Everyday life

“For he is not known by argument but by what we do and how we love”
-Richard Rollie














-Does charity involve feeling?
Maybe I fear for my soul
When all I long for is emotion.
I wonder why we were given such vices when assumed salvation
Lies in deprivation,
Or at least that’s what I read.
Perhaps it’s the path set for each,
Some solitude, others communal.
Although I anticipate the absolutes,
I wonder if some were meant for egos
Because I cannot deny the freedom that partakes me
When I stand under the rain
That is mercy.
So take away my feeling
And in that deprivation I will only feel more
Of what we all long for.
I do not believe in a heart absent of its palpates,
Nor a God void of tears.
For only love can so move humanity to vigilance
And a God to create such as that.-

Hello everyone. Or I should probably say Akwaaba (“You are welcome”) since I’ve been in Africa for three weeks now! Things are going well. Language classes have been intense but I’m thankful that our sweet instructor is patient with us. It’s also nice that my host family speaks the language that I am learning; they were right (whoever they are) when they said the best way to learn a language is to be submersed in it.

I suppose there’s not much to update although I feel like that explanation is inadequate. Many things have happened, I suppose I just don’t know where to start. Things have calmed down into pretty much an everyday routine, which is becoming normal for me, which is still no explanation to you. So I suppose I will take you through an average day here in the town of Forukrom where I reside.

Wake up: 5 am.
If you are ever thinking of coming to Africa you need not bring an alarm clock. The world wakes up here about 4:30 am, although the roosters usually rise around 2am. I can be awaken by a number of things: sweeping (yes, the sweeping of the dirt), the goats, the “where do you go” song my brother likes to listen to every morning, known also as the night at the Roxbury theme song, my mother (who stands at my door and yells my name, it usually comes out in a sort of one syllabal noise that sounds a little like “Brea!”), the clanking of pots and pans, chanting, the rain (my personal favorite), the churches singing, people yelling, or lastly, all of the above.

Contemplation: 5:10-5:30 am
This is when I lie in bed and decide what I should next. Do I run? Do I try and go back to sleep? Do I read? Study? Yoga (yeah right…but I think about it.), Laundry? Usually I decide to run. I’m not usually a great morning runner but I have a route I go that takes me directly into the sunrise, so it’s worth it.

Bath: 6:30 am
So I wouldn’t normally talk about this but taking a bath here in Ghana is a bit different than in the United States and I get a lot of questions inquiring about the process. Basically you take a bucket, put water in it (and I have amazing sisters who heat up the water over the fire), take the bucket to the wash house, and then splash yourself. A lot. I’m sure there are other methods to this. I’ve heard of some lifting the bucket over their head and doing the pour method, although then you take the risk of dropping the bucket on your head and frankly, I’m not willing to go out that way. Others have a cup that they dip into the bucket, and then proceed to pour in smaller increments, I believe this is how most do it and I think it’s generally a good way to go about it. I don’t have a cup to use though. Which is fine. So I splash.

Then there’s breakfast…
Food in Ghana…now this is a whole other issue. The food itself has been great. The portions on the other hand are outrageous. People here can eat pots of rice, a whole chicken and perhaps an entire yam in one sitting. The only thing is that no one is fat here. Because they are able to accomplish this they think that white people should do the same. They feed me and feed me and when I can’t finish they take it so personally that I’ve begun to hide the food in my room to eat later. When they see that I’ve finished what they’ve given me they clap and clap and say “You have done well.” I like it when they tell me this. Breakfast is probably my favorite meal and where I eat the most. I usually have bread with this peanut butter like substance (not as sweet and sort of crunchy), carrots, an orange, and two hard boiled eggs. They have this stuff called milo here that tastes like hot ovaltine. I’m a big fan of this so they bring a thermos of it in the mornings.

School: 8-5
This consists of lots of things. Four hours of it goes to language, the other part goes to more technical lessons (pardon the lack of excitement). Good stuff, but I don’t really want to write about it. We either stay in our communities or we go to Techiman for this time.

Home time: 5-Bedtime
This is the really fun part. This could consist of anything from playing soccer, learning how to cook, dancing, hiking, or pretty much anything else one feels inclined to do. I find that my family and I usually have the best conversations right after dinner when we’re hanging out on the porch. I really like these times. Sometimes my father takes me around to greet people, and by people I mean everyone in the village. Sometimes we just remain in the courtyard. They have many questions about America and some are very hard to explain given the cultural differences. Last night we went into a discussion about divorce. My father asked me why anyone would divorce in America. I told him there were a lot of reasons but to put it as simply as I could I said “I guess they don’t love each other anymore”. My father was very troubled by this and my mother even more so. He thought about it for a long time and then looked at me and said

“But love doesn’t end.”

And these are the moments you wish others were around. Moments where the simplicity of translation describes in four words what authors and poets have been teasing for centuries. As much as I miss icecream and a decent pillow I'm learning to recognize other things that suffice and as much as surpass. Things like kindness and conversations, the breeze in the mornings and my family's greeting when I return home for the evening.



There are difficult things as well. Very difficult things that sometimes seem like the only reality. But again, it's sort of a day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute mindset that sustains sanity. I feel that I've talked enough for this blog. I hope all is well for you who are reading. I appreciate your encouragement so much, thoughts from home are amazing to read.



Be well

The same sky

-And maybe it does take time to realize 9.29.07
That this is life;
And everything else lay in the commentary of our perceptions,
As if those were important.
If only time were natural and the rain cleansed the depravity of this red dirt
A little more than the innate abundance of its competition.
So maybe perceptions are important
Because this could be the best day of my life
And yet all you see is sorrow in the surroundings.
Even if that be,
I will still see you
Fuller than I
Of the joy it takes to sustain this
that is life.-

I’ve arrived at my host family’s house. I’d have to say that the anticipation of meeting my host family was almost as bad as walking the green mile down the Wichita airport after saying goodbye to my family and friends. Today my host father, I call him father, walked me around the village and as we greeted those who lived in the town I couldn’t help but comment on the storm that was forming and the way it was making the sun illustrate the clouds. I told my father that they had a very nice sky over the village and he laughed and said “But you have the same one no?”

I like it here.

Today has truly been a day where I’ve tried all my emotions; perhaps I was just making sure they were all still intact. When I arrived in the town the only thing I wanted to do was cry. I’m not real sure why but it really seemed like the thing to do. And so I did. But the thing about being a new white person in an African village is that someone is always watching. They want to meet you and greet you and ask you all sorts of questions about America and why you are not married. There is no time for breakdowns when you’re trying to establish a reputation.

But I still cried.

I missed home and I missed being normal and I missed having a conversation where I could say more than “Good afternoon” and “how are you?” So in the words of Anne Lamott, I prayed the deepest, most profound prayer that one could utter:

help.

And he did.

And for the next ten weeks I will be a part of this family. I have brothers and sisters and a father and a mother and they will teach me how to cook, clean, socialize, and in essence, become an African. They are very protective of me and I think it’s funny that they worry so much. The thing about being white in Ghana is that they assume you are rich, and that because you are rich you don’t do things like walk or lift heavy objects or cook or anything else back home. They worry if I go out and want to know when they should expect me back and they are very concerned that I eat well and fully.

Right now I’m sitting in the dark listening to the rain fall outside my window. There are bugs crawling up and down my computer screen and I can hear the children in the room next to me laughing. The amazing thing about grace is it’s comparison to the sky. Completely vast and seemingly tangible but when it is reached for we're somehow surprised that it is too big. And so we stand under it and marvel at all the ways it chooses to inspire us.

I love and miss you all.

10.1.07

Last night I finally broke out the guitar for the kids while we were sitting outside looking at the stars. They kept wanting to see what was inside that crazy box and so I played them a song. I told them that if I played they had to dance. And they did. Even my mother who speaks no english got up and started dancing around. I was playing a rendition of your love is extravegant and they wanted to know the words. So I told them and then we translated it to Twi so that the mother could sing too. It translated to "God's love is go good." It was awesome.

The kids are amazing here. They are all very intelligent and most speak english. Most of the time one of the children are translating between me and my mother. They are so fun to be around and I'm thankful for my brothers and sisters.

I'm going to get off of here and head back home. I should let you know that I will be in the Volta region for my pernament placement, the very north end of it. It's called the Nkwanta District in a village called Sibi Hill toop. It's somewhat isolated because the roads are pretty bad, most people travel around by bike.

Talk to you soon.

-Brenna