nanakwame

it was dark, and cool, because it had just rained, again. sometimes i like to shine a flashlight into my dinner bowl, just to see what i am eating. because knowing what one is eating is comforting. but on this particular night, the air was the type of humid that encourages big nasty insects to fly around, into lights, into bowls, and sakola swatted at my torch when i brought it out.

"you're right." i said tucking it away.

we ate our food in silence, because that is the way sakola likes it. he prefers to not talk while we are eating. in fact, he prefers no sound at all. one night i was happy and decided to hum while i swallowed (most ghanaian food is meant to be swallowed, not chewed. there is a specific word that means "to chew one's food")

"ei! kissy! wo kasa dodo! you talk too much."

"i'm not saying anything."

"you see?"

"see what?" i asked.

"NO! you SING! you SING when you eat, is no good, no good at all."

so i shut up. and then, i couldn't stop giggling, because dinner seemed so serious. i looked over at collins (who eats out of his own bowl, unlike everyone else who shares a bowl) and i winked. no response.

some nights on the porch are brimming with entertainment with random people stopping by to share in the food or tell outrageous stories, or play board games, or just relax and share in the passing moments. one of our favorite past times is to make fun of NanaKwame's english. of his i'dliketosay. everyone gets in on this, especially collin's mother, who is always working hard cooking or cleaning or preparing her lesson for her kindegartoners the next day. he's fiesty enough to defend himself and continue speaking however he pleases while we all roll around on the ground laughing.

other nights seem long, slow, and the interaction is dry. no talking while eating nights. those are the nights it's hard for me to sit up straight on the benches, without squirming around and wanting to walk home rather than wait for dinner to come. those are the nights i don't like speaking twi, each word struggles to come out of my mouth and my ears hurt from listening to it. those are the nights when i feel i am completely used to everything, that it has all become like second nature, and although it is long and slow and interaction is dry- i still love it.

and on this dark cool night, when i was sitting like a good school girl not uttering a word, dipping my hands into the bowl and swooping out my fufuo, swallowing then swooping again, i heard a loud scrambling on the side of the house.

i ignored it.

then we all heard it.

no one mentioned a thing.

there was the sound again, then in a grand entrance nanakwame came swinging around the corner, tumbling over himself and the ground and smacking into the side of the porch, then disappearing underneath.

we looked at each other with quizzacal faces.

"MMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYY PEEEOOOPPLLEE!!" nanakwame screamed out, as he popped up from the ground, then on to the porch. he jogged in place saying "ooohh ohhhh my peoooplllee!"

"KESSSSS!" he ran over to me, picked me up, shook me around. "KESS KESS KESS! OH KESS!"

then he dropped me.

sakola had a big grin on his face, staring up at nanakwame from the bench we eat dinner on. i whispered "someones pretty drunk huh?" and sakola laughed and shook his head. all the brothers claim they don't drink, although i've "caught" all of them and their friends, except collins, wasted at one point or another. mostly after a funeral.

but tonite was like any other week night. what occasion was there for nanakwame to get drunk?

i looked over, he had sakola's 4 year old sister lifted high and he was spinning her around. she didn't like it at all. children can feel when they're safety is endangered, i could see why she didn't want to be his play toy. she squirmed out of his arms and ran away.

collin's father, who is always crouched on the porch, quietly wrapped in a blanket, who is constantly coughing and growing thinner each day, began to yell. i never hear him yell. he is a peaceful sick soul, who usually doesn't raise his voice. "ah! nanakwame! it's too much!"

nanakwame didn't hear a word he said. he ran back over to us and started dancing. "EHHH HEE HEH MY FAMILY!!! I'DLIKETOSAY DANCE!"

we continued with our fufuo.

"Nanakwame and apeteshie have become very close." i said. i knew this would be the type of comment the family would consider funny, so i said it and they all laughed. collins repeated it in twi to nanakwame and nanakwame, like a good drunk, became very serious. "KESS! you da say i am drink?"

when sakola drinks (which he rarely does) he becomes brave and uses english words i've never heard him utter in the day. he speaks a lot more and a lot better. but when nanakwame drinks conversation begins to resemble a jigsaw puzzle, or those single word fridge magnets that are meant to be arranged into poetry, or incoherent sentences.

"you da say i been back you i'dliketosay drink the drink? NO! i no!"

a long silent moment passes as we all try to figure that one out.

"are you speaking english?" i ask.

then me and the family erupt once again in laughter.

"kess! you laughing me? you'd say i'dliketosay i go mate tro tro konongonkumasi i'dliketosay tonite?"

"what?"

"OH KESS! my english is i'dliketosay you say i go take the drink town yeahh!"

"i'm going to the clinic" i tell everyone, "thanks for dinner."

it is my nightly routine to check and see if there are any women who have began labor. the walk helps me digest the big ball of fufuo in my belly (sofie and i call them our fufuo babies and this night i was 7 months), and if i cover all my limbs and wear a hood i can sneak through the village without being recognized as an oburoni. it makes for great voyeurism.

but this night, nanakwame was intent on accompanying me.

"no no stay here" i said "i can go alone."

"KESS? you'dsay you bring clinic no go why?"

i wasn't going to try and make sense of anything coming out of his mouth. "nanakwame" i began "don't speak drunk english. it's really bad. just speak twi."

"you say is bad?"

"when you are drunk, yes. it's really bad. i'm going to the clinic, you should eat your dinner."

"NO KESS!" he screamed in a funny voice "NO! wait me. wait me."

then he scarfed down a bowl of fufuo came over to me and told me to wait just a while longer. "i am going to bathe." he said. "wait me."

"i'm leaving." i said, unsure of the truth of the statement. walking around town with him in this state could have been interesting, i knew this, so i lingered, then threatend. "okay, fine, you have 5 minutes."

5 minutes drunk time can last forever, i learned this playing hide and go seek with my once alchoholic father. then it was to my advantage. drunk time is more similar to kid time, it is easily entertained and can go on forever, until it falls flat on it's face and doesn't get up. i was not on drunk time. the longer i waited, the more i realized... i was on sober kacie time. i wanted to leave in 5 minutes, go directly to the clinic, then return. all in a timely fashion. i wasn't in the mood for an inebriated stroll.

"c'mon nanakwame, you have 2 more minutes!"

he hadn't even fetched his bucket of water. "wait me i'm bath water cold i come kess!"

madame yelled at him to hurry or i'd leave. my sudden punctuality, and everyone supporting it, was humorous. "1 minute!" i screamed.

the moon was plump, spilling it's light everywhere. i notice the stages of the moon more in a electricity-less village. i know the times i need to bring a lantern out to the latrine, and the times when i'll be able to see from the natural light of the night.

this night was the type of night i had to turn my head. nanakwame was bathing 5 feet from the porch, which isn't anything new. typically his black naked body blends in with the stark black surroundings, and i stare out in his direction, while we talk and he scrubs.

but not now.

i fell back and looked up at the stars. i talked to sakola and told him about my dreams. 1 week of nightmares, again. i played hand clapping games with his little sister. i drank some water.

nanakwame ran over and grabbed a towel from the clothesline above my head. then he put on some clothes.

"ready?" i said.

"lez go." he said.

his cold bath seemed to sober him up a bit, enough for the walk to be relatively uneventful. we walked arm in arm the entire way, me supporting us through the slipping and sliding in the thick red mud. further on down the road, closer to the clinic, and after a heavy hard rain, the ground begins to resemble quicksand. we had a lot of fun once we reached that point, laughing and nearly falling over or sinking deep every 2 feet.

on the walk back home, after an unsuccesful attempt of dancing at the town bar (nanakwame got in a shoving match before we entered) we chatted a bit, mostly none of it making sense, while he (unaware) shone his flashlight in oncoming people's faces.

a small boy, maybe 7 years old, had been walking behind us for quite some time. i hadn't paid him much attention until he said in a nice firm voice "NanaKwame your english is broken. if you want to speak it you should speak it correctly. come to my house and i'll give you lessons." then he veered off down a path into his hut.

i wasn't aware there was a child nearby who spoke so well. nanakwame was shamed into confession.

"i'dliketosay i drink apeteshie kess, i drink too much!"

"i know, nanakwame, i know. it's pretty obvious, but thanks for admitting any way."

"ya kess ya! i'dliketosay my english is correct! is correct! ya?!"

"yes, it's correct, kind of, when you're not drunk."

"oh keesssss!" he reached down and swooped me up, swinging me around in drunken glee.

"thanks for walking me home." i said.

"awwwwwwwww kess, you're my sister! kess! is correct!"