Valborg

Today is Valborgsmassoafton. Don't even know what it's called in English (google tells me it's called Walpurgis Night), but in Sweden it's a significant day. It's the King's birthday, (not that anyone really celebrates that) but also it's the day that really signifies us getting close to summer. Because 1st of may is always a holiday (Labour Day), Valborgsmassoafton is the night on which teenagers get hold of booze, usually from their parents' stock at home (in Sweden you can't buy alcohol under the age of 20) and get drunk in various parks.

After finally meeting K yesterday, she reminded me of Valborg. What came to mind was how the days just go by in Ghana and unless you remind yourself, it's easy to drift from one month to another without realising.

In Sweden, because of the contrasts of seasons, you are always reminded of what time of year it is. Around this time especially (and noticeably so in the Swedish blogs I read), everyone is looking out for those signs of summer, knowing the temperature of each day and sometimes even the time at which the sun rises!

Apart from that, the celebrations and events of the year are celebrated so much more than here in Ghana. At Christmas each home is decorated in green and red, with a Christmas tree, Christmas Star and the smell of mulled wine and saffron from the lussekatter. Equally so, at Easter there are yellow feathers in place and Easter dinners of eggs and fish. Around this time of year, studenten is round the corner, i.e. when the 18/19 year olds graduate from college/our 'A' level equivalent. In June, we celebrate Midsummer and in August most homes hold a Kraftskiva, celebrating the harvest of the larger crabs/crayfish(?).

I love those celebrations and traditions and find it a nice way of always having something to look forward to. I think the only thing that comes close in comparison is Homowo for the Gas. (Sorry to the Kwawus, I know you travel to the mountains for Easter but I honestly don't know what happens there). Even Christmas doesn't seem to carry much value in this land brimming over with staunch Christians.

For the past two years, I have tried to hold on to my traditions, but it seems to be a losing battle and towards each holiday, I find myself glancing at the cheap flight deals...

Mardi

It's amazing how tired we can be without realising it. This morning, after a very good night's sleep, I just couldn't rush and get on with my day as I was supposed to. It seems the brain told the body "don't rush, there's nowhere she has to be today, everything can wait til tomorrow" and I gave in. My lunch meeting was cancelled and nothing else has to be done today so it looks like it'll be another day at home. At least that gives me the opportunity to sort out the piles of work papers that need sorting and prepare my handing over note.

I'm glad I don't need to get caught up in Tuesday's Accra traffic. It is such an odd phenomenon, lots of traffic on a Tuesday. I've asked the reason for it several times and from what I understand, most households do their 'marketing' (love that expression, that's going to do the weekly shopping in the market to me and you) and I guess because the fishermen don't go to sea on Tuesdays, that's when they'll get the opportunity to run their errands too.

So for now it seems I'll stay safely holed up in cozy Tema!

Swedish lunch

The last few days have been very hectic. Didn't realise how relaxed I was being about leaving work until it was time to go for the day and I realised everything would have to be packed up and put into my car.

Went for a drive later Friday night all the way to Aburi. It was lovely, the view of Accra from that side of town, the fresh air, the silence.

Then, Saturday morning, I was off to L and J's beautiful house in McCarthy hill. For weeks we've been planning a Swedish lunch for L's mum's 60 birthday party to remind her of her many years in Sweden over twenty years ago. L's sister A also came over and we spent the whole of Saturday getting most of the preparations out of the way for the lunch on Sunday. Luckily my mum had given me loads of her tips and recipes to help us cook.

We prepared Toast Skagen (toast with a seafood filling on top) as a starter, Smorgastarta (sandwich cake)

for the main course, beef filet with mushroom sauce and potatoes also for the main course, then jordgubbstarta (strawberry gateau),

karleksmums (chocolate squares), chokladbollar (chocolate balls) and syltkakor (jam cookies). They really were pampered! We even remembered the seafood allergics and the diabetics.

Luckily for us, L got a chef to prepare the main beef and potato meal, but it was still a lot of hard work preparing the rest for up to fifty people.

Although it rained, this was only to our advantage as the guests came slightly late and we were able to finish on time. Yesterday we also spent the whole day on our feet, serving, instead of laying it out buffet style.

I think they all really enjoyed it, the atmosphere the food and being able to sit down and have it all brought to the table, rather than the traditional buffet style functions. Most importantly, the birthday girl, Auntie E seemed to enjoy it all.

For us working behind the scenes, I don't think we realised how tiring the whole weekend had been until last night. When I got into bed, my feet were tingling from tiredness and I thank my lucky stars I'm not working today. The day is going to be spent relaxing at home, blogging and munching on some karleksmums!

Shock

Oh my God.

Sometimes you just can't believe what's going on in the world. How can anyone keep their daughter locked up for 24 years?

It's also hard to believe that her mother didn't know what's going on. I don't want to judge, but come on!

I guess we'll just have to wait until the whole story unravels...

American President

Time Magazine has beautifully captured the Obama vs Clinton campaign in this picture, don't you think?

What I find worrying is, with all the talk and mutual slating between Hillary and Obama, is McCain just chilling and looking forward to victory? It does seem like he is getting away easily, without too many personal attacks. The Democrats should be careful they don't spend too much time bringing each other down, leaving only McCain standing.

There, that's all I'll say on the American election for now.

A grey day in Accra

Today’s weather reflects how my soul was yesterday, grey, gloomy with surprise rain and thunderstorms. The sea, my fountain of joy in life, is nowhere to be seen, it has completely blended with the sky to create an endless view of grey, grey, grey.

Although Accra may be gloomy, I am having a better day. Very busy packing away my life at the office. Since the office is also moving location, it's not just me who's packing up my work life in the central business district of Accra for new adventures.

The day will look even better if as agreed the poet and I spend my last lunch at this workplace at Tribe, looking out over the vanishing ocean. Today I think I deserve to treat myself to their delicious lasagne, but for now, I'll just enjoy a spoonful of the poet's Horlicks and a cup of tea as I wrap myself in my pashmina.

How are you spending your day today?

A lawyer's power

Monday morning did not start off well. After leaving the gym, as I did a right turn which I had indicated for quite a while, slowed down for two bicycles to ensure I didn’t hit them, a third bike rider who was obviously in his own world, rode right into the back of my car. Luckily he wasn’t injured and got right up and continued riding. I wasn’t amused and my gut feeling told me today felt like a day for a car accident. I said a little prayer (dear God, please let me get to work safely) and continued driving to work. As I took the right turn after passing Ridge Circle, I breathed a sigh of relief, I had made it...or so I thought. Just as I passed the exit of the car park I felt my car turn to the side, as a person leaving the car park (I had seen him, but didn’t realised he would drive with his eyes closed (after all, what other reason could there be?)) hit the back of Roger.

Luckily for me, he was a driver of one of the top guys in the bank in our building so I wouldn’t have to worry about him driving off. After I had told him off for his reckless driving, we went to his boss’ office to discuss the accident and what would follow.

What made me laugh was that the first thing his boss (who I often meet and greet at the entrance of our building and in the lift) said after hearing what had happened was:

“Oh, how could you hit her car? Don’t you know she’s a lawyer?!”

It so perfectly summed up the respect/fear that people have of lawyers in Ghana!

Now what awaits is sorting out the buckle and spraying Roger, which has all been delayed because of my extra long dental appointment yesterday and not being in the office today. The bank guy has since Monday made sure he calls often enough and even stops by the office to make sure I am still happy and not concerned about the delay in fixing the car. Naturally, he ends every conversation with: “So madam, we are ok? Please don’t send us any legal letters.”

Words of Wisdom

While sitting at the dental clinic, waiting and waiting and waiting, I got the chance to start reading a book that SQB lent me. The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. So far, it seems very inspiring, a book that you pick up and read a chapter out of to get guidance when necessary.

From what I managed to read today, it reminds me a bit of my favourite of all time, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. This book was such an amazing journey for me. To this day, I can’t remember where I was when I read it, know I was on a plane going somewhere (definitely not home, which at that time was Gothenburg or London), I had about five hours on me, and I took my time and read the whole book. I can’t remember the story and have not read it again yet (SQB is giving me a copy which I’ll read after the Prophet), but I recommend it to everyone.

I think I recommend it because of how I felt after finishing the book, which, luckily I still remember. It was a sort of Eureka moment, wow, life can be so easy if we just go with the flow and try to live with nature, embrace the simple life. Sounds very flower-power now, but I’m sure those who have read the Alchemist know the feeling I am trying to describe. Once I got back to London(?) I made two decisions very easily, decisions I had previously gone back and forth on.

I think The Prophet may have a similar impact on me. My favourite line from today was in the chapter ‘on marriage’, a topic that we’ve been discussing a lot lately (had a discussion with Ruby and her workmate about it just yesterday). The Prophet says:

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

What a fitting quote for an ocean lover like me! And what a beautiful way to capture how we change as people in life and therefore our love cannot be a solid, tangible thing but rather something so abstract that is always in transition.

Dentist - friend or foe?

Today I spent four hours at the dentist. Yes, f-o-u-r hours. Thought I was going for a quick check up to sort out the toothaches I’ve had on both the left and right side of my mouth, and yes, they did check it out, but I hadn’t counted on the many x-rays, the compulsory teeth cleaning by a dental hygienist and the many, many minutes of waiting in between.

Will have to go back next week for more extensive work to be done, for now I will not talk about that. Have never had a fear of the dentist ever, it’s always been a great experience. Mr. T and I would go together when we were younger, he first, always.

After dealing with his issues, braces, etc. and scolding him for not handling dental hygiene as well as he should, it would be my turn. “Ååååh, så fina tänder!” the lovely Ebba would say (that’s “Oh, such lovely teeth”) and her dental nurse would nod in agreement.

That’s how the majority of my dental checkups have been – always a pleasant visit where I’d be showered with compliments.

Unfortunately, after next Friday, I may join the mass of odontophobics, a majority of human beings, a group that I guess most of you are already part of.

The land of cohabitation.

As mentioned earlier, in Ghana it is common to stay living with your parents until you get married. Not only for financial reasons, but because that is the done thing. As a good Christian you are not meant to be doing anything ; ) that would require you to live with anyone else until you are married. Of course, it doesn’t mean things are not being done. Ghanaians go off to university either in Ghana or abroad and live on campuses, having all the fun that you do on campus.

Ask around and you’ll find that many Ghanaians, even after university, are unofficially living with their girlfriends or boyfriends. But would anyone ever come out and say it? No.

Coming from Sweden, the land of cohabitation, we’ve even made a word out of it (sambo = cohabitee), I didn’t realise the taboo about living together. I’d speak to a friend and he’d tell me about his girlfriend of four years, so naturally I would ask, “are you living together?”. He’d look at me as if I’d asked whether he eats babies for breakfast and exclaim “Noooo!”. After a while though, I realised, yes, people may not be officially living together, but they’d be found at their partners place four to five times a week, is that not more living together than not?

In Sweden, cohabiting is such a natural thing, nobody gives it a second thought. Most teenagers look forward to the day they can move out, and most do move out at least by the time they’re 21. And of course, if you’re going from a rent free existence to paying all your on bills, it’s convenient to have a flat mate, and who better than a boyfriend? You won’t need more than a one bedroom apartment and all the bills can be split, while your relationship grows to the next level. I would say it is very common that after 18 months in a relationship, cohabitation is the natural next step.

It is quite funny that in Ghana the pattern is probably the same, but due to the burden of being a good Christian, it is all going on behind closed doors. In fact, when a couple can no longer keep the fact that they’re living together a secret any longer, they’ll simply start referring to each other as husband and wife and leave it up to you and me to decide whether we can be bothered to go and look for their marriage certificates.

It seems in Ghana we live by the old tree falling in the woods notion: if you live together but keep up the pretence that you don't, in your God's eyes it's not happening. Hm, somehow, it seems the spiritual leaders are not being given the kind of respect they ought to be given...

Whose country is it anyway?

We sometimes forget that people have been travelling round for centuries, it wasn’t in the 20th century that we humans became globetrotters. This realisation came to me yesterday as I was enjoying my fufu and groundnut soup (aaah, memories!).

Ghanaians, well those of a similar background to me, feel (yes, admit it, you do) a certain resentment or irritation towards the foreigners who come and settle in Ghana. I think it’s a combination of being colonised and having our most valuable natural resources stolen from us and the treatment we receive in Western countries that make us feel like, well, I’ve gone back to my country like you wanted, so why don’t you stay in yours.

Of course it doesn’t come out in every day life, we all have our friends from all the corners of the world but there’s a certain possessiveness over mother Ghana, like, I’m in my country now.

So imagine my surprise when speaking to Virgo’s Lebanese friend only to hear him say his father and grandfather were born in Jamestown (Accra) after his great grandfather came to Ghana in the 1850s. I can only describe my reaction as snopen (will try to think of an English word, but I’m sure you’ll get me) when I realised his family came to Ghana 30 years before my maternal grandmother’s family did.

It really made me think, what makes a country ours? How long we’ve been there, what we’ve done to help develop it, or whether some of our DNA comes from its people?

If I were to have a sexual encounter with a Vietnamese man and have a child by him, and I never speak to that man again and never visit the country, how Vietnamese is that child?

For me it has always been so easy to be Ghanaian, as being a foreigner in Sweden, you will never be allowed to feel Swedish, believe me the passport checks at the airport when you are coming “home” will always remind you that you are not a real Swede.

Also, my parents have always talked so much about Ghana and taken us to Ghana so many times. However, in Ghana, I’m not considered Ghanaian at all, and why should I be, I don’t speak the languages, can hardly cook the traditional dishes and have spent less than three years living here? So how dare I of all people feel any possessory rights over a country I have only recently adopted as my home land?

Until I realise what makes a country mine more than anyone else’s, I will avoid saying that any country is mine to claim against another, whether Ghana, Sweden or any other country I adopt. I hope you join me in acknowledging the global village we live in.

Party weekend

Friday night was so good, really really good. Started by going over to Ruby’s for drinks with Virgo, then continued to Monsoon for a short while before going to Reema’s where Boi’s 30th birthday party was taking place. How sweet of his parents to actually plan a surprise party for him and get all his friends involved.

The music was great, almost constantly, we danced and danced. The best thing about it was that almost everybody was out, so much fun catching up with people. The night continued at the Office, before crashing in to bed around 4.30 (for the London/Brussel crew that may not be impressive).

It’s much better to just go out once in a while and have a really good night than to try going out every weekend and just see the same old faces in same old Accra.

Actually, Saturday was also good. After recovering from the night’s fun, I went for fufu and groundnut soup with Virgo, SQB and Sad-Ass at their friend’s house. Then, home to relax, change and take my mum to a party, before continuing to dinner at the Architects house. From there we continued to Labone for a house party, briefly met little H there, but the party was dry and I was feeling tired so I left after a short while. Have a business meeting this afternoon, then, if I get home early enough, I’ll prepare some sushi for the week, and hopefully, hopefully be in bed by 21:00. Old lady like me needs to get some rest!

20:20
Got home a few minutes ago. There is no way I am getting to bed on time, oh well, will have to sleep next weekend!

Convoy of Idiots

On my journey from the client's office in Tema to the office this afternoon, I was stuck behind a convoy of idiots on the motorway. Seriously, it was a convoy, about nine or ten cars with their hazard lights on, driving at 95km/h...in the fast lane. They perfectly blocked us all so nobody would be able to pass.

But it was actually worse when we got to Tetteh Quarshie. I suspect one car was on the verge of breaking down, or maybe he just needed to sneeze, so naturally, as you do, he just braked. From 80km/h to 0. Of course his fellow idiots did the same thing and halted to a stop, leaving the rest of us screeching, trying to also stop in time.

When he realised there was nothing wrong with his car, he and his friends joined the road (in the curve that leads us to join the Legon cars), as you do, without looking or checking if anyone else was actually already on the road, forcing about five sensible drivers to swerve off the road to avoid an accident.

There is something about Fridays, weekends and national holidays. For some reason the driving is so much more reckless. If only it were because people were drunk, at least we'd have an explanation, but I suspect their stone sober. Is it that, when leaving the office for a few days off, people leave their brains behind, to be able to get in to that extra relaxed mood?

Before I even get started on the things that went on in traffic around Christmas (u-turns on the motorway, anyone?), let me just make a general plea: as you're about to leave the office for the week, make sure your thinking machine is with you, just like your bag, phone and keys and let's all have a great weekend starting...now!

Tips

Found this really interesting website that talks about new guidelines for caring for babies. Have a look here if you are a new parent (or for any of us who'll have children one day)

Plastic fantastic

Between this

and this,
is it me or is the world becoming just a little too used to plastic surgery?

The whole "my beautiful mommy" story cracks me up, with the "happy ending" and the woman's son bragging about mummy's new belly button at a party. Gosh, these children's body images are going to be so messed up!