Final Farewell

Pending some amazing experience in the next two days this will most likely be the last post of this blog. I hope that you have all enjoyed reading and getting a first hand account of life in Ghana. I am excited to finally return home to Sara and Baby Syd whom I have missed dearly these past 5 weeks. I thought that I would throw together a quick slide show of many of my pictures from the trip. You may have already seen some of these, but I hope you enjoy a compilation. I will say that it is mostly directed towards Sara and Syd, and I thought about just sending it to them, but know that the rest of you would like to see the pictures too. So you will have to just put up with the mushy song. To Sara, I love you and can't wait to see you again!

Thanks everyone for your love and support. I will see you all soon.

Jeff

Handing out Underwear

I headed west on Wednesday. Today I ventured east. With my supervising attorney, his wife, and another young couple here doing non profit work, I explored the Valta river delta. If you look on the map from the previous post you will see the really big lake. That's Lake Valta. Follow the river south until you get to the ocean. That's where I took the pictures below. The trip has so deeply appealed to Dave (my supervising attorney) and his wife (Kathy) that they love the excuse to head out there anytime. This trip was their fourth, and they were not complaining. Dave and Kathy met in Jackson Hole way back when they were my age. They were both working summer jobs and sought after adventure. They adventured into one another and the rest is history. Dave attended law school and became a successful lawyer, while Kathy taught school and raised a beautiful family. They have now left the family behind but continue in their other capacities, Dave supervising legal activities for the church, and Kathy volunteering at orphanages and schools around Ghana. They truly are some of the greatest people. The pictures below will speak for themselves, and there was no real amazing story or theme to pass along. As we were loading the boat Kathy had a large sack of cookies with her. I thought it kind to bring us treats, but we definitely did not need a whole bag. I only understood why when Kathy saw skimpy clad children along the beaches begging for us to come to shore. When Kathy saw a large enough crowd she directed the boat to dock. The children literally rushed the boat with excitement. She handed me the bag with the smile, "I will let you hand them out." Because I was distributing the cookies I didn't get any pictures, but I did get some of the other couple handing out underwear. It was touching. I've never seen anyone so happy to get underwear. We got a tour of the island from our guide who was very kind. I hope you enjoy the pictures. I enjoyed the experience.

Democracy at Work

I got some field training today. At the suggestion of my BYU advisor I asked my supervising attorney for an opportunity to spend a day or two with the local counsel for the church. In other words, I did "real" legal work today. I don't really how much I am allowed to talk about, especially in such a public place as this blog. But essentially, the church had an option on property adjacent to the church building which fronted the road. Through the course of much runaround another owner built a small temporary business on the property. To put this in a polite way, the business was "counter the interests" of the church and "desecrated" the property. Today we met with the city council to try and resolve the issue. The adventure began when I found out the city was a three hour drive and the meeting was scheduled to begin at 9:00. So it was a 5:00 am walk up call this morning. I jumped in the 96 Mercedes of the local counsel, Ted Goh, and off we went to Sekondi-Takoradi. You will see it at the bottom left of the map you are looking at.

The drive took us along the coast and was not short on good scenic views. I've decided that Africa never sleeps, and even at 5:45 in the morning the streets of Accra were packed with vendors and cars. I have never driven in a 3^rd world country before, and frankly I am not going to complain about it. All signs and lights are only suggestions in an attempt to keep some order. Commuting in Ghana is nothing short of Darwin at his finest. Survival of the fittest. At one point we past a speed limit sign of 50 kilometers per hour, I happened to glace at his speedometer – 160. You math majors can tell me what that is in mph, but it felt like 130. We did get pulled over at one police check point. But when he saw we were lawyers, he just laughed, told us to slow down, and sent us on our way. Ted told me it's because they know they can't ask lawyers for bribes. Ted spent his high school years in Minnesota on an exchange scholarship. He came back to Ghana after graduation and attended law school here. He has done fairly well for himself, considering the state of most of his fellow Ghanaians. We talked politics a little. He was interested in Mitt Romney, and wanted to know how he made all his money. When I told him that he was a professional clean up man, we joked about how much it would cost to get him to Ghana. The presidential elections in Ghana take place this coming December. Various organizations and groups have posted banners urging the people to have a peaceful election. Ghana fell victim to a series of military coups through the 80's and 90's. Only since 2000 has there been a peaceful transition of power through democratic elections. Ted said he respects America for what they are able to do. He knows that the problems of Americans differ in many respects than those of Ghanaians, but admires the country's commitment as a whole to democracy. As we drive we pass under a bridge with a left over 50 year celebration banner from last year's festival Ghana's independence from Great Britain. Ted speaks of how, after 50 years of owning their own land many of the same problems that existed then remain. If the people respected democracy as American's, he thought, these problems would have been solved years ago. The people would be respected and helped by their government, not enslaved and exploited.

We arrive at the government offices at 8:59. In a bit of a hurry we jostle up the stairs. The chief executive has not even arrived for the day yet, neither has the opposing counsel, nor the other members of the city council. In fact, the secretary has no idea what "meeting" we are talking about. I smile and think about what Ted said about respect for democracy. Ted has to show her the letter that scheduled the meeting and then push her to get everything organized. We are let into the chambers of the executive to wait. At 9:16 he shows up, and graciously greets us as if nothing is wrong. He decides it would be best to wait for the other counsel. After an hour and a half, we are told that the notification letter was never delivered to opposing counsel. Accordingly, they most likely will not arrive. (Ted later tells me that the opposing party is a son of a prominent man. He thinks the non-deliverance is an effort to thwart the churches efforts). Ted pushes to do the meeting without them, to let us present our case. It's a good thing he does too. The meeting lasts about 30 minutes in which Ted presented the churches arguments. They all seemed to agree, and since no one was there to disagree, they directed us the steps we needed to take to resolve the issue. We left with smiles. I begin to realize that Ted understands life as a lawyer in Africa.

Next we stop at the recorder's office in this same city to retrieve some records regarding another dispute. Ted had dropped off a formal retrieval request the week before. The manager does not remember ever seeing any such request. Once again, Ted pushes. The request is found, but nothing has been done on it. Ted asks how long will it take. He tells us to come back at 3:00 that afternoon. Ted says we will see him then. As we walk out the door, I ask if we are going to wait. "no," he says, "but I want it to be ready next week."

By now the sun had risen and the heat soaked the car. We next drove to Cape Coast to try an locate more documents for another dispute going on in this district. Ted has established a little more amicable relations with this registrar. In fact, there was a long line outside his door. But like the traffic, lines are subject to other right-of-ways and we walked straight in and received an audience. I forgot to mention that Ted carried 4 cell phones with him. One for each provider in the country. Depending where you are he uses a different phone. This whole time he has been switching through phones trying to talk to someone back in Accra. Our last stop is the High Court Building in downtown Cape Coast to get a copy of the docket from a case a few years ago. I get to see my first courtroom. The bench where the judge sits is nice. Fine wood, polished and shiny. I look to where the people are to sit. Well, the picture will speak for itself. I think about the state of the democracy again.

Because we are close Ted invites me to walk into Cape Coast Castle. It is actually an old slave trade fort. I believe it is the only one in Ghana open to the public. They wanted 8 dollars to go into the dungeon, but we didn't have time. I looked out over the ocean and tried to imagine what took place here just under 200 years ago. In fact, the reason Britain ended up colonizing Ghana was to arrest the Ashanti people from selling other tribes to illegal European slave traders. Evidently their problems with democracy have a long history. But who am I to judge. It took millions of lives in our own country in the most savage war of our short history to end slavery. The authority of a democracy was a primary, if not the controlling issue of the conflict.

Well, this has gone on too long. Eventually we made it home. At one point it rained so hard that I literally could not see the break lights of the car in front of us. The highlights of the drive was our lunch at a beachfront resort. Dressed in my tie I felt like a CIA agent straight from Alias or something. I also enjoyed the "Lion King trees." At least that is what I called them. I tried to get a good picture, but the speed of the car and the height of the trees made it difficult. Eventually, around 6 pm we strolled back into Alema Court. I thank Ted for his generosity. I invited him out to Utah sometime and tell him I'll buy him lunch at Burger King. He laughs and says he would like that. "I don't think there will be a Burger King here anytime soon."

Fabric and Beach Holiday

Today is Ghanaian "Republic Day." To celebrate the office closed down today. With the day off I finally made it to a fabric store for all those wonderful ladies in may life who live and die by quilting. Brother Woodward and I also tried to approach "Oso Castle." It's not really a castle, but an old Danish Forth that has been transformed into the seat of government. It is kept off limits, and photographs are not allowed. I did take a picture facing the other direction, down the beach. You can see the garbage along the sand. Ghanaians have not really realized the concept of "beach front property." Well, not real fun stories today. At the beach three little boys, I'd guess around 10 or 11 followed us around, laughing and giggling. Elder Woodward took their picture and they thought it was the funniest thing to see themselves inside a little silver box. I spent most of the day online searching for summer employment for next summer. If any of you are looking for a fairly average summer legal associate, let me know. Alright, on to the pictures, the real reason anyone checks this blog.

The Barter System

I don't really have too much to add today. I was hoping for a more eventful Saturday, but when both sister Westerby and Sister Woodward both fell ill Saturday morning I knew I was on my own. I took advantage of the down time. I read, went shopping, wandered through town a little. I bought a few souvenirs at a local market and braved a few more photos. The local artisans (and wannabe artisans) have gathered themselves into small groupings of shops. The "pit" which I spoke about a few weeks ago is one such place. I visited another today. These small commercial areas rely more upon charity than any good economic theory. Every little "shop" carries the exact designs over and over again through there is some variety in quality. One could literally spend hours without moving more than 20 yards and see hundreds of the relatively same carved lion. The sheer volume of supply makes negotiation almost too easy on the part of the buyer. I have now learned that I should start the bidding. If I let them start, I would almost feel bad lowering it down. They usually start up in the 20 dollar range for things we would find at the local dollar store. That said, these people live in meager circumstances and the majority of the salesmen also create the items by hand. So I play the game. On this particular outing I purchased Sara some bracelets and a necklace. At the necklace store we bartered back and forth. I originally offered 1 cedi (which equals 1 dollar) for a blue beaded necklace and a key chain in the shape of Ghana. She smiled, laughed a bit, and in a soft, polite tone acted shocked. Normally the necklace is three Cedi all by itself she said. The logic behind the pricing was quite natural. The necklace 3, the bracelets 2, the key chains 1. The game began. Having had the logic explained I offered 3 for both the necklace and the key chain. She hesitated. I had offered her 1 cedi less than she was hoping for. She glanced around the area. Customers were fairly scarce. In fact I had not seen a single other person looking to purchase anything. I was probably the only customer she had all day, if not all month. "3.50" she replied. She was taking some chances. I thought about running my usual routine. Normally, having had my price rejected, I put the items down and begin to look at the next shop over. This almost always works, yet I am a bit hesitant this time. During her hesitation, I too had noticed the absence of customers. I accept the offer. I give her a four 1 cedi bills and ask for change. Diligently she sets out looking for fifty cents in the back of her shop. After about 3 minutes she immerges holding the money out for me to take. She is honest, and I appreciate that. She could have said she had no change and tried to force my hand for the full 4 cedis. I smile and tell her to keep the change. At this her eyes catch fire as her smile would have lightened even the darkest of those shops. As I walked away I wondered what 50 cents would buy in her world. In the end she got her full four cedis, but I got to play the game and pretend to be generous.

A few minutes later I arrived at another shop with fairly stylish bracelets. I start off with my usual offer of 1 cedi. He laughs, and tells me they are usually 3. I smile, and continue to examine the products. He has a second bracelets that is not as good, but comparable. I offer 3 cedi for the both of them. "It's buy one get one free day" I say to him. At first he hesitates, "no, no promotion today" he says, as if there are days when it does happen. This time I go through the routine. I set the bracelets back on the table and thank him for his time. As I begin to walk away, as always, he stops me. "you are a nice man. Just because I like you I will give you your promotion." I got both for 3.

On the walk home I wonder about the ethics of bartering poverty. That night, I show the bracelet to Sara and ask her what she thinks one would pay for it in the US. She guesses between 7 to 10 dollars. I guess I did a good job of going directly to the source.

Here are just a few more pictures from my walk.

Love you all - Jeff

Some pics of work and worship

This is where I worship

This is where I work

An American Party in a 3rd World Country

I am a few days late, but I thought I would give you a little update on my past couple of days:

Saturday night I got to socialize for the first time with a General Authority. As some of the couple missionaries were headed home in the next few weeks, the Area Presidency hosted a party at his house for all the expatriates and missionaries who work at the office. All three members of the Area Presidency are either in the first or second quorum of the seventy making them official "general authorities." I spoke a little with all three, but mostly with an Elder Goldman. He was a charming man from South Africa. The whole evening struck me as a great contrast to the morning I had wondering around some of the poorest areas of Accra. I sat and looked around the room. A wide assortment of colorful dishes decorated the tops of the three tables that had been cleared for the party. Cookies, chips, hot rolls, avocado dip, fresh vegetables, pasta salads, potato salad, just to name a few. And it didn't just look good, it tastes delicious. The whole affair, in the spacious house with vaulted ceilings evoked emotions of guilt. I looked around the room again. All white. Except for the maid. I am not sure what it is about prosperity that makes us feel guilty. I mean, I don't think celebrating in a manner customary to Americans is inappropriate, even if it is a bit glutinous. So what that just less than 3 miles away there were young children huddled up under a shanty in a feces infested slum? What would I have us do? Stop celebrating? Stop thanking God that we are not the ones down at Jamestown? Would God have us all go without until we all have enough? But then I realized that of all the people in that room only two were being paid for their work. Everyone else, including myself, had paid their own way, emptied their pockets, and drained the blessings of prosperity that had so abundantly been given them, in order to serve the people of Ghana. And they served them in the best way they knew how: they taught them the Gospel of Jesus Christ. At this humbling thought my vision changed. I no longer viewed those around me as rich, boisterous, glutinous Americans, but rather humble servants who had undoubtedly given up much grander parties, including births, marriages, graduations, first words, first steps, first dates. These were saints. They had come together to remember why they had come to Ghana in the first place. We would that all could celebrate with vaulted ceilings. They worked everyday that one day all can enjoy a wedding feast with much higher ceilings.

On the way home a beggar tapped on the car window asking for some money. As always King Benjamin preached in my heart, "are we not all beggars?" We gave him some cookies.

On Sunday I decided to sleep in and go to the local ward which commenced at 10:30. The chapel is located on the temple "compound" (that is really what they call it). It is a nice building. A two story building, the stairs are on the outside. The chapel itself is located on the second floor and has a modest wood venire. There were 4 pale faces in the congregation, and none on the stand. Myself, a councilor in the mission presidency, his wife, and a BYU nurse here doing an internship. The meeting was nice, but not as memorable as the previous week. Rob might be interested to know that yes they had a Kawai piano, but it was an electronic and doubled as the organ as well.

Well, I don't have the cord to my camera on me right now so I can't post any pictures. But I will get around to it. Here is at least one more from Jamestown that I didn't put on before

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