The theme of the month seems to boil down to 'tummy troubles'. Every time I thought things were better - they weren't. Nothing terrible, just not right.
It all ended with a 3 day toast fast, topped off by a meal of Monitor Lizard. Guess what? Monitor lizard tastes and looks just like 'chicken'. My reminiscences of Terry Wogan fell totally flat. Two of the dinner guests were too young to appreciate his wit and charm. The other was Canadian!
|Spot the little lizard foot. (Look away if you are a vegetarian)|
One of my 'Principles of Eating Meat', is that it does not look remotely like it did when it was alive. The only exception to that rule is Seafood. Although, I do struggle a little with staring into the face of a dead prawn!
Unfortunately, monitor lizard stew was a little too close for comfort. When the provider of the meal announced that we could see the photos of it, before it was dispatched, there was vehement rejection of the offer. Maybe afterwards, she proposed. Maybe. Maybe not! Needless to say, consuming Monitor lizard for tea or any other meal, is going onto the 'Once in a Lifetime' list of experiences to be had by Me.
My stomach strangely didn't rebel too much with the offering. I think the 3 days of toast had taught it a bit of lesson.
However, my stomach did react very strongly when I offered it 2 week old chicken curry. Well it was it's own fault. It's messing around meant I'd lost a week in my thinking. I thought the curry was only one week old. It only smelt a week old! It tasted fine! But......it didn't stay long in the system.
There has actually been more to my life than the rumblings of my errant stomach. I've had the joy of bonding with a new set of Johnson puppies. There we all were, two 5 year olds, a 6 year old and me, cuddling puppies. And who is it that drops one? Me!
Well, I'd found a flea and was determinedly squishing it between my finger nails! Unfortunately, I failed to notice the 3 week old puppy wobble off the edge of my lap. Donk! What a noise it let out. Was I embarrassed? Yes. Puppy had to be removed from Mrs Liz's dubious care, by a more responsible 5 year old.
The other great thing about my weekly trip to the Johnson's (well apart from the food, frappachinos and family) is that I have been getting a weekly trip on the back of a motorcycle. This week when I got off at home, I could stand up and my legs didn't ache. Because this week I hadn't been holding on tightly with every muscle possible. My fingers were a little cramped from gripping the rear hold-on thingies. I'm still not able to fold my arms and look nonchalant, like most of the Burundian women we pass. But I'm working on that!
I am beginning to notice a very small improvement in my understanding of Kirundi. Whilst at lunch with a colleague, I heard her 4 year old daughter say something to her that I actually recognised. It was something along the lines of, 'Mama, uru musi, hari abazungu benshi mwishuri.'
After a bit of a ponder, I got it sussed. 'Mum there were lots of white people in school today!' Oh joy, I understood something.
I also sorted another issue I've been having. The word for dog is imbga. No problem, I hear you say. Well, I always want to insert a bit of a 'ber' into my 'bg'. So when I want to say dog, I often find myself saying something that sounds like 'imberga'. So as we sat eating lunch, the children ate theirs on the kitchen floor
ikirago (mat)). For just a minute I wondered why my friend was urging her children to eat their 'dogs'.
Then I remembered that the word, imboga, means vegetable. Imbga v Imboga, a small but important difference!
I'm at that age where I am easily confused. Igihoko - does it mean wild animal or big chicken?! Agahoko - insect or small chicken?! My confusion knows no bounds some days.
Me in the process of making peace with my 'dropped' puppy!