Post #63 – Women’s Memoir Writing, ScrapMoir – Matilda Butler and Kendra Bonnett
Memoir Writing Contest Award-Winning Story
Kendra and I are pleased to publish the second winner of our First Place, Grand Prize Award. [Two stories were so excellent that they tied.] We are posting Janet Grace Riehl’s memoir story exactly two years after she celebrated her 60th birthday by returning to Ghana. Happy Birthday Janet.
We invite your comments below and hope Janet’s vignette will encourage you to think about the kind of elder you want to become. We have posted a link to the other First Place, Grand Prize winner at the bottom of this blog.
Passage into Elderhood: Happy 60th Birthday
By Janet Grace Riehl
In the months before my 60th birthday, I wasn’t so sure about moving into my next decade. I wasn’t sure at all. To steady myself I travelled back to one of the locations marked on the map of my heart: Ghana. It’d been over three decades since I’d set foot on West African soil—long overdue. Good choice. Every place my feet touched the ground in Ghana old and new friends greeted me and took good care of me. They eased my passage into Elderhood. What kind of old woman did I want to be? The kind of old woman I hoped I was becoming.
Busua Beach, the start of my almost-mythic swim
My birthday celebration began a week before the official date. I unintentionally gave myself a surprise present I never could have dreamed of. My hosts at the African Rainbow Resort in Busua Beach were friends of friends. “I’m going for a swim,” I told them and set off. My three-mile swim to Nana Abokwae Island just sort of crept up on me. I dipped my toe into the ocean, plunged in, saw the island, and thought: “I could make that!” Of course, this is how people drown. With God’s Grace I didn’t, though at times it was a near thing.
Afterwards, my six-hour foolhardy feat became a heroic—almost mythic—story. “Do you know what that crazy 60-year-old white woman did? She swam on her own to the island and back!” My hosts were relieved I came back safely. They didn’t have to send out a canoe search party to find me, and they didn’t have to tell my friends and family I was no longer for this world. The marathon swim affirmed my belief in my life at whatever age. I knew I’d be okay as an Elder. I brought back songs of the sea and homecoming. Afterwards I stayed inside for days while my skin peeled from sunburn and new skin emerged.
Then came the official date—December 29th—with the official celebration. If you have a birthday in the United States between Christmas and New Year’s Day, you might as well forget about it. This year, though, other people celebrated with me. I was flooded with text messages, cards, flowers, a day outing, and a birthday party on the hotel rooftop. This year the tide turned for me. Plunging into my 60s began to seem like a good thing instead of the end of the line.
On December 29th I awoke to read two text messages from my new friend Grace: “Happy birthday mum. May u live long to fulfill all the good purposes God has planned for u on this earth.” The second one said, “Have u eva experienced joy dat made u cry? Miracle dat kept u speechless? Success beyond ur imagination? Expect dem cos dat’s my prayer for you.”
Outside Safari Lodge: Comfort McClaren, Janet Riehl, and Rod McClaren. (Nana is Rod
I slipped into a new skirt that hugged my rather ample curves. The birds printed on the fabric flew upwards. Downstairs, a group of friends wished me “Happy birthday,” and Isaac sang to me. Comfort gathered fresh flowers from her garden, and handed me the fragrant bouquet.
I’d proposed a birthday outing to Butri by boat for Nana and Comfort’s family—a romantic idea. I’d taken a taxi there, and gone on foot over the hill. I thought it might be fun to go there a third time over the ocean. Instead my hosts Comfort and Nana organized a roving party of four to set off in their Land Cruiser. I told them to surprise me, and they did. As owners of The African Rainbow Resort they had friends who owned other resorts: Safari Lodge, Green Turtle, and Ceta.
My host, Comfort, co-owner of African Rainbow Resort
At the elegant Safari Lodge we ate a sumptuous breakfast on the veranda where a group of Akwasi’s friends spotted us, and whisked us over to their guest chalet with its soaring beams and thatched roof. Then we waved good-bye and walked down the beach to the Green Turtle Resort.
The Safari Lodge built their bar stick for stick in imitation of the Green Turtle’s. The Green Turtle folks fumed at this breach of etiquette. In return, Green Turtle built a bar made from a huge boat…one that couldn’t be copied. In contrast to the upscale Safari Lodge, the Green Turtle Resort is a backpacker’s paradise crammed with campers traveling in heavy duty safari vehicles. Tom took us on a tour of his resort—even the cassava field where we found a pig inside its pen.
Akwasi met us with the car at the Green Turtle, and we set off to Ceta—a gorgeous vacation rental house by the sea. Ceta is like something out of Architectural Digest. James rents it to rich people. Because they don’t like the restrictions water scarcity imposes, the staff must hustle invisibly to provide enough water for their whims.
Back home we were filled with the beauty of our outing, and parted for the afternoon rest. Two of my closest Ghanaian friends who live in the capitol of Accra called to wish me well on my birthday. After supper nothing else seemed to be happening, so I retired to my room where I wrapped myself in Ghanaian cloth. I’d offered to host a party at the African Rainbow, but Nana and Sewaa told me, “It’s your birthday. We’ve got you covered.” But did they? I wondered. Ah. A few hours later Nana appeared at the door dressed in one of his best Ghanaian outfits. “Your presence is requested on the roof.” I jumped into one of my Ghanaian dresses and scampered up to the roof.
As I arrived, Sewaa called out, “Island Girl!” That turned out to be the theme of the party that night. We were not only celebrating my 60th birthday, but my now-heroic swim. Mr. Bill, a professional singer, serenaded me.
My birthday cake was the biggest round cake I’ve seen in my life. Its decorations told the story of my island adventure. On the cake two palm trees sprung up from the island just as they do in real life. Around the island frosted waves lapped; fish jumped out of the ocean. And there I was—swimming towards the island.
We feasted on cake, stories and conversation. Towards midnight Sewaa and I sat alone in the moonlight continuing to share stories. The cycle of birth and destruction in world myths and our lives. Traveling companions from times gone by. What should I do about the two made-to-order robes? A pal back in the States wanted me to bring one back for her. But I loved both robes, and they loved me. Sewaa said, “Keep both: you’ve earned them.”
Reluctantly, like a child after a party, I went to bed. I didn’t want the day to end. But, a day like that never ends. Birthdays will come and go for the rest of my life. I don’t expect another one like my 60th. But, let the love shine down. Let the love shine out. Let me keep growing into the kind of old woman I’d like to be.
Kellewelle, a recipe from Ghana for spiced, deep-fried plantains
INGREDIENTS
4-6 ripe plantains or bananas. Peel and cut into cubes
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper or red pepper
½ teaspoon fresh ginger
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoon water
Palm oil or vegetable oil for frying
DIRECTIONS
Prep Time: 15 minutes
Total Time: 30 minutes
Grind together grated ginger root, pepper, and salt. Mix with water.
Toss plantain cubes and spice mixture together
Heat oil in deep skillet.
Fry plantains, turning once, until golden brown on both sides. Plantain cubes should not touch each other while frying.
Drain on paper towels. Keep warm until all the plantains are fried.
Serve kelewele immediately.
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NOTE: You’ll probably enjoy the way Janet describes herself as much as we do. On her website: http://RiehlLife.com she writes: JANET GRACE RIEHL calls herself a country girl who roamed the world, then followed her heart back home. Visit her website for intriguing articles.
PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED HOLIDAY MEMOIRS WRITING CONTEST WINNERS:
Heather Summerhayes Cariou, The Sweet Ghost of Christmas Past
