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.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
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.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Safari!
We obtained the Mission President's permission and blessing and our adventure began. Salasi, our tour guide, picked up the Zolls and Fifes in Kumasi, then they drove up to "collect" us in Sunyani and we all started out in our own personal "tro-tro" for deepest, darkest Africa. Eight and a half hours later, after a very bumpy, pot-hole dodging drive over dirt roads with only one potty-stop, we finally arrived at Mole. The first thing we saw after entering the reserve, was a gigantic, fierce-looking warthog. He was right at the side of the road and his tusks curled menacingly up from his lower jaw! We were all so excited--a real life African animal! We finally got enough nerve to sneak out of the other side of the van to try to get pictures! Salasi was quite amused--we found out later that warthogs are like dogs--they are very common and are everywhere, even around the motel itself.
The motel actually looks like just that....a tacky, 1960's something Motel 6....no frills: 2 twin beds as hard as plywood; water that only runs from 6:30 a.m. until about 8 a.m. on a good day; and two large plastic buckets in the bathroom filled with water to pour into the toilet when you needed to flush or pour over your head when you needed a shower. There are two sections of rooms and then in the center, an office, dining area, and.......a gorgeous, sparkling clean, well-maintained swimming pool! The best we've seen in all of Ghana. Gary actually had his first swim in Africa in this pool. He has missed his daily swims so much and he LOVED it!
The motel's setting is incredible! It sits high on a cliff. There is a large viewing platform on the edge under a mammoth twisted old tree, that overlooks the watering holes below. REAL African animals (instead of chickens and goats) are visible, not only in the savannah fields and jungle below, but also running around the motel grounds. Warthogs were everywhere, as well as monkeys and huge baboons. They are wild but have become somewhat accustomed to people so we were cautious, but could actually get quite close. It was an amazing place to wake up to the sound of baboons clattering over the roof or barking outside our window.
FIRST ENCOUNTERS:
We left very early, at first light, on the preliminary morning treking safari. The six of us were assigned to a guide named Christopher. After we all pulled on knee-high rubber boots, Christopher, with bush rifle in hand, led us down the cliff toward the watering hole. We saw dozens of Kob (really beautiful antelopes) and Water Bucks, that resembled a cross between a donkey and a moose. After we reached the savannah below, we plodded through mud, rivers and grasslands and then pushed our way into an outcropping of a wooded area of jungle. All of a sudden, right in front of us--only a few feet above, on a small ridge, a huge shadow loomed up, blocked by the sunshine of the early morning sun! It was one of those times when you knew you should be terrified but the majestic beauty of a gigantic male elephant kept every one of us paralyzed and in awe! As we all just stood there, even too startled to take pictures, we heard a crashing to our right and realized we were between two of these most magnificent creatures! Christopher motioned us to quietly back away, but not before the cameras started snapping. The elephants knew we were there but just kept eating trees and pushing them over in the process. I've seen many elephants (in the zoo, circus, at fairs, etc.) but this was one of those surreal lifetime experiences! To actually come face to face with such a gigantic beautiful wild creature in its own habitat was unbelievable!
After a while we backed out of the thicket and wandered into the grasslands again to watch the other wildlife. It was incredible! Right when we thought it couldn't get any better (some visitors never even see an elephant) the whole experience became even more amazing! We approached one of the watering holes and there in the middle of the murky water were four male elephants bathing and frolicking and play-fighting. We sat very quietly on little benches and watched as they splashed and head-butted each other! Then a much larger male smashed through the grass and approached the water! He threw his bead back and tossed his gigantic ears and trunk to let the others know who was in charge. Then, he too lumbered into the water. What a sight! We watched and snapped pictures and movies for the longest time and then the elephants all climbed up and out of the watering hole and disappeared back into the bush.
We began heading back to the motel and as we crossed a small river, those of us shorter people managed to somehow fill our rubber boots with water making it necessary to sit on the ground, empty the water and wring out our socks. Then it was back to the motel for breakfast with everyone of us feeling like the whole trip had already met and surpassed all expectaions!
CANOE TRIP:
Our next adventure was a canoe trip up the Bole River. Salasi and a guy named Muhammed arranged for us to board two very delapitated canoes--three of us in each one. The guides became very agitated and finally told us we had to switch boats. Both Bud Zoll and Dr. Fife are big guys and were too heavy to go together in the smaller boat. We switched and it was a good thing as even with the three of us who were smaller, there was barely an inch between the water level and the edge of the canoe. We didn't dare hardly breathe for fear of capsizing. Our guides paddled up the river engulfed on both sides by encroaching jungle, making the excursion dark and rather foreboding. We rounded a corner to see a small boy, perched precariously on the limb of a tree overhanging the black water. It was a pertfect reinactment of Huckleberry Finn--African style. He was fishing, lowering a line into the river below. Next to him, on another line, hung three fish he had already pulled from out of the deep. We returned to the dock where a man on a motorcycle was waiting for us. As soon as we disembarked, he and our guides lifted the motorcyle up and into the canoe and off they went to transport him across the river.
MOGNORI - ECO VILLAGE:
We next visited a small mud-hut town called Mognori. It is what they call an "eco village", conceived in 2003 after all the locals' crops were destroyed by wild elephants, so the village was set up to provide travellers with the opportunity to experience authentic rural jungle life, paying a few cedis and providing the little town with a source of income. It is possible to actually stay overnight in a hut, but we were just able to have a guided village walk and a watch a drumming and dancing performance by the local inhabitants--old, young, male, female--everyone participated. They live just like they have for centuries: no plumbing or running water, no electricity--only mud huts and open fire pits. The only modern thing to be seen was a large, solar-powered light erected on a tall pole in the center of the village. It was like stepping back in time through hundreds of years.
LARABANGA:
Next we travelled to the village of Larabanga. only 5 km from our motel. It is a fascinating place with amazing examples of the traditional flat-roofed mud "kraals". The town is made up of 100% muslims, so the six of us, all obrunis and all wearing "Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints" nametags must have been quite a spectical. The mosque at Larabanga is probably the oldest extant building in Ghana. Some say it was built in the 13th century, but most sources fix on the year 1421. It is very old and a truly strange and inspiring site. We were shown around the town, watched how shea butter is made, but were not allowed to enter inside the mosque as Christians are forbidden.
ENDING A GREAT GETAWAY:
On out last evening in Mole, we rode down to one of the watering holes and climbed to the top of a lookout tower and watched as the sun set on the grasslands and the many wild creatures that live there, and it also set on our little Safari getaway. The next morning, bright and early, we returned to Sunyani and missionary work with only a quick stop at Kintampo Falls for lunch.
Hit and Run --- Literally!
Gary was on one of his early morning bike rides through the little town of Abesim on the outskirts of Sunyani. A gentleman crossed the road in front of him and then, for no reason, turned and without looking walked directly back into Gary and his bike. The man was knocked to the ground and Gary immediately ran to see if he was hurt.
He wouldn't talk, but just scowled and Gary could see he wasn't hurt--just shaken up a bit. Immediately a crowd started gathering and discussing the crash. Everyone began screaming and yelling and the crowd of people got bigger and bigger. Ghanaians when they are upset are somewhat loud under the best of circumstances and they are highly excitable. Their emotions tend to accelerate and they literally can work themselves into a frenzy--especially in crowd situations.
Gary remembered our preliminary instructions warning obrunis to be very careful about getting involved in any large gatherings or public demonstrations. The "foreigner" will always be absolutely in the wrong and this entire situation was beginning to escalate out of control. Everyone had an opinion, whether they had seen the accident or not, and were yelling in Twi. Forget trying to explain anything in English! The situation grew increasingly worse as more and more people gathered around--all VERY excited and all VERY loudly vocalizing their own opinions.
Gary saw no good end in sight, so he approached the man who had been hit, shook his hand and got on his bike and got "outah Dodge" as quickly as possible. He realized for the first time that we are definitely the outsiders and that compromising situations will very probably produce a no win. Ghanaians truly do not react or think like Americans. In a crisis situation, we generally are visably upset and perhaps even out of control and vocal at first, and then we usually think it over, calm down, and attempt to rectify the situation. Ghanaians are somewhat stoic at first and then react with increasing agitation which then escalates many times beyond control.
It was a good lesson. We will try to be more careful and keep in mind that we are in their country and that it is best to remember our mission instructions and remove ourselves from any conflict as soon as possible.
He wouldn't talk, but just scowled and Gary could see he wasn't hurt--just shaken up a bit. Immediately a crowd started gathering and discussing the crash. Everyone began screaming and yelling and the crowd of people got bigger and bigger. Ghanaians when they are upset are somewhat loud under the best of circumstances and they are highly excitable. Their emotions tend to accelerate and they literally can work themselves into a frenzy--especially in crowd situations.
Gary remembered our preliminary instructions warning obrunis to be very careful about getting involved in any large gatherings or public demonstrations. The "foreigner" will always be absolutely in the wrong and this entire situation was beginning to escalate out of control. Everyone had an opinion, whether they had seen the accident or not, and were yelling in Twi. Forget trying to explain anything in English! The situation grew increasingly worse as more and more people gathered around--all VERY excited and all VERY loudly vocalizing their own opinions.
Gary saw no good end in sight, so he approached the man who had been hit, shook his hand and got on his bike and got "outah Dodge" as quickly as possible. He realized for the first time that we are definitely the outsiders and that compromising situations will very probably produce a no win. Ghanaians truly do not react or think like Americans. In a crisis situation, we generally are visably upset and perhaps even out of control and vocal at first, and then we usually think it over, calm down, and attempt to rectify the situation. Ghanaians are somewhat stoic at first and then react with increasing agitation which then escalates many times beyond control.
It was a good lesson. We will try to be more careful and keep in mind that we are in their country and that it is best to remember our mission instructions and remove ourselves from any conflict as soon as possible.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)