New Chapter

I know the name of this post is super cheesy, but I couldn't think of anything else to call this collection of musings about my current state.  I've just moved into my new house, for good this time, and connected to the internet successfully, and I feel quite contemplative.
I woke up this morning really missing Africa.  The goodbye is just feeling so real today.  I am quick to adapt but slow to truly change.  This was apparent in the way I quickly embraced African culture and lifestyle, but right at the end of the month I began to struggle because I needed to adjust on a deeper level to be comfortable again.  So it is now; I was quick to adapt to my previous lifestyle once back in the States, but it's taken a little longer for the change to really sink in.  It's really starting to hit me that I am probably not going back to Ghana for a really long time.  And I miss it.  I miss it so friggin much.
Sigh.
I am so super glad to be living in this house, though.  My loan was finally dispersed today, so I can pay my rent.  Phew!  My boxes are still piled up in the closet and in the living room, but I don't care.  I know that eventually my organizational self will create some kind of order to it all.  And I feel that I have time to do that for once.  For some reason, all my other moves felt rushed... which doesn't make any sense because I definitely had time after both of them to make sure things got to their places.  Maybe because I moved my furniture in last week and I just have to put stuff in/on it now.  Either way.  I feel good about this.
And while we're on the subject of things I feel good about, allow me to say that I am pee-in-my-pants excited to start classes!  I'm going to be a music major!  Me!  Who saw that coming??  Oh, I'm so happy.  I've never been this excited for school to start in my whole life, I think.  I'm going to like what I'm studying.  Absolutely unheard of!  Oh God, I cannot think of it too much, or I'll never get to sleep.  I'm like a kid on Christmas Eve.  And my presents?  Music!  Choir rehearsals!  Voice lessons!  Oh, it is too much to bear!  To much goodness and happiness!  Thank God for that, or I would be booking my depressed little self a flight back to Africa by now.

Africa: My Return

Well, I've been back at home for a little over a week now.  I've been trying to think of something meaningful to say about returning to the US of A, but nothing has come to mind.  I loved my time in Ghana and I'm sure it's changed me in many ways.  I just haven't seen the effects of those changes yet.
Here are the things that I miss the most about Ghana:
- the drums and the dancing at Mass
- the good hearts of the people of Dafor
- Fada's homilies
- the music playing almost constantly
- the children flocking around
- the beauty of the landscape
- the animals, esp. the cute baby ones
- carrying stuff on my head
- the outdoor showers
- the foam mattresses
- not being self-conscious about the way I look (or smell hahaha)
- laughing through meals with the mission team
- the mission team in general

And now, before I get too depressed about being back in the States, here are a few things that I really missed about this place:
- my makeup, clothes, and shoes, esp. the heels
- the food, esp. the variety and quantity of food
- my family, talking to my sisters about everything
- singing as much as I want to
- personal independence in general
- air conditioning
- good hospitals

I hope I get to go back.  I don't know when or how, but I know that I want to go back.  Ghana felt like home to me, and I don't think I'll ever be perfectly happy in the US or Ghana ever again, now that pieces of my heart are in both places.

Africa: Preach the Gospel Always...

This morning I said goodbye to the village that has been my home for the past two weeks.  Mass was a glorious affair, with drumming and singing and dancing, even though it's obviously not a Sunday.  I will never get over how beautiful He is in the Eucharist in the humble setting of the chapel there in Dafor.  His glory shines all the brighter, His generosity and goodness all the more apparent for the crude surroundings He humbles Himself to visit.  After Mass, Father gave a beautiful talk about the gratitude of the village and the impact our presence had made on them, and I cried.  The women presented us with beads as going away presents, and I cried more.  The children gathered around for a picture, and... I absolutely sobbed.
Father told us that one day, as he was driving, it occurred to him that there are twelve of us, just as there are twelve apostles.  He said that we were just like them, spreading the Gospel to the people of Dafor, yes, occasionally with our words, but more often with our actions. 
Not everyone in Dafor is Catholic, or even Christian.  Many of the men who worked alongside us on the church floor were not.  Our presence there was particularly baffling to them.  We have everything they want; why would we give it all up and actually pay to come work for free in their tiny little village?  How could we toil away at work to which we clearly were unaccustomed, day after day, always with smiles on our faces?  Why would we willingly submit ourselves to manual labor, stirring cement with shovels and carrying sand in pans on our heads?  The answer to these questions could be seen in the schedule we kept throughout our time in the village.  Our lives revolved around prayer: daily Mass, daily Eucharistic Adoration, and praise and worship on some evenings.  Our hunger for the Eucharist and the strength that it gave us to carry on served as a living example for all, a witness to His power and His love. 
Yet how much more exemplary was the generosity and the spirituality of the villagers!  They gave up so much for us to make us feel welcome.  One of the village elders gave up his home so the men would have a place to sleep.  Various parishioners were always bringing us bananas, pineapple, coconuts, or ground nuts (peanuts), and stopping by to greet us during meals and breaks.  When several of us were sick, their concern was apparent at every meeting.  The neighbors around the women's house constantly folded our laundry while we were gone for the day or filled up our water barrels.  Our cook made two meals a day (breakfast was simple most days) for all twelve of us every day, and before we met the Bishop of the Ho Diocese, she made dresses for all seven of us girls in a mere 24 hours!  Then, when the one girl had malaria, she stayed by her side for all five days of her hospital visit, buying food and cooking, leaving her 3-year-old daughter in her mother's care.  And the entire time, she wore a beautiful smile.  There are countless stories of these wonderful men and women giving of themselves completely.  If only I could learn to imitate their generous spirit! 
So perhaps we didn't get the chance to evangelize with words as some of us would have liked.  Perhaps our contribution to the church structure was meager.  Regardless of any disappointments or troubles we may have met along the way, both we and the villagers have benefited greatly from our time with them.
And God, I'm going to miss those kids.