Day trip or washing ...

The day trip was organised and off they went. Too many of them piled into one car. Who cares, there are road laws and no-one but no-one follows them. The police don't stop you by chasing you with their cars, only by road block. So off they went with their snacks and fruit. Promising to buy more food on the way. With a man in charge of the expedition that is very doubtful!

They have gone to the Lake. It's massive. We went last week and promised to go again for the day. But if I had gone then a child would have missed out. I don't mind I went before.

Having the day free I couldn't choose between helping with the cooking or washing some clothes ... the choice wasn't as easy as you may think. For a start the cooking is done over an open fire and the washing by hand. Ah, the good old days eh ? I used to hate washing day on Mondays when it was with a twin tub, by hand is far worse. But, when done properly and time taken the clothes do come out far cleaner.

The back of the house and the poultry house on the left from the compound

Getting the water in a bucket from the stone reservoir in the back of the compound I plonk the plastic bucket on the concrete steps at the back of the house. I then plonk my bottom next to it. Using the old fashioned hard soap, the green carbolic type. Scrubbing and rubbing. Not an easy task for someone used to an automatic washing machine.

A bucket for washing and a bucket for rinsing, but I still have to go and fetch more to really get the soap out. I could have used Omo but it does need a lot more rinsing. It's so hot and sunny, reaching 34 plus degrees centigrade. At least the washing will dry. I could hang it on the lines next to the steps. But I am going to put mine upstairs on the front veranda, it's surrounded with the wall and protectors, whilst allowing the free-flow of air. So the washing is not seen from below. It's also nearer to the bedrooms. Lazy? Not really, but the heat is so tiring. High humidity makes every task feel ten times harder ...

There is no other good car around. They have taken the best car. But I feel restless now. It's not like in the west. I want to be able to drive around or catch a safe mode of transport and go to another village. At least we have small shops at the end of the church compound. They don't sell much except teabags, bread and sweets ... I venture this far alone but not further.

If I am walking along the road people would want to stop me and talk. It's also hot, dusty and dangerous. Drivers do not take care ordinarily. Now they would be staring at the only white woman (onya ocha means white person and I have heard it several million times now) walking on the road. There are no formal pavements or designated safe pedestrian areas anywhere.

I decide to stay home .....