Typical Conversation

When I reached home after walking from the office last week, I was delighted to realize that only two or three times did I have to tell someone that I didn’t understand him or her. God helped me to parry all the other conversational gambits that came my way. =D

Here is a sampling of the kind of conversation I carry on throughout the streets of the city…if someone wants to get more involved (ask me to get him a gift; ask me to take him back to America with me; ask me to give him my contact information – I never give more than an email address!), he has to revert to English.

Me: Good afternoon!
Man: OK! How is it where you came from?
Me: OK.
Man: How did you sleep?
Me: I slept well.
Man: Where have you come from?
Me: I’ve come from my work.
Man: How was your work?
Me: It was fine.
Man: Where are you going?
Me: I’m going to such-and-such a neighborhood.
Man: To such-and-such a neighborhood! Oh, that is far: why don’t you take a taxi?
Me: Exercise! [The one word I say in English: so far everyone has understood]
Man: Oh, OK. Will you come again?
Me: I will go and come.
Man: God keep you safe on your journey.
Me: Amen! God will grant us another day (their way of saying “good night”).
Man: Amen!
Both of us: Bye-bye!

Women don’t usually interact with me as extensively as the men, although they can be every bit as amused to hear their language on my lips. Often I’m greeting a group of men, and several of them will call out comments at the same time; then I pick which questions I answer based on what I recognize (which does help to cut down the number of times I have to say “I don’t understand”).

It is a lot of work (for me) to learn the language, but amazingly rewarding as I see the joy it brings to people’s faces. How I wish you could invisibly accompany me and observe me interacting with all my new friends. =)

Questions and Answers – 5

“What’s the most memorable marriage proposal you’ve received?”

A traditional cultural dance troupe came to my workplace to perform a few of their routines. Afterward, one of the drummers (#1) invited me over to bong on his drum a bit. Then he called a friend over (#2) and before I knew it the three of us were the center of everyone’s attention…and there were probably at least 20 people standing around, including dancers, drummers, and fellow staff!

#2 began to speak rapidly in the local language. “I don’t understand,” I protested in the tribal tongue – technically true since I didn’t know the words, though I could tell very well where the speech was headed. “I don’t understand.” “Do you love me?” #1 interposed in English. “Will you marry him?” #2 chimed in. “He is a good boy.”

I was highly embarrassed for poor #1, and in front of all those watching eyes shared that I wasn’t ready to get married that day but would be glad to be his friend. The poor guy looked so sad the rest of the time, and I’ve determined that next time there’s such a public offer, I’ll just say that I’m already in love [with a Lord Who would NOT want me to marry a Muslim =D].

As long as we’re on this subject, here is an email I got at a special account I’ve set up for all the Africans I meet who ask for my contact information. I’ve changed my "friend’s" name, but the rest is exactly as he wrote it. (He means “the other day” where he writes “there other they.”) This particular writer has a wide smile and is probably just about 18.

Hi my dear friend how are u and how is work? my dear friend it me your friend Mwadana the one who make friendship with you there other they you were from work at the road . please my dear i miss you so much can you let me see you again please i want to see you. but i was very happy about you how you were talking the language i will also like to teach you more about the language. Leah i miss you so much if you can also give me your phone number take care Leah and keep yourself from dangers hope to hear from you soon good day

Finally, a friend’s comment in a recent message on the beauty saloon made me realize that my “unusual evangelism opportunity” was NOT my first invitation to go on a date since arriving. Just a few days before, a man had joined me and kept pace for half a block or so, then said he was going to stop for a beer, and would I like to join him?

Life in Africa is never dull.

The Side Ministry

Neither Africa nor America is perfect when it comes to social values. Polygamy is widespread in Ghana, but divorce is rampant in the States. Social workers can be too intrusive in America, but Ghanaian children are often subject to cruel canings that leave them badly bruised.

My little Christian friend “Atessa” – the schoolgirl whose taxi fare I paid – visited me at the house soon after we’d met. At first she answered my gentle getting-to-know-you questions briefly, but suddenly the words came pouring forth and she talked for several minutes without interruption!

Atessa is a half-orphan who lives with her uncle and aunt and has not seen her mother in four years, nor met the three half-siblings who have been born since she came north. Of course, I am being told only Atessa’s part of the story, but she says the aunt wishes Atessa were gone so the aunt’s own family members could stay in the home in Atessa’s place. Because the aunt resents Atessa’s presence in the house, she often beats the girl harshly for small infractions. “Sometimes my heart is filled with so much bitterness,” Atessa confessed quietly.

As we continued talking, Atessa also revealed that she struggles with her math, and her uncle refuses to hire a tutor to help her understand the bane of her existence: percentages!

The next day God prepared the way for me to serve her in two ways. We first discussed forgiveness and bitterness, and I was able to share Scriptures with her, encourage her to hold on to God’s goodness in the midst of difficult circumstances, and pray aloud for her. Then we opened her math book and worked through problems, and I gave her different methods and tips for avoiding errors until she felt confident that she understood the concepts.

Earlier this week, Atessa and I again shared a taxi. “Did you work on some more problems?” I asked eagerly. She grinned broadly in answer, for she now grasps percentages.

May the lessons on percentages open her heart to the lessons on bitterness. Atessa has so much potential, and I’d love to see her become a whole-hearted woman of God…one who has truly given her Shepherd full control of her life. =)

Talking of Foreign Language

One of my friends warned me about learning the local tribal tongue from Abba. After all, Abba is from the south, and might be teaching me the language with a slight accent, which in turn might clue people in to the fact that I’m not a local.

In a Land of Many Languages

The insect was a pretty persistent critter and kept landing on and climbing my arm, no matter how often I blew it away.

There was a tickling sensation on my arm; I looked down and saw my little friend, trying to scale me AGAIN. “Stop it!” I exclaimed this time as I brushed it off.

What do you know, the bug understood English.

“I have many people in this city”

One of the little side ministries I’ve discovered God’s giving me is that of encouraging some of the Christians who comprise a minority in this region. It’s been delightful to see how He has put us in each other’s paths.

“…I give You full control! Wherever You may lead, I will follow…” I thrilled to hear the schoolgirl ahead of me sing the words, and quickened my pace to catch up with her and join in the singing. She smiled at me as she continued to sing un-self-consciously, and we ended up in the same taxi.

The next morning, there she was as soon as I stepped out of the house: we smiled in recognition and again took the same taxi. “You sit up front,” she urged, but I joined her in the back and made introductions. “Where do you go to church?” I asked, and she told me. “Will you come with me one Sunday?” she asked. “I might,” I smiled, then felt prompted to bless this young sister in the Lord. “To celebrate the fact that we have just met each other,” I said, “I’ll pay your taxi fare this morning, OK? Driver, I’m paying for my friend here,” and he nodded in the rear-view mirror.

We stopped for another passenger: this was the third time I’d shared a taxi with the young woman who slipped in beside me, and I knew she worked in my district. “We keep seeing each other: I’m Leah,” I introduced myself. She smiled and introduced herself in turn. “It’s a Christian name,” I exclaimed. “Are you a Christian?” She nodded. “Me too!”

When we reached our destination and got out together, imagine my surprise to discover that she paid the driver for both our fares! What a cool testimony to the driver of the love Christians have for one another.

Recently I discovered that one of my friends-that-I’ve-made-on-my-walk is a Christian: she was delighted to find out that I serve the same Lord she does, and is careful to make sure we visit each time I pass.

It is a joy to befriend Christian and Muslim alike as I wend my way through town. Please pray that God will use these personal contacts to bear much fruit to His glory!

Subterfuge and Friendship

“I need you to come to the district license office with me for a driver’s license,” my fellow staff member and trusted friend “Abba” said. Well, Pastor Tirumbu had hinted that he wanted me to get a license sometime during my stay, so I guessed that now was the time.

Only it turned out that it wasn’t for MY driver’s license: it was in regards to a license for another missionary who also had dark hair, and who wouldn’t be back in the region before the document expired.

Abba later explained that if I’d not been there to stand in as a cardboard-cutout obruni, he would still have gotten the renewal: he would just have had to pay twice as much. So it was either trickery or bribery, and at least the former was cheaper. Abba did all the talking while I stood by trying to look as white as possible. They did ask my age at the conclusion, and I gave my own, amazed that they didn’t cross-check against the birthdate in the documents! Had they done so, they’d have found that the woman in question was nearly twice my age.

“That was possibly one of the most deceptive things I’ve ever done,” I informed Abba afterward. “Next time can we do something completely honest?”

On a happier note, we continued on into town so another friend could run an errand, and when she got back in the van, she asked me whether I walk along that street. I acknowledged that I do on my way home, and she told me that she’d overheard the street vendors saying to one another, “Oh, look, there’s our white friend in that vehicle.” =)

And on a final earnest note, one of my friends-that-I’ve-made-on-my-walk is a devout Muslim woman…who has said she’ll come to church with me this Sunday! Please pray for her, for our friendship, and for the many other friendships I’m making throughout the town.

Thanks for praying!

Unusual Evangelism Opportunity – Part 2

We had scarcely settled ourselves when Dash returned, bringing a friend (“Scruffy”) with him. And wouldn’t you know it, Dash knew “Jawad,” my friend the taxi driver! Suddenly the evening relaxed into pleasantness and camaraderie.

As our visit progressed, it became evident to me that although Scruffy had been introduced as a Christian, only Dash and I are true believers. Scruffy reads the Bible every day, but won’t go to church because people talk about his long hair (“If you come to my church, I won’t talk about your hair,” I promised, deciding against asking “So why don’t you cut it?”), and when I asked Jawad where he goes to church, he admitted he doesn’t regularly attend anywhere. “But now that you are in my life, I’ll start going!” “Please don’t,” I said severely. “That is NOT a good reason. The best reason to attend church is to obey and worship God.”

Dash ended up spending much of the evening chatting separately with my housemate, leaving me to entertain the other two. Interestingly, they guided much of our visit toward discussing spiritual topics, reading Scripture, etc. Near the end of the visit, Jawad suddenly exclaimed, “I love the way you talk about God! You make Him seem so real and so good!” “I was just thinking the same thing,” Scruffy echoed. “He IS real, and He IS good,” I exulted. “And don’t think I say this just because I have a loving family, or because I’m an American. I’ve lost beloved friends and family members to death; I was born into poverty, and know what it’s like to be poor; I’ve had a debilitating disease; I’ve survived two car accidents; and much more. God has allowed so many hardships in my life, and through them all He has been faithful. So believe me when I say I KNOW that God is real and God is good!”

One of my favorite aspects of witnessing to unbelievers is that praising my wonderful God to them reminds me how marvelous He is, and reignites my passion for Him. Please pray that my love for and joy in Christ would be so contagious that Scruffy and Jawad would want to make Him their own! If God is calling them and they want to sincerely seek Him, I’m well aware of the fact that I’m NOT the person to direct them further: so please pray that God will give me great discernment if I interact with them in the future.

And for future reference – if anything like this ever happens again, I am going to invite people to visit me at my OFFICE, not my house. I didn’t have time to think of this simple solution earlier, but it will be much wiser all around!

Unusual Evangelism Opportunity – Part 1

“Do you remember me?” the taxi driver asked as I slipped into the passenger seat, and I had to admit that no, I didn’t: there are so many, many taxi drivers (although I’m beginning to recognize a few). Well, he was evidently determined to make sure that I wouldn’t forget him again, because he drove me straight to my destination, not stopping at any of the intervening taxi stops or to pick up any other passengers en route, and he wouldn’t accept payment once we arrived!

Two days later I was walking through town, when a car honked and stopped – right in the middle of the road! – and sure enough, there was my friend the taxi driver. “Get in and I’ll drive you,” he urged, but I assured him I wanted to walk. “When will I next see you?” he pressed. “Can I take you out to a restaurant tonight so that we can eat and talk?” Traffic was backing up impatiently behind his taxi, and I had to think fast: he already knew where I worked and where I lived, and I wasn’t alone at the house, so: “I don’t want to eat out tonight, but if you pick me up from work at 5:00, we can visit at my home.” He agreed and drove off, and the first thing I did when I arrived at the office was to march into the lobby, where were three of my Christian co-workers, all guys. “Is anyone getting off work at 5:00 tonight who would be willing to pay me a visit? I’ll serve ice cream,” I bribed. Praise God “Dash” agreed to come, and I quickly explained why I wanted an extra guy in the house.

I was determined not to cut my taxi driver friend much slack, so when he’d not showed by 5:05, it was a relief to take another taxi home! Due to rush hour traffic, it was nearly 6:00 when I got home…and there was my taxi driver friend patiently waiting, all apologies for having been delayed in getting me. My housemate said that Dash had come and gone, and uncertain what the evening held, I invited the driver in….

Visit to the Orphan Village

Village life isn’t glamorous. We went on a hot day, and the place was dry and dusty, and when I took off my shoes to enter the chief’s hut, I nearly yelped aloud as my feet touched the heat of the earth; then I looked at all the barefoot villagers around me who pad about uncomplainingly day after day. The available water was warm and dirty. Putrid heaps decomposed in the sun and flies buzzed lazily between them and us. Groundnuts (aka peanuts) were spread out to dry, chickens clucked softly and pecked at insects, goats were tied to posts and munched wilted leaves and patiently twitched their tails.

In the midst of these surroundings that are frankly repulsive at first glance, your brothers and sisters are joyfully serving Christ. They are doing the ordinary things of life: carrying water, farming corn, preparing meals, raising livestock, washing clothes, constructing mud buildings. They are doing everything they do heartily as to the Lord, loving Him and loving people on His behalf. They are struggling to survive, and yet they want to devote themselves to caring for the orphans in the surrounding communities.

Precious orphans who need God's love

As we had a photo assembly line, where children were being thrust into place, then whisked away to make way for the next, I couldn’t help but think that to God, these children aren’t just names or numbers in a process: each one is an individual soul, incredibly precious in His sight. He’s called His people to take care of them. All that’s needed is the funding.

Please pray that our application will find favor in the eyes of those reviewing it!

God is so Amazingly Good!

One of the ways that my family and I keep in touch with each other is through skype. It’s not unusual to be dropped 3-4 times in a 15-minute conversation, but we bear with the internet glitches because at least we can see each other and hear one another’s voices.

Yesterday we spoke for 1 1/3 hours, and the connection was dropped only once. Was that an awesome birthday gift, or what?! =D When we hung up, it was hard for me to stop praising and thanking God. I know that you, my friends, were praying for me that day and wanted to let you know of this marvelous way the day was made special. =)

Another way He made it special was arranging for jollof rice and plantain – my two favorites! – to both be served for supper! No one here knew it was my birthday, and rice and plantain are completely different starchy bases for meals: they are never served together. Except last night, with more of that flaky white fish. Mmm-mmm!

Best of all (OK, to be honest, tied for best: talking with the family was pretty sweet), I was in God’s house yesterday, worshiping Him and praising Him for all His goodness. Still can’t understand many of the songs, but I know the people who are singing them, and I know that God is delighting in their praises.

These have been golden days in my life, as I learn more and more of the language and am able to communicate more and more with the people I meet. Several times now I’ve walked home from the office to the house (4-5 miles, I think: I’m not good at estimates!) and am making more and more friends along the way. That’s a lot of saying “more and more,” but it expresses the abundance of the life God’s given for right now. =) Aside from the internet, I haven’t been in contact with westerners for two weeks as of today, and God is abundantly meeting my fellowship needs through my Ghanaian brothers and sisters. Thanks for YOUR prayers, which I know are making these days such a blessing.

Tomorrow two of my Ghanaian brothers and I plan to visit a village where there are plans to construct an orphanage. My role will be photographer and writer, as I work with area leaders to complete a grant request which we hope will secure the funding needed for the orphanage. Please pray for our success!

And one more prayer request: please pray that the rains in this area would stop now. Many places are experiencing flooding, which can be just as devastating as drought if left unchecked.

Thanks again for all your care, love, and prayers. God is good ALL the time, and He’s using you to show it!

The Beauty Saloon

My friend “Rabia” invited me to accompany her to the “saloon,” as the people here call it and often spell it. Because African hair is so delicate, Rabia leaves her hair-washing to the professionals, and therefore visits her stylist fairly frequently. The stylist began by rubbing a softening cream into Rabia’s hair and letting it sit for perhaps 20 minutes. Then the hair was gently washed and set with curlers.


The entire process took the better part of two hours, so I watched the other customers with interest, especially the one who was getting hair extensions attached. It’s amazing to watch a woman with no more than an inch of hair all around get transformed into a long-haired individual!

Next time you hear an African woman talk of her visit to the saloon, don’t be too shocked. ;)

Hair extensions, anyone?

The Watering Hole

This is a typical source of water for the villagers in northern Ghana. Animals use it as freely as people – for drinking, for wading, for washing. No wonder it’s so murky! And no wonder that half of the children in this region die from preventable diseases before they are six years old.

That said, aren’t you impressed by these beautiful girls who carry such full loads on their heads for more than half a mile? =) Could you do it? I couldn't!