Beauty in this World.

I am home-this will be my final blog post for awhile (until I am back in Ghana)

Coming home this year was different, not easier, but different.

I still cried uncontrollably the entire way home-I let out six months of pent up emotions in one plane ride. I cried so hard and for so long that for two days after coming home my eyes were red and swollen. Its no wonder that the woman who originally told me check-in was closed for my flight from NYC to Chicago quickly changed her mind and told me to run for it. (I'm worried I might be blacklisted as a security threat on Delta)

But I landed in Chicago and my best friend was there to pick me up at the airport...I reached home where my parents were not supposed to be but my mom was waiting inside...the following day my dad cut his traveling short and flew home to see me...that same day my friend Max had a BBQ at his house with our other friends so that I wouldn't have to watch the Ghana vs. US match alone...and it continues...

People all over this country were waiting for me to arrive, waiting to hug me, waiting to support me with something that they know I struggle with.

But I also had a changed attitude.

During the past 2 years I have lost 5 people in my life. I have seen that my time here is not guaranteed. I've learned the importance of life the painful way, but I am glad I learned it.

I've realized that being angry with family and friends back home doesn't make me miss Ghana any less...but that instead, loving them and living life with them brings a happiness that can over-power even some of the hardest days.

I have seen that me coming back home safe is an amazing blessing. Just last week, I heard about the death of Nate Henn, a 25 year old American who was working with Invisible Children in Uganda. He was killed from terrorist bombings while watching the World Cup with local friends and children he mentors.

I acknowledge the burden I place on my family and close friends when I live in Ghana-EVEN if I have just as good of a chance of getting killed here.

So while leaving hasn't gotten easier, I've learned how to live here and be happy with where I am when I am there.


Today is the two year anniversary of the death of Adam Schatz, my should-be uncle. He was 26 years old when he was taken off life support a week after a karting accident.

So it is with Adam, Nate, and the other 4 people I have lost that I quote "From now on, for you, I'll be searching for those moments of always within never. Beauty, in this world."

The good news? I think I am finding that beauty.

Words

It has been awhile since I’ve blogged

Lately words don’t seem to cut it.

Words have always been something that I have relied on whether it is through lyrics, books, or conversation-I have depended on them.

I am lacking words.

What I desire to tell you can’t be explained in words. What I want you to feel won’t be felt by reading these words. But once again I’ll try my best.

For example, when I am asked how I feel about coming home next week I have no answer. A word hasn’t been created yet to describe that feeling…and no, bittersweet is not the word.

But here is what I can tell you. I am choosing to get lost in this world. I have been pushing back the pangs of sadness that come right as I fall asleep. I know that there will be plenty of time to be sad once I leave here so I can’t waste anytime I still have.

I am allowing myself to get caught up in spontaneity, which is something I am normally horrible at. I am being carried away by World Cup fever and the shutter speed of my camera. I am stretching every nerve within me.

Last week I decided to leave the wooden shelter I was standing under and play football in the pouring rain on the pitch that was quickly turning into a sinking mud bath. For an hour I kicked that ball with one of the U10s players (joined later by another volunteer) until we realized we were wading in sewage water. Mud was being flung onto my face each time the ball was kicked.

I then attempted to walk home at 6:30pm in that rain but it started falling so heavily that I could no longer open my eyes. (This kind if rain can’t be described using words-it is something you have to experience before you understand). I got stranded at a friends house for a couple hours until I eventually had to wade knee deep out to a taxi who graciously took me home for free while water poured in through the doors of his car. Most of Accra was knee deep in water.



On Sunday I went to Koforidua, a town 2 hours outside of Accra. I went to visit Edward (one of the boys living in my group home) at his all boys Senior High School. I watched the first Ghana Black Stars match of the World Cup with him at his school. After being mauled by 1,000 boys when Ghana won their match I attempted to go to the street and get a taxi back to the tro station to head to Accra. But what I found at the junction was hundreds of Ghanaians parading through the town of Koforidua in jubilation.

I could have waited an hour and then gotten a taxi but instead I asked someone where the station was; when they pointed in the direction where the crowd was headed, I joined in the parade. I was running alongside the locals that had their faces painted, flags wrapped around them and metal cans to make as much noise as possible. Apparently words couldn't express their happiness and pride either. They were singing, jumping, and shaking their hips. I ran with the parade for 45 minutes celebrating Gyan’s goal/Ghana’s win until I ended up at the tro tro station and got a car back to Accra.

I wish that the United States could have unity and pride like these people.

I hope that words come back to me soon. Until then...

A Yearning Heart

Ever since I was a little girl my mom has told me that she believes I feel emotions more acutely than other people in the world.

I have been accused of being too excited, loving too much, being too sad, caring too much, being too angry…and the list goes on.

So I am going to attempt to explain one of the emotions I feel so deeply that it creates a physical response within me.

The act of yearning: 1) to have an earnest or strong desire; to long for something 2) to feel tenderness, be moved or attracted

This is something I regularly feel in Ghana.

The word itself is something that when spoken can actually be felt...it is a word that carries with it a slight twinge of pain along with desire.

Sometimes I think I can truly feel my heart yearning; I feel my heart move closer to the surface of my chest where it sometimes feels like it will burst through. It is a longing so strong that I am actually physically MOVED.

At times it can make me feel sick, it seems as if the contradiction of what my heart yearns for and what is actually happening causes a painful reaction within me.

My heart yearns for the boys living in my group home to break through their devastating past; it yearns for the other children left at Osu Children's home to survive in a place where hopes and dreams are too frequently snuffed out, it yearns for the boys at Cantonments to succeed in whatever they choose for their life, it yearns for the people of Ghana, for the people of Africa.

But the words above are just words, they can't express the strain I physically feel inside of me when I wish for these things.

They don't reflect my occasional sleepless nights and tensed muscles I acquire when I yearn.

The words can't reveal the sacrifices I would be willing to make to change the circumstances.

But I am yearning and its OK, cause deep down, I know that this is what gives me the understanding that my work here has meaning.

And when it seems these emotions become too much for me to handle I will remember the comforting lyrics of a song that my friend played for me:

"You were blessed by a different kind of inner view: it's all magnified.
The highs would make you fly, and the lows make you want to die."

I love football, why?

My mom called me on the phone last week to tell me she had saved me a copy of the Sports Illustrated Football/Soccer Edition...who would have thought?

I love football, but its not about the game. Football connects people all over the world, there is an underlying unity that oozes from the boots of each player as the dirt flies off the ball spinning through the air to the next owner. It is a game that does not permit selfish behavior because each player brings something unique and important to the pitch.

I find that the workings of a team and fans resemble that of a family. So it is no surprise that since family is the most important thing in my life, I would fall in love with a sport that demonstrates it so gracefully.

But then:

Football business; like all business--dirty, exploitative, survival of the fittest...

I went to a tournament this weekend where the Cantonments boys played and there were scouts there, scouts from all over, but they all had one thing in common...they were all fat and money hungry.

I sat on the sidelines watching those boys kicking the ball as they have done since they were 2 years old. They kicked it with the same passion but there was a difference, they knew they were being watched...they stumbled and tripped and missed passes, something they rarely do.

This was no longer the game of football, it was the game of football business-a completely different game...a game where it is their chance to escape this poverty and prove to the world that they are something.

The scouts were vultures hovering over them waiting for the first sign of a money maker. Each player is the same until they prove themselves worthy. They see one of two things: Money or a useless body.

But I see:

Our goalie- A boy who raps and sings and dances between the posts during friendly matches. A boy who has a heart for God and wants nothing more than to please him. A boy who couldn't hurt a fly and is pure in heart. A boy who laughs continuously as he sputters out the words "If you live in a glass house, don't throw stones"

One of our defenders- A boy who is being eaten away inside by a dying father at home. A boy who is scared of failure and being forgotten. A boy who doesn't like Fufu but prefers rice or banku. A boy who loves the song "Fall in Love" by Dbanj.

One of our strikers- A boy who has the brains to be a doctor. A boy who all the girls at school admire from afar. A boy who can sometimes be arrogant but hasn't spoken since a chance for a professional trial fell through for him.

One of our mid-fielders- A boy who is still shy of me, the Obrouni. A boy whose mother fears for his safety in traveling abroad. A boy who doesn't speak when he is hungry. A boy who dances with his friends on the side of the field when no one is watching.

So forgive me if I feel angry and possessive when I see the scouts whip out their cellphones and whisper back and forth between each other.

Forgive me if I want to shelter and protect these boys from the lies and false hopes that these vultures often bring.

I want to see their dreams come true, I want to see them playing abroad but the process of dehumanizing them to get them there is where I struggle. I just pray that the unity that they feel can be enough to get them through to the end.

Week from Hell

This past week has been quite possibly the worst week I have ever had in Ghana.

Last Friday:

---4am: I started vomiting (first major problem), no pure water to rinse my mouth with after vomiting.

---4:30-night: other bodily issues, body pains, high fever (Ghanaian heat <3 )

---6:30pm: Hospital visit #1; tested for malaria; diagnosis:"Well we are not sure if you have malaria...your results weren't clear...so we will treat you for a stomach infection but if your fever and body pains don't go away within two days come back because that means you definitely have malaria and we have to treat you"

Saturday:

---Morning: slightly better; no more vomitting, other bodily issues had calmed down

---Night: Tried eating rice; nausea came back, had to sleep immediately so I didn't vomit everywhere

Sunday:

---all day: not able to eat except for a few crackers before my antibiotics, almost got sick each time I ate, fever and body pains gone

Monday:

---all day: same as Sunday

---overnight: no sleep, upset stomach again

Tuesday:

---Morning: woke up with stomach bloated out like I was pregnant-most of bodily issues had come back

---8:30am: Hospital visit #2; more lab tests; re-diagnosed as possibly having worms

---Afternoon/early evening: excruciating pain from the pressure inside my stomach/intestines, thought my stomach was going to explode

---8pm: Took my one dose of de-worming medicine and went to sleep as instructed by the doctor

Wednesday:

---7am: Woke up and my stomach felt better so I had clearly had worms that were now killed, tried going into work but was so tired I couldn't sit up

---afternoon: slept the rest of the day

---evening: fever came back with swollen glands

Thursday (Today):

Glands still swollen, can't tell if fever is back cause I am drowning it with fever reducer...ate my first meal in 6 days.


And all of this right after that newspaper article just came out in Glen Ellyn with me stating "I never get sick in Ghana...its pretty amazing"...serves me right

I might have officially screwed up my back by lying on that hard bed for the past week but hopefully it will go in time.

I have missed home more than I ever thought possible in the past week.

However, I have never felt as supported by friends and family back home. The amount of text messages, phone calls, bbms, facebook messages, e-mails etc. is something that I am eternally grateful for.

Hopefully I will continue to get better and be back to my normal crazy, busy self in no time at all.

Finally, I just wanted to point out a few things that made my week bearable which were 3 quotes from two friends:

After being told I was being de-wormed:

Peter Evans said "awe, its like you are pregnant"

Chris Getman said "I think I've had to give my dog de-worming medicine. what is going on with that?"

And then finally, an explanation of why I am in in such agony:

Peter Evans (again!): "you swallowed a worm that is now feeding like its thanksgiving?"

Excuse my poorly written blog, my writing is not quite up to par yet.

Happy Mother's Day

According to most Ghanaians I know- I am a mother- of over a hundred children.

I've never felt like I have had much of a motherly instinct but my time spent in Ghana has slowly proved me wrong.

I first realized it when one of the U12 players told me "Claire, you are going to be a good mother" When I kind of laughed and asked why,he said "You would do anything for us and we aren't even your children"

Corny-yes; but true. I would do anything for these kids.

There is such a need for mothers around the world. There are so many children looking for someone to fill that space where their mother should be. Deep down, I know there is no replacement for a mother and I know that what I am doing does not even begin to resemble the unbelievable unconditional love someones own mother gives-but I will try.

I just can't wait for the day I can officially adopt one of these kids and fill the role to the best of my ability-despite the fact it will never be as good as their real mother.

Until then- I will continue to love these children more than I love myself.

Happy Mother's Day!

P.S. Today I gave out my first business card that wasn't written on a scrap piece of paper...pretty exciting!!!
Amazing smoothies:




Me and Vero:



Me and Precious: my youngest sister

Clean feet and a fully charged battery

My time at home was as I imagined...refreshing, relaxing, and just what I needed.

I selfishly ate four meals a day, even when I wasn't hungry.

I spent much needed time with family and friends that helped me pick up the pieces of my brokenness as I prepared myself to love at full speed for the next two months.

I got off the plane in Accra, Ghana with clean feet and a fully charged battery to keep going with the other half of my life.

The transition was smoother than I ever could have imagined. I dropped my bags at the house and headed to the football pitch since my phone had already rang five times since I had gotten off the plane...I was an hour later than I had said...they were letting me know.

I spent Friday afternoon sleeping on the ash foam mattress in the Cantonments Club House. The boys were coming and going throughout the day and I just happily fell in and out of sleep feeling completely at home.

I am a lucky girl. Everywhere I go I get to reunite with people I can't imagine my life without.

My headache came that afternoon and lasted until Monday afternoon but I think that was just a sign to take it easy.

I slept 14 hours on sat. night and after church with Awuni and Ishmael I spent all day Sunday with my host family. Our neighbors were having a naming ceremony/party in the street for their newborn baby girl.

Monday was a holiday so I headed to the orphanage after saying a quick prayer for God to guard my heart...he did. For the first time since coming to Ghana in January I just sat with the kids talking for hours. It was just what I needed. I ignored all calls from Cantonments and gave my full attention to the ones who originally captured my heart.

Monday late afternoon I headed home and sat with Catherine in our room reading our books together. Her mom called us to the kitchen later for some sliced up mangoes and then we finished the night off by cooking together. It felt like summer days I used to have when I was about 10. Perfect.

Everything about the past four days of being back here has been wonderful. I have spent a good amount of time talking to our neighbors and having deep conversations about the difference between joy and happiness: the best example I could make was asking the man I was speaking to if he would feel the same thing when 1)his daughter was born and 2) he was watching Messi play football--sadly he said he would have the same feeling--its ok, he clearly has issues--for those of you who can't figure it out #1 is the joy and #2 is the happiness.

I explained that money may be able to bring you happiness but never joy. Happiness is temporary but joy is sustaining and what allows us to survive.

It is amazing what clean feet and a fully charged battery can do for a girl.

I am joyful.

Me and Okos/Elvis:




Me and Asa: