I will be the first to admit that cutting paper snowflakes probably isn’t the best use of my time right now, but I am only doing it because my American kindergarten experience failed me by not teaching me how to make origami stars instead. That and because I am too sick to do much else today.
While in Germany I saw lots of pretty origami or otherwise folded stars, and brought back a nice “easy” pattern to make one of my own, along with some nice winter blue and ice white paper perfect for such exercises. Never mind that it makes no frigging sense to make snowflakes or winter colored stars for Christmas here or that the simple pattern wasn’t that simple. My German mother gave me a few tiny ones that when I am feeling better I may just dissect in order to figure them out. But today, the whole exercise has exhausted me, as has the thought that Christmas time can be spent sweating instead of freezing.
Not sure when it happened, but am sure only that I am not surprised it happened. Somewhere along my wonderful trip to Germany my body decided that it never wanted to see or smell food again. Imagine the fun I had in the plane each time a meal was served and I couldn’t just step outside for a breath of fresh air. No one but myself to blame, but still not fun. I immediately claimed the two adjoining seats in my four seated row and tried my best to sleep through the whole thing – the woman in the fourth seat seemed to be able to sleep sitting up okay and I would hopefully never see her again, so I figured “it’s about me this time” and went for it. I was also delighted the flight was only 10 hours instead of the 12 I had expected.
This fact was more than made up for on the ground in Jo’burg, where I had to sit around for 4 hours before my connection to Gabs finally left, and nobody wanted me to take three seats to myself there, so it was pretty rotten.
In Gabs, I was presently surprised at the baggage claim by my former counterpart Victor, who was supposed to be returning from studies in Canada the next day but had arrived the day before. The airlines had lost one of his bags, so he was back there to pick it up. That was a very pleasant welcome back to Botswana. I am trying to get him to the office next week to help me clean up some of this grant ….we shall see if he bites.
I finally started to feel better - like an earlier form of human - but not completely human around 1 when my ride arrived to pick me up. We drove to Game City where I bought myself a vacuum cleaner. Merry Christmas to Me! As he drove me along A1 towards Otse, we slowed for a police checkpoint. I was talking to him about Botswana being such a “small town” and comparing it to my trip to Germany, when he slowed the car even though he was being waved through so he could say “hi” to all the various people working at the checkpoint. Guess he knew them. I understood one word in it all “lekgoa” (white person) to figure I needed to ask what they were saying. He said, they saw him with me and were joking that he now had himself a white woman. Yeah, great. It got worse once we passed his regular turnoff and headed to Otse. Right about that time, a car full of women flew by us honking. Then he flew by them honking.
So now he was clearly driving a white woman somewhere beyond his normal “territory” and would be hearing about it. I hope he only says the truth, that I paid the owner of the taxi P200 to pick me up and the airport and he was driving instead because something had come up for the owner at the last minute. This is how one gets a bad reputation (or a good one, depending on which gender you happen to be).
He drops me off without further incident and as I close and lock the gate, a (male) neighbor walks by and greets me, asking me how I like Botswana. Still like it, I guess, but having a bit of a culture shock moment, is what I am thinking….but I tell him “it’s just fine, Botswana.” He mentions he saw the fellow I had come and clean the yard earlier in the week and that he was glad because of snakes.
I turned and looked at the yard and noticed that all the weeds from the immediate dirt driveway area were gone. Cool. My house sitter had done me this additional favor, I guess, although in theory, since it is his mother’s house and he is supposed to look after it anyway, it was a relatively small favor. Of course the fact that the fellow walking by noticed this, but didn’t notice that the guy doing the cleaning was the same fellow who is the son of the owner of the house means that this fellow has started to speculate about who the guy in my yard was. And since the guy in my yard stayed at my house for 10 days, he can further speculate.
Perhaps since I am white and older they will assume only that I am rich and have hired gardening help, not that I have hired a companion. Realistically, if I WERE to hire a companion (but why the hell would I do that when I have my cats??) I would be sure to be here when he was, and not half way around the world.
Speaking of whom, my hired help just arrived with a friend of his on the way to work to pick up the gift I brought him back from Germany – a black polo shirt with the word Deutschland and its flag on it. He was happy. He says he rarely saw Sisi during his stay, and that Pudi would scratch on his bedroom door at night to be let in. He was happy to see I had bought a vacuum cleaner and I promised him as soon as I felt up to the challenge I would start de-furring the house. He also asked if I was going to have a Christmas tree….hmmm….he may have a point because probably the only way it will start FEELING like Christmas is if I start decorating the place….deck the halls and all. And it looks like the mangos will be ripe for Christmas, so what the heck do I have to complain about???
But right now I am just too tired and blechy feeling to do much. Maybe I will cut out a few more snowflakes, just because it doesn’t take much energy...and in a strange way it does make me feel cooler.
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