Tuesday, May 24, 2016

I'm Tripping, Part IV

Kwesi and I started our Thursday morning early, around 6 am. Personally, I didn't want this day to come. It marked the closing of my trip and I knew in a couple of days I would be back on a plane to the United States.

It rained the previous night, roads were still muddy.  So, some drivers wouldn't drive us to Nkrumah Circle to catch a *trɔ trɔ; they feared flooding.    We would take a trɔ trɔ from Zongo Junction at Madina. We were traveling to Kwahu.  Kwahu or Kwawu is a mountainous region about two hours drive west of Accra. Kwahu is also Kwesi's home.

The trɔ trɔ station was muddy and the place was congested.  People were everywhere - screaming and waving people to their vehicles!   Kwesi picked the first trɔ trɔ going to Kwahu, he didn't want me in the crowd.  I enjoyed all the interaction, but Kwesi was worried I would get lost in all the confusion. Once the trɔtrɔ was packed, like a can of sardines; we were off!

Now, this was a ride!  We had a stunt driver from the movie Fast and Furious. He drove through the Ghanaian country side at hyper-speeds. With me being on a swivel seat, I felt everything; every hill and dip as we went up to Kwahu. We passed various smaller towns and villages, and I held on the entire way.  Kwesi thought my caution was hilarious, but I wasn't amused.  I was relieved when we finally made it to Kwahu.
 Kwesi's older brother, Osei pulled up with the biggest smile on his face.

Osei greeted me,  "Welcome, Afia!  We are happy to have you!"

The city was crowded because of the Easter Festival.  It was like the old Freanik in Atlanta or New Orleans during Mardi Gras.  It was a sea of people and it was HOT! We drove around, then we picked up Kwesi's mother, which I affectionately now called Mommy.  

After lunch and resting, Osei took us up the mountain, so I could see where they grew up. On top of the mountain, it was another little city. We first went to see their sister.   She was the owner of a very popular club in Kwahu, Eastern Palace.  She was at the club getting ready for the upcoming Easter Festival activities.  Upon arrival, I was again warmly welcomed and fed.  Family members were all around the club helping and getting things ready for the Easter Festival crowd.

After leaving Eastern Palace, they took me to their childhood home, Atibie Palace.  Their father was a chief. Since his death, 15 years ago, no one has lived in the palace. The majority of tribes in Ghana are matriarchal. The lineage is inherited through their mother not the father. Therefore, the father's sister's children would be next in line to be chief, not Kwesi or any of his brothers. 

I was impressed. I could see where this once was a very nice place to live out your childhood. Kwesi and his family poured libations for their father and another late Chief, both were buried behind the palace.  Hearing Kwesi pour libations for his father, moved me. The palace workers that opened the gates for us were also moved; one had to walk away to keep his composure.  I felt a presence in the palace.  As if I could see Kwesi as a little boy; playing and running around his mother, palace workers cleaning and cooking and then their father sitting watching it all with a small smirk on his face. In an instance, the palace was not abandoned, it was alive; welcoming Kwesi's family back home.



Friday night Kwesi, Osei, Mommy and I all went to Eastern Palace. Driving up to the club, you could see international flags flying to welcome all quests.  The place was jumping!   Being from the dirty south, I had my purse open to be checked at the front gate.  We walked straight in, without being frisked.   

I asked Kwesi, "No one is going to check us?"  

"Check us for what?!"  

I said, "For weapons, duh!"  He just laughed at me.  He assured me, they didn't have those types of problems.  I was a little nervous because it was over 300 people there.  I just waited for something to "pop off".  People were drinking, eating, dancing and enjoying themselves. I just knew something was about to "go down".  It was too many black people in one spot! Kwesi assured me to relax and just have fun.  We were fine and no one was going to fight. 

After coming back from a dance, Kwesi turned his back to me and Mommy came and sat on my right side, so I was now sitting in between both of them.

Kwesi turned and said, " Afia, I love you and you have made me very happy.  Will you accept my ring and be my wife?"

Afia said, " OH YES!" 

Mommy and Osei clapped and the camera man came and took numerous pictures.  Kwesi's sister came and took pictures and congratulated me and welcomed me to the family.


It was a  perfect night and everyone partied with us until 3 o'clock the next morning.

By the way, there were no fights or gun shots firing.   Everything was peaceful.  Everyone just danced and enjoyed the night with no altercations.  I wished we could enjoy each other's company over here in the United States. Sometimes it's momentous occasion when we can get more than 300 black Americans together with no shenanigans.  Easter Palace wasn't a fashion show, either! Can you believe people actually came to dance and have a good time?! Not to sit in a corner, looking cute, or walking in the club trying to reenact a rap video - stunting and making it rain.

We danced the night away Friday and then return Saturday night to do the same thing!
Kwesi and I were so happy and newly engaged Saturday night, but my tripping episode to Ghana was coming to an end. 

When Kwesi grabbed my hand to lead me out the club, I squeezed his hand trying to hold back my tears. It didn't work; I broke down.  I didn't want to leave.  I had thoroughly enjoyed myself and I would miss the new half of my family.  Osei and Kwesi tried to console me, but I couldn't stop crying. Everyone just stopped talking and let me cry.

The next morning Kwesi and I  went back to Accra.  My flight was leaving late Monday night. Musa, the security guard,  drove up on his motorcycle to let us in.  He had just return from running errands.   

I just wanted to move in slow motion, I didn't want to leave.  

My experience in Ghana was unforgettable.  I'm glad I decided to take the trip.  If I hadn't, I probably wouldn't be engaged to one of the wisest men I know.  I wouldn't have seen just how beautiful Ghana is and how hospitable the Ghanaian people are.  I now have proof - all Africans aren't poor and not suffering from malnutrition. Ghana isn't perfect, just like the United States.  Nevertheless, I've seen that Ghana and Africa have resources and culture that black Americans are not tapping into.  The culture, the values, and the sense of community alone would enrich anyone's life.

I'm glad I was tripping! It was my first trip to Ghana, but I know it will not be my last!




*Ghana, Ɛnkyɛ mɛ hu wo!  


www.carricequinniewriter.com  

Follow me on Twitter @carrice_writer 

*trɔ trɔ - Privately, owned minibus that travels fixed routes, only leaving when filled to capacity.  While there are trɔ trɔ stations, these vehicles can be boarded anywhere along their routes. 

*Ghana, Ɛnkyɛ mɛ hu wo - Ghana, see you soon!











Thursday, May 5, 2016

I'm Tripping, Part III

Kwesi and I finally made it out of  Kotoka International Airport traffic.  Now I could finally see Accra. 

Americans have been fed a story, that is not true.  Some Americans believe Africa is just trees, huts,  and starving children.  This is not the reality.  

Accra is a big metropolitan city.  The traffic, the people, all the business going on; this was like any major city in the United States.  The traffic in Atomic Junction resembled any traffic jam in New York City.  The only noticeable difference - the street vendors and of course everyone was black.  Men and women were walking on the busy roads selling everything. They were selling oranges, apples, coconuts, small cooked fish, and even paper and  ball point pens.  All of the women were carrying the goods on top of their heads with perfect Top Model perfection.

Driving in Accra is at your own risk.  You have to be a defensive driver.  I was tried, but now I was wide awake.  We quickly made it to Cemetery Junction, but this was no cemetery;  it was full of life and action.  People were walking up and down the street and all you could hear was music, conversation and laughter. 

We pulled up to a nice house in Agbogba.  This would be my home for the next week.

Musa, the security guard, welcomed us at the gate.  The house was surrounded by a well-built cement wall.  The house was a light, rose color and had a cobble stone drive way and front entrance.  Walking into the kitchen, which resembled my grandmother's back in Georgia, I was pleasantly surprised.   Kwesi's  sister house was very nice.  I could hear heart-felt laughter coming from the living room area, so  I walked around to greet the man of the house.  

He was a stout man.  Anyone could see, he enjoyed and lived his life to the fullest.  He sat on the floor and told stories to a friend sitting across the living room towards the left. Kwesi introduced me, as Afia (Friday born , female).  I also added my mother given name, Carrice. The house was very comfortable and Kwesi's sister wasn't there.  She was in Kwahu preparing for the Easter Festival.

Another sister of Kwesi's made sure I would enjoy some home cooked Light Soup and Rice. I showered, ate and now I was ready for bed.   The sounds of crickets and the light hum of people gathering along Cemetery Junction was my lullaby.  I slept soundly for about 5 hours...

Yes only 5 hours! 

I now know Ghanaians start their days early - around 5:30 am.  Up with the first cock-a-doddle-doo, the house was alive with more laughter and the smell of coffee.  Locals were already outside.  Many were going about their day, walking to Cemetery Junction, bus drivers waving customers, and street vendors already making early morning sales.  

I met my host on his front, lower terrace.  

"Maakye (Good morning), Afia, I hope you had a wonderful sleep."

"Yes I slept very well.  I slept like a lovely dream!"  The morning air in Ghana is very calm and lightly chilled.  Kwesi had prepared for me to do some homework on the upper terrace of the house. He brought up a table, two chairs and my laptop.  He turned on his Hotspot and made sure I stayed current on all my assignments.

And yes, Ghana has wi-fi, hotspots and most of the people I saw had better cell phones than me.

By 8 am, it was already very warm in Accra.  I sent my children and mother a message on Whatsapp, so they would know I was O.K. I wanted to walk around Agbogba to see some of the life in the area.  I had on a short red dress with gold kundalini inspired scandals. Kwesi and I were walking hand in hand. People were out walking everywhere, but no one was in a particular hurry or rush.  People were strolling and talking to each other and enjoying their early Saturday morning.

Leaving the airport, Kwesi bought me the most delicious juice brand, Pure Joy Fruit  Juice.  I had the complete container by myself. During our walk, he bought more. Once again, I had the entire quart by myself.   

Kwesi's sister and two brothers came by to welcome me, after our walk.  Once again , they made sure I ate.  Again I had another complete container of  now Pure Heaven Fruit Juice, which was delicious also. 

I had to walk again, because I ate so much. Along the way, we meet another brother of Kwesi's.   He was outside talking to a group of men.  Everything was so community oriented -with the local street vendors and the locally owned shops along the street. I didn't see a Walmart or CVS.  Even the pharmacy was locally owned.

Everything was new to me.  Another day was gone and I once again slept like a baby,but I started to itch on the palms of my hands and the bottoms of my feet.

 I woke to the shouts of the town roosters and the hallelujahs of a close by Ghanaian congregation having an early morning praise session.

Musa was outside and greeted us with his warm smiles.  He and Kwesi shared some laughs and conversation in their local dialect. We were headed to meet his mother in Teshie Nungua Estates which was about 20 minute drive.

His older sister greeted us at the gate.  Once again,  I ate.  This time they fed me, peanut soup and fufu.  The fufu was good, but I preferred the banku Kwesi enjoyed with his soup.   Some childhood friends came by and we set up a little gathering under a tree in the yard. One of his friends brought some traditionally made palm wine.  I had watched so many traditional Ghanaian and Nigerian movies I really wanted to try some.  I took one cup and I began to itch again.  His mother said something to Kwesi in their local dialect and he asked if I was ok and if I needed to get out of the sun.  I was fine, but I was itching.

Hives started forming on my cheeks and arms.  At first I thought it was a heat rash, but then I remembered all that Pure Joy and Heaven fruit juice.  Then my lip began to itch and at that instance I remember my  Vitamin C allergy. I can have vitamin C, but only in small amounts.  I had drank so much pure joy and heaven and now around the world I was having a allergic reaction.  He took me back to Agbogba. 

Then in minutes, my lip started to swell and my skin was on fire!

Kwesi and his brother in-law went to get medicine from the corner local pharmacy.  When they returned, Kwesi was now looking at Will Smith, from the movie Hitch.   My eyes were swelling like Mike Tyson at the  Buster Douglas fight.  Kwesi, made that Ghanaian sound of surprise, "Eii, Sugar Mama is going to kill me.  I promised her I would return you the way you came!"  I couldn't speak because my lip was so heavy and just motioned for the medicine and water.

Kwesi stayed with me all night and made sure I didn't choke on my tongue.  It was truly a bonding experience.

The next morning, my lip had began to go down and all my hives were gone. We went to the courtyard,  laughed and took pictures with Musa. Later Kwesi, showed me how to do some traditional every day duties.  He didn't want me to do anything just watch, but I wanted to truly have the Ghanaian experience.  He made us some cabbage stew with yams, real yams. It was delicious. 

Now something else I noticed, these yams were white.  In the United States the yams are orange.  We aren't really eating yams in in the United States.  We're eating sweet potatoes. Africa has the original (non-hybrid) fruits and vegetables.  In Ghana people have fruits and vegetable growing in their backyards.  I saw mangoes, papaya and avocado to name a few. People take the time and cook meals.  I didn't see a lot of fast food restaurants.  I did see a chicken fast food restaurant, but no McDonald's or Burger King.  

Later we went driving around Accra.  We walked in the area called The Circle and visited the Kwame Nkrumah Memorial Park and Mausoleum.  Like I said early, Accra it's a big metropolitan city. I also saw beautiful beaches and water as far as the eyes could see.  

Walking had become our evening past time.  So, Wednesday night we walked to a courtyard restaurant in Cemetery Junction. Then I saw a familiar face.  It was one of my Ghanaian sisters.  She was a young lady I met through a mutual friend on Facebook.  I planned on meeting her that day, but my phone was not connecting to the internet. But no worries, there she was with some friends enjoying the music.  She was surprised to see me and I was excited to see her. We couldn't believe the chances of this happening!

So far, everything just flowed.  I didn't have to do much just wake up and just move with the day.

The next day would start another adventure, we would be traveling to Kwahu for the Easter festival.




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