The topic for reflection in church on Sunday was “One Year in Ghana”. Well, that was my topic; I’m never sure what everyone else is working on. But Saturday did mark the one year point for me in Ghana. Hard to believe.
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Porch Conversations
One night I woke and heard angry voices. I could tell that it was Esther and Francis “senior”, her husband. I heard neighbors calling, too, but sensed that it was probably best to stay inside and see if it died down. It did. There was lots of chatter the next day between her and neighbors.
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Questions in the Dark
Near the equator, the crescent moon hangs in the sky like a faceless smile or a delicate bowl. I sit on my porch and can see its light through nail holes in the roofing sheets, and watch as it dips beneath the roof line and comes into view, and listen to the sounds of the night.
I sit and think about a question that’s been on my mind.
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Senegal, Part 2
The next day is full of introductions and power point presentations. In addtion to us, attendees included volunteers and staff from Benin, Guinea, and Togo.
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What I Did On My Summer Vacation
Our flights to Senegal were long and tiring. And left three days earlier than they had to. They waited until the last minute to buy tickets, and that’s how we flew across Africa and back for a small paid vacation in Senegal.
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Freedom at the House of Slaves
Gorée Island is just off the coast of Dakar, the capital city of Senegal. It’s most well known for Maison des esclaves (House of Slaves), where slaves were held before transport.
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Odds ‘n Ends
I’m on the road for a bit here, and thought I’d just write about the various things I’ve been doing…odds and ends.
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Just a Girl
The neighborhood is surprisingly noisy. If it’s not people calling out greetings to each other or yelling at kids, it’s sheep and goats baaing or roosters crowing or guinea fowl chattering. I’ve gotten used to it.
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My Little Monster
One of the most enjoyable parts of this experience is the kids. They make me feel like a bit of a celebrity while I walk through town, calling out my name, sometimes running over to shake hands or high-five.
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Don’t Call it Death
Sitting in church for three hours every Sunday, not understanding the language and just letting my mind free-associate may not be the kind of spiritual experience the church leaders want me to have…but it works for me.
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