Laughter is the best medicine

Yesterday, I was feeling a bit under the weather and have been recovering all day.  Jackson and Justice, my friend Gifty’s husband and baby, have also been sick today.  After spending much of my day shut inside, I ventured out to the shop and was offered dinner of rice balls and palm nut soup.  Per usual, Gifty’s cooking was delicious. 

I spent some time answering brother Jackson’s plethora of questions about America, then I decided to take my leave…

Me: Thank you for dinner.  I am going to bed now.  (yes, I do speak like that here)

Jackson: Okay, good night.  Yours sincerely.

Gifty: You say what?

Jackson: My English teacher taught me to say ‘yours sincerely’ when the person is going to sleep.

Gifty: That is only for signing a letter! 

She then proceeds to laugh until she cries for about twenty minutes, intermittently making cracks at him in Sefwi (the local language in my village) and slapping her knee with a dish towel -- all with a baby on her back.  Her unabridged laughter created a chain reaction where I couldn’t stop laughing either.  It was a snorting, have to gasp for air, kind of laugh.

Meanwhile, Ghanaians have such a strong sense of humor and thick skin that in no way does brother Jackson seem offended by the ruckus his words have caused.  In fact, he joins in and makes a joke about his teacher being “a very old man.”

It felt good to laugh like that with Ghanaians –- feeling a bit more like home.

Yours sincerely.