Crusing the Nile

Luxor

Coptic Cairo

Islamic Cairo

Pyramids!

Atakpame to Cairo

Final Installment

Good evening all,

9:00 PM here, and we’ve just finished a great 2nd anniversary dinner with Dustin and Julianna. Two years ago today, in Seattle, was their big day, and it was really fun to celebrate with them then, as it has been today, in a little different setting. The picture is of the dinner table that Cate so thoughtfully prepared, with candles, etc. We sang to them when they walked in, and Wayne had even fixed up some “mood lighting that you can see in the corner behind them. The flash takes much of the special lighting affects out, but it really was nice. And dinner was great too. We had a special left-over of a great meal from a couple of days ago—a dish called founyo, much like cous-cous. Also had some fresh zucchini with spices C & W bought in Morocco. And fresh salad with tomatoes, carrots, onions, and clean lettuce. It must really be clean too, as we have had a lot of it here, at their home, and none of us still have been sick. Interesting that we have met almost 50 other PCV’s, and their first question is how sick we’ve been. Our answers always seem to surprise them, so something we’ve been doing has been working right. Maybe there are no bad types of bacteria in nuts from Costco and dark chocolate, or something. We HAVE been careful, but have enjoyed when we’ve been out too. Happy Anniversary to Dustin and Julianna!!!!

The other picture we’re going to send tonight, our last night here in Atakpame, is from a visit to Akpene’s (the domestique) grandmother’s little area where she lives. It was quite obvious that this was an important visit for her, and it became one for us as well. The little family compound was one that we had not seen, so it gave us a real view of living conditions, and homes, etc. We have some video of being around these wonderful, happy people, but you’ll have to wait to see that. What fun we had!!!! We watched them play around with each other, show love to each other, and the respect that Akpene has for her grandparents was soooo evident. She was very proud to introduce us to them. She and Julianna have a very special relationship too. They walked back together, while the rest of us went on to some different errands, and it was interesting hearing about that. One example maybe. They were walking along talking about what was around them, with chickens running all over the street, etc and Julianna was trying to find out what Akpene knew about where J lives. She said that there were no chickens running around the streets where she lives. J said that Akpene looked at her with amazement, and disbelief, and then started laughing, as it seemed so funny. She was wondering how in the world we got the chicken and eggs, etc. It was fun hearing about the communication, and also startling in some ways at how little she knew about what it is like. We thought that it is also good that she doesn’t know all the details.

That caused a great discussion at dinner about how what we have seen in the last two weeks, has impacted us, if any (oh, skip the “if any”). I don’t think I could do a good job of encapsulating the discussion, but just to say that we have certainly been impacted, and we’d all love to find ways to help, and feel frustrated in determining the right ways. We also felt somewhat helpless in what we could do. It is obviously is a gov’t to gov’t situation also, and we need to find ways to help others see the needs for education, health care, roads, communication, etc. I made the suggestion that we eliminate much of our gov’t by just having a election, then see who the majority party is, then have them elect just a small number of their representatives (maybe 25) and send the rest of their party, and the entire other party home. We then eliminate all the staffs of those hundreds of elected officials too. There is no need to have them all sit in Wash, DC and spend time arguing, etc and then, whoever the majority party is at the time, makes the decision anyway, and they are required to vote the way of their party, or go find another party anyway. Think of the billions that we could save, and then we could take country by country and spend the money, and direct the help to them, one by one, and end up having a real impact on ending poverty over time. I guess you could imagine that not everyone agreed that this was a great proposal, but I tried. We DID agree however, on the needs for education, health care, roads and communication. The picture we are sending is of the group of kids I had around me in Akpene’s home area. You can probably tell that I was enjoying the kids at that point!!

This afternoon, we did some packing, getting ready for tomorrow. We will be leaving here at 7:00-7:30 and have a taxi hired (same driver/chauffeur) that we had on our trip up north last week. He is going to be with us all day, and even got special license/permission to take us to Accra, Ghana. Evidently we will have to take our luggage out of the car, stand in the lines, and drag the bags across the dirt and rocks, get passports looked at, and then meet him again on the other side of the border, for the final 3 hours to Accra. We think we have the timing worked out so that we can go check in to C, W, J, and D’s hotel, and let me take a shower and change part of my clothing for the long trip home. I leave at 9 PM tomorrow night (Tuesday) and arrive home in LA at the same time on Wednesday night, after spending 6 ½ hours in the Amsterdam airport, and 2 hours in the Memphis airport. So it will be 31 hours of traveling. Nada is going to pick me up at the airport and take me home, and then stay in Camarillo. Not sure whether I’m going to be awake or not, but it will be fun to start the discussion about the visit to Africa, which N & N will be taking in November.

The weather has been absolutely terrible, as we had heard, and for which we prepared. One day it was over 80 degrees. I think we were so lucky/blessed with the weather, it is unbelievable. Today was probably the most mild all day. Very comfortable. That does not mean, however, that we don’t sweat when we walk around, as it is quite muggy all the time.

One other thing from today. We visited Kreje, the NGO that C & W work with, and heard from the people that work there about what they do, and what good they think they are doing. It was all about AIDS education and testing. They go to the jr. hi, and hi schools, and “auntie Kreje,” who has lived with the effect of being HIV positive for a number of years, tells them the stories of how she is coping, and how others can also. She stresses the importance of testing, which they do for free for them at this place. They do it in a little room (4 X 4), and they evidently get a lot of them to come in. The only people that will come in are those who are just about already dead, and the hospital has told them to get tested, or they are young school kids, who are being educated in the importance. There is such a stigma, and misunderstanding of the effects, that if someone finds out they are HIV positive, their family and friends are so afraid of being around them, and possibly eating or drinking with them, or touching them, etc that the family kicks them out of their homes, etc. Think that might have a negative effect of having someone go in for testing? Sure, that keeps them away. . .. big time. . . so only when they are going to die do they come in. So really the only hope is through the education of the next generation, which they are feeling some encouraging signs. This story is to tell you that we all feel Cate and Wayne are involved in important work!!!!!!

Time to finish up the packing, but wanted to get my last email in the air somewhere (or however this works), and hopefully Wayne will be able to make a good connection and get the pictures included. Reliability of connection is not a word that can be used here. Think of that as you are reading this on our DSL or cable lines. We’ve had a great trip, and C, W, D, and J are continuing on the Egypt on Thursday after a couple more days in Accra. I have had a wonderful trip, and I it has also been great to be with the 5 of us (from MY perspective). It’s fun to broaden my own education by talking with people who are involved, and care about others the way they do. Now I will go back to our beautiful home, and we will continue to build our more beautiful, and bigger home, and I’ll go back to my great job, and continue to look at my pictures, which will remind me of what a real experience I’ve had/seen, and hopefully they will be boosters to help me to be aware of opportunities available to have an impact on much of the world that is more similar to what I’ve just seen, than what I’m going back to.

Love to you all. Bye from West Africa.

Last day in Atakpame

Woke up a little bit ago, knowing that this is my last regular morning in Africa. Tomorrow, we will be getting up very early and heading off for a 7-8 hour ride to the airport, so it will be a different day. I just finished shaving and brushing my teeth with the bottled water, went in to the kitchen and filled the pot with water, lit the propane stove, and have a hot shower “brewing,” so thought I’d write my last (probably) email.

Yesterday, after sending off an email, I wanted to go to a local church, and Cate thought that most of them began around 7:00 AM, so I took off at about 7:00, sort of like we do often at home (leave at the time something is supposed to begin). I decided I’d try to find the Baptiste Eglise that Cate and I had seen on a walk the other day, when we found the VBS. It is approximately a mile walk, so I got there about 7:20, after a couple of diversions trying to remember the right roads. People helped me. On arrival, there was a pastor inside writing on a chalk board (you remember, white pieces of a hard substance that write on a special kind of board that creates dust, and lets one see the words—much like the white boards we have on which we use colored markers). I walked outside and there were two people talking, and tried to ask them, using pointing to my watch, and to the church, what time the service began. They weren’t sure what I wanted, but I got 7:30 out of them. So I waited outside for ten minutes, greeting all the people walking by. Many were dressed up in beautiful colors, and both men and women had on closed toe shoes, and seemed to be aiming at something (going to churches I believe). They were lookin’ good and all fancied up. ALWAYS greeting, or returning the greeting, with/to me with a great smile. At 7:30, I went to the church. There was one other man in there now, and he was standing up in front of the church, singing and directing. I thought he must be practicing, but I think I came to find out that he started on time, even though there was no one there. The pastor came and pointed for me to sit down. Kirsten, you’ll appreciate this—I sat down in the second row, as per usual. I tried singing along, humming along, whatever. A couple more men walked in and sat near the front. Then they stopped singing, and the pastor came down from “up” on the platform, and kind of pointed to me and said something. Another man came over to me and said, “you pray.” So I did. It felt good praying for the privilege of being many miles from home and worshiping the same God with Christian friends in another country, and knowing that this was happening all over the world. I prayed for their health, their education, their country’s leaders and government, all our families, and a good worship experience for me. The pastor then began, not a service, but the morning Bible class. When a man walked in, he stopp, went over and brought him up and sat him next to me, and the new man told me he spoke English, and he was to interpret for me. He was great, and spoke very good English. He is a music and drawing teacher from a nearby village. Found out later that he was also a visitor, but had been there one other time, when asked by the pastor to do some special music, and he liked the church so he came back. He said that he has a goal of building a small church in his village and being the pastor there. As the pastor later preached, it was obvious that Peter (this guy) also knew the Bible very well. The Bible study, on Leviticus somewhere, was about being clean and pure. Good message, and I don’t think I missed any of it. Then the regular service began at about 8:45. I had a quick thought of getting up and leaving, but Peter kept telling me about some of the things the pastor was saying, like “we are really blessed this morning as we have a white man with us, and this is a real gift to our church, others will see it and it will help us, and he brings us these gifts, and don’t know what other gifts he brings.” Oh wow, I thought that I’d better at least stay for the offering. Well, lots of music, and the man next to me had a very special hymn book (remember he’s a music teacher) with the music as well as the words (in Ewe, the local language, so it was not pronounceable at all, of course). I could, however follow the music and I sang bass along with the teacher, who sang tenor. We had fun. After a rip-roaring, but positive, sermon, with the pastor enthusiastically preaching in Ewe, and another young man, with the same emotions and gestures, repeating everything in French, and my friend Peter giving it to me in English, they finally got to the offering. Cate and Wayne had told me a number of times during our visit that it is definitely OK for white people to come and to go at any time during any activity, I was feeling a little pressure, as, during the sermon, the pastor was telling them (by the way, the church was now very full, and probably had 40-50 kids also) that the Muslims pray 5 times a day, and they don’t even know the truth, and we all have a hard time praying a couple of times a week. We can’t even come to church on time. The white man was here right on time this morning, and sitting in his place in church. I was feeling just a little pressure to stay for the duration. They passed the offering bag, brought it up to the pastor, and the pastor said that we would do that again, only beginning with the choir, we would walk up this time, to the front of the church. I didn’t have any more small money, so I faked the dropping in the bag. I gave a 1,000 note, which is $2. I had a 5,000 with me, $10, but I knew if I did that, they would follow me home to meet my sister and brother-in-law, so didn’t want to over-do it. Enough of church. Sorry. I did have a hard time getting away, as the pastor had told them to be sure to greet me and make me feel welcome, and many wanted my email address, and thought that maybe I could help get their child to the US for school. That part is very sad to me. They want, so badly, to get their children educated, or themselves, and they aren’t too shy about asking. I got home 4 hours after I had left for church.

When I got home, the tailor, Marc, was here doing a fitting for Julianna. He also brought some things for me, and some gifts. He has seemingly been a good friend to Cate and Wayne, and they have been a help to him. When asked for a price the other day in his shop to do these things, he said that he was from Kara, and we knew him, so we didn’t need to worry about that, and he’d be fair. It was the first time Cate had ever made a “deal” without negotiating first. He told me my price first, and it seemed quite fair. When he did D & J, it was actually quite high, and C was very disappointed, but accepted it. Later in the day, when we had a great party, Amy, another PCV said that she had been disappointed in Marc, as he would not give her a price for a dress he wants to make for her, ahead of time. She would not go back to him now again, because of that. It is just part of the culture that these things are bargained for, and discounted, before purchase. C & W probably will not go back to him, even though they have done so much with him, and he seems ambitious, and business-like. One of the gifts he brought was a shirt for me—a very nice shirt, in black, white and yellow. He knew my size as he had made a purple and gold (duh!) shirt for me, at Cate’s request, before I came. I wore it after he left yesterday, and Cate had to agree that yellow is not a color I can wear. I had my “colors done” in the 70’s and I was told that I cannot wear yellow, and since then, it always feels wrong to wear anything with yellow. It, however, is a very nice shirt, and we thought of who might like it, and Tom, you are the one who is going to get it to see if it works for you. Julianna is bringing it home to you.

Actually took my first daytime nap yesterday. Laid down about 1:00, and I was gone! Slept for maybe more than an hour. It had been work listening to the church interpretations, etc, I guess. Made me think of what C & W have been through during these two weeks of listening and translating and speaking for us all the time. That part has been so very relaxing for me, as I have been totally dependent on them, rather than learning myself. All I really learned were the very basic greetings, and left the other stuff to them. Has to be very tiring for them, as it a lot of work to do that, as we all know. They are going to be very relieved when my plane takes off, I think. Dustin and Julianna have done much better than I with the French, and get into lots more direct conversations than I.

At 3:00, we began the FuFu preparation, with Safu, who came to prepare the meal. She is the one who had traveled with us up to Tamberma, and she wanted to do this to thank us—and also she doesn’t like to miss anything. She brought her son to help. We had purchased the yams (hopefully we’ll have a picture of some of that activity) along the road during the trip. They are huge, much bigger even than the large zucchini’s that Sandy Meyer brings in to the office from her garden. Then the pounding began. They cook them, much like potatoes at Thanksgiving, in a big pot, to be ready for mashing. The mashing, however, is a little more of a process than ours. They have an hour-glass shaped wooden container that they put some of the cooked yams into, and then two people stand ready and began some soft crushing of the yams with 5 foot long, 3” thick, poles with rounded ends. Then a kind of hypnotizing sound and process begins. The two people standing on either side of the mortar begin each taking a turn pounding the yams, one by one, faster and faster, harder and harder, same sound pounding the pistol against the mortar, in regular rhythm, over and over again. Every once in a while, they’d stop, dip the pistol in the water (purified for us) and begin the pounding again. Then the cook would come out, and feel of it, add a couple of handful sprinkles of water, and they’d begin again. Haunting sound that we hear often walking around anywhere. At C & W’s landlord’s place, right below us, the madame does this for her husband at least once per day, sometimes twice. After the pounding for a good 10 minutes each pot, the cook rolls it in her hand into a “small,” probably 1 ½ pound roll of fufu, which by now is a dumpling-like consistency. Each of us were to eat at least one of those, with our hands, gathering some of the very good sauce that Safu had prepared. Veggies and soja, a tofu—quite nice, and pretty spicy, but not too much. We watched the guests do it, and that showed us how to do it. C & W had invited PCV Amy, and her Togolese boyfriend, Naya, and a wonderful Togolese couple, (the man works for Kreje, the NGO that C & W work with), and Charlotte, the secretary from Kreje. A big crowd and we had a ball, and lots of good food. Stuffed. Part of the 20 pounds I’m sure I’ve added back on since arriving here. I was actually thinking that I may lose some more weight here, but not to be, with all the starches, and other good things I’ve been eating.

Not sure what pictures we’ll add on to this very long (sorry again) message, but maybe we’ll add one from Cate and my walk the other day, when we walked a couple of miles to a small village, where we bought probably 6 items that people were cooking on the street, for a total of right at 50 cents. The people were very happy to have us buy it, and then we gave it away (not good for us to eat, health-wise) on the way back. Those people were also very happy. Fun watching Cate negotiate them down from 7 cents to 5 cents, etc. It is the way it is done. There is ALWAYS a “first price” and then getting to the purchase price. In fact, in Ghana, where the English is spoken, they tell you the “first price is ______.”

Most of you are asleep by now, from trying to read this, but know that I am doing this so I have a record of my experiences and thoughts at this time, and we end up sending it to you also. Ready to begin the last day here in Atakpame, and Cate is preparing some oatmeal and eggs, and I’m going to get some fresh bread at the “bakery” across the “street.” Love to you all, from all of us.

A trip north...

It is 4:45 AM and the sounds of Atakpamé are alive. The roosters are crowing as they do every morning about this time, and they have a distinctive sound. Wish I could send that along with this message, and project it into your room at 4:30 so you could get that same feeling that we get. The Muslims are also projecting over the loudspeaker, yes, at 4:30 AM, their “call to prayer/worship.” The musical part of it is kind of haunting and nice. The fact that they do this over a loudspeaker, at least five times a day, whenever they want, is a little unnerving. The Muslims are a minority % of the population, somewhere between 35-50% I’ve read doesn’t seem to matter. They are forcing everyone to hear their call, asleep, involved in their own worship or quiet time, working, or whatever. Sounds like, from C & W, that there is a protestant (they aren’t sure what kind of newer church it is) church down the street, that puts their worship over the loudspeaker on Sunday mornings too, and they really don’t like that as the “pastor” is a fire-and-brimstone preacher, and gets really mad at the people, and is not fun to listen to, but everyone within earshot gets to listen whether they want to or not. The sounds must not bother the people as I haven’t heard any complaints. The people don’t seem to be bothered by much at all. They all just seem to keep doing their activities of daily living. I don’t see much else in their faces than joy and happiness. The white teeth really show through, as we wave to them, and they all get this big smile and wave back. Gotta get the wave down though, as waving side-to-side means “hi,” and up and down means “come over here.” We’ve had some fun with that one.

We have had a wonderful three days away from Atakpamé. We have seen some gorgeous countryside, and LOTS of wonderful people. We have also met so many PCV’s along the way. It’s interesting, as we drive through a town or village, and, from out of the crowds of people milling around, somewhere, someone in the car will say, “there’s a white person," and it is almost always a PCV. There aren’t many of us!! We definitely stick out. And also, as we drive in our van, with Julianna in the front seat, that draws the attention of lots of men that yell out, or give signals to, our driver, saying how lucky he is to have “us” in the car with him. I think Julianna has gotten 15 marriage proposals. It takes them at least 4 to 5 seconds to make that kind of decision. It would be interesting to hear about each PCV that we’ve met, as they each have their own stories, obviously, but they all seem to love C & W. We’ve had meals with almost all of them, and seen some of their houses also. It seems clear that the ones working in the SBD (small business development), like C & W, have the best living conditions. That is due to the fact that they work with people that are trying to do “business” which is more in the cities than the small outside villages. The businesses range from selling bananas, to tailoring, well, you get it. The cities offer some chance of running water, and inside toilets, so the conditions are better. The natural resources management people are mostly out in small villages, and their situations are quite different. You won’t hear complaints from any of the volunteers we’ve met, about that though, as it actually seems to me that some of them actually like it the “worse” (from my perspective) it is. It doesn’t seem as if they are actually desiring it, but it is what they expected coming in, so it’s OK with them. They make-do with what they have. It is pretty clear that it is part of the make up of all the V’s we’ve met, that they want to live simply, and without lots of the “things” that get in our way of a simple life. Some of them have gotten rid of almost everything they had, given it away, or whatever, and come with everything they own (which isn’t much—even here). We have met mostly students (and they all seem to be working on some things for their further education), and many are writing theses, or going over to Ghana to take their graduate exams to get into grad school, in many different fields. Others have been stockbrokers, nurses, engineers (guess who?), etc, They really form a community also, and have their own “gossip” and it’s interesting to see how it “gets around.”

Our first day away we visited the factory of Codhani. This is where handicapped people make special cloths, and then into tablecloths, spreads, dresses/shirts, etc. We have many pictures from this wonderful experience, as we took pictures of each and every person, and then showed the pictures of each to them, and they got the same huge smiles on their faces as everyone else that we’ve done that with. Only two exceptions for me, as I showed them their pictures and they didn’t respond at all, just keeping on working. Not sure why they were different, from that respect, until another of the workers pointed out that they were blind! We saw (had one of the ones in charge take us on the tour) each step of the process, from the cloth, to design, to the marking on the cloth, to waxing the parts that would remain white, and not take on the color of the dye when dipped, and then the re-waxing, re-dyeing, rinsing, cutting, sewing, ironing, hanging, etc, with each having their own specific job along the production line. Quite a process, and so much fun to see and then BUY. It was very easy to buy things there, partly for helping them, and mostly because we think they product is very nice. I hope I feel the same way when I get home and look at the items there. No pictures here, as it’s too hard to just pick one.

The first picture is from a quick stop out in the country on the way to Tamberma Valley. There were a couple of kids, and nothing else much, it looked like, for miles. We started taking some pictures, and showing them, and then a few more kids came out of seemingly nowhere, then some adults. One of the women didn’t want us to take pictures without giving them some money, or a gift. I thought of the balloons I had along and put some in my pocket, and thought we’d give them each one. Thus, the picture, dubbed “new toys” by Wayne. Oh for getting excited so much about something so simple. Not to say that our grandkids don’t get excited over balloons, however, as I HAVE seen the same kind of excitement there.

The countryside, which we had kind of expected to be quite warm and dry, was instead, VERY lush and green and beautiful. This is the area of the country that has the Tatas, homes built of mud and sticks, with no tools used, that have quite a history, especially from when it sounds like they started, back in the slave trade days. They are in an area of the country, far away from the coast where the trading was done, and it amazes us to think that “whoever” came all that way to find/steal them to bring back to “sell” at the coast. It is probably a 10-15 hour drive (depending on the road conditions) trip. Anyway, they built these homes, with animals below, and small areas to live (bedrooms?) built in little bubbles on top. They are still doing this, and the homes need to be “repaired” twice each year. The PCV up there, who took us to see the “chief’s home” said that they understand they last somewhere between 30-60 years, depending on who you ask. When the “man of the house” dies, I understand that they take off a couple of the thatched points from the top of the house. There are many fetishes around, and in, the houses, to keep the bad things away. In the picture of the tata, you can get a pretty good picture of what one looks like, and how beautiful the countryside was, and we have lots of other pictures to prove it. It will soon stop raining up there, (we had plenty, but only in the car—and I mean rain IN the car, but never when we were out walking, etc.), and will turn brown and deserty. The rain in the car was one of those extra African experiences. It was leaking pretty badly in 3 places. One over Cate and one over me. We kept wiping up, but it didn’t really matter about getting wet—no big deal. It dries. The driver came the morning after and had put some tape over what he thought was causing the leak. As we drove, and it began to rain, we found out that he had probably repaired the wrong leaks. Then he asked some people where he could find some “scotch” (glad he meant tape), and drove into this village, over their wonderful dirt, rocky roads, and went in to a store, and came out with a sheet of old plastic wrapper. Then we drove to the gas station (did I mention $4-yes DOLLARS-a gallon?), and he started working on attaching the plastic. Many men came to help, and it was quite a process. I had a chocolate frozen Fan Milk while we waited. Ummmm good. They got it taped up pretty good in about ½ hour. The driver gave a couple of them a coin, and they were to share with the others, I guess. No one seemed bothered by it, and were glad to help us—I think they actually just liked being around yovo’s, and especially one being a pretty young female.

The picture of the chief’s wife is one of my favorites. I snuck inside one little area, following her, and took this and one other. It was actually quite clear that she didn’t want her picture taken, but we had paid the chief, and he said to take as many as we wanted (this is a “regular” occurrence, by the way), so I felt OK. He has 3 wives, and we only saw two of them. One said it was OK to take her picture, but had a headache, and wanted medicine from us first. Julianna got a couple of Ibuprofen and she took those. Not smiley people, except for the chief, but very interesting!

Atakpame walks

While C, W, D & J were spending some time making final plans for their trip to Egypt yesterday, I went out for a walk. I went to an area we hadn’t been to see something new—another part of town. Atakpame is definitely hilly and I was up and down hills, in little “shopping areas” and types of suburbia I think. Not a whole lot different, but not as crowded, and to see a Yovo walking along, LOTS of greetings. Kirsten, Sherith and Erik, it sort of reminded me of our trip to China, when all the Chinese would yell out “hewo.” Here it is “bonjour msr.” or cava (pronounced sava). If it is said as a question, it is “how are you, or how’s it going,” and then the response is also “cava” but without the question mark, and then that means “it’s going well,” etc. C & W try to take walks where they can avoid some of the people once in a while, but we are still new, so it’s a really fun part of the walks. Kids come running out from behind walls, doors to say hi.

This morning, Cate and I took a walk together, just to get out. We ended up being gone longer than we thought. Wayne said we left at 6:30 and we returned at 9:30.

It didn’t seem that long, as we had a lot of fun. We walked out to another little village that was 1 ½ to 2 miles from here. The “In-n-out” restaurant is where many of them were having breakfast. Actually most were done, as things start early here, so they can be inside in the heat of the day. We have been wonderfully blessed with the temperature though, as it has been very mild. As soon as we started taking pictures, kids came out from EVERYWHERE to be in the picture and to see them on the digital camera. What joy they show in their eyes, and scream out, when they see their own pictures!!! Most fun part of the trip. On the return walk, we went by a Baptist church and school. There was a sign down on the road about the school, but was hard to figure out, but Cate did, and we walked up to see it. The head master of the school came out and greeted us, and wanted us to see what was happening. As soon as we hit the doorway of a classroom, with maybe 25 kids, they all stood up, and said together “Bonsoir msr” (can you tell I don’t know how to spell missuer?). Wayne says that all the people here love greetings of all kinds. Like he just got a call from a tailor that is doing some dresses for J, and we asked what he called about. He had just called to say Hello. No other reason for the call. Anyway, back to the school, he took us into 4 or 5 classrooms, ages probably 4-9? In each classroom, they automatically stood up and made the same statement, of good day msr. They were as excited as the other children that we had seen on the street, but it was very clear that these were disciplined, but not rigid, kids. They were polite, and sat in their chairs as I brought the camera around to show the pictures. Out on the street, everyone clamors to get to the camera, and put their fingers on where they are in the picture. Cate thought that if I was very careful about giving them some balloons I had in my pocket (probably about 15), so that the kids could not see me giving them to him, that it would be a good place. So, we gathered around the four teachers and the headmaster, and gave him the balloons carefully. The teachers were very appreciative. Not sure how they’re going to handle giving them to the few kids, but that it now their problem. We can’t do that on the street, or we’d have soooo many kids around so fast, and lots of them disappointed. We’ve already had the experience of giving C & W’s domestique two of the Thrivent bouncy balls that light up when bounced. The next day, on our return up our “road” (just HAVE to put that word in quotes!), kids came running. We weren’t sure what they wanted, but I had some balloons in my pocket, so I gave some out. Some didn’t want, or accept, them. We got the idea that wasn’t what was wanted. Cate asked Akpene about it. She said that she had shown the ball to the kids, and she knew she should not have, but was so excited about the ball, she couldn’t keep it a secret.

We are off to a lunch with the other PCV’s today, particularly with the newest volunteers. It is a meeting with them, but D, J and I get to go.

The meeting with the Ambassador didn’t work out yesterday. He had been very vague about his schedule, and an aide called yesterday morning and said that he MAY stop by. Never did, so we’ll miss meeting him.

More later. It’s time to go. We all love all of you. (Kirsten, since I am the one writing, I’ll take this opportunity to make this a private,confidential portion just to you. I love you and miss you lots.

I'm in heaven

Can you hear the music. . . . I’m in heaven? That’s exactly how I felt last night as we experienced what it must be like to be there. Wayne and Cate had heard about the choral festival at the Catholic church downtown, and we got there about an hour late, 8:30 PM. When we arrived, they took us right up front, had some other people move so we had places. We figured out that they were having a mass, we got there just in time for the sermon. I didn’t understand really any of it, nor did any of the rest of us since it was in the local language, rather than French. Then came the offering. That’s where they set out receptacles and then everyone gets up from their pews and DANCES up to drop their money (a coin) for the church. I got some video of that—and, picture this—I also danced up and dropped in my coin, as did we all. Oh, how I wish I could transfer that feeling of inner happiness as they smiled and danced their way to the offering. When Mass was over, they moved us to the middle front, as they moved pews around for the concert—now about 9:00, which was to begin when they got set up. Wow, was I glad we had come late. This sounded as if it was a “first” having both Protestant and Catholic choirs in the same service.

The first up was one of the two Protestant churches. They were dressed in purple shirts, my favorite color-so my expectations were high. The expectations were blown away!!! They began walking/singing up the aisle, two by two, singing a rather subdued melody. They sounded good, sang in tune, etc. Their next song began and I could not put the video down. (I was to find out that I would run out of battery power during the night) They absolutely ROCKED!! I hope the video works and shows what we saw/heard/felt, however, as we all know, its never quite the same as being there. We did take time, when we returned to C & W’s, to look at one piece of Cate’s video, showing one of the members of this choir, coming down and pulling Julianna out from her seat, and having her dance with him, and others. You WILL get the feeling for the kind of night it was!!!! Hope I’ve whetted your appetite to see that one—I guarantee you’ll enjoy it. Kirsten, you’ll understand when I say they know how to do “business” along with singing—and there also is no problem getting them to smile and feel the music. I can’t wait to get home and show this part to some of our friends, especially Howie (our choir director). Maybe we can change some of the things we do, and do more of the O Su mono funghi (or whatever that was).

Then came a Catholic choir, with much the same experience. Then another protestant. Then a very small group, that the crowd wasn’t very kind to. They sang out of tune, and wasn’t easy to listen to, but the crowd just started talking amongst themselves, and laughing, etc. I was sitting next to 3 (probably) high school girls that I was having fun with. Lots of laughing, singing along, LOTS of clapping, as they just were loving all the good music, but they did not like this one, and ladies around them were waving their scarves at them telling them not to be so mean (I think!). They were ALL laughing at each other though. When there was anything familiar being sung, and there was a lot, many in the audience would join in. I just can’t tell you how big a smile this evening put on me the whole night, inside and out.

And, when they stopped singing at 11:45 PM, they started a skit. The president of the congregation, VERY important man, and the one that had told C & W about the festival, came over to us to let us know that it would be very OK for us to leave at that point. We stayed for a little while, watching the skit, but gave up, and left at about 12:30 AM. Walked back home (about 25-30 minute walk). That was the first time the streets were pretty quiet. Still some little “restaurants” selling stuff that we would not eat, were still open, but it was very quiet.

The weather has continued to be quite comfortable, but it is also very humid. So, by the time we get back up the hills, climbing the rocks, we are all somewhat sweaty by the time we get home. Then, at 1:30, we had calmed down enough to go to bed. This was to be a morning we were going to church, for the Assumption service, a holiday here in Togo, but we decided we had mass last night, and lots of spiritual music (we think), so we are just up now and getting started for the new day. This was to be the day that the Ambassador was to come here, but there has been no further information, even after Wayne’s calls, to find out if it is going to happen. Everyone is guessing that is “off.” That means we have the day free. Wayne and I are going over to the “bakery” right now to get some fresh bread/rolls that are REALLY good. I have some pictures of that too. It is just at a neighbor, and you need to know the way in there. I understand that many people come with their baskets, get the rolls/bread, and carry them on their heads around the streets, selling it. We are hoping that it is warm again this morning. When I made a comment that the bread in Ghana wasn’t very good, he reminded me that this is a French country, and the bread indicates that.

Off to the bakery.

French lessons

Hi again,

Only a few minutes until we are leaving for a concert, we hope/think, at the Catholic church tonight. Pre-Assumption Day celebration, which is tomorrow. We had heard that it is a number of choirs, from here, and Benin, and includes both Catholic and Protestant church choirs. The message has changed with everyone we have talked with, however, so we’re not sure what to expect. We also cannot find out, for sure, in which church (Eglise) it is at. We think it’s at the Catholic church, since we don’t really think the Protestants celebrate Assumption Day, when Mary became divine, or something.

Another great day. This morning we watched Akpene (the domestique) deal with her chickens that she brought. In the picture with this email, notice how she is stooped over. She stayed that way for sooooo long, it was amazing. And then she stands, and doesn’t even get dizzy. She is getting a kick out of how much fun we are having watching her do her work. Today Cate once again explained how the salad spinner works, and she was fascinated (but most probably also thinking about how stupid this is) with how it worked, and spun off all the water.

Then we had our French lesson. Good pictures to send from that also. Innocent (the teacher’s name) is a great teacher, very patient, and lots of fun, while being very serious about us learning enough to get by while we are here. He would teach us a little something about greetings, etc, and then he’d walk down the hall and clap. That was the signal that he was at our front door. Then we would welcome him—“entrée”—and then we would each (Julianna, Dustin and I) practice the phrases that we just learned. Welcome to our home. Nice to meet you. My name is________, what is yours. I am from America, where do you live. What do you call ________ in French. I am _____ old, how old are you. Etc. He is Cate and Wayne’s best friend here, and is wonderful.

Then we went to lunch at the best hotel around,which is in another village about 7-8 kilometers from here. The man that took us had planned this for a long time, and it was really nice. Don’t think of the Westlake Hyatt or anything, but, for Togo, it was great. We had salad, eating some of the items, a great main course of Dorado (a fish), with the entire fish served on the plate), with cous-cous and french fries. Fruit cup for dessert. We are eating really quite well, and we just talked at dinner tonight about how wonderful it is to be eating here, with C & W, not having to worry about eating. This man invited his daughter (19) along with the obvious intention of us helping to find a way for her to go to the US to study in a college. Cate and Wayne have also been working with him on some projects, so I “brought along some money to give him to use for helping young women start in new businesses. Possibly $5-10 each, as loans. Actually, it is their money, but they are not supposed to fund as PC volunteers, so we arranged to have it this way.

We are leaving for the concert. Gotta go.

Soccer tournament

It is 8 AM in Apatkame now, and we are finishing getting ready for the day, and will have breakfast soon. Wayne is already off, on his bicycle, to see if he can get another card to get on the email. Our time ran out over the weekend, so weren’t able to send any more email. If he gets it, we will be sending this when he returns. He downloaded a couple more pictures to send to you from our yesterday adventures. We had our “Now the Feast” celebration service right around the table here, with a great altar, sermon from Erik G (which Wayne read with the same enthusiasm with which Erik would have delivered it), and communion. Was it good to have been prayed for by the time you woke up yesterday?

Over the weekend, Julianna and Dustin went to a place where there are lots of kids, filling up their bowls, pans, other containers with water. Actually, I believe it is the only place it is free, and it is part of a park that was a gift a number of years ago, from the Rotary Club of Northfield, MN. J and D asked them if they could put the water on their heads, and it was fun and funny to watch that. I believe that one of the pictures is of them doing that. Both of them spilled some of the water, but it was really heavy, and they did hold it there for a while.

Yesterday we also went to a big soccer/football tournament. Erik, it reminded me of your 4 on 4 tourney at the Staples Center. Evidently there were 12 teams to start on Wednesday. By the time yesterday came there were four remaining. They played each other, and then there were consolation games, and the championship game. This tournament was started last year by the two PC volunteers that preceded C & W. The Cup has their name on it, and we could hear them talking about those two, and about Cate and Wayne, and Peace Corps, and also, as part of the funding agreement, about Aids and prevention, and testing, etc. Not sure, but it sounded like the PC got their money’s worth in terms of time. Actually, it wasn’t funded by the PC, but mostly by the volunteers who are now back in the states. We were seated right in the middle above the tunnel into the stadium, sitting on plastic patio chairs, while all the others were sitting on cement benches, like the stadium at Occidental. We sat next to the “man in charge” and there was NO question as to who that was. George is his name, and every once in a while, he would hiss (a way to get someone’s attention) or yell out, and people knew when he wanted something. He controlled who was on the microphone, whether or not a player who got a red card stayed in or left the stadium, who sat where, took us (all of us) down on the field before the championship game and had Wayne kick the ball between the teams ceremoniously—in other words controlled everything. The other picture is of the championship team—obviously purple and gold—thus dubbed “the Togolese Kingsmen.” I had a new shirt on, purple and gold, which Cate and Wayne had made for me here. Before the final game, when we were shaking the hands of all the players, I brought attention to the fact that I had their colors on, and they responded well. Then, after they won, I wanted my picture taken with them, and thus... the picture. Fun day at the stadium. Can’t wait for you to see the pictures of the field. Not quite like Staples, Erik. Part dirt, part grass, part very long weeds. They were great athletes and seemed to be well coached, and it is the only sport I have seen anyone playing. The kids use anything for a ball, as any real ball wouldn’t last more than a few minutes/hours here due to the rocks everywhere they can play (read... the street... but don’t get YOUR picture of a street).

We also met with a tailor yesterday, at C & W’s home, who is making some dresses, or whatever, for Julianna, and a shirt for Dustin. He was quite professional and obviously had fun with Julianna and Cate. Drawing pictures, translating not very common words, etc. While we were doing that, Wayne was meeting with a man who is trying to develop a solar panel business. Both Cate and Wayne are dealing with the small business area now, and this man had received an invitation to a special conference in New York, and was quite excited to go. They said that they would pay him, and another to go, but wanted Wayne to check out, through websites, etc to see if he could tell if it’s legit. What Wayne was able to determine was that it was VERY likely a scam, where they required them to send in some of the money as a downpayment, and then they’d pay the rest. Probably not so. After their money would come in, that would probably be the end of it. Too bad. I guess that is everywhere. We also met a man and his daughter. He has been waiting for us to come, particularly to see how D and J could maybe help his daughter get to the US and get into a school like UW. That is certainly a big deal here, and they love to have/know a Yovo, so we get noticed. We have only seen 5 other yovo’s here, and two of them were other PC volunteers. It’s interesting to be the minority, but no where near the same as being a lower class, lower income, not respected, held down, minority. We are definitely help UP, not down. We feel very safe walking down the street, day or night, here. Know that we won’t be accosted, etc. We say bonjour as we go, and literally everyone responds with a like greeting. VERY friendly.

Just had an interruption here, as we went out to watch Akpene, the domestique, “do” the chickens that she brought today. Two skinny little chickens that she brought in a cement bag, We took some pictures, and watched her cut their necks, bleed them, take feathers out, and she will cook them for us today. Cate says that there isn’t much meat on them, and they are expensive, and they don’t do this very often, but it is special for us. Breakfast is ready, and then a French lesson, so good-bye for now. Love you all.

First Sunday in Atakpame

The next few posts about Togo are 'stolen' pretty much wholesale from Uncle Karsten's emails to family about our time in Togo. I'm trying to reconstruct as much as possible for the blog posts, and this seemed like the best (and easiest!) way to recount the time in Togo. So, from here until we get to Egypt, the tales will be courtesy of Uncle Karsten's emails...

Good morning. We just had a breakfast of pancakes, with blueberries that you sent, Kirsten. I walked in to the kitchen where Wayne was working on something, and saw him putting different powders, etc in a big bowl. I asked what he was doing and he said he was making pancake batter. We bought a bunch of powder at the Marche yesterday. I took a picture of the lady scooping the powder into one of the black plastic bags, that literally EVERYTHING is sold into, and she was a little nervous. I then showed her the picture and she, and all of her friends or family just ran off and laughed and laughed. What fun that has become!! Taking pictures, and then showing them. They are a little nervous first, and then just love it!! We stopped at a coiffure shop also, with 3 women with really fancy hairdo’s and I asked if they could do mine. They weren’t sure, at first, how to respond, but they eventually got the idea that I was joking. Then I asked Cate to ask them if they would act like they were working on my hair for a picture. We got one, and I think it was fun for them and certainly for me.

You’ve asked about my foot, Kirsten, and I guess I haven’t said anything, but it is still killing me. But, in the big scheme of things, it is something that I can deal with, as long as I have plenty of Ibuprofen, which I am really going through fast. No big deal. In terms of other health, I/we (Dustin, Julianna and I) have really felt good the whole time. VERY different from expected actually. The Peace Corps people that we had the birthday party with last night, asked how we were doing, and after we told them we had been doing very well, they said “Don’t worry, you’ll get sick before you leave.” Encouraging. It has been absolutely amazing to me that I have yet to get a mosquito bite, and really haven’t seen any. We have been quite careful about the time of being outside, to avoid the evenings and morning, etc, but it’s been really good. You KNOW how I hate mosquito’s and how they seem to find me, no matter what, so it’s even better. The weather also, has been extremely mild. Cate and Wayne are beginning to think we’ll go home and think that it is like this all the time. I KNOW that it is not that way, from hearing from all the people here, and, of course, from their earlier emails. It is certainly muggy, but not soooo hot.

We are about to start “church” and Cate has set up the table with a cross, candles, bread and wine, and we have Now the Feast, and With One Voice, and they have a sermon from Erik G. I brought the music for Surely the Presence too, so we’ll have a nice service. We can hear a protestant service going on outside, and C & W really hate the way the preacher does Fire and Brimstone, and yells negatives at the people all the time. 5 times a day, we also hear the Muslim “call to worship” over a loudspeaker. The last one was at 4:00 AM this morning.

Starting the service. More later.

African Travel

Nothing happens quickly in Africa, especially travel! Two days after leaving Cape Coast, and around 15 hours in buses and taxis later, we arrived in Atakpame, Togo... home sweet home for my parents Peace Corps service. In the interim, we had stopped for a night in Lome, Togo - the capital city. We didn't spend much time there, but got in some souvenir shopping. Near by was the main market, a 'real' market where we got a look at how locals shop for produce, meat, dried fish, and just about anything else you can think of.

We also visited a fetishes market, West Africa is the home of voodoo. We didn't end up spending much time there, a few glances at the skulls (ranging from mice to horses) were pretty much enough to send us on our way. The cages full of live rats (available for purchase to sacrifice) sealed the deal, and we were ready to get back to our hotel, an on to Atakpame.

We went to the taxi park to hire a van to take us from Atakpame. Chaos would be an understatement. The definition of taxi park is something like, 'big dirt lot with as many mini-buses as possible packed into the space.' After a little negotiating (a must for any transaction) we had ourselves our own minibus for the trip to Atakpame. The roads were pretty smooth heading up the main highway for the majority of the trip. The last ten minutes were completely different though... the last turn put us onto what could only be called a street by African definitions. We put the driver out of his misery (and us out of ours) and eventually just asked him to stop, and we would walk the rest of the way. There house is part way up a steep hill, which we started to head up. We didn't carry our bags though, because as soon as we exited the minibus about ten kids came out and grabbed everything and starting lugging it up to the house on their heads! They knew that they had a coin coming for their help, and they also seemed happy that my parents had returned home.

Once we got inside we were spent, and after a quick tour of the house and a little unpacking, we spent the rest of the night settling in and recovering from a couple of days of hot and tiring travel.

Castles and Canopies

After a great breakfast of fresh omelets, looking out over the ocean, we met up with Papa (our taxi driver) at 9:00 to head towards town and visit the slave castles. Our first stop was the St. George Castle, originally built by the Dutch, but operated by the British for the majority of time that it was the center of slave trade in West Africa. We took a guided tour that lead us through the dungeons where slaves were imprisoned, the tunnel that lead out to the ships for the voyage to the Americas, and the officers quarters. We were in a group of about 15 people, and it was a different experience for different types of people. There were Africans, Europeans, African Americans, and Anglo Americans. It was very sad for us to think about all the people that suffered, but was particularly more emotional for the African Americans who were with us and were confronted the same steps that some of their ancestors also walked. The experience was both sobering, and numbing.

Following the castle we visited a store on the way out, looking at shirts and dresses. We saw a man there wearing a beautiful piece of Kente cloth - and Julianna told him so! He said thank you, and the shop keeper told us that he was a king. It turned out that we had run into the King of that region, and we enjoyed a short conversation with him. After that fun experience, we headed back out to the street and met up with Papa to head into Elmina.

Back in Elmina we decided not to head to the second castle, but instead spend some time having lunch and walking around the town. Julianna found a great fabric store, where we purchased a couple of different patterns that we planned on bringing back to Togo to make some shirts and dressed with a tailor that Cate knows. A bit more walking around the shops, and the heat started to take it's toll - so we called it a day for Elmina.

After a little debating back and forth, Karsten, Julianna, and I decided we had better make the most of it while we were here... so we opted to head to the canopy walk in a nearby forest while Wayne and Cate headed back to the hotel (they had already done the walk on a previous trip). So, we got back in the taxi with Papa and headed off towards the canopy walk.

On arrival we found out that a group was just about to start the trek, so we got our tickets and joined the tour. The walk starts with a steep climb up a hill to reach the entrance to the canopy walk. At the top of the hill we saw the start of the narrow wooden bridge that headed out into the treetops. We were first up, and headed out onto the walkways, one person at a time. There are about seven spans of a few hundred feet each, and all are high above the ground (at least 200 feet). The views were great, although the height produced the occasional woozy feeling!

Post canopy walk, we got back in the taxi and returned to the hotel to rest up from a long day in the heat (and get some ice cream!). We had a relaxing late afternoon by the pool, looking out at the waves - and finished up the evening with another round of experimenting with the local food on the menu. We were all happy with the new cuisine, and ready for a good night's sleep by the time we finished eating!

To Cape Coast

The next morning Beth prepared some great pancakes, and then we packed up and headed out to Fifi’s house in town - were they had graciously offered to store our bags for two days while we headed north to visit Cape Coast. We dropped off the bags, and then were off to the bus station to find the next bus north. After exploring the station we found some tickets for a noon bus from Accra to Cape Coast. The interesting part was that when the bus pulled up we figured out that there were only 52 seats, although one of our tickets was for seat 53 :) I guess they knew what they were doing, because by the time the bus took off every seat was full, and no one seemed to be left behind. They really pack the people in, part of the reserved seats are ones that fold down into the aisle after all the other seats have been loaded.

Three hours of muggy, bumpy, cramped travel concluded when we arrived at the gas station in Cape Coast. Just outside the bus we quenched our thirst with a ‘Choco Fan Milk’ a frozen chocolate treat from a vendor in the parking lot. One of the big differences in Africa is the proliferation of vendors in most all public places, offering everything from a quick snack to a roll of toilet paper. In the same gas station parking lot we met Papa Yeboah, who drove us to the hotel, and we also arranged to meet him the next day to visit the town and castles.
The Coconut Grove Resort was a welcome reprieve from a hot day of traveling, where we found an air conditioned room and chocolate ice cream at the restaurant. The setting was beautiful; the resort was outside of town, making it fairly secluded - which also meant a clean sandy beach (beaches close to town are generally scattered with trash that has either been dumped there, or dumped into the ocean and then washed ashore). We all agreed that the view past the palm trees, over the waves crashing on the rocky outcrops, towards the horizon was one of the most picturesque we had seen in all of our combined travels. We spent a relaxing night chatting by the pool and enjoying a wonderful meal - and we made friends with our waitress Vida. We tried variations on local cuisine that included a great peanut soup, fried plantains, sole, and a dish called ‘Red Red’ that was a spicy rice with mixed in fish pieces. After dinner we headed back to the room for some rest, with Uncle Karsten taking up residence on the floor in the middle room of our ‘family suite.’ They had told us the room was available, and it sounded nice - but when we had come to the room earlier in the day we found out there wasn’t a fifth bed. They wanted another $20 for a mattress for the floor, which was a bit ridiculous given the price of the room, so Uncle Karsten said he’d be happy sleeping on the couch cushions on the floor!

A day in Accra

Monday morning at the Savannah Inn started off with a quick immersion into our Africa experience. Julianna and I walked out along the beach and met Isaac, our new Rastafarian friend. He showed us his house, played us some rhythms on his drum, and told us about the peanuts and corn they were growing in the sand. Then we headed back to the beach and walked over to the fishing boats. The fishermen had returned from a morning of fishing, and there were a couple hundred people working on pulling in a couple dozen boats. We watched for a while, and then they invited Juilanna to join in and help. It is an amazing process, about 20 men (plus Julianna!) pull on two ropes to the rhythm of a chant that helps coordinate the effort. They pulled in a boat that was 30 feet long or more, up the beach on a pretty good incline. All the men got a good kick out of Julianna helping, and she did good work!
Then we were joined by my mom and Karsten, who were also quite enchanted with the process. When Fifi (the boyfriend of the owner of the hotel we stayed at) also came over then Karsten, Fifi, and I helped with another boat. This time they added a drum to the mix, and I found out how hard the job is, although the rhythmic pulling really distracted from how difficult the work was. Once we finished both Karsten and I got a bit queasy in the stomach from the exertion, and sat down for a while to recover. Then we headed back to the hotel and had home cooked fresh French Toast, which was quite a treat! Beth, the owner of the hotel was quite thrilled to have her first guests (us) and we really enjoyed the stay. Breakfast was sealed with fresh pineapple from a vendor that was walking down the beach. All in all, a great morning.

After a relaxing afternoon at the beach (we watched a movie about a Ghanian man we planned to meet that night) we walked to the main road and caught a taxi into town to visit a market. When we got there we learned that it was a ‘Trade Fair’ and it was the last day for the group of merchants that were there. There were people selling beads, necklaces, cloth, and much more. It was fun to just walk around and watch the people and see the local goods. In some ways the market was ‘authentic’ because it was a collection of Ghanian merchants in town to sell there goods, and not a market that was geared towards tourists (although that also meant it was a little more sterile because it was just a transient group, and people weren’t settled into their stalls and so on).

After a few hours (and some successful purchases) we caught a taxi to the Golden Tulip to meet up for a dinner with Emanuel Yeboah, a man that Karsten had met a few weeks earlier in California at a convention. First though, I got a hair cut at the barber in the hotel (long overdue) and then we had a glass of wine while we waited for them to arrive. In true African style, they got there about an hour late, and Emanuel brought two people with him to join us at dinner. He had an amazing story to tell (part of which we knew from the documentary we had watched earlier in the day). He had been born disabled in a rural Ghanian town, and while usually a disabled child would left for dead, his mother decided to raise him - despite the fact that his father ran off when he saw his disabled child. He bucked all stereotypes throughout his youth, overcoming the disadvantages of having only one leg, culminating with a bike ride across the country that raised awareness that disabled people could be useful beyond begging on the street.

His efforts became famous across Africa, and in the US - and eventually a foundation offered to give him a prosthetic leg. He went on to compete in a triathlon, and continues to do great work in promoting rights and possibilities for disabled people in Ghana. The dinner provided lots of interesting conversation, about future plans, and reflections on his experiences so far (including an appearance on Oprah, and meeting President Bush). At the end of the night they offered us a ride to the airport (to pick up the bag that missed the flight the day before), and then we said our farewells to our new friends.

Aachen to Accra

After four months in Aachen it felt surreal for that portion of the trip to be ending. One last night on the town with Bjorn lasted until 5AM, follwed by a 6AM wake-up to catch the train to Amsterdam. After sleeping through the alarm, taking a rushed shower, finishing the last bit of packing, and sprinting to the train station, I had 5 minutes to spare to say goodbye to Bjorn and catch my 6:19 train. After that hectic start, once the train headed out it seemed like everything was going to work out...

That lasted until the second train transfer. When I got off my train to check the next transfer I found out that the train had been canceled! That created a problem, given that it was 7AM on Sunday and the ticket office was closed until 11AM (which meant I couldn’t get a new plan to the airport). The only help at the station (besides an out of order ticket machine) was a message on the main board that said ‘take the bus’.

I didn’t have many options, because I needed to get to the airport before noon, so I had to call Bjorn and wake him up - and he came to the rescue with a new set of train transfers. That got me to the Amsterdam airport without further problems, but quite a bit later than planned. The next kink in the day came when I tried to check in for my flight and the computer couldn’t find a passenger with my name... after a half hour with the agent we discovered that my ticket was for the next day! (Although my printed itinerary was for the current day.) $200 later they got me on the flight, which was worth it because Uncle Karsten was also on the same flight and I couldn’t imagine waiting another day to see my parents and Julianna. I got to the gate after they had already started preparing for boarding, and met up with Uncle Karsten there. The flight was great, and I even got to change my seat part way through so that we could sit together.

When we landed in Accra I was quite excited for reunions, after two months apart from Julianna, and a year apart from my parents. After I got my passport stamped I headed towards baggage claim, and as I turned the corner - there was Julianna! After a long hug and much happiness, I found out that she had talked her way in to the baggage claim area by making friends with all the people working there. After a couple of months in Africa she had certainly learned how to make things happen :)

We had to wait a long time for the bags to come out, and after an hour we finally gave up on the last bag and decided that it was lost... so Karsten filled out the forms and dealt with the baggage people. Then we were finally on our way and headed out for a reunion my parents! We walked out the doors and I saw my parents right outside behind the cordoned off area and ran out to give them a hug. It was great to see them after such a long time apart, and we were all excited for the next days together.

We wrapped up a long day of travel with a dinner at the airport and then a cab ride to the hotel on the beach. The place was beautiful - right on the beach, we could hear the waves crashing from our room, and most of all, we were ready for a good night’s rest.

Plans

I am now in my final days at my summer home, Bujagali. Even after getting incredibly sun-burned, malaria, an unspecific bacterial infection in my blood, and an infected cut on my foot – I have LOVED my experience here. People here are wonderful – as they are anywhere I have had the privilege of living for any amount of time.

On Thursday, I head to Entebbe. I then leave Friday morning at 5am for Nairobi, then from Nairobi to Abidjan (Nigeria), and finally Abidjan to Accra (Ghana). I will spend Friday night alone in Accra and then plan on meeting up with Cate and Wayne on Saturday. Sunday, Dustin and Karsten arrive in Accra. From that point on, I think that it will be Dustin writing the updates of our Ghanaian/Togolese/Egyptian month-long adventure.

Thinking of you all and so looking forward to seeing you in September!

Final Relections on East Africa

This is my last Sunday in Uganda, here in the safe confines of the Bujagali Falls community. Safety is a funny thing – I have been reflecting on what safety means and how you know you are safe over the past couple of days. While safety means different things at different times, here it means an understanding. I have an understanding of how things work here – when and where to go for food, water, shelter, who to speak with and what to say, how to get out of situations that feel uncomfortable. Understanding runs both ways – I feel understood and cared for here. People in the village know me by name and those at Eden Rock spend long amounts of time chatting with me – I am known here.

But the meaning of safety is context specific. I wonder what defines safety for people in Rwanda – today and ten years ago, for people in Arua, for those in Lebanon and Israel now, for people in New York – especially after 9/11, or for you all in your homes. Safety is fluid – but most of all I think we feel safe when we feel like we have something in common with those in our families, communities, individuals with whom we live – it is in that common human thread that we show concern for others and feel safe ourselves.

For my final reflections from Eastern Africa, this quote seemed to fit. It speaks to the unbearable suffering I have witnessed, the generosity of spirit I have experienced, and the hope for the future we all hold.

This is a call to the living, to those who refuse to make peace with evil, with the suffering and the waste of the world.

This is a call to the human, not to the perfect, to those who know their own prejudices, who have no intention of becoming prisoners of their own limitations.

This is a call to those who remember the dreams of their youth, who know what it means to share food and shelter, the care of children and those who are troubled, to reach beyond barriers of the past bringing people to communion.

This is a call to the never ending spirit of the common man, his essential decency and integrity, his unending capacity to suffer and endure, to face death and destruction and to rise again and build from the ruins of life.

This is the greatest call of all – the call to a faith in people.

~ Algernon D. Black