Obroni Obama

Yesterday, Alexandra waited just outside the gate for the Fan Ice guy to pass by on his bicycle-pedaled ice cream truck. Most of the vendors know that "rich" kids live here, and come by tooting their horns (aaooohhh-ga!) and ringing their bells. Alex was too impatient to wait indoors, in fear (God forbid!) that she miss him... it's not as though they don't come past every 15 minutes or so, mind you.

Anyway, while waiting outside the gate, a woman and her toddler will sitting on the steps about 25 feet or so from where Alex was. The woman started to call to Alexandra, "Obroni come, come." Alex, smart girl that she is, didn't come. Rather, she came into the house to complain that some woman was calling her "Obroni" and that I should go out and stop it. As if I could.

For some reason, today, it struck me as odd; obviously, I've heard it before. But here are our three beautiful children, who have been variously referred to as half-caste, mixed race, mulatto and bi-racial. The most common Ghanaian endearment, though, is "obroni." For those of you new to the phrase, obroni means white person.

Obviously, I accept that I am obroni. My children, however, are not me. If you ask any of them, are you white or are you black, they all respond that they are brown. There's absolutely no distinction between. I know I will someday be saddened by the fact that they will have to make a choice or claim one color and deny the other.

But what occurred to me is that my children, have a very similar "make up" to the Democratic contender for the U.S. Presidency, Barack Obama. He has a white American mother and a black African father. My kids have a white American mother and a black African father. When Barack first won the seat for the U.S. Senate, and had his picture posted in nearly every magazine in America, I said to Sly, this is how I picture Sean will look when he grows up.



In America, Barack may be the "Great Black Hope." In Ghana, he's just another "Obroni."

School Daze - Update!

BEFORE

After 15,120,000 seconds from September 11, 2007, I am happy - no, scratch that - thrilled - no, scratch that one, too - utterly ecstatic to report that ALEXANDRA is FINALLY going to REAL SCHOOL!!!

No more home-schooling (which, I sucked at), no more jealous and whiny retorts from the boys (I can't believe you let Alex [watch TV, take a nap, buy ice cream... you name it, they whined about it]), no more funny looks from the shop-keepers ("that kid should be in school!!"). No more. Thank God.

And you know, I think it was all by "accident." On Friday, February 29th (what a great day, ain't it?), Sly got "flashed" by the SOS Head Master. I actually think it was a wrong number, and that he never meant to dial Sly. But Sly naturally took advantage and called back. After a few minutes of chit-chat, Sly got down to the nitty-gritty. "Any openings in Class 2 yet?" I watched Sly's face slowly break into a big grin. Thumbs up! It looks good; not definite, but not an outright turn down. We should call on Monday morning.

Fast forward to Monday 8:00. Sly calls. Jeez, the Head Master (or "Headie" and the JSS kids call him, so Sean reports) is out of the school till 10:00; can we call back? Duh. At 10:03 (Sly doesn't want to appear too anxious), he calls again. YES!! SHE'S IN!! "Headie" suggests we come in tomorrow (Tuesday) to pick up the forms and stuff, and then Alex can start next week (freaking mid-term break). Well, nertz to that. She's starting TOMORROW! We're out of the house like a shot, straight to the school, Alex in tow (naturally) and wondering what the hell is going on. We're going to your new school, we explain. When we pull into the SOS lot, she can hardly contain herself.

Inside the administration building, we sit and wait for the secretary to give us our forms. Alex is nearly beside herself. She keeps clutching my arm, "Really? Really, Mommy? I'm going to go to school here?" She double checks with Sly, in case I'm pulling her leg. Sly does not kid.

Next day, first day of school, off we go. Alex is a little nervous, now that the day is here. But she's a trouper. We have one last thing to do, and that is to pay the tuition bill. "Headie" comes out of his office to sit beside Alex. He tells us to leave her there, and the teacher will come collect her. Now it dawns on her. This is it. Mommy is not staying; Mommy is going. Uh oh. She forgot what it's like. Tears well up in her eyes. I'm gonna have to go soon, before I make a fool of myself.

Once back home, Sly and I take advantage of the peace and quiet (Wink! Wink!), now that Alexandra is where she belongs, with her brothers and among her peers. Growing.

AFTER