Full moon
Friday, beginning of February 2007, tonight, will be the first full moon that I witness consciously in this new year. I couldn’t escape it Wednesday night, my first night back in Tamale, this dusty provincial town, when the night approached, and the receding daylight allowed the majesty of the moon to be seen. Without looking for the moon specifically, I was drawn towards it, big and milky white, rising slowly above the Harmattan wind, that has swept up sand and dust from the desertous arid lands in this part of West Africa, and transported it over thousands of miles, heating it up during its travels, causing sneezing, dry throats, and an ever-present layer of red powder on clothes, faces, motorbike and taxi seats, plaguing the residents of these lands.

I wish I were as sensitive to the presence and the cycles of the moon at all times. It had escaped me when encircled by the hustle and bustle of Accra, with its non-stop traffic and built up surroundings, I suspect I never even looked up at the African night sky all those nights I was there. She catches my eye every now and then while coming home late from the office in the hague, walking between the tram stop and my home, past the old oak trees in front of my house, just before I slip into my door and leave the outside world behind me for another night.
Here however the moon caught me and didn’t release me for a while. Seeing her close to full but not entirely, I investigated when she would be full, or if that was a moment that belongs to history already. Tonight, Friday, February 2nd. 2007 she will be full and white and beautiful.

I want to experience the full moon more consciously, more deeply. I wish I were born into a society in which ritual plays a larger role. A moment in which with full awareness and appreciation, you set to pay homage – to a relationship, to spirit, to a longing, to thankfulness. To invest time in planning, preparing, getting excited, getting anxious, executing, and remembering ritual. There are so many events, influences, beings and objects of nature, people – some still with us and some departed for other cycles, that I would want to connect with through ritual. Yet, having been born into a part of the world and a time in our collective evolution in which ritual as an everyday part of life is a thing of the past, I avoid bringing it up, for fear of not knowing what to do,

and for fear of ridicule.

Instead I resort to planting seeds in my dear ones’ mind, being far away and sowing my longing via text messages, at safe distance from having to directly experience ridicule.

The day after tomorrow, Friday, the moon will be full.
Shall we agree to meet here, in Tamale,
And sleep in the warm outdoors,
To hold each other,
And stare at the moon and the stars all night?
Perhaps to make love in the moonlight,
And pay homage to the mysticism of the moon goddess?
Our own ritual of love, imbibed by the strength of her power,
Oh what beauty I would find therein.