As we were leaving our adventure and the tree walk at Kakum, it began to rain. When it rains in Africa--it really RAINS--not raindrops but in sheets of water. It's really quite fabulous! We of course were out in the jungle on dirt roads but after 5 hours of sloshing through mud, we arrived at the Zoll's appartment in Kumasi, none the worse for wear, except a very muddy car.
We had hoped to be on our way back to Sunyani by 4 pm so that we would arrive home just a little after dark, but everything in Africa takes longer than planned and we didn't get on the road until after 5 pm. Then it took an incredibly long time to fight the traffic and worm our way through Sofaline and out of Kumasi. By the time we hit the main road it was getting dark.
Driving in Ghana is dangerous and crazy at best, but after dark it is truly a nightmare! We had been on the road for about 45 minutes and it was pitch black! At night the jungle is eerie and foreboding and the rainforest seems to close in from every direction. All of a sudden, ahead of us at the side of the road, loomed a figure flashing a small light back and forth. Gary slowed down and a man in a camoflauge outfit flagged us to a stop and told us that the road had been washed out and that we needed to take a detour.
SIDENOTE: Two weeks prior we had been told by two independant, reliable sources (and then again by Dr. Fife who read it in the Accra paper), that a VIP bus travelling from Kumasi to Sunyani had been flagged down and attacked by robbers. They stole everything valuable from the passengers and then raped one of the women on the bus. A taxi approached the stopped bus, realized what was going on, and was shot and killed as he tried to go for help.
Needless to say we were aprehensive about turning off the main highway, especially since "obrunis" are thought to be rich and especially at night. We hesitated but then took the detour off the road. In very broken English, the man told us to go to the "station" and then turn right to get back on the highway. We drove for quite a while and saw no station, not being exactly certain what a station really was. It got darker and darker with fewer and fewer little villages to pass through. The jungle seemed to be reaching in from all sides. It was downright scary!
We were both very uneasy and even a little frightened and began weighing our options. We were obviously NOT on the road to Sunyani and seemed to be heading deeper and deeper into the jungle. We didn't have a clue where we were, out on a dirt road in the rainforest, somewhere in Ghana, in the middle of the night! We considered pulling off and sleeping in the car until morning and daybreak, when we could actually see something. That in itself seemed a little dangerous--two obrunis asleep in a car on the side of the road. We kept going and finally came to another small village. We saw a few young people walking and stopped to ask which way to Sunyani. They, of course, spoke no English; we speak no Twi except the nice phrases like thankyou or good morning. I kept saying "Sunyani" and using sign language. Finally, one of the young men said, "No, no....Sunyani", and pointed back the way we had come. So we turned around and headed back, in the dark again, through the jungle, the way we had come.
When we reached the next village we stopped and asked again, and each time, after frustrating sign language, they directed us another way. It was hours going from town to town asking directions, sometimes from three or four different natives until we found someone who understood.
We finally arrived back on the main road and familiar sights and pulled into Sunyani after hours and hours of weaving through the backroads in the jungle in the dark. Our little apartment never looked so good and after such a horrible experience, we have both vowed we will not drive anywhere unfamiliar after dark again!
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Kakum National Park & the Canopy Walk
Less than an hour from Cape Coast and on our way home, Kakum National Park protects what is among the most extensive rainforest in Ghana. It covers an area of about 607 square kilometers and has an average humidity of 90%. We decided to take a quick tour (against Gary's protest as he HATES heights and Kakum's Canopy Walk, one of only five in the entire world, is a bit out of his comfort zone).
The Canopy Walk was constructed in 1995, and is unique in Africa. It consists of a 350 meter long wood and rope walkway that is about 400 yards high (about 4 football fields in the air)! It is suspended between seven gigantic trees and is broken up by a number of rickety viewing platforms. It offers a rare opportunity to actually look into the forest canopy, a breath-taking experience in itself. We hiked up the side of a mountain until we were actually high enough in the air to launch out into the walkways. It was quite amazing, balancing on a rope walkway and holding onto the side as you look down into the jungle. It was great fun until Bud Zoll started bouncing on the suspension bridge and then I have to admit even I was a little uncomfortable. Gary was a great sport. He absolutely hated it and was totally sick the whole way, but he actually completed the whole walk and didn't opt out on the chicken's loop, that allows those squimish about heights to go from platform 1 directly to platform 7.
We passed some birdwatchers from Germany who were perched at one of the platforms, scrutinizing the area with high-powered binoculars hoping to catch a glimpse of some exotic bird. Sometimes the foliage was so thick you couldn't even see the ground and at other times, the rainforest floor was completely visible--I'm not certain which was more scary.
It wasn't until after we were securely back on platform 7, that Elder Zoll pointed out the few rusty nails that were holding the wire ropes and the bracing trees that were almost pulled out of the soggy ground. I guess we just assumed it was safe (except for Gary), but it was an incredible experience in retrospect.
The Canopy Walk was constructed in 1995, and is unique in Africa. It consists of a 350 meter long wood and rope walkway that is about 400 yards high (about 4 football fields in the air)! It is suspended between seven gigantic trees and is broken up by a number of rickety viewing platforms. It offers a rare opportunity to actually look into the forest canopy, a breath-taking experience in itself. We hiked up the side of a mountain until we were actually high enough in the air to launch out into the walkways. It was quite amazing, balancing on a rope walkway and holding onto the side as you look down into the jungle. It was great fun until Bud Zoll started bouncing on the suspension bridge and then I have to admit even I was a little uncomfortable. Gary was a great sport. He absolutely hated it and was totally sick the whole way, but he actually completed the whole walk and didn't opt out on the chicken's loop, that allows those squimish about heights to go from platform 1 directly to platform 7.
We passed some birdwatchers from Germany who were perched at one of the platforms, scrutinizing the area with high-powered binoculars hoping to catch a glimpse of some exotic bird. Sometimes the foliage was so thick you couldn't even see the ground and at other times, the rainforest floor was completely visible--I'm not certain which was more scary.
It wasn't until after we were securely back on platform 7, that Elder Zoll pointed out the few rusty nails that were holding the wire ropes and the bracing trees that were almost pulled out of the soggy ground. I guess we just assumed it was safe (except for Gary), but it was an incredible experience in retrospect.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Cape Coast--the castle and old friends
We left Accra the next day and drove down the shoreline to Cape Coast, where our original Mission Home and Mission President live. We had never seen the infamous Cape Coast castle. It is reputed to have been one of the largest slave-holding sites in the world during the colonial era, where Ghanaians--many of them traded to the British by the Ashantis in return for alcohol and guns--were stored before being cramped into returning merchant ships and deported to a life of captive labor.
Sited on the edge of town overlooking a rocky stretch of coast with crashing waves, this whitewashed building is far more attractive than you feel a place with its history ought to be. But once below ground, in the claustrophobic dungeons which saw tens of thousands of Ghanaians incarcerated during the peak of that barbaric era, it is a grim and sobering place indeed. It is the time you spend in these slave dungeons that cuts most closely, their stone walls still marked by the desperate scratching of those imprisoned within them. There are three dungeons in total, all grim and efficient in design. The oldest was built before 1790 and was followed in 1792 by the male dungeon. The female dungeon is on the eastern wall, near the exit to the sea that bore the grim nickname "Door of No Return". A few years ago, a symbolic invitation was issued to two descendants of slaves that saw them return through the Door of No Return, effectively breaking the chain. There is now a sign on the other side, that says "Door of Return".
SIDENOTE: The atmosphere and aura within its walls, remided me of the same feelings I had while visiting Dachau Concentration Camp in Germany. The human suffering that you feel within the walls of such places is almost more than one can bear.
We then drove up the hill to the Cape Coast Mission home where we reunited with President and Sister Shulz and the Asays. It was so good to be with old friends. We spent a delightful evening, had a wonderful dinner, reminisced, laughed and played games...It was GREAT!
TOMORROW: KAKUM NATIONAL PARK AND THE CANOPY WALK
Sited on the edge of town overlooking a rocky stretch of coast with crashing waves, this whitewashed building is far more attractive than you feel a place with its history ought to be. But once below ground, in the claustrophobic dungeons which saw tens of thousands of Ghanaians incarcerated during the peak of that barbaric era, it is a grim and sobering place indeed. It is the time you spend in these slave dungeons that cuts most closely, their stone walls still marked by the desperate scratching of those imprisoned within them. There are three dungeons in total, all grim and efficient in design. The oldest was built before 1790 and was followed in 1792 by the male dungeon. The female dungeon is on the eastern wall, near the exit to the sea that bore the grim nickname "Door of No Return". A few years ago, a symbolic invitation was issued to two descendants of slaves that saw them return through the Door of No Return, effectively breaking the chain. There is now a sign on the other side, that says "Door of Return".
SIDENOTE: The atmosphere and aura within its walls, remided me of the same feelings I had while visiting Dachau Concentration Camp in Germany. The human suffering that you feel within the walls of such places is almost more than one can bear.
We then drove up the hill to the Cape Coast Mission home where we reunited with President and Sister Shulz and the Asays. It was so good to be with old friends. We spent a delightful evening, had a wonderful dinner, reminisced, laughed and played games...It was GREAT!
TOMORROW: KAKUM NATIONAL PARK AND THE CANOPY WALK
Weeping and Wailing - MTC Immunizations
Elder Frankom from Utah developed a severe case of psoriasis and instead of being sent home, he requested that he be able to finish his mission in another African country better suited for his skin disorder. He was reassigned to the Union of South Africa. Zolls asked us if we wanted to drive with them to Accra to take him to the airport. Elder Frankom is a pleasant, truly good Elder who stands an impressive 6'5" tall. Needless to say, we put him in the front seat with Zoll and the rest of us squished in the back seat.
The only problem we encountered was that Elder Frankom wanted to take his workout weights with him and knew they would throw his allowed baggage overweight, so he packed them in his carry-on and lugged them onto the plane himself. Zoll paid an extra 40 American dollars just in case, but the Elder made it safe and sound.
We had made arrangements to stay overnight at the MTC (Missionary Training Center) in Accra. The accommodations were the very best we've seen in all of Africa. We actually had a real mattress instead of a plywood base! President Graham and his lovely wife Vanessa do an incredible job orienting the new missionaries that are being sent to all of West Africa. The new Elders and Sisters stay in the MTC for three weeks. Only sisters from Africa are assigned to Ghana as the Church feels the conditions here are much too primitive and unsafe for North American women--we agree.
Earlier that week, Dr. Fife had to accompany a very sick young Elder back to Washington D.C. as he was unable to fly alone. This left his wife Michelle to stay in Accra and administer the necessary vaccinations to the new batch of missionaries at the MTC. Since we were staying there, she asked if we could assist her. What an experience!
Bonnie (Zoll) assembled each of the groups (6-8) and got them ready in the hallway for the shots. Then an aide(nurse), Sister Fife, and I were to administer them. None of the missionaries like the vacinations. The Americans, French and English (who were very few) had no problem. The African Elders didn't like them at all but managed to wince through them. But then we got to the Sisters. The girls from Madagascar were hating them; some cried softly, others were shaking, but we got through it. Then we moved on to the sisters from the Congo. Oh, My!!! The screaming and wailing I have never seen the like! One young lady had to be held by all three of us! She grabbed my left arm and left breast and held on so tightly I still have a huge bruise on my arm, all the while screaming at the top of her lungs! Sister Fife literally sat on her and the nurse hurried and gave her the shots. Everyone out in the hall thought she was being tortured to death. Bonnie said you should have seen the expressions on the faces of the missionaries who were still waiting in line. I would hate to see how the Congolese women handle childbirth. This was the case with every one of them--screaming and wailing and pure drama! I do however believe they were truly terrified. I tried explaining that my little McKenna who is only 2 years old gets shots all the time and is really brave and doesn't ever cry--but to no avail. We finally got through them--what an ordeal!
We took Michelle (Fife) to dinner that night at Captain Hook's, a really nice restaurant in Accra. The Breillets, the Accra Temple President and his wife accompanied us also and it was a delightful, wonderful evening and meal. I had forgotten what a cloth napkin and candleight and sumptious food was really like. Next morning--Cape Coast!
The only problem we encountered was that Elder Frankom wanted to take his workout weights with him and knew they would throw his allowed baggage overweight, so he packed them in his carry-on and lugged them onto the plane himself. Zoll paid an extra 40 American dollars just in case, but the Elder made it safe and sound.
We had made arrangements to stay overnight at the MTC (Missionary Training Center) in Accra. The accommodations were the very best we've seen in all of Africa. We actually had a real mattress instead of a plywood base! President Graham and his lovely wife Vanessa do an incredible job orienting the new missionaries that are being sent to all of West Africa. The new Elders and Sisters stay in the MTC for three weeks. Only sisters from Africa are assigned to Ghana as the Church feels the conditions here are much too primitive and unsafe for North American women--we agree.
Earlier that week, Dr. Fife had to accompany a very sick young Elder back to Washington D.C. as he was unable to fly alone. This left his wife Michelle to stay in Accra and administer the necessary vaccinations to the new batch of missionaries at the MTC. Since we were staying there, she asked if we could assist her. What an experience!
Bonnie (Zoll) assembled each of the groups (6-8) and got them ready in the hallway for the shots. Then an aide(nurse), Sister Fife, and I were to administer them. None of the missionaries like the vacinations. The Americans, French and English (who were very few) had no problem. The African Elders didn't like them at all but managed to wince through them. But then we got to the Sisters. The girls from Madagascar were hating them; some cried softly, others were shaking, but we got through it. Then we moved on to the sisters from the Congo. Oh, My!!! The screaming and wailing I have never seen the like! One young lady had to be held by all three of us! She grabbed my left arm and left breast and held on so tightly I still have a huge bruise on my arm, all the while screaming at the top of her lungs! Sister Fife literally sat on her and the nurse hurried and gave her the shots. Everyone out in the hall thought she was being tortured to death. Bonnie said you should have seen the expressions on the faces of the missionaries who were still waiting in line. I would hate to see how the Congolese women handle childbirth. This was the case with every one of them--screaming and wailing and pure drama! I do however believe they were truly terrified. I tried explaining that my little McKenna who is only 2 years old gets shots all the time and is really brave and doesn't ever cry--but to no avail. We finally got through them--what an ordeal!
We took Michelle (Fife) to dinner that night at Captain Hook's, a really nice restaurant in Accra. The Breillets, the Accra Temple President and his wife accompanied us also and it was a delightful, wonderful evening and meal. I had forgotten what a cloth napkin and candleight and sumptious food was really like. Next morning--Cape Coast!
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Face-Off
The members in Sunyani have been begging for more activities where they can get together and socialize with each other. We have put together a game night called "Face-Off". Basically, it is held once a week, for 8 weeks and players are drawn from a basket of names to compete in "Minute To Win It" silly games where the Grand Champion will win a new IPOD. They are really excited about the event!
The first game night seemed cursed from the get-go. First, the Area office hired some painters to paint the inside and outside walls of Nkwabeng, where the games were to be held, as well as the outside guard walls.They also were making preparations to paint and seal the inside floors but we stopped them in the knick of time. (It takes about 3 full days to dry.) We got there early and set up the chairs and game props. About then I had a surge of diarrhea (common here in Ghana)--thank goodness we have bathrooms in meetinghouses.
I put signs out on the road and attached two large red cloths to the gate to show everyone where to come in. Brother Brookman, Gary's District Clerk, came running into the chapel and apparently my red flags were very inappropriate. Red is the color of mourning and death in Ghana (along with black)) and is considered a very solemn and sad color and to display it at the gate meant someone had died. We took the flags down.
Africans are ALWAYS late--never on time for anything, but they started arriving in droads about an hour early. The games were scheduled to begin at 6:30 pm. By 6:15, we had a tremendous crowd! At 6:25 pm, the inevitable happened--the power went off. It's dark at 6 pm and it was pitch black inside so we waited for a while outside on the grounds. Finally, we gave the members 3 choices: cancel the event for that night and go home; postpone it to the next night; or travel to Penkwase Chapel and carry it off that night. Much to our surprise, they all wanted to move it and have it that night at Penkwase.
So we flagged down taxis, loaded the games and all the people, and off to the new building we went (where the power was on--we called to make certain). That first night it was a little thrown together but it finally went off without a hitch. They all had a great time. We had planned on about 50-60 people, served Fan-ice, ran out, and figured we had about 85-90 people--a great success!
The problem is we have to do it again next week. The joys of mission!
UPDATE: Face-Off is HUGE! Every week, 80-90 people show up, compete in silly games, laugh (and argue), and all but the winner leave vowing to compete for the coveted championship the next week. All in all we will have 8 weekly competitions (way too many and way too long). Then the weekly winners will play off to see who will be the Grand Champion and win the IPOD......They Love It!!!
Mission Miracles
Elder Obasi is from Nigeria. At first glance, one saw him as a very well-built, attractive African man. He has an infectious personality and is a tremendous leader and missionary. The only thing that was immediately apparent and truly shocking about this fine young Elder was his smile. His smile is warm and sincere but his teeth were corroded and blackened and looked like 4 years of black gooey moss had collected on them. He has worked very hard to go on this mission and has been entirely on his own since a young boy. He earned every penny and so there is no help from home.
We are told that in his hometown in Nigeria there is a mineral in the water that destroys the teeth. We've even paid to have his teeth cleaned, hoping there would be some improvement, but they looked exactly the same after the cleaning.
President Holmes was approached and convinced that not only was his proselyting being affected, but perhaps this was a health issue as well. Elder and Sister Zoll found a dentist in Kumasi who did veneers and then paid for the work themselves. Such generous people! Missions do produce miracles; some small, some not so small. Elder Obasi now has a bright new set of teeth, lots of confidence and a fabulous new smile!
What a joy it is to see a bright new future for this young missionary, who is dedicating his life and all of his substance for two years to the Lord -- not only while he's on his mission, but for years to come.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Demon in the Washroom
We meet the most unusual people on our early morning walks. At first we got lots of stares, some even fearful of the strange obrunis, but now the locals are used to us. They all wave and yell "Etahsane" (How are you this morning) and we respond, "Ayah" (Fine, thanks) and they laugh to think the white man will try to talk Twi.
One morning we met a young African girl named Victoria. She is about 14-15 years old and is exceptionally outgoing and friendly (unusual for Ghanaian girls) and she spoke fairly good English. She of course wanted to come visit us--they all do but rarely follow through. I told her that her name "Victoria" was the name of a very famous and powerful Queen of England long ago. She liked that and we continued to see her as she walked to school in the mornings. She has the usual cropped hair (about a half-inch all over her head) that is required by all the schools. She has beautiful chocolate brown, very large eyes, but her biggest asset is her fun and upbeat personality.
One afternoon, she and a friend just showed up at our place. Her friend's name is Ivy. She's much smaller than Victoria, much quieter, and doesn't speak English as well. We learned both of their families live in the same unfinished house like so many here in Ghana. When they left both girls were intrigued by our refrigerator. I'm sure they don't have one and probably no electricity either.
A few weeks later, Gary was updating his IPAD and I was vegging out on the sofa, when all of a sudden Ivy and a much smaller, younger girl ran into the Giant Hall (Living Room) from out of our back rooms, screaming hysterically, "Help us, help us! Something is wrong! There's a demon in your washroom (bathroom)!" We were totally startled! First of all because we didn't even know the girls were in our apartment and then we couldn't imagine what was going on. Ghanaians don't knock--they just walk in.
We ran into the bathroom and found Victoria huddled in the toilet room, scared to death! Gary's electric toothbrush had been turned on and was vibrating like crazy! We turned it off and then had the girls come into the Living Room to settle down. They somehow had gotten by the gatekeeper and had simply walked through our back door and went exploring in our bathroom. I'm certain they had no idea what an electric toothbrush was and they had pushed the button.
We gave them some cookies and juice. The smaller girl was Victoria's little 7-year old sister. Ivy took the longest time to drink her juice, barely sipping a taste at a time. I asked her if she didn't like it and Victoria said that she LOVED it and didn't want it to be gone because they never got juice--it was too expensive. We also found out that the girls had been taken out of school until their families could raise enough money to send them back, but for now there was just not enough to go around. When they left, they were fascinated by the washer and dryer--they had never seen them before either.
We can't help but ponder what will become of these precious little souls and what the future holds for them. We will however be locking our doors from now on so exploring little people won't unintentionally experience something that could hurt them like appliances or medications.
One morning we met a young African girl named Victoria. She is about 14-15 years old and is exceptionally outgoing and friendly (unusual for Ghanaian girls) and she spoke fairly good English. She of course wanted to come visit us--they all do but rarely follow through. I told her that her name "Victoria" was the name of a very famous and powerful Queen of England long ago. She liked that and we continued to see her as she walked to school in the mornings. She has the usual cropped hair (about a half-inch all over her head) that is required by all the schools. She has beautiful chocolate brown, very large eyes, but her biggest asset is her fun and upbeat personality.
One afternoon, she and a friend just showed up at our place. Her friend's name is Ivy. She's much smaller than Victoria, much quieter, and doesn't speak English as well. We learned both of their families live in the same unfinished house like so many here in Ghana. When they left both girls were intrigued by our refrigerator. I'm sure they don't have one and probably no electricity either.
A few weeks later, Gary was updating his IPAD and I was vegging out on the sofa, when all of a sudden Ivy and a much smaller, younger girl ran into the Giant Hall (Living Room) from out of our back rooms, screaming hysterically, "Help us, help us! Something is wrong! There's a demon in your washroom (bathroom)!" We were totally startled! First of all because we didn't even know the girls were in our apartment and then we couldn't imagine what was going on. Ghanaians don't knock--they just walk in.
We ran into the bathroom and found Victoria huddled in the toilet room, scared to death! Gary's electric toothbrush had been turned on and was vibrating like crazy! We turned it off and then had the girls come into the Living Room to settle down. They somehow had gotten by the gatekeeper and had simply walked through our back door and went exploring in our bathroom. I'm certain they had no idea what an electric toothbrush was and they had pushed the button.
We gave them some cookies and juice. The smaller girl was Victoria's little 7-year old sister. Ivy took the longest time to drink her juice, barely sipping a taste at a time. I asked her if she didn't like it and Victoria said that she LOVED it and didn't want it to be gone because they never got juice--it was too expensive. We also found out that the girls had been taken out of school until their families could raise enough money to send them back, but for now there was just not enough to go around. When they left, they were fascinated by the washer and dryer--they had never seen them before either.
We can't help but ponder what will become of these precious little souls and what the future holds for them. We will however be locking our doors from now on so exploring little people won't unintentionally experience something that could hurt them like appliances or medications.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Dormaa - People All Share the Same Heartaches
The new President of Ghana (the Vice-President was sworn in after President John Mills died) visited Sunyani. It was as if the President of the United States had visited St. George. Absolute traffic nightmares, parades on every corner, chiefs from all the neighboring villages being carried into the city on their litters with drums following and huge umbrellas leading their processions. Flags and brightly colored banners were on every street corner and they had even hurriedly painted all the curbs white before he arrived.
The very next day, President James of the Estates Branch called and asked if we could drive him and his counselors to Dormaa, a little town about an hour west of here on the Cote D'Ivoire (Ivory Coast) border. One of the members of their branch was there, tending to his dying mother and he had asked for them to come and give her a blessing.
We of course said yes. None of them drive or have cars so it was either with us or they would have had to take a taxi. President James and his counselor Pax are both unusually large and well-built African men and their Executive Secretary, Brookman, is a slight-built young man, more like the usual Ghanaian physique. Pax is a prison guard and James works for the government as a planning engineer. They proceeded to get into a lively political discussion which as typical Ghanaian discourses go, became very elevated, loud and somewhat contentious. Poor Brookman, who was wedged between them in the back seat, was caught in the middle of two roaring African Alpha males expressing their opinions, both talking at once at hearing decimals that would be banned in the US. It was interesting, animated, and extremely tiring.
We finally arrived in Dormaa and stopped to pick up the young man we had come to visit. I waited in the car and slipped some small children playing on the street next to me some candy we keep in the console of the car just for such occasions.
Two young men came out with them and for a second I thought I was seeing double. Ellis Senior and Ellis Junior (same name) were identical twins and they were identical! They both even wore the same shirt and both had the same tribal scar on their left cheeks. This time it was a "T" on its side. They hopped into the "basket" (back of the pickup) and we drove to the hospital where their mother had been convalescing for several weeks. Their sister was already there waiting for us.
I was not prepared for the scene that unfolded before our eyes. The hospital was much smaller and older than in Sunyani and not nearly as clean. We were all led down narrow hallways or porches that opened on one side to a central courtyard. When we reached the women's wing we entered through a narrow doorway into small musty rooms lined in rows which were connected by doorways. There were small windows on one side of the rooms and the walls were painted a dingy, dark yellow-gold color. Mold and fungus (common in Ghana) discolored the paint and crept up the walls like eerie monsters on the walls. Each room held six beds, three against each wall with a narrow aisle down the center, barely wide enough to allow one to walk between the beds.
The boys' mother was curled up in a fetal position on one of the cots. She wasn't much more than a dried up shell. It was as if someone had stretched black leather over a skeleton. She looked up at me, our eyes met, and I felt the human soul behind those sunken eyes. In rather surprisingly good English she said, "Thank you for coming"--a corn husk who could speak. She kept coughing and spitting mucous into a bucket.
Her daughter sat on the bed next to her and all of a sudden a flood of memories came screeching back into my mind as I remembered how just a little over a year ago, I too had sat at the bedside of my frail, dying mother. It was almost more than I could bear and tears welled up from deep inside.
They helped prop her up and then Brookman annointed her head and Gary gave her the simplest, most lovely blessing--that she would have peace and comfort. The entire room, which was filled with people, became immediately silent--not a sound was made. When he had finished, a small, dwarf-like woman across the aisle asked if he would bless the entire room. He of course complied and again the spirit was so close--so special.
As we were leaving, a beautiful young African woman who was visiting one of the patients approached me, took my hand and said, "Please, I want to be your friend." I assured her that we are all Heavenly Father's children and that of course, I would be her friend. "Someday,think of me", she whispered. We hugged--two total strangers--brought together for just a brief moment somewhere in rural Africa. And she was right--I will think of her.
The drive back to Sunyani was uneventful. But this time the car was very quiet as we were all just pondering the spiritual experience we had just encountered.
The very next day, President James of the Estates Branch called and asked if we could drive him and his counselors to Dormaa, a little town about an hour west of here on the Cote D'Ivoire (Ivory Coast) border. One of the members of their branch was there, tending to his dying mother and he had asked for them to come and give her a blessing.
We of course said yes. None of them drive or have cars so it was either with us or they would have had to take a taxi. President James and his counselor Pax are both unusually large and well-built African men and their Executive Secretary, Brookman, is a slight-built young man, more like the usual Ghanaian physique. Pax is a prison guard and James works for the government as a planning engineer. They proceeded to get into a lively political discussion which as typical Ghanaian discourses go, became very elevated, loud and somewhat contentious. Poor Brookman, who was wedged between them in the back seat, was caught in the middle of two roaring African Alpha males expressing their opinions, both talking at once at hearing decimals that would be banned in the US. It was interesting, animated, and extremely tiring.
We finally arrived in Dormaa and stopped to pick up the young man we had come to visit. I waited in the car and slipped some small children playing on the street next to me some candy we keep in the console of the car just for such occasions.
Two young men came out with them and for a second I thought I was seeing double. Ellis Senior and Ellis Junior (same name) were identical twins and they were identical! They both even wore the same shirt and both had the same tribal scar on their left cheeks. This time it was a "T" on its side. They hopped into the "basket" (back of the pickup) and we drove to the hospital where their mother had been convalescing for several weeks. Their sister was already there waiting for us.
I was not prepared for the scene that unfolded before our eyes. The hospital was much smaller and older than in Sunyani and not nearly as clean. We were all led down narrow hallways or porches that opened on one side to a central courtyard. When we reached the women's wing we entered through a narrow doorway into small musty rooms lined in rows which were connected by doorways. There were small windows on one side of the rooms and the walls were painted a dingy, dark yellow-gold color. Mold and fungus (common in Ghana) discolored the paint and crept up the walls like eerie monsters on the walls. Each room held six beds, three against each wall with a narrow aisle down the center, barely wide enough to allow one to walk between the beds.
The boys' mother was curled up in a fetal position on one of the cots. She wasn't much more than a dried up shell. It was as if someone had stretched black leather over a skeleton. She looked up at me, our eyes met, and I felt the human soul behind those sunken eyes. In rather surprisingly good English she said, "Thank you for coming"--a corn husk who could speak. She kept coughing and spitting mucous into a bucket.
Her daughter sat on the bed next to her and all of a sudden a flood of memories came screeching back into my mind as I remembered how just a little over a year ago, I too had sat at the bedside of my frail, dying mother. It was almost more than I could bear and tears welled up from deep inside.
They helped prop her up and then Brookman annointed her head and Gary gave her the simplest, most lovely blessing--that she would have peace and comfort. The entire room, which was filled with people, became immediately silent--not a sound was made. When he had finished, a small, dwarf-like woman across the aisle asked if he would bless the entire room. He of course complied and again the spirit was so close--so special.
As we were leaving, a beautiful young African woman who was visiting one of the patients approached me, took my hand and said, "Please, I want to be your friend." I assured her that we are all Heavenly Father's children and that of course, I would be her friend. "Someday,think of me", she whispered. We hugged--two total strangers--brought together for just a brief moment somewhere in rural Africa. And she was right--I will think of her.
The drive back to Sunyani was uneventful. But this time the car was very quiet as we were all just pondering the spiritual experience we had just encountered.
Moosa Yaloo - The Cow Man
We have a herd of cows that are stabled (fenced) down the dirt road from where we live. One morning while on our daily walk the cows were being herded along the trail. We see them often but they are usually led by a young man, but this day they were being driven by an older gentleman and a young girl with a baby strapped on her back, Ghanaian style. He stopped us and introduced himself as "Moosa Yaloo" and he was very proud that he was the owner of the cows. The cows are a very sad rendition of cows in America. They are all very boney, skinny and delapitated-looking. But they are very prized here and ownership definitely denotes a position of status.
Moosa is a Muslim and always wears a long gown and Muslim cap. He introduced us to Rita, his daughter, and asked if we had any job she could do and work for us. We explained that we were missionaries and really didn't have any work for her. She was truly a lovely girl. Her eyes were sad and she was very quiet but she was exceptionally pretty. I noticed a large scar on her left cheek in the shape of a half-moon. I thought that the poor girl had perhaps fallen on a broken bottle or sharp implement when she was young.
I have since noticed that same scar on the same cheek on many young people and have learned that it is a tribal designation and the small children are cut this way to denote which tribe they belong to. Sometimes the markings are different and sometimes they are on different cheeks. We even have a great-looking African Elder from Nigeria who has two scars, one on each cheek.
In Fiapre, a few weeks later during Fast Meeting, a very educated older woman who works for the government was attending and had a double scar on her cheek. As she bore her testimony she remarked about her tribal mark and then noted her "junior brother", also in the congregation, had the same scar.
Some of the customs of this land are very foreign to us but we are learning so much about their culture and beliefs. But whenever I notice the markings, I still always think what a shame it is to scar these beautiful young faces.
Moosa is a Muslim and always wears a long gown and Muslim cap. He introduced us to Rita, his daughter, and asked if we had any job she could do and work for us. We explained that we were missionaries and really didn't have any work for her. She was truly a lovely girl. Her eyes were sad and she was very quiet but she was exceptionally pretty. I noticed a large scar on her left cheek in the shape of a half-moon. I thought that the poor girl had perhaps fallen on a broken bottle or sharp implement when she was young.
I have since noticed that same scar on the same cheek on many young people and have learned that it is a tribal designation and the small children are cut this way to denote which tribe they belong to. Sometimes the markings are different and sometimes they are on different cheeks. We even have a great-looking African Elder from Nigeria who has two scars, one on each cheek.
In Fiapre, a few weeks later during Fast Meeting, a very educated older woman who works for the government was attending and had a double scar on her cheek. As she bore her testimony she remarked about her tribal mark and then noted her "junior brother", also in the congregation, had the same scar.
Some of the customs of this land are very foreign to us but we are learning so much about their culture and beliefs. But whenever I notice the markings, I still always think what a shame it is to scar these beautiful young faces.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Anniversary Woes
We've been married 44 years and our anniversary turned out anything but what we expected. After Gary's early morning bike ride, we took our usual morning walk through the jungle paths. The rainy season is slowly starting to fade away and it seems to be getting hotter each day. We planned on having a relaxed morning but we did have several little errands that needed attending to in town. Just as we were leaving, President Owusu called and said we needed to meet Alex (one of the members) at Auntie Mary's house right away.
When we arrived at her little shack, Alex and Effah were waiting for us. They jumped in the back seat and told us we had to go to the police station right away. Well, we've been to the Sunyani Police Station and it wasn't a great experience to say the least. They hemmed and hawed and skirted the issue, but we finally found out that Wilson, the Elder's Quorum President, and one of his roommates named Fred had been arrested in their house at 4 in the morning and hauled to lock-up.
Come to find out there had been an escalating fight at their complex the night before. Several families and individuals all rent rooms in this house. A young girl in her twenties had accused Fred of stealing her phone. Phones are the one thing Ghanaians value--phones are their lifeline and communication with the world and they all have them, no matter how poor they are. There are no newspapers; most don't drive or own a car; television is out of Accra and very mediocre and downright stupid. Phones are IMPORTANT to them!
The fight had escalated, like most disagreements here in Ghana, and somehow Wlson interjected his two cents worth and the girl "disrespected" him and "insulted" him, and he smacked her around a bit. Wife beating is very common in Ghana and somewhat expected if a woman "disrespects" a man. She in turn went to the police, pressed charges, and the two young men were arrested--as they should have been.
However, now comes the bottom line. They were thrown in jail--a dingy, filthy room with no windows and only one barred door. There are no chairs nor toilets--it's dark and reeks of urine and who knows what else. The prisoners are left there with no food (sometimes for days) and then if no one approaches the CID (I don't know what that stands for) they go to prison. Wilson was in line to spend two years--no trial--just a court appearance and then lock-up.
We met with the CID, a rather bossy, heavier-set woman and she told Gary and me to go away and let Alex handle it. Then she left and went to town for a few hours. We took Alex to get some food for the guys. It was then about 2 pm. We left Alex there and went on our errands and returned a couple of hours later to see what had transpired--NOTHING! We then approached the CID; she had returned and she again put us off--told us to leave. We persisted however, very respectfully, and finally for 20 cedis, they released the young men. Alex is trying to reach the girl and see if she will drop the charges and then let Wilson work out a private kind of restitution with her. By now, several of their friends had arrived and we were told that they never release prisoners that quickly or for that small amount of bail. They said the only reason they were let out was because the "old obrunis" went to bat for them.
Then as we were backing up to leave, we ran into a parked car and dented the fender--a major uprising again! People kept congregating and yelling and expressing their opinions very loudly, even if they hadn't even seen the accident! Because we are so white and visible and stick out, everyone seems to know where we are and what we are doing. Members from all of the Branches began showing up at the police station. They just saw us and stopped by. Owusu had arrived a little earlier and had seen the accident. He and the owner of the car were screaming at each other and then all of a sudden, Owusu jumped in his car and the guy with the smashed fender followed him in his vehicle and they both left. We just sat there--didn't know what to do. Here we are at the police station, are involved in an accident that was clearly our fault, and then they leave. We found out later that Owusu had the guy follow him to a friend's garage to see what it would cost to fix the dent and told him we would pay for it.
We were thoroughly disgusted with Wilson and feels he really needs to learn a lesson--that regardless of what the situation is or what is said, it never should escalate into physical violence. That said, two years in a Ghanaian prison without a trial seems a little steep for a split lip. We think he should be accountable at any rate.
We finally drove home--having spent the whole day at the police station--a place I never wanted to see again and truly hope we never have the misfortune of going to again in the future.
UPDATED NOTE: The fender cost us about 55 cedis ($30). Alex signed for Wilson. Wilson claims he never struck the girl--only pushed her. Wilson has skipped town--we think he's somewhere in Accra. If he doesn't come back or get her to drop the charges, Alex might have to go to prison. What a nightmare--this justice system!
When we arrived at her little shack, Alex and Effah were waiting for us. They jumped in the back seat and told us we had to go to the police station right away. Well, we've been to the Sunyani Police Station and it wasn't a great experience to say the least. They hemmed and hawed and skirted the issue, but we finally found out that Wilson, the Elder's Quorum President, and one of his roommates named Fred had been arrested in their house at 4 in the morning and hauled to lock-up.
Come to find out there had been an escalating fight at their complex the night before. Several families and individuals all rent rooms in this house. A young girl in her twenties had accused Fred of stealing her phone. Phones are the one thing Ghanaians value--phones are their lifeline and communication with the world and they all have them, no matter how poor they are. There are no newspapers; most don't drive or own a car; television is out of Accra and very mediocre and downright stupid. Phones are IMPORTANT to them!
The fight had escalated, like most disagreements here in Ghana, and somehow Wlson interjected his two cents worth and the girl "disrespected" him and "insulted" him, and he smacked her around a bit. Wife beating is very common in Ghana and somewhat expected if a woman "disrespects" a man. She in turn went to the police, pressed charges, and the two young men were arrested--as they should have been.
However, now comes the bottom line. They were thrown in jail--a dingy, filthy room with no windows and only one barred door. There are no chairs nor toilets--it's dark and reeks of urine and who knows what else. The prisoners are left there with no food (sometimes for days) and then if no one approaches the CID (I don't know what that stands for) they go to prison. Wilson was in line to spend two years--no trial--just a court appearance and then lock-up.
We met with the CID, a rather bossy, heavier-set woman and she told Gary and me to go away and let Alex handle it. Then she left and went to town for a few hours. We took Alex to get some food for the guys. It was then about 2 pm. We left Alex there and went on our errands and returned a couple of hours later to see what had transpired--NOTHING! We then approached the CID; she had returned and she again put us off--told us to leave. We persisted however, very respectfully, and finally for 20 cedis, they released the young men. Alex is trying to reach the girl and see if she will drop the charges and then let Wilson work out a private kind of restitution with her. By now, several of their friends had arrived and we were told that they never release prisoners that quickly or for that small amount of bail. They said the only reason they were let out was because the "old obrunis" went to bat for them.
Then as we were backing up to leave, we ran into a parked car and dented the fender--a major uprising again! People kept congregating and yelling and expressing their opinions very loudly, even if they hadn't even seen the accident! Because we are so white and visible and stick out, everyone seems to know where we are and what we are doing. Members from all of the Branches began showing up at the police station. They just saw us and stopped by. Owusu had arrived a little earlier and had seen the accident. He and the owner of the car were screaming at each other and then all of a sudden, Owusu jumped in his car and the guy with the smashed fender followed him in his vehicle and they both left. We just sat there--didn't know what to do. Here we are at the police station, are involved in an accident that was clearly our fault, and then they leave. We found out later that Owusu had the guy follow him to a friend's garage to see what it would cost to fix the dent and told him we would pay for it.
We were thoroughly disgusted with Wilson and feels he really needs to learn a lesson--that regardless of what the situation is or what is said, it never should escalate into physical violence. That said, two years in a Ghanaian prison without a trial seems a little steep for a split lip. We think he should be accountable at any rate.
We finally drove home--having spent the whole day at the police station--a place I never wanted to see again and truly hope we never have the misfortune of going to again in the future.
UPDATED NOTE: The fender cost us about 55 cedis ($30). Alex signed for Wilson. Wilson claims he never struck the girl--only pushed her. Wilson has skipped town--we think he's somewhere in Accra. If he doesn't come back or get her to drop the charges, Alex might have to go to prison. What a nightmare--this justice system!
The Mission Tour and Sunyani Model
General Authorities visit our Ghanaian missions about twice a year called mission tours. We were really surprised and honored when Elder John Dickson took the time out of his busy schedule and visited Sunyani shortly after we arrived in Africa. He and his wife were delightful. We went to dinner at the Eusbett for pizza (a rare treat) and truly enjoyed their company. It was only a few weeks after his visit that Gary was called to be the District President of all Sunyani.
The official Mission Tour was in September and Elder LeGrand Curits was the visiting authority. He and his wife accompanied President and Sister Holmes to Sunyani, and after meeting with all of the missionaries, inspecting the meeting houses and then meeting with all of the Branch Presidencies and priesthood leaders, they all came to our little house for dinner. It made a lot of sense, since it always takes about 2 hours time when you order food at the Eusbett (the only semi-decent hotel and restaurant in town).
The evening and company was really wonderful. We did learn over dinner that apparently our little Sunyani is discussed quite frequently by the Prophet and Twelve Apostles. It is termed the "Sunyani Model" and is a new concept (2 years old) for opening a foreign area to missionary work.
Usually the Church sends a couple of missionaries into a new location; they proselyte, baptize, and as the membership grows, they lease meeting houses until the membership requires the building of chapels. In Sunyani, two years ago, Elder Dickson started an entirely new concept and method of opening an area. They selected Sunyani as an area to be opened, divided it into four geographical sections, leased large homes in each section and placed two missionaries in each house. The missionaries then taught the people and they would meet right there in the house they resided in. As the memberships grew, branches were formed and then the missionaries were moved out , leaving the buildings for the branch meeting houses. All of our four areas have now become branches. Two of them have the missionaries out and two of them are in the process of moving. We have also picked up additional companionships and now have twelve missionaries here in Sunyani.
We are hoping we can continue to open up new areas around Sunyani the same way and are already sending some of our missionaries out to Kenyasi, Chiraa, Techiman, and Abesim. A small number of members already living in Kenyasi have been begging for months to have the Church come there and we just got the go ahead from President Holmes to send a companionship there once a week.
We had no idea that Sunyani was the posterchild of this new concept. It does put a lot of pressure on though, knowing our progress is being watched so carefully. It is exciting however to see the Gospel spreading here in Africa.
The official Mission Tour was in September and Elder LeGrand Curits was the visiting authority. He and his wife accompanied President and Sister Holmes to Sunyani, and after meeting with all of the missionaries, inspecting the meeting houses and then meeting with all of the Branch Presidencies and priesthood leaders, they all came to our little house for dinner. It made a lot of sense, since it always takes about 2 hours time when you order food at the Eusbett (the only semi-decent hotel and restaurant in town).
The evening and company was really wonderful. We did learn over dinner that apparently our little Sunyani is discussed quite frequently by the Prophet and Twelve Apostles. It is termed the "Sunyani Model" and is a new concept (2 years old) for opening a foreign area to missionary work.
Usually the Church sends a couple of missionaries into a new location; they proselyte, baptize, and as the membership grows, they lease meeting houses until the membership requires the building of chapels. In Sunyani, two years ago, Elder Dickson started an entirely new concept and method of opening an area. They selected Sunyani as an area to be opened, divided it into four geographical sections, leased large homes in each section and placed two missionaries in each house. The missionaries then taught the people and they would meet right there in the house they resided in. As the memberships grew, branches were formed and then the missionaries were moved out , leaving the buildings for the branch meeting houses. All of our four areas have now become branches. Two of them have the missionaries out and two of them are in the process of moving. We have also picked up additional companionships and now have twelve missionaries here in Sunyani.
We are hoping we can continue to open up new areas around Sunyani the same way and are already sending some of our missionaries out to Kenyasi, Chiraa, Techiman, and Abesim. A small number of members already living in Kenyasi have been begging for months to have the Church come there and we just got the go ahead from President Holmes to send a companionship there once a week.
We had no idea that Sunyani was the posterchild of this new concept. It does put a lot of pressure on though, knowing our progress is being watched so carefully. It is exciting however to see the Gospel spreading here in Africa.
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