Thanks for the birthday wishes!

 Thanks to so many, I had a great birthday.  I had several Facebook posts, wishing me a happy birthday, and I even got 4 packages of birthday goodies!  It took some time to claim them at the post office, though.  The first three were easy, but one was sent to the ‘parcel service’.  The lady completed some paperwork and charged me 7 GHC, about $5, and then gave my package to another person further down the counter.  When he got around to helping me, I was made to open the package for him to inspect the goods and determine how much to charge me for customs fees.  He saw my trail mix and said, ‘You people’, with a little bit of disgust in his voice, and he questioned me as to what hairspray is.  He was completely bald – kind of a waste. :) Some other lady looked things over and had me give him back the paperwork (despite the fact he was standing right next to her), and I was again told to have a seat.  The whole thing took about an hour, but I finally got my package and it didn’t matter the silly paperwork exercise – I have trail mix!!  And it’s not the store bought kind.  No, this is a special mix created by my pastor’s wife and shared with a dear friend that I’m sure spent an arm and a leg buying the ingredients and then paying the postage.  Every handful reminds me that I’m loved.  Ahhh – happy camper. :)

For those I haven’t told yet, I have relocated for the summer to Kumasi, Ghana.  One of my supporting churches has a team of missionaries here.  I’m helping out in the mornings at their ACE Christian school, and I’m really enjoying it.  Let me tell you about one of the little girls.  Her name is Emmanuella, and she’s about 8 or 9 years old.  I’m not sure exactly how she came to Christ, but when she didn’t show up at her public school her teacher came looking for her.  She just has a very sweet spirit, and I can see why her teacher would take notice that she was missing.  When the teacher found out she was going to a Christian school, Emmanuella invited her to visit the church.  On her first or second visit to the church, the teacher, Felicia, got saved, and now comes to every service, including soul winning.  I have gone out with her a few times on Saturday mornings, and she wants us to stop at each vendor to witness to them!  She translates for me, and I believe she will soon be doing the witnessing on her own.  Both Felicia and Emmanuella are real delights. 

Sounds of Africa

 There are many sounds that come to my ears each day that in these three months have become familiar to me.

Each morning around 5 am I here the high-pitched cacophony of these beautiful, iridescent blue birds.  They are not nearly as big as the noise that comes from their pointy, bright orange beaks!  It seems they always precede my alarm clock by about 30 minutes. 

I hear the constant hum of the ceiling fans that bring a comfortable breeze through the house in the mornings, and a thick, humid stirring of air in the afternoon heat.  When the hum arrests during electrical outages, there is a physical discomfort that comes with the silence.  Thankfully, those outages usually last only an hour or so.

Around 8:30 each morning the familiar cry of a lady’s voice begins to come to my conscience mind.  It took several weeks before I understood her to be calling out, “Ice water for sale!”  I finally understood her call one morning as I spotted her walking by the house with a tub of water sachets on her head.

There always seems to be hammering of some sort.  I still don’t know what it is that is being pounded, and I’m sure it’s not coming from the same source each time.  Plus, there is the beating of drums every morning at a local school.

When Isaac is here, it is the grass being ‘mown’ by a machete.  I miss the smell of mown grass by a lawnmower. 

Occasionally I hear sirens, but not often.  And there are always horns honking when going to the market.  It’s not for the purpose of telling people to get out of the way, rather to tell people “I’m here”.  For a taxi driver, he wants potential customers to know he’s available.  For the driver going around the curve in the road it is to announce to oncoming traffic to get into their ‘lane’.  I use that term loosely, as often the vehicles drive 3 or 4 abreast, regardless of how wide the road was intended to be.

When on foot, the most common call falling on my ears is, “Oh broni!”  It is the Fante word for white person, and the little children come running to the side of the road to announce to the neighbors the presence of a white person.  I try to always wave to acknowledge them, and sometimes the very small children want to touch me.  Their eyes get like saucers, and sometimes just before our hands will touch it is too much and they begin crying and run away. 

The cocks crowing, the goats and sheep bleating, the dogs barking – those sounds are a constant throughout the day.

The smells are a totally different subject!