Nu nog even alles wat op de grond ligt in mijn slaapkamer in een koffer proppen en ik ben er klaar voor. Niet vergeten scheermesjes uit de badkamer te halen. En oordopjes in handbagage te stoppen. En paspoorten te checken. En verder wat meer lokaal gerelateerde dingen doen als teiltje onder lekkend dak zetten, een trui zoeken ergens deep down under in mijn kast om mee te nemen, m'n eigen vuvuzela kopen en etensvoorraad afsluiten voor levensgrote kakkerlakken.

Oranje oase, fasten your seatbelts as I’m on my way!

30

Turning 30 is the best thing you can possibly imagine. At least in my case. I loaded my car with girls and took off to the beach. There we met some more lovely ladies -and a few men- ate chunks of cheese and watched the sunset. No cleaning up the next morning, no puke in the bathroom, no ash in your bed. I wasn't even the tipsy running hostess on heels that I normally am at my own parties. Instead, I reached this rare euphoric stage of happiness that occurs when you have your friends around you, there are boogy boards, waves and of course Kelly's homemade apple crumble.

Cheers to the belly botton

The 19th of June is my new years' eve. I contemplate on my year, I make plans like drinking less on school days and going for runs more often and I check with myself whether I’m on the right track.

This years new year’s eve is going to be too busy for that though. Not only will there be 2 football matches to watch Saturday, I’m also going to sleep in a beach hut with a lovely group of friends (and a lot of wine). So I pre-contemplated today and made some resolutions and plans for the new year and the new decade.

First of all I started with something radical. I took out my belly button piercing. Wanted to do that for a long time, but wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this one and only tiny little teenage rebel action. But the thought of being a woman in her thirties with a Britney Spears piercing suddenly made me rip out the whole thing this morning.

The rest of the plans are all simple. I am going adapt to the African time mentality of taking it easy and not thinking too much about tomorrow, let alone next year. I do however allow myself my secret pleasure of looking at funda.nl and dreaming about my future married life with 2 kids and a rose garden. Other new year’s resolutions:

I will dye my hair as soon as I find one grey hair. I will start cleaning my face after wearing make-up (starting when I don’t live on the equator anymore, here I gave up make-up in a minute). I will go dancing more often. I will spend more on food and good wine. And most importantly, I’m going to try to keep living the life I want and not settle for less. Cheers!

Go Black Stars!

Weinig prullaria hier. Een paar tshirs en van die toeters die iedereen nu blijkt te hebben. Jammer trouwens, die toeters. Ik hou meer van meezingen en het meedoen met de wave vanuit je huiskamer/cafe of waar ik dan ook kijk. Maar alles lijkt nu platgetoeterd te worden.

Tshirt die je hier kan kopen zijn zeer curieus. Er staat meestal de naam op van de beste Ghanese speler, maar die is nu geblesseerd. Schijnt te komen omdat zijn vader boos is dat hij hem niet genoeg geld geeft. De goeierd had z’n pa wel een huis gegeven, maar dat was te weinig en nu is het algemeen bekend dat de vader de knie van zijn zoon heeft bevoodood. Dat klinkt angstaanjagend en dat is het ook. Hij kan 6 maanden niet spelen de stakker. En er schijnen echt prikpoppetjes, mensenharten en vermalen apenschedels aan te pas te komen.

Maar goed. Straks dus wedstrijd van de Black Stars onder het genot van een biertje en wat geiten kebab. Hopelijk helpt mijn eigen voodoo (duimen), want denk dat het een fantastisch feest gaat worden als ze winnen.

SATC2

‘Did you put on some weight?’, my colleague asks and she smiles. ‘I would swear you got a little bigger’. I know, I have written about this phenomenon before, but I’m still not used to the shocking bluntness. Of course by this time I know how to react appropriately. I smile back, say I love the food too much here (yeah right) and call my friends to have a strictly non-Ghanaian girls night where we all tell each other we look fabulous. And nothing else.

And this time we actually had a great occasion.

Worldwide groups of over excited women have been queuing these past two weeks to see the new Sex and the City movie. As even Accra has a movie theater (also known as ‘the cool box’, due to the airco that is always on 15 degrees) we put on our highest heels and got all in the mood to meet up with our 4 old friends. And old they were. Plastic surgery literally was in your face. We laughed and gossiped, criticized and discussed afterwards the outfits and the haircuts, the botox and the shoes. It didn’t look like any of them ‘got a little bigger’ though. But who cares about those things anyways. The movie lacked any kind of story line, but with my almost- Manolo-Blahniks from Invito and a group of fantastic, glamorous women around me; what else do you need than a cosmo?