Mary and Sarah.

Sunday, August 17th, 2008
Sorry, this is going to be a long one...
Wow. Today was such a rich, cultural day. I cannot even put it into words. Nicole (one of the American missionaries) picked up Kenz, Maggie, and I from the front entrance of our university at 9:30 a.m. to go with her and her family and another missionary family to church. We went to Azbury Methodist Church. Nicole preached and she was wonderful. She preached about forgiveness. The best part was the praise and worship (Maddie, you would have been in Heaven). We sang shouted, danced, and clapped to "I am a friend of God", "You are the most High", and "Refiner's Fire", among many other Summit classics, I cannot recall at the moment. Everyone was on fire and it was so beautiful.

After church, Maggie, Kenz, and I rode with Nicole's family, all jammed-packed into their car (all 8 of us in the 5-seater) to meet Claire Moseley and her family at Papaye for lunch. Papaye is on Oxford Street, or as Nicole calls it the "Rodeo (restaurant) Drive" of Ghana. Papaye has fresh juices (tangerine, orange, and pineapple) for 1 Ghana cedis (about $1)--I got tangerine and it was so refreshing. Mag, Kenz, and I split two sides of french fries (yes, I forgot to mention that this is the closest place to America we've been yet), as we just needed something to hold us over until we ate at Miss Jane's house.

Claire Moseley is another American missionary (in the same program as Nicole's family) and she is so connected with all of Ghana. She is so eager to share her resources and information. Claire is looking to connect us soon with orphanages and other ministries. She even know a photographer that travels around Ghana taking photos, whom she hopes to connect me with. How fun! That would be such a perfect opportunity to foster growth in my passion for photography.

After lunch, Claire volunteered to get us to our next destination. She took us to La Paz, where we caught a taxi (after repeatedly trying to flag down tro-tros and failing miserably, as they were all full, or headed in a different direction) to Miss Jane's house in Awoshie.

Mary popped her head out from behind a pink cinder block wall, as our taxi pulled up, sprinting toward our cab. She opened my door, took the groceries I had brought out of my arms, and squeezed me so tightly. It was wonderful to see her again. The other kids quickly grew anxious with excitement as they saw us (3 obrunis--Maggie, Kenz, and me) walk up to their home. We were greeted with smiles, hugs, a brief "house tour", and of course, by Miss Jane's jovial spirit.

The house was very small for such a large family. I couldn't imagine how Miss Jane and her husband, their 5 biological children, her 2 nieces (Mary and Sarah), her cousins (Joanna and another girl), and her seamstress worker, plus other children bouncing back and forth (thus about 12-15 people at minimum) could squeeze into and live comfortably in such a tiny space.

Joanna, Miss Jane's cousin, was smiling her beautiful smile when we arrived, as she was hard at work, patting and pouring, and stirring and shaping to make the most perfectly round rice balls. Miss Jane was in the kitchen stirring and pounding to make the fufu. And all of the other children were running around cleaning and preparing dishes and all of the other embellishments. We brought 2 pineapples, 2 loaves of bread, Don Simon Heaven fruit juice, and 2 packs of chocolate chip cookies (yes, we managed to find these at the night market)to share with her family. And of course, I packed plenty of Polaroid film for after dessert (both of which--dessert and film--seem to be a rarity here in Ghana).

After playing with the kids and receiving many warm welcomes, lunch was served. All of us crammed in, outside, around a wooden plank bench (that we used as our table)and each of us sat at different levels, squashes on different sized wooden stools. One of the children blessed our food, then we all DUG in--literally.

As I think I have explained before, fufu is eaten by first taking your right hand, washing it in a basin of water, then burying it in a bowl of soup, consisting of "who-knows-what" (in this case, tilapia heads, scraps of chicken, tomato sauce, garlic, spices, and whatever else is lying around). The soup is then poured over a circular slab of dough that is created by pounding together cassava and plantains. You then pull a piece of dough off, sinking your hand in the soup, and you put it into you mouth, managing to somehow stick all of your fingers inside your mouth (let's just say that this isn't the most appetizing meal, but it's one of Ghana's most popular and common dishes). The Ghanaians were definitely experts, while Maggie, Kenz, and I took each pinch and bite with much apprehension. The rice ball's, however, were quite delicious and a little more appetizing to devour.

It was amazing to watch Joanna slice the pineapples we brought. She cute them up in seconds, and they were so sweet and delicious, quite a nice compliment to the lip-burning, spicy fufu. After pineapple and chocolate chip cookies, I took out the Polaroid camera, and the kids and Miss Jane all went b-a-n-a-n-a-s. I don't think any of them own photos and they certainly had never before seen anything like a Polaroid camera. I think Kenz and Maggie had fun in sharing the Polaroid experience for the first time with the kids, too.

Side-note: The reason Miss Jane extended the invitation for us to come to her house for lunch, was because she wanted to express her and her family's gratitude, now what Mary would be going to school next month. It was a celebration, a day of thanks, and we all embraced a sense of celebration and thankfulness. I told Kenz, "If this wasn't a day of truly experiencing Ghana/Africa, then I don't know what is."

McKenzie and Maggie took a special liking to Sarah (pictured above, with Sister Mary; Mary is 12, Sarah is 10), Mary's younger sister, who had the most angelic, shy face I have ever seen. When we arrived, she was quiet and seemed rather sad, sitting in a corner as she sat away from everyone else. Kenz and I were trying to figure out why she was so sad...later I realized why...

Before we came, everyone knew we (obrunis) were coming to celebrate Mary's school sponsorship. She was saddened, knowing she wouldn't be going to school next month. I didn't realize until this day that Mary had a younger sister, that was too, unschooled.

After lunch and Polaroid madness, Miss Jane wanted me to meet with Mary's mom, so she could thank me personally for "sponsoring" Mary. I walked with Miss Jane about a block from her house, where Mary's mom, dressed in a bathrobe, greeted me with the warmest, most generous smile. She extended her arm and sweetly mumbled, "God Bless you", as she looked at me with tears in her eyes. We both knew exactly what she meant.

I then followed Miss Jane and Mary (Mary's mom) into the tiniest "home" I have ever seen. It was a tiny shack and I entered through a hanging sheet. There were only streaks of light peeking through, the walls were dirty and tattered, and the wooden floor was eaten away and sunken in. Their home was no larger than an American laundryroom, and of course, the ceilings were much lower. Pots and pans lined the ceiling, and other odds and ends were scattered about the floor and hung among the walls.

Mary's mom spoke little English, as she is a fluent Twi speaker, so Miss Jane translated back and forth. The love and our exchange of smiles was understood despite language barriers. Her eyes conveyed all of her emotions. Mary's mom wanted to speak with me, Miss Jane translating, in person, to express the fullness of her gratitude. It was a beautiful moment.

Mary's mom didn't quite understand how a stranger would pay for her daughter's education, but I couldn't understand why or how a stranger wouldn't, after meeting a little girl that was so deserving with so much potential. I explained to her that in America, I was given the opportunity and right to an education and that Mary deserved nothing less. It was a gift I received that Mary should also receive.

Then I mentioned Sarah. I didn't know, until today, that Mary had a younger sister, named Sarah, who would also be unschooled come September. I told Mary that McKenzie and Maggie had taken a particular liking to Sarah and that it wasn't a "promise", but I would tell McKenzie and Maggie about Sarah and her schooling situation. If they felt called to support her, and were able to, then they would. Her eyes swelled with tears and her hands clenched mine with overwhelming joy and thankfulness. I will always remember that moment.

On our walk home, after a quiet taxi ride, I mentioned Sarah's situation to McKenzie and Maggie. They couldn't believe that it would only take $30 USD to send Sarah to school for the year. It wasn't a consideration or a question. Maggie and Kenz will be sending Sarah to school this fall. It was an obvious answer and quite the blessing.