Today was a nice, mellow day.  We were assigned a village called Piase.  Last year, the static clinic that they set up in this area was very busy.  Sure enough, our morning was busy as well, but again, in a very feast-or-famine manner.  We’d sit for 20 minutes with absolutely nothing to do, and then three people would appear, one with a basket of puppies, and we’d be scrambling to draw up enough vaccines.  It went like this all morning.   Fortunately, the table and chairs that comprised our static clinic were located under a nice big tree, and the shade kept things pretty cool. 

One guy came toward us on a bicycle.  He was holding a small blue paint pail.  I thought he was going to the community health center nearby, because he didn’t have any dogs with him. 

Then we looked in the pail and saw the pups.  

A small boy and girl came by with an adult dog for us to vaccinate.  We have leaflets that we give out to people when they get their dog vaccinated, and kids seem to especially like receiving them.  Maybe because the graphics resemble those of a comic book.

This girl was really happy to receive one.  

After this relatively busy morning, things slowed down, so our team headed to a small village nearby.  This village was more remote than most of the others that we had been servicing.  There was no actual road that you could take to get there.  We all got in the truck and began driving through a heavily wooded area. 

I didn’t think this path, which looked more like a walking trail, was wide enough for a truck like ours to forge through, but somehow we managed.  The trail continued to get more narrow, and then it stopped completely.  Our driver informed us that we had to continue on foot from here.  I had no idea how far it was. 

The wooded area was actually very nice, with a wide area of cocoa trees on both sides of the path. 

 The cocoa pods were in different states of ripeness, and so they were different colors.  

We continued to walk, and suddenly our path led us to a small ravine,  the only way to traverse it being to walk along a narrow, rickety makeshift bridge.

Charlotte said that she had a fear of heights, and she had to hold on to Adusei as they crossed it.  I crazily decided to video myself crossing this bridge.  

We walked a bit further, and the village came into view.  

I’ve seen and walked through many of these small villages now, but they continue to amaze me. This village was so small, and so remote.  You’d be hard pressed to find a scenario more different than my life in Manhattan.  

We were met by the family that lived at the home closest to the woods where we had just emerged, and we all sat down on these two benches that comprised our “clinic”. 

There were various breeds of poultry running around, as were cats, dogs, and goats.  I couldn’t imagine anyone actually coming all the way to the outskirts of this little village with their dogs, but they sure did.  We vaccinated a bunch more dogs, before finally heading home.  Crossing that bridge again was still a little nerve-wracking, but a little easier this time.  

Tomorrow is the big wrap-up.  The last day of the mission.

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 13 OF MISSION RABIES GHANA 2020

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 13 OF MISSION RABIES GHANA 2020