Rude people are a part of a holiday

You plan your holiday, researching finer details, checking out weather forecasts.  But one thing you never factor in is the rude people you encounter on your trip.  I have to say, invariably they are taxi drivers.
Take for example, my recent trip to Fort Lauderdale.  My plane landed at about 8.45pm.  We had to wait on the runway for over an hour for a gate to be free for the plane to pull into so we could disembark.  Then another hour for the bags to slowly get spit out onto the conveyor belt.  Factor in a ten hour flight and as you can imagine, my patience levels would not be the best.  Finding a taxi was not the easiest, which was surprising.  Signs for a taxi rank were not noticeable.  When I asked a staff member to point me in the drection of the taxi rank, she gave a big sigh and pointed me in the direction of the 'shared ride' area, irritation seemingly dripping off her finger.  I trudged all the way there and waited a while, eventually noticing that taxis were driving past and stopping off where the irritable lady was standing, still sending people to the wrong area.  I headed back to where the taxis were stopping and managed to grab a taxi.  All was well until we went through a toll and the taxi driver turned around and held his hand out, "Gimme $1.50 for the toll."
I replied that I had only just arrived, it was nearly midnight and I didn't have any American money on me.  He shouted at me.  Yes, you heard right.  The stupid taxi driver shouted at me!  He asked me how I dared climb into his taxi cab without cash!  I was shocked.  I pointed out that he had a card machine in his cab.  "It's not *!#* working!" he shouted, "Now I have to take a detour to find an ATM so you can draw out cash!"
To say I was gobsmacked, was quite an understatement.  I had encountered rude people on all of my travels, but this guy was definitely the worst!  He stopped at an ATM, I drew cash, and when he eventually arrived at my hotel, I saw that the meter said $43.50.  He turned around to face me, and said that with the toll added on I owed him $50.  Now I am no mathematician, but I know that 43.50 + 1.50 does not equal 50.  But, it was midnight, I was exhausted so I gave him $60, as the ATM only issued twenties.  He then told me that he didn't have $7 change!  In my exhaustion I shook my head to make sure I heard right.  "$7 change?" I asked.  Somehow, the $50 which was already an overcharge, had changed to $53!  He pulled out some notes, showing me a $5 and a $10 and said he didn't have $7 and would have to drive off to get change.  I knew when he drove off that he would never be coming back again.  Ripped off!  What a welcome to America!
The other taxi drivers I encountered were much friendlier, although there was another one that tried the cash only thing, saying his machine was broken.  When I asked for a receipt, suddenly his machine was fixed.  One taxi driver said I was hot, and wanted to fetch me with his personal car the next day to take me around the city.  When I told my son, he said "Don't do it Mom.  Remember Dexter.  He came from Miami."
In France we found the waiters to be extremely rude.  But on a return visit, they were exceptionally friendly.  So even though the rudeness of some locals might be disturbing at the time, you have to balance it with the friendliness and helpfulness of others you meet.  I guess in busy holiday seasons, one can get easily annoyed with tourists asking the same questions, making the same silly comments.  And there will always be taxi drivers ready to take advantage of tourists whom they might view as easy money.  I guess we just have to accept that encounters with rude people are just a part of every holiday.
Cindy Vine is a teacher and author currently living in Norway.  She is the author of Defective, Hush Baby and The Freedom Club.  All her books are available on Amazon in both paperback and ebook format. http://cindyvine.com

Last One Standing, my thoughts on Christmas

My earliest memories of Christmas are of pretending to be asleep and watching my Mom, Aunts and Granny fill the Christmas stocking at the end of my bed in Gordon's Bay.
Christmas was always family time filled with love, laughter, noise and good food.
Family came from all over, there were people everywhere.  Christmas was the day people put aside differences and were a united loving family.
As I grew up and became a teenager, I became a part of a blended family.  Christmases were not always on Christmas Day, but it was still devoted to quality family time, catching up with each other, enjoying each other's company.  There would still be a big group sharing lunch on Christmas Day itself, and you would always eat way too much, but love being a part of a big, loving family.
When we had Christmases overseas, we opened our home to others, although I remember a Christmas in Goa and another in New York, where it was just myself and my son Tony and daughter Siobhan.  It was awful not having Kerri with us, as if a vital part of our family was missing.  In Goa, we joined together with other holidaymakers.  In New York, we went to a Mafia Family Italian Restaurant, got way too much food and had it wrapped up and gave it to a homeless man sitting in his wheelchair on the street.
Memories.
That's all Christmas is now.
Memories of what it used to be, a time focused around family.
Now I feel like the last one standing.
The rest of my family spend Christmas with their new families.
Tony and Kerri are working overseas and not home for Christmas.
It's just Siobhan, my mother and myself trying to make Christmas feel like family time, just the three of us, alienated from the world.
I feel sad.
Christmas has now become a time of sadness, a time of anxiety, a time of loneliness.
The last couple of days my eyes start to well with tears every time I think about Christmas.
Whereas in the past I looked forward to this day with excitement, now I can't wait for it to pass.  It has become an agony for my soul.
People say but Christmas is the day to celebrate the birth of Jesus.  Historically it has been proven he wasn't born on Christmas Day.  Christmas is and always will be a day to celebrate being a part of a family.  Well, that's what it means to me anyway.
I feel like I am no longer a part of a family.  I understand that things change over time and the family breaks apart and forms new families and have new family traditions.  It just hurts that I am not part of that.
For me family was everything.
Now it is nothing.
As everybody celebrates with their new families, I am the last one standing.  The last one to remember when being a part of a large family celebrating Christrmas was everything.
So I'll make the traditional Christmas meal, way too much food as now we only feed three.
I'll shed my tears for the times gone by.  Treasure my memories of the shouts of excitement as the children dug into their Christmas stockings, the anticipation as we all gathered around the tree and handed out gifts to each other.  I am grateful that I have those memories of family Christmases.  The times when I used to agonise over what would be the best. most original gift to buy someone.  Because in those days, you bought gifts for every family member, no matter the cost.
I'll wish all a Merry Christmas as that is the expected thing to do.
But this what I have now isn't Christmas.  Christmas is about family.
And as the last one standing I'll cherish my memories of family Christmases, love, laughter, joy and togetherness.

Cindy Vine lives in Cape Town, South Africa.  She is the author of Not Telling, C U @ 8, Defective, Hush Baby and The Case of Billy B.  You can buy her books on Amazon in Kindle or Paperback format.

Trying to live the dream

Work.  Something you have to do to survive which will hopefully give you the means to bring you closer to your dream.  Unfortunately, the constraints of work often hold you back from your dream.  Commitments, time constraints, all sent to try your patience.
Last night I dreamt that I owned six houses, each one in a different country.  I spent the year traveling around the world spending two months in each house.  That dream is probably a bit unrealistic considering that at this precise moment I don't own any property anywhere in the world.  And 3-4 houses would be better so that you can spend longer in each country.  But hey, it was just a dream.
Thinking about it though as dawn approached while I watched the Fiji Samoan World Cup Rugby game at some god-forsaken hour on a Sunday morning when all intelligent life were still firmly ensconced in their beds fast asleep, I realised that I quite liked that dream and might need to tweak it a bit and adapt it to make it my own.

The first step will be trying to save some money.  You can't buy a property without any money.  That is a sad fact of life.  Unfortunately, I don't have any of that hugtight sticky glue to keep those dollar notes firmly stuck to my coffers.  Exotic holidays are too much of a temptation and I can't resist flying off to explore somewhere new.  And then, life is so short so you really should make the most of it and not short-change yourself on those holidays.
What I'd really like to do is give up my day job and then spend my time writing and traveling.  Following my team for the 2015 Cricket and Rugby World Cups.
These dreams are not impossible; they just take a bit of conscious effort to work towards making them a reality.  A dream is broken down into small goals.  Each goal is then broken down into steps.  Don't be afraid to dream big.  It's the goals to get there that need to be small and achievable.  Maybe today is the day to work out the blueprint, the road map to achieving your dreams.  Good luck!

Just when you thought things were slowing down...

That cottage by the sea and lawn bowls at the club every Wednesday afternoon sounds more and more tempting by the day.  But knowing me, I'll be bored after the first week.  I've come to realise that my life has to be non-stop action and out of control for me to be truely happy. 
Our Grade 5 Exhibition was a huge success with students raising money for many causes.  When you see the Action they take, then you realise what a brilliant programme the PYP is.
This past weekend five staff took 27 little darlings down to Dar-es-Salaam for the big primary schools swimming gala and football tournament.  After a dubious start where the bus company delivered a bus that probably wouldn't have made it to the nearest fuel station in one piece (no seat belts and the seats were all loose and sliding everywhere) there was no way it would last the 10 hour bus trip to Dar.  But that was just typical of Tanzania.  And here I'd thought they'd think me anal retentive for phoning them twice a week for the last two months to confirm we'd be getting a new bus with seat belts!
The great hotel Siobhan and I had stayed in last year (Q Bar), granted it had been during the week, proved to be a bad recommendation for one of the parents.  Friday nights at the Q-Bar is obviously a no-no, with blaring loud music and prostitutes plying their trade in the rooms at night.  He said he couldn't sleep, and tried to think of a polite way to describe the sounds of sex penetrating through his walls.  I suggested 'Humpy Bumpy' and he fell in love with that, managing to include 'Humpy Bumpy' in every conversation from then on.  I'm not sure what his wife will think when he shares his new vocab with her when he gets back home.

The kids did so well, the seniors coming second out of nine schools in the swimming, and the girls placing third in the football.  They definitely did us proud and it was great to reward them with a day of fun at the water park.
The trip back was long, with one kids dropping bad smells for twenty minutes solid, so that as the smell spread up the bus the kids would scream as it hit them like a Mexican wave.  They all blamed one little boy who eventually burst into tears as he was blameless.  No one likes being blamed for something they never did.  The real culprit was the last off the bus at the toilet stop in the bushes along the side of the road.  When we asked if he'd been the one farting, he just gave a sick smile and nodded his head sadly.  He didn't even try and deny it, but the rest of the bus never knew it was him.
Now admin for next year, reports, all little bits and pieces, just enough to keep me from what I really want to do - write.
The power problems with Tanesco are getting worse.  I've decided I need to buy a woman-friendly generator that starts with a push of a button or a key.  No more of this pull-rope one that hits me in the face every time I try it after the fundi removed the safety cover to make it work better!  Work better?  I laugh in his general direction!  The blasted thing, brand new out the box, has never worked since I bought it in November!
I'm hoping to get the first draft of How to Say No to Sex and other Survival Tips for the Suddenly Single finished before the holidays start, but I'm not sure if that is realistic of me.
My book sales, especially on Kindle, are going crazy, and I've sold over 1000 in May for the first time.  If you've got a Kindle, an iPad, a Sony E-reader or a Nook, you need to check out my books which are available on all those formats, as well as on Amazon.com as Paperbacks.
I'm thinking, maybe after this week things will start to slow down for the holidays...
Cheers,
Cindy

Hiccuping into the Holidays

Have you ever wonder why nothing in life is simple, not even a holiday?  There always has to be some kind of little hiccup to raise your blood pressure.  School finished early on Wednesday morning and I should have been bouncing up and down, ready to bound off for the holidays like everybody else.  No.  I had to wake up Wednesday early morning, with chronic stomach gramps, terrible runs and nausea that made me gag when I tried to brush my teeth.  It did bring back memories of early pregnancies, that gagging while brushing the teeth bit, but alas or luckily, it would have to be divine intervention for that to be the case, and it wasn't.  I tried to attend school for the last day, but every time I opened my mouth to speak to someone, I had to quickly place my hand in front of my mouth to stop what felt like projectile vomiting.  I was in a bad way, not a good start to the holiday.
I went home and collapsed on the bed, in too much pain and feeling too weak to do anything else.  Thursday passed in a blur of toilet visits and sleep, Friday my stomach still cramped, the runs still ran frequently, but the nausea had disappeared.  A miraculous improvement!  The day improved further when I found my car's missing papers which I needed if we were going to cross the border to Kenya the next week.  That had given me some serious sleepless nights.  I took my overheating car to the fundi and he found out that all it was was a holey hose, so that was another relief.  Things were looking up, then the cramps started working overtime and I had to head once more to the safety of my bed.
Saturday was still a little queasy and the fact my rugby team the Stormers lost the first time this season, brought on more cramps.  Sunday I managed to do quite a bit of work on How to say no to sex and other survival tips for the suddenly single.  I felt good, better than I had for a while.
Monday morning 2am the power went out.  The light from across the road gives a soft light in my room as I sleep with the curtains open so that a cool breeze can enter through my slat windows.  Close the curtains and you suffocate from the heat.  I woke up with a shock in deadly darkness.  The nights are very dark here without power.  That's how I knew it was 2am.
This is the second time now in the last couple of months that bastards stole some of the power cable, resulting in no power.  The new generator I bought in November has never worked and twice been in to the fundi.  Got it back yesterday, but it still doesn't work, so not only did I pay for a new generator, but I have to keep paying for the fundi to fix it and replace parts on a brand new generator.  Sucks, doesn't it?  The power came on again at 10pm after Siobhan and I played several scrabble games by candlelight.
But, what sucks the most, is we are supposed to be leaving tomorrow (Wednesday 13 April) for Kenya.  Yesterday my car started overheating again, so in the afternoon I dropped it off with the fundi yet again.  Whatever is causing the overheating must have made that hose burst.  I just wish people here can do things right the first time, work quickly and efficiently.  It's like my kitchen that's being renovated.  They had five weeks to do it while I was away having surgery, but the started on the Friday before I returned on the Sunday.  The result, three weeks later, is that I have a half-installed kitchen, no surface or bench-top to work on, all my pots, plates, groceries stacked on the floor and on the dining room table.  Today, nobody came to do any work.  Like I said, frustrating.  If I ever get my car back in timeto go on this Kenyan holiday, I doubt I'll return to a completely renovated kitchen.  My gut feelings is that this is going to drag on even longer.
Defective is out on Kindle, Sony and at Barnes and Noble and the Apple Store.  You can see an exerpt here.

Trapped!

After planning this children's story on my 9 hour drive back from Dar-es-Salaam, (hey, one has to think about something other than the other cars on the road or a noisy teenager singing at the top of her voice), I couldn't wait to get started with it.  So, I spent the next 5 days illustrating the story.  It didn't take too long to write.  I took photos of the illustrations, put them on Photoshop, gave them a border and wrote the text on them.  Then I saved them as a jpeg, opened a word document, inserted the jpeg images and then saved the completed word document as a pdf file.  Probably did it all the long way round, but it worked so I'm happy.  My next step, was to add all the jpegs to Movie Maker and record myself narrating the story on a digital wave recorder, then I added the audio file to the movie file and voila!  I made a movie which I've uploaded onto Youtube http://youtu.be/4KJ9AGBokTQ?a.  I've tried to embed it in this post but am not sure it has worked.  I'll see when I view the completed post, eh?

Anyway, the rain was good as it meant I couldn't go outside so I had to focus on my writing.  I do tend to get distracted rather easily.  It's what happens when you have a mind that is so full of noise.  Attention Deficit Disorder, that's me.  But Saturday, the rain was a bit too much.  Torrential downpour, I thought the house would cave in.  It started leaking around my back door of the house, and then I heard a huge crash and the power went out.  Siobhan went to investigate, she was brave enough to head out in the rain.  A neighbour two houses down, had a huge giant enormous eucalyptus tree come down across the road, effectively blocking our way out.  We were trapped!  They only removed the tree the Monday afternoon, and Tanesco braved the rain Sunday afternoon to repair the power lines which had come down, so we were close to 30 hours without power.  Of course, that meant we couldn't watch movies or use the internet, couldn't charge up the phone, pump water, have a shower.  So I just painted while there was enough light and Siobhan and I started playing Scrabble.  She's good, has inherited all my sneaky Scrabble moves.
Otherwise, we've spent the rest of the holiday just relaxing at home.  Can't believe it's nearly over!  The last quarter of the school year is going to fly as there is just so much happening, and before I know it, I'll be on my huge overland trip to Cape Town.
Oh well, have some more writing to do!
love
Cindy

Ngorongoro Crater and beyond!

Woo Hoo holidays are ending!  Why am I excited?  Lord alone knows.  It could be because the fact that the holiday is over means that I can look forward to the next holiday, and that brings me even closer to my extra-long summer holiday in June.  mind you, it'll be winter in South Africa then.  But, it could also be because when the holiday is over then I get myself all focused and in the zone to start working on my next book!  Exciting stuff eh?
On the 30th December, Arden, Andrei and their twin boys, Siobhan and Tony all piled in my car and we headed to the Ngorongoro Crater which is supposed to be a World Heritage site.  It's not too far down the drag from Arusha - all in all about a 3-4 hour drive from Moshi.  It just depends on how brave you are to overtake slow-moving trucks on blind bends.  It was amazing all seven of us fitted into my car.  I have a Pajero with a little Toyota engine in it.  That means, when you go up steep hills you have to think of the little engine, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!"  Well, my car did.  It made all the steep hills.  I sort of had to lean forward though, and whisper encouragement to the engine.
Just before Ngorongoro Crater, you see Lake Manyara.  Apparently the game viewing is awesome there, but we left that for another day.  they do charge an arm and a leg for you to enter the parks in Tanzania.  We finally arrived at Ngorongoro and the got all shirty with us and wouldn't let us in.  They wanted us to hire a driver guide.  "Where on earth would he fit into my overly stuffed vehicle?" I asked with tears in my eyes.  Or it could have been dust, after 4 hours of singing kids I wasn't sure.  I lied.  Okay, just a little one.  I told the guard at the gate that we knew the crater, I'd been there two months before.  I didn't even know what the crater looked like, let alone been there before.  The guard asked how I'd managed the ascent before.  "Ascent?  No problem," I said, wondering what the hell the guard was talking about.  Andrei wanted to do some 4 x 4 driving and took over the crater trip.  At the next gate, they stopped us again and told us we needed a guide.  Tony piped up, "I'm a qualified South African game ranger."  He did write an exam and get a level one game ranger certificate after a 12 day course two years ago.  As the queue of 4 x 4 vehicles behind us was getting longer, the guard suggested Tony accompany him inside and complete some forms basically saying that if we left the vehicle at any time, Tony would go to jail.  Fair enough, I thought.
The descent was quite steep but not too bad, and we passed heaps of little Maasai villages and Maasai warriors on the rim of the crater.  In the crater itself, driving was no problem.  We saw many different types of game, an elephant crossed our path - I wonder if that gives bad luck like a black cat crossing your path?  While wondering along a dirt track to check out some hyenas cunninly spotted by Tony, my game ranger son, Arden announced that she had to pee.  Badly.  Unfortunately, the only toilet in the crater was closed, the road to it had been closed off.  We drove around taking some more taking photos, exclaiming at the animals, while all the while Arden's face was developing this pinched look and I swear I saw her eyeballs start to float.  Eventually, while we were admiring a zebra grazing next to the vehicle, Arden's strangled voice came from the back of the car.  "I have to go - NOW!"  As no vehicles were visible, Arden opened the back door and dropped her knickers and swung her bum out of the back of the car.  What sounded like the Victoria falls echoed through the car.  Just then, we saw a vehicle heading towards us.  "Car 100m away!" we shouted.  Arden replied that she was peeing as fast as she could.  Tony started to imagine what it would be like when he got arrested for letting a woman hang her naked bum out of the car to pee in the crater.  "Hurry!" we shouted, "Car approaching rapidly!" 

Just as the car drew level, Arden shook off the last drops and slammed the door shut.  "I had to stop three quarters of the way through," she muttered, "But I feel so much better now!"
The ascent was something else.  No wonder they said we needed a guide.  You have to drive up a virtually vertical face of the crater.  But, Andrei managed with aplomb.  He was great!  I don't think I would have been able to do it!  the crater is spectacular, you are guaranteed of seeing animals there.  We even saw lion and rhino!  Basically, we saw the big 5 bar the leopard.  Damn pussy cats hid away.  Check out my photos on Facebook of our Pangani holiday and Ngorongoro trip.  http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=370042&id=795715443&l=592d04ea1f
The next day we relaxed at home, went curio shopping and celebrated New year's eve by going to the Moshi club to check out amazing acrobats, dancing troupe, but by 11.30pm we were too exhausted to stay until new year and left to go home, all collapsing in bed asleep at quarter to midnight.  How sad was that!
Arden and Andrei and kids left on the 1st and we miss them.  Tony leaves on the 22nd.  We'll miss him as well.  Then it'll just be Siobhan and myself!  Ready to start our weight loss action program.
I bought a new laptop yesterday, so am ready for the year!  Hee Hah!  Have written a couple of new hubs to test it out http://hubpages.com/hub/Valentines-Day-Gifts-for-your-Dog and also http://hubpages.com/hub/Valentines-Day-Gifts-for-Geeky-Guys Check them out.
love
Cindy

As the holidaze approach

Hard to believe but true, just over a week and we have our December break here! I can't wait! Arden and Andrei and their twin boys, friends from China, are coming to visit the holiday. And with Tony here, I've got a full house. Arden's a vegetarian and I'm trying to think what I can cook for her on her first night here next Monday. As an avid carnivore, it's hard for me to be creative and think veggie. Any ideas, comments and suggestions on what I can cook for here would be welcome!

Public holiday here today! Independence day, so am enjoying not going into work. Need to make another cup of coffee and some breakfast though!

Tony has already settled in, Siobhan did well in her report, so bring on the holidays! Next week Thursday, the day before school closes, I'm off to Arusha for the day to plan our class camp at West Kilimanjaro with my colleagues in Arusha. We'll be going to 3rd and 4th Feb. I'm hoping there won't be too much hiking, I don't own suitable hiking attire! Well, that's my excuse anyway!

So, have to start seriously thinking about our holiday and doing some finer planning. I've booked our school house at Pangani on the coast, for only $15 a night. Problem is, I have to figure out how to get Andrei and Arden there as we won't all fit in my car, and how to get them back to catch their flight on the 1st January, as I plan on staying at the beach for another week! Gotta soak up that sun. Mind you, been raining every afternoon. It's our mini rainy season which is good, as it's provided water for the hydro-electric scheme here which means the last couple of weeks we've hardly had any power cuts.

Have sausage orders so need to get onto that now, and finish proofing my second draft of The Case of Billy B. I have an agent interested in taking me on. Hold thumbs that it works out!

A big sports weekend coming up, with schools from Dar-es-Salaam and Arusha coming this weekend, so I'll be a little flat out helping!

Have a great weekend, well, it's almost here!

love

Cindy

Things to look forward to

Isn't it amazing how we break up the humdrums of our lives with things we look forward to? Holidays, birthdays, a special evening out...something small which will break the endless routine of sleeping, eating and going to work, with the weekend the punctuation at the end of our work week sentence. Although some of us find ourselves working weekends as well!

Lately, I've had quite a lot to look forward to, and this has made time speed by as if I'm caught up in some kind of a time-storm. The 50 000 words in 30 days challenge from NaNoWriMo, the completion of the first draft of The Case of Billy B, the performances this past week of our school production of Cats, and the arrival tonight of my son Tony at 7pm. Next week Wednesday the 9th December is a public holiday, then the weekend is a big sports weekend with schools coming from Arusha and Dar-es-salaam. On the 14th some friends from China arrive for a visit, then I have a day off school on the 17th December to plan our class camp on West Kili with my counterparts on the Arusha Campus, then school finishes on the 18th December, then off to the coast on the 22nd December, then Christmas...Oh my goodness, all these milestones to make time go quickly.

The school's production of Cats was simply astoundingly outstanding! The talent of the kids was amazing, we had limited resources to use, no costumes made, limited quantities of stage-paint, but you wouldn't have said so watching the performance! The creativity to make something out of nothing went from costumes to the set design. I was so proud of my class, they did an excellent job with Mr Mistoferlees, but even more so was I proud of Siobhan. She has definitely inherited her stage presence and love of performing from my Mom. I don't think that it's just because she's my daughter, but she stood out from the crowd, her voice was sweet, powerful and pure, and you could see from her facial expressions and movements, she was really into her part. My baby, I am so proud of you, even though your daily singing of songs from Cats sung at the top of your voice while I was trying to concentrate and focus on writing The Case of Billy B drove me scatty.

I'm not sure about any of you, but I still count sleeps. last night, was the last sleep before Tony arrives. I haven't seen him since the end of July this year. Now, that might not seem much, but he is only 18. Hopefully, he'll remember to claim his luggage after the domestic flight from Cape Town to Johannesburg, before checking it in for his international flight to Kenya. I always used to do that stuff now he has to be independent. Can I let go and trust him to manage?

I just wish that Kerri could come and visit as well. It's hard when your kids grow up and leave home and become independent. It's like, your role on this planet is over.

Anyway, have to go and buy some things, see if my fisherman's pants I ordered from a local tailor is finished and buy some meat to make more sausage.

love

Cindy

Things we take for granted

Life moves on at a steady pace. You wake up, go to work, go home, cook, go to bed, you wake up...and so it continues, day in and day out. What breaks the tedium of daily life, are the little unexpected things that happen each day. Things you never planned on, or previously gave much thought to as you took them for granted. Things like power, the internet, water, services, directions. We are used to flicking a switch, turning on a tap, getting in a fundi (expert) and the problem is sorted. Things here are very different. Sometimes it's funny, other times just pure irritation.

Take for example, the problems with my oven. I like to cook, create in the kitchen. However, this has been a little bit of a problem as I haven't managed to get my oven working properly. The first time I tried to use it, we couldn't get the gas to stop making its shhhhhh noise as it continued to come through the pipe making the kitchen smell like a gas tank. When I fiddled with the knob, it came off in my hand and a big dollop of blue tack fell on the floor. Now, I might not be very technically minded, but I do know that blue tack is not a good choice of repair material for an oven that gets hot. The fundi came to repair it and I was promised that it would work properly. But, whereas before only the grill worked, now only the bottom oven worked. I called in the fundi again and it was supposed to work. The week before last, after a long day at school I decided to make pizza for dinner. I prepared the bases, grated the cheese, and thirteen matches later, the grill would still not let itself be lit. By that time I was seething. I was not in a happy place. When I turned the oven switch off, I heard the shhhhh sound. Gas was coming out after it had been turned of! Siobhan quickly lit a match, we opened the oven and moved the match around like a magic wand. The bottom oven ignited with the oven switched off. Desperately, we moved the oven switch around to try and turn off the gas. Another huge dollop of blue tack fell onto the floor and the knob remained in my hand, loose, no longer a part of the oven. I was so mad that all the fundi had done was just stick it on with more blue tack, that I went to bed at 7.30pm. The story doesn't end here. I wrote a long letter of complaint to the head of campus, the fundi got called in and he said that my oven was so old it was irrepairable and he had told them that many times, but the maintenance manager at school kept telling him to try and fix it anyway. Mister Chucky, the school purchasing man who is in charge of maintenance while the maintenance manager is on leave, appeared at my classroom door. "We have brand new ovens in the storeroom, so we'll take away your old one because the fundi says its dead." I gave him a grim smile of thanks. If they had a new one in the store, why the hell did they keep trying to resurrect my broken one? But, the story still does not end. My new oven is half electric, half gas which I much prefer. I hate baking with gas. It has two gas hobs, two electric hobs and an electric oven. The fundi installed the new oven, and connected the gas. However, he did not connect the electric part, so now I have gone from four gas hobs to only two, and still no oven! I happened to mention the fact that I still have no oven last week, and the maintenance manager said, "Oh, I must organise an electric fundi to go out to connect it." If I never mentioned it, it would probably have never happened. But, that was four days ago, and the electric fundi still hasn't come. So, I still don't have an oven. My gas ran out yesterday. Payday is only on Tuesday, so I guess we'll be having BBQs in the meantime. I guess, at least we have food, some people don't have that.

We have many power cuts and not having a generator does make it a challenge. Without power, there is no internet, Siobhan struggles to do her homework by candlelight, and I can't fill my sausage orders as I now have an electric sausage machine. So, the next time you flick on a switch and you have instant light, think of us. Actually, I'm thinking of buying a rechargable battery-powered light. We definitely need to do something, because usually when there's no power, we just go to bed and there is only so much sleep you can have. I have finally given in and invested in a small TV. There's no point in Siobhan having a Wii if she can't play it. Of course, one does rely on power for that to work. Which brings me to water. To get water into our tank so we can have water in the bathroom to shower with, we need to pump it. When there is no power, the gardener can't pump the water, and the result is, no shower when you are hot and sweaty. No power also means you can't turn on your hot water cylinder to heat up the water, so even if yu had water in the tank, it would be cold. To save on electricity charges, we turn on the hot water cylinder only an hour before we plan on having a shower or a bath. I am becoming quite frugal in my old age. It could be something to do with paying for a child to study at hotel school.

Last Friday, my gardener, Kabelo, called me over to the garage when I got home. "Look Cindy, ducky, ducky," he said pointing at the garage. He opened the door and there was a large black duck with a red thingie above his beak, pooping. "No want ducky," I said in my best Swahili. Kabelo laughed and said, "No, ducky not for you, ducky for me." "But I don't want a ducky by my house," I replied, wrinkling up my nose in distaste. Kabelo smiled and I had a feeling I knew what was coming. "My ducky, my house. Friend give me ducky, but no money. My mother dead last week so no work. Want ducky. Friend give me ducky, but I give friend TSH 15 000. Cindy give me TSH 15 000." I sighed. Kabelo loves tapping me and my neighbour, Patricia, for money. He always has a valid reason. She's started to write down the dates and the amounts we give him in a little book. Lord knows why, as we'll never see the money again. By the way, TSH 15 000 is the same as US$15. I'm such a walk over. Like, I can really afford to just give away $15. So, I bought my gardener a duck.

We're coming to the end of our week's holiday. Most staff have gone to the coast or on safaris somewhere. We elected to stay at home and just veg out. Actually, I've managed to get quite a lot done in my latest book, The Case of Billy B. We also managed to download (well, the school principal downloaded for me as he has unlimited internet) and watch the whole of Season 5 of Grey's Anatomy. Oh my God, it was so emotional, I reckon I cried in every episode. Last weekend they had the rugby sevens here, with teams from all over Tanzania, Kenya and Uganda competing. Kenyan teams came frst and second. I sold homemade boerewors rolls. The rugby was quite good, although the guys playing were quite small and light. I hear that the kenyan sevens side is supposed to be quite good.

On Wednesday, Siobhan and I decided to treat ourselves with a day out. About 40km from Moshi is a hot springs called Chemke. The Swahili for hot springs is 'maji ya moto'. Yeah, it does sound a bit Japanese, doesn't it? Of course, when people give you directions, they are never as simple as they sound. The diploma English teacher, Alistair, said, "Drive on the Arusha road to Boma, turn onto the dirt road next to Mr Price and go straight." For the South Africans who read my blog, Mr Price is not that fantastic clothing chain, but rather a chain of seedy supermarkets selling items way past their sell-by dates. Well, we found Boma, we found Mr Price, the dirt road was harder to find as it is literally, a dirt road, easy to not see. Thereafter we became explorers of the ilk of David Livingstone. The road was not straight. It branched every couple of 100 metres or so, and we had to make conscious decisions about which branch to take. Something a bit, like the road less traveled. Can't remember offhand who wrote that poem, was it Robert Frost? Often, we took the road with the most tyre tread marks, thinking that as it was a popular choice, it must be the right way, but it wasn't. Sometimes the flat straight road, easy to navigate was the wrong road. The right way was the one where you had to drive over boulders and trenches so that your car was at a dangerous angle. We asked for help all along the route, and I became very good with my 'maji ya moto.' Eventually, we came to an oasis of palm trees after driving through a dry landscape dotted with boaobab trees, thorn trees, tiny cement houses, cows, goats, and Masai herdsmen. When we saw the hot springs, all the frustrations of the past week vanished instantly. The peace of the place hit you instantly. The pool, with it's warm water was so clear, you could see the bottom even though it was so deep you couldn't dive down there. As we floated and swam around in the pool, it was like years dropped off. I swear it is the fountain of youth. It was truly a magical place, worth all the hassle to get there. Strangely enough, not many locals in Moshi know about the pool. It doesn't feature in either the Lonely Planet or Rough Guide. It's a secret place, magical, mysterious. And then we came home and picked huge bunches of baby carrots from the garden, which were delicious.

So yeah, despite some of the frustrations, life is good. My blood pressure has gone to its normal 110/80, despite running out of the blood pressure meds a few weeks after getting here. I think that China didn't agree with me, health-wise, and Tanzania is so much better for me. Mind you, been struggling with chronic hayfever the last few days. All the greenery and pollen! But at the end of the day, we have to be satisfied with the small things, and not take it all for granted!

My sausage machine has packed up!

And, am I devastated, no, just a little annoyed. Actually, more than annoyed. Made in China should come with hazard warnings for the mental anguish it causes. My one month old dvd player packed up last week. This is now the third dvd player in as many years. In a way, I'm relieved my sausage machine has broken down because I am a little sick of spending weekends making sausages. But I am still annoyed. Ah, conflicting emotions.

Well, my one week's holiday has come and gone. I didn't achieve a quarter of what I wanted to achieve, But, have packed 6 boxes, read 2 books and written about 4 articles, oh, and climbed down Purple Mountain, and made 10kg of sausages, the last 5kg with the old hand machine that takes forever and kills my back.

Happy Easter. My first Easter holiday in 4 years. First time school holidays coincided with Easter. But of course, no Easter eggs here. Just very expensive imported German ones at the Metro. I made my own hot cross buns which were delicious and toasted some in the oven this morning.

Ah, Happy Days, Siobhan is stomping around because the ayi has emptied out her school bag and she can't find anything. Shouting at me won't get her anywhere as I have no clue where her school stuff is. And, if I tell her that she shouldn't have left it lying around and also shouldn't have waited until 10.32pm to get ready for school the next day, it'll go down like a lead balloon.

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