BECOMING A CHIEF, NOVEMBER 14

Day started with a long conversation with Peter and Alex over breakfast at the Four Villages Inn regarding the messages in yesterday's church sermon. I noted that Peter had been taking notes, and asked what he'd found particularly noteworthy. He said that he was interested in the pastor's comments on youth, and how they must be taught to follow the word of God from the beginning and at each step along the path so that they do not do something that "will ruin their lives." Susie talked about how in our culture we accepted that during adolescence children would need to separate themselves from their parents and experiment. It was clear that Peter did not accept this inevitability and saw it as his duty to see that children knew right from wrong and did not stray, even if it meant caning, from time to time. Peter said that he did not use caning after the kids were ten, and always took care not to injure them. I came away feeling that the combination of the word of God and the fear of having the crap beat out of them had been potent forces in the moral development of Peter's seven children (this may be unduly harsh, but it is my take on it). Very interesting discussion.

We set out on a long drive to Bonkwaso. On the road, we pass a mix of now-familiar storefront-type booths, signs combining the religious and commercial, huge stacks of watermelons or other produce for sale and the seemingly-bizarre displays of washing machines, leather chairs and sofas, TVs, large iron gates or refrigerators that appear irregularly by the roadside.

We reach Bonkwaso, which we visited last year, as well. In this village, the Kipharts have built schools, since they already had a well. Many school children wander about, and chairs are set out on a long portico. The Kipharts meet with the new chief and a weaver in the village who presents Dick with a woven warrior shirt and Susie with a wrap-around skirt. Carol, Valerie and I are presented with woven scarf-like clothing and the chief or Nana announces that I am now to be Nana Oduro Kwarteng II, his senior chief. As indication of that new office, I'm given a carved orange-wood walking stick, as well as a hug and a kiss from him.

Several rounds of handshakes ensue with people and elders of the village on the porch/patio, followed by speeches in the normal form of praise, thanks and requests for more help. Valerie again passes out lollipops to the children, we tour the classrooms and say our goodbyes, amid photographs. Carol and I give Nana I one of the challah covers, and Peter explains its significance. My fellow chief seems pleased with the gift.

Before we leave, the Kipharts inquire about the young girl, Sandra, who had broken her arm and who last time they had paid to get her to see Dr. Annie. Dr. Annie had reported that the girl had come twice, but then stopped. Peter talked to the mother of the girl and Dick gave the mother money that would allow her to take Sandra in to see Dr. Annie again. (At dinner tonight, the Kipharts alert Dr. Annie to the situation, so that she'll be on it.). This is typical of the individual, personal attention that Dick and Susie apply to what they are doing.

We drive a short distance to the village of Abasua, which a few years ago was flooded by overflow from the bordering river. Under the guidance of a chief who is one of Dick's favorites, they have made great progress.

After discussions under a tree in the courtyard, we walk to the river and then to the classsprooms. The Kipharts seem interested in rebuilding and expanding a small kindergarten built by Delores Holmes, a friend in Chicago who introduced them to Ghana, which would be used to house teachers at the school.

From there we move on to visit the midwife clinic, that had been run by the wonderful Anna the midwife, who we had met last year, and whose sudden death during the year saddened us all greatly. Peter had lost track of what was happening there, so it was with great joy that we learned that the young woman who had assisted Anna, Regina, had stayed on and wanted to become a midwife. She'd stayed with her son, 7, and daughter, 6, though that had meant leaving her husband in Kumasi.

Even more surprising was that a midwife, Vivien, who the Kipharts had met years ago, when she was working at one of Dr Addai's clinics, had moved to head this clinic some two weeks earlier. She seems terrific, with a manner that appears to be like Aana's, so this was wonderful news. Clearly, the Kipharts will help to see that the good works of the clinic continue.

We took the long drive back to the Inn, where I worked on yesterday's blog, before we went next door to the Inn for a dinner with about fifteen people, including Ida Kwarteng, who we met last year, and her two sons, Daniel, who is interested in business and who came over to our house in Evanston with the Kipharts, and Joe Jr, a medical student in his residencies. Dinner was quite good, with many of the Ghanaian men distracted by a soccer game on the television. Back to the Inn to write this blog, and then to sleep.