It is 25 degrees today, a cool day in Haatso. I pop outside and it is warmer. The electricity meter man in his floral shirt and sandals has come to read the meter. We greet, he smiles and asks me if I am the new owner. "I wish" I respond. A fine house like this would cost around £1ooK, many houses a lot more. The house has a large sliding gate with metal supports extending from the top to the ground so that the gate slides on runners about 2 feet apart. There is a veranda, a particular favourite of the dog. A washing area for clothes, and parking for two cars around the back. This house even has a back gate so that you can access the property in the rain without tackling the pool that forms at the front.
This is my last day, and I take a last look at the house where I have been a guest for around 10 days. Jeff had hosted me not because we were friends, but because Michael had asked. The flight and car parking had cost over £1,000 and with incidentals the cost had quickly risen, £100 for injections and tablets, fuel to and from the airport and so on. I wonder how many people back at home in the United Kingdom would have hosted an unknown guest in this way? I do not consider Jeff and Tamara as friends, they have become more like family.
Mr Jacko is nowhere to be seen. I have looked for him amongst his favourite hiding places, but he has gone. There is a spider on my wall, not a big one, he is about the size of the old 1 Peswas piece. I know that if Mr Jacko was about, the spider would not be. WallJeckos eat spiders and Mosquitos, people laugh when I mention him in the same manner as a Lizard. To them he is also a friend.
My short trip outside to greet the Meter man has left me tired. I sleep again and when I awake I have a coffee and some orange biscuits. Oh, and that essential Malaria tablet. It is warmer now and I intend to terrorise the neighbourhood. The white guy in his sandals, t-shirt and shorts is off out for a walk. Nearly everyone will stare, most will smile and wave, but some will hiss. Mind you, if they are not careful, I shall hiss back.
This is my last day, and I take a last look at the house where I have been a guest for around 10 days. Jeff had hosted me not because we were friends, but because Michael had asked. The flight and car parking had cost over £1,000 and with incidentals the cost had quickly risen, £100 for injections and tablets, fuel to and from the airport and so on. I wonder how many people back at home in the United Kingdom would have hosted an unknown guest in this way? I do not consider Jeff and Tamara as friends, they have become more like family.
Mr Jacko is nowhere to be seen. I have looked for him amongst his favourite hiding places, but he has gone. There is a spider on my wall, not a big one, he is about the size of the old 1 Peswas piece. I know that if Mr Jacko was about, the spider would not be. WallJeckos eat spiders and Mosquitos, people laugh when I mention him in the same manner as a Lizard. To them he is also a friend.
My short trip outside to greet the Meter man has left me tired. I sleep again and when I awake I have a coffee and some orange biscuits. Oh, and that essential Malaria tablet. It is warmer now and I intend to terrorise the neighbourhood. The white guy in his sandals, t-shirt and shorts is off out for a walk. Nearly everyone will stare, most will smile and wave, but some will hiss. Mind you, if they are not careful, I shall hiss back.
