重返加納

Ｐ?。拧。粒洌铮簦澹。粒洌洌?/p>

樂(lè)在其中 譯

The old saying is that you cannot go home again.

I think one can always go home as long as one does not expect the places and people one left behind to stay the same. Things change. People change, and if one does not learn anything at all in life, one must learn early in life that change is inevitable. This is a fact and the only sure thing as we live our lives.

I have also learned that one must never live in the past. This only creates problems; therefore, to live an¹⁾authentic life one must live in the present, the here and now. One must live as if this is the last day on earth, but learn, care, and love as if life is forever. One cannot change the past, but one can always look and plan and hope for a better future. An African proverb my father taught me says it better, “Castles are only built in the future.”

For obvious reasons I found great²⁾solace in these thoughts as I prepared to go home after several years of absence from my beloved country. I found in these thoughts the will and the pattern to live away from my original home. I had learned to accept the inevitability of life as I set out for home. Finally, I was aware that ultimately there would be that day when the illusion of life would cease and the end would come even for me.

I seem to be³⁾ahead of myself. My name is not important, but what I have to say here and how these thoughts are connected and related to each other is very important. I just happened to be the storyteller as we say in my language. It is amazing how one thing always leads to another and to larger issues and finally to life and living itself.

Just before noon, the car, from⁴⁾Accra the capital to⁵⁾Suhum about fifty miles north, was stopped at a security road checkpoint on the⁶⁾outskirts of Suhum where my mother now lived. I sat in the car and just looked out of the windows; however, I was very angry with myself and those who had stopped me. A⁷⁾potbellied soldier with scars on his cheeks walked up and asked the driver to open the⁸⁾trunk of the car. I told myself that I should resist getting angry. I now realized that I had been so out of touch with the reality of what was currently happening in my native country and all of Africa. Still I could not believe that this was my beloved native country I was actually visiting at this moment in time.

My mind flashed back to KuKuhill Estates, my beloved home on the hill at⁹⁾OSU in Ghana. I thought about my favorite time when I was growing up—especially the noonday when lunch was prepared for Daddy by my mother and served by the servants. The kitchen was a separate building all by itself and was the center of all household activities. Oh, how I loved watching my mother create, as if by magic, one of her extraordinary and delicious meals...

I could not believe it. I had to wake up. Kukuhill was no more it had become a medical center. I was¹⁰⁾choked with tears. It had taken me a bone-rattling three hours to drive from Accra to Suhum. There was an element of¹¹⁾poignancy to the journey and an uncertainty that I could not explain to myself.

In spite of the way I was feeling, I was still¹²⁾stunned by the beauty of my beloved country. I was amazed at how little the land itself had changed. The trees on the plains and forests weighed down with ripe mangoes, bananas,¹³⁾papayas, black berries, coconuts,¹⁴⁾guavas, and¹⁵⁾cashew nuts. At the¹⁶⁾makeshift stands along the route north from Accra to Suhum, street¹⁷⁾vendors¹⁸⁾spilled out into the highway with people touching and¹⁹⁾jostling at each other. This was always how it had been. I suddenly decided to take charge of our current situation and responded to the order of the security guard to open the trunk of the car.

I got out of the car and said to the security guard in²⁰⁾Pidgin English, “My friend, how you dey?” This meant, “How are you my friend?” He replied in a friendly manner, “I dey like I don dey.” This meant “So- so.” “You master, you be good friend.” He meant, “You are a good friend, Sir.” I continued, “I be in a hurry. I dey go see my mama, I no see for plenty years.” As I spoke, I raised my ten fingers. He responded, now smiling, “Yes sah, yes sah, yes sah, master. You go tell Mama I say her son den come home safe.” What he was trying to say was, “Go sir, go and tell your mother her son is home now.” Up to now my visit was clearly not a pleasant nor an enjoyable one for me. Perhaps he made it bearable just for a few minutes.

When I stepped into the half-sunken room that doubled as a shop for my mother, it led me straight into the courtyard. I was met and greeted by a²¹⁾portly and elderly²²⁾tenant of my mother who ran the²³⁾palm wine bar next door. He took my hand and led me to his palm wine bar. The bar was really a²⁴⁾rickety²⁵⁾verandah in front of a large room²⁶⁾stacked with bottles and over the verandah hung a sign that read, “Palm Wine Bar.”

Back at the airport, I was silent and²⁷⁾somber as I waited for my return flight to the United States. The spiritual food I came to find in all its abundance had left most of my hunger untouched or²⁸⁾unabated. Like much of what had passed my lips, the trip had been sweet and sour, rich and bitter. I realized that you can never go home again and I realized that when I returned to the United States I would have a lot of unpacking. Not only would I have to physically unpack my belong-ings, but I will also have a lot of mental and spiritual unpacking to do.

古話說(shuō)：人不可能重返家園?？晌矣X(jué)

得，一個(gè)人只要不期待他離棄的人和物一成不變的話，他就可以重返家園。事情總是在發(fā)生變化，人也在發(fā)生變化，一個(gè)人如果一輩子什么也沒(méi)學(xué)到的話，他一定要在人生早期明白一點(diǎn)：變化是不可避免的。這是事實(shí)，在我們的生活中，這是惟一可以確信的事。

此外，我還明白，人不能活在過(guò)去。因?yàn)槟菢幼鰰?huì)產(chǎn)生很多問(wèn)題。因此，如果你想真實(shí)地活著，就必須活在現(xiàn)在，此時(shí)此刻。人必須把今天當(dāng)成自己最后一天來(lái)過(guò)，但又要在學(xué)習(xí)、關(guān)心和愛(ài)他人時(shí)把生命視為永恒。人無(wú)法改變過(guò)去，但人總可以尋找、計(jì)劃以及期待一個(gè)更美好的未來(lái)。我父親教我的一句非洲諺語(yǔ)說(shuō)得好：“城堡只建在未來(lái)。”

在遠(yuǎn)離我摯愛(ài)的祖國(guó)數(shù)年準(zhǔn)備重返家園時(shí)，這些道理讓我感到很安慰，那是出于很明顯的原因——在這些道理當(dāng)中，我找到了自己旅居異鄉(xiāng)的決心與方式。當(dāng)我動(dòng)身回家時(shí)，我已經(jīng)學(xué)會(huì)了接受生活中一些事情的不可避免性。最后，我明白了生活的幻想終究會(huì)有一天終止，生命的盡頭也終究有一天到來(lái)。

看來(lái)我是說(shuō)過(guò)頭了，不知所云。我的名字并不重要，重要的是我在這里要說(shuō)的關(guān)于這些道理怎么連在一起，以及它們相互之間的關(guān)系。用我的話說(shuō)，我只不過(guò)是一個(gè)講故事的人。神奇的是一件事總會(huì)引出另一件事，再引出更大的問(wèn)題，并最終扯出生命和生活本身。

我開(kāi)車(chē)從首都阿克拉到其北部五十英里的蘇霍姆城。快到中午的時(shí)候，在蘇霍姆郊外的一個(gè)安檢關(guān)卡，汽車(chē)被攔住了。我母親現(xiàn)在住在蘇霍姆城里。我坐在車(chē)?yán)?，從?chē)窗往外看，然而我對(duì)自己以及那些攔下汽車(chē)的人很生氣。一名大腹便便，臉上有疤的士兵走過(guò)來(lái)，讓司機(jī)打開(kāi)行李箱。我告誡自己要忍住不發(fā)火，我意識(shí)到自己已經(jīng)對(duì)自己的祖國(guó)以及整個(gè)非洲的現(xiàn)狀都不了解了。我仍然無(wú)法相信此時(shí)我正身處的這個(gè)地方，就是自己摯愛(ài)的祖國(guó)。

我的心思回到庫(kù)庫(kù)山莊園，那是我親愛(ài)的家，在俄亥俄州立大學(xué)加納分校里的山上。我想起成長(zhǎng)時(shí)的一段最珍愛(ài)的時(shí)光，特別是在中午的時(shí)候，我母親給父親準(zhǔn)備好了午餐，由仆人端上。那時(shí)廚房是在獨(dú)立的一幢樓里，那是家里一切活動(dòng)的中心。啊，當(dāng)時(shí)我很喜歡看我母親像變魔術(shù)般準(zhǔn)備著不同尋常、極其美味的拿手好菜……

我無(wú)法相信眼前這一切，我必須醒過(guò)來(lái)。庫(kù)庫(kù)山莊園已經(jīng)不存在了，它已變成了一個(gè)醫(yī)療中心。我哽咽著。從阿克拉到蘇霍姆三個(gè)小時(shí)的路程把我顛得渾身骨頭都快散了，這次返家之旅給了我很大的感觸以及難以名狀的不確定感。

盡管我當(dāng)時(shí)很難受，但我摯愛(ài)的祖國(guó)的美麗景色還是讓我深深地震撼。這片土地變化不大，這一點(diǎn)讓我感到吃驚。平原上和森林里的樹(shù)果實(shí)累累，掛滿了芒果、香蕉、木瓜、黑莓、椰子、番石榴和腰果。從阿克拉往北到蘇霍姆的路上，小販從沿路的臨時(shí)檔口擁到高速公路上，人們擁擠熙攘——這里一直以來(lái)就是這樣。突然間，我決定要控制眼前的局面，回應(yīng)士兵要我們打開(kāi)行李箱的要求。

我下了車(chē)，用洋涇浜英語(yǔ)對(duì)士兵說(shuō)：“我的朋友，今天你怎么樣？”這是“我的朋友，你好嗎？”的意思。他友好地答道：“今天我差不多?！蹦鞘钦f(shuō)：“一般般?！薄澳阆壬闶莻€(gè)好朋友。”那是“先生，你是一個(gè)好朋友”的意思。我繼續(xù)說(shuō)道：“我是在趕時(shí)間，今天我去看媽媽?zhuān)芏嗄隂](méi)見(jiàn)了?！蔽疫呎f(shuō)邊舉起十個(gè)指頭。他笑著答道：“好的，好的，先生，你告訴媽媽我說(shuō)她兒子安全回家了?！彼胝f(shuō)的是，“走吧先生，回去告訴你媽媽她的兒子回家了?！钡侥菚r(shí)為止，我的返家之旅很明顯不是一次愉快抑或很盡情享受的旅行，或者有那么一會(huì)兒，他讓我覺(jué)得好受些。

那間半截埋在地下的屋子既是我母親的居所，也是她的店。我踏入屋子，徑直走到院子里。我碰見(jiàn)了我母親的一個(gè)胖胖的老租戶(hù)，他向我打招呼。他在隔壁經(jīng)營(yíng)一家棕櫚酒酒吧。他拉著我的手，把我?guī)У剿木瓢?。那個(gè)酒吧其實(shí)是大房間前面的一個(gè)搖搖晃晃的門(mén)廊而已，房間里堆放著酒瓶，門(mén)廊上方掛著一個(gè)牌子，上面寫(xiě)著：“棕櫚酒酒吧”。

回到機(jī)場(chǎng)，等著返回美國(guó)的航班，我沉默著，悶悶不樂(lè)。我來(lái)這里找尋的精神食糧很豐富，但卻遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)未能滿足我，我的饑餓感并未削減。就像大多從我嘴里經(jīng)過(guò)的東西一樣，這次返家之旅甜酸參半，苦樂(lè)參半。我意識(shí)到人真的不能重返家園，等我回到美國(guó)后，我必須卸下行李。我不僅僅得給我的物品行李拆包，而且我還得卸下許多精神包袱。