So I recently had a flashback a few weeks ago of an experience I had in Haiti that scared the bajesus out of me. So about twelve years ago I went to Haiti with my mom and siblings to visit family. We went to visit my late uncle in Fompaisien with my other uncle. When we got to my late uncle’s land, the first thing I noticed was that there were goats everywhere. They even played security in front of the outhouse! Now, me being a fragile eight year old, I was thoroughly petrified that one person could own all these animals. When my bladder decided to be on its worse behavior, I had to be escorted into the outhouse with a personal bodyguard. Clearly at that point I was ready to go.
So when we finally did leave, guess who decided to join us for the long ride back to Port-Au-Prince. (If you didn’t guess a bound and gagged goat, you clearly need to start using your context clues.) So yes, we rode all the way back home with a kicking and screaming goat in the back trunk of my uncle’s station wagon.
So now you’re wondering what the hell this story has to do with me, twelve years later, in Ghana. Could you believe that over three thousand miles away, I witnessed a kidnapped cow, kicking and screaming in the back seat of a Taxi! I mean seriously? A Taxi? On the Gorge Walker Bush Motorway? And the funny part was that I was the only person shaking my head at the unfiltered Deja Vu. Then we take a trip to the country side and, you guessed it, we came back with a little goat, wailing the entire car ride.
The connection I feel to Haiti while in Ghana is sometimes surreal. But these small tokens of culture will always follow me as good memories.
Meet Billy The Ghanaian Goat