Per Brittany...........
President and Sister Thayne will be headed home this week from their long and noteworthy adventures in Africa. They will be speaking in church on Feb. 24th at the church located at 1762 So. River Rd in St. George, Utah @ 1pm if any of you would like to come. We are so excited to have them home and are so proud of their accomplishments and the differences they have made in so many peoples lives.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Friday, February 1, 2013
The Charcoal Lady
Our apartment complex is located on a dirt road on the outskirts of Sunyani, near the little town of Abesim. Directly across from us is a large lumber mill. This is really good because we don't have any poverty shacks nearby with no plumbing, but the sounds of saws buzzing all day (and sometimes into the night) do get a little old and nerve-racking, and the constant smell of smoke permeates the air on most days.
Literally hundreds and hundreds of gigantic tree trunks are brought into the mill daily and ripped into planks. These logs are usually 40 to 50 feet long and anywhere from 3 to 8 feet in diameter. The scrap wooden pieces left after the boards and lumber are cut and loaded into huge trucks, are then piled systematically in giant piles about the size of the kids' playhouses. Then these piles are completely covered with sawdust and lit on fire, where they smolder and burn for days until charcoal is formed. The lumber mill truly does use every bit of wood, and even the sawdust, from the destruction of those beautiful trees. It looks like a field of mini-volcanoes all spewing smoke.
As we pull in and out of our driveway and wait for our gatekeeper to pull out the giant metal door, a shadowy dark figure sits on piles of smoking wood on the other side of the road. She is completely grey, covered in soot from head to toe (an old African Cinderella), and her sunken eyes always catch mine. I began to smile and wave and now she always returns the gesture with a big grin and motions back.
The charcoal lady, as we affectionately call her, sits right on the ground near the burning coals and monitors the process. Sometimes she pokes the piles with a long stick; sometimes she throws water on them; but she is always breathing and covered with the billowing grey smoke. She looks old and withered but is probably much younger than she appears. After about a week, they let the fires burn out, pull off the sawdust, and pack up the charcoal that is left behind from the burned lumber. Then they load it in bags, pile them in the back of taxis or tro-tros and send them off to sell at the side of the road or out of one of the little shops. Then the people buy the charcoal to put on their little fires for their fufu pots.
It's black, grey, dirty and smelly and can't be healthy to sit and breathe that smoke day in and day out. But that's her life--our little charcoal with the sunken eyes.
Literally hundreds and hundreds of gigantic tree trunks are brought into the mill daily and ripped into planks. These logs are usually 40 to 50 feet long and anywhere from 3 to 8 feet in diameter. The scrap wooden pieces left after the boards and lumber are cut and loaded into huge trucks, are then piled systematically in giant piles about the size of the kids' playhouses. Then these piles are completely covered with sawdust and lit on fire, where they smolder and burn for days until charcoal is formed. The lumber mill truly does use every bit of wood, and even the sawdust, from the destruction of those beautiful trees. It looks like a field of mini-volcanoes all spewing smoke.
As we pull in and out of our driveway and wait for our gatekeeper to pull out the giant metal door, a shadowy dark figure sits on piles of smoking wood on the other side of the road. She is completely grey, covered in soot from head to toe (an old African Cinderella), and her sunken eyes always catch mine. I began to smile and wave and now she always returns the gesture with a big grin and motions back.
The charcoal lady, as we affectionately call her, sits right on the ground near the burning coals and monitors the process. Sometimes she pokes the piles with a long stick; sometimes she throws water on them; but she is always breathing and covered with the billowing grey smoke. She looks old and withered but is probably much younger than she appears. After about a week, they let the fires burn out, pull off the sawdust, and pack up the charcoal that is left behind from the burned lumber. Then they load it in bags, pile them in the back of taxis or tro-tros and send them off to sell at the side of the road or out of one of the little shops. Then the people buy the charcoal to put on their little fires for their fufu pots.
It's black, grey, dirty and smelly and can't be healthy to sit and breathe that smoke day in and day out. But that's her life--our little charcoal with the sunken eyes.
Big Snakes, Little Snakes & Ken the Snakeman
Snakes live in Africa. We have had to contend with them on several occasions. We've encountered a few black mambas and even one green mamba on our morning walks. These small unassuming little creatures are deadly, and if you are bitten and do not get to the hospital and get anti-venom within 20 minutes, you die. Of course that is IF the hospital carries the anti-venom, which Sunyani Hospital does not. The encouraging thing is that they are quite docile and are not aggressive. The missionaries have had several snakes at their apartments and Kweku even saw a large Brown at our place in Nkwabeng, shortly after we arrived in Sunyani.
When we first met Dr. and Sister Fife in Accra, they invited us up to their apartment and there, hanging all across their living room wall, was a gigantic snake skin. It stretched some 15 feet long and was 18 inches wide and looked like brown velvet. Elder Zoll and I were thoroughly intrigued. (I swear I've got some of my mother in me--she LOVED snakes.) I don't love them nor even really like them, but it was really beautiful and I kept thinking how much our three little grandsons would love to see one.
We found out that it was a Rock Python, not an endangered species, but actually very common in and around Kumasi and Sunyani, where the Zolls and we live. It regularly grows to the length of 15 feet. It is non-venomous, and kills its prey by strangulation, wrapping its muscular body around its prey until it cannot breathe, then swallows it whole and dozes off for a couple of months while it is digested. Pythons feed mainly on small antelopes, large rodents, and similar. "They are harmless to adult humans, but could conceivably kill a small child." (Now that kind of freaked me out!)
Dr. Fife contacted Ken the Snakeman to see if he could locate two more of the skins for Zolls and us. Fifes and Zolls left to go home in October and a few months later, Ken called me and said he had found two more. Ken lives in Accra and I knew that there was no way I was ever going to get President Thayne to drive ten hours to Accra to pick up a couple of snake skins. Ken said it was no problem and that he would take a tro-tro and bring them to Sunyani. A few days later, Ken called and said he was in town and to meet him at the Polytechnic College near our home. We waited and waited and then he called and asked where we were. We finally figured out that he was in Takoradi, some 8 hours away on the coast instead of Sunyani. Oh, the joys of the language barrier! He said no problem. He'd just take a tro-tro up and would meet us the next day.
We finally met Ken the Snakeman and sure enough he had two very large, very impressive Rock Python skins. We made the exchange and will be delivering one to Zolls. We can't wait to hear the grandsons all "ooh" and "aahh" and the little granddaughters scream in utter terror and disgust. It should be interesting to say the least.
When we first met Dr. and Sister Fife in Accra, they invited us up to their apartment and there, hanging all across their living room wall, was a gigantic snake skin. It stretched some 15 feet long and was 18 inches wide and looked like brown velvet. Elder Zoll and I were thoroughly intrigued. (I swear I've got some of my mother in me--she LOVED snakes.) I don't love them nor even really like them, but it was really beautiful and I kept thinking how much our three little grandsons would love to see one.
We found out that it was a Rock Python, not an endangered species, but actually very common in and around Kumasi and Sunyani, where the Zolls and we live. It regularly grows to the length of 15 feet. It is non-venomous, and kills its prey by strangulation, wrapping its muscular body around its prey until it cannot breathe, then swallows it whole and dozes off for a couple of months while it is digested. Pythons feed mainly on small antelopes, large rodents, and similar. "They are harmless to adult humans, but could conceivably kill a small child." (Now that kind of freaked me out!)
Dr. Fife contacted Ken the Snakeman to see if he could locate two more of the skins for Zolls and us. Fifes and Zolls left to go home in October and a few months later, Ken called me and said he had found two more. Ken lives in Accra and I knew that there was no way I was ever going to get President Thayne to drive ten hours to Accra to pick up a couple of snake skins. Ken said it was no problem and that he would take a tro-tro and bring them to Sunyani. A few days later, Ken called and said he was in town and to meet him at the Polytechnic College near our home. We waited and waited and then he called and asked where we were. We finally figured out that he was in Takoradi, some 8 hours away on the coast instead of Sunyani. Oh, the joys of the language barrier! He said no problem. He'd just take a tro-tro up and would meet us the next day.
We finally met Ken the Snakeman and sure enough he had two very large, very impressive Rock Python skins. We made the exchange and will be delivering one to Zolls. We can't wait to hear the grandsons all "ooh" and "aahh" and the little granddaughters scream in utter terror and disgust. It should be interesting to say the least.
A Day To Remember
Sometimes we get discouraged and wonder if we really are making a difference, and then a day comes along that makes it all worth it!
The first person we met when we arrived in Sunyani was Ellen. She is a thirteen year-old little girl (although she is much smaller, about stature of a nine year-old). She came over to Nkwabeng meetinghouse, where we lived, every afternoon to fetch water. We had running water and our place was much closer than the borehole several blocks away where she would have to carry it from if we were not home. She carried the water in five-gallon buckets and would return time and time again to get enough water for the entire household to use. The buckets of water are immensely heavy and she would lift them to the top of her head and carry them, always with the biggest smile. No one seems to know where Ellen came from or who her parents were. She lives with Auntie Mary in a crude shack next to the chapel with Mawbena, Auntie Mary's granddaughter, and several others. We all assumed that Ellen had been baptized long ago as she always attends all of the meetings with Auntie Mary but we recently found out that she had just slipped between the cracks and had never been baptized. Ellen's big day was scheduled!
Leticia is one of four children who came to Sunyani when her mother was about to give birth to a fifth child and needed help from her sister. She and her baby both died during the childbirth and the aunt took over raising the two smaller girls. We're not sure what happened to the two older children. The two girls always attended Church and the younger sister was baptized shortly after we arrived in Sunyani. The missionaries had been giving Leticia the lessons and her baptism date was also set, but the week before, one of our well-meaning sister missionaries from Nigeria found that often, on Sunday, Leticia was being sent by her aunt (who is not a member of the Church) to the corner little shop to buy bread. She felt that Leticia was not keeping the Sabbath Day holy and therefore could not be baptized. Feelings were hurt and even members of the branch were offended and it took some gentle finessing but we were able to work things out.
When we first moved from Nkwabeng to our little apartment in the country, our complex had two gatekeepers. The younger of the two was named David and Gary immediately befriended him. We helped him when his little boy got malaria and he couldn't afford medicine and then after discovering his living conditions--they were deplorable--we leased him a better room and helped move their little family into a more suitable place. We arranged for the missionaries to do a service project and line his new room with sheets of plywood to help keep out the rain and mosquitoes. David got "sacked" (fired) when he left the gate to go get medicine for his kids. He lives on the other side of Sunyani, some 10 miles away. Gary had given him a Book of Mormon and the missionaries in Fiapre began teaching him. This last Sunday, David and his little nephew Gideon, who lives with them, were ready for baptism. David's brother Frances has set his baptismal date in two weeks and David's wife Ophelia is expecting their third child any day now and will finish taking the lessons after the baby comes.
Last Sunday, Robert, the young boy who studies at our home almost every evening, asked if he could go to Church with us. We of course said yes, and we attended Nkwabeng Branch. We were so surprised to see Lydia, one of our other neighbors clear out in Abesim, there attending also. She had taken a taxi and had come on her own. After the service, we all went to Penkwase Branch where the most amazing Baptismal service was held. Ellen, Leticia, David and his nephew Gideon, and several others were all baptized by Emmanuel, who will be the very first missionary sent from Sunyani. He just received his call and will be going to Nigeria in April. It was so exciting to be a part of such an incredible and spiritual day! It was like all the hard work finally came together and it was pay day!
ADDED NOTE: We did find out later that since Robert attends Saint James Catholic School, that the students are all required to attend the Church there or they are severely beaten. When the headmaster asked Robert why he wasn't at Church, Robert simply told him he attended another Church. The headmaster assumed, I guess, that Robert meant one of the other Catholic churches in town and he wasn't beaten after all, but we certainly do not want to cause problems with him and his schooling.
The first person we met when we arrived in Sunyani was Ellen. She is a thirteen year-old little girl (although she is much smaller, about stature of a nine year-old). She came over to Nkwabeng meetinghouse, where we lived, every afternoon to fetch water. We had running water and our place was much closer than the borehole several blocks away where she would have to carry it from if we were not home. She carried the water in five-gallon buckets and would return time and time again to get enough water for the entire household to use. The buckets of water are immensely heavy and she would lift them to the top of her head and carry them, always with the biggest smile. No one seems to know where Ellen came from or who her parents were. She lives with Auntie Mary in a crude shack next to the chapel with Mawbena, Auntie Mary's granddaughter, and several others. We all assumed that Ellen had been baptized long ago as she always attends all of the meetings with Auntie Mary but we recently found out that she had just slipped between the cracks and had never been baptized. Ellen's big day was scheduled!
Leticia is one of four children who came to Sunyani when her mother was about to give birth to a fifth child and needed help from her sister. She and her baby both died during the childbirth and the aunt took over raising the two smaller girls. We're not sure what happened to the two older children. The two girls always attended Church and the younger sister was baptized shortly after we arrived in Sunyani. The missionaries had been giving Leticia the lessons and her baptism date was also set, but the week before, one of our well-meaning sister missionaries from Nigeria found that often, on Sunday, Leticia was being sent by her aunt (who is not a member of the Church) to the corner little shop to buy bread. She felt that Leticia was not keeping the Sabbath Day holy and therefore could not be baptized. Feelings were hurt and even members of the branch were offended and it took some gentle finessing but we were able to work things out.
When we first moved from Nkwabeng to our little apartment in the country, our complex had two gatekeepers. The younger of the two was named David and Gary immediately befriended him. We helped him when his little boy got malaria and he couldn't afford medicine and then after discovering his living conditions--they were deplorable--we leased him a better room and helped move their little family into a more suitable place. We arranged for the missionaries to do a service project and line his new room with sheets of plywood to help keep out the rain and mosquitoes. David got "sacked" (fired) when he left the gate to go get medicine for his kids. He lives on the other side of Sunyani, some 10 miles away. Gary had given him a Book of Mormon and the missionaries in Fiapre began teaching him. This last Sunday, David and his little nephew Gideon, who lives with them, were ready for baptism. David's brother Frances has set his baptismal date in two weeks and David's wife Ophelia is expecting their third child any day now and will finish taking the lessons after the baby comes.
Last Sunday, Robert, the young boy who studies at our home almost every evening, asked if he could go to Church with us. We of course said yes, and we attended Nkwabeng Branch. We were so surprised to see Lydia, one of our other neighbors clear out in Abesim, there attending also. She had taken a taxi and had come on her own. After the service, we all went to Penkwase Branch where the most amazing Baptismal service was held. Ellen, Leticia, David and his nephew Gideon, and several others were all baptized by Emmanuel, who will be the very first missionary sent from Sunyani. He just received his call and will be going to Nigeria in April. It was so exciting to be a part of such an incredible and spiritual day! It was like all the hard work finally came together and it was pay day!
ADDED NOTE: We did find out later that since Robert attends Saint James Catholic School, that the students are all required to attend the Church there or they are severely beaten. When the headmaster asked Robert why he wasn't at Church, Robert simply told him he attended another Church. The headmaster assumed, I guess, that Robert meant one of the other Catholic churches in town and he wasn't beaten after all, but we certainly do not want to cause problems with him and his schooling.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Bird Weavers
One morning as I was looking out our bedroom window I noticed spherical balls hanging from the branches on the trees across the road. It looked as if someone had placed Christmas ornaments on the limbs. We walked over to see what they were and found dozens and dozens of quite lovely little bird nests.
They were the work of the masked bird weavers who are closely related to sparrows. They are roughly the same size but the males are much more colorful and have a bright yellow breast. They build intricate and elaborate nests--a roughly oval ball of dried grass, reeds, and twigs. The males build the nests and it was fascinating to watch them at work. First the nest site was chosen, usually at the end of a thin hanging branch, which was immediately stripped of leaves to protect against snakes. The weaver then flies back and forth to the site, carrying the building materials blade by blade in its heavy beak, first using a few thick strands to hang a skeletal nest from the end of a branch, then gradually completing the structure by interweaving numerous thinner blades of grass into the main frame.
They were the work of the masked bird weavers who are closely related to sparrows. They are roughly the same size but the males are much more colorful and have a bright yellow breast. They build intricate and elaborate nests--a roughly oval ball of dried grass, reeds, and twigs. The males build the nests and it was fascinating to watch them at work. First the nest site was chosen, usually at the end of a thin hanging branch, which was immediately stripped of leaves to protect against snakes. The weaver then flies back and forth to the site, carrying the building materials blade by blade in its heavy beak, first using a few thick strands to hang a skeletal nest from the end of a branch, then gradually completing the structure by interweaving numerous thinner blades of grass into the main frame.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Fiapre Sacrament Meeting
On Sundays, we usually attend one of the four branches and alternate between them during the month. The Branch President of Fiapre, President Mills, and his family had traveled to Accra, so we decided to go there. The meeting is supposed to start at 9am, and at 9am there were only four people there, the missionaries--Elder Larsen and Elder Otagba--and us. Samuel, the first counselor and the one conducting arrived at 9:10 and Sister Affiah, the Relief Society President who was speaking, came at 9:19. We began the meeting at 9:20am with six people. Ghanaian people are never on time for anything and they are not at all intimidated by speaking in public--in fact, they can all rant and rave and even the children are not afraid to give talks Samuel conducted and one of the missionaries led the singing (which is always off-key and draggy), but they sing their little hearts out. During the song, Gate-David and two other men arrived, followed by five little kids. Two of them were twins and when they came in they were carrying a loaf of bread. The two of them proceeded to sit on the front row and divided the bread between them, dropping crunbs all over the floor. Fiapre has a good number of children who attend every week without their parents. They love Primary and are learning the Gospel.
Elder Larsen and President Thayne blessed the Sacrament and Elder Otagba passed. When Sacrament was over, Samuel thanked "Father" (what they call Gary) for helping to bless the bread.
Sister Affiah gave the first talk. She speaks all in Twi, so we don't understand a word, but you could feel the spirit and the strength of her testimony. In the middle of her talk, her phone, which was in her purse in the congregation, rang. One of the little kids, reached over, picked it up and took it up to her. Without even hestitating, she took it, said something, hung up, and then carried on with her message. President Thayne was the concluding speaker.
When we finished Sacrament Meeting there were seventeen of us. I taught Primary (as Sister Mills was gone). The entire block was simple, pure and humble. I'm certain the Lord looked down and smiled as his heart was touched by the sweet spirit that filled the little Fiapre chapel that Sunday morning.
Elder Larsen and President Thayne blessed the Sacrament and Elder Otagba passed. When Sacrament was over, Samuel thanked "Father" (what they call Gary) for helping to bless the bread.
Sister Affiah gave the first talk. She speaks all in Twi, so we don't understand a word, but you could feel the spirit and the strength of her testimony. In the middle of her talk, her phone, which was in her purse in the congregation, rang. One of the little kids, reached over, picked it up and took it up to her. Without even hestitating, she took it, said something, hung up, and then carried on with her message. President Thayne was the concluding speaker.
When we finished Sacrament Meeting there were seventeen of us. I taught Primary (as Sister Mills was gone). The entire block was simple, pure and humble. I'm certain the Lord looked down and smiled as his heart was touched by the sweet spirit that filled the little Fiapre chapel that Sunday morning.
Good Boy
We live in a gated compound on the outskirts of Sunyani. The complex is surrounded by a high cement and iron wall and we have two gatekeepers who act as security. They are here 24 hours and take turns sleeping overnight. They open and shut the huge metal gates at the entrance when we come and go. There are seven little apartment-type condos within the walls. We were the first tenants to move in but now all of them are leased. Of course we are the only "obrunis". The other residents are all working, high-class people and we really like all of them. Our closest neighbor is an older woman who has a high-ranking job at one of the major banks in town. Enoch is a wheeler-dealer who has lived in the states for many years and he is only here occasionally. The rest are single guys or at least they live alone here and their families live in Accra or some other place. Richard and Edward work for Newmont, a huge gold-mining company about an hour out of town.
One morning we could hear a dog barking, with a "big dog" bark. This is really unusual because the dogs in Sunyani are not pets--they are considered a food source. They are small, unappealing, scruffy, mongrel-types that scavenge for food and when things get pretty tough, they often go in the fufu stew. The barking belonged to a huge golden brown dog who looks like a cross between a rotweiller and a yellow lab, and belongs to Richard, who brought him from Accra. His name is "Good Boy" and they have made a pen behind the apartments for him. He is quite intimidating to everyone, which is good because it enhances the security. We love him dearly because he looks a lot like Zeke, our yellow lab at home and he is about the same size.
The gatekeepers have taken to him and they walk him around the complex and even let him run when no one is home. Every day a young woman comes to the front gate with a huge basket of food containing a dry-type dog food mixed with large amounts of fresh meat and vegetables. We really like Good Boy but it occured to us that he probably eats much better and healthier than most of the people who live in Sunyani.
One morning we could hear a dog barking, with a "big dog" bark. This is really unusual because the dogs in Sunyani are not pets--they are considered a food source. They are small, unappealing, scruffy, mongrel-types that scavenge for food and when things get pretty tough, they often go in the fufu stew. The barking belonged to a huge golden brown dog who looks like a cross between a rotweiller and a yellow lab, and belongs to Richard, who brought him from Accra. His name is "Good Boy" and they have made a pen behind the apartments for him. He is quite intimidating to everyone, which is good because it enhances the security. We love him dearly because he looks a lot like Zeke, our yellow lab at home and he is about the same size.
The gatekeepers have taken to him and they walk him around the complex and even let him run when no one is home. Every day a young woman comes to the front gate with a huge basket of food containing a dry-type dog food mixed with large amounts of fresh meat and vegetables. We really like Good Boy but it occured to us that he probably eats much better and healthier than most of the people who live in Sunyani.
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