inoculation

2 November 2006

I am the only foreigner sitting in a circle with Ghanaians, listening to a pastor preaching passionately on three reasons why bad things happen to good people. Once in a while he asks for an amen, finishing every statement with "Praise the Lord, Amen?" People respond, some with a louder Amen! than others. A lady opens the door of the room we are in, poking in her head with a surprised expression on her face. The pastor, without losing a beat says: "You are welcome, we are sharing the good news - it is for you!" She sheepishly come in and take a seat.

I feel a little out of place, because I am the only person wearing shorts and a baseball cap. We have a fire drill later today so I would only take a shower after that. But I am also actually here to get an inoculation for yellow fever. It is before 8am, and I am sitting in the waiting room of the Tema Port Clinic.

"Can the father in the house close us in prayer?", the pastor asks. A gentleman neatly dressed with a tie sitting next to me rise to his feet and pray. A nurse thanks the pastor for his message, and then says: "Welcome! The Bible says where two or three are gathered there He is in their midst, amen!. Lets give the Lord a clap!!" Everybody claps enthusiastically. Then she gives a 15 minute lecture, starting with yellow fever, then talking about tetanus, and finishing off with AIDS, asking if people knew the ABC for protection against AIDS. She speaks partly English, partly Twi, the local dialect. When she asks if anybody knows what the C stands for, a girl in her twenties answers shyly with a smile, so soft, hardly anybody hears her - 'condom'. The nurse replies loudly, "Yes, if you are planning to go out and play, you need to protect yourself with a condom!"

She finishes her lecture, asking everybody to give an applause to themselves, and everybody claps with the rhythm we used to clap at sports games to encourage our team.

And then chaos breaks out. Most people already registered earlier in the week, and everybody feel they have a valid reason to get their injection first. I sit and observe the shouts and arguments, with the nurse telling four people very bluntly: "You four, you go first!". I try to find out how I can register. I was here earlier in the week, but I was not willing to pay my $14 if I did not get my shot immediately. "Why you did not register when you came the other day? You give me trouble!", the nurse answers, with a look on her face like I am a child who has done something naughty.

She disappears through a door, and after a while comes back and position herself behind a desk, beckoning me to come sit in front of her. I give her my yellow card and 140 000 cedis. She gives me a small card, and tell me: "Go get your injection". I enter into another room, and wait my turn for my injection. After that I sit for another while in the waiting room while the lady register other people. Eventually I get my yellow card back. I thank her as friendly as I can, and as I walk out the room an hour or so later, I say a little prayer:
'Thank you Lord that I only have to do this every ten years!'.