Becoming One Fisherman

Fishermen boats

Today I became still, I became selfless, and became one with a Ghanaian community. We were tired, but keep pulling. My classmates and I stood there pulling the same rope as the Ghanaian fishermen and we all hoped there would be a net full of fresh fish to feed the community. We struggled and became tired. However, we continued to try and find our place in the rope, one after the other. After ten minutes of pulling I began to sweat and my back began to ache. This was different struggle, but I always wanted to become one with a group that had the same lineage as me as far as I know. I stepped back from the rope and noticed my hands started to blister, but I wanted to continue to help. After letting the rope loose, I thought and asked myself if I continue helping I could hurt myself. I stood watching for about a minute or two wondering how could I help them without getting dirty or doing much work. Selfish I knew, but never have I had to address my selfishness at this level. I told myself these fishermen do this everyday to provide for their families and community. So sacrifice my selfishness I did. This is when I knew it was my time to become one with my African brothers and sisters, my time to become selfless and work with them. I took off my shirt and began to wrap it around my hands to protect from the blisters, so I could continue pulling with them. Except one fishermen would not allow me to use my own shirt we urged me to use the cloth from his hands. The look in his eyes made all the difference. I felt as if he understood my eagerness to help. So we pulled and pulled for another 15 minutes before the fishermen transitioned to the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. Some swam out to help pull the rope in from a closer position. They continued pulling in the rope and we all ran to see how many fish they had caught this early Thursday morning. It was depressing to see that we caught many small fish, but it was interesting to see the women and children from the community show up with their buckets to fill them with fish. They were the cookers and the sellers. And I must mention my friend, Ben. 

Lawrence, Ben, Godson, and me

For the last two years, my friend full of selflessness pulled the whole time with these men. He worked tirelessly with them and I must say this was a man I respected so much. Today he became even more inspirational, encouraging, funny, and caring to me. He did not stop or complain at any point during the struggle. He was one with them as was I. We were speechless over the amount of work those Ghanaian fishermen go through on a regular basis. We even had the ability to fill the hands of one of the men. His palms were rock solid. They literally could be compared to rocks because how rough and hard they were but all due to a hard days work. Besides, his rock hard palms and hands, he was happy with the end result. He was open to us and selfless. And “this was what love meant after all: sacrifice and selflessness. It did not mean hearts and flowers and a happy ending, but the knowledge that another's well-being is more important than one's own.” (1)

(1) Cruz, M. (2011) Lost in Time. New York: Hyperion.

The group after we pulled the fish in