Virgin's story

Caught your attention, did I?

So, you are wondering, who's Virgin?  Jude never mentioned "Virgin" before.

Good catch.  I KNEW everyone was paying attention!

For some desperately-needed comic relief, I'll tell Virgin's story.

George's driver is named Dominic.



Our driver for my visit: Dominic AKA Virgin

 Funny story: When George picked me up in Accra, he introduced me to his driver, Dominic.  As we drove, George kept saying what sounded like "Vegan" when he referred to Dominic or spoke to him.  So there's me, new to Ghana and struggling to understand people, and I'm thinking that George is explaining that Dominic is a vegan. Cool.

Two days later, George and Masodu were joking with Dominic having to "defend his virginity." Masodu, a devout Muslim, was doubled over with laughter and said, "You understand? We are asking him to defend his virginity so we call him 'Virgin.' At this point, Masodu is laughing so hard that tears are streaming down his face.

Hahahahahahahahaha. Joke's on me. Dominic is NOT a vegan. In fact, I've never seen anyone down a beef kebab quite like him.  I wouldn't touch beef in Ghana for any amount of money, but the way.  But back to the story.

I didn't understand about that nickname and didn't want to ask.  And didn't want to know, frankly.

So, now I call him Virgin, too. I don't get it, Virgin knows I don't get it, but everyone else seem to think I do. It's Virgin's and my secret.  He seems to like me anyway, at least most of the time. Our only conflicts come when I try to make Virgin a participant.

Virgin is a driver.  He is a servant, basically. So when he picks us up in the morning, Bea will make him breakfast but he eats outside or in the truck. His job is "driver" not participant. And he seems content with this. Except I feel really bad for Virgin sitting out in the truck all time, so I try to get him involved.

Virgin helped distribute things at the schools by carrying stuff, and then I had him help me distribute to the kids. He seemed to like that, and George seemed to be OK with it. But Virgin's finest hour was definitely at the Weichau Hippo Sanctuary.

Virgin was content to stay in the truck.  He said he didn't like boats or water or care about hippos. He was extremely helpful in locating a clump of bushes where I could...you know...do what had to be done when it needed to be done, but after that, it was clear he was done with being a participant.

Virgin: I'm in the truck.
Me: Oh, come on Virgin. You can't sit out here in the heat for 2 hours. Come on with us and see the hippos with us. I can't believe you've lived in Ghana all your life and never seen them. They're national treasures.
Virgin: I can't swim.
Me: We're not SWIMMING with the hippos, Virgin. Here's a life jacket.  I already paid for you. Let's go.

So off we went. Virgin was happy to be the last one in the boat, since having the three of us already in there steadied it somewhat. He enjoyed most of the trip, except for the leak in the boat, which worried him a lot.
OK, it kind of worried all 4 of us a lot.

On the way back to Wa, Virgin was in a good mood, which is not easy when you're George's driver, by the way. He said he never imagined he would ever go out on the Upper Volta in a boat or touch trees whose roots were in Burkina Faso.

I laughed and said, "And you thought you'd just be driving me around."  We all laughed, including Masodu who again was doubled over with laughter.

Stick with me, Virgin. I'll take you places.