I’m trying this text message first, and if it works, I hope to add some pictures later. We are on the very very edge of cell connectivity, north of Yendi. We a litte tree climbing, the MiFi can get a bit of signal. I’m on the ground with my laptop :-)

By 7:30 we were on the road, driving to Yendi. We shared the road with bicycles, motorbikes, and massive trucks straining at the load of people and goods. Villages along the way had erected their own speed bumps, made from rocks, logs, clay.

A few kilometers north of Yendi, we dropped off 1/2 of our gear at a small catholic training center and guest house that has been here more than 50 years. They were very friendly, and we explored the accomodations and met a group of about 20 local pastors on a training retreat. It could make a convenient base camp for visiting groups.

The blacktop ends here at Yendi. Clouds of red dust roll and swirl behind our 4×4 as we bump along the road north into Komba-land. Ray puts the Wheaton Gospel Choir into the CD. Small subsistence farms line the road. Yam fields are easily identified by the 1ft high mounds of dirt under which the yams grow. It is a vital staple here. Along-side the road, small stacks of the hard, dense tuber are for sale. In the small villages, extended families often live in small mud huts with thatched roofs arranged into a semi-circle, with chest-high walls connecting the huts.

Living here is hard work, and during the dry season, it appears to revolve around water. Many of the villages have wells, and women in colorful dresses or t-shirts and skirts are perpetually gathering water. 5 gallon buckets are hefted up to their heads and carried back to their homes. Sometimes tiny brown feet can be seen peeking out of bundles on their mom’s back. The smallest kids are toted around while mom works. Older kids entertain themselves if they are not in school. Toys can be invented from nearly anything. A small loop of barbed wire can be chased down the road with a stick; a cardboard box can be dragged while running; and old oil barrel can be used as a teeter-totter.

In Zamashegu we met Pastor Paul and cought a glimpse of Ray’s home. We also explored the building we will set up and use for recording. There is a small medical outpost run by a couple nurses who received two years of training in Tamale. They ride motorbikes to the surrounding villages vaccinating children. A recent measles outbreak in a nearby village had nurse Suzie particularly busy. The nurses have offered us a small unused building to use as our recording studio.

Without much delay, we hopped back into the truck and headed further north, toward a village whose name I forgot to write down. There, we visit a small group of pastors to make arrangements. They welcomed us for a minute or two, then Ray proclaimed “we come in peace; we have no bad news”. Ray noticed our puzzled look. He explained that it is tradition that after being welcomed, you clearly state your purpose. After some discussion, we agreed to return on Wednesday to record one of the pastors reading Luke in Komba. Excellent!

Before leaving the village, we pick up three other friends of Pastor Paul, who we will record singing and telling their stories. On the way back to Zamashegu, someone had to ride in the back of the truck, in the red dust. I volunteered, but they would have none of it. Instead, I took my turn driving as the sun slowly colored the grasses and huts a wonderful amber.

So… it is time to head to breakfast. I woke up to the sound of drums in the distance…. at about 3:30am. They continued until daybreak. Pray for a productive day.