Moms Always Know-Thank Goodness!

I started this post last week on Thanksgiving but haven't had the right words to finish it. I know my mom has been able to sense that something is going on in my life over here that is bringing me down. Thank you mom for caring. How do mom's sense these things?

I'll do my best but this is the reason I haven't posted for a while. I thought I would add a few posts tonight that were more upbeat and then finish this one...

I am not even sure where to begin with this post. I've had a couple of very hard days this week which have made it tough to write. I've gone from sad to happy to mad to confused and then to homesick. I know the homesick part is due to the fact that I missed Thanksgiving with my family this year but another part of my emotional roller coaster is due to a little boy named
Trumpito.

I know I've mentioned him a time or two but not in depth and that is for good reason-my heart hurts. Trumpito was given to the Osu Children's Orphanage from very early on in his life. If you don't know much about the Osu Children's Orphange and would like to, please be cautious because the information you'll find is very, very disturbing. There are videos on Youtube if you want to see footage but I believe the link below will take you to an article that will paint a vivid picture. You won't need to read the entirety of the article to understand where I am going with this. *Just a side note; the news broke this story back in September of 2010 and there have been claims from the home that corrective actions have been made. However, I am a witness to say that whatever actions claimed to be made weren't for the better.

www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/artikel.php?ID=189565

According to the home, Trumpito was born five years ago in some sort of tragedy; which is the reason they named him Trumpito....Tragic...Trumpito...I don't understand. He is also far from five years old. If I were to guess, I'd say he's close to 9 but is at a kindergartner's learning level-if that. Some claim he has Autism which he might, but I think there is far more going on with this little guy than what meets the eye.

I've given Trumpito a nickname, TK, and I'll more explain later.

TK is in the very first class I taught and I immediately felt a connection with him. I think I started caring for him from the second I met him because all of the other kids were telling him he stunk and it broke my heart. TK cannot read nor write and he is very disruptive in class. However, he has a heart and a soul and he is a child of our Heavenly Father; therefore, I love him.

The first thing I noticed about TK were his eyes but then, sadly, his legs and feet and a few scars on his arms. He never wanted to wear his shoes and when I asked why, he said, "They hurt me." When I looked at his shoes, I noticed they were for a five year old. His feet were smashed into these tiny shoes. Not only that but he has cuts all over his toes. No wonder he doesn't want to wear his shoes. He is pouting in the picture with his arm up but you can see the scar on his arm; which is what he has all over his little body.

You can see how he walks on the

backs of his shoes; that is when he actually has them on.

No shoes....

I started finding his shoes in the most random spots throughout the school. I would ask him where his shoes were and he would just say, "They hurt me."

Here are a couple of the places he "hid" his shoes.

I also noticed how he is the child who is blamed for EVERYTHING! By the children and the teachers. Whenever anything goes wrong, I hear,

"Trumpito, did it!"

"Trumpito, stop it!"

"Trumpito, kneel!"

(the children kneel down when they are put in timeout.)

I couldn't help but resort back to my business classes and all of the sales training I've been through, what kept coming to my mind is, people want to feel needed-They need to feel needed. My poor little boy has never been needed. He doesn't even know what that feels like. His parents didn't need him, his "home" doesn't need him, the school doesn't need him.

Who needs Trumpito?

I do.

I made it my quest from that day forward to show TK just how needed he is in this world. Even if its just to one person, he is needed. I tried to talk to the teachers about it and they agreed that they would try to help...

So, first things first, let's give him a new outer makeover because the inner makeover is going to take a very, VERY long time to work on. I told TK that I wanted to buy him some new shoes but he had to promise me that he would leave them at school everyday and he has to take care of them. (If he wears anything new home, they take it from him and either sale it or give it to the older boys.) He promised but I could see it in his eyes that he had no faith in my intentions. He has been made promises before that never came through.

For a whole $7.00 at the market I was able to buy him a pair of sandals and sneakers.

This is how you measure feet in Accra; a stick. I was measuring his feet in the picture above where you can see all of the marks on his legs.

When I got to school the next morning, I wanted the gift to be from all of the teachers. I want the teachers to know how serious it is to follow through on their word. I'd also love for the teachers to fall in love with him before I leave. 


So, we gathered the teachers and Trumpito together and presented him with his new shoes. 


Look at his face in the pictures. He doesn't look happy, right? Well, that was my worry.

TK is very comfortable with the driver for our school, John and John said Trumpito is in shock. He said he is waiting for someone to take the shoes from him.

Here is John, the driver.

John explained to him that they are his and no one will take them as long as he keeps the promises he made to me.

He slowly started to smile.

Yep, my sunglasses and his new shoes made for a happy little boy.

He even wanted to take a picture of his shoes himself.

I also told Trumpito that I wanted to give him a nickname. I had to explain to him what a nickname is but once he figured it out he was so excited to have something of his very own...his nickname. I won't go into the day names you receive in Ghana but his is Koffee.

So Trumpito Koffee is now TK!

I also told him that he is a very good boy and that I love him.

I asked him if he feels he is a good boy-No.

I asked him if he is given hugs-No

I asked him if he is told that he is loved-No

I made him promise me that he will tell himself that he is a good boy everyday and that everyday he must remember that I love him.
 His eye just sparkled.

That is the good news.

The day went on as usual. TK would come to me any chance he could just to feel wanted. As the school day came close to being over, I could see something come over him. Then I remembered how when I first got to school that morning he told me his head was burning. 

I asked him a few questions about it but figured he had a little headache.

I also noticed how as the day was coming to an end how he started to misbehave more and more. So, I pulled him aside and sat him down and told him I wanted to know what was on his mind (I have to use words he can understand otherwise he would look for something that was on his head. :))

He looked directly at me for a few seconds and then all of a sudden his little eyes started going in all sorts of directions. He started waving his little hands back and forth and his stuttering went out of control. I held him for a second close to me and said, "TK, I love you and you are such a good boy. I need you to use your words please."

"They beat me. Please don't make me go home."

My heart sunk and my stomach hurt.

I asked him what he meant and he told me, after a lot of calming and soothing him, that the older boys in the house beat him all of the time. They told TK that morning that when he returned from school that they were going to beat him. I asked him if he had told the "mom" of his home and he said, "Yes, but she said I am crazy and that is why they beat me."

I asked what he meant by crazy and he just pointed to his head and said, "Crazy".

He then proceeded to show me the scars from the beatings. It is acceptable by most here in Ghana to cane children at home and at school; which is something that I will NEVER

stand for at our school.

The scars on his body are from being caned. The scars on his legs are from being pushed down and then the boys purposefully reopening the cuts. He has burn marks on his arms. He has a scar under his mouth. He always has cuts in his mouth. That same day he told me his bum hurt. I asked him if he needed to take a bath and he said no and that he had taken one that morning. So, I flat out asked him why his bum hurts, knowing the answer already, and his little mind went into a completely different world and he ran away.

The very worst part of all of this; there is no doubt in my mind that the administrators of Osu know about all of this. In fact, they are more than likely telling the older boys to do so.

TK has major learning problems and speech impediments so he is considered to be crazy at his home. As you read in the article, the children who have the most problems are the children who are neglected the most.

I didn't even know what to say or what to do. In America, you call the authorities. In Ghana, there is no such thing. Besides, the government here funds the Osu Home.

TK begged me to let him stay at school. I tried to calm him but he just kept saying that he will sleep at his desk in his classroom but not to make him go home.

I tried to talk to the teachers about it but the whole Osu Child Abuse issue is old news to them. They just said that they've tried to do something about it in the past but nothing will change because that would take the government to admit a mistake; which we all know that doesn't happen.

I sat for the last hour of the day in pain. Trying my hardest to solve a huge problem as fast as I could. Well, the driver showed up to take the children to their home. TK changed out of his shoes like he promised to do. He looked up at me and begged me again not to make him go home, only this time he had tears in his eyes.

I told him he had to go home so he could sleep in his own bed (even though they share three to a single bed) and that he had to be strong. I told him that I love him and that he is a very good boy. I made him repeat it to me and then gave him a big hug. I told him I would try my hardest to visit him at home that night but I couldn't promise. Then I watched him walk down the ramp with tears in his little eyes to the car.

I ran to Uncle Ben and told him that TK was so upset that he was crying. Ben said he wishes there was something he could do about it but his hands are tied. I don't disagree with Ben on this. This country is just not America. I'm not saying America is perfect in anyway but at least I can call someone in America in this sort of situation for help.

The reason I told TK I would try my hardest to visit him at home is because since the news story broke about Osu, they have closed down random visits. One must be cleared ahead of time to visit and even then, there are no guarantees. Why would they do this if they have taken the corrective actions they claim they made??? They claim its because they don't want anything taken out of context that could make the home look bad. How about all of the bruises and cuts on your children, not to mention a little girl who wets herself every time she meets a strange man (story below)???

Sure enough, I wasn't able to visit him...yet.

I've been told that if I go with a teacher from our school to visit Osu that I am allowed in because the children attend our school. I'm going to let the head "Madam" know that I am writing a story about the four children but my main focus is on Trumpito.

I have been told that if the school knows that someone is taking a particular interest in a certain child then they watch that child more closely. They don't want any negativity coming from their home. They will watch out for TK because they know an American is writing a story about him....I hope anyway.

So needless to say, TK and I had a pretty tough day. I actually didn't go to school the next day nor did the Osu children. I didn't see them until Monday and TK was just as he most always is....a happy little boy.

I've had a very hard time with the way children are treated here. I've done a lot of thinking and praying about it. I am one who likes to be in control, (big surprise I know!) but in this country, or anywhere really, I am unable to control anything but myself. Meaning, I can't change Ghanaians culture myself. I can only try to learn where what I don't know is coming from and maybe try to influence those around me. I am not here to change Africa. I am here to learn about Africa. That being said, no child should fear going home in any part of the world ever.

I have decided that I can only do what I can do and that is to show TK how much I truly love and care about him while I am here. I am going to do all that I can to give him the love that every child deserves. I only have a small amount of time to do so but I will give it my all. I know this will not happen through buying him new shoes and that so wasn't the point. I want him to know that he is needed and that someone is thinking about him.

I taught him the "I Love You" hand sign and he LOVES it.  So we always say I love you through our hands.

He, in return had something pretty cool to show the other kids. They all thought he was the coolest thing ever! Even the babies started playing with him; which for some reason all of the other little kids thought that was so awesome!

Haha! It took some of them a little longer to go from the already known Peace sign to the I Love You sign.

I can't even tell you how much he's already changed and how much the children have learned to respect him. He just wants to be loved. Whenever I'm around, it doesn't matter where, but he has to have one hand on me. He loves to put his hand on my arm or play with my hair (all the kids love playing with my hair because it is "so flowing and white"). He especially loves putting my arm around him, as do I. He just longs for the feeling of affection.

I don't know how its possible to love a child the way I love my TK in such a short amount of time.

I would give anything to adopt him if I could.

He is the reason I came to Ghana...

(Yes, those are sweat marks on my stomach!!!)

As a side story of this same home but not to veer too far from TK...I have another little girl in my school from Osu who doesn't really talk. She just smiles and shys away when someone talks to her. When she first started coming to school, she would just wee wee on herself all of the time. Auntie Lydia was very concerned about her so she went to the home to figure out what was going on. When the little girls "mom" was addressed about the issue, she told Lydia that the girls who are "weak" in the home are taught how to toughen up by the older boys. They are held down on the bed and forced to "toughen" up. I'm not going to go into detail because you know what I mean.

.

Anytime a man tries to speak to this little girl she runs and hides until she feels she can trust him.

Here are our other two children that we have in our school from Osu. As you can see, these girls are tough enough!

Gifty is her name.

This is Betsy. She is the smallest thing ever but she is so so so feisty!

These two little girls are best of friends.













I was getting on TK's case for throwing up hand signs while we were taking a picture but little did I know that the little darlin Betsy was throwing up her own signs. She is a tough little thing!

Anyway, the home told Lydia they would start watching the girls better at night. Things seem to have gotten better for her since then. She is able to control herself now but she still doesn't talk.

I would love for all of the children to have a mom like mine. One who just knows...

I love you, mom, and am so thankful for you and for the amazing gift of a family-

a loving family.

Great!

I wouldn't even know where to begin to describe the traffic here in Accra!  It is NOTHING like I've ever seen before!

It is a nonstop rat race!  There are around 4 million people in Accra but only a few have a car.  So their options are to walk, to take a taxi or to catch the Tro-Tro (bus).  If you're really brave, or stupid, you can grab a ride on a motorcycle.  Just keep in mind that both the pedestrians and motorcyclists have absolutely no right of way on the roads.

The motorcyclist weave in and out of the cars.  I know we've all seen this done in San Francisco and such but in America there are traffic laws that are followed.  Not here!
I honestly won't be able to do it justice when trying to describe it but it is pure mayhem!


mayhem |ˈmāˌhem|
noun; violent or damaging disorder; chaos : complete mayhem broke out.


So, there are stop signs, traffic lights, crosswalks, speed limits, etc....but do you think they are there for any specific reason?  Nope!  It's always a mad race to the finish line yet there is no finish line.  You honestly take your life into your own hands if you choose to take a taxi.  The Tro-Tro's are larger so there is a bit more safety but not 100%.

Then add the street vendors to the mess!  Wait!  Motorcyclists do have the right away when it comes to the street vendors.  They have to jump out of everyone's way!  

Look at these 2 little girls walking the streets trying to make some money by selling water.  This is not abnormal at all.  Most of them are forced to work by their parents but to them its life and they seem to be okay with it.

You see MANY wrecks here!  You don't call the police when you get into an accident...

...you just get out of your car and fight it out and then drive away.

Cars are broken down everywhere!

This is how they transport their cattle.  However, sometimes the cattle are running freely down the road.

This is how they advertise at times.  They load a couple big speakers in the back of a truck, play really loud music while handing out flyers (that end up all over the ground) while in traffic.

I snapped a picture from the back of the Tro-Tro where I was sitting.  I know my mom would die if she knew I was the only girl on the entire bus....love you momma!

The main problem with the Tro-Tro is the smell.  Again with the smell.  Remember how I said I needed to get use to the smell of body oder?  Well, this is the best place to work on it.  People put their arms out the window leaving us that are left in the middle of the bus to catch a breeze that comes directly from their pits.  Wonderful.  

Also, most of the cell phones here have FM radio so it's not uncommon to have 4 or 5 different radio stations playing at the same time; in addition to the drivers gospel music and people talking on their cell phones. 

Tiny little taxi.  Usually, the doors don't stay shut and you have to open them from the outside to even get out.

Douglas.  He wants to take me to the beach! :)

You spend at least three hours in traffic driving home because of all of the road construction and craziness on the road.  Utah is blessed to have U-DOT (or whatever it's called).  

Sometimes, Lydia and Kweku will call their driver to come sit in traffic so the two of them can just walk home.  They have a driver to help with kids at home and at school.  Kweku arrived home a couple of nights ago at 9:30 and looked exhausted.  He said he only made it half way home and decided to pull over, park his car and walk to rest of the way home.  The driver wasn't available to sit in traffic for him.

Lydia's brother-in-law is writing a book while sitting in the traffic about what he has learned while sitting in traffic.

Picture a Round-about.  Now picture one where you don't yield for anyone and there are two additional lanes made up.  It is a leap of faith that you make it through without being smashed by another driver.

The drivers all think they know of a shortcut so they take the roads that aren't really even roads.  Its like a small version of climbing the rocks in Moab.  I'll have to snap a good photo of the typical shortcut road but for now you can see the picture at the end of this post to get a small taste.

So, one day I had to run home from school really quick and didn't want to pay for a taxi so I decided to borrow the old broken down car that the school uses while their bus is down and out

BIG MISTAKE!!!

I was coasting along nicely with no power steering, no lights in or out of the car, breaks sort of working none of the gauges working and I even stopped at the stop sign.  Yep, I still obey the laws of the land even though I get honked at for doing so.  I go to make a left hand turn and 

BAMMMM!!!!

The road literally gave out from under me!  There is a huge hole in the ground and the way it was fixed was by filling it up with old tires, covering it with dirt and some sort of a bar and then some more dirt.  

 Well, I happened to be the lucky one who didn't make it over the amazing bridge!  My front drivers side tire was completely stuck.  Here I am, trying to drive in a country where there aren't any traffic laws, I don't know anyone around.  I can't just google the nearest tow truck, I hit my head and my wrist but the worst of all, the SWEAT!  It never stops!!!  But then, out of nowhere, every single person in site stopped everything they were doing to come lift my car out of the hole for me.  They were all apologetic for the accident even though they had nothing to do with it.   The best part about it, not one of them expected anything out of helping a stranger in need.  

Again, I will write a post about the people of Ghana.  They are the some of the most amazing people I have ever met...until they get into a vehicle!

I wasn't the only one who got sucked into the makeshift bridge!  At least I wasn't driving a Tro-Tro!

 I wouldn't trade any of this for the world though-even the B.O. Tro-Tro rides!  

I love Ghana and always look forward to the next experience!

Just for You Daddy!

Made in South Africa and tastes nothing like American Oreo's

But they are still tasty!

Love you Bishop Dad!

Warning-May Be Too Graphic for Some!

I was thinking the other day, as I was walking down the streets of Accra, about how when I first arrived in Ghana the new things I saw daily shocked me but now that it's been a few weeks, I rarely notice things out of "my" ordinary.

So, I'll get the graphic stuff out of the way so that Mom and Megan can enjoy the rest of the post. :)


The smells (Megan, I have most definitely found the WORST smell in the entire world!!!)  Just think of any and all of the smells that have made you gag and then combine them into one area but you have to make sure the wind is blowing in your direction to gain the full effect!!!  Even the guy I was with gagged when we crossed this bridge and he's from Accra!

In third world countries, toilets are almost a luxury.  So, when you don't have the luxuries, what do you do?  You use the street as your toilet.  It doesn't matter if you are male or female, if you have to go #1 or #2, if you're young or old, you use the street as if it is your own private bathroom.  When I first arrived in Accra, I always had to take a double look because I thought for sure that I didn't just see a
nicely dressed woman drop her drawers on the side of the street.  Now, I don't even think twice about it.  However, when it does register into my mind what I just witnessed, I get a little grossed out.  More-so than that, I try not to look into the gutters if I don't have to.  Otherwise, the gag reflexes are in full force!

 Which leads me to my next item; all of the rubbish everywhere!  I can't say that I don't notice it ever because I actually do when I see someone just throw their trash to the ground.  If I pass by trash that has already been tossed then it doesn't phase me but when I see it tossed, I get so sad.  We are trying to teach the children at school that God gave us this beautiful world so we need to respect it.  The only problem with that, the teachers need to lead by example....hmmmm.  In America, there are trash cans everywhere but here, I am lucky to find even one on the public streets.  As if the gutters aren't gross enough, there are chickens and goats eating out of them.  Ghanaians love chicken!!!!  Where do they get the chicken they eat?  I have yet to be okay with eating chicken here.









However, they do have a KFC!

The bugs-they are everywhere!  I don't even check my plate anymore or the table where I set my drink because it's a given that there will be tiny little creatures crawling around.

Using the street as your tissue...I don't need to describe what I'm talking about other than two words-Farmer Blow!  Men and women!  In addition to that, they burn their rubbish here so there's always a smell of burning trash no matter where you are.  This causes a lot of chest congestion so most will dispose of whatever is caught within them whenever or where ever they are....fun.

Men (I haven't seen any women yet do this) bathe themselves using the gutter and then air drying.  Yep, he's hanging completely loose!  However, these men are still very much living a Tribal life while trying to survive in the city.  Only ignorant people, such as myself, who haven't witnessed this in the past are surprised by a naked old guy leaning up against the fence.

Here are a couple more pictures of the body of something that has the most wonderful smell protruding from it...just in case the first couple of pictures didn't paint the picture for you.

Trust and believe me, this post is just for fun.  There are so many things I experience here that I hope never to grow tired of.  I will list some of them in a later post because they deserve a post all of their own.