Hello friends! I know it has been a while since I was able to share with you last, so let me take a moment now to pause and say I am sorry. Sharing with you has been one of my great joys while I serve in Africa. Sharing with you has been a source of renewal and mirth amidst an environment that is otherwise challenging and can sometimes be downright difficult! For all of you that have been so kind as to write a long or short e-mail to me or post a comment here on my blog, I want to say a special thank you from the innermost and deepest feeling core of my heart. When I am blessed to have electricity and that much more blessed to have a free half-hour or so in my weekly schedule to go on-line, when I see that I have messages from my friends and partnerships that are waiting to be read, it is a cause for celebration! I cannot express to you how powerful even the shortest and most simple words are to your humble missionary to Africa!
I know that if I were where you are right now, I'd be wondering what I'd be eating next. Will you go out to eat or stay in? How long have I been away from American?, of course you're going out to eat, I always did! In Ghana, we never go out to eat, and though I'm usually decidedly hesitant in the use of infinite terms like always or never, in this case, believe me when I stress to you that, generally speaking, it is definitely true. Perhaps due to culture and custom, maybe due to comparatively high restaurant prices or most likely due to a little of all of the above, most Ghanaians rarely, if ever, go out to eat at a restaurant. This seems to fall increasingly on generational lines, such is the case it would seem due to the relentless march of "westernization" across the developed, developing and even undeveloped places on earth. As I watch an older Ghanaian sit at home and eat and hear of a younger son that is out spending fourteen Ghana Cedis on a single pizza, I'm beginning to understand why the world to varying degrees looks to "the west" and shakes either their fist or their heads with similar emotion. They feel an impending loss of culture and an increasing detachment from their own children that cannot be explained away. Feeling estranged from the next generation is a big deal in Africa because of the importance of relationships, especially family relationships.
A very wise missionary to Africa told me once that throughout his time of service, many Africans asked him, "But what do we have to offer? What can America, that has everything, possibly learn from us?" and the answer is simple, the importance of family. Here is food for thought, if you're lucky you have a mother, father, perhaps even a sibling or two. You see your "family" as who you live under the same roof with, right? Maybe you include an errant uncle, aunt or a few cousins. In Africa, the concept of family is so vast, so far reaching, it can hardly be done service here by your humble missionary. Everyone is an "uncle" or "auntie." It is culturally acceptable for a child to call people of no blood relation "mame" (ma-meee) or "papa." What can you learn from the people of Africa? You can learn the importance of family, and you can widen your definition to include not just the people you share DNA with, but all of the people in your much wider circle of contact, and you can seek to prosper them, encourage them and invest in their success so that when it arrives, you stand alongside them in celebration!
As of this Thursday just passed, your humble missionary has been in Ghana, West Africa for exactly one month. I have begun to pick-up the most basic elements of conversational Twi and am taking two one hour classes at the nearby Legon University. The locals are absolutely thrilled and delighted to something far beyond my powers to describe at hearing Ashante Twi bubble forth from my "obruni" (white person) lips. Any utterance of the like is followed by widening eyes, the explosive and contagious laughter of disbelief and sometimes even by people running away a few steps as they experience the former and the latter. To everyone's best recollection, there is only one other "obruni" that took to Twi so quickly and she became somewhat of a marketing legend here in Ghana. To any ability I seem to have in my rapid fluency in the language I give God the glory, I am too rational to be foolish enough to think that I can learn so quickly simply by my own ability. The current favorite of the Kwame Boyd stories to be swapped back and forth at church is the tro-tro tale. At a "tro-tro" station (bus, sort of, but I'll explain later) a street vendor (they wait everywhere and sell everything, more on that later as well) caught sight of me and smiled and half-heartedly chanted "obruni, obruni." I spun 90 degrees on the well worn heels of my sandals and smiled back as I cried "Ey! Obibini! Wo ho te sEn?" which literally means "Hey! Black person! How are you?" The vendor startled and exclaimed "Ey!" and took off at a quick walk, looking over his shoulder laughing and shaking his head. I should point out here briefly that as long as you don't get offended by being called "white person," the African does not get offended by being called "black person." The terms are equally inoffensive and neither bears the burden of an epithet or slur.
Second only to the enjoyment of the language, your humble missionary has had the opportunity, nay, the privilege of consuming myriad local dishes that would boggle the mind and perhaps cause the forearm and neck hairs of my western friends to stand on end. I've boldly sat to plates and bowls of things I never thought of combining or eating for that matter, but I know some of you might be squeamish if I jump right in so instead, with mercy befitting my work, I will walk you slowly into the Ghanaian cuisine. Bear in mind that the things that seem familiar to you aren't anything like what you've had, you have my personal assurance as to that. I've had pineapple that melts in your mouth, so fragrant you can smell it being cut a room's distance away. I've hate water out of small plastic bags, in fact, that's pretty much the only way I've had water to drink! I've had chicken that was clucking not one hour before, fish that I don't even know the names for! Everything is deadly spicy, but that fits in perfectly with the concept I had already instilled in me before leaving America of how to be a "fierce Ghanaian." I've found a common high ground with my host father, who, despite being dyed in sandal Ghanaian, does not like fufu. I have become a bit of an addict of sugar cane, freshly cut, chewed and sucked then spat out forthwith, fried plantain and friend yam (all three I'm proud to say I can prepare myself - to the amusement if not amazement of the locals!).
Now I need to set aside a section wholly separate from the previous for the following. The very young and the very old as well as those with less than stalwart constitutions should probably go ahead and leave the room. Have you left yet? The rest of us will wait...
Okay, I should hope by now that the aforementioned are gone. I have had kenkey and banku, both of which are a heavy dough that is steamed until hot and "cooked," made from corn/maize dough but prepared differently from each other. Both of these are usually served with a slurry of very hot peppers (think salsa at your favorite Mexican restaurant) and various chunks of fish and always whole sardines. You eat the lot with your bare hands - no utensils are requested nor provided. I don't know how you were raised, but my mom was raised in the front pew of a Baptist church in rural Alabama, your hands are for clapping for Jesus and even then only when the Deacons and the Pastor are already clapping. As the grammar might be put over the loudspeaker in Dahlonega, Georgia at Burt's Pumpkin Farm, "Let's don't eat with our hands." For those of you still in the dark as to how traumatizing the prospect was for me before "diving in," shall we say, my father is Korean by birth. This by default makes me genetically half-Korean but more importantly, very nearly 100% Korean culturally. Do you know why Asians use chopsticks? Do you know why Asians invented such long, thing wooden sticks to pick up their food with? Distance. We Asian folk like to keep a serious distance between our hands and our foot. I've always found it humorous that for all things to focus on, Americans usually poke fun of Asians for being "too clean." Hmm, if my calendar is right America is working it's way through the "we don't wash or hands but like to touch our faces flu season." Alas, I kid! Speaking of kids, they are dirty internationally, but more on that later.
You take the banku or kenkey much as you would fufu (though fufu is much, much more runny, gooey and gloppy). From your serving you pinch off about a golf ball sized amount between your thumb, index and middle finger. You mash the ball and, for lack of a better term, play with it until the consistency becomes smooth. You flatten it out on the palm-side of your index and middle finger then plunge said fingers into the stew or bowl of previously mentioned salsa-esque fish slurry. You work little pieces of fish and plenty of life-ending hot pepper into your fingerfull of dough then down the hatch it goes. You repeat this process until both your dough and whatever it was served with are gone. There is a large bowl of water, liquid soap and a towel at the table for afterwards. I find that the smell of spicy fish and the natural red dyes of tomatoes have a tendency to stay in the crevices around your nail and cuticle line for at least a week, by which time it is certainly time for some more kenkey or banku. I have gotten quite deft at extracting fish bones of various lengths and thickness from my mouth mid-chew.
I've had "red red," which is black-eyed peas, small fish bits, rice and fried plantain. I'm quite fond of the dish actually, though I'm sure the fat content is quite high. I've had bananas that stay green but are perfectly ripe, fragrant and amazingly delicious (they taste like the best banana smoothie you've ever had but made better by a power of 100). I've had oranges that also stay green but are ripe and when you peel them your gaze is paused in awe of the flesh of the fruit that is vibrant orange with pink tiger stripes. I've had watermelon that would make you realize you never had real watermelon before you had an African watermelon. While I'm sure I'll get countless e-mails expressing concern, I heartily crunch down on the seeds and eat the entire slice (something I can assure you I never did before). Oh but how I've saved the very best for last. Oh you lucky friend, you lucky chosen one to have read this far!
I have had the extreme dining glory of consuming "cow foot soup." I know, I know, what, without inviting you? I'm sorry, I'll be more inclusive next mealtime. A bowl is placed before you that steam and smells of hot spices. The broth is a rich brown with little else in it but what greets you in the center of your bowl like an island to bovine glory, jutting up out of the brown brothy sea. What delectable treasure is this? you wonder. It's the foot of a cow. How nice. I'm told it's a "delicacy" but that's little comfort since most of the wildest things I've eaten are considered "treats" or "delicacies." You spoon the large hoof out of the broth and remove it to a plate, using your free hand to balance the cloven remainder of a once proudly mooing herbivore. On the plate you skewer it with a fork and use your large soup spoon to cut the hoof, complete with hide into small cubed chunks. Replace now cubed hoof into your broth and now you're all set for a gastronomical extravaganza! After a long boil the texture is soft and somewhere between a baked potato and jello, depending on the hoof to hide ratio of your cube. I can't say that the flavor of the broth and thusly the hoof were undesirable even if the texture was beyond foreign. Regardless, I have done it now and if pressed by culture or etiquette I know now that I can do it again, though your humble missionary hopes that far less "delicate" dishes await the remainder of my mealtimes here in Africa.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
The name is Teiman, not Tema...
I want to take a moment to clear up something about the exciting work that is slowly beginning in Teiman. When we went to the Chief and the elders, I shared with them that I had come to share the good news of God's love first and foremost. I stated that I believe in a good and loving God that can also meet us all at the very point of our need and in so doing meet all of our needs. That being stated, I shared with them my desire to listen to them and hear what they believed was the most pressing physical need of the people of Teiman. Out of all the possible answers, the Chief and the elders answered unanimously that the village of Teiman needed a medical clinic. The closest medical clinic is far away in Abokobi, only accessible by a long and rough dirt road. Add to this reality the sobering fact that most residents of Teiman do not have a vehicle and can only travel on foot and you begin to understand the need for basic healthcare close to home.
The people of Teiman speak Ga, though they can also manage some Twi and a tiny bit of English. All of my meetings with the Chief have included the pastor of CBC who can speak Akuapem Twi and Momma Comfort, a member of CBC who speaks Ga. In the midst of all this translating and relaying is your humble "obruni" (whiteman) missionary. I didn't understand a key aspect of the first meeting with the people of Teiman and I need to clarify the details of that meeting now so that you can join me in celebration.
I stressed to the Chief and the elders that the primary purpose for me being in Ghana is to share the good news of God's love, but I didn't specify how. After the Chief and the elders agreed to ask for a medical clinic, after they assured us that a land parcel would be specially designated for a medical clinic, friends, I want to tell you that without prompting the people of Teiman offered a second land parcel and asked that we build them a Southern Baptist church!
Why is this significant?
1. We didn't go to Teiman asking to build a church
2. Teiman has six other denominations represented in their small village, none of which it would seem are meeting the spiritual needs of the community, or why would the Chief and the elders offer an additional land parcel for a Southern Baptist church completely of their own accord?
How soon can a new church be started in Teiman?
The answer is simple because a church is not a building, it is simply a place of worship. A place of worship is simply a place the people gather to give thanks for what God has done and to share with one another in the abiding grace of God's love. I will tell you what I have impressed upon the leadership of CBC, a church in Teiman can be started this very hour. I said "I will go, who will go with me?"
I hope to have good news for you soon. The land in Teiman needs to be registered, a process that takes both time and money. Then the land will need to receive a permit before any structure can be erected, a process that will also take time and money. We also need to get a site plan, price out construction materials, labor costs and any associated fees. It is my hope and I hope you will join with me in prayer that I will be able to draw up and submit to you and the other partners a proposed budget and timetable for the medical clinic and the new church start at Teiman! Remember that the new church at Teiman can and should start long before any church building is constructed, so please pray fervently that people in CBC will boldly volunteer to partner with me in going to Teiman to share the good news of God's love. Pray that the Chief and the elders will be receptive to an immediate start for the church and will designate a house or other indoor or outdoor area for us to begin sharing the good news of God's love with the people of Teiman! As we meet to worship and praise our loving God, I am confident that the people of Teiman will be fanned into flame for the love of God as their faith is reaffirmed by the progress they will see on their medical clinic! Let us be known as the people that give themselves away. Let us be known as the people that sought a need and pursued a solution. Let a reputation of selfless service spread through the outlying communities and towns surrounding Teiman so that others may come and ask who are these Christians and what is all this work I have heard about in Teiman?
What to celebrate:
1. The leadership of Teiman is receptive to hearing the Good News of God's love
2. The leadership of Teiman have the hearts of their people in mind and have asked for a medical clinic, knowing that it will benefit not only Teiman but all the communities in the area
3. The leadership of Teiman, without prompting, offered a second, additional land parcel on which they would like to have a Southern Baptist church
4. I am no longer ill (I was not well for the entirety of week 2)
What to pray about:
1. The leadership of Teiman will have a sense of urgency about getting their paperwork in order
2. That members of CBC will volunteer to give of their time to begin street evangelism in Teiman
3. That members of CBC will volunteer to go and begin a "house church" or open air church in Teiman
4. That I will be able to come to you, the mission partners, with a proposed budget for the medical clinic and the church at Teiman by the end of November.
5. That God will put people in my path daily that need to hear the good news of God's love
I have great news to share with you about Awukugua and I hope to share it with you very soon!
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Get your church engaged in the mission to Ghana! I welcome the opportunity to talk via Skype (it's free!) with youth groups, Sunday School classes or any interested group!
My next two posts will talk about the work at Awukugua, an orphanage called "Hope," my new Ghanaian name that the Chief of Awukugua bestowed on me and some of the foods I've had the privilege of ingesting! Be sure to watch for the next post! Remember, all you have to do is care and you too can...
Become the Change!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Let me speak plainly...
I met with the Chief of the village of Teiman. Several miles outside of Adenta, which is several miles outside of Accra, there is a very small place called Teiman. Don't be fooled, it's not Tema as some would correct you. In Teiman everyone goes to a central location to draw clean water that they then tote back to their homes in various containers. Children chase each other and startle and disperse a small group of goats that were casually tearing at some patchy grass beneath a mango tree. The buildings are single story, shaded by mud and dust they all take on a similar color, being a roughly smoothed plaster over concrete. As we drove up, everyone stopped and began to stand awkwardly straight as they noticed an "obruni" or white man, me, coming to their village.
This was an exploratory first meeting to evaluate the physical needs of the village so all of you would have a better idea of what the needs were and in this way, partnering together, we might be able to meet some of those immediate basic needs. The good news of God's love is first and foremost, that is a given, but meeting the physical need of these people fosters a relationship of trust that cannot be bought or sold at any price. We parked the car and our small commission of myself, Dr. Odoi, a woman named Momma Comfort (no relation to Dr. Odoi's wife by the same name) and our driver got out and began walking towards a small, walled enclave of buildings. We stood in the courtyard as some sort of meeting dispersed and then walked into a small room about ten feet by twenty feet in size. Along the top of the wall there were pictures of men dressed traditionally and wearing gold, these were the past chiefs of Teiman. We entered and began greeting, extending a right-handed handshake and moving counter-clockwise starting that the far wall where a single row of men of various ages faced us. Then we moved over to two very small rows perpendicular to the first row, I had no idea who was chief and I think that is the point of the arrangement. The four of us sat facing the two small rows and Momma Comfort started the introduction, I believe she may have spoken in Ga, which I'm told is the primary language of the people in Teiman,though they can also speak Twi and English (to a degree).
Then the room was introduced to us, the long single row were elders, then moving left to the back of the two short perpendicular rows was the "keeper of the stool" (the small stool is passed on from chief to chief but is considered the corporate possession of the village; it is a way of bestowing the chiefdom), then the chief, next was the the furthest right of the closer small row. The first person was the "speaker," through whom everyone else's idea were expressed, followed by the "cup bearer" to the chief. There were also two secretaries that sat behind our seats that hurriedly scribbled down notes for the meeting. We opened with a word of prayer, which I'm told is customary anyway. Then Dr.Odoi turned to me and translated what the "keeper of the stool" had just said, which was to ask why we had come. Dr. Odoi then said he'd translate for me if I would just tell them a little bit, he said he had already told them that I had come to help and that I knew I needed CBC as a facilitator. I told the room we come to share the good news of God's love, that is first and foremost. I then said we believe that God can take care of us and meet all of our needs. I then said that we wanted to hear from them what they felt were some of the immediate needs of Teiman and that we could then go back and coordinate with sources of support to see what needs we might be able to assist with.
There was some discussion by the elders in Twi or Ga and then the "keeper of the stool" spoke again, first in Twi or Ga and then he said he wanted to speak plainly and looked directly at me. He explained that they needed some specifics because otherwise there could be a never ending list of things. I then shared the core, basic human health matters that we had in mind: water, food, clothing and shelter. There was some more discussion by the elders in Twi or Ga and then the "keeper of the stool" came back with his response. They need a medical clinic and a new school building. Then the chief spoke, leaning forward and putting his right hand on the shoulder of the "speaker" that sat in front of him. They want to give us a piece of land to use for our church work and evangelism, they want to meet with us in one week to show us where they envision a medical clinic for their people and they want to invest sweat equity or offer physical labor as their part of this new partnership if we can help them get a medical clinic.
Here we have an opportunity at a long-term relationship with the people of Teiman. Here we have an opportunity to touch lives and make them better spiritually and physically. I need your help! Going forward I will need your prayers intensified, for physical health and for the logistics of planning this large project. We need skilled laborers, if only for advisement and pricing assistance. We need donors to come forward who are willing to partner with us in this great and important life-changing work. I know this is the beginning of something truly incredible, I look forward to experiencing it together. Remember, don't talk about change, become the change! Together, we can save the world!
Find me on FaceBook
Follow me on Twitter
Find me by name on YouTube
Follow me on Blogger
I hope to hear from you!
Become the Change!
This was an exploratory first meeting to evaluate the physical needs of the village so all of you would have a better idea of what the needs were and in this way, partnering together, we might be able to meet some of those immediate basic needs. The good news of God's love is first and foremost, that is a given, but meeting the physical need of these people fosters a relationship of trust that cannot be bought or sold at any price. We parked the car and our small commission of myself, Dr. Odoi, a woman named Momma Comfort (no relation to Dr. Odoi's wife by the same name) and our driver got out and began walking towards a small, walled enclave of buildings. We stood in the courtyard as some sort of meeting dispersed and then walked into a small room about ten feet by twenty feet in size. Along the top of the wall there were pictures of men dressed traditionally and wearing gold, these were the past chiefs of Teiman. We entered and began greeting, extending a right-handed handshake and moving counter-clockwise starting that the far wall where a single row of men of various ages faced us. Then we moved over to two very small rows perpendicular to the first row, I had no idea who was chief and I think that is the point of the arrangement. The four of us sat facing the two small rows and Momma Comfort started the introduction, I believe she may have spoken in Ga, which I'm told is the primary language of the people in Teiman,though they can also speak Twi and English (to a degree).
Then the room was introduced to us, the long single row were elders, then moving left to the back of the two short perpendicular rows was the "keeper of the stool" (the small stool is passed on from chief to chief but is considered the corporate possession of the village; it is a way of bestowing the chiefdom), then the chief, next was the the furthest right of the closer small row. The first person was the "speaker," through whom everyone else's idea were expressed, followed by the "cup bearer" to the chief. There were also two secretaries that sat behind our seats that hurriedly scribbled down notes for the meeting. We opened with a word of prayer, which I'm told is customary anyway. Then Dr.Odoi turned to me and translated what the "keeper of the stool" had just said, which was to ask why we had come. Dr. Odoi then said he'd translate for me if I would just tell them a little bit, he said he had already told them that I had come to help and that I knew I needed CBC as a facilitator. I told the room we come to share the good news of God's love, that is first and foremost. I then said we believe that God can take care of us and meet all of our needs. I then said that we wanted to hear from them what they felt were some of the immediate needs of Teiman and that we could then go back and coordinate with sources of support to see what needs we might be able to assist with.
There was some discussion by the elders in Twi or Ga and then the "keeper of the stool" spoke again, first in Twi or Ga and then he said he wanted to speak plainly and looked directly at me. He explained that they needed some specifics because otherwise there could be a never ending list of things. I then shared the core, basic human health matters that we had in mind: water, food, clothing and shelter. There was some more discussion by the elders in Twi or Ga and then the "keeper of the stool" came back with his response. They need a medical clinic and a new school building. Then the chief spoke, leaning forward and putting his right hand on the shoulder of the "speaker" that sat in front of him. They want to give us a piece of land to use for our church work and evangelism, they want to meet with us in one week to show us where they envision a medical clinic for their people and they want to invest sweat equity or offer physical labor as their part of this new partnership if we can help them get a medical clinic.
Here we have an opportunity at a long-term relationship with the people of Teiman. Here we have an opportunity to touch lives and make them better spiritually and physically. I need your help! Going forward I will need your prayers intensified, for physical health and for the logistics of planning this large project. We need skilled laborers, if only for advisement and pricing assistance. We need donors to come forward who are willing to partner with us in this great and important life-changing work. I know this is the beginning of something truly incredible, I look forward to experiencing it together. Remember, don't talk about change, become the change! Together, we can save the world!
Find me on FaceBook
Follow me on Twitter
Find me by name on YouTube
Follow me on Blogger
I hope to hear from you!
Become the Change!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
It is Africa after all...
Well, I have a free moment or two and it is high time I caught you up on what has been going on in my little address in Africa! I am sorry that I have not been on-line the last two days, I have been under the spell of a rather nasty and persistent African stomach bug (bound to happen eventually). I don't want my posts to only sing the praises of the heat and the ever prevalent roosters so I intend to share with you briefly what I have experienced since landing now almost one week ago exactly.
Thursday night I got home rather late and basically had a free schedule to rest. Friday I went to a Youth fellowship Bible Study that was incredible. I remain very excited to see a group of young people so passionately opinionated about discussing a story from scripture. The interaction was incredible and I was left wondering why youth groups back in the states that I've been a part of lack this kind of excitement and open discussion about scripture. This is definitely something that warrants further study and I plan on revisiting this topic in a later post for all of us to discuss. Saturday started early and we went to a traditional baby naming ceremony. We greeted everyone sitting in the room (counter clockwise of course!), we sang, prayed, pastor read some scripture then we all went around the room and recited the baby's name and then a small bucket is placed on a small stool in the center of the room and gifts (usually money) are placed in the bucket for the benefit of the child. From there we went to our first of two Saturday funerals, this one was at the church for a lady only thirty-three years of age. We went from the church to the graveyard and they actually had several men carry and then lower the casket into a shallow, tile-lined grave. We sang a few songs and then the pastor read who each wreath was from before tossing each into the grave onto the casket. Then a man began shoveling dirt onto the casket and there was one woman in attendance that became hysterical. I find that the space between life and death is so small here that it is almost non-existant, unlike in America where we have developed a more comfortable almost austere and clinical way of handling death.
The second funeral was no where near the church, it was all the way into the mountains in a very rural place called Adukrum, the pastor's hometown. The air was so much cleaner in the hills, I tried to breathe as much as possible in the hopes of storing some clean air for when we returned to the city (the smog is visible, thick and stings the eyes). This funeral was for a man of eighty-three years I believe, and we had a full blown meal while we were there. When we sat to eat, Mamma Comfort (host mom) stopped me from eating the salad, warning that there was no telling when it was made or by whom and it might not be clean (I had already eaten one piece). The car trip there and back to the church took at least an hour but I could be wrong (it could be more!). The distance was likely not so great but the roads here are beyond belief. Enormous, numerous chassis-ending potholes like vast craters make the roads more or less a system of dirt paths around the said holes. Negotiating them at any speed is a jarring experience, traversing the roadways at the speed pastor drives (he's always in a hurry!) is a truly transcendant experience (it draws you into a much closer walk with God). I should at this point mention that we have several drivers that work for the family, this is not the luxury expense it would be in the U.S., instead, it is a normal practice for most middle class Ghanaians. I think this might be a hold over from the days of colonialism.
One of our drivers, Edgar, has been very kind and has walked with me outside the walls of the home and down the dirt path to the main road. He explained the different fruit trees that are growing all over the place and some other basics of Ghanaian culture. I don't think I've mentioned it before but there is a large brick and plaster wall measuring about eight feet high and topped with row upon row of metal spikes that closes in the property of the pastor's home. There is a small but intimidating metal door for pedestrians and a much larger double doored gate for vehicles. There is a large mango tree in the front yard, the backyard has several plaintain and coconut trees. We have a lot of rather large lizards with bright orange and yellow heads and green bodies. There are, of course, the chickens. There are "wall Gekkos" that occassionally race across the interior walls. The floors are decorative concrete (the kind with little flecks of colored bits in them), the windows are moveable horizontal glass slats which, by necessity almost always stay open. Those are covered by curtains that are almost always tied midway by a little piece of rope so as to allow for more air movement. We have a fierce guard dog named Bruno (I'm in talks with him to see if he'll eat a rooster), he has the most curious and interesting coloration I've ever seen and loves to wiggle his little stub of a tail when greeting any family member.
I have introduced my host brother Stephen to Star Wars, yes, yes, I am corrupting a whole new continent with my nerdiness! I had a great discussion with him the other day about what his passion was, he currently works for a mobile phone company and plugs in bits of code to make sure all the calls go through. I briefly met my other host brother Caleb, he's away at school but comes home to do laundry (isn't it cool how all the way in Africa some things are the same?) My host sister Dorcas has been a great friend to me. She has taught me most of the Twi phrases I now know and has made sure I've eaten each and every day. She will be leaving us soon to go live and work up north somewhere with churches there (it is infinitely more rural the further north you go). Sunday I went to the first service (in english exclusively) and then to Sunday school, then to the second service (in Twi exclusively) and then home. I may be mixing up my days (I've been vociferously ill for two days) but I'm pretty sure Sunday night is when Dorcas took me to a graduation ceremony for a Sports Leadership school. They use sports combined with evangelism to equip attendees to go work with the young people of their areas. Students come from all over. One of the first things they did was all the students went to the front and stood together, introducing themselves and saying a simple greeting in their native language, then they sang a song together. As I listened, there were students from Cameroon, Liberia, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Ghana, and other countries. Most of these countries do not get along, some outright seek the anihilation of the other. I knew if I let myself shed a tear Dorcas would never let me live it down (joking) but I'll never forget how incredible it was to sit there and listen to all the different greetings and then hear a song sung together in unity.
Monday I was a volunteer at a school run by a church member. It was a unique experience to be called "Uncle Kwame" over and over and over again by thirty or so children. I helped them with their classwork, read several stories, assisted in feeding some of the younger ones and had an altogether good but tiring day. Tuesday and Wednesday I have been sick, but that about catches us up. I'll blog again soon! I hope to have pictures up by Friday.
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I've got to go sweat some more, I think I still have some fluids left in me! God bless!
Thursday night I got home rather late and basically had a free schedule to rest. Friday I went to a Youth fellowship Bible Study that was incredible. I remain very excited to see a group of young people so passionately opinionated about discussing a story from scripture. The interaction was incredible and I was left wondering why youth groups back in the states that I've been a part of lack this kind of excitement and open discussion about scripture. This is definitely something that warrants further study and I plan on revisiting this topic in a later post for all of us to discuss. Saturday started early and we went to a traditional baby naming ceremony. We greeted everyone sitting in the room (counter clockwise of course!), we sang, prayed, pastor read some scripture then we all went around the room and recited the baby's name and then a small bucket is placed on a small stool in the center of the room and gifts (usually money) are placed in the bucket for the benefit of the child. From there we went to our first of two Saturday funerals, this one was at the church for a lady only thirty-three years of age. We went from the church to the graveyard and they actually had several men carry and then lower the casket into a shallow, tile-lined grave. We sang a few songs and then the pastor read who each wreath was from before tossing each into the grave onto the casket. Then a man began shoveling dirt onto the casket and there was one woman in attendance that became hysterical. I find that the space between life and death is so small here that it is almost non-existant, unlike in America where we have developed a more comfortable almost austere and clinical way of handling death.
The second funeral was no where near the church, it was all the way into the mountains in a very rural place called Adukrum, the pastor's hometown. The air was so much cleaner in the hills, I tried to breathe as much as possible in the hopes of storing some clean air for when we returned to the city (the smog is visible, thick and stings the eyes). This funeral was for a man of eighty-three years I believe, and we had a full blown meal while we were there. When we sat to eat, Mamma Comfort (host mom) stopped me from eating the salad, warning that there was no telling when it was made or by whom and it might not be clean (I had already eaten one piece). The car trip there and back to the church took at least an hour but I could be wrong (it could be more!). The distance was likely not so great but the roads here are beyond belief. Enormous, numerous chassis-ending potholes like vast craters make the roads more or less a system of dirt paths around the said holes. Negotiating them at any speed is a jarring experience, traversing the roadways at the speed pastor drives (he's always in a hurry!) is a truly transcendant experience (it draws you into a much closer walk with God). I should at this point mention that we have several drivers that work for the family, this is not the luxury expense it would be in the U.S., instead, it is a normal practice for most middle class Ghanaians. I think this might be a hold over from the days of colonialism.
One of our drivers, Edgar, has been very kind and has walked with me outside the walls of the home and down the dirt path to the main road. He explained the different fruit trees that are growing all over the place and some other basics of Ghanaian culture. I don't think I've mentioned it before but there is a large brick and plaster wall measuring about eight feet high and topped with row upon row of metal spikes that closes in the property of the pastor's home. There is a small but intimidating metal door for pedestrians and a much larger double doored gate for vehicles. There is a large mango tree in the front yard, the backyard has several plaintain and coconut trees. We have a lot of rather large lizards with bright orange and yellow heads and green bodies. There are, of course, the chickens. There are "wall Gekkos" that occassionally race across the interior walls. The floors are decorative concrete (the kind with little flecks of colored bits in them), the windows are moveable horizontal glass slats which, by necessity almost always stay open. Those are covered by curtains that are almost always tied midway by a little piece of rope so as to allow for more air movement. We have a fierce guard dog named Bruno (I'm in talks with him to see if he'll eat a rooster), he has the most curious and interesting coloration I've ever seen and loves to wiggle his little stub of a tail when greeting any family member.
I have introduced my host brother Stephen to Star Wars, yes, yes, I am corrupting a whole new continent with my nerdiness! I had a great discussion with him the other day about what his passion was, he currently works for a mobile phone company and plugs in bits of code to make sure all the calls go through. I briefly met my other host brother Caleb, he's away at school but comes home to do laundry (isn't it cool how all the way in Africa some things are the same?) My host sister Dorcas has been a great friend to me. She has taught me most of the Twi phrases I now know and has made sure I've eaten each and every day. She will be leaving us soon to go live and work up north somewhere with churches there (it is infinitely more rural the further north you go). Sunday I went to the first service (in english exclusively) and then to Sunday school, then to the second service (in Twi exclusively) and then home. I may be mixing up my days (I've been vociferously ill for two days) but I'm pretty sure Sunday night is when Dorcas took me to a graduation ceremony for a Sports Leadership school. They use sports combined with evangelism to equip attendees to go work with the young people of their areas. Students come from all over. One of the first things they did was all the students went to the front and stood together, introducing themselves and saying a simple greeting in their native language, then they sang a song together. As I listened, there were students from Cameroon, Liberia, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Ghana, and other countries. Most of these countries do not get along, some outright seek the anihilation of the other. I knew if I let myself shed a tear Dorcas would never let me live it down (joking) but I'll never forget how incredible it was to sit there and listen to all the different greetings and then hear a song sung together in unity.
Monday I was a volunteer at a school run by a church member. It was a unique experience to be called "Uncle Kwame" over and over and over again by thirty or so children. I helped them with their classwork, read several stories, assisted in feeding some of the younger ones and had an altogether good but tiring day. Tuesday and Wednesday I have been sick, but that about catches us up. I'll blog again soon! I hope to have pictures up by Friday.
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I need your support! Believe me I do!
I've got to go sweat some more, I think I still have some fluids left in me! God bless!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
A Fierce Ghanaian Schedule...
I want to try and catch you up on what I've been up to since arriving. I didn't blog or journal Saturday, and believe me when I tell you that there is a reason for that! Friday I went to a Youth Fellowship and was rewarded greatly with the blessing of seeing a group of young people who are intensely interested about their Bible study and very passionate about their opinions about the text, yet they all loved one another and shared good company. Saturday I went to a traditional baby naming ceremony and then two subsequent traditional funerals in completely different geographic locations. My laptop battery is dying so I'll leave you with this: I will get pictures up by next weekend. I will get a more detailed blog about the things I've seen and done by Wednesday. Pray for me - water is a true commodity here. I find I'm thirsty nearly all the time and often catch myself in the middle of a hydration headache.
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I have to go - I am sweating and going to enjoy a few hours that the rooster isn't awake for...yet.
Have faith that God is speaking to me in powerful and amazing ways which I hope to share with you soon. My heart breaks for the suffering and poverty I have already seen but I feel empowered by my heart's love for these people that are now within my arm's reach. I hope I can count on your continued prayers and support! Peace and blessings! Become the change!
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sounds like a sneeze...
Haatso. That's where my host family's home is located. I made it to Ghana at last and is has been an amazing experience. I began to think that the flight would never end but I became excited as I looked out the window of my plane and saw an endless view of peanut butter colored land covered in the texture of dimpes and ripples. I knew we were over north Africa and the desert! The clouds even looked "African," vast, dramatic thermals shooting thousands upon thousands of feet into the air, great plumes like white and grey heads of broccoli. As the sun set, the plane was surrounded with a seemingly impenetrable darkness like black velvet cloth was wrapped around us only broken by the rhythmic pulse of the lights on the plane's wings. Then I knew we were over Accra! Suddenly out of the darkness I began to see a little amber light, then an equally tiny sea green one. Soon, it appeared as if some giant art teacher had spilled amber and light green glitter in spiderweb-like patterns on the ground, shimmering under the moonlight. It looked as veins of copper, light green and amber, running through the black obsidian of darkness that surrounded them.
We landed on a nearly unlit airstrip and I thanked my lucky stars that the pilot was such a good shot! As we decellerated I saw in the inky darkness other planes, blacked out, unlit, sitting off the sides of the airstrip, it was a little unnerving! I got off the plane and walked down the stairs, crossed the short distance to the building and entered Kotoka International Airport. I walked down a hallway lined with big cooling fans and with a wall painted in a beautiful mural. There was a small dispute between a woman and a man about who was next in line at customs, then I went on to baggage claim, which was more than a little chaotic. People grabbed at luggage carts almost frantically and were quick to pull bags off the turnstyle that were not theirs, only to not return them, dooming them to no longer circulate for inspection and retrieval. I finally got my bags on a prized luggage cart and headed through the winding hallways and series of ramps that are so steep, I'm sure they could double as ski ramps if the weather was just right. Suffice it to say, if you don't strain back against the tug of your cart, you will lose it, it will rapidly gather momentum and something or someone is going to be the target of a heavily loaded luggage cart careening out of control down one of Kotoka Airport's now infamous ramps. The tension gets to you I guess because there was a lady and a couple men full out yelling back and forth with some security halfway down one of the ramps. I didn't pause to hear what was going on, I could only hear the late Steve Irwin's voice in my head saying, "Dannnnguh, danguh, danguh!"
My plane landed much, much earlier than was originally scheduled so there was no one at the airport to meet me. I had no phone, of course, and I also had managed to fail to write down the phone numbers for my host family. (Brilliant!) Elizabeth is a Ghanaian woman that is friends with the Owusu family and was there to save my day and my life! She stayed with me and even got other random Ghanaians to lend their mobile phones to call Pastor Charles and subsequently Dr. Odoi, my host father. Outside the airport was a fast introduction to some Ghanaian life, lots of locals eager to lay hands on my bags for any number of reasons. Most want to help you, but will be equally eager to demand payment after providing assistance. Elizabeth was right there with me and didn't leave my side until Dr. Odoi arrived. Thank God! I watched several incidents within five feet of me where there was some disagreement between men who immediately began to try physically fighting. I heard Steve Irwin's warning again and braced for the inevitable involvement in a brawl. This happened twice and dissipated twice and my heart's health has been tested and proven strong enough to survive massive adrenalin doses.
Dr. Odoi greeted me with a smile and a hug. We got into his car and drove through Accra. I was still in some denial about being in Africa, based on what I had seen so far this could be anywhere in the United States, perhaps even Atlanta. Then there was a checkpoint with regular police and military, both with automatic assault rifles, this was definitely not Atlanta. The road was bumpy and only two lanes in some places due to an incredible amount of construction going on to widen the road and improve the infrastructure. Traffic slowed to a crawl for most of the journey and it took a long time but Dr. Odoi said that under ordinary circumstances it should only be a fifteen minute trip. We stopped by the Mall, I couldn't believe there was a ShopRite! All the shops were closed but we'll go back on another day so that I can pick up some basic items like soap and a washcloth.
I got to the Odoi home, which is gated and walled, and was greeted by the resident guardian, Bruno, a small but "fierce Ghanaian" dog who incidentally loves to have his belly rubbed by total strangers. Mrs. Odoi raises chickens in the backyard and as I write to you now, they have been serenading us for umpteen hours just to make sure we know they are there. Yes, yes, we know, you're a chicken and you're there! There are large lizards that pitter-pat across the roof sometimes, something that is fascinating for me but totally lost on the Odoi family who are completely acclimated to the occurrence. The home feels and looks very Morrocan, if I can say such a thing, based soley on my viewing of pictures and movies. I took a bucket bath and got settled in last night. I slept well and woke up to have a great Bible study with my host mother and host sister Dorcas. I then had a great and simple breakfast with my host mother and learned about how she and Dr. Odoi met.
I have to go but I will write more later on. I hope you will all stay in touch with me! Peace and blessings! Join the BLOG, follow me on Twitter and FaceBook and YouTube!
We landed on a nearly unlit airstrip and I thanked my lucky stars that the pilot was such a good shot! As we decellerated I saw in the inky darkness other planes, blacked out, unlit, sitting off the sides of the airstrip, it was a little unnerving! I got off the plane and walked down the stairs, crossed the short distance to the building and entered Kotoka International Airport. I walked down a hallway lined with big cooling fans and with a wall painted in a beautiful mural. There was a small dispute between a woman and a man about who was next in line at customs, then I went on to baggage claim, which was more than a little chaotic. People grabbed at luggage carts almost frantically and were quick to pull bags off the turnstyle that were not theirs, only to not return them, dooming them to no longer circulate for inspection and retrieval. I finally got my bags on a prized luggage cart and headed through the winding hallways and series of ramps that are so steep, I'm sure they could double as ski ramps if the weather was just right. Suffice it to say, if you don't strain back against the tug of your cart, you will lose it, it will rapidly gather momentum and something or someone is going to be the target of a heavily loaded luggage cart careening out of control down one of Kotoka Airport's now infamous ramps. The tension gets to you I guess because there was a lady and a couple men full out yelling back and forth with some security halfway down one of the ramps. I didn't pause to hear what was going on, I could only hear the late Steve Irwin's voice in my head saying, "Dannnnguh, danguh, danguh!"
My plane landed much, much earlier than was originally scheduled so there was no one at the airport to meet me. I had no phone, of course, and I also had managed to fail to write down the phone numbers for my host family. (Brilliant!) Elizabeth is a Ghanaian woman that is friends with the Owusu family and was there to save my day and my life! She stayed with me and even got other random Ghanaians to lend their mobile phones to call Pastor Charles and subsequently Dr. Odoi, my host father. Outside the airport was a fast introduction to some Ghanaian life, lots of locals eager to lay hands on my bags for any number of reasons. Most want to help you, but will be equally eager to demand payment after providing assistance. Elizabeth was right there with me and didn't leave my side until Dr. Odoi arrived. Thank God! I watched several incidents within five feet of me where there was some disagreement between men who immediately began to try physically fighting. I heard Steve Irwin's warning again and braced for the inevitable involvement in a brawl. This happened twice and dissipated twice and my heart's health has been tested and proven strong enough to survive massive adrenalin doses.
Dr. Odoi greeted me with a smile and a hug. We got into his car and drove through Accra. I was still in some denial about being in Africa, based on what I had seen so far this could be anywhere in the United States, perhaps even Atlanta. Then there was a checkpoint with regular police and military, both with automatic assault rifles, this was definitely not Atlanta. The road was bumpy and only two lanes in some places due to an incredible amount of construction going on to widen the road and improve the infrastructure. Traffic slowed to a crawl for most of the journey and it took a long time but Dr. Odoi said that under ordinary circumstances it should only be a fifteen minute trip. We stopped by the Mall, I couldn't believe there was a ShopRite! All the shops were closed but we'll go back on another day so that I can pick up some basic items like soap and a washcloth.
I got to the Odoi home, which is gated and walled, and was greeted by the resident guardian, Bruno, a small but "fierce Ghanaian" dog who incidentally loves to have his belly rubbed by total strangers. Mrs. Odoi raises chickens in the backyard and as I write to you now, they have been serenading us for umpteen hours just to make sure we know they are there. Yes, yes, we know, you're a chicken and you're there! There are large lizards that pitter-pat across the roof sometimes, something that is fascinating for me but totally lost on the Odoi family who are completely acclimated to the occurrence. The home feels and looks very Morrocan, if I can say such a thing, based soley on my viewing of pictures and movies. I took a bucket bath and got settled in last night. I slept well and woke up to have a great Bible study with my host mother and host sister Dorcas. I then had a great and simple breakfast with my host mother and learned about how she and Dr. Odoi met.
I have to go but I will write more later on. I hope you will all stay in touch with me! Peace and blessings! Join the BLOG, follow me on Twitter and FaceBook and YouTube!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The Wonder of it All...
I have never been one to try to paint with a broad brush and fit everything that happens in this life neatly into the categories of fate and destiny, but there are some things in life that speak more clearly than others and as signs they will not be dismissed. Some might wonder how I know that going to Ghana is right? How do I know this is what I am called to do? I would offer up five simple, seemingly unrelated events in my life that, for me, all point to Ghana and urge me to continue on my path to Ghana. The first has to do with meeting a stranger, two are about money and two are about encouraging my heart. I consider all of them miracles and all of them have been incredibly powerful experiences for me, I hope you'll seek to see the signs in your own life. Where are they pointing you?
It was Cracker Barrel Creepy.
A few weeks ago, I was up late trying to hash out the details of my Africa trip when I realized it had been quite some time since I had last had something to eat. Growing hungry, I got in my car and drove down the road headed towards the first grouping of fast food restaurants. Now as my home church pastor, Dr. Cooper would say, in order for this story to carry water there are some details you need to know. Highway 400 is the major thoroughfare that will get you nearly anywhere from Atlanta on north to Dahlonega. I live several miles off of Exit 17 of Highway 400. Since trip details had me busy, I had gotten into the habit of ordering from the drive-through so that I could get back home to my work but also so I wouldn't have to eat alone inside the restaurant (something I rarely ever do). Just off Exit 17 near where I live there are some fast food places to eat but I drove right on past those deciding I just wasn't in the mood for those particular places or types of food. I then decided to head south from Exit 17 towards Exit 14, the next major grouping of restaurants. As I approached Exit 14 I drove on, not in the mood for any of those. In just a split second I made a choice that at the time seemed totally inconsequential but would prove to be huge. I chose to go to Cracker Barrel that night.
It was nearly eight o' clock at night, I live off of Exit 17, Cracker Barrel was all the way down to Exit 11. I hadn't gone to Cracker Barrel in ages because of the distance but that night I had decided it was what I wanted. I could go in and sit quietly by myself, something I rarely do, and read a book I had just bought about Ghana, all the while enjoying free refills on my sweet tea. I pulled up to the Cracker Barrel, parked my car, grabbed my book to take with me, went inside, was led to a table, sat down, handed a menu which I began to intently study as I prepared to place my order. As I read the menu, half hidden behind it, in the outermost edge of my vision that remained unobstructed by the menu I noticed a server approaching my table. The introduction went something like this:
"Oh my gosh! Are you going to Ghana or are you just studying about it?"
Shocked and shaken, I slowly lifted my eyes up and to the side to look at this person before I responded.
"Um, I'm going to Ghana actually, for six months to do humanitarian work."
"That is awesome! Where will you be living?"
"Adenta, just outside of Accra, the capital."
"Oh my gosh! I used to live in Accra, I lived there when I was younger. I went to school there!"
At this point you probably could have knocked me over with a feather. Her name was Jonell Finley and between the moments of waiting on the other tables in her area we spent perhaps the better part of the next thirty minutes talking about Ghana. She shared with me how much she missed Ghana, the culture, the language and the food. Before I left I made sure I had her e-mail and she had mine and I made sure I told her about Amazing Grace Baptist Church, the Ghanaian congregation I worship with in Atlanta. Since then she has not been able to get a Sunday off from work, something we have all likely experienced at some point in time, but I have faith that Jonell is going to come to Amazing Grace very soon and I know in my heart that it will change her life when she does.
Remember what it means to volunteer.
Very briefly I want to share with you two financial miracles. As a volunteer I have no source of real or livable income, I have been living off my savings since resigning my position with the county a little over a month ago. Because "no one goes to Ghana," the ticket prices are always quite high, almost always around $1,500. I was struggling to find a ticket because travel agencies just will not book flights to Ghana, it's as simple as that. When I asked why I was given any number of variations of the theme that internal policies listed Ghana in such a way as to exclude it from the "acceptable list" of destinations available for booking by travel agencies. My friend and Christian brother Pastor Charles Owusu came to my aid, offering to arrange the booking through a friend and church member that might be able to find a good price through his travel company. Friends, I went nearly crazy waiting for a ticket to be found. As I searched on my own, I saw that tickets through any carrier were all around $1,800 with some as high as $3,000. When I purchased the ticket my Ghanaian friends found for me, it was just under $1,400, and that is a miracle.
The second money miracle is health related. Anti-malarial medication is an absolute must for travelers to Ghana or anywhere in the tropics. Why is malaria still such a killer in the world? Simple, because the medications that prevent it are exceedingly expensive and therefor out of the financial reach of a great many people. My mother is a healthcare professional and with her help we had shopped on-line for the lowest pricing possible for the anti-malaria pills my doctor had prescibed. Based on a trend we were seeing, we had ever expectation of paying around $1,800 for a six month supply. Now I'm usually hesitant to endorse any specific brand but I want to tell you we were able to get six months of anti-malaria pills at Sam's Club for just about $500. Friends, in that instant my trip became nearly $1,400 cheaper and this is where Dr.Cooper would tell you it's okay to say an "Amen."
Your needs are known.
Two Saturdays ago I was in a real bad way. I was sick to my stomach, unable to sleep, unable to eat and all the while with an exquisite headache. My anxiety and fears about the trip and the tension surrounding the final details were just too much for me. I felt like my resolve and my sanity were on a razors edge and needed but a nudge to spell disaster for me. I knew I was under attack because when I questioned myself about the fear and anxiety there were no specifics, just bland, generic fear of the unknown. Two Sundays ago I sat in church at Amazing Grace and I took out a pen and a slip of paper and I began to write a note to Pastor Charles Owusu. I was sending out a distress call with a pen and paper, asking if Amazing Grace could pray for me during the service because I was having a very difficult struggle and I believed I just might be losing the battle. I finished the note but then looked in the church program and saw that it was "Men's Day," a special day for the men of the church to run the service and also have lunch afterwards. I decided it was too busy to worry about my need, it could wait until next Sunday and I put the note away inside my Bible. Now I hadn't said a word to the pastor (Dr.Owusu) or my friend (Charles Owusu), and there was no special annotation in the program but before the service ended Dr. Owusu called me as "our brother Kwame," to come kneel at the altar and have all the men of the church lay hands on me and pray over me. As the men prayed, some in Twi and others in English, Dr. Owusu prayed and specifically asked God remove my fears and anxieties about the trip. If I hadn't been there I'd say it was unbelievable. Now friends, I'm going to be vulnerable with you for a moment and tell you free of any embarrassment I cried during that prayer. This amazing experience was followed by last Sunday, when, without my knowing or anything specially noted in the church program, Concord Baptist Church where my family attends did the same thing with the only difference being it was Sunday night and the entire church came forward and prayed over me.
Some people ask for a sign so that they can know they are going the right way. I say if you are calm, quiet and still, you will see signs all around you, pointing you to where you should go. It took me weeks before I realized that my home church in Ghana, Calvary Baptist Church, bears the same name a little church in Alabama. The Calvary Baptist Church in Alabama was built long before I was born on land donated by my mother's family and was where my grandfather preached the good news of God's love now so many years ago. How incredible that without my hand in it at all a church in Ghana where I have never been would bear the same name and that that church would choose to invite me to come serve with them. This is the second part of this story where Dr. Cooper would tell you it's okay to say an "Amen."
Be sure to click "FOLLOW," it's that little button at the top right, just below the Ghanaian flag, that way you'll be notified by e-mail when I add a post to my blog! You can also follow me on Twitter, FaceBook and YouTube, all the links are right over there on the right hand side of your screen. Please watch my video on YouTube, it's called "Become the Change," username "Hope4Ghana."Check out the websites for Amazing Grace Baptist Church, Concord Baptist Church (Mr. Mike is an Internet wizard!), Calvary Baptist Church - Adenta and the Ghana Baptist Association. I urge you to follow me on all the networking sites I'm a part of so that you can pray with me, celebrate with me and follow my exciting journey as I serve the people of Ghana, W. Africa!
It was Cracker Barrel Creepy.
A few weeks ago, I was up late trying to hash out the details of my Africa trip when I realized it had been quite some time since I had last had something to eat. Growing hungry, I got in my car and drove down the road headed towards the first grouping of fast food restaurants. Now as my home church pastor, Dr. Cooper would say, in order for this story to carry water there are some details you need to know. Highway 400 is the major thoroughfare that will get you nearly anywhere from Atlanta on north to Dahlonega. I live several miles off of Exit 17 of Highway 400. Since trip details had me busy, I had gotten into the habit of ordering from the drive-through so that I could get back home to my work but also so I wouldn't have to eat alone inside the restaurant (something I rarely ever do). Just off Exit 17 near where I live there are some fast food places to eat but I drove right on past those deciding I just wasn't in the mood for those particular places or types of food. I then decided to head south from Exit 17 towards Exit 14, the next major grouping of restaurants. As I approached Exit 14 I drove on, not in the mood for any of those. In just a split second I made a choice that at the time seemed totally inconsequential but would prove to be huge. I chose to go to Cracker Barrel that night.
It was nearly eight o' clock at night, I live off of Exit 17, Cracker Barrel was all the way down to Exit 11. I hadn't gone to Cracker Barrel in ages because of the distance but that night I had decided it was what I wanted. I could go in and sit quietly by myself, something I rarely do, and read a book I had just bought about Ghana, all the while enjoying free refills on my sweet tea. I pulled up to the Cracker Barrel, parked my car, grabbed my book to take with me, went inside, was led to a table, sat down, handed a menu which I began to intently study as I prepared to place my order. As I read the menu, half hidden behind it, in the outermost edge of my vision that remained unobstructed by the menu I noticed a server approaching my table. The introduction went something like this:
"Oh my gosh! Are you going to Ghana or are you just studying about it?"
Shocked and shaken, I slowly lifted my eyes up and to the side to look at this person before I responded.
"Um, I'm going to Ghana actually, for six months to do humanitarian work."
"That is awesome! Where will you be living?"
"Adenta, just outside of Accra, the capital."
"Oh my gosh! I used to live in Accra, I lived there when I was younger. I went to school there!"
At this point you probably could have knocked me over with a feather. Her name was Jonell Finley and between the moments of waiting on the other tables in her area we spent perhaps the better part of the next thirty minutes talking about Ghana. She shared with me how much she missed Ghana, the culture, the language and the food. Before I left I made sure I had her e-mail and she had mine and I made sure I told her about Amazing Grace Baptist Church, the Ghanaian congregation I worship with in Atlanta. Since then she has not been able to get a Sunday off from work, something we have all likely experienced at some point in time, but I have faith that Jonell is going to come to Amazing Grace very soon and I know in my heart that it will change her life when she does.
Remember what it means to volunteer.
Very briefly I want to share with you two financial miracles. As a volunteer I have no source of real or livable income, I have been living off my savings since resigning my position with the county a little over a month ago. Because "no one goes to Ghana," the ticket prices are always quite high, almost always around $1,500. I was struggling to find a ticket because travel agencies just will not book flights to Ghana, it's as simple as that. When I asked why I was given any number of variations of the theme that internal policies listed Ghana in such a way as to exclude it from the "acceptable list" of destinations available for booking by travel agencies. My friend and Christian brother Pastor Charles Owusu came to my aid, offering to arrange the booking through a friend and church member that might be able to find a good price through his travel company. Friends, I went nearly crazy waiting for a ticket to be found. As I searched on my own, I saw that tickets through any carrier were all around $1,800 with some as high as $3,000. When I purchased the ticket my Ghanaian friends found for me, it was just under $1,400, and that is a miracle.
The second money miracle is health related. Anti-malarial medication is an absolute must for travelers to Ghana or anywhere in the tropics. Why is malaria still such a killer in the world? Simple, because the medications that prevent it are exceedingly expensive and therefor out of the financial reach of a great many people. My mother is a healthcare professional and with her help we had shopped on-line for the lowest pricing possible for the anti-malaria pills my doctor had prescibed. Based on a trend we were seeing, we had ever expectation of paying around $1,800 for a six month supply. Now I'm usually hesitant to endorse any specific brand but I want to tell you we were able to get six months of anti-malaria pills at Sam's Club for just about $500. Friends, in that instant my trip became nearly $1,400 cheaper and this is where Dr.Cooper would tell you it's okay to say an "Amen."
Your needs are known.
Two Saturdays ago I was in a real bad way. I was sick to my stomach, unable to sleep, unable to eat and all the while with an exquisite headache. My anxiety and fears about the trip and the tension surrounding the final details were just too much for me. I felt like my resolve and my sanity were on a razors edge and needed but a nudge to spell disaster for me. I knew I was under attack because when I questioned myself about the fear and anxiety there were no specifics, just bland, generic fear of the unknown. Two Sundays ago I sat in church at Amazing Grace and I took out a pen and a slip of paper and I began to write a note to Pastor Charles Owusu. I was sending out a distress call with a pen and paper, asking if Amazing Grace could pray for me during the service because I was having a very difficult struggle and I believed I just might be losing the battle. I finished the note but then looked in the church program and saw that it was "Men's Day," a special day for the men of the church to run the service and also have lunch afterwards. I decided it was too busy to worry about my need, it could wait until next Sunday and I put the note away inside my Bible. Now I hadn't said a word to the pastor (Dr.Owusu) or my friend (Charles Owusu), and there was no special annotation in the program but before the service ended Dr. Owusu called me as "our brother Kwame," to come kneel at the altar and have all the men of the church lay hands on me and pray over me. As the men prayed, some in Twi and others in English, Dr. Owusu prayed and specifically asked God remove my fears and anxieties about the trip. If I hadn't been there I'd say it was unbelievable. Now friends, I'm going to be vulnerable with you for a moment and tell you free of any embarrassment I cried during that prayer. This amazing experience was followed by last Sunday, when, without my knowing or anything specially noted in the church program, Concord Baptist Church where my family attends did the same thing with the only difference being it was Sunday night and the entire church came forward and prayed over me.
Some people ask for a sign so that they can know they are going the right way. I say if you are calm, quiet and still, you will see signs all around you, pointing you to where you should go. It took me weeks before I realized that my home church in Ghana, Calvary Baptist Church, bears the same name a little church in Alabama. The Calvary Baptist Church in Alabama was built long before I was born on land donated by my mother's family and was where my grandfather preached the good news of God's love now so many years ago. How incredible that without my hand in it at all a church in Ghana where I have never been would bear the same name and that that church would choose to invite me to come serve with them. This is the second part of this story where Dr. Cooper would tell you it's okay to say an "Amen."
Be sure to click "FOLLOW," it's that little button at the top right, just below the Ghanaian flag, that way you'll be notified by e-mail when I add a post to my blog! You can also follow me on Twitter, FaceBook and YouTube, all the links are right over there on the right hand side of your screen. Please watch my video on YouTube, it's called "Become the Change," username "Hope4Ghana."Check out the websites for Amazing Grace Baptist Church, Concord Baptist Church (Mr. Mike is an Internet wizard!), Calvary Baptist Church - Adenta and the Ghana Baptist Association. I urge you to follow me on all the networking sites I'm a part of so that you can pray with me, celebrate with me and follow my exciting journey as I serve the people of Ghana, W. Africa!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Oh, You are Kwame...
Why am I going to Ghana? Who is Kwame?
Ah, to be a new blogger and know the joys of realizing important bits were left out of one's very first blog! Since I was very young I have been fascinated by Africa. I was always excited to watch shows about Africa, read books about Africa and listen to music from Africa. Africa was in my heart before I even recognized its pull on my life. I dismissed my interest in Africa as merely a hobby for years, and I lived my life much as you might be doing even now. I did various jobs over the years but never felt truly excited about what it was I was doing until right here, right now as I type to you right this very minute.
Why Ghana? This is perhaps the most frequently asked question I've had to field since I shared with you that I was going. I honestly cannot believe I failed to blog the answer in my first post! I will tell you what I tell everyone, I did not choose Ghana, Ghana chose me. Back in January, I shared with my family a desire to go to Africa to serve the least, the last and the lost. I recognized that there was a need, I acknowledged for the first time what the "Africa in my heart" had been telling me since I was a little boy. Thinking about going to serve the people of Africa is deceptively simple, I'll save you the time and tell you that many, many questions follow. I didn't know where I would go in Africa and I didn't know when I would go to Africa, I only knew that I really wanted to go. My father directed me to check some on-line resources like the International Mission Board and the Peace Corps. I checked with these and others and saw the volunteer needs I could apply for but I quickly grew discouraged. The volunteer needs were mainly for agricultural or irrigation specialists, English teachers and other areas of expertise and I simply didn't have the training or experience necessary. What's more, I still had my job as a 9-1-1 Communications Officer at the time and the volunteer needs were for twelve, twenty-four or thirty-six months, durations I knew I could never and would never get time off from work. So I put Africa back into the box of my heart for a while and then the days turned into weeks and it seemed as though going to Africa was just a confused dream.
One day sometime around March I received a call from an unfamiliar number. I answered the call and was greeted by an unfamiliar voice speaking with what would later become a very familiar accent.
"Hello, this is Boyd."
"Ah, Hello"
"Hello?"
"Hello, my name is Charles. Your dad is my professor."
"Oh, Hi! How are you? (still not knowing who this was)"
"Good. I am good. Your father has said you are going to Africa."
"Ugh. I'm trying to go."
"That is good. When are you going?"
"Aye yi yi. I don't know. Maybe the fall? Hopefully soon. Maybe around September if I can."
"Ah! That is good. Yes. Where are you going in Africa?"
"Ugh. I don't know yet. I'm looking at some websites that have volunteer jobs in Liberia, Niger and other countries but I don't know yet. All the needs are for farmers and stuff that I just don't know how to do, so hopefully I'll know soon."
"Wonderful. Have you thought about Ghana?"
"Umm, I think they may have listed Ghana. I don't know. (I didn't even know where Ghana was on a map)"
"Ah-hah. Well I am from Ghana."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Wow. That's really cool (I'm pretty sure I actually said it was "cool")"
"Ah-hah. Well I have spoken to my home church back in Ghana, and they would like to host you if you will go (to Ghana)."
I pulled my car over to the side of the road in disbelief. Could it really be that simple? All I had to do was say, "yes I'll go" and so I did. Saying yes in that moment changed my life forever and I am still humbled by the power of the experience. I have come to know the man that called me that day as my friend, my mentor and my Christian brother. I've included a picture of the man I've come to know as Kwame Owusu and his family. Pastor Charles Owusu, his wife Valentina and their children Julia, Priscilla and David have become my Ghanaian family here in the United States, they were the first Ghanaians I ever knowingly met and they are now my great friends.
Who is Kwame? First I need to tell you about the Akkan. Ghana basically has four ethno-linguistic groupings or "tribes," the largest by far is the Akkan. The Akkan people regard a person's soul to be linked to the day of the week on which one was born. Because of this tradition, most Ghanaians' first name is not a "given name," but one determined by the day on which they were born. It is the child's "second name" that is chosen by the parents eight days after birth, and it is usually the name of a respected family member. I must have been Ghanaian from birth because I was born on Saturday, so my name is Kwame, and my given name is Boyd, in honor of one of my father's closest friends! You have a Ghanaian Akkan name too!
Ghanaian Birth Day Names are:
I will never forget how incredibly excited the Ghanaians became when after several phone calls to my parents I discovered that I was born on a Saturday. Ghanaians seem to consider their "day name" somewhat like a sports team and when a new member is added and their particular name group grows by one member, it is reason for celebration!
So, what is your Ghanaian name? Message me and let me know!
Ye frewo sen? What is your name?
Ye fre me _______ My name is _______
Be sure to click "Follow" at the top right! You'll be the first to know when I've posted something new to my blog! I can't wait to share more with you soon! Your messages to me are among my life's true treasures!
Ah, to be a new blogger and know the joys of realizing important bits were left out of one's very first blog! Since I was very young I have been fascinated by Africa. I was always excited to watch shows about Africa, read books about Africa and listen to music from Africa. Africa was in my heart before I even recognized its pull on my life. I dismissed my interest in Africa as merely a hobby for years, and I lived my life much as you might be doing even now. I did various jobs over the years but never felt truly excited about what it was I was doing until right here, right now as I type to you right this very minute.
Why Ghana? This is perhaps the most frequently asked question I've had to field since I shared with you that I was going. I honestly cannot believe I failed to blog the answer in my first post! I will tell you what I tell everyone, I did not choose Ghana, Ghana chose me. Back in January, I shared with my family a desire to go to Africa to serve the least, the last and the lost. I recognized that there was a need, I acknowledged for the first time what the "Africa in my heart" had been telling me since I was a little boy. Thinking about going to serve the people of Africa is deceptively simple, I'll save you the time and tell you that many, many questions follow. I didn't know where I would go in Africa and I didn't know when I would go to Africa, I only knew that I really wanted to go. My father directed me to check some on-line resources like the International Mission Board and the Peace Corps. I checked with these and others and saw the volunteer needs I could apply for but I quickly grew discouraged. The volunteer needs were mainly for agricultural or irrigation specialists, English teachers and other areas of expertise and I simply didn't have the training or experience necessary. What's more, I still had my job as a 9-1-1 Communications Officer at the time and the volunteer needs were for twelve, twenty-four or thirty-six months, durations I knew I could never and would never get time off from work. So I put Africa back into the box of my heart for a while and then the days turned into weeks and it seemed as though going to Africa was just a confused dream.
One day sometime around March I received a call from an unfamiliar number. I answered the call and was greeted by an unfamiliar voice speaking with what would later become a very familiar accent.
"Hello, this is Boyd."
"Ah, Hello"
"Hello?"
"Hello, my name is Charles. Your dad is my professor."
"Oh, Hi! How are you? (still not knowing who this was)"
"Good. I am good. Your father has said you are going to Africa."
"Ugh. I'm trying to go."
"That is good. When are you going?"
"Aye yi yi. I don't know. Maybe the fall? Hopefully soon. Maybe around September if I can."
"Ah! That is good. Yes. Where are you going in Africa?"
"Ugh. I don't know yet. I'm looking at some websites that have volunteer jobs in Liberia, Niger and other countries but I don't know yet. All the needs are for farmers and stuff that I just don't know how to do, so hopefully I'll know soon."
"Wonderful. Have you thought about Ghana?"
"Umm, I think they may have listed Ghana. I don't know. (I didn't even know where Ghana was on a map)"
"Ah-hah. Well I am from Ghana."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Wow. That's really cool (I'm pretty sure I actually said it was "cool")"
"Ah-hah. Well I have spoken to my home church back in Ghana, and they would like to host you if you will go (to Ghana)."
I pulled my car over to the side of the road in disbelief. Could it really be that simple? All I had to do was say, "yes I'll go" and so I did. Saying yes in that moment changed my life forever and I am still humbled by the power of the experience. I have come to know the man that called me that day as my friend, my mentor and my Christian brother. I've included a picture of the man I've come to know as Kwame Owusu and his family. Pastor Charles Owusu, his wife Valentina and their children Julia, Priscilla and David have become my Ghanaian family here in the United States, they were the first Ghanaians I ever knowingly met and they are now my great friends.
Who is Kwame? First I need to tell you about the Akkan. Ghana basically has four ethno-linguistic groupings or "tribes," the largest by far is the Akkan. The Akkan people regard a person's soul to be linked to the day of the week on which one was born. Because of this tradition, most Ghanaians' first name is not a "given name," but one determined by the day on which they were born. It is the child's "second name" that is chosen by the parents eight days after birth, and it is usually the name of a respected family member. I must have been Ghanaian from birth because I was born on Saturday, so my name is Kwame, and my given name is Boyd, in honor of one of my father's closest friends! You have a Ghanaian Akkan name too!
Ghanaian Birth Day Names are:
Day................Male.......................Female
Sunday...............Kwasi............................Akosua, Asi, Ese
Monday..............Kwadwo, Kojo...............Adwoa, Ajao
Tuesday..............Kwabena, Kobina..........Abena, Araba
Wednesday.........Kwaku..........................Akua
Thursday............Yao, Ekow.....................Yaa
Friday.................Kofi..............................Afua, Afia, Efua
Saturday.............Kwame, Kwamena........Ama
I will never forget how incredibly excited the Ghanaians became when after several phone calls to my parents I discovered that I was born on a Saturday. Ghanaians seem to consider their "day name" somewhat like a sports team and when a new member is added and their particular name group grows by one member, it is reason for celebration!
So, what is your Ghanaian name? Message me and let me know!
Ye frewo sen? What is your name?
Ye fre me _______ My name is _______
Be sure to click "Follow" at the top right! You'll be the first to know when I've posted something new to my blog! I can't wait to share more with you soon! Your messages to me are among my life's true treasures!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
In the Beginning...
As you're reading this, you're probably wondering why I'm going to Africa, when I'm going, what I'll be doing when I get there and how you can become a part of it (see "Next Steps"). I have decided to listen to my heart and go to Ghana, West Africa for six months. While in Ghana, I'll be working with Calvary Baptist Church, located in Adenta, a municipality of Accra, the Ghanaian capital. The CBC Adenta family has invited me to come to Ghana to work with their youth group "The Overcomers" in an effort to develop and practice personal evangelism, lead intensive Bible study, conduct visitation and serve in several community outreach programs that supply clean drinking water, food, clothing and safe living structures to the rural and outlying areas of Ghana. My time in Ghana will change my life forever! It's my personal hope that this mission to Ghana will be the cornerstone of a mutually rewarding friendship between Christians in the United States and those in Ghana. Going forward, working together, we can change the world!
When:
Leave for Ghana:
- September 23, 2009
Return to U.S.:
- March 25, 2010
Where:
Ghana, West Africa
- Accra - Capital
- Adenta
- Teiman
- Aburi
- Awukugua
- Other Surrounding Areas of Need
What:
"A Working Faith"
- Water - providing clean, safe drinking water
- Food - preparation and serving of meals
- Clothes - gathering and supplying gently used clothing
- Shelter - constructing safe living structures
- "The Overcomers: More than Conquerors" - work with the youth at CBC Adenta, leading Bible studies, visitation, community outreach, field trips, etc.
- Evangelism - seek to feed the hungry hearts of the lost, confused and broken with how God's love has changed my life
- Growth - help CBC Adenta start a new church
How:
Cost: $7, 000
- Vaccinations: $627 - Yellow Fever, Meningococcal, Polio, Typhoid, MMR (booster), TDAP (tetanus, diptheria, pertussis), Hepatitis A, Hepatitis B
- Anti-Malarial Medication: $1,800 (approx. after taxes)
- Flight: $1,393.30 (actual purchase price will be posted soon)
- Visa: $110 (does not include secure mailing costs)
- Host Family Assistance: food, lodging, transportation and additional costs: $3,000 (six months), $500/month, $125/week, just about $20/day
- If you want to partner with me and support my mission to Ghana, see "Next Steps"
Next Steps:
- Pray - that God will prepare my heart, mind and body for the work that awaits me in Ghana
- Pray - that I might be used by God through my work to help create an unbreakable bond of friendship between Christians in the United States and those in Ghana
- Pray - that I will boldly share God's love as I work out my living faith
- Pray - that people like you will message me and volunteer to form my personal prayer circle, a devoted, committted group of friends who can promise to pray for me each and every day without fail for the entire time I am in Ghana
- Pray - that God will provide me with emotional strength, spiritual courage and a humble and content heart so that I can be as "one beggar showing another beggar where to find bread"
- Follow me - subscribe to my blog and share my adventures with your family, friends and church. Click on the "Follow" button at the top right. You'll be the first to know when there are new posts to the blog!
- Become a Partner - you can make a one time, weekly or monthly gift to support my mission in Ghana
- All donations should be made out to:
- Concord Baptist Church
- "Ghana Mission"
- 6905 Concord Road
- Cumming, GA 30028
- Ph.- (770) 888-9454
- Donations are tax deductible
- Donations of any amount are welcome
- Please clearly mark all donations for "Ghana"
I look forward to sharing more with you as the days grow short and the date of my departure draws near! Look for a "Ghana at a Glance" blog to be posted soon with some interesting facts I want you to know!
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