This is not what I expected. I thought I would be able to write a nice witty piece about people watching on my planes, which was very fun. Apart from that, there was one thing which happened which seemed ominous: on the leg to Dubai there was a choice of fish or chicken; feeling as if this might be my last chance of meat for eight weeks I went for chicken…but was given fish. I didn’t complain as somehow I felt it might be some form of fateful intervention. I pondered my fish while I ate it.
I only got to Addu a few hours ago, and it’s completely massacred any expectations I had of the content of the first post I would write abroad. To be fair I arrived when it was pitch black, so I couldn’t really work out where I was, I was just driven to a house… However I hadn’t been completely screened off from the local nature; it is something I’m not appreciating so much at this apartment; I am living in unwilling harmony with cockroaches and ignorant harmony with I’m sure a whole host of other creepy crawlies. This is being written to a chorus of frog croaks. To add insult to injury I have broken my iPod and from what I can tell, there is nothing to do at all after 6.30pm, which is when it becomes dark- I will return in eight weeks a connoisseur of back garden noises..
Due to the distinct lack of any activity from what I’ve been told, I might adopt the sleeping pattern of getting up at dawn and sleeping when it goes dark… if only to give my cockroaches some personal space when they’re knocking about. I’m miffed about my iPod, but thankfully I brought enough books to last me. But again, I’m in a conundrum as the only room light enough for read happens to be the main bug hangout. Although all things considered, I am very fortunate to be living where I am living, it is as good as I could have wished for.
Nevertheless, there are things to do. I had a sit down chat with the guy, Mr Habeeb, vaguely coordinating my stay. That is really what he is doing. I can do as much or as little coaching as I want. He has no idea about the state of the boats. He has no idea how many kids will do it. He has no idea how much they want to do. Something was muttered about a national squad…. Something about a swimming training camp. Then elections. Then back to swimming. And on and on etc. Basically I have free reign; this might sound fun, but there is literally nothing to do as far as I can tell… rowing shall prove to be my only release (apart from when I can kick back with my six-legged friends). On another note I am finding the names a bit of a challenge, my main tactic being asking them for their contact details and saying “so, how do you spell your name?” once I’ve properly forgotten it.
I have since found a dongle and so will write pretty regularly.