We are often challenged by people who are in need. We are challenged by beggars, by people with disabilities, by people who have disfigurements, by people in poverty, by people who, in some way, have needs different from our own. When I read ‘religious’ articles about these challenges, it seems that the response which is usually expected when faced with these uncomfortable, guilt inducing situations (but not the ‘appropriate’ response, I guess) is to turn away, not look the individual in the eyes, maybe thrust some money at the person while still not looking at them, to pretend not to see, etc. Or the other expected option is to stare – also, supposedly not the appropriate response. And then we are told that these responses represent our indifference.

I know I’ve had (and still have) each and every one of these responses. And, what I think can even be worse is that sometimes I look the person in the eyes, I greet that person, sometimes even shake that person’s hand or stump or whatever is offered – and then I move on. Maybe I move on to go eat in a restaurant, spending enough money on one meal, even if only a dollar or two, to have fed that person for a few days.

Sometimes, I even sit with the person and talk with them about their needs, listen to their struggles, witness their tears, hear and feel the pain and suffering in their voice. And then I turn away; I turn that person away. I don’t offer anything more than my ear for that brief moment, or that hour, we spent together.

And then maybe I go have a beer. And I spend enough on that beer – less than $1 – to have fed that person for a few days.

And then I justify it all – “oh, I need to keep my strength up,” or “I need to relax” – because “if I don’t keep up my mental and physical strength, I won’t be able to do what I’ve been sent here to do.” And the justification turns into condemnation and self-righteousness – “the beggars make more money than people who are going to work everyday,” “that person was begging even when I lived here 10 years ago,” “if I solve this problem then the organizations here to do this work will never need to do their jobs and will never be held accountable,” etc.

And then I wonder – which is the better response? And yet it seems cloudily clear – probably the correct response is to use that money spent on the meal, on the beer, to do what’s needed for that person at that moment. But then again, is that the correct response? In the legitimate situations of need, it will solve the symptom, but it won’t address the problem.

And then I worry about my indifference. How can I turn away that woman who says she can’t breast feed her child and needs help buying milk for her baby? How can I do that when she’s got tears in her eyes and pain in her voice? Do I really believe it’s the right thing to refer her back to the nutrition center because the doctor there told me about her and said that’s what needs to happen? Or, am I not wanting to take the time, to walk with her to the nutrition center and then to the counseling center to address the other issues the doctor told me about – that she never wanted the baby and her husband has abandoned her. I thought for a brief period that maybe I don’t want to face the deeper involvement, but realized that’s not it – I’m deeply involved and I’m facing it.

And then I think of Abbie and of my Aunt. I think of the woman needing blood. I think of the future for the little girl with cerebral palsy and mental retardation, who was abandoned by her mother. I think of the little boy who just died because he was taken to the clinic too late. I think of my responses in each situation, of my feelings. And what’s past is past. And how will I respond if faced with the same situations tomorrow?

I just don’t know – but I come home and write about it because how can I sleep?

Africa is a powerful portrait. It’s a spectacular blend of contrasts, of beauty and of mystery. We are immersed in this portrait each day here. I wish I could include the sounds, smells etc. that accompany each of the following photos, but I believe these photos can be powerful on their own.

On March 29, around 9 a.m., there was a total eclipse of the sun. Prior to the eclipse, I read an article predicting it would be “eerie and extraordinary.” The words seemed corny or simplistic to me – until I experienced the eclipse. It left me powerless to find any other way to describe what happened, other than this photo taken at its peak:

A friend had arrived a few days before – for over a year he’d been planning his trip to be here for the eclipse. I had been putting in long hours to get as much done and caught up as possible so I could take a week off during my friend’s visit. We went down the coast, to a guesthouse on a hill, overlooking the ocean and the countryside to have what we considered, and are now firmly convinced, was the best vantage point for the eclipse.

Later we were able to spend time at the beach, experiencing more of that blend of contrasts:

And the next day we headed north – to a drier, hotter climate, and to Mole (pronounced Mo-lay) National Park. At 7 a.m. and again at 3:30 pm. guided walking safaris, lasting a minimum of 2 hours, are offered. There are two watering holes - visible from the hotel located on a plateau – and we were able to sit and watch the animals come and go to these holes before, in between and after the safaris. (There was also a nice little pool to relieve the oven-like air in between water-hole observations.) A couple of the animals seemed a little less wild (I heard that sometimes elephants have even mistaken the pool for their watering hole). It’s also home to 300 bird species (tempting Rick?).

Unfortunately, we did need to leave and head back south. On the way, though, we were able to stop by some waterfalls - we only stopped at Kintampo Falls - and a monkey sanctuary, Boabeng-Fiema Monkey Sanctuary – where the monkeys live in the forests surrounding a couple of villages. The monkeys are not killed here – and, in fact, are treated well. The villagers hold funerals and have a gravesite for when the monkeys die.

Back home, I worked a few days. My friend had some time to go to the camp for a visit to a school he’s been assisting. He's also been helping one of my neighbor children to attend this school. In addition, he became more friendly with some of the village children, forming his own fan club.
On his second last day we were able to take the three above, their sister and Mensah, the little boy who’s being sponsored, to the beach.

And now it’s back to work, and to the contrast I’d like to experience more of – work vs. time off for the beach and relaxation.