The cedi and the pesewa take the place of the dollar and the cent in Ghanaian currency, and are worth about 70% of their American counterparts at present. The funny thing about the cedi is that two years ago, Ghana’s government took four zeros off its bills, turning a 10,000-cedi bill into a 1-cedi bill. The populace has had a hard time making this adjustment, and it’s not uncommon to ask what something costs and be told “3,000.” Ah, that would be 3,000 units of the old currency, which would translate into 30 pesewas of the new money…or about 21 cents.
Last week I was getting a price quote for a friend, and was told that depending on the materials used, the cost would be “between 400 and 600.” Between $280 and $420, I made the quick mental calculation – ouch! Thank the Lord for a friend who was walking with me that day and saw my expression. “That’s 400,000 to 600,000,” he clarified: 40-60 new cedis, or $28-$42. MUCH more reasonable!
I tell you, between this kind of math and the language skills, there’s no hope of mental atrophy. =D Thanks for your prayers as I continue to struggle with the language acquisition – such an important endeavor, and such a challenging one for me!
Friday, October 30, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Well, at least it doesn’t stink by this wall
The word in question is blocked out simply because I want this blog to be free from vulgarity; suffice it to say that an American would never think of using this very public location for the forbidden purpose.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Questions and Answers – 10
What’s the church like that you attend?
God has placed me in a temporary church home full of dear people whom I love, and who love me. It is a joy to arrive each Sunday morning and exchange affectionate smiles, greetings, and hugs with my brothers and sisters in Christ. It’s a small church: there have been as many as sixty in attendance, though one rainy morning we were fewer than twenty.
Because I teach in the Sunday school, I haven’t participated in too many church services. However, this seems to be the general order of things on a typical Sunday morning:
1) We begin with the “Morning Dew,” a guided Bible study on some selected theme or passage of Scripture. This time is interactive, as the leading elder invites members of the audience to read the passage(s) aloud, share any observations, and answer questions.
2) A church elder next guides us into intercessory prayer, throwing out topics for prayer that leave the audience murmuring in beautiful harmony, rising and falling in volume together. When John talks about the prayers of the saints being like incense in Revelation, I think he is referring to African Christians’ prayers. ;)
3) The singing portion of the service consists of three distinct parts: “praise” (lively tunes that have people dancing in joy before the Lord), “worship” (slower pieces that are sung reverently), and hymns (there are always two). The songs are multi-lingual and are accompanied by drums (western and African), tambourines, and a keyboard.
4) Offering is a livelier affair here than it is in the States, as a collection basket is placed up front and we dance past it row by row, dropping in our money as we pass.
5) We welcome our visitors, make announcements – there are no church bulletins! – and sing “Happy Birthday” to all who celebrated their birthdays within the past week.
6) Two hours into the service, the sermon finally starts, running about half an hour.
Stay tuned for another post, because the Sunday morning service is only one aspect of what goes on in this little church. I love and miss my church home in the States…but know that when I leave, I’ll miss this church too.
God has placed me in a temporary church home full of dear people whom I love, and who love me. It is a joy to arrive each Sunday morning and exchange affectionate smiles, greetings, and hugs with my brothers and sisters in Christ. It’s a small church: there have been as many as sixty in attendance, though one rainy morning we were fewer than twenty.
Because I teach in the Sunday school, I haven’t participated in too many church services. However, this seems to be the general order of things on a typical Sunday morning:
1) We begin with the “Morning Dew,” a guided Bible study on some selected theme or passage of Scripture. This time is interactive, as the leading elder invites members of the audience to read the passage(s) aloud, share any observations, and answer questions.
2) A church elder next guides us into intercessory prayer, throwing out topics for prayer that leave the audience murmuring in beautiful harmony, rising and falling in volume together. When John talks about the prayers of the saints being like incense in Revelation, I think he is referring to African Christians’ prayers. ;)
3) The singing portion of the service consists of three distinct parts: “praise” (lively tunes that have people dancing in joy before the Lord), “worship” (slower pieces that are sung reverently), and hymns (there are always two). The songs are multi-lingual and are accompanied by drums (western and African), tambourines, and a keyboard.
4) Offering is a livelier affair here than it is in the States, as a collection basket is placed up front and we dance past it row by row, dropping in our money as we pass.
5) We welcome our visitors, make announcements – there are no church bulletins! – and sing “Happy Birthday” to all who celebrated their birthdays within the past week.
6) Two hours into the service, the sermon finally starts, running about half an hour.
Stay tuned for another post, because the Sunday morning service is only one aspect of what goes on in this little church. I love and miss my church home in the States…but know that when I leave, I’ll miss this church too.
Friday, October 23, 2009
For All Those Who Were Wondering
Yes, Jason actually prayed in our office to receive Christ last Tuesday – sorry if that wasn’t clear. And yes, he came to church this past Sunday. He intends to come back, and he really needs your prayers at this time of transition: as someone without a high school education and without a job, he is still dependent on his parents for his living, even though he is in his 30s. Combine these realities with the fact that Africans are much less individualistic than Americans, and much more dependent on their extended families and communities for decisions and finances – easy for us to philosophize about and discuss, but hard for us to truly grasp and understand – and you’ll see that he is facing decisions common to many new believers around the world, but foreign to us.
Jason has been to our office twice this week: the first time we gave him a Bible, and the second time he came with a list of questions based on his reading thus far, from “Why does Jesus say we should love our enemies? How is that possible?” to “Why are Muslims’ prayers silent, while the people in church prayed aloud?” (as they do in Africa). Mr. Joe gave him lesson one of a discipleship course that the two will complete together on Saturdays, so pray for them as they launch into that tomorrow.
It’s exciting to see Jason’s eagerness in his new-found faith, as he voluntarily exclaims “I love Christ” or asks whether he can pray aloud in his native tongue. Let’s pray that his heart will be soil which will bring forth fruit a hundred-fold from the Word he has heard and accepted!
Jason has been to our office twice this week: the first time we gave him a Bible, and the second time he came with a list of questions based on his reading thus far, from “Why does Jesus say we should love our enemies? How is that possible?” to “Why are Muslims’ prayers silent, while the people in church prayed aloud?” (as they do in Africa). Mr. Joe gave him lesson one of a discipleship course that the two will complete together on Saturdays, so pray for them as they launch into that tomorrow.
It’s exciting to see Jason’s eagerness in his new-found faith, as he voluntarily exclaims “I love Christ” or asks whether he can pray aloud in his native tongue. Let’s pray that his heart will be soil which will bring forth fruit a hundred-fold from the Word he has heard and accepted!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Fufu!
What makes fufu such a treat – its great taste, or the labor-intensive process needed to fix it? Fufu is a delicacy in this region, and is generally reserved for special occasions. Let me walk you through how to make some for your next party.
Step 1 – Cook up cassava and plantain (separately) until soft; cut into small chunks.
Step 2 – Starting with one of these ingredients, put pieces into a mortar one by one while a friend pounds the pestle. S/he (yes, plenty of men do this part) will pound the food in a slow rhythm so that you have time between the downstrokes to drop in new pieces or fold over the sticky mass so it will be well kneaded. Keep your hand wet so that the food sticks to itself, not to you. Repeat with the other ingredient. If you are preparing for a large party, you may need to perform Step 2 a few times with each ingredient so that you end up with several globs (like my technical terminology?).
Step 3 – Put one glob of each ingredient in the mortar; your friend will pound these together as you mix them by hand between the downstrokes. Again, keep your hand wet; be sure to take out any fibrous pieces that you feel as you work the dough.
Step 4 – Separate the resulting fufu into single servings; ladle stew into each bowl and enjoy!
Step 1 – Cook up cassava and plantain (separately) until soft; cut into small chunks.
Step 2 – Starting with one of these ingredients, put pieces into a mortar one by one while a friend pounds the pestle. S/he (yes, plenty of men do this part) will pound the food in a slow rhythm so that you have time between the downstrokes to drop in new pieces or fold over the sticky mass so it will be well kneaded. Keep your hand wet so that the food sticks to itself, not to you. Repeat with the other ingredient. If you are preparing for a large party, you may need to perform Step 2 a few times with each ingredient so that you end up with several globs (like my technical terminology?).
Step 3 – Put one glob of each ingredient in the mortar; your friend will pound these together as you mix them by hand between the downstrokes. Again, keep your hand wet; be sure to take out any fibrous pieces that you feel as you work the dough.
Step 4 – Separate the resulting fufu into single servings; ladle stew into each bowl and enjoy!
Note: fufu is extremely filling! Take a small first serving and see whether you’re still hungry before you go back for seconds.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Questions and Answers – 9
Have there been any interesting language or cultural misunderstandings you’re up to sharing?
A fellow staff member exchanged greetings with me one morning, and I gave appropriate replies to his “Good morning,” “How are you?” and “Did you sleep well?” “How is…?” he asked, and recognizing the “how is” part of his question, I gave the reply, “Just fine.” “No, no,” he reproved me. “I asked you how your husband is. But you don’t have a husband, do you?” “No,” I humbly replied, and had him teach me how to say “I don’t have a husband.” “That was a trick question,” I accused him, and his eyes just twinkled.
Would you believe he tripped me up on the very same question two days later? But third time’s the charm, and I finally got it right!
Questions that are inappropriate in America are thoroughly appropriate here. I can’t keep count of how often I’ve been asked my age or why I haven’t yet gotten married (and if weight was something Africans worried about – they don’t, rather refreshingly, and are just as happy fat as not – I’m sure I’d get questioned on that too!), and as I was discussing this with Abba one day, he pointed out that there are other things which are offensive in America which aren’t here. “For example, if I say ‘---- you!’ that’s not a bad thing here, but Americans say it is.” “Abba!” I exclaimed in shock. “Yes, that’s a very bad word! Don’t use it!!” “But ‘----’ even appears in American movies,” he pointed out, “so I just don’t understand why it’s so offensive.” “Yes, but movies get a very bad rating if they use that word,” I declared. “Hmm. Well, when we say ‘---- you!’ we’re just joking with you,” he assured me. “You don’t have keep saying it,” I pointed out, regaining my sense of humor.
It turned out to be a good thing Abba related this information to me, however, as the very next day a sweet-as-can-be girl on staff used it when talking with a guy in my office. Thank the Lord that I knew not to be offended or shocked at her vocabulary. NOT that I plan to add it to my vocabulary at ALL!
Later on the same week, some boys were telling me how the thumbs-up sign is very offensive here. “Really?” I exclaimed, unconsciously giving it. “This is bad?” Yes, they assured me. “Well, this is just a way of expressing that something is positive,” I said, unconsciously demonstrating the sign again. “So if you ask me how something is going, I would just do this; what do you do?” As I kept repeating the sign by way of demonstration, I suddenly realized that it is so totally non-offensive to me, I was using it without a second thought. And that’s what it had been like for Abba when he kept swearing at me!
Note: Questions 6-11 were all provided by one dear friend who was curious about different aspects of life here that hadn’t necessarily been addressed on this blog yet. You too can ask questions – I welcome your ideas for blog material. =)
A fellow staff member exchanged greetings with me one morning, and I gave appropriate replies to his “Good morning,” “How are you?” and “Did you sleep well?” “How is…?” he asked, and recognizing the “how is” part of his question, I gave the reply, “Just fine.” “No, no,” he reproved me. “I asked you how your husband is. But you don’t have a husband, do you?” “No,” I humbly replied, and had him teach me how to say “I don’t have a husband.” “That was a trick question,” I accused him, and his eyes just twinkled.
Would you believe he tripped me up on the very same question two days later? But third time’s the charm, and I finally got it right!
Questions that are inappropriate in America are thoroughly appropriate here. I can’t keep count of how often I’ve been asked my age or why I haven’t yet gotten married (and if weight was something Africans worried about – they don’t, rather refreshingly, and are just as happy fat as not – I’m sure I’d get questioned on that too!), and as I was discussing this with Abba one day, he pointed out that there are other things which are offensive in America which aren’t here. “For example, if I say ‘---- you!’ that’s not a bad thing here, but Americans say it is.” “Abba!” I exclaimed in shock. “Yes, that’s a very bad word! Don’t use it!!” “But ‘----’ even appears in American movies,” he pointed out, “so I just don’t understand why it’s so offensive.” “Yes, but movies get a very bad rating if they use that word,” I declared. “Hmm. Well, when we say ‘---- you!’ we’re just joking with you,” he assured me. “You don’t have keep saying it,” I pointed out, regaining my sense of humor.
It turned out to be a good thing Abba related this information to me, however, as the very next day a sweet-as-can-be girl on staff used it when talking with a guy in my office. Thank the Lord that I knew not to be offended or shocked at her vocabulary. NOT that I plan to add it to my vocabulary at ALL!
Later on the same week, some boys were telling me how the thumbs-up sign is very offensive here. “Really?” I exclaimed, unconsciously giving it. “This is bad?” Yes, they assured me. “Well, this is just a way of expressing that something is positive,” I said, unconsciously demonstrating the sign again. “So if you ask me how something is going, I would just do this; what do you do?” As I kept repeating the sign by way of demonstration, I suddenly realized that it is so totally non-offensive to me, I was using it without a second thought. And that’s what it had been like for Abba when he kept swearing at me!
Note: Questions 6-11 were all provided by one dear friend who was curious about different aspects of life here that hadn’t necessarily been addressed on this blog yet. You too can ask questions – I welcome your ideas for blog material. =)
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Watching God at Work!
It was 10:00 this past Tuesday and my phone rang, announcing that I had a visitor. Sure enough, it was Jason. “Lord, please give me wisdom!” was all I could pray as I escorted him into the office. And God was so gracious – almost immediately we were discussing spiritual topics, and Mr. Joe was entering the conversation too, and Jason was listening intently to the two of us and asking very good questions. God had equipped Mr. Joe with knowledge of the Koran and the Hadith, and He had equipped each of us with the ability to pray when the other was talking. We covered sin and death and the Cross, and Jason questioned everything until he understood.
Jason began to tell me how worried he is about me walking alone through town, and vividly recounted the story of another white woman who got attacked. As he wrapped up his horror story, he said, “Leah, I’m just warning you. If I do not tell you of the danger, then I am only loving you through my teeth, not from my heart.” Wow, talk about a divine opening! “Jason!” I pounced on his line, “That is the kind of love Mr. Joe and I have for you! We see the danger you are in if you die without Christ in your life, and if we do not warn you to trust Jesus, we love you only through our teeth, not from our hearts.” A little later I asked him, “You say you like to listen to sermons sometimes on the TV; you say you’ve read the Bible sometimes; we’ve been talking to you about Jesus, and we know Amos has been talking to you about Jesus. What more do you need to help you with your decision about Jesus?” “Mr. Joe, she is making things very hot for me, isn’t she?” was his aside reply, and Mr. Joe simply reminded him that there is a cost to following Christ. After he’d given a few examples of possible repercussions, and Jason had said that he wouldn’t be bothered by any of those if he knew he was doing what was right, Mr. Joe asked him what was preventing him from praying to receive Christ, and – Jason agreed that he’d like to do so! =D
Jason left our office shortly after noon, and as he took his leave he commented that God is so great, because he had come to my office for one purpose, and found that God had a different purpose for him that day!
Praise God with me for this answer to the prayers of so many. We are just little pieces of God’s beautiful puzzle: to Him be all the praise and glory! Please pray that He will protect and nurture Jason at this critical time.
Thanks for the part you are playing through prayer. Nothing God is accomplishing through me would happen apart from that. Please continue praying with me for the other friends-that-I’ve-made-on-my-walk: may Jason simply be the firstfruits of many who will come to eternal salvation in this city!
Jason began to tell me how worried he is about me walking alone through town, and vividly recounted the story of another white woman who got attacked. As he wrapped up his horror story, he said, “Leah, I’m just warning you. If I do not tell you of the danger, then I am only loving you through my teeth, not from my heart.” Wow, talk about a divine opening! “Jason!” I pounced on his line, “That is the kind of love Mr. Joe and I have for you! We see the danger you are in if you die without Christ in your life, and if we do not warn you to trust Jesus, we love you only through our teeth, not from our hearts.” A little later I asked him, “You say you like to listen to sermons sometimes on the TV; you say you’ve read the Bible sometimes; we’ve been talking to you about Jesus, and we know Amos has been talking to you about Jesus. What more do you need to help you with your decision about Jesus?” “Mr. Joe, she is making things very hot for me, isn’t she?” was his aside reply, and Mr. Joe simply reminded him that there is a cost to following Christ. After he’d given a few examples of possible repercussions, and Jason had said that he wouldn’t be bothered by any of those if he knew he was doing what was right, Mr. Joe asked him what was preventing him from praying to receive Christ, and – Jason agreed that he’d like to do so! =D
Jason left our office shortly after noon, and as he took his leave he commented that God is so great, because he had come to my office for one purpose, and found that God had a different purpose for him that day!
Praise God with me for this answer to the prayers of so many. We are just little pieces of God’s beautiful puzzle: to Him be all the praise and glory! Please pray that He will protect and nurture Jason at this critical time.
Thanks for the part you are playing through prayer. Nothing God is accomplishing through me would happen apart from that. Please continue praying with me for the other friends-that-I’ve-made-on-my-walk: may Jason simply be the firstfruits of many who will come to eternal salvation in this city!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Long But Worth It
The main purpose of my walks home has always been to establish relationships along the way that God might use to bring people to Christ…if not through me during my time in Ghana, then perhaps through a future contact with another Christian. The efforts to learn the language and converse with the people, the miles through the heat – yes, there’s a side benefit of exercise, but the main motivation is to reach people for Christ.
“Jason” met me on my second walk through town. Right from the start he has been an intense fellow – reaching out to shake my hand and then holding it tightly while looking fixedly into my eyes and earnestly saying such cheerful things as “Leah, you shouldn’t make too many friends in this town; be careful.” He wasn’t giving me any advice that he doesn’t follow himself, as he tends to be a very guarded fellow. While most men in town will introduce themselves and quickly follow up with “Are you married? Will you marry me?” it was some weeks into our acquaintance that he asked, “By the way, Leah, are you married?” He accepted my “No” thoughtfully and didn’t give any immediate feedback.
Around this time Abba told me that I can always ask a man why he wants to be my friend; and getting a bit weary of Jason’s intensity that always seemed to be dancing around an issue and never arriving, I determined that next time I would put the question to him. God’s timing is so good, because the very next day I walked up with this question in mind, and he casually mentioned, “Oh, by the way, did you know that ‘Amos’ is my brother?” That stopped me in my tracks: if he was my fellow-Christian’s brother, I certainly couldn’t try to end the acquaintance. “Lord, You are somehow at work in Jason’s life – help me to discern the part I need to play.”
This past Monday Jason and Amos came by the office I share with a fellow American, Mr. Joe. Amos announced that it was Jason’s birthday, and then in front of his brother stated that it was very important that we pray for Jason and try to help him become a Christian. After Jason left, Amos turned to me with his brother’s earnestness and urged, “Please do everything you can to help him become a Christian. He likes you, Leah.” All I could do was pray, because helping someone go from liking me to liking my Savior involves a change of heart that only God can bring about!
That evening I walked home again, and this time as I passed Jason, he joined me and accompanied me for half a mile or more. He kept saying things like “Leah, I told my brother I will come to church, but I said that only because of you” – and that’s one of his less pointed comments. God was continually gracious, because every time Jason said something like this, we passed someone I was able to greet in the local tongue, breaking the flow of conversation; I would turn back to Jason and somehow be able to turn the talk to spiritual things.
We passed a sign with the words “Born Again,” and I pointed it out to Jason. “Today is your physical birthday; but I want you to know that my prayer for you is that before I leave Ghana, I will celebrate your spiritual birth.” He’d never heard the phrase before, and I gave him a very thorough explanation. At last he took leave, but held my hand as always, looked at me intensely as always, and said, “Leah, we have very important matters to discuss about ourselves. I will come and see you tomorrow.”
To be continued….
“Jason” met me on my second walk through town. Right from the start he has been an intense fellow – reaching out to shake my hand and then holding it tightly while looking fixedly into my eyes and earnestly saying such cheerful things as “Leah, you shouldn’t make too many friends in this town; be careful.” He wasn’t giving me any advice that he doesn’t follow himself, as he tends to be a very guarded fellow. While most men in town will introduce themselves and quickly follow up with “Are you married? Will you marry me?” it was some weeks into our acquaintance that he asked, “By the way, Leah, are you married?” He accepted my “No” thoughtfully and didn’t give any immediate feedback.
Around this time Abba told me that I can always ask a man why he wants to be my friend; and getting a bit weary of Jason’s intensity that always seemed to be dancing around an issue and never arriving, I determined that next time I would put the question to him. God’s timing is so good, because the very next day I walked up with this question in mind, and he casually mentioned, “Oh, by the way, did you know that ‘Amos’ is my brother?” That stopped me in my tracks: if he was my fellow-Christian’s brother, I certainly couldn’t try to end the acquaintance. “Lord, You are somehow at work in Jason’s life – help me to discern the part I need to play.”
This past Monday Jason and Amos came by the office I share with a fellow American, Mr. Joe. Amos announced that it was Jason’s birthday, and then in front of his brother stated that it was very important that we pray for Jason and try to help him become a Christian. After Jason left, Amos turned to me with his brother’s earnestness and urged, “Please do everything you can to help him become a Christian. He likes you, Leah.” All I could do was pray, because helping someone go from liking me to liking my Savior involves a change of heart that only God can bring about!
That evening I walked home again, and this time as I passed Jason, he joined me and accompanied me for half a mile or more. He kept saying things like “Leah, I told my brother I will come to church, but I said that only because of you” – and that’s one of his less pointed comments. God was continually gracious, because every time Jason said something like this, we passed someone I was able to greet in the local tongue, breaking the flow of conversation; I would turn back to Jason and somehow be able to turn the talk to spiritual things.
We passed a sign with the words “Born Again,” and I pointed it out to Jason. “Today is your physical birthday; but I want you to know that my prayer for you is that before I leave Ghana, I will celebrate your spiritual birth.” He’d never heard the phrase before, and I gave him a very thorough explanation. At last he took leave, but held my hand as always, looked at me intensely as always, and said, “Leah, we have very important matters to discuss about ourselves. I will come and see you tomorrow.”
To be continued….
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Questions and Answers – 8
Are there certain times when you have to wear “local” garments?
Yes indeed! Fridays are “African wear” days in Ghana, when people the country over wear clothes made from beautiful African cloths. Businessmen and women who wear suits and collared shirts throughout the week will revert to African shirts and dresses on this day. At present I have a grand total of two outfits made from African prints, and they’ve bravely been sharing the duty, taking turns from week to week.
Funerals are important occasions in Africa, and there are prescribed clothes to wear at such events. One wears red and/or black to a memorial service (the red symbolizes how one’s eyes have been weeping…although I do have to say that the official color is more orange than red) and black on white to the church Thanksgiving service that takes place on a later day. My family wanted to see what my custom-made funeral outfits look like, so this particular Q&A gives a great excuse to share those pictures. ;)
Note: being out of town for a funeral + having no internet access upon my return = a long break between blog posts. Don't forget that if there is ever a long spell without posts, it probably means that I need prayer for electric and/or internet service to be restored. ;)
Yes indeed! Fridays are “African wear” days in Ghana, when people the country over wear clothes made from beautiful African cloths. Businessmen and women who wear suits and collared shirts throughout the week will revert to African shirts and dresses on this day. At present I have a grand total of two outfits made from African prints, and they’ve bravely been sharing the duty, taking turns from week to week.
Funerals are important occasions in Africa, and there are prescribed clothes to wear at such events. One wears red and/or black to a memorial service (the red symbolizes how one’s eyes have been weeping…although I do have to say that the official color is more orange than red) and black on white to the church Thanksgiving service that takes place on a later day. My family wanted to see what my custom-made funeral outfits look like, so this particular Q&A gives a great excuse to share those pictures. ;)
With Abba - matching fabrics
Note: being out of town for a funeral + having no internet access upon my return = a long break between blog posts. Don't forget that if there is ever a long spell without posts, it probably means that I need prayer for electric and/or internet service to be restored. ;)
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Questions and Answers – 7
Are there any textbooks for learning the language, or do you have to pick it all up through conversation?
A friend gave me a few yellowed pages, stapled together, that provide some translations between English and the local tribal tongue; however, I’ve not found it overly helpful, as it provides translations for random phrases such as “They will go to England next year,” “Is the Independence Square the most attractive sight in Accra?” and “Are there many executioners?” These are all verbatim from the phrasebook, and hardly conversational in my opinion.
So I rely on what people are willing to teach me…and thank the Lord, they’re willing! My language instruction began with a fellow staff member who was incredibly patient: he would tell me a word I should learn in both the local dialect and in Twi, repeating each several times slowly until I could say it back to him perfectly (or at least understandably); then I carefully wrote down the resulting sounds in my plain spiral-bound notebook whose cover has just fallen off.
As I walk along the streets, I greet people and let them engage me in conversation. If they say a word I don’t understand, I’ll tell them so – and if they want to take the time to instruct me, I’ll write down my new word so I can review it later.
Two boys in the neighborhood have come over a few times to teach me some words. These brothers are Muslim, and it’s very cool because I’ve been able to have them use my local-dialect Bible to teach me some words. ;) Also, Abba has been teaching me Twi “kakra kakra,” aka small-small. My memory is not the best, so just because I’ve been told a word and its meaning doesn’t mean I’ll remember it…but “meyirimeho,” I’m trying!
A friend gave me a few yellowed pages, stapled together, that provide some translations between English and the local tribal tongue; however, I’ve not found it overly helpful, as it provides translations for random phrases such as “They will go to England next year,” “Is the Independence Square the most attractive sight in Accra?” and “Are there many executioners?” These are all verbatim from the phrasebook, and hardly conversational in my opinion.
So I rely on what people are willing to teach me…and thank the Lord, they’re willing! My language instruction began with a fellow staff member who was incredibly patient: he would tell me a word I should learn in both the local dialect and in Twi, repeating each several times slowly until I could say it back to him perfectly (or at least understandably); then I carefully wrote down the resulting sounds in my plain spiral-bound notebook whose cover has just fallen off.
As I walk along the streets, I greet people and let them engage me in conversation. If they say a word I don’t understand, I’ll tell them so – and if they want to take the time to instruct me, I’ll write down my new word so I can review it later.
Two boys in the neighborhood have come over a few times to teach me some words. These brothers are Muslim, and it’s very cool because I’ve been able to have them use my local-dialect Bible to teach me some words. ;) Also, Abba has been teaching me Twi “kakra kakra,” aka small-small. My memory is not the best, so just because I’ve been told a word and its meaning doesn’t mean I’ll remember it…but “meyirimeho,” I’m trying!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Questions and Answers – 6
How do the local people view Americans?
Praise the Lord that He stationed me in a place where America and her people are viewed very positively! It’s not unusual to see American flags printed on shirts or flapping in miniature from car windows, and people are consistently excited to hear that I’m from the U.S.
Praise the Lord that He stationed me in a place where America and her people are viewed very positively! It’s not unusual to see American flags printed on shirts or flapping in miniature from car windows, and people are consistently excited to hear that I’m from the U.S.
President Barack Obama paid a state visit just a few weeks after my arrival, and Ghanaians were so excited to pay honor to an American president. Unaware of his policies (Ghanaians are far more socially conservative than the dignitary they were hosting), the people here loved the fact that America has a black president who chose to visit their country. I frequently see President Obama’s face on miniature American flags around town, or see him smiling from t-shirts or bumper stickers.
America seems to be viewed by many Ghanaians as the Promised Land. Everyone wants me to assist him or her in getting to America. I’ve come up with the stock response, “I wish I could take all my friends to America! However, even if you can’t ever make it to America, be sure you make it into heaven. Heaven is MUCH better than America, I assure you!” If a thoughtful person wants to pursue the conversation, I’ll explain how the average Ghanaian is actually happier than the average American, how there’s as much sin in America as in Ghana, and how as a result there’s no place on earth that will fulfill all our desires…but there’s a Person Who will do so. ;)
Please pray with me that people’s interest in me as an American will lead to interest in my Savior!
America seems to be viewed by many Ghanaians as the Promised Land. Everyone wants me to assist him or her in getting to America. I’ve come up with the stock response, “I wish I could take all my friends to America! However, even if you can’t ever make it to America, be sure you make it into heaven. Heaven is MUCH better than America, I assure you!” If a thoughtful person wants to pursue the conversation, I’ll explain how the average Ghanaian is actually happier than the average American, how there’s as much sin in America as in Ghana, and how as a result there’s no place on earth that will fulfill all our desires…but there’s a Person Who will do so. ;)
Please pray with me that people’s interest in me as an American will lead to interest in my Savior!
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Our Running Gag
Every time I walk home from work, I pass the house where these children live; one of them usually notices me and alerts the others, and they all line up to hail me and bask in my attention…as of course I bask in theirs. =)
The little fellow on the left asked me a random question the first time he saw me: “Where is your baby?” “I don’t have a baby,” I replied, and said the first thing that came to mind as I looked at his darling little face: “Would you like to be my baby?” He grinned broadly and nodded. Now every time he sees me he eagerly asks me where my baby is, just to hear me renew the offer that he can be my baby if he’d like.
“Red, brown, yellow, black, and white, they are precious in His sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world!” And so do I!!
“Red, brown, yellow, black, and white, they are precious in His sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world!” And so do I!!
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