We spent the rest of Thursday evening
visiting with my immediate uncles and aunts from both sides of my family. I’m
beginning to understand how convenient it is to marry one’s own kind. Just imagine;
I wouldn’t need to schedule a whole new trip for my father’s side of the
family. Quite a reunion that it was. Uncles, aunts and cousins, some of which I
have never met. Among all the effusive displays of affection and all the
fussing, maybe things haven’t changed that much at all.
There is something no returnee will
dare do; that is to not go pay visits to people one knows in town. With a town
like Lolobi where everyone seems to be related to everyone else, that is a
whole day of hiking………and talking……and smiling. I didn’t know that before but
let me say; after our courtesy visits, I had no doubt I am Miss Congeniality
and that I would make a hell of a beauty queen.
Friday morning, after the first hour
of our visits, I started whining about how tired I was. Mind you, there are no
taxis here, at least that much is the same.
No less than three men, old enough to
be my grandfathers, maybe, have made jokes today about me being their wife. Apparently,
I was quite the heartbreaker in my toddling days. I am told I even rejected
some of them, vocally, without shame. Hahaha, the things you get away with in
the name of being a kid, eh. Now, as a shy young woman, I can barely reconcile
myself with the kid who entertained crowds at a time and relished the
attention.
Most people remember me for my
infamous rendition of different animal sounds. I certainly do not remember but
it is recounted that I created quite a bit of traffic in front of either of my
grandmas’ houses. People going to the stream or their farms or going to a
neighbor’s house to fetch burning coals to start their own fires would stop to
watch the spirited kid mimicking the sounds of different birds and animals. With the
way the story is told, I am surprised I didn’t ace my ornithology course last
semester. I don’t remember doing these things but I have heard the story over
and over again that sometimes I can swear I remember, or at least it feels like
it.
Back then, I was the centre of
attention because of how lively I was as a kid, now, I am the centre of
attention because I am a returnee. It’s like when people look at me, after the
initial “for lormor mgbor?” literally translated “is this you all grown
up?” they revert back to seeing Komla and Jovita’s kid, making everyone laugh. The
feeling this invokes is not unlike that which a carnival monkey might feel when
it is being expected to swing around and do tricks for spectators’ amusement.
***sighs***
“I don’t do that no more, peeps. I’m
all grown up.” Of course, I never say that out loud.
Over the years, a lot of its
inhabitants have travelled outside and returned. And like any other show-offs,
some of the people we visited wanted to prove that, yeah, they’ve also been out
of town at one time or the other. What they normally do is to drop a sentence
or two of Twi in the conversation after my mom has reaffirmed the town or city
we were coming from. I watched in amusement as my mom flippantly let it drop
that I am perfectly capable of understanding and speaking Siwu so they shouldn’t
worry about misunderstandings. Hahaha. This people blast sometimes paa oh. I spent
a few years in this town before we left and they are treating me like I just
dropped from Paris. If they were to meet my siblings who have never set foot on
this land before, they would probably start speaking tongues with them. Oh, and
did I tell you that one of the most irritating habits of some Ewes in the city
was to start speaking Ewe with you once they see you sign your surname? That attitude
was one reason why I stopped speaking the Ewe language. I used to speak it
fluently as a kid but no more. Like I said though, I’ve outgrown all that stuff
and now I plan on relearning the language because aside from the attitude of
its speakers, it is a beautiful language.
The people we met could fall into a
range of variables. They couldn’t be more diverse if we had intentionally
handpicked them for a research. There were the grandmotherly and grandfatherly
types who would tease me mercilessly for something I’m supposed to have done in
the past. There were the motherly and fatherly types who seemed unable to shut
up about their own kids and where they are or what they are doing, some of them
outside town. Then, there were my peers. Most of whom were married and with
whom things seemed awkward.
The weather-beaten clay walls from
which I used to get my fresh supply of soft pebbles for snacks have a lot of
them plastered over. Yes, I used to snack on some of the softest and sweetest
tasting rocks when I was young. I might probably have developed a case of pica
if I hadn’t left. My mom’s junior sister initiated me into it but it was our
little secret. I guess the cat is out of the bag now. Hmmm, the tempting
assault on my olfactory senses every time it drizzles on a dusty road. That smell
of freshness always reminded me of my childhood and now, that too has changed.
That evening, I had yet another
change to be disappointed about. Both of my grandmothers were present and so
were some of my aunts and uncles from either side of the family. Such a casual
gathering rarely happens but with our arrival in town, exceptions were made.
The moon was up but because of all
the competition she was getting from all the light bulbs in town, her luster went
unnoticed. Nostalgia gripped my heart for I even missed the smell of burning
kerosene soaked wicks from lanterns and bobos. Who would have thought? This was
no city and there were certainly lanterns and bobos around but somehow, the
effect wasn’t how I remembered it. The canvas for my memories seemed to be
irrevocably damaged. Maybe it’s selfish of me but I wanted my Lolobi to be the
Lolobi I remember from long ago. I wanted the whole ‘village experience’ to be
like I always remembered. Maybe too, it is time I considered that maybe, just
maybe I am the one who has changed that much.
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