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Zusatztext 77498288 Informationen zum Autor Peggielene Bartels was born in Ghana in 1953 and moved to Washington, DC, in her early twenties to work at Ghana’s embassy. She became an American in 1997. In 2008, she was chosen to be king of Otuam, a Ghanaian village of 7,000 people. Eleanor Herman is the author of three books of women’s history, including The New York Times bestseller Sex with Kings . Her profile of Peggy was a cover story for The Washington Post Magazine . Klappentext The charming real-life fairy tale of an American secretary who discovers she has been chosen king of an impoverished fishing village on the west coast of Africa. King Peggy chronicles the astonishing journey of American secretary, Peggielene Bartels, who suddenly finds herself king to a town of 7,000 people on Ghana's central coast, half a world away. Upon arriving for her crowning ceremony in beautiful Otuam, she discovers the dire reality: there's no running water, no doctor, no high school, and many of the village elders are stealing the town's funds. To make matters worse, her uncle (the late king) sits in a morgue awaiting a proper funeral in the royal palace, which is in ruins. Peggy's first two years as king of Otuam unfold in a way that is stranger than fiction. In the end, a deeply traditional African town is uplifted by the ambitions of its decidedly modern female king, and Peggy is herself transformed, from an ordinary secretary to the heart and hope of her community. Excerpted from KING PEGGY: An American Secretary, Her Royal Destiny, and the Inspiring Story of How She Changed an African Village by Peggielene Bartels and Eleanor Herman Copyright © 2012 by Peggielene Bartels and Eleanor Herman. Excerpted by permission of Doubleday, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. When the council meeting ended at six, the sun was just rising and the world outside was silver. The elders returned to their fields to do some work before the day became too hot. Peggy went to her room to rest a bit and saw a line of children with heavy metal buckets of water on their heads trudging down the path from the bore hole behind the house. Some of them were headed for her kitchen. Auntie Esi stood next to Peggy as she gazed out the window. “How far do they walk?” Peggy asked. “There are only two bore holes, so the kids that live furthest away have to walk about a half hour in each direction.” “An hour for a single bucket,” Peggy said quietly. “And some kids make two or three trips before and after school. Some walk for six hours a day.” “Is the water clean at least?” Auntie Esi shrugged. “It’s not clean if you haul it from the pond. That water is a yellowish-brown, and that’s what the entire town had to use when the pipes first broke in 1977. But the local government representatives built two bore holes shortly after that which provide very clean water, though it costs money. A few pennies a bucket.” Peggy scowled. “You mean they charge for clean water?” Auntie Esi nodded. “The pumps break down a lot, so they use the money to pay for repairs.” “And the people who can’t afford the bore hole water drink the yellowish-brown water?” Auntie Esi nodded again. “They don’t get sick from it, though. For hundreds of years before the British brought piped water, people in Otuam got all their water from the pond. Many believe the goddess of the pond purifies the water and keeps them healthy.” Peggy sighed, a deep sigh that came from the soul and rumbled through her entire body. Evidently the pond contained one of the seventy-seven gods and goddesses known to protect Otuam. But even so, no American king could allow...
