I don't mind leaking, but I do hate leaking unnecessarily. Gosh it's humid tonight. The sweat is glistening on my arms as I type. I drank a fair bit, the worst part being that most of it was water. Mind you, as soon as this is posted I am off to get a second bottle of beer. I would get a Fanta, but the beer is bigger and I need a big drink. Having a little amount of available water is one thing, but a power cut as well - YOU GOTA BE KIDDING - it happened, not at any old time, but during a blogging session. All lost, start again. I tried to turn on the light. No chance, something has fused. I went to the bathroom, no chance, no light. I turned on my mobile. Not to call for help as there is no one out there to help. I used the light to find my way to the pantry. At least I was cool, and after a while I found the candle that I had clocked earlier in the week. Better still I had also clocked matches in a different location. Like the Road Sellers of Accra I am becoming observant. I went to a light switch to turn on the light in the corridor outside of my room. No chance, that wasn't working either. It would have been useful as it casts a good light onto the table in my room that has the Internet connection. How is that you must ask, you wrote that the light is in the corridor? This is Africa, some rooms don't have solid walls on all sides; as it would be too hot. My corridor has a large window, a window that is bigger than the biggest one on the front of my home back in Wales. This window like those on the outside of the house has glass slats rather than window panes. They move up and down in two sections. But they are always down and this is the cold season. On the outside of the window in the corridor like the windows on the outside of the house there is a fixed mosquito net. Between the net and the glass slats on my external window and the corridor window there are steel rods. Not like prison bars, but welded units that make 1 foot by 6 inch rectangles. You can't get through but the windows are always open.
I have been told to lock the front door with the key whenever I am in the house. At night there is a steel gate that swings across the door and is secured with two bolts. The main door opens inwards that the steel gate will prevent any forced entry. It's dark, Mr Jeff and Tamara are in Accra at a show. I didn't go as it's a comedy and in the wrong language. I heard Ruben the Caretaker earlier. I let him in, I had locked the door with my key but yet again I forgot to remove it from the lock. I needed Ruben now, as it was dark and he may know where the fuse box was. I called out, he didn't answer, but I heard him again. Some of the lights were working, but not mine. I called out yet again, I could see him in the shadows. He answered, it wasn't Ruben. Apparently Jeffers had forgot to tell me that he had another house guest. Ruben's father. He was lucky, I could have been a girl from the Northern Region. If I had been, he would have swiftly met his fate. He was lucky, I was relieved. I recognised the facial similarities and his English was good enough for me to comprehend. It's a good job that he wasn't speaking Ga. More importantly, with all of the steel bars and the key, he had to be an insider or he wouldn't have got in. He tried to fix the lights, but like me he gave up. Elias told us about insider and outsider groups, but in my short time in Africa some of that work has not been apparent. I am astonished by the way that I have been readily accepted, and humbled by the hospitality. I have also been humbled by the values that many of my new friends hold.
The beer is flowing, well it has to as I am leaking so much. The humidity, the heat from the laptop and the heat from the candle next to my arm. The sweat is getting worse, but the frogs have just started to sing. It's going to be yet another great night in Africa. I wonder if the singers will return?
I have been told to lock the front door with the key whenever I am in the house. At night there is a steel gate that swings across the door and is secured with two bolts. The main door opens inwards that the steel gate will prevent any forced entry. It's dark, Mr Jeff and Tamara are in Accra at a show. I didn't go as it's a comedy and in the wrong language. I heard Ruben the Caretaker earlier. I let him in, I had locked the door with my key but yet again I forgot to remove it from the lock. I needed Ruben now, as it was dark and he may know where the fuse box was. I called out, he didn't answer, but I heard him again. Some of the lights were working, but not mine. I called out yet again, I could see him in the shadows. He answered, it wasn't Ruben. Apparently Jeffers had forgot to tell me that he had another house guest. Ruben's father. He was lucky, I could have been a girl from the Northern Region. If I had been, he would have swiftly met his fate. He was lucky, I was relieved. I recognised the facial similarities and his English was good enough for me to comprehend. It's a good job that he wasn't speaking Ga. More importantly, with all of the steel bars and the key, he had to be an insider or he wouldn't have got in. He tried to fix the lights, but like me he gave up. Elias told us about insider and outsider groups, but in my short time in Africa some of that work has not been apparent. I am astonished by the way that I have been readily accepted, and humbled by the hospitality. I have also been humbled by the values that many of my new friends hold.
The beer is flowing, well it has to as I am leaking so much. The humidity, the heat from the laptop and the heat from the candle next to my arm. The sweat is getting worse, but the frogs have just started to sing. It's going to be yet another great night in Africa. I wonder if the singers will return?
