That's My Bag!!!

On the way back to the hotel following our first, very full day in Ghana, I overheard Daniel (our Ghanian tour leader) talking to Katy (my travel buddy, new friend and our team's co-leader) about our luggage situation. My first thought was, Surely he is not expecting me to go back to that airport. There is just no way I can handle that place tonight. Right as I was finishing that thought I noticed Katy reaching over the seat to get my attention. It was then she dropped the bomb - we would be going back to the airport. I have no idea what my face looked like, or what I actually said, but inside I was screaming.

That night, around 9pm when everyone else was heading to bed, Daniel came to the hotel to pick up Katy and me. All day Daniel had been so sweet and quiet. I already knew it would take a certain level of aggressive persuasion to get these bags, and frankly, I just didn't think sweet Daniel had it in him. My way of offering to help was to tell Daniel that if he wanted to teach me a few choice words in Twi I would have no issues using them if I needed to. For real, that was the first thing I ever said to him.

I don't know why I was even worried because the minute we got out of the car, that boy turned on a level of swagger I had never seen in real life. So of course my second question to Daniel was, Do you know what swagger is? He did not. But now he does. Africa, you're welcome.

All I knew, is he had that look in his eyes like we were not leaving that place without all four bags in hand and that was enough to put me completely at ease. What happened next was a confusing blur, mostly because all of it was very loud and not in English. All I know for sure is that after being sent round and round the building, we were motioned through some backdoors and ended up back at the same airport carousal from the night before.

As the three of us stood there watching the first few bags come onto the belt, Daniel quietly asked me the color of my bag. I said, It's orange. Like the same color orange as that one. OH MY GOSH! THAT'S MY BAG! THAT'S MY BAG! At that point I was literally yelling in the airport, THAT'S MY BAG! over and over. Because baggage claim was filled with people from the flight my bag had arrived on, I had tons of people starring at me, women shielding their children, all probably thinking I was a crazy white girl who didn't understand how how baggage claim works. Little did they know, I was witnessing a miracle. A few minutes later I spotted my second bag. There was more screaming.

Sadly, as the last bags circled us over and over, we gave up hope that Katy's bags had also arrived on the same flight and as she walked back toward me she noticed that sitting right next to me was a bag very similar to hers - in fact it was hers! It was right there next to me the whole stinking time! We immediately went through the whole baggage claim area searching for her second bag and found it just a few yards away. You see, in the U.S. we have this understanding - if you take a bag off the carousal and notice it is not yours, you put it back on the carousal. In Ghana, they do not have that same understanding. They just take bags off and leave them scattered around. This is one cultural difference Africa might want to consider adopting.

As we left the airport, there were not two happier girls found in all of Ghana. When we arrived back at the hotel, we made a b-line for JoAnn's (our tour leader) room so that we could share our joyous news. Like icing on the cake, she told me just how many people had been praying about our luggage - people on our team, Compassion staff in Colorado Springs, Compassion staff in Ghana, and that is on top of my friends and family. Compassion Ghana's country leader's assistant even called baggage claim every hour for the entire day to help locate our bags (no one ever picked up the phone - welcome to Africa). A Compassion staff member in Colorado called the airline on our behalf in an effort to help.

I was so overwhelmed by the level at which people cared for me - people that didn't even know me. And after JoAnn noticed my perplexed expression, she told me a few crazy stories about sponsors who had flipped out on trips when an airline lost their bags or something didn't go their way. Apparently she has seen extreme situations bring out some pretty crazy sides to people and she said a few times that she was very impressed with the way I handled myself. So I guess all is well that ends well.

Oh, and one of my bags was lost on the way back to the U.S. as well. The airline called me multiple times to update me on the status of my bag and within 24 hours they had it delivered to my front door. Life is just a tad different here in the U.S.

Compassion Ghana

After arriving at the hotel in Ghana luggage-less and well after 1am, the wake-up call came way too early and we headed out at 8am for the Compassion Ghana office. It was a little awkward the entire morning because everyone else on our team had arrived in Ghana about 10 hours prior to us and had spent the majority of the day before getting to know each other. I definitely felt like the awkward, new kid and stuck close to my travel buddies for most of the day.

Relatively on time, we loaded our mini bus, met our driver Charles, and started our "short trip" to the office. We arrived almost two hours later, but got a scenic tour of Ghana in the process. There are no addresses or street names in Ghana. Locations are all based on landmarks. It should be no surprise that poor Charles got us lost every single day, but he heard no complaints from me because if I had been in charge of navigation we would still be roaming those dirt roads.

By the time we arrived, the entire Compassion Ghana staff had been waiting for us for a while. When our team made introductions it was the first time I was able to put names with faces for 80% of our team members. I was so excited to share a devotion and worship time with the staff. It was one of my favorite moments of the whole trip.

Next it was time for a tour of the office. I was so surprised by the staff's openness. No question was out of bounds and no file was off limits. It was amazing to see their attention to detail, dedication to the sponsored kids, and ability to do so much with technology and resources that frankly, we would consider useless in the United States. I was so intrigued by the business processes and project management styles of an organization in a developing country (nerd alert). The main goal of my day was to take in every detail of every moment. More than anything, I wanted understanding.

Compassion Ghana office

All of the information that appears in a child's packet is gathered through this hand written form a Compassion social worker fills out with the child's parents. 

Compassion Ghana staff sorting newly arrived mail from sponsors.

Once the mail is sorted, it is put into a slot specific to each project. Each week a project staff member travels (sometimes 4 hours one way) to the Compassion Ghana office in Accra to pick up the mail, but first they have to sign out each piece of mail in that project's log book. Across oceans and continents, Compassion knows where every single letter is from the moment it reaches the Colorado Springs office to the moment it is handed to a sponsored child. Amazing! 

Our team with the Compassion Ghana staff

After leaving the project it was time for lunch. I didn't realize it until a few days into the trip, but just finding food "safe" for us Americans is quite the task. 

This particular restaurant introduced me to "Red Red" which was by far my favorite Ghanian dish - fish served under a rice mixture with a side of plantains. However, it wasn't until I was cutting away at my meal that I realized the fish was staring back at me and that the reason it was so difficult to cut was that I was cutting straight into the fishy's head. Oops. 

Next up was a trip to our first Compassion project. Because the program is held on Saturday's, and this was a weekday, it was difficult to really get a feel for the program activities. However, the staff was so open and happy to pass around sponsored children's files that I was immediately encouraged and overwhelmed by their work and passion for these kids. 

At first, I wasn't particularly struck by the poverty and to be honest, as my teammates were giving every once of their attention to photo opts with the kids, I was sitting alone pouring over file folders, reading through school records and trying to learn about the challenges these kids face. 

Because I was already exhausted and children rushing at my vehicle is not a part of my normal life, I found myself getting overwhelmed much more quickly than usual. Several times that day I had to take a few steps back from the group to take a few minutes to breathe. I was so incredibly grateful for our team's leadership and that I was given the freedom to take those moments alone to walk around and take everything in without being right in the middle of it all. A lot of people on my trip just loved having kids all over them and running at them, but seeing as how that freaks me out in America, it was no surprise I was usually found on the outskirts of the action at projects in Africa. 

Time Travel

From the moment I stepped off the plane in Ghana I knew I was in a different world, (probably because I was stepping onto the actual runway with no building in sight) but as the humidity engulfed me, this Florida girl uttered aloud, I'm home.

After standing on the runway a few minutes with the other exhausted and confused passengers, a few busses came to drive us to the airport building. As we stood in line waiting to prove we had the necessary paperwork to enter the country, I looked around and thought I had traveled back in time. The office looked more like a makeshift VBS registration than official immigration. Everything was so loud, hot and stuffy and yet at the same time, very concrete and cold.

After registering fingerprints and getting documentation approval, we headed to baggage claim. There were only four carousals, but none of them were marked so everyone was wandering in this small space searching for their luggage. Kristen, Penny and Mike all found their bags quickly. However, between Katy and I, we were 0-4 bags - meaning no luggage between the two of us. After we were convinced our bags were not on that plane, Katy instructed the others to get through the airport and we would meet them after we figured out what to do about our lost luggage.

Truth be told, I saw this coming. Like I said, I am no stranger to domestic travel and up until this point I have had a perfect record of zero missing bags. However, as I was sitting on the plane in Boston, I looked down to see the airport staff pulling bags off the plane. I immediately recognized my bags, and saw the staff throw them both to the side and not on the cart with the other pieces of luggage.

It was such a helpless feeling. I could see it happening, and knew there was nothing I could do about it, except to sit on the plane, take a photo, and tweet it. :)

Anyway, back to Ghana - Katy and I headed to a small office and filled out (yes, pen and paper) a lost luggage report. Even though the bags obviously had barcodes on their tags, the Ghana office staff was unable to locate them for us. The only information they could offer was that one International flight arrives each day and we should just come back to the airport at the same time the following nights until our bags arrived.

Bottom line, you do not want to lose luggage in a developing country. Unlike in the U.S. you are faced with the reality you may never actually get them back. I did not care about my clothes or other belongings, but I was nervous I would not have any gifts for my sponsored child. Still, there was absolutely nothing I could do about the situation and I was determined it would not ruin my trip.

Once Katy and I felt we did all we could to ensure our luggage would be located at some point, we made our way through the airport to find Kristen, Penny and Mike. Our tour leader JoAnn was waiting for us and ushered us out to the van. It was not until we were in the van headed toward the hotel that I finally believed, This trip is really happening. I am really in Africa and this is really my trip.  

Getting There is Half the Fun

Well, I have been back in the U.S. for a few weeks, and I am just now beginning to allow my mind to process my trip to Ghana, Africa. I wrote in a journal while I was there, but those entries are more of a collection of facts and stories than anything else. I am hoping that now, as I share my journey with you, my friends, I can really understand this trip's effect on my heart and its impact on my life.

I guess there is no better place to start than the beginning.

Because I had to meet my group at a predetermined time in the JFK airport, it took 5 planes and almost 48 hours of travel to get from Colorado Springs to Accra, Ghana (and the same on the way back). I am no stranger to domestic travel. Sadly, I have restaurant locations memorized for several DFW terminals. But these would be my first International flights.

Over the last few years of raking in the frequent flyer miles, I've noticed that every airport has its own distinct personality. Take the airports I visited on this trip for example; the Colorado Springs airport is like The Olive Garden. When you're here, you're family. It's very small, everyone (including the TSA staff) is relaxed, and flights in and out are generally filled with locals or military men in uniform, which means you always feel pretty safe.

The DFW airport is pretty fast paced. People are generally running even if they don't need to be, but everyone is still very kind and helpful. DFW airport inhabitants equally value comfort and style, meaning women shamelessly wear over priced, designer sweats with 3 inches of makeup caked on their face and curled hair. It's a sight.

The Boston airport is interesting. Everyone looks like they just stepped off mommy and daddy's yacht. It's like a Polo catalogue threw up in the airport. Whatever you're wearing, you are probably underdressed and they will judge you for it.

At JFK, they are incredibly efficient. However, everyone is in a rush and someone might just tackle you even though they have 3 hours before they board their flight. Don't bother asking for help because you will just get rerouted to another person who refuses to help you until eventually the task can be shifted to another airport entirely. But hey, your potential for a Tim Tebow (or any celebrity) sighting just increased significantly, and at least you aren't at LaGuardia!

It has taken me over 6 years of semi-frequent travel to learn these idiosyncrasies of U.S. airports, and I was downright scared of jumping into International air travel, especially with 5 people I had never met.

Our team's co-leader, Katy was the first person I met when I arrived at the NYC terminal. Katy is a Compassion staff member here in Colorado Springs and we quickly became friends. Her parents both work for The Navigators and I had countless interactions with her dad over the past 2 1/2 years. Nothing puts your heart at rest like making an instant connection with someone.

Shortly after meeting Katy, I met Penny and Mike from Texas...

...and Kristen from Missouri, who would become my roommate for the duration of the trip.

Only a few minutes after introductions, we boarded our flight to London. 

I have the unique ability to sleep anywhere (photo from 2008 - interestingly enough, same shorts I wore during my travel to Ghana)

Airplanes are no exception. In fact, there are few places I can sleep as peacefully as I can on an airplane. It is one of the only times my phone is completely off and understandably, no one can reach me no matter what the emergency. For those few hours, life just stops. There is nowhere else I can be or should be but in that seat, and for that small block in time, I can happily doze off freely without guilt.

All of that to say, on my first International flight ever, I forced myself to stay awake long enough to eat, (because food on International flights is actually pretty legit) and then happily slept the rest of the time. A stuart woke me up once to ask me to close my window shade because it would soon be morning. Then I looked down at my watch to realize it was only midnight. So the big takeaway from this blog is that if anyone says time travel doesn't exist, I can easily prove them wrong.

A few things about London. First, Heathrow airport is freaking nuts! It's like sensory overload in there, but the airport staff was very kind. Second, we had to take a bus from the terminal where we landed to the terminal of our next flight. No big deal, except the bus comes every 10 minutes and it's a 7 minute bus ride. Right off the bat, a big difference between Europeans and Americans, they think 17 minute terminal transport is acceptable. We, in America, wait a maximum of 30 seconds and complain via Twitter for 20 of them. Also, in America, we do not allow our airport security staff members to wear turbans. In London, this does not seem to be alarming or strange to anyone. Finally, speaking of security, there are different rules altogether. My water bottle was half full from my previous flight. This has happened to me in the U.S. and generally TSA will just pour it out for me and then scan my overpriced, water bottle. However, in London that is way too much of a security threat so your choices are either to get out of line and dump the water in the bathroom, or chug the water right there in front of airport security to prove it is not harmful. I chugged the water. 

Unfortunately, we only had a 3 hour layover so the only part of London I saw was the airport. However, if I am ever asked if I have been to London, I will respond with, Yes. I took this very European bus tour there. It was so great.

I was slightly more lively on my flight from London to Ghana and was able to stay awake long enough to chat with the man next to me, a Ghana native living in Manchester. He asked if I travel to Ghana often to which I responded, Do I look like I go to Ghana often? If I am giving off the 'I do this all the time' vibe that is awesome! But the truth is, this is my first trip to Africa. 

To be honest, as a sat on the plane and began to journal, I still refused to allow myself to be excited. I was still holding onto the possibility that this trip would not happen. My mind was running crazy with the possibilities - that something would be wrong with my passport or visa or I would be missing some kind of paperwork, that I would arrive in Ghana only to be sent on the next flight back to the U.S. 

Twice before I had attempted to go on an International mission trip, and both times something crazy happened that prevented me from going. Why did I find it so impossible to believe this was the trip the Lord had planned just for me? Even more frightening, both times the Lord closed the door on my prior International trip attempts, His alternate paths for those weeks (a mission trip to New Mexico and working for Student Life) permanently changed the entire course of my life. If the Lord's plan was this trip, then that meant chances were, I had every reason to be nervous, because life as I knew it was about to change.    

More Gifts

What do you get the parents who already have everything? This is the question I ask myself every Christmas, Birthday, Mother's Day and Father's Day. My dad is nearly impossible to shop for. If he wants something, he usually just goes out and gets it; and if he wants it but doesn't have it yet, it's usually because he is still researching the heck out of it to make sure it is the best in its class.

I thought for sure that no one could be more difficult to shop for than my parents. That was, until I was face to face with the question, What do you get the parents who have nothing?

A few of my friends have met the children they sponsor and have been so gracious to offer me all of their love, support and words of wisdom as I head to Ghana, Africa. One of my sweet friends mentioned that she wished she had brought gifts for her child's family. I do not know much about Eugene's family. He has never mentioned any siblings or his father. However, he does mention his mother and she has been in a few photos that were sent to me. I really wanted to bring a few special items just for her and the family. Plus, if I bring the practical items as gifts for Eugene's mother, then that just leaves more room for toys for Eugene.

When I went to the Christian bookstore to get a Bible for Eugene, I stumbled upon a promotion to help bring Bibles to Ghana. I know, what are the chances? You could donate $5 and a Bible would be sent to Ghana, Africa on your behalf, or you could purchase a Bible like this one and part of the proceeds would go to the cause. I figured I would go ahead and purchase this promotional Bible and take it to Ghana myself. Seriously, what are the chances? I had no choice but to purchase it as a gift for Eugene's mother. 

Kitchen stuff - don't worry, the plates and cups are plastic. Thank you Target for never failing me. Your stuff is the cutest. 

Because the only things I know about Eugene's mother are that she has a home business and she is wearing white in the two photos I have of her, I decided to stick with neutral colors for most of the items I purchased for her. Even the parents who have everything can use extra kitchen towels and cloths. The sheet was a suggestion from a trip guide sent to me by Compassion. 

toiletries and a fun makeup/multi purpose bag

This tote was one of my proudest finds. I got a great deal on it at the Columbia outlet store. It is super durable and a really nice color. Plus, everything fits inside perfectly. I hope she likes red!

So to all the mom's out there - the ones who have everything, the ones who feel like they have nothing, and the ones who know they have just enough - what do you think? Did I do ok? 

Christmas in June

5 days before my trip to Ghana! I thought I would share with you the gifts I purchased for my sweet Eugene. It has truly been such a joy to give! Just having the opportunity to shop for my little boy over the past few months has been a blessing. I cannot wait to see the look on his face as he tears into these treasures. I can only hope his smile will be half as big as mine. 

Over the past few months I have tried to remind myself over and over that I am not shopping for a nine year old, boy version of myself. Eugene probably has very different taste than me and he may hate things that I love. I tried so hard to study each picture he drew, letter he sent, and photo of him in order to get any glimmer of information about what he might enjoy. However, when my shopping was complete and I laid out all of the gifts, I couldn't help but laugh. If you know me, you will see so much of me in these gifts. I tried so hard to take myself out of the them, but in the end I just couldn't do it.

I understand that soccer is all the rage in every country except the United States. I get it. However, I do not support it. I hate soccer! My future children will not play soccer! It's one of the few sports I just can't stand. Any time you can finish a game at 0-0, it's just hard for me to get excited about it. 

Ok, I am getting off topic...so I bought Eugene a soccer ball to prove that I love him, but you can't honestly expect me to not bring him a football. If you did expect that, you do not know me at all. I can't imagine going to Ghana and not teaching my little boy to throw a spiral. He may hate it, but at least I tried. Yes, after I return to the U.S. you can expect to see a video of Eugene learning to throw a football.

Luckily, I grew up with three younger brothers so I am no stranger to the toys of a nine year old boy. In almost every letter Eugene draws me pictures. He always draws a plane or an automobile of some kind so I was sure to buy a Matchbox plane and HotWheels car. I threw in the Legos and Batman action figure for good measure. Oh, and the Mickey Mouse I bought while I was at Disney World for my half marathon. I wanted to be sure I brought a little piece of Florida to Ghana.

A few educational gifts - Eugene has told me several times in letters that he loves to read. I am not sure how much he can read in English, but hopefully he can enjoy these items.

school supplies

the basics

According to a recent letter, Eugene's favorite color is yellow. The shirts are Gap, Old Navy and Nike. Oh, and don't forget the Texas Tech shirt and the Florida Gator hat. Does this just scream Danielle's kid or what?

I really wanted to buy Eugene a nice Bible. I don't know how long it will be until his English is advanced enough to read it, but I have hopes that this is something he can hold onto for the rest of his life.

Just to make it a little extra special, I had Eugene's name embossed on the Bible.

Thankfully, everything fit nicely into the backpack I bought for Eugene. Is that backpack cute or what? I poured over the Internet for weeks to find the perfect backpack and yes, of course I ended up choosing a NorthFace. I'll be taking my NorthFace backpack to Africa. Why would I not get one for my little boy? Hopefully he will like the colors and pattern! 

In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ ”

Acts 20:35

Follow Me in Ghana

This time next week I will be in route from New York to London with a final destination of Ghana, Africa. I can't believe I am at the 7 day countdown.

I have been able to exchange emails with some of the people going on my trip, but I have never met (in person) any of my 22 team members. A few of them I will meet in the airport in New York, but many of them I will not meet until I arrive in Ghana. From the little I know about them, they are an eclectic bunch. The youngest is a 16 year old girl from Colorado. However, there is someone in literally every age category and from all parts of the United States. We even have team members from the U.K. and Brazil.

Most common question I am asked: 

What are you doing while in Africa?

Answer:

I have no idea.

Yes, that's right - I have a plane ticket to Africa and I do not know anyone I am going with and I have no idea what we will do while we are there. For someone like me, who finds it nearly impossible to function without a plan, I am surprisingly calm about all of this. Maybe it's because my dad is stressed out enough for both of us. He is terrified I am going to be kidnapped and sold in to slavery. As for me, it's only when I start to tell someone about the trip that I start to realize how crazy it all sounds.

Just in case I do not get a chance to blog before I leave, if you are interested, (no pressure) this is how you can keep up with the day-to-day happenings of my adventure:

Flickr - Whatcha GHANA Do?
http://www.flickr.com/photos/daniellelaselva/sets/72157629773989862/

Twitter - @WhatchaGHANADo 
https://twitter.com/#!/WhatchaGHANADo

4 years of sponsorship = LOTS of letters and photos

Shots

As you might guess, when you travel to Africa, there is a long list of health precautions you have to take in order to minimize your risk of contracting some crazy disease. After a week or so of hunting down shot records, online travel health research, fighting with our HR Department about preventative health coverage, and a number of phone calls to find the one and only in-network doctor (an allergist) who is authorized to give the Yellow Fever vaccine, my appointment was set. I thought this would be a pretty simple, in-and-out, kind of appointment, but nothing ever seems to be that simple for me.

While filling out paperwork, I couldn't help but notice everyone else in the waiting room was 100 years old which I found odd.

After a few minutes in the waiting room, the nurse took me back to an exam room but before I could even sit down, the doctor popped his head in and said, "The receptionist said we owe you a bag of chips" and then left the room. About 2 minutes later (before the nurse even had a chance to take my vitals) the doctor came back into the room, handed me a bag of chips and told me he hadn't stopped laughing about some funny thing I said when I called to make the appointment and that the receptionist thought I was so entertaining she wanted to give me a snack when I came in for my appointment. Then he asked me to remind him what country I was traveling to and left the room. I have no idea what I said to the receptionist; although I do remember being a little overly excited that I found someone who could give me the vaccines I needed.

The doctor came back a little later with paperwork in hand ready to talk about the vaccine options along with his recommendations. I told him that after my research I had decided against the Rabies vaccine. He was surprised by my attention to research. I was surprised he thought I would walk into a doctor's office without any understanding of the possible treatments.

We debated on the flu shot, but in the end I just flat out refused to get it. I didn't feel like I needed to explain that I had never received a flu shot in my life because my Dad has a theory that the flu shot is some government/medical conspiracy to kill off the elderly and weak - like the host of 100 year old patients he had sitting in the waiting room.

Final decision: I needed 5 shots and 3 prescription drugs

The doctor said there was no pressure to get all of the shots on the same day and that I could come back and get the vaccines over several appointments. I didn't really understand though. He didn't have a compelling medical reason against knocking it out all at once other than, "it may be painful." I opted to get them all that day - 3 in one arm and 2 in the other.

After the final decision was made, I was left alone in the exam room for 45 minutes. When you tell someone they are about to become a human pin cushion, it is just plain mean to leave them to think about it for 45 minutes. Praise God for iPhones and Parks and Recreation on streaming Netflix.

The nurse finally came in with my cocktail of vaccines and the fun began. Typically, as long as I do not see the needles I am ok so I told the nurse I needed to look the other way and focus on something else. After the very first shot she said, "Oh gosh you are bleeding!" Now why on earth did she feel the need to say that? Just take care of it and move on. Shot number two was ok. Then half way through shot number three I felt myself lose control of my arm. Before I could even say anything the nurse said, "It feels so weird when your muscle goes into spasms with the needle still inside of it." To which I responded, "Yeah, it doesn't feel too great on this end either." When we switched to my right arm, that one went into spasms too. I told you, nothing can ever be easy for me.

Finally, after all five shots were complete the nurse decided to tell me I had to stay so they could keep me under observation - something about cardiac arrest.

I hung out in the waiting room with the geriatrics until they cleared me. I had left work at 12:30 and did not get back to the office until 3:00. It was so ridiculous.

The next day I realized why the doctor tried to talk me out of doing all of the shots in the same day. I was in constant pain. Just sitting at my desk and typing was painful, but after a day of pain, I started to feel like my old self again.

Today is post-shots day 2 and both of my arms look like disasters. I'm wondering if they lined my Band-Aids with acid. I thought it might go unnoticed, but after being at work for 5 minutes this morning I was asked if I had ring worm.

Whatcha Ghana Do?

I have been so hesitant to blog about this, or even tell anyone, but because I am one month away I feel like I can confidently say it.

Drum roll please...

I'm going to Ghana, Africa in June! Freshman year of college I was planning to go to Toronto for a mission trip and then backed out to go to New Mexico instead. My senior year of college, I was planning to go to Nigeria and then it all fell through. After that I temporarily gave up on world travels. I knew I would go overseas someday, but I was tired of being broken hearted after plans changed. Bottom line: the Bible tells us over and over to have a heart for the nations, but it's really hard to have that kind of heart when in my mind, the word nations doesn't stretch further than the continental U.S.

I have sponsored Eugene through Compassion International since the summer of 2008 and this past November I received an email to inform me that Compassion was planning a sponsor trip to Ghana, where Eugene lives.

After a few months of going back and forth looking for a burning bush telling me to go or stay, in January I signed up for the trip.

Since January I have been so hesitant to mention my trip to anyone because deep down I believed it would probably all fall through just like it had with my previous two attempts. As of today, I have my passport, vaccinations and flights and I'm starting to believe this is actually going to happen. Plus, I am blogging about it. How much more official does it get?

I have enjoyed buying gifts for Eugene over the past few months knowing I will get to personally deliver them to him. I always have my eye out for things a 9 year old boy might enjoy. It has been a challenge because even though I love this little boy and he is one of the biggest joys of my life, I do not really know him. I have a few ideas, but the two most important gifts are already purchased.

There are probably a million things I should be worried about, especially since I am going to Africa with 20 people I have never met, but I have been surprisingly calm. I have just adopted the philosophy that stressing out isn't going to help or change one single thing.

Do not be too impressed though. I am not completely worry free. In fact, here are my top 3 fears in order of least to greatest: 

3) Getting Malaria - It turns out there is not a vaccine for Malaria. The best you can do is take preventative pills and try to dodge mosquitoes. It's kind of like birth control pills but if you miss a few you run the risk of getting a life-threatening disease instead of a baby - and like with birth control, even if you do everything right, you could still be that one in a million who gets a surprise. 

2) Not Connecting With Kids - I have said it a hundred times on this blog. I am not a kid person. I think kids are strange, little people who could bind together and overthrow us adults if they ever decided to get organized. This trip is going to be all about loving on kids and their families and I'm really nervous that I will be the one awkwardly standing in the corner for the entire trip.

3) Crying My Face Off - The only thing worse than crying is crying in front of other people, especially people you don't know. I hate crying. I just hate it! It does nothing for me except make me feel embarrassed and stupid. Unfortunately, one of the few things that makes me cry aside from a really emotionally charged football game, is human injustice. I sobbed through the entire second half of The Help and I still have no idea what happens in The Pianist. I can't make it past the first 30 minutes of the film. All of that to say, the chances of a complete emotional breakdown are frighteningly high and I am scared to death. I have decided though, that if someone dares to mock me for one of these breakdowns I will shout back, (between sobs) "Don't you think Jesus would be upset by this?" What now!

So there you have it, the countdown to Ghana has officially begun. Welcome to the journey.