My brother Donal spent last summer working in Bolivia. He told me of how the Bolivians started their day early, and of how on one particular morning when his body battery had not been fully recharged, a rooster began to crow. And crow and crow and crow. Crazed with sleep depravation and tense with frustration he got out of his bed at five in the morning to go and shout at the rooster to tell him to stop. On recounting the story to me he acknowledged how stupid this sounded in hindsight.

I experienced that moment yesterday morning. The rooster at our house has been annoyingly alert all the time, beginning usually at about 4.30am, but it was not until yesterday that I realised that I actually hate him. Rather than get up and try to berate a rooster, I was more minded to remove its head from its neck with my host brother's machete. Just as I was about to spring from my bed I remembered Donal's story and rolled over to chew on my pillow.

The Ghanaian day begins early and ends early, with our village being a hive of activity from 5am onwards. Conversely, most people are in bed before 8pm. The reason is necessity - there is no electricity for the most part so I would like to see you spend a fun packed evening in complete darkness. No music, no TV, no lights. As a result of the early nights, however, I must suffer at 5 in the morning the sweeping, the babies crying, the food being cooked, the churchgoers singing, and of course, the f*cking rooster.

Another of my brothers, Oisin, spent last summer in Japan. I am sure when I return we can share a few interesting stories about 'culture shock' but it was his enthusiasm for the Japanese food that most fascinated me and which springs to mind now when I sample the Ghanaian dishes. There is a lot of plaintain. Red red, for example, is fried plaintain (which tastes like banana) with a mixture of beans, palm oil and garee. They like spice here. Kenke, FuFu and Banku are all sticky doughy substances which are pounded and mixed with sauces and fish. While I have had no stomach problems thus far, I am beginning to get fed up with rice and some of the more bland meals. Pizza would be amazing. Yam is no spud. Ah, spuds. Creamy with butter and salt. Now that would be the bizzo.

Michael, another of my brothers, is a musician in Edinburgh and I cannot help but think that he would be proud of me for the fact that I am now playing gigs in Ghana. There is a Scottish volunteer who brought her fiddle with her and is fantastic at Irish traditional music. I have borrowed a guitar from some Canadian volunteers who are travelling around Ghana at the minute and we were jamming in Kwamoso last Thursday afternoon. We are hoping to have another practice (we have three polkas and three jigs to get down) and then we are going to get Mama's really going on Wednesday evening.

Also on Wednesday night myself and a Kiwi volunteer who is on the building project with me are going to present Mama with a sign for her spot bar. We bought a nice piece of timber after work on Friday and are going to paint it today. I am going to make sure there is a little shamrock on the side of the sign and that the lettering is green!
Last night a crowd of us went to Kwamoso which is by far the most basic of all the places volunteers are staying. It is very hard to get to, has no paths or roads, just dirt, has no running water or electricity and has no real shops of any description. It is a fantastic place. The pace of life is so laid back and the scenery is beautiful. We asked the owner of a small spot bar, Klub 29, to show the Ghana v Ivory Coast match in the African Cup of Nations and they organised to get a generator in so we had a TV and lights.

There were probably about thirty Ghanaians watching the match. The air was thick with tension as a number of them were aggressively arguing amongst each other in Twi. I learned from speaking with a few of them that some wanted the Ivory Coast to win in order to sabotage the Serbian manager of Ghana, whilst others were telling them to sit down and shut up. There has been a lot of controversy over team selection for this tournament in Ghana, with Inter Milan's Sulley Muntari (formerly of Portsmouth) being left out of the squad for disciplinary reasons and players such as Essien and John Paintsil missing through injury (although Essien made an appearance but was not his brilliant self). And I thought that the discussions over Roy Keane in Saipan or Thierry 'cheat' Henry were heated. A fight broke out in the spot bar in the middle of the second half. It was a bizarre scene. A little bit of pee came out into my pants.

Some of the members of the Ghana team which won the U20 world cup last year were included but this was not to stem the forceful tide of the Ivorians. Gervinho opened the scoring. The second came soon after. Who else but Drogba made it 3-0. The Ghanaians did get a consolation goal from a sympathy penalty that was clearly not a penalty. 3-1. Now Ghana must beat Burkina Faso on Tuesday to stand any chance of qualifying for the next round.

Getting home from Kwamoso after the match was a challenge. We stood by the side of the road in complete darkness waiting for someone to drive past. Eventually a utility van pulled over and we were able to hitch a lift to the nearest town, Mamfe (about 30 mins drive). The family squeezed in and one of the sons jumped into the open-top back to let us get in the front cab. Not one of them spoke a word of English. We hurtled along the road at 15 mph only stopping once to bribe a policeman. Totally overcrowded, wearing no seat belts, all the cops wanted was a 'tax'. "No problem officer". Once we got to Mamfe, we convinced a line taxi to take us to Akropong (a 15 minute drive) for the extortionate price of 4 Cedis (£2)- usually it is 50 pesawas (25p). Then we walked home in darkness to Abiriw.

Walking in the African darkness is an experience which unfortunately I cannot describe for you.