Jam

30 December, 2008

Even though I went to bed reasonably late, I woke up at 6:29am with a start. I knew I was in a comfortable bed in a clean room but I remembered that my alarm was still set to open up the clinic. It's funny how the human body can do that. I turned it off and went back to bed.

It's always unsettling sleeping in a stranger's house for the first time. You don't really know the morning routines of others. Previously Mike and Evelyn had said get up when you feel like it, and when you get up just ask Elijah to make whatever it is you want for breakfast.

Now if I was at home in my own bed and I knew I didn't have too much planned, I'd be up at the crack of noon. However, I didn't want to appear too slovenly to my hosts so got up at 8:15am. I had another fantastic shower, although the lack of water pressure did irk me; not that I was complaining mind you. Dressed back in my Cura clothes I went downstairs to the wafting aroma of freshly cooked bacon. Shosha was up and having her breakfast. I said hello and stood around in uncomfortable silence until Elijah came to offer me my breakfast. He offered eggs but naturally I declined and instead had bacon and toast. I popped back upstairs and grabbed my laptop to catch up on things.

It really was paradise. Here I was sitting underneath a shady pergola looking out over the pool on one side that was being cleaned by the pool boy, behind that beautifully manicured gardens; whilst on the other side a landscaped terraced backyard tumbling down the hill with plenty of trees. It was all very green and lush. In a few moments, Elijah came out with my breakfast; some juice, fresh tea, heated milk, perfectly cooked bacon, fresh bread lightly toasted and jam.

They say that when you are deprived of all your normal home comforts, like when you are lost in a jungle or on a deserted desert island, or you land a stint in an Asian prison (I speak from experience on the latter), it is the little things that you miss the most. Sometimes it takes a while before you realise how much you miss them. This morning, for me it was jam. I'm not a religious jam connoisseur by any stretch of the imagination. Although there is plenty of jam in my cupboard I will more often opt for the Vegemite (mainly out of patriotic pride) than a marmalade or conserve. However, when I know there is no chance of Vegemite, the thing I love the most about breakfast is jam. It's the one thing I always take in hotels in the morning. I frequently open two or three of the tiny little jars so that I can try them all. I think it's because, to me, jam represents decadence. Whether it be on a scone with clotted cream, or liberally spread over fresh white toast, jam just has a touch of class that you don't get with peanut butter or other spreads. When I make toast myself, Vegemite is fine. However, when I'm served toast made by someone else, then the situation positively demands jam. Beside my toasted bread sat a big jar of jam (well marmalade to be precise), and it was the good stuff. Heaps of bits of visible fruit that actually looked like the fruit it came from not some lumpy nondescript mulsh. I spread the toast with butter while it was still hot, then as the butter started to melt into the bread on went generous knife-fulls of jam. This was paradise.

I savoured breakfast, Elijah came and cleared my tray away, and then I went to work on my laptop. I had a bit of writing to catch up on and wanted to make a few changes to the website that Mike and I had discussed yesterday, so I made myself comfortable and went to work.

Around 12:00pm the battery started to go on my laptop. I had forgotten to charge it overnight. Looking around I couldn't see any power points outside so I had to take the laptop inside to plug it in. I wandered outside and was just sitting down when Evelyn came down. She was surprised that I was there and thought Mike and I had gone somewhere. I said I hadn't seem him. Scarcely a minute later he came downstairs. He had been working in his office oblivious to the fact that I was up.

We sat around and talked for a quite a while then Mike and I decided to go pick up the photos we had submitted yesterday. We jumped into his car and went to the Sarit Centre, collected the photos, picked up a present for a friend of theirs 60th birthday tonight and went back home.

I needed to get back to Cura but before I went, Mike insisted we have lunch. Thinking forward to the likely menu at Cura for the day, I didn't protest. We ordered the car to come and pick me up then sat down for a lovely light lunch. At about 2:45pm the car turned up, I bade my farewells and climbed into the same rust bucket that had dropped me off, for my journey back home.

As the car rumbled into the property the kids came streaming out of the building. They were so happy to see me and I them. I dumped off my stuff and we all mucked around for a couple of hours. Word had got out that I was planning a trip for them so they wanted to know everything about it. Unfortunately, I didn't know exactly what was planned as I left Moses to sort out the details. I went to see him, gave him the photos I had developed and we arranged everything for the next day. We then went to order and pay for the soft drinks for the kids. This involved a 10 minute walk up the dirt road to a little hole in the wall that served as a local shop. The shopkeeper was behind fairly think iron mesh with a rough hole cut in it. We told him that we wanted two crates of soft drinks (48 bottles). Normally in Kenya you have to drink the soft drink at the shop as the bottles are heavily recycled. However, because of the long standing relationship with Moses we were permitted to take the bottles on the bus provided we promised to return them all.

We walked back to the home, I took the remaining files for the kids and Moses went on his way home. It was after 6:30pm. Moses like the house mothers, works seven days a week at the orphanage. I have a final muck around with the kids then head off to my room to finish working on the website. As is usual my dinner is brought over to me about 6:45pm. However, unlike normal nights, when the house mother leaves, she bolts the door from the outside. I discover this when I decide to have a bathroom break. Because this is a clinic, the door is fortified and there is no way I can get it open from the inside. The orphanage is also locked down at night. Me and my engorged bladder are locked in for the night. I contemplate urinating out of one of the windows, and to be honest, in this country that wouldn't be the most offensive thing I could do, but know that if I did, I would guarantee to be seen and the level of communication between us all was not good enough to explain the situation. I decide to think about something else and tough it out.

We have decided that we will like to capture all the children's school records in the website, so this is something I need to finish tonight as there is not much time until I go. I get everything working around midnight and go to bed. It takes a good deal of mental effort to think of non-liquid thoughts as I drift off to sleep.

This was a good day.