Honor Killings, The Rooster Edition

I'm on a roll, folks!  Next Sunday, we're visiting Boti Falls so I'm getting a jump on the blogging.  Try not to overindulge.  

It’s difficult to explain, but somehow, you get used to seeing people wielding machetes.  Dawn to sunset, machetes all around!  How else does one hack plantains, bananas, and the like from a tree whilst in Africa?  I have no other ideas.  I will say though, the first time I saw a man with a machete, it scared the crap out of me.

But things are different here.  It’s normal to kill your dinner.  I tried to block this thought until my “maame” (fantastic home stay mother) brought about the hilarious image of her slaughtering a chicken to defend my honor.  I was sitting outside, eating my dinner as per usual, and a jerky chicken came by and knocked over my bowl of (ahem) chicken.  Without flinching, maame looks at me and says, “I kill him and make for you.”  I’m pretty sure I had that little jerk in my jalof (rice dish) last night.  He was a little tough, but revenge tasted sweet.

For those of you who think I’m being gross or extreme, my apologies.  I’ve become desensitized as a result of the horrific noises that come from the animals all around me.  It’s mainly the roosters.  And the goats. 

The lizards are chill and, quite honestly, the hens don’t really bother me much.  Crickets?  Chirp away!  But the roosters!  And the goats!  These animals make each noise like it will be their last.  Oh well, at least the baby goats are friggin cute.  (see below)

This will be a nice time to segway into what I learned about Ghanaian funerals a few days ago, but all of the sentences I’ve managed to scrawl out have been, well, a bit morbid.  So let’s just say I’d like to share some interesting information that I learned about Ghanaian burial customs.  Our language instructor always sends us home with questions to ask our families and they always lead to some interesting tidbits.

When you bury a chief in most villages, you cannot speak of his death for weeks!  If you do, there are severe penalties.  I heard death, but with the declining influence of the chief and his elders to carry out sentences, I’m pretty sure this is no longer true.  He is also buried inside of his house.  Brings new meaning to the phrase “home is where the heart is.”  Anyone?  Anyone?  No?  OK.

Internet time is a runnin’ low -- I must bid farewell.  I’ll do my best to update weekly (except next week), but unlikely to have any more internet access than that.  Training is getting intense and we have little free time. 

And since you were wondering, I don’t really NEED anything, but WANTS are a poppin’ up.  Coffee ground for a French press, baby wipes, chocolate (in some less melty form) and Cliff bars would be great.  It’s only been a couple of weeks though and I’m adjusting nicely.  Not required to keep reading my blog…


Talk to you all in a couple weeks!