it's the home strech

One week from today I will be boarding a plane to London. From there, I will be AMERICA bound.

It's exciting, it's sad, it's crazy, and it's coming very soon.

A few weeks ago I was freaking out about leaving. I couldn't imagine saying goodbye to a place that has come to mean so much to me.

Somehow, I feel ready. I know it will be hard. I know that. But, as Ghanaians say, it's coming. I have to face the reality; I have to realize that life is moving, ever-changing, and I can't make time stand still.

I have had the most incredible past few weeks. I have been living my life here in Ghana, here in Accra. I haven't traveled since we went to Benin, and this has allowed me significant time in Kissemahn, around ISH, around Legon, and in Accra. I've been to poetry readings, I've sang "Superfreak" at karaoke night with Rachel, I've been to the beach, I've shopped at the market, I've taken my finals, I've shown the kids how to play field hockey, I've been to a Ghanaian mass service, I've gone out dancing, and I've eaten way too much banku.

I have one week left, and I have no regrets. That's the best way to be, I think.

Here are some photos from the past few weeks. I wanted to add plenty more, but with sketchy internet I suppose these will suffice.

Peace and love.

Last day of lecture in Social Welfare & Social Policy

Sports Day at Kissemahn

Obrunis practicing for the traditional dance final : )

Kissemahn returns to the beach!

Football

Sunset at home (ISH--International Students Hostel)

Hope Does Not Disappoint Us

It’s funny how you can literally feel hope leaving your body.

Your body tenses up. You want nothing more than to retreat into a state of apathy. You sigh. You feel utterly helpless.

It seems easier to turn away and create some distance from the situation. Scratch that.

It is easier.

Giving up though has never been an option for me.

Last week, with everything happening with the kids at Kissemahn, I was exhausted. I was so drained, and just so tired. I wanted desperately to understand the situation better, to know perfectly well what we could do to help, and more than anything, I wanted the kids to be okay.

When you realize your own limitations though, it’s hard not to want to remove yourself entirely. I almost reached that point. I was on the edge of wanting to call it quits; I was thinking that there was NOTHING I could do to help. I figured that this was above and beyond my understanding and that being the hero of this situation was not only grossly off the mark, but quite frankly, inappropriate. How dare we come into a community assuming we have the answers, assuming we could make things right.

Much of this, I believe is right. I still believe that this is beyond my understanding and that we can’t be the heroes and end all of the pain in this community. It realistically just can’t happen.

So, I prayed. A lot.

I think I got my answer today, as Rachel and I had some quiet meditation in the courtyard of our hostel. I found a little piece of affirmation. I reflected on the past week I had at Kissemahn—making a solar system with the kids, spending time with Rukia, walking around Christian Village, and teaching, really teaching—and realized that the last thing I can do, or want to do, is to retreat away from this community. Yes, I want the community to work on solving these serious issues, even seeking our help when appropriate, but the best thing that WE can do is to just continue to support these kids. Even more than that, support them by believing. We have to believe that problems like this may never fully disappear, but that with hope God will provide. It’s not simple. But, in some ways, it kind of is.

Hope does not disappoint us.

I read this from Romans 5:1-5 and made this my prayer today.

When the girls from Kissemahn came over today—Gloria, Akos, Rukia, Maame, Margaret, and Sala—I repeated this in my head. Hope does not disappoint us. Today, we painted the girls’ nails, danced to our favorite Ghanaian music, ate a ridiculous amount of jollof, chicken, and egg at the night market, let the girls shower at our hostel, and tried to chat with the girls about boys. We tried to gauge an understanding about what they know about boys and babies, just to see if they even understand that rape is a bad thing. We made a little progress, not very much in the grand scheme of things, but it’s the first step in trying to help these girls, I think. We came back after taking the girls back to their homes and I was just so tired.

But, I was hopeful, which means a lot to me these days.

I am hopeful that the girls will be okay, I am hopeful that the girls will one day be educated and can do big things in their lives, and I am hopeful that these girls will one day understand how loved and wonderful they are. Yes, tonight I will go to bed hopeful, a feeling I have been missing and needing this entire week.

Hope does not disappoint us.

It’s true. I know it’s true because I have lived that while I have been in Ghana. I came to this country, hoping to have my eyes opened, hoping to understand a totally different way of living, and hoping to embrace this journey as much as I could. Everything has been exceeded. I came to Ghana, carrying only 2 suitcases and a backpack, with lots of questions, assumptions, and worry. Here I am, with a month left to go, realizing that I am not that same girl who stepped off that plane into the intense and humid African heat. It’s a good thing, really. I have gotten used to everything here, and with that, comes change. The weird things that I found the first month or so here are just a part of everyday life. I say “no shakin”, I snap my fingers with the other person when greeting someone with a handshake, I run even more late to things and never worry because there seems to be an unspoken adherence to “Ghana time”, and I will even test my Twi abilities with people in the market by speaking one of my four go-to phrases. You know, your basic “Ete sen?” (how are you?) or “Medasse” (Thank you). I’m not very good, but I will certainly try.

More so though, I have spent a lot of time thinking about why I do things I do, and why I want to do the things I do later in my life. I think about what really matters, honestly. I think about the painful things I have witnessed, and wonder if such a thing as justice really does exist. I question what I have spent my entire life believing in. I try and understand more about the place I come from, a place that I think I have come to understand a little better since being away. I don’t know, but being here in Africa has encouraged me to ask the hard, difficult, painful questions. I don’t really have a lot of answers, at least fully developed answers, but when I reflect on being in Africa months and years from now, who knows what I might find.

Yes, in many ways, this place has become a home to me. Catching tro-tros, eating mango, sitting in the hostel for hours talking to my friends, and living without air conditioning has become a part of the routine here. It’s become comfortable. I hoped for that when I stepped on the plane to leave Denver back in January, a few short days after turning 21. I hoped to find a home. I did.

Hope does not disappoint us.

Rukia playing field hockey

Hanging with the kids, getting ready to watch The Lion King

Kissemahn--Salem, Gosway, and Forgive

Gosway

Red, Gold, Green, Ghana Colors

akwaaba

Ghana is so different from any place I’ve ever been before.


One man has a monkey on a leash in his front yard.

It’s developing, so much so that you will see BMW’s and Lexus’s on the same road that you see women selling their goods so they can get by. Ghana time is calm and easy, and yet around the University, especially by the main road, things seem to move so quickly.

Maybe that’s just me, and maybe it’s the situation.

I am in a totally new place, and it can be overwhelming to absorb it all at once.

When you come to the University you enter the main gate. When we came the first night by way of a bus, the campus didn’t seem to stretch on too much. Now that we are walking everywhere it is incredible how large it is! The school seems like its own city—complete with salons, restaurants, and markets. The night market right near our hostel is a cool place to check out in the evenings, and the other day we spent some time at a market known as the bush canteen. The bush canteen is so cool. You take this narrow path to get in, and once you reach the market there are little shops everywhere where you can get adapters, toothpaste, toiletries, and anything a college student could ever need. It’s a tight space, people are everywhere, and the smell of heat and cooked food permeates the air.

To get to any building that I will actually take a class in will take at least 30 to 35 minutes! A big change from Hendrix where if I walk fast enough I can get to anywhere in a little over 5 minutes.

We went to my favorite part of campus today. You walk up this steep hill, passed the homes of the professors, around the registry, toward an open area full of trees, bushes, and colors. You have the best view of Accra around up in this place on campus. The view is spectacular, and I liked it the moment we saw it because it is devoid of noise, crowded streets, and tons of people. As much as I love being around lots of people near the main part of campus, it is nice to find a little place to get away.

I’ve been here 48 hours and I find that insane. It seems like I’ve been a student here for weeks. I’m enjoying it so much, but admittedly, am having a pretty difficult time right now. Today was just one of those days where I think the flight finally caught up with me and I began to really realize what I am doing. I am in Ghana. For 4 months. I am without many of the luxuries I have at home, I am away from all of my family, and I miss my friends quite a bit. I am homesick. More so though, I think I’ve become a little scared.

Scared of how I can adjust.

Scared that maybe 4 months is too long.

I am praying about it though, and it is helping. I am really grateful to be here. I am happy to be here with Rachel, to have good conversations with the other international kids, to meet new people, and to experience something that only comes along once in a lifetime.

I expected to have some challenges, so as they come, I know it comes with the territory. I'm in Africa, and though it may be hard at times, I am in Africa. It's amazing, it's beautiful, and I can't stop thinking of all the opportunities I have here. And, it's only been 2 days. This is where I am supposed to be.