Pay it Forward

I am too excited to sleep. My dad is coming tomorrow!

I remember thinking just over 8 weeks ago that I wanted my family to come right then and there. I wanted familiarity, I wanted my safety net. I was worried, wondering if I could manage everything. I was scared, honestly. I experienced so much emotional, mental, and spiritual overload in the first few days and weeks that I didn't know what to do.

I made it through these past two months now feeling a little lighter (I've managed to lose a couple of pounds!), a bit braver, and quite a bit changed. I am not the same person that arrived in Ghana just a couple months ago. And yet, I still have about 2 months left here, so there certainly is more change to come, more experiences to have.

 Luckily, the next week will be spent with my dad, showing him the ropes around Ghana. Of course, I am still learning and discovering everything about Ghana myself, so it will be an adventure that we can have together. I think he's going to love it here. I really do. I've been telling him to prepare to not be prepared—it's true! Ghana is just unlike anything you can really expect.

At 9:30 pm he will be touching down at the Kokota International Airport in Accra. We will spend the first couple of days in Legon. Unfortunately, I have to go to my African American Literature class on Monday to give a presentation, but I certainly plan on skipping my classes for the rest of the week. On Monday, after my class, we will probably have a bite to eat at the night market, and then head to the school in Kissemahn! It's been a very special place to me while I have been here, so I really want him to see it. He is bringing school supplies from a school drive he did at Overland High School, and boy, we sure need it. After meeting the kids and seeing the school, we will probably hit up the only Irish Pub in Ghana, because, well my dad loves Irish Pubs. Who doesn't? We will then be traveling the rest of the week! We will split our time between Cape Coast, Elmina, and Takoradi—all in the Southern part of Ghana. We'll spend the last couple days of his time here around Accra, visiting various markets, and important places that you have to see before leaving. I am just so thankful that my dad can come here and visit. It's a place, an experience, that can't really be encapsulated by words alone, so for him to be able to come and see for himself, I feel blessed.
I've been feeling blessed a lot lately. This week was just such a good week here. More than that though, I think after last weekend, I can't help but be thankful and appreciative for all the good around me. I've seen lots of brokenness, lots of hardship, and I have cried many tears. But there is good too. There really is.

 We went to Togo last weekend. Rachel, Chrissy, and myself.

 Our trip was rather crazy and epic...I can't even begin to describe the chaos involved in us getting there! We started planning the trip weeks ago, with the intention of going into Benin to see a national park with big cats (lions, cheetahs, etc.) but we didn't really have the time for it and I couldn't really miss class. So, we decided to stay at a monastery and convent in the mountains of Togo...only Togo had elections a couple weeks ago and riots broke out. The problem was that we needed to renew our visas for Ghana, and we missed the deadline to do it through the embassy, so we HAD to leave the country to get it updated. So, some of my friends made other arrangements, like going to the capital of Togo where the riots were taking place, but we decided against this. We just didn't think it was worth the risk, and decided to enter Togo from the Ho (a safer area) and immediately come back into Ghana once we got our stamp.

Getting to Ho was an adventure in itself—especially since we wanted to see a beading factory on the way there. We had a few wrong tros, a miscommunication taking us to the annex of the factory, and trouble catching a tro when we found ourselves on a long stretch of road and not much else, but we did make it to Ho relatively unscathed.

The man who helped us catch a tro when we were in the middle of nowhere!

 When we got to Ho, we found a 4 x 4 that was going to Kpalime, a town in Togo, and we got our tickets! I chuckled to myself and wondered about why on Earth we would need a 4 x 4 to cross the border. We certainly found out later. We would be crossing the border in a mountainous area, complete with pot-holes, and rain-storms too. Yes, a 4 x 4 was absolutely necessary to cross the border from Ho to Kpalime.

View from the 4x4

Unfortunately, after we loaded into the 4 x 4 we were told we couldn't leave until the whole car was filled. At this point it was around 2:30 and we were the only ones in the car. We ultimately ended up waiting around 2 and 1/2 hours and finally left at 5:00 for Togo. We were pretty much freaking out at this point---we thought that surely it was going to get dark, and should have we waited until the next day to cross the border? It was already raining...and getting dark...but we decided to keep going. I, just like Chrissy and Rachel, seemed to experience every emotion you can experience in the time that we waited. I went from happy, to anxious, to scared, to irritable, to antsy, to apathetic, to delirious. Literally, we felt it all just waiting for that car to fill.
 
Eventually, we reached a checkpoint with Ghana Immigration. Right away, we felt relief as we expected this to be the border. As far as we were concerned, we would just hop on in, get our visas stamped and renewed and head back to Ho all before dark. Wrong. We couldn't get the stamp until we actually went to Togo. Dismayed, and realizing we would have to spend the night in Togo, not Ghana, we were scared. Especially when we loaded back in the car, with no lights on the side of the road, headed to the border in the dark. Togo is beautiful, but in the night you feel like you are trapped within the canopy of the forestry. I felt vulnerable, trapped, and so nervous. So nervous, that I couldn't even verbalize my emotions. I just sat there, watching the darkness close in around us, holding onto Rachel's hand when I could, just to know she was there too. Our program director told us to get our stamp from Togo and then get back to Ghana...and yet, here we were doing two things we didn't want to happen: we were traveling at night and staying in Togo. We reached the border, and they had us and one other passenger sit at a bench. There wasn't any electricity, only a couple small lanterns. The border officials wore no outfit or uniform to signal authority; rather they waved around flashlights in our faces, speaking French. The time seemed to go so slowly when we were waiting for approval to enter the country, but eventually it happened. We got back in the car and headed into the country, unsure of what to expect.

When we had to get out at another checkpoint in Togo, we huddled close together trying to take in everything that was going on. All of the doors in the car were open, and it was being thoroughly checked through, likely to be sure that the driver wasn't trafficking anything into Togo. It was at this moment that one of the other passengers in the car greeted us and told us to stick with him. He had been warm to us earlier in the day when we were waiting, and he assured us that he would help us and I instinctively trusted him. Even from the beginning of this journey, I could feel the positive vibes from him. This man, Theo, told us not to go to a hotel with the driver (who told us to go with him and we could leave with him in the morning), and instead to follow him, as he would arrange our stay at another hotel for us. Not only did he do this, but he negotiated our stay, translated for us, checked our room for us to make sure it was okay, and then proceeded to make sure we were fed for the night. He helped us get motorbike taxis (yes, like a motorcycle!) and led us to eat dinner at one of the hotspots in town. Theo is originally from Kpalime, and like he would say, "this is my town!" We ate fufuo with him, had a delicious beverage called Cocktail de Fruit, and talked about life. Theo shared of his experience in Australia—he was unable to make it through customs, when a total stranger helped him. He reached out to Theo, making it possible for him to get around. He said he vowed to do the same whenever somebody needed help, and that this is what he believes humanity should be all about. It's really that simple. Pay it forward. That's what he subscribes to, and it was so wonderful to meet someone who wanted to help just to help. No strings attached. Just love. It was then that I could literally FEEL prayers from around the world...I think he was the answer to our prayers. And, it didn't even stop there.

We spent the night back at our hotel, overjoyed, overwhelmed, and ready for bed. Our hotel room was more than enough for us, as we paid a good price for a comfortable triple room. We even had a fan, and access to toilets that flush, very much a luxury in this part of the world. Theo came around 7:00 to take us to breakfast. We were expecting to eat and talk over a meal at a nearby restaurant. No, in fact, he led us on a short walk to his home where he had breakfast ready for us to eat. Yes, he literally opened the doors to his home so that we would feel safe and comfortable. Over bread and coffee, he talked eloquently about Jesus, about his view of life, and how we must be free from fear. He is a Reverend, and you can tell. He genuinely has a heart of God, and I honestly felt like I was his daughter for those few hours. It was Sunday morning, and we may not have entered an official house of worship, but by all means we had church. Theo's wisdom, love, and faith engulfed me like a lingering hug from someone you love dearly, and I felt so welcome, so loved, and so safe. This man was taking care of us. It was incredible.

Our hotel room in Togo

The driver from the night before had promised to take us back, but as it turns out, was going to cheat us by charging us over 35 dollars. Theo wouldn't have that, and after a failed attempt to try and arrange a bus ride for us at the station in Kpalime, he decided he would take us back to Ho himself. He told us in the car that people trying to cheat us are representing Togo badly, and that he wanted us to know the good people of Africa. He went out of his way and got motorbikes for all of us again, took us to the border, and then arranged for a safe car to take us the rest of the way. We then got to Ho, got a bus to Accra, and made it home safely. Riding on the motorbikes back to the border was probably the moment I could absolutely feel myself feeling restored again. The previous week had been difficult, and then to experience everything from the night before…I had every reason to feel utterly drained. But, then to meet this man, who for no reason other than love decided to help us, made me realize that even amidst struggles, pain, and difficulties, there are angels. Theo, I believe in my heart, was an angel. I can't accurately express what I felt that night as we crossed over the border into Togo. We may not have encountered any imminent danger, but by us three young white girls crossing the border into a country experiencing political instability—complete with riots—we were in a very susceptible situation. Without Theo, who knows what would have happened. None of speak French; none of us knew what we would do once we got into Togo. Theo was our ambassador, our representative, our angel.

Theo showing us around his neighborhood

When we arrived back home last weekend, I was spent. I was tired, in disbelief that we met Theo, and also so happy to be back in Legon. It's a good feeling to love coming home. It's even better that Legon, and ISH (International Students Hostel) feels like home now to me. As we recounted the story to our friends, it was hard to really describe what Theo did for us. Because ultimately, it was a lot more than arranging a place for us to stay, feeding us, and helping us get around. He exuded a strong presence of protection, and I knew I was in good hands. More than that, he demonstrated a good lesson of what we should all be for each other. We should all be motivated to pay it forward. We should all feel inclined to help someone in need, if only because someone has done the same for us. It's good to be helped, you know. And it's good to pass that along to your friends, your family, but especially a stranger in need. You never know what someone could be fighting, what someone could be going through. I am going to pay it forward. After meeting Theo, and receiving the love he had to give, I know how meaningful it can be. I have met a few angels in my life. One of them lives in Togo, and I know that everything that happened last weekend was meant to happen, so we could meet him.

:)

I believe that, I know that, and even a week later, I am still in awe about the love one human shared with us on a dark, stormy night on the border of Ghana and Togo.

My heart is all over the world tonight

Let your face shine on your servant; save me in your unfailing love. Psalm 31: 16

We are all feeling it here in Ghana.

We are all just finding this week a little difficult.

I can't exactly pinpoint why it's been especially hard this week. I can't tell you why I feel the way I do. It's just been hard.

I wouldn't say I am homesick. I mean, I do miss my home. I miss my family, I miss my friends, and I miss America. But, by no means am I ready to go home. I think because I am officially half way through this experience, the "honeymoon" period is over, and I am starting to fully adjust to living here. I want to fully embrace that, but it's hard to be vulnerable and attach myself here when I know it's temporary. I think I might be afraid too, because I know I'm attached, and I'm afraid of how it will feel to leave.

But you know what?

I just can't be afraid. I can't keep how I feel inside, because that just isn't me. I've always worn my heart on my sleeve, and I don't want to miss on being vulnerable because I'm scared. There is just so much more to living in Ghana than that.

Maybe this week has been hard because the emotion is finally catching up with me.

I'm burnt, I'm worried about the Kissemahn kids, I am disappointed that we can't spend time in Togo because of the riots, I want nothing more than a hot cup of coffee, I am frustrated with how my classes have been going, and I wish to see the faces of people I love. I've been more negative this week than I usually ever am. I had to end class in Kissemahn early on Tuesday because I was practically in tears. I was teaching all alone, the kids were fighting, and I felt like it was completely out of control. I felt like a failure, here I was, trying to teach, and in over 2 hours I barely helped the kids learn anything at all. I try so hard to find the positive in everything. Yet, this week I felt only exasperated, anxious, and stressed by the end of the week. It hasn't been a good feeling, and I absolutely dislike negativity. It's an emotion that sucks you in so easily and then proceeds to take you absolutely nowhere. Negativity is not what I, nor anybody else needs right now.

This is Africa. And that's a beautiful thing.

It hit me today after we were leaving the Accra mall and attempting to catch a tro back home to Legon. We looked ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. The mates usually scream out the window where they are headed, but instead today they barely muttered the direction of their tro. That left me, Taylor, and Rachel running around like idiots. It took us well over 30 minutes to catch one home, and we were laughing the whole time. It was what I needed. A moment to ground me. To help me relax. After all, this is Ghana. At the end of the day, I can't have what I want. Nor do I need what I want. I am here to experience this place, this wonderful country.

After this, and talking to my best friend over skype last night I have been feeling better today. No, I'm not leaping for joy. But that's okay. I've realized I don't have to be shouting, laughing loudly, and being obnoxious to be happy. I can be content. I can be working through the challenges, doing the best I can, and still be happy.

I've taken a leap already, just by coming here. I thought about this earlier in the week at Kokrobite Beach. The sand, the people, the sun, it was just a genuinely pretty day. I felt so lucky, and I knew, somehow, that I was going to be challenged the upcoming week. I was.

Now, it's about what I do with that. I can certainly be negative and allow that to seep deeply into this experience. Or, I can learn from it, embrace it, and take every moment of being in Ghana as a gift. Few people get an opportunity like this. I took the jump. And it's okay if I fall. I can get right back up.

Michelle told me,

"That peace is God, and I know it is still inside of you, and I know it is SO hard to feel God sometimes. I know he feels SO far away sometimes and you wonder how you can ever pray or feel close again, but I just want you to know that he is inside of you and he's not going anywhere and he's with you and he's always been with you and every step you take in Ghana he is in your heart."

Thank you for being by my side. Thank you to my friends, my family, to everyone for just loving me. I know I'm going to be okay.

Sunshine in Africa

I’m finally home.

The last few days have been incredibly wonderful, and incredibly exhausting at the same time.

I just put on some of my country tunes to relax, water in the boiling pot to drink, and of course my fan on so I can get some cool air in my room.

Today, a group of my friends and I went to Independence Square to celebrate March 6—Ghana’s Independence Day! Today was the 53rd anniversary, and I felt honored to be celebrating with hundreds and hundreds of Ghanaians in Accra. I even got to see the President arrive in his motorcade and wave to everyone attending the march. Independence Day wasn’t as big as of a deal as I thought it would be, but still, watching the military forces and school children enter the square with precise marching movements was fascinating. After the ceremony, we spent some time in town at a few markets, and I came back home totally spent. Not only was I tired from a day of intense heat and lots of walking, but I only got 3 hours of sleep from the night before! Theresa, Chrissy, Lindy, Karlie, Taylor, Rachel, Patrick, and I crammed into Theresa’s room last night for an epic sleepover! We played apples to apples among other things and had a really fun time. I feel so grateful to have the friends I have here—I think there is a strong mutual understanding that we all have each other’s backs, and that we will all take care of each other while we are abroad here in Ghana.

Still, no other day this weekend, rather, no other day during my time in Ghana, or quite possibly my life was quite like Friday.

Friday was absolutely what life should be about.

We—the Kissemahn school volunteers/teachers—got to take the kids to the beach.

It sounds like a field trip, right?

And well, it was. Except, most of these kids LIVE 30 minutes away from the beach had never been before. It was a lot more than a field trip.

We arrived at Kissemahn close to 10:00 am. As we turned the corner to where we were to meet all of the kids, I outwardly gasped at the amount of kids I saw waiting on Kwame’s porch. I was thinking 15 kids would show up. 20 tops. Oh no, we had 37 kids, wearing the best clothes that they own, ready for the beach. I knew it was going to be a good time.

Kwame, the director of the school program, had a friend charter a tro tro bus for us. It was big and orange, and somehow, we managed to squeeze in over 40 of us! That is certainly the most amount of people I have ever been on a tro tro with. Before we left though, I went to one of the children’s homes to make sure it was okay with his parents that he came to the beach. Kwayze shyly brought me to his mother and she seemed excited about the opportunity for Kwayze to see the beach. They invited me into their home, and as I waited on a bench, Kwayze’s mother had him bathe, eat lunch, and put on his nice jean outfit, likely the nicest outfit he owns. It touched my heart. Once he was ready we quickly ran back to the tro tro bus—it was time to go!

We sang songs the whole way to the beach. My favorite, no question, is a song we sing with the kids almost every day. It goes like this:

When the sun shines in Africa

Beautiful people in Africa

Sunshine in Africa

Move around in Africa

Sunshine in Africa

Beautiful people in Africa

We give thanks to the Lord of Mighty.

We had an original plan of going to a free beach, but due to the beach being primarily rocks against the rushing ocean, we opted for Labadi Beach, which by the grace of some kind-hearted people, allowed all of the kids to get in free, and only the adults had to pay 1 cedi.

I was holding the hands of so many beautiful children as we approached the beach. One girl, Favor, looked up at me and asked if the pond nearby was the beach. I could only smile and assure her, “Just you wait, it’s so much better.”

Once they could see the ocean grazing along the sandy beach the looks in their eyes filled with utter excitement, happiness, and curiosity. They screamed and yelled as we got closer, running into the water for the first time. Eventually, many of the kids just took off their clothes and jumped in without any hesitation. They played in the sand, they screamed the entire day, and there was so much laughter. It was perfect. I couldn’t believe I was witnessing something so pure, a moment where so many kids could just be kids. They were happy. Those few hours at the beach, I am sure, are some of my most treasured memories already. Friday, was one of the most moving, incredible, and just great days that I have ever lived.

I wish I could express the emotions of that day better. But, the expressions of these children, the sounds of laughter, and joy that we all felt is really just completely beyond words.

 

Hear Us from Heaven

My tummy is feeling a little weak right now, and for once I am confident that my malaria medicine is not the culprit.

Rather, I think my tummy is hurting due to my own lack of self-discipline. After doing some touring around Accra today at various museums (the National Museum and the W.E.B. Dubois Memorial Center), we stopped for a midday meal at Maxmart. Let me explain to you, Maxmart is a very nice store to go to for groceries. It's quite upscale for Ghanaian standards, with groceries costing significantly more than at other places. They also have a coffee shop above the store—something that is also a luxury, so it seems. We went there today and I ordered the following: hummus and pita bread, cheese pie (essentially, similar to a calzone), and a café frappe. Needless to say, my diet has been acquainted with beans, rice, and an occasional dish of banku so this is a lot foreign to my stomach right now. Oh well, so worth it, right?

I just was craving familiar foods, something different from the typical Red-Red, Jollof Rice, and Plantains.

It's kind of been one of those weeks. I just miss America.

I got to play field hockey this week! It was wonderful. No doubt about it. The mosquitoes attacked my legs since they hang out in the grass during the day, but ultimately I was just happy to have a stick in my hand again. Playing on the actual team is still up in the air, and I would be surprised if it actually happens, but they did check me out a stick that I can play with by myself until then. Luckily, I met a girl who plays hockey at Swarthmore in PA, so I have a buddy to hit around with! It felt so comfortable to do something I have loved to do for so long, and to be able to do it thousands of miles away from home. Still, as I played on the grassy field, with red dirt sticking to me like glue, I couldn't help but appreciate my team back home even more. I have always loved being able to play on such a fun and close-knit team, but being here has opened my eyes to how important that support system has been for me at college. Hendrix field hockey is such an important part of my college experience, and I think being away from that has made that more apparent.

Last night we went to a sports bar in Accra, Champ's, for Friday night Karaoke. I was so ready for a night out—we have been traveling practically every weekend since getting into Ghana, so it was nice to stick around town. Not to mention, I spent 6 hours with Lindy on Friday getting our hair done. Yes, it's true; I got a WEAVE in my hair. It's a different look mind you, but it is so much fun. After I put on a cute black dress, with my long, new braids, I knew that karaoke was exactly what I needed for a Friday night out on the town. The minute you walk into Champ's it's almost like being back in America again! There are sports channels playing on flat screens everywhere, a crowded bar, and tables to order some food (even Tex Mex!). I was enthralled at the chance to even watch a sport other than soccer for awhile. We watched rugby—France vs. England—and chatted for awhile awaiting the chance to sing some good ole American tunes. The minute the song book came around I knew there was really no other choice of song for me to sing. I mean, hello, how could I not sing Sweet Home Alabama? I got up on stage awhile later and tried to be as good as of entertainer as possible. I think what made it even better was that following my rendition of the Lynyrd Skynyrd classic, more of our group got on stage to accompany Mitch as he sang Take Me Home, Country Roads. We must have looked like crazy country lovin' American folk…oh wait, I kind of am…so it all works out J. My night was filled with singing, meeting people from South Africa, England, Australia, and Ghana, and enjoying time with my friends—a nice reminder of how much I love dancing, eating, and karaoke-ing with my friends at home. I think there's a great chance that from living in Ghana for 5 months, I am going to find a greater sense of appreciation for my life as a whole, especially when I return home. Already, I am balancing learning a new culture, with sharing my own, and thus growing to understand what beautiful blessings I have in my life. It's overwhelming at times, but very much an important part of this whole experience.

In addition to missing parts of home more this week than before, it's also been emotionally challenging as I have had to really dig deep in trying to understand how I am feeling. At bible study, before we began to reflect as a group, we meditated for 20 minutes. In those 20 minutes, surrounded by the soft noises of the breeze in the wind, and the hum of the bugs in the grass, something finally hit me, something that I had not been ready to face before. In the last couple weeks of being here, for whatever reason, I feel like I have "numbed" myself to the brokenness around me. It's hard to say why or how, but I think deep in my heart, I have been overwhelmed by the poverty, by the hunger, by the brokenness. Never in my life have I struggled with empathy. Never before have I not tried to really feel the suffering of others. After all, as a Christian, isn't that what following Jesus is all about? Yet, here I was in Africa, and struggling to feel the pain around me. I think I am afraid for how much I might really feel it. For how much it might break my heart. I know I need to be vulnerable. But, I guess it's just harder to let go. It's much harder than I ever thought it would be.

God brings things into your life at just the right moments. I needed a wake-up call.

On Thursday, I got one.

I was volunteering at Kissemahn, like I do every Thursdays, and things were going surprisingly well. Even amid the normal chaos of yelling, fighting, and noise there were genuine moments of learning. I really believe there was. We were getting ready to close for the day when one of the young girls, Precious, around the age of 7 showed us her back. On her back were several lashes that looked excruciatingly painful. They were on her legs too, some that looked fresh, and some that looked like they had been healing for awhile. What I found even harder to face was hearing her cries. It was time to go home, and this darling child did not want to go home, for the fear of being beaten. As I held her and felt her sobs exit her small body, I had to pray for control as to not break down right then and there. We walked her home, myself along with 2 other volunteers, and the director of Mauhvio's Outreach, to talk with her mother. As Kwame, our director, talked with her mother I felt rather uncomfortable watching a mother being told not to beat her child. I don't agree with putting any harm on a child, but at the same time, I am 21 years old. I am still trying to understand this different culture, a culture that doesn't look down upon beating in the same way America does. There isn't a social services program, these things happen. And, while I don't agree with them, I also have a limited role to play, especially when telling a mother how to treat her child. The only thing I could really do was just love this child. And, I was able to do that. I held her hand, squeezing it the whole way to her house, praying that she would know love in this world. I can't exactly change all of my emotions in understanding the immense poverty here in just one moment, but I can confront the feelings I have been facing. I have been feeling numb to the brokenness here in Ghana, but maybe that's because I have been thinking about it on such a large scale. Because, in that small moment, I did feel Precious' pain. I could see her hurt. And, I wanted more than anything just to love her. I can't change the world. I can't eliminate poverty.

But, I can love.

Tomorrow I am going to church for the first time since being in Ghana. It couldn't have come at a better time. My eyes are getting heavy, it is time to sleep. For now, my prayer is from a song I hold dear to my heart:

Open the blind eyes

Unlock the deaf ears

Come to your people

As we draw near

Hear us from Heaven

Touch our generation

We are your people

Crying out in desperation

The Way I See It #21

When you purchase a warm, delectable cup of coffee from Starbucks, there are often little somethings spewed across the cup.

 They are called "The Way I See It," and whenever I read them, they always bring a smile to my face. No matter what it says, it always provokes some thought about this world, about life, and maybe even just about coffee. These little quotes, sayings, and proverbs are just one of many reasons why I thoroughly enjoy Starbucks coffee. I am in Legon, Ghana—far away from a nearby Starbucks. I am away from Venti Chai Lattes, away from Blended Ice Tea Lemonades, and away from Starbucks espresso.

 Yet, I do have a little piece of Starbucks with me.

 It's a little piece of home, reminding me of why I am here.

 When Michelle and I took down our decorations from our room this past fall we laughed and commiserated at our pictures and even our "Jesus Loves Feminists" sign. Michelle had put up part of a coffee cup that she had saved, one particular The Way I See It—and before putting back with her pile of stuff she told me that I should have it. I read it over again and smiled and gratefully accepted it. I figured that these words of wisdom may just come in handy for my experience over here in Ghana.

 Next to my pictures that always remind me of the amazing support system around me, to the right of a note I have from a special child I have tutored in Menifee, Arkansas, and directly above my well worn and hearty desk hangs this piece of a Starbucks coffee cup. It reads:

 People need to see that,
Far from being an obstacle,
The world's diversity
Of languages, religions, and
Traditions is a great treasure,
Affording us precious
Opportunities to recognize
Ourselves in others.
Youssou N'Dour (Musician)

 Up to this point, I couldn't really find better words to describe what this experience has been like for me.
Every day, I find something new, something different, and it is so utterly invigorating.
And yet, the diversity of this culture, of the traditions, has still afforded me the chance to understand myself, and my own life experience.

 Around town, especially around the market, you will often see mothers carrying their children on their back using intricate fabric to hold them up. They take them everywhere and you can see the bond right away. Usually the child has their head leaning on their mother's back, maybe they are sleeping, and they are connected together. It's a moving thing to see, a sight that I always am marveled by. When I see this, I am reminded of my own family. Everyone takes care of each other. Maybe my mom has never carried me on her back with colorful fabric holding me in, but she has looked out for me and kept me safe for my entire life. It's different, yes, but at some level, it's also the same.

 Sometimes even talking with people here proves to be difficult. Yes, English is the official language, but there are about 50 other languages that are spoken, just in Ghana. Imagine all of Africa. At Mauhvio's Outreach Program (the school I have been teaching at) we have been working with the kids to help them with their English. It's been an experience; one that has opened my eyes to what I see myself doing with my life a few years down the road. During our lunch break, we take some of the kids back to their homes. One day we crossed the street into an area called Christian Village to take Belinda and Benedicta to their mother, and I was taken aback by how kind and welcoming their family was to me. And yet, she wasn't even speaking a language that I could understand. In Kissemahn, many of the Ghanaians speak Ewe, while at school in Legon we are being taught Twi. Talk about lost in translation—there I was trying to speak the very bare minimum of Twi that I knew, and they don't even speak that language. You can imagine the looks I got from the girls' mother and the rest of the family. Still, it didn't really matter to them that I couldn't speak their language; they were more concerned with the fact that me, a white girl, brought their girls back safely. The mother, Polina, told me she would look forward to seeing me again and she appreciated my kindness. One of the younger girls translated this for me, and it made me smile. It made me grateful for that moment, for the language barriers, because ultimately, it truly was an opportunity to recognize myself, and the beauty that differences provide.

 It's been hard catching tro tros. It's been difficult understanding how relationships work over here. It's been challenging getting to know Ghanaians. It's been interesting in understanding how Ghanaians worship and pray.

 But, it's been a great opportunity; far from an obstacle, but rather a "great treasure" that I can't even believe I have the chance to experience. This past week I have continued to ask myself,

 "Why am I here?"
"How did I end up here, in Ghana, of all places?"
"Do I really deserve this experience?"

 I don't have the answers yet, but I am just so so grateful to be living in Ghana. I have wanted to come here since freshman year. It's overwhelming sometimes, just to fully realize that yes, I am here.

 Like The Way I See It #21 says, this diversity that I am immersed in, is a gift. A beautiful, incredible gift. And for that, I am grateful.

Give us clean hands, give us pure hearts

The still of night took me by surprise. There were few places lit, few noises at all. All I could really hear was the breeze blowing softly through the grass outside. Still, I could feel the peacefulness rising up inside of me, and I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I wrote this the morning I woke early to attend a morning service with MPU (Methodist Presbyterian Union). I was unsure of what to expect, but because the service was at 4:30 am, I was ready for anything. The morning worship went peacefully and I realize that in that moment, worshipping with the body of Christ was exactly what I had needed since my arrival in Ghana.

 It even hit me the night before when I was attending a bible study with a bunch of international students. Upon reflecting on that night after bible study I wrote,

 We crammed into a small room and talked about fellowship, Jesus, and the community we are looking for in Ghana. More importantly, we talked about building relationships with those at the night market. No, not going into the night market looking to convert; rather, going to the night market and listening to those providing us with goods. We want to build relationships; we want to treat the workers in the night market as friends and come to know them as our brothers and sisters. This makes me full of excitement—this is what fellowship is all about—just loving one another. This is what Jesus is all about.

 It was such a great feeling—to know that I had found a spiritual community here in Ghana. We sang songs at the beginning, introduced each other, read over the Word, and got in smaller groups to pray together. Ever since my plane landed I have been relying on God more than ever before, and it was good to share my heart with other people. This entire adventure is testing me, challenging me, and I can feel myself more and more relying on God. This is good—great even—because it has always been hard for me to follow God's plan for me. Instead, I have often chosen to go my own way, forging my own path, and making my own plans. I have decided that from here on out, I want to allow myself to be more vulnerable. I have already stepped outside my comfort zone so much, but I want to be pushed a little more. I want to follow God, going where He wants me, and to do so, I think I need to put myself out there, and see what happens.

 I am around the right people who will be there every step of the way as this journey unfolds.

I am experiencing a great fellowship of believers, something that is described in Acts as,

 They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts. (Acts 2: 42-46)

 Ghana is very much a Christian nation. Practically every vehicle has a bold display of "God first" or the common symbol meaning "God" embellished on the front of the cars. Many of the people we are meeting are nice, caring, and welcoming. As we intermingle with Ghanaians, and I meet more people from this beautiful country, it is my hope that this fellowship I am lucky to be with does not stick only to each other, but reach out and give thanks to this new environment. Part of being a Christian is to love, and it is important to love our fellow Ghanaians. It might start with listening to a woman at the night market, or maybe smiling at the cab driver, or even striking up conversation with those you pass by on the streets. I don't really have a particular way of envisioning what it looks like, but I know it is possible.

 Let's break bread and share our hearts.

 

Elephants, Warthogs, and Crocodiles, Oh My!

Wild Elephant

My two best buds: Rachel and Rusty the Elephant (I named him!)

Baboons

Making Fufu--a traditional Ghanaian dish

WARTHOGS!!! (a.k.a. Razorbacks!)

Safari

Waterfall

Hammocking

For almost a month now I have been in Africa.

And I've felt it. Adjusting here has been one of the more challenging things I have had to do as of late, and things here are just so very different. People talk differently, act differently, and still more important, live differently. It's been an adventure trying to adjust to Ghanaian culture, an adventure that I feel so blessed and grateful to have.

Yet, even with all this adjustment, with new foods, new people, new everything, I still hadn't really grasped that I was in AFRICA.

Finally, it really, truly, hit me this weekend.

Maybe it was the villages we saw alongside the road as we passed by. Watching women pump water from the well, seeing young women carry bowels, buckets, and baskets on their heads, and witnessing these remote communities gathering for a communal meal. These communities were different from what I have seen before on my travels through Ghana, these communities were rural, remote, and what I imagine that most people think of when they think of Africa. There were huts, no signs of electricity, and the wide open spaces of the savannah to bring these communities together.

Maybe it was the 14 hour drive. More specifically, the parts of the drive that were spent on unpaved roads, bumps everywhere, with red dirt flowing by the window.

Maybe it was the bathrooms that we used when we needed to take a bathroom break. Whether using a public bathroom that luxuriously provided toilet paper, or bathrooms that were merely a hole in the ground, or even the side of the road that was used for a make shift bathroom, you really could expect anything.

Maybe it was our morning hike, that moment when we first saw a wild elephant, only feet away from us. I felt the excitement throughout my whole body; here I was, in the habitat of wild elephants.

Maybe it was returning from our hike in Mole, drenched in sweat and dirt, only to find a family of baboons on the doorsteps to our hotel. They were digging through the trashcans, looking for some food, relatively oblivious that they were the objects of our cameras and laughter.

Maybe it was sitting in Amanda's hammock, overlooking the pasture, the trees, and the elephants in the northern part of Ghana. Sitting in this hammock between the trees felt so free, and so perfect. You can only dream of lying in a hammock in such a beautiful place.

Maybe it was visiting the first mosque ever to be built in Ghana (built in the 15^th century), greeting the chief of the village, and getting the full history of this mosque.

Maybe it was having a chance to pound the dough in efforts to make fufu, a staple dish in Ghana, and walking around with the small children to their homes in the village of Lebanga.

Maybe it was our safari, cramming in the 4 x 4 with new friends to see the terrain and go deeper into the national park. We saw a herd of elephants and a family of warthogs, and I didn't think the day could get any better after that moment. I couldn't wait to tell people back in Arkansas that yes, Razorbacks do exist.

Maybe it was coming home to Legon and having a heart to heart with Rachel and then later trying to comfort Evan as he threw up on the bus into a blue bucket that had a hole in it. More so, maybe it was taking him to a hospital over 2 hours away from Accra for him to stay overnight and get treatment for Malaria.

Whatever it was, we pulled up to our hostel and I needed some time alone. I walked to the night market to grab an egg sandwich for dinner. I had planned to go to the Superbowl party at the American Embassy, but I too got a little sick and decided to stay in. I had the room alone and tried to write down everything I was feeling, trying to process the entire weekend. It was by far, my favorite trip, and yet I couldn't shake the notion that something was different. Finally, I went out on my balcony to get some fresh air. As I stood out and looked at the stars, at the market, and at people I realized something had changed this weekend.

I am in Africa. I still have over 3 months here. I have time to travel, to learn the ropes, and to fully adjust to Ghanaian society. This is good, wonderful actually, and I feel so lucky to get this chance. It has been a month, and now I can fully say that I get it. I'm here, and I'm experiencing things that I never thought I would. I'm building a life here, and temporary it may be, it is what I have now. I am enjoying every second. I am trying to soak up every day, and to really experience Ghana.

I have been stuck in my room all day because I am still not feeling very well at all. We took Rachel to the hospital last night but she should be okay, Taylor was admitted this morning, Judith was there last night as well, and Evan has malaria. Despite not feeling well, this has allowed me some extra reflection time—much needed reflection time. As the fan from my ceiling whirls the air around my bedroom, so do my thoughts. I am really beginning to soak this all up, and I like the way that feels.

Our trip to Mole National Park solidified everything for me. I can't really pinpoint that moment; rather it may be a mixture of them all. I am grateful for this weekend. Grateful for friends and long talks with laughter, elephants, sunsets, macaroni and cheese (a nice and welcomed change from our Ghanaian diet), our tour guide on the safari, and grateful for the opportunity to venture around Ghana. Even when things are a little tough or frustrating, we are fully beginning to embrace that.

We just laugh and smile and all yell, This is Africa.