so much excitement over a little pot of burnt wood?

I am one of those rare commodities, obscure creations, exceptions to the rule, a GIRL, who likes CRICKET. Not to play, I don’t think I’ve ever held a cricket bat in my life, and feel sure that I would hold it the wrong way round anyway (at least I know there’s a wrong way round), not to mention probably getting knocked out by the first red leather ball that came my way, but to watch! And it’s not just the men in whites (or men out of whites).

I don’t even pretend to know that much about it, but I love the myriad of factors that contribute to winning or losing. I love the fact there’s always something else to think about, I love the strategy element of the game, I love the fact it takes five days and they break for tea and lunch. I love the relaxed and rambling commentary and I love the memories it evokes of long summers with dad gardening with the radio on, dropping everything and running inside when a wicket fell, to catch the replay on the TV.

Even in the UK I have very few people to share and feed my enthusiasm, most of my friends find it dull, boring, and complicated. Since I have been here I have tried to explain cricket to Ghanaians, Americans, French, Dutch… all of them end up looking more confused than when I started.

So here I am, on day 1 of the Ashes, that biggest of sporting rivalries, with the rain slating down from a grey sky, in an ex-British colony, frequently wondering why Ghana did not pick up cricket like India did, and wishing it had done. Even the Brits I work with do not seem overly bothered, and I think if I said the word ‘Ashes’ to a Ghanaian they’d think I was talking about bush fires. So I am sitting behind my computer, wishing I was in the sun at home, pretending to work, sneakily following Ben Dirs and his BBC text commentary, with butterflies in my belly… and hoping 21-1 already isn’t the start of something horrible...

al's got the grumps.

I have moved to Accra, and as some close friends (actually anyone who asks me ‘how is Accra?’ and waits for an answer) know, I have decided that it’s horrible and I don’t want to be here. Cue sitting all day yesterday in my pants fiddling round on the internet, trying to beat monsters on my DS, watching TV and generally feeling sorry for myself.

I have decided that my flat looks ‘tired’, it smells because no-ones lived in it for a while, I don’t know anyone, Accra has too many expats, I’ve got too much stuff, I’ve not got enough work clothes, I don’t want to stay in, I don’t want to go out, I’m not enthused by the work I’ve been assigned, food is too expensive, I miss home, I'm grumpy with my boyfriend for going home this week, I miss Kumasi, I miss friends there... basically anything and everything, I manage to find fault with. This mood is reminiscent of a mood I had travelling with friends in Riga, also known as the ‘Riga bunk bed mood’... when I didn’t want the top bunk, didn’t want the bottom, didn’t want to go for a walk, didn’t want to be left while they went for a walk, didn’t want crisps, didn’t want chocolate. And I’m sure my mother knows this mood all too well... sorry ma!

Anyway so through some encouragement of some friends who quite rightly said if I was going to sit feeling sorry for myself then I was going to feel bad about being here, I got up and went to find the car that has been assigned to me for a few weeks. We no longer get drivers in Accra, and so I have to confront the potential of breaking down in the middle of Ghana, or indeed just getting lost in the middle of Accra. Easy to do.

Still in a foul mood, I headed off to the Accra Mall... a western-style out of town shopping centre which, if you have just come down from Kumasi, is a bit of a shock, even if you know what to expect! I did a food shop in ‘Shoprite’... after Kumasi, I didn’t really know where to start! I got bread and vacuum-packed meat and yoghurt and cheese and banana cake and Flora! Flora! I then wandered round the mall, had a mocha in a little coffee shop (which serves bacon butties!), went to get a ‘what’s on’ list from the cinema, and then spent a good half hour browsing the bookshop! It was like walking into Borders or WHSmith! Needless to say, getting out and thinking about things other than my disgruntlement cheered me up no end.

In my flicking through the TV this morning, I came across Hillsong TV, and the pastor was preaching about every day being special, and how we should rejoice in every day, because, as it says in Psalm 118:24, ‘This is the day the Lord has made’. I think it really sowed a seed and got me thinking. I did not rejoice in yesterday, I failed to find any good in it; I wasted a God given day wallowing in my self-pity! So today, I rejoice in the day; in my friends, in the sun, and in toast and mum's home-made marmalade for breakfast!!

facebook...

Instead of updating my facebook status every fifteen minutes, I have decided to accumulate all status-related thoughts I had in one day in one simple list... yes I need to get out more...

Alison wants someone to go on holiday with

Alison wonders if every white person in the world is born on a Sunday, what white midwives do for the rest of the week

Alison wants a ‘magic leaf’ in her pocket

Alison is a bit disturbed that half of Kumasi seem to know her name

Alison is looking for a small boy with a long tape

Alison is no one’s wife

Alison wonders why Ghana gets spoilt when it rains

Alison is wondering why out of 16 channels three so often show the same thing

Alison thinks CNN is a bit backward

Alison thinks Ghanaian onions have the strongest smell in the world

Alison just found some indescribable goo in the middle of one of her onions

Alison likes chatting to friends from home

Alison didn’t know you could burn lentils

Alison still needs to pack

Alison thinks burnt lentils just adds to the flavour

Alison still wants someone to go on holiday with

Alison didn’t pack.