Daughters of the Virgin Eve

Rejuvenated from a weekend of yoga and tae kwon do, we headed out to the police barracks, where Annie's indomitable friend Florence lives with her brother and three children. Climbing the stairs to her third story apartment, we were all glowing with anticipation for our first meeting with the group of adolescent and pre-adolescent girls known as "Daughters of the Virgin Eve." Assembled on Florence's humble balcony, the girls were infinitely precious, composed, and delightful. By far the most professional organization I have ever encountered at this level, from the Presidential welcome to the chaplin's prayer, they were bright, eager, and curious. Most of the discussion centered around the differences in our education systems, growing tense at only one point, when discussing forms of punishment dealt out by teachers. Having spent a year living in the Bahamas, I was more familiar with this cultural difference than my friends, who were unable to conceal their horror at the notion of a teacher beating a child. Clearly uncomfortable with their bold outrage, I tried to dissipate it with a tangential discussion of the physical boundaries imposed by Americans in general. Walking the streets in Accra one can expect to be grabbed at any moment by an eager vendor or admiring gentleman, where this sort of behavior crosses a boundary in our American minds. Overall, the evening was a huge success. Driven (many wanted to be doctors and journalists), articulate (impressing me repeatedly as they described themselves), and confident, the girls were magnetic in their appeal. Florence has clearly been successful in creating model citizens out of these young women, and she has already earned my supreme respect for all that she does, working 6 days a week in various capacities to enrich and protect the lives of women and children in Accra. I can't wait to go back for round two.