For my gap year, I spent five months in Ghana, West Africa, teaching English. I bored En and Zed with my tales of travelling, and now it's your turn.

I taught in two schools. The first was Golden Age School in Abelempke, Accra. This was a school headed by a nasty woman named Mrs Simpson, who squandered the profits of the school on her house. However, the kids were great. It was here I discovered my true vocation as a non-teacher. However, the kids taught me games, made me Christmas cards and not hold my incompetent teaching skill against me. I was sorry to leave them.

My second school was Grace Peace Foundation in Teshie-Nungua, Accra. This was an afternoon school for children whose parents could not afford the government fees. I felt good about benefiting those less well off than myself. Also, as the kids hardly ever turned up on consecutive days, I didn't need to bother with a teaching programme.

What follows is an A to Anything guide to Ghana.

Accra The capital city. Ugly, dirty, smelly, full of beggars, horribly polluted, and lacking any sights or redeeming features. I loved it.

Heat Constant. The only time I ever felt too hot in December.

Ojobi, Wayja and Shia Villages where other people taught.

Fufu Pounded cassava or yam, made into a viscous glutinous mass and served in spicy ground nut soup. It left you reaching for a gallon of water. Make sure the water is clean or you get . . .

Diarrhoea On my first day at school they gave me tap water, and I had green shits for a week.

Imodium and ORS (Oral Rehydration Salts) The only things that kept me sane that first week.

Tro-tro The amazing form of transport known to man. Dilapidated minibuses which the length and breadth of the cities and countryside. They are always full, but always have room for more people. I was invariably crammed between huge women who had vast girths and were dripping with babies. As I am no sylph myself, it was very uncomfortable. "However, there are only three in that row. Fold down the aisle seat. That means we can get at least two more people in that row." And when someone at the back wants to get off, there is always all the fun of getting half the bus off and then having an argument as to who was sitting where. Getting back on we start again. The smell of petrol fumes wafts through the floor and your foot is being pecked by an irate chicken who is wrapped in a plastic bag. The best place is by the driver, next to the window. You have something to hold onto, you have fresh air (no vehicle in Ghana has windows) and you may get out quickly. Another feature is the mate, whose job is to collect money and shout out "Buzz ztop" (bus stop, for the halt, not the final stop). And in Accra, to shout destinations like "Ter sen" (thirty seven, a big Tro-tro station), "Cra-cra" (Accra town centre) and "Syark" (a Nkruma circle in the centre of town).

National Cultural Centre A big craft market in Accra where tourists may go and buy carved elephants for only four times the price asked elsewhere.

Dash As a noun, a gift or bribe. As a verb, to give. The phrase "dash me" when money was wanted was common.

Fit What African men are.

Money The unit of currency is the Cedi. (Pronounced CD. [I wish I could trade in CDs - Zed]) This comes from the Twi word for cowri shell which was used as currency in the Ashanti empire. Now worth about as much as a seashell, the Cedi was five thousand to the pound when I was there, and the value has since halved.

Twi (pronounced 'chwee') - not just the co-owner of swansongs but the main language of Ghana.

Words I know: