Patience Is A Virtue

Yesterday morning I spoke to the technician, Ossei, about finding a store that would sell a USB cord that could connect my friends digital camera to the computer (as my camera is still not fixed yet, and I really want to share some photos). He said that he did know a store that we could go to and that he would bring me.

So we headed out on his motorbike towards the town. On our way we took a little detour and stopped in front of a makeshift restaurant, with a middle-aged woman steering a big cauldron of steaming steam. After a brief exchange between Ossei and her which was laced with the word “Abruni” (a term meaning White man and used to address foreigners). I quickly realized that there was no USB cords in this place. Ossei had not had breakfast and was going to have some fufu for lunch. I took a seat on a bench and waited for him to finish eating. I was invited to share, but opted to wait until later for my own lunch. As I sat there, juts relaxing and enjoying the moment in this dingy, shaded fufu spot I wondered whether people thought that I was being rude. Two women sat near me and let me know of their bowl of fufu that “you are invited”. I declined, but was grateful.

Thankfully, Ossei does not eat as slowly as I do, and before too long, we were on our way. I got back on the motorbike and we headed into town. Upon arriving into the city’s core, I recognized the building that we pulled up to. It was Diamond FM, where Janey (a fellow JHR placee) works. We drove through an alley-way, around to the back where the entrance is. We parked and I followed Ossei up the stairs and through an open hallway to a door that said “No Access”, which he walked into without even knocking. With a slight thought of hesitation, I followed. In the room was all of the transmitting equiptment for Diamond FM, a man on a computer, and a few people watching Die Hard II. Ossei, began to speak with the elder man on the computer about some programs and technical jargon, as I was invited to take a seat and watch the movie. I realized that we were not getting a USB cord here either.

A lot of the movies here are action movies (you can walk down the street and pick up every film that Steven Segal or Jean-Claude Van Damme are in). Comedies and dramas are much more rare, as I figure violence translates much easier than dialogue. Given the recent London/US terror fears and the déjà vu of President Bush’s actions with Iran (nearly identical to the approach that led to the invasion of Iraq, the theme of blowing up airplanes and taking over airports had a different light than it did when I watched the movie as a child in the early 90’s. I also have to admit that seeing Bruce Willis shoot up the Russian bad guys had me a little bit wrapped up in the movie.

As the movie came to an end, Ossei, looked over at me and said “three minutes”. Ten minutes later, I left the broadcast of CNN to take a phone call from Toronto. I was glad to hear from Sharifa who updated me about wrapping up her summer job at Tennis Canada, getting ready for school, and awaiting the General Meeting being held tonight at Rhema, which in the words of my bro GC, seems like it will be a “state of the union” address. Seeing how I have benefited so deeply on a personal and professional level from travel I find myself urging people to “get up, get out and get something”: I also tried to urge Sharifa to go somewhere before she heads back to school in Guelph, though I don’t know if my urging worked.

About twenty minutes into our conversation, Ossei urged me to follow him, and I continued the phone call on the back of the motorbike.

To my surprise, the next destination was an electronics store where we checked for the USB cord that we needed. Not to my surprise they didn’t have it. Nor did they have cd cleaner. We proceeded to another five stores or so, and none of them had what we needed. Knowing that the purchase, if we could find the materials, would cost more than I had in my pocket, we headed to the bank. Of the two ATM machines in the city, one of them has been out of service for the past week. This left only Barclay’s which has a daily limit of $50 Canadian (400,000 cds). Upon arriving there, I waited in the line of about four. All was going well, until the person before found that the ATM was out of money. Needing to make a withdrawl and still feeling the ethos of (‘a man does not take a major step forward and retreat’), we went into the bank and spoke to a manager. He insisted that there was money in the machine. We went out, and three people (including me) tried their cards to no avail. Satisfied that our complaint was valid, we followed the manager back into the bank and took a seat while he and some co-workers went to see about the problem. A good twenty minutes later, he informed us that there was now money in the machine. After wading through a short line, I got some money and left. Our further efforts at getting the USB cord were unsuccessful.

During our journey, we were also running out of gas and stalled twice. Upon reaching the nearest gas station, we found that there was no fuel. The same was true at the next station. It was not until the third station that we were able to refuel.

While I did not find the USB cord, the cd cleaner, or blank cds at a reasonable price, I did decide to purchase a ticket to Accra, which will have me heading to the coast on Friday morning. Unlike the last tike at the STC Bus station, this went off without a hitch!

Through it all, I did not get frustrated, impatient, aggravated. I just enjoyed the day, smiled at the “as if” series of events, and was happy to have seen the growth in me.

I want to add a little background information to the story. On the way home from work, a man sitting beside me had a book and a newspaper in his hands. I asked him if I could take a look at the book. He handed me his copy of “The Power of Positive Thinking”. As I skimmed it, I found a lot of ideas about how to avoid anger and frustration. One topic that stood out to me was about worry. My mother will tell you that I am always encouraging people not to worry about things. In my insistence, I would always question how ‘worrying’ helped the situation – it never does. While it is easier said than done, it is better done than said. In the book, I came across a statement that made me smile in my heart: “I don’t worry because I have decided that I don’t believe in worrying”. Like Santa Claus or whether or not wrestling is real, we know that they are illusions. It just seemed so clear: God is all knowing and is not worried, so why should we be worried. Immediately, I shared what I had read with Lieta as I handed the book back to the man as he left the taxi. Lieta responded that everyone worries. She then asked me, “don’t you ever worry?” I told that I do…that I did earlier that very day. I added, though, that I did not want to and did not see how it ever helps. Caring and doing something about an issue, and even being aware, did not require you to worry. That conversation was the day before, and I went through the day with an amusing amount of obstacles to a fairly simple task, and I just enjoyed the day. Nothing stole my joy.

That was my lesson on patience.

After work, I went to meet up with Janey. We were going to have a drink (a Guinness) after work. The place that she brought me to was an amazing discovery. There is a restaurant on the roof of the highest building (5 stories) in the city. You can see so much from there. We sat up there and had some food and beverages. Watching the flow of people, cars, bicycles, motorbikes, carts, and the odd goat or chicken as the sun descended behind the overcast horizon was deeply gratifying. Janey’s friend, a woman seemingly in her 40’s from the UK was also interesting.

She told us stories of working on various private yachts over the years that brought her through the Pacific ocean, and in one trip around the globe, including a stop for a month in Antarctica. Antarctica. She described how the undiluted natural surroundings caused deep introspection in the whole crew as well as the Italian business man and actress that were leading the travels. She spoke of seeing numerous orca’s and whales, sitting in the midst of a penguin colony, and maneuvering in a smaller vessel through a gallery of massive remarkably shaped ice bergs. The conversation also touched on the sad loss of her boyfriends friend (a local man who contracted Hepatitis B). She felt a built guilty as he died a couple of weeks after she stepped in to pay for his hospital fees and treatment. She wondered whether her interference had caused his death, and also felt powerless. The practice of not allowing women to the body (including the young man’s mother) was also hard.

I shared with her a moving story connected to the recent execution of former gang member, Crip founder, and multiple Nobel Peace Prize Nominee Sam “Tookie” Williams. While he was appealing his death sentence, he met a young woman that was a reporter with an agenda to show the world the monster that this man really was. In the process, she ended up becoming one of his closest friends and assisted him in getting numerous books published which educated children to the perils of gang life, while also addressing the causes and factors leading to such life choices. In this I have to interject the degree of influence that his ‘redemption’ had. While working in Driftwood, I quickly realized that it was a crip neighborhood. Working with the young men’s club (mostly 11-13 year olds), their allegiance to the blue flag of crips around the world was strong. When Tookie was executed, all them knew. They could not tell you who Marcus Garvey is, and I was surprised when I asked them who the Prime Minister of Canada was with a prize for the answer (as part of a news quiz) and I did not get a correct answer. They knew Tookie’s story, his contributions and his message. A few months ago, Tookie was executed by the signature of Govenor Arnold Schwarzenegger. After doing some research, I came across a three hour video of his memorial service online. It was a powerful service, with many life changing lessons. Among them was the story told by the woman who began as a reporter and became Tookie’s closest friend. She spoke of the last day with him, awaiting a noon verdict of whether or not he would be executed at midnight that same day. She described how she felt when she was given word that the execution would happen. She also explained what it was like to share the news with her friend, Tookie. Not wanting those he loved to see him go through the lethal injection, which ended up being a long a tortuous ordeal for his large frame to be killed with silent chemicals injected into his veins, he had insisted that no one close to him attend as witnesses. She countered his request, saying that she would be there. He was stubborn at first, but conceded upon hearing her reason: “I don’t want the last faces that you see in this life to be the faces of those who hate you. I want the last face that you see to be the face of some one that loves you”. I told this story to the woman from the UK to let her know, that it was not her fault and to not feel powerless, but to know that this young man passed having witnessed someone who he did not even know offering her time, energy, concern and finances freely to help him.

From there I headed home to dinner and to see Nuri-Haque off. He will begin studies in computer engineering in Kumasi and will be gone from Tamale until the Christmas break. He has become a friend that I value deeply. We talk about so much, and we have impacted each other’s lives so much in a short period of time.

He came by the house late in the evening, and I walked him to the road on his way home. While I am grateful to have had him around in Tamale, I plan to visit him in Kumasi. I am very happy for him and the steps that he is taking in his education.

Before he left though, we were watching a movie. He came later on, but Mr. Fresh and I watched it from the start. It is a film called “Click” with Adam Sandler. (Just a side note, that Adam Sandler is one of my favourite actors because he uses comedy to explore some very profound and substantive subjects). I highly recommend watching “Click” and take in the relevant reminder of what really matters in life. While the movie was enjoyable, I want to add that I feel it for the Asian audience that was dependent upon the Enslish subtitles. They were consistently wrong for the whole movie! From little mistakes like turning “I love you” into “I long you”, to major misinterpretations of the movie such as explaining the plot of the movie in a completely different fashion from what was really happening. I think that I would be very confused if I followed those subtitles. The cover photo of Adam Sandler holding a gun (which has nothing to do with the actual movie) might also add to the confusion.

The two Dutch girls came back from Burkino Faso and will be heading down to Accra tomorrow. They came to Ghana a year or two ago to volunteer and have come back to travel and visit. Today, they are getting their hair braided. They are pretty nice, but Sister Saphora can’t get over their disbelief in God and keeps telling them that she is going to call me to come and talk to them.

I should share that I have been getting better rest with less stiffness in my shoulder since I moved my mattress from the bed frame (which has very little support) to a mat on the floor.

Well, I have to get to work. So, until next time…stay blessed.