Am Pang

Each evening after football training hundreds of birds the size of crows fly overhead. In turns out in fact that these creatures are actually bats or ‘Am pang’ as they are called in Twi- the local dialect. More importantly still the boys tell told me that they eat them in the bush eat them. Apparently they taste like chicken which seems to be the default flavour of all things unusual. My appetite whetted I set off into the market armed with the words ‘Am pang’ and my best impression of a bat. After a couple of fruitless trips I struck gold. I had myself two of an old lady’s Am Pangs safely in my rucksack.

Back at the village the lady in the hut next door after about half an hour of hysterical laughter agreed to make me a traditional bat stew. Funnily enough as the dish came near to completion the boys started to become steadily less keen to partake. Once I started to tuck in I realised why. These bats didn’t taste like any chicken I have ever had. Unless the chicken had been dipped in tarmac and sprinkled with the contents of a Lambert and Butler cigarette.

News has travelled around the village that the Obrewni loves Am Pang and soon I had a visit from a boy who has offered to catch me a snake for 25p. I said I had to ‘see it with my eye’ to check it is good snake meat before any deal is made.

Eat your heart out Philip Tracy

Rain stops play

The inaugural Jo Lee dance off competition kicks off

The carrying of the chiefs

At the invitation of the Konko chief we took a trip into the mountains of Akrepong to celebrate the Ashanti tribes annual festival culminating in 'The carrying of the chiefs'. Although I don't think Rio needs to worry too much about the competition a thoroughly good time was had by all- depending on your respective chief's weight.

More Konko catwalk

Spidaman's little bro has his own look going on.


Going classic Africa for Church


The super hero look is massive here

Chief Mowing Grass

Over the past couple of days I have been thrust into Konko’s political epicentre. The mower has become a big deal and everyone wants to use it. The problem is, I am told by Rastaman, that the vast majority of the village are not fully versed in the rudiments of mowing, maintenance of a combustion engine and the associated dangers of a rotating blade. If given out willy-nilly five year old kids would be trying to cut their hair with it and drinking the petrol and so forth.
We have a problem, we all want the mower to help as much in the community but we also want it and people’s health maintained. After much deliberations involving the elders and chief a solution was put on the table. Rastaman would have full use of the mower to cut the football pitch. While if any other party would wish to use it, there must go through Bosay (an elder within the village) who would assess their claim. Their knowledge of mowing and an inspection of the terrain would be the main criteria to be judged.
This seems a reasonable solution, until the next morning when Rastaman spliced one of his fingers in half after putting his hand in the mower. It seems he was no better versed.

Hey that’s one of my dance moves!

That guy at the back needs to get some of his own moves and stop stealing mine.

Medasi Bakul and James

A big Ghanaian thank you goes out to Bakul for sorting out all the Nike kit. This was by no means an easy feat as I tried myself to no avail for months. Equal props go out to James as well for his generation donation that allowed me to buy 15 pairs of boots as well. Your kind deeds will be rewarded in heaven or the Indian or Buddhist equivalent - you can choose.
Equipment like this just doesn't exist over here and not one of the kids who have actually ever had anything new before. So it was quite humbling experience to see them open the box and try them on. They are so valuable that they are not allowed to even take them home and have to return them safely to our hut after training.

Reggae Nights

Things are moving relatively quickly in dusty Konko. We had to take a trip into the capital Accra to hunt for a mower and pick up our Nike packages from customs. There are no Lakesides or Bluewaters out here and it was exhausting to say the least. But at the last minute everything slipped into place and we were able to leave triumphant. We even managed to fit in a reggae party on the beach in the evening. Rastaman has informed me November 2nd is the Coronation of the Holy Emperor Haile Sellassie and the I and I and himself are set for much celebrations as Ghana's rasta's descend on the capital. The party offered the perfect time to brush up on my bogling.

Snake Charmer United

These U8's have turned up and said they want to start a team. They are as wild as they come. They sleep outside in the bush some nights and have six packs like Peter Andre in his pomp. I asked one of the adults what these lads do for fun otherwise, to which he replied 'some like to go and catch live snakes.' I am not sure entirely if there are any transferrable skills to football.
Perhaps they could apply for it to be included as an Olympic sport for 2012. I would definitely watch it over softball.

The ginger Lawrence Llewelyn-Bowen

Up till now the nearest I have ever got to DIY is that my mother gets her haircut by the same person as Lawrence Llewelyn-Bowen. However all that changed this week when I did a deal with the school headmaster. I promised to finance and single handedly paint the entire school over the next two months on the condition that he introduces wine tasting into the curricullum for all those over five years old and erects a bust of my likeness over the front door. Plus change the name to 'King Max Kennedy school.' I took a shake of the hand as an explicit 'yes' to all.
I can now see why Mr Miyagi was such a fan of painting as it's pretty hard work. Only five more classrooms to go..
Once I can find a mower that's not made by 'Handa' or 'Yamama' and can do the lawn, Konko is going to be perfectly primed for it's first village fete. I wonder if Ghana has a branch of the WI.

Saved by the bamboo work

The mighty village of Sanfo came down to the Theatre of Dreams to take on our Kenko boys. A goal down in the first we pulled level late in the second half. It is customary to award at least three penalties a game to keep the crowd happy and provide fuel for the also customary post match arguments. Eager not to disappoint the referee quickly pointed to the spot three times in our favour. We missed the first two, but in the last minute there was a chance to snatch victory and for one boy to become a hero. Up steps Mac.....