Trying to get home & other ramblings

Yesterday Rachel and I spent the whole day from 6:15a to after midnight in the Accra airport trying to get on the one flight per day (4 times per week) from Ghana to the USA on Delta. The flight was supposed to depart at 9:30a, but was delayed until midnight. We went through the three hour process in the morning only to find out we would have to come back or stay until late. Then we did not get on the flight ... there were 5 of us standbys turned away (of those who were approved in the morning). A Delta flight attendant, flying standby, shook her head and says she doesn't understand why the seats are not filled; she felt badly for us, but there was nothing she could do.

So we came back to BH at 1a this morning, woke us the baby house mothers to unlock the gate and hit the sack. We will try again tomorrow morning early.

The process from arrival at the airport to arrival at the gate is the most laborious imaginable.... really more like unimaginable. Rachel counted something like 20 times we had to stand in line and do some process, sometimes repeatedly. Not fun!!

On the brighter side, here are some of the fun things that have been happening.

1) A truck load of pineapple arrived this morning. What fun watching the children, large and small, carrying the pineapples from the huge pile in the front around to the back of the building near the kitchen. Mama Shelter cut the yummy fruit for a mid-morning snack. There was loads for everyone and still many dozens left.

2) Yes, I said Mama Shelter did the kitchen duty. Due to a change in schedule, she has to cook on the weekend as well as manage the boys. She also has done the Saturday shopping at the Madina open-air 'market' the past several weeks. I did not go today, but did so the past two weeks. It is quite an adventure. Shelter is a remarkable woman!!

3) The first weekend Shelter was cooking, she was distracted by a screaming child and badly burned her left forearm and hand. The next day, I took her to the local doctor around the corner who treated the arm, started her on antibiotic, and told her to return in two days. Can you imagine a consultation, treatment, and three prescription meds all for 20 Ghana Cedis (about $15)? As trivial as this seems to us, it is not in the budget of either the staff members or Beacon House. I gladly paid the bill and made sure there was enough on account to cover several weeks of return visits. The folks here really appreciate the little things that Rachel and I are doing to help them and the children. They are great!

4) Most of you know that I am a woodworker and enjoy using my tools. The kitchen needed another cabinet/bookcase type of counter space to put the needed additional water filters. Emanuel (the driver), Isaac (the gatekeeper and general helper) and I went to the 'lumber yard' one day to buy the wood. There were only three sizes of wood, all too long to fit in the car, no way of cutting except with a very dull hand saw. What a challenge!! We finally got to wood to BH, changed our design several times to accommodate the varying thicknesses of wood and crude tools, and eventually finished the rather rough looking, but functional piece (see photos).

5) We now have enough filtered water for everyone to have 'plenty' to drink. Oh, my goodness, did I hear the cries of "I need plenty" when the children were thirsty and there wasn't enough filtered water.

6) Rachel and I spent a fun time one afternoon sorting out and listing our differences. You can see her writing on monica-dailydozen.blogspot.com. We agreed that some of our strengths are also weaknesses and that together we usually balance each other.

7) One of our differences is that I am often very persistent. One case in point was my working hard to finally connect with Ghana Scouters. There is a political problem happening here in the Scouting organization, but finally I located some leaders and spent an enjoyable afternoon sharing ideas and swapping stories. There was not time left in our stay for me to visit any of the youth activities.

8) One Friday I was sent with baby M to see the doctor at Police Hospital (free for the BH kids). She had a persistent fever, usually unrelieved by medication. She was admitted to the ward (hospitalized). I did the admitting process and stayed with her until a BH staff member could come. The hospital staff only administers IV meds and directs the administration of by-mouth meds. Everything else in the care of the child must be done by family, or in this case by BH staff. The next several days staff members did 24 hour shifts. One shift was to be 36 hours, including 2 nights with no sleep. I volunteered to do the second night shift and was packed ready to go when we received word that baby M was to be discharged and sent home. Now, a week later she is looking and doing somewhat better. Julianna, her caregiver is really doing a good job of problem solving, sorting out some of the doctor's orders and how they affect baby M. She is persisting in giving M water with electrolytes and liking the results of less fever, more strength, and more interest in life.

9) Last Sunday Romana took us to an Italian pizza place. It was excellent!!

10) The children were full of hugs when we told them we were leaving ... and again full of hugs when they found us here again this morning. I will really miss them, but am anxious to be with my grandchildren; I miss them very much.

Time to get back to the things we do here. Hope to see you all soon.

Final Update......

All the good byes have been said (except for our good byes to the
children, which we will say tonight). All the bags are packed (except
for our last minute things, and oh...a Fra-fra Bible which Grandma
Judy just ran out to go get!). Our fridge is empty (except for some
oatmeal for breakfast tomorrow). The day is finished (except for a
final futbol game). The trip is over (unless we come back bleary-eyed
from the airport because there was no room for us).

I guess I can understand why I don't feel as emotional as I should
about leaving. There are so many "what-ifs" and loose ends, at times
it seems like we're not leaving at all! I have a feeling that it will
be a lot like it was coming over--I didn't really start crying until
the plane was taking off. There's something about watching the ground
disappear below you and knowing your family and friends and everything
you love is standing on it and you're not anymore. Now I'll be
watching Africa disappear...along with Beacon House and all the
children and the volunteers and all the amazing people I've met on
this trip. Only this time, I have no idea when or if I'll be coming
back. But right now, none of that feels imminent, even though we're
leaving in 9 and a half hours. I'm just here, doing the same things
I've been doing for the past almost 8 weeks, and I guess I'll keep on
doing it until I have to stop.

Please keep praying for our travel home. Neither Grandma Judy or I has
any idea of what going through a Ghanaian airport with all our luggage
will be like. Not to mention there is a connecting flight in NY which
we would REALLY like to get on...however it will be cutting it pretty
close. So PRAY hard with us that we will make it home in His perfect
timing (which we hope against hope is also OUR timing).

We love you guys and canNOT wait to see you all. Thanks for joining us
on this journey!

~Rachel~

Update 10

Before our general activity report, I have some messages to relate to my parents.

Mom: Last night Grandma Judy and I made a list of the differences in our personalities. It has been pretty interesting to live with someone in a fairly enclosed space for two months—you get a great crash course in what they’re like. I thought you might like to see what we have come up with as we near the close of this short chapter together.

Grandma Judy: Constantly in motion. I couldn’t get her to sit down for 10 minutes to listen to something on my iPod with me. She MUST have an occupation. (However, I will admit that she does find a few hours to sleep every night).

Rachel: Yesterday I spent nearly the whole afternoon reading two books I found at a Jumble Sale, and I do not consider that time wasted, thank you very much. I’m not constantly lazing around, but I find it much easier to laze around.

Grandma Judy will spend an entire afternoon doing nothing when Arnold Schwarzenegger paints his toenails hot pink

Grandma Judy: Loves to solve practical problems and implement her plans.

Rachel: Loves to daydream about unrealities and prefers to follow someone else’s plan.

Grandma Judy: When she sets her mind on a thing as being useful/needful/desirable, she refuses to rest until: a) it happens, b) the last hope of making it happen is exhausted, or c) plausible reasons are found for it not being useful/needful/desirable. Some call it stubborn, we call it “persevering.”

Rachel: I go with the flow, don’t tend to exert much effort to make something happen when I encounter opposition. I don’t like to push my way into something. Some call it slothful, we call it “flexible.”

Grandma Judy: Prepares for every contingency, even if there is only the barest possibility of it ever occurring.

Rachel: I don’t dwell too much on “what-ifs,” but then find myself constantly making unnecessary snafus.

Grandma Judy: Speaks very deliberately and makes sure every thought is verbalized correctly so nothing she says will be misunderstood.

Rachel: I talk fast and think faster (as all of my friends can readily attest). About a third of what I’m thinking actually comes out in what I say, especially when I skip words and sentences assuming that the other person will be able to fill in what I meant.

Grandma Judy: Spends more of her time with the adults.

Rachel: Spends more of her time with the kids.

That’s about all we’ve thought up so far. Are we accurate in our perceptions, do you think?

Dad: You’ll be sad to hear that I bailed out of two awesome potential presents for you this past week. The first one was a T-shirt at Global Mamas that said “Welcome to Ghana: Please Do Not Urinate Here.” I didn’t buy it, but only after epic internal struggle. The other was at the bookshop in the Accra Mall. I’m not sure what exactly was in the book, but the title was “Salutations to the Gut.” The only thing that kept me from getting it was the fact that a tiny book about 3 inches square cost almost 20 Cedis. Sorry Dad! I do have a present for you, but you might not find it quite as entertaining as either of those would have been.

So anyway, on to the actual update.

On Friday the volunteers and I took six of the children to the pool for a swim. They had a great time, but the next day my arms and shoulders ached from carrying G. We played Marco Polo and had a water gun fight (did you know that shooting someone with a water gun can relieve stress?), and they got to have cookies for a snack. It was a fun treat.

We are hoping to get on a flight on the 21^st, this coming Friday. I would like to be spiritual enough to ask you to pray for us to get on the flight if God decides the time is right, but I’d much rather you pray that God decides the time is right now. I know it’s all in His hands, but I will feel so much better when the plane takes off from African soil! Not that I’m completely glad to be leaving—I feel like I’m just starting to get a handle on my teaching and forming relationships with the kids. If God sends me here again, I will definitely come for a longer stint, i.e. six months to a year. Two months just doesn’t feel like enough. But I am SO ready to come home. Get birthday cake out of the freezer and Margaret and Lydia out of my room, this girl is movin’ back in!

Other prayer requests: Baby M is back in the hospital. She had a fever last week and still looks pretty malnourished. And as usual keep praying for Grandma Judy and I to be healthy and able to accomplish the tasks of each day…without getting too caught up in the days ahead.

God bless!!!!

~Rachel~

Up North and Other Ramblings :)

Last night, I was sitting outside for awhile in the cool breeze. Some of the toddlers were still up and running loose. Joshua saw me and ran into my legs yelling “Aaaaah” all the way. Soon three more were following his example. They each ran into me then chased each other about 25 feet, turned and raced back yelling “Aaaaah” and crashed into me. What fun? It was good to be back home at Beacon House after being away for a few days.





The Drive North:

Our trip to the north was exhausting, gut wrenching, exhilarating, and inspiring all at the same time. Thursday and Saturday were 12 hour days of driving on roads that ranged from good surface two lane hiways to muddy, rutted, pothole filled dirt ‘hiways’ and Friday found us on things that looked like cow paths with no indication where to go. Even our local navigator got lost.



Mama Laddie’s Foster Home:

Mama Laddie runs a clean, very efficient foster home for some very eager, happy children. They all held one of the many items that we brought (meds and other supplies) for a big group photo.


VEA Village:

Pastor John (a Ghanaian) proudly showed us his village, the school, library, church, and cultural center. There is great poverty here, but they work hard to give their children all the spiritual, cultural, and educational guidance they can muster.

John took us to meet with the village chief … a stately man who, at first, conversed through Pastor John as interpreter, then asked if he could address us. He spoke in good English about his dreams for his village and people. He hopes westerners will not ‘give them fish’, but ‘help their children to learn to fish’, then return them to the village.

Pastor John showed us his home. I was delighted to see inside one of the compounds that are so unique in their architecture. John also showed us the photo album that included pictures of his niece and nephew who are now living with their adoptive family in the Pacific Northwest. We also saw the small plot of land that he tries to farm … a very hard task in such rocky soil.

We visited Granddaughter Lydia’s tiny grandmother. Rachel showed her the album she brought for her and also showed her the video clips of Lydia playing the piano and showing off her bedroom. The reactions of ‘grandmother’ and all the various relatives was a delight. We bought many baskets that ‘grandmother’ and the other women wove. ‘Grandmother’ was a bit puzzled with the solar/crank lantern we took to her, but hopefully the younger crowd will help her use it. While there, we became acquainted with Bonga the donkey Rachel bought a year or so ago along with a cart.





Nurse Bertilda and the Presbyterian Clinic:

Nurse Bertilda’s clinic is amazing, considering its small size, no electricity, and no running water. There was one woman in labor, one woman who had given birth to a baby boy, and a man with a large gash in his leg caused by an axe. We were asked to name the baby; we decided Matthew … blessing from God … would be perfect. We gave the name Zoe, Greek for life, to the child waiting to be born.
(Sorry for the side ways photos...just a mom doing her best :)


Bertilda gratefully received the many items we had brought … medications, gloves, dressings, infant clothing, and a solar/crank lantern.

After our tour we were each given a cold Sprite … what a luxury! After taking a few sips ourselves and showing great appreciation, we shared the sodas with the many wide-eyed children. We are reasonably sure they had never tasted such a thing.



People in need:

There is so much need in the north, but there were five situations that were specially brought to our attention … folks for whom Romana, Mama Laddie, and Nurse Bertilda are hoping we can find sponsorship …

1) A blind grandmother with three beautiful little boys who must beg to find food. The older two have obviously been to school before and would love to continue their education

2) A sixteen year old boy has lost family and local sponsor due to death and wants to continue his schooling in a boarding school

3) A very unusual couple … she is deaf and he is blind. They have two small children and are hoping for startup materials to sell in the ‘market’

4) A single mother with three children, who has completed beauty school under the sponsorship of an American who then disappeared, needs temporary sponsorship for her and the children until she can start up a ‘beauty salon’. The alternative to sponsorship is that Romana take her three children and find an adoptive family for them.

5) A teenage girl is deaf, can write English, and uses American Sign Language to communicate. She is bright, obviously motivated, and very eager to get back to school this week. With my minimal signing skills, we carried on quite a conversation.



Sunday/Monday: Eggs, sausage, and toast for breakfast. What a treat! We spent Sunday and Monday (a local holiday) with Nurse Debby and husband Ron. They took us to the Accra Arts and Craft Museum, the Cultural Center (an area with many stalls for buying/selling), two great restaurants, and lots of wonderful hospitality. Rachel and I want to take Debby out for lunch or dinner next week for a belated Mother’s Day … she is our ‘mother’ here in Ghana.



Hospital trips:

I have now been to the hospital/clinic several times with children. I have tagged along because I wanted to experience the process. I will never again complain about having to wait in a medical waiting room in the US. We don’t know the meaning of having to wait … and wait, etc. One of the trips was just to pick up the refill of meds for one of the HIV positive children. We were gone from BH for 3 ½ hours! The latest trip was the initial visit for three children. It took all morning and the doctor spent maybe ten minutes with us. On the way home, we dropped off Nurse Debby at her compound and I held two infants in my arms. Fortunately they both slept most of the way. Infant car seats or any other car seats are unknown here. When we arrived at BH, I had the 6 year old get out and ring the bell so someone could take one of the babies and some of the accouterments.

Tuesday 4th:

We had Hungarian Goulash at Dr. Julia’s … yummmm. Rachel really enjoys the time on the piano. Dr. J would like to host a benefit concert at her house. Rachel thinks she would embarrass herself due to lack of preparation. She doesn’t know how good she is, even at her worst.

Thursday 6th

Rachel is a young woman of great courage. She is teaching all 20+ children all morning this week; she is doing what no adult, including me, would do. The teacher is on vacation, the substitute teacher is ‘flaking of’, none of the regular volunteers will do it, so Rachel stepped up to the plate. She is doing a great job, is firm with the children, and the kids love her. In the afternoons she plays football (soccer) until she is red in the face. Yesterday she came into our room to clean up before dinner and proudly announced "the girls won a football game for the first time in Beacon House history". She is amazing!


Peace and Joy,

Judy

Our Trip North ( Some Helpful Hints)

And now, released to the public for the first time, having been awaited anxiously by numberless hapless folks who want to know what to expect when traveling to Bolgatanga, the Dailey blog proudly presents:

Rachel’s Tips for Troubled Travelers

1) Take a car. Trust me: you’ll get there faster. Not to mention cars are more maneuverable and can avoid proportionally more potholes.

2) Ladies, wear a skirt. It makes potty stops faster and allows you perform under certain (ahem) circumstances things that would be extremely difficult, not to mention embarrassing, while wearing pants.

3) Count the mosques! They are everywhere and pretty easy to spot. There’s a fairly large one in Tamale, but most of them are tiny; sometimes there will be one on either side of the road (so you don’t have to cross the street.) I counted 32 on the way down.

4) Open your eyes. The countryside is beautiful and the culture is everywhere. Don’t stay cocooned in your self-pity and boredom. Wave to the people, buy some bananas from the street vendors, engage with the world outside your windows.

5) Disregard Tip #4. There are things you don’t want to see—like streakers running across the highway and dead donkeys in the middle of the road.

6) Play chicken with oncoming traffic. This may not be exactly enjoyable, but it does get the adrenaline flowing. Another, similar game with the same effect is called “Dodge-Goats-That-Wander-Onto-the-Road-and-Then-Watch-You-Unconcernedly-As-You-Barrel-Toward-Them-Blaring-the-Horn.”

7) Remember: A rest stop is not a dog. It will not always come when nature calls. Treat them as golden opportunities.

8) Relax! Stressing and worrying won’t get you there any faster. And whiplash from oversized bumps in the road is less severe when you aren’t tensed up, waiting for them to happen (not that they aren’t inevitable). Chill out and think about something else—like the fact that you’ll be doing this all over again the day after tomorrow.

9) Don’t panic. Your competent driver is just as good at dodging flying strips of rubber from the tire that burnt out in the truck in front of you as he is at swerving around potholes. And passing three major accidents within 10 minutes of each other is no cause for alarm either; that is, as long as your driver is also smart enough not to pass when he can’t see what’s coming the other way.

10) Learn the language of the horn. Translating it can be quite entertaining! Here are a few common phrases to get you started.

~One or two short beeps: A term of politeness. Can be used as “Thank you,” or “Pardon me,” depending on the situation.

~One longer beep: A more emphatic request, such as “Excuse me, but you’re driving about 80 miles under the speed limit and I can’t see around you because your truck is so overloaded. Could you help me out here?”

~Many short beeps in rapid succession: An attention getter. Usually means “Hey! I’m passing you! Don’t run me off the road!”

~Many short beeps and long beeps used interchangeably: Used in emergencies or situations when politeness is either impossible or not required. Some examples:

-Don’t even THINK about cutting me off!

-Someone get that kid out of the street!

-Seriously, what’s the deal here? Don’t you know what right-of-way means?

Our Trip North Part 1

Before our trip up North, I told Grandma Judy that if I still could, I would choose not to go. I told her I didn’t feel like I was ready. I didn’t want to leave the comfort of Beacon House and head off into this wild, crazy unknown. I imagined that it would be one of the hardest things I’d ever done, that I wouldn’t understand, that my cultural skin would be too thick for me to really comprehend it. How can I comprehend? I can’t even speak these peoples’ language. I imagined that I would be uncomfortable and awkward, not knowing what to do with myself.

And I was right. Only after you have really done it can you understand how hard it really is. How utterly exhausting it is. And only after I have done it can I realize what a mistake it would have been to stay home.

It takes a lot to get a human to change. We are always scrabbling for our comfort like rats, hoarding every scrap of luxury, pressing our faces into our pillows. God sometimes has to use a veritable cattle prod to get us out of bed and on our feet. In this respect, He is almost ruthless. He refuses to let us settle in. He convicts us with His Word, holds us to His standards, and demands uncompromising obedience. If you make the mistake of giving Him this obedience, He will disrupt and destroy and dismantle your life. He’ll send you 11 siblings and move you across the country 8 times and send you to Africa and then ask “Now what?”

The first thing we did on Friday was go to Mama Laadi’s foster home. When we drove up, the children’s faces lit up and they started jumping and smiling and shouting and running alongside the car. We climbed out and I had about 20 little hands reaching for me and pulling on my skirt and stealing around my waist. They looked at my photo album and kept saying “black and white?” in awed voices. Everyone wanted to know my name and wanted me to know their name. I can only recall three or four of the myriads I heard. But I know they remembered mine. At the end of the day we visited one last time to drop off a suitcase for one of the house mothers. As we got into the car, all the kids started waving and shouting, “Good bye Rasheel!” I rolled down the window and waved until we were out of sight.

And God said, “Now what?”

I got to see the village of Vea, where my sister was born and lived for 8 years. It was beautiful. On our drive in, we passed the irrigated fields where they grow rice and have their fish ponds. Then we drove through a low-lying area and Pastor John (he lives in Vea and was our guide for the day) said that in the rainy season you have to use a canoe to get through to the village. We walked to the church and the school and the community center and met the village chief. There were a few old men sitting there, and afterwards one of them shook my hand and said something in Fra-fra. Pastor John laughed and translated: “Next year when you come, you will have a husband!” Then we all laughed too. I thought about saying I was only 16, but I figured that wouldn’t be of much import here. I met my sister’s grandmother and showed her videos of Lydia and gave her our family photo album. Everyone was pointing at the pictures and talking in Fra-fra. Once I looked behind me and it seemed like the whole village had gathered just to look at the photos. The women also brought out these beautiful hand-woven baskets that they had made. I think Grandma Judy bought almost 10 of them. I hugged Lydia’s grandmother twice before we left; she was sweet and kind and said so many things I wish I had understood. We all trooped back to our air conditioned car.

And God said, “Now what?”

We drove to the Presbyterian Clinic to deliver some of our donated things and take photos of some families needing sponsorship to send their children to school. The Clinic was way out in the boonies; we actually got lost trying to get there and didn’t arrive until after 1:00 in the afternoon. The families had been sitting on a bench, waiting for us since early that morning. We walked into this clinic with no running water and no electricity, filed past a mother with her one hour old baby boy lying on a cot, then out to the porch where two other women were sitting on the verge of having their babies, and finally into a room where a man had just finished having his leg stitched up after accidentally slicing it with an axe. Then we headed outside and took pictures of a blind grandmother with her three grandsons, a 16-year-old who became an orphan for the second time last December, and a blind man with his deaf wife and their two small children. And then we sat down in the shade and let these people serve us bottles of cold Sprite.

And God said, “Now what?”

Now what? What will I do after my brain stops reeling and my body recovers from everything that has happened on this trip? Will it matter? Will it be a turning point, the ray of light that woke me up and got me moving? Or will I run back to my comfortable life and refuse to grow? Will I be too afraid to take the next step? Because there is always one more step. The journey won’t ever end on earth. We will never reach a point where God says, “All right, you’ve done enough. Now sit back, relax, and don’t change anymore for the rest of your life.” He’ll always be calling us to climb one more mountain, cross one more ocean, run one more mile. I don’t want to believe it, but it is going to get harder. The road to the kind of life God loves is deeper and darker and tougher than any other road. But it’s the road I’ve started on. And I may have failed in almost every other way, but so far I haven’t been a quitter, and I don’t plan on being one now.

Okay God. Now what?