Well, it’s hard to believe, but tomorrow will mark a full two weeks since my “baby” went off to board at Achimota Senior Secondary School. I want to say that I miss him terribly – and I do, I really really do – but I have to admit I am enjoying some new found freedom (stick with me and I’ll explain).
Sean, my oldest at 15, is more Americanized than his siblings; after all, he was 8 years old when we moved here in January 2003. He doesn’t have a “true” Ghanaian accent (wholly unlike Alexandra who has now lived in Ghana most of her life) though it does intensify when he’s with his peers (and which he loses when he’s with me). He doesn’t really “appreciate” the local foods – kenkey and Keta school boys, grilled tilapia and banku, groundnut soup and fufu (light soup is fine, but not groundnuts due to a peanut allergy) – though he will eat them if he has no choice. He doesn’t know how to do the typical things that most Ghanaian children are taught to do from an early age – like hand washing his school uniform or using a cutlass (machete) for anything other than playing ninja (before I put a stop to it, that is). He doesn’t even know how to wear the traditional cloth or has spent more than an hour at any church service.
But none of that is his fault. It’s my fault… our fault. We’ve tried to shield our children from some of the “injustices” (that’s in quotes because I’m being facetious – before someone slams me) that this system tends to mete out on children.
So, two weeks ago Friday we brought Sean’s things to him at the school. The head of the dorm that he’s in (Guggisberg, for anyone curious) allowed us all to go on up into the dorm and see where he’d be sleeping. It was not at all what I expected – I guess I’m too Americanized, too, and used to seeing dorms portrayed in American television. It was very crowded, with easily 40 boys sharing the one room they were in, and there were several similar rooms in the building. Sean got a top bunk, right near a window – not sure if that’s good or bad seeing as how the screens were not intact, but he does have a mosquito net so hopefully he’ll remain malaria-free (though he does tend to get it a lot).
Fortunately, the head boy was very nice and seemed more than willing to show Sean the ropes – though I have to pray that that wasn’t just for my benefit and that he really is a nice boy. Then, without a hug or a kiss or a tear we left him and headed home. That was how Sean wanted it. I respect that. But stoicism is not my strong suit.
So, he’s at boarding school for nearly two weeks now.
In that time, I’ve seen him once for about 45 minutes during the first monthly visitation, and I’ve spoken to him on the phone for, oh, about 4 minutes. He told me that he wakes every day at 4:00 am so that he and the other Form 1 students can have their shower before the upperclassmen come down. He told me that he eats a lot of white rice and stew, and has learned to like Hausa cocoa. He told me that they must have a siesta every day, whether they’re tired or not. He told me that he had one mid-term exam and he thought he did well in it (but that’s what I expect – he is a brilliant kid, after all).
But, yeah, I miss him. Most of the time.
When I don’t miss him is when I see Alex and Mike playing nicely, with each other, with no one to instigate an argument that escalates into a fight. Teasing I can do without. It’s also really nice to have my laptop to myself, without anyone rushing me off so that he can play his pc games without lag (no clue what that really means, but that's what he always said). My argument that I’m “working” often fell on deaf ears. Now, I don’t have to worry about that. I also don’t have to worry about cooking for my American son; Alexandra and Michael are more than happy to be invited to dad’s dinner, whatever Ghanaian fare it may be. Sean always hated that I “didn’t eat,” as he put it – “Dad, she only eats like once a day!” So without someone nagging me to cook “real food” I can make myself a plate of French fries, or a tuna sandwich, or just drink Crystal Light all day long, and no one complains. That’s freedom.
Would I give it all up? You bet… in a heart beat. But I won’t because the sacrifice I am making now is for Sean’s benefit. Will he understand my sacrifice when he sits down to yet another bowl of white rice and stew wishing it were my meatloaf and baked macaroni instead? Will he acknowledge my heartache when I picture him with blisters on his hands from swinging a cutlass across too high grass? Will he admire the brave face I put on when people ask me how I think he’s doing (“Oh, I’m sure he’s doing great – loving every minute of it!”), even though I know he’s physically exhausted and emotionally drained. Will he even believe that I pray every single night that he finds inside himself the strength, resolve and determination to succeed? Probably not.
A good friend offered me this quote, "Being a mother means spending your life with your heart outside your body." *sigh* Yeah, so I’m learning. But as Sean is now discovering, some lessons are just more painful than others. I know he will get through this, and I know I will get through this. But that doesn’t make it any easier.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Boarding school blues
Thursday, October 7, 2010
My son, the future Akora!
Here it is, October 7, 2010, approaching 10:00 a.m., and as I sit here typing this blog post, my 15 year old is sound asleep in my bed. While today he is not feeling all that well, this is the norm. And it has been since we arrived back in Ghana in early September.
Because, while Alexandra and Michael have been attending SOS School as dutiful, well-behaved (ha!) children should, slothful Sean has been practicing his metamorphosis act. You see Sean graduated from JSS this past July, and soon (hopefully very soon), he will join the ranks of past and present Akoras as a Form 1 student. For the non-Ghanaian, that is the nickname given a student who attends Achimota Secondary School, long considered one of the best high schools in the entire country. Several notable (and notorious) people (and not all are Ghanaians, by the way) are Achimota alumni including Kwame Nkrumah (the first democratically elected president of Ghana), John Evans Atta Mills (the current democratically elected president of Ghana), Jerry John (J.J.) Rawlings (ummm, eventually a democratically elected president of Ghana), and Robert Mugabe (past, present, eternal president of Zimbabwe, with questionable pedigree).
Yes, we are very proud that Sean got into his first choice school, in spite of his relatively sloppy study habits – testament, perhaps, to his gene pool?
But I digress… as I said before, it is October 7th and he is NOT in school. Why is that? I haven’t a freaking clue.
When we learned in mid-September that Sean was admitted to Achimota, we took a drive to the school. It was deserted. Not a soul in sight, except for the guards at the gate and a single groundskeeper (who, apparently, will be spending the rest of his life trying to tame the huge Achimota campus with only a single cutlass – we can only hope that the blade was sharp!).
Entering the administration building, we found the office of the Headmistress. A woman working in the office (and no, I don’t believe it was the headmistress) could not help us. She didn’t know when school was going to be started. They didn’t even have the enrollment list from the Ghana Education Service. We were advised just to come back (come back?!) once a week (once a week!) and inquire. She wouldn’t even give us a phone number to call. I so wanted to say something about this being the information age. You know, making appropriate and effective use of technology… telephone, website, Facebook, tweeting, something…. but I held my tongue (I know you’re proud of me – it was not easy).
I blame it on the Ghana Education Service, since the buck can’t be passed higher than that. They have postponed and postponed secondary school opening day so many times that we will be fortunate if our kids are sitting behind a desk by the end of this month.
And what will happen then, I have to wonder. Will the school year be lengthened at the end? Will they shorten the between-break holidays? Will an extra hour be added on to the school day? Will students have to forgo their Saturday leisure time? Will teachers zip through the lesson plans with disregard, in the hope that students will learn through osmosis?
In the meantime, Sean is home. We’re steadily accumulating all of the things we think he will need for boarding school life – obligatory red and black metal footlocker, wooden chop box, towels, student mattress and pillows, bed sheets, buckets, cutlery and dishware, iron, etc., etc., etc. We’re not entirely sure we’ve remembered everything – Sly is trying to recall it all from his boarding school days, but as that was generations ago it may be things have changed. Who am I kidding? This is Ghana. Boarding school is a tradition, and tradition does not change.
Sean is home; he is sleeping, eating, playing video games, eating, arguing with his siblings, watching the Mexican telenovela Storm over Paradise and America’s Next Top Model (cycle 5, I think), eating some more. Essentially, driving me nuts. What Sean is not doing that he should be doing is studying the Form 1 books that we bought for him so that he will be ready for the start of school, regardless of when that is and how they attempt to squish five missed weeks into the lesson plan. Essentially, driving Sly nuts.
When will the madness end? Only the Ghana Education Service knows the answer… and they’re not talking.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The Whirlwind, Part 2
Part 1 of my blog covered all the things that made our trip a good one. In Part 2 you’ll understand why I consider it was a great one!
Family! (Bride's side)
The best part of the trip was seeing family from far and wide that I haven’t seen in many (sadly, too many) years. Thanks to a family reunion (my side) we fortunately got to see almost everyone including…
Mom and her significant other, Harry
Uncle Ray and his wife, Karen
Bob and Pattie, with their kids Jason and Joshua, and their kids, Logan and Lilliana
Jim and Maggie, with Jim’s daughter Chelsea
Christine and Jerry, with their kids, Rebecca, Patrick and Elizabeth
John and Heather, with their kids, Tyler, Hunter and Kailey
The whole gang
Christine, Mom and me
Jim, Bob and John, with Christine, Mom and me**BTW, for anyone curious, I'm the oldest -- hard to believe, huh?
Pattie and Bob
Jim and Maggie
And cousins…
Sallieann and her husband, Ralph, with their son Nicholas
Darleen and her husband, Christopher, with their son Murphy
Susan, who flew in from Bermuda
Allison, with her daughter Samantha, who came in from upstate New York
Tara, who could only stay a little while but managed to find time to snag a little sangria
Susan and me
Sallieann and Ralph
And people who we consider family, like Joan and Nick, my mom's oldest and dearest friends.
Nick and Joan
Joan and MomThe weather was gorgeous, the food was amazing and the happiness and love was simply overflowing. These are the people with whom I share some of the most wonderful memories.
Family! (Groom's side)
On two separate occasions (including the 60th birthday celebration for my sister-in-law, Judy), we also got to see the side of my husband’s family that almost all now live in Maryland, including many nieces and nephews who have grown into lovely young women and men.
The birthday party took place the first weekend after we’d arrived, and with a lot of planning and a little deviousness on the part of my nephew-in-law, we made sure we were available for it. It took place at a Chinese restaurant in Silver Spring, not far from our old stomping grounds. Harriette and Augie were the only ones who knew we were coming, and I’m pretty sure my sisters-in-law were all pretty shocked that we were there. It was a heartwarming feeling to see how happy we made Judy by sharing her special day. It had been a long time since we’d last seen Sly’s side of the family – in some cases more than 7 years – so it was lovely being able to catch up with…
Sisters-in-law Stella and Paulina (the matriarchs of the clan)
Judy and her husband, Sark, and their daughters, Harriette and Serwah
Lucy and her husband, Osei, with their children, Nana Yaw, Akuamwuah and Obiniwah (who have all become quite Americanized – it was weird hearing their friends refer to Akuamwuah as Edwin, and Obiniwah as Stella – or maybe we’re too Ghanaianized?)
All of the people who love Judy.
Serwaah, Judy and Harriette
Last, but certainly not least, we were lucky enough to catch up with Sly’s son, Jules, and spend at least a couple of hours with him. We haven’t seen Jules for many (too many) years; he has grown into nothing less than I ever expected him to be.
Friends!
Old friends (and older friends), and new cyber friends – we saw as many as we could.
I reminisced with Fran and Lori (separately) about our days in Lloyds Bank (could that really have been 25 years ago?!). Neither have changed much, and they are both still the same amazing funny women I came to know and love way back when.
Me and FranWe also stayed with Leslie (whom I met in Ghana nearly two years ago) in Maryland for a few days and we had a blast! My kids count the trip to Dave and Busters as the second best day of their lives (and I can't download the pix I took as someone took them in high definition!). I liked the fact that her house was so livable, and not a museum – my kids felt right at home (though, maybe a little too at home). Many, many thanks to Pam, Eric and Adam for putting up with us all.
We also paid a visit to (and had a delicious Jamaican jerk chicken) Tracy-Ann’s house (which is in our old Maryland neighborhood – how’s that for a coincidence!).
We also met some of our CWD cyber friends.
Amanda and Rosemary!
Our first meet up with CWD friends was at McDonald’s Play Place in Leonardo, NJ with Rosemary and Amanda. Rosemary is a typical Jersey girl (and likely why we got on so well together) and Amanda is a cutie par excellence. Despite the age difference, she and Alex had so much fun!
Jenny and Caro!
Then, early on a Sunday morning, we rode the train into New York’s Penn Station to stay a few days with Caro, her husband Hans, and their amazing, talented and vivacious daughter, Jenny Mollet!
(Oh, funny story, we got a little lost in Manhattan – not really lost, just couldn’t find the street I wanted and thought I was headed in the wrong direction – so I stop a man on the street who was directing people to a tour of the Empire State Building to ask for help. He’s got a familiar accent so I ask him where he’s from. “Ghana,” he says. “So are we,” I reply. Small world, eh?)
Fortunately, Caro found us and herded us downtown to watch Jenny who was performing in the musical Aida, along with a very talented group of young men and women (Jenny was cast as one of the Nubian singers!). I wasn’t sure how the kids were going to like it – the boys are more into action and maiming and killing than a love story (even if there is killing involved), and I didn’t know if Alex would sit still long enough. Alex kept asking me during every ovation, “is it over?” And then when I’d reply, no, she’d start clapping with glee. Guess she liked it. The boys, too, kept asking when it would be over, but that was because they were hungry. Boys. Gotta love ‘em.
Alex and one of the cast from AidaAfter some pizza, we rode the subway up to Harlem. Caro had generously offered us a place to stay in her home (which, by the way, was only about two blocks from where my husband used to live and the site of our humble beginnings as a couple – and boy, has Harlem ever changed! For the better! Back then, I was the only white person for blocks and blocks – hmmm, I am beginning to see a pattern here).
On our second day in the Big Apple, we rode the bus down to Central Park. Caro and I enjoyed the beautiful weather and yakking it up (she is so easy to talk to!) as we tried to keep an eye on the girls who were running through the sprinklers and swinging on the swings. After a while, Caro went to look for the girls and was gone only a single minute when I spotted Alex kind of dragging Jenny toward us. Jenny had that washed-out look that Alex (usually) gets when she’s low, so I pointed Caro out to Alex and told her to run and bring her back. When Alex came back with Caro, I made her stop and check herself, too. She was also low (an ugly 2.3 mmol or 50 mg if you're keeping track). Then I felt bad that I had sent Alex off running like that, but she certainly didn’t seem to be acting low. (I hate that, by the way; I’d rather that she acts low as Jenny did, so I am prepared for the number on the meter. Alex’s low came as a complete surprise.) Fortunately, we were well stocked with juice boxes and glucose tabs and it didn’t take too long for the girls to perk back up. (And the nearby hot dog stand helped a lot, too. There was no way I could resist the temptation – I admit, I had 3 – with the works!)
Alex and Jenny, wet, but happyLater we took a little walk down 6th Avenue, passing by the very cool Jekyll and Hyde Club.
Jenny and Alex
Mike outside Jekyll and Hyde Club with a new friend
Then we did some shopping at the American Girl Doll Store (never again) and the Nintendo Store (also, never again), before stopping to eat at the absolutely bone-chilling Applebee’s restaurant – Caro had to run out and buy a sweatshirt for Jenny who was freezing, and Alex threw the pajamas top that I’d bought for her at the American Girl Doll store over her clothes. I am thinking that the frigid temps in there are merely a ploy to force patrons to eat quickly and get out!
Alex and SpongeBob (cost $1)
Alex and her new American Girl Doll (cost? Waaaay more than $1)Maddie and Sarah!
On Tuesday, we met Sarah and Maddie who came down from Connecticut, and we all rode the Staten Island ferry to Staten Island (duh) and back, then roamed around downtown a bit (where the smells of the gyro truck were just too mouth-watering to bypass – I hadn’t had a gyro in more than 7 years! Yum-O!). Then we headed down to the South Street Seaport. There, we watched some street performers (who were kind of crappy in comparison to Jenny’s troupe of friends), and enjoyed Haagen Dazs ice cream.
We left for home on Wednesday with wonderful memories of a great time and even greater new friends.
The CWD Moms!
Toward the end of August we had a planned outing with a group of CWD moms in Virginia. The weather was really threatening, but we figured we were there more for the camaraderie than the swimming so onward we charged (this was just Alex and me at this point).
It was like meeting old friends. And so it was.
So, there you have it. The most amazing trip ever.
