Theme: SAFETY MEASURE

Diary Entry 10.05.2021

OMG, the pensioner brain.

It discerns itself with unimportant stuff.

It worries itself with irrelevant bollocks.

Too much time on their hands.

It shows how someone has lived their life so far.

As a pensioner, life could be immensely enlightened.

If you choose to.

You have all the time in the world to clarify your thought, meditate, grow.

But instead that time is wasted (looks like it anyway) with amplified worry.

Horrible.

No wonder the body shuts down.

I’m heading to Accra by myself and my dad gave me this big lecture last night.

None of it made sense.

He repeated himself over and over again.

About the same stuff, same pieces of information.

Like a mantra.

You take the small bus.

Oh, no the big bus.

No, the small bus which is faster.

Hold on, no, the big bus which is safer.

Oh, but because you are in the big bus for longer, you have to wear the face mask for longer.

Definitely take the small bus.

But that one races like crazy …

OMG, dad.

When will your head explode?

So your priority for taking the crazy, crammed people carrier with no air con and no leg space is because of the least time you have to wear a face mask?

Get off at Tutu bus stop which is closer to your destination.

Yes, definitely get off at Tutu, can you remember that?

You’re not taking notes.

Yes Tutu.

And then a taxi.

Yes, dad I will take an Uber.

Do you have their phone number?

Yes, dad, the app.

Get off at Tutu, not Kaneshi which is the last stop.

Yes, Tutu.

Remember that.

Mom: “The bus doesn’t stop at Tutu, only at Kaneshi”

Jeeezzzz.

And then a lecture about meeting guys.

And a lecture of doing what I’m told because people know better.

And several unrelated lectures.

It was painful.

Dad, if any of your advice was actually helpful, I’ll gladly take it.

But this is bullshit soup.

So I smiled and nodded, looking like an obedient daughter, but inside I was screaming.

God, how do daughters cope here?

This is my idea of parent hell.

And yes, I get where it’s coming from, but ffs!

Do you need a soap bag?

No, mom I’m good.

I’m just taking the towel.

The soap bag manages to find its way into my room.

I’ve been here too long.

I’ve overstated maximum experience point.

Now everything gets contracted.

Annoying and right.

This is an excellent lesson.

Not to overstay.

To get out at the height of the experience.

That’s the key.

Energies are still high, the gum still tastes delicious.

The longer you chew, the less it tastes.

Get out while it’s still fresh.

Tasty.

Onto the next flavour.

Don’t wait for the stale taste.

It will become so much harder energy wise to make the next jump in a flow from there.

Note to self: Never ever stay longer than a month. You will start tasting stale too.

Keep it fresh and mint sparkly.

I’m off.

To new adventures.

On the small bus to Accra.

Ha, my dad almost sent me off with some dudes in a car.

They looked dodgy as fuck.

Dad contemplated.

For a split second.

I felt it.

Lol, but I walked in and he followed.

And then there was a small bus with air-conditioning and one last place to fill.

That was mine.

5 Ghana extra for luggage? Really? Fine.

Whatever.

If money wasn’t an option, I wouldn’t mind paying.

Because it still is for me at the moment, I feel cheated.

Need to change my perception.

The road is dusty.

The light new.

It’s 6.30am.

Already busy.

In a haze.

This time of the morning is beautiful.

Everyone in the bus is either sleeping or on the phone.

Radio playing what must be Ghanaian retro tunes.

Rock FM.

Some people are humming.

At least it’s not religious radio.

There is a minibus in front saying

UB40 Back for good

No, mate, that’s Take That.

And the driver seems sane.

I think it might be a good thing to always have a fiver in my pocket instead of taking my whole purse out.

I forgot to take water.

But then I don’t want to have to pee.

I don’t presume adequate sanitary facilities on this trip.

So I’m eating one of mum’s dry scones.

To soak up anything.

Just before Cape Coast we hit the ocean.

It’s beautiful.

What you expect of the tropics.

A few beach bars under construction.

I like it here.

It feels tidy.

After Cape Coast it becomes hilly.

And the earth is glittery.

Accra is traffic.

And so busy.

And I’m waiting in the sun for my Uber.

A water girl drops one of the pouches.

I make her aware of it but she just looks at me and walks away.

There was my water.

I love how I am provided for.

Had an amazing conversation with my driver about economics.

He wants to go to Europe.

I told him the hussle doesn’t really work there.

He will probably end up being an Uber driver.

With rain.

Funny how challenges are the same but different.

Everywhere.

I don’t need to look because I already know what it looks like

Shooting a video weird angle. One guy playing Mortal Combat and one editing on his laptop at a desk. Reddish light.

Then playing video backwards with the joint smoke coming back to the mouth. Background calming low fi music.

Genius.

Kopfkissenschweißaufsaugfeder.

Could be a job.

Primakundenservice.

Also.

There is a theme of colours around me at the moment black red yellow (German flag) plus white.

Yesterday, on Sunday, it followed me around.

This is a fun pattern surprise.

Thank you.

Is the white a blank space?

Is that where nature will have to settle in? The green?

Will it, once I’ve been in Ghana nature?

Or is that too predictable?

I think it is.

Would be cool to add a different colour …

I want to travel into nature.

There is a big trending hashtag on Twitter

#fixingGhana

#fixingthecountry

The people are looking toward the leaders to lead.

But do leaders lead?

If they did, do the people follow?

It is impossible to lead when people don’t follow …

Maybe the current politicians are leading but nobody follows.

Because everyone hates rules.

How do you lead without rules?

By example?

Is that enough?

How about if the people lead by example.

In today’s tech world there is no excuse for being ignorant.

Everyone who has a smartphone has access to free education.

Ghana plastic recycling is happening.

What about the hashtag #Ghanafixed highlighting all the things that work and are good instead of complaining and focussing about things which don’t work.

Fix yourself first.

If everyone fixed themselves, they would be fixed and won’t look towards somebody else to fix them because politicians won’t exist.

If everyone made only one step … any shape or size footstep … towards what they would liked to see improved in the current situation, NOW, in unison, Ghana would be fixed.

Instantly.

Well almost.

In the time it takes to make one step.

I’m so inspired here.

Having loads of ideas about music and visuals.

We are co-creating.

And having discussions.

About the state of affairs in Ghana.

He is a warrior.

With a big mouth.

But also a lover.

We are communicating.

Intensely and intimately.

I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Time to leave for a little while.

And come back.