”Time flows in a strange way on Sundays.”
Today is cloudy and feels damp. It will be around 75°. My sister and brother in law just left. They came down in the early morning so my brother in law could fix my weird electrical problems. He did. All my house is lit.
I have never had expectations for Sundays. The rest of the week was mine, sort of, while Sundays revolved around family. When I was a kid, during the summer, it was often a beach day. During the rest of the year it was a visit my grandparents day or just a stay around the house day. The best thing about Sunday was dinner. It was my favorite meal of the week. The worst thing about Sunday was it was the day before Monday when everything sort of changed. My father left early for work and usually came home late, after dinner. We had school.
I always thought nuns were a bit mysterious. Because of their habits, I could only see their hands and faces. They wore black with a few white accents on their wimples. They wore clunky tie shoes, also black. They also wore giant rosary beads around their waists. I always thought of the rosary as a sort of early warning system. The beads clinked together when the nuns walked so we could hear them coming. Nuns moved in herds. None of them traveled alone. They had made up names like Sister Hildegard and Sister Redempta, actual nuns I had. I never thought of them as regular people. They were their own species.
When I was in Ghana, I’d fill up a Jerry can, attach it to the back of my motorcycle and then take a ride in the bush on tiny roads, more like pathways, some just dirt and others laterite. I was always a point of interest to any Ghanaians I saw. They stopped and stared a bit. I guess they seldom saw a white woman riding a motorcycle on a back road. I’d ride until my gas was low then I’d fill the tank and head home. I loved those rides. I was surrounded by savanna grass and fields of tall millet and corn. I saw singular compounds, no villages. Goats and sheep stuck together and were free range. Women were walking along the side of the roads carrying stuff on their heads. On market days some toted tomatoes or yams or corn. I always felt part of the world around me yet by myself.
keepthecoffeecoming.blog 
August 18, 2024 at 11:34 pm
Hi Kat,
Today was our hottest day of the year 104°. Not worse than yesterday which was 103°.
As a kid in Brooklyn there was a Catholic Church and parochial school down the block from my grandmother’s house. Nuns and brothers would walk down the street regularly. They seemed very mysterious to me also. In those days they all dressed exactly as you described.
I can only imagine what a sight you must have been to the Ghanaians that you encountered on your motorcycle. Much less the free range sheep and goats. 🙂
August 19, 2024 at 12:14 am
Hi Bob,
Today stayed cloudy all day. It also stayed in the 70’s. Tonight it is in the high 60’s, great for sleeping.
We only had nuns, no brothers. They did change their habits so they could see from both sides of their faces. That made quite a difference. I had an aunt who was a nun. She was always in Connecticut when I was young. We went to visit her once a year. Much later she didn’t have to wear a habit and could travel on her own. I saw her more often then, but I never liked her very much.
I used to drive to town often so people in town knew me as did the Ghanaians near where I lived. I do think those villagers more in the bush were probably surprised when I drove by them. My town had very few white people, and I was the only white woman my first year.