Cis-Privilege in Safe Space Go-Arounds

Whenever attending community workshops, discussions and at times even small classes I experience an exercise that I always associated with creating a safe space. While introducing ourselves we would each express our desired pronouns thus creating a space in which uncomfortable and unsafe moments of incorrect pronouns would be avoided and accountability would be understood. By this I mean, we would each know right off the bat how every person there desired and expected to be addressed, in particular trans identities would be respected and defended. Until recently, I thought this introduction was key to building a safe space but I’ve begun to become more aware of cis-gender privilege seeping into these seemingly safe spaces. Cis-privilege is the privileging of those whose identify with the gender identity they were assigned at birth.

The situation often goes like this; introduction circle reaches a cis-gendered woman, “Hi. I’m Caitlin, you can use the pronoun ‘she’, or ‘he’, ‘they’... haha, I really don’t care.” While this may appear to be seemingly expressing comfort in fluidity of gender, in reality I think this de-values the gender identities of those who use this introduction activity as a time to confidently express a gender identity that is often denied. To me, this response indicates a misunderstanding in why safe space should include this introduction. This simple activity is not used for cis-individuals to acknowledge their understanding of gender fluidity and a cis person saying they don’t care what pro-noun is used for them is not supporting trans folks who do care. While I don’t deny the fluidity of gender, many trans individuals constantly struggle to find respect and acknowledgment for their gender identity. It is a privilege to suggest comfort in all pronouns, cis-gendered individuals are most often granted with this privilege because their gender identity will rarely be called into question.

While many cis folks participate in this introduction without realizing the implication and privilege associated with their words, I suggest to cis individuals who find themselves in this position, quietly and honestly express their desired pronoun and use the comfort they experience with their privilege for better use. For explain, Cis-folks can be allies by using gender neutral washrooms whenever available to encourage the need for these neutral washrooms in accessible spaces. All folks, cis and trans can use the pronoun ‘they’ until one indicates which pronoun they wish to be referred to with instead making an assumption based on ascetics. Finally, cis-individuals can take advantage of their privileges by defending trans rights and supporting all marginalized gender identities in our communities by educating ourselves and others.

An Ode to My Armpit Hair

We’ve been together for a couple of years now and so often I find myself hiding you in shame. I haven’t been fair to you, you deserve much more than dark moist corner I’ve left you in. This is a celebration of your existence.

10 reason why I won’t shave the hair under my arms

1) You’re environmentally friendly

2) According to my deodorant, you smell cool & fresh

3) You challenge traditional concepts of femininity

4) You make my folks cringe

5) You encourage competition between my friends

6) You give me a head start for Movember

7) You’re sexy

8) You keep me warm during the cold winter nights

9) You scare away undesirable suitors

10) You make me feel good

Despite the fact that you result in stares from both strangers and friends, you will happily stay under my arms.

Photo Cred: Jonathon Robinson

First times

I mowed the lawn for the first time this evening. After living on this earth for almost twenty one years its quite wild and unheard of that I have yet to put mower to grass. The front and backyard of my folks house are not that large so the task was only mildly challenging. It took a few minutes to figure out the inner workings of the lawn mower and properly turn it on. After following my dad's directions and multiple tries i finally heard the rev of the motor and the snap back of the rope, success. I carefully strided across the lawn trying to create a pattern that would impress every on looker while including my elderly neighbours lawn.

The tree in the middle of the lawn and the hills bending each and every way inhibited my smooth straight lines. But I pushed through and towed the mower to the backyard. There I won the war and went up the lawn, down the lawn, up and down and created a grid of freshly mowed grass.

I took a deep breath and took in that smell of new grass everyone craves, it was sweeter then normal, it was my mowed lawn.

2010 goals continued

Make sushi

Let go of things in the past (forgive AND FORGET)

Better lat(er) then never!

It's been over a year and a half since I posted on this blog, but I remember writing my thoughts, my feelings, my experiences down on here while in Ghana was a rejuvenating experience. So I'm going to do just that. This space is for me, I don't expect anyone else to relate to it, let alone read it, but feel free to partake in either if you wish.

I don't normally make goals for the new year, but this year I've decided to do things a little differently. 2010 will be here in 28 days so I better get a list started.

2010 will be the year to:

blog often
plant atleast one tree
volunteer with a charitable group outside of my school community
put a razor to my hair
go on an overnight hiking trip
fall for someone
mow a lawn
cross country ski
make something new out of something old
get over 90% on a paper

There is so many more possible goals, I will have to contemplate and add more within the next 28 days.

Goodnight

So far away you are in my memory
I wish it wasn't true
I wish I could remember every sight, smell and sound
Your a dream
I know its true
I never met you
Ghana, I never knew you
Please remind me
Pass by me in the cold wind of Canada
Whisper to me all your secrets that I once knew
I'm begging to feel your hand clutched in my own
I promise if you show yourself to me again I will never forget
Until then, I'll read the pages of my journal, I'll feel the softness of the cloth I bought
I'll cherish the photos I've taken
Until then I'll cling to every memory of you

My last weekend at Matthew 25

This weekend I met some extremely inspirational people. People who made me excited about the world, excited about living. They gave me faith in humanity. They gave me strength. No they were not Ghanaian politicians, no they weren't doctors or lawyers. They were children. The official title to these kids are Orphans and Vulnerable Children (OVC's) They are either orphaned by HIV/AIDS or vulnerable to it.

We held a four day 'camp' for them. We played games, had talks did art work and danced, we danced a lot. We also went on an excursion to Akaa falls, which are beautiful waterfalls near Koforidua. I played football with some of the young boys and skipped with some of the girls. I was taught new games and had to much fun playing them. We coloured mandalas and made cards to remind us to love ourselves. It was a weekend to be kids, to come together and just have fun. It was also a time that Matthew 25 handed out school items that some of the kids need but can't afford, such as uniform, books, shoes pens etc.

Every night as I would journal about my day I would have a huge smile on my face and fill at least 3 pages. Despite the constant poking and exhaustion I was always happy and thankful for the day.

I hope that each of these children have all their dreams come true because they all deserve so much.

The days are numbered.

31 days until I leave Ghana. I'm excited and sad at the same time. I'm really excited to go home and see my friends and family, I miss them all so much. I'm excited to go home and show my photos and tell my stories to everyone. I'm excited to eat different food even though the Ghanaian food will be something I will miss so much. I'm excited to wear new clothes as the ones I have are mostly stained and/or ripped. I'm also KINDA excited to start school. To add book knowledge to the experiential knowledge I have gained. But I know once I leave I'll miss Ghana, my second home now. The minute I'll step on the plane, leave the Ghanaian soil, I'll want to go back. I'll cry when I have to leave my friends, all of the beautiful people I have met during my time in Ghana.

BUT, I know I will be back. recently while falling asleep in my mosquito infested room I have been thinking about when I come back to Ghana. Seems strange to be planning to come back here when I haven't left. But Ghana does that to a person, makes you fall in love with it. It gets in your soul and never escapes. So, I'll be back, I know.

"Ice Pure Water"

It's getting near the end of my time here. Some days I find myself doing nothing. I could really see how someone could give up and hide in their room. But I refuse to stop learning.

For those of us who have had the pleasure of traveling to Ghana already, we know the term 'pure water'. For those who don't, basically Pure water is treated water that is sold in 500ml sachets. A bag of 30 cost 80 Gp. (about 80 cents). To earn money many people sell individual sachets of pure water that have been put in the fridge to become cold, some sell out of stationary coolers while others sell on their heads. These cost 5 Gp each.

I decided that I wanted to learn more. I wanted to learn what it would be like to sell pure water on my head for a day. So I loaded up a plastic container of cold sachets and ice put it on my head and went out to sell. the first sachet I sold was to a carpenter. I continued down the street, people staring more then they already do, most also laughing. I made it to a secondary school where students called me into classes bursting at the seams from laughing, I didn't mind, they bought water.

I finished what I had just past the school and went back to Matthew House to load up more. This time when I went back to Matthew House Fr. was there, he was so shocked that I was doing this but very supportive, I think he laughed more then the people on the street. I made another trip with even more water. I didn't make it very far before I ran out of water and quickly went back and made another trip towards town. My destination had been the market but a white girl selling water was too exciting to not buy from.

By the end of the day I had met so many people. Many asked why I was doing this, I just would reply, why not.

This morning I found out that the news was all over K'dua, a white girl sold pure water on her head. I walked to the market with Akosua (a friend of mine) and people were yelling CAIT CAIT and asking why I wasn't selling in Twi. It was a really great experience to physical feel what it is like to do a simple and popular job.

I've been told tomorrow I will be out to the streets again. I hope my back can handle it.

New World

I once lived in a world where I heard about people who starved
where i heard about people who never went to school
where I heard about people who know they will die soon
where i heard about children with purged bellies
Where i heard about overcrowded hospitals, overcrowded schools, overcrowded villages, overcrowded homes
I now live in a world where i eat with the children with purged belleis
Where I am taught by the people who never went to school
Where I sleep and work beside the people who know they will die soon
Where I wait in the overcrowded hospitals and love everyone in the overcrowd home
I now live in the real world

Untitled.

Aids is real
If you don't believe me
The come and see
Get up from your comfy sofa
Move away from all your luxuries
Unplug your refridgerator, your washing machine
Step outside of your masked world
Step into reality
Move towards those who suffer
Those with empty pockets and empty stomachs
Talk to them
Eat with them
Celebrate with them
Walk with them
Then you will know that Aids is real
It effects real people in real places
The aids will be your battle
You will suffer from it too, because your friends do.

October 4th 2007

Four months ago today I arrived in Ghana. It's hard to believe that four months ago plus one day I was in Canada. I remember arriving at the airport to see my three group mates, Amanda, Aryn, Mark minus beard. I remember the teary eyed goodbye with my mom, we held it together well. I remember the excited looks on Pamela and Colleans' faces because they knew where we were going. I remember going through my pictures on the floor in T.O. airport, forcing the others to see pictures of my friends and family. I remeber the lay over in Amsterdamn airport, eating our take away breakfasts' the KLM gave us and looking at our reflections on the electrical ramp thing. After a long time in the air, feeling restless, we arrived in Ghana. I remember waiting for our luggage seeing vicious dougs in cages that someone had brought overseas to Ghana. I also remember staying extra long in the airport with Mark because they lost one of our bags. I remember my first images of Ghana, it was dark outside and we walked out into a large crowd of people who were waiting for others to arrive. In this crowd was Sister B, Jackson and Eric.

Wow, four months ago and I still remember so much. As I sit here at a very slow computer at an internet cafe in K'dua drinking fermented corn, I hope that I can remember that much in four months from now.

Market Day

Imagine you are a seller in a market. You have a stall in the back corner. You sell shoes, all kinds, heals, sneakers, flip flops, slitters. You make a small profit, enough to support you five children. Your friend sells beside you, a young women who sells cloth, traditional and untraditional. To your other side is an old woman who sells tomatores, onions and pepe. In front of you is a hairdresser, she earns most of her income by selling weaves. Its a sunday, mid-afternoon. You arrived only hours ago, right after church. Today is busy as ever, you've made enough money to bring home cassave and plaintan for fufu tonight, the children will be thrilled. When things are quiet at you stall you look up, you see a young man whom you see everyday. He sells friend egg sandwiches. You've had one before, only once, you thought he was a little over sealous with the salt. But you see someone is purchasing from him. They are fairly far, at the end of the row about 50 metres away. but you can see him as he turns on the gas, to start cooking. He uses a gas stove with one burner. He picks up his match and lights the element. He then throws the used match on the ground, it wasn't fully estinguished when it hit the ground, you watch it fall to what looks like a small puddle of water. You were wrong, the tank had leaked, the lit match fell into a small puddle of gasoline. It lit up like a full moon in the pitch black sky. As people around realized what was happening the crowded market became chaotic. There are eight small enterances to the market and buyers and sellers rushed them with their arms full. You had a choice, you could quickly go or collect what you could of you shoes and avoid losing hundreds of cedis (dollars). Without your shoes you wouldnt be able to support your children. You made the choice you had to make, you started to fill your bag. You looked to your friend with the cloth, she had made the same choice. You yell to her to collect what she can and you\d come back to the rest. You follow her out, both carrying your valuable on your heards. She stops at a spot that is a decent distance from the market. She will gaurd the items while you go back in. You know the fire will spread fast so you have to hurry. You race through the crowds like a fish swimming up stream. You arrive at the stall and start to grab what you can, shoes on your head and cloth in each of your arms, a small bag of onions you manage to save for the old lady beside you. You can smell the weaves burning. You remember back to a month ago when the hairdresser commented to a potential buyer that they were made from real hair, you were certain of that now. You can also smell the burning leather of your own merchandise you couldn't save. You look to your left to see some young mean looting, stealing what they can of sellers precious livelihood, you know those sellers hadn't abandoned their things yet, but they would come back to see it almost all gone. You hear sirens in the distance, thank God, you know you have to go. You've saved what you can. You run as fast as you can wit h the things you carry and smoke in your eyes. As you pass the old woman you give her her onions, she is greatful. You made it to you friend who is in tears because of the thousands of cedis she has lost in expensive cloth. You both lean against a railing and watch the market go up in smoke. You hear someone say that the fire department can't do anything because it's a gas fire. We have to wait it out. You watch the police and ambulance struggle to make it through the narrow roads, overflowing with people and cars. You watch as people continue to run out of the market with as much as they can carry. Peopl risking their lives in order to avoid losing their money. The fire dies out about three hours later.


A similar situation happened in Koforidua market on January 27th. I watch smoke fill the sky, people screaming, crying and scurrying with piles upon piles on their heads and the police about 75 metres away because they couldn't make it though the traffic

The Days Continue On

So many times I think foreigners came into places like Ghana expecting to teach the people. I walked into Matthew 25 to discover everyone there has a higher education then me. It is them who will teach me.

I have learned more in two weeks then I have in my entire 12 years of schooling. Its really beautiful about how much you actually learn when you stop talking and listen.

To days I met with Amanda, Aryn and Mark and went to a funeral. We lost our dear dear friend, teacher and sister Bernadette. She was a nun who has been the Ghanaian coordinate for One World for years and she will be dearly missed. The funeral was huge, it included ex-president Rowling's who sister knew well.

I think the hardest part of the funeral was the wailing of all those who mourn her lost including many nuns. It scared me to think that those who put so much faith in the existence of God and Heaven are this sad when someone goes there.

Sister B had taken in Orphans over the years, she paid for them to go to school and live a normal life in Ghana, they called her their mother. My heart broke as I saw them all, the youngest being close to six. It scares me what could happen to them but I know they have a strong support system that extends to Canada. I wish I had had the opportunity to thank Sister for everything she has done for not only me but so many people world-wide. Its truly a shame God felt that he needed her.

RIP Sister B
January 10th 2008
Age 49

"What you have done to the least of my brothers and sisters you have done onto me" (Matthew 25-40)

I have found the most beautiful place on earth. Don't be fooled by the lush green mountains that surround it, for inside its as busy as any city. The air is full of exhaust fuel from the many car and the market is over populated with people. The corners are scattered with 'spots' that serve alcohol and coca cola products and women who make a small living selling food they have slaved to live. But, it's not the things that make it beautiful, it's the people.

Quick, hide the screen of the computer and I'll tell you of this secret, magical place not known to the western world. It's called Koforidua.

I'm introduced here as a volunteer, but I really don't think I'm doing much productive work. I'm staying at a place called "Matthew 25 House". It's a Ghanaian NGO that works with people living with HIV/AIDS as well as orphans and vulnerable children. Basically they provide care for HIV positive people by assisting them with medical bills, giving them a place to stay when they need it, counseling them and teaching them income generating skills. They also provide general education and knowledge for the public to reduce the stigmatization for HIV/AIDS.

I have been here only three full days and have already learned so much. In a basic wording, HIV is a virus that weakens down the immune system, AIDS is the final stage of the disease. Because a person who is positive has a weak immune system it makes every other possible disease or sickness they make get, even a cold or pimples a thousand times worse. For example a pimple could cause severe disfigurement. It is another disease that the positive person dies from because their body was not able to fight it off.

Tomorrow I will go with some of the people living with HIV/AIDS to grind palm nuts.

I will write more as I learn more.

Happy New Year

2007 has come and gone. As a group we had planned to spend our last hours of 2007 together but fate did not see it that way. Aryn and I rung in the new year, and Aryns' birthday, in the teaching hospital in Kumasi (about 2 1/2 hrs from Amanda and Mark).

No, no no, don't worry, Aryn and I are okay. We were travelling by tro tro from Ada after picking up our packages from the respective post offices. We planned this trip spontanously and planned to leave Ada on the 31st and be in Nkoranza that evening. Amanada and Mark were waiting 'anxiously' for our return. We entered our a packed tro tro in Accra that would take us straight to Kumasi about 5 hours away. After about 2 hours and man sitting two people to the left of me and behind and to the left of Aryn had a seizure. It lasted between a minute or two, he foamed at the mouth, threw up and passed out for a short time. He was in between consiouness and unconsiouness for some time afterwards. The man beside him jumped into the lap of the man on the other side. Everyone on the tro tro was scarred. I quickly thought back to what I knew about siezures. I realized that knowledge was very limited. I tried to calm the people around us down and convince that man beside me that we had to bring Paul (the man having the siezure to the hospital). The man beside me disagreed, he told me it was just the spirits. I argued with him telling him it was a medical condition that happens all around the world and in Canada we bring them to the hospital after. I looked over and Paul and to me it seemed that he was not breathing, I asked Aryn to ask the woman directly infront of Paul to check. I explained to the people around us that I knew CPR, although I am sure I am a little rusty, I explained that if he wasn't breathing I could help him to breath again. Thankfully Paul was still breathing. Aryn and I continued to argue with the passenger beside me but Paul everntually regained consciousness. Aryn asked if he was okay and not knowing what had happened he said his head hurt. He seemed okay other then that and Aryn and I decided we would wait till Kumasi and then tell Paul what happened and suggest he go to the hospital. We stopped in Nkawkaw and a few passengers got out including the man that had disagreed about bringing Paul to the hospital. We re-prganized ourself and I was now sitting beside Paul.

We kept an eye on him and he seemed to be okay, but as we entered Kumasi Paul had another siezure. Similar to the previous one but this time his head hit the back of the car multiple times. I quickly re-acted to put my hand behind his head so it would lessen the force. He basically had a seizure on me and fell unconsious on me. I tried to move him so he was sitting in a more safe position as we went over the speed bumps. I asked a man close by to help me lift him, he was very reluntant and offered little help so Aryn and I had to manage. We also decided that we would bring him to the hospital. We he regained consciousness we tried to talk to him but it seemed he spoke no English. I asked the women beside me to tell him what had happened in Twi, she said she was to scarred to talk to him. I then asked if she would just ask him if we could bring him to the hospital, thankfully she agreed, and so did Paul.

We got out of the tro tro and Paul had difficulty walking, Aryn and I carried his bags and a nice tro tro mate found us a taxi nad barginned the price for us. We got to the hospital and paied Paul admission fee and waited for 4 hours before he saw a doctor. As we waited Paul had me call his employer who turned out to be a British man to tell him what had happened. Paul is a teacher who turned out to speak perfect English. The employer seemed concerned that Paul would not be able to afford the bill but I assured him that Aryn and I would cover it. We were supported by very nice people at the hospital including a nurse and two security men who assured us that we would find a place for Paul to sleep, and later walked Aryn and I to a close by hotel, it was New Years Eve and they were worried for mine and Aryns safety. I celebrated 2008 in a consulting explain to a doctor what had happened to Paul. At 2 minutes after 12:00 the nurse told us all it was 2008.


Aryn and mys main concern was that Paul was given a place to stay. He was travelling a few hours north for his mothers funeral and hadn't planned on stopping in Kumasi. I asked the Doctor if he could stay in the hospital and Aryn and I would pay the bill. He also gave us a list of medicine to by and told me that this could be the beginning of Epilepsy. I felt so much pity for Paul because by many in Ghana Epilepsy is not a medical condition but something the spirits of witches cast on people, that is why the people in the tro tro reacted the way they did. Aryn and I went to pay for his medicine and left Paul with some money to pay for the place to stay. at 1:30 am we parted our ways.

We left Kumasi the next morning and arrived in Nkoranza at about 12:00 pm that afternoon.

They say how you spend your New Years Eve is how you spend the rest of your year, I am not really sure what that means for Aryn and I.

Happy 2008!

Happy Holidays, it's Christmas Eve and I am sitting in an internet cafe in Northern Ghana. Who would of thought.

Yesterday the group and I spent our time volunteering for a doctor who runs a free medical clinic called Shekhinah. Every Christmas they provide a free meal for the poor, mostly disabled. We sorted out used clothing and handed it out to about 3000 Ghanaians. We were told the clothing mostly came from The Netherlands. It was disturbing to see some clothes that were in horrific condition even stained, I was embarrassed to give it, even to those who really needed it.

We began by sorting through a mound of clothes, trying to pair things and make outfits and classify pieces by gender and sizes. The gates were opened sporadically and only a specific number of people were let in at a time. They began by only letting the disabled in. Some had leprosy, some without a limb or some blind or deaf. we handed out two pieces of clothing to each, we tried to give them a bottom and a top but we quickly ran out of pants and skirts.A crowd began to form at the gate, some just spectators from the neighbor others were also poor but consider healthy by the standards of the running the event. There were men watching the crowd and were to keep them under control but I believe that they helped contribute to this small almost riot. They used sticks and rope to hit people if they got to close or what they considered rowdy. Trucks would arrive and bring more people from the inner city to eat and the men would yell at the crowd and hit them. All I could do was stand and watch as I handed out clothing to the "more needy?". A few times they handed out small amounts of pure water or candy to the crowd. Picture ten pieces of small candy being given to 250 hungry people. A tease is what I would call it.

At the end of the event, after all the disabled and their families had eaten they let those who spent the entire day hovering the gate in. They received all the left over food and the scraps of clothing. Hours earlier all those who entered were each given a bottle of pop, now these people were passing one bottle down the line taking quick swigs of it. I was handing out the left over socks to this line of leftover people trying to pair them with at least a similar size when a Ghanaian volunteered came to me and said just give them anything it doesn't matter, I quickly yelled back to him, I'm not just going to give them one sock. This exchange happened multiply times in the last minutes of the events. But soon we ran out of clothing, even the scraps of material were gone, and the line of people continued. We were given shirts from the phone company that had sponsored the event. I quickly took mine off and gave it to a girl aged about 12 at the end of the line, then I was quickly swarmed by men who wanted one. Finally, the dinner ended, I know that some still went home hungry.

I think that this Christmas dinner does good. It DOES feed the poor. But I continue to ask myself 'why can't we help them all'. Why do those who arn't hungry get to pick and chose who is needy enough to get feed. These are questions that I have no answers to.


I really did feel good about myself when I gave a blanket to an old woman, or a baby shirt to a woman with a young child on her back. But every time I turned to the gate and saw a bigger and bigger crowd forming I felt sick to my stomach. There were instances when I really felt tears coming to my eyes, it just wasn't fair.

Tomorrow is Christmas. Today we are at the market buying a "feast" that we will make tomorrow, fried rice for lunch and pasta for dinner. Tonight we will also share a Christmas meal with some other foreigners we have met, A Canadian girl about my age, a Swiss woman and an American Family. I will also buy small gifts for Aryn, Marc and Amanda as they will for me that we will put in the stockings we made under our paper Christmas tree. We will do this as people around Ghana wake up to no new gifts. We will do this as people around Ghana eat Banku for the 15th consecutive day. We will have a special day, as people around Ghana live like it's any other day. One Worlds goals include to live in solidarity. We've lived with Ghanaians, traveled beside Ghanaians and bought food from the same places as Ghanaians, but are we really living in solidarity? This is a struggle I will continue to examine, hopefully I will find an answer that I can be proud of.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays
Peace and Love from Tamale Ghana

Travel time has begun, we left Ada on Monday and arrived in Cape Coast late that night. We just stayed there for two nights. We went to the Cape Coast castle where they held, catagorized and sold slaves before they were shipped to Europe and the Americas. We looked through the musuem where they gave a basic history of the forced African migration to the Americans and Black history to current times. We also recieved a tour of the castle where they showed us the holding block, the cell where the people who fought with the guards were left to die as well as the door of no return that led to the ships and the horrific future for the African Slaves. We accidently left the Coast early and arrived in Tamale yesterday after a horrific day of travel. We are in Tamale for Christmas and we will be spending our time volunteering at a free medical clinic that serves a meal on Christmas to those who cannot afford it. We couldn't find an avaiblable place to stay. so we went straight to Shekhinah medical clinic to see if we could spend the night there. Thankfully we were found a room. There was two single beds so we pushed the beds together and shared a moment as the group looking up at the fan and quickly thinking back to the day and falling asleep to the sounds of Ghana. Today we went to Aryns volunteer placement, Anfani Childrens home to check in. It was a beautiful place and the smiles on the children who thankfully were not afriad of us and just wanted us to hold them was great. We will hopfully find a place to stay and spend our time volunteering. Next we will go to Mole National Park and hopefully see some wild life! I will hopefully get on the internet when we are at our retreat in Kumasi.

Peace & Love