Hospitality and Gratitude

It's a pretty wonderous thing to be greeted the way I've been since arriving yesterday morning in Accra.  I was greeted at the airport (after my 5:00am arrival!) by my dear friend Yaw, who directed the Bridge Year Program in Ghana--and not by my request, but at his offer after learning that, after traveling from Saturday to Monday, I intended to make the journey 8 hours to Assam, where I'll be living for the next month, directly after arriving.  I should rest first, Yaw insisted.  So at Kotoka airport, we greeted--"Wo ho y3?" "Onyame adom, na wo nso 3?" "Me nso me ho y3." "Y3da Awurade ase; ei, mafe wo-o!"-- and he took my bag and led me through the parking lot, past the taxi drivers, and stopped in front of a van--"I got you a private one!", he laughed--into which he and the driver loaded my backpack and suitcase.  During the ride from the airport to Yaw's home, we chatted, catching up on a few years' happenings, and I was back.

Arriving at his house, I have the privilege of meeting his wife and son.  Yaw handed me a phone--"an extra one"--with a sim card already installed and told me it was mine to use while I'm in Ghana, then asked me what I would eat for breakfast and directed me to a room of my own where I'd spend two nights resting and catching up from my crazy flights.  Wow, what an honor to be here!  After waking up from a nap, finding a cold water bottle for me next to my bed, and eating breakfast, I bade Yaw goodbye as he went to town to run errands, including exchanging money for me, and called my friend Clara to let her know I'd arrived and ask what she was doing--"Meny3 hw3." "Nti memmra b3hyia wo?" "Aane, bra!"--to see if I could visit.  Of course!  Talking and laughing and just being back together; wow, thank you Jesus. 

Today I spent the afternoon at my homestay family's house, which was incredible: seeing my two little host brothers, neither of whom is very little anymore; calling all the family members who were not home and hearing how they are doing; having my older host brother come home early from town to say hi; learning all the news from my host mother; and most of all being told, "Welcome home."  My host mother, who has a car, graciously picked me up from Yaw's home and dropped me back off in the evening; it's the rainy season, see, and nsuo t)) saa!

So what I'll say is that I am overwhelmed with gratitude.  Thank you, God, and thank you, Yaw, and thank you, Ma Adu Gyamfi, and obiara.  It's so humbling to be welcomed like this.  And I'm being reminded of gratitude, and what that looks like sometimes to receive hospitality: to offer to help wash the dishes, and mean it, and then to graciously sit in the living room when the offer is refused; to plan to sa my own bathing water, but instead to straighten up my room when I'm told that no, Nana Kwame will do it for me; to enjoy the pleasure and freedom of playing with Yaw's son Kofi, dangling him upside down as he laughs, while dinner is being made.  Meda mo, mo nyinaa, ase--paa-o!  Nyame nhyira mo bebr33; na mo ba US a, me nso mema mo akwaaba saa.

Tomorrow I'm off to Kumasi by bus; I'll meet up with Yaw's cousin, who will accompany me to Assam.  And there, I'll meet Aunt Gladys, the midwife with whom I'll be working and whom Yaw knows. 

I'd brought a few small gifts for Yaw and his family, and they accepted them graciously.  And Yaw told me, "I'm grateful; thank you.  But the real gift, the one I'd rather have, even if you hadn't brought a gift, is friendship."  Woaka nokor3 no; he's spoken the truth.  God, teach me gratitude as I'm learning to understand it, and even more teach me hospitality as I've been shown it.