Nyumbani

Where the grumpy old man lives now, is where he first settled in Dar ten years ago, after an initial period of living in the infamous Smokies. He came back just over a year ago - out of nostalgia I think, - on finding it to let at a time when he was looking to move away from the gruelling daily drive into town from Mbezi. The house is in a compound of four, originally built for Italian workers. The common factor between now and ten years ago is that one of our neighbours has an African Grey parrot. However the present bird only squawks - the previous one's partypiece was to awaken you with a phone call; only after you had stumbled blearily eyed downstairs did you realise you had been conned once again! Our immediate neighbour has a two year old who has just reached the prattling stage, and it is great to hear her constant chatter; she seems quite a character. For some reason the families with children who have lived in this compound previously when we have been there, have always had what I would consider unnaturally "good" children-not something I have had much experience of.
What I like particularly this time is the garden. It never previously seemed to be plant friendly: there were a number of trees, frangi pani and coconut palms, but even grass didn't seem to get a hold on the red laterite soil which is very infertile. Last year the GOM had some trellises put up to mask the huge black plastic watertanks which were an eyesore. He planted some ornamental bananas on one trellis and passionfruit plants on another by our veranda. the bananas are gone without trace but the passionfruits are taking over the world. All I have to do now is negotiate a modus vivendi with the night guards so that they don't take all the fruit before I get a share. There is absolutely no more blissful taste experience than eating a sunwarmed passionfruit straight off the vine. Eating six however, as I did the other day does funny things to your digestive system.
Part of the world the passion fruit was taking over involved clinging to the burglar bars of the study window before climbing up to the balcony outside our bedroom. The study is not naturally a light room, but the profuse greenery made it extremely gloomy. Its original purpose was as a food store: the mind boggles to think how much canned and bottled stuff the Italians thought they needed to survive in Tz, requiring a room about 10'x12' to keep it all in. I assumed the (for me) unusual role of gardener and removed all the vines from the window. Unfortunately that meant cutting off the ones from our balcony as well, thus removing the pleasent idea of strolling out from the bedroom and helping myself to a fruit first thing in the morning. However they are not to be beaten- the first tendrils are already curling around the window bars again