Ghana: Day 2

This morning my alarm went off.  I wasn’t sure what was happening for a few moments, all I knew was to silence that sound!

Then I realized it was my alarm. Thankfully, I haven’t slept so well in weeks, if not months. Unfortunately, it was only 5 hours or so.

It’s 3:45 AM, we’re travelling from Tema to Bolgatanga today.  Bro Samson wants to get out of the greater Accra area before most of the trucks get rolling. I stumble out of bed and grab my shower. I know I should hurry, but I’m in Africa, they won’t really be on time to pick me up, right?

Bro Samson is a punctual African.

I wasn’t keeping things too far behind, we were leaving the Feeb Fiesta Hotel at 4:10 instead of 4.   4:10AM is midnight back home.  That was weird thinking about.  I can text my wife “Good morning” in… oh…8 hours or so after we’ve been on the road.

I got to see a vast expanse of Africa today.  I know, Africa is a very big continent. What I just said was equivalent to driving through Montana and saying you saw a vast expanse of North America.  I do think however, that I saw a vast RANGE of Africa.  The geographical and socio-economic features I witnessed today were quite varied.

The city populous between the Accra area and Kumasi vs the much more remote areas of the north Ghana.  Accra, Kumasi and almost every city in the first half of the trip with Presbyterian and Pentecostal churches on every corner, and Tamale with multiple Mosques.  The more remote areas near Techiman where it seemed to me that the people while remote, were more well off than their urban counterparts (in general).  The houses seemed better built, more freshly painted, but then further to the north, the mud brick homes and the rounded huts.  The mud huts, but look at the people! How do you live in a mud hut and keep your clothes so bright and clean?

The mountainous area with lush vegetation in south continually getting more arid with every kilometer we traveled until suddenly a large river – and the street vendors are selling fish!  Twenty minutes later, the river is forgotten again and we continue our progression into more and more arid regions.

The city area where things were so busy, and the northern section where kids were seen playing soccer, sometimes with coconuts for a ball, sometimes with soccer balls. I thought I would see soccer played in the streets of the city, but I did not.  Perhaps it was the timing, we were in the north in the afternoon when the schools had let out. Also, I’m sure it was the much more land free for things like a soccer field. A soccer field with no nets, just three poles for a goal. Poles seemed to be the size of bamboo, but were a different wood I think.

Of course there are the things you witness in poorer countries with less facilities. The young boy last night, stark naked, save for the impressive amount of bubbles, as he sponge bathed in the street out of a small bucket.  Cleanest boy in all of Africa after that!  The buses that stop along the side of the road so that everyone may use the “facilities”.  Except those facilities don’t exist, and when they do, you wonder if you’d rather just be out in nature.  The Toyota full of preachers that had to stop to use the same facilities later that day… *cough*   As they say, when in Rome Africa….  The trash that just seemed to be everywhere.

You witness the wonders of African culture too.  The woman who helped the two children across the very very busy road and let them go when they were in the clear and returned to her shop – they weren’t her children, they were just children, and children are cared for by everyone.  The women and men that despite the trash everywhere, could be seen sweeping the dirt in front of their home or shop. Also as I mentioned before, how clean so many people were despite their conditions.

You witness a market in every village.  The city has the occasional grocery store, but mostly the market is anywhere the people are. The roundabouts and toll booths are the busiest – captive audience! Selling everything you can think of.  Tamale was a zoo!  It looked like New Albany’s “Harvest Homecoming” except for this is every day and they don’t shut the street down to traffic!

You see women selling wild mushrooms on the side of the road.  You wonder where on earth they came from, there doesn’t seem to be anything here for miles!  The two boys, let’s say 8 years old or so,  walking down the side of the road, same thing…where on earth did they come from?  No matter, they will be cared for by anyone they come across should the need arise.

The mango trees, the cashew trees, the kassava drying beside the road, the women making charcoal and putting it in bags, and everyone balancing something on their head.

Fourteen hours of driving. This isn’t interstate driving. Better than some videos I’ve seen of VGR missionaries on the dirt roads, but still not interstate.  Not set your cruise and go.  Traffic, people, traffic, people, speed bumps, toll booths, goats, speed bumps, donkeys, and the craziness that is driving in Africa or Haiti. (My only two reference points)

So it’s been a long day of travel, on the heels of a previous long day of travel.  Still, I don’t feel too bad.

(I could go into that stretch where I was trying to sleep in the car, and Bro Samson must have received 100 text messages causing his phone to chime, or the bajillion speed bumps, that all miraculously ended for a good hour after I decided I’d tried to sleep long enough.  I did sleep a couple hours in the car notwithstanding so I won’t complain!)

Arriving in the north, it was nice to meet my friend Bro Jeff again. I greeted him with the traditional Ghanaian handshake that Bro Wontumi taught me as he welcomed me to Ghana and the north!  He was quite impressed with my Ghananianishness. I like to try to blend in with the people as best I can!  A sister had prepared food for us, and after we settled into our rooms for a few minutes, we gathered to thank the Lord and eat what He had provided.

I should perhaps mention that I had a fine “lunch” at about 10:00 in Kumasi.  A nice fish, with Jollof rice, “red red” (fried plantains) and beans.  The other brothers opted for the more local “Banku” with a salmon stew.

Ok, back to dinner.  I wanted to try the local flair at the restaurant but was nervous to do so as I knew the place was a bit expensive. I didn’t want to try it, not like it and waste the money. So I was thankful that our sister had prepared some local food for us here at our destination. There was also some fried meat (goat, chicken, guinea foul) and rice in case the local food didn’t suit me.  I learned long ago that I liked “stew fish” from my Island friends and while I was in Haiti I was right at home with rice, beans, and fried plantains.  So the stewed goat (I think it was) sat perfect for me, with the rice and the meat.  They did have Banku and “light soup” as well, so I had to try it!

Banku is a cornmeal type dough that is cooked and is almost the consistency of a pizza dough. The Banku is prepared over a few days and has been given time to ferment so it’s a little sour.  If you weren’t used to naturally fermented foods such as sour kraut, fermented veggies, Kombucha, etc you won’t like this.  If you ARE used to it, as I am, you will see that you will like it after you’ve been here for a week, but it’s still a little strong for you, and there is rice available after all.

To eat Banku you break off bits of the dough with your fingers and dip it into your stew or light soup.  Since your fingers are messy already, you can eat the meat in the soup with your fingers as well.  Be careful for the bones!

Now I am in my hotel room and the AC has gotten the room down to a nice 27 Celsius.  I’m hoping it will do a little better yet!  No worries, at least I’ll be lying horizontal!

I guess that’s all for today. No ministry/spiritually related things to talk about today, except that I’m excited for the convention to start tomorrow.  Are they really going to have me preach all four services with other ministers here too?

I will say, my worries (which I know are unprofitable) slightly returned when faced with the prospect of preaching to those who may come from some of these mud huts that I saw.  I don’t think I’ll be preaching against the evils of social media or the trappings of modern American life!

I suppose I will just have to just preach Christ.

Yes, I suppose I shall.

Next Ghana Post: Good Morning from Bolga