NOTE: Reminds of a dark, but funny, skit on Monty Python where the stoic British officer wakes up to find one of his legs bitten off by a tiger…ROFL…you would have to know their humor to get it!?!
My eyes are adapting to the darkness, or so I’ve been telling myself. Out of my own peculiar placement of priorities only one of my four kaza lights is working. I learned to walk from the lodge, open my door, make coffee, pee, brush my teeth and I’ve almost mastered shaving in pure black darkness.
Living rural is pretty much the same. You adapt. The process of adaption is not easy but the end result is. You scalp yourself and grow sea legs, sun skin, dedication and a guard for loneliness. I got so used to this style of living that it became normality, a real and pretty slice of life. The sun is my light, the sea my grocery store and the lagoon my bath.
I managed to get a reason to travel three hundred kilometers to Pemba in working hours the end of the month, and I’ll be staying a few days. It will…
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