The heat is on. It has returned today and will hang around a few days. The humidity is at 76%. This afternoon we will have a rain storm which will morph into a heavy thunderstorm, but, for now, we have sun.

Henry has been limping for a few days. I knew he had to go to the vets, but I just didn’t have the money. I arranged to get some and off we went. Henry got checked, and it was decided he needs an x-ray. That will be tomorrow. Meanwhile, he is in pain so they gave him an ejection and he’ll start taking pain pills today. Also, he has a yeast infection. I won’t even describe his reaction to the spray on his groin. It wasn’t pretty. I am still aghast at the cost so far, and they have yet to diagnosis him.

This is the final installment of staging, the first step in Peace Corps training. My friends and I ditched a few sessions and did the tourist bit in Philadelphia. We went to the Museum of Art and pre-dated Rocky on the steps. We immersed ourselves in history, Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell. We went to the top of the William Penn Building. On one of the last nights, the psychologist I mentioned invited a few of us to dinner. It was a loud, fun evening and a last hurrah of sorts. The night before I left I called my parents to say good-bye. My mother cried. It broke my heart. I told her I would write almost immediately as I had no way to let her know I had arrived safely. I spoke to my father. We took a long time to say good-bye.

The next morning we left. Think about 120+ people with 80 pounds of luggage each and loading buses. It took a while. I remember the excitement. It was palpable. We boarded a TWA charter. The plane was full. I don’t know why, but I remember I sat towards the back. We flew over the cape. I remember the arm jutting into the sea and the water sparkling. Later, we had some food and many drinks. I think the drink cart was in perpetual motion. The film they showed was The Love Bug. That insignificant detail has stayed in my memory drawers all these years. We stopped in Madrid for refueling and a new crew. When we got back on-board, my seat belt was jammed, another strange memory which still hangs round 57 years later. After we flew out, the drinks began again before dinner two or three. We flew over the Sahara. I still remember the view.

We were exhausted when we arrived in Accra, but the excitement was greater. I remember walking out the plane door into the brightest sun. It was hot. The air smelled lush, of greenery. In the airport, we were greeted by Peace Corps and a Ghanaian official. We listened to the welcomes and had a libation of hot Fanta, the orange one. We then loaded the luggage and took off in buses. I snapped a few pictures of kiosks along the roadway and women in colorful cloth. I then promptly fell asleep and missed the long ride to Winneba, our first training site. What I remember most about arriving is the awe. I was in Africa.

I have a concert today.

We had a couple of days of rain then came the perfect day. Today, though, is hot at 84° with humidity making the day uglier. I have a new fan, a gift from my sister, so let the heat can come.

I have lived alone for most of my life. I’ve been mostly okay with that, but there are times I am lonely for conversation. I talk to my dogs, but they just listen. It is not a conversation but rather a soliloquy. I’d be gobsmacked if they talked back to me. When I do call people, I really don’t have anything spectacular to talk about. Mostly I just chit-chat about my days, unexciting as they are. The other day I chatted to my friend Peg about my uke events for the week and going to the dump. I added a bit of excitement to the narration by talking about how crowded the dump was. She listened patiently. We usually discuss the weather. She lives in New Hampshire so the weather is different, an exciting edge to the conversation. She tells me about her garden. I am always envious of her flowers and her vegetables. We talk doctors. Never did I envision that doctors would ever be part of any conversation of mine.

I left you at Logan the other day when I told you about the start of my Peace Corps journey so let me continue. I got to my seat in the plane and tried to put away everything I had carried with me. My seatmate wanted to know if I was running away from home. When I told him I was going into the Peace Corps, he bought me a drink. In Philadelphia I shared a cab to the hotel with another volunteer hopeful. I had seen some guy surrounded by luggage and asked. We were at the hotel Sylvania. I checked into the hotel, left my luggage then checked in with Peace Corps. I gave them my missing information and received my packet with the schedule and some per diem. I met people in line who over time would become good friends. It all started that evening. We met the staff, heard about Ghana, got an overview of the week and felt overwhelmed. Scheduled were lectures, slide shows, a one on one with a shrink of some sort, a dental checkup and a yellow fever shot. We were given addresses and had to find our way to the dentists assigned to each of us. Mine was a bus ride or two away. It was the same with the yellow fever shot.

I took some time alone by the fire escape and read an evening or two. I decompressed. I saw a movie I don’t remember. I do remember walking back to the hotel. I loved the interview with the psychologist. He worked at BU. He had a huge book of what he needed to ask and observe and gave it to me to read a bit. He walked me to the elevator, put his arm around my shoulder and said Africans liked big women.

That’s the end of today’s installment. There is only a bit more before our flight to Ghana.