Turtles, Stilts and Heaven's Shores

Last weekend we took the long trip (8.5 hours there, 11 hours back) to  the Western Region of Ghana, incredibly close to the border of the Ivory Coast in the west. We drove and walked down the red dirt roads and paths to Beyin Beach Resort which would be our home base for three days. Picture an episode of "Survivor" with all of the board walks, thatch-roofed huts/cabins and everything made out of bamboo poles. The roar of the Atlantic Ocean was in our ears as we ate, slept, read, journaled and swam and regained our focus and our sanity. Beyin is known as being a safe place for turtles, which can be seen laying their eggs in the soft, sandy beach after nightfall and whose babies are protected as they run from their nests to the crashing waters of the ocean. Apparently the season for viewing turtles at Beyin is between August and March, so we figured that we had a decent chance of spotting one or two. Negatory. Unfortunately. But we did have quite the adventure creeping down to the beach late at night on a turtle hunt.

Nearby to the town of Beyin is Nzulezo, a village built on stilts on the corner of a lake. Home to 600 people, the village is constructed entirely of wood (be careful lighting a match!), has three churches and a primary school. Under the leadership of our guide, Solomon, we climbed into a wooden canoe and paddled out onto a deeply quiet canal. I don't think that I have ever been in such serenity. The peace and stillness of that stretch of water, listening to the melodic sound of the paddles dipping gracefully and easily into the canal and the sight of the jungles, marshes and palm tree forests that we passed through caused some of the stressful thoughts and pent up emotions to evaporate into the silent air.

After about an hour of working out our arm muscles while paddling, we spotted the stilt village and climbed onto the small, wooden dock, welcomed by a young, naked boy and his brother who wanted to shake our hands. That was the most welcoming gesture that we received in Nzulezo. Most of the inhabitants seemed displeased at our presence and we did not receive the same "obruni! obruni!" treatment that we attract everywhere else in Ghana. I can understand the reasoning behind their discontent: here are strangers (white ones at that) who have paid money to come and scope out their homes. I would wager that hundreds of people come everyday to view their living situation, and that village is incredibly small, so it would be impossible to avoid tourists. We were respectful to not take pictures of people without asking, though I was bombarded by a group of young children who all wanted me to take their picture and give my hand a high five that could have been hard enough to break a bone. There is one main "road" (appearing more like a long dock) in Nzulezo and each diversion off of it belongs to one family. The living quarters would be on the right side of the "road" and the cooking area on the left. The school was found at the end of the village where children can attend up until Primary 6. In order to attend Junior or Senior high school, students will have to paddle the hour out down the canal that we had travelled, abandon their canoes in the wetlands and walk the rest of the way to the town and to school. Most of the children of Nzulezo will grow up to remain in the village, just as their ancestors have done for about 600 years! The living situation seems to be quite cyclical and I'm not entirely sure why the children would go to school if they won't even do anything with their education but instead become fishermen, farmers and mothers. But who am I to judge the lifestyle of these people?

We spent a significant amount of time on the beach, soaking up the sun and the waves. I dubbed the place, "Heaven's Shores," for the awesome, picturesque location, the endless beach that faded into a haze, the tall palm trees that reached up to brush the clouds and the waters that spread out farther than the eye could possibly see reminded me of the waters at the threshold of Aslan's Land in "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader". The breath-taking sunsets, the power of the thundering waves and the expanse of sea that continues, unhindered, until the icy shores of Antarctica had a way of bringing my imagination back to life and my heart to swell at the anticipation of what heaven will actually be like. If such a perfect place exists on Earth, how much more speechless will we be when we dwell in heaven's beauty, shining in the golden light of God's presence? It is certainly something that gives us hope and encourages us to press on and do the work, as little Christs in this world, that God has called us to do in Matthew 28.