Tastes from afar

We saw them about four weeks ago. Nicely big and green. Virgo and I looked at each other, smiled and decided to take them. Since then we've watched them eagerly grow to maturity, every now and then pinching a feel to check how close we were getting. Last week, I was ready to give up, but then, as the snow melted away, so did the green colour, which gave way for a golden yellow brown shade. And today little Em, Ghana-girl to the bone, was the one who insisted it was time. After a light seasoning and fry, she devoured just about all of it in a few minutes (I swear I only got a bite!), and I don't blame her. Plantain; ripe, fried plantain has never tasted that good!

Funeral Politics

It's been a weary two weeks. The shocking news of a friend's death left me out of sorts. I spent the week looking forward to the weekend for some moments of peace and time to deal with the sad news. It seemed I'd forgotten where I'd be for most of the weekend: at a funeral! Yes, three weeks ago that was the shocking news that hit, my uncle died suddenly at the age of 67.

So Friday evening was spent planning for our trip at dawn to the Eastern Region. Now, you only need to spend a few months in Ghana to realise that funerals are the greatest social event. This is where businessmen network, politicians work up their political capital and... single men and women look out for a future partner! Of course, with so much focus on the event, there are rules that go with it too.

1. We sent Em to her (paternal) grandparents for the weekend as children and pregnant women are not meant to go to funerals (the dead person's spirit can enter the child's or foetus' soul).

2. I searched through my funeral clothes for something black - since he was under 70 years old, black is the colour to wear, unless the family selects other colours, e.g. black and red, or brown. If he were above 70, black and white is accepted and if over 80, white is worn to celebrate the long life lived.

This picture refuses to turn upright, sorry!

3. I then made sure I didn't select a sparkly or one of the shinier outfits as that would not be appropriate considering my close relationship to the deceased (my dad's brother). In addition, I picked out a pair of dark pearl earrings, again, solemn enough for the event. Although, once we got out into the sun, my mum complained that they were too bright, but once I had my dad's approval, I kept them on.

4. During the week we also had to make sure my new little family was presented, so Virgo came along, and from my mother's family, my uncle and cousin, to ensure we fully represented the other side of my dad's family.

There are so many other rules that make up the funeral politics of Ghana, how to shake hands, what to eat and drink and who gets buried on which side of the cemetry, but I'll save that for another day. Interestingly, we somehow managed to get into some real politics as my second cousin, an MP in the area, was holding his mother's funeral the same day.

So the sad day ended on a pleasant note after Virgo met his political chums, we all said goodbye to relatives and enjoyed the beautiful green scenery on our way home. Well, that was until we hit Winneba junction. More on that later...

Family time

The world is warm in red, orange and yellow tones with soft music playing in the background... or is that just my life at the moment? After a very long (unplanned and involuntary) separation, Virgo is finally here in London with us and we're spending some much needed family time. The days are filled with walks, trips to friends and family, cooing over the little one (and me hiding the piles and piles of shopping I happened upon in the days before Virgo arrived).

And London weather couldn't be better, since I arrived almost three weeks ago I don't think it has rained more than twice, light drizzles both times. There's a warmth and sunny glow wherever we go. With the fan humming in the background and light snores heard from both husband and baby, it is time for me to shut down and I can only hope that you too are enjoying this August night.

If I'm not around for a while it's because I'm spending all my time loving my little family.

The night before Christmas

I made the best decision this weekend: I decided to go to Ridge Church's carols night, even though I had no one to go with. It may sound trivial but I blame my Swedish upbringing, it takes a lot for me to get up and go somewhere without anyone accompanying me, in London I could never understand (but I did admire) my housemate Miss Valentine who'd easily go to the movies by herself.

Anyway, as usual I digress! The reason it was a good decision? It wiped away all my 'the EC/credit crunch stole Christmas' bitterness and re-vitalised my usual Christmas spirit. So yesterday I met my uncle at the airport to pick up the Swedish goodies my dad had sent with him. I've also managed to stock up on gas (for the cooker), water, drinks and food for the holiday season, while still trying to get some work done. This evening has been spent brewing mulled wine and baking lussekatter (saffron rolls) and soft gingerbread cake (and of course tasting them too).


Tomorrow morning, we'll start early, rolling meatballs, cooking the ham, etcetera, etcetera. Oh did I forget to mention that in Sweden we celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve?

And naturally, growing up in a Ghanaian family, I get the best of both worlds, with Julbord- the Swedish Christmas feast on Christmas Eve, then Turkey, stuffing and all the rest on Christmas day.

Best of all, and unexpectedly, the 28 December elections has created the perfect solemn mood for a simple, quiet family celebration, the way I love spending Christmas. Now I'm just hoping the politicians decide to cool it for a bit so that Virgo manages to join us in our first Christmas in our common home (last year's was spent having delicious dinner at Fiesta Royale, really recommend it, although very expensive).

Merry Christmas to you all!!!

P.S. I promise to document our Ghanaian-Swedish julbord...if I remember to take pictures!

Two years ago...

As we're having breakfast this morning with a TV-movie playing in the background, what happens in the movie suddenly reminds me of what day it is today. Two years ago today, my dear family member, playmate and comforter passed away. Passed away I say, really she was put down, a decision made by the whole family. What a difficult decision to make!

Before owning a pet of my own, I belonged to the group of people who could not understand people crying over their dead pets, after all it's just an animal. But once you own one yourself and watch it become a part of your family, seeing it as "just an animal" becomes a very distant thought.

With us, all bad things happened to F around Christmas and New Year. First there was the car accident, when she was hit after one of the snowballs we were throwing in the garden flew out on to the road and she followed it, at merely four months old. Then there was the hysterectomy a few years later. And two years ago, after being told by the vet that keeping her alive would be considered torture as her internal organs were failing due to old age, she didn't even make it to Christmas.

Making that decision, whilst half of the family was in Ghana was the most difficult. Out of our own selfishness, we wanted to keep her alive til we could go and see her one last time, but realised it would not be fair on her. In the end, Mr. T called us before going in to Bla Stjarnans Animal hospital and once again 30 minutes later when the 'procedure' was over to let us know how it went. Being in Ghana made it all the harder. Who's going to understand when you say "I'm feeling really low because my dog, my family member of thirteen years has just died". Instead we spent the days until Christmas at home, trying to reminisce amongst ourselves of the great times we'd had with her.

Having F in the family for thirteen years has affected my life in so many ways, despite the fact I lived in another country for 6 of those years. To this day I think leftovers will be saved for "the dog" then remind myself I don't have one. Anytime I'm sad or crying, I expect to see F come to me with big sad brown eyes wondering why I'm not happy and putting her head in my lap until I feel better. Or I remember, when we're all very happy (usually after a football game) and rejoicing, how she'd come and jump around in the middle, making sure she didn't miss out on any of the fun.

My beautiful half-labrador/half-golden retriever is gone for good and as far as I am concerned, I'll never have a pet again. It is such a wonderful experience but the sadness once it's gone is too much, and the need to supress that sadness makes the mourning so much worse.

For the joys of having a dog, read this lovely post by Denise.

Family ties

The gossip grapevine (sorry, that's my sort of news, I can't help it) tells me that Charlotte and Nicola Perrelli (Swedish celebs) are separating. To me, the first thing that came to mind was the huge fight the couple had with Nicola's parents, so that he actually cut himself off from his parents and changed his surname. Don't worry, I'm not going to further disgrace myself by displaying my knowledge of all things unnecessary.

Rather, I'm reminded of something my mum always says: At the end of the day, you only have your family. She's always ensured that us siblings have good relationships with each other and don't let arguments continue, because no matter what, it is only your family that you have for life. Yes, you don't choose your mother, father, sister or brother, but for better or for worse, those are the people you're stuck with for the rest of your life.

I thought of this because I can imagine how strongly Nicola would have fought against his family at the time, thinking "It's me and my wife against them, to hell with them" and now, I wonder what his world will be like when he's broken off from the family he was born into, and suddenly, the family he created has fallen apart.

Part of the charm of life is the fact that you are forced to be raised with a bunch of strangers (really, that's what they are, aren't they?) and you have to aim to make it work because they are the ones who'll give you a kidney or bone marrow when you need it, or simply be the ones you look like, talk like and have relationships with till you die. To make that work is a constant task, but the rewards are amazing. People who come from very close families tend to have a certain confidence, a belief in themselves. If you have close ties, it's like having a backbone that cannot break, no matter what life hits you with, your backbone will keep you standing up.

Although we can create new families with friends and lovers, there is something so unique about sharing DNA with another person, knowing that no fight, no event can break the bond between you.

I can only wonder if Nicola now longs for his family, after the legal bond he thought was unbreakable is showing major cracks.