Our village. Our home.

Apologies, I feel, are in order. Specifically for those of you who are teachers, writers, or lovers of English.  I fear my writing may cause you pain. Please think of this as my rough draft. In most cases, you, my reader, have a front row seat to my feeble attempts to squash my inner musings into words. You are seeing Kyekyewere, Ashanti Region, Ghana, Africa through my eyes. You are feeling it with my heart. 

I will breeze through our time spent in Accra or this will be dreadfully lengthy.  Our missionaries have used the WEC Mission facilities we stayed at for years. It's not too far from the airport and has all the things we need for a comfortable stay. We were quite impressed, and oh! how our beds felt delightful after that long night we had spent soaring ore’ the ocean! Ivan was thrilled with his freedom and I wondered if he even comprehended that this was any differentthan stateside. As long as there is dirt, rocks, sticks, and a ball, the boy is happy. Maddie made use of my proverbial apron strings, but when asked, “Do you like Ghana?”, she answered with a smile, nod, and a nearly inaudible “ya”. I was honestly quite amazed how nice everything was. In my mind I was picturing something like Port au prince, Haiti, and while there were definitely similarities, this was so… modern… americanized…? What struck me the most was the stark contrast of tiny, scrapped together huts sitting right next to new, very modern, humongous builds with beautiful landscaping. Ladies with carefully stacked produce atop their heads sold their oranges, fried goods, eggs, and other miscellaneous things with the backdrop of towering highrise apartments, or maybe a mall or shop rite.

Maddie baffled me by volunteering the statements such as “I happy. Like Ghana, it neat.” backed by “I want go to Ghana!”. Finally I figured out that she wanted to go to HER house in Ghana. Yes. Me too, girl. 

While it was marvelous to be with and get to know our mission family, I was getting tired of domino's pizza, burger King, the huge, overwhelming grocery stores, and . I felt like country mouse when she visited her cousin in the city. It was nice to know that in the months to come, when I am homesick to the core, and just want too see some American food or labels, I can go roam the isles of Melcom. That being said, I was more than happy to leave the city behind. After a small service, we all jammed our suitcases into the two awaiting vans. 

Northern Ghana Missionaries

Zebilla 

Hoz & Jana Doolittle (Grant, Nebraska)

Thomas (10), Olivia (8), Max (3)

Erica Toews is their teacher. (Inman, Kansas )

Walewale

Tyson & Robin Schneider (Grifton, North Carolina)

Levi (7) Brody(3)

Andra Dirks is their teacher. (Scott City, Kansas)

Some things of interest concerning the aforementioned humans…

  •Tysons met us at DC and we boarded the plane to Ghana together. They, too, are first time missionaries, and I find that very comforting. We will learn Ghana together, albeit several hours apart. They also did not have the privilege of overlapping with the past missionaries at their post. I'm sure they could use prayers this next while as well♡

  • Jana is my dad's first cousin; her mom and my dad's dad are siblings.

  • Andra is my first cousin; our dads are brothers. 

It seems that our family has a fairly strong representation here, and I find that humorous. It was SO nice to know at least a few of the faces here from earlier times. 

  •I hear varying times concerning the travel time from our residence to Tysons. The traffic and road conditions can make a lot of difference.  Google maps says 7 hr, 9 min. Hoz’s are an hour and 45 minutes past Tysons. 

Southern Ghana Missionaries 

Akumadan

Trevor and Starla Goosen

Liam (13), Aunika (10), Trey(8), Riel (5)

Cassie (kc) Loewen is their teacher. (Lindon, Alberta)

And then us, but you know that. 

Every nook, every cranny was full in our van, as I'm sure you can imagine. All our many many luggage-es , plus all of theirs, plus groceries.. snacks.. just all the stuff. So. The next 6? hours were spent rattling over the pavement (or at times the lack thereof) towards our mission house.. My heart was happy as I saw the city fade away, then be replaced with calmer views. A ramshackle hut here, a little village there, a little bigger village.. oh look! A funeral! And, Maddie look! It's a  baby goat! And can you find the chicken? Banana trees, so many of them. Then suddenly a huge warehouse in the process of being built. By huge, I mean… as big as any amazon warehouse I've seen statewide. I had to wonder what that would look like by the time we say our farewells to this land. The scenery grew more and more amazing the further we went. The people grew more and more interested in the “bronie!” people trundling past them. Everyone wanted to see the white babies, to touch them. To show their babies my babies. Ivan's slow, but very obvious comprehension that he was very important cracked me up. I could just see his little brain working. “ Are they? SURELY not?  Waving at me? OH! YES THEY ARE. LET ME DO A LITTLE WAVE. Just a royal wave. I am very important. Yes. I must act subdued. Mom? Are you seeing this? I am very important indeed. A king, per say. THEY ARE WAVING AT ME! All of them!”

Hills, trees, rice fields, all shrouded in humidity and sunlight. A mama with a baby on her back, and a bundle of sticks atop her head. A little boy (4?) with his baby sibling on his back,  A girl (10?) bathing herself beside the road, never a thought that someone might think it odd. Market stands, expertly stacked with bright colored produce, pottery, bread.. “Fast food!” stands- I don't know the names of the food they were selling yet. A mama hen with her fluffy little chick imitating her every move. A man carrying a log atop his head. How much weight do they carry like that?

And then. Finally. A sign that read , “ (Name of highschool) welcomes you to Kyekyewere. Then we drove a while. Then. Ah. This must be it. We rolled through a small village.  A village that seemed to be just the right size. And then trev had backed up to a gate.I must have been spaced out or something, because i didnt know where we were. There was a cement wall. A gate. He was getting out. Keys rattled. Is this it? Our place? Or maybe he is just stopping by church. No. Robert and maddie are out, and a papa, white teeth glinting, was inviting us in. I saw through the gate. Yes. Home. 

The ladies busily got supper on, and I tried to.. I don't even remember what. A headache had hit about 45 minutes before we got to the house, and I tried so hard to just take it all in anyway. But I finally just went and laid down. Just for a bit. But the room was dark, and the children sounded happy.. and then robert was saying supper was ready and here. Take this pill. Hoz says they will knock a headache out. Coffee? Yes. 

And the pill worked. I was so beyond thankful. 

Trevs are still here. I am so glad. It's been so absolutely wonderfully nice. It's gonna be kinda terrifying to see the  big van and its occupants off down the road when that time comes. Then, we will truly be here alone. Just us. Americans. Our skin glaringly pale, our hair frightfully limp. In a village. A beautiful village of beautiful people whose skin shines in the African sun. People, who we don't know yet. Whose smiles are so bright they make me forget my fears for a bit. Whose laughter is so contagious that I have to laugh with them, even if I didn't quite understand what they were laughing about. But it will be fine. God is in Kyekyewere too. And he will help us. 

And now. It's Wednesday. The day is over. Once again, the hour is dreadfully late, but I had to finish this epistle. At least finish it enough so you can read it. I have a lot more to tell you. Some from before this, and some from after. But it will have to be another day. Trevs left after supper. Our house seems very quiet. We will see them soon. I could have hugged every last one of them like it would be a very long time. But I didn't. I just waved, said thank you. Watched maddie, atop her strider bike, wave as well, then blow a kiss. Ivan, in only his diaper, holding Robert's pant leg, the light Ghanaian rain falling on us all. A flash of lightning far away. No thunder. Trey had clambered in the back door of their vehicle, and, as they pulled away from our gate, it swung half open, and I had to laugh. I could imagine the dialogue inside.

 They have done plenty for us. Even if it seems like something small to them. It is plenty. Anna…

Small, and plenty, are far over used in Ghanaian English. They completely replace words and phrases such as little, a small amount, a small tip…  Anna, pronounced in a very breathy, almost inaudible at times, ŏnnŏ, the last sound fading out at the end of a phrase or question.. I'm sure I'll give you more quotations and whatnot in a following post♡ love to all!