The Work Moves On.....but oh so slowly!

Our task is to help and support the missionaries in Sunyani and to train and instruct the new native members here so they will be able to administer the Church themselves as they grow.  We have four branches now; Fiapre formally became designated as a Branch last Sunday.  It is really exciting to see the Church grow and how spiritual the new converts are and how humble and devoted these people are as they are moving forward in the Gospel.

We've been a District for six weeks and still can't get the local bank and the Area Office in Accra to figure out a bank account.  We have leased a new building and are trying to get it ready to house the new District office and four missionaries.  Because our mission is splitting on July 1, all efforts are going into getting the new mission home finished in Kumasi and an apartment ready for a new senior couple who will be arriving shortly to work in the office there.  As soon as the dust settles, we'll be able to concentrate on finishing our building here in Sunyani.

Just this last year the mission office used to put new Elders, sometime all alone, on a bus and send them up here.  Sunyani is pretty isolated.  Elder Belnap, one of our favorite young men, was a brand new missionary and his first night out of the MTC, they loaded him on a bus at night, headed for Sunyani.  They told him to get off at the last stop and that someone would be there to meet him.  Little did anyone know that the bus driver decided since most of the people had gotten off at the various stops along the way, and he wanted to go home early, he told Elder Belnap to get off and that they were  at the last stop.  It was in the middle of nowhere.  Elder Belnap is a very big, strong, quiet and polite young man from Idaho.  For a brand new missionary, he showed a lot of fortitude, knew that this wasn't the right stop, sat back in his seat and softly said, "No."  Finally, after a long argument, the bus driver finally took him to the proper stop.  Had the Elder been intimidated and gotten off, they might never have found him, as the missionaries never carried phones or much money and even though they say English is the official language in Ghana, most everyone speaks Twi or some other native dialect or a version of English that's not recognizable.  We now don't put Elders on the buses alone and we are trying to arrange for them to have transport telephones.

When we arrived all of the four chapels were in awful shape--overrun with weeds, garbage strewn all about, in dire need of paint, etc.  Actually, they were about normal for Africa, but President Thayne has made it his own personal crusade to fix up and clean the chapels and their properties so they look like the temple grounds.  It's a long process and we're not there yet, but we've made tremendous improvements.  The weeds have been "whacked" down with machetes and the painting has begun.  Elder Otagba, a Nigerian missionary, personally whacked the weeds at his building and then had all of us help to plant corn.  Now it's coming up.  We've got the grass looking much like a park at Fiapre and the missionaries are fixing poles to use with a volleyball net to use as a fellowshipping and missionary tool for all the people who live around that area.

The District Choir is up and running and we're having leadership training for all of the auxiliaries.  The members want activities.  Remember, there are few TV's, no movie houses, and there's really nothing for them to do.  The volleyball court will help, and we're trying to find a basketball standard to put at one of the other chapels and hopefully a table tennis table.  We're even trying to form a social event like "Minute To Win It" for the young single adults.

Last week when we returned from Accra, we learned that one of the branches had sustained a 14 year old boy named Chris as Young Men's President and his counselor was an eleven year old.  I'm not sure how we're going to fix that one!

The Area Presidency in Accra sent some lovely people to have a day long seminar on Family History.  The only problem is that Africans don't write anything down and most Ghanaians don't have a clue when or where their parents were born or sometimes even what their names are.  We've found countless documents listing birthdays as January 1, which is what they put down when they don't know.  We did have over 60 people at the seminar and they were trying their best to learn.  We have to start somewhere and now at least the people who were there know it's important to keep records.

The future of Ghana and Africa is their children.  During the last few years the government has stated that the kids are all supposed to go to school--some don't, but many do and they are learning to speak and write English.  They are the hope for Sunyani and the Church in Africa.

Market Day in Ghana

Every city and even the smallest of towns in Ghana have a market day.  Some of the larger ones take place all week long, but most happen on a specific day of the week.  They range in size from a few blocks to literally acres and acres.  In Sunyani market day is every Wednesday, all year long, and covers about 20 acres.  Market is the big social event of the week.  During the rest of the time, the wooden shacks and makeshift bamboo canopies look like skeletons and are eerily silent except for a few stragglers on the street front corners.  Then it begins.  Early, before the sun is even up, vendors, people from all the neighboring villages, and townsfolk are busy moving, hauling, and transporting wares of everything imaginable.  By 7 a.m., they're in full swing.  It is difficult to describe and is a total overload for all the senses.

The sprawling total chaos takes on a labyrintine aspect and little stalls spill out in every direction.  Narrow  passageways link section to section as the natives try to sell or bartar all kinds of goods:  clothing (some new-most used), textiles, plastic goods, jewelry, pottery, metal, automotive supplies, household items, fufu pounding sticks and bowls, sandals and shoes, and tons more.  We've decided that all of the goods that are rejects from around the world, are sent to Africa to be sold at their markets. 

Countless food and produce stalls are clustered in a haphazard manor and spill out in every direction.  Small plastic tarps are laid out on the ground, and sometimes no tarps, where tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, cabbage and vegetables of every kind are piled high.  Melons are placed in huge stacks and mounds of the staple cassava roots are sometimes over six feet high.  Huge live snails, the size of softballs and considered quite a delicacy, slowly wiggle and worm around in their baskets as their seller constantly pulls them back. Bins and tables are piled high with smoked dead fish--heads, eyes, fins and tails, shriveled and with a stench that is so intense and foul, it makes one gag.  Yet it is one of the favorites for stuffing the local natives' meat pies.  Dead grass-cutters (large, grizzled-brown rodent-rats) are prized as bush meat and are hung on sticks, ready for the fufu stew.  There are stacks of rice, and barrels of flour and cornmeal, and all kinds of fruits.  The papayas, mangoes, and pineapples here are marvelous.

The stench and smells are overpowering, and walking through the maze one encounters aromas of sweet, foul, rotten, musty, smokey, and spicey along with human sweat and the intense cologne the Africans wear to cover body odor.  Flies are abundant as young men throw meat and chicken onto makeshift barbeques made from old metal barrels cut in half.  Dead goats are hauled in by wheelbarrows and I almost fell into a cart loaded with an entire cow's head.

The variety of sounds make the entire scene even more hectic.  Africans love loud noises and they have boom boxes cranked to deafening levels and preachers and politicians rant and rave over loud speakers as chickens squwak and the vendors yell back and forth at each other in Twi.  It is mass confusion.......and they love it!  Then at night, they take down, pack up their goods, go home and begin getting ready for next week.

Up the Volta River Without a Paddle--or a Lifejacket!

Our retreat with the other senior missionaries continued and the next morning we all met at the MTC for breakfast, before piling into the temple mini-vans and heading for the Volta River.  Lake Volta is the largest lake in the world formed by a man-made dam.  Our destination was some small islands located below the dam where the river meets the ocean.  There are no amenities whatsoever on these islands and they are inhabited by small tribes of Africans who live much today as they did centuries ago.

We arrived at the dock and waiting for us was a large canoe-looking boat in terrible shape, powered by a very small, rusty motor attached with wire to the back.  We all climbed in, two abreast, and the boatman pushed off.  It was after we were a quite a distance from the shore that we noticed there were no paddles on this boat as well as no life jackets.  The tiny motor sputtered and groaned and most of us were uneasy.  Remember, nothing in Africa works well, and everything breaks down.  The river where we were was quite wide and two of the women could not swim.  We watched the natives fishing and diving for crabs, and finally reached our destination--a small island inhabited by a few hundred tribesmen and their families.

A young man named Chris and his assistant Jen accompanied us.  They work for a company named "Empower Playgrounds".  Children of rural, third world communities have generally never seen playground equipment.  They also rarely have electricity in their homes or schools.  This company has created an incredible, viable solution for these two problems: electricity-generating playground equipment.  As the children play on the equipment (a merry-go-round or swing set with a glider), a generator in the equipment converts a portion of their kinetic energy to electricity.  A large battery stores the electricity, which is used to recharge smart LED lanterns.  The children can then use the lanterns to light their classrooms and homes for studying and reading.

Dr. Todd Fife and his wife Michelle are the medical team for all of West Africa.  They are simply amazing!  They have a small clinic on this island and brought soccor balls and small toys for the kids.  We visited one more island before heading back to shore and our vehicles.

The next day we went to a baboon preserve.  The monkeys didn't come out but we hiked to a bat cave and watched antelope and ostriches.  We parted ways and headed back to our perspective areas--Sunyani being the furthest away and the most remote.  We all agreed the islands and the playground equipment were some of the most uplifting, remarkable things we have seen. It was amazing and humbling to see how some of these people are being helped by modern technology, even as they live in the most primitive of circumstances.

Traffic Trauma

All roads in Ghana are covered by a variety of public transport divisible into three categories:  buses, taxis and tro-tros--none of which are particularly safe.  Each city has a "station" where all public transport leaves and arrives.  Around these stations are hundreds of the little shops with their shopkeepers selling, bartering and just plain hanging out.  The buses are just that--big buses, some of which appear to be very modern, but most look like World War I vintage.

Little mini-taxis are everywhere and account for 80% of all the vehicles on the road.  They are just plain buggy, and honking the horn and using all kinds of hand gestures out the window, are the rule.  Everyone uses them as there are very few private vehicles such as ours, and they are as economical as they are numerous.  One way trips across town (if on the main road) cost 50 pesewas (about 35 cents). Many of these taxis have been converted to propane as gasoline (called petrol) is so expensive.  About once a month the propane supplies run out and hundreds of the taxis just park all around the station and up and down the street and simply wait (hang out--sometimes for days) for the supply tanker of propane to come in.

"Tro-tro" is a catch-all term for all kinds of over-crowded mini-buses or vans.  With densely packed seating, a pervasive aura of sweat, and an incredible amount of luggage, farm produce and even cows, pigs, and goats are shoved in the back or strapped to the top.  They pack people in the tro-tros much like the days of seeing how many could squeeze into a phone booth.  Sometimes up to 30-35 people in a 12 passenger van.  It's amazing how they can cram people, luggage, whatever into a vehicle.  Road accidents occur with alarming frequency in Ghana, partially due to the horrific driving habits of the operators and partially due to the terrible state almost all of the vehicles on the road are in (no tail lights or break lights, doors tied on with ropes or string, broken windows, etc.).  When a vehicle breaks down, which is often, they simply leave it where it stands, in the middle of the road or wherever, and then they fix it when they get enough money or time.

Our mission is going to be split on July 1, 2012.  We will stay in Sunyani and be part of the new Ghana Kumasi Mission.  President Shulz, who will stay as president of the Cape Coast Mission, invited all of the senior missionaries serving now, to a couple's retreat for a get-to-gether for one last time.  We were to meet in Accra for a 2-4 day event.

We first travelled to Kumasi (2 hours away) to meet the Zolls.  Since we were still not too familiar with Kumasi, Elder Zoll said to meet him at the roundabout at Sofaline--a section of the city that's on the same road we drive in on, but has been under construction forever.

The best way to describe the roundabout at Sofaline is to compare it to when you are at the lake, on the pier, and throw bread crumbs into the water and watch the large carp go crazy, churning the water and going every which way.  That's what the traffic's like.  When we drove up, we could see someone in a white shirt standing in the middle of all the chaos.  It was Zoll, trying to get our attention in all that mess.  As soon as we reached into the intersection, he skittered between the vehicles and ran to his car and we followed him out of the area to their apartment, where we parked our car, and then began the long drive to Acca together.  The Zolls are great fun and we were excited to spend some time with them and not having to concentrate on every word just to understand what's being said.

The trip was progressing nicely and we talked and laughed until we came upon a tro-tro that had been in an accident and was pulled off to the side of the road.  Traffic was slowed to a snail's pace.  As we approached the wreck, we noticed the front windshield was shattered.  Then I looked to the side of the road, right next to our truck, and saw the dead body of a pretty young woman, her head smashed in and eyes staring straight up.  People were paying no attention and they hadn't even bothered to close her eyes or cover her body.  She was just laid out on the pavement.  It so unnerved me I couldn't really get over it for quite a while.  Life and death are such a regular occurance here, that it is regarded as just an every day, natural event.  We finally got through the traffic pile-up and proceeded to Accra without any further trauma.

Gary and Bud Zoll dropped us with the other senior missionaries who had come in the other way from Cape Coast, and then they left to go check us in at the apartment we would be staying in on the temple grounds.  They were forever returning and had been stopped for supposedly running a red light by the police.  The bailout started at 1,000 cedis because they were obrunis and obrunis are supposed to have lots of money.  They talked and pleaded and said they were just poor missionaries, and got off paying 50 cedis.

Such are the traffic woes in Ghana! 

MORE PHOTOS!

Music To Our Ears

The one thing I didn't think we would have to worry about in Africa was musical ability.  Almost every African-American I know has incredible rhythm and is tremendously gifted when it comes to any kind of  music:  singing, dancing, playing any kind of musical instrument, etc.

The first shock came when we discovered that the only person in all four branches here in Sunyani that plays the piano is Elder Brown from Dallas, Texas.  All of the branches have been sent really nice elaborate keyboards for their chapels, but no one knows how to play.  Elder Brown goes home the middle of June--BIG PROBLEM!

The way they lead the music and sing hymns is quite unique.  Someone (a missionary, a person in the audience, the chorister) attempts to sing the first two lines of the song to hopefully get everyone in the audience familiar with the tune.  Then the chorister, who really doesn't know how to lead but rather just waves his or her hand back and forth, says, "One, two, sing," and they all start singing, usually way too slow with long pauses between verses or even measures.  If that's not bad enough, the majority of the voices are loud, way off-key, flat and sharp, and with absolutely no rhythm.  The first time we experienced it we were in Fiapre.  It wasn't bad--it was horrible; but they all sing at the top of their lungs.  Both Gary and I didn't even dare look at each other for fear of laughing out loud it was so bad.  They try so hard and they're not at all uncomfortable with just blurting it out.

One of the first things on our goals for the new district is to improve the entire area in the music department.  Where is Jane and Gary Lambert when we need them?  We started looking for someone, anyone, in Sunyani that we could hire to give piano lessons to a couple of members from each branch.  We figure that the keyboard with even a one-hand accompaniment might help in the melody department. 

President Mintah, Gary's first counselor in the district, is a young Ghanaian who served a mission several years ago and then taught at the MTC in Accra for a while.  He's very talented and has great ideas.  He also put on the goal list that we form a district choir. (Oh, heaven forbid!)  So the search is on for a choir director as well.

Then the miracle happened.  Last week, an army officer, out of the blue, attended the Sacrament Meeting of the Penkwase Branch.  He told the missionaries that he was a member but had been inactive for many years.  The missionaries got his phone number and asked President Thayne to call him and perhaps go meet him to reinforce his desire to come to church.  Gary called him and he said, "Yes, I know who you are--I see you and your wife all the time driving in your white truck."  Wow, we can't go or do anything without being noticed by everyone!

He invited us to come and visit him at his home in the Barracks (army compound).  Foreigner are not allowed in the compound but because this man is an officer (intelligence) he made arrangments and said he would escort us in and we could visit him in his home.  He met us at the gate and told the armed guards we were with him.  Then he took us through the huge, wooded, clean grounds to the married officers' quarters.  The missionaries couldn't believe it--they said they have never seen foreigners allowed even past the gate.

We went to his very modest (but nice for Sunyani) little house and met his wife Belta and his two little daughters, Anna-4 and Beverly-2.  The wife is a non-member and reluctantly agreed to have the missionaries teach her the lessons.  Then we noticed a keyboard in the corner of the room.  Daniel, the officer, said he used to play many years ago in his ward in Accra, but that he was really rusty now.  He said he loved music, sang bass, and had been in the process of organizing an area choir there in Accra, but had been transferred before it had really got going.  We couldn't believe our ears!  We told him he was a miracle--an answer to prayer.  It was unbelievable, that here we were struggling to find anyone who could help us with the music and choir and then he just appears at church out of the blue!  Miracles do happen!

The Road To Chiraa

Every Thursday morning, we pick up two of our Elders and drive thirty minutes north of town to a little village called Chiraa.  The road is horrible most of the way and filled with crater-sized potholes.  We began teaching a funny little guy named Richard.  He has a small "shop" on the main street.  It's like most of the stores in Sunyani, made from a rusty old metal container, about a 10 x 10, and filled with anything and everything they can get their hands on to possibly sell to passersby.  Whenever we would get there, he would just close it down and then we would teach him under the overhang porch of the building behind.  The traffic and big trucks barrelling through the town made it quite noisy and the flies drive us nutz, but he is so eager to learn.

After a few weeks and lessons, two more people, Portia and Albert, joined us.  The following week our little group of investigators had grown to seven and we had to move into a crude patio area in a compound behind.  It's much better and and we can actually hear and understand some of what is being said.  Now one of the older gentlemen who has joined us wants us to teach his grown children and grandchildren as well.

It's truly a testimony-builder to watch the gospel in action.  We sit on crude wooden benches, over-turned 5 gallon buckets or anything that's available.  The people are so humble.  They know their Bibles inside and out and are very religious, even the young people.  It really helps because we can truly teach the lessons and doctrine based on scripture because they are so knowledgable.  Several of them have even been paying for taxis back into Sunyani to attend Church on Sunday.

Richard and Albert have set their baptism dates for June 10, and starting next week, the missionaries will travel to Chiraa each Sunday and have Sunday School in a school so they can teach more people.  We are hoping when the mission splits in July, we will be opening new areas for missionaries and Chiraa would be at the top of our list.