The African coastline is my magical place.
The stretch of oceanfront that beckons me is the one with palm trees a short distance away from the shore. Fishermen with their canoes are a strolling distance away. In that vista, time stands and the past, present, future all become surreal. This is my Africa. I look at the fishermen and can imagine this scene decades ago and even centuries. And no doubt it will be the same scene decades from now on many stretches of Ghana’s coastline. Sometimes women pass by with wares perfectly balanced on their heads. They are not really looking to do business. For this particular day, that is the route they have chosen. The blending of past, present and future mesmerizes me. I breathe in the sight and breathe out the relaxation and feel both humbled and exalted in the same breath. I pick some sand upwards in my hands even as my feet sink downwards in it and I imagine many women who have sat here and taken this scene. They thought their thoughts and have gone. I feel totally brought down to the level of the sand and humbled as I concede that I am 'nothing'………….only walking sand after all :/ as all humans are.
But paradoxically in the same instant I feel exalted. The ocean is one of the most awesome of all creation and it beckons me and promises in a language that speaks to my heart that if I hang around a bit longer, I will get a bit of its voluminous exaltation. I can already feel being exalted as all annoyances become but 'a drop in the ocean' and finally blend in with the voluminous miracle. I feel I can tackle any issue, love the people I thought not worthy of it, forgive those who went out of their way to hurt me and feel noble and magnanimous towards all humankind. On my way back I imagine the trotro (minivan bus service) drivers will not rattle me if they cut into my path with no warning as they are wont to do.
Different people get this mystical rejuvenation from different sources. Some get it by being around mountains, waterfalls, rivers, bubbling brooks, open fields, forests and other places. Some go to one place on a regular basis because that place does something positive to them. It relaxes them. They may not be comfortable to use the phrase, but it really nourishes their soul.
Long before I could articulate this, I held a special admiration for people who spent times interacting with nature. They seemed to me to be pure souls….no time for gossip or slander or wasting time and energy on taking offence or taking revenge and I yearned to be like them. I wondered why they were like that and slowly I began to realize what feeds us makes us. The way we spend the time, the kind of people we hang out with, our surroundings, what we read and watch and listen to……..all these they feed us…….in addition to the kinkey, fish and pepper (a Ghanaian staple dish) because we are not only physical beings who eat physical foods but we are spirit beings and soulish too and these must also be fed and green green and red red (Ghanaian foods), delicious as they are, will just not do the job. The ocean ‘feeds’ many and the ‘nutrients’ make me feel noble and magnanimous. It may wane but I am on a mission to come back again and again.
Besides water is a major in physical life. Before our birth we grow in water, can’t live without water, can’t get really clean without water, solid foods have water, the air we breathe has water, and we are made up mostly of water. So we can say we are right at home in water. The undercurrent on most Accra beaches is very strong and swimming is best done further west. The ocean, without touching us, can move in winds and breezes and salty whirls and pummels and jabs and punches our bodies and we can feel the salt on our skin and realize that even without entering the water, we receive an excellent circulatory workout. This is the ocean talking to us….What a magical place.
I love , dare I say it………!
At Makola, African fabric sellers rub shoulders with shoe sellers, shampoos, bags and lots of other fabric shops. The atmosphere is pulsating. Raw humanity. In the market the heckling is not persistent unlike some tourist souvenir outlets thus giving you the freedom to look around at leisure. And bargaining is not embarassing. Can you get away with that in a mall. You may bump into people you’d rather not but surprisingly you see them differently. They see you differently. If they do their shopping at a market hey they can’t be all that bad. Am I the only one who feels that way?
I love markets because they are real. They are not pre-packaged. They are raw and timeless. They have been the way they are for centuries. The market is not different from the way it was from our great grandmothers’ time. And no matter how sophisticated the city they are in is supposed to be, the market is a ubiquitous part of it and may relocate but doesn’t look like it will go away. And of course there are some ‘posh’ shops inside the market to be an excuse for those who need an excuse to shop in the market.
I heard that in one city a Ghanaian traveller witnessed a woman and her boyfriend get off a train. As they did the woman slipped and fell. Instead of helping her up, the man jumped a foot back. Our Ghanaian traveller wondered at this lack of empathy but was told by his host, that that is the thing to do because if he helps the woman and she gets hurt in the process of being helped, he will be liable for damages. So to avoid this wahala (West African lingo for problematic) the man jumps back and leaves the woman to get up on her own as best she can. What is that they say about calling right wrong and wrong right?
In Makola, sellers who do not
have their own shops or stalls or tables carry their wares on their heads and
walk amongst us all. If you fall chances are you will touch someone, probably a
bunch of people and everyone will have to rush to your aid because it is
expected that someone will help you up as a brother or sister. In the midst of
human traffic, haggling for best price and calling out for buyers, it is quite
difficult to react in anyway other than instinctive.
Part of the hassle and
imperfection of the market also keeps us disciplined in our shopping habits.
Who wants to go through that wahala with all that human traffic, the heat, the
gentle shoving because you are always in someone’s way and others are in your
way. A trip when we need to is plenty enough. In malls with their
temperature for optimum comfort, sweet, relaxing music in the background,
deodorized everything and beautiful, eye catching packages, consumerism takes
over and the buying (or desire to buy) frenzy can hardly be satiated. The
market brings us from cloud nine and puts our feet on solid ground…hard ground
and not very pretty. This balances us out, so no matter how much we love
the luxurious feel of shopping malls, if we don’t balance it out with trips to
the market we will slowly lose that grassroots touch that will help us stay
humble…..and in my opinion, real.
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