Seeing The Future
Do you believe in fortune telling?
I’m a skeptic, I must admit, made worse by my recent experience in Tamale. During our trip to Northern Ghana we visited diviners, in my case an old man living in a small house in a rural village. As we sat outside, the cats chased a baby chick and a goat wandered past us. Inside, my non-English speaking diviner told me many things via the amused translator sat next to me; only one which bothered me.
My star is dead.
I have no idea what that means exactly, except that if I want to revive it apparently I need to pay money to the church. Given that he told me I had upset a fat-cheeked friend by not telling them I was coming to Ghana (step forward if you feel this is you, because I have no idea who he is referring to), my dad works in metal and will be given a job soon (he’s retired), and that I’ll work in the police or military (I hate camping and I can’t keep a secret so the latter is a definite no), I don’t hold too much stock in what he said.
Later my darling friend Anabel, infinitely talented in the art of palm reading and also the best wing woman I have ever met, offered me insight into my future. According to her mystic powers, I will live to be 100 (that’s on my bucket list), will have a career that requires empathy (also a desire of my mine), I’ll have one child (hello Albert or Cecelia), and that my venus girdle is bumpy so my love life will have one big bump to get over (I like to think I’m good at reconciling arguments so that’s okay). This particular preview of my future made me far happier, and we clinked glasses in celebration.
Do I believe any of it?
It certainly won’t affect how I approach anything differently, bar a few dramatic exclamations at the loss of my star (I still don’t know what it means, but it can’t be good). Nonetheless it was fun, a frivolous look into a future that may well never be.
Ultimately what is coming is unknown. I have been looking nervously ahead, uncomfortably aware of the lone year I have left in my undergraduate degree. The world post-university is a vast unknown, and I confess to whispering to my money – that’s how we communicated, diviner and I – a question related to career prospects. I had been secretly hoping that this man would reassure me of a guaranteed job after graduation, hopefully one with a reasonable salary in a desired location. If only the universe worked like that. Instead I am facing the future armed with the confidence given to me by a good friend, who may or may not be making it all up for my benefit, and one piece of career-related knowledge: I will never, ever work in the police or military.