Things that make me laugh

 Lately, I’ve been noticing things that amuse me.  I don’t mean in the way of making fun of someone, but just in a way of the differences in our styles.  For example, it’s not uncommon for people to ride in the open bed of trucks, even the large delivery trucks.  So the other day as I’m walking home from school, I see this man riding in the back of a delivery truck wearing a woman’s dress.  Only I don’t think he had a clue it was a woman’s dress.  It was a long, sleeveless, denim dress that buttons down the front, and he was wearing it like a long vest.  He had on trousers (pants refer to men’s underclothing), but no shirt, and this long denim dress.  If he only knew what it was I’m sure he’d be horrified – but then again, maybe not. 

To qualify what I’ve said I should explain that most of the clothing that doesn’t get sold at the Goodwill or Salvation Army stores in the States ends up in places like Ghana, and it gets sold at the market or by street vendors.  Many of the clothes I see here are things that came straight from the States, which is unfortunate in that the dress here has become grossly immodest because of our influence.  My blog, my opinions. :) 

Anyhow, do you remember me mentioning the tro-tro’s back along the end of May?  It’s the cheapest form of public transportation, and I think I said I don’t think I’ll ever ride in one of those things voluntarily.  Well, after paying $2 for a taxi ride somewhere, I decided to try the tro-tro for only 20 cents.  Of course, we don’t use dollars and cents, but I think you get the meaning.  Today, I caught a tro-tro to a local school, where I’ve been taking some French lessons (that’s a whole ‘nother story), and I told the side-car man where I wanted to get out.  You see the tro-tro is manned by 2 people – the driver and this guy I call a side-car man.  The vehicle has a sliding side door that in most tro-tros doesn’t really close any more, and this guy hangs out the window waving his hand and hollering something.  Basically, he’s trying to find out if the pedestrians along the side of the road are wanting a ride or just standing there waiting on something.  As the tro-tro slows down, he opens the door, hops out and lets you get in with the rest of the sardines, and you’re supposed to tell him where you want to be dropped.  I said to the man, “Calvary Temple School”.  Evidently, he didn’t understand me, and he asks me again after I’m in and we’re driving down the road.  They stop and pick up some more folks, and then this very long, loud, amusing conversation begins in Twi amongst all the passengers (except me).  I don’t understand much Twi, but it was obvious by the gesturing and the laughing that the conversation was about me.  I mean really, sometimes I think it’s so shocking for them to see someone white that they jump when they see me (at least, I hope that’s why they jump), so I wouldn’t expect to be in a tro-tro and not be the topic of conversation. Finally, the man next to me has enough nerve and skill in English to tell me neither the driver nor the side-car man know what to do with me.  “Where is it you want to go?” 

So, all of that to say, while we’re driving down the road in this tro-tro trying to get more passengers than could possibly be legal, the driver almost hits this pedestrian – an older, gray haired man wearing a woman’s black fur with leopard fur trim, winter hat.  After all, it was only 80 degrees today. From what I understand, we’re having better weather than the folks in the USA. 

Independence Day

This was a good weekend.  Saturday I went visiting with Felicia, Emmanuella and two other ladies.  Felicia is hot after souls!  Almost every one we meet she asks me, “Can we tell them the gospel, Miss Becky?”  What missionary’s going to say ‘no’ to that question???  We were able to speak with three people about the gospel – a young lady visiting in this region, a 16 year-old young man playing football (soccer), and a young man in his 20’s. 

The young lady listened as we explained the gospel – me in English and Felicia in Twi – but she was still convinced she needed to do something to get saved.  She promised to come to church today, but if she came we never saw her.

The 16 year-old stopped his football game and found 2 benches for us to sit and talk.  I usually begin by asking the person, ‘If you were to die today and stand before God, and He were to ask you why He should let you into heaven, what would be your response?’  Ernest’s response was amazingly honest.  He said, ‘If I should die today and face God, I guess he would have to send me to Hell, because I don’t know why He should let me into heaven.’  I was actually amazed at his ability to speak English, and so I let him read aloud the verses we were reading.  He had no argument believing he deserved to go to Hell (just as we all do), and he seemed to understand that Jesus came to die in his place.  I spoke with him in English initially, but when it was obvious he was struggling to understand some of what I was saying Felicia went over it all in Twi.  I thought he had a grasp of the gospel, and when I asked him what his thoughts were regarding our discussion he said he would like to put his trust in Jesus.  We prayed together, but I’m a little concerned after he made a comment about giving up all his sin.  I explained again that Christ died for all of our sins, and that as long as Ernest has flesh he is going to sin.  He promised to come to church, but again, if he came I did not see him.

The last man invited us to come and talk to him.  He was sitting outside his door doing laundry, but he stopped to sweep off the stair and lay down a garment on which we sat.  I asked him my usual question, and he said his trust was in Jesus Christ and that he believed in him.  I told him the devils of Hell believed in Jesus – they knew who He was from having known Him before they were banished from Heaven.  I read to him James 2:19, and then Felicia and the young man both demanded an explanation.  As soon as I explained about their (the devils) knowledge of Christ in Heaven they asked if those angels could accept Christ as Savior.  I told them ‘no’, and they both said they understood the difference – while the devils believe Jesus to be the Son of God, they could not accept His substitutionary death for salvation.  Yet as sinners, that death is the very thing to reconcile us to God.  Felicia and this young man have both accepted Christ’s death as the only satisfactory payment for their (our) sin to the One they (we) have offended.  I have no desire to take him from his church if they teach the gospel, but hopefully we will see him for other services when his church is not meeting.

Today we had a special day at church.  July 1 is the Ghanaian independence day, and of course ours is Monday.  So after the morning service we had a picnic lunch on the grounds, followed by volleyball, a football penalty kick shootout, other games and the evening service starting at 4:30 pm.  It’s been a while since I’ve played volleyball, but it sure was fun.  I did take a dive across the grass to save a ball, and came up full of stickers – what we call ‘goats heads’ in CO.  Except now my legs are covered with angry looking red spots, as though I have about 50 or more bites.  Who knows what’s in the dirt here! 

July 4^th every one on the team celebrated together at my apartment – 36 people in an 800 or 900 square foot apartment!  I say ‘my apartment’, but it really belongs to the ministry, not me.  And I got the better end of the deal. The men did the grilling outdoors (hamburgers, hotdogs and something that had the looks of pork chops but tasted like steak), and all the ladies brought sides.  There was even an apple pie contest, and I got to be a judge.  And if that wasn’t enough, I was allowed to turn on the A/C all day, so the house was very comfortable, even with all those folks.  We even adopted a fellow American that one of the missionaries met at a local store.  He’s just a ‘baby’, maybe 22 or 23 years old, and he’s here all by himself from another mission agency.  I’m sure his days get plenty lonely! 

We again played several games of volleyball, and the kids had a parade at the church.  They decorated their bikes and tricycles and even themselves.  One of the things that I appreciate in Ghana is the pro-American sentiment.  It’s not at all unusual to see American flags flying (or Israeli flags, either, for that matter), so it didn’t seem we would be offensive to have the patriotic paraphernalia. One of the Ghanaian young ladies helped me to clean up afterwards, so the house was back in order by nine that evening.  Needless to say, Ibuprofen was in order that night after all that activity! 

I have always been very patriotic, and in my younger years seriously considered military service, but I especially remind myself how blessed I am to have been born and raised in America now that I see what life is like outside our borders.  We’re not better than other folks, but God has certainly blessed our nation.  I fear for the choices we are now making that mock the God that has been so good to us.