Our last weekend in Ghana we drove from Kumasi to Accra on a road that led through old growth jungle to the sea.
Bishop A. told us that the jungle was home to leopards, baboons, monkeys, antelope and pythons.
When asked what you would do if your car broke down on that narrow little road through the jungle,
Bishop replied, “You don’t get out of the car. Robbers like this road too!”
Needless to say, we were glad we had no car trouble!
Sunday morning we ministered in a fishing village called Winneba, located not too far from Accra.
The beauty of its location by the sea was almost overshadowed by the extreme poverty seen there.
The little church had many young men, so excited about serving Jesus.
Imagine our surprise when, just before my husband got up to preach, they all left!
Bishop leaned over and whispered that they are part of a soccer team, and there was a big game that day.
After church we were told that the ladies from the church had made us lunch.
I was a bit nervous, not knowing what to expect.
(Ghanaians eat grass cutter and snails, which I’d been able to avoid so far.)
It was really delicious.
On Monday, all of the traveling to villages and ministering was over, and we were able to enjoy some rest and relaxation with our daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren
before saying good-bye to them and catching our flight home on Tuesday night.
In Accra, we booked some rooms at a Ramada Resort on the beach, and not too far from the airport.
It was surreal driving through the gate in a large wall, and into a whole other world.
In this world there was not only running water, there was hot water too.
There were not just towels, but white, fluffy towels that had been machine washed and dried.
There were not just beds, but beds covered in clean white sheets and topped with soft, downy, white comforters.
There was even air conditioning.
And a swimming pool!
And everything was clean!
Part of me wanted to forget about the world outside of the wall.
Part of me wanted to pretend I hadn’t seen, hadn’t noticed,
the whole village of shacks built on top of the dump we had passed on the way.
Part of me wanted to just focus on the beauty of the sea,
and ignore the obvious that I was still in Ghana, which is ranked among the 30 poorest nations of the world.
Today, I’m home in my cozy, little home in Portland, Oregon, USA.
(And no, I never did eat grass cutter or snail, though I did eat goat twice!)
Ghana is approximately the same size as Oregon.
Oregon has just under four million people.
Ghana has just under twenty five million people.
I can’t forget them.
I can’t pretend I didn’t see them.
I can’t ignore them.