Gotta Get Down on Friday

So last Friday was an awesome day. It started off fairly early - right after breakfast we headed into town to volunteer at the local health clinic. We definitely have some spare time, and so we want to do some good around the community. Although we don't have any technical skills in the health profession, I'm pretty sure we still helped. After a small amount of time wandering, each of us obronis were snatched up by a nurse and given a job. I'm not sure what the boys were doing, but Chelsey and I were in charge of checking people in. They had to go through one checkpoint first, to get their insurance information, then they went to Chelsey. She was in charge of writing their names in a register and finding their patient number, then retrieving their records. Then they came to me and Loretta, our nurse in charge of our station.
They would hand me their records (a little book with lots of space to write), then Loretta would take their blood pressure, pulse, temperature, weight, and symptoms. She would translate, and I would record them and send the books off to the doctor. It seemed that many people had similar symptoms, and I picked up a few of the words. Mostly the word for headache. (Which sounds a lot like Nietzsche, which is also equivalent to headache for me...) In the few hours we were there, we checked in about 70 people, ranging in age from 3 months to 86 years. They came for a whole host of things, from yearly checkups, or "reviews," to one lady who had had a miscarriage.
While we were there, an emergency case came in as well. About 4 guys rolled up in a red sedan, and they brought one of them up to the clinic over their shoulder. As I found out from Loretta later, he'd had a stroke, and would probably be paralyzed on his left side. He wasn't even old, only in his 20s or 30s. (It's really hard to guess how old people are here.)
Speaking of guessing ages, Loretta seemed to be astonished that I am only 21. She laughed out loud before telling me that she thought I was 45. Yes folks, 45. In an attempt to soothe my poor bruised ego, I asked her how old she thought Chelsey was. She guessed 19 without a second thought. She was exactly right. I am going to blame her guess on my height, since she also assumed I was in the military "because of my stature." Great, so now I'm white, freakishly tall, and I look old. Thank you Ghana, for the sucker punch to the gut of my self-confidence.
Luckily that evening was a much more uplifting time. We got to attend a baptism! The family is really cute. There are the parents and a son and a daughter. All of them were dressed in their Sunday best and waiting with the missionaries. Unfortunately not a lot of people came, but there were about 10 people in total there to support. The services were short but pleasant. There was a sweet Spirit in that church house in Abomosu. Afterward we all pitched in and cleaned up the church. It basically consisted of all of us setting up the chairs and sweeping the dirt out. It was great to be able to have helped in some way though.
Life is good in Ghana. More to come soon.