Sunday Showers

What a glorious Sunday. I’m eating a fresh mango- succulent! And am listening to thunder outside my window… do I dare hope for rain? You can imagine the euphoria I felt when my eyelids flew open at the sound of poor Bob’s hacking early this morning and felt… what was that? A…a cool breeze blowing through my room!??!?! IT’S  A MIRACLE!!!!

Bob made me French toast this morning out of that amazing bread I discovered yesterday, and it was excellent. We don’t have syrup, so we use dark honey, which is good and good for you. Dr. Young has used that several times on wounds or drinkable concoctions to make people better. She would, right? There are tons of natural antibiotics and enzymes in dark honey, and she said the only downfall to using it is the throng of ants it brings in. She said one time they nearly carried one of her patients away.

I went back to Pastor Jonah’s church just so I could hear him preach, however that meant sitting through another worship service, and I just have to tell you, is awful. I realize I sound like a horrible cynic, which is not intentional because the people are wonderful, it’s just that they can’t sing. Like at all. Pitch is what they put on their roofs apparently (or is that thatch??). There is one guy, who led this Sunday, and 4 girls who sway perfectly in the background. They’ve got that down- I’ll give them that.  

I have kindly enclosed a “how to” manual for being on the worship team at this Ghanaian church:

 You pick up microphones (which you don’t need as the building is so small) and hand them out and then you pick a note, any note… even ones that are between real notes and start singing. Everybody follows you and joins in as loud as they can one whatever note they think is most suitable. The drummer, the bass guitarist and the keyboardist follow suit. As the drummer, you hit as many drums as you want, whenever you want as loud as you want. As the keyboardist, you picked some chords you like and play them. Sometimes, if want to be real wild, you can even pick the right ones. And as the bass guitarist, you’re job is to follow. But when you realize there are about 11 different things you could follow, you just follow the trend and start making up your own song too. It’s loads of fun. A buffet of notes!

OK ok. I’m sorry. I’ll take the cynicism down a notch. I can’t help. Bob, who has no pitch, can’t stand going their either! I will say that they did manage to defy the law of entropy and made order from disorder for the offertory, and it was really good! The musicians are quite good when they aren’t trying to follow the “vocalists.” If they had a suggestion box, I would suggest that they instruments start and THEN have people start singing. Just a thought.

Ghanaian music has a great beat and the whole country moves to the same rhythm. It’s really a beautiful thing. That’s why these little musical nuggets were so surprising to me. I thought I would be walking into another Fiji where everyone you are born with the ability to sing. From what I understand, they are young and are learning… respectable.

The enticing thing about this church is that they start early and get done early so that you can get out in time before melting temperatures arise. It’s like a “would you rather” game question: Would you rather… have your entire audio sensatory system be bull-dozed or would you rather sweat to death in the African sun?? I think we’re all aware of my stance on temperature, and I just might pick the first… if it really game down to it. HOWEVER, I hear the Catholics get out by 9 am here, and I just might get my Carroll College on and swing on over to Mary’s!  

I took a little nap after church in the wrong position, which is always fun. Really- who needs a neck with a full range of motion? After lunch, I harnessed Gail and cleaned and organize my room- this is where I live now after all. I put Bounce sheets in my closet for the fragrance (they also keep mosquitoes away- thank you Sapps:) and set up a little desk on the table in there with a bouquet of these really cool paper tulips- I love tulips- that my mom gave me before I left and arranged some notes and memory books people gave me for my trip. I don’t mean to brag, but word is on the street that TLC needs a new decorator and is calling to hire. Unfortunately, I just don’t think I can commit right now though. Darn.

I started a book this afternoon called “Where Have All the Mother’s Gone?” given to me by the great Dr. Steve Nickisch. It’s a collection of “stories of courage and hope during childbirth among the world’s poorest women.” SO GOOD. Nix, if you are reading, thank you again. I absolutely love it, and I’m so glad I am reading it here because the world describe in these stories is the world I live in now.

Whoa, whoa whoa. I just realized something… I sat around on a Sunday afternoon and read. FOR FUN! Stop traffic! Reason #9983875490832 this year off was the coolest idea EVER!!

Dr. Jean invited me for a walk as things were not as hot today. This was a delightful idea. Challenge- walk through Saboba and don’t smile. I’m telling you, it can’t be done. You can’t sneeze with your eyes open and you can’t walk through Saboba without smiling. It’s the best. We walked to see a few of the Young’s friends and the first stop was a local Pastor with SUPER cute grandkids who greeted us at the road and wanted to shake my hand. I wanted to be flattered by this, but it has nothing to do with Nikki Mills and everything to do with that I am WHITE.  But you’re dead wrong if you think I didn’t soak that up! I have said this a million times, but the hospitality here is second to none. They are all so kind and glad that I am here. We walked to house #2 and the same kids followed us and wanted to hold my hands, all six of them, and it was quite comical. Feeling bad I did not have six hands, I decided that we should race. Only one spoke English but I think “ready, set. GO!!” and the motion of jolting into a sprint is a pretty universal sign for a good time if you’re a kid. Their laughing made me laugh so hard. These kids have the most beautiful smiles. I felt young again;)

We reached the entrance to the compound (group of round huts) and I could not believe my eyes. There in the front of the compound was a GINORMOUS baobab tree that had blown over and fallen partially into their courtyard! FYI- no one was hurt. It was absolutely massive, and I was baffled as to how something so massive could fall over. I began looking at the roots, some of which never came out of the ground. They don’t go down. They go out.

Coachable moment: When your roots are shallow, no matter how big and tall and massive you are, you will get blown over when strong winds blow.

Visit #3: My new friend Joshua. I bring him up because you have seen him in a thousand movies. He’s the big fat black guy who is usually casted  as a football player or some big fish in the music industry. He wears fur coats and gold watches and is fat because his slim and gorgeous entourage of women keeps bringing him food. You know that guy, and I met him tonight… minus the gold bling, fur coats, and entourage of women of course. He had that kind of clout though and was awesome. He gave me my first Guinness malt beverage and we got wasted.

JOKING- chill Mom and Dad. It was non-alcoholic and not very tasty. Liquid barley. No thank you. Good time though.

Visit #4: Pastor Yeboah’s house. The entire interior is lime green. For real. I was wondering if they were going to put the place up for sale… possibly?? This guy, like most guys here, has such a great laugh. Deep, jolly and hearty. It had gotten dark by now and Pastor Yeboah walked us out to the road just in case there were snakes….

“SNAKES?!” I said as I stopped dead in my tracks. “Whoa whoa WHOA, buddy. If there are snakes, you are going to have to peel white girl off the clouds because I do NOT do snakes.” That made him laugh so hard, which again, made me laugh so hard that I almost forgot how scared I was. I really hate being scared. It’s really unbecoming for my image.

When we came back to the house, we decided to compensate for this morning’s pitch fest and sang some songs and busted out the old song books and hymnals. Hey, the new roomies are in their sixties, and It was fantastic. Jean’s  voice is perfect for that type of music. I’m not the world’s great vocalist, but I can keep the melody while Jean harmonizes. It was so fun. I miss that about home. I think we are going to make it a nightly ritual.

The thunder is getting louder, and I am fully ready to take on my first African storm, and now that I say that, it will bypass Saboba…

I hope you are doing well and had a blessed Sunday. Tomorrow is the international day of LOVE. Please know that I am sending all of mine to you. Aunt Ronda- the box of Valentine’s Day chocolates you sent will be consumed tomorrow, and I already can’t wait.

Until then, Ghana girl signing out.