More new experiences…

Is it really 3 weeks ago that I wrote that last post? I still have no appointment with the specialist. This leaves me wondering how seriously I should be taking what the doctors have told me so far. Just under three weeks ago, I was told not to leave the surgery for an hour so that my blood pressure could be checked as it had been scarily high (”Go and sit as quietly as you can in the waiting room for an hour - yes, we realise that you have three small children with you and it’s their lunchtime; no, you may not go and buy them lunch, that wouldn’t be sitting quietly.”). My blood pressure came down in that time (that is amazing, isn’t it!), so they let me go. And no word from the surgery or the hospital since. Presumably their logic is that if my blood pressure can stabilise when I’m trapped in a waiting room under such circumstances, then nothing is going to send it back into the danger zone! I think that logic may be flawed…

Oh well. Thank you, the NHS. I’ve never had cause to complain before, to be fair. Although, come to think of it, our paths have not frequently crossed in the past! I’m sure things will get going soon. Once I have a specialist, at least I’ll have someone to nag!

So… to the news. M phoned yesterday and told me what might be about to happen to the president. My parents already knew about it because they keep themselves informed, but I don’t read the papers enough! I had no idea that this was in the air. M on the other hand, along with everyone he works with, has known it’s been on its way for some time.

It made me think, how strange it is to live somewhere on account of one’s husband’s work. He learns huge amounts about the place through his work, spending his work time talking it through with others who are equally knowledgeable. I spend all my time with expats, except for a few shop assistants and some mothers at my children’s school. It’s incredible that two people living in the same house can have such different levels of knowledge of the country in which they live! Occasionally, really significant bits of information like this one come up and are passed on - and I’m blown away! Sometimes, especially in this summer back in the UK, I’ve been asked, “So what’s the situation like there now?” And I suppose the honest answer is, “You’ve probably got better access to the BBC than I have, so I expect you know better than I do.”

I do know that the people I meet are surprisingly welcoming and tolerant, given the violence happening not far away.

Anyway, expat families are likely to be getting out and staying out for a while. Which casts more uncertainty over our movements for the next couple of months. It also sounds like more bleak times for people with little cause for hope.

 

Baseless

Uh-oh.  My health is looking likely to take over my life again.  It’s all connected to last time, when I was pregnant with G and had high blood pressure problems.  I had loads of tests and lots of monitoring.  It wasn’t anything major, one or two visits to hospital or the doctors’ every fortnight (apart from the memorable week where I was at the doctors’ or hospital every day), but after five months I found it wearing and frustrating.

The doctor has now discovered something through a blood test which may be connected.  There are a few conditions or syndromes that I might have - now I’m going to see a specialist and have lots and lots of tests done to find out exactly which syndrome.  It doesn’t seem to be anything immediately threatening; I don’t want to worry any of my readers!

Anyway, that wasn’t what I was thinking of at all when I wrote the title above.  I had to get a prescription made out today, but realised that I don’t have my certificate that entitles me to free prescriptions with me.  I’m staying in three different homes this summer (with some exceptionally kind, patient and accommodating people who’ve agreed to put us up and put up with us), but I’m leaving a trail of belongings with me as I go!

And I felt the disadvantage of having no permanent base this morning.  I have managed to reacquire a GP (having signed myself off my old one when we moved because there was such a pressure for places there), who is down the road from the base where all our post is delivered.  [Hard writing an anonymous blog sometimes - get into a very convoluted sentence and not sure how to get to the end and if it'll make sense when read later by someone else!]  In the same town as our UK postal address: that’s another way of saying it!  I could only get on her books by saying I’d be around for at least six months.  Well, I suppose it is true - that’ll be my postal address for a while yet and I’ll be back again at Christmas to prove my continued residence!

Anyway, this morning I phoned the out-of-hours doctor service, only to be told, “Sorry, we can’t take any information from you as you aren’t calling from a phone in our area.”  Who else has this sort of thing to contend with?  Well, no-one I know, because how many people don’t live at their permanent address?  Fortunately I’m staying fairly close, so I bundled the children in the car, drove to Base 2 and phoned from there…  Fortunate too that someone was at home to let me into what I call my “home”!

I’m not meaning a word against the people who actually do live there permanently, who are kind enough to sort through our post and let us stay for long chunks of the summer.  I’m also not complaining about moving around while I’m here.  I’m very grateful to be put up and it gives us plenty of opportunity to see people.  It is a strange effect of this new lifestyle, though.

Well, I got the prescription, so all’s well that ends well.  And now nothing till Monday, when I return to the GP and find a bit more about what’s going to happen next.

 

Since last summer…

I was only away for nine months, but since returning I have noticed a few changes…

Petrol prices are now enormous!  They hadn’t broken through the pound barrier when I left.  Now they’ve left it well behind!

Re-usable shopping bags are much more visible than they were this time last year, I’m sure.  Fantastic!  Except I’ve not yet got into the habit of taking one with me (or at least, I do, but it’s already full of nappies, snacks and miscellaneous child-junk).

Christians around me seem to be interested in finding out about Islam.  (It’s been a current issue for a while now, we were bound to catch on sooner or later…)  This is very useful for me:  I may have lived in a Muslim area but I’ve had very little contact with Muslims and learnt very little about their religion - just what is observable at a distance: when Ramadan is, which is the busiest mosque on a Friday and so on.

And there’s one more I thought of earlier and have now forgotten.  So I’ll have to add it here when I remember it!

 

On another continent…

M’s travel plans have had to change as a result of the recent disaster in our home city, which has made the news here in the UK.  (The disaster, I mean, not the change in his travel plans!)  He was stuck in the airport, along with a few planeloads of other people, for six hours before they cancelled his flight and he returned home to start looking into what to do next.  Of course, reworking travel arrangements wasn’t really what he wanted to spend today doing…

He tells me the weather has been bad recently.  Strong dusty winds (a haboob) and rain at the same time the other day, apparently.  Glad not to be there myself.  As you may already have gathered, I’m enjoying the weather here whether it’s warm and sunny or dull and drizzly.  The smell of the flowers after the rain today was heady…  I’m picturing my African home as it is in the winter (similar to the warm and sunny days here) - and thinking quite fondly of the place…

 

New posts!

In case it wasn’t clear from my last post (which was briefer than my usual style, I’ll admit!), I’m back home for the summer.  Actually, I’ve been thinking about this: is my home over there now?  Or is this more familiar country, home to so many of my friends and family, still home despite my absence?  My conclusion is that both countries are now home.  So then, I’m back home for the summer, but in August I return to my African home…

It’s wonderful catching up with family and friends.  And I love the small, simple things, like driving with the window open, feeling the cool air coming into the car, as I was today.  And such variety of food!  And people who understand me, no matter how convoluted the sentence I’ve just finished!  (Well, there’s a greater chance of that here, at least…)

Oh, and the constant availability of the Internet is something I’m only now, after three weeks here, starting to take advantage of.  And during this evening’s surfing, I discovered two posts from January that never made it onto the blogsite!  I’ve published them now, but since you’re unlikely to discover them by accident, I’ll tell you that they’re dated January 30th and 31st.  If you’re still interested.  You don’t have to be. 

 

Changes

I can’t believe you have hot water on tap in this country!  And drinking water, too!

 

Last days

Well, the day after I wrote was slightly scary for a little while, so shall I tell you about it?  Ok…

Got a message late morning that school was closing early and I needed to pick E up.  There was fighting in two or three different areas, so they’d made that decision.  The message actually came through to me via my cleaner’s phone as people had been trying all sorts of ways to get through to me while I was oblivious that my phone was in the car (Oops.  Very embarrassing to admit that.).  So, all in a fluster, I drove to pick up R (someone else had already picked up E – oops again) and went to join E at a friend’s house.  Decided to stay at friend’s house since she is very kind and also a yummy mummy type who always has enough food in to feed a flock of small children for two or three days just in case some turn up.  If there’s going to be a curfew of unspecified duration, best to be in a place like that, don’t you think?

But G was still at home with Lily.  So I left E and R safely with Yummy Mummy and – didn’t get further than the gate of her house.  Horn blaring in the street.  YM’s cleaner at the gate, has opened it a fraction and is watching.

“Can I go out, please?”

“Wait.”

She watches.  I watch, too, peering over the wall through the shards of glass that are cemented into the wall and the barbed wire above.  After a minute, she deems it safe and lets me through.  Willing myself to relax and telling myself disparagingly that no-one’s going to be interested in our part of town, I get into the car and drive the five minutes home.

It was much busier on the road than normally at that time of day.  All the expats, at least, must’ve been heading home.  I saw a pick-up with a man riding on the back carrying a gun.  Two cars took me by surprise, rounding a corner at speed.  I also saw a truck full of bricks, driving to some building site near our home.  People were out and about, walking, shopping.  There was enough normality around to make me feel silly for feeling nervous, enough that was unusual to keep me feeling jittery until I got back with G and had all my children together with me.  (M had been unable to return the day before and was still trying to make his way back.)

Anyway, the afternoon was the usual round of looking after children and chatting.  There was no curfew, but none of us felt we wanted to go out.  M phoned a few times and each time it seemed more promising that he would be coming home – and then, just before the children’s bedtime, he arrived.

And then, for us at least, everything was back to normal again.

 

Minor irritations

This morning the curfew was extended till 10am (having been moved from that to 6am last night!) and then extended indefinitely.  The airport is closed, so M’s flight has been cancelled.  The phones haven’t been working perfectly, although texts are getting through more reliably than last night, so it’s been easier to keep informed.

So the task for today is to keep the children entertained (and tackle the washing up left over from a lot of entertaining on Friday!) and answer E’s questions about the government and when they’ll say we can leave the house again…  This is made a whole lot easier by the fact that the house is well-stocked in terms of fresh food, drinking water, electricity and nappies and also the weather is not unbearably hot today.  And the further we get through the day, the more optimistic I feel.  After all, there are only five hours left till bedtime now – and that means we’ve got through eight hours already!

 

Update

So the rebel troops have arrived and we are under curfew.  I was taken aback by the speed of events.

For a couple of hours this evening, the mobile networks were jammed with people calling each other to make sure everyone knew about the curfew and was home safely.  I couldn’t get onto the internet to see how it was being reported internationally, but information gradually came through.  We live, as you may know, in one of three cities, separated by the two Niles.  The bridges have been closed, containing fighting in the one city, some distance from our house.  We know people who live closer to that side of town who are hearing shelling tonight, but here it is quiet.

It is very quiet in the house, with M away and no sounds from outside.  During the night, of course, things that are innocuous by day can take on a different light…  Well, there’s nothing I can do… except move my mind on for now – onto infinitely more mundane problems at home.  Such as the fact that the schools are going to be closed tomorrow and we cannot leave the house, until 10am, we hear currently.  I think we will use the time to start packing!  It’s under a week till we leave now.  That’s going to keep me thinking positively as I deal with cooped-up and disappointed children…

 

More weather fun!

Sorry for my recent silence.  I’ve been run down and exhausted – what with

-          looking after and cleaning up after little G when he had gastroenteritis so bad he was close to needing a drip

-          worrying about finding the right nanny for the children for next year – it’s proving more complicated than I was expecting and is not sorted out yet

-          trying to decide if R should go to the nursery class in E’s school next year or stay in the nursery she’s in at the moment.  The decision has yet to be made

-          coping with the hot weather and a sudden complete lack of things to do in the afternoons, combined with a few national holidays (schools are closed, nobody works except M and a few hundred like him) where suddenly the entire day needs filling

-          arguing with E, who is limit-testing in a big way at the moment.  It has been horrible – the points above being some reasons why I’ve not been dealing well with her – but I’ve made a few changes and now when she kicks up a fuss I can keep calm and deal with the situation effectively

Anyway, that brings you up to date, so enough of that.  I know you’re dying to hear about the weather here – and this month has provided plenty of excitement for a weather-watcher like me.  Up till recently, the weather’s just been hot, getting hotter, but then the duststorms started.  Sometimes you can see the big yellow cloud rolling towards you – and then you run for home or get coated with the dust.  It’s a messy business.  Don’t look at your windowsills or around your front door (inside or out) - and the drifts of dust currently outside our gate have to be seen to be believed…  Before it got too hot at 7am to be outside, we were having breakfast on the veranda – and when I came to take the highchair inside at about 10 o’clock, it would look as though it had been left there by a previous generation!

It is lovely, however, getting outside just as a storm is ending.  Early evening, the dust has settled again, but there is still a bit of wind – and you can feel cool!  Without AC!  Wonderful.

Doesn’t last long, of course.  Yesterday it was 46 degrees as we came back from the pool.  That’s Celsius, folks.  Someone told me it was 52 degrees last week.  I wish I’d seen proof.  Would’ve liked to know what that feels like.  It’s not too bad, given it’s escapable.  House to car (car, parked in the sun, is horrendous to get into till the AC kicks in) to house/shop/building and back again – not too much opportunity for sustained discomfort.  I can’t imagine being without AC in the house.  I think I’d probably loll about and get nothing done.  Maybe live in the paddling pool.  Or the swimming pool.  There are a few here – some require membership, but others you can pay by the day – any expense is worth it!

Actually, I have some idea of living without AC, because we had a little while last week without electricity.  Or at least…  It was very strange.  After a rainstorm, most of the lights didn’t work, or gave only the merest hint of light.  Most ceiling fans just rotated lazily, on any setting.  ACs, the fridge, the kettle and so on didn’t work at all.  But two lights in the house were blindingly bright and two ceiling fans spun so fast on the lowest setting I was scared to walk underneath!  I suppose these are the surges people talk about when they protect their computers and so on – but I didn’t realise they could be confined to small corners of one house!

It’s only rained that once so far.  One of the girls woke in the night and when I went to their room I heard a strange noise outside, like somebody had left the tap on…  It took quite a while to realise it was actually pouring with rain!  By morning it had stopped, leaving muddy puddles on every dirt road which worry cautious drivers like me who don’t like the thought of being caught in the middle of one when it turns out to be deeper than it looks.  The puddles have receded a bit now, so the roads are passable again… but the mosquitoes aren’t being so obliging.  After two or three months bite-free, we are being afflicted again…