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

A Long Week--And No Green Mamba Anti-venom!

I want to say this week was fabulous; this week just flew by; I want to say I’ve been spiritually uplifted, that I’ve been rejuvenated, and that I’m itching to get started on the coming week.

The truth is, that I’m emotionally spent. I’m physically drained—I’m tired and I’m on a spiritual low. In short, I gots me a BAD ATTITUDE! Sister Fife says it’s got to change. I’m looking forward to that.

Today marks the end of a very long week, and I’m very happy to see it go. We spent endless hours at the office on the phone only to come home each night to spend more endless hours on the phone! There is a lot of serious illness here in Africa; lots of stuff going on. Some things are exciting, some sad, but most are just routine. We are very much looking forward to the return of the missionaries to the MTC (that seems to be our boost) and having the Temple open again.

I will mention a couple of things in this entry, mostly for myself, just so I can have them recorded. Forgive my ramblings, but these are things I don’t want to forget. This week, I was asked to get involved in a couple of area welfare matters. Sometimes these can to be very sad, sometimes uplifting, and again, sometimes just mundane.

I was asked to get involved with a very sick young woman (26 years old whom Michelle and I actually met a couple of weeks ago down in Cape Coast). She took ill a couple of days before we saw her and was being treated in the hospital for what her husband assumed was malaria. (It turns out that half of all hospitalizations are a result of malaria.) Her condition deteriorated quite suddenly and unexpectedly last Friday morning—she essentially lapsed into a coma. Her physician said that she needed to be transferred here to Accra, which has a large tertiary hospital.

Her husband, Stephan, was beside himself because of her condition and because of the fact that hospital fees needed to be paid in advance before any transfer would take place. In her case, a fee of GCD 1000 (about $800) would need to be paid or she couldn't come. This was Friday night. He had nowhere to turn, so asked the church for assistance. That’s when I was called to "figure out" what was going on and make recommendations.

I spent most of the night on the phone trying to piece the puzzle together. The physicians initially refused to talk to me because I was an American doctor, and it was none of my affair. The nurses were belligerent. The family was beside themselves with worry and fright. Financial assistance could not be approved without approval from the area presidency, and this required the report that I was supposed to write. Meanwhile, the husband kept calling me with reports—she is having a seizure and nobody will do anything about it; she is bleeding from her nose and mouth and nobody will do anything about it...on and on, every half hour through the night. I would call and demand to talk to the head nurse or to have the physician’s phone number, but was hung up on many, many times through the night. Well, after many hours of calls, and many prayers, the physician actually called me about 10:00 on Saturday.

The story I received was that she presented to the health clinic in her village initially with a blood pressure of over 260 systolic and that is why she was hospitalized. She had been in the hospital for almost 2 weeks and had only two sets of labs drawn and somewhere along the line had managed to receive four units of blood. She did have a CT scan which showed an "enlarged kidney". Anyway with the few pieces of information we had, it was obviously that she was having severe kidney failure (I think probably from polycystic kidneys) and had developed uremic encephalopathy (the toxins in her blood were too high for normal brain function) and her condition was rapidly deteriorating; she needed dialysis.

This country has 20 million people and 3 dialysis machines! In the city of Minot alone we have 20,000 people and 20 dialysis machines.

I asked how bad it was, and he told me he wasn’t sure. I asked how her creatinine was, and he had to go find it--6.9. I told him that in fact that was very bad. What was so astonishing to me, was that this lab value was four days old...and that no labs had been done since. Hence the reason she was unconscious and not doing well. Un-Freaking-Believable! The way it works in most of these hospitals is this: if a lab test, a medication, an x-ray or scan is ordered, the family immediately gets a bill that they must go and pay. Once the bill is paid in full, and the receipt is in hand, then you can go to the pharmacy and pick up the medication or to the blood bank and pick up the blood etc. If you can't pay, you don't get the service--no exceptions.

The physician then told me they planned to transfer her Monday morning. MONDAY MORNING--are you kidding me? I immediately called the mission President and the welfare specialist and told them that she would soon die if not transferred, and my report would soon be coming. The funds were released and plans were made--but still for Monday morning.

Later that night, plans had in fact changed. Her condition “deteriorated” (how much worse can it get?) to the point that they felt it necessary that she come immediately. They first tried to put her in a private car, but the husband insisted on the ambulance (and this happened), but she was taken off her oxygen and not monitored. She left at 6:00 pm and didn't arrive here until 2:00 am. (The husband called me every half hour along the trip for updates, but could never tell me about her condition.) Once they finally arrived, the husband reported that the doctor came in, put his stethoscope on her chest and told the family that it was too late. I figure she died sometime shortly after leaving Cape Coast.

Now for Abomosu. Abomosu is a fairly large sized village. There are a few branches of the church around that area as well. In that district, there are 10 missionaries and one senior missionary couple. Two weeks ago, they flooded—and they flooded bad.



This is the only way to get to Abomosu

The village elders (70 years old or more) could never remember waters like this. Needless to say the whole district became an island. Isolated. Cut off on all four sides by rivers now a mile wide.  No one knows how to swim, they had 4 people drown the first day.  One young mother was found after two days in a tree with a baby strapped to her back. She spent the time fighting off the snakes and scorpions that were vying for a spot on the tree. We have been in touch daily if not more often with Elder Dalton who is the district leader.

There are huge problems that come with the rising waters. First is the fact that there is now real sewer system and most people just use the ground, hence the water is foul, contaminated and likely to cause major health problems in the days and weeks to come. My biggest fear is a Cholera outbreak. We managed to get water filters to the missionaries along with some medications and supplies. They are set for now. In Sunday school, the topic has been cleaning hands, cleaning water, cleaning food, and just overall sanitation.

Life at home in Abomosu
Thanks Elder Dalton for the Photos

 They have done a great job and are frantically teaching whoever will listen how to avoid becoming sick. Michelle and I will go to Abomosu as soon as the roads become passable. For now, they are doing well. The missionaries are trying their best to stay clean, but they need to wade through the water to get to the farms for food. We pray daily for their safety.

Another problem with the flooding (besides the fact that it has wiped out the entire village's food supply and farms (the yam and cassava crops were decimated), is the snakes and scorpions. They have been coming up and into the yards by the dozens. The missionaries are good at identifying the cobras and have also been staying clear of the scorpions. They have not been as careful with the cute little green snakes however. I sent them updates on the poisonous snakes and scorpions and some are very deadly—including the cute little green mambas and the green scorpions. I sent pictures of a green mamba, and since then they have been much more careful around even the cute little green ones. With all of the snakes and scorpions that were trying to find dry places, I wanted to get antivenin (anti-venom) for green mambas, green scorpions, and cobras to the health clinic, as the closest hospital is two hours away (and that is when there is not a mile of water on the highway). After a day and a half, we gave up. These supplies are very limited here and carefully guarded by the ministry of health. Only the regional hospitals are allowed to have these. (The green mamba bite can be deadly within a half hour, and they would have at least a 3-5 hour trip.)   Hence, our Elders now are on careful guard as they walk around these villages.  As of now, we have a stalk of medications and can treat typhoid, malaria, and cholera for at least the 10 missionaries. I don’t know what we will do if the villagers become sick. We hope for the best.

One blessing that we count on is that we get to come back to our nice little flat each night—it’s a little slice of home.



Ruth's fruit stand just down from our flat



One other little welfare matter that I am working on this week is for this little girl who is about as cute as a bugs ear. She is so beautiful. She needs surgery for a tumor behind her right eye. She lives in Enugu (The northern part of Nigeria). We are on a fact finding mission—again in hopes of getting some funds released for her needed surgery. So far, things look very positive. We remain optimistic. I think she has a neuroblastoma (nerve cell tumor), and with treatment has a pretty good chance of survival.

Our scheduled trip to Nigeria has been postponed for now. The area presidency is out of the country and all travel is essentially on hold until further notice. We hope to get into Nigeria this fall, but we were told that we needed to arrange to visit all four missions in one trip rather than trying to make 4 small quick trips.

The calls keep coming. One Elder this week was in surgery for appendicitis. Another we are dealing with chronic headaches, many with stomach issues. I think our malaria count this week has improved—I am only aware of 3 cases, and one is not responding—I suspect Typhoid. Several Elders from Accra have been in with ingrown nails. I wound up removing one nail entirely. I have been trying to avoid this when possible as I am worried about infection. I gave one sister an occipital nerve block yesterday. Another was in with uncontrolled asthma. One of the workers that is down here repairing Moroni on the temple came down with malaria and responded nicely to treatment. Lots and lots of other little tiny things.

We went out to dinner to celebrate Sister Woods 82^nd birthday. She and her husband are here now serving a mission in the temple. This is their 6^th or 7^th mission. They are awesome. This was the highlight of our week.

Even the temple workers have had a rough week. We’ve had fun watching out our office window this last week as they have labored diligently erecting scaffolding on the temple in order to replace the statue of the angel Moroni. (The scaffolding does not come in chunks, it comes one pole at a time, hense it was a big process.) We even watched them uncrate, and take the new angel up to the first level. After all that work, everyone came away quite disappointed, because the boom that was brought in is not big enough to hold up the angel and it was bending too far to lift the statue up and out. I am curious to see how this gets resolved.

The Temple in Scaffolding



Unpacking Moroni



Problems with the boom

The new angels ascends

Despite all, we count ourselves fortunate. We still recognize the Lord’s hand on a daily basis and are looking forward to a better week.

...Elder and Sister Fife (even though she doesn't share my attitude)

True Men

"...arise from the dust, my sons, and be men, and be determined in one mind and in one heart, united in all things..."

1 Nephi 1 :21 

Today we met 10 true men.

We were awed.

We were inspired.

We were humbled.

 We are so grateful for the chance we had to meet them and see their work today. These guys know the meaning of work. They work on the true frontier of the church.



True Men (with Elder and Sister Bennett)



They live and work in Sunyani. This is a place where just 9 months ago, no one had ever heard of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The church has never been in this area. It’s about as far north as Christians go here in Ghana. Good people. The further north you go, the more Muslim the population becomes.

Again, nine months ago there were NO church members.

These missionaries were brought here (about 8 hours away), essentially dropped off and told—go find members. Teach the gospel. Baptize members. Organize sacrament meetings. Ordain  priesthood holders. Organize sacrament services… Go and do.

And they have gone and done!

Today, just nine months later, there are four church buildings. (Each building has a missionary apartment in the back and a chapel in the front.) There are four groups, and three of the groups are about ready to become branches. Church attendance this last week was pushing 50 people in each of the 4 buildings. A church activity is being planned next week (we were invited) and they are expecting close to 200 people!

Chapel and home of two of the missionaries

These guys find their own investigators—they hit the streets. (There is no such thing as a member referral when there is no members to begin with.) They teach every day. They study hard. They plan hard. Then when the people come to church, they run the sacrament, they teach the Sunday school, they teach the converts how to do everything and I mean they teach them everything—how to conduct meetings, how to pray, how to bless and pass the sacrament…

Essentially they have built 4 branches in 9 months!

After our fireside with them, we sat in on a missionary zone meeting and the conversation goes something like this: “we have to move our baptism to Saturday” and “Ok how about you join us on Saturday because we have two baptisms already scheduled at our building”. It was so fun just to sit back and listen to the conversation. We were star-struck—seeing these guys work. Wow. Can you even imagine?

Sunyani is a place that is spiritually ripe. The minds of the people are set for learning. They as a people already have a love of God. Sister Fife and I toured the hospital with one of the guards, who was a bit upset at first with our requests (because we wanted to take a picture of the hospital grounds to document our evaluation).  By the time our ‘tour’ was over, he—along with another employee asked if they could come to church next week and were anxious to hear the missionary discussions. So we got two more good referrals just by our asking a few questions.

FYI: we hate the roads in Africa—Sister Fife and I will never complain again about our road in Seeley Lake. We've been told that next time we travel to Kumasi or Sunyani, not to go without a truck.

A few times we needed to whisper a prayer to help keep the car on the road and not in the river

On the road to Kumasi

Along the road to Kumasi

Also a plug is needed tonight for Elder Aloysius. I think he is our favorite missionary. He comes from our first full group of MTC “graduates”. He is the perfect missionary. We had the opportunity to sit in on one of his discussions with an investigator (baptized on Saturday). It was so exciting. We were so proud of him—we felt like parents. He’s one of the ten greenies in Kumosi—another city of about 2 million here in Ghana. We are anxious to see him again in a few months.

Our favorite missionary--complete with mosquito net and water filter!
Not all missionary apartments that we see are this clean and nice

Elmina Bay and Cape Coast

Elmina

This week we travelled to Cape Coast. This is west of Accra about a 4 hour drive. We stayed outside of a fishing village called Elmina. The hotel was very nice--right on the beach.

Sister Fife at Elmina Bay

We met up with President and Sister Froerer (MTC mission president) and toured the Cape Coast Castle.

It is a very sobering place—it is a slave castle. This is where the slaves were gathered and kept until they boarded the ships bound for the West Indies and the United States. Countless people died here. Out of 500 slaves that were captured inland, only half survived the trip to the Cape Coast Castle. Out of those 250, only about half survived the dungeons of the castle. Of those surviving 125, only about half survived the slave ships to arrive in the United States.

Elder and Sister Fife at the Cape Coast Slave Castle

The castle's outside wall

 

We followed these kids around all day--we had fun visiting with them

In our history books, we read of the tortured lives of only the remaining 60 or 70 that actually survived this whole ordeal. Millions of Africans from Ghana alone died or were brought into slavery. I can find no other words to describe it but—sobering.

This is called the Door of No Return--once a slave stepped through the door, he never returned to Africa

View from the governors quarters

Elmina bay and Cape Coast currently are major fishing villages. This is an awe-inspiring sight. The boats in the harbor burst with color.

To walk the streets of Elmina is to experience living chaos. The streets are lined with huts and shacks full of lots and lots of glorious people. On your right you’d  see a woman scrubbing a naked baby whose wailing at the top of her lungs. On the left a man urinating into the street and a man cart heaped with supplies being pulled down the street by two very strong young men. (A man cart is really a wagon built for a man. It’s made with car tires and are seen everywhere in Ghana. They are on every corner and usually have the owner sleeping in it—I assume waiting for someone who needs his services.) Everywhere there are shacks proudly displaying goods for sale—sacks of flour or rice, dried fish, breads, bakes, plantains, corn, snails, and clothing. There are people hustling for business, there are people sleeping, people playing, people bathing, people eating, people eying you with suspicion, people, people, people.

We saw an obruni in the village and it seemed really weird. An obruni is a white man—and they really look out of place. Who knew…right?

We had a wonderful experience today while we were waiting for President and Sister Shulz (mission president in the Cape Coast Mission). We finished our inspection of the University of Cape Coast University Hospital and parked our car at a local chapel—which is right across the street from the shore. We went for a walk hoping to kill the half hour of time. We saw another incredible site. A picture just doesn’t do it justice, so I’ll try and describe the sights and sounds.

The fishing boats leave early in the morning loaded with yard after yard of fishing nets. They leave one end tied to a tree and tow the other end far out into the ocean. I estimate the nets to be out in the ocean close to ¾ of a mile.

Fishing boats loaded with nets

Then the end is tied to long ropes and brought back around  to the shore where the young men will spend most of the morning and afternoon pulling on the rope to bring the nets back in. The men sing in a cadence all morning as the pull in the nets.  It’s sung in Twi and it is rather quite beautiful. We took the opportunity to join them, and I helped pull on the net for about 30 minutes and I was WIPED. These guys pull all day long. It will take them six or eight hours to finally get the nets in. It was a great experience. 

Pulling in the nets--an all day labor