Submitted by Rachelle Milam
I’m not sure who said it exactly, but someone once said, “To change,
one must be sick and tired of being sick and tired”. Here in Ghana, we
can definitely understand that! As with anywhere else in the world,
people here will not change the way they treat community and family
health if they do not see a need for it. If a man has a broken leg, he
has two options - he can treat it, set it, try to help it get better,
or he can leave it broken. If he does not know how to treat it or he
does not think it serious, he may just leave it and say, “Oh well, I
have another leg. I’ll be all right.” And he may live. He may never
regain the use of that leg because it healed incorrectly, but he may
live. He may struggle every day the rest of his life to compensate for
the loss of that leg, but he may live. However, if he values his body
and he understands that he does not have to leave it broken, he may
decide to go to a doctor to get the leg treated properly, or maybe he
or someone in his village might even know how to set it and care for
it. All this to say, if people don’t understand or see a need for
change, they aren’t going to change.
When MoM did its first drops, they dropped to many communities along
the river. As of right now, we are in contact with only about 20 of
them. It is possible that some of those drops were never found, but it
is also possible that some were found, and simply disregarded. The
value wasn’t seen or understood. However, in the 20 or so communities
that called back, there was a consensus that they were sick and tired
of being sick and tired. They were also sick and tired of being
forgotten or ignored. In a still developing country, community health
is growing as an idea, but often aid is sent to only the largest and
best equipped towns and districts. Often, the rural and remote
villages we work with are not seen as worth the effort when it comes
to outside aid. In the time since our first drops, we at MoM have done
our best to make sure that these communities are receiving the correct
information to bring about the changes that are so desperately desired
and needed. The cooperation of a group of people working towards
changing their world can radically change the course of the future.
Who knows if because one person, one community saw the need to change
the way they treated public health, one life might be saved? To us,
that makes it all worth it. If just one life is changed because we
were able to give them the tools to change their world, is it not
worth it. To some, maybe not. But as we’re concerned, we too are sick
and tired of seeing people sick and tired, and we’ll do what we can to
help change it.
Showing posts with label Rachelle Milam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rachelle Milam. Show all posts
Friday, June 29, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Working WITH the community.. the only way
Submitted by Rachelle Milam
In the early 1960’s, a young man named Bruce Olson decided that he wanted to work with the people of South America, and without the support of any agency, any money, or even any solid plans, he went. Through a series of events that spanned several years, he eventually ended up with the Motilone Indians in Columbia, a tribe that was, at the time, known only for their ability to kill anyone who came near their lands. Bruce, or “Bruchko” as the Indians named him, stayed with the Indians for many many years, and in his time he saw changes in the tribe that had never before been witnessed in a people so removed from “civilization”. They established agricultural centers, public health works, schools, newspapers, and many other amazing feats during the years that Olson worked with them. To many, this would seem just another story where a white man came in and saved the savages from themselves - however, this is not the case. The most impressive part of this story is the fact that the remarkable changes the tribe made were not through Olson’s coming in and taking charge of everything - it was through the Motilone Indians seeing a need for change and changing it themselves in their own way, with their own people.
My favorite part of his story is when he talks about how he first tried to introduce the idea of modern medicine to the Motilones during an outbreak of pinkeye. At the time, the tribe relied on a traditional healer to sing songs to the spirits and give out treatments of her own. After trying and failing to get the people to try the ointments that would heal the pinkeye, Olson got himself infected, then went to the healer and asked her to sing her spirit songs while rubbing the ointment in his eye. He was healed in just a few days. When the tribe saw that they did not have to change their whole way of doing things, but just implement new ideas and treatments, they were much more open to the idea of new medicines. That healer became a great help to Olson’s work, and he found that through education and allowing the people to learn from a healer they knew and trusted, community health was greatly improved.
Here at MoM, we could take the approach of riding (or flying) to acommunity and standing on a box in front of the whole village and telling them exactly what they’re doing wrong and why they must change. If we did things that way, I don’t imagine many people would want to listen to us. We have chosen, much like Bruce Olson did, to work in a different way. When the drops were first started, each community’s health representative or Queen Mother was asked to contact us. In the communities that had no health representative, the people were asked to get together and nominate someone that they trusted to be their health representative. Most of the contact we have with the communities is through these men and women, and it is they, not us, that communicate the information we give them for the betterment of their communities. This is so important because people are much more likely to believe someone they know and see regularly in their communities. If we were to go in and do it, people might nod their heads and pretend to listen, but likely we would not see any significant change. This way, the community can learn from people they respect, act together to change their environment, they can “own” their own health and the health of their families, and they have a much better chance of seeing the changes new health practices can bring.
In the early 1960’s, a young man named Bruce Olson decided that he wanted to work with the people of South America, and without the support of any agency, any money, or even any solid plans, he went. Through a series of events that spanned several years, he eventually ended up with the Motilone Indians in Columbia, a tribe that was, at the time, known only for their ability to kill anyone who came near their lands. Bruce, or “Bruchko” as the Indians named him, stayed with the Indians for many many years, and in his time he saw changes in the tribe that had never before been witnessed in a people so removed from “civilization”. They established agricultural centers, public health works, schools, newspapers, and many other amazing feats during the years that Olson worked with them. To many, this would seem just another story where a white man came in and saved the savages from themselves - however, this is not the case. The most impressive part of this story is the fact that the remarkable changes the tribe made were not through Olson’s coming in and taking charge of everything - it was through the Motilone Indians seeing a need for change and changing it themselves in their own way, with their own people.
My favorite part of his story is when he talks about how he first tried to introduce the idea of modern medicine to the Motilones during an outbreak of pinkeye. At the time, the tribe relied on a traditional healer to sing songs to the spirits and give out treatments of her own. After trying and failing to get the people to try the ointments that would heal the pinkeye, Olson got himself infected, then went to the healer and asked her to sing her spirit songs while rubbing the ointment in his eye. He was healed in just a few days. When the tribe saw that they did not have to change their whole way of doing things, but just implement new ideas and treatments, they were much more open to the idea of new medicines. That healer became a great help to Olson’s work, and he found that through education and allowing the people to learn from a healer they knew and trusted, community health was greatly improved.
Here at MoM, we could take the approach of riding (or flying) to acommunity and standing on a box in front of the whole village and telling them exactly what they’re doing wrong and why they must change. If we did things that way, I don’t imagine many people would want to listen to us. We have chosen, much like Bruce Olson did, to work in a different way. When the drops were first started, each community’s health representative or Queen Mother was asked to contact us. In the communities that had no health representative, the people were asked to get together and nominate someone that they trusted to be their health representative. Most of the contact we have with the communities is through these men and women, and it is they, not us, that communicate the information we give them for the betterment of their communities. This is so important because people are much more likely to believe someone they know and see regularly in their communities. If we were to go in and do it, people might nod their heads and pretend to listen, but likely we would not see any significant change. This way, the community can learn from people they respect, act together to change their environment, they can “own” their own health and the health of their families, and they have a much better chance of seeing the changes new health practices can bring.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
The will to live... better
Submitted by Rachelle Milam
Abraham Maslow once said, “All the evidence that we have indicates
that is reasonable to assume in practically every human being and certainly in almost every newborn baby, that there is an active will toward health, an impulse toward growth, or towards the actualization...” Can I just say that I LOVE this quote because it is SO true, especially here! Most people are not out to make themselves sick, nobody WANTS to be ill, disabled, and most people don’t want to be the same person in fifty years that they are now. Here in Ghana, most of the time, life is about survival. Life is about bringing in your crop or making enough so that you can feed your family for another day. When things like sickness or disability comes along, people usually react in one of two ways - they ignore it and continue to try to survive, or they essentially live as invalids. There isn’t a whole lot of in between. Granted, maybe that’s just how I’ve observed it. However, it’s amazing to me to watch the way some people persevere. When they come across something they think will help their way of life and it is attainable for them, they latch onto it with and enthusiasm that is amazing to me.
I see this enthusiasm in the communities we’ve come to know - They have a very decided will towards health, a desire to grow in knowledge and to see their children grow to be adults. When I hear about a community willing to implement new practices to try to avoid things like diarrhea or malaria, I see their will to live. They move beyond simply surviving, they begin to live. When they move towards better health, there is new hope for every baby gasping in its first breath of life.
I remember once hearing a man who worked in Israel say during his presentation, “When you see these pictures, you simply see faces from a distant land. But when I look at these pictures, I see friends. I see lives changed.” I’ve never forgotten what he said and it’s become even more relevant to me now. To our readers, I hope when you look at the pictures on this blog, you don’t simply see faces from a distant land. I hope you see the lives that are changed. They are not so different from us, and they too have an active will towards health, towards life, and and a fervent impulse to grow.
Abraham Maslow once said, “All the evidence that we have indicates
that is reasonable to assume in practically every human being and certainly in almost every newborn baby, that there is an active will toward health, an impulse toward growth, or towards the actualization...” Can I just say that I LOVE this quote because it is SO true, especially here! Most people are not out to make themselves sick, nobody WANTS to be ill, disabled, and most people don’t want to be the same person in fifty years that they are now. Here in Ghana, most of the time, life is about survival. Life is about bringing in your crop or making enough so that you can feed your family for another day. When things like sickness or disability comes along, people usually react in one of two ways - they ignore it and continue to try to survive, or they essentially live as invalids. There isn’t a whole lot of in between. Granted, maybe that’s just how I’ve observed it. However, it’s amazing to me to watch the way some people persevere. When they come across something they think will help their way of life and it is attainable for them, they latch onto it with and enthusiasm that is amazing to me.
I see this enthusiasm in the communities we’ve come to know - They have a very decided will towards health, a desire to grow in knowledge and to see their children grow to be adults. When I hear about a community willing to implement new practices to try to avoid things like diarrhea or malaria, I see their will to live. They move beyond simply surviving, they begin to live. When they move towards better health, there is new hope for every baby gasping in its first breath of life.
I remember once hearing a man who worked in Israel say during his presentation, “When you see these pictures, you simply see faces from a distant land. But when I look at these pictures, I see friends. I see lives changed.” I’ve never forgotten what he said and it’s become even more relevant to me now. To our readers, I hope when you look at the pictures on this blog, you don’t simply see faces from a distant land. I hope you see the lives that are changed. They are not so different from us, and they too have an active will towards health, towards life, and and a fervent impulse to grow.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Getting the point across... not as easy as you might think.
Submitted by Rachelle Milam
Lately I've been reading a book by Barbara Kingsolver about a family working in the Congo in the 1960's, and as I've been reading it, I've been reminded of one of the challenges that we face when we try to teach people in Ghana about health care. One of the problems the man faced when originally trying to reach out to the villagers was in his use of their language - one word that he used over and over in their language meant "beloved" or "wonderful"...however, the same word in a different tone meant "poisonwood tree", a tree that would make a person sick just by touching it. So instead of convincing the people that the changes he wanted to bring about were wonderful and good for them, he was telling them that these changes were like the poisonwood tree...a terrible mix-up to make when trying to gain the trust of the people you want to work with!
When I read this, I was reminded of some of the things we here at MoM have to consider when we're reaching out to people. It's not uncommon here to find that a parent has, in all good intentions and faith, slapped cow dung onto their child's wound and thought that was sufficient in treating it. To many of them, germs are a thing unheard of, so there's not reason why cow dung shouldn't work in healing if it covers up the wound. When trying to give new information to communities about sicknesses or wound treatment, the first and last thing that is considered is communication. Is what we're telling them very different from what they already do? Do we understand why they use the practices that they do? Has our information been communicated in such a way that those who may have a limited understanding of English might be able to understand? Has it been checked for cultural consideration? Before our last drop, when talking about nausea, we had used the phrase "sick to your stomach" at first. However, after showing it to some locals on the airfield, we discovered that this is not a phrase used in Ghana and might be misunderstood. Knowing that, we were able to reword it using terms and phrases that those in the communities could understand.
This is just one of the steps in reaching communities with information, but it is vital. If people cannot understand why we're telling them to do or not do certain things, and if they don't understand how we're telling them to change their practices, they might be less inclined to believe that what we've told them will really help them and their communities. If a person in a village has no concept of germs, what reason has he to believe that cleaning a wound and bandaging it properly will produce any different results than just slapping cow dung on it? This is why what MoM does is so important - many people in these communities simply don't know there are ways that they can improve the health of their families. They don't realize that it doesn't take a doctor to practice good health. This is why we do what we do. We're trying to change their ways of thinking about public health one community, one family, one person at a time.
Lately I've been reading a book by Barbara Kingsolver about a family working in the Congo in the 1960's, and as I've been reading it, I've been reminded of one of the challenges that we face when we try to teach people in Ghana about health care. One of the problems the man faced when originally trying to reach out to the villagers was in his use of their language - one word that he used over and over in their language meant "beloved" or "wonderful"...however, the same word in a different tone meant "poisonwood tree", a tree that would make a person sick just by touching it. So instead of convincing the people that the changes he wanted to bring about were wonderful and good for them, he was telling them that these changes were like the poisonwood tree...a terrible mix-up to make when trying to gain the trust of the people you want to work with!
When I read this, I was reminded of some of the things we here at MoM have to consider when we're reaching out to people. It's not uncommon here to find that a parent has, in all good intentions and faith, slapped cow dung onto their child's wound and thought that was sufficient in treating it. To many of them, germs are a thing unheard of, so there's not reason why cow dung shouldn't work in healing if it covers up the wound. When trying to give new information to communities about sicknesses or wound treatment, the first and last thing that is considered is communication. Is what we're telling them very different from what they already do? Do we understand why they use the practices that they do? Has our information been communicated in such a way that those who may have a limited understanding of English might be able to understand? Has it been checked for cultural consideration? Before our last drop, when talking about nausea, we had used the phrase "sick to your stomach" at first. However, after showing it to some locals on the airfield, we discovered that this is not a phrase used in Ghana and might be misunderstood. Knowing that, we were able to reword it using terms and phrases that those in the communities could understand.
This is just one of the steps in reaching communities with information, but it is vital. If people cannot understand why we're telling them to do or not do certain things, and if they don't understand how we're telling them to change their practices, they might be less inclined to believe that what we've told them will really help them and their communities. If a person in a village has no concept of germs, what reason has he to believe that cleaning a wound and bandaging it properly will produce any different results than just slapping cow dung on it? This is why what MoM does is so important - many people in these communities simply don't know there are ways that they can improve the health of their families. They don't realize that it doesn't take a doctor to practice good health. This is why we do what we do. We're trying to change their ways of thinking about public health one community, one family, one person at a time.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
'A' says Ah.....
Submitted by Rochelle MilamSo today was exciting for several reasons! For one, today was Fulani camp day, which is something I look forward to doing every week that I’m here. Today Ben talked more with the men about their our hope is that with a better grasp of their spending and earning “habits”, they will be able to plan for the future and better their lives. The women’s group was a bit smaller than last week, but as we worked through writing and sounding out the first few letters of the alphabet - keep in mind that the majority have never been to school it was exciting to watch them labor over each letter. We taught them a short song to help with sounding out the letters that I hope will be very helpful in the long run. It goes to the tune of “Farmer in the Dell” and goes “The A says ‘Ah’, the A says ‘Ah’. Every letter makes a sound, and A says ‘Ah’!” They laughed at it, and stumbled over some of the words, but when we asked them later what the letter A ‘says’, and a good deal of them remembered! I’m so very excited for next week.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
My first (amazing) flight in Ghana
Submitted by Rachelle Milam
Today was my first time in one of the planes here at Kpong Airfield. I was a bit nervous, but after watching people go up and down for about two weeks, I was reasonably sure that I would survive the experience. Captain Patricia was my pilot, and as she explained the different procedures to me, I tried to focus on what she was saying and not my pounding heart. It's much different being in a big 747 where you hardly feel like you're in the air than when you're in one of these light aircraft and there's not even a door separating you from certain death
We started down the runway, and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, but to my credit, I stayed calm and watched the ground start to go by faster and faster. All of a sudden, I wasn't on the ground anymore, but rising in the air towards a bright, blue sky. It wasn't as bumpy as I'd expected it to be, and as we rose even higher, all I could focus on was the beautiful view. Everything is so small when you're so high up, but the beauty of the landscape takes your breath away. Pat told me to loosely hold onto the stick that allows her to steer the plane, and I felt all the minute adjustments she had to make second to second as we flew steadily on. We flew over the Volta Lake a bit, and I noticed two fisherman in a boat far below us. I wonder what they thought as we flew by.
On our way back down, I noticed the dropping feeling you get when you're going down that first big hill on a roller coaster - the one where it feels like your stomach is jumping up your throat. It wasn't extreme by any means, but it was enough that I could definitely tell we were going down. As we landed, I was more sad than I'd expected to be. I've decided that I like flying (or at least, letting someone else do the piloting while I sit back and enjoy). Pat says that maybe I can go for another flight later this week, and we'll go even farther. On my report afterwards, she remarked that she was a little surprised at how calm I'd been and it occurred to me that I'd been too fascinated to be afraid. I'd completely forgotten that I'd been nervous before.
After that experience, I have a new respect for the pilots, Capt's Yaw and Pat, and a new understanding of why the AvTech girls work so hard to be able to fly. I don't know that I'd want to be the one in control (I'm a tad clutzy when it comes to machines - I blew up my brother's PS2 when we were younger), but I can't wait to be up in the sky again with nothing between me and heaven but a few scattered clouds.
Today was my first time in one of the planes here at Kpong Airfield. I was a bit nervous, but after watching people go up and down for about two weeks, I was reasonably sure that I would survive the experience. Captain Patricia was my pilot, and as she explained the different procedures to me, I tried to focus on what she was saying and not my pounding heart. It's much different being in a big 747 where you hardly feel like you're in the air than when you're in one of these light aircraft and there's not even a door separating you from certain death
We started down the runway, and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, but to my credit, I stayed calm and watched the ground start to go by faster and faster. All of a sudden, I wasn't on the ground anymore, but rising in the air towards a bright, blue sky. It wasn't as bumpy as I'd expected it to be, and as we rose even higher, all I could focus on was the beautiful view. Everything is so small when you're so high up, but the beauty of the landscape takes your breath away. Pat told me to loosely hold onto the stick that allows her to steer the plane, and I felt all the minute adjustments she had to make second to second as we flew steadily on. We flew over the Volta Lake a bit, and I noticed two fisherman in a boat far below us. I wonder what they thought as we flew by.
On our way back down, I noticed the dropping feeling you get when you're going down that first big hill on a roller coaster - the one where it feels like your stomach is jumping up your throat. It wasn't extreme by any means, but it was enough that I could definitely tell we were going down. As we landed, I was more sad than I'd expected to be. I've decided that I like flying (or at least, letting someone else do the piloting while I sit back and enjoy). Pat says that maybe I can go for another flight later this week, and we'll go even farther. On my report afterwards, she remarked that she was a little surprised at how calm I'd been and it occurred to me that I'd been too fascinated to be afraid. I'd completely forgotten that I'd been nervous before.After that experience, I have a new respect for the pilots, Capt's Yaw and Pat, and a new understanding of why the AvTech girls work so hard to be able to fly. I don't know that I'd want to be the one in control (I'm a tad clutzy when it comes to machines - I blew up my brother's PS2 when we were younger), but I can't wait to be up in the sky again with nothing between me and heaven but a few scattered clouds.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Feeding the hunger for education
Submitted by Rachelle Milam
From 5-1-12
The children - well, first let me say that there is a reason I chose to be an elementary education major, and these children were such an encouragement to me. I wasn't sure what to expect because many of them are young and haven't had much, if any, formal schooling. However, when asked, they stood there and sang every song and recited every rhyme that they knew. There was much more than I expected. It made me grin to watch a little boy fold his hands behind his back as he sang "Row, Row, Row Your Boat", clearly proud of himself for remembering each word. The kids are all so smart, and I'm so excited about what other songs I can teach them to help them learn. We tried a song about the days of the week using "The Addams Family" tune, and they loved the snapping fingers part, but couldn't quite get the rhythm down. No worries, though! There's always next week!
Today's experience really opened my eyes in a few ways. I think we in the Western world often make unconscious assumptions about people in countries like Ghana without even really realizing that we do. I'm guilty of it as well, even after living here for part of my life. I was genuinely surprised when I saw all that the women and children had picked up in a short time, and I think it's because often times we assume that if you don't have a formal education, you must not know much of anything. It's a horrible thing to think, but in a culture that says you don't have much of a chance of doing anything important in life without a degree or two, education ends up being very important to our views on what we know. To be confronted with the fact that these people who've lived in the bush their entire lives could be so incredibly smart...well, it humbled me. I had to very quickly adapt my way of thinking. I hope I have more moments like this. It's always amazing to me what you can learn if you're just willing to open your eyes and see people for all they are, instead of simply what you perceive them to be.
From 5-1-12
Today was my first day working at the Fulani camp, and as I looked out at the faces of those gathered to learn, I was reminded why I'm studying to be a teacher. These people took time out of their day to sit on a bench under a little (for lack of better word) shack because they want to learn and they think it's important. What more encouragement does a teacher need? When I went in today, I only really planned to do a kind of assessment, to see what they remembered and where would be a good place to start. I learned that most of the women, many of whom have spent little to no time in school, could write or at least recite the alphabet and some numbers. It reminded me that there is a stark difference between ignorance and simply being uneducated. These women are so bright - when we did our short health education bit, they were quick and thoughtful with their suggestions on how often and in what situations one should wash their hands so as to avoid the germs that bring so much illness into this region. I look forward to working with these amazing women more.
The children - well, first let me say that there is a reason I chose to be an elementary education major, and these children were such an encouragement to me. I wasn't sure what to expect because many of them are young and haven't had much, if any, formal schooling. However, when asked, they stood there and sang every song and recited every rhyme that they knew. There was much more than I expected. It made me grin to watch a little boy fold his hands behind his back as he sang "Row, Row, Row Your Boat", clearly proud of himself for remembering each word. The kids are all so smart, and I'm so excited about what other songs I can teach them to help them learn. We tried a song about the days of the week using "The Addams Family" tune, and they loved the snapping fingers part, but couldn't quite get the rhythm down. No worries, though! There's always next week! 
Today's experience really opened my eyes in a few ways. I think we in the Western world often make unconscious assumptions about people in countries like Ghana without even really realizing that we do. I'm guilty of it as well, even after living here for part of my life. I was genuinely surprised when I saw all that the women and children had picked up in a short time, and I think it's because often times we assume that if you don't have a formal education, you must not know much of anything. It's a horrible thing to think, but in a culture that says you don't have much of a chance of doing anything important in life without a degree or two, education ends up being very important to our views on what we know. To be confronted with the fact that these people who've lived in the bush their entire lives could be so incredibly smart...well, it humbled me. I had to very quickly adapt my way of thinking. I hope I have more moments like this. It's always amazing to me what you can learn if you're just willing to open your eyes and see people for all they are, instead of simply what you perceive them to be. Thursday, May 3, 2012
Education is a prized gift
Submitted by Rachelle Milam
Tuesday was technically the start of the new school term here in Ghana, and though some children may not have looked forward to it, there were 5 new children from the Fulani camp registering for this term. Added to the ones who were registered last term, there are now 11 kids from the camp attending school - a huge testament to how views in the camp have changed. It was not so very long ago when there were no Fulani kids in school because of lack of money, lack of transportation (The school is quite a ways from the camp and way too far for kids to walk), and lack of support. Because many of the adults in the camp (especially the women) are uneducated, the people did not see the need to send their children to school. Then, for a long time, only one boy from the camp was attending and that was because he was able to get a bike that he could ride to and from school every day. On Tuesday we were happy to watch his brother enroll into school.
It may seem like a small thing, these 11 kids finally being in school, but not when you look at the long term effects. Because this generation has the chance at a formal education, it is very possible that they will be able to change their communities for the better as they grow. I watched one little girl sit very carefully in her brand new uniform, and I wondered when the last time I'd really been thankful for my schooling was. It's hard to be thankful for something you take for granted.
I want to congratulate those who have worked so hard to see this become a reality. Who knows how many lives have been changed because someone decided to care enough to visit the Fulani community and encourage them to send their kids to school? I can't wait to see the effects in the community, and I can't wait to continue working with a group so eager to better themselves.
Tuesday was technically the start of the new school term here in Ghana, and though some children may not have looked forward to it, there were 5 new children from the Fulani camp registering for this term. Added to the ones who were registered last term, there are now 11 kids from the camp attending school - a huge testament to how views in the camp have changed. It was not so very long ago when there were no Fulani kids in school because of lack of money, lack of transportation (The school is quite a ways from the camp and way too far for kids to walk), and lack of support. Because many of the adults in the camp (especially the women) are uneducated, the people did not see the need to send their children to school. Then, for a long time, only one boy from the camp was attending and that was because he was able to get a bike that he could ride to and from school every day. On Tuesday we were happy to watch his brother enroll into school. 
It may seem like a small thing, these 11 kids finally being in school, but not when you look at the long term effects. Because this generation has the chance at a formal education, it is very possible that they will be able to change their communities for the better as they grow. I watched one little girl sit very carefully in her brand new uniform, and I wondered when the last time I'd really been thankful for my schooling was. It's hard to be thankful for something you take for granted. I want to congratulate those who have worked so hard to see this become a reality. Who knows how many lives have been changed because someone decided to care enough to visit the Fulani community and encourage them to send their kids to school? I can't wait to see the effects in the community, and I can't wait to continue working with a group so eager to better themselves.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Back home again
Submitted by Rachelle Milam
Besides my work with the AvTech girls and the people in the Fulani camp, I'm going to be wearing a lot of different hats (everybody at this field is)! I look forward to more African food, my first time in a small plane, and all the things I'm sure I'm going to learn in the next four months!
Until next time!
When I stepped off of the plane in Accra, several things hit me at once. First, it was hot! Second, the smells of the city of the city were so familiar that for a brief moment, I couldn't take a breath. Third, and possibly the most surreal thought, I was finally in Ghana again! I grew up here in the Brong Ahafo region, about 10 hours by car (or 2 hours by plane) north of Kpong, and though I have 13 years of experience in this country, there's something very unreal about being back again. This time I'm not here because my mother and father have work to do...this time I'm here to work.
Today was my first full day on the field, and it certainly wasn't boring! The day started earlier than my jet-lagged body would have liked, but once I was out of bed, it didn't feel like the day really ended until after dark. I sat in on my first "team meeting", and Ben gave me a tour of the workings of the field. I got to see the planes and where I'll be working with the AvTech girls (who, for the moment, remain somewhat cautious of me). Then, I got a real welcome to the field by helping to push a truck out of the mud. I've never been so pleased to have dirty shoes! The rest of the day was spent helping Ben and Michaela prepare for tomorrow's drop by typing up lists, editing, and printing other materials. I had never really grasped how much work goes into preparing for one of the ETCHE drops, but I'm so glad I got to be a part of it!
Next week is when the real fun begins. On Tuesday, I go to my first meeting with the Fulani, and I have to admit a certain amount of nervousness. As any person, I'm apprehensive of what I do not know, and right now, I simply do not know what will happen. I'm excited, I'm thrilled for this opportunity, and I cannot wait to see how this experience helps me grow, but I really can't wait for that initial meeting to already be over and done with!
Besides my work with the AvTech girls and the people in the Fulani camp, I'm going to be wearing a lot of different hats (everybody at this field is)! I look forward to more African food, my first time in a small plane, and all the things I'm sure I'm going to learn in the next four months!
Until next time!
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