Wild Peppers, Homemade Earrings, and a Goat

About a month ago, a family friend had given Hamida a goat to roast and serve at her wedding. They'd sent the goat off to a friend's farm, where it would serve out the remainder of it's happy quadruped life until it met it's maker shortly before the wedding. Unfortunately, the goat fell sick and died, so Mus and I- being the village dwellers that we are- were put in charge of bringing a replacement.

Mus went down the mountain to the market with our friend, Mister Yacobo. While Mus is plenty savvy at buying things and negotiating markets, he comes off to village folk as a well-educated city person, and a goat is a large ticket item, so it was important we get the best price possible. Mister Yacobo helped bargain for a price, and after helping Mus to hog-tie the goat and place it in the trunk of a hatch-back taxi, he headed off to run other errands.

Mus took his seat right in front of the goat and the taxi took off. Shortly afterwards the goat decided to voice her displeasure by shrieking. The particular type of goats most common in the south of Ghana have an uncanny voice that, at least to my ears, sounds remarkably human. When you consider that the taxi had three other passengers in it- who were total strangers to Mus- it made for an uncomfortable ride.

The goat didn't scream the entire ride, however. She would give out a short, wild scream, making everyone in the taxi jump in their seats, and then lapse into silence for several minutes, only to startle everyone again with another screech. One of the elderly gentleman who was sharing the backseat looked at the goat, then looked at Mus and shook his head, saying, “You couldn't tie up a goat like that in America. No sir. They would take you to court.”

The goat agreed by screaming again.

Finally in an effort to alleviate the situation, Mus shared his lunch of roasted plantain with the goat. It didn't quite shut her up, but it took her voice down from the screaming decibel to more of a bleating tone.

By the time they got out of the taxi, the goat was quite smitten with Mus. She placidly followed him home, which is not necessarily normal goat behavior. When he left her to come inside she started bleating piteously, so he took her to a nearby field that had other goats in it and tied her up in the shade, where she contentedly grazed her way through the afternoon. Later when we went to check on her, she trotted right up to Mus to snuggle his legs.

Tonight, when Mister Yacobo was butchering her, Mus had to look away. I don't blame him; I even mentioned to him this afternoon that the goat seemed to have developed a very dog-like affection for Mus. Mus has butchered goats and chickens before, mind you; but this little lady's displays of trust tugged at his heartstrings.

So tomorrow we head off to Accra like Wise Men from the East, bearing three gifts in celebration of Hamida's wedding:

- A bagful of wild peppers (These are the spiciest peppers here, and she loves spicy foods) >

- Homemade Earrings (designed by yours truly to give her)

- A Very Fresh Bag of Mutton