Rural Bathing

Two days without bathing and I feel as if I am on the verge of launching a new kine of body odour called "You're Feisty".

Our water is pumped up to a holding tank and then distributed as and when we require it, when we have a power outage, we have no water and the odour of the past creeps back like heartburn after a dodgy pie.

I had set aside 3 wetwipes from a restaurant chain and this would been my plan of attack if the electric gods once again felt us unworthy of their gifts. It's moments like these that make living in Africa great, we have so much we take for granted and yet we have this fickle structure that is as reliable as Blackberry's future.

I awoke and water ran from the tap and I had to fight down the urge to run down the passageway singing "Rock and Roll dreams come true". It was a beautiful moment and even though the water pressure was a weak as a priests alibi on a youth camp, it was enough for me to wash all the bits that needed attending to.

So here I am at my desk, sick as a dog with flu, but not smelling like a lemon scented wetwipe and grateful for running water and electricity.

Nite All

Frosty Bits

I am cold, colder than the heart of a divorce lawyer or a cat who is ignoring you.

There was snow and I am not in favour of it. It is just a pre-requisite for mud and has the potential of ice on steps. Now this led to a knock on my door at 21h00 on Saturday night as one of my work colleagues fell up a flight of stairs. After pointing and an initial spurt of acceptable mocking, I did what any neighbour would do, I gave him 4 Disney character plasters. The look of utter disgust was priceless and I had to stop myself from giving him a peck on the cheek.

Life on site has entered a routine and the advent of a week of sub zero temperatures and snow has certainly cast a little disconcertment amongst us all, almost like a huge rump steak in the company of vegetarians. Please don't get me wrong, I once knew of a girl who heard a tale of her distant aunt's twin daughter-in-laws roommate who bumped into a vegetarian at an anti-prenuptial rally in some distant American State.

I bought a pair of longjohns this weekend and am now in need of thermal underwear before it reaches the stage where a vasectomy is no longer required and I will be left with nothing to scratch when I awaken in the morning. Pre-waking needs for bladder visits to the loo have now become instances of dash and slash with the acute possibility of a splash.

So into the cold frosty yonder I venture until we next cross paths

Nite All

Sundays, Cycling & Death

Sunday nights are the pits.

I am in darkest Africa and am currently camera-less, work is getting busy, but like all projects away from home the weekends are long. I am not a sociable drinker so clinging onto a bar counter like a three year old holding onto his penis is not really my thing.
My Mom and sister have knitted some teddy bears, scarves and beanies for the kids in Lesotho so this weekend they will be delivered, how my Mom manages this while looking after my Dad with advanced Parkinsons is indeed astounding. I am alone and I barely manage to look after myself, in fact if my bottom wasn't connected to my body, I am sure I would have misplaced it by now.

I have come to realise that my girls are at an age where they need their parents less and less and are becoming independant little adults. I think it is harder for a Dad to accept as they are always going to be my little angels, I mean that's why I have the chloroform, cable ties, baseball bat and hacksaw or as I prefer to call it, my "Dexter Welcoming Kit". When I am having a bad day or feeling lonely, I think of my girls or try and make contact with a friend back in SA, sometimes I find someone to chat to and sometimes they are able to chat, so I need a cuddle buddy and a chat buddy. Should you wish to apply for any of the positions, please mail me on tedlodewijks@gmail.com and I will respond accordingly, tequila or milkshakes will be supplied.



I am also considering aquiring a bicycle, my concerns are that I will be able to walk, sit or get out of the bath after my first cycle, as I am living with 15 guys I would also rather die naked in the bath than have them rescue me. So the cos by far outweigh the pros at this stage, also whoever designed cycling kit must have been more in touch with his happy side than Elton John after a couple of strawberry daquiris. And for the record guys, any drink that has an umbrella, fruit or needs to be drunk through a straw is meant for the ladies, just saying.

On that extremely biased note, I must leave you and head into a 3 hour meeting.

Nite all