In Which Cookie Roulette Is The Name Of The Game
on Zoe Page (Sierra Leone), 10/Oct/2010 20:28, 34 days ago
In Mexico when you go for a walk, around every corner there’s a Circle K or a 7eleven or an Oxxo. When I finally get round to going for a walk today (after a thrilling morning of hanging washing on my newly fashioned line, unpacking Maria’s cast offs and reading the surprisingly predictableHouse Rules) I discover things are a little different. Around every corner here I am liable to find a man peeing by the side of the road– though the usual toilet cubicle conventions apply and if there are multiple men peeing at once they have to be well spaced, not next to each other. Alternatively I might find a stray, sandy coloured dog. There are huge numbers of them here, but I am staying well clear ever since the Health and Safety lecture lady told us a lick from any animal– not just a bite from a mouth-foaming woofster as you might thing– is enough to warrant follow up Rabies jabs.I come out of my gate and turn right which Junior (yes, he’s back) watches with big eyes and the succinct observationYou’re going that way today. That’s right, buster. I wander first to the right, and then up and over the hill and find nothing in the way of exciting, hidden chocolate shops or even anywhere selling bread, nor do I happen across a secret Secret Society gathering, but I do spot a hitherto unseen house which proves I don’t live inquitethe largest place in town...I hang a left on Hangha Road but it really is the edge of town so I circle back in the blazing sun (perhaps a walk at 2pm was not the best idea) and head to the air conditioned heaven of Leader Price where, for the first time ever, I spend precisely the daily allowance we get here, a little over£7. For this princely sum I get a Diet Coke (for the walk home) and a Dairy Milk (for after tea: I’m eating them now as I know I’ll get bored soon and the diet can start then. The only chocolate in town is Dairy Milk / Fruit and Nut / Whole Nut / Caramel, dubious Indian KitKats and what I discovered yesterday are questionable bars of Terry’s Chocolate Orange. Oh, and Kinder bars too. And Malteasers, but they’re not crispy. It sounds like a lot but really it’s not a great selection). I also get spinach in a tin which costs nearly £3, which is crazy since I’ll have to eat it up pretty rapidly given my distinct lack of fridge. Maybe next weekend I can have a spinach roll for breakfast, spinach chickpeas for lunch and spinach pasta for tea. I get some chickpeas too, because today’s gourmet meals have included, um, tomato curried chickpeas times two. I get oats as I might be able to rustle up porridge for breakfast. Finally, I throw in an unmarked pack of cookies. It’s like those funny shops where they peel the labels off tins and make you take your chances. I am playing cookie roulette, but for 30p it’s worth it. So there you go: spinach, chickpeas, oats, chocolate, fizzy pop and cookies. A random diet, I’ll grant you, but not too bad considering the circumstances. I can eat this all year and come out quids in or shun the chocolate and cookies (which the results of the roulette may lead to anyway) and save a few £ while I lose some lbs.On my walk I see a woman wearing double denim. That is wrong on so many levels not least the fact that (a) it must be over 34 C outside today and (b)...it’s double denim. I come back to find the painters have finished the walls and are now doing the iron gates a fetching blue. Yep, it’s not just chavy tenants in the UK who like to paint things that really shouldn’t be painted. I sit on the balcony with my feet in a bucket of water, finish the book even though it’s kinda obvious whodunit, and marvel at the way another day has just gone, trying not to gettoojealous of the Freetownians with their tales of Nutella crepes and beach trips.When it’s time to lock up, I see Mr Barry who is unhappy with the painters’ work and wants them to return. He also has yet to move his car, despite promises they would all be out of my hair by the close of play today. As he comes round to show me the faulty painting (which looks fine to me) a child appears and I shoot Junior awho is this?glance. It turns out he is one of my lovely landlord’s charming children. How many does he have? Um, maybe 6. 3 boys and, yes, he thinks he has 3 girls too, said with all the conviction of someone who is probably really wishing he didn’t have to deal with a bossy girl as his only tenant when he'd much prefer something trouser shaped . That may be so, but I’m the one wearing the pants in this relationship, quite literally, given his penchant for dresses** Probably some religious garb. I don’t mean to be offensive, but he sort of brings it out in me.