Its amazing how relative experiences can be. I am back in Nairobi, in Kenya, which is 3rd world. There are potholes in the roads and they flood stupidly when it rains. There is no public transport, and the power stations regularly go down leaving you without power for hours, sometimes days. But, to me, its bliss. I am back in a real house, I have a kitchen, a proper bathroom, hot water, a fireplace, a car that isn’t 4x4 (although its confusing getting used to right hand drive and left hand roads again) and shops where I can buy fresh fruit, meats, sea food etc. It’s wonderful!
The one thing that hasn’t changed though, is staff. They are everywhere! In one of my blog posts, I had a rant and stated all the things I was going to do when I get back to civilisation. On of them was walk to the bathroom naked. Now, I am staying with my mother right now (feels like a massive step backwards, but I love her to bits and she cracks me up so its ok) and since she has seen it all before I fully intended to get up in the morning and walk to the bathroom without having to stop and put something on.
We have a cleaner but she is off sick until Friday. I woke up this morning curled under a duvet (I haven’t slept under a duvet in ages! Been too hot), stretched and wandered out of my room across the hall, and into the bathroom. As I was about to close the door I heard a silence. Not the type of silence one expects in an empty house, rather the type of silence when someone abruptly stops moving so as not to be noticed. I peeked my head (only my head, I was naked as the day I was born) out the door, and there, blushing furiously and trying desperately not to be noticed, is the cleaner, come back to work early. And behind her, through the window, the gardener. I have no idea if the gardener saw anything, but the cleaner hasn’t been able to look at me since. Poor thing.
So yeah, I am back in Nairobi for a month. I have some promising temporary work coming up, and then I am shooting off on my holiday at the end of August. Things are looking up. I think I will be back some day though. I haven't got East Africa out of my blood just yet… we shall see what the future holds.
However, if you are interested in the goings on in Sudan, and the bizarreness that is Juba, I recently discovered that one of my campmates also writes a blog. Amusingly, some of her posts almost directly correlate to mine as we have had similar experiences, but as she is still there, the stories aren’t about to end… Petunia in Paradise.
I am not about to stop though. There will be more of the adventures. I also have to mention that while I was writing this, the electricity went out and I have been sitting in a house with no hot water, no electricity, no TV and its bloody cold outside. I may as well be back in Sudan, for comfort sakes! Africa wins again.