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 :)