Afesheapa!

(That means Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year.. somehow)

Christmas in Ghana was quiet. There were decorations and parties and musical lights being sold out the windows of cars and eating and drinking and making merry.. but not in the way we are used to. The stores were still open, the market stalls, there were still hawkers and except that buissness was slowed there wasn't much to indicate the day.

My childhood memories of Christmas are to a Prespeterian church on Christmas eve where the candels are lit on top of the pews and the air is thick and soupy from the glow and with mint and the anticipation of sugar plums and tortiere and the sermon is peaceful and we all get candy cane raindeer on the way out. They are of waking up on Christmas day at 7 (but actually we stayed up all night because we could hardly sleep from the anticipation) and giving out presents and drinking champagne and orange juice (except I thought the champagne part was yucky until about 2 years ago) and then relaxing and playing with our Christmas toys and sneaking out to show our friends and seeing family the next day at my grandmas house and eating turkey and home baked cookies.

Here, it was mostly people just relaxing with their family, sleeping in and visiting relatives. They say "Christmas is just for the kids- to give them new clothes and something great to eat" but I saw some kids selling 'pure wata' out the window on my way back from town.

But anyways I will write more about Christmas later- I wanted to talk a bit about my day. Today the nuns had me write quotes by Mother Teresa on sheets of paper in kid-marker-colours to hang on the walls by the summerhut. One of them was a prayer:

"The sick and suffering may find in us real angels of comfort and constitution, the little ones of the street may clint to us because we remind them of Him, the friend of the little one"

This reminded me of a very special memory I have from last year- when I walked into one of the churches I was atending and all these kids I never met ran up to me and started climbing all over me and wanted to play. After playing with them for a while I asked the pastor whos kids they were, and he said 'I dont know they are just from the neighborhood- they have been coming here every week'. (They had a dinner ever wed. night to get to know people at the church/ the neighborhood better)These kids didn't know my name. They had never met me- but some how they knew that in that place they were safe- that they would be loved and played with and tickled and carried around and smiled at. Even though they didn't recognize me, they could recognize Jesus- God's love- and knew that they would find it there, regardless of who I was, they knew HIM.

Today, a year later on the other side of the world, I walked into the MoC house and some of the younger girls that stay that ran up to me to greet me. One climbed on my back the other two hugged my thighs as I lugged them back ito the summerhut.I have been playing with these girls for 2 weeks now and until today they didn't even know my name. Come tomorrow I don't even know if they'll remember. And I see them every day- they run up to me and cling to me and know they'll be smiled at and tickeled and played with. Sometimes when I meet kids on the street (which is where these ones came from) They start to cry or run away if I try to play with them because Im forgien and white and scary. But this is something beautiful- that they know the love of Jesus, and so regardless of who I am, they know HIM.

Cool Huh?! :)

:)

ITS MANGO SEASON!!!!!!! YESSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

E-waste

Today I went to Agblogbloshie to watch my friend give a presentation to some local leaders on e-waste. A lot of the guys that live in the slum salvage metals out of toxic waste shipped from the west to sell on the scrap market.

To be honest I didn't really know this was a big problem- I just thought the stinking wasteland was like that, I didn't know it was all e-waste- but today I chatted with a girl sitting on an empty computer moniter as a stool who worked with this metal and I watched a kid chew on a battery last night because he didn't have anything else to play with. Im starting to see how bad it is.

You can learn about it here http://www.pbs.org/frontlineworld/stories/ghana804/video/video_index.html

Afterwards I changed into a dress in the back room of a chicken market and got dropped off at a really nice wedding. Ghana isn't all poverty and grime- this country is really beautiful, and there is so much hope in it- but this "not-in-my-backyard" un-official policy we have in the West has got to stop. We do it for our poverty, we do it with our waste- We hide our emotions and our pain even, for someone else to deal with. I think its time we face up.

My friend was kind of discouraged after the talk and didn't think that it would change much, so I made him a dove our of the info papers he was handing out to remind him that there is hope even in the smallest things. There is hope for all of us.

Deck the halls with boughs of...

bamboo? palm trees? I don't know, its too wierd being in a tropical climate for christmas to say. I proposed to the nuns yesterday that they let me build them a christmas tree out of plam branches for their christmas party on the 23rd and we could hang candies off it.

I also suggested to my friend selina who im staying with that we could have a bonfire and christmas carols and roast the ghanain equivelant to marshmellows over it.

Last night i chased a giant cockroach around my room with a sandel while I was half asleep. It was disgusting and I didn't know cockroaches could fly like that.. esspecially not right on top of you in the middle of the night.

Yesterday on my travels I had another God-given-coincidence meeting which I was super excited about, when I saw my friend Prince who Id lost touch with shortly before leaving Accra last time and had been praying to get ahold of out my tro window. I basically leaped out of the vehicle and ran accross the pavement to meet him. He runs an NGO educating people that will be effected by next years oil exploitation about their righst.

I think Ghana's plans for exploiting oil next year are bound for disastor. The feilds are already owned by international coorporations and there have been essencially no efforts put forward to ensure rehabillitation for coastal communities.

I also think that Canada's oil exploitation and environmental irresponsability is ridiculous. Its bad for the world and bad for the soul. Way to go Harper, way to go. Anyone been following the copenhagan talks? My friend went there for Christmas. I hope that he has stories about dodging police officers from protests when he gets back.

Migration

I forgot how congested Accra was. And noisy and exciting and exhausting. I slept in til 8:30 which was glorious. I am staying with a friend on campus who has the most wonderful family.

Yesterday it took me 3 hours to get to the Missionary of Charity house halfway to Tema and out of Accra. I will be traveling there again today. I didnt mind so much though, Ive always enjoyed being on the road and I am getting very good at reading and journaling on the bumpy cramped up in the back of a sweaty and crowded vehicle with babies and overflowing baskets squeezed up beside me.

I stayed at the house for a while playing with the kids and talking to the women until the nuns whisked me out to an urban strip to teach some kids that congregated out of nowhere and put me on the spot to teach them Christmas carols. I had no idea what I was doing but tried to make it up as I went along. I hope I did okay- when people here say "it was fine" you don't really know what they mean.

I stopped at the post office before I left to pick up the mail that had gotten to me while I was up north. On the way out I met a man named Hardy. It was just a chance meeting, he worked for another program out of the IAS where I was based and wanted to know what I was there for, since classes are closed and most people are out travelling. We got to talking and it turned out he had just submitted his masters thesis last year. On exactly the topic that I wanted to study here.

I got all jumpy and excited and palm-sweaty as we kept on talking. He had done all his research on EXACTLY what I was hoping to do mine on (Rural-urban migration and slumisation), and the very reason I am back in Accra. Right now I am printing out his thesis and next week I am meeting him for coffee so we can talk about it.

Sometimes God is so good to me that I actually can't believe it. I mean it is unreal to me, how He can just plant things bit by bit, step by step in our paths out of NOWHERE and just provide for us exactly as we need. I am quite amazed quite regularily.

Christmas in Accra

It started earlier in this semester.

I was going through a lot of emotions being all the way over here- I was excited and overwhelmed. Accra is a crazy city. I don't usually like cities that much. I don't like the cars and the noise and the traffic and I don't like how impersonal everything is. I don't like feeling like the whole worlds just a giant quest for money and buissness and getting where you want or what you want, and I don't like feeling that everybody wants something from me. I get all guarded and focused on myself and often don't want much to do with anybody.

I was sad at everything that I left at home and It was hard to jump into school so suddenly. I was living in a suburb and all I felt kind of numb sometimes. I didnt know anyone- I didnt really know what I was doing there a lot of the times and I was seeking God so desperately, flailing around that place, but felt like I was hitting a brick wall all the time.

I looked for God everywhere- I went to the edge of the river and the sea and sat on a sand dune and looked for Him there. I ran through the ocean in the giant crashing waves and sought Him there. I climbed up a mountain to look for God there.I even went to the heart of the country and the middle of the city and I couldn't hear Him, couldn't see Him.

But sometimes Hes just waiting for us. Sometimes he just speaks in the tiniest whisper on the tiniest wind and waits for us to just listen to him.

I woke up one morning really early. It was quiet, and the sun was just kissing the horizon. I had only one thought in my head, that I needed to find some nuns in the city. I know, strange eh?! I didn't want to really, I was nervous and it seemed so random. I don't think I had ever met a nun in my life and Im not a Catholic, so why would I go out of my way to find one? But the thought wouldnt leave me so I said 'okay God, if this is from you, please give me a push'. I went to the internet and found the Missionaries of Charity- a group of nuns started by Mother Teresa that worked in the slums of Agblogbloshie. I thought this was really cool- but I still didnt want to call them. I prayed again and the next day I opened the newspaper at 7am over a large cup of nescafe and the first thing I saw was an artical about Mother Teresa. of course. 'okay, You win' I said; and called them the next day.

A tiny small voice picked up on the other end of the phone. I had no idea what to say- I already felt awkward enough, sitting on stump calling some nuns with chickens picking at garbage around me on the red dirty streets. I stumbled over my words trying to explain why I was calling (to which i didnt really have much of an idea). She listened to me calmly and then said "come and see". So I did, and I was humbled by what I saw there. For me it was an answer to prayer.

On monday I am getting on a bus from Tamale to Accra. This bus will take 14 hours and it will leave very, very early. The next day I will start working with the nuns in the slums and I can not wait. I have no idea what to expect still- but I am excited to learn. Im excited to try to not be jadded and I am excited I can learn to love the poor at Christmas, because I think that Jesus is in the poor, and this is a beautiful thing. Jesus said that whatever we did to the least of these, we did to him. This is such a blessing, to see the love of God in our poor.

I always walk by Jesus. I think that maybe if we didn't always walk by Jesus then this world could really change. If we really believed and lived that what we did for the poor we did for Him- it would negate all our obligations of 'charity', or good intentions with bad results, or feeling guilty or overwhelmed or blaming everything on government policy. It would just be the love of God on earth and that would be beautiful. Its something that Jesus called the Kingdom of Heaven. This is comming to us, I believe.

I don't want to be idealistic or pretend that Ive achieved all this or even gotten close- a lot of times I can be absoloutely selfish, a lot of times I don't want to give anything at all.

But my prayer for us this Christmas, for you and for me is that we could remember the love of the poor. That we could remember to give and not just give out of our abundance but to give until it hurts, that we would give everything we have and more and that we could do it joyfully. I want us to be alble to give like this because when we give this way then we stop just trusting in the things we have, our riches and securities and we recognize that maybe everything we have maybe really does come from God, this world and everything in it. And this can bring us to our knees. And we can understand about love, so much more, when we're not so concerned about ourselves- which is a beautiful thing.

So for the love of the poor, and for my heart and for yours, this is my prayer.

Love your enemies- a Christmas Miracle.

I was challenged today about loving my enemies. This isnt something I think about often- mostly because I like to think that I dont really have any enemies. But today it challenged me. Its challenging because its not something that comes naturally or easy- to love those who do wrong by me.

But Jesus said to love our enemies.

He said to pray for those who persecute you.

He said to bless and do not curse. (But it is so much easier to curse!)

He said that we should conquor evil with love- with an unyeilding and uncompromising love. With a love that smiles and radiates joy to whoever we meet; even if those we are meeting are rearing at us in anger and hatered, we should still love them. This is a love that is almost uncomprehensable to me. I actually can't believe it because its so unreal- and its humbling; because I see people all the time who I don't want to love. People who look funny or treat me badly or are just unappealing, or who have hurt someone I love or who have hurt ME. I meet people who just want something from me that I don't want to give and the last thing I want to give them is love. And I see evil in so many measures- against the poor and the opressed and against ME.

But this is something beautiful: Its that Christ didn't die for the 'healthy'- He died for the sick. He died for those who WERE rearing in hatred and anger to him- for the ones who wanted to kill him because of his love, for the ones who put the crown of thorns on his head. "Christ died for the ungodly- very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone migh possibly dare to die." But this is the miricale of Christ: That he died for the ones who put him on the cross- and that is the humbling part, because I know that includes me. "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" And so I am always left standing amazed.

I want to be like Jesus. I want to have this kind of love. I want to turn to the ones who hurt me and give them the biggest hug in the world because of the love God gives me for them.

Because what can evil say to love? It can say nothing. Its like a boomerang of unexpectedness right in evil's face. This is something beautiful- it could bring the whole world to its knees.

on passion and suffering and love.

"The passion of Christ is the victory of divine love over the powers of evil, and therefore it is the only supportable basis for Christian obedience. Jesus calls those who follow him to share his passion. How can we convince the world by our preaching of the passion when we shrink from that passion in our own lives? On the cross Jesus fulfilled the law he himself established and thus graciously keeps his disciples in the fellowship of his sufferings. The cross is the only power in the world which proves that suffering love can avenge and vanquish evil. But it was just this participation in the cross which the disciples were granted when Jesus called them to him. They are all called blessed because of their visible participation in His cross"- His suffering, His passion, His love.
--Dietrich Bonheoffer

Last night I lay in the middle of the field outside my house with a guitar and gazed at the stars and worshipped. It was the best. thing. ever. Gods gift to us is grace and it is. so. good.

A note.

Dear G8 summit that is taking place in the beautiful Muskoka countryside in June 2010:
Here is a copy of your agenda I just came across online:

Agenda: The Policy Summit
Priority Themes
World Economy
Climate Change
Biodiversity
Energy
Nonproliferation
Africa
Economy
Development
Peace Support
Health
Outreach and Expansion
Accountability Mechanism

Here is a list of participating countires:

Canada
France
United States
United Kingdom
Russia
Germany
Japan
Italy

Since you have an entire section of your summit focusing on Africa, WHY don't you have any African leaders present in you talks?

This seems like a big problem to me. It would be lovely if you could please kindly change this so that we could actually speak of something called equality in this world. I have met some lovely African people who I am sure would love to participate in your meetings about them.

Thank you! and best regards.

A concerned global citizen (whatever that means)

2 Corinthians 12:9

"My Grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness"

Pictures! Haleluja!

West Mamprusi

This is where I am currently- an hour and a half drive away from Tamale, up dirt roads and into a small district where my objective for the next 3 days is to assess water and sanitation in the communities of Walewale and Kukoa. I have mixed feelings about this.

One, this experience is purely educational, so besides offering a short report of my findings I am not actually DOING anything to be benneficial to these communities I am interegating.

Two, I am not staying long, interviewing various NGOs, the district assembly and the community, a mixed group of individuals who have to get their water from boreholes and hand dug wells- and I am just waltzing in to talk to them about it? wierd.

But Third, it will deffinately open my eyes. Big time. And maybe equipt me to understand more and thus, do something about it in the future.

Anyways it it beautiful (although very dry and dusty up here). I hope you are all well in the encrouching winter temperatures as I enjoy brutal sunshine in the dry Savannah landscape.

xo

Sunday

I don't always know what to do with myself here. I often end up wandering and sometimes bumping into something wonderful and inspiring, sometimes not.

I like sundays because they always turn out interesting, trying to find a church.
I thought that I would find one sweet humble church in Africa to go to (mostly because I really had no idea what to expect) and join a gospel choir or something, But I have been moving around a lot so usually end up at different ones.

My first sunday here in Tamale I went with 2 of my Ghanain friends and we were picked up by a guy who worked for world vision. Now one of my friends has a job with them.

The next week a little 12 year old girl came to our door and invited us to go to church with her- I thought that this was such a beautiful thing.

This week- I didn't have a place to go so I just started walking. Its important to walk by faith sometimes, I think. So I was walking along and just said "God- I don't really know where I am going but I'd really like to go to churh today so could you pleae please lead me to a place?" The North is predominately Muslim so there arn't a lot of churches around like on every street corner in Accra.

"Despa" (good morning!) I said to a guy riding by on a bike. There was no one aruond as it was pretty early (and a sunday) and I like greating people anyways. He stopped, delighted I was speaking Dagbanli and asked me where I was going. "I don't know" I said "Im trying to find a church but I don't know where one is"

"Oh!" He said "I can show you one I think" He was a Muslim, but wanted to learn more about the bible. "I want to know it well" he said "These Christians, they say that Jesus Christ is God. I just want to know the Truth about him- I just want to know the Truth."

I thought that this was very beautiful. For two reasons. First that usually when I tell people I'm a Christian, they don't want to know "the truth about Jesus"- they tend to want to brush it off or try to prove me wrong or make a judgement and be done with it. I find poeple don't really want to "know the truth" about anything these days. "Whatever works for you" they say.

Secondly I find it curious that anyone would WANT to know the Truth about my Jesus . I mean- there are a lot of people ou there who claim a lot of things. Alot of religions, a lot of revolutionaries, a lot of great thinkers- a lot of things to believe. I find it crazy and beautiful that 2000 years later people are still curious about this Jesus- that people still gather all over the world to worship him, that hes still changing lives (hes changing mine) to this day.

One time I had this guy I barely knew call me over early in the morning because he had been up all night, on his knees, because he felt that Christ was calling him. I think it freeked him out a bit. "He just loves you" I said "thats why he wants you so badly"

After church I went to lunch and had this guy sat across from me. We got to talking- he'd ordered some drinks. He said he wanted to stop drinking. He said he was a Muslim and that Muslims shouldnt drink. I said that was probably a good thing and he should keep working toward that. He also thought that "thou shalt not drink" was one of the ten commadments in the bible. I said this wasn't true. "Jesus came to set us free" I said "not to tell us not to do things" Then he said he wanted to learn about the bible, but to this I didnt know that much to say.

You see- I have a confession. As much as I love reading the bible I don't really know how to talk about it somtimes- what to say about what the gospel is. But I think it is important, what it is about this Jesus, so I tried to write out some things about what it is that as a Chirstian, I believe:

(1) That we are all sinful, and have fallen short in some way.

(2)That Jesus came to bring us back to God- to set us free from the Law and from sin and from death. He didn't come to give us more 'dos' and 'donts' and make us feel guilty- but to really set us free and give us life into enternity that starts today.

(3) That the only way that he could save us- from our rather dreadful and somewhat dismal fate- was to come down from heaven as still fully God but also fully Man, and live a life of love. A life that was Holy, and then die as an attoning sacrifice FOR our sins.

(4) Because I think that we all know that we really arn't 'good' people. I think deep down we all know that we all sometimes have bad motives and do bad things.

(5) But the truth is, no matter how much we get right or how much we mess up- that Jesus MAKES us good, because though he died to save us he also rose again. He rose again so he could lead us, and is still, to this day, calling us back to him.

(6)And I belive that one day he will come again, to judge the living and the dead.

We Christians, we believe some other things too. Like- we believe in the Holy Spirit lives inside us, we believe that Satan is really real and really does come out to seek, kill and destroy. We believe in the Kingdom of Heaven- that we should love each other, that we should love God with all our hearts and love our neighbor as we love ourselves. That the word of God is the Truth.

But even still, being a Chiristian isn't about believing these things, as much as it is good that they are preached. Its really about responding to them. Its just to Love the One who taught us how to Love by Loving us first.

That is it.

Live with the wind in your hair.

Picture this:

The sun is hanging orange in the sky, at that perfect point of not-yet-beginning-to-set; when the day's haze begins to feel a little bit magical.

Sailing through the African planes on a road not quite going anywhere with the gas and gears at your finger tips, the wind in your hair, and passing mud houses and cattle hearding and children laughing and running after you and waving.

Picture riding as fast (or slow) as you want on the front of a friend's motercycle they just happened to decide to lend you for the afternoon so you could joy ride in the outskirts in Northern Ghana... ;)

Poems by Post-Street Children in Tamale

"Poverty"- Issah, 14 years

Poverty, Poverty, Poverty! From almost everybody I hear the word poverty! At home, at the borehole and even at school. My parents, brothers and sisters are we really poor? No we are not poor; what is it that we want to do that we cannot do. My dear parents, do not welcome poverty into your homes; For if you welcome poverty in your homes, It will surely get into your bedrooms. And you will be poor for life. So let us work hard to kick poverty out of our world. We can do this through giving education to our children.

"Reach out to the street child" - Adongo, 16 years

Reach out to the street child. Reach out to the street child. The street child was also created in God's image and likeness. The street child has a mission to accomplish on earth. The street child has a vision for a great future. But why are children on the street? They are on the street because of war. They are on the street because of lack of care and support. What our world is hungry for today is not food but love. So reach out to street children for they need your love urgently.

"Look at yourself first" - Benoni, 12 years

For all things look to yourself first you have all things and you will never thirst. Your land has many things great and good rich soil, minerals and other things, do net go to friends cap-in-hand honey and milk flow in your land don't say grass is green at their feet for grass is green at your feet, you have get all the richest gifts, others have not got half your gift so Rather, mother, brother and sister sell at that you have on my education the fowls, goats, sheep and even the cows, use all that you have on my education and I will make you great in future life is all about investment and there is no better a lay to invest than education so my dear father, mother and sister invest in my education thank you and may God bless and give you honey life to take care of my education.

Tamale

This morning I woke up to the sound of children laughing outside my window. I am living in Tamale now and attending classes again- but with a bit more freedom. It is beautiful up here. The open sky and open roads remind me of the country.

I have traveled from Accra through Kumasi to Tamale to Bolgatanga to Paga right up to crossing the boarder into Burkina Faso- and then back again to Tamale. I am living in a too-big but beautiful house with 8 other students from my program right next to an elementary school. The kids play football in the field every, single day and they are beautiful. Sometimes I go out and play with them, sometimes I play soccer coach. Some of them have shoes and good clothing, some of them don't but they love running around and just the mere act of playing filled them, and me, with so much joy. Right now both of my wonderful parents are visiting a school in Sierra Leone as well, that my Mum helped build on love and prayer. I am so proud of my family for doing this, and am reminded of them often living here.

The North is very dry and very hot. They only have one rainy season and people often drink muddy, dirty water- when it is available. In the 1980s the world declared an "international water decade"- there were supposed to be clean water to all of Africa in that Decade. A lot of money was spent. In development studies, they talk about the 1980s as "The lost decade for Africa"- nothing was accomplished, the projects lie in ruins and now we are half way through the Millenium development goals and not much has changed. But you know the beautiful thing is that hope can come like a spring flower in even the driest crack of mud- and in even the hardest human heart.

Weve visited a lot of NGOs- starting in Kumasi right up to today. Its exhasting seeing so many good groups working so hard and sometimes accomplishing so little. But its the small things that count- even in the complex web of political and economic relations that is development. One drop of love is like a bright dye that changes the colour a whole bucket of water.

In Paga we went to a Crocidile pond (hurray for program-payed tourist endevors!) where we had the giant beasts crawl right at us out of a pond with these little men telling us not to worry, and ushering us up to crouch down beside them for pictures and kiss their slimy, scaley tails. Then we watched them devour live chickens.

From there we went to a Shea butter NGO where the women worked so so hard in the hot hot sun. First they cracked the Shea nuts, one by one. Then they ground them. Then they mixed the the grounds with water and beat them fast and hard with their hands- like an electric blender- in big metal bins in a field. It would be like whipping milk with your fingers to get whipped cream. They beat the mixture for half an hour before it began to foam and made sweet smelling butter, which they scooped off the top and washed and put in jars for selling- at a small small price.

The work was unbelievably hard, but the best thing ever was watching them rest, sit down and smiling, eating kenkey and soup and relishing on a hard days labour. I found myself almost envious- this women lived hard, hard lives. There was no doubt in that, it was a difficult life for them. They were mostly maybe 40 but looked like they were 60. But the smiles that they shared and the laughter was so beautiful. I think, in life, that all we can do is take the lot that we are given- the gifts that and talents, and work hard to multiply and USE them. That is blessed, because there is nothing sweeter than the sweet rest of rewarding labour, there is much joy in this- because life is not always easy, and it is much harder for some. But I still think that we are blessed- if we work hard and we love each-other, as God loves us.

I miss you and I think about you often. Know that I am always sending my love to you- in thoughts and words and prayers :)

Travel

I am heading up North tomorrow. I may be out of touch for a while, but through everything that is happening to me and all the things I am leaning and experiencing; I just want you to know:

I love you. So, so much. You are loved and you are blessed, my dear friends.

Exams

The school portion of my trip is DONE. Which I am SO excited about. Why am I so excited about this? Because now I have time and energy to focus on other things than the massive pile of readings that made me want to cry every day (but were also super interesting). For example: Tomorrow I am going to travel way way out west and spend time on a beach and explore a village built entirely on water and spin under the stars at night because I don't have to go to bed at 10 and wake up at 5 to study. Also I can paint and have tea with Grandma with no time limits and have rap beat battles with my younger brother Larry. Also I have a biography on Mother Teressa which I'm super excited to read and I can put all my mental energy into thinking and reflecting on all the things that God has given me and the beauty and the tragedy of this world. Also I can walk home slow and stop and talk to children and kick around soccer balls in the mud and pick up kids with fofo on their face and twirl them smiling and tell them You are special: Jesus loves you.

It was a day of a million questions. I always try to get the low-down on the streets whenever I go to a new place, as poverty is the first and most pressing thing I notice about any city.

“What do you think about the disabled men on the street begging for money? Do you give them any? What is their situation?”

“Most of them seem to enjoy their situation. We’ve tried to offer them micro-credit loans and get them training in our programs but they always just want the money right away”

“What about the women that sit on blankets with their children? Is it the same or do you think they really need the money?”

“Yes, I think they really need it”

“What about the women that are just resting on the street? They don’t appear to be begging...”

“Some of the women don’t have work, so they carry things on their head for people long distances to make money, like commuters. A lot of the women we have trained used to do this and now have other professions”

I had a lot more questions like this. I was taking a tro from Madina to the slums at Ablogbloshie with my friend Selina, who works for an organization that tries to empower people in the slums by giving them training or micro-credit loans to lift them out of poverty. The slums are one of the things I am most interested in, because I find them so desperately sad and incomprehensible. I was really grateful for the opportunity to check out her work .

In the newspapers, the slums have been talked about a lot. They call them “Sodom and Gomorrah” because of their hellish condition, and the government wants to relocate them. The slum areas are huge. Selina had this satellite mapping system from all the location research they had done trying to track people and areas to address need- they are always changing and expanding. There doesn’t appear to be any plan of relocation or compensation for the thousands of people living there, but the government wants to move them anyway. This, to me, seemed so unfeasible.

“Do you think the government has even been here?” I asked

“Hahaha... I doubt it.”

We transferred tros at Tema station. The only cars that go to Agblogbloshie are really run down rickety things. We got in a big lime green one didn’t look too bad. Walking through the slums was like being in run down, messy market, except it was a tight knit community-- the inner-workings of which worked perfectly together. It wasn’t as dirty or horrible as I thought- I’d always pictured slums as being really scary and inhumane. This one was crowded and smokey and made up of little shanty shacks that burn down all the time, but the people didn’t treat you bad and there wasn’t any obvious or dire poverty. They had schools and bathhouses and places you could cook and do other things- although run down, they were functional. Life was hard but it had a system- people learned to live off one another.

Many people move to the cities to ‘seek greener pastures’ from the increasingly harder life in the country. Often, they end up in places like this. The slums are the end-of-the line places where people go when their dreams have been dashed.
We got to the place where her NGO worked- it was a little cleared area at the back of a half built church which had a table and some benches and enough room for the women to work. On the table there was cloth spread out that they were dying, while the rest of the women were hunched over their jewellery, twisting wires around beads and making all kinds of beautiful things. It was really wonderful to meet them- They greeted me with smiles and laughter and blessings. I made some earrings with this girl named Julie and we taught each other English and Twi and French as we worked. Julie struck me instantly because she was such a larger than life character. Often women in Ghana are pretty shy- but this one had a fire cracker in her. I instantly wanted to take her on a plane and travel around. She seemed like she would be the most fun person to travel with, the kind that was constantly pointing out the window in delight and excitement, laughing and asking questions. The other fire-cracker woman I know is the one that runs my internet cafe. Today she’s wearing a t-shirt that says “GIFT FROM GOD”, sings gospel music all day, and beats the internet-box with a stick to get it working.

I don’t even begin to think that this world’s problems can be solved by human innovation. It’s because we’re always out for our own interests, I don’t think many would argue that. Whenever we have tried to come up with solutions for our problems usually more people end up dying, or hungry, or in poverty. I think it’s somewhat audacious to think that we can come up with some type of magnificent solution to these problems- people just like me and including me created them. Even with globalization and the input of the whole world. The millennium development goals are just as painfully unmet as any other strategy. Often I think we are so caught up in trying to find a solution that we just don’t really understand what the problem is.

I read this really amazing story about Mother Teresa. She pulled this woman out of a pile of trash who was dying, burning with fever. All this woman could say was ‘My son did this to me! I am like this because of him,’ When I read this I thought then that she was going to do something real heroic, like clean her up and lift her out of her situation, like set her up in a hospital or a house with some food and clean water, or pray for her and all her calamity be healed. Instead she just said something simple “you must forgive your son. You must forgive him”. She begged the woman this until she finally did, “with a real forgiveness”. Then she held her in her arms and loved her as she passed away.

I think the problem in this world is not always of poverty, but of forgiveness. It’s not a lack of wealth but a lack of love. A lot of people think heaven is just some place where you go when you die, but Jesus said “repent and be baptized, because the kingdom of heaven is near.” He said this after some crazy looking guy named John the Baptist was declaring the days of the Lords coming. The people must have thought “whatever that means”. They thought this until they met Jesus, until he started teaching strange and beautiful things, like “blessed are the poor in spirit, and blessed are those who morn, and blessed are the meek, because theirs is the kingdom of God”.

Did we forgive each-other? Did we give of ourselves to the poor and needy? (did we give them the time of day?) I think that Jesus made it very clear that when we gave a cup of water to the poor, we gave it to Him, when we welcomed the little children, we welcomed Him. Did we love each-other? Our enemies? Did we love Him? It doesn’t take long for me to get into His teachings to realize how much of a mess I’ve made of myself, and the world of that matter. But I think the point of the gospel is that we can’t do this alone. That even the righteousness of the most righteous is nothing in comparison to the righteousness of God. I think the beauty of the gospel is that that’s okay- that Jesus did it for us. He forgave us, He loved us, He gave everything for us, even as we couldn’t; that we could love him too.

There’s a promise at the end of the bible in the book of Revelations that say that “He’ll wipe every tear from our eyes.” There is a phrase in the book of Psalms that says “He knows every hair on our head.” Isaiah says that “He has done wonderful things, things planned long ago.” Ecclesiastes says “he makes all things beautiful in their time.” Surely if these things are true than when it comes to these unfathomable questions of slums and growing poverty, and hunger, and death and disease- surely if he knows us, if he loved us that much, if he saved us...surely if we love him to, and love each-other (and this is the greatest command), then we can see walls crumble down and mountains move by His hand.

I have seen beauty and love unfold in this world like a spring tree blossoming pale and vibrant petals in the middle of the winter frost. Like a lush stream flowing through a desert. Like a pearl buried in the middle of a dirty field. I believe this is the kingdom of heaven, and that this is a part of what Jesus saw when he called us to “Repent and be baptized, for the kingdom and heaven is near.” This is where my hope lies; Because there is nothing more beautiful, nothing more pure, than this.

Count your blessing.

Some things that I am grateful for...
1. The morning sun coming through my window
2. Little kids screaming their heads off and running after me just to say good morning or hold my hand walking down the street
3. That even when its boiling hot and a million degrees, Grandma still makes me coffee every morning.
4. A strong and able body
5. A beautiful (and attractive!) loving family
6. The local Church
7. Staying up late and watching the stars come out; thinking of wondering exciting things as I watch them. Sunsets and sunrises too.
8. That the ocean has waves to play in.
9. Journaling. Coffee-shop talks and long, late night conversations.
10. That I have been given eyes to see so many things that are so beautiful in this world.
11. Every single breath I breathe.
12. Chocolate. And Chocolate cake. And Chocolate Ice cream. And Coco beans.
13. Clean and fresh flowing water
14. That I can be crammed all sweaty in the back of a car with 20 other people in a congested city and still get where I’m going relatively on time
15. Education.
16. That I know 4 seasons and have seen the snow. Tobogganing (it’s freeing)
17. That I can stand on the top of a mountain and look over all creation and know that God is good.
18. That my Grandparents are still alive, and love me
19. Having adventures. That the world can be a play ground.
20. That I have amazing friends who do beautiful things. I have awesome Christian fellowship. I have people to love, people to pray for, and people to pray for me.

Contact Information!!!

In Accra (Until November 3rd)

Jennifer Knight
Institute of African Studies
University Of Ghana PO. Box LG 73
Legon, Accra, Ghana
West Africa

In Tamale (November-December)

Jennifer Knight
PO. Box 59
New line
Education/Ridge
New Life, Tamale
Ghana, West Africa

Email: sunnfyre@hotmail.com

Stay in Touch! :)

Life so far.

So I thought today I would take a break from writing pages of sentiment and talk a little about what I am actually doing here- apart from the challenging and testing of my faith and long and wonderful discoveries of life and self.

I am taking two courses on African history and development at the University of Legon, in Accra. This is the first place Stephen Lewis came in Africa- he lived on campus and fell in love with country and was here in the exhillerating aftermath of decolonization- when Kwame Nkruma's presidency highlighted the struggle for national liberation and freedom from colonial rule. I am here the year after the successful re-election in Ghana's fourth republic. It is the summer after Barrack Obama (who just won the Nobel Peace Prize) visited Ghana at an attempts to re-afirm American-African relations in the 21st Century, when bad aid and courruption, structural adjustment and desease and poverty has ransaked such promising future prospects. I get to see his smiling face everywhere I drive partnered with Ghana's recently and successfully elected democratic leader, Prez. Mills over the slogan "partners for change" or "Akwaaba!" which means welcome in Akan.

Life in Accra has been paterned by the going and comming to school, markets, trying to navigate my way around the bustling city and avoid being pegged as a walking ATM or a marriage proposal. It's also gotten its wonder though- I love watching the strength of the people, esspecially the women, and they joy in the children. The culture is so deep, yet so intermingled with this new thing called development that everyone, it seems, is trying to understand. So much colour and vibrancy amidst the poverty and the noise creates a culture of contrast. But still things seem oddly familiar- people are not that different, you know.

This weekend I got a chance to explore more of the city. We went in search of guitars and some local arts- and when I was walking past the stinky, open gutters I saw a man walking past me and thought "of course the best way of transporting a table is to carry it on your head".

I don't have running water. I do my laundry by hand. I eat boiled eggs and plantain and yams on the road side. I score through markets for traditional fabrics. I am learning that the world is much bigger than I thought. In Canada Autumn is turning everything to cool colour- but here the sun is still blazing hot. After a week of forgiving overcast weather though I'm set to enjoy some more scorching.

Im not sure what else to tell you- I think of you often and thank God for the love he has given me for all of you. Truely, it is remarkable. I hope to talk to you soon, but, until next time, dear friends, Nyame a shro wo.

Love Jenn

History

I have been working on a pile of assigments lately so have spent a lot more time on the computer then I would like, but also it gives me the privilage to communicate with all of you, so for that I am happy.

Today I was walking across campus- it is beautiful, and thinking of how many people had walked here before me. Legon used to have 600 students. Now it has thousands. They say now knowlege is power. They say that educating the margenalized is going to change this world. I went to the library and walked through shelves and shelves of dusty books, marking the history of this great continent, its struggles for freedom, its opressions. In them are the stories of so many voices we never get to hear in our industrialized countries. In them are voices of violence and pain, liberation hope and peace. When I look around campus there are so many young people bennefiting from the fruits of these struggles, as we do in the industrialized west. Only thier scars are more recent, only 40 years ago there was still colonialism in Africa. But in this bustling city people are still the same- trying to make a living, trying to love their families, surviving in this whirrlwind; and life goes on, God is still good.

This weekend we traveled to cape coast and visited Elmina Castle. It is the largest castle in subsaharan Africa to have partaken in the transatlantic slave trade. The walls were quiet, I felt like if I spoke too loud they would echo the voices of all those who had been there before me. We walked through dungions- where slaves (if they survived) would stay for three months in captivity- bound in Iron and sleeping on eachother, in their own human waste and pain. I stood at the place they call the "room of no return". Looking out onto that sea I wonder what it looked like, years ago, when those captives bound for slavery looked out, did they see freedom? did they see death? But now the sea's resided and there are the reminents of resent industrialization littering the profound view of this raging sea.

Later I walked up to the top of the battiments, and looked out over the villiage. The town of Elmina is colourful, vibrant and full of the hustle and bustle of every day life. Hawkers surrounded the entrance of the castle, waiting for me, and children played to the sounds of drums and pounding fufu as the sun set crimson on the sea. It seemed striking, and the people walking up and down that beach were named "Smith" and "Brown"- with caramal coloured skin from this colonial legacy. And yet life still goes on, God is still good.

Pictures

I want to blog picturesss :( But it is sooo difficult to get done in these internet cafes.
Sorry. Wish I had better news!

Tomorrow I am headed to Elmina Castle, where the slave trade trade boats came through for 500 years during the Trans Atlantic Slave Trade.

Will stay in touch. :)

God is good.

This morning I woke up rejoicing. I have been learning some things. Big time. I have been humbled and shaped and grown and refined. I have been hurting and lost and confused and unsure what the heck im doing in this land that I dreamed of forever but now, somehow, feel so displaced in. Ive prayed and screamed and cried and laughed out loud and beaten my head against a wall trying to figure out what I was thinking coming here, leaving behind everything I knew and loved, all the people that God had put in my life, that I had loved and prayed for and poured into. All the people that might be gone when I get home...

But guess what? My God is Alive. My God is powerful. My God is soveriegn, and my God is everywhere. Which is awsome, and gives me so much hope, and true, true life. Sometimes I like to assume I know what I'm doing-- but I don't. I start to rely on my own hands, I get proud or begin to think that I'm the only one who can get stuff done, get frustrated by other people, get frustrated by situations, get bitter and angry and stop believing that there is something, or someone, greater than me that I am living for.

But I believe that when we get out of those situations, our comfort zone, where we know what we are doing and think we have everything under control, we realize how very little we really know about living, about our own insecurities and failing and missunderstanding. We start to see that maybe there is something bigger here. Maybe its not all about me, and my experience, and my plans, after all.

Luther said that Discipleship is not limited to what you comprehension- it must trancend all comprehension. He said that Bewilderment is the true comprehension, Not to know where you are going is the True Knowledge.

I think thats because then we leave room for God to lead us- for God to go before us, and pick up our rear guard. To lean not on our own understanding but to lean on HIM.

That is the most beautiful and best thing that could ever be. That dispite everything that I think I know- God is there to blow my mind and show me something BIGGER. That when I think things are hard and horrible- that HE uses that time to grow us and refine us- so that through perseverence he can truely build Character- a Character that is based so fully on his love, his joy, his freedom. Jesus came to set us free- but when Im living for myself, im not living in that Freedom.

Thank GOD hes there to catch us. Thank God that he has saved us- that only by his hands this world can witness miracles- and oh, it does. I have- and I can't wait for what he'll show me next.

Widows and Orphans

James 1;27- Religion that God our Father accept as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneslef from being polluted by the world..

Last night I went to bed, tired, and just prayed one simple prayer: "God, please show me how I can reach out to the widows and orphans here" -- In Canada, Ive thought of "orphans' as young people who lack solid family structures and need supportive relationships and a lot of love. I don't really know any widows, and just try to love people wherever I can. Here, where extended families make up a complex social safety net and poverty runs deep into the fabric of society, I suspect things are deffined a bit different, and widows and orphans exist in different ways with different needs.

This morning I came down early for breakfast- so I could read that verse in James and spend some quiet time sipping nescafe and journaling. My homestay Grandma came out to join me and I said "Grandma, what are you doing today?" "oh" she says. "I am a widow, and two of my friends who are also widows started an NGO to reach out to some widows and orphans in a nearby villiage. We are teaching the widows to sew and farm so they can sustain themselves, and are sending the children to school. Today we have a meeting for that."

God is so good. Sometimes I am shocked and awed by how amazingly well he answers our prayers.

Tonight God gave us the stars in the sky and in the sand..

This weekend I went to the place where the Volta river met the ocean. We sailed in canoes up the river stood at the estuary and marveled at how incredible the world is. In the evening the sand shimmered like a trillion stars and got caught in the waves which crashed over us, causing our skin to sparkle and pulling us heart mind and body into the sea.

The next day I climbed up Krobo mountain. Two kids lead us up- scampering up an almost vertical rock wall and leading us through bushes until we got to the top and looked over the vallies, and maveled at how incredible this world is.

When we got down there was a church service going on, in a little palm-leaf hut in the sun, filled with people who had started singing, lifting their hands to the heavens, before we even begun our accent. It was the best thing I have ever seen.

Today I sat at my desk listening to history and development and wondering when lunch was. Sometimes I don't believe these things exist in the same world.

:)

dinner conversation

Right now my roomate and our Ghanain friend, Jon, are having a heated debate about Polygamy and concubines, both in english, but they can barely understand eachother. This is hilarious.

Fun with the fam

Yesterday, I asked my little brother Larry if he liked to draw, he told me he liked to draw cars and prodeeded to show me his drawings. He's wicked good at sketching, but I almost lost it when he showed me a picture of a car called 'sexi ride'

Later, when I was asking my older sister what was the purpose of women wearing scarves over there heads she said "oh, that is just for ugly people, there hair is not nice like this, its all disorganized, so they wear a scarf because they are ugly. Why, did you want one?" She is bringing me home some tomorrow to try on.

Then at church, I was made to stand up as the pastor told the congregation that he would like to welcome the white girls that are here today

The little baby in my family has only smiled twice when she sees me. Usually she cries and hides behind her mother, but im working on it! (hard)

I found out my Ghanain name is Yaa (people here are named after days of the week) This is the least attractive sounding of all the names for the days of the week.

Now, observe.

I often forget I am living in a third world country. So when I remember, it sometimes slaps me in the face. I suppose its because I was always so delicately deffensive of Africa, and Ghana in particular. So many people I knew would tell me to be careful, that "Africa" was a dangerous place, or underdeveloped, or poverty stricken, or that I would instantly get some crazy desease. I also just nodded politely but secretely thought I knew better and that this was nieve. that Africa was beautiful, and diverse, in her own way a lovely place where lovely things happend. Disease and death and hurt came mostly from our lack of understanding, our colonizing history and our ineffective aid that seems to do more damage than good.



That is how I thought of it anyways, I told people Accra was just like any other city, like Toronto, just different. It turns out it is very different. In lots of places there is no running water, and most things seem run down. Lots of children don't go to school- and even in my (very lovely) community, kids wake up at 5 in the morning to set up stalls to sell things like phone cards and peanuts. I don't know what to do with all of this, there are so many things that are different and changing and I can't quite wrap my head around, and so I often feel imobile. I don't understand very much yet.


I am LOVING being in school right now. Its giving me a chance to go from understanding very little, to understanding maybe a little bit more, and I don't have to deal face to face every day with some of these challenges, I can take them one by one, and learn about them academically, but also in my living situation.

You see, I HATE being an observer. Tourists are observers, and I am not a tourist. Tourists like to look at culture from a distance and say "thats nice" or "thats sad" but don't really engage. Sometimes tourists go home and tell their friends of all the crazy, wonderful, or horrible things they observed, but still they just observe. Sometimes im a tourist in my own life, and I hate it. It means that im just testing the water without ever jumping in. It means im avoiding real issues that are immediately effecting me or the world around me. But most of all, it means that Im avoiding God's call to fight for justice, care for the widows and orphans, and give freely, as I have been so freely given.

Im reading exodus right now. Moses was an observer, when we was living in the palace in Egypt, until he saw and realized his own people were being opressed. When he understood what was happening, he ended up killing an Egyptian (we all make mistakes) who was beating an Isrealite, running away, meeting God and leading his people in a historic treck to freedom. Moses was a man of weaker speach, and didnt always know what he was doing, but he trusted God for strength and had faith that HE would do something greater than Moses himself, could ever do.

Sometimes though its tempting to remain a tourist. Its tempting to plug in your ipod and put on your sunglasses and look around like you are looking at life through a tv. screen rather than your own eyes. Its tempting when im uncomfortable with things, or when im just too plain tierd to do anything else. School gives me a chance to observe without being an observer, so bit by bit, as I begin to understand the world around me, and continue to have faith, that God will do something in my time greater than I could ever do.

Footballs and poverty

Last night I went to a world cup qualifier soccer match. I will try to put up pictures eventually. The stadium was crazy- fully of people pushing eachother every which way, screaming and shouting and jumping around. Fans were sitting everywhere, it was impossible to find my seat. I ended up wedged tight between two Ghanains, sharing half a seat with one and having the other one prop me up. The match was exillerating, and Ghana one, which was on the front page of the paper I read this morning at the University.
Afterwards fans spilled out of the stadium and we were thrown into the midst of children kicking cardboard boxes, vendors frying kabobs and selling drinks and candy and phone cards from large bins balanced on their heads. Alot of people sell things like that here, like when you’re in traffick and open a window and throw out a few peswas (cents) for a chocolate bar or passport carrying case or any other assortment of things.
We took a cab ride home, and saw a little boy strewn amoung the traffick asking for change. We met eyes and he came to my window. He didnt say a word but put out his hands. I don’t know why I was shaking my head no, why I said I didnt have anything. I suppose it was out of habbit, or all the books and documentries I read warning me about such things. “you can’t help everyone” people say- or “its a scam, they don’t really get the money and if you give them some it will make their situation worse”. Maybe this is true, but when you look into the face of a little boys poverty, its hard to justify those things. There is something about that his that will haunt me.
Somedays I find it hard to be here, other days it is such a Joy. I know that it takes time to adjust to a place, but its hard to think of the amazing things I left behind and know that all my friends and family are still living in that joy and I have to struggle with learning this culture and figuring out my place in this crazy, crazy world, where really we know nothing.
I know my God is faithful though and leads us through such things. This is a verse I have found encouraging lately, it has helped me through trials before and has been an encouragement to me.
“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverence. Perseverence must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. “
James 1:2-3

Beatiful.

I live in a beautiful place. The roads are red- my favorite colour red to paint with at home, that deep, dark colour that you want to dive into, the colour that covers everything it touches with richness. I am studying on campus- right now learning the local language and starting classes next week. I am staying about a 40 minute walk away with a beautiful family full of love and joy and amazing food. There are 8 kids living with me, two women one baby and a grandma that is packed full of the most love you have ever met. When I was late comming home, she danced when she saw my roomate and I, and covers us with hugs whenever we enter the room.

Last night I sat on the balcony with my roomate, Andy, and we talked late into the night under the beautiful sky.

In the morning our neighbor charles walks us to the cab stand, where we climb in crowded tiny taxis to go to schoo- for 40 cents- in the crowded market place with stalls and fires and cars and people stuffed everywhere.

Sometimes I stop and think THIS IS WHERE PEOPLE LIVE!!! wow.

Home.

It is interesting to be in a place that I am to call home but is not yet home. I suppose every time you come to a new place in life, a new season, it takes time to close old doors and fall in love with new things, new beginnings and new people. Life is so different on another continent, but is also it is very much the same.

I talked with a Ghanain friend yesterday who asked me why I was interested in the orphanage he often visited. I told him that I wanted to learn how to love people better. He asked me what it was like in Canada, to have orphans. I told him people are orphaned in very different ways. That in Canada, maybe people do not have very much, but they have lots of things still, and have access to food and healthcare. In Canada when people are orphaned it is because they do not have very much love. They don’t have parents to support them, or older people to tell them what is good for them and what is not, so there are many young people who make choices that are bad for them, and are left alone in the world, weather they are orphaned physically or not.

Here, it is very different. Maybe people have nothing, but they still have love. They have communities to care for them and take them in, even if there is not enough food to go around, there are people to tell them what is good for them, and what is not, and in the midst of homelessness, there is a home.

In Ghana, and on the way..

I am finally here! The flight was long- from leaving my house in Mississauga to getting to the University where I am staying was about 24 hours, although the plane rides wern't that bad, maybe 12 hours total. the rest was just layover and baggage checking.

We were in Amsterdam for the layover- some of the people I was traveling with decided to go into town, so we managed to make out way, at 7 am (the middle of the night in Ontario) through the city, without a map, ate some fresh pastries, chilled in a park for a half hour and then walked, the long, lost way, back to the train. Total we walked about 3 hours- which killed my feet and back as I was carrying all my carry on luggage, but it was worth it, the city was beautiful.

Now I am in Accra. The city is much like any city would be, malls and tall building and lots of roads and cars. People get around here in Tro-tros; these bus-like vans that people crowd into and a guy hangs out the side while its driving to tell you where they are going so you can hop on. The people are beautiful here- its sunday, so all around campus the students are in the nicest clothing! The girls are either in beatutiful, patterned dresses, or jeans. we have on capris and backpacks and are taking pictures.. i suppose a group of white people looking like that will stand out for a while, but hopefully soon we will some-what fit in!

I just wanted to say I have arrived safe and sound, and will be in touch soon. I will probably have more internet on campus then later in the year, so I will try to take advantage.

Time.

I am going through so many emotions right now, so much doubt and so much hope. Im nervous- which is good. Im not usually nervous when it comes time to leave. I am not ready to say goodbye. Its a wierd time, when you are 20. Everything that happens seems to set the course of your life forever, and it all happens so quickly. It's funny how God works too- two years ago I would have left joyfully, easily, without looking back even once. Now I feel like I have to be ripped away from my life here, so much beauty. But its His time and not ours, and God always makes a way for us, and He'll do it again. I just have to remember.

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you"
-Jeremiah 29:11-13

Dichotomy

Over the last 2 days I have spent approximately $5000 on health coverage, medication, perscription eye wear, orthopedics, sanitation items, travel necessities, proper footwear, a camera, suitcases and academic parafernelia that I will need to go to Ghana, west Africa, next friday.

Most of these items were covered in healthcare plans or expected as a part of regular school fees.

Last week I put down $9000 in tuition payments.

Next week I will be stepping onto a $1,250 plane ride, including an 8 hour layover in Amsterdam which may include transportation around the city and a nice lunch in a European cafe.

A day after that I will be setting foot on the soil of a country where the GDP per capita is $1,500, risk of infecious deseases, particularily yellow-fever and malaria is "very high"- and often without treatment-, you cannot drink the tap water and 28.5% of people live below the poverty line- and food and medication, for many people, is pennies. I will be meeting people who have very little, very often, and will have to be okay with the fact that I will be carrying around and have access to a lot of items and medication that could help a lot of people. If I take the precautions this money has bought me I will never get Malaria, a parasite, extreme diarreaha or Yellow-fever. I will have access to higher education and even if something goes wrong, I will be soon returning to a country where healthcare and social saftey netting is very readily available.

There is nothing that will make me different from the people I will be meeting, but these are the strange dichotomies I will have to navigate over the next year.

When I was little and I didn't eat my spinache, or wanted something expensive, my mom would scould me and say that there were starving children in Africa. I saw tons of different charts and examples all through highschool of how far a dollar could go in an African country- the people were faceless, the cause was faceless, and very quickly it didnt mean that much to me. It was just another dollar, in another jar, and an icecream cone on a hot day would often seem much more appealing. Now that I am packing to spend a year in a 'third world country' these things seem like much more of a reality and what I pack and how I spend my money start to seem very, very important.

Wierd.

True Love.

I have a beautiful life here. This week I welcomed new students to Trent, Swam in the river, unabashedly, almost every single day; worked in a homeless shelter, worked at a youth center, face painted kids at a fair, played the dijambe at a Stephen Lewis foundation fundraiser, went fishing with loved ones, watched a meteor shower from rooftops of churches, biked dozens of km, ran, painted, drank fair trade coffee, shared meals and played football, watched a thunder storm from the roof of a parking garage and played some sweet pranks out of pure love. I lived fully, loved truely, laughed surely, and prayed sincerily. God, I am going to miss this place.

Unfinished lives

Sometimes when I travel to new places, I feel like there are pockets of life that I am leaving behind, unfinished. That the people I meet and want to see grow and change and love, I just leave, and then I never know what could have been had I stayed.

I am leaving behind a girl that I mentor, Sarah (not her real name). Sarah lives in a low income complex with her mom (for now) and has anger issues that are out of control because her family is unstable and she just desperately needs to be understood, desperately needs to be loved. Sometimes I feel like I failed her, by not being there enough, and sometimes I feel like I gave her the world just by being her friend and trying to love her best I could. I guess thats where we leave things up to God, to piece together and take care of the beautiful lives we will only ever see a small snapshot of.

"Maybe this was made for me, lying on my back in the middle of a field. Maybe thats a selfish thought, or maybe theres a loving God. Maybe I was made this way, to think and to reason and to question and to pray. I have never prayed a lot.. but maybe theres a loving God."
-Sarah Groves

The Message.

This is a poem I wrote 3 years ago on a trip to BC.. I was thinking of it the other day and wanted to share it. I called it "The Message".

Why did I not understand?
When I heard your beckoned call knock upon my door so long ago
and said "i will not wait but i will follow you"
but it seemed i took too longbrushing my hair,
drinking my coffee and tieing my shoes
before i stumbled out that old oak door
before the sea
sun and breeze hit me and the seagulls screamed
and i squinted in your general direction
but only saw, bare foot prints in the sand.
you said that you would carry meand so i set out, following
step by step
through the mountains and valleys, unto the sea
its so much harder to walk in your shaddow.
and I wish I had jumped on the boat when you first called me...
I could have seen you walk across that waterand calm the storm
instead of just hearing the wispers while i waited for the rain
to read the writting in the sand
scratched and fadded by time
but still visible...I find the basket left of loaves and fish
12 baskets abandoned on the hillside
you must have known i was comming,
so far behind.I fall upon them ravonously
Ive been walking so long, so hard
trying to catch up and walk beside
And the food has now grown cold and dry
it would have tasted much better in the company of yours
light to see and salt to eat
but instead i sit here in the dark
and try to light a candle
but its hard...when everyone looks at me loathingly,
telling me they're trying to sleepwhen daylight breaks (its sunday)
I try to clean my self up,
i know that youd be pleased
and i find the bassin you abandoned
the water is still cold, not yet luke warm
which means I must be close.
I wash my feet, alone
it would have been much easier
to have done it then with you,
and let you serve me
that i may serve you..
but instead i labour over myself
carefully wiping every bit clean and hoping that i can keep myself nice and neat
for you.
and as I'm walking on
i keep my head down, passivly to avoid getting any more dirty
A shaddow soon falls over me.
I look up thento see the mountain
that they say was your destiny
I scramble up
anticipating
I have been walking so long, so hard!
trying to catch up to walk beside...
but when i reach the summit, all i see
is an empty cross
blood dripping down,
where you died for me
and used to be...
I kneel down crying in the dust
sobbing for my hard pressed loss
that i never got to walk with you
and talk with youand hear your news...
But as i turned my head to leave
I can not help but stop and stare,
amazed
for you have climbed up next to me
to be comfort me, in all my grief
and i stare baffled "it can not be! all this time,you've been by me?"
and you just gently smiled at me and said:
"I never stopped knocking at your door
those footprints didnt walk that far
and when i parted on that boat i called your name as you stood on the shore
but you just would not see to me.
I left you writting, food and washings
and walked beside you, never talking
to see if you would notice me;
but you just kept your head down
trying to keep your feet clean
carefully walking to try to get to me
but i am the last and i am the lost
all the paths of poor you crossed
I was the one you never saw
but how could you not see me?
how could you not understand?
I'd never leave behind my lamb!
but you just have to see me.
Now listen to my message son
the one i wrote for everyone on how you can be saved:
my father kept his promiseand he has raised me from the grave
"God will never let the bodyof his holy one decay"
and i came to forgive you
not just to keep you clean
but just that i may walk with you
that i may set you free.
so never shall you walk alone but listen to my words of hope
and i will plant if you will sow
and heed my call to serve."
and as you held me in your arms
and washed my sins away
i cried the cry of freedom come:
because you came to save

Justice

Right now I am sitting at my favorite cafe in Peterborough drinking coffee and listening to the rain fall gently. It is so beautiful here and quiet and still. August is my favorite month of the year; I love the way the sky hangs heavy and the entire world becomes lush and thick.

This summer I have spent a lot of time hanging out at the local homeless shelter. It's called the Brock mission, even though it's not on Brock street anymore- its on Murray. A lot of people, actually, don't know where it is, but a lot of people do; hundreds of people. I started hanging out there in the winter time because some of the teenagers that go to the youth center I vollunteer at eat there. I love these kids with all my heart and so I started going there to share a meal. It was a simple thing, but to me, meaningful. I would go with a friend or two, and we would pray for the people we'd be meeting and that the kingdom of God would come and touch us even in a small way that night. Then we'd sit at an empty table and wait, sometimes awkwardly, sometimes trying to meet new people, often greeting old friends. By the end of the night the seats around us would be full of an assortment of people, laughing and teasing eachother and smiling, full of food and joy and I would thank God because I knew that his kindom had come to us, even in a small way.

Sometimes after work I would go and bake for the shelter or work on some painting projects we were doing to make it look a bit nicer in there. I realized that as school got out and the summer went on, there were A LOT more kids that hung out there. Way too many. One day when I was serving these giant pies I'd baked, I realized that maybe half the long, long lineup where young people I knew- and that disterbed me.

You see, ive been troubled with the concept of "social justice" lately. Im not quite sure what the goal is. I study International Development in school and we learn about economics and polical democracies and food programs- and then I hang around homeless kids on the weekend, and sometimes I get very different stories.

From what ive seen , mainstream 'social justice' has a lot to do with making people comfortable and happy; it is unjust that someone has to sleep on the streets, so we should get them some food and housing. Vaild. However somehow in this version of 'social justice' it's okay that we tuck people away into the basement of a dirty old building thats in need of a massive renovation, a lot of extra staff and a lot of extra love. It's a victory, really, that 'these people' have a place to go, a place to recieve a hot meal and some freedom.


At the Brock mission, the doors are wide, wide open to teenagers because it is more 'caring'- it is unjust to have them wandering the streets with no place to go. Valid. But I talked to a girl today, she is 16 and has been working with a traveling carnival, but showed up at the mission at 8:00 in the morning to see "whos around" while she was visiting town- its the first place she came. When I asked her who she was looking for she just said "people"- and as I watched her during the course of the day she conversed with older men- in their 30 and 40s- chatting and picking up the latest news. 16 year old girls should NOT be hanging around older men to form thier social groups, but this is one of the many distructive threads that make up the tapestry of 'social justice', it appears, and I see it over and over again.


In this version of socail justice, It doesnt matter if someone is sitting in an unhealthy or abusive relationship for years without ever getting told of what real freedom looks like, it doesnt matter that a health condition that could be relieved with some love and attention and prayer is being left to fester- As long as 'they' are happy, as long as 'they' are comfortable, to whatever measure you and I have deemed acceptable for 'those people' who are living on the street. 'Us and them' can still exists in this version of social justice.


Ive known a wealthy alcholic; but its not really a sin against society until it's an unwealthy alcholic on the street. Then its a problem. Then we need some "social justice". Even in the context of our best intentions, "social justice" is to give money to 'lift people out of poverty'; people who are living below the status quo, who don't have enough money to survive in our society. So then in this version of social justice, the main deffinitive quality is MONEY. Its deffined by how much is consumed, how much is spent, how much is maintained- to save a persons soul.

In the bible, justice is usually talked about with righeousness. If social justice is to be served, then righeousness is an outcomming quality. There is something that connects a righeous way of living with justice- and God LOVES justice. So ive started thinking that maybe we have a very limited understanding of what real justice is. Ive come to think that social justice has less to do with money and making people comfortable, and happy, but maybe social justice is the restoration of a whole person: to themselves, to their communities, and to God. And in this version of social justice, maybe it's not just about a certain demographic living in the "them" category that needs social justice- but maybe social justice is the restoration of ALL people to themselves, thier communities, and to God. Because if justice is just the restoration of a persons wallet to the ways of clean and normal living- if the goal of social justice is comfort and contentment then really a little basement room to be a daytime home to a hundred people in the winter is enough.


"When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, "Will you give me a drink?" (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, "You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water." "Sir," the woman said, "you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his flocks and herds?" Jesus answered, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." The woman said to him, "Sir, give me this water so that I won't get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water." He told her, "Go, call your husband and come back." "I have no husband," she replied. Jesus said to her, "You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true."


I know a girl who might be pregnant with her fourth baby who hangs around the shelter. I think she is 19. Her first three children were from rape, but this one she will know the father. She seems comfortable and happy, and she laughs whenever I see her; but I can't even begin to get my head around the amount of healing and love that needs to take place in her life for 'social justice' to be served.


What if social justice is restoring these relationships? What if when it comes to social justice, in a very big way, or even in a small way, God has something to do with it? Maybe then it could be true that social justice isn't administered by "us" "to them"- but that I need social justice too, that I need to be restored: to myself, to my community, and to God. Maybe then we can see some of the walls that seperate us based on our pocket books begin to crumble down, because they arnt based on our pocket books at all anymore, but our humanity. I like to believe that this is the way it is- that there is something greater we are fighting for then just to make people, even ourselves, more comfortable, and happy. There is joy, and there is restoration, and there is freedom, there is healing. And as part of that, there is something greater I am living for too.

And these things I will miss the most...

So. I offically am beginning to get excited for this trip. It seems so crazy that After so many years of trying to get to Africa, I was even remotely apprehensive to actually confirm my acceptance and go, for 8 month, to Ghana..but it happened. I suppose it is because I am absoloutely in love with this beautiful county of Peterborough and everything in it that i will be so sad to leave. Its funny how a place can claim so many months of your life and miles of your heart without you ever realizing it.

This place has changed me and grown me and challenged me in so many ways. I have met some increidble people and have seen God move in the midst of the most unlikely, but most inspireing situations. When Jesus said "change your hearts and minds, for the Kingdom of heaven is near to you" I often looked at this as something that could never really come to be in my life. Like sure, ill change my heart and mind, but the kingdom of heaven, near to me?? Over the last few years though I have seen unfold around me the incredible, and breathtaking mystery of his kingdom and love just blossoming all around me, like when paint touches the surface of a wet canvas and spreads the most beautiful, bursting coulors. Truely it has changed me forever, and I cannot wait to see what comes of this summer, and then, what is comming next!

Things I will miss most:
-biking through town and the trails by the otonobee river
-the never ending smell of coffee combing the streets
-Graffiti murals
-The Bridge
-the sun comming through my kitchen window at 4:30 in the afternoon
-my beautiful, beautiful friends here (the first regarding their loving hearts, the second, of course, due to the fact they are quite pleasing to the eye!)
-Long sleves and hoodies!

Things I am looking forward to most:
-Warm nights journaling, sitting at my bedroom window
-Ghanain shoulder bags!
-hiking incredible foot hills
-sitting in the grass having long, good talks and playing with children