Home Sweet Home

Well here I am in my new pad, enjoying my view from my bedroom balcony.

The sunset from my living room balcony was also enjoyable last night.

(ps that is the Atlantic in the distance; as the Hamattan winds are still blowing the dust down from the deserts the air is never clear, but this will change)

Last week was rather hectic and there were a few tantrums along the way, not me I hasten to add, but within our ‘logistics’ team who were coordinating the move. Well I say coordinating but this culminated in my being stranded, alone, in an empty apartment for 5 hours when I was only meant to be ‘popping’ there on their request! I think the guilt of the team inspired an act of kindness on the Friday and they took it upon themselves to pack up my old apartment and move me while I was out the city. Thing is, they ran out of time and so by the time I returned to the office at 6.30, my life and worldly possessions were split across the city and I had no idea where I lived! I have also tried to put behind me the trauma of my underwear and other intimate possessions being manhandled by a group of big African men. Mmmm I wonder if they worked out what to do with the Wizz, never mind the……………!!!

Anyway the apartment is really lovely. OK we have to remember I am still in Africa and so its far from perfect but I didn’t realise how miserable the old place was until yesterday, when I had a hot shower for the first time in nearly 8 weeks. And at last I have unpacked my freight and been reunited with my memories from home. I admit, I have no idea why I brought 4 tape measures, but that is besides the point! And I still stand by the fact that transporting a cocktail glass to the poorest country in the world is amusing.

However this move has a bitter sweet taste. While logistics were worrying about getting 3 quotes for a mop head, my cleaner returned from work one day to find the house that she had been building had been demolished by the army and police. All her possessions went with it. It had taken her and her husband, along with his redundancy package, 6 years to construct it brick by brick. I am not sure exactly what happened, (I am getting the impression that here in Africa one will never know the true facts behind any act), but there was a legal ruling that the houses were built on land sold illegally. Problem is it appears no-one informed the residents of the 107 dwellings, of the court case, and the first they learnt of it was when the army turned up with sledge hammers and set to work. Or so I’m told.

Therefore as I sit looking at the view above, its hard to reconcile that I am living in a (relative) luxury apartment, when the woman who will scrub its floors next week has lost everything in life. Africa is far from fair and no matter how much I contributed to her fund last week, or how much food I leave for her, its going to be hard looking at her in the eye when she see’s my new ‘home’ and then returns to sleep on someones floor.

Not easy.

But despite this, I am getting signs that I am meant to be there. I entered a hall the only day which had my life in murals depicted on it. Strewed across one wall were the emblems of football teams from significant places in my life.

For starters , who in Gods holy name would expect to see ‘Bolton FC, on a wall in the third world,

 I can appreciate the Man U, and even Liverpool teams being up there ( Manchester = first job, Liverpool = OT degree), But BOLTON??? Random or what. All that was missing from the wall was a Birmingham team instead of 2 London ones (where I also lived for nearly 3 years). It was all a little bit surreal, especially the absence of other UK teams. I told the group of the coincidence and they all started clapping and some look a bit scared – Oh God, in a place where witchcraft is still considered in existence, maybe I shouldn’t be so vocal about these sort of occurrences. But BOLTON – What The Hell….??

And on the subject of Hell – driving. Yep, my favourite driver was a brave man last weekend and drove me an hour and a half out of the city away from man, beast and pot holes and let me loose. The best I can say is that I need more practice, and God love David, I think he’s quietly determined to make sure I succeed .I expect its so he can have his evenings & weekends back  and not have to skivvy me around the city looking for more Pepsi Max. I appear to have deleted the stock – but its OK, I’ve found diet Vimto now.

Well on that note, I better get ready for my lesson – we’re doing ‘traffic’ today – gulp!!

XxX