The days are whizzing by way too fast, but full of great adventures. First full day, Wednesday 12/15, was errand day. Sounds mundane, but was lots of fun. It was clear that Maria – see Caroline’s “The White Egg” post from Dec. 10th – was happy to see our backsides heading out the door. Caroline to Maria: “We’re going to go out for a while.” Maria to Caroline: “Good. I can’t clean when you are in the house.”
First was the local tiny library where Caroline happened to check out a copy of the book I had bought her for Christmas, “Country of My Skull” - a compelling book about South Africa. (Very smooth, Q, bringing a book to RSA that is available for free two blocks away.) Then a trip to the local recycling center. Three things of note: 1) they take pretty much everything; 2) you tip the people staffing the recycling center (and the guys who help you in the petrol station, and the guys who “help” you park and un-park in a parking lot – sometimes helpfully, but often unhelpfully such as gesticulating wildly while standing in your blind spot , and….This is the opposite of when I was living in France last summer where NOT tipping was the norm – always there are cultural adjustments; 3) there is an open question as to whether these folks are hired staff, or if they are random people who have an entrepreneurial spirit and station themselves at various points in the recycling center to help sort and receive tips in exchange.
Mixed into the day was dropping Alexander off & picking him up from Pridwin (his school) for cricket camp. They make the crickets build teepee fires, sing camp songs, and other cool stuff. Okay that’s not what they do at cricket camp, but actually I was a puffed up and proud aunt when his cricket instructor told Caroline that Alexander had done a great job in camp that day. It was also really clear, watching him, that he is very much fitting in with his new friends here.
The rain continued to pour down in buckets. Deliciously moody. Except that C & B’s swimming pool began to reach overflow point, and the rain bashing against the many many windows and doors started to create a small estuary system at various points around the house. (Notice the contrast between the gushing -- yes, broken -- rain gutter on the right which only partly captures the feel of the delusge, and the sunny backyard picture on the left, take the following day.)
This wasn’t a huge big deal – water is just water after all, and all of the floors are tile and virtually indestructible, but I have to say that I was just a little disturbed when-- going to bed – I noticed that the water in the guest bedroom was pooling around all of the electrical wires for extensions cords, the wireless system, my cell phone charger etc., all of which were only inches away from the brass bed on which I was to sleep. Maybe brass doesn’t conduct electricity like other metals, but it did give me pause about Caroline and Bill’s intentions for me, particularly in my continued slightly jet-lagged state. Exert control over my psyche w/a little electro-shock? Or create the “electric bed” version of the “electric chair” so that they could sell (or being the dyed in the wool liberals they are, DONATE) my organs to some place or other? Bill reassured me this was not the case when he came in and plucked the electrical equipment – bare handedly – out of the lake.
So far, we are all still surviving.
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