I love jet lag.  At 3am, I was sprawled across the bed, enjoying the cool swirl of air and mechanical ticking of the ceiling fan directly above us. For that instant, I almost felt cool.  The branches of the mango tree outside made a lovely stage for a duo of singing birds.  The polished tile floor was a cool gift to my feet.  I made some instant coffee, dressed, and crept out of our room with my journal.  A couple of hours drifted by while I wrote in my journal, read, prayed, and listened to the roosters competing with the mango duo.  This afternoon, when the equatorial sun is roasting the pavement and I’m woozy and dehydrated, I’ll crack open an authentic Coke Cola, made with cane sugar, something I only enjoy in Ghana.  And this evening, when we arrive at a guest house, sticky, salty, sleepy, and wondering how our luggage got so heavy, I’ll revive myself with a bucket of cold water shower.  Jet lag is a wonderful gift.  If only I could enjoy jet lag as my daily routine in the burbs. 

By noon we had paid our excess baggage fees at the airport and boarded the flight to Tamale, in the Northern part of Ghana. Ray had been tied up and was still driving, so Joshua and Enoch hired a car and met us at the airport in Tamale when we landed. Joshua is Mamprusi, and has worked with us in Ghana more than anyone else. A few years ago, we left him a small lapel microphone and digital recorder, so he could start filling in audio tracks that we had missed, for example in Gonjaland, when we could not find a qualified nurse to provide the community health information. Joshua uploaded the tracks to the Internet, and we added them to the BiblePlus+ collection for Gonja. On this trip, we hope to teach Joshua and Enoch even more, and encourage them to start developing a library of content in the many languages of Northern Ghana.

The driver took us to the guest house where the rest of the team was working. It was a joyful time of catch-up, learning what everyone had been doing since the last time we were in Ghana 1.5 yrs ago, and meeting the new team members. I’ll take their photos in the morning.

At golden hour, about 5:00 here near the equator, Beth and I went for a walk in the neighborhood surrounding the guest house. We immediately made new friends from the Dagomba tribe. Their mother tongue is Dagbani, but they older girls had learned some English in school.

After a period of intense shyness and even some tears as we walked toward them, their fear turned to smiles. They brought us to a circle of chairs in a dusty red dirt road in front of the mosque and asked us to tell them a story.

We also took a walk around the neighborhood. New friends. They grabbed our hands and giggled and laughed as we walked. How easy it is to make friends after fear is overcome. A smile and holding the hand of a new friend. Life can be so simple and beautiful.

It’s past midnight here, and I just finished my cold shower. I’m still hoping for jet lag. Good night.