In which I confide some of my many panics...

I will start with the current one:

We have a large gas cylinder for cooking which is beginning to run out.  In order to get a replacement it must be taken to Bolgatanga, 30 miles west, along a half tarmac, half-track road, both full of potholes.  We have no means of transport except the tro tro or bus.  So, we face the prospect of begging time off work in order to lug this thing, in 30° heat, to the bus, find the stall in Bolga, and return with a full one.  That is, unless we can come up with a better plan.  I’ll let you know!

Other panics:

The first days

No amount of training can prepare you for the moment when you are left to fend for yourself in a completely strange environment and culture; the utter desolation and shock of being alone, not knowing whether to turn right or left when you leave the house; not knowing a sole for hundreds of miles.  It is frightening!  With my heart in my mouth, pounding away, we boldly went where many men have gone before … but not us.  Needless to say, we survived.

The first night was also a trauma.  Now, some of you may know I’m a little claustrophobic.  We have a mosquito net around the bed (Paul now refers to it as The Wendy House).  So, we are tucked in all around and the air is stiflingly hot…the sort of hot where you can’t get enough air into your lungs and you want to dive into the fridge (I have great sympathy for you asthmatics nowadays!).  Add to this the fear of the dark; not your average Oxford night but – the dark – no electricity for miles etc.  Paul, true to form, falls asleep instantly. I lie awake, trying to breathe, calmly; next door has an electric light shining into our room…makes no difference…I’m days away from my family, from anything and everything I know about.  Up I get, palpitations, panic; what if…how can I get back?  Paul patiently talks me through all the emergency plans and procedures and produces the little wind up torch. 

 I still wind the torch up every night and go to sleep by its comforting light!

The phone

I did not bring a phone on the understanding that once in Accra we would be shown how to buy phones and sims.  Everyone else seemed to have brought phones.  Did I get it wrong?  It took until day 3, with me constantly worrying the staff (when are we going to buy phones; how do you do it; what’s the best network?) before we were escorted to the Vodaphone shop.  From there it was easy.  The staff just sailed me through and, after a few practises, my phone is my lifeline!

Incidentally, most Ghanaians have mobile phones (often 2 or 3) which they use constantly- for greeting (yes, they phone just to say hello and then go again) and for all manner of business!

The modem

Despite more worrying of staff in Accra, we did not purchase a modem there.  We were assured that it was better to get one in Zebilla to ensure purchasing the best network for the area.  In true Jane style I worried and festered over this; I like things done and dusted.

Well, actually you can’t buy a modem here; you have to go to Bolga (I knew it).  So, on our first Saturday we braved the tro tro to Bolga.  As we arrived we asked one of the young men on board where we needed to alight.  When we explained that we needed a modem from the Vodaphone office he not only got off the bus with us but escorted us on the 15 minute, sweltering walk to the shop; waited whilst we purchased the modem; showed us where to go to register it and then exchanged phone numbers so that he could call and greet us the next day.  This is typical of the generosity of people here.

The internet

continues to have me on tenterhooks, causing frequent mood swings and bouts of despair but also joy when I can connect.  The day after installing the modem I turned on my computer to discover everything…YES-EVERYTHING had been wiped.  No photos, no music, no files…nothing.  We rebooted many, many times.  I despaired, paced the room, cursed, wailed, berated VSO!  It wasn’t until Paul remembered a similar problem on a friend’s (thanks Stella!) new computer that we realized it was a windows 8 problem.  Paul managed to find and restore the files and all was well (apart from the damage to my heart as it spent the day in overdrive).  Well, until today, when it happened all over again!  I don’t think you can imagine how distraught it makes me…my connection with you all and my past (yes, it’s all on a hard drive at home but what good is that!).  Ok, so I need to store it here too.  Poor Paul, he has to ride many a storm!

The water

The first time we ran out of water came as a bit of a shock.  It has happened several times since and we are resigning ourselves to the on-going problem.  We have a large polytank which at present is full.  However, the ballcock which stops the water coming in (like in the toilet) is broken, so the thing keeps overflowing with water leaking out all over the place.  Then you have to switch it all off and sometimes we lose the flow…all very complicated.  The landlady is aware but it seems to be a difficult problem to fix.  Fortunately we have bins full of water in the house (clearly this is not a new problem) so we are all right so far.  However, bathing in a dribble of water is not the most fun!  I wonder what it will be like when the water becomes scarce (perhaps I’d better save that panic for a later date!),

 

All in all, everything is more of a challenge here in Zebilla.  But hey!  We have completed our first month away… and we’re still hanging on in there!  And next time I’ll be able to tell you some of the highlights!