This is Pastor Kristina writing tonight since Josh has headed off to the mountains for the second part of the Gaylordsville UMC trip.
Really this should say, "What a two days! What a two days!" (Go with me here.) We had our chance to get down to hot and sweaty work Monday morning, but were beat to the worksite by many of the villagers who were already hacking down the grass with machetes and mixing the concrete for blocks. The guys were eager to break a sweat! They were impressive! You would have been proud of them. Barbara jumped into it as well with both feet. In one moment she was bandaging cuts and attending to other minor medical needs; the next she was shoveling cement.
We all managed to find many ways to stay busy. We spent time with the children picking up garbage, playing, dancing, laughing, talking. Mostly, it was just great fun and a holy experience to spend time with the children. As someone said tonight during reflection, "I see God in the eyes of the children."
Today was somewhat a repeat of yesterday yet totally different. The nursery wall started to go up today! Four blocks high on one wall so far! Much success! In preparation for the activities with the children in the afternoon, the children started bringing the desks, stored at one school, over to the other school. David and Brian were two who got drafted by the children to help with this task. One can only shake your head to watch the competition that went on between the two. It is interesting to watch grown men benchpress a school desk. It got a lot of applause and laughter. Betty--one of our friends from Florida--had a group of a half dozen little children help her move desks, too. What troopers!
This afternoon was a delight in the classrooms. We met the principal and some of the teachers along with the children. In one room Dagmar taught how to make bracelets with floss, in another room Rae Ann led the children in making paper chains. I had a room with activities. We "did the hokey pokey and we turned ourselves around" among other games. We figured out how to put just about everything in and out of that circle!
The singing was wonderful! What a joy!
In the meantime a mass of other children were out in the field playing soccer/futball with David and Brian. The kids had a blast (that would include Brian and David).
Jay is walking on air tonight because we PLUGGED IN the lathe and IT WORKS! Electricity! Never take it for granted! Training has begun. Another God moment among the many today.
Our Florida friends Debbie and Betty as well as our WUMC friend Bill went to Accra today to make a Rotary Connection and celebrate the work they are doing. We look forward to there story.
We also look forward to hearing from our friends Joseph Ewoodzie, Pastor Marion, Joshua and Allie to know that they have made it safe to their next destination after a very long ride north on rugged roads to Tomale (sp?). We are all thankful to see that Allie is feeling much better now after having had a bout of sickness.
We are happily exhausted now. It has been a day of seeing God in so many ways. Thank you for keeping us in your prayers. We hold you all in our hearts. Many stories to share when we get home.
Blessings on the journey, PK
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
CONTINUED
We stepped through the high white archway, across the bridge and over the moat. Before setting foot inside the complex itself, we first had to buy our tour passes from a stout and smiling young man who sported a Barack Obama pin on his shirt, on his desk was The Audacity of Hope. He exchanged passes for money ("Nine dollar adult, four dollar student, extra fifty pesewa for camera use") while he went on about the soft cover-bound distilled brilliance that rest just beside his right arm. We said thank-you and went on our way.
The castle was all white-washed but for what original brick and stone work lay exposed, plaster long since chipped away. The structure itself would be out of place architecrually in any Dr. Seuss book. Its construction was purely utilitarian, in that the place served well as a means to what cruel ends its denizens had in mind for those imprisoned there. Icy efficiency. There was a brick court yard, on two sides prison cells. They were small and claustrophobic; it was indicated by our guide that as many as 150 captured men or women may have resided in the poorly ventilated (there was a ventilation hole high on one wall, but on the other end of it was the armory, so any incoming air was mostly sulfurous) dungeons for perhaps many months with but a bit of bread every day and buckets lined up against the back wall. On another side of the courtyard there were two smaller chambers, each with a heavy oak door such that but a pin-prick beam of sun may be admittied through into the pitch darkness. Here prisoners were put to starve to death, be they pirates or otherwise. On the couryard itself: There were circular depressions worn into the brick where canonballs were placed so that prisoners could be chained to them and left to bake in the hot sun until death bade them welcome. There was a high balcony above where whatever governor was stationed there could watch from his quarters.
Time limit low. More to come.
All is well!
Josh
The castle was all white-washed but for what original brick and stone work lay exposed, plaster long since chipped away. The structure itself would be out of place architecrually in any Dr. Seuss book. Its construction was purely utilitarian, in that the place served well as a means to what cruel ends its denizens had in mind for those imprisoned there. Icy efficiency. There was a brick court yard, on two sides prison cells. They were small and claustrophobic; it was indicated by our guide that as many as 150 captured men or women may have resided in the poorly ventilated (there was a ventilation hole high on one wall, but on the other end of it was the armory, so any incoming air was mostly sulfurous) dungeons for perhaps many months with but a bit of bread every day and buckets lined up against the back wall. On another side of the courtyard there were two smaller chambers, each with a heavy oak door such that but a pin-prick beam of sun may be admittied through into the pitch darkness. Here prisoners were put to starve to death, be they pirates or otherwise. On the couryard itself: There were circular depressions worn into the brick where canonballs were placed so that prisoners could be chained to them and left to bake in the hot sun until death bade them welcome. There was a high balcony above where whatever governor was stationed there could watch from his quarters.
Time limit low. More to come.
All is well!
Josh
Saturday, September 6, 2008
MOM DON'T HAVE BLOG LOGIN, PLEASE POST THIS.
Well, we've had a busy day and I've not had the chance to write any sort of first draft for this post on account of the fact that I left my note pad at the guest house and we haven't stopped there since this morning, so I'll keep this un-complicated. We had breakfast as usual, piled in the van, and left for our first adventure of the day: Kakum old-growth rain forest and national park. We arrived early (before the crowds that would show up later, just as we were leaving) and quickly got all of our things in order so that we could embark on our much-anticipated canopy walk, over 200 feet above sea level, and 120 feet above the ground below. The hike up to the boarding platform was somewhat arduous, especially for those among us not so acclimated. We had to traverse whole rivers and little tributaries of busy ants beneath our feet (some clad in but flip-flops) up uneven and in some cases jagged stone steps, but only for about 100 feet. It wasn't bad. Other obstacles we faced on our way: Stumps, vines, and for a minute we could've even thought snakes as well, but alas they were but slick, diamond-patterned vines and roots (quite beautiful, really). At many times our imaginations got the best of us. The trees were magnificent, and so was our guide. He went to great lengths to try and describe the functions of all the native flora, and he did so with utmost eloquence. For instance, there was one tree whose roots stretched from the trunk to the ground forming almost perfect right triangles. The membrane, seemingly stiff, was taught like the skin on a drum, and acted similarly, for when pounded a loud boom sent birds from their nests. As for the walk itself-- though we were basically walking on extension ladders held by nets, we felt quite comfortable for the most part. Looking down, it was absolutely astounding to witness the sheer magnitude of the biodiversity beneath our own feat.
Our second stop was St. George or Elmina "slave castle." We had to dodge vendors on our way from the van to the structure itself, but once we were up close and personal with the stark white and towering sides, the vendors of a few moments before all of a sudden paled in comparison with regards to sheer intimidation. It was really something else. There was a gate suspended over a roughly 12-foot wide mote, still another 16 feet deep. It was all a very emotional experience for us all, from the moment we entered to the moment we left through "the gate of no return." To be honest, I cannot properly convey its impact on us in the 3 minutes that I have remaining. I shall have a proper update for tomorrow, but for now I must get going.
All is well!
Josh
Our second stop was St. George or Elmina "slave castle." We had to dodge vendors on our way from the van to the structure itself, but once we were up close and personal with the stark white and towering sides, the vendors of a few moments before all of a sudden paled in comparison with regards to sheer intimidation. It was really something else. There was a gate suspended over a roughly 12-foot wide mote, still another 16 feet deep. It was all a very emotional experience for us all, from the moment we entered to the moment we left through "the gate of no return." To be honest, I cannot properly convey its impact on us in the 3 minutes that I have remaining. I shall have a proper update for tomorrow, but for now I must get going.
All is well!
Josh
Friday, September 5, 2008
This keyboard is sticky.
when I was showering this morning, that was the closest I had come to dancing up to that point-- beneath a trickle of cold water. After a wonderful breakfast of toast, steamed cabbage, and warm links of what looked and tasted rather like hot dogs as opposed to the sausage that we're more accustomed to at breakfast time. Regardless, it was absolutely fantastic;trying new things is a concept that has been absolutely intrinsic to this trip. On our way out, we waved good-bye to one of the little boys who lives at the guest house that we're spending our nights in. His name is "Papa," and it's been somewhat strange calling such a young boy that name, more of a title to us. He waved back as the van left the guest house behind.
On our adventures in the town (I refrain from calling it a village now because that word, when used to reference his home, seemed to strike one little boy as disrespectful, and he warned me of this): I can now, upon some reflection, say that it all seemed to smell like a U.S. civil war reenactment camp, on account of the myriad cooking fires. Anything burnable and dry was burned, and everything was dry and burnable. At the town limits by the road, there could be seen a sort of shrine looking thing. Low, white-washed concrete walls festooned with painted imagery of village elders, one with a spear and the other brandishing a rifle, and a tiger lunging forward with a porcupine caught in its toothy maw.
Walking down one of many winding, rust-colored and narrow paths towards the new school. Little boys and girls, all sporting shaved heads and ear-to-ear grins shouted "obruni, obruni!" as they tugged at our clothing. There was a grassy clearing between the left and right sides where we were greeted by a toothy, leather skinned old man with salt-and-pepper whiskers and a hot-pink mesh hat on. Her seemed to be dancing a sort of low to the ground free-form jig as he shook our hands and swept at our cheeks and necks with an off-white handkerchief. He tried to get us to dance with him and the others, but to no avail on my behalf. The most comfortable I was for a while was playing ball with the town boys-- mostly a volleyball-like game where we all tried to keep a small-sized plastic soccer ball up in the air for as long as possible. I was afraid for a bit that someone'd get smacked in the face, but all went well. There was quite a hooplah, drums and clapping evrywhere, and even a brass band, as well as a few efforts to get me to dance. I had to cave eventually.
After a good two hours of laughing and shouting and carrying on, the real ceremony began, as the delivery taxi with the chief's ceremonial umbrella finally arrived-- remember, we're living on Ghana time now.
From within the school building emerged the first umbrella, beneath it Rae-Anne ("Queen Mother") and Jay ("Nana Jay"). Ray-Anne and Jay were garbed in cream-colored wrap-around robes with gold ribbon interwoven into the fabric, coupled with gold necklaces, bracelets and anklets, as well as (according to Jay) very uncomfortable sandals accented with yet more of the glistening stuff. The same might be said of the Chief, but rather ten fold. The village proceeded to parade 2 miles up the road, government officials directing traffic to facilitate the festivities.
All is well!
On our adventures in the town (I refrain from calling it a village now because that word, when used to reference his home, seemed to strike one little boy as disrespectful, and he warned me of this): I can now, upon some reflection, say that it all seemed to smell like a U.S. civil war reenactment camp, on account of the myriad cooking fires. Anything burnable and dry was burned, and everything was dry and burnable. At the town limits by the road, there could be seen a sort of shrine looking thing. Low, white-washed concrete walls festooned with painted imagery of village elders, one with a spear and the other brandishing a rifle, and a tiger lunging forward with a porcupine caught in its toothy maw.
Walking down one of many winding, rust-colored and narrow paths towards the new school. Little boys and girls, all sporting shaved heads and ear-to-ear grins shouted "obruni, obruni!" as they tugged at our clothing. There was a grassy clearing between the left and right sides where we were greeted by a toothy, leather skinned old man with salt-and-pepper whiskers and a hot-pink mesh hat on. Her seemed to be dancing a sort of low to the ground free-form jig as he shook our hands and swept at our cheeks and necks with an off-white handkerchief. He tried to get us to dance with him and the others, but to no avail on my behalf. The most comfortable I was for a while was playing ball with the town boys-- mostly a volleyball-like game where we all tried to keep a small-sized plastic soccer ball up in the air for as long as possible. I was afraid for a bit that someone'd get smacked in the face, but all went well. There was quite a hooplah, drums and clapping evrywhere, and even a brass band, as well as a few efforts to get me to dance. I had to cave eventually.
After a good two hours of laughing and shouting and carrying on, the real ceremony began, as the delivery taxi with the chief's ceremonial umbrella finally arrived-- remember, we're living on Ghana time now.
From within the school building emerged the first umbrella, beneath it Rae-Anne ("Queen Mother") and Jay ("Nana Jay"). Ray-Anne and Jay were garbed in cream-colored wrap-around robes with gold ribbon interwoven into the fabric, coupled with gold necklaces, bracelets and anklets, as well as (according to Jay) very uncomfortable sandals accented with yet more of the glistening stuff. The same might be said of the Chief, but rather ten fold. The village proceeded to parade 2 miles up the road, government officials directing traffic to facilitate the festivities.
All is well!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Nous avons arrive!
7:30 this morning, my eyes still shut behind the standard-issue Delta Airlines shade mask, I grope blindly for the shade to my window seat, 25A. A blinding flash penetrated the mask and shook me instantly awake: It was morning, far above but not far away from our destination. 45 minutes later, the sound of wheels skidding was met by the din of passengers clapping. The landing strip was not like those of JFK international, NY, NY. Rather, it was a single long stretch of faded pavement rife with venous cracks that weeds grew out of. The surrounding scenery consisted of earthy red pock marked with the occasional verdant patch, palm trees in the distance.
In the city, a man sped by veering betwixt vehicles riding his hand-made recumbent bicycle hewn of a wheel chair and a road bike welded together. Street vendors with their wares prominently displayed upon their heads like crowns milled about our van and tried in vain to speak above the banter surrounding everything. I can't tell if the smell is that of diesel fuel or of burning peanut oil.
At the market, the same smell, spiced up with spice racks and garbage heaps, vultures in our midst. The drab surroundings are made cheery with the eager children rushing to touch us and vying for digital photos. Colorful hand-made boats descended from whole logs dip like buoys in the rough waves-- abnormally rough, one has capsized!
I have 3 minutes left to this session. All is great!
In the city, a man sped by veering betwixt vehicles riding his hand-made recumbent bicycle hewn of a wheel chair and a road bike welded together. Street vendors with their wares prominently displayed upon their heads like crowns milled about our van and tried in vain to speak above the banter surrounding everything. I can't tell if the smell is that of diesel fuel or of burning peanut oil.
At the market, the same smell, spiced up with spice racks and garbage heaps, vultures in our midst. The drab surroundings are made cheery with the eager children rushing to touch us and vying for digital photos. Colorful hand-made boats descended from whole logs dip like buoys in the rough waves-- abnormally rough, one has capsized!
I have 3 minutes left to this session. All is great!
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