Is it a bird? Is it a plane??

By popular demand, it's NPP-Man!

He went missing from my street for a few weeks (I thought the worst but apparently he was spruiking elsewhere) but he's back. And better than ever with big Elton John glasses!

Some context: There is an election on 7 December - for all 230 parliamentary seats as well as for the president.

By all accounts, there are two parties in the running. The National Democratic Congress is currently in power and the New Patriotic Party (of which NPP-Man is a colourful supporter) is the main opposition.

Embracing my inner twitch

When my shipment arrived, one of the first things I uncovered was a field guide to the birds of West Africa - a farewell gift from friends who clearly want me to use my spare time for good rather than evil.

So now I have my Second Piece of Furniture - a foldaway orange chair for the balcony - I have started a morning ritual of getting acquainted with the feathered community.

I will admit that I have a lot to learn about ornithology. And I'm sure the experts don't make up names for the birds they can't identify. But my goodness it's fun to sit with a cup of tea and watch what's flapping around the apartment.

My first positive sighting was a Senegal Coucal - there are group of them that warble to each other on the neighbour's roof.

This morning I saw a couple of Village Weavers (Richmond colours, but sweet nevertheless), a heap of Warblers Of Some Description (I think they were Garden Warblers and not just because they were in the garden), a Speedy Turquoise Jetbird (way too quick for me) and some Flitty Greenbacks (in my defence, they camouflaged themselves very well in this palm)(Can you see them? Exactly).

Paul, George - how am I doing so far?

'Free delivery'

Interestingly, 'free delivery' doesn't actually mean 'free' or in fact 'delivery'.

This is my First Piece of Furniture - a mattress bought from deep within the bowels of a shipping container painted canary yellow off a side road in the middle of just about nowhere.

Very excited to get it home (to stop the echoes), I asked about delivery. In response, my vendor friend hailed the next station wagon taxi and lashed it to the roof with two bits of bailing twine.

I sat in the passenger seat holding on to my side of the mattress and praying for clear traffic and no rain.

And I had to pay for the taxi.

Drumroll please....

I've moved into my apartment!!

Things I love about it:

1. The view from the kitchen window is of banana trees and the neighbour's backyard which is full of chilli plants, dogs and kids. Actually, the view from all the windows is pretty good (sorry about the photobombing detergent bottle).

2. All my stuff is here. Not much else yet - I like to call it uncluttered.

3. I rent it from someone whose first name is Wonderful.

4. It has a pool.

5. It's quiet and leafy, with birds in the morning and bats in the evening. Out of the busy area, but walking distance to most of what you need. Including the market garden across the road.

Spots, chops and dashes

I was told by a taxi driver yesterday that Australians don't really speak British English. At this stage he thought I was American. Then he told me Americans speak English better than the Brits. I suppose this was a compliment? I changed the subject.

On the subject of language, a couple of important local terms. Spots are places to go for a drink. They're usually outdoors with maybe a few plastic chairs and tables, and the drink is usually beer.

A chop bar is where you might go for local food - this ranges from an indoor sit-down affair to a wooden bench at the side of the road.

Dash is like a tip. Taxi drivers usually want dash. The ladies I buy my fruit from often dash me an extra banana.

This is Crossroads (more intersecting dirt roads than Ry Cooder) - my local spot, just down from the hotel. The service is glacially paced, but the beer's cold, they have live music every week and it's always packed with locals.

5 things about Official Functions

1. Ensure you have a trustworthy friend in the office to remind you to change out of your Birkinstocks into your pretty shoes.

2. One does not swig from a water bottle while at the 'high table'; one sips demurely from a glass.

3. When talking to the media, don't have a long name (like van Wensveen), or you may be quoted as 'Madam Monica' (or in some cases, 'Madam Minica' - I'm adopting it as my stage name).

4. Reading glasses are handy for reading speaking notes.

5. This, people, is a 'lapel'. It's found on suit jackets. That blingy thing is my lapel pin - pretty cool!

Lounge lizard

How handsome is this guy?

He has a matching yellow stripe on his tail and a slightly startling habit of performing violent push-ups when disturbed.

The girls aren't as colourful and spend most of their time scuttling away from the males.

I think they're a bit startled by the push-ups too.

La - a note to follow sew

Work is a pleasant stroll from my hotel - past the the onion sellers (apparently it's onion season), over the broken bridge to the fire station, past the machete-wielding coconut seller and the political enthusiast in party pyjamas who sells flags, past the man doing a tidy trade fixing tyres on the shady side of the road and finally past the cane furniture sellers. Behind them are Mr Daniel and Mr Charles who have a huge market garden and don't mind a chat about vegies.

A few days ago, I was walking behind this very mobile tailor - with a sewing machine on his shoulder, swishing scissors alerting potential customers (and surely, a song in his heart).

You want to go where??

As many of you know, I am hopeless with street names. So you can imagine how excited I am to tell you that although Accra's roads have names, landmarks are more commonly used to navigate.

So if you're heading for the hotel I'm staying at, don't tell the taxi driver that it's in 15th Lane or 16th Street, tell them it's near ChickNLickn. The even better thing about this is that this delightfully named eatery doesn't even exist any more - just the signs painted on a wall.

This is such an evolved society.

Akwaaba!

Akwaaba is the first thing you see as you arrive in Accra - it's all over the walls of the airport. Welcome, in akan - one of the many local languages of Ghana.

It's also the only local word I know so far except for cedi (which is the local currency)(pronounced seedy)(it also means cowrie shell, which I expect was the original currency).

So awkaaba to Africa! And akwaaba back to the blog which has been so shamefully neglected in the last few years.