Adjusting

This weekend I went to Kokrobite with 6 other volunteers. It was about a 3 1/2 hour tro-tro ride, which probably sounds awful but it goes pretty quickly when you're on the tro-tro. Plus we had to get off and on different tro-tros a few times, which made it go faster. We stayed at Big Milly's, which is apparently the best place to stay in Kokrobite because it's right on the beach, and on Saturday nights they have reggae night so we didn't even have to go anywhere for entertainment.

We got lunch at Kokrobite Gardens, an Italian restaurant/hotel, and I got pizza! It was so good that I ate the whole thing in one sitting. I'm not used to having anything but rice or noodles for a meal. It's still a little strange that you don't always get ice water with your meal like at home. It's only safe to drink filtered water, at least for a foreigner who isn't used to (read: immune to the diseases in) the ground water, so you had to pay around 2 cedis for a bottle at lunch.

It's also hard to adjust to how friendly everyone is here. At home, we are taught to not talk to strangers and to always think about your own protection and self-defense, but here everyone is so friendly and they will take offense if you aren't. You greet everyone you see, even strangers you pass on the street. (People here say "ete sen," which means "how are you," to which you reply "eh ye," which means "I'm fine." You are supposed to say eh ye even if you aren't fine, because they believe that if you say it, it will eventually be true.) When we were in Kokrobite, the locals at the table next to us at dinner struck up a conversation with us. They see that kind of thing as common, while normally I would be wary about their intentions. Of course I'm still being safe and careful, but I also don't want to be offensive or taken advantage of as a foreigner. It's difficult to see the line between friendly and disrespectful in a country with such a friendly and open culture.

Going to the orphanage every day fills me with incredible joy, to see kids who have come from such different backgrounds and hard lives, yet they still play together and smile every day. Some of them never had a family and grew up on the streets, and some of them do have a family that chose to give them up, either because they couldn't afford to take care of their children anymore or because they just didn't want them. Parents will even send their kids to the orphanage because they know they will have a better life there. At least they are guaranteed enough to survive.

Even so, life at Worcsa is far from perfect. Yes, the kids eat three meals a day, have rooms to sleep in and clothes to wear, and go to school, but that is nowhere near enough. They get no variety of nutrients from their food - their diet consists mostly of bland grains and a few types of pourridge. They eat very few fruits or vegetables, and almost no meat. They all either share straw mats on a concrete floor (with no blankets) or squish in three to a bed. I often see some of them wearing the same clothes two or three days in a row, and if they can't find their shoes they can't go to school because they don't have an extra pair. The public school system here is very inefficient, the kids learn almost nothing. The lucky ones get sponsored to go to Word of Faith, a westernized private Christian school, but by the time they start they're already so behind in their studies and need extra lessons to catch up, plus it costs about $1000 per year to sponsor a student.

It's hard being here and not being able to find a solution for every problem I see, because I lack both time and money. I'm definitely planning on keeping in touch with Worcsa when I go home so I can continue to help them out in any way I can. The kids here are great, they're very strong but they all have such good hearts. Despite any issue they might have, a tickle or a hand-game will never fail to put a smile on any of their faces.