every time i removed a pepper kernel from my tooth it reactivated the entire incident. i pondered death from a pepper overdose.

"there is no water. sorry." Secetry said.

"okay, something, anything will do. beer, coca cola. i don't care."

"Kalypo?"

"sure." i said. "but wait? what is Kalypo?" striking up the first stages of another frenzy of paranoia.

"it is fruit juice."

fruit juice would be just fine.

he delivered the drink and we sat in the shade as i recuperated. he laughed at my foolish ways, and my fear of pepper. after my body cooled off i laughed too. but the taste was still in my mouth.

"so Kessy, what was this important task you had to get done?"

he was referring to my errand.

i carefully explained to him the importance, or desire, of eating familiar food once and a while. "you know, that's why Ghanaians smuggle in their local yams to America, or so i've heard. it's nice to eat your own food sometimes. so today i set out for peanut butter. i want to find some peanut butter."

"peanut butter?"

i fixed my language. "i mean groundnut paste. i took a bus ride with an English guy living in a village north of here. he said they had groundnut paste where he was at so i know they have it here."

"come Kessy, come." Secetry brought me to a small table i have passed every day on my walk to work. Wrapped up in a small plastic bag was the familiar gooey paste i was looking for. i bought it for 1,000 cedis. about 10 cents. i ripped a hole in the corner and squeezed it into my mouth, slowly letting it smooth over the bitter after taste from the morning spent with the Chief.

after i was through i thanked Secetry for the morning and told him i had to go home now to drink some water.

We laughed and parted ways. It had been a full day. i found the peanut butter AND met the Chief, i considered the two as equally important.

storytime with Ma

"i plan on taking a trip to Cameroon sometime in the upcoming months, i just thought i'd tell you now."

i know how Ma likes advanced notice. i didnt want to spring this up on her too soon so i brought it up during one of our silent moments.

"Cameroon?" she raised an eyebrow.

"yes. some of my family lives there, i want to see them while i'm here."

"okay." she said, as if she was allowing me to go.

i looked out the window behind her head at the laundry drying on the clothesline. someone had washed the sheets on all the beds. i was glad to see this. i was also glad to have walked in early that morning and caught Efreeyeh sterilizing all the medical supplies used in delivering. i questioned the sanitary conditions of the clinic sometimes, while also skeptical of my neurotic self.

Ma bent her head down low and drew in air, from her belly up. she was filling herself up with something reminiscent but i had no idea what. i thought it'd be best not to ask.

"Ccaaammmerrooonnn. ahhhhhh." she said. a slight breeze came in and left just as quickly.

i could feel something coming from Ma, if only i kept quiet.

"Cammeerrroooon, hmmmmmmmm."

she moved her head from side to side, slowly, like she was cracking her neck.

"i used to work in Ho. did you know that?"

i had no idea.

"yes, i was a midwife there for quite sometime. and also at a nearby village to Ho, some 17 miles. This was quite some time back."

i settled back in my chair, expectant and excited at the first story Ma was ever to tell me.

"i was transfered after my training to the Volta region, away from Kumasi." she spoke the way you'd expect an old experienced elder to speak, slow and deliberate, remembering first then telling.

"At first i was not wanting to go, i was married and my husband did not want to leave. So i took my child and left to be a midwife there, in Ho. I worked hard, veeerry hard. I spent quite some time there. The life of a midwife is not easy, i will tell you that. Hmpf. It is hard. But i became well known. People, they liked how i delivered."

she rolled her neck a little more and fidgeted her plump soft hands.

"one day a woman came to the clinic, in the village. she was from Cameroon. she was very pregnant, too close to delivering. she said she had traveled the distance to be delivered by me."

a self-satisfied smile crept over her face.

"some person in Cameroon had heard of me and told this woman to come. she was wanting a natural birth but she had torn badly from her last one. she needed hands that could help. she was inches away from being hurt seriously. true. she did not want to tear any further, it would be too serious. so she came to me, by bus, through Cameroon then Nigeria, she made her way across Benin and Togo to Ghana. Hmmmm. it is a long way. even longer at 9 months."

i soaked in her words and the way she was telling me her history. i felt regret at not having realized the treasure chest that i sat with everyday.

"well i delivered her nicely, gently. it was sweet and she was happy. she thanked me and promised to give me soooo many things in return. she said 'oh madame, how can i repay you. i will give you this and that...' she then returned to cameroon and i never heard from her again, promising but nothing."

i let out a little noise to let her know i was interested and listening.

"any way, she was a nice lady. Cameroon. when i hear Cameroon i think of her. she traveled so far, just to see me. she was brave. she never gave me anything. hmpf."

she took her fingers and tore back a rip in the plastic table cloth which covered her desk, making it larger. tiny ants lived in that tear, and marched their way out whenever we ate and left behind crumbs. Mas eyes were too old to notice, the ants here are small and resemble specks of dust. i've never took the time to tell her they were there, figuring she wouldn't care. but now they were coming out of their spot, using Mas fingers as ladders, climbing up onto her hands.

"thank you Ma for sharing with me. it seems you are good at what you do, if people will travel through 5 countries to get to you!"

she laughed, felt the ants, and brushed them from her body.

i thought i should buy her a new tablecloth. this one was ragged but festively decorated with bunches of strawberries and blooming flowers. it made the office cheery.

"well any way" she said "you should go. you will have a nice trip."

"i hope so. if i see your lady friend i'll ask her where your promises are."

Ma laughed again, once, and coughed three times.

"okay." she said, pleased at the thought.

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