I'll Be Back!! (references to "You Are the Gift" by Sharon Eubank)

A few months ago, at the start of the winter semester, I sat in a classroom while watching a broadcast of Sharon Eubank speak about service. I walked out of that room both inspired and pensive. I felt driven, yet unsure of where to start. I knew that I had things I needed to work on, and it still seemed a little daunting. She said, “You can’t tell the character of an individual by the way he does his daily work. Watch him when his work is over. See where he goes. Note the companions he seeks, and the things he does when he may do as he pleases. Then you can tell his true character.” I started striving to be more aware of how I spent my time, especially when I felt I was too "busy" to have any free time. I tried to direct my thoughts to virtuous things, and honestly, when I deliberately sought goodness, I felt good. I was happy! Inevitably, my focus slowly waned, and I found myself here in Ghana with a lot to work on. Before arriving, I spent a lot of time studying about Ghana, completing training online, fundraising, and gathering supplies so that I could arrive here ready to serve and make a difference. After a week or two, I allowed myself to occasionally fall into self-pity. I would look around and say, "I'm not even needed here. All they needed was my fundraising, and having me here is just a nuisance and necessary evil. My being here is a privilege and reward rather than a necessity." Honestly, I still stand by the fact that logistically, they did need the money and fundraising to subsidize medicine/surgeries a lot more than they needed my manpower, but my attitude has completely changed. Although I wasn't necessarily needed to do visual acuity tests, take blood pressure, assist with surgeries, and dispense medicine, I needed to be here. My presence and ability to help others feel calm, assured, laugh a little, take a break, or smile was priceless. Sister Eubank said, "What would it look like if each of us were our own well-stocked humanitarian organization? Instead of just giving out tangible goods in foreign locations, what if we had the richness of dispensing healing, friendship, respect, peaceful dialogue, sincere interest, protective listening of children, birthday remembrances, and conversations with strangers? What if that was what your humanitarian organization did? This kind of humanitarian work can be done by anybody and it can be done at any time. And you don’t need warehouses or fundraising or transportation. You can be perfectly responsive to any need that comes to you, wherever you are." I am grateful for the conversations I had late at night with some of the Telecentre staff as I listened to their business plans, family troubles, or their testimonies. I'm grateful that I was able to comfort someone crying on the side of the road one morning when I went for a run because they had just lost their father. I'm grateful I was able to hold a small child's hand as he walked into the OR sniffling and holding back tears, trying to be brave. I'm grateful for the laughter and happiness I was able to bring to the outreach staff after a long, hot day in the middle of nowhere. I am positive that the eye clinics wouldn't have been able to see over 400 patients a day without the extra help of the volunteers, but it was a humbling moment when I realized there were other, perhaps more important, ways for me to serve here. I'm most grateful for the individual, interpersonal experiences I had with people every single day. 

This past week was by far the most rewarding week of the trip because I finally understood why I needed to be here. Before leaving, I told my family and a few friends about what I was hoping to accomplish and gain from a trip to Ghana. In addition to some of the standard things I was hoping to accomplish (service, experience, healthcare exposure, networking, etc.), I was also seeking healing and a refresher before I embark on the next few years of my life. Now, after six of some of the best weeks of my life, I have been healed, and I have received so much more.

Every day, while on the outreaches, one thing we do is fit people with glasses. For those that need reading glasses, we hand them a miniature copy of the New Testament for them to glance at and ensure the glasses work adequately. The first time I handed the Bible to a patient, I happened to open up to Luke 18:40-43. It says, "And Jesus stood, and commanded him to be brought unto him: and when he was come near, he asked him, saying, 'What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee?' And he said, 'Lord, that I may receive my sight.' And Jesus said unto him, 'Receive thy sight: thy faith hath saved thee.' And immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying God…"  I was certainly surprised at this poignant scripture I randomly turned to just a few weeks ago, but I'm even more surprised by the deeper understanding and revelation it has brought to my life. In Ghana, through the service, examples, and attitudes of others, I have received my sight. I better understand who God is, who I am, and what I need to do in order to become the person I need to be. I have been the recipient of pure charity and love, and that has made all the difference. People I barely knew six weeks ago have become my best friends. Strangers we met on outreaches have become my brothers and sisters. The staff and fellow volunteers are now my family. I have truly been the recipient of Christlike, genuine, sincere, unconditional love. My greatest desire is to grow in light and faith, doing all that I can, so that I can be one who will always be in a position to extend God's love to others like they have done for me.

I love Ghana, I have loved my experience working through Unite for Sight, and I will always love the people I was able to come into contact with here. Words cannot describe my gratitude or my joy, and I'm looking forward to the next time I can come back.

Smiles, sickness, and service

I am so grateful to be serving in Ghana. On one hand, I've had full days of serving, working, sweating, laughing, smiling, hugging, and socializing, but I've also had plenty of long car rides filled with deep conversations and avid reading. I have read about 10 books in the past couple of weeks (I might've stayed up a little too late as well), and it pains me to know that I lack the ability and skills to convey what I'm experiencing like some of the authors I read. I wish I was better at writing, and I also wish that each one of you could be here with me! We haven't had any internet connection for the past few days, so I'll have to leave a lot of things out, but I'll try to share a few of the most recent stories.

This week was probably one of the best so far because of the diverse areas we visited, funny experiences, and tender mercies. On Wednesday, we drove a couple hours to a beautiful chapel in the middle of nowhere. Almost every time we have an outreach, we hold it at a chapel, but most of the time, they're unfinished and just bare, unpainted cement on the inside. This chapel was painted, it had wooden pews, and the people were just glowing. A fun part of the outreaches happens after one of the staff members gives a short introduction and instructional speech. He finishes by calling us up and letting us introduce ourselves. I always say, "Yeh fre meh, Kwabenah." Everybody always claps and laughs because Kwabenah is my name in Twi, and it's just fun to hear all their giggles and see their smiles. On Wednesday, after I said my name, I felt like that was the last time I was understood all day. I spent the next few hours trying to speak slowly, speak in Twi, use a translator, show things with my hands, and just straight up guess at what people were trying to communicate. For whatever reason, the language barrier was terrible there! It was a humbling experience, and I'm grateful for moments like those that remind me I've only been here a few weeks, and I've got a looooong way to go. As we were finishing, there was a 60+ year-old man wearing a t-shirt with military pins and medals all over. I walked up to him, and he took off his hat and put it on my head. He took a few minutes to tell me how much he learned as a soldier, and I couldn't help but feel gratitude for the millions of people who have sacrificed in any way for me to be where I am today. Wednesday was a wonderful day.

Thursday and Friday were another couple of days for the record books. On Thursday, after a three hour drive, I stepped out of the van, a bit groggy and sleepy, and opened my eyes in the bright sunlight. As my eyes started to adjust,  I began to perceive my surroundings and found myself face to face with a 50+ year-old woman without a shirt on waving a bundle of sticks in my face while shouting in a language I didn't understand at all. I didn't know if she was asking for money or just telling me off for doing something I shouldn’t have, but my response was just laughter. Sometimes a few laughs are all I can muster in awkward situations.

On Friday, we drove a few hours along the most beautiful road. At times, we were surrounded by massive, magnificent trees that were hundreds of feet tall. At other times, miles and miles of grassy plains speckled with a few trees extended as far as my eyes could see. The outreach site was completely packed, but it was one of those types of busy that make the time go faster and make you feel important/needed. By now, I know how much all the medicines cost, and I know what each of them do. It's a lot easier to look at somebody's prescription and understand a little bit of what they're going through now that I know what the drugs are for. It's something small like this-understanding that Texanol helps relieve pressure in the eye (probably because of Glaucoma) compared to Sodicrom that is used to treat allergies-that has made all of the difference. When I first asked what each drug was used for, where it came from, how they ordered them, etc. I was simply being curious. That curiosity brought forth information so that I could have a way to genuinely connect with others and better understand what they were going through.

Another tender mercy came as we saw our last twenty patients. I asked Ernest if I could shadow him for a few minutes, and he patiently treated each person as an important, trusted, and loved individual. It was in complete contrast to other optometrists who were a little slow, sometimes condescending, worn-out, and impatient. Ernest was fast, yet he never seemed rushed. He also spared a few minutes to teach me a little bit about how to use the ophthalmoscope and what to look for inside the eye. When I first looked inside somebody's eye and saw all of the little blood vessels leading towards the optic nerve, it was like a whole new world. It was incredible! I yearn for the day when I'll actually be able to make sense of all the different veins, nerves, cupping, and so many others things I've never heard of in order to help others. In just twenty minutes with Ernest, I learned more about healthcare, optometry, how to treat a patient, and how to see people as Christ would than I have this whole entire trip.

We finished the day with some rice, avocados, and chicken that must've been made with extra love because it was delicious (even after five weeks straight of chicken rice). To sweeten the deal, we stopped on the side of the road at a small ice cream stand in the middle of nowhere, and I had the best ice cream in my whole entire life. THE BEST! Better than Nielsen's Frozen Custard or Rockwell's in Provo. It was pure coconut milk, mango, and passion fruit that all added up to absolute goodness. Friday was just one of those days where everything falls into place, a smile never left my face, and gratitude filled my heart.

Saturday morning. 1:00 A.M. Disaster struck. The next eighteen hours were spent using the bathroom and vomiting too many times to count. Somewhere in the middle of feeling too sick to sit up in bed, I literally laughed out loud reflecting on Saturday's perfection compared to Saturday's misery. Gotta love it.

To wrap up the best week ever, I had the chance to teach the lesson during Sunday School in church, and the focus was on friendship. On Saturday, one of the staff members helped me clean everything up despite the disgusting situation and my whiny, pitiful attitude. He helped me without any expectation of gaining anything in return, and he helped me without any grumbling or hidden motives. In 1 Samuel 18:1-3, we read, "And it came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. And Saul took him that day, and would let him go no more home to his father’s house. Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul." I have no idea how to love someone as my own soul, but I know that it starts with service, and I know that it requires love without any expectation of receiving something in return. Love is never wasted, and I know that how we treat others is a reflection of how we view the Lord.

I'm so grateful for the opportunity to be surrounded by some of the most incredible people on this planet. I'm so grateful to be a part of the healing process for so many people, and I know that I'm the one who has been healed the most here. I'm so grateful for the small moments each and every day that point me to the Lord and help me better understand what's most important in life.

Falling, Fast Sundays, and Fan-Ice

The past few days are literally impossible to cram into just a few short paragraphs...but I AM BURSTING WITH GRATITUDE!!!! I AM HAPPY!!! I'll share just a few short highlights, and I'd ask that you please be patient with me because I'm trying to write this as fast as I can before the power goes out (and the wifi turns off).

Last Friday night, after a wonderful week of service, work, and smiles, we got back to the Telecentre, and I was ready to call it a night. A few people decided they wanted to hurry and check out a local venue out that advertised live music and dancing, but ten minutes later, two of my best friends knocked on my door and burst into the room. One of the girls that went dancing had fallen into a drainage ditch on the side of the road just outside of the guest house. She shredded her thigh, cracked her phone, and caught all of her weight on her left wrist as she fell inside. It was one of those nights where we couldn't really do anything besides pray, offer ibuprofen, change the ice packs, and wait until morning (none of the hospitals had an x-ray tech working that night). We woke up early on Saturday and spent a couple hours trying to find a hospital with an x-ray machine and radiologist. After two hours of driving and waiting, we found a hospital, and more miracles ensued. Our friend who was driving ended up knowing a security guard who helped us explain it was an emergency (that saved us about three hours of waiting in the queue). After being screened, we then went to the imaging center where our friend/driver recognized an old classmate who was a doctor there. The doctor was able to get us in quickly and saved us another few hours. By the time it was all said and done, we'd spent about eight hours at the hospital for the peace of mind to know that her wrist wasn't broken and to get a few painkillers. Despite the fact that it seemed like a waste of time, I had the chance to spend all day talking, listening, and having one of the most meaningful conversations I've had in a long time. I'm grateful for the precious treasures that I've been able to experience here in the most unexpected circumstances/times. I'm also incredibly grateful for the miracle that my friend didn't have a broken wrist or more serious injury.

Fast Sunday was absolutely incredible. Saturday night, as a group, we watched The Terminal. Despite its cheesy lines and dramatized events, I definitely shed a tear or two. One of the themes of the movie was waiting. Tom Hanks, the main character, repeatedly said, "I will wait." and didn't get frustrated, frazzled, or distressed despite absolutely horrible circumstances. Throughout Sunday, the theme of patience and waiting was emphasized over and over again in fast and testimony meeting. Just like in the movie, I was reminded that waiting doesn't mean passively sitting and expecting things to eventually come to pass. It means actively working to make the most of the situation while remaining confident that the small steps and actions will lead to the resolution of the bigger problem. It was a special experience to have everything connect in that way, and I know that the Spirit was teaching me an important, timely lesson. I am prone to "looking beyond the mark" and forgetting to enjoy the journey. The experience in the hospital, my experience in church, and my experiences on outreaches each day are reminding me to not just work towards the end but to enjoy working each day so that I'm somebody better, and have helped others become better, when I do reach the end.

Today was absolutely wonderful as well, but I'll share more about my experiences as soon as I can. It's time for bed, and I'm excited for tomorrow! I hope you're all doing well!!

Takoradi-A Day In the Life of A Unite for Sight Global Intern

This last week was the best week of the trip. Last Sunday, we woke up after a wonderful Saturday that included a temple trip, shopping, and deep conversations. I ironed my white shirt that now has permanent brown stains on the collar, put on my tie, and walked to church. It was the usual crew, but we were also accompanied by one of our fellow volunteers from the Netherlands. It was an amazing experience to be able to answer her questions, attend church, and feel the Spirit with the people here in Ghana. I truly look forward to church on Sunday, and it's starting to feel like we belong now. We sang a musical number in Sacrament Meeting (by we, I mean a few of the better singers sang out, and I just moved my mouth and did my best to blend in), and I was asked to teach in Sunday school a couple weeks from now. I am excited!!

The torrential rain stopped just long enough for us to walk home from church. Once I got to the Telecentre, I changed my clothes as fast as I could before I started sweating through my shirt. I packed a few things into my backpack and went downstairs to hop in the van. This week, I worked with Crystal Eye Clinic in villages around Takoradi. We were in the western region of Ghana, near Cote d'Ivoire, and I loved every minute I was privileged to spend there.

Along the way, I had about four hours to discuss anything I wanted to with Ernest, the optometrist that leads the Crystal Eye Clinic outreach team. Along the ride, we talked about everything from the situation with the NBA Finals (I can't believe it's the Cavs and Warriors again...wowza) to healthcare, education, and family life in Ghana. Some interesting topics were things like how he imports old cars from the U.S.A. (he currently drives a Ford Explorer), fixes them (it's super cheap to service cars here), drives them for five years, then sells them for twice as much as he bought them for (American cars appreciate rather than depreciate here-who knows why??!). We also talked a lot about how he grew up with a father who had four wives, extremely poor, and in the middle of nowhere. While we were talking, I couldn't help but think more about how it's amazing how different each person's life can be. His upbringing, from a "storybook" perspective, couldn't be more different than mine, but on the other hand, he still talked about similar concerns, worries, and problems that I went through. Despite living in poverty, he said he never felt hungry, worried about being sick/without healthcare, and he was never in fear of not having a place to live. He said he never felt poor or deprived of any opportunities. He expressed gratitude and love for a father and other family members who raised him, taught him about the gospel, and gave him opportunities to work/grow. He spoke of loving parents who helped support him through college and other times throughout his life. His experiences were all unique, individual, and personal, but the specific lessons and principles he learned were extremely similar to my own upbringing.

My experience in Takoradi was incredible! Each day, we went to a different village within a couple hours driving from Takoradi and worked as hard as we could to see as many patients as possible. We saw at least 400 hundred patients each day, and we only had one optometrist and one ophthalmic nurse working to do refractions/prescribe medicine. Here is a general schedule of what my day looks like:

6:30-Wake up, pray, sing, smile, and ask my roommate if he had any cool dreams. Then I quickly wash my head in the sink, brush my teeth, pack up my backpack by filling bottles of water from small, little, plastic bags of purified water and wait under the fan until the van comes to pick us up.

7:00-Leave for the outreach in the van
        While driving in the van, we often get "breakfast" from people who walk in between the cars at stop lights selling fried dough, plantains, fruit, rice, fish, etc. My favorite breakfast is a sticky rice with beans (called waakye-no idea how to spell it) with some avocado mixed in.

~10:00-Arrive at the outreach point
             Almost every single outreach has been in a relatively small town, and we've set our supplies/tables up inside and around a church. Sometimes the drive only takes an hour, but other times we've driven three or four hours, especially when traffic gets bad (or the roads are crazy).

10:20-Unpack everything and arrange the medication, glasses, visual acuity testing area, registration, etc. while Ernest and the local coordinator speak to everybody about how everything will go.

10:35-Begin seeing patients

          For the next 8-10 hours (we worked 15 hours one day!) I'd either help patients have their visual acuity tested before they see the optometrist, assist the optometrist, or help to dispense medication/glasses after they finish seeing the optometrist. Occasionally, we'll get too far ahead with visual acuity, so we have to take a small break and grab some snacks, play with children, or just talk to patients about anything. For the most part, we're working the whole day.

7-9:30-Finish seeing patients, dispensing medication, doing refractions, and dispensing glasses. We also add up the money, take inventory of the medication/glasses, and drive back to the Telecentre.

8:30-11-Arrive at the Telecentre. Pray that the water and power are still on so that I can shower as fast as possible and wash your clothes out in the sink.

11:30-12:30-Hug the staff that have become family, pray, and smile as I fall asleep looking forward to the next day!

On the weekends, we've gone on hikes, visited the temple, went to the markets, played soccer with the locals, visited the beach, went swimming, and played games with the hotel staff. Our daily schedule sometimes starts earlier, ends later, or things change as far as timing goes, but for the most part, the work is relatively the same and consistent.

Anyways, like I said, Takoradi was an amazing experience. We saw over 1600 patients in four days, and every single day was full of rewarding moments. On Wednesday, we were in the middle of a town and in a central location. Rather than being in an isolated village where only one tribe lived, we catered to many different tribes and people from different backgrounds. It was absolute mayhem. People were shoving in line, yelling at each other, fistfights broke out, and everybody tried to tell us they didn't have money to pay for the medicine. It was sickening to watch everybody clamor, push, and fight every few minutes as the line would shift. Older women and men who were literally blind and disabled were trampled on, and everything got out of hand. Usually, the local coordinators do a very good job of organizing everybody-they make sure the young students and elderly are seen first, then the patients that had surgeries last month, and then the general population comes last. Wednesday, there was no order to anything, and it was just one of those days where we were working as hard and fast as we could, but nobody seemed pleased, grateful, or happy.

Thursday was a completely different story. We traveled a few hours to the very edge of the country, and we stopped at a schoolhouse in a small village. It was very luscious with tall grass, trees, and tropical plants everywhere! It was also like a sauna, and bugs were constantly either crawling on me or sticking to me because of my sweaty skin. It was absolutely beautiful, and over 400 hundred people sat waiting, patiently waiting to be examined. In this town, there were more blind people than I've ever helped before, but I was also astonished by their humble, grateful, joyful attitude and education level. Most of them understood English very well, and not one person mumbled, complained, or yelled the whole day. Every single one of them was gracious and kind.

At around one o'clock, I started to get a little hungry, and I started seeing the people that were still waiting to be seen as one big mass of work. I thought to myself, "I'm hungry, a little tired, and I don't even want to think about how late we're going to finish tonight..." I might've even groaned a bit. Just at that moment, an eighty-year-old lady walked up to the table, hobbling a little with a severely hunched back. She was beaming. Kids always have a way of making me smile, but even their toothy grins couldn't hold a candle to this kind aunty's glowing smile. She just kind of moved her hands, showed me her prescription and laughed when I told her how much it would cost in Twi. I found the correct glasses, helped her adjust them on her face and handed her the New Testament to see if they helped her with her reading. Her eyes got all big and she just let out a little gasp of surprise as she started reading the verses out loud. When we were all done (this whole process couldn't have been more than two minutes, and other patients were scrambling on either side of us as they were helped by the other volunteers), I just said, "Medasi, Sister (thank you)!" She literally jumped a little bit and scrunched her face up into the happiest expression you could ever imagine. It's moments like those that remind me that it's a privilege to be here, and I'm also playing a small part in truly changing somebody's life for the better.

Thank you to everybody who has played any part in my life-I'm grateful for the doctors who helped my parents as I was born. I'm grateful for teachers, parents who volunteered at my schools, and parents of my friends who took care of me, drove me everywhere, and organized activities. I'm grateful for coaches who pushed me physically and mentally in order to overcome barriers and limits that lead to growth in other areas of my life. I'm grateful for my neighbors/church leaders who helped me learn more about Christ, moral standards, and practical skills that have benefitted me. I'm grateful for random strangers I've encountered and learned from on this crazy journey I've been on. Most of all, I'm grateful for my family. I am so blessed!

Lastly, thank you to all of you who made financial contributions through me to Unite for Sight. I have personally witnessed the donations put to use, and I have personally helped with the accounting process to ensure the funds are all accounted for and used specifically for medical care. Being able to screen a father, mother, child, or grandparent, walk them through the process, observe their surgery, then visit them a month later and witness incredible improvement in their eyesight has been an absolute miracle and blessing. It is AMAZING!! The people here are so hardworking, and not one of them expect to receive anything for free. Unite for Sight doesn't discriminate or put too many limits on how Crystal Eye Clinic (and other partner clinics) carry out the actual cataract procedures, but Crystal Eye Clinic chooses to use some of the funds to help subsidize something like a cataract surgery for only one of the eyes, but they rarely help pay for both eyes. It's cool to see some patients who had one eye operated on months ago reenter the workforce, save money, and come back to us ready, willing, and excited to pay for surgery on their other eye.

I hope you all have a great week! Take care!

(~1933 words)

Unanticipated Situations=Important Learning Opportunities

*This post is detailing 5/21-5/25. I haven't had internet access for the past week or so, but I'll try to post a few more times with more experiences that I've had!

The past few days have been filled with lots of unexpected events that I could have never anticipated, but I've learned a lot, and I'm grateful for the experiences and responsibilities I've been entrusted with.

This month, in the Accra region around where we're staying, there is a tradition of not disturbing the ghosts/spirits, so for one month there cannot be loud drums, music, announcements, etc. in the streets or in the churches (next month a different part of Ghana will honor this tradition, then another part, and so forth out of respect for the spirits). On Monday, I woke up feeling refreshed, excited and ready to go. After driving for a couple hours, we arrived at a beautiful, two-story church covered in exquisite stones and topped with a cross. When we looked inside, in contrast to the hundreds of patients we've grown accustomed to seeing, there were only about ten people. The local coordinator responsible for the advertising and reservation of the venue greeted us in our van and explained that he was unable to get the word out for fear of disturbing the ghosts. We ended up leaving after just a few hours and only helped about 20 patients. Thankfully, on our drive home, we stopped at a local radio broadcasting station, gave them a notice of where we'd be tomorrow, and asked them to help us make announcements over the radio.

Tuesday, I woke up twice as excited as on Monday because I was eager to make up for the relatively unproductive experience we had yesterday. I scarfed down a couple pieces of toast and Milo for breakfast, hopped in the van, and sang songs with the other volunteers all the way to the outreach site. As soon as we got there, it was chaos. The village chief told us we weren't welcome, we had to find a new venue, and all of the patients that were in need of treatment were unable to find us and receive help. It was another day of only seeing about 20 people, and at this point, the staff and the rest of the team were incredibly annoyed and grumpy. There was a nice man that rode by on a moto selling coke and small packets of ice cream, but even that couldn't cheer everyone up. You know it's rough when ice cream doesn't solve the problem.

To make a long story short, when we showed up to the outreach site on Wednesday, there was another NGO with a banner advertising St. Thomas (the eye clinic I'm with right now), Unite for Sight (the NGO I'm working with that's partnered with St. Thomas), and other unorthodox medicine practices that Unite for Sight/St. Thomas doesn't support or have a license to perform. We contacted some of our coordinators to inquire about the situation, and meetings with the police, administration, investigators, and the ophthalmologist who owns St. Thomas ensued. It was a hectic morning, but somehow, the sun peaked out in the afternoon, and we ended up seeing more than one hundred patients. I was frazzled by everything going on, but we finished the day playing "Simon Says", "Down by the Banks", and swing dancing with a bunch of kids. My skin was rosy red from the sun, and there was a smile on my face.

Over the past few days, I've learned important lessons about preparation, communication, honesty, and integrity. As a clinic, they should have planned to be in a different area this month because of the unavoidable obstacle of not being able to advertise and get the word out without disturbing the spirits here in Accra. Secondly, with all of the problems that we had to deal with in relation to the other NGO and false advertising/impersonation, it could have all been avoided if people were honest and open from the start. Instead, others chose to ignore the problem, hoping that it would go away, but instead, it exploded into something a lot bigger than it needed to be. I know, without a doubt, that integrity is the first trait that I want to structure my life around. With integrity, we gain trust from others, we learn to trust in the Lord, we are able to serve, develop faith, work hard, and feel the Spirit in our lives. Without integrity, everything else that's good in our life will tumble down when the bad seeds we've sown catch up to us.

I love living in Ghana! I am learning a lot more than I ever expected I would about who I am, what I care about, how I want to live my life, and how to work well with others. I am so grateful for this privilege that I've been given. Have a great week, everybody!

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!!