Haunted House

Umn...

So, yeah...

You've seen Amityville, right?

Jo and Zubadoo came over last night. We had a nice, relaxing time. Zuba's decided we're going to grow a Crunchy Nut Cornflake tree on the vegetable plot. That might prove profitable as they retail for around £9 a pack in Nakumatt (right next to the £5 mini tub of Marmite and the £12 standard size).

So, Jo was in the loo attending to Zuba, and I was standing outside the door talking to her. Ever since I moved in, I've noticed there's an extreme temperature difference in this part of the corridor. You're walking along, suddenly it's like you're having a hot flush. 

I felt this warm draft blow over me and, for the first time, looked up.

There is a really, really creepy hole in the ceiling. You can see right up to the rafters. That's why it felt so warm there, because the heat from the tin roof was radiating down.

I called to Jo, and we stared up at it for a moment, a little weirded out.

I said something like 'I wish they'd boarded that up,' then pointed out the crack in the toilet door, which I need to get a poster to put over.

"The Attic Man's peephole," she whispered.

Thanks, Jo! Seriously, thank you very much. I'm never going to sleep again.

None of this was helped by Zuba doing her three-year-old's impression of 'I see dead people.' Skipping around the living room, eyes all wild, staring at things that aren't there and running across the garden after her mummy shouting 'no no no no no' as though being chased.

Hmmmm.

I had just traumatised her with Beauty and the Beast, it's pretty dark I guess. Disney always scared the jeepers out of me, maybe for different reasons.

You're laughing by this point, I can tell.

Well, things got progressively un-funny.

Long story short, there was a gas fiasco. Lovely taxi man, Alfred, took my old bottle away and brought me a new one this morning. Thought Damascene was coming back after closing the gate, he didn't. I had a shopping list, so I wandered out to look for him, and found myself airborne.

That's right, I threw myself - quite spectacularly - down the porch steps.

If I'd known I was going to do it today, I would have shaved my legs for the camera.

Suffice to say, leg hair is the least of my problems at the moment. It's hard to kneel down for a bucket bath when you don't have any knees.

Can't remember the last time I tried to skin myself alive, and no idea what happened to my feet between the top step and the bottom. Picked myself up, dusted myself down, just as Damascene opened the gate. Rather relieved he wasn't there to witness that indelicate descent.

Put a bit of a dampener on my day, as I was going to town to buy some bedding and a water filter. After a little while I figured I could still walk, bandaged myself up, and decided to continue with my plans.

Only, I lost my wallet.

I took everything apart. You've never seen someone unpack a house so fast. Turned the bedding inside out, shook my suitcase across the floor, scoured every room - twice. 

Eventually, I used the St. Anthony trick (thanks Cathryn). Works every time.

Where was my wallet?

In my computer case, of course. Where else would it be?

All of this bad luck in one day. It's the curse of the Attic Man.

This place is haunted!

I've been trying to offset it with some feng shui. I've rearranged the office.

Put all three books that I own on the shelf...

I don't think I've ever owned so few books...

...and Friday Buddha from Lao. That's got to keep creepiness at bay, right?

Plus, I found this stuffed down the back of the bookshelf. It's either something from the Quran, and therefor a blessing, or it's an ancient curse, and that's why I fell down the steps. 

I'm taking my chances.

Finally made it into town. Life without a tape measure can be hard (can't find one anywhere, Jo's promised to give me one of her surplus). Bought the very biggest set of sheets, pillow cases and a duvet that was on offer... got home. Both look like doll's clothes on my giant bed. Thankfully Nakumatt do a 7-day return, and I have a meeting near there on Tuesday.

On the up side, I did manage to find a water filter. Got all creative when I got home. It's like a giant, shiny Kinder Egg, with all these bits inside that you have to assemble.

Need to let a couple of loads go through to let the dust settle on the candles - which is easier said than done when you don't have any water. Still, what little water we do have will be cheaper filtered through this than buying bottles.

Getting on well with Damascene today. The language barrier is excruciating at times, but he does seem to be on top of things. He's changed all the broken lightbulbs today, fixed my VSO suggestions box lock, bought and fitted a new curtain for the bathroom (right size, first time! - More than I can say for my attempt at bed sheets), cleaned the house and done a little bit of gardening.

I'm impressed. He seems to be hard working, although he has an unfortunate habit of being out whenever I, or a friend, arrives by car. Once he was at the barber's, once getting food, and once buying washing powder. This is the difference between a night guard (who is there all evening to open gates and provide security - theoretically), and a live-in domestic, who has to find time to live occasionally.

Pierre came to pick Jo and Zuba up last night, and helped me out with a little translation. We've established 'quiet time' - no radio, loud talking or rigorous cleaning before acceptable o'clock. No friends wandering around the compound. No coming into the house before I'm up and I've opened the doors. I want to change this to 'do the housework when I'm out' but it's like a genie in a lamp. You have to think through your wishes very carefully before making them. For instance, I'm giving him Sundays off, but what if someone is coming on Monday and I need the house cleaned? Because we can't discuss anything in a common language, I need to be sure that what I tell him when the translator is here will work for me when they're not.

I'm also starting Kinya lessons on Thursday. I'm ashamed that I've been in this country so long and the best I can do is argue with a moto driver. Nothing particularly useful or polite. Having Damascene is rather an incentive to put some effort in.

Rounded up today by cooking us both omelet special (basically omelet with chips in it - don't ask). He did re-hang most of my curtains.