It is that time again! The tickets for Ghana 2023 have been purchased. We make plans, then we change plans. Then we invent new plans. But currently, the idea is to visit Saboba, a small town on the Eastern side of North Ghana, just about a mile from Togo (GPS: 9.70699974238721, 0.3164630604677306). The language there is Anufo. We also plan to visit Sawla, a larger town on the Western side of North Ghana, about 20 miles from Côte d’Ivoire (GPS: 9.272612117072114, -2.414114237623558). In that area, Ghanians speak Birifor. I better prep my International Driver’s license and practice my safari driving ahead of the January trip. I think we can expect a big, eventful, adventure. Mike and his daughter Joanna will be joining us. We have a lot to prepare.

Our previous trips are archived here.

There is a rhythm, a pattern that I seem to rediscover each time we begin the journey to Africa. The blue “Purchase” button on the United Airlines website is the critical first step.  Commitment.  We will go. Ambiguous phrases such as “we are hoping” and “we intend to” or “it might work out that we go to Africa” are suddenly replaced with words that make an anxious tug every time we speak them aloud to family, friends, and colleagues: “we are going to Ghana on January 12^th”.  From that mouse click until arrive in Africa, we are preparing – our hearts, our gear, our work. Commitment.  Preparation.  Ray and the team in Ghana prepare local choirs, Bible stories, the 4×4 truck, guest houses, and local pastors.  From our side of the planet, Beth and I focus on logistics and technology, from the spare microphone to the azithromycin.

Growing up in Galesburg Illinois, surrounded by farms, prairies, and a patchwork of hardwood forests, I often dreamed of worlds far away. Heinlein and Asimov took me to planets with clever robots and blasters. I joined Heyerdahl sailing the pacific on a raft of balsa.  Wonderful stories, both imagined and true. Narratives that cracked open the possible.  Yet for me, those stories focused me on the technical – the gear, the maps, the skills required.  Read the appendix of “Through the Brazilian Wilderness” by Theodore Roosevelt if you want a meticulous, if not occasionally tedious, explanation of expedition outfitting, from the books and maps to the knives and clothes used by Roosevelt during his harrowing exploration.

Africa has taught me that the most essential preparation for the work in Ghana is my heart.  Preparation has a list.  My heart? There is no checklist.  We have spreadsheets and timelines for gear and travel.  But is my heart ready? No. Adrenaline, anxiety, and nine checked bags keep me planning and preparing.  Thoughts about work at the Lab keep the nooks and crannies of my mind racing. My narrative is still physical — an unfolding story driven by Roosevelt-style provisioning and learning.

My heart. I’m unprepared.  Time for prayer and quiet. 

A quick summary of a long day. It is easy to forget the remoteness of Northern Ghana. After a short one hour flight from Accra we were in Tamale, looking for our bags. It is hot and dry. No rain. No clouds. Just equatorial sun and smiling faces. Look a Ghanaian in the eyes and offer an energetic Good Morning, and a beaming smile will always be returned. Beth and I decided it was the opposite of walking down a the street of a large American city. In Ghana, people are eager to engage.

Mike and Joanna are doing great on their first trip to Ghana. They have learned our expression “That’s just the way I like it,” which we eagerly call out after someone points out something uncomfortable or difficult.

I took over driving from Ray, so he could get a break. He had driven all the way from Accra days earlier. Driving is always a challenge (and that’s just the way I like it). Even with intense focus on the road, looking for hidden holes, speed bumps, and goats, I occasionally struck a hole hard enough for Mike to get bumped out of his seat and whack his head on the roof of the truck (which is just the way he likes it). We were thinking I was maybe averaging about 16 miles per roof whack.

Throughout the day we noticed many brush fires set by hunters waiting to club grasscutters and large rats. Ray explained it is not legal, and very dangerous, since the fires can easily get out of control and burn huts and towns.

Clement is one of the OneWay Africa missionaries. He spends his days engaging with the people of Chereponi, a village among the Anufo people. He met with the pastors and leaders of the churches in the area to prepare them for our recordings. People practiced telling their testimonies, Bible Stories and teachings as well as Community Health Information. Oh, and of course one of our favorites of the recording trips, the choirs! Today we presented him with a gift from OneWay, a “Vista 500,” which contains everything needed to show videos in the bush from Jesus Film Project and LUMO Gospel Films. In the evenings, he rides his motor bike off into remote villages to show these movies. Good job, Clement, preparing the people for the recordings, and sharing God’s love with the Anufo people!!

My heart is full. I’m prepared for Sunday morning.

Such a wonderful Sunday. Hard work. Long hours, and worth every moment. Pictures first, and **movies** (they are fun!), story below.

WOW! Such a wonderfully full and joy filled day of solid work. Thanks to the amazing work of Clement and the local pastors and choir leaders from all of the churches in the Chereponi area, we were booked solid, all day, just the way we like it. In our first day of recording, we left with 33 tracks. From early morning with a small church where Mike preached, to a hilltop where we recorded choirs and Bible stories into the night, we were busy dancing, recording, and learning about the unique Anufo people. Every tribe is different. Sometimes it is easy for me to think of the many languages across Ghana, and forget that each culture, each tribe, has their own customs, music, and food. In many ways it is like Europe, with French, German, Italian, Norwegian, and Portuguese all getting squished into a country the size of Oregon. Naturally, there are many similarities, but also wonderfully unique styles. The Anufo enjoy dance music. Talking drums, rattles, djembe, gourds, and large clay pots are all part of the celebration. We recorded most of the choirs outside, because they were just too loud for any room. The dancing and shaking brought the music alive, and a cloud of red dust began to swirl around the singers as they moved from song to song, stamping and spinning.

It is humbling and heals my heart to see the authenticity of joy shared by the Anufo today.

I apologize for the late post, but we were working well well into the night, and we were just too exhausted. Catching people up with photos, movies, and then story… The captions provide some context.

We are safe, just exhausted.  We have been working well into the night each day. Morning comes too soon.  We know, this pattern is not sustainable, but there are so many people we hope to record, we just can’t turn away the joyful music, Bible stories, and community health messages.  

We bumped over rocks and across bowls full of fine red dust. We are fortunate it is dry season. I can’t imagine these roads after a few days of rain.  When we arrived in the small small village, a few choir members were sitting in the shade patiently waiting.  Waiting is part of life here, and nobody taps their watch expectantly or flashes a scowl when activities start long after everyone expected.

As church leaders started organizing, a shady spot beside the school become the studio.  Benches were carefully arranged into a “U”, and I set up a small table at the entrance, with the microphone on the tripod.  Drums and shakers are normally quite loud, and they can easily overpower the voices of the singers, so I asked the percussion section to stand behind the benches.  As the regally dressed choir members started sitting down, small children and families from the town started gathering as well, to watch the spectacle. 

I asked the choir leader, a strong and distinguished man with a deeply weathered face and a powerful voice to start a song as practice, so I check the sound. I also indicated the leader, or “caller” would need to stand close to the microphone to balance his single voice against the whole choir. So he confidently strode up to the mic, folded his arms, and started belting out some magnificent praise songs, while the choir sat anemically on the benches, disorganized and clearly without zeal.  After a bit of translated discussion, it became clear — choirs don’t sing.  Nope.  Choirs dance, and then happen to sing along to their dancing.

Ladies arrived with large basins of water and wet down the dusty red dirt surrounding the lead singer. Moments later, the choir had left the confining benches and pressed in toward their choir director.  The percussion section pushed forward into the back of the scrum, and before we knew it, the dancing turned into joyful singing.

As each song grew more intense, more joyful, and more fun, the assembled audience pressed in closer. Anufo songs are simple. They are repeated phrases, 1 or 2 sentences long. So the audience found themselves either singing along or grooving to the music. 

Before we knew it, 8 to 10 songs had been recorded, and the choir was packing up to leave. Wonderful sweet music can’t last forever, but it was a joy while we had the chance to drop in and experience the culture of the Anufo.  So why were we up so late?  I’ll have to write that up in the morning, it’s 1:00am…