Hello Ghana!

"There is no end. There is no beginning. There is only the passion of life." - Federico Fellini

I have never been happier to see familiar faces as I was when I left the Accra airport and saw a sea of people waiting for loved ones. I scanned the crowd and kept walking and then there was Eugene, family friend of the Andoh's (my adopted family)waving. I smiled as I could not wave and we made our way to each other and there was Shirley, my college roommate/sister from another mother, who had been hidden behind the crowds. We talked, stuffed my bags into the SUV, and then drove along. They asked me my impressions of Ghana and I said it was too dark to tell.

I entered the house and ran to hug Mommy and Daddy Andoh and then Shirley's sister Carol whom I had never met but recognized from pictures, and all the various nieces and nephews whom I recognized as well. The Andohs are in Accra for the commemoration of the one-year anniversary of Shirley's older sister Barbara's death. The ceremony took place the week before I got here but the house is still packed like a family reunion with siblings, cousins, aunts, and uncles at every turn and children underfoot. I was duly warned that the children would not understand my American English if I did not pronounce my consonants, especially my t's. The house is a self-contained fortress behind a wall and gate. It has a generator for blackouts and its own water tank and a garage full of other luxuries that the Andoh's shipped from NYC, many to give away and some to make life easier at home. After chatting for a while, I ate, got ready for bed, and pillow-talked with Shirley before dropping off into the sleep of babies.

In the morning Shirley's sister Regina was there, the one I met randomly on a NYC subway train when she recognized me from Shirley's pictures, and Shirley's brother Nana Yaw, his wife Carmen, and their daughter Nina, whom I know well. Carol's kitchen works in quick order with Carol and her house help Esther serving up toast and eggs and tea for breakfast at top speed.

Luckily there are quite a few sitting rooms, one having been recently transformed from a terrace to hold Barbara's furniture, and people seem to choose the one where others their age are; the one with the dining area and a tv that is hooked up to the Xbox just brought from the States belongs to the kids during the day; the one with the office and another television belongs to the young adults, and the third that is just off the front door and has a third refrigerator full of drinks and ice cream belongs to the Andohs who receive a ton of company, as can be expected. At night the space transforms, bedrooms are assigned to couples, and singles bring out airbeds and mattresses and choose couches.

I was eating when Shirley's uncle, her father's brother, came over to the house. He was wearing a black and white kente (for ceremonies or mourning) in the traditional way over one shoulder, the other bare. After he sat for a moment he announced in Twi that he was not here for evil, that when someone in the family dies, the family must get together and decide what is to be done with the things. Nana Yaw sat between me and Carmen, the only non-Twi speakers, to translate for us. Shirley's mother and father left the room to confer and came back to announce that Shirley would be given the responsibility to look after her older sister's things. The uncle asked Shirley if she would accept the responsibility and she tearfully agreed. We all started reaching for tissues.

Then Eugene began pouring alcohol for the libation, and Shirley's uncle said a blessing and poured the contents of the cup onto the floor. Eugene poured more into the cup and this time the uncle drank it, and then Eugene repoured and it was handed to Shirley's father and then her mother, and then Shirley and so on around the room. Once alcohol was poured into the cup we either drank from the cup or poured it on the floor. Carmen and Evelyn, both expecting children, poured their libations onto the floor, and so did I as it was early morning and I had not yet eaten.

The morning light revealed a much more westernized, much more developed capital city than Bamako. Yes Accra still has buses like Sotrames, open sewers and crazy driving where horns rather than brakes are used and walking vendors but it also has tons of greenery, a great deal of people who are not living hand to mouth, a majority of people wearing western-style clothes, more sidewalks, a variety of car makes and models. Also the Sotrames have cushioned seats with backs and not hard wooden benches; the cyber cafes have the newest flat screen monitors and dozens of computers not five; the power outages are planned and publicized...I could go on and on...