In my father’s childhood, he says there was always an extra pair of feet under the dinner table. It was the depression, his mother couldn’t turn away a traveler down on his luck, and in a family of nearly 20, those extra feet and the mouths attached to them were hardly noticed. When few homes had telephones and the mail might take weeks to arrive, folks were accustomed to company just dropping by – and when you live in the country, work from dawn to dusk, have no television, and don’t see many people beyond your immediate family, company can be a welcome change.
Somewhere along the line, we became a society of carefully planned schedules and organized social engagements. We expect people, perhaps especially relatives, to call before they come over – or just wait for an invitation, depending on the relative. In fact, we can be downright put out if someone shows up unannounced just when we were planning to catch up on those recorded episodes of Lost or having a nap while the kids are at a birthday party.
I didn’t realize how deeply ingrained, in just a single generation, this change in attitude had become. My sense of imposition is extremely deeply seated. The idea of dropping in on someone creates the same feeling in me as if I were considering taking money from the offering plate or grabbing hold of an electric fence. Every fiber of my being screams, “No, you can’t do that!” And I had no idea this stricture was even there until I came to Ghana.
Ghana is much like the South Dakota of my dad’s childhood. Not everyone has a phone or can afford to make the call, the mail is unreliable, people find they have to travel suddenly and unexpectedly, often due to a funeral or other family crisis, and travel is unpredictable so there may or may not be a lot of extra time at one stop or another. Planning when you might visit someone is difficult – and knowing exactly when you might see a loved one again is unlikely. So, there is a strong culture of “welcome” in Ghana. The greeting “Akwaaba” not only translates as “You are welcome”, but really means it. I'm told the response translates as “I am one of you”, which just seems perfect to me.
Last time I was here, I went to Accra and spent one or two weekends with our partner, Tim, and his wife Shika, a wonderful couple with five kids. The first time I think was because I needed to do some shopping and didn’t want to drive in and back in the same day. I think the next time we went to see the James Bond movie. Without an excuse, I don’t know if I would ever have been their guest. It was all I could do to call and invite myself, even though they had made it clear on many occasions that I was welcome anytime. Isn’t that just what people say, like “Let’s do lunch”?
Not in Ghana. In fact, Shika told me one time that when someone is at the gate she always gets excited, just like she did as a child. It doesn’t matter who it is, the excitement response is just natural – learned, as much as my aversion to just showing up – but still completely ingrained and seemingly immutable.
On this trip, I have been here by myself almost the entire time. I was fortunate to have guests from Holland for a few days and a weekend, but other than that it’s been just me. So, early on, I called Tim, under the pretext of going to see Avatar at the Accra Mall. It wouldn’t have mattered, but they like movies, too, so he immediately invited me for the weekend and I had a comfortable excuse once more. When I was leaving on Sunday, he and Shika invited me to come the next weekend. My imposition alarm was like an air raid siren in my brain, but after several “Are you sure?” exchanges I finally agreed to come again, but like the first time, I didn’t go until Saturday morning and I returned on Sunday afternoon.
I’m not saying I’ve changed completely, but on this trip, I think I’ve had 10 weekends and I spent 4 of them in Tim and Shika’s guest room. They now call me Tim’s Scrabble wife (I think he’s ahead about 60/40) and last weekend I went down on Friday night and didn’t come home until Monday morning. What will Miss Manners say?
XO
Somewhere along the line, we became a society of carefully planned schedules and organized social engagements. We expect people, perhaps especially relatives, to call before they come over – or just wait for an invitation, depending on the relative. In fact, we can be downright put out if someone shows up unannounced just when we were planning to catch up on those recorded episodes of Lost or having a nap while the kids are at a birthday party.
I didn’t realize how deeply ingrained, in just a single generation, this change in attitude had become. My sense of imposition is extremely deeply seated. The idea of dropping in on someone creates the same feeling in me as if I were considering taking money from the offering plate or grabbing hold of an electric fence. Every fiber of my being screams, “No, you can’t do that!” And I had no idea this stricture was even there until I came to Ghana.
Ghana is much like the South Dakota of my dad’s childhood. Not everyone has a phone or can afford to make the call, the mail is unreliable, people find they have to travel suddenly and unexpectedly, often due to a funeral or other family crisis, and travel is unpredictable so there may or may not be a lot of extra time at one stop or another. Planning when you might visit someone is difficult – and knowing exactly when you might see a loved one again is unlikely. So, there is a strong culture of “welcome” in Ghana. The greeting “Akwaaba” not only translates as “You are welcome”, but really means it. I'm told the response translates as “I am one of you”, which just seems perfect to me.
Last time I was here, I went to Accra and spent one or two weekends with our partner, Tim, and his wife Shika, a wonderful couple with five kids. The first time I think was because I needed to do some shopping and didn’t want to drive in and back in the same day. I think the next time we went to see the James Bond movie. Without an excuse, I don’t know if I would ever have been their guest. It was all I could do to call and invite myself, even though they had made it clear on many occasions that I was welcome anytime. Isn’t that just what people say, like “Let’s do lunch”?
Not in Ghana. In fact, Shika told me one time that when someone is at the gate she always gets excited, just like she did as a child. It doesn’t matter who it is, the excitement response is just natural – learned, as much as my aversion to just showing up – but still completely ingrained and seemingly immutable.
On this trip, I have been here by myself almost the entire time. I was fortunate to have guests from Holland for a few days and a weekend, but other than that it’s been just me. So, early on, I called Tim, under the pretext of going to see Avatar at the Accra Mall. It wouldn’t have mattered, but they like movies, too, so he immediately invited me for the weekend and I had a comfortable excuse once more. When I was leaving on Sunday, he and Shika invited me to come the next weekend. My imposition alarm was like an air raid siren in my brain, but after several “Are you sure?” exchanges I finally agreed to come again, but like the first time, I didn’t go until Saturday morning and I returned on Sunday afternoon.
I’m not saying I’ve changed completely, but on this trip, I think I’ve had 10 weekends and I spent 4 of them in Tim and Shika’s guest room. They now call me Tim’s Scrabble wife (I think he’s ahead about 60/40) and last weekend I went down on Friday night and didn’t come home until Monday morning
XO
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