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.