Work Worth Doing

I recently read an excellent book called Atlas Shrugged. In it, there's a very interesting comment made by onf of the characters. Two CEO's are talking about a business deal, and at the close of arranging it, one comments to the other that the press and society look down on them because their only goal is to make money, that thy don't have any spiritual goals, or real interests outside of work. Their work is their main interest in life. They aren't sad about it, but society seems to think it's wrong or warped. Another place in the book, one character asks another "Who is the most despicable kind of man?" He answers, "A man without a purpose."
Usually it's not easy to see our purpose in life. For me, sometimes it's not even easy to follow through on small goals or improvements, much less a broader vision. But lately, I've had a glimpse of what it might mean o live a life of purpose and vision. Or maybe that language is too strong, maybe Teddy Roosevelt said it better, "Far and away the best prize that life has to offer is the chance to work hard at work worth doing." These past few weeks, we've been losing ourselves in work worth doing, and loving it!
The school my In-Laws have established and developed is a beautiful place, I am so impressed by what they have built. Now it's a wonderful experience we get to have as a family as we try to work in it and help it grow. Emmanuel has amazing vision and clarity of thought, I am so impressed with how he work through the daily challenges that are brought to him without losing that vision. I am really seeing his education (both in school and in work) come into play as he shares management and analysis strategies with both family members and employees. Right now I don't really have a job title, but I get a front seat view to see how he tackles challenges as well as try hard to make things easier for him when I can. Righ now I'm also studying Montessori theory and working with Mum to improve the infant school. Right now Dante is enjoying school, and even Iris spends a little time in class with him  every day. It's a very nice arrangement, working at building something we love, and having our children close by. Having Dante in the classroom is very motivating to me to make the school the best I can as well. I still feel the tug at my heart, wishing it could be just him and me at home, but now I tell myself if I can make this a nurturing environment it'll be better for more than just my children.

All around us I see people who are living day to day. I know I used to think I lived day to day back in the States, but here I see it in a stark extreme. Little shops that are struggling to eck out enough profit for the day, youth who want a dollar to buy their lunch, literally living hand to mouth. I didn't really like living that way when it meant I had to wash the dishes every night, let alone start over from scratch every single morning. Here I can see that unless a person moves beyond being OK with hand to mouth living, not only will they not be able to evolve forward, they won't be able to maintain any progress someone else makes for them. I wish I could open their eyes to what joy it is to work at something bigger than yourself, something that will last longer than you.     
 
Funny family update: Lately our story book of choice is Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling, Dante is always asking for either the Elephants Child, the Kangaroo and Dingo, or the Humph! I love these stories too so I haven't minded reading them over and over again. Now we've read the Elephant's child so much, Iris is joining in. She loves the word "Limpopo" and will chime in "Popo! Popo!" every time I read it. Now, whenever I start saying, "The banks of the great, gray-green, greasy..." She finishes the phrases. I love it.

Things to be thankful for...

I'm sorry I haven't written in a while, our internet service has been down for the last week. But we are doing well! Last time I called home and talked with my parents I think I disappointed my husband a little with my complaining. I think I reminded him of a friend that visited him in Ghana who wouldn't be satisfied with any effort to make her comfortable; she just couldn't be happy. I know being grateful helps us be happy, so here are some of the many things I'm grateful for here in Ghana:

1. My family, especially extended family who live close by and I can enjoy their comapny and depend on their guidance to keep the ignorant American from breaking too many taboos.
2. Our strong healthy bodies. No one has had Malaria (been here almost a month and only been to see the doctor once!!), typhoid, yellow fever, stepped on nails, or picked up some weird intestinal worm (actually I probably wouldn't know that one yet). That is very much a blessing, since the medicines are all different from what I've ever heard of.
3. The electricity, running water, air conditioning that we do have, even though it's limited, it's amazing how disabled I am during a power outage, and I'm very glad we only have those once a week.
4. The lovely warm weather, I don't have to worry about getting cold. Ever. Unless I leave the air conditioner on in my sleep.
5. The plenteous food (which I usually am not cooking, since the kitchen staff who cook for the school canteen live in our apartment complex and have been happy to share with our family).
6. Lots of good work to do. This week Dante has been in school and I've been helping with my husband. It's been good to lose ourselves in the vision of where we want the school to grow to. We are so focused on the school here that sometimes I'm tempted to say in the evening, "Lets talk about something other than the school..." but I have a feeling we won't be able to think of anything else to talk about.
7. Reassurance from God that he still knows where we are, what we need to do, and is certainly still available to help guide us...if I'm listening.
8. My kindle. I love that thing. So do Iris and Dante.

And here are some things you should be thankful for:
1. Go and turn on your water tap. Let it run for a minute to get nice and cold. Turn it up to higher pressure and enjoy watching it shoot from the faucet. Fill a glass and take a long, cold, fresh tasting drink. That drink probably didn't cost very much and it was probably very satisfying. And you don't have to worry about getting Typhoid from it.
2. Next time you use a public restroom, feel grateful for the toilet paper available, the soap, the paper towels. Public toilets here are usually missing all of the above here. Most people carry a little bit of soap and toilet paper in their purse.
3. Your public library.

toe CHO bou-tang? (what is your name?)

I have to admit something embarrassing: I used to think people who couldn't speak English were less intelligent than me. I couldn't understand how someone could come to America and not learn English, especially when it is all around you. My only comclusion I drew was that they were lazy or a little bit dumb. Heavenly Father is giving me lessons in being an unintelligent immigrant in sending me to a place where I need to learn a completely foreign language.
"But wait!" you protest. "English is the national language of Ghana!" True, and english is all around me on posters and TV, but Ga or Twi are the languages of conversation, friendship, market bargaining, and the mother tongue for most people in Ghana. As I sit in the courtyard where the cooks make lunch for the school children, English is never used to convey anything that really needs to be conveyed. They translate for me, especially if the conversation becomes heated and I want to know what all the excitement is about, but I can tell the words they use to talk with me have to be called out of memory.

So! What do you do? Some might be tempted to feel sorry for themselves at how left out and excluded they feel when they don't have any clue what everyone is laughing about (and fighting to repress the thought that they are laughing at you), but I'm only doing that occasionally. Right now, I'm trying to learn. Learn the language. I know I can do it, I enjoyed learning Spanish in school, I can definitely learn this. I have many opportunities to hear it (on the radio, in the courtyard, during prayers in church), and several people who don't mind practicing and patiently teaching. I'm really looking forward to the day someone will come in to talk with my husband or sister in law and I'll understand what is going on, or when I ask a question to my new friends and they don't give me the blank, non-comprehending look.
So far I've learned a few simple phrases, and I'm trying to be as patient with myself as the women teaching me. One of the fun things about learning the language is when I do get it right everyone is very excited, to hear this Obroni (white) woman speaking Ga. My teachers are the women who cook for the school. They are in the courtyard cooking (in a totally not FDA approved kitchen) pretty much all day and the best time to learn with them is in the afternoon, when their children have come back from school, the work has slowed down, and I don't feel so much like I'm in their way. I look forward to that time now and review my notes from yesterday beforehand (I don't want to waste anymore of their time than I need to).

There are so many social dynamics that are different here, and even though their presence is not a fact that I can see or hear, it's definitely present. Like the different financial classes that separate people, or how the young people can't just make friends with an old person. I can't help feeling unsure, awkward, or nervous about any interaction with anyone, since I don't know all the rules that govern it. And not feeling confident is a very new feeling to me too. Teaching me humility. Teaching me empathy. Teaching me to work hard and rely on Heavenly Father.

The snowballs' chance in H-E-double-hockey-stick

There are so many things to write about, I'm not sure which to start with; the heat, the Hammattan winds, the kind people, the languages, the way they are spoiling me, every topic needs it's own post. We'll have to do a couple of posts per week until I get used to everything and the newness wears away. Hopefully I don't pepper my followers too much these next few weeks, sorry everyone!

Lets talk about heat first, since it dominated most of my thinking last week. Here's some basic info on the weather in Ghana.

 Here are the top 5 things I like about the heat in Ghana:
5. You can depend upon it. This is not like the weather in Idaho, where if you don't like it, wait five minutes and it'll change. This is weather that's pretty much consistent all day, and all week.  It's also not like the sunshine in Idaho, where you look outside and notice how beautiful and sunny everything is and decide to take the children for a walk, only to actually walk around the corner and feel the cold wind, making you wish you'd ignored the sunshine and bundled everyone well. This sunshine is hot. Always. It makes choosing what to wear very simple: preferably as little as possible. If you can't sit around in your underwear, go for something loose, thin, billowy. Helps wick away the sweat that trickles down your neck, back, thighs, and underarms. Emmanuel mentioned some places in Ghana, during certain times of the year it'll cool down and I'll want a sweater or jacket, so I packed some of my cold weather clothes too. I'm not sure I believe him anymore. I have a feeling I will never ever shiver in this country. Maybe a local will shiver if it get down to 65 degrees...but not me. I'm giving the sweaters away.

4. It encourages good hygiene! I used to get kind of lax when it came to bathing the children; back in the States I'd let them go a few days between baths; they just didn't get dirty. But here, the heat and high humidity make me want to bathe twice, maybe three times a day, so they get bathed a lot more too. Which they probably need, since they're more exposed to dirt and germs here.

3. There are cosmetic benefits. The moisture is great for my skin (no more dry chapped hands, sorry moms in Idaho!). And really, I kind of like humidity, it feels better to me than a blistering dry desert heat. Dante and Iris look better too, since their hair seems to recognize it's homeland and has curled into tight little curls. In Idaho I could only accomplish that right after they'd had their baths and it didn't even last all day. They get cuter all the time.

2.It produces delicious tropical fruit! Mangos, pineapples, plantain, bananas, avocado, watermelon, limes, papaya, all kinds of yummy things. All available from your local street hawker as they carry the fruits down the street, balanced in a bowl on their heads. Amazing.

This hawker is selling bread rolls. That's a bus there next to her, called a "Tro-Tro."

1. I'm getting used to it. Slowly but surely, finding a way to cool down doesn't dominate my motives the way it used to.

The other night I actually felt cool and comfortable even. Then when I woke up and triumphantly boasted how well I'm adapting, Marion (my Sister in Law) told me it was the Hammattan wind blowing through the country that came late this year. I guess this isn't the hottest month. Those months are coming...


Fortunately I'm blessed with a refrigerator, freezer, and air conditioner, and sun screen, so I really have nothing to complain about!

You are welcome!

Don't read that title like the phrase you say after someone says "Thank you." This isn't the same thing. This is what everyone keeps saying to me here in Ghana! You are welcome. Even people I just meet in passing. You are welcome. And they mean it it, they are happy I am here. It's a very open, un-pretending kind of welcome. And we are happy to be here too!

We had the most perfect flight(s) over, it was really an answer to prayer. I was more nervous about the cross-Atlantic journey than I was nervous about dehydration. I'd prepared a few toys (shout out to Nikki Long, she showed me the awesome-est non-messy, non-noisy, entertain-for-at-least-15-minutes toy. I made two.), packed books and crayons, snacks and empty water bottles, even a couple of movies. I only felt mildly prepared.

We had packed our suitcases sooooo carefully, weighed them compulsively at times. I prayed and prayed that our check in would go well and we wouldn't find a huge hidden cost for transporting our extra bags (we knew it would be a huge extra cost already, but I didn't want it to be different than we expected. Unless it was lower.).

We had checked our travel documents carefully, comparing them to the website for traveling in Ghana, making sure our visas were in order, our immunizations were obviously correct, our passports matching our tickets. We didn't want there to be any reason for confusion (or supposed confusion).

Right before we left we all had priesthood blessings, even Emmanuel. Since his dad was with us he gave Emmanuel and I blessings, and Emmanuel gave blessings to the children. They were beautiful blessings, promising us safety and care during our trip, and success when we arrived in Ghana. I felt Dad was in a pretty special position to give that blessing to Emmanuel, since Emmanuel is kind of the successor for mom and dad. Kind of reminded me of the way a prophet used to anoint the kings of Israel.

And the blessings were fulfilled! We arrived at the airport with plenty of time, which is good because the check in was long (although uneventful). All the tickets were found without trouble. All the bags were weighed and the airport agent allowed it to be within 1 lb, so we only had to move around a couple of things from one or two bags, they cost just what we had expected,  Iris slept on my back through the whole process and Dante was very patient!

 Then we went over to security, and because of our two children they let us cut to the front of the line!! I felt guilty for about two seconds, but then reasoned that no one would've liked to hear the children crying for half an hour as we waited in line. We went through security very easily (I didn't have to unwrap the sleeping baby!), and nothing in our bags was rejected and thrown away. After that we still had enough time to stroll calmly to our gate, wait and play a minute at a little playground (I love the Salt Lake airport for having those) before we boarded for our flight. The flights went pretty well, the kids didn't bother each other too much (somehow it worked out that on the flight Iris was awake and played, and Dante slept, then during layovers Dante was awake while Iris slept. What a blessing!) There weren't any problems with losing children or toys, we didn't sit next to any anti-children snobs, the kids didn't fuss too much about being hungry or thirsty...the only rough spots were landings, since the gradual descent made their ears so uncomfortable. Fortunately I was prepared with Lollipops! (another grateful shout out to Nikki Long....they were just the right thing!) In fact, when we ran out of lollipops early in the trip I felt we needed them so badly I bought a small bag from an airport shop. For 8 bucks! I could't believe it. But! They were worth it.

The final flight was the hardest on me, but the kids slept from beginning to end. By that time I was tired but my brain wouldn't rest; the fears wouldn't stop. My biggest fear was that I wouldn't have a friend here. That I'd be lonely. Seems silly now that I look back, thinking about the wonderful people here that are accepting, kind, and fun to be around. But I guess that's how fears are, not rational, usually unfounded, and only stemming from something that I know is important to me.

We had to drive through the busy city of Accra! 

Customs and picking up our bags were so good, I was starting to believe I was in a dream, everything had just gone too smoothly. But truly, we were finally in Ghana. We were walking through the airport. We were giving hugs and hellos to Emmanuel's family members! We were driving home! It was wonderful. What a blessing. Dante still occasionally asks me, "Are we going to Ghana today?" I have to laugh and tell him, "We are here!!"

Don't worry, I know I haven't actually talked much about what Ghana is like. I will start writing about what I see here soon!

The little children stare at me and the kids a lot...I guess it's my turn to be the sore thumb!

All you need is stuff....wah wah nan na na

Right now we're about four hours away from checking in for our flight and I'm not really sleeping, just processing silly worries. So, while we're waiting, here's a post I've been wanting to write for a couple of months actually. Anyone who's been around me lately knows I have good reason for it to be on my mind, and they are probably sick of hearing me talk about it. Sorry friends, I won't be offended if you skip this post...it's about stuff.

How much stuff do you have? Why do we have so much of it? What do we do with it when we don't need it anymore? How do we know if we don't need it anymore? My husband built a program last year that helps you make decisions (big decisions, like what should I study in school, or which job should I take), maybe I should suggest he make a program that helps you determine if you need to hang onto something for a while longer. Collapsible child's booster seat? OK, you might need that again...Shampoo you don't like?? You can throw that away without feeling guilty... Stickers??? Stuff that into the carry-on, the kids love those! Maybe it could even help you know how much it would cost and if it's available in foreign countries....I could've used that program a lot this month. We've been packing. And this time it's not packing to fill a 10 fit container for shipment, it's packing into suitcases that only stretch so much and always exceed 50 lbs much faster than you expect.

Our baggage on the airplane (since it's international) is two free suitcases, 50 lbs each, per ticket. Iris doesn't have her own seat, so that means we can bring 300 lbs of stuff, plus whatever we can cram into our carry-ons. That sounds like a lot (like when I'd hear in Sunday School about the Mormon pioneers who could bring 18 lbs of stuff), but believe me, it's not. It's our clothes (carefully picked over to include only clothes that are lightweight and suitable for the climate), electronics we didn't want to send on the boat, books we should've packed but can't stand to leave behind now (there are no public libraries in Ghana) and a few other odds and ends. Looking at our enormous remaining piles of 8 suitcases (yes, we packed two extra, yes we'll pay through the nose for them), three rolling carry-ons, two computer bags (we'll pretend that's a small personal item), and one bulging backpack for meeting all needs on the plane.... it's pretty embarrassing. And yet, I KNOW, when we get there, some of these things I'll probably decide I don't need, and I'll be thinking longingly of the thingamajig I dropped off at the homeless shelter.   

 Lamp, made from a cocoa can

And yet, all month of December I've been telling myself how lucky I am I don't have to participate in the crazy accumulation of stuff that happens around Christmas every year. I've been chucking at all the silly people fighting over play stations, sheet sets, boots, and remote controlled toys. I've been patting myself on the back that I live so simply and frugally. HA! When I look at my pile of stuff that has to be carefully weighed and checked at the airport (and carted and carried around until then) I can't help feeling pretty silly. Especially when I think about the long process it took to winnow the things I "need" down to that amount.

The compulsion to clutch my stuff, hoard it, and hold onto it even when it may be holding me back (Laman and Lemuel) is really about lacking faith. Faith that life will be ok without this object. Faith that I'll figure out a way to either improvise, or alter my lifestyle accordingly. Faith that although I may notice the absence of something at first...many people all over the world (including where I'm moving to) are very happy without that particular convenience.

I read a book once about a family that moved to the Congo. As one of the American daughters tried to understand rural Africa, she asked a man about traveling between villages, specifically about crossing rivers. The man said there were many kinds of rope bridges that were built, or the rivers were canoed across. When the American asked, "What about a river that is so big, you can't build  rope bridge, and it
s so fast you can't canoe across it?" the Congolese man smiled at her ignorance and said "That's very simple; This river should not be crossed."

Can you eat soup without a spoon? Africans can.

That answer may not apply to everything in life. Some rivers should be crossed even if the way seems impossible. But in the little parts of my day I can use this information to learn to use what I have, rather than wishing I had something else.