Climbing Mountains

This past weekend marked our final voyage of exploring the corners of Ghana. We set off on Friday for the Volta Region in the east and after making our way through the stalls of eager merchants in the Centre for National Culture to buy some souvenirs in Accra, we took a seven hour tro tro ride to Hohoe in Volta. The trip was not supposed to take that long, but getting out of Accra took approximately an hour and a half, which is absolutely ridiculous! Our driver decided to take the oddest round about route, zigzagging through random side streets in an attempt to shorten the way out. We ended up driving past the Kotoka International Airport which we had not been near since we arrived here. Millions of thoughts rolled through my mind as we drove by: we have less than two weeks left in Ghana, we have so much to do before we leave, we have so many people to say goodbye to, we have so much to look forward to with final activities with the school and the graduation ceremony for the literacy program.

On Saturday we took a taxi (since tros were scarce) to the base of Afadjato Mountain, the highest peak in Ghana, right on the Togolese border. We followed our 15 year old tour guide out onto the path through the forest and began the hour and 15 minute ascent. As we climbed, many connections were made between our hike and our semester here. There was a sign at the bottom of the mount that told us to take a deep breath as we were about to climb 882 m upwards. I remember taking a deep breath before we boarded our plane in Toronto to come here. It seemed as though we had a long way to go. The path up Afadjato was incredibly steep and consisted of large and small rocks scattered across the dirt which gave our thighs a thorough workout. We had to take large strides to reach the next good rock or sturdy tree root. The same happened for us when we first arrived here. We were not used to the culture that we were thrown into. We had to quickly overcome the initial shock of being called by the colour of our skin and we learned how to enjoy walking down the street and having to wave or say good morning to every person we meet (and that's a lot). We cannot step outside of this house (and sometimes I can't even go outside of my room) without people being there and talking to us because we are white and they are curious about our culture. It was an incredibly big step to begin teaching both the women and the children and to step into the shoes of the previous interns. Just last week Kujo was sick and had to go to the clinic during our literacy class, so I taught Mama Vida solo. Those first big steps prepared me for taking on the class alone and to form the relationship with her that I have. As we climbed the mountain, my legs seemed to get stronger with each step. They were tired, yes, but they were motivated to keep moving.

There were signs posted along the rocky path up to the peak of Afadjato that told us how far we had come, and not long into our trip we reached the sign that said we had come 216 m, a quarter of the way up. A quarter of the way into our internship here, I was still in transition mode. The food was different, the lifestyle was different (like different modes of transportation, for example. Taxis here don't cost like two bucks just for sitting in it,) and we were just beginning different friendships and meeting new acquaintances. What a comparison to now! There are certain people along the road to school or into town that we specifically say hi to as we pass (in addition to responding to the continuous chant of "obruni!") and we know their names and receive hugs from their kids. There is a group of about six children down the road on the way to town who used to immediately follow their "obruni!" with, "Give me bicycle!" We tend to stop almost every time we pass them now and they no longer ask for bicycles, but they just want to give us a high five or a quick hug or say, "How are you?" We pass Auntie Sophia (Belinda's mother) sitting by the junction on the way to school every morning, selling water. She always gives us a big smile and wave and we stop to ask how her day went on the way back home. May is always eager to welcome us at her shop and we've stopped asking her for phone credit or plantain chips - now we simply go and get whatever we need ourselves and leave the money where we know we should put it. We can jump right into crazy conversations with her and Faustina (the wonderful lady who braided our hair), can be down right ridiculous with them and not be afraid of making a fool of ourselves. I thought that these friendships wouldn't happen when we were at the quarter mark.

One of the girls that I climbed the mountain with has asthma and we had to stop quite a few times for her to catch her breath and she wasn't feeling very well. There have been plenty of times when we have had to take a break during our time here in Asamankese and try to return our breathing to its regular rhythm. I have often felt as though I am incapable of filling the shoes of the previous interns and that I wasn't benefiting the women or children at all by being here. The enemy likes to discourage us by saying that the small work that we're doing is not worthwhile, but it's quite on the contrary. We do not have to see huge steps being taken in the learning of our students, but we can just rest in the thought that our small contributions will take root and will one day produce fruit. Maybe one day the Muslim children in my class will remember the stories of Jesus that I am telling them and they will see how divine Jesus really is. One day the women will be able to read novels, even though all I can read with them right now are simple sentences. Had we given up and remained in that state of taking a breather, thinking that we couldn't do it, we wouldn't have seen the small steps that we've seen taken.

It felt good to keep going after a break while climbing Afadjato. We were sweating like we've never sweat before and the air that our bodies cut through as we climbed cooled us down. There were often mornings that I woke up and felt as though it was just another day, another 17 hours that needed to pass before I could go back to sleep. There were times when I didn't want to go out of my room so that I didn't have to interact with the many people again, but in God's marvelous working power, it was never as bad as I expected it to be to start going again after a break. Walking down the street should be an incredibly draining experience for me (and it often is), but I've learned the importance of smiling and I've realized that it can actually cheer you up even to put on a forced smile and to stop and see the people as individuals, not just an entire community of people who exclaim at seeing a white person all the time. It has been more refreshing to continue than I expected.

We've had to push ourselves on everyday. If I didn't lift my feet as I placed foot in front of foot up Afadjato, I would trip. I caught my toes on the rocks a few times as a result of not lifting my feet high enough as I walked. We couldn't shuffle through this internship either. Conversations have had to be intentional. Words have had to be carefully chosen so that these ESL people could understand us. Visits have had to be initiated and lesson plans have had to be carefully thought through. Malachi 1:7-9 talks about how we ought to offer our best to God. We have had to do things with excellence while here and we've had to offer everything to God, for we can do nothing of lasting value on our own. We couldn't pay attention to the sweat that was wetting our clothes, but we had to just keep going.

And then we reached the final sign, saying that we had reached the top of the highest mountain in Ghana. We broke through the forest and into the bright, hot sun and could only stand in awe of the breathtaking scene that we saw spread out before us. The mountain range was a depth of shades of green and the flat landscape that was the Volta Region swelled my heart with love for Ghana. We peered into Togo, another country, from the heights of Afadjato. We have peered into another culture during our time here in Ghana. The climb was incredibly worth it and the view was beyond words as we thanked God for His marvelous creation. The challenges of this internship, mingled with the many joys, have made this internship incredibly worth it. It is beyond words what we have experienced and learned and all we can do is thank God for every minute of it and for every breath we have taken of Ghanaian air.