November 13, 2018
Tuesday
I awakened to the somehow familiar sound of a rooster crowing and men working nearby. Their banter traveled the morning air as trucks rolled by, carrying cargo to their destinations. I lie there with my eyes closed, absorbing all the sounds and sensations. Moist cool air touched my shoulders, and the scent of vegetation permeated the room.
“I am in the Motherland. Kumasi, Ghana.” I first thought it. Then I whispered it, enjoying the taste of the words on my tongue. Kumasi. Kumasi Ghana. Accra. Accra Ghana. I softly said the words under my breath as I slid out of bed and padded barefoot across the cool tile. In the bathroom I whispered it louder “Kumasi. Africa. Ghana. Accra.” Loving the feel of the words on my tongue, I chanted, making them my morning mantra.
Early morning also brought a chagrined representative from the mayor’s office. The Officer of Protocol was his position. The day was spent unraveling a long string of miscommunications between the municipality and our delegation from the African American National Chamber of Commerce based out of Charlotte North Carolina. Finally, it was decided we would be moved to another location and become officially hosted by the mayor’s office. Smoothly and speedily, we were moved from the hotel we’d chosen to one more centrally placed.
We unpacked, settled in, and awaited the promised car and driver which would be at our disposal for the remainder of our trip. This hotel was neither as old nor as quaint as the one we’d departed but held the modern conveniences of a strong WiFi and a well-stocked restaurant. This place, as with the other two we’d utilized, was spotless, well organized, and extremely hospitable.
I noticed something peculiar but consistent in all 3 hotels we patronized: they all had large buckets in the showers equipped with a smaller ladle type vessel, (called a pail). When asked, my colleague explained: “Most Ghanians bathe with a bucket at home. Sometimes you must draw the water in the bucket then bathe. You soap yourself, then use the ladle to wash away the soap. Even though the shower is available, many prefer to wash traditionally.” This time we were in separate but close rooms. We chatted from room to room, then went downstairs for breakfast.
Our meal consisted of fresh fruit, the popular chocolate vitamin drink Milo, and offerings of toasted bread, omelet, and (oddly) baked beans the sort of which we usually eat at cookouts. If you desired, fresh fish could be fried as well. I chose the Milo into which I dropped a package of Nescafé coffee, in search of my customary caffeine boost. I later switched to strong, sweet, hot tea which I took with ‘tinned’ milk as my grandmother and I did so many years before. I sat in the open air, tiled restaurant enjoying the tea, the air, and memories of my grandmother. We idled the morning away familiarizing ourselves with the hotel complex and its occupants.
The awaited driver delivered us to the mayor’s facilities where we were installed in an office overrun with books, files, newspapers, and two well-dressed gentlemen. We were introduced to Dr. Kojo Yeboah, (the head of the Revenue Enhancement Team and City’s head Registrar) and sat waiting for an audience with the mayor in the cramped quarters. As we quietly conversed, many topics were introduced. Time moved slowly until finally the quiet voiced assistant of the mayor collected and ushered us to his office.
In the office we were confronted by a room of 23 subdued men dressed in various garb. Some were dressed in the European style of suits (tight legged well-tailored suits), while others were dressed in the traditional garb of Ghana (colorful ensembles also well-tailored, made with beautiful materials), still others were dressed somewhere in between, with roughhewn shirts over well-made trousers. All had noncommittal expressions on their face as we were ushered in. The Mayor spoke first in perfect, Twi-accented English: “Good Evening, thank you for waiting. We are glad you are here. I will ask that you introduce and tell us a little about yourselves.”
And so, the meeting began, with the three in our delegation introducing ourselves and stating our business. As we went around the room hearing the introductions of others the men gradually warmed up. Their official demeanors thawed as they became more comfortable with who we were and what we wanted. They proudly told us of their role in this arm of the government. After introductions, we all settled down so they could share their vision of the future of Ghana.
Despite all of the excitement in being there, I couldn’t ignore a dawning sense of disappointment in the direction of the discussion. Most of what these men shared ended with a statement like “Just get us the money, we will then make all the changes.”
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