Unclo Robert drops me at the doctor’s house, where I am welcomed with warm smiles. Only Itisan shows more than that. When she walks through the gate and spots me, she is grinning from ear to ear. She has troubles restraining herself from running to me and gives me a big hug. I don’t really know what to do, just stand outside at the summer hut. It is great to be back, but also a bit awkward. A group of kids hangs around in the courtyard, they seem to wait for something. I understand what they are waiting for when Sakina comes out of the house with a bowl. It is this mixture of cow milk. The kids squat down around the bowl and pitch into the food. I am also asked to join them. Fadila comes back from school and we share our spoon. All takes place in silence. When the bowl is empty, Sakina distributes small pieces of guinea fowl and thus provided, the kids soon leave the grounds. I also get my share. How should I call what I have just witnessed, meals for the poor? I don’t feel comfortable in eating what was meant for them, but as I am the guest, I cannot refuse.
The next days are spent in leisure. In the mornings, I sit in the summer hut, doing nothing. Later, I join one of the girls when they go to Sakina’s store. In the evenings, I help Fadila with the cooking. This time, without the initial reluctance, I am allowed to peel yam, stir the dough and pound dry fish or nuts. Some things changed. Leticia is not here anymore. Some say, she is a boarding student now which will hopefully make her learn more. Others say, she lives with an uncle now. I can’t find out, whether they still see her or not. And I eat alone. The doctor takes his meals in his study, Sakina eats later. Two days after my arrival, I hear that the doctor went to Accra to operate somebody of importance there. Nobody really knows when he will be back. At first, I take my dinner alone in the dining room as usual. Then, I sometimes join Fadila, Rakiya and Itisan in the kitchen or we all sit together on the floor in the dining room. It is much nicer. When we are gathered like this in the evenings, we don’t play cards anymore. Once, I try to teach Itisan how to read which turns out to be extremely difficult for her. Another evening, I help Rakiya to write a letter. She doesn’t like speaking English, even simple sentences are difficult. In the end, it is me who writes the letter for her.
I am not Siliminga anymore. Kids are the street call me Siliminga, but at the house, nobody does anymore. I am just Lisa. They used to call me Siliminga when they talked to each other, but they stopped. It is very nice.
I talk more with Fadila than the first time I was in Tamale. One evening, I have a long conversation with Manan, another man and her about Germany in comparison with Ghana. They are surprised that I talk so much. It is nothing really to wonder about. It is because usually they talk nothing but Dagbani that I can’t comment on anything. Now I am eager to correct stories they hear about Germany and believe to be true. ‘The government takes care of children until they are 15 years old, right?’ No, the government does not actually pay parents for their children. ‘Do you have to tie your hair before it becomes plenty?’ That is one of Fadila’s questions. She has some really strange ideas. ‘I didn’t know that white people can have twins. I thought only black people have twins.’ Distance and time are also topics that seem to be understood differently here. ‘My school is too far. It takes 2 or 3 hours to get there.’ Oh, I don’t believe that. That can’t be possible. ‘It is true. When we close school at 2.15 pm, I am home at 3 pm.’
Wednesday morning, it is pouring with rain. The girls and I are waiting for it to stop in the kitchen. They won’t go to school until it is over. When it rains, everything stands still. We even cook in the kitchen now instead of outside because of the unstable weather. The rain stops and the girls leave. I decide to visit EPA today. Manan brings me there. Nothing changed at the office. I greet everybody and we sit together and talk. They have more work to do at the moment and I watch them deal with applicants and paper work. In the early afternoon, I walk back to the house. It is the first time I walk back on my own. Nobody is at the house yet, so I just wait in the summer hut and enjoy the peace. I am not feeling well recently, but it doesn’t matter that much as I can rest in the mornings. When Itisan comes back from school, we write together and do exercises until Fadila starts cooking.
Sometimes, I am alone at midday and have to look for something to heat in the microwave for lunch. Sometimes, Manan comes back from wherever he was to check whether I am eating and what. I want to heat rice and beans, but the power is off. Manan comes and we decide to find something on the streets. ‘What do you want?’ - ‘Anything. Yam chips?’ - ‘You can’t eat yam chips.’ Why not? I don’t get a proper answer. Probably he thinks it is not good enough. We go and get rice and beans from a stall because that was what I planned to take. He notices when I only take a bit of rice and stew for lunch, without meat. When I come to the store in the afternoon, they want me to eat again. Fadila always gives me a corncob when she buys one for herself, even if I am really full. I saw Alex and Manan eat something interesting the other day and as they want to me eat again, I ask for exactly this, whatever it is. They are surprised but they wanted me to choose, so I did it. ‘You can’t eat that.’ - ‘Why?’ - ‘It is too spicy for you.’ I try it nevertheless and it is really good. They laugh at me for eating it. However, I don’t eat the cow skin that Fadila gave me with it. They are a little bit irritated, but this is something I really don’t want to eat. ‘It is too hard for my teeth.’ This explanation is accepted. At first I thought, I like both the Northern food and what we eat in the South of Ghana the same. Now I think, I prefer the Southern dishes. Northern food is somehow heavier. And they won’t give me anything spicy.
