August - the month before the beginning of the end of the year

I’m slowly getting a grip back on things and I note the changes, changes in me more than anything for such a reality check leaves its mark. I appreciate my apartment space more than ever and have rediscovered music CDs that I haven’t listened to since Mexico days. Thank goodness I have them with me as without TV reception, the DVD and TV set are poised to play whatever I have on hand. I also have all the recorded material I purchased at the Ayurveda / Yoga conference last year. Not only is it instructive, but also healing to the soul and calming to the mind.

Getting about has become somewhat difficult particularly when the weather turns. It was great walking from the hotel to my office but now I am on the other side of town. The university car that picked me up and dropped me off in the first month or so is no longer operable which means I have to take a ‘moto-taxi’ – those motorbikes that shuffle people everywhere. You get used to them after a while but there’s no ease when you need to dress appropriately for work, possibly walk into town, carry a backpack of necessary whatever for the day, all while endeavouring not to overheat. And when it rains - it’s now officially the rainy season – well, it’s impossible to get around. I simply move to plan B – stay at home, read, do whatever and wait until the rain eases.

My apartment is on the third (top) floor of the building. The ceiling is non-insulated and the roof is corrugated iron. When the heavens open, all I hear is a muted thunderous sound blocking out all other sounds – impossible to listen to the radio or to music. I would describe it as like living in a tin shed with the edge taken off the strident noise of the rain on the roof. But then, this is a dry area and there are only a couple of months of rain and I have yet to experience what the month of August brings in terms of downpours. But the cement distribution centre opposite partly floods as does the road while the water gives new life to plants and trees which give off a delectable fresh smell. Even the rocky outcrop in the distance becomes green – quite impressive in the barren landscape of a month or so ago.

In town, there are always people wherever you go. You simply can’t enjoy the personal space that you enjoy on a daily basis in Australia. That’s why the home space is so important to me – it represents that personal space that you don’t get elsewhere. And the markets are always busy if not crowded but in many cases, they’re the only places to buy what you need. The upside of people concentration are the surprising finds you make along the way – like the avocado and banana vendor on the roadside on the way home or the omelette maker down the road from the university. He makes omelettes in a well-worn pan over a small fire on the ground fuelled with sticks, and sells bread and tea. You can sit down at his food stand and enjoy the shade of the tree and the breeze that does flow when in an open space.