Posted tagged ‘Bolga\motorcycle\’

“In life, more than in anything else, it isn’t easy to end up alive.”

July 31, 2014

I am outside on the deck writing Coffee. The day is such a delight I didn’t want to miss any breeze, any bird song or any butterfly flitting by. It is a bit noisy here as I can hear mowers and blowers and cars going down the street, but those are short-lived sounds and I can be patient until they disappear. Gracie is with me and she is sleeping in the corner in the shade.

Just as I was ready to go out last night I found a dead mouse on the rug by the door. It wasn’t there earlier as I had been in and out and think I would have noticed. It was a baby grey mouse. As to which of my animals is the mighty hunter I have no idea. What is strange is I never heard the encounter. Usually the hunter makes quite a bit of nose running and slipping across the floor. The mouse looked as if it was sleeping and was dry, no saliva all over it, so I’m thinking it was Fern or Maddie. Gracie is a sloppy hunter. Now I’ll set up the have-a-heart trap as one mouse really means many mice.

I am not an accident ready to happen but rather an accident which has already happened and will happen again and again. It is my lot in life. Lately my feet and toes have fallen victims to my genetic defect. A wooden sign which says No Pets was moved the other night, and I forgot. It fell on my foot, and the swelling didn’t go down until yesterday. I stubbed the same toe twice in the last two days. What is even worse is I stubbed it against the cat gate both times. Some people live and learn. I live and have bumps, cuts and black and blues. It didn’t happen when I was a kid. I guess I grew into the defect passed along by my father. My favorite of all is the exhaust burn from my motorcycle. Don’t get me wrong it hurt like hell, but it was the circumstance which gave me to know I was my father’s daughter. There I was stopped on the road to let a herd of goats cross. I was holding my motorcycle but loosely and only by the handlebars. The goats changed direction and ran into my bike which I dropped. It landed on my leg hence the exhaust burn. I think the goats did it on purpose and I’m sticking with that story.

Bolika ( Good Morning in FraFra)

September 4, 2012

My favorite place to sit in the morning is outside the gates of the house on a concrete slab of a bench under a baobab tree. The yellow birds no one can name fly around a tall palm tree and at the fruit of the tree. Their fluttering wings as they eat remind me of humming birds those these birds are larger and more easily seen. As I sit, I see small boys carrying buckets of water on their heads to and from the bore hole. Everyone stops to greet me with good morning in FraFra. I have learned to reply, to offer them a good morning, to say I am well and thank you in FraFra. If I forget a work the small boys says it for me and waits until I repeat then he smiles. The women in the compound beside my house come out to greet me every day. They are pleased when I can answer them in FraFra. I can hear roosters and see goats foraging in the tall grass. I can also hear the mumbled voices from the compound beside me. This is the nicest of all mornings.

Sunday was market day, and I had arranged to meet a few of the volunteers who are posted near here. I said the magic word, cheese, and they all came. I had bought the cheese in a obruni (white man) store in Tamale expected to share. When I was a volunteer food and recent diseases were our favorite conversations. They devoured the cheese and even took pictures of each other eating it. I totally understood.

When they had left, I decided to walk to the internet cafe. My back has been horrendous since last week, and I walk as if I were a mobile question mark. I walk and rest then walk and rest again. I sat down on some steps, and the man at the stall beside me offered his stool, and I sat down. He asked where I was going and i told him. He offered to take me on the back of his motorcycle, and I accepted. It was wonderful, a ride up the whole street. I was reminded of my easy rider days and remembered how much I loved the wind as I rode.

Today was the first day of school. Here punctuality is in the mind of the beholder. I went to Kantia Primary with the crayons, pencils and sharpeners I had brought. Some students were still walking to school, some were sitting and eating while only a few were at the school. The bell was rung so they started drifting in. I went to primary 1 and gave then each what I had brought. Then I went to the pre-primary or nursery school as they call it here and did the same. The kids were thrilled at the new school supplies.

Last night all the lights went out in the village and a few neighboring villages. It was pitch black. I used my iPad for light and went outside on the porch. I could hear voices and the usual night sounds, and I sat there taking it all in for the longest time then dragged myself inside the hot house. I had brought a hand fan with me so I arranged it on my face and fell asleep. A couple of hours later the light and the air came on.

I am going shopping for cloth today and may be going to Kongo to see the chief, but mostly the day is still in the planning stages. I’ll finish here and wander the town a bit.

I have noticed that it is all familiar to me now.