Same... but different
On Saturday mornings I wake blearily in time for Football Focus… I wake at dawn here, partly due to the noise of farmers hollering to each other across the village, partly coz there’s so little to do in the evening I’ve usually been asleep since 10.30pm the night before, and partly because I like to nurse a brew during the coolest part of the day. Often the village loudspeaker will crank up at 6am. Generally this is mundane local news read in a strangely vituperative manner but on Saturdays, I am brought tantalizingly close to my dressing gown and sofa at home as news of the English Premier League rattles on at the usual deafening volume. Although this is in the local language, they use lots of English phrases to add colour and sophistication, so stories that tell of ‘Young Wayne Rooney’ and ‘bar brawls', or 'Big Sam' and 'wads of cash' can be heard if you can stand to listen.
People are labeled … If you ever wondered where the ill-fitting t-shirt you eventually decided to give to charity ended up, then Africa is probably the answer. Though not quite as widespread as in East Africa, the phenomenon of Granddads sporting tees that say “I’m with the band” and women who are displaying that to them ‘college football is all that matters’ helps to make the curious surroundings of Humjibre as semiotically surreal as a boozy dream.
Kids swear at their teacher… Don’t know if they picked this up from a previous teacher but whenever one of the older students gets a question wrong they invariably blurt out “shit!” Trying hard not to laugh, I explain that only stupid people swear in the UK. (One of the benefits of them never having been out of Humjibre is that they’ll buy anything.) Gotta watch my language however, as I’ve been muttering some choice French at the rubbish blackboard we have whilst it squeaks or cracks our precious chalks.
People knock to enter… but here they just make the noise and not the action. I try to explain that it is an onomatopoeia (partly because i like to see the look on their face when I try to spell it), but it's a bit of a lost cause.
Fad today gone tomorrow… Though they have very few things to play with here, when one of the children do come up with an idea of making something, it spreads like a virus. First it was cars made of a 3ft bamboo pole and wheels cut out of flip flop foam, then it was cardboard box toy guns, now some kids have managed to beg, borrow or steal the required materials to make a cart. Especially when it rains, you can see this thing hurtling down the hill outside our house with some screaming pre-teen barely hanging on by his fingernails. So, in my idle moments, I think about what cheap craze I could start. Palm nut conkers came to mind, but any ideas from people more creative than me would be appreciated. Suggestions to the usual address please.
People are labeled … If you ever wondered where the ill-fitting t-shirt you eventually decided to give to charity ended up, then Africa is probably the answer. Though not quite as widespread as in East Africa, the phenomenon of Granddads sporting tees that say “I’m with the band” and women who are displaying that to them ‘college football is all that matters’ helps to make the curious surroundings of Humjibre as semiotically surreal as a boozy dream.
Kids swear at their teacher… Don’t know if they picked this up from a previous teacher but whenever one of the older students gets a question wrong they invariably blurt out “shit!” Trying hard not to laugh, I explain that only stupid people swear in the UK. (One of the benefits of them never having been out of Humjibre is that they’ll buy anything.) Gotta watch my language however, as I’ve been muttering some choice French at the rubbish blackboard we have whilst it squeaks or cracks our precious chalks.
People knock to enter… but here they just make the noise and not the action. I try to explain that it is an onomatopoeia (partly because i like to see the look on their face when I try to spell it), but it's a bit of a lost cause.
Fad today gone tomorrow… Though they have very few things to play with here, when one of the children do come up with an idea of making something, it spreads like a virus. First it was cars made of a 3ft bamboo pole and wheels cut out of flip flop foam, then it was cardboard box toy guns, now some kids have managed to beg, borrow or steal the required materials to make a cart. Especially when it rains, you can see this thing hurtling down the hill outside our house with some screaming pre-teen barely hanging on by his fingernails. So, in my idle moments, I think about what cheap craze I could start. Palm nut conkers came to mind, but any ideas from people more creative than me would be appreciated. Suggestions to the usual address please.
posted by Luke Chapter 1 at 3:15 pm
1 Comments:
Love ya blog, I understand the westlife comment, the girls love them here. I just don't get it. It's a sad state that the world has got to.
Glad your enjoying yourself
marc
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