I have mentioned Elias many times in my Blog. His insight into mankind, his German Jew origins, the oppression of the Nazi regime and his strong links with Ghana where he was Head of Sociology between 1961 and 1964. In many ways this trip has been a pilgrimage. I am so fortunate to have studied under, amongst others, world renowned Professor Andrew Linklater. A true disciple of Elias, Andrew opened my eyes to harm. Not that I'm in the harm business. Effective interaction between human beings is key to our future success, given the magnitude of weapons that exist it is probably key to our very existence. How can we get the bigger things right, if we cannot control the little things?
The Bride looked splendid in blue. The traditional Wedding that took place tonight is known as the Engagement. The Christian Wedding tomorrow is known as the Blessing. There can be no Blessing without an Engagement. It just can't happen. So tonight was a momentus occasion for the Bride and Groom. As we approached Patricia's mother's home, I noticed Patricia and her helpers in traditional wear. They were in a corridor gathering around a doorway and preparing the Bride. We swept past the door opening and into the main room. There were three sets of chairs. Two sets facing one another and one set facing them. My friends Tamara and Jeff sat in the guest section, I moved forward. Several people stopped me and beckoned me to sit immdeiately behind Michael in the section set aside for his family. A great honour, I embraced Michael and smiled at others within the room. This is a complicated affair, the arrangements have been taking place for at least a year. Michael is Ashanti, Patricia is not. 'Dim ots', Patricia is a biochemist, a well educated woman whose mother is also a professional in health care. These are quality people, this is a quality family. Ashanti they may not be, but Patricia is more than a worthy wife for Michael. Elegant, strong, educated, and with good values. Michael knows her worth.
Prior to the Engagement both families met to discuss and agree the price. There is nothing alien in this practice, for after all what marriages exists without any financial consideration? It may be who pays for the cake, the cars, the flowers or the dress. But nevertheless a price is agreed, it's just that we agree in a different way. Te price was fair, but many months ago I asked Michael what he would do if the price was too high? I know the price and it is a lot, but it would be wrong for me to declare here. Michael explained to me that "this is the woman that I love, and I am going to marry her". It is a pity that his father did not think the same way. More so in that I had brought along a small gift for the parents at the Engagement and two other gifts from Pauline, the girls and I for tomorrow.
Pauline and the gang would have loved to have been here for the Wedding. The Groom remianed seated, he was faced by an array of adults, all bar one in traditional wear. I smiled at some, I vaguely recognised them. A recent test showed that I am poor at remembering faces and names. But watch out if I have to remember a complex string of moves in a chess game, or recall exactly what you said on a given date and what you were doing when you said it. But that wouldn't happen tonight as everything was in Twi or Ga, or both. Or maybe one of the many other languages that are common in Ghana. I simply do not know. We were faced by a warrior tribe, but we had some handy people in our team. I was there watching Michael's back, but the fine thing was that it didn't need watching. The agreement is between the families and not between the parents. Aparently if things go wrong the families will put it right. This was not an arranged marriage, this was a coupling of love. Eleanor was on our side as well, tonight she looked more like 39 than 48. Not bad given that she is 60+ The lads looked good, traditional costume, smartly turned out. We were a good team, but Mr 'A' wasn't there. It's a tribal thing, but the agreement is between the families, and many who approve and love the bride and groom were there. No insignifcant thing, given the lateness of the hour. Made worse by our late arrival and their willingness to wait. Almost two hours to squeeze our way out of Accra. There are a lot of people in Africa.
The Bride entered the room accompanied by her entourage. Everyone sang, well almost everyone. I couldn;t so I clapped. Not like we do, but in timing with the music, while taking my lead from a gentleman sat in the corner of the room. He raised his hands so that I could see and keep time. Not a straight clap, but more like a drum beat. The bride sat down and the talking started. One person officiated, showed some items to others. Then people on both sides talked. I thing we were challenged to sing, their team had sung a lot. We sung, I hummed. Oh, and I clapped. Gifts were also exchanged and at one point I thought there was another negotiation. I was probably wrong, it had after all - been sorted far in advance. I knew it was a done deal when Patricia was beckoned to sit by Michael. I hugged them, and took yet another photo. It is a hot night, but the food was hotter. No finger food here, well that's not true. What I mean is, no buffet. This was a full blown meal of epic proportions. Goat soup to start, followed by rice, yam, hot stew and plantain. The soup was hot, or so I thought until I tried the hot stew. The fanta was cool, the music was cool, but the night remained hot. Patricia's uncle and Michael's uncle represented each family, they also remained seated. To me they were the family elders. The music continued, the gifts continued, I like everyone else received a gift for being there. This was my opportunity, I took a chance with the mosquito's and made my way to the car. A long path with no lighting, lots of mud and water. A few mosquito's and a lot of noise. I returned with a bottle of wine for each of the family elders and of course a cigar. Well it's tradition isn't it? It's what our tribe do.
The Bride looked splendid in blue. The traditional Wedding that took place tonight is known as the Engagement. The Christian Wedding tomorrow is known as the Blessing. There can be no Blessing without an Engagement. It just can't happen. So tonight was a momentus occasion for the Bride and Groom. As we approached Patricia's mother's home, I noticed Patricia and her helpers in traditional wear. They were in a corridor gathering around a doorway and preparing the Bride. We swept past the door opening and into the main room. There were three sets of chairs. Two sets facing one another and one set facing them. My friends Tamara and Jeff sat in the guest section, I moved forward. Several people stopped me and beckoned me to sit immdeiately behind Michael in the section set aside for his family. A great honour, I embraced Michael and smiled at others within the room. This is a complicated affair, the arrangements have been taking place for at least a year. Michael is Ashanti, Patricia is not. 'Dim ots', Patricia is a biochemist, a well educated woman whose mother is also a professional in health care. These are quality people, this is a quality family. Ashanti they may not be, but Patricia is more than a worthy wife for Michael. Elegant, strong, educated, and with good values. Michael knows her worth.
Prior to the Engagement both families met to discuss and agree the price. There is nothing alien in this practice, for after all what marriages exists without any financial consideration? It may be who pays for the cake, the cars, the flowers or the dress. But nevertheless a price is agreed, it's just that we agree in a different way. Te price was fair, but many months ago I asked Michael what he would do if the price was too high? I know the price and it is a lot, but it would be wrong for me to declare here. Michael explained to me that "this is the woman that I love, and I am going to marry her". It is a pity that his father did not think the same way. More so in that I had brought along a small gift for the parents at the Engagement and two other gifts from Pauline, the girls and I for tomorrow.
Pauline and the gang would have loved to have been here for the Wedding. The Groom remianed seated, he was faced by an array of adults, all bar one in traditional wear. I smiled at some, I vaguely recognised them. A recent test showed that I am poor at remembering faces and names. But watch out if I have to remember a complex string of moves in a chess game, or recall exactly what you said on a given date and what you were doing when you said it. But that wouldn't happen tonight as everything was in Twi or Ga, or both. Or maybe one of the many other languages that are common in Ghana. I simply do not know. We were faced by a warrior tribe, but we had some handy people in our team. I was there watching Michael's back, but the fine thing was that it didn't need watching. The agreement is between the families and not between the parents. Aparently if things go wrong the families will put it right. This was not an arranged marriage, this was a coupling of love. Eleanor was on our side as well, tonight she looked more like 39 than 48. Not bad given that she is 60+ The lads looked good, traditional costume, smartly turned out. We were a good team, but Mr 'A' wasn't there. It's a tribal thing, but the agreement is between the families, and many who approve and love the bride and groom were there. No insignifcant thing, given the lateness of the hour. Made worse by our late arrival and their willingness to wait. Almost two hours to squeeze our way out of Accra. There are a lot of people in Africa.
The Bride entered the room accompanied by her entourage. Everyone sang, well almost everyone. I couldn;t so I clapped. Not like we do, but in timing with the music, while taking my lead from a gentleman sat in the corner of the room. He raised his hands so that I could see and keep time. Not a straight clap, but more like a drum beat. The bride sat down and the talking started. One person officiated, showed some items to others. Then people on both sides talked. I thing we were challenged to sing, their team had sung a lot. We sung, I hummed. Oh, and I clapped. Gifts were also exchanged and at one point I thought there was another negotiation. I was probably wrong, it had after all - been sorted far in advance. I knew it was a done deal when Patricia was beckoned to sit by Michael. I hugged them, and took yet another photo. It is a hot night, but the food was hotter. No finger food here, well that's not true. What I mean is, no buffet. This was a full blown meal of epic proportions. Goat soup to start, followed by rice, yam, hot stew and plantain. The soup was hot, or so I thought until I tried the hot stew. The fanta was cool, the music was cool, but the night remained hot. Patricia's uncle and Michael's uncle represented each family, they also remained seated. To me they were the family elders. The music continued, the gifts continued, I like everyone else received a gift for being there. This was my opportunity, I took a chance with the mosquito's and made my way to the car. A long path with no lighting, lots of mud and water. A few mosquito's and a lot of noise. I returned with a bottle of wine for each of the family elders and of course a cigar. Well it's tradition isn't it? It's what our tribe do.
