SUNDAY MORNING

It echoes in my ears, “Karen, are you passing?”  My response would always be the same.  Stop to say hello and confirm that, yes, indeed, I am passing through the village.  I purposely would take the long way home.  It was one of my favorite times to unwind in Saint Lucia.  Things were on Saint Lucia Time and one never just passed without walking up to a porch for a few words.  It just wasn’t done.  

There was an older lady who lived by the sea.   If I remember correctly her name was Mrs. Nichols.  She sat on her porch, all day everyday, enjoying the sea breeze and waiting for someone to pass.  I would bring homemade chocolate cookies and we would talk about the old days.  An elder man, Jeffrey, would talk about his late wife.

Today is Sunday in Accra.  It is quiet.  Vendor stations are padlocked and church can be heard in the distance.  Taxi drivers honk their horns and goats can be heard with their loud baa’ing sounds.

I need a morning walk but I’m not sure where I’m going.  I approach the end of my block and come across the signs.  So many signs.  Do I go left or do I go right?  It really doesn’t matter, although I usually walk left.  So this time I will walk to my right.  The homes in the Contenments are different than in Micoud Village.  Porches are behind gates and there are small buildings at the gates where guards are housed. As I walk through the streets there is a different ring to it, and little way to get to know any of the people behind the imposing high walls, large gates and the guards protecting the property.  At least, until now.

Down the road I come across D Café, a little French Bakery with free WiFi, coffee and croissants.  I forgot Ken mentioned this place a week ago.  It's a nice find and I should have found it earlier.

I stop at the café and order Green Tea and a Caramel Tart. I ask for the internet password and sit on the patio answering a few emails and enjoying Ghana Time.

I watch the people come and go, mostly foreigners; Abruni . . . the white people. Everyone speaks a different language.  Is this a luxury that the average Ghanaian cannot afford? Or, perhaps they enjoy something different for their morning ritual? I finish my tea and continue my walk taking a different path through side dirt roads.  As I pass, there are a few people sleeping under trees or sitting on chairs doing pretty much nothing but enjoying their day off.  Magically (and I mean that because I’m a directionally challenged), I end up on my road.

As I approach my house with the tall gate and security guard, I spot a motorcycle that I have been curious about. There is a poster taped to it. Mariam Sinare, National Women’s Organizer.  Each time I pass I am curious. This time I decide to take a picture so that I can come back and research its meaning.  Just then a man pops through the gate.  I hope he doesn’t think I’m doing any harm.  Whew! He’s friendly.  I ask him about her and he tells me she is running for this position to organize woman regionally.  He asks where I am from and is somewhat impressed when I tell him Los Angeles; more impressed when I say the “Home of the Lakers”.  

He asks if I would like to meet her.  Of course I would!  We walk through the locked gate.  There are a few cars that I maneuver around.  This compound appears to have the main house in the front and smaller buildings in the back.  Between the buildings is a large grassy area where children are playing.  It is bustling with people.  As I follow this man, someone looks at me quizzically.  I point to the man I’m following and he smiles.

I am led to a back building and walk inside.  He says something in Twi and quickly a woman gives up her seat for me.  I am seated in front of Miriam.  I introduce myself as Karen. She seems to have a little difficulty so I say, "you can call me Ama".  She smiles and says, "Good, I will call you Ama Karen".

The people are given a Ghanaian name based on the weekday in which they are born.  I am a female born on Saturday and so my name is Ama.  (Follow the link to find your Ghanaian name)

We talk about what she is doing.  She is obviously passionate about empowering woman and proud that she speaks in the “language of the government.”  She explains that she is a link between the world of the average regional woman and the government.  She understands the needs of woman and believes she can help them, but she must also unite them to achieve one voice.

Miriam speaks about Flight Lt. Jerry Rawlings who served as the President of Ghana from 1993-2001.  Rawlings was in the Ghana Air Force and led a coup in 1979 handing Ghana back to the civilians.  He held increasingly important positions in government climaxing with the Presidency in 1993 and leaving in 2001 after two terms in office.  Ghana has a two-term limit.

Rawlings wife, Nana Konadu Agyeman Rawlings, is highly educated and her commitment is to raise the status of the women of Ghana.  She is President of the 31^st December Women’s Movement, a Non-Government Organization committed to women, their rights, their link to the family and their livelihood.  

Miriam is running for National Women’s Organizer of the National Democratic Congress, NDC.  She appears to be well networked.  The NDC is a political party founded by Rawlings.

After we talked about her commitment to the women of Ghana we walk outside and I meet her family.  “My mother is Ethiopian”, she proudly says.  They spoke for a moment while her mother continued making a large salad.  Finally she looked up and smiled.  “This is my brother.  He is a pilot.”  I spoke briefly with him.  He asked me what state in the U.S. I came from and he disclosed that he lived in Texas for a year.  She introduced me to her daughter.  “She was born in the United States.  During Football, she wanted the United States to win.  That was not popular in our family!”  She was joking and obviously proud of her family. 

So, there were no porches, but there were people worthy of having a porch and I got my porch conversation fix.