Leaving the house around 6:45 AM, we hail a taxi on the Bolga Road. Already in the back seat is a young mother with an adorable little boy of about nine months old fastened on her back. After the usual Dagbani greetings, she asks me a question in which I happen to recognize one word - yidana - which means husband. Pointing to Jim & then to her baby, the message and realization comes across that Jim had recently taken care of this child at the hospital. Smiles all around because the boy had recovered after having been seriously sick with an abscess.
Passing through the center of town, one sees the bustling Sunday clothes market in full swing. Mounds and mounds of used clothes are laid out for potential buyers to sort through and inspect for purchase.
Alighting from the taxi near the vicinity of the hospital, Jim leads the way via his back road shortcut to the "Blessed Sacrament" chapel on the hospital grounds. For several minutes, we are walking on a litter-filled dirt road covered with discarded plastic bags and other debris, and in the next we are seated at Mass midst the beautiful sounds of a youthful choir singing and swaying in their burgundy colored robes.
Passing through the center of town, one sees the bustling Sunday clothes market in full swing. Mounds and mounds of used clothes are laid out for potential buyers to sort through and inspect for purchase.
Alighting from the taxi near the vicinity of the hospital, Jim leads the way via his back road shortcut to the "Blessed Sacrament" chapel on the hospital grounds. For several minutes, we are walking on a litter-filled dirt road covered with discarded plastic bags and other debris, and in the next we are seated at Mass midst the beautiful sounds of a youthful choir singing and swaying in their burgundy colored robes.
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