Summer In the City

Apparently whenever I try to upload pictures to the blog, the computer freezes completely. It's unfortunate because I would love show you all the lovely faces of my friends and family here, but it looks like I will have to save that for when I get back to the States... which is all too soon. I will be arriving in Tulsa on Tuesday night after a super long flight from Accra to Amsterdam to Dallas and then finally the homestead. In Amsterdam though, I plan to meet with a man who is a bigwig when it comes to the anti-trafficking of women in the Red Light District... it's perfect! If he doesn't show up, then I am going to make some unsuspecting boy buy me a cup of coffee and possibly a waffle. Only time will tell.

Right now, I am in the capital, Accra where life is hectic and crowded and hot. It's drastically different from the village which was nice and calm and very few people cared I was white. Here though, I get lots of stares and exponentially more proposals (even the ring that I wear on my left hand to deter suitors is living up to its potential). However, I'm making the best of it and getting to see some very dear friends.

Yesterday, my BFF Ghanaian-style, Dinah and I took the town. We visited with our old housemates, the Badjies (can I get a woop woop, LK and Les?) They are absolutely wonderful. And my baby, really... if I can ever claim another child as my own, it would be this beautiful bundle of energy, Maa Justine. Lauren and I used to take her to school, on our backs, as a baby and now two years later, she's a walking, talking noise making machine. When I walked into the room, she looked up at me and said "You're my auntie! You're my auntie!" And then led me by the hand to her photo album, sat on my lap and showed me pictures of her three white aunties. It was absolutely priceless. Aah, it was only too short of a visit. After eating some rice and stew and a pleasantly long conversation with Brigitte Badjie, Dinah and I headed off to the beach. Before we left though, Maa sang and danced and made up a song about me being her auntie. She even taught me the Black Stars theme song for the Africa Cup of Nations.

Sidenote: I had planned to go to see a soccer match today with the Black Stars and was absolutely giddy about the whole affair... but plans changed, as they always do. And you know what I ended up doing? Sitting at a Chinese/Ghanaian Restaurant with two African men. Soccer or awkward lunch? It's a toss-up for sure.

I will continue to blog, even when I get back to the States, because there is so much else that I wanted to share but I didn't have the internet... and I want to put up pictures. If you all want to see them. Really, I feel like a mother who wants to show off all her children's boring awards and pictures and tell really awful and stupid stories that are only interesting to her because she is their mother and she drives a van with an Elementary Student of the Month sticker stuck crooked on the bumper. So if this is the case, I apologize. I never intended to turn into that girl.

More to come, tech lovers.

Peace.

Boo

Virtual Friends (and hopefully, real ones too),

I have had a change of plans. I have been here for a month now and just made it back to Accra. I have very little time at this internet cafe, but the news... I will be gracing the States with my presence on Tuesday the 24th. Yah. Apparently I have a malfunctioning gallbladder. No big deal. But really, what do you even need your gallbladder for? So... I promise to blog again soon. And it will be sillier and clever-er than this one.

P.S. I think I'm actually African... just a little paler than the rest.

Everything Is Illuminated

Everything is illuminated here in Amedzofe. Life, purpose, significance- all become clearer and more vibrant. My soul finds rest here. I am forced to slow down and quiet myself each day. The multi-tasking, super efficient minded characteristic of my college life becomes unimportant. It does not matter.

Instead, I find my satisfaction in the unknown and the uncomfortable. I do not know why God has chosen to take me back to Ghana, and I do not know if I will ever know the fruits of my labor. Maybe it is not about what I have done for these beautiful people but more so what they have done for me. I know that they have had an incredibly large impact on my life, but have I really done anything for them? It is unknown and I am perfectly satisfied without the lack of understanding. Because, honestly, it is not about me anyway.

Most noticeably, I have learned to despise the comfortable in life. I do not know if this makes sense, but to me, it is my goal that I am constantly striving to reach. I want to force myself outside of the cultural, traditional, mental, physical and mostly spiritual comfort of what I have always known. I have found over the years that when my greatest moments are found in the uncomfortable because that is where God works. I must relinquish my control and completely surrender. It is in the uncomfortable that I ironically find peace.

As a result, I am once again embracing the fact that I do not understand everything. And I don’t care to understand it all. But one thing I am sure, in Ghana, it is clearer… life just makes more sense. It is a beautiful culture and I cannot even begin to adequately explain my love for the people and the country.

Health Report

Dearest Friends,

Over the past week and half, I have been rather sick and unable to eat much food. As a result, it looks like I may need to come back to the States early. Home is calling me back and despite my stubborness and inability to convince my body to get better, it seems I will be coming back in a couple weeks. However, if I feel fine over the next few days, I will stay. Please be praying that I feel better and can stay as long as I intended.

Your Friend,
Molly

Ninja Love

This is an actual conversation that took place over two or three days in Amedzofe. Surprisingly, it is not altogether uncommon.

Disclaimer: I lie about my status, for reasons only white American girls who have lived in Ghana would understand:

Francis: Oh you are welcome. What is your name?
Molly: Molly. How are you?
Francis: Oh I am Francis. You are Mary? Like you are the mother of the Savior?
Molly: No, Molly. M-A-L-I.
Francis: Oooh, Mary. Okay.
Molly: Yes, Mary.
Francis: Mary Magdalene, where are you from?
Molly: America. My people send their greetings.
Francis: Oh, America? Oh what a nice place! How are your peoples? Will you marry me?
Molly: No, I won’t marry you.
Francis: You have a man?
Molly: No… well, yes I do.
Francis: Has he promised to marry you? Is he a white man?
Molly: No he is a black man.
Francis: No I want to be the black man. I want to marry you. Marry me?
Molly: No no no. I am sorry. I can’t.
Francis: Okay, well have a good day.
Molly: Thank you, you as well.
Francis: I am a ninja.
Molly: No you are not.
Francis: Oh fine, have a nice day.

Two days later:
Francis: Hello.
Molly: Uhh… hello.
Francis. Ninja!
Molly: Oh yes, hello.
Francis: Okay, goodbye. I love you.

True Life: I live in Africa

Over the past week and half, the Ghanaian in me has revealed itself once again, accompanied with my inevitable accent. Africa is like second nature to me. The smells, the food, the bugs, the way of life. As of yet, I have encountered numerous large, no enormous, insects and rodents in my house. Since it is only my friend Dinah and I in the house this time, we are forced to deal with them all by ourselves. I have successfully refrained from screaming while a mouse brushed past my foot and ran out of the kitchen, moved a millipede the size of my foot from my room with a stick and some prayers, completely obliterated a snake-ish creature that is said to be poisonous from the hallway, and multiple spiders have lost their lives and countless ants have been crushed by my fingers, feet and utensils of some sort. Maybe my destiny is not to live in poverty but to be an exterminator.

Home Sweet Home

Oh Amedzofe. We arrived in the village before dusk Saturday evening. I already see the changes that two years can make. The road up to the mountain has been paved several miles further than when I last took the road, and driving up to the village seems much faster. Of course, driving is relative. We walked a good portion of the way up the mountain because the tires on the car that we borrowed from a friend in Accra began spinning on the rocks and pebbles of the road, so we had to get out of the car, with thunder booming across the valley, and sprint while the car drove upward without us. It was silly, and it was priceless to see Uncle Yawo run up a mountain (that is an image specifically for Lauren and Lesley).

I was so excited but getting a little nervous about arriving back to my Ghanaian home. Would people remember me? Do people even know I am coming? What am I going to do? What have I gotten myself into? All of these worries washed away the second I walked into the home of my dear, dear friend Esenam. I will not even attempt to describe this beautiful, strong and precious woman. She is Esenam and she is my sister- that is all that can be said without losing her character in translation. She saw me, screamed “Aaah Sister Molly!” and literally picked me up off the ground. It was better than any reunion I could have imagined. Seriously. We laughed and hugged some more, exchanged a few greetings and just could not believe that we were staring at each other face to face. Nothing has been lost in those two years. Maybe we did not know the details of each others lives, but we did not need to. I was back and all was well.

I am back!