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Lots of stuff including Art

Lots of stuff including Art
Newport lad from Crindau, and Ceredigion resident for 27 years: former firefighter Roger Bennett

30 August 2008

The Blessing

The streets were heaving, there was plenty of human traffic again and far too many cars. We needed a siren, but all we had was gridlock. I started hissing, but Jeff and Tamara didn't notice. Jeff was confident that the wedding wouldn't start on time, but hey folks I had travelled to Africa for this one and I was getting to the Church on time. We alighted, and Tamara slid across to the driver's seat. Not an easy task, I was in the back and this was three-door. Worse still as we opened one the heat hit me. I leaked and grabbed my jacket. Jeff thought he knew where it was, but the man from Europe showed him the way. The street sellers couldn't sell, as I simply wasn't interested. I was striding along on the mid day sun. No sun block, it was too hot and it would have run.

The 'Solemnization' of Holy Matrimony between Michael and Patricia took place at the Presbyterian Church of Resurrection in Accra Central on Saturday the 30th August 2008 at twelve noon. We arrived at 5 to, and I needed the bathroom. No problem, only a handful of people had arrived but this would swell to 200 by the time the Service started. Jeff was right, I was wrong. This was Africa and the Service wasn't going to start in a hurry. I took some photos, well that's not true, I took a lot. So did Jeff and the others. Michael looked good, well he should for after all he is an Ashanti. The Church was decorated with large ribbons that run for many metres in several directions, matching coloured balloons and flowers. The people were decorated as well. Some in traditional dress and many in suits. I was passed a flower, but only if I wore my jacket. I put it on and leaked more. I didn't think it was possible to leak any more, but I did. There were chairs at the front for the bride and groom and I was ushered to sit on the first row on Michael's family side of the church. A great honour.

I stood outside and watched the Bride arrive. A noisy affair and to me somewhat dangerous. The video guy was in the lead taxi. Well, not exactly inside. He was stood on the side of the car exposed to every hazard and filming with the camera resting on the roof. Tricky for most people, but this guy was filming at speed. The crowds parted as the the taxi followed by the BMW swept along the road, with horns so loud and frantic that they sounded like a siren. In fact when I heard them in the distance, I thought that someone had been knocked down. I was wrong, it was the girl from the educated tribe coming to marry the man from the warrior tribe. Good effort, what an entrance!

The car did not have white ribbon, instead there were ribbons of many colours. Unlike Patricia who looked lovely in white. I must admit, so did the maid of honour. Her future husband, whoever he is, is going to net himself a fine catch. What he doesn't know yet, is that like many societies including ours, he doesn't get to choose; the woman does. Then there is a negotiation.

I sat back down inside the church and took a few more photos. Don't panic, I had asked and everyone else by now were doing the same. The Bridal March began. A slow moving affair consisting of many people that were led by the choir. Patricia took her place beside her husband and they sat. The 'Salutation' was followed by the first of 6 hymns, the last one being a solo piece. Hymns were interrupted by the 'Declaration of Purpose', 'Exhortation', 'Solemnization of Marriage', a Sermon and Prayer & Benediction. The Sermon was the one about the poison lady. I guessed the ending prior to the main part, let alone the conclusion. Mr Jeff and I have discussed religion and concluded that Sermons are pitched at the lowest level; an educated person can quickly lose interest. No chance of that today, I smiled and clapped and sang. It was a good sermon, the emphasis being on working at it together. Not everyone guessed the ending, and I kept quiet. The Wedding March was preceded by African singing, which took place while the Register was being signed. It was a long Service, more intense than anything that I had experienced back in the UK. The Hymns seemed different, my favourite being 'This is my story, this is my song'. I sang, those that know me, know that I don't sing. But this is Africa and I had travelled an epic journey to be with my friend. I sang, not as well as 'the singers of the night', but for me; I sang well.
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