President and Sister Holmes invited us and the other senior missionaries to an overnight stay at the mission home in Kumasi for a workshop on health training. The women senior missionaries are primarily responsible for overseeing the medical needs of all of the missionaries. It's a huge responsibility and can mean life or death in such a primitive part of the country. Dr. Fife and his wife Michelle drove in from Accra to conduct the seminar and train us on how to handle some of the health issues, some of which can be fatal.
We had a very informative session and then enjoyed a wonderful dinner together before retiring. The new mission home is lovely, but like Nkwabeng, it is much like a prison compound with barbed wire atop huge walls surrounded by very poor shabby huts.
We left the next morning and just a few miles out of Kumasi our little truck started to sputter and jerk. We decided not to turn back but to try to get home. It was somewhat frightening, because you really don't want to have car trouble out on the jungle roads. We limped it along and finally got home. Owusu (bless that man) met us and took us to the "Magazine". We could never figure out what they were talking about and thought it was a magazine they ordered automobile parts from. We found out that the Magazine is an area of town where hundreds of little shops are clumped together selling all kinds of automotive items (mostly used) and with handymen and mechanics who work on cars. It looks like something out of Mad Max! There's everything: mufflers stacked in piles as high as buildings, old rusted out engines, tires and wheels, wrecked vehicles, welding, grease pots, and everything else related to cars and trucks. The entire area is filthy, grimy and covered with grease. It only took about an hour and Owusu's mechanic friend had solved the problem--fuel filter was clogged. (Not surprising since we had been driving in Kumasi on all of their construction dirt roads.)
We then got a call from the Elders at Fiapre. Dr. Fife had showed us pictures and had told us in our health seminar that the beautiful florescent green snake Gary and I had seen and admired on our morning walk, was indeed a green mamba. If you are bitten by a green mamba, you basically have 20 minutes until you die. I guess we'll be watching where we are walking in the jungle a little more closely from now on. The Elders at Fiapre have killed two snakes since we have been here, and while we were gone, they had discovered another snake INSIDE their building under a towel. The African Elders are literally terrified of snakes and now we know why--they can kill you! One good note, the black mamba isn't quite as lethal as the green mamba. Their bite isn't as fatal and if you can get to a hospital immediately and if the hospital has anti-venom, you might only lose a limb. However, Sunyani Hospital doesn't carry anti-venom so it doesn't really much matter.
Even though we don't think the snake they found was a mamba, we will be fumigating their building next week and the missionaries will have to have a "sleepover" with the other Elders in the District Office for a couple of nights until the air clears.
Oh, the joys of living in a jungle!
Friday, July 27, 2012
A Sad Day for Ghana
On July 25, 2012, the President of Ghana, John Atta Mills, unexpectantly died in an Accra hospital from complications resulting from cancer. He was running for re-election which takes place this coming December. Four years ago, Mills won the Presidency over Nana Akufo-Addo by a margin of less than 1% after a second round of voting. They were running against each other again this year. Mills was very bright, educated in the US and Britain, and this upcoming election looked to be as close and competitive as it was in December of 2008.
The entire country is shaken up. Although some publicly cheered, most Ghanaians, regardless of politics, mourned the loss of a great leader.
As we were discussing his death with some of the missionaries and expressing our sympathy, Elder Sarpong, who is from a small town just outside of Accra, made a startling observation. If the President had been assassinated or died because of the actions on the part of a caucasion, the political outrage among the Ghanaians would put every white person's life in danger. I guess it wouldn't be so different from America where many Muslims were threatened after 9/11.
We have now initiated a new emeergency plan for our missionaries here in Sunyani. In case of a disaster--political or environmental--all of our Elders are to get to the District Office as quickly as possible and bring with them all of the food that they have on hand. (Which isn't very much!) We would then secure the building compound and then make the necessary arrangements to get aid or get all of us to safety. It's good to have a plan just in case.
The country is handling Mills' death with remorse and dignity and is demonstrating how much Ghana has grown since its independence. It is heartbreaking to see the sadness brought by the loss of their President. Here in Ghana we are watching as history unfolds and a new chapter will be written in the pages of Ghana's democracy.
The entire country is shaken up. Although some publicly cheered, most Ghanaians, regardless of politics, mourned the loss of a great leader.
As we were discussing his death with some of the missionaries and expressing our sympathy, Elder Sarpong, who is from a small town just outside of Accra, made a startling observation. If the President had been assassinated or died because of the actions on the part of a caucasion, the political outrage among the Ghanaians would put every white person's life in danger. I guess it wouldn't be so different from America where many Muslims were threatened after 9/11.
We have now initiated a new emeergency plan for our missionaries here in Sunyani. In case of a disaster--political or environmental--all of our Elders are to get to the District Office as quickly as possible and bring with them all of the food that they have on hand. (Which isn't very much!) We would then secure the building compound and then make the necessary arrangements to get aid or get all of us to safety. It's good to have a plan just in case.
The country is handling Mills' death with remorse and dignity and is demonstrating how much Ghana has grown since its independence. It is heartbreaking to see the sadness brought by the loss of their President. Here in Ghana we are watching as history unfolds and a new chapter will be written in the pages of Ghana's democracy.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
It's a Bug's Life!
There are zillions......and zillions of bugs in Africa: big ones, tiny ones, fat ones,and skinny ones; crawling, flying, skeetering, hopping, slithering, and scurrying; every kind imaginable and some you could never even imagine. Yesterday there was a stick hanging on our patio railing. When Gary told me it was an insect I didn't believe him. Then I looked closer. Sure enough, it had two beady little eyes but other than that it looked EXACTLY like a twig. We see lots of earthworm-looking bugs, except they have lots of tiny little legs like centipedes. They are anywhere from 4 to 5 inches long and about as big around as Gary's thumb. The butterflies are numerous and we even saw a florescent bright green snake on one of our morning walks--but that's not an insect.
We share our apartment with bugs. It's supposed to be somewhat airtight and we have screens at every window (which are never opened anyway), and yet, somehow, every morning we wake up to bugs of all kinds in every window sill, in every room, and all over the floors. We have even taped some of the windows all around the sills and openings, but to no avail. When we lived in Nkwabeng, they didn't really show up as much because the floor was a painted speckled cement, much like garage floors at home. But here in our new apartment, the white and grey marble floors show everything. So every morning we either sweep or vacuum the residue of bugs left from the night before.
Because all of the compounds have bright security lights that are turned on every evening and off at dawn, the bright lights attract the bugs. Especially after a storm, there are literally thousands and thousands piled outside under the lights.
When we go on our morning walks, they are everywhere. Some are actually really interesting. Most are just annoying. The mosquitos don't bother Gary much, but they seem to love my skin, so I am constantly itching. Because malaria is contracted from a mosquito bite, we take a "doxy" (doxycycline) pill every morning. It isn't 100% effective, but it's supposed to help with the severity if you do contract malaria. The pills sometimes make you a little dizzy and they initiate the most unusual and weird dreams. The malaria-carrying mosquitos only come out at night, so we lather up in bug spray if we are out after dark.
Potty Talk: African bathrooms (if you have a bathroom) are called "washrooms" and are really unique. They are a series of three rooms. The first is kind of a parlor or entry. Most of these are at least a 6 x 8 or 9 and have a sink with a mirror. But remember you can't get any water into your mouth, so we also have to have a bottle of purified water on the sink so we can brush our teeth. Off of this room, there is a step up and over and two long rooms adjoining it. One is for a large walk-in shower with two shower heads, and the other is for the toilet. The sink area is relatively, but not completely, bug-free. The other two are disasters! I have to take the hand-held shower head and rinse all the bugs down the drain each morning before showering. I refuse to share the shower with any bug.
The toilet area is another matter. African toilet paper is just a step up from from fine grade sandpaper and the inside cardboard tube is twice as big as at home, so you have half as much paper on a roll. If we ever get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, we are careful to check before going, because the toilet room always has an assortment of all kinds of critters, flying, crawling, or just the creepy kind.
All in all, I'm quite proud of the adjustment I've made in the bug area. Before coming to Africa, even the sight of a tiny bug would freak me out. Now, they're just an irritation--no big deal. It's amazing how one's perspective can change, especially if there's no other alternative but to relax and accept the inevitable.
We share our apartment with bugs. It's supposed to be somewhat airtight and we have screens at every window (which are never opened anyway), and yet, somehow, every morning we wake up to bugs of all kinds in every window sill, in every room, and all over the floors. We have even taped some of the windows all around the sills and openings, but to no avail. When we lived in Nkwabeng, they didn't really show up as much because the floor was a painted speckled cement, much like garage floors at home. But here in our new apartment, the white and grey marble floors show everything. So every morning we either sweep or vacuum the residue of bugs left from the night before.
Because all of the compounds have bright security lights that are turned on every evening and off at dawn, the bright lights attract the bugs. Especially after a storm, there are literally thousands and thousands piled outside under the lights.
When we go on our morning walks, they are everywhere. Some are actually really interesting. Most are just annoying. The mosquitos don't bother Gary much, but they seem to love my skin, so I am constantly itching. Because malaria is contracted from a mosquito bite, we take a "doxy" (doxycycline) pill every morning. It isn't 100% effective, but it's supposed to help with the severity if you do contract malaria. The pills sometimes make you a little dizzy and they initiate the most unusual and weird dreams. The malaria-carrying mosquitos only come out at night, so we lather up in bug spray if we are out after dark.
Potty Talk: African bathrooms (if you have a bathroom) are called "washrooms" and are really unique. They are a series of three rooms. The first is kind of a parlor or entry. Most of these are at least a 6 x 8 or 9 and have a sink with a mirror. But remember you can't get any water into your mouth, so we also have to have a bottle of purified water on the sink so we can brush our teeth. Off of this room, there is a step up and over and two long rooms adjoining it. One is for a large walk-in shower with two shower heads, and the other is for the toilet. The sink area is relatively, but not completely, bug-free. The other two are disasters! I have to take the hand-held shower head and rinse all the bugs down the drain each morning before showering. I refuse to share the shower with any bug.
The toilet area is another matter. African toilet paper is just a step up from from fine grade sandpaper and the inside cardboard tube is twice as big as at home, so you have half as much paper on a roll. If we ever get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, we are careful to check before going, because the toilet room always has an assortment of all kinds of critters, flying, crawling, or just the creepy kind.
All in all, I'm quite proud of the adjustment I've made in the bug area. Before coming to Africa, even the sight of a tiny bug would freak me out. Now, they're just an irritation--no big deal. It's amazing how one's perspective can change, especially if there's no other alternative but to relax and accept the inevitable.
The Unique Akan Culture
The Akans are the most numerically significant ethno-linguistic group in Ghana. Every Akan village has its chief. Throughout Ghana, the power of the chief is denoted by his possession of the royal stool (chair) which is typically made of wood. These chiefs are referred to as to having been enstooled when they ascend to power, and destooled should they lose that position. It is customary in Akan societies, as well as in other parts of Ghana, for visitors to a village to pay their respects to the chief, a custom that is still enforced in some of the smaller towns. We visited Odamse, a small suburb-village on the outskirts of Sunyani, and were invited to meet with the chief. This was quite an honor, as the chiefs actually still have the final say in what goes on in their community and really are more powerful than government officials.
We were escorted into a small room, the perimeter of which was lined with chairs and the ceiling had pictures of the chief meeting with all kinds of celebrities and public officials. At the front of the room was a larger chair--the "stool". The chief was very gracious and seemed genuinely pleased that the obrunis were visiting with him. He apologized that he was not in his ceremonial robe. They wear long robes, thrown over one shoulder and reaching to the ground for official appearances. We assured him that it was fine. He then showed us his stool which he was extremely proud of and told us several times that he was the all-powerful person in Odamase. It was a truly fascinating experience.
A few days ago, President Owusu told us that we were to go to a funeral with him. This is highly unusual--obrunis don't go to the funerals. In fact, we are told to stay away from large public gatherings and the funerals in Ghana are the biggest of the public gatherings. They are vibrant and colorful and huge! Unusually, Ghanaian societies tend to seperate the burial ceremony from the actual funeral--generally by at least three months, but sometimes as long as two years! They just keep the body on ice. The actual burial is generally a quiet and dignified moment, though often preceded by wailing and singing. Their caskets are amazing! Many are carved to resemble things the deceased liked and can look like birds, airplanes, boats, and almost anything. These outrageous caskets are seen along the roadside in the little carpentry shops. Along the highways, they also place billboards with the deceased picture and birth date and date of death and something like "gone but not forgotten".
The funeral itself is usually held on Saturday and the general tone is one of celebration rather than mourning, marked by exuberant drumming and dancing. We picked Owusu up on Saturday afternoon, and headed for the funeral of the brother of one of the members of Owusu's branch. He felt it would be good for us to pay our respects. Everyone attending funerals wears black or dark red gowns and robes. They are beautifully made of gorgeous fabrics. Several tents and canopies filled the entire dirt road for many blocks, and we parked down the street and walked in. We absolutely stand out like bright lights in the dark and I'm certain they had never seen a white person at a Ghanaian funeral before. It seemed there were thousands of eyes watching our every move. Thank goodness, Owusu was there and we just followed his lead.
There were lots of loud music and drumming, being amplified over several large deafening speakers. A few young men were gyrating and dancing like Michael Jackson, as we approached the tents. We stopped at the first tent and they introduced over the speakers who we were. All along the perimeters of the tents were lined three rows of chairs. The important people, all in their ceremonial garb, sat in the first row, then the less important people in the next middle row and then just guests were in the back. After we were announced, we proceeded to walk down the rows of chairs and shake hands and greet all of the important, immediate family members (who number in the hundreds). Almost all of them seemed very curious as to who we were, but they also seemed genuinely pleased that we had come to pay our respects. After greeting many, many people, we were led to a front row seat. This was very surprising! A few minutes later, the brother we had come to see, left his seat in the front row and brought a young woman over to us. We were told that we were to follow her into the courtyard, which was reserved for only immediate family.
We followed her into an adjoining building off of the street, where we were told to sit. We did so. Then they came up and offered us mineral waters and skewered chicken lizards with onions and green peppers. It would have been really rude and offensive to refuse, so we obliged. I asked Owusu if it was "fire in the mouth", which is what we call Ghanaian food as it is ALWAYS really hot and spicy. He assured me that it was not, so I very timidly bit off a piece of gizzard. MISTAKE! It was truly "fire in the mouth" and as tough as shoe leather. I managed to choke it down as Gary was chuckling under his breath. We then quietly passed our skewers to Owusu who devoured them and loved the extra treat. Owusu then told us that we were to pay money to help the family afford the whole extravaganza as there were hundreds and hundreds of people there and the gizzards alone must have numbered in the thousands. We took the money to a gentleman at the front who gave us a kind of receipt. Then that was taken to the guy with the microphone and as we left, we heard him announcing how much each person donated.
It was an amazing and unique experience! On attending this Ghanaian funeral, we couldn't help but feel a convincing belief that they truly believe in some sort of afterlife. We loved the celebration of a life rather than a tearful goodbye.
We were escorted into a small room, the perimeter of which was lined with chairs and the ceiling had pictures of the chief meeting with all kinds of celebrities and public officials. At the front of the room was a larger chair--the "stool". The chief was very gracious and seemed genuinely pleased that the obrunis were visiting with him. He apologized that he was not in his ceremonial robe. They wear long robes, thrown over one shoulder and reaching to the ground for official appearances. We assured him that it was fine. He then showed us his stool which he was extremely proud of and told us several times that he was the all-powerful person in Odamase. It was a truly fascinating experience.
A few days ago, President Owusu told us that we were to go to a funeral with him. This is highly unusual--obrunis don't go to the funerals. In fact, we are told to stay away from large public gatherings and the funerals in Ghana are the biggest of the public gatherings. They are vibrant and colorful and huge! Unusually, Ghanaian societies tend to seperate the burial ceremony from the actual funeral--generally by at least three months, but sometimes as long as two years! They just keep the body on ice. The actual burial is generally a quiet and dignified moment, though often preceded by wailing and singing. Their caskets are amazing! Many are carved to resemble things the deceased liked and can look like birds, airplanes, boats, and almost anything. These outrageous caskets are seen along the roadside in the little carpentry shops. Along the highways, they also place billboards with the deceased picture and birth date and date of death and something like "gone but not forgotten".
The funeral itself is usually held on Saturday and the general tone is one of celebration rather than mourning, marked by exuberant drumming and dancing. We picked Owusu up on Saturday afternoon, and headed for the funeral of the brother of one of the members of Owusu's branch. He felt it would be good for us to pay our respects. Everyone attending funerals wears black or dark red gowns and robes. They are beautifully made of gorgeous fabrics. Several tents and canopies filled the entire dirt road for many blocks, and we parked down the street and walked in. We absolutely stand out like bright lights in the dark and I'm certain they had never seen a white person at a Ghanaian funeral before. It seemed there were thousands of eyes watching our every move. Thank goodness, Owusu was there and we just followed his lead.
There were lots of loud music and drumming, being amplified over several large deafening speakers. A few young men were gyrating and dancing like Michael Jackson, as we approached the tents. We stopped at the first tent and they introduced over the speakers who we were. All along the perimeters of the tents were lined three rows of chairs. The important people, all in their ceremonial garb, sat in the first row, then the less important people in the next middle row and then just guests were in the back. After we were announced, we proceeded to walk down the rows of chairs and shake hands and greet all of the important, immediate family members (who number in the hundreds). Almost all of them seemed very curious as to who we were, but they also seemed genuinely pleased that we had come to pay our respects. After greeting many, many people, we were led to a front row seat. This was very surprising! A few minutes later, the brother we had come to see, left his seat in the front row and brought a young woman over to us. We were told that we were to follow her into the courtyard, which was reserved for only immediate family.
We followed her into an adjoining building off of the street, where we were told to sit. We did so. Then they came up and offered us mineral waters and skewered chicken lizards with onions and green peppers. It would have been really rude and offensive to refuse, so we obliged. I asked Owusu if it was "fire in the mouth", which is what we call Ghanaian food as it is ALWAYS really hot and spicy. He assured me that it was not, so I very timidly bit off a piece of gizzard. MISTAKE! It was truly "fire in the mouth" and as tough as shoe leather. I managed to choke it down as Gary was chuckling under his breath. We then quietly passed our skewers to Owusu who devoured them and loved the extra treat. Owusu then told us that we were to pay money to help the family afford the whole extravaganza as there were hundreds and hundreds of people there and the gizzards alone must have numbered in the thousands. We took the money to a gentleman at the front who gave us a kind of receipt. Then that was taken to the guy with the microphone and as we left, we heard him announcing how much each person donated.
It was an amazing and unique experience! On attending this Ghanaian funeral, we couldn't help but feel a convincing belief that they truly believe in some sort of afterlife. We loved the celebration of a life rather than a tearful goodbye.
Robert--A Quest for Knowledge
Every morning, after Gary's bike ride, we walk along the jungle trails on various routes around our complex. The natives have gotten used to the weird obrunis walking for exercise, which they think is very strange. When we pass any African, they are usually scowling, looking down and acting as if we are invisible. Then we greet them and a huge smile crosses their faces and they are truly pleased that we have taken the time to say hello. Several weeks ago we ago we met a young man named Robert. We usually just say, "Etasane" (meaning how are you this morning?). They smile and respond "Eyah" (meaning fine, thank you). This young man was unusually alkative although his English was not very good. He wanted to know where we lived and asked if he could visit us sometime. Of course we said yes and then went on our way. A few days later, we ran into him again. He said again that he would visit us. They all say that so we thought nothing of it.
The next day, there was a knock at our door and it was Robert. We invited him in, gave him water to drink (always offered in Ghana), and learned he was 16, going to school, plans to become a doctor, gets good grades, is an only child (unusual in Sunyani), and that his parents are farmers. This all was learned through his very limited English and our even more limited Twi. He is a very handsome young man and is extremely quiet, polite and soft-spoken. He then abruptly stood up and said, "I am going now. I will be back tomorrow to study." We didn't quite get the whole scenario or what was going down, but Gary gave him a missionary color pamphlet and he left.
The next evening at exactly 6:30 pm there was a knock at our door. It was Robert, still in his school uniform and with two science books and our brochure in his hands. He sat down and opened the pamphlet, that he had marked and underlined. He asked Gary about Melchizedek and where it was in the Bible. Then the two of them researched it out. Gary said he has never seen a missionary brochure so studied. Then Robert sat down on the sofa and proceeded to silently study his science for an hour and a half. We really didn't know what to do, so Gary read his Ipad, US News & World Report, and I did some busy work. We finally figured out that his family doesn't have any electricity and he wants to continue to study after it gets dark, always at 6:30 pm in Ghana. I couldn't help but think of my mother and how she would be so impressed that a 16 year-old African boy would have such a desire to get an education. We will be certain to welcome him and let him study here, but we do need to set some ground rules.
Gary laughed at me when I gave him a little flashlight to help him find his way home. I guess it was kind of silly as he's been finding his way home in the dark for years. I figured maybe he could use the flashlight to study after he gets home.
Now, every night at 6:30 pm, Robert appears at our door, comes in and talks to Gary about the Church for a few minutes, then sits down at our table and studies: English, science, and computer (which he has never even touched-just reads about). He doesn't make a peep, rarely even looks up, until 8 pm, when he stands up, thanks us and leaves.
We have now learned he has no parents, and lives with an aunt somewhere out in the bush about 20 minutes walk from our place. The missionaries have been coming a couple of times a week and giving him the lessons before he studies and he has tons of really amazing questions. With the dedication and perseverance he demonstrates each evening, we just hope and pray he will really be able to go on with his schooling and not slip through the woodwork like so many of Africa's children.
The next day, there was a knock at our door and it was Robert. We invited him in, gave him water to drink (always offered in Ghana), and learned he was 16, going to school, plans to become a doctor, gets good grades, is an only child (unusual in Sunyani), and that his parents are farmers. This all was learned through his very limited English and our even more limited Twi. He is a very handsome young man and is extremely quiet, polite and soft-spoken. He then abruptly stood up and said, "I am going now. I will be back tomorrow to study." We didn't quite get the whole scenario or what was going down, but Gary gave him a missionary color pamphlet and he left.
The next evening at exactly 6:30 pm there was a knock at our door. It was Robert, still in his school uniform and with two science books and our brochure in his hands. He sat down and opened the pamphlet, that he had marked and underlined. He asked Gary about Melchizedek and where it was in the Bible. Then the two of them researched it out. Gary said he has never seen a missionary brochure so studied. Then Robert sat down on the sofa and proceeded to silently study his science for an hour and a half. We really didn't know what to do, so Gary read his Ipad, US News & World Report, and I did some busy work. We finally figured out that his family doesn't have any electricity and he wants to continue to study after it gets dark, always at 6:30 pm in Ghana. I couldn't help but think of my mother and how she would be so impressed that a 16 year-old African boy would have such a desire to get an education. We will be certain to welcome him and let him study here, but we do need to set some ground rules.
Gary laughed at me when I gave him a little flashlight to help him find his way home. I guess it was kind of silly as he's been finding his way home in the dark for years. I figured maybe he could use the flashlight to study after he gets home.
Now, every night at 6:30 pm, Robert appears at our door, comes in and talks to Gary about the Church for a few minutes, then sits down at our table and studies: English, science, and computer (which he has never even touched-just reads about). He doesn't make a peep, rarely even looks up, until 8 pm, when he stands up, thanks us and leaves.
We have now learned he has no parents, and lives with an aunt somewhere out in the bush about 20 minutes walk from our place. The missionaries have been coming a couple of times a week and giving him the lessons before he studies and he has tons of really amazing questions. With the dedication and perseverance he demonstrates each evening, we just hope and pray he will really be able to go on with his schooling and not slip through the woodwork like so many of Africa's children.
A Brand New Mission
The new Ghana Kumasi Mission officially began on July 1, 2012, and our new Mission President Holmes arrived with his wife from their home in South Africa. He called for all of the missionaries to come to Kumasi (President Thayne's most unfavorite place) to meet them and have an introductory conference. The new senior mission couple, the Palmers from Arizona, have also arrived and will be working in the mission office.
We took three of the Sunyani missionaries with us in our little truck, and put the remaining seven on the Metro (bus). The drive was horrible as always and uneventful--just long, hectic, and the usual chaos. We met the Zolls and the bus from Sunyani at the Metro Mass Station in the middle of Kumasi, loaded all of the Elders into the backs of both of our trucks, and drove to the stake center.
The conference lasted a few hours. The Holmes were very nice. The microphone didn't work and the building was filthy. It made us even more determined to have all the meetinghouses in Sunyani cleaned and in pristine condition. We took pictures, had a light lunch (the usual fried rice), and headed back to our little Sunyani as we wanted to arrive home before dark.
The new mission will of course be going through some growing pains in the next little while, but it will truly be better. We will miss the Shulzes but we will have a Mission Home and a Mission President about three hours away instead of eight hours and hopefully we will be able to have better communication and assistance. We know this will be a great step forward for Kumasi and Sunyani and the area we serve here in central Ghama--West Africa.
We took three of the Sunyani missionaries with us in our little truck, and put the remaining seven on the Metro (bus). The drive was horrible as always and uneventful--just long, hectic, and the usual chaos. We met the Zolls and the bus from Sunyani at the Metro Mass Station in the middle of Kumasi, loaded all of the Elders into the backs of both of our trucks, and drove to the stake center.
The conference lasted a few hours. The Holmes were very nice. The microphone didn't work and the building was filthy. It made us even more determined to have all the meetinghouses in Sunyani cleaned and in pristine condition. We took pictures, had a light lunch (the usual fried rice), and headed back to our little Sunyani as we wanted to arrive home before dark.
The new mission will of course be going through some growing pains in the next little while, but it will truly be better. We will miss the Shulzes but we will have a Mission Home and a Mission President about three hours away instead of eight hours and hopefully we will be able to have better communication and assistance. We know this will be a great step forward for Kumasi and Sunyani and the area we serve here in central Ghama--West Africa.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
The Curse of the Leopard Tortoise
A few days ago, President Thayne received a late night phone call from a very excited young African man named Hussan. He is the First Counselor in President Owusu's Nkwabeng Branch, very intelligent and computer literate, and the owner of a small printing shop on one of the countless dirt back roads in Sunyani. It had rained hard that evening and he was frantically trying to explain something about a tortoise and bad omens and was so agitated that the mix between English and Twi made it impossible to comprehend what was happening or what he was trying to communicate. He hung up and called Elder McFarland and asked him what the English word for tortoise was. McFarland explained that tortoise was English but that sometimes they are also called turtles. He then excitedly called us back, even more terrified than before. Somehow we figured out that he had discovered a leopard tortoise on the porch of his little shop. They are named that because they have gold and black mottled shells.
He was extremely frightened and kept asking questions about turtles and ranting and raving that he was cursed forever and would have bad luck always and that the turtle on his porch was an evil and bad omen. Gary tried to calm him down and explained that turtles were not evil; that they were just animals and that they were nothing to be upset about and that they were good, not evil.
Then Hussan got even more frightened and explained that he had killed the turtle. He had smashed it with a huge rock and when it didn't die, he poured gasoline on it and tried to light it on fire. He now KNEW he was cursed and that God would punish him for killing the turtle. Gary then tried to explain that it wouldn't bring bad luck and, that in some parts of the world, people use turtles for food and soup and that it still was nothing to worry about. It took a long time to reassure him, but after about an hour, he finally hung up.
Most of the Africans here in Sunyani have only been members of the Church for about a year. They still harbor lots of the beliefs and superstitions of their native ancestors mixed with Muslim ideology and old Christianity. He had apparently been told by his former Pastor/Witch Doctor that the tortoise being on his porch and no one else's porch, was a terrible omen and would curse him and bring him bad luck. President Thayne had apparently calmed his fears and then the next day, Hussan discovered that the turtle had not died after all. Now he thinks the turtle on his porch was a good sign and that it loved him and then it was living behind his gate. It apparently had been protected by its suit of armor formed by its heavy exoskeleton.
Hussan told us today, that the turtle had finally died, but that it had gone to heaven. The teaching of the people in Sunyani progresses so slowly, but we do seem to be making some real advances. Then something as simple as a turtle on a porch makes us realize how deep their African superstitions still are and how like little children they are about so many things. They are truly a simple and delightful people.
He was extremely frightened and kept asking questions about turtles and ranting and raving that he was cursed forever and would have bad luck always and that the turtle on his porch was an evil and bad omen. Gary tried to calm him down and explained that turtles were not evil; that they were just animals and that they were nothing to be upset about and that they were good, not evil.
Then Hussan got even more frightened and explained that he had killed the turtle. He had smashed it with a huge rock and when it didn't die, he poured gasoline on it and tried to light it on fire. He now KNEW he was cursed and that God would punish him for killing the turtle. Gary then tried to explain that it wouldn't bring bad luck and, that in some parts of the world, people use turtles for food and soup and that it still was nothing to worry about. It took a long time to reassure him, but after about an hour, he finally hung up.
Most of the Africans here in Sunyani have only been members of the Church for about a year. They still harbor lots of the beliefs and superstitions of their native ancestors mixed with Muslim ideology and old Christianity. He had apparently been told by his former Pastor/Witch Doctor that the tortoise being on his porch and no one else's porch, was a terrible omen and would curse him and bring him bad luck. President Thayne had apparently calmed his fears and then the next day, Hussan discovered that the turtle had not died after all. Now he thinks the turtle on his porch was a good sign and that it loved him and then it was living behind his gate. It apparently had been protected by its suit of armor formed by its heavy exoskeleton.
Hussan told us today, that the turtle had finally died, but that it had gone to heaven. The teaching of the people in Sunyani progresses so slowly, but we do seem to be making some real advances. Then something as simple as a turtle on a porch makes us realize how deep their African superstitions still are and how like little children they are about so many things. They are truly a simple and delightful people.
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