SOME TIME IN TAKRAODI

Saturday morning, I had two things on my mind: seeing the festival in Cape Coast and finding a particular book that I saw in Cape Coast on my first visit. Both the festival and Black Star Books were in downtown Cape Coast, so that is where I wanted to head.

Before really getting to sleep in, Anita came by the room and told me that her Mom wanted her to accompany her to Takraodi to see her uncle. Rather than go to Cape Coast by myself and make an attempt to find the other JHR people in town, I decided to also go to Takraodi.

So we got ready and headed to the bus station where we would meet Mrs. Ackerson and Irene and continue on together. The bus was late about one hour, but when it arrived Mrs. Ackerson was surprised and happy to see me. I was surprised that she was surprised, because I told Emmanuel to tell her that I would be in Cape Coast, but the message did not reach her. So when she saw me at the Cape Coast bus station, she lovingly scolded me, inquiring what I was doing there. It didn't take long for me to turn her scold into a smile and we headed for the bus.

Togther, we traveled along the coast, and – surprise, surprise – I fell asleep. Before reaching Takraodi, Mrs. Ackerson told teh bus driver that we wanted to get off early, so he pulled over to the side of the road. Not sure where we were, I followed their lead we walked up to a house that had been dropped in front of. Behind the tall stone wall and the metal gate, there were a couple of houses, all part of one family compound. As we continued around to the back of the property, there was some people cooking, some doing laundry, and some goats walking around. The scenery actually reminded me of the Okanogan valley in British Columbia, which surprised me and gave me a nostalgic feeling.

After the initial chatter in Fante, I was introduced to a bunch of people including Granny who decided that I was bringing her back with me to Canada. All this was also spoken in Fante, as she does not have more than “Hello” down in her vocab. Can’t say I’m much better in my Fante, though Mama Ackerson is determined to teach me. One thing Iwant to add is that they are surprised that I often know what they are saying -- seems I am getting an ear for the language.

From there, we headed deeper into Takraodi, to another suburb. Being that Mama Ackerson's brother was not home, we would have to come back later. That was good because it afforded us the opportunity to go see some other family. When we arrived, the house was also a compound, but this one was on a hill. In was kind of like San Francisco in the movies, and if you were in a police chase there you might get the same high-flying results…though police chases in the area are minimal…near non-existent...I don't know if there has ever been one.

At the house, I went through another round of introductions. Of them all, one four year old girl, Manuela was very shy, and kind of afraid of me. I was the first ‘Abruni’ to ever be at their house, so she didn’t know what to make of me. Irene, being mischievous noticed her shyness and pushed her towards me. She was still very shy, but reached out to give me five.

Before getting roped into staying at the house and watching a Hindi movie (that’s a Saturday staple), we decided to head into Takraodi. The squad was Irene, Anita, and myself, but Manuela whispered that she wanted to come too, so we brought her along.

As we crossed the street, she took my hand. and used her free hand to cover her face from shyness. Holding my hand, we walked down the road to the coastal highway for a taxi. On the way, I came across a hilarirous moment. A whole bunch of boys started calling out “Peter Crouch, Peter Crouch”. He is a tall, slim footballer (soccer player) who played for the English team and for Liverpool. I actually like how he plays (aside from pulling on that Trini defenders dreads to secure his header goal in their World Cup match). I was cracking up that they were calling me him; that was a first, but I see how they could say that. Part of why it made me smile is that I like the fact that this tall, slim guy is doing so well at the highest level of the sport -- so, I took it as a compliment.

Once reaching the highway, we jumped in a taxi, and my little homie Manuela, sat with me, still too shy to talk. I called Kari from JHR who works in Takraodi and we decided to meet at a local hotel for lunch.

The lunch was very nice and it was great to see Kari and her friend from work. It was extra nice as she and I had connected the most out of all of the JHR people. It was funny because I actually heard about her before I met her. I had just told a friend of mine that I was going to Ghana, and she responded saying that someone at her church had the congregation pray for her as she was going to Ghana. My friend added, "maybe it's for the same program"…turns out, it was Kari! She laughed when I asked her if her churhc had prayed for her before leaving.

During lunch, Manuela began to have tears roll down her cheeks. I had not thought about it before, but she had never been in a restaurant or in a hotel eating Chinese food with some people that she had never met before. It was very strange and overwhelming for her. Anita, Irene, and Kari’s friend tried to comfort her. She stopped crying, but was still very quiet.

By the time we finished, Manuela was a bit sleepy, and was happy to be carried by me to find a taxi back home. It did not take long for her to fall asleep in my arms and it really melted my heart. She was just so sweet and skinny like me.

When we got back, I carried her inside. For about half an hour, we just relaxed, watching the end of the Hindi movie that was on theTV. Before we left, I was surprised to see that Manuela was awake and hanging out with the nieghbourhood kids. Everyone came out to see us off as we headed back to see Mama Ackerson’s brother. I can still see little Manuela saying ‘bye’ without the shyness, and then going back to play with her friends.

At the uncle’s house, dinner was ready, so we had to eat again. He is both a military man and a professor in the United States. He sat there advising his nieces about their educational decisions and discussing life in North America as it compares to life in Ghana. He calls Ghana ‘Mama’ and loves the country, but he is hurt by how it is being managed. His hospitality was nice, and after a couple of hours, Anita and I headed back to Cape Coast.

Upon reaching Cape Coast, the first priority was the book store. We met Dydy in town and I guided them (to their amusement) to the location of the store. At first I thought that the book was gone, but I was happy to find that it was still there. It is a book called “Madness Visible” and it is written by a war journalist named Janine Di Giovanni. We picked it up and made our way through the crowded and crazy festival streets.

Some people were clearly drunk, some in costumes, some dancing, some eating, and others walking in entourages in a celebratory fashion. We were hungry and looking to go back to the residence and shower. On the way home, we stopped in a restaurant for some food, and then headed back. Once we got back, I was feeling exhausted again. As most people bathed to go out, I was bathing for bed. I spent the evening between chilling with Dydy and his boys, and Anita and her girls in their respective dorms, before going to sleep.

One detail that I will add is that things with Anita were getting a little too close for my comfort. She is very cool and fun, but I am not interested on any other level, and being around her so much was getting awkward. She had some other ideas, but I had to break it down to her. At this point, things seem to be straight.

After that long day, I was exhausted. I did not plan on going to church the next moring, but was intending to get up, get my things together and head to Kumasi on my way back to Tamale.

P.S.
I hope to go back to Takraodi to see Kari and Maneula (my little homie!).