Rollin with a new perspective

It has only been a few days since my last post, but once again, I don't know where to start or what to share. Each day, I feel like there are countless, precious, inexplicable moments that I just want to capture in my memory forever so that I can share them with everybody else!! Most of those experiences are feelings and emotions rather than words, so it can be tough to truly convey what I'm trying to communicate, but I'll do my best. Although my schedule throughout the week is mostly the same, interactions with new people, a different attitude, and the ever-changing lives of those around me always leads to exciting days.

One of the brightest moments last week came Friday when four of the volunteers that have been staying in a different city came back to Accra. It was a wonderful reunion, but it was also shortlived because it was also one of the volunteers' last day. She has been serving in Ghana for five months, and she's starting medical school in Syracuse this fall. Although I only spent a couple weeks with her, she'll be somebody I look up to forever. She's one of those people that never seeks attention, interrupts, or complains, and she's also very good at listening, observing, and working hard. As we were packing up glasses and medication after a long day in the sun, I asked her what advice she had for me. She said, "First, always be kinder (to others and yourself) than you really need to be. Second, be wary of being confident in something you feel you're proficient doing." The second piece of advice seemed to be a warning because of some events that happened the very next day (I'll share about that in a bit), and the first of her suggestions is something that I haven't been able to stop thinking about.

For me, it is easy to go around striving to live a good, wholesome, positive life each and every day, but especially in my relationships with those I'm closest to, I rarely try to be kinder. Once somebody knows that I love them, I become complacent with being kind (and on some occasions, rude). When I think of becoming more kind, I usually conjure up images of loving strangers, my "enemies", and those I don't have a strong relationship with yet. Although it's important to be kind to strangers so that I can foster new relationships, I want to be more kind to those that mean the most to me. I love picking up cute toddlers while I'm sweating buckets just to swing them around and see them laugh. I live for making an old aunty smile when I try to grunt out, "You're beautiful!" in Twi as she walks up to us to get her eyes screened. But I know I can do better when I call my parents late at night, sounding tired and annoyed, as if I'm just calling out of duty. I will be more kind than I need to be from this point forward!

Back to the second piece of advice-don't assume competence in just about anything. I know she didn't say exactly those words, but I was humbled a lot on Saturday, and I realized a lot of pride during the outreach today, too. Saturday, all eight volunteers still in Accra woke up early, jumped in an Uber, and cruised to a nearby town where we rented some mountain bikes. We paid a guide some money, and we embarked on a 40 km (25 mile) bike ride straight through the jungle. It started off quite easy and enjoyable. We were on paved roads, I was singing at the top of my lungs, the wind was cooling off my sweaty armpits, and I was bursting with joy. Even after we had our first hill climb, I was all smiles and looked forward to the rest of the ride. Four hours later, I was sunburned, out of water, grumpy, frustrated, and I had no idea when we were going to be finished. It wasn't so much that I was physically exhausted, but a lot of my fellow volunteers hadn't ridden bikes in years, and we all started facing mental challenges in the hot Ghanaian sun. After wallowing in despair for a few minutes, I simpy looked up and started singing again. People around me began laughing, yelling at me to stop, and struggled to stifle smiles underneath their joking insults about my incredible voice (I'm a horrrrible singer). Immediately, the burden of doubt, fatigue, and exhaustion was lifted. I was just happy to be in Ghana, outside in the sun, surrounded by people I loved. The views were amazing, and I had the opportunity to reach an incredible waterfall after biking through untouched jungle. It was a life-changing experience because I realized I cared more about maintaining perspective, supporting/lifting those around me, and enjoying the journey more than I cared about sticking to the original plan of biking through as fast as possible to get to the waterfall. It sounds cliche, but the joy really is in the journey. I could not have cared less if there was a waterfall at the end of the ride because of all the great things I had already learned and experienced. I love the people I'm with, and I love Ghana!! I want to do better at squishing out the pride within me that says, "I am good at this...Don't wait for them...You don't need help...Nobody else understands..." in regards to my studies, conversations, exercise, academics, religion, etc.

In the middle of the afternoon today, I opened up a granola bar and started to snack. I was starving, and most of the time we hardly have time to say hi to the people in front of us, much less snarf something down while we work. I immediately felt the eyes of all the kids around me. The stares weren't unwelcome, but I felt like a deer in the headlights. For the first time, I noticed they weren't staring at me and my white skin-they were staring at my food. As I dropped my hand holding the granola bar from my mouth, chewing slowly, I just sat there feeling awkward, guilty, and even ashamed. I pulled whatever snacks I had left in my backpack and tried to discreetly hand them out without disturbing the flow of patients. The people I am privileged to work with and serve each day face seemingly insurmountable challenges, yet somehow, many of them are filled with faith, joy, and light. I may not struggle with the burden of hunger or destitution, nor would I wish that trial upon anybody, but I have my own trials/struggles, and it has been humbling to see that we all have control of certain things within our own spheres of influence.

In the Parable of the Talents, one of the servants was only entrusted with one talent while the master was away, and the other servants were entrusted with much more. Upon the return of the master, the servant entrusted with the smallest sum had "played it safe," and no interest or growth was made. On the other hand, the servants who were trusted with greater sums had reinvested the money and grew the original amount they were trusted with. They were profitable, while the servant who was given less simply held on to that smaller amount and waited. Sometimes, I get scared because I know I have been blessed abundantly and greatly. I have privileges most people could never even fathom. Most of all, I have been raised in a home centered upon the teachings of Jesus Christ. Even still, I find myself comparing myself to others back home and think, "If I was in their position, I would've done this... I could've done a lot more if I had been given that opportunity..." Today, I realized that it doesn't work that way. We must learn step-by-step, proving to ourselves, those around us, and the Lord that we are able to be trusted and willing to grow. I can't sit there, perhaps like the servant, and say, "I would've invested the money if I was given five talents, but I was only given one. That's why I just had to play it safe. I had no money to spare and no extra wiggle room." There are a million possible reasons for why I have certain trials and problems in my life, but I will never be able to say it's because I wasn't given enough. That is never an excuse for failure or hopelessness.

I loved reading this parable because it brought me back to the people I have met in the villages we have traveled to. They certainly don't have much when it comes to worldly standards, but it's easy to discern who has invested their talents and developed new skills/wisdom, increasing on the original gifts they were blessed with. The world is a completely unjust place, and that is more clear to me now than it ever has been before, but each one of us has the opportunity to grow within our sphere of influence. I have loved the past few days, and I'm excited for the experiences and lessons that surely lie in store the rest of the week. Keep smiling, serving, and loving, everybody!!

Tired but thankful

Heyllloooo everybody! I have woken up at six and returned home after ten for the past three days in a row, so I haven't had time to post anything, but I've experienced a lifetime worth of unbelievable moments and miracles. I am so grateful for the privilege to work with Unite for Sight here in Ghana. I love these people, and I love the volunteers that I'm serving with.

In the past three days, two major things have happened: 1. I know with 100% surety that I'm on the right path, and I'm going to work as hard as I can to become the best doctor I can be in order to provide care for those around me. 2. There are people all over the world, despite their socioeconomic circumstances, that are rich with joy, faith, family, and love.

This week, I have been working with St. Thomas Eye Clinic. It's a bigger clinic with more than one ophthalmologist, but they're also not nearly as prepared as Crystal Eye Clinic to utilize volunteers. On Monday, we woke up, and then we drove a few hours to a beautiful Pentecost church. It was a massive chapel with seating for about 1000 people (plastic chairs of course). It had a cement floor, cinder block walls, open windows, exposed light bulbs, and about 215 smiling people waiting in need of eye care. Dr. Brako, an optometrist, was the only trained staff with the ability to see patients. Each person would have their visual acuity assessed by one of us (volunteers), then they'd wait hours to see the optometrist for an exam, and they'd finish by visiting another set of volunteers in charge of dispensing medication, glasses, and scheduling surgeries.

Dr. Brako is Superman. Without a doubt. We left for the church at seven in the morning, arrived at the church around an hour or so later, and we started seeing patients by 8:30. I was assigned to shadow Dr. Brako, and I witnessed a man devoted to service and diligence. He worked from 8:30 in the morning until 9:00 at night with one 16 oz. bottle of water, no food, no bathroom breaks, and most impressively, a smile on his face. He was completely patient, personable, and attentive with every single patient. As he waited for each person to walk over to us, he would occasionally look over at me with a tired expression, slump in his chair, and close his eyes for a second, but he just kept going. And going. And going.

On my first day with St. Thomas and Dr. Brako, I witnessed a few things for the first time. In addition to Dr. Brako's insane work ethic and commitment to help his fellow Ghanaians, I also saw the danger of an untrained volunteer trying to diagnose a patient. At around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, Dr. Brako sat down after looking through his ophthalmoscope into a once dark, brown left eye that was now clouded and murky with a foreign whiteness. He tacitly explained to the patient that he had scars on the retina along with a few other complications that would make it impossible for his vision to be fixed. The patient immediately became hostile and claimed that Dr. Brako was just trying to save the funding for patients that were his friends or family. Earlier in the day, a volunteer had told the patient that he had some serious cataracts that could easily be fixed to improve his vision. The volunteer meant no harm, and the majority of patients we see do have cataracts that can be removed, but I learned an important lesson to always be careful in what you say to patients, especially when you are in no position to understand their condition. Whether it's in a church in Ghana while on an outreach, a doctor's office back home, or in a class at BYU, I know I need to be careful in making assumptions and sharing advice that's beyond the limits of my own understanding.

Although Monday was definitely the hardest since coming to Ghana, I learned an important lesson. It was miserable to sit there and watch Dr. Brako see patient after patient when he was so exhausted and fatigued. I had no ability to relieve the burden other than trying to get him to drink water and massage his shoulders. I literally sat there all day long, but I was more tired than I'd ever been when I got home that night. I learned that at the end of the day, I'm going to be tired whether or not I worked hard to accomplish something or sat around and did nothing. If both things still lead to fatigue, I might as well work hard, help others, and feel joy instead of just sitting around.

I also witnessed the enabling power and strength that comes when we truly see those around us. On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, we arrived at the villages to a massive gather of 200+ patients and an inevitably long day. On Wednesday afternoon, Dr. Brako was going strong and acting like the champion he is. One of the coordinators called me over while I was talking to some of the patients and told me he had a favor to ask. He touched my shoulder, leaned in close, and whispered in my ear, "Trevor, you need to tell Dr. Brako he needs to hurry up. We are going to be here until midnight if he doesn't start rushing a bit. He won't listen to me, so please tell him..." I first gave a look of incredulity at the coordinator, then I felt the shame and fear start to rush in as I thought of telling Dr. Brako to speed up when he was already doing all he could, but I couldn't ignore the coordinator's request. I tentatively and reluctantly walked over to Dr. Brako, spending time with each step and sat down. After he finished seeing a patient, I quickly said, "The coordinator wanted me to tell you something. The coordinator wanted me to remind you to go quicker if you want to get home before midnight." Despite my attempt to place the responsibility on the coordinator, Dr. Brako said, "Trevor, my patients and my coworkers are my family (that was sad with a frown and certainly made me a little sad considering he has children and a wife back home). These people have been waiting eight hours today to see me, and I'm going to spend my time with each one of them. If they're going to wait to see me, I'm going to wait and listen to what they have to say." I was so moved and floored by this response. I definitely wish St. Thomas would hire another optometrist to take the burden off of Dr. Brako and make the outreaches more efficient/effective, but I was proud of Dr. Brako for standing up for what he believed in. Despite his inevitable desire to eat dinner, relax, go home to his family, and speed through the patients, he deliberately made an effort to treat each person as an individual that deserved his complete care and attention. I want to do my best to see each person around me like Dr. Brako treats his patients each and every day. He is there for the patients, and he understands the importance of listening and patience in addition to applying his skills as an optometrist.

There have been so many other experiences and miracles in the past few days, but it's currently one in the morning, and I'm waking up at six tomorrow for another long day somewhere in Ghana. Keep smiling, keep serving, and keep loving. I'll post again soon!!

Happy Mother's Day!!!

Happy Mother's Day!!! I love you, Mom! Just this afternoon, I was talking to a 24-year-old man that works at the Telecentre (our hotel) about life. He has become like a brother to me, and he's one of the kindest people I've ever met in my life. We've spent the past few nights doing ab workouts before bed, jogging, eating mangos together, doing laundry out back, fixing the water pump, and listening to videos. This afternoon, I asked him about the most influential people in his life. We talked for a minute about what that sentence even means, then he said, "My mother…" I think it's amazing that people all over the planet recognize the importance of family, and especially the role of mothers. I am so grateful I was (and still am) raised by the most selfless, loving, caring, charitable, ambitious, diligent, consistent, thoughtful, hard-working, patient, happy, outgoing, and talented woman on the planet. I love my mama.

Yesterday was a special day because we had the chance to go to the temple. I stayed up late on Friday night listening to the pouring rain ricochet off of the metal roof while the stray dogs and roosters let everybody know that it was raining. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep, so six in the morning came extra early. We all got dressed as quickly as possible, shoved a couple granola bars in our backpacks, and headed out. We hailed down a taxi after walking the quarter mile long dirt road outside of our hotel and spent the next thirty-five minutes driving in chaotic traffic. I was constantly saying prayers of gratitude that we hadn't been smashed yet. When we got to the temple, it was as if all the noise, both physical and spiritual, seemed to just dissipate. It was beautiful, and the feeling of peace and quiet was so precious after being enveloped by the loud, cheerful and upbeat city of Accra both day and night. As I sat in the Celestial Room, I couldn't hold back the tears as I stared at the beautiful ceiling, the scriptures in my hands, and my friends that were around me. There have been so many people that came before me, sacrificing so much more than just their lives, so that I could live the life I enjoy. I am so grateful for my ancestors, the unknown strangers, angels, and my living family/friends that have shaped me into who I am today. I am so blessed. Sitting in the Accra Temple was one of those moments where I walked out a changed man because I gained a different perspective. I have always tried to make the right choices and help those around me, but the experiences I'm having here are helping me to deepen my conviction of why doing the right thing is important. A change of understanding and perspective is making all the difference!

The past few days as a volunteer with the eye clinics have been incredible experiences. We have traveled to tiny villages filled with the most humble, happy, and grateful people on the planet.  I also had a chance to help the optometrists and observe the ophthalmologist at the Crystal Eye Clinic in Accra. Although the regulations, sterile practices, and conditions weren't quite the same as the hospitals in Utah, I was amazed at the efficiency and effectiveness of the clinic. The 65 year old ophthalmologist does around 50 procedures almost every single day. At one point, he operated on patients for 7 hours straight, moving from one bed to the other, without ever taking a drink or pausing to rest. Dr. Clarke answered my hundreds of questions about anatomy, the drugs, the healthcare system, his education, insurance, the government, surgical procedures, equipment, infection, sourcing, business management, Christ, and family. I could never write down everything I'm learning, but I can definitely emphasize the fact that in order to enjoy the happiness I've witnessed in others, I need to be willing to work hard, put my family first, and constantly seek the Lord in my life.

Although today is Mother's Day, I also want to share a tender experience I had in the van while driving back from a village one day. The other six volunteers in the van either had their headphones in, or their eyes were shut with there heads back after a long, hot day working in the sun. Dennis, one of the ophthalmic nurses, was sitting in the front seat looking at something on his phone. I asked him about his family, how he met his wife, and other questions like that. When speaking of his parents, he said, "I really had a special relationship with my dad. I called him (this is translated)-'Best Friend Kofi.' My dad treated me like an equal, respected me, and really tried to understand me. He was different than all the other dads. He taught me by example what it means to be a friend and a father." I'm reading a book about West Africa and the strong, patriarchal society that exists here. In church today, we spent about 45 minutes discussing what presiding in the home really means because a lot of men have tendencies to be controlling and forceful in their homes. I am so grateful for my father who has also been my best friend, always respects my feelings/ideas, and has patiently helped me through everything I've ever been through.

I LOVE GHANA, AND I LOVE MY PARENTS!!!!

I'm sorry this post is so scattered. So much has happened in the past couple of days, so it's overwhelming to try and clearly convey all of the experiences and feelings. This week, I'll be working with a different eye clinic in different areas around Accra. I'm excited for everything to come!

An ordinary day of extraordinary experiences!

Each and every day here in Ghana, I find myself more and more amazed at the goodness in this world. I have grown to love these people so much, and I can already tell that six weeks here could never be enough. At the Telecentre, I have become a son to Mama Margaret (she runs the Telecentre-there are only seven rooms here) and sibling to Frida (she's twenty), Kofi (22), Great (21), Emmanuel (26), Francis (24), and Christopher (26). All of them are family, and they just have life figured out. They may not have a college education, and they might be making barely enough money to scrape by each month, but they love each other, they work hard, they love the Lord, and they have experienced a lot in life. Today, after returning home from a long day outside at a refugee camp, I asked Mama Margaret, "How are you? Where are some cheap places to get dinner around here?" She quickly responded by asking one of her sons to walk us to dinner. When I asked, "Mama, what can we do to make you smile? What can I do to help?" She simply laughed and responded, "Oh hoh hoh Trevor, just love me. All you have to do is love me and promise that you'll live a good life so that we can meet again in heaven someday…" I didn't realize the profoundness of this statement until writing it down. When it comes to pure religion, all we are asked to do is love. When we love those around us, we automatically strive to stay true to what we know is right (the commandments), we have the Spirit with us, and we find ourselves growing into someone fit for heaven someday. I love the precious lessons that I can learn in the simplest of sentences each day here in Ghana!

After coming downstairs this morning to leave at the designated 7:45 a.m., we sat around until 9:15 when the van came to pick us up. I traveled with three other students (Meg, Megan, and Lauren) to a Liberian Refugee Camp that was about one hour away (still in the Accra region). Even late in the morning, a breeze began swirling about, and clouds were gathering in the sky. We all knew an afternoon storm was inevitable (and certainly welcome!). Once we arrived, I was immediately struck by the friendliness and humility of those in the camp. The living conditions were certainly not desirable, but they were better than I imagined. There were cinder block shacks with tin roofs, bathrooms, water pumps operated by NGOs, and small school rooms scattered throughout. We set up our station underneath a mango tree, and I began helping with dispensing medicine/glasses. I might've said this before, but we make everybody pay for the medication and glasses they receive a prescription for (at a highly subsidized price) so that they'll value it and take care of it. On Monday, the majority of the patients were gracious and grateful, but there were a few that tried to barter and ask for special treatment. Today, when somebody didn't have enough money, the other refugees waiting in line would immediately butt in and lend them a few extra cedis, even if that meant they themselves wouldn't have enough to buy their own medication. Everybody was there to help each other, and this wasn't just a one-time thing. It happened over and over again. I was so grateful for the privilege to simply witness such selfless charity, love, and sacrifice.

Another important lesson I learned today was to always remember where I'm at. After even a few minutes behind a table and repeating the same task of asking for a prescription, collecting the medicine, and collecting money, I found myself going into robot mode and just coasting through everything. Randomly, I'd recognize my absentmindedness, and I'd actually look into the deep, unique, dark brown eyes of the person I was helping. As soon as I did this, I would connect with them. We would share a smile, a laugh, a few compliments, and priceless joy. It could've been a long day of handing out a bunch of medicine and eye drops, but when I really paid close attention to who I was helping, it turned into a day of learning, serving, connecting, laughing, and loving. Instead of completing a day's work, I simply felt like I gained a few hundred new friends and family members. When I deliberately chose to be present and care for an individual, I was immediately blessed with a feeling of fulfillment and joy.

As we were driving home, I sat in the back of a hot van next to a man named Ernest. Sweat was running down my forehead, neck, back, armpits, and legs. Cars were honking, motos were zipping past the windows, and people knocked on the sides of the van trying to sell us things while were stopped. Amidst the craziness, Ernest and I had an incredible conversation. He told me his story of wanting to be a banker, excelling in science, struggling to get accepted to medical school, and choosing to pursue optometry. He told me how he met his wife while working on an outreach for Crystal Eye Clinic, and he showed me pictures of his newborn son. This man is 35, and he works over 100 hours every single week in 95 degree humid, scorching weather. He sees over 200 patients every single day, week after week, month after month, and travels all over the country. Despite this hectic schedule, he is filled with warmth, optimism, and energy. I've met very few people with a smile as big as his. Ernest's eyes are filled with light, and he laughs easily at just about anything you say. After talking with Ernest the whole ride home, I realized that every piece of conversation ended up with a reference to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. He would share something with me, and somehow his words always lead to him thanking the Lord for blessing him abundantly. Ernest, and so many of the other Ghanaian people, have taught me that when the gospel isn't just a part of who you are-when you really allow it to become who you are- then nothing in life can stop you. Ernest reminded me that you get out what you put in. He lives a busy, overworked life, but he has also received/recognized many blessings and feels fulfillment every single day as he closes his eyes and falls asleep. I don't necessarily wish to travel across a country each week and work 16-20 hour days consistently, but I do wish to have the Spirit with me and feel like I've accomplished the Lord's will.

I'm incredibly grateful for the experiences I've had thus far, and I'm excited to see what will happen tomorrow. There is so much to learn, and I know that there are more miracles to witness!

Grateful in Ghana

Today was the first full day in Ghana, and it was absolutely incredible! I woke up at two in the morning to some howling dogs and crowing chickens. Mhmm, my favorite. When I got up for church, I had a nice cool shower, and I wasn't even sweaty after I finished! The weather was perfect!!! After getting ready and chatting with the staff (they are already like family), we walked down a dirt road, over the highway, and passed a bunch of churches on our way to Sacrament meeting. Ghana is one of the most special places I've ever been, and I think one reason is that most people have a strong relationship with God. The whole city was packed into every single building shouting praises to the Lord, and what a glorious sound it was. Sure, it wasn't a bunch of reverent hymns that I'm used to hearing, but the drums, guitars, clapping, and shouting still made me smile.

The ward in Ghana is amazing, and a few things really stood out to me. It was fast Sunday today, so everybody had a chance to bear their testimony. As we sat in a hot chapel with the windows open and the drone of ceiling fans almost drowning out the voices of those who went up to the podium, the Spirit was strong and spoke to my heart. Each person started by saying, "I am thankful to my Heavenly Father…" There was such a genuine, sincere, and powerful sense of gratitude. Simply being there made me feel like the gratitude was something potent and tangible that I could stuff inside my backpack. I just wanted that feeling all of the time, and I was so impressed by the humility of those around me. One woman said, "Heavenly Father has been so good to me that I can't even explain it…" When she spoke these words, I couldn't stop myself as the tears flowed from my eyes. After only a few days in Ghana, I have felt more love and gratitude for my Heavenly Father, my Savior Jesus Christ, and my family. I also have a strong conviction that it's more important than ever to surround myself with people that point me towards Christ.

After church, we met back at the Telecentre and had a short orientation meeting with an optometrist who works with the Crystal Eye Clinic in Ghana. I couldn't possibly emphasize this enough, but his humility is just contagious. He gave us a quick summary and training on our responsibilities (I'll walk you through those in a later post once I have more firsthand experience), and he also told us a few stories. He told us that he often works 80-100 hour weeks, even as a 45-year-old young father with many children, but he wouldn't trade his situation for anything. During his first week with the clinic, while on an outreach (a visit to a destitute village), he was only able to see 200 patients, and he had to send 100 back home and told them to come back next month when he would visit again. He squeezed a few more in, and the last patient he saw was a young mother who was blind in both eyes because of cataracts. He was able to schedule her for surgery, and the ophthalmologist was able to remove the cataracts in less than twenty minutes the next day. When he went back to the village a month later, the woman came running up to him with tears in her eyes and wrapped him up in a hug. She was able to see! I am so excited to be a part of something great. For those of you that donated money and helped me get here, I want you to know that your donations make a huge difference. The Ghanaian people would not be able to afford these surgeries or eye care if it wasn't for your help, and I also want you to know that the funds are not being wasted or handled carelessly. Not a dollar goes unaccounted for, and I am excited to work hard every single day this week to help as many people as possible have the opportunity to have better sight so that they can have better lives.

"More gratitude give me!"

This trip is "Ghana" be great!!!

I MADE IT TO GHANA!! I don't know why I'm writing that as if I'm surprised because I fully intended on safely arriving here, but it's a reason for exclamation and joy either way. I have so much to say, but I don't know where to start.

The first flight from Salt Lake City to JFK was rather mundane and uneventful, but the flight to Ghana was an awesome start to what is already an incredible experience. Our plane was delayed an hour because a passenger's bags were suspected of containing illicit material and had to be removed, but after some shuffling of seats, I happened to sit next to a girl named Sam Daly. She just finished her junior year in the accounting program, and she also happened to be best friends with Jake and Dallas back in Pleasant Grove! What a tender mercy! While on the flight, I was continually blown away by the generosity, friendliness, positive attitude, and cheerfulness of the Ghanaians around me.

Despite the fact that it was only eight in the morning when we landed, as soon as I stepped off the plane I was immediately enveloped by a suffocating blanket of humidity and heat. Beads of sweat started forming on my forehead, but a bigger smile was forming on my face. The weather, appearance, and feel of Accra were

exactly like Malaysia (that's a good thing)!! The airport wasn't quite as nice as the ones back in the U.S., the drivers were crazy, motos were everywhere, and people just roamed the streets with random goods to sell, but the randomness somehow made a perfect environment.

I got to sit up front next to our driver, John. He's a 44-year-old man with 5 kids (age 3 being the youngest and age 14 being the oldest). He is one of those guys that you can tell has a genuine heart, and when he smiles, you can't help but smile right back. He told me a little bit about Accra, but he mostly just wanted to ask me questions and reassure me that I was going to love it here. He certainly didn't need to do any extra convincing because I was in heaven!

The rest of the day was spent walking in the hot sun to find an ATM, get a feel for the streets around the Telecentre (where I'm staying), and buy some water. The heat was stifling, and I'll need to drink more water than I normally would, but honestly, it feels like I'm back in Malaysia (once again, that's great news).

I am so grateful for the privilege and opportunity I have to be here, and I'm excited to serve and learn. Keep smiling!!!

PS-It took forever to upload this post (especially with the pictures) because the wifi connection is so inconsistent here. Please be patient with me, and I promise I'm taking more pictures that are just stuck on my phone.