We are in the midst of a heat wave, that is if you compare the temperature to last week’s when it was around 8°. Right now it is 46°. Even though we’re socked in by clouds spread across the sky I’m going closet hunting for my Hawaiian shirt. I don’t think I need sunscreen, but I’ll keep it around just in case.
Yesterday was an amazing day for me. I got to play the newest book at uke, and my finger barely hurt which is a great thing as next week I have 4 uke events: practice, a lesson, a mid-week concert and another on the weekend at the mall. I’m thinking three of those might be enough for my crooked, barely bending finger. Yesterday’s second event made me cry. I was bemoaning my fate of a dead TV to someone I don’t know all that well. When we meet, we usually chat so the TV came up in conversation. I told her how I compensate with my iPad. Why didn’t I buy a new one? I explained I was being given a TV which best fit my budget. She asked how much one would cost. I had no idea as the dead TV was one of the first HD sets and was massively expensive. It worked well all these years and deserves its eternal rest. She handed me a check for $500. I thanked her and refused the kind offer. She said she was paying it forward in honor of a relative who had passed. I couldn’t refuse. That’s when I cried. That’s when I got my hug. The third and culminating event was a package from my sister and brother-in-law congratulating me on the end of my PT, four months after the surgery. It was filled with cookies from Cheryl’s. I ate two.
Where I lived in Ghana was way up country. It was the poorest part of the country and the region with the most extreme temperatures. Right now it is 101°, a dry 101°, but soon enough the dry heat will disappear and the humidity will start. The rainy season isn’t far away. My students, on one of my return trips, told me they were amazed I lived in Bolga as many Ghanaians would not choose to live there, but a white woman did. I didn’t tell them I had been posted there even before I got to Ghana. I knew nothing of Bolga until mid-way through training when I spent a week there meeting the principal, checking out my town and what I needed for my house. It was the rainy season.
It didn’t take long for Bolga to feel like home. I got waves and greetings everywhere I went. I fell in love with my town and was so very thankful to have been chosen to live there. That’s what I told my former students. They said they knew that.
