The Nanny Diaries, Part 3

Things are never simple here. Never. How foolish of me to think that we would just simply walk in to the hospital and pick up the insurance card that we had been waiting for since January!!

The man behind the counter looked through his stacks of envelopes and couldn't find one for Stella. I wasn't convinced that he was doing a good job looking, I wasn't even convinced that there was a method to the stacks, so I was starting to lose patience with this whole National Insurance Scheme. Luckily for me, the district manager of the NIS was there and he insisted that despite my having a receipt in hand, there was no paperwork for Stella. Finally, he pulled out the ledger book -- yes, an old-fashioned, pre-computer ledger book that tracks all activity!! -- and sure enough, on the exact date of the receipt is MY name! The man was clearly confused by this, and it turns out that MY name was in the ledger because the receipt was made out in my name since I had paid for the insurance. However, all of the paperwork that had been filled out, and the picture attached to that paper work, was Stella's. I was told that since the receipt was in my name the card would have been made out in my name regardless of what it said on the paperwork. So, I said, that was fine, to please give me my card! But, of course, thee was no card in the stacks for me either. I definitely made a stink. I big huge stink. Stella, at this point, was wishing she hadn't come in. Ghanaians don't tend to protest about anything, so the fact that I was protesting, and loudly made Stella quite uncomfortable. In the end, it turned out that nothing could be done until Monday (it was Friday morning) because the manager was on his way to meetings outside of the office and he wouldn't be at the office until Monday, and then the card would have to be made, and he swore up and down that we would have the card on Tuesday.

I asked if he could write a note saying that Stella was insured so that she could see someone there at the clinic and he said that it didn't work that way, and without the card in hand, she wouldn't be seen.I was skeptical about Tuesday for sure, but I didn't have any other option but to wait and see.

However, I still had a sick nanny on my hands, so Ben drove us to the Akai House Clinic, a private clinic where I have taken Chloe and myself., and paid for Stella's office visit. It's a strange system here where you pay before you see the Dr. No cash, no visit. It's as simple as that. Anyway, I paid and left to go pick up Chloe from school. I told Stella to wait until Ben could return to pick her up from the Clinic. When I got into the car, immediately Ben said to me, Stella's pregnant! I thought so, too, but wondered why he had thought so. His reason was that Stella was producing too much saliva! HUH???

That was the first time that I had ever heard of excess saliva as a symptom of pregnancy! And turst me, I had done plenty of online research about early symptoms of pregnancy and had never come across that one!! Since then, though, I have seen it in pregnancy magazines, etc. Anyway, it was true...Stella had been spitting quite a lot lately...and other things too gross to go into. So, the car ride home Ben was telling me all the troubles that Stella was going to have if it was true that she was pregnant..especially since she wasn't married. And the fact that Carlos was half Nigerian...OH MY...that was enough to make Ben MAD AS HELL....the Nigerians get an awful rap around here--kind of like New Jersey.

When Stella returned to the house, she confirmed that she was pregnant. Well, she hadn't had the test to prove it, but the Doctor had asked her a bunch of questions and given her an exam and had believed she might be pregnant, and wrote her a prescription for a pregnancy test. Luckily, Stella didn't have that kind of money on her to go to the MedLab that was located in the same building to pay for the pregnancy test -- I just gave her one of the store bought tests I'd brought back from the States. Ben's take, though, was that there was NO WAY that Stella didn't already know she was pregnant...although, to this day, she swears she had no idea. And, Ben was pissed off that Stella had wasted my time and money in taking her to the Dr.

The odd thing was that the prescription for the pregnancy test didn't have her name on it. I asked her whose name it was and she said she didn't know, that it was just the paper that the Dr had given to her off his desk. Hmmm....??? I asked her if she was happy about the pregnancy, and she said, "yes"....which seemed so impossible given everything that people had told me. I did wonder if she was faking this whole thing and had just taken this piece of paper off the Dr's desk. I know it sounds paranoid, but the stories you hear around here about things the staff fakes in order to get away with something...

So, I took the prescription with me and had Ben take me back to the clinic. And I asked the Dr. if he had prescribed the pregnancy test for Stella. And he said he had. When I asked him why Stella's name wasn't on the sheet, he was horrified. It turned out that the woman he had seen before Stella was the name he had written on the prescription in error! He begged me not to tell anyone, and re-wrote the form. Then I tried to have a conversation with him about Stella's "options" because I was afraid that she would go to a "clinic" and abort the baby that weekend...it was just something that she had said that made me think this...and not that I have anything against abortion, but abortion isn't legal in Ghana, and someone without means, like Stella, would be having a back alley, coat hanger style procedure! Well, this Doctor, who is Lebanese, confirmed that there were methods that could be done safely, and obtained legally, but since he didn't believe in abortion, he wouldn't tell me anything else. Seriously??

Well, the pregnancy sure would explain a lot...not just the exhaustion or depressed state Stella had been in, but the middle of the night crying, the erratic behavior, and yes, even the disappearing ring!

Tuesday AM, I sent Stella to the hospital on her own to pick up the card, and was relieved to learn that she actually had it. She said they had spotted her a mile away, remembering that she was the one with the crazy white lady. I told her that that was just fine...she may be the one with the crazy white lady, but she's also the one with the insurance card in hand, while other sheepish folks are STILL WAITING!!!

Well now there really truly was a use for that damned card! The problem was that NO INFORMATION whatsoever came with that card. So, now that Stella had the card, what? I had Ben take me to the district office because I thought for sure they would have some information there. I called first and they told me that they had some outdated pamphlets and that new ones were being printed, but I was welcome to the old ones. When I got there, though, the reception was quite icy. There were stack sand stacks of envelopes just like there were at the hospital where we picked up Stella's card. It's no wonder people are waiting four months and longer for their cards! No one would give me any information. They didn't know what I was there for. They said the new pamphlets wouldn't be available for at least another 4 weeks. They wanted to know who the insured person was and when I told them Stella, they said that they had finished the card the other day and got all defensive. So, again I explained to them that the issue wasn't that we were missing the card, but that we were missing information on how to use the card! I finally left in exasperations. As I got into the car Ben brought to my attention that a lady was calling after me. His take was that she was in charge and got wind that an "obruni" was in the office and believed I was a reporter...again, fine with me if it gets me what I want. The lady couldn't have been lovilier. She did reiterate that the pamphlets were outdated and the new ones wouldnt be available for a while, but that the old pamphlets still had pertinent information, the new ones would just describe MORE benefits.

Through this pamphlet we learned where Stella's "home" hospital was and about what level of prenatal care she would get, etc. etc.

The following week, Stella was convinced that she had malaria, so off to the La General Hospital we went. Malaria and pregnancy just simply don't mix!

The Nanny Diaries, Part 2

Well, honestly, the odd behavior started earlier.

Brent's mother, Carol, arrived here the Tuesday before Easter. The day was incredibly chaotic for many reasons. And, to make a long story quite short, my engagement ring "went missing" (as they call it here). I noticed that I wasn't wearing it for much of Tuesday, but I didn't think anything of it. Not until Wednesday when I returned from Chloe's playgroup in the AM did I really set to look for it. And it just didn't appear. The whole house was turned upside down, with the exception of the master bedroom.

Stella had been in between apartments so she had been staying in our guest room quite often. But the week Carol arrived, Stella was here and then she wasn't and her plans kept changing -- one minute she'd say she was staying the night, and the next, she was headed out the door. I didn't think much of it at the time.

You get lots of warnings around here about staff stealing things. Sometimes it's small things like toys or underwear...yes, underwear! Other times it's serious, like passports and large stashes of cash. But we had never had any problem at all with Stella. Nothing. The fact that my ring was missing caused great confusion in me because I honestly couldn't imagine Stella taking it. But what other explanation was there? And believe me, I created so many explanations in my head that it was going to explode. People all told me I was crazy, that OF COURSE Stella took it...it didn't just walk away! And Stella is the only household help I have, so she's the only one implicated. Still I had a very hard time imagining her doing it.

She played innocent. We never accused her. We just looked and looked and involved her in the process. She left the house on Wednesday night to visit friends, and I really thought that Thursday morning, I would have my ring back. We thought that maybe she had gone out to retrieve the ring from wherever it was. But no, Thursday AM, the ring wasns't anywhere.

Finally, I made up a story that I had to report the ring loss to the police because we would have to file an insurance claim in the States and they would require the police report. In addition, because of the value of the ring, the US Embassy would have to conduct an investigation, and since Stella worked in the house, they would have to get information from her. I told Stella that it would be much "nicer" if I got the information from her instead of the Embassy because they wouldn't necessarily treat her well. So, I got the names and phone numbers of everyone she had spoken to on her cell -- dialed and received calls -- in the last 48 hours. I got the contact info for her landlord, her last several employers, etc. etc. She was very very nervous, but still played innocent. I felt awful. But I never once accused her.

I left that morning to do errands and such, and stop at the police station to make my report. A couple of hours had passed and my next stop would be the Cantonmnets Police Station. But my phone rang. It was Carol. The ring had been found! Where? Exactly where EVERYONE had told me the ring would show up. Under our bed! (Apparently, I'm not the only one who has experienced "missing" jewelry) But at that point in time, our "bed" was simply a king-sized mattress on the floor. The mattress is insanely heavy, so how would the ring get there? Not to mention that my last recollection of having the ring was in the kitchen cooking, and taking it off because I was getting my hands really gross with fish and stuff.

Intense relief. Incredible disbelief.

That weekend, Stella was supposed to accompany us to the beach for the holiday weekend. Thursday afternoon, she bowed out. Good Friday is a Ghanaian holiday, so we didn't see her again until we returned from the Coast. I really didn't even know if we would see her again, but she had left many things at the house, so I thought we probably would.

The following week, Stella wasn't herself. Just dragging. Napping. Being very quiet. I thought that maybe she was feeling a bit depressed about the whole ring thing. Knowing that even though she had never been accused, she was under question. Even though the ring was recovered, and even though there was no proof that Stella had actually done anything, she knew that the trust had been shaken. Anyway, so I didn't think too much about it. One night, she came downstairs at about 9:30PM while we were all in the living room, and she was clearly crying. She made up some story about her uncle and asked to use my phone as her phone was out of "units". When I followed up with her about her uncle days later, she dismissed the whole thing.

When the next week, she was still dragging through her day and spending a great part of the day sleeping on the kitchen floor, I insisted that she go to the Dr. The thought had crossed my mind that perhaps she was pregnant, but as I had asked her why she didn't move in with her boyfriend, Carlos, her answer was that if she moved in with him he would never marry her, and since she's so very "CHRISTIAN", I dismissed the idea.

So, off to the 37th Military Hospital we went. Thinking that Stella could pick up the health insurance card we had gotten for her in January and just walk into the clinic...

The Nanny Diaries, Part 1

When it comes to staff, we were incredibly fortunate! And as crazy as it sounds, you really do HAVE to have staff here. It's not a luxury, it's a necessity. And that's not crazy expat logic. Daily life here is such that no matter how modest the house, if you want to have any modern, developed-world conveniences you absolutely have to have help in order to actually enjoy them. Hell, forget about modern conveniences...if you want to eat fresh fruits and vegetables you at least need to have a cook...otherwise it will take you ALL DAY to prepare one single meal.

We decided early on that we needed and wanted a driver. We found ours by taking local taxis during the first month we were here (January). We happened upon this really nice guy named Ben, who owned his taxi, was actually literate, had a real driver's license, spoke reasonably good English AND stopped for pedestrians. These are all unusual characteristics for a driver (yes, even he driver's license!!). After almost a month of part-time driving, we offered him a job as our driver once our car came. Actually, he brought it up to us, but we never in million years thought he'd take the job because from his hourly rate to drive us around in his taxi he could often make in one 10-hour day what he would make in an entire 5-day week of 11-hour days driving us in our car! As he'd never been a private driver he didn't really have an idea of what the pay was. We let him know, we pointed out the vast income difference (assuming he could actually get an obruni to pay him hourly with any degree of regulariy) and told him to think about it. We were thrilled when he accepted, and equally happy to have one staffing problem solved!

Household help was another issue. One of the reasons we chose to live in Orchid Gardens, or the Melrose Place of Accra, was because it came complete with security guards, maintenance staff, gardeners, pool boys, etc., thereby greatly reducing the number of people we would have to directly employ -- never mind source! So, that left us with the decision of housekeeper vs. nanny vs. cook...or some combination. Ideally, we'd get an all in one, but knowing that wasn't likely, we decided to go for a housekeeper/nanny. What we found was a housekeeper/nanny who wants to cook (but of course can only cook Ghanaian, which has limited appeal...but she is an avid learner of all things culinary). Stella came to us by way of Brent's boss's wife, Jackie -- who is somehow incredibly tapped in to absolutely everything and everybody here in Accra. Stella was working, temporarily, for a friend of Jackie's while the friend was "in between" nannies. The permanent nanny was starting and Stella was in search of a new "home". She was the first person I met, and she seemed fine. The culture here is so different from that at home that I knew that interviews weren't going to be very useful for me and that the only way to know was to try a nanny out. Luckily, we were in a hotel and I only wanted someone a couple of hours a day so I could get some things done--built in nanny testing period. So, I essentially hired her on the spot.

And then, I had to go get her tested...tested for TB, AIDS, Hepatitus ABC, etc. etc. Just hearing from people what it would be like to do this at the "local" clinic was enough to make my head spin! You don't just go to the Dr. and get tests done. You go to the Dr. and pay the consult fee (before you are even seen). During the visit he/she will "prescribe" all the tests you need. Then off you go with your test Rx to the lab. At which point, you have to cough up even more money before they draw your blood, etc. And then you're off to the imaging center where you pay yet again for the chest x-rays. And then you have to go and collect all your results and then carry them back to the Dr. And someone who has never been to the Dr in their life, never mind had all these tests done, was supposed to be able to navigate this system? NO WAY. So, we had Stella go to a private clinic -- only to find out that it was the same system there. Except it was faster, and more expensive. But at least it was all in the same building! Stella's results were all normal.

I thought it would be a good idea if we were to get Stella and Ben this "National Health Insurance Scheme" that had been publicized. It is basically free health insurance...only it cost 230,000 cedis/year (about US $25). The idea is that once you are registered, you can go to the hospital or clinic and see Drs and not have to pay. I was surprised that neither Stella nor Ben had any interest. They thought I was crazy! They told me that they never got sick. But I also know that here, people don't go to the Dr because they can't afford it. I wasn't going to MAKE Ben do it, but I did insist that Stella register for it (at our expense, of course) since she would be in the house, in close contact with Chloe and helping in meal preparation, etc. I didn't want her to be afraid of going to the clinic to get medical attention because she wouldn't be able to afford it!

Stella was registered on the 23rd of January at the 37th Military Hospital. They said it might be until March when she gets her card. I was flabbergasted. Neither Stella nor Ben seemed at all phased by this ridiculously lengthy waiting period. I was told that we would be called when the card was ready. Brent and I left for the States at the end of February. No call was received. We returned at the end of March. Still, no call was received. Carol, Brent's mom, came and went, and still, no call was received. And then Stella started behaving oddly...