The morning is a delight. I sat outside on the deck to read the paper and drink my coffee. I kept stopping to listen to the birds and the rustling of the leaves on the swaying branches. Today will be hot, in the low 80’s. Tonight will be cooler. I have an errand, the only entry on my dance card.

When I was in Ghana, I learned groundnuts (peanuts) grow under ground which makes the British/Ghanaian name perfectly descriptive. Its flowers grow above the ground while the fruit, the nuts, grow underground. In the afternoons, when the school year was just beginning, my students harvested the nuts. I went and watched and took pictures. Groundnut stew is a common Ghanaian dish. I was skeptical that groundnut paste (peanut butter) as a base made for a tasty stew, but it did. It had tomatoes and onions and chicken. The stew was the color of the groundnut paste.

In Bolgatanga where I lived, I was the only white woman my first year there. Everyone in town knew who I was. When I was learning Hausa, the language taught to me during training, I learned the greetings first. I used them all the time as I was greeted everywhere I went, and I loved being able to return the greetings. That always delighted the Ghanaians. I could use the specific greetings like I greet you in the market or I greet you at work. I could also say good morning, good afternoon or good evening. I could ask how you are feeling. The answer was always lafiya lau. I’m fine, no matter how you felt. When I went back to Ghana the first time, I greeted people at dinner in the hotel restaurant, ina wuni, good evening. Later I found out there was discussion at their table about the white lady who knew Hausa. That was when they figured out who I was.

I love mangos and papaya. I eat hummus, falafel and tabbouleh, the foods I ate in the Lebanese restaurants in Accra. They were inexpensive foods, perfect for Peace Corps volunteers. I like fufu with stew, a Southern dish, and also t-zed with stew, a Northern dish. I could eat plantain, my favorite Ghanaian food, at every meal and also jollof rice, my favorite Ghanaian dish, at every meal, and we’re talking breakfast too.

I brought so much of Ghana home with me, not just things, but memories. When I watch YouTube videos of Bolga, I feel joy and happiness but also sadness that I am not there.

When I first woke up, it was 5:30. I let the dogs out and went on the deck. It was still damp from last night. The morning sky was beginning to lighten. I stayed on the deck until the dogs finished their business then the three of us went back inside and back to bed. I woke up at 8:30.

Today will be hot again, 88°, but it is a pretty day with a breeze from the south, a blue sky with a few clouds and lots of sun. I have nothing on my dance card today, but I figure to honor the third law of nature, the law of action, and do a wash even though the laundry basket is not even full. This is a big step for me. I have little laundry and no trash. It is like a miracle.

When I was a kid, we didn’t take too many vacations away from home. I do remember when my sister Moe, the youngest, was still a toddler and we went to Vermont, way into northern Vermont. We went with another family. The house was huge and was on a small country sort of a highway with two lanes and few cars. Across the street was a lake. It was shallow for a bit then there was a huge drop-off. My father used to take me on his back underwater. I remember there were fish in the deep part. I’d stay underwater until I tapped my father’s shoulder, our agreed upon signal, to let him know I needed air. Behind the house was a huge hill and beyond that were pine trees, a copse of trees. A rivulet flowed beside the house. It had the biggest frogs I’d ever seen. We’d spent hours catching the frogs, but we always let them go. It was the fun of the hunt we enjoyed. My father built a lean-to at the top of the hill. He cut limbs and tied then together to form the lean-to which had sides and a roof. He covered the roof with pine branches. I thought my father was amazing. I never knew he could build a lean-to.

The house had an enormous porch, a wrap-around porch. I remember the kitchen had a phone on the wall, the sort with a crank. If you cranked it, you got a small electrical jolt. We cranked it anyway.

My parents crossed the border into Canada for dinner one night. I was totally jealous, not of dinner but of dinner in another country. I begged them to take us on a ride into Canada, but they didn’t. I was really disappointed. Years later, we did go to Canada and see the falls. It was finally my first other country.