The Small and Simple Things

 

This is the story of a simple village. It's a story of faith; a story of courage; a story of hope.



These boys are at a farm
about two miles from home



These villagers have come to depend on each other like never before. Even the village elders can't remember a season so devastating. For the last 70 years (for that is how long anyone can remember), the town has flourished. People depend on their farms daily for food and money. Every morning, the people wake up and head to their farms; mothers, fathers and kids -when they are not in school. The women strap their babies on their backs, grab a machete (the only farm implement a farm here needs), and head to the farms. There they spend the day cutting fire wood for their cooking fires, planting or harvesting crops, then they load up their baskets or buckets or bundles of wood and head home for the day. The roads to and from Abomosu are packed with workers heading to or from their farms. Oh, by the way, the men work to, but seemingly no where near the amount as the women! 

The farmers grow cocoa, corn, cassava, yams, plantains, bananas, and oranges. The farms are frequently a couple of miles away. No one complains. Everyone is happy. Here people have the same aches and pains as people elsewhere--lots of arthritis and back problems; but this doesn't stop the daily journey to the farm.

Here, no one has kitchens (except the elders and one or two towns people). The bathrooms are...ok there are no bathrooms. A good home has a latrine out back that will get moved over when it fills up. A well to do villager may even have some sort of a drain field for his latrine. Homes are made with mud, or mud/cement blocks and covered with cement. Usually a cook house is out back.

Chickens and goats run free--free at least until someone needs a meal! They run free, but each one belongs to someone. People go to prison for life here for stealing a goat--so just be careful.

Not long ago, a flood hit and decimated many of the farms. People were left with nothing. The cocoa pods were all rotten. The cassava tubers were ruined. The pineapples were rotten. The corn was gone. The fields were completely ruined.

President Deho and beautiful family relies on their farm--God will provide

The village became an island. Isolated on each side, where the rivers reached up to a mile wide. The water carried with it disease, and death. On one occasion, a body washed up close to town. No one would report it, so it sat for a few days. Here, reporting a body is not necessarily a good thing, because he who reports it is responsible for it--meaning you pay for everything--the funeral, the burial, the mortuary and any other fees that come with taking care of a dead body. Thankfully one of the village elders made an anonymous tip to the police--something like: "is there someone that has been reported missing, because if you should go down by the river near so and so's place there seems to be a lot of activity."

The sanitation system is just wherever you can find a clear spot to go, you go. So you can imagine the problems this causes when a bunch of stagnant water comes in and mixes things up. Needless to say, there is a huge risk for disease.

This is a place where we could have easily seen the worst. An outbreak of cholera would have been devastating. Malaria and enteric fever could have easily taken their toll. But these people were taught to be diligent with hand washing and water cleanliness. They have obeyed with exactness, and they have done well. 

People who may be down to their last few days supply of food, often would try to give some to another. It was not uncommon to see cassava on your step in the morning, and nobody knew where it came from. People pulled together, and people survived. 

Now the water is gone and some of the crops have been re-planted. The crops will soon be plentiful, but for now they still need to pull together. Farmers who have lost everything rely now soley on their faith in God, and their neighbors charity.

what is left of one man's corn farm

We had the opportunity finally this week to visit this village. We were struck by the strength of their women and the wisdom and faith of their men. We were invited to speak at a fireside for the branch members, and were told to expect 15 or 20, but were surprised to find 90 people in attendance. What a daunting task. It was a bit impromptu as we didn't know about it save for a few hours before--and those few hours were busy with other things. Our instructions--let the spirit guide you. Hence, like in every other aspect of our mission we are coming to rely on that spirit to guide our way.

I think the fireside turned out well. We talked of many spiritual things. We talked of diligence mostly to the things they had already been taught (how to keep their hands and bodies clean), so they could avoid becoming sick.

Many of the members only spoke Twi, so we spoke through an interpreter. This went well--I think. It is a little disconcerting when the interpreter is speaking and the congregation laughs at something you had obviously (and obliviously not) said.

The strong women of Abomosu--heading to the river for wash

We spent the next morning visiting the health clinic and now have a nice list of service projects that I think we will be able to accomplish before we leave. There are many small and simple things that can make a huge difference  (Sister Fife's favorite scripture Alma 37:6:  ...by small and simple things are great things brought to pass), there at the Abomosu health clinic--like just finding them an otoscope so they can look in a painful ear, or fixing the Doppler machine so they can listen to a fetal heart-beat, or buying some much needed medication, or getting a glucometer to check a blood sugar.

Whats a blog without another cute kid picture
this is Dominic Deho
he smiles more than anyone, but ask him to smile for the picture
... and all he can do is show you his teeth

I leave this one here for Kelsey and Brooklyn
...get the hint?

We came away, grateful for meeting such wonderful people; humbled by such great faith, and more determined to make our contribution matter.

...Elder and Sister Fife

The Road To Abomosu
I love these K-pock trees!

Food for Thought

Everywhere we go, we hear chanting: "Obruni! Obruni! Obruni!" The farther from the city, the louder the chanting. The kids chant it because we are white. The hawkers chant it because we have money. We chant it ourselves, frankly because it is about the only 'Twi' word that we can pronounce.

What is it that makes one an Obruni? For that matter, what makes one a real Ghanaian? ...food for thought. Is it simply the color of your skin or the language that you speak? Perhaps it’s as simple as the place you were born? It could be, but I think there is something more.  There is one thing I’ve found. It’s more of a rite of passage; a ceremony of sorts that is both ancient and exotic. It’s bold. It’s courageous. It’s a feat that every young warrior must endure; a skill that must be mastered.

A true Ghanain knows how to eat fufu.



Eating fufu is a skill. An art form really. One can’t simply just eat fufu. One has to prepare fufu—enjoy the process. It’s more of a social event. Fufu is very heavy. It is made from boiled and pounded starches. We mixed ours with pounded plantain and cassava.

 

 The pounding kneads the plantains and cassava into a slimy, doughy, blob that is then ready to eat. Usually you put it in the center of a bowl and then pour in soup—goat soup, fish head soup, or grass-cutter soup if you have had a good day. We had ours with rabbit soup. Pounding fufu is not easy. You must pound hard. The boys generally will pound the fufu while the mothers turn the dough. It’s elegant—an ancient culinary dance. 

With a lot of work, most of us can master the art of pounding fufu. Eating fufu is a totally different experience. This can surely separate the true Ghanains from the rest of us Obronis.

 Here’s how to eat fufu. First you must clean your hands in a washbowl that is passed around the table. Next is to plunge your hand into the bowl (there is nothing dainty about eating fufu—if the soup is not dripping from your elbows at some point during the meal, you are not doing it right.) Then you pull a sizable chuck of fufu from the dough and shape it just so. There should be a little indentation to hold the soup. Now plop the whole thing in your mouth.

There is only one rule when eating fufu, and that is no chewing! You have to swallow it. Its slimy and goes right on down if you can get it to the back of your mouth. This is always where you can find an obroni. An obruni will gag, choke, or make funny jerking movements with his neck trying to get the fufu started down the esophagus.

Ghanains also eat Banku. Sister Fife likes this much better. It is made with corn maize that has been processed and fermented. It to is served with some sort of fish or sauce. It feels a bit heavier, so you can almost chew it.

Most of the village homes/huts do not have indoor kitchens, so the cooking is done outside. Many have cooking huts out back where you can build a fire and cook out of the rain. Here is a large cook pot outside of a cooking hut. The pot is a kenkey pot. This is made again with corn, but is grainier and fermented and sored in corn husks or banana leaves. It is sold along the road by many hawkers.

In one of the priesthood lessons we talked about the Word of Wisdom. Only a true Ghanain can say they have spent the majority of a priesthood session discussing how long you could let the kenkey ferment before it is against the Word of Wisdom.

So try as we might, we are destined to stay obroni for the rest of our lives.

We truly do live in different worlds.

...Elder and Sister Fife

Mongo Mongo

We had a much better week.

Our batteries are somewhat recharged, thanks in most part to the return of the missionaries to the MTC. We had a late arrival of the group from The DR Congo. They will mostly be serving in Madagascar. We spent the night at the MTC on Saturday as the scheduled health lecture and immunizations was postponed until late in the evening.

We are thankful that we were able soak up the spirit there. It is quite rejuvinating for lack of a better word.

We had a wonderful opportunity to visit the very remote village of Akyremateng. We had to walk into the village as this is the only way to get there. It is not far, really just across a ravine--less than a mile through the jungle. Down into the ravine, over a couple of streams and then up the other side. We visited the school today. No electricity or running water except for a community well.

As usual, the people are very welcoming. Happy, happy, happy. It was great. Michelle brought along her bag of smile makers for the kids--and was instantly the center of attention. After the trip, she made a comment about perhaps liking the idea of working in the primary--which has to my knowlege never before crossed her mind. This is a photo of us descending into the ravine.

We walked along the bottom of the ravine through the jungle, and through cocoa farms and learned a lot just watching the vegetation go by.

This picture to the right is a bunch of cocoa pods. When they turn yellow, they are ready to harvest. We brought a couple home and cracked one open. It looked all slimey and brain-y. The seeds tasted slimey sweet with the dark bitter chocolate center.

For some reason the kids kept calling me Mongo-Mongo, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Its now what they call most big white men--ever since a very playful, but big white man came to their village a couple of years ago on a service project. So to be known as Mongo-Mongo is not such a bad thing.

Here is a picture of some of the school rooms that are still being used. They are making bricks to build more buildings, but for now there are about 4-5 mud rooms that will be used until the rest of the school is built to accomidate their needs. I spent time talking with the math teacher. He lives in Koforidua and comes to the school each day to teach the children from primary school to high school.

We had a lot of fun just playing around with the kids on their playground equipment. Here again is another merry-go round that charges a battery to light lanterns.

Here is a photo of our group. We came up with President and Sister Froerer who are the president of the West African MTC in Tema. Also Elder and Sister Page who are the Africa West Area public affairs missionaries. We also came with Chris Owen (director of Empower Playgrounds) and Isaac his local employee.

Here is Sister Fife searching for her smilemakers. She brought a handful, but some of the adults took the toys away from the kids for themselves--kind of discouraging.

Of course it is hard to go anywhere without taking pictures of kids.

This lady wanted us to take a picture of her daughter--so we did.

and another photo from our walk--this time heading back out.

Not far from the village is Boti Falls. This is a pair of twin waterfalls that are as beautiful as anything you might see in the movies. We love these little slices of heaven.

We stopped along the way at the bead market in Koforidua. Sister Fife bought some beads. We also stopped along the way at some wood carving shops and spent about a half hour or so looking at all of their wares.



Overall, I would say we had a pretty great week. We are charged and ready to get back to work. We have a very busy week planned with travel and lectures planned for the MTC and with 2 zones in Cape Coast. Looking forward to another great week.

...Elder and Sister Fife