so this slacker fumbles through another day.

December 13, 2009

My homologue’s Aunt died recently and the funeral was this weekend. Cousins from Ghana, brothers from Lomé, sisters fro who knows where- the whole family came to visit. I went over to welcome them and to pay my respects.
One time I heard my Dad describe my mom and her friends as hens clucking. He’s obviously never seen kotokoli women greet eachother (seriously, obviously). How to describe it-
After the usual exchanges of ‘welcome’ ‘How are you’ ‘and your health’ ‘and the work’ ‘and the children’ ‘and anything else I haven’t mentioned.’
One then launches into a succession of ‘yeah’ ‘yeah’ ‘uh’ ‘uh’ ‘uh’ ‘uh.’ The greeting also involves bending at the knees to show respect. I see it as a game and try to see how long I can make this exchange last. Although this also means walking anywhere in my village takes 45 minutes.
There’s a joke about 2 kotokoli women who greet eachother in the street and ‘uh’ ‘uh’ ‘uh’ for so long they are both run over by a car.
So ther I was as more and more women showed-up and each time a spiral of greetings ensued. I smiled, happy to be welcomed to join in and proud to be able to exchange pleasantries. Sitting amongst the women donning their vibrantly-patterned pagne and colourful hijabs I became homesick for the clucking of my mother and aunts.