My background is in promotions, photography, writing and other areas of communication. In 1992 I owned an art agency, furnishing commercial artwork promoting businesses, mostly manufacturing and technical in nature. For some reason, early in the year, my business was terrible. Everyone else seemed to be busy, but we had very little to do. Knocking on doors didn't help. Things were slow.
One day in late February, the director of a mission organization stopped by. We had done work for them for many years, often free and always at a reduced cost. I knew they were doing a wonderful work, providing medical clinics around the world. Bob asked how business was (although I think he knew!) and I told him. He said since I wasn't busy, why not video some of his work in Africa? It sounded like fun.
I convinced him that my wife was up to such a demanding trip, and he reluctantly agreed. The next month was a frantic series of events; getting passports and visas, shots, and trying to learn what we needed in order to make the trip worthwhile. It all came together, but just barely.
The biggest surprise came from our church. Our minister had been a missionary, and he asked us to apply to the mission committee for money to make the trip. I thought they might give us a hundred bucks or so, but to our surprise, they gave half the airline fare, about two thousand dollars.
We had visas for Ghana and Nigeria, knowing we wouldn't need a visa in Ivory Coast, and with the promise from the Malian embassy that we could get a visa for Mali while in Ghana. We were to be gone for the month of April, with a schedule that left little spare time.
Our first destination was Ghana, and almost half our time was spent there. Now, let me tell you something about visiting the mission field. The first place you visit becomes the permanent home of your heart! Many people have told me this same thing. It is a "conversion" of sorts. While we had lived in Germany and Italy years before, we were for the first time seeing another people as God would have us see them. We were caught up in it.
In the four years since we have been there, we have supported one of the native evangelists we met. He has named a daughter Glenda, named for my wife. And I can't wait to go back. Ghana will always be special in our hearts.
There were moments we will never forget. Mama Dede was the first village we visited. The people had waited for hours, as we were late. We were greeted and treated royally. They gave us a chicken. I didn't understand generosity until that day.
Then we went and visited the water hole. It was the dry season, and the spring was the only source of water. I can't guess the amount of water; it was perhaps 12 feet across and maybe four feet deep. This was for a village of 3000 people.
But quantity was secondary. This water was so dirty I dare say no one reading this would wash the tires of their car with it. Women came to get water, walking through the fields polluted by animal and man, wading out to fill their containers. I knew why disease wasn't just widespread, but universal.
We went on to visit Nigeria, Ivory Coast and Mali. I could write volumes, and someday I may. Suffice it to say that we learned more everywhere we went. And one thought kept coming up; the missionaries can't adequately tell about their ministry, their chosen mission field, or their needs. Both Glenda and I left with one thought; someone should help these people convey their story back to the churches and people that support them. Someone.
The waterhole at Mama Dede