The undisputed highlight of the year was our trip to Ghana in the summer for my grandmother’s 92nd birthday celebration and a family reunion. Grandmother has 11 children, 42 grandchildren and about 100 great grandchildren on 3 continents, and so as you can imagine, it was a moving and momentous event.  Everyone who was physically able attended the 4-day long celebration, which  involved copious amounts of food and festivities, music and merriment and, in the final analysis, virtually the whole township of Abetifi, where she lives.  Abetifi, the “highest habitable point” in Ghana, as the sign reads (perhaps highest inhabited point would be more appropriate), is a quiet, lush green municipality which rests atop the Kwahu mountain-range in central southern Ghana. Swiss missionaries settled there over 125 years ago, and the Presbyterian Church, built of stone hewn from local manganese-rich quarries and standing symbolically at the highest point in town, bears witness to that bygone era.

Of course, the celebrations also entailed an enormous amount of organisational talent. The whole clan was garbed in the same festive white fabric with a black geometric pattern – it was left to each individual’s fantasy to determine which style to wear. Cousins, aunts and uncles last seen anywhere from 2 to over 25 years ago were warmly embraced and a lot of catching up was done. My parents housed an additional 16 people (only their children, grandchildren, in-laws and hangers-on)  for over 2 weeks, but with a military-style mealtime regime and a motley mixture of English, French and German, we all got along fantastically.

We spent the time before and after the celebration traveling the coastal areas,  visiting several ancient fortresses, built centuries ago by European (Portuguese (anno 1492), Danish, Dutch, German and British) colonists, colourful markets and art and craft galleries and evaluating various beach resorts. We visited a maternal aunt, who having taken a sabbatical year from her teaching job in Minnesota to complete her Ph.D., was fulfilling her traditional duty as queen-mother of Swedru quite regally. We also visited a village on stilts, aptly named Nzulezu (on the water). Nestled in 3 metres of cola-brown water (due to volcanic mineral salts) the village of 500 souls is accessible only by a 30 to 60 minute-long canoe ride (depending on the season (dry or rainy) and the depth of the lagoon) through protected mangrove and crocodile inhabited wetlands. Everything there is done on the water, whether it be daily ablutions or laundry, and it was fascinating to see children, as young as 5 or 6, setting out serenely and confidently for untold adventures in hand-crafted dug-outs. The spartan but spotless 2-room guest house boasted overnight stays by visitors from as far afield as Australia and South Africa.

One episode, among many, stands out from our 4 week sojourn. It was the arrival on my parents’ doorstep of our former gardener,  who claimed he was alerted to our presence in Ghana by a friend, who had perchance espied Cord. Nothing so special about that? And where and when did this chum catch a glimpse of Cord? Through the windows of the vehicle in which we (10 or 12 of us) were travelling, as it made its way through Nsawam, a large transit town about 45 minutes north of Accra. Still not impressed? How about this: the last time this fellow laid eyes on Cord was about 13 years ago, and anyone who knows Cord also knows that he has changed a lot in those 13 years. At the time Cord was spotted as we drove through Nsawam, we were listening to a hilarious radio program – the moderator reeled off various aphorisms and adages to accompany his pronouncements, among which was “the probability of your being watched is directly proportional to the stupidity of your actions” - just another reminder of how circumspect one must be with one’s actions in Ghana……

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