Diarrhoea, thankfully, has
nothing to do with this blog (except verbal… right, funny), but whilst my
bowels stay constant and true to me, the rest of life seems to have gone
slightly crazy. Now I don’t think that all change is bad and not all things
here are changing (indeed, the lunches at work have followed the same weekly
pattern since I first arrived) but I can definitely say that things will never
be the same again.
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| (Some things will never change) |
One major network of roots for
the Tree of Change has been Christmas, running through the pavement of my life
and causing little folds that I trip up on if I’m not careful (this image comes
from our ‘carpark’ at the Hospice where soil erosion has turned the roots of
one tree into a miniature system of terracing). On Saturday morning, I waved
goodbye to several lovely people including Tiff, Ali, Ben and Ruth who have
headed home for Christmas. Their departure significantly affects the odds of
Christmas weight-gain and it was quite sad to see them go.
Still, the remaining crew have
still got plenty planned that will infuse life with Christmas cheer.
Excitingly, we’ve got Christmas pudding (our thanks to Steve and Lorraine
Thomas) AND brandy sauce! It looks like
we’re set for a Christmas BBQ in the evening where it is rumoured there will be
sprouts which seems a serious achievement (and a bbq-ing conundrum).
Unfortunately, our turkey is already dead (as of last Monday) and now partially
eaten (as of yesterday)… whoops. With the goat conspiring to be pregnant, and
the turkey forcing the hand that wielded the knife it looks like it’s gonna be
chicken for lunch.
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| I am that cute |
Christmassy feelings are now
appropriately strong. The Christmas trees at home and friends’ houses have
helped (as have some of the ones in shops in town but lots of them just look
amazingly miserable), as did present giving at our Christmas/leaving party on
Friday and also another exciting gift from home, but in honesty it’s the
overload of carols on Friday and Saturday evening that’s made the big
difference. You’ll be pleased to know I’m now singing and whistling carols at
passers-by.
Unfortunately, the week has also
conspired to throw up some unseasonable problems that now jar with the festive
cheer. These range from people refusing to give us the drugs that we ordered in
Kampala and have to collect before Christmas Eve, through Vincent continuing to
bodge up bank things (it’s a good thing we’re not paying him by the hour) onto a
rather large problem with staffing for the village clinic come January.
Needless to say, I think having a five-week holiday is probably a better way to
do Christmas.
On Wednesday I went to renew my
visa again. Given the fact that I had inadvertently ended up bribing the senior
immigration officer last time I did this, I went in with a gently militant
mood. I went in, told the guy how long I wanted my visa to be extended by and
he stamped it. He then asked me for “something for Christmas”. Now, I’m no
expert on bribery, but I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to ask for the money before giving the person what they want
(I think I learnt that from Friends). Anyway, rather than advise him on this, I
got a little bit carried away berating him for abusing his position and acting
in a “bad” way (that’s right, I went there!).
Inspired to fight for justice
(and my money), I decided I might try to get my original money back.
Unfortunately, the Senior Officer wasn’t in and I ended up spending ten minutes
alternating between continuing to berate the guy for being ‘bad’ and even and trying to extricate the number of his
boss. After I got the number I thought it would be simple enough to find him
and then convince him to give me my money back (or at least a receipt so the
government got it instead of his wallet). However, like in a film, he’s so far
inadvertently foiled my attempts by being generally disorganised and forgetful
(you could say he’s dundering). Even better (from an external perspective),
he’s unconsciously fighting back. He phoned me at 7:47
on Saturday morning (which was early considering we had a wild party followed
by Settlers the night before) to tell me he’d be back from Kampala
I hope you have a wonderful
Christmas!
Lots of love
Paul
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