As many of you know, my grandfather recently passed away. As a result, the past few weeks have indeed been a time of challenge. It has been a challenge to say goodbye from a distance to a man that was an enormous part of my life, and it has been a challenge to be so far away from the rest of my family during a time of longing to be close to them, to be together with them, to share even moments of grief which we would then share for the rest of our lives. But in all my sadness and longing, I trust my God and His timing, His timing for life and for death. When there is nothing more I can do, I must trust His plan and purpose.
Recently I traveled to the lively fishing town of Elmina. It is a picturesque and welcoming town built on sandy, palm-tree lined beaches, but it is most well known as the site of St. George's Castle, the oldest European structure still standing in sub-Saharan Africa. A Unesco World Heritage Site, built in 1482 by the Portuguese but captured in 1637 by the Dutch, the castle served as the African Headquarters for the Dutch West Indies Company, initially storing gold, but as slaves became the major object of commerce, the storerooms were converted to dungeons.
The impressive white castle sits on the edge of town for all to see. We crossed a bridge over the fishing harbor filled with painted wooden boats, men bringing in their catch, women meeting the men to take the fish and collect them in huge metal bowls. Then we walked on a small drawbridge over the large empty moat. As we journeyed through the castle, we were taken to the dungeons where we heard horrible stories of how men, women, and children had been inhumanely treated there. They were allowed to bathe only once every three months, they were fed only once a week, they were chained together in the cells, forced to relieve themselves in the corner, and given only one small hole for light and ventilation. The cells seem to smell of human wretchedness even to this day. I walked through the dungeons, the punishment cells, and the slave auctioning room, hearing the stark reality of the castle's horrid history, imagining the fear, anxiety, and hopelessness that filled the people who had been trapped within the castle's walls, in the places where I stood.
After Elmina we traveled onto Kakum National Park where we walked on a rope and cable canopy walkway, made of seven viewing platforms connected by narrow suspension bridges hung hundreds of feet above the rainforest floor, providing a spectacular view of God's creation, in sharp contrast to the man-made hell I'd just seen in the walls of St. George's.
In the past week, I read a novel by Elizabeth Berg, The Handmaid and the Carpenter. It is the story of Mary and Joseph, and how they struggled with the news of Mary's pregnancy. While reading the story, I recognized Mary and Joseph as real humans, as you and I are human - emotional, inquisitive, in love with each other, in love with God, devoted, but capable of doubt. Never before did I truly understand their humanity and the reality of the circumstances they faced.
Since coming to Ghana I have learned the truth of our humanity. The truth that we live and we die, the truth that there is both good and evil all around us, the truth of a world created with abounding beauty despite the evil, and the truth that a baby was born to a poor humble girl in a dirty stable to grow into a man, a completely human man who would die to save me from myself and to redeem our world, as mixed with good and evil as it is. This is the truth of our humanity in God's good hands.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Deep calls to Deep
Deep calls to deep
in the roar of you waterfalls
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.
--Psalm 42:7
This past weekend, Becci, Anna, and I rode three hours north in a tightly packed tro-tro to the town of Hohoe (pronounced Ho-ho-ay). It was a weekend full of incredible hikes through Jungle Book rainforest's, alongside rivers, and with views of neighboring mountains and neighboring Togo.
Friday we went to Wli Waterfalls. After an hour-long hike we approached hundreds of butterflies with the striking falls up ahead, they are the tallest in West Africa and are indeed impressive. We put down our bags, stripped down to our swim suits, and walked slowly into the pool of icy, but refreshing, water. As we moved closer and closer to the falls, the air was rushing and blowing water everywhere, blinding us. So we put our backs to the falls and took one step at a time, fighting the forces, and finally arriving directly beneath the falls. The pressure was incredible as the water was crashing down, rushing and roaring around me.
After the swim, we decided to hike up the mountain to the upper falls. At the beginning the guide, offered us walking sticks... not a good sign. It was a challenging and tedious hike, but as we climbed higher and higher I found pleasure in the work and my vulnerability, as I witnessed God's beauty surrounding me. It's an incredible experience to push yourself like that, mentally and physically, and only once the falls were reached did I truly appreciate my efforts and the new perspective that came from being on top.
Saturday we went to Togba Falls, and took an easier hike through the beautiful rainforest complete with eight wooden bridges, at the ends of which were clusters of bright yellow butterflies. At the falls we swam a little and then enjoyed a tiny picnic. On Sunday we went to Logba-Tota, another waterfall and also a cave. After yet another challenging hike, now on sore legs from the past few days, we arrived at a most beautiful fall hidden in a corner of the mountain. We put down our bags, went into the water up to our waists and then hoisted ourselves into the small, dark cave.
In life we are constantly surrounded by majesty, and as I struggled through one hike after another, I was reminded by how amazing God's love is that he would give us a world so full of beauty, and I was reminded by how small I am compared to the greatness of His creation.
The mountains sing your glory, hallelujah
The canyons echo sweet amazing grace
My spirit sails, the mighty gales are bellowing your name
and I've got nothing to say
Glory, Glory Hallelujah
--Andrew Peterson
in the roar of you waterfalls
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.
--Psalm 42:7
This past weekend, Becci, Anna, and I rode three hours north in a tightly packed tro-tro to the town of Hohoe (pronounced Ho-ho-ay). It was a weekend full of incredible hikes through Jungle Book rainforest's, alongside rivers, and with views of neighboring mountains and neighboring Togo.
Friday we went to Wli Waterfalls. After an hour-long hike we approached hundreds of butterflies with the striking falls up ahead, they are the tallest in West Africa and are indeed impressive. We put down our bags, stripped down to our swim suits, and walked slowly into the pool of icy, but refreshing, water. As we moved closer and closer to the falls, the air was rushing and blowing water everywhere, blinding us. So we put our backs to the falls and took one step at a time, fighting the forces, and finally arriving directly beneath the falls. The pressure was incredible as the water was crashing down, rushing and roaring around me.
After the swim, we decided to hike up the mountain to the upper falls. At the beginning the guide, offered us walking sticks... not a good sign. It was a challenging and tedious hike, but as we climbed higher and higher I found pleasure in the work and my vulnerability, as I witnessed God's beauty surrounding me. It's an incredible experience to push yourself like that, mentally and physically, and only once the falls were reached did I truly appreciate my efforts and the new perspective that came from being on top.
Saturday we went to Togba Falls, and took an easier hike through the beautiful rainforest complete with eight wooden bridges, at the ends of which were clusters of bright yellow butterflies. At the falls we swam a little and then enjoyed a tiny picnic. On Sunday we went to Logba-Tota, another waterfall and also a cave. After yet another challenging hike, now on sore legs from the past few days, we arrived at a most beautiful fall hidden in a corner of the mountain. We put down our bags, went into the water up to our waists and then hoisted ourselves into the small, dark cave.
In life we are constantly surrounded by majesty, and as I struggled through one hike after another, I was reminded by how amazing God's love is that he would give us a world so full of beauty, and I was reminded by how small I am compared to the greatness of His creation.
The mountains sing your glory, hallelujah
The canyons echo sweet amazing grace
My spirit sails, the mighty gales are bellowing your name
and I've got nothing to say
Glory, Glory Hallelujah
--Andrew Peterson
Friday, November 24, 2006
Tamale and Mr. Doku
Recently I traveled north twelve hours to the dry, dusty city of Tamale to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the Northern Presbytery of the Presbyterian Church of Ghana. It was a typical Ghanaian religious celebration: we sat outside, under tents, in a large square with the congregation on three sides while pastors and invited guests sat at the front; there were about two thousand people and at least ninety percent wore clothes made of matching pale yellow fabric printed specifically for the Northern Presbytery; the service was long, almost five hours, complete with many messages, hymns, dancing, music from the brass band and choir, and three offerings.
As I listened to the messages it was quickly evident why this celebration is important. As the moderator spoke, he shared the history of the church and the sacrifice of the early missionaries who originally arrived less than one hundred years ago. He said this celebration was a special tribute to them -- these missionaries came into a country where they faced death and struggled for years to share the truth of Christ.
Today, Tamale is a city of almost eighty percent Muslim, and a city where dissention exists between Christians and Muslims. This is true for much of Nothern Ghana, as it is true in other ways for all of Ghana and around the world. In my travels around this country I have experienced the unique diversity among the many tribes, including the eighty-five languages, as well as the diversity among religions and even denominations. Diversity in Ghana cannot be avoided, and as I read the blogs of fellow YAVs in Belfast I am reminded that the reality of this diversity is a universal truth. We are indeed a world of diversity, we are a world confronted by differences and struggling to understand them and respond to them. But we cannot let them overcome us, we must learn to embrace them and each other.
The moderator encouraged the people to not relent the efforts of the missionaries, and rather to "bring peace to the North, be united as one people, and unite under the banner of Christ." I imagine the defeat the early missionaries felt, I imagine their cries to God as they suffered to share His truth to a people who were different from what that had ever known, but fifty years later, as I shared in celebration I was a witness to the fruit of their labor.
This week I invited the other volunteers to my house to celebrate Thanksgiving. After a failed attempt to find a turkey in the capital of Accra, Ashley and I were taken to a turkey farm in Ho. There we picked out a turkey, promptly named him Mr. Doku (the Ewe word for turkey), and then took him to a nearby hotel to be slaughtered and defeathered. To say the least, it was a unique and wonderful Thanksgiving, the girls and I prepared our dinner together, full of gratitude for familiar food and each others friendship on this journey.
In school we are taught the importance of history: through awareness of the past we will be better prepared for the future. This year I reflected on the history of Thanksgiving, the Pilgrims coming together and experiencing success, and I was reminded that unity equals success. I witnessed a church celebrating fifty years in a country full of diversity and striving to unite despite difference, all the while filled with constant gratitude for the distance they have come thus far. If only we could remember the past, and God's constant provision, then perhaps one day we will be able to embrace diversity.
As I listened to the messages it was quickly evident why this celebration is important. As the moderator spoke, he shared the history of the church and the sacrifice of the early missionaries who originally arrived less than one hundred years ago. He said this celebration was a special tribute to them -- these missionaries came into a country where they faced death and struggled for years to share the truth of Christ.
Today, Tamale is a city of almost eighty percent Muslim, and a city where dissention exists between Christians and Muslims. This is true for much of Nothern Ghana, as it is true in other ways for all of Ghana and around the world. In my travels around this country I have experienced the unique diversity among the many tribes, including the eighty-five languages, as well as the diversity among religions and even denominations. Diversity in Ghana cannot be avoided, and as I read the blogs of fellow YAVs in Belfast I am reminded that the reality of this diversity is a universal truth. We are indeed a world of diversity, we are a world confronted by differences and struggling to understand them and respond to them. But we cannot let them overcome us, we must learn to embrace them and each other.
The moderator encouraged the people to not relent the efforts of the missionaries, and rather to "bring peace to the North, be united as one people, and unite under the banner of Christ." I imagine the defeat the early missionaries felt, I imagine their cries to God as they suffered to share His truth to a people who were different from what that had ever known, but fifty years later, as I shared in celebration I was a witness to the fruit of their labor.
This week I invited the other volunteers to my house to celebrate Thanksgiving. After a failed attempt to find a turkey in the capital of Accra, Ashley and I were taken to a turkey farm in Ho. There we picked out a turkey, promptly named him Mr. Doku (the Ewe word for turkey), and then took him to a nearby hotel to be slaughtered and defeathered. To say the least, it was a unique and wonderful Thanksgiving, the girls and I prepared our dinner together, full of gratitude for familiar food and each others friendship on this journey.
In school we are taught the importance of history: through awareness of the past we will be better prepared for the future. This year I reflected on the history of Thanksgiving, the Pilgrims coming together and experiencing success, and I was reminded that unity equals success. I witnessed a church celebrating fifty years in a country full of diversity and striving to unite despite difference, all the while filled with constant gratitude for the distance they have come thus far. If only we could remember the past, and God's constant provision, then perhaps one day we will be able to embrace diversity.
Monday, November 13, 2006
An Ordinary Day
At four a.m. a church bell rings down the street from my house. I lay in bed as the sun starts to rise, and the birds, chickens, and goats, wake up and make their presence known. Listen to the roosters crow. At five my neighbors have devotions that begin with singing and clapping hands. I fall in and out of sleep as I listen to the animals, singing, and clapping. Hear neighbors sweeping with brooms made of sticks. The sun has risen by six and shortly after I am out of bed to shower, dress, and have breakfast.
A little before eight I leave home to attend devotions with staff of the EPC Headquarters. Pass students in brightly colored school uniforms. Look down the hill into town and notice dust from the Harmattan that is easily mistaken for fog. In devotions we sing hymns, read scripture, pray, and listen to a message; all of which is in Ewe, except when I am told the scripture reference and a couple sentences of the message. Devotions are over after about thirty minutes.
Feel the weight of heat and clothes damp from sweat. Then I walk into town to Maxvin Publishing and Press Shop. Hear taxis honk warning people and animals to move out of the way. Watch goats cross the road. There I help with editing and other various tasks that take place at a primitive publishing house in Ghana: individually sorting pages and hand sowing bindings of books. The work is simple, but important, because I am building relationships with my colleagues as we share the same tasks and talk about our lives, families, and values.
I have a lunch break around noon, when I walk back home. Smell the sweetness of roasting plantains. Greet the woman selling eggs and bread. Once home, I eat and rest, and then return to Maxvin for the afternoon or go to the local EPC Bookshop. There I meet with Gloria, a middle-aged woman who runs the shop -- I help her with work and she teaches me Ewe (which is proving to be quite difficult). The bookshop is entertaining, people coming and going, and I am challenged by Gloria to speak in Ewe. Sit in the bookshop and watch women with babies on their backs retrieving water from a well. Notice a woman carry a tray of oranges on her head. On other afternoons I go to an afternoon program for kids, ages ranging from four to eighteen. There, Becci, Anna, and I, read a Bible story, sing songs, and play games. One night a week I go to a Bible study in town with a young women I work with. Not only is this time for me to study the Word, it has also been a great way for me to try to understand the ways that God is worshiped and understood in this culture.
Once evening has arrived, I walk through town on my way home, stopping by the small market or shop to pick up some food. I am stopped on the street, asked my name and home, where I am going and where I am coming from, where I work and where I live -- the people of Ghana want to know me, they welcome me to their country, into their homes and lives. I give them my time and do not pull away when they take my hand, I am accepted and welcomed as I tell them who I am and fumble through their language. Once home, in effort to cool down, I almost immediately shower. Feel the cold water turn hot when it hits your body. Then the girls and I fix dinner together, often experimenting and trying new things with our limited ingredients, and finally we eat. I read for a bit, and go to bed around nine or ten.
A little before eight I leave home to attend devotions with staff of the EPC Headquarters. Pass students in brightly colored school uniforms. Look down the hill into town and notice dust from the Harmattan that is easily mistaken for fog. In devotions we sing hymns, read scripture, pray, and listen to a message; all of which is in Ewe, except when I am told the scripture reference and a couple sentences of the message. Devotions are over after about thirty minutes.
Feel the weight of heat and clothes damp from sweat. Then I walk into town to Maxvin Publishing and Press Shop. Hear taxis honk warning people and animals to move out of the way. Watch goats cross the road. There I help with editing and other various tasks that take place at a primitive publishing house in Ghana: individually sorting pages and hand sowing bindings of books. The work is simple, but important, because I am building relationships with my colleagues as we share the same tasks and talk about our lives, families, and values.
I have a lunch break around noon, when I walk back home. Smell the sweetness of roasting plantains. Greet the woman selling eggs and bread. Once home, I eat and rest, and then return to Maxvin for the afternoon or go to the local EPC Bookshop. There I meet with Gloria, a middle-aged woman who runs the shop -- I help her with work and she teaches me Ewe (which is proving to be quite difficult). The bookshop is entertaining, people coming and going, and I am challenged by Gloria to speak in Ewe. Sit in the bookshop and watch women with babies on their backs retrieving water from a well. Notice a woman carry a tray of oranges on her head. On other afternoons I go to an afternoon program for kids, ages ranging from four to eighteen. There, Becci, Anna, and I, read a Bible story, sing songs, and play games. One night a week I go to a Bible study in town with a young women I work with. Not only is this time for me to study the Word, it has also been a great way for me to try to understand the ways that God is worshiped and understood in this culture.
Once evening has arrived, I walk through town on my way home, stopping by the small market or shop to pick up some food. I am stopped on the street, asked my name and home, where I am going and where I am coming from, where I work and where I live -- the people of Ghana want to know me, they welcome me to their country, into their homes and lives. I give them my time and do not pull away when they take my hand, I am accepted and welcomed as I tell them who I am and fumble through their language. Once home, in effort to cool down, I almost immediately shower. Feel the cold water turn hot when it hits your body. Then the girls and I fix dinner together, often experimenting and trying new things with our limited ingredients, and finally we eat. I read for a bit, and go to bed around nine or ten.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Lots of Thoughts
The past two weeks I have lived alone. My roommates are kindergarten teachers and right now the public school teachers are on strike, indefinitely. They have taken advantage of this time, and have been traveling. It's not so bad being alone, I am able to keep myself busy by shopping for food, learning to cook, cleaning, doing laundry, reading, spending time with the women I work with, traveling on weekends... But the worst part has been the absence of people to communicate with about real things, I have no companions who understand my perspective. This has been a huge challenge, I have had much time to think and absorb what I am witnessing and experiencing, but no one to talk to about it... And so the next few paragraphs are the result of me alone with my thoughts.
-------
For a long time I have been unsure with what location to identify myself with. I have always been a visitor to my home. I have always been just passing through, knowing that I came from one place, and in time I will move on to another. I was born in a place I do not remember, and a place my parents are not from -- we then spent the next twelve years moving from place to place. Finally, to stop, but yet I was burdened by the desire to continue moving. Now, in the past four years, I have lived in three places. But even this I will be leaving. Will I ever have a location that is my own? There is a tension in my heart, a tension to plant roots, but to also see and experience what the world has to offer. What is my calling?
-------
I have just finished reading East of Eden, by John Steinbeck; it is an incredible story and I will definitely read it again. The most compelling theme was the power of choice: "Thou mayest rule over sin... The Hebrew word, the word timshel -- 'Thou mayest' -- that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on man. For if 'Thou mayest' -- it is also true that 'Thou mayest not'... For in his weakness... he still has the great choice. He can chose his course and fight and win."
-------
Nearly every day I think about how my life, once I return home, will be changed by being here. I wonder, as an American and a Christian, as someone with opportunity -- opportunity to be educated, to make money, to travel -- what is my responsibility? How do I effectively contribute to the world and give back to my God who has given me so much? I also think about sacrifice, and how the previous sacrifices of my life have really cost me nothing; I have always been comfortable and satisfied, a luxury most of the world is never able to truly know. How much do you give up, of your money, your time, and your life? All of it? But what does that mean?
-------
The sermon in church on Sunday was about greatness as a result of service rather than strength; I agreed with everything until comments were made about the US. The pastor said the US starts wars so we can be in control and we destroy other nations to be the greatest nation. Whether you agree with what is going on in the world right now and the involvement of the US, I think this generalization misuderstands the basic intentions of my country. I don't believe we are in war because we are seeking to be the greatest. I think, rather, we are in war because we are taking responsibility for being greatest. We are the greatest nation in the world, because we have strength and wealth, and we provide opportunity for the world improve through our service. We sacrifice our men and women, daily, not to be great, but because we are great and because of that we have to be involved. Further, we are responsible to the world, but primarily we are responsible to ourselves, there is brokenness and sin and we must protect our nation. The pastor finally concluded the service and said, "What contribution are you making to your community and family...? Jesus wanted everyone to be great, but we must be great in service, humility, and love."
-------
And so I am left with these thoughts, I am left with questions and no answers. As Steinbeck said it best, I am left with a great choice, the choice to chose my course, fight, and win. I am left with the choice to be great through service, humility, and love. And maybe, when I ultimately make this choice, I will discover my responsibility and calling.
If you have any thoughts on what I've written, please email me at Nora.Jorgensen@gordon.edu.
-------
For a long time I have been unsure with what location to identify myself with. I have always been a visitor to my home. I have always been just passing through, knowing that I came from one place, and in time I will move on to another. I was born in a place I do not remember, and a place my parents are not from -- we then spent the next twelve years moving from place to place. Finally, to stop, but yet I was burdened by the desire to continue moving. Now, in the past four years, I have lived in three places. But even this I will be leaving. Will I ever have a location that is my own? There is a tension in my heart, a tension to plant roots, but to also see and experience what the world has to offer. What is my calling?
-------
I have just finished reading East of Eden, by John Steinbeck; it is an incredible story and I will definitely read it again. The most compelling theme was the power of choice: "Thou mayest rule over sin... The Hebrew word, the word timshel -- 'Thou mayest' -- that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on man. For if 'Thou mayest' -- it is also true that 'Thou mayest not'... For in his weakness... he still has the great choice. He can chose his course and fight and win."
-------
Nearly every day I think about how my life, once I return home, will be changed by being here. I wonder, as an American and a Christian, as someone with opportunity -- opportunity to be educated, to make money, to travel -- what is my responsibility? How do I effectively contribute to the world and give back to my God who has given me so much? I also think about sacrifice, and how the previous sacrifices of my life have really cost me nothing; I have always been comfortable and satisfied, a luxury most of the world is never able to truly know. How much do you give up, of your money, your time, and your life? All of it? But what does that mean?
-------
The sermon in church on Sunday was about greatness as a result of service rather than strength; I agreed with everything until comments were made about the US. The pastor said the US starts wars so we can be in control and we destroy other nations to be the greatest nation. Whether you agree with what is going on in the world right now and the involvement of the US, I think this generalization misuderstands the basic intentions of my country. I don't believe we are in war because we are seeking to be the greatest. I think, rather, we are in war because we are taking responsibility for being greatest. We are the greatest nation in the world, because we have strength and wealth, and we provide opportunity for the world improve through our service. We sacrifice our men and women, daily, not to be great, but because we are great and because of that we have to be involved. Further, we are responsible to the world, but primarily we are responsible to ourselves, there is brokenness and sin and we must protect our nation. The pastor finally concluded the service and said, "What contribution are you making to your community and family...? Jesus wanted everyone to be great, but we must be great in service, humility, and love."
-------
And so I am left with these thoughts, I am left with questions and no answers. As Steinbeck said it best, I am left with a great choice, the choice to chose my course, fight, and win. I am left with the choice to be great through service, humility, and love. And maybe, when I ultimately make this choice, I will discover my responsibility and calling.
If you have any thoughts on what I've written, please email me at Nora.Jorgensen@gordon.edu.
Monday, October 16, 2006
What it is all about
I have just had a most incredible weekend. It was a time of absolute physical, mental, and spiritual challenge.
Kimberlee and I decided we were gong to hike Mt. Adaklu, a two to four hour hike, it can't be that bad, right? Then when we finished we would stay in a simple guesthouse. After three hours of travel to a village only twenty km away we finally made it to the small village of Helekpe, at the base of the mountain. (Transportation included cramming twenty people onto side wooden benches, into the covered back of a pick-up truck, driving down a clay road covered in holes and water, and yes, of course, getting a flat tire).
Once in Helekpe, we were showed to the visitors center, a wooden bench under a thatched roof lean-to; there we paid for and arranged the hike, meals, and sleeping accommodations. We were then introduced to a guide, a young boy, maybe seventeen years old, who would show us to the guesthouse so we could drop off some things before we began the hike. Well, this walk was so intense, Kimberlee even asked if we had already begun the hike. It was all uphill, we were literally climbing rocks, the sun was beating down, we were soaking wet from sweat, and out of breath.
Finally, after forty minutes we made it to a tiny village which is part of a community based tourism project. We were welcomed by the hostess and guide who would take us up the mountain, and then showed to our guesthouse across the village. It was a small concrete building with a tin roof and three doors, we were taken to the door on the farthest left; inside was a small sitting room empty except for plastic chairs, and then a small bedroom with a double bed. We emptied our bags, were greeted and wished good luck by the village chief, and were off on our hike.
Needless to say it was the most challenging hike of my life--we were climbing up rocks, on narrow muddy paths, and at some points the incline was so difficult we had the assistance of a rope (and I fell at least five times). When we made it to the summit we sat down and looked out over the vast African land, observing nearby mountains and tiny specks of villages recognizable by their glistening tin roofs. As we struggled up the mountain and then back down, I kept thinking "What am I doing?" I was completely physically challenged, my body was tired, my thighs were burning, and my calves were sore. But I was also mentally challenged, as I searched to find the best places to put my feet and hands when needed, and to remember to look up and observe the beauty surrounding me.
When we returned to the village, we were welcomed back by the chief, then given a coke by the hostess, and showed to an outdoor shower by our room--a wooden fence and a bucket of water. Once showered and dressed, we were given a tour of the village, and then were served dinner: banku (sort of like fufu, but better) and a red spicy stew with meat (which I only hoped was chicken). Then we went back to the room and waited for our guide to put a mosquito net up for us.
As he was hanging the net, children began to gather in our sitting room, just a few at first. At this point the sun had set and there is no electricity in the village so we were sitting in the dark with one flashlight--for lack of communication I began to entertain the children with the light. Over the next hour we had at least fifteen kids in our room; we sat together in the dark and exchanged English and Ewe songs and yes, dance moves, including the hand jive and Macarena. We also taught Father Abraham and everyone was dancing and singing (including the guide who took us up the mountain)--this was one of the most joyful moments of my life as Kimberlee and I crossed boundaries of age, race, and culture, through a moment of pure happiness.
Once it was late the children left. As we were getting ready for bed we needed to use the bathroom--there is one bathroom in the village, or rather one hole in the ground in a wooden box. So we left our rooms and stumbled through the village in the absolute darkness with our flashlights. On our way back I looked up into the dark sky and was instantly amazed. I could clearly see what looked like billions of stars, and I even thought for a moment, "Does Africa have more stars than America?" I was breathless as I observed the vast greatness of our universe. Standing there I thought about the advancement of the US, I thought about the big great cities, the electricity and power, and light we can afford to produce. And then I realized that in all of this accomplishment, humanity has muted a great accomplishment of our God. I think it was the first time in my life that I was able to see the night sky masterpiece.
And I think this must be what it is all about... Not forgetting to look up into the sky or around the room of children or out onto the great land.
Kimberlee and I decided we were gong to hike Mt. Adaklu, a two to four hour hike, it can't be that bad, right? Then when we finished we would stay in a simple guesthouse. After three hours of travel to a village only twenty km away we finally made it to the small village of Helekpe, at the base of the mountain. (Transportation included cramming twenty people onto side wooden benches, into the covered back of a pick-up truck, driving down a clay road covered in holes and water, and yes, of course, getting a flat tire).
Once in Helekpe, we were showed to the visitors center, a wooden bench under a thatched roof lean-to; there we paid for and arranged the hike, meals, and sleeping accommodations. We were then introduced to a guide, a young boy, maybe seventeen years old, who would show us to the guesthouse so we could drop off some things before we began the hike. Well, this walk was so intense, Kimberlee even asked if we had already begun the hike. It was all uphill, we were literally climbing rocks, the sun was beating down, we were soaking wet from sweat, and out of breath.
Finally, after forty minutes we made it to a tiny village which is part of a community based tourism project. We were welcomed by the hostess and guide who would take us up the mountain, and then showed to our guesthouse across the village. It was a small concrete building with a tin roof and three doors, we were taken to the door on the farthest left; inside was a small sitting room empty except for plastic chairs, and then a small bedroom with a double bed. We emptied our bags, were greeted and wished good luck by the village chief, and were off on our hike.
Needless to say it was the most challenging hike of my life--we were climbing up rocks, on narrow muddy paths, and at some points the incline was so difficult we had the assistance of a rope (and I fell at least five times). When we made it to the summit we sat down and looked out over the vast African land, observing nearby mountains and tiny specks of villages recognizable by their glistening tin roofs. As we struggled up the mountain and then back down, I kept thinking "What am I doing?" I was completely physically challenged, my body was tired, my thighs were burning, and my calves were sore. But I was also mentally challenged, as I searched to find the best places to put my feet and hands when needed, and to remember to look up and observe the beauty surrounding me.
When we returned to the village, we were welcomed back by the chief, then given a coke by the hostess, and showed to an outdoor shower by our room--a wooden fence and a bucket of water. Once showered and dressed, we were given a tour of the village, and then were served dinner: banku (sort of like fufu, but better) and a red spicy stew with meat (which I only hoped was chicken). Then we went back to the room and waited for our guide to put a mosquito net up for us.
As he was hanging the net, children began to gather in our sitting room, just a few at first. At this point the sun had set and there is no electricity in the village so we were sitting in the dark with one flashlight--for lack of communication I began to entertain the children with the light. Over the next hour we had at least fifteen kids in our room; we sat together in the dark and exchanged English and Ewe songs and yes, dance moves, including the hand jive and Macarena. We also taught Father Abraham and everyone was dancing and singing (including the guide who took us up the mountain)--this was one of the most joyful moments of my life as Kimberlee and I crossed boundaries of age, race, and culture, through a moment of pure happiness.
Once it was late the children left. As we were getting ready for bed we needed to use the bathroom--there is one bathroom in the village, or rather one hole in the ground in a wooden box. So we left our rooms and stumbled through the village in the absolute darkness with our flashlights. On our way back I looked up into the dark sky and was instantly amazed. I could clearly see what looked like billions of stars, and I even thought for a moment, "Does Africa have more stars than America?" I was breathless as I observed the vast greatness of our universe. Standing there I thought about the advancement of the US, I thought about the big great cities, the electricity and power, and light we can afford to produce. And then I realized that in all of this accomplishment, humanity has muted a great accomplishment of our God. I think it was the first time in my life that I was able to see the night sky masterpiece.
And I think this must be what it is all about... Not forgetting to look up into the sky or around the room of children or out onto the great land.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Only In Africa
I want to share with you a few experiences from the past week that (I think is safe to say) are unique to African culture:
The other night as we sat around the table finishing dinner, we heard a marching band in the distance. Curiously, we put on shoes and bug spray and headed off to see where it was coming from. After walking around town we finally caught up with them. It was a band of men and women of all ages, announcing the celebration of the 50th anniversary their churches choir. Since it was dark out, they were all carrying torches with fire (some were even balanced on their heads) and were dancing and singing along with the instruments. The people along the streets were watching and some even clapping and dancing along. It wonderful entertainment for the evening.
Last Friday I went to Akrofe-Christellar Institute (a premier religious institute of West Africa). Once there we had lunch with a professor. And during our conversation he told us his testimony. He was raised a Muslim in Northern Ghana, and he shared with us his transformation from Muslim to Christian. He told intimate details of his personal Muslim beliefs and expectations, and the weight of having to earn your salvation through prayers and deeds, and then he told of his discovery of Christ and the recognition that Christ has come to bring salvation. In my limited knowledge of Muslims, if a person leaves the faith you are disowned by your family, so I asked, what is his current relationship with his family. He said that they are very close, he talked about the strength of African families despite religious differences. Although I was surprised by this it was also encouraging to witness the importance of family connections.
Last weekend, Paulina (the mother in Ashley's house) took Ashely and I to a traditional engagement and wedding ceremony (in the tribal language Ga). In African culture the two take place on the same day, the families believe that once the man and women is engaged there will be confusion whether they should live together (since they are committed), so to avoid this confusion the wedding takes place directly after the engagement. The engagement is an exchange of gifts (dowry) from the man's family to the woman's family. Interestingly enough, this exchange of gifts does not take place between the man and woman to be married, but rather between a designated family member from each side. Once the gifts have been received the man and woman finally enter, dancing in seperate lines. Then the families shake hands and a pastor conducts the ceremony.
As I was sitting on the bus to go home, to Ho from Accra, I noticed a man standing outside in a suit. I wondered if maybe he owned the bus or even the bus station or if maybe he was a business man (but then he should have private transportation?). Finally once the bus was full he, got on and stood facing the passengers, then the door was closed and he started to pray for save travel (which isn't unusual, almost every time you leave in a bus, someone will pray for safe travel). But this time wasn't just prayer, the man in the suit proceeded to conduct a worship service for the next hour and forty minutes, complete with singing, scripture reading (by him and passengers), prayers, and many sermons. I was tired from the long weekend and at one point put my head down to sleep and he said, "Lazy giants who sleep are the work of the devil." what??... I guess I won't be getting any rest. Needless to say it was quite the event.
The other night as we sat around the table finishing dinner, we heard a marching band in the distance. Curiously, we put on shoes and bug spray and headed off to see where it was coming from. After walking around town we finally caught up with them. It was a band of men and women of all ages, announcing the celebration of the 50th anniversary their churches choir. Since it was dark out, they were all carrying torches with fire (some were even balanced on their heads) and were dancing and singing along with the instruments. The people along the streets were watching and some even clapping and dancing along. It wonderful entertainment for the evening.
Last Friday I went to Akrofe-Christellar Institute (a premier religious institute of West Africa). Once there we had lunch with a professor. And during our conversation he told us his testimony. He was raised a Muslim in Northern Ghana, and he shared with us his transformation from Muslim to Christian. He told intimate details of his personal Muslim beliefs and expectations, and the weight of having to earn your salvation through prayers and deeds, and then he told of his discovery of Christ and the recognition that Christ has come to bring salvation. In my limited knowledge of Muslims, if a person leaves the faith you are disowned by your family, so I asked, what is his current relationship with his family. He said that they are very close, he talked about the strength of African families despite religious differences. Although I was surprised by this it was also encouraging to witness the importance of family connections.
Last weekend, Paulina (the mother in Ashley's house) took Ashely and I to a traditional engagement and wedding ceremony (in the tribal language Ga). In African culture the two take place on the same day, the families believe that once the man and women is engaged there will be confusion whether they should live together (since they are committed), so to avoid this confusion the wedding takes place directly after the engagement. The engagement is an exchange of gifts (dowry) from the man's family to the woman's family. Interestingly enough, this exchange of gifts does not take place between the man and woman to be married, but rather between a designated family member from each side. Once the gifts have been received the man and woman finally enter, dancing in seperate lines. Then the families shake hands and a pastor conducts the ceremony.
As I was sitting on the bus to go home, to Ho from Accra, I noticed a man standing outside in a suit. I wondered if maybe he owned the bus or even the bus station or if maybe he was a business man (but then he should have private transportation?). Finally once the bus was full he, got on and stood facing the passengers, then the door was closed and he started to pray for save travel (which isn't unusual, almost every time you leave in a bus, someone will pray for safe travel). But this time wasn't just prayer, the man in the suit proceeded to conduct a worship service for the next hour and forty minutes, complete with singing, scripture reading (by him and passengers), prayers, and many sermons. I was tired from the long weekend and at one point put my head down to sleep and he said, "Lazy giants who sleep are the work of the devil." what??... I guess I won't be getting any rest. Needless to say it was quite the event.
A New Perspective
As I wake each morning, leave my home, and go out into this still foreign world, I wonder what experiences should I share? What moments have changed me and my thoughts, and by passing them on may initiate a change in you.
Shortly after arriving in Ghana I read The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo. It's the story of a young shepard boy searching for a treasure, but while on the journey he discovers the real treasures are within. There are many moments throughout the story that I have identified with along my own journey, especially this one:
"He was learning a lot of new things. Some of them were things that he had already experienced, and weren't really new, but that he had never perceived before. And he had never perceived them because he had become accustomed to them."
There's thunder in the distance and as I reflect on my week, I imagine many people would be very happy with the arrival of some rain. The EPC,G (who I work for) has within it an NGO called the Evangelical Presbyterian Development & Relief Agency, and there are many branches throughout the agency. One of the branches is the development of six agricultural sites in Eastern and Northern Ghana. This week I was able to visit two sites. The first, Ho Farms, is focused more on animals, and training people how to raise healthier, stronger animals; there is a small mango field and also a building where they cultivate mushrooms. The second site, Vekoleonu Farms, is focused more on agriculture. I was given big, black rubber boots, two sizes too big, and proceeded to walk through 12 acres of corn, mango, cassava, palm, and orange fields.
Both days I was able to talk directly to local farmers, about the process of farming different plants and breeding different animals. Especially in the fields, the most interesting thing I realized was the primitiveness of the farming: the men go into the fields with machetees in hand--to weed and maintain the growing plants. The men and women go into the fields to pick the ripe fruits and vegetables, and they of course, carry the full, heavy baskets on their heads. There is no irrigation system--the irrigation system consists of trusting the rains will come and sadly they have not. A farmer told me "If you trust the rains, you will fail." The next step to improving the farming was to raise the funds to build a pond and then buy a pump to transport the water... This will probably take years.
What does this mean for you? I hope that you will simply be more aware of the advancement of the US. The farmers kept telling me, "We are not like America, we don't have irrigation systems, we just have to wait, and hope the rain will come."
What else?
--more than 50% of the nation makes less then 20,000 cedis a day (about $2)
--the average person does not have indoor plumbing, so there are public restrooms (usually holes in the ground) throughout the villages and cities
--clothes are hand washed and line dried
--there is no trash disposal program, so either you burn your trash or take it to a common area in the community (this includes toilet paper); we burn our trash beside the house
--all water must be purified and/or filtered before it can be drunk
--the electricity goes off every three days in an effort for the government to conserve energy
--air conditioning and internet are rare, luxuries
--sheep, goats, and chickens roam the street, they say each knows where to go home to at the end of the day
The farmers speak truth when they say, this is not like America. But I hope that through sharing this you will not have pity for Ghana or it's people. Rather I hope you will learn something about life in another corner of the world, and you will be challenged by the differences... By simply burning my trash I have become directly connected to my actions, and by purifying my water I have been connected to my needs. While living in Ghana I have faced the reality of the demands of my life, and through my perceptions I have learned a lot of new things because I have not yet become accustomed to these experiences.
Shortly after arriving in Ghana I read The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo. It's the story of a young shepard boy searching for a treasure, but while on the journey he discovers the real treasures are within. There are many moments throughout the story that I have identified with along my own journey, especially this one:
"He was learning a lot of new things. Some of them were things that he had already experienced, and weren't really new, but that he had never perceived before. And he had never perceived them because he had become accustomed to them."
There's thunder in the distance and as I reflect on my week, I imagine many people would be very happy with the arrival of some rain. The EPC,G (who I work for) has within it an NGO called the Evangelical Presbyterian Development & Relief Agency, and there are many branches throughout the agency. One of the branches is the development of six agricultural sites in Eastern and Northern Ghana. This week I was able to visit two sites. The first, Ho Farms, is focused more on animals, and training people how to raise healthier, stronger animals; there is a small mango field and also a building where they cultivate mushrooms. The second site, Vekoleonu Farms, is focused more on agriculture. I was given big, black rubber boots, two sizes too big, and proceeded to walk through 12 acres of corn, mango, cassava, palm, and orange fields.
Both days I was able to talk directly to local farmers, about the process of farming different plants and breeding different animals. Especially in the fields, the most interesting thing I realized was the primitiveness of the farming: the men go into the fields with machetees in hand--to weed and maintain the growing plants. The men and women go into the fields to pick the ripe fruits and vegetables, and they of course, carry the full, heavy baskets on their heads. There is no irrigation system--the irrigation system consists of trusting the rains will come and sadly they have not. A farmer told me "If you trust the rains, you will fail." The next step to improving the farming was to raise the funds to build a pond and then buy a pump to transport the water... This will probably take years.
What does this mean for you? I hope that you will simply be more aware of the advancement of the US. The farmers kept telling me, "We are not like America, we don't have irrigation systems, we just have to wait, and hope the rain will come."
What else?
--more than 50% of the nation makes less then 20,000 cedis a day (about $2)
--the average person does not have indoor plumbing, so there are public restrooms (usually holes in the ground) throughout the villages and cities
--clothes are hand washed and line dried
--there is no trash disposal program, so either you burn your trash or take it to a common area in the community (this includes toilet paper); we burn our trash beside the house
--all water must be purified and/or filtered before it can be drunk
--the electricity goes off every three days in an effort for the government to conserve energy
--air conditioning and internet are rare, luxuries
--sheep, goats, and chickens roam the street, they say each knows where to go home to at the end of the day
The farmers speak truth when they say, this is not like America. But I hope that through sharing this you will not have pity for Ghana or it's people. Rather I hope you will learn something about life in another corner of the world, and you will be challenged by the differences... By simply burning my trash I have become directly connected to my actions, and by purifying my water I have been connected to my needs. While living in Ghana I have faced the reality of the demands of my life, and through my perceptions I have learned a lot of new things because I have not yet become accustomed to these experiences.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Thank You
Dear friends and family!
I just wanted to write and thank you all for your emails and prayers. They have been an overwhelming encouragement, and I am very thankful for them.
Also, my new and permenant address is:
Nora Jorgensen
EP Church Headquaters
PO Box 18
Ho / Volta Region
Ghana, West Africa
Things are going great in Ho and every day I grow more and more grateful for this opportunity. I will write a new post soon!
love,
Nora
I just wanted to write and thank you all for your emails and prayers. They have been an overwhelming encouragement, and I am very thankful for them.
Also, my new and permenant address is:
Nora Jorgensen
EP Church Headquaters
PO Box 18
Ho / Volta Region
Ghana, West Africa
Things are going great in Ho and every day I grow more and more grateful for this opportunity. I will write a new post soon!
love,
Nora
Thursday, October 05, 2006
"This is your home"
I am finally in Ho. It is a mini-city: more commercialism than a village, but smaller and much calmer than the bigger cities, like Accra or Kumasi. It is surrounded by green hills, and is very very warm (much warmer than Abetifi).
I am living in a house, a very big house that (I think) is owned by the Evangelical Presbyterian Church, Ghana (EPC,G) Headquarters, who I will be working for. It is a short walk down a dirt road from the headquarters. There are five good size bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, dining room, kitchen, and screened in porch--and all of the rooms are painted different pastel colors, ranging from green to blue to pink to yellow (my bedroom is a bluish green). There is running water, and electricity (although the government turns the electricity off every couple of days). I am feeling very spoiled.
I have two roommates from Germany, Becci and Anna. They are very nice and have already been here for three weeks, so they have been able to help me figure things out a little bit. (And Kimberlee is still with me, she will eventually move north to Peki, but even then, I expect that we will be seeing a lot of each other
We have a kitchen... All along I was anticipating having my meals prepared for me, whether I was living with a family, or in a guest house, but living on my own means I am responsible for my meals. This is a little scary, because it means that I have to shop in the market, which means I have to bargain and I have no idea how much things should cost, or when it is appropriate for me to ask for a lower price, hopefully I will learn this quickly. Although we do have a small refrigerator, we have to shop nearly every day for fresh food, which is mostly fruits, vegetables, eggs, rice/pasta, etc. I don't plan on ever really preparing meat, because the fish are not very appetizing, and when you buy a chicken, you buy it live, kill it, de-feather it and so on. (And luckily my roommates can cook.)
Today I met with the moderator of the EPC,G to discuss working options. He asked what I studied in school, I told him English and Communications, and that apparently made me a "Communications expert" (oh noo I'm not an expert). Then I was introduced to the head of the Development Offices which focus on wholeness ministry: ministering though education of improving daily lifestyle, including agricultural skills, medical awareness, and computer skills. After my meeting I was taken around town to many different sites where they believe I will be able to contribute. I will not bore you with the list of jobs, but they want my schedule to be flexible, so as I do different work I will share the experiences.
While standing in the market on the day I arrived, I was faced by the first moment of my life where I looked at a situation and was confronted but how much I was going to be changed by it. The men and women just keep telling me, "This is your home... You will love it here." I am learning to transition to this new place, appreciate its differences, and unique beauty. I look forward to each day, how I will change and what I will learn about myself and my God and His creation.
I am living in a house, a very big house that (I think) is owned by the Evangelical Presbyterian Church, Ghana (EPC,G) Headquarters, who I will be working for. It is a short walk down a dirt road from the headquarters. There are five good size bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, dining room, kitchen, and screened in porch--and all of the rooms are painted different pastel colors, ranging from green to blue to pink to yellow (my bedroom is a bluish green). There is running water, and electricity (although the government turns the electricity off every couple of days). I am feeling very spoiled.
I have two roommates from Germany, Becci and Anna. They are very nice and have already been here for three weeks, so they have been able to help me figure things out a little bit. (And Kimberlee is still with me, she will eventually move north to Peki, but even then, I expect that we will be seeing a lot of each other
We have a kitchen... All along I was anticipating having my meals prepared for me, whether I was living with a family, or in a guest house, but living on my own means I am responsible for my meals. This is a little scary, because it means that I have to shop in the market, which means I have to bargain and I have no idea how much things should cost, or when it is appropriate for me to ask for a lower price, hopefully I will learn this quickly. Although we do have a small refrigerator, we have to shop nearly every day for fresh food, which is mostly fruits, vegetables, eggs, rice/pasta, etc. I don't plan on ever really preparing meat, because the fish are not very appetizing, and when you buy a chicken, you buy it live, kill it, de-feather it and so on. (And luckily my roommates can cook.)
Today I met with the moderator of the EPC,G to discuss working options. He asked what I studied in school, I told him English and Communications, and that apparently made me a "Communications expert" (oh noo I'm not an expert). Then I was introduced to the head of the Development Offices which focus on wholeness ministry: ministering though education of improving daily lifestyle, including agricultural skills, medical awareness, and computer skills. After my meeting I was taken around town to many different sites where they believe I will be able to contribute. I will not bore you with the list of jobs, but they want my schedule to be flexible, so as I do different work I will share the experiences.
While standing in the market on the day I arrived, I was faced by the first moment of my life where I looked at a situation and was confronted but how much I was going to be changed by it. The men and women just keep telling me, "This is your home... You will love it here." I am learning to transition to this new place, appreciate its differences, and unique beauty. I look forward to each day, how I will change and what I will learn about myself and my God and His creation.
Friday, September 29, 2006
my purpose
This morning I woke early, had a breakfast of fresh bread, cherry jam, and hot tea. Then I went back to the room, pulled a chair onto the porch and read. The sun was heavy, but with the wind and cover of the porch, the weather was cool and refreshing. There were cheers and sounds of excitement coming from behind the guesthouse, where a large group of local teenage boys decided to skip school and play a game of futbol.
As I sat reading, my mind wandered thinking about what is to come. This morning is my last morning in Abetifi, possibly for the rest of my life; it has become my home in Africa, the streets and sounds of the village are familiar, as well as the many friendly faces that have warmly welcomed me into their community, and now I am leaving to build another home.
When I think about what is next to come I cannot help but wonder about the work I will be doing. Glen, my site coordinator was telling me of all the different opportunities I will be able to be a part of through the Evangelical Presbyterian Church, Ghana: there is a store where I will be able to teach women skills of management, there are over ten churches in the area that were just given enough money to be roofed, there is an agricultural site, and also a silk weaving site. In all of these opportunities I will be able to work with my hands and my mind, and my heart as I love the people I am working with.
But as I sit here anticipating the future I am reminded of my purpose: Glen shared that we have been brought to Ghana, not to show the people the right way to do things, or the better way, I am not here to enable. The people of Ghana are strong and smart and capable, they can do the work. Rather, they have invited me to their country to work beside them, to learn about their culture and values, to become a part of their communities, and then to share my experiences with the world.
As I sat reading, my mind wandered thinking about what is to come. This morning is my last morning in Abetifi, possibly for the rest of my life; it has become my home in Africa, the streets and sounds of the village are familiar, as well as the many friendly faces that have warmly welcomed me into their community, and now I am leaving to build another home.
When I think about what is next to come I cannot help but wonder about the work I will be doing. Glen, my site coordinator was telling me of all the different opportunities I will be able to be a part of through the Evangelical Presbyterian Church, Ghana: there is a store where I will be able to teach women skills of management, there are over ten churches in the area that were just given enough money to be roofed, there is an agricultural site, and also a silk weaving site. In all of these opportunities I will be able to work with my hands and my mind, and my heart as I love the people I am working with.
But as I sit here anticipating the future I am reminded of my purpose: Glen shared that we have been brought to Ghana, not to show the people the right way to do things, or the better way, I am not here to enable. The people of Ghana are strong and smart and capable, they can do the work. Rather, they have invited me to their country to work beside them, to learn about their culture and values, to become a part of their communities, and then to share my experiences with the world.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Boabang-Fiema Monkey Sanctuary
Friday morning we woke at 6:30 am, to get a tro-tro to Kumasi. The ride was typical and uneventful: bumpy, a crazy driver, windy, and dusty (and since there is no a.c. you drive the windows down); three hours later we arrived safely. Once in Kumasi we went to a bank to withdraw money and then to lunch at our favorite spot for an American fix, On-the-run, a fast-food/convenience store where we can get delicious pizza, chocolate ice cream, and snickers (chocolate can only be found in the big cities). While we were eating we met an American Methodist missionary couple who were very friendly, they gave us their name and phone number, and offered their home, if we were ever to travel though their village and needed a place to stay. In the past couple of weeks, I have met such caring and friendly people, it has been an awesome reminder of humanity's capacity for goodness.
After lunch we got cab and went to the enormously chaotic bus station to a get tro-tro to Nkoranza, where we would be staying for the night. After finding our way with some help from the cab driver, we purchased a ticked and got on the tro-tro and waited for an hour. In Ghana you sit and wait until your bus is complete full and then you can leave. You sit, in the heat, and wait, all the while girls and women are coming to the windows trying to sell things: food, bags of filtered water, and pretty much anything that can be carried in a bowl or basket on top of the head--including skin lightening cream which was offered to us a lot while we waited. Many of them are very persistant and will beg you to buy from them so you shake your head no and repeat "daabi, daabi medaase" (no, no thank you), and then they laugh because an Obrouni knows Twi.
Finally the tro-tro was full and we were on our way. The ride was typical and after two hours we were on a red clay road, so bumpy and dirty (at the end of the night we were at least two shades darker from all the dirt). While on the clay road we passed through villages with mud and stick houses and thatched roofs--it was a beautiful image of simplicity. Then after a half hour the tro-tro broke down, we all de-boarded, and stood on the side of the road waiting for another tro-tro to come and finish the journey. The replacement finally arrived and an hour and a half later we made it to Nkoranza, then we found a cab and were on our way to the guesthouse: we had an individual house with two bedrooms and bathrooms, a small living room and kitchen, a beautiful view, dinner and breakfast for less then $10.
In the morning we woke, had breakfast at 7, and then walked through the village to the main road to get a taxi to the sanctuary. They claim it is a 20 km drive but it seemed to be more than that, the road was clay, covered in bumps and holes filled with water. Finally we made it!! We paid admission, signed our names in a guestbook, and were taken further into the village where we met a guide. He took us through the village, pointing out the two species of monkey: Colobus and Mono (at some points we were only 6 in. away from them), the 70 species of trees, and 30 species of butterfly. We were finished with the tour in a less then two hours with grand finally fight between two monkey families because one family entered the others territory. There were at least 30 monkeys involved, running jumping, making loud noises, and I was right in the middle of it. It was quite the entertainment.
p.s. After the journey to Nkornza I decided I wanted short hair, so I found a shop in the village, and cut off all of my hair, I have only about an inch left, and once I figure out how to upload pictures, I will attach some.
After lunch we got cab and went to the enormously chaotic bus station to a get tro-tro to Nkoranza, where we would be staying for the night. After finding our way with some help from the cab driver, we purchased a ticked and got on the tro-tro and waited for an hour. In Ghana you sit and wait until your bus is complete full and then you can leave. You sit, in the heat, and wait, all the while girls and women are coming to the windows trying to sell things: food, bags of filtered water, and pretty much anything that can be carried in a bowl or basket on top of the head--including skin lightening cream which was offered to us a lot while we waited. Many of them are very persistant and will beg you to buy from them so you shake your head no and repeat "daabi, daabi medaase" (no, no thank you), and then they laugh because an Obrouni knows Twi.
Finally the tro-tro was full and we were on our way. The ride was typical and after two hours we were on a red clay road, so bumpy and dirty (at the end of the night we were at least two shades darker from all the dirt). While on the clay road we passed through villages with mud and stick houses and thatched roofs--it was a beautiful image of simplicity. Then after a half hour the tro-tro broke down, we all de-boarded, and stood on the side of the road waiting for another tro-tro to come and finish the journey. The replacement finally arrived and an hour and a half later we made it to Nkoranza, then we found a cab and were on our way to the guesthouse: we had an individual house with two bedrooms and bathrooms, a small living room and kitchen, a beautiful view, dinner and breakfast for less then $10.
In the morning we woke, had breakfast at 7, and then walked through the village to the main road to get a taxi to the sanctuary. They claim it is a 20 km drive but it seemed to be more than that, the road was clay, covered in bumps and holes filled with water. Finally we made it!! We paid admission, signed our names in a guestbook, and were taken further into the village where we met a guide. He took us through the village, pointing out the two species of monkey: Colobus and Mono (at some points we were only 6 in. away from them), the 70 species of trees, and 30 species of butterfly. We were finished with the tour in a less then two hours with grand finally fight between two monkey families because one family entered the others territory. There were at least 30 monkeys involved, running jumping, making loud noises, and I was right in the middle of it. It was quite the entertainment.
p.s. After the journey to Nkornza I decided I wanted short hair, so I found a shop in the village, and cut off all of my hair, I have only about an inch left, and once I figure out how to upload pictures, I will attach some.
Keep telling stories
Sing songs as you go, and hold close together. You may at times grow confused and lose your way, continue to call eachother by the names I've given you, to help remember who you are. Touch eachother and keep telling stories.
It occurs to me that I have not said anything specific about the other three volunteers I am sharing this adventure with. Their presence has indeed been a blessing. From day one when we faced our airport dilemma and were forced to become a team, until now, as we have spent every day of the last month together: eating meals, traveling, learning, having fun, sharing stories from our pasts, and talking about the future. We are all very different: we share different pasts and different dreams about the future, we like different food and music, we have different families and studied different things in school -- but despite our differences we compliment eachother and are bound by our love for God and willingness to serve Him. In the past few months I have come to respect these women. It is with them that I have learned how to be here now, appreciate each moment, and find pleasure in this country and its culture. It is through these friendships that I have been able to transition into this new world, as they have comforted, challenged, and strengthened.
Yesterday our site coordinators, Glen and Carol, came up for a visit, and told us that we will be leaving Abetifi on Friday, which is a week earlier than expected. We will go to Accra for a couple of days (I think), then we will head off to our individual placements, and I am very excited to finally get to Ho and my placement.
It occurs to me that I have not said anything specific about the other three volunteers I am sharing this adventure with. Their presence has indeed been a blessing. From day one when we faced our airport dilemma and were forced to become a team, until now, as we have spent every day of the last month together: eating meals, traveling, learning, having fun, sharing stories from our pasts, and talking about the future. We are all very different: we share different pasts and different dreams about the future, we like different food and music, we have different families and studied different things in school -- but despite our differences we compliment eachother and are bound by our love for God and willingness to serve Him. In the past few months I have come to respect these women. It is with them that I have learned how to be here now, appreciate each moment, and find pleasure in this country and its culture. It is through these friendships that I have been able to transition into this new world, as they have comforted, challenged, and strengthened.
Yesterday our site coordinators, Glen and Carol, came up for a visit, and told us that we will be leaving Abetifi on Friday, which is a week earlier than expected. We will go to Accra for a couple of days (I think), then we will head off to our individual placements, and I am very excited to finally get to Ho and my placement.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Kumasi
This post is the accurate date and time.
Yesterday we took a road trip to the city of Kumasi, the cultural capital of Ghana, it was a two and half hour drive north including many bumpy roads and traffic. While in Kumasi we went to a former Ashanti palace, built by the British, which is now a museum. There we learned about the history and culture of Royalty in Ghana. We also went to a cultural center where local artisan work is sold: wood work, clothes, jewelry, etc.
And finally, we went to the outdoor market. It is a city of one million people; so imagine organized chaos, people everywhere. We had to walk in a line to stay together through the crowds--when I was not looking down to make sure I wouldn't step in mud or trip on a rock, I was looking ahead to make sure I was still following our teacher, and when I was not looking down or ahead I was ducking as to avoid walking into a bowl or basket on a man or woman's head. Now imagine tables and small stands with walls and a roof, lined up along the roads, in between buildings and even over train tracks. There are sections of the market selling different items. There is a food section with all sorts of vegetables, raw beef, raw fish/smoked fish, and giant snails. Then there is a fabric section, rows of fabric stands, the most beautiful fabric you have ever seen, bright colors, unique patterns. And of course there is a modern section, selling electronics, western clothes, hundreds of used shoes, and so much more.
It was so overwhelming to be in the market, we had to move so fast as we walked through to avoid getting in the way. It was such a rush and so exciting to see this way of life, but while I was in the midst of the market it was the first time since I arrived in Ghana that I felt disconnected to where I was and what was taking place. I think it was my first moment of culture shock.
Yesterday we took a road trip to the city of Kumasi, the cultural capital of Ghana, it was a two and half hour drive north including many bumpy roads and traffic. While in Kumasi we went to a former Ashanti palace, built by the British, which is now a museum. There we learned about the history and culture of Royalty in Ghana. We also went to a cultural center where local artisan work is sold: wood work, clothes, jewelry, etc.
And finally, we went to the outdoor market. It is a city of one million people; so imagine organized chaos, people everywhere. We had to walk in a line to stay together through the crowds--when I was not looking down to make sure I wouldn't step in mud or trip on a rock, I was looking ahead to make sure I was still following our teacher, and when I was not looking down or ahead I was ducking as to avoid walking into a bowl or basket on a man or woman's head. Now imagine tables and small stands with walls and a roof, lined up along the roads, in between buildings and even over train tracks. There are sections of the market selling different items. There is a food section with all sorts of vegetables, raw beef, raw fish/smoked fish, and giant snails. Then there is a fabric section, rows of fabric stands, the most beautiful fabric you have ever seen, bright colors, unique patterns. And of course there is a modern section, selling electronics, western clothes, hundreds of used shoes, and so much more.
It was so overwhelming to be in the market, we had to move so fast as we walked through to avoid getting in the way. It was such a rush and so exciting to see this way of life, but while I was in the midst of the market it was the first time since I arrived in Ghana that I felt disconnected to where I was and what was taking place. I think it was my first moment of culture shock.
English please
On Sunday we went to church. I feared the cultural differences would hinder it from being a time of worship and spiritual nourishment, so I must admit I was not really looking forward to going... The service was in Twi, I know only about 40 words in Twi, and my mind was drowning in language. God must have recognized this because three times through the service English was spoken: (1) they were talking about fasting this week, Monday through Friday, (2) in the middle of the sermon the pastor looked in our direction and said, "What I am saying is if you want to serve the kingdom of God to the end, you have to be patient," and (3) when the 4 of us were unsure if it was appropriate to take communion the pastor nodded at us to come to the front and then administered it in English. Over the 2 hour and 45 minute service it was these moments that brought me peace, hope, and nourishment.
A Spectacle
This past Saturday the girls and I decided we were going to venture out and see where we are living, so we walked about two miles to the next village. It was a pleasant walk; we passed people working on farms nestled in hills surrounded by ancient trees and other green vegetation, there are red dirt clay paths that lead to homes or farms, mountains in the distance, and a heavy sun but nice breeze. We were greeted and welcomed by those we passed on the road, many also asked where we were going and why.
Once we arrived in the village we purchased a large bottle of water and a loaf of bread for 10,000 cedis (which is only $1). While taking our break we were greeted by two young men, a refugee from Liberia and a student from Togo, and they offered to show us around the village. During this walk I quickly noticed that my presence was providing entertainment for the locals. I was a spectacle, the four white girls were a spectacle. Children would gather in groups and stare, or run up the street, or follow us, or stand on their porch, and yell: "Obrouni! Obrouni!" (white person). Men and women would watch as we passed and some would ask: "Woho te sen?" (how are you?). The men we were with said the people in this village never see white people unless they are driving through in a car, they never actually walk through... although it was indeed an unusual experience I realized we were making ourselves available to be watched and spoken to, and we were a reflection of any notions they may have about Westerners, so we smiled and waved, and responded in a much Twi we could remember.
Once we arrived in the village we purchased a large bottle of water and a loaf of bread for 10,000 cedis (which is only $1). While taking our break we were greeted by two young men, a refugee from Liberia and a student from Togo, and they offered to show us around the village. During this walk I quickly noticed that my presence was providing entertainment for the locals. I was a spectacle, the four white girls were a spectacle. Children would gather in groups and stare, or run up the street, or follow us, or stand on their porch, and yell: "Obrouni! Obrouni!" (white person). Men and women would watch as we passed and some would ask: "Woho te sen?" (how are you?). The men we were with said the people in this village never see white people unless they are driving through in a car, they never actually walk through... although it was indeed an unusual experience I realized we were making ourselves available to be watched and spoken to, and we were a reflection of any notions they may have about Westerners, so we smiled and waved, and responded in a much Twi we could remember.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Maaha
it will indeed be a challege to use the internet as often as i might like. both the internet and electricity are unreliable, but finally today after almost an hour of trying to sign on, in the midst of losing electricity, i am on!!
last wednesday we left accra, and came up north to a training center for some orientation. i was very relieved to leave the city, it is quite busy and congested, and i was ready to see (as the ghanaians say) the ''real'' ghana. although, despite the beauty of the country, the journey up was not too pleasant, as im sure you can imagine the roads are very very bumpy and the drivers are crazy! but we arrived safely!
we started our twi language training today and it is going well, there are times when i have trouble pronouncing the words but it is coming along better than i could have anticipated. the greatest thing about learning twi is the ability it has provided to communicate with the villagers, but even more it has allowed us to show our respect for them and their culture. many of the villagers are eager to tak with us and practice, they initaite and challenge, and are quick to forgive and kindly correct when a mistake has been made. they have been a great witness to graciousness.
things are going perfectly; it is beautiful here, the landscape and the weather are amazing, it is warm but there is a nice breeze, and life is very laidback (it is a nice break from american culture, although it will definitely take some time to get used to).
maaha ( i wish you a good afternoon, in Twi)
love,
nora
last wednesday we left accra, and came up north to a training center for some orientation. i was very relieved to leave the city, it is quite busy and congested, and i was ready to see (as the ghanaians say) the ''real'' ghana. although, despite the beauty of the country, the journey up was not too pleasant, as im sure you can imagine the roads are very very bumpy and the drivers are crazy! but we arrived safely!
we started our twi language training today and it is going well, there are times when i have trouble pronouncing the words but it is coming along better than i could have anticipated. the greatest thing about learning twi is the ability it has provided to communicate with the villagers, but even more it has allowed us to show our respect for them and their culture. many of the villagers are eager to tak with us and practice, they initaite and challenge, and are quick to forgive and kindly correct when a mistake has been made. they have been a great witness to graciousness.
things are going perfectly; it is beautiful here, the landscape and the weather are amazing, it is warm but there is a nice breeze, and life is very laidback (it is a nice break from american culture, although it will definitely take some time to get used to).
maaha ( i wish you a good afternoon, in Twi)
love,
nora
Greetings from Ghana!
and we have arrived!! our visas made it to us by thursday, and the earliest flight all four us could get on was saturday night. then after 20 hours of travel (not including the difference in time), we arrived in accra sunday night. it was dark and pouring rain. we've been told that it's the end of rainy season but this season there has been very little rain, so the locals were all very excited about its arrival.
we have been staying in a guest house, sort of like a small, very simple condo. in the past couple of days we have been able to adventure and see a little bit of this lively city; it has been overwhelming but very exciting. the streets are teeming with people. they are walking (many women with bowls on top of their heads) and selling things in stands (clothes, food, jewelry, cell phone cards). there is also a ton of traffic. the development of the city is interesting; in many places you will see a mansion next to a simple house with no roof. and almost every home, despite its size, is surrounded by a tall wall.
the past two nights we have experienced traditional ghanaian food. it has consisted of rice balls (which are huge condensed balls of rice) or fufu (which is a wet play dough-like substance made of root and plantain) and a meat stew (chicken/goat/lamb) that is poured over the fufu and then the entire thing is eaten with your right hand (no silverware). the meals are okay, and are definitely going to take some getting used to.
tomorrow we are going northwest about three hours, for two weeks of culture orientation. then two of us will go east to ho (where i will be living for the year) for another two weeks of orientation, focusing mainly on language.
overall, the experience has been great. the people are welcoming and friendly, and i look forward to learning more about their culture as i build relationships.
i'll be in touch soon!
love,
nora
we have been staying in a guest house, sort of like a small, very simple condo. in the past couple of days we have been able to adventure and see a little bit of this lively city; it has been overwhelming but very exciting. the streets are teeming with people. they are walking (many women with bowls on top of their heads) and selling things in stands (clothes, food, jewelry, cell phone cards). there is also a ton of traffic. the development of the city is interesting; in many places you will see a mansion next to a simple house with no roof. and almost every home, despite its size, is surrounded by a tall wall.
the past two nights we have experienced traditional ghanaian food. it has consisted of rice balls (which are huge condensed balls of rice) or fufu (which is a wet play dough-like substance made of root and plantain) and a meat stew (chicken/goat/lamb) that is poured over the fufu and then the entire thing is eaten with your right hand (no silverware). the meals are okay, and are definitely going to take some getting used to.
tomorrow we are going northwest about three hours, for two weeks of culture orientation. then two of us will go east to ho (where i will be living for the year) for another two weeks of orientation, focusing mainly on language.
overall, the experience has been great. the people are welcoming and friendly, and i look forward to learning more about their culture as i build relationships.
i'll be in touch soon!
love,
nora
It's about the journey, not the destination
you are probably expecting me to tell you that last night i arrived at the airport, checked in, went through security, boarded the plane, had a layover in london, and arrived safely in beautiful ghana...
but that is not how the story has played out.
we arrived at the airport and with the first of four ghana girls to check in, british airlines quickly made us aware that we would not be boarding the plane (what??). let me fill you in on our plan: we were going to fly to ghana and receive our visas upon arrival at the airport in ghana.
basically, ba wouldn't let us board because they had no proof that we had permission to enter ghana and if they bring someone to the country without permission they are fined $2000 per person. so we stepped out of line and immediately started making phone calls, trying to work something out. once we realized this could not be fixed in a few hours, we headed to a hotel about 9pm.
we have decided that at this point it would be best to obtain our visas first, so today we sent our (emergency) visa requests to the ghanaian embassy in dc, and are hoping to have our visas by the latest friday and possibly even thursday.
so i am still in chicago and although i am so so so ready to be in ghana, it's okay. this has been such a learning experience and the four of us have learned how to work together and be positive, encouraging, and flexible.
hopefully, by the end of this week we will have arrived safely and you will be receiving greetings from ghana!
love,
nora
but that is not how the story has played out.
we arrived at the airport and with the first of four ghana girls to check in, british airlines quickly made us aware that we would not be boarding the plane (what??). let me fill you in on our plan: we were going to fly to ghana and receive our visas upon arrival at the airport in ghana.
basically, ba wouldn't let us board because they had no proof that we had permission to enter ghana and if they bring someone to the country without permission they are fined $2000 per person. so we stepped out of line and immediately started making phone calls, trying to work something out. once we realized this could not be fixed in a few hours, we headed to a hotel about 9pm.
we have decided that at this point it would be best to obtain our visas first, so today we sent our (emergency) visa requests to the ghanaian embassy in dc, and are hoping to have our visas by the latest friday and possibly even thursday.
so i am still in chicago and although i am so so so ready to be in ghana, it's okay. this has been such a learning experience and the four of us have learned how to work together and be positive, encouraging, and flexible.
hopefully, by the end of this week we will have arrived safely and you will be receiving greetings from ghana!
love,
nora
This is it!
In an effort for the blog to contain the whole story from beginning to end I have cut and paste from past emails, so pay no attention to the dates and times of the first few posts.
I'm sitting in a computer lab at the University of Chicago soaking wet from the rain, and of course, putting off packing. The bus comes to pick us up at 4 and then my flight takes off at 8:15 pm with a layover in London.
We have finally finished our week of training and orientation. It was a week of information overload, anxiousness, excitement, and friendship. And, although I woke up every morning counting down the days till arrival and dreaded sitting in rooms for hours upon hours, I must admit, that maybe, I am a little thankful we had this opportunity to be together as a group.
So I sit here, incredibly excited and ready to be there. Just yesterday I was able to visit a Ghanaian worship service, the members welcomed us with warmth, prayed for us, and were so very excited to hear about my journey to their home. It was a wonderful taste of what my future is to hold (even though I did freak out a little when they began worshiping in a tribal language).
Upon arrival (I think) I will be going through 2 weeks of orientation in Accra, Ghana, with the other three volunteers, and then I will move to Ho and have another 2 weeks of orientation (including some language training).
I am unsure of the internet availability, but I hope to be able to write shortly after arrival.
love,
Nora
I'm sitting in a computer lab at the University of Chicago soaking wet from the rain, and of course, putting off packing. The bus comes to pick us up at 4 and then my flight takes off at 8:15 pm with a layover in London.
We have finally finished our week of training and orientation. It was a week of information overload, anxiousness, excitement, and friendship. And, although I woke up every morning counting down the days till arrival and dreaded sitting in rooms for hours upon hours, I must admit, that maybe, I am a little thankful we had this opportunity to be together as a group.
So I sit here, incredibly excited and ready to be there. Just yesterday I was able to visit a Ghanaian worship service, the members welcomed us with warmth, prayed for us, and were so very excited to hear about my journey to their home. It was a wonderful taste of what my future is to hold (even though I did freak out a little when they began worshiping in a tribal language).
Upon arrival (I think) I will be going through 2 weeks of orientation in Accra, Ghana, with the other three volunteers, and then I will move to Ho and have another 2 weeks of orientation (including some language training).
I am unsure of the internet availability, but I hope to be able to write shortly after arrival.
love,
Nora
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