life teachers

Many people have asked me (still ask me) why I wanted to spend a year away in rural Ghana.  I've answered this question numerous times with a semi-scripted response that bubbles out from repetition, but I always knew that I didn't quite know all the reasons why I was going, why I'm here.  With my penchant for anything to further personal/mental/spiritual growth, I knew I was setting up conditions to learn.  Only now do I see the reasons why I am here are constantly unfolding.  Every month, week, day, I realise something new and continue to recognise different situations as gifts of learning.  I don't necessarily believe or quite understand the concept of traditional predestination (as every event being fated), but I am truly beginning to see glimpses of the way things work.  I'm starting to see how my time here has been separated into chapters, every chapter preparing me for subsequent ones.

I had an idea of what my time here was going to look like conceptually: a few months alone, some travel time meeting other travelers, a few visitors, three months with one of the founder of HCC's sisters, some more travel, and the last few months with four volunteer program groups coming in and out.  I laid things out in this way to gather some understanding of my time here and ameliorate some of the fear I had.  My mental calendar didn't have anything to do with the programs I was going to run or the projects I was going to start, but instead the people I was going to encounter.  My fear wasn't around being unable to accomplish meaningful projects, I was afraid of being alone.  I was afraid of what my mind would do when I was alone.  The few months of solitude, travel time, and having guests in the house, all prepared me perfectly for this three month chapter I'm currently writing.  See, this roommate I recently acquired (founder's sister), is not just an ordinary roommate--she is one of the most important teachers I've ever been blessed to be a pupil of.

Before Andrea moved in, I was somewhat anxious to have a roommate for three months that I had never met or spoken to before.  I knew I would adjust, but I understood that our relationship would deeply change my daily life.  When you are living in a small town in the bush, as you can imagine, your days are not filled with busy structured work hours followed by sundry evening activities that leave only moments with your roommates.  There are only so many places to go, so many things to do, and so many windows of time to meet with the children.  I knew my life would be intertwined with this person for better or worse.  When Andrea arrived, I could tell straightaway that there was something very special about her.  She emanated a deep sense of genuine peace which manifested in the way she spoke about people, spoke about herself, moved through the day, and even in how she ate her food.  None of it seemed affected or contrived, but easy and natural.  My curiosity moved me to inquire and she slowly answered my questions about her mindfulness practice and approach to life.  She has generously and warmly sat with me and guided me through a learning process that is based on creating conditions for self-discovery rather than pedantic instructor-inflating lecturing.  This approach has fostered the start of real learning and real transformation.  She has helped to connect this practice to my faith, my fears, my relationships, and every other issue I bring up.  God is using this teacher to ground me in the perfect method, knowing absolutely that nothing else would work.  I have been prepared through various experiences in my journey here and from my beginning to receive the lessons I'm learning now, and these lessons are preparing me for what's ahead.  I am learning that things are as they are and I can move through life with more peace knowing that.  I don't know if I will ever be able to fully express how grateful I am to this beautiful teacher (/friend I can laugh for hours with) and to God for placing her in my life at this moment so perfectly, but I only hope I can continue to be a diligent student.

Thank you dear friends for continuing to follow my journey!

Love from Sandema,
Tippy

How are you? No, really.

The bouquet of aromas wafting off of my perfected tk-touch stew fills my kitchen as I mindlessly stir with an audiobook keeping me company.  Completely caught off guard, I shrieked as I saw a face in the doorway of my living room, which was received by a chorus of giggles.  Joshua, Nathaniel, and Francis had paid me a visit to see if I was feeling better.  They apparently walked right through the unlocked front door after I had not heard their knocks and “tippy!” shouts.  After hugs, I told them to NEVER do that again.  “Always wait for someone to answer the door regardless of if it is unlocked!”  They continued to giggle and hesitantly nodded with some comprehension.

I’ve been sick for the past few days, riddled with aches and fatigue.  The luxury of being able to guiltlessly lie in bed with nowhere to be and nothing on the agenda but recuperation, strikes me as I realize I haven’t left the house in two full days.  Even being sick is better out here.  I know that if I was truly hit with some debilitating illness, I could send one text message and people would be at my door with medicine, food, and kindness.  Though at home I know I could count on my roommates to pick me up some soup on their way home, I would also be aware that their own busy lives consume them and asking them to help would be asking them to go out of their way.   As I write this, I got a knock on the door and opened it to find that the two youngest boys (Richard age 7ish and Michael age 6ish) had pushed Yaw in his wheel chair from the centre, up the bumpy dirt road, all the way to my house.  They stopped by for a mere five minute visit just to check how I was doing, and then made the arduous journey back under the HOT hot sun at the peak of daylight.  They were my third set of well-wishing visitors of the day.  Though having unexpected company can get a bit tiresome at times (ok, as I just welcomed my fourth visitor while writing this post...a lot tiresome at times), the community aspect of this beautiful culture overwhelms me with warmth and love.  As I mentioned in my first post, even the practice of sitting side-by-side in silence reflects the togetherness that is so rich here.  Now that I have learned how to set boundaries and have informed my beloved family here that I require alone time and privacy at home, I have been able to fully appreciate the beauty of fellowship.  

People genuinely care for one another and will go far out of their way to help someone who needs it.  It seems that their honor and integrity is at stake and they will do nothing short of bend over backwards to accommodate even a stranger.  I was struck by this first when in Accra with BB.  Not unlike many major cities I have traveled to, we were bombarded by dudes wanting our hands in marriage and peddlers pushing just about anything in our “white” faces for about three times the fair price.  The way that these folks did differ was that they were extremely generous and helpful once put on the spot.  BB would yell, “No, I will not marry you, but why don’t you make yourself useful and tell us where the OA bus station is.”  Without missing a beat, the boy-man would point us in the right direction and would ceaselessly explain how to get there until we would nod with understanding.  One man, who started out hitting on us, ended up changing his tune once he found out we were lost and gently walked us all the way to our location and hit the road after we gushed our gratitude.  The people here take their title of “West Africa’s Friendliest Country” VERY seriously.  Sure, there are baddies here just like everywhere else in the world, but there is this apparent sense of pride in an individual’s goodwill.  I have experienced thoughtfulness and compassion from people I have only known one short month in ways that are rare at home.  At first, I was confused by these phone calls I received from people I had met in Accra or boys who had shipped off to school, that simply had one purpose: to see how I was doing.  At home, we rarely pick up the phone to call someone, and if we do, we make a big event out of it.  Phone calls become phone dates that require precious blocked off hours in our busy schedules.  If we see our phone unexpectedly ringing, we assume something life-changing has happened that prompted such an extraordinary action like speaking voice-to-voice over our texting/internet machines.  We are even annoyed when we receive a phone call that’s purpose could have been communicated through a text message.  But here, this is not the case.  People will use their precious purchased credit to pick up the phone and ask how you are doing.  They have been wondering about your adjustment and wanted to make sure you are fine.  TALK ABOUT CULTURE SHOCK!  People I spent maybe a few hours with were thinking about me and genuinely care about my well-being, something that is not awarded at home to anyone outside of our dear friends and family.  This sense of consideration emanates through every interaction, down to greeting every person you pass with the time-appropriate phrase.  Though there is a script of greetings with learned responses, if you met “how are you” with an actual reporting of how you are in fact not doing so well, you would not be looked at with awkward annoyance, but genuine compassion (then followed up with phone calls and visits until you assure you are feeling good again).  Actions of thoughtfulness are not done expecting any sort of congratulations of being a top-notch friend or even reciprocation.  I reflect honestly and realize that I’m even guilty of this kind of kindness from time to time.  I know that if I go out on a limb for this person during their time of need, they will certainly do the same for me or at least feel guilty if they are unable to do so.  That confession sits like hot rocks in my stomach.  All this not to discount the beautiful and rich friendships I am beyond blessed to have at home and the endless and unconditional love of my family, but to explain the difference of the responsibility people feel they have here towards what we would call strangers or acquaintances.  The benevolence you receive here is not earned with time or shared experience, but granted right away.  I haven't had the ability to test these relationships with time, but I hope there is depth beyond this friendliness where true friendship (as we know it) can blossom.

As I thought I’d surely be wrought with loneliness while “alone” in this foreign country, aside from one or two days in the beginning, I haven’t really had room for its full glory.  I’m most certainly not ruling out its future visits, but as of now, loneliness is somewhere else, haunting some other poor soul.  My family of personality-filled boys and the couple solid friends I have made are making sure I am feeling loved and cared for.  Did I not come here so I could care for these boys?!  How turned around this has become.  As much as I knew I would never be alone with my expert-level friend-making skills, I sincerely believe even the most socially challenged person couldn’t and wouldn’t be all alone here.   I am able to have all the solitary time I need while knowing friendship and conversation are one quick walk or phone call away--the best of both worlds.

A slumber party turned goof session under the baobab tree and stars during a blackout

pretending to sleep

Thank you for your prayers and good energy towards ensuring I find community here, as I know that's what is coming to fruition here.

Love from Sandema,

Tippy

Bankou and Stew for Two: Friendship and Food

Part of any big move is adjusting to losing your community and building yourself a new one.  As I'm blessed to be surrounded by loving friends and family at home, I have been impatient with myself and want the whole friendship-network building thing to happen apace.  Being the only foreigner in my small town right now, it's easy to resign to loneliness at times.  Despite that, I've been trying hard to meet people and build connections with those around me.  The folks in my town are amiable and have a real playfulness about them.  I've been meeting people left and right, but my schedule of working from home during the day and hangin' with my little dudes at night, hasn't allowed me to to organically take the quick introductions to friendship level.

Last week, Joe and I traveled to Bolgatanga, the town where our mailbox is (puts things in perspective, huh ;)), which is about 45 minutes to two hours away depending on how much the bus wants to stop.  On the way we took a trotro, which are vans (usually rickety) that work like a private bus system.  You're usually sitting on half a seat with someone's arm in your face, but they can be a shorter ride than the Metro Mass Transit buses because they stop less, but more importantly because the drivers are reckless and launch off potholes and go much faster than you think any rusty tin can on wheels should.  When we got to Bolga, I got my first glimpse of other foreigners in the area!  THEY EXIST!  I peeped about a handful and vowed that when I start coming to the town alone, I will ardently hunt them down and force friendship upon them.  Though my main focus is to make friends with the people in Sandema, I think it's important to have at least a few ex-pat connections to ease the feeling of "doing this alone".  Only a foreigner truly understands what another foreigner is going through.  After a lovely day of exploring this mini city, we got on the bus to head home.  For the way back, we decided to take the MMT bus so I could experience the different options.  The bus is pretty nice, but there is obviously no AC and it gets packed to the brim.  As folks were piling in, a lot of the men who were sitting, gave up their seats to the women who were standing (chivalry ain't dead in a culture where women stay in the kitchen! ...wait).  Joe gave up his seat to a young lady which ended up being a great move in the my chess game of life.  The woman's name is Veronica and she's a 27 year old nurse at the Sandema hospital but is originally from the mailbox town.  The bus ride ended up taking a solid two hours, which allowed for some quality getting-to-know-you time, albeit sweaty and uncomfortable getting-to-know-you time.  Vero and I really hit it off and decided to meet up soon.  When we got together, she told me a bit about her life and it turns out she's quite the foreigner magnet.  The year before nursing school, she worked at an orphanage with some German volunteers.  She built great friendships and somewhat understands what the volunteer experience is all about and knows how to deal with us non-Ghanaian folk (when to look out for people cheating us, cultural considerations for how not to offend, and the reality that most volunteers (though they are "white"--I'm white here) are actually pretty broke).  She's extremely generous, thoughtful, and has this sassy sense of humor that you can't help but be taken by.

This past Thursday, Vero came over to teach me how to make bankou and okra stew.  Before I get into that, let me tell you a bit about the food here.  Generally, the flavors remind me of Korean food as the stews and soups are robust and quite spicy.  I really enjoy all the stews, but my only complaint is that they are heavily oil-based so can make you feel a bit like a 300-pound pizza-face post-meal (mmmm, pizza...........sushi...bagels...).  Now, what is eaten with the stews and soups is something to get used to.  BB calls this the "globular food group," which is the perfect description.  Bankou, foufou, and tizzet are some of the different types of globs with flavor and texture variations.  Bankou and foufou are similar in texture, a mix between bread dough and mashed potatoes.  Bankou tastes kind of like sourdough bread or Ethiopian injera and foufou is blander and potatoey.  Tizzet is more flavorless like foufou, but it has the texture of firm tofu made of porridge.  The object is to take a small piece of glob (ALWAYS WITH YOUR RIGHT HAND), make a little indent in it, and pick up the stew or soup.  Excuse me, but have you EVER tried to eat soup with your hand?!  I would think it impossible if I didn't see all the boys at the centre plow through their soups using their globs.  Needless to say, I fail at this and the resulting mess is greater than what I actually get into my mouth.  I've been more shameless in asking for a spoon when I eat at the centre so I can actually enjoy Madam Judith's cooking.

So, Vero set out to teach me how to make bankou and stew, and I have to say the result was tasteriffic!  

Vero mixing the flours and water for the bankou

As it heats up, it gets super paste-like and very difficult to stir

So I finally surrender to the notion that there are veggies I don't really like, and okra is on the list.  Though the stew was incredible in taste, I can't get over the slimy phlegminess of okra.

putting the cooked bankou into plastic bags for setting

The stew is finished!

how it's served

sweaty from the hot kitchen and ready to dig in!

Vero and I enjoyed our evening so much that we decided to make meal-making a weekly affair!  I can't wait until she teaches me fish and egg stew with yam (non-glob but used the same way), my favorite thing I've had here so far.  I'm so grateful for this new friendship and I hope to make many more meaningful connections with my fellow town dwellers.

Thank you home friend/family network for supporting me, loving me, and following on my adventure.  You have no idea how much I appreciate all of you that have been a part of sending me here with funds, words, and love.  I miss you all so much!  I wish I could get a good squeeze from home :)

Love from Sandema,
Tippy