Yup, I’m still hanging in Cape Coast, although I enjoyed a weeks respite in Accra at a workshop designed to evaluate the training I just survived last fall. I was honored to be one of the five from my group asked to participate. Not a surprise to be the oldest and the mouthiest. I had three agendas that I wouldn’t rest: self-defense practice for the women trainees here (most important for the young women); increased women on the PCs training staff to reflect the proportion of women trainees (we were roughly 50/50 as trainees, but trainers were 80/20—men/women); and, finally, use evaluations during training, even daily—include all the stakeholders and especially the trainees.

Besides feeling that I contributed something, I also had the joy of meeting four PCVs from the teacher group. They are definitely a fun bunch. Currently, about 50 teachers volunteer with PC in Ghana. Their focus is math, science, IT and art in deaf schools. Guess which bunch I liked the most?? Art-deaf teachers, you bet!! Two live near me, both gals--one in Takaradi (toc ah rod dee) about an hour west, another only about a ½ hour away at Cape Deaf School—Kate and Erica. Yippee, new friends!!

So, after a cushy week in the capital in an air-conditioned hotel with a per diem, now I’m back in house-limbo-land. STILL in the Cape Coast guesthouse, but I’m now decidedly closer to the Abrafo house than ever before (ah-bra-FOE, last syllable rises in pitch, almost always). Or so the NGO boys claim. They say that I’ll be moving by the end of this week. Show me the keys, boys!! Show me the house, boys!!

I have been informed that the toilet is finally installed, although I haven’t inspected the work yet. The toilet moved from the inside of the house into an outside latrine, which looks like a modern cement version of our old outhouses. They evidently couldn’t plumb the house—yes, hole digging preceded plumbing in our evolutionary past. For safety reasons, I’m not especially keen on trotting outside in the middle of the night and for that very reason I was thrilled to discover that this country sports a brisk commercial trade in modern chamber pots. I bought one for only 6,000 cedis (see dees). Next, I realized that I’m not really keen on carrying my “pot” around either, what would be the appropriate gait, posture, facial expression for such an endeavor? (Lynsey, I know you’d be able to advise). Luckily, I won’t have to perch the thing on my head, which is the preferred method of transporting nearly everything here—old, young, male or female can carry nearly anything on their heads with grace. While on the topic, let me add that my favorite “things carried on the head” list includes the following: sewing machines; large trays of—anything, tomatoes, fish, rice (with measuring cup); racks of—again, anything, sunglasses, handkerchiefs, crackers, soaps, cooking pots; then 55 gallon drums of ______??; or huge sacks of _______??; impossibly huge pots/buckets of water (of course the carrier remains dry); and, really huge, I mean HUGE piles of firewood (they aren’t on fire). But, I digress.

Today, I was told by one of the park employees that the glass louvers in the Abrafo house have been installed (picture horizontal glass slats, or a “Florida room,” at least that is what I’m imagining). I believe that only two tasks remain for the domicile to be habitable--cleaning-up the construction debris and placing the requisite furniture. Peace Corps “demands” a bed with a mattress, a desk, 3 chairs or any type, a table and some sort of shelves for clothing.

Let me note that beautiful furniture is made here in Ghana. Overstuffed sofas and chairs are handmade in little wooden huts beginning with the logs (I hate the upholstery fabrics though—think floral herculon). I’m afraid to know where the logs come from, nonetheless, sometime in my tenure here I intend to befriend one of these furniture makers just so I can spend whole days watching the process. Besides upholstered goods, rattan and bamboo furniture is also ubiquitous, including very modern and simple interpretations. Knowing all that, I’m curious about what will migrate into my house—please, please no floral herculon and please, please no used mattresses!! By the way, one of the other PCVs that I trained with has a funny story about her used mattress. She suspected something was living inside her bed and no one believed her until she took it outside for closer inspection. Then mice ran in every direction from a large hole that contained an even larger nest. That’s just the thing I want to avoid. I suppose poisonous snakes would have been worse!?

On a different note about the house, in general I believe in divine right order, so all things happen at the “right” time, in the “right” order, etc. The right time is getting closer for the Abrafo house, but is it the right thing? I left Accra with the surest knowledge that if my house wasn’t done, that I would leave Kakum and Cape Coast with PCs blessing to investigate other sites for my assignment. Kakum (cah-koom, like kaboom), or more correctly this NGO, may not be organized enough for a volunteer. Their ability to acquire the requisite house, etc. is only part of their agreement to secure a volunteer. The house should have been done back in December, when I first arrived here, since then I have heard one unfulfilled promise after another. Besides the house, there are other organizational challenges that I can’t detail here, but in-toto suggests the NGO needs more help than a PCV.

I’m not holding my breath, but I trust the universe on this one. When I decided to return to Ghana, I did so especially for the opportunity at Kakum National Park. I felt then and I still feel today that their challenges--a blend of organizational development issues, community involvement issues, park management issues, conservation issues and interpretation issues—perfectly fit my interests, skills and talents. But, now, I’m not so sure. Despite wishing to stay positive, my trust level is damaged. If the house can be done this week, then I’d like to stay. On the other hand, if the house can not be done this week, then I get to decide—wait longer or go somewhere else. It is a tough choice….

So, stay tuned. This week, in this month, in this year, my world pivots on a house.

Please know that I think of you all more often then seems healthy. Thank you to those whose words and goodies reach this distant shore—all treasured! I’m about to get caught-up on correspondence, sorry to be slow.

Healing thoughts to Jen, Carter and Carole’s Dad.

As always…xoxo…d

Ps. To Sarah Schweizer’s parents: your daughter is a lovely young woman and I’m grateful for her close proximity and company. I saw her last weekend and she was vibrant. Also, birthday wishes to Sister Lorri, Martha, Georgette and Rob Rutledge.