8.13.16
The airport is nicer in appearance than my first trip here almost 18 months ago now.
The usual long wait for all our bags as you just hope they all made if in one piece.
Lots of donations this trip.
Thankful for how quickly friends responded when given such short notice.
The least we can do to give back.
We exchange some money and out the door to darkness and a mass of people.
We quickly spot Joe, our driver who has now become our friend.
Or should I saw, Joe spotted us.
Much easier to notice the two obrunis (white people) than us to notice him. 😉
We drive to our hotel, Golden Crystal.
It's the same place I stayed in last time so it's familiar.
We check in and I ask Joe to come in as I had some gifts for him.
An outfit for him, his son and his daughter. Some American staples, peanut butter and jelly and beef jersey.
A Mac laptop donated by a sweet friend back home for his son and his continued studies.
A purse for his daughter.
And money to get a much needed phone.
Joe, a tall thin African whose hair is receding and now has a little more grey in it than when we first met.
Life here is hard here.
Period.
But he is humble and always, always joyful, always thankful.
This will be our last trip here for many years.
And prior to setting off on an airplane to come here, my heart felt the weight of it all.
A sadness of knowing it will be our last trip for now.
An ache in the pit of my stomach for the loss my sons would no doubt feel from leaving their home country, everything they have ever known.
Before coming, I wanted to bless those who have blessed me so much on my previous trips.
Joe being one.
Moses being another.
Joe leaves.
We organize all the donations for the orphanage.
Send a few messages to let our loved ones back home know that we were safe and sound.
A melatonin to help us get good rest.
Maria prays for what is to come.
8.14.16
And it's morning now.
Patrick, a young man that a friend from the states had befriended from past trips to Ghana asked me to deliver a gift to him.
He met us at hotel and that was easy.
Many do these favors for people/friends back home.
It's way too costly to mail things.
Breakfast and a 7 min workout to get the blood flowing and calm my nerves a little and Joe and Moses come to get us.
Off to the old Beacon House we go which is only a few minutes away.
The home recently moved as their lease was up and it was getting too expensive.
Vivian greets us at the door.
Says go to the office.
I am anticipating seeing my sons at any second and extremely anxious about how they might receive me.
You see, Romana (director and owner of BH) spoke with them just days earlier to explain what was going to happen.
"Your mommy is coming to take you home."
She is returned with blank stares.
"Do you understand what that means?"
They nod their heads yes.
"Do you have any questions?"
To which Jojo asks, "does that mean we get to fly in an airplane?"
"Yes it does".
And they both seem OK with that.
When Romana shared this with me just days before via whatsapp, my heart hurt and tears fell.
Adoption comes with a great cost. A great loss.
And there is pain because of that.
And God has asked me & Scott to be their mommy & daddy and I believe He also has allowed my heart to intertwine with my sons. And because of this I feel a deep pain inside at the loss they have already gone through, at the loss they are about to experience again leaving this country, their home.
We walk inside and see Romana.
I hug her as we greet and we walk into the office.
Within a minute the boys come around the corner.
Maria tapes.
My face a gigantic smile.
They aren't running this time.
But they come straight a way.
I kneel down to their level.
And I get hugs on both sides.
My heart is full.
Romana gives some good advice about the upcoming visits with the family to say goodbye.
I always appreciate her words.
Wise words.
I go thru their belongings, take a few things, but leave most there.
We bring in the donations, 2 bins and 1 very large suitcase filled with toothpaste, clothing, sanitary pads, underwear and baby food.
The boys are very excited at first, standing up in the back seat of the car.
I begin to talk to them about the importance of wearing a seat belt in America.
How they must wear one.
I don't get much acknowledgement.
Yet I know they hear me.
It reminds me of the last time I was here.
My last day, to be exact.
I was trying to prepare the boys for my leaving.
We walked a lot that day and would hear airplanes flying by as it was close to the main city, Accra.
I would point and say "mommy has to go on one of those later". And then say, "But next time we will fly on one together."
It didn't appear they were listening.
Yet, that was the question they asked Romana...
Indeed, they were listening.
The Internet is out.
Typical problems in Ghana.
Thankfully Moses can use his phone as a hot spot so I can let Scott know we made it.
Later, I would post to others as I know so many have so faithfully shared this journey with us.
I give Moses a bag of clothes, shoes and food as gifts.
Sneak some cash in a card too.
He's trying to figure out life now and work and we know this road isn't easy.
Moses comes with us to explore around town.
I wrap Francis as Jojo rides on Moses' neck.
First stop is Fort Victoria.
A "look out / watch point" of sorts for the British when they controlled Cape Coast Castle over 100 years ago.
We decide to walk to the beach.
The smell from the sewer flowing in the ditches beside the roads is overwhelming.
There are open, small wooden hut store fronts selling goods as well as food with the sewer right there.
We pass a group of kids playing futball (soccer) as we near the beach.
It is filled with trash.
And while I am not surprised, it still makes me sad.
We opt to walk to Cape Coast Castle and take a few pics.
As I'm currently reading a book called "Homegoing" referred to me by a friend who also adopted from here.
It's filled with background info of the past in this country, Cape Coast area specifically.
I'm slightly fascinated with it all.
Taking it all in.
The book is moving as well as moving parts inside of me.
The history here...so deep, so rich.
Such beauty in the many, many traditions here in Africa.
Such hard too.
The hills make the walk more difficult with a young one attached to your back, but it is good.
Still.
Shadee (volunteer from England) & Hannah (volunteer from Germany) meet us for dinner. They both know Jojo. I befriended Shadee via FB and she was able to share early photos of Jojo when he came to the orphanage, CHOH.
Jojo appears to be happy to see them as they enter, but it becomes evident that he doesn't really remember them.
Scott and I were able to meet Hannah on our very first trip to Ghana, so both encounters meeting in person this way warms my heart greatly.
I have difficulty settling my mind down and cannot fall asleep.
The boys are fiesty, but Jojo finally passes out.
Francis is more stubborn tonight.
Close to 2 hours later, he's asleep and we all are wrapped in our red or blue airplane blankets to keep warm.
8.15.16
I can feel the sunlight pierce through the curtains of the room.
It wouldn't be long for the boys to wake, but I try to catch a few more minutes of sleep.
Jojo had awoken in the middle of the night throwing up.
Probably too much food, as he seems fine this morning.
We go downstairs, Joe & Moses meet up with us and we have breakfast.
Elvis comes to pick us up around 9am.
He's taking us to Jojo's village to meet his next of kin.
Elvis is the owner/director of CHOH, Jojo's original home (aka: orphanage).
The lingo here is to say "home".
It is definitely a nicer way to call it.
We pick up Joshua, Prince and Jeff.
These boys are also from CHOH, Childrens Home of Hope.
They are going to spend a few days with their relatives.
Elvis is trying to prepare them for the future as they will one day leave the orphanage.
As we're driving, we see Jojo's uncle and a couple other men on the side of the road.
They jumped in the back of the truck.
They were out "farming."
I quickly learn that means going out to provide food for their families.
The men here "farm" and no one has jobs that give actual wages.
It's a difficult life.
It begins to rain, but we cannot feel it, only hear it lightly hitting the trees beside us.
There are chairs around a wooden table.
We all sit.
Jojo's uncle, Solomon Sam (Jojo's original last/family name) and the village counselor, Uncle Fi, sit on one side.
We sit on the other.
His uncle is chief of his village.
He's 32 and has been chief since very young.
Elvis introduces us to one another.
They only speak Fante.
There are smiles.
We ask some questions about Jojo's past, his biological mother, background.
His uncle answers willingly.
Then we go to see his home.
It is small, but not as small as most.
He has a wife and 3 children with a fourth on the way, but they we do not meet them.
It was good to hear more about Jojo's family.
Something I can share with him later.
We take pictures.
Maria captures a video of his uncle sending some words of wisdom to Jojo in Fante.
Jojo's uncle says that he hopes Jojo is humble and submissive to his family so he can become a great person in future. This is what his people believe in his village.
We learn that Jojo will most likely inherit the throne to become chief of the village, if he so wants it in the future.
Something that never crossed my mind.
It was a once in a lifetime meeting and I am just so grateful for the opportunity.
As we're leaving, I asked Elvis who was the young man that would always be so helpful with Jojo at the home and he said Prince. I didn't realize that was who we just dropped off. Thankfully I was able to steal a quick picture before leaving.
School is NOT free in Africa and only those able to afford, will go.
Which means, most do not.
So Elvis created a free school for his kids at the home and other kids in the area that are unable to afford on their own.
Then off to CHOH, Children's Home of Hope.
Jojo's first home.
It was not an easy visit for Jojo.
We wanted him to be able to say goodbye to everyone as the last time he was there, he was ill and Scott had to leave when everyone was at school.
Not one time.
Ma Vick held him for a little while.
And while Jojo let her hold him, he didn't look comfortable.
I kept reassuring him we were only here for a visit and he would be leaving with me.
His old BFF, Jeff, was there, but not much of a reunion for the two of them.
Many volunteers happened to be in town and were so happy to see Jojo as they have been to the home in the past.
We took some pictures and after a short while, knew it was time to say our final goodbyes.
We drive off and just like that, smiles appear on Jojo's face.
Elvis thanks me for adopting Jojo.
I ponder that as he states that the future of the kids are always a big concern.
He doesn't have to worry about Jojo's future now.
Chicken and fried rice it is, for round two with the boys.
I think they could seriously eat that every single day for the rest of their lives.
The boys struggle to stay in their seats and begin to run around.
It's a little scary for me as I am out of my comfort zone here.
I fear them hurting themselves and us having to go to a hospital here.
I fear them running off and me not seeing where they go.
It would be easy to get lost if you don't know the area.
And I, nor the boys, know this area.
When I hold Francis so they he cannot run, he gets very upset.
I don't know why this triggers such an emotional response from him, but it does.
And I have seen it before with him.
Deep rooted pain.
Something Scott and I have known for a long time that would need to be addressed specifically, but truly cannot do anything until he comes home and we work hard on attachment and trust.
There are wounds inside.
As I mentioned earlier, adoption truly does come with a great cost.
And a great loss.
And we do not take this lightly.
We do not believe we are rescuing these boys.
Only Jesus can rescue any of us.
We were chosen to be their parents, now.
Because there was a tremendous loss in their lives.
We will love them through the pain and God willing, allow them to heal from all the past hurts.
Joe and Moses show up and I suggest we tour Cape Coast Castle.
The guide was full of such interesting knowledge about the castle.
This castle built by the British, unlike Elmina Castle that was built by the Portuguese.
Cape Coast Castle was specifically built to trade slaves.
So many lost their lives.
And while Jojo & Francis are still too young to totally "get" all that was said during the tour, I want to be able to share this blog, these pictures with them to help them understand it in the future.
It's history is significant.
And while I cannot even remotely fathom what that was like, this is our son's history and will be a part of them.
Always.
It wasn't easy, but we made it.
8.16.16
The boys are still in bed sleeping with their airplane blankets rolled around them.
Maria and I get up and gather our things as we would be checking out of Mighty Victory today.
I wake Francis & Jojo.
It takes them a few minutes to fully wake.
I explain to them what we are doing today.
Start planting the seed for meeting Francis' great-grandfather tomorrow.
And the airplane ride too.
We head down stairs to eat breakfast.
Moses & Joe join us with a plate full of fresh cut pineapple.
The pineapple here is so sweet and full of juice.
Nothing compares to its flavor back home. Not even close.
Eggs and toast are the breakfast staples for us each morning.
The boys listened well this morning, sitting at the table and not running.
Maybe they were still a little sleepy.
Either way, it was nice.
We gather our things, check out and take the long drive back to Accra.
I say "goodbye Cape Coast" and the boys repeat me.
It doesn't take long for the boys to get sleepy again.
The car is like an automatic trigger for sleepiness with these two.
Barely awake an hour and already sleeping again.
I stare out the window to take the last few visuals of Cape Coast and then open my book to read more of "Homegoing" which is just fascinating to read while being here.
The book brings a lot of perspective to say the least.
We say goodbye to Moses.
He is all smiles.
I'm a little sad inside, although I try to remain happy and upbeat.
Truth is, I have no idea when I will see him again.
We love this kid.
He is a kid to us.
20 years old.
Aged out of the orphanage.
I pray the Lord would bring good things his way.
He is a beautiful soul.
Joe arranges to pick us up at 9am for the following day.
It will be another big day.
This time for Francis.
Meeting his great grandfather.
Bernard & Millicent, our Power of Attorneys are headed to meet us.
They have important documents to give us.
Aka: passports and visas so our sons can fly home!!!
The meeting doesn't last long, but it was so good to see him.
And Millicent.
I give them both some gifts as it was our pleasure to do so as they have truly gone above and beyond for us in our adoption processes.
Delays.
Every single step of the way.
Perseverance, Bernard says it what is needed.
And he couldn't have said more truer words.
I need to get some water and de-wormer for the boys for when we get back home.
Back to the hotel briefly before heading out again.
This time for dinner.
We try one place, but they weren't open yet.
So we try walking to another and never find it.
Boys wrapped on our backs, we start to get a little tired of the walking.
We give up and snag a taxi to Starbites.
It's decent.
The boys enjoyed it.
Yes, more chicken and rice.
And we even had real orange and pineapple juice.
Ingredient was ONLY orange and pineapple. Go figure?
You can get something so pure here in Africa, but back home where we have the good 'ole FDA that is suppose to know what's best for us, we get these juices filled with preservatives and who knows what else.
A taxi home as it was starting to become dusk outside and we are "put" for the night.
We try to watch a movie, do a little dancing, anything to entertain the boys.
But honestly, they are all over the place. These boys have a LOT of energy.
I am so thankful for this snuggle time.
While I try to love on both of the boys as much as I can throughout the day, the truth is, they are boys and they really are all over the place. So there isn't much snuggle time, per se.
The boys are a little amused.
Jojo is out.
Francis follows shortly after.
8.17.16
It's Wednesday.
The days are long.
Slow in many ways.
As nothing here is "fast".
Americans know the word "fast" well.
Our world in the US revolves around "fast".
If something isn't fast, we are quickly irritated.
From the internet speed to the waiter at a restaurant to our wait for a latte at Starbucks.
If it isn't fast, we get annoyed, even angry because "our time" is so valuable.
Or so we think.
But life here any less valuable?
Not in the slightest.
Nothing is rushed here.
And time is still appreciated.
Quite possibly more appreciated, in my opinion.
I closed the curtains tight last night before bed in hopes of a little longer sleep.
Sleep here revolves around light.
When dark comes, sleep comes for the littles.
When light comes in the morning, it's a natural alarm clock.
7:30am rolls around.
Francis awakes to go "wee wee" as the boys call it and albeit repeat saying this about 100 times a day. 😉
Jojo starts to stir.
He says "mommy, mommy" and then notices me still laying in bed about a foot from him.
He rolls over so his body is touching mine.
I love this.
I can tell he's starting to wake up.
I need to get up to use the restroom too.
Then Jojo jumps up and moves the curtains to see outside.
He notices the light.
He says, "mommy it's afternoon."
Maria and I laugh.
We turn the light on and it's time to get ready for the day.
Uncle Joe comes early.
We go to the kitchen area to eat breakfast at Golden Crystal hotel.
I ask Joe to join us.
Maria and I are slow to figure out there are only 2 breakfasts with our stay and we had given it to the boys.
It's a little more than any child would eat.
We ask the boys to share a little.
Francis quickly offers.
Jojo says no.
When I try to take a small piece of egg, he gets very upset.
To which I know this stems from his past and I pick him up and tell him not to worry.
Uncle Joe shares a little of his and when Jojo sees this, he takes a small hand full of eggs in his tiny hand and puts on my plate.
This is NO small feat for Jojo and I am proud and happy of his sacrifice.
We will work hard on this when we return home, but I am not naive to think it could take years.
His brain only knows what it knows from his past.
Yes, even from infancy when food was rare and he was so hungry.
I originally thought his story of coming to the orphanage happened when a volunteer noticed him, but Elvis shared a little more with me.
Someone from Jojo's village called Elvis.
Elvis is well known in his area of a man that works for his people. He gets things done. And running for political office makes him that much more known to all.
He was told there was a small child dying.
He and a volunteer went to pick him up and take him back to the orphanage.
That dying child was Jojo.
Who, thanks to the Lord, was given another chance of life and is now flourishing.
I am sad and happy in this moment writing this.
Sad to know our now son was so close to death.
Happy to know he was taken in by Childrens Home of Hope and slowly through their work and then by the work of Beacon House, his little body has bounced back to an energetic and fun-loving little boy.
Oh and fiesty too.
After breakfast, we get on the road to go to GMI (Great Mission International) to pick up Irene. She is John's wife who is the director of GMI. Francis is from an area close to where she is from and she knows his Great Grandfather.
Before I can even make a decision, the Aunties are pulling him from the car.
Smiles all around, yelling "Francis, Franco, Francisco!"
Francis doesn't say a word.
They ask if he remembers them to which he quickly nods his head yes.
When they put him down, he quickly comes to me.
I am happy to see this as I am becoming a "safe" place for him although I know we have a very long way to go.
So many new little faces there.
So many smiles.
They all want me to take pictures of them so they can see themselves.
I delight in doing this.
Israel is there, Francis' buddy.
Similar to Jojo, the encounter isn't warm & fuzzy.
The Aunties say how Israel still talks about Francis, just like they said about Jeff at CHOH.
Yet, the greeting is somewhat awkward for both.
And thus partly saddens me, but I get them together for a picture to remember later to share with Francis.
We gather all the kids and aunties together for a group pic, enjoy one another's company for only a few more minutes and then we are off to the Volta region.
The drive is long.
Again.
Cars and vans and trucks.
Passing one another.
Giving very little space for us in the opposite side of the road.
Close calls on the road are not uncommon here.
Thankfully Joe is a very safe driver.
The police once again have a random police stop on the road.
They motion for us to pull over.
No reason whatsoever this time, same as the last.
Although this time is quicker than the stop on the way home from Cape Coast.
A look inside and the officer says we can continue.
The police are very corrupt over here.
They want money most of the time.
Joe is polite, but keeps his ground too.
They (the police) want all to know who has the power.
Whether good or bad.
What do you know, we get asked to pull over again.
They ask Joe to open his trunk, but somehow it broke after we came back from Cape Coast and will not open.
He shows the police multiple times and finally they say ok and let us leave.
This time the police actually give Joe a name of a place to fix his car, but we are far from his home.
That will happen another time.
Irene starts to look more intently as we are getting closer.
We pass thru a busier area snd Joe & Irene both get some food from street providers.
Joe, some fish and Irene, chicken on a stick, or so that is what it looked like to me.
The boys awake from a nap and we all eat a little something in the car.
I stick to my nuts and bar, not as adventurous as Maria.
I finish my book, Homegoing, in the almost 3 hour drive to the Volta Region.
Their village is Agbakpaeme (North Tongu), close to Adidome.
Francis' place of birth is Mafi Agbakpaeme.
To complete a 300 page book in less than a week, for me, is absolutely mind blowing.
I am such a slow reader, but I found myself so wanting to read the next chapter to see how the story unfolds and understand more of the Ghanaian background in a unique way.
Paved road turns into dirt roads and it appears we are getting very close.
An old man is on the side of the road ahead of us dressed in African attire.
Irene says that is Francis' great grandfather.
We follow him the short way to his home.
He walks fast although his build is very slender and grey in his hair.
I will later find out that he is 75 years old.
They gather chairs in a circle outside his house.
The same house that Francis made his entrance into this earth.
Slowly, the villagers all gather around us.
From baby to old.
Little girls holding wrapped babies on their backs.
A mama breast feeding her baby right in front of us in the circle of chairs.
Here, this is normal life.
Not something to be covered or embarrassed of, it is life giving.
Several others do the same.
A mother and her baby approach and the little baby girl takes one look at me and begins to scream as if she just saw a ghost.
A ghost I must be as I am certain she has never seen someone so white before.
Aka: obruni.
And back home, many would not consider me "so white".
Only Ewe is spoken here.
We learn about Francis' family and background some.
And that Kojo, born on a Monday, is his native name.
I would love to add that to his name one day so that it will always be a part of him.
His Great Grandfather is happy that Francis is being adopted. He said he is just an old man and unable to care for him so that is why he took him to the home.
He said that he hopes Francis goes to school and learns to be a doctor one day. Francis just nods his head yes, quickly.
Several of us laugh.
Not quite sure Francis knows why he is nodding his head, but that's ok.
She had a baby out of wedlock and later got married.
The man she married did not want the child so she gave her son to the orphanage, GMI. The man she married was from the same village that Irene is from & that is how they knew of GMI.
I asked Irene if this is hard for the mothers and she said yes, but they do not have a choice.
He was around 6-7 years old.
Ugh. And something stings inside hearing this.
That is about the age of my daughter, Adeline.
I cannot grasp that.
I try to think of that for myself for just a minute.
The letting go of my child.
I feel tears well up in my eyes.
The pain is too much to bare.
Constant cycle of loss and love.
Or loss of love...
The gathering is a beautiful sight.
We were able to get pictures of not only the great grandfather but a group of most of the villagers too.
They brought a couple of the older children that had phones to come to take a few pics of Francis as well.
An emotion started to take over me around the circle of this gathering.
Same as with the circle gathering with Jojo's family.
I let them know that we love him and will take good care of him.
Those words, so powerful and yet all the family has as reassurance.
My soul feels the weight of that.
While I feel myself getting choked up, I force myself to keep my composure.
I want this to remain a joyful gathering.
Before long we were saying our goodbyes and driving away.
Francis falls asleep briefly on the way back to Accra.
It was needed.
While he was mostly quiet, I know this was a lot for him.
So many people there.
Not sure he remembers them, but I will remember this for him.
Sidebar:
On the drive back Jojo has to go poo poo.
So what do you do in Africa?
Pull alongside the edge of the road, squat and poop.
Thankfully I had some wipes with me.
I laugh.
One must laugh at a time like this.
Joe repeats himself from words said many times during this trip...
"Your hands are full."
And he is correct.
The dust from the red dirt is everywhere.
It's impossible to escape it.
When you walk, it gets in your shoes and on your body.
Everywhere.
When you drive, it blows in with the wind.
Your eyes staying slightly squinted at all times to protect from it a little.
Many have bloodshot eyes here.
I have no doubt the red dirt is why, along with the air.
And the smell.
Mostly the fumes of gas (petrol is what it's called here).
It commands the air.
There's no getting away from breathing it in.
The dust and the fumes both.
We drop Irene off after the 3 hour drive back to GMI.
Another goodbye, a final goodbye there.
Joe drives us to The Venue for dinner.
Kayci & I really enjoyed this place when we were here in April.
I'm glad to have Maria share in it now too.
The day was another very long day.
But good.
8.18.16
Francis awakens early and we go to the bathroom.
He begins to dry heave multiple times.
Not what you want to happen on travel day.
We get breakfast and he doesn't want to eat.
This is a BIG sign that he isn't feeling well.
These boys never miss a meal!
We pack up and check out of the hotel and head to the old Beacon House to pick up Mama Vivian.
She is going to show us the way to the new Beacon House.
It's about a 30-40 minute drive.
All of the children are at the boys place waiting for us.
I go around saying hello to everyone.
Anxious to hug sweet Mifia.
Gathered the kids together for some pictures.
And delivered a package of dresses & shoes to Mifia from Auntie Kayci back home.
Her beautiful face just lit up like a diamond.
Precious Mifia.
She says I can join them.
They start off by singing a couple hymns.
The second one I knew, "This is the Day that the Lord has Made."
And then each child has their turn praying over Francis & Jojo.
It's a beautiful witness.
Some of the voices are so low that I am unable to hear their words, but love it just the same.
After everyone was done praying, Mama Vivian said that just as the song says, "we will rejoice and be glad in it."
I can't help but think of the lives of those surrounding my sons in this circle.
I am rejoicing inside knowing my sons are finally coming home.
But my heart still aches for the many that don't have families to call their own.
The children in front of me.
A cry begins.
It is a young boy named James.
His cry grows louder.
I try to show him a little attention, a little love.
His tears...
Sadness from seeing Francis & Jojo leave?
Sadness from the reality that he still doesn't have a family to call his own?
While he didn't say, I sense more of the latter.
And I hate it for him.
I really do.
We leave just a short time later.
A quick stop to the land that BH owns and hopes to be permanently one day.
There is a man living on the grounds taking care of it.
He looks at the boys and says "you are leaving for America, lets pray."
And now I am grateful once again for the work they do.
Beacon House, Romana.
So many in need.
And they are the ones truly making a difference.
I have never been and am anxious to see his place, but especially anxious to meet his children.
We pull into a neighborhood of sorts.
Similar to many of the others, but this somewhat more compact.
Some homes look as if they are back to back, connected to one another.
Joe's home is protected by a wooden fence, although many have nothing.
His son opens the door and we pull in.
And it is.
A lower level where he originally lived.
And now his kids mainly stay.
A new upper part with a bedroom, bathroom and makeshift semi-kitchen but no sink.
This is where Joe mainly stays.
And then there is another upstairs that is open to air, very much like a typical tree house.
Joe's place is nice and clean, humbling.
It's very small, but nothing here is big.
It is plenty of space for them.
He said he has lived there for 35 years.
Wow.
His son, Johnson is 20 and is at university studying occupational therapy.
This leads me to share with him about our life back home and Graham.
He said he would love to meet him one day and we should bring him back to Ghana.
His daughter, Levetia is 16 and is in senior high school.
Both live on campus/boarding houses.
This, too, common here for those in higher level school.
Both are very attractive and very tall.
I can tell they make Joe so proud.
And he works so hard to provide for them as their mom left them a long time ago.
Joe ran an errand and then returns saying he wanted to make rice for the kids.
I say ok.
But I take Jojo and tell Joe we have something to share with him.
Jojo loves the remote controls and TVs.
As soon as Joe left, Jojo was playing around and the TV fell.
It was a small TV with a large back to it.
The picture wasn't working anymore after the fall.
I felt absolutely horrible.
The one material thing he has in his entire place and we break it.
Joe laughs it off and hugs Jojo.
He's the kindest and most forgiving man I may know.
Within minutes, he brings rice and boiled eggs and juice for all of us.
The rice was delicious.
Made with real red peppers and tomato and onion.
It is spicy and we drink a lot of water with it.
I'm in awe to see the boys devour it with its spice.
Although a little later Jojo starts yelling that his belly is on fire.
Joe asks what Jojo was saying because he cannot understand.
I can barely tell him as I couldn't stop laughing.
This man, Joe, with little, wanting to serve us.
It's such an example of Christ's love in that moment.
After dinner, I get some clean clothes for the boys to travel in and we do a quick wipe down with some baby wipes.
It will have to do.
We drive to the airport.
We exchange our goodbyes with Joe.
He says to come back and visit.
Jojo yells, "see you next week."
And we all laugh.
It was good for all to laugh in that moment.
I wanted to.
He didn't ask for anything more.
I just wanted to.
We wrap the boys and off we go crossing the busy street to go inside the airport.
We get thru the first security check.
On to luggage and boarding passes.
That wasn't so bad.
Greeted with many smiles by the Ghanaians working at the airport.
They knew we were adopting.
Upstairs to complete the customs sheets.
It takes a while as I have three to complete.
The boys are a little restless, but honestly doing great overall.
We begin to sweat, but know keeping the boys wrapped is what's best until we get through everything first.
We had so many talks all week about this day.
And I have no doubt the prayers of many were covering us in this moment.
On to immigration and we are asked to proceed to a room.
This was due to adoption review only.
Several had already asked us for our adoption paperwork.
I showed and they reviewed and let us on our way.
This time they ask us for copies.
I don't have any copies.
They say well you must get them.
I am a little confused in the moment having no idea how I am suppose to get copies at the airport.
Its a third world country.
There is no Kinkos around the corner.
My stomach drops.
I ask "how do I get copies?"
One man gets angry and in a low, ugly voice repeats what I said back.
For a second I think I could just burst out in tears.
Why so mean?
I am just asking a question?
Then one person said to go to downstairs and ask.
We go to the British Airways ticketing counter and they say they can't help us, to go to check in.
We proceed to check in and find a woman that helped us originally and she, thankfully, took us in the back of the airport to the offices where another woman very reluctantly waived her head for us to go ahead in...and finally she was able to get a copy for us.
Thank you Jesus for that!
But now we had to walk back outside since we had bags and repeat the process again.
Deja Vu.
First, well now the second time, security point was rather painless except for the long line.
And the boys are on our backs still.
And I am fairly certain Francis is bigger than last time.
And probably too big to wrap.
But we suck it up.
We go upstairs to immigration.
The "mean" guy is standing outside and when we sees us, he motions for us to go in.
A man reviews my documents and passports/visas.
And then we are told to go.
Last security check point.
We made it to the other side!!!
A restroom break was a must and I grab some melatonin for the boys.
We still had hours before our flight would take off and it was already bedtime for them.
We go grab some water and then sit and wait.
The boys get a little burst of energy, but thankfully it is short lived.
The melatonin is kicking in and their bodies are getting sleepy.
Maria breaks out the Toblerone, a treat for us to celebrate the moment.
And enjoy some chocolate of course!
And there is a tiny part of me that is sad the boys aren't awake to see this.
The plane is massive.
They have been so interested with riding on an airplane and now here it was, their first flight.
And they will probably sleep the entire time.
I take a quick pic from the outside.
And again of their sleepy selves on the plane.
But, there is a much bigger part of me that is thankful they crashed.
Thankful for an easy first flight.
We board the plane and buckle the boys in.
Not so sure they even realize they are on a plane.
And we're up.
I watch out the window to see the sea of lights below.
I have wondered about this exact moment for quite some time.
What it would feel like to leave Ghana.
With my sons.
When Ghana is all they know.
I think of Joe, of Moses, of Romana.
I know it will be a long time before I see them again.
Or would I ever see them again?
I will keep in touch, but that is different.
The thought of never seeing them again hurts.
Only time can reveal what the future holds.
While I hope, I cannot know that now.
I look over at Maria and whisper, "we made it."
She smiles.
Grace upon grace upon grace upon grace.
The hand of God was surely watching over us.
So many things to do on this trip.
So many places to go to, hours and hours away.
So many people to see.
And it all worked out.
More perfectly than I could have imagined.
Even tonight.
Thank you Jesus for these amazing gifts you have given Scott and I.
And as I type this with both sleeping in seats beside me, I am still in awe.
They are ORPHANS NO MORE!!!
