I was up so high, lookin' down at the sky, don't let me fall

I'm ironically afraid of heights for a tall person. Therefore, this next post may surprise you... It surprised me.

During our stay in Cape Coast, we heard about a national forest that was nearby. After doing a little more research, we discovered it's called Kakum National Park and that they offered a canopy walk experience. Therefore, we adventurous people hailed a taxi and rode about 30 km out to "virgin rainforest" to discover what we could. And what we discovered was virgin awesomeness.

We paid our entry fees and joined a group. The group was mostly packed with students; apparently we had come during a field trip. Best. Field trip. Ever. We all took a little hike and listened to a short explanation of the park and how the canopy walk was built. Don't ask me to remember much - it wasn't my field trip. Then we got in a big line and ascended some stairs to start our adventure in the air.



The entire walk was thrilling and terrifying. The surroundings were awesome and the view phenomenal. Yet, when you're 100 ft above the forest floor, your walk isn't that stable. I think I would have been fine, except for the shakiness of the walkway. So basically I was the constraint in our little group, since my legs seemed to lock up slightly when each time I raised one foot, the other shook... Yikes.



Regardless of my terror, I made it across all the walkways (there were about six), and it was awesome. Definitely an excellent addition to my summer adventures!

If you would know your history, then you would know where you're coming from

So I went on a little trip. "But Melody, aren't you already on a trip?" some of you may ask. To those questioners I would respond, "I am doing lots of hard work, just because it happens to be in a beautiful place does not make it a vacation." Also I really like the thought of a vacation from your vacation. Sweet.
Anyway, we spend a few days in Accra, going to the temple and doing massive amounts of shopping (see last post), then we headed off to Cape Coast. About three hours west of Accra, Cape Coast is the heart of Ghana's tourism. Or so the website tells me. I did see significantly more white people while I was there though, so it must have been right.


I had a cool experience while I was there. One of the first days there, we wanted to hit the beach, a feat we thought would be fairly simple in a tourist area with the word "coast" in the name. In a case of dramatic irony, we spent over 4 hours wandering the greater part of both Cape Coast and Elmina looking for a decent beach that had sand and no death rocks 16 feet out. Picky American tourists, I know. After our wanderings, I was trying to keep a good attitude, but I lost it somewhere between the pig eating garbage and two men defecating on my beach. Lovely.
When I finally had reached my limit, I decided I was going to take solace in a castle. I think I was a princess in another life. This wasn't any castle though; it had been used as a slave outpost for a few hundred years. God definitely knew that I needed some perspective and also exactly how to give it to me. As we stood in the old holding cells where they kept hundreds of men and women for months at a time, my annoyances paled in comparison. I was so worried about some trash on my beach during a vacation, when these people didn't even know if they'd survive the journey to a place where they would be worked like animals.


I love historical visits on my trips, and this one was particularly timely. I'm so glad for the reality check. It was definitely one of those things that made me stop to re-evaluate my life.

I Love to See the Temple

I am just going to preface this post with saying that the church never ceases to amaze me. I have been so impressed with not only the effect that it has on these faithful saints in all areas in Ghana/the world, but also with its orderliness and the automatic relationships it makes. It has opened so many doors to us not only in Abomosu, Asunafo, and Sankubenase, but also in Accra. We make a contact with one person in the church, and bam, suddenly we have the numbers to the Branch President, the District President, and the senior missionary couple, who then hooks us up with things like buildings to meet in and a projector. I don’t know what we would do without the help of the church.
But the main purpose of this post is to write about how awesome the temple is. We got to Accra on Saturday, so we were able to go to church on Sunday. The building where Peggy, Stephen’s daughter, attends is actually right on the temple grounds. Church is awesome, but it adds a whole other dimension to your church-going experience when you can see the temple each time you step out of a room.


Then on Tuesday, we were able to attend the temple. The guys in our group left in the morning to do a session, and we girls caught up with them later to do baptisms. It was awesome how things were just the same as in the Logan temple. Although their baptistry was prettier… I just have a small love affair with stained glass windows, and there was a large stained glass window on one side of the room, with the afternoon sun shining through it… It was amazing.


We definitely received blessings from doing temple work. The spiritual boost was much needed. It has been a while since I did baptisms, and I had forgotten how much I love it. And for the first time in six weeks, I used a water-heated, stand-up shower! If there was any doubt before as to how much I loved the church before that moment, it was blasted away by that sweet, warm water. I could have stayed in there for hours, but sadly Chelsey was done with baptisms much too quickly. But that heavenly shower will stay in my memory for probably at least another six weeks till I can have hot-water, stand-up showers regularly again. It’s amazing what you come to appreciate when it’s gone from your life.

Between the shower of water and of the Spirit, I am definitely ready to conquer the second half of my stay here in Ghana.

Money, Money, Money

Well, we finally gave our first loans! It’s been quite the process, but we were finally able to approve loans for five men in Asunafo. They all came to the majority of our classes last month and were great students. After working through their business plans and pricing with them, we allowed them to form a “pod,” and then Supe and I went to the bank.


As it turned out, going to the bank was the hardest step in that process… The bank we have our account at is actually in Kwabeng, a town about 30 minutes away from Abomosu. Since Joey and Spencer opened the account last year, Supe and I couldn’t just waltz in and withdraw, even if we are the only other obronis trying to bank with them. Luckily Stephen is on the account, so if he was there, he could approve the withdrawal. Stephen was super busy this week with some World Joy guests (another NGO that helps build schools and health clinics in the area). So we worked out a system where Supe, Nkansa, and I would meet Stephen and a bank employee in Ekorso (a town about halfway in between), Stephen would sign a paper, then the rest of us would continue on to the bank and get the money!
Easier said than done…
Supe, Nkansa, and I were in place at our appointed time… Stephen was supposed to come just after 11, and we weren’t sure what the status of the bank employee was. As the time rounded noon, with no sign of either of them and no phone service to call anyone, we were about to give up hope and call a cab. Luckily Stephen pulled up just as we had decided to go. But when we met him, he wanted to know where the paper was. We were supposed to go get it from Kwabeng… Hooray for misunderstandings. So we rode off on our bumpy way to go get the paper, and got to the bank just in time for the skies to let loose their fury. Hooray for the rainy season. As we were waiting in the bank, someone got a call from Stephen that he was just going to come meet us there, since his plans with World Joy were rained out. Hooray for the rainy season (no sarcasm this time)!
After getting everything worked out with the bank (Stephen taught the GM, so it pays to know Stephen), we crammed the four of us (and 2,400 GHC in a Ziploc baggie) into the back of a taxi and headed home.
The next morning we met with the loan recipients. They were really excited to finally be able to get started on their projects. Twelve hundred of the cedis went to the men in back (Douglas, Moses, and Benjamin). They each got 400 to work together on a fish farm, where they will have about 2,000 tilapia and mad fish in about six months’ time. The two in front (George and Sampson) are cocoa farmers and they will use 550 GHC each to buy fertilizers and insecticides that will enable them to double their yield. I told them it was just an investment into my favorite addiction. These are great guys will benefit so much from these loans.


I’m so excited that we finally have started to do what we came here to do. As awesome and as necessary as teaching classes is, it is really rewarding to finally be doing something that will really make such a big difference in their lives. I’m excited to hear about their progress and see how this will affect their lives.



P.S. While we were waiting in Ekorso, we stumbled upon this school. Apparently I'm not as far from home as I thought I was... I guess Sky View actually raised the funds to build this school the year after I left. Pretty cool!

Don't Go Chasin Waterfalls

Since we've been working hard and sticking in Abomosu (and Asunafo), the fellow interns and I decided we deserved an adventure. We had heard there are some waterfalls in the area, so we decided that should be perfect.
The day started with rain. Lots of rain. And power outages. Lots of power outages. (Usually it just goes out for long amounts of time, but it just wouldn't die, much to our benefit.) We waited out the rain and luckily it had stopped by the time we left (about 10:30). It was quite the trek.
(All times are approximate)
10:30 - 10:45: Walk into town
10:45 - 10:50: Listen to the cab drivers argue about who gets to drive us and pile five of us into the small cab
10:50 - 12:00: Drive over countless potholes to Anyiam
12:00 - 12:05: Get out of the cab, pay the taxi driver, then pile back in when he realizes that we are going to the waterfalls and he can take us
12:05 - 12:35: Drive on dirt roads till we reach the base of the hike, then get number of driver so he can come pick us up
12:35 - 12:36: Take a moment to let yourself revel in the fact that you are in the middle of a freaking African rainforest
12:36 - 1:15: Hike up a little, wet, somewhat steep trail while not using any of the numerous trees for balance because chances are, they are covered in bugs or moss
1:15 - 1:16: Stand and gape at the awesome waterfall
1:16 - 1:37: Take pictures of said waterfall
1:38 - 2:45: Play in said waterfall and surrounding areas
2:45 - 3:05: Hike back down the slippery slope in wet clothes
3:05 - 3:07: Eat a granola bar while a fellow intern calls the taxi driver
3:07 - 3:15: Wait for said taxi driver
3:15 - 3:25: Wait for said taxi driver while eating plantain chips
3:25 - 3:49: Give up waiting for taxi driver and start walking
3:50 - 5:12: Get picked up by the late taxi driver and drive back to Abomosu
Later that evening: Write a blog post about your adventure and post lots of awesome pictures so all your friends and family will be jealous

I Bless the Rains Down in Africa

Well, the rainy season is definitely here in full swing. You can't tell from the above picture, but I'm actually soaking wet and only halfway to Asanafo. It really wouldn't be so bad, because it makes it about 15 degrees cooler, but it also makes the already iffy electricity really unreliable. Out of the past four days, we have had the power out for a few hours each of the four days. Hooray for African infrastructure.

But luckily the daily power outage didn't interfere with class today. It was our third session in Asanafo (where Supe and I teach) and the third-ish class in Abomosu (Aaron and Chelsey teach a repeat class every Wednesday and Friday, so we are on the same lesson). Anyway, I love the people we are teaching. They are very engaged and really want to learn. Plus so many of them are really excited about their business ideas. All they need is a chance.

We have also been catching up with previous loan recipients. On Saturday we went to Asoum to visit Esther. She started a restaurant kiosk and catering service here in Abomosu, and she did so well that she paid back the loan in two months and moved to Asoum, a bigger city. We went to visit her to follow up on how the business was doing and see her financial records. Unfortunately, she hasn't kept good records, but it allowed us to teach her a simple method.


Sorry for the short post, I'll try to blog more later when I have more electricity.

I Whip My Hurr

Or actually, now I don't. I went native. Well, as native as purple cornrows makes me. Which actually turns out to be quite a bit. That's right, I gots my hurr did. And it's awesome. Now, before you freak out Mom, since I know you and Aubrey are the only ones reading this, they aren't that bright of purple. More of a dark purple, which only seems bright at the ends or in the light.
Let me tell the whole story. My hair has been driving me crazy. It has grown to be lusciously long and smooth, which is great in many other places besides Ghana. Instead I have simply been fed up with the fact that hair down = nasty sweaty neck and hair up means some variation on the same hairstyle everyday. So I guess I just opted for the exact same hairstyle every day for a month. I won't explain the reasoning behind it, because honestly, there wasn't much.
So after a few days of considering, I decided to have Margaret take me into town and show me the greatest "beauty saloon" in town. She happily complied, and Vida came with.
It wasn't the first time I've done something somewhat drastic with my hair on a whim. Probably won't be the last.
I sat in the patio chair outside the shop and waited as Margaret explained that the obroni wanted obibini hair. After some consideration, I was informed that my hair was too "slippery" for just natural braids, something I'd actually been quite proud of in the past, and that I would need some artificial hair braided in as well. I was then presented with an assortment of hair in a large array of colors. My eye fell naturally on the pink, but after some discouragement from Vida and Margaret, I remembered that I was on school business, and instead chose the purple. Purple is much more professional.


With no direction from me or Vida, the hairdresser got to work. She had her pick, her hands, and a girl to hand her clumps of fake hair, and she was set. The crowd around the shop was in interesting mix. There were about 5 girls in yellow and green uniforms doing odd jobs, until it got busy enough for them to have work to do as well. Then there was me and Vida. Other customers came and went, along with passers-by who all needed to come and give their opinion on everyone's styles. Luckily I kept getting unsolicited reinforcement, which is what every girl needs when they do something spontaneous with their hair.


The process was slow going, but tedious. It only hurt when she would get to the little hairs and insist on pulling them all into the braid. I may have cried, but I'm pretty sure it was just watery eyes. The strangest part of the process was when one of the girls brought over a boiling pot of water. I didn't realize it was for my head until I felt it being poured over the newly fake ends of my hair. And by felt I mean I sensed the steam and intense heat on my back, through the bowl and my shirt. But I'm pretty sure it was to seal off the ends of my hair, so the braids stayed braided. Then she put in some gold accents to finish it off, and I was finished.

As we walked home, Vida cheerfully translated the shouting as we walked home. The benefit of this was that I learned that not all of the yelling is bad. In fact, most of them were quite complimentary. So I took that as a sign that my purple cornrows are, in fact, bringing me a hair closer to being African.