true initiation: a trip to the hospital

Last Friday was the first day that I actually missed home.  And know what did me in?

Strep throat.

While I was sitting in the hospital waiting for the registrar from the University’s International Programs Office to figure everything out, I realized that down the road I would probably appreciate this ordeal for the cultural experience it provided, but at the moment, I was in no state to be thinking about anything other than pain.  I was pulled from room to room only to wait outside a closed door while administrative processes were taken care of… at least I assume that’s what was going on.  Alone, I honestly would have had no idea where to go or how to see any sort of doctor.  The hospital was slightly reminiscent of a motel.  All the unlabeled rooms were connected to an outdoor waiting area, which was full of people.

I did feel a bit silly there- the only white girl- needing drugs for a silly throat ache.   Other women sat calmly, crying baby in their arms, wrapped in beautiful African print.  There were probably worse cases sitting on those waiting benches (malaria here is as common as our flu back home), and I couldn’t help but feel like I was taking time from them.  Then again, that also seems presumptuous of me.  Do I actually feel like everyone in the “third world” is worse off than me or was I merely trained to think like that?  Nevertheless, the hospital indeed felt different than anything I’ve known: the smell of antiseptic, the wood benches perched outside a room of three nurses checking patients’ temperatures right next to each other.  I couldn’t help but think of my car taking me to a nice air-conditioned building where I would merely confirm my insurance, sit in a comfy chair in a carpeted room full of the latest magazines, and wait for a smiling nurse to promptly call my name. 

I have moved into a graduate hostel and am rooming with a wonderful person from Botswana.  Lesego (luh-say-ho) is doing a two-year master’s in food science.  I could tell we would get along when she asked the woman at the bank for an extra Werther’s Original for me because I was patiently waiting for her.  I could tell we would be friends when she called me at the hospital and asked if she could come wait with me.  We laugh a lot so I know it will be a good friendship. People at the International Programs Office are nice, but it’s even more comforting to know that a peer has your back.  

Today was the first day of classes.  Even though all the students know the professors don’t view the real first day to be until next week, we still had to show up and wait a good 30-45 minutes just to make sure.  I’m so used to Lawrence where professors scrounge for every minute.  It just seems a little funny.  In all honesty, I would love nothing more than to start classes and feel like my life is getting going.  Right now it seems like I’m on some weird non-traveling, non-sight-seeing vacation. Finally unpacked my suitcase today even though they are going to move us to the building next door sometime in the “near future.” I’m aware that Ghanaian time is different, but I’m still trying to get a feel for exactly how much.