Even in this era of social networks and real-time interaction options with friends faraway, I still find myself struggling to keep in touch with those I would really like to. It’s either email OR the (often hopeless) hope that they follow you on twitter and respond. The first option I’m not very well known for making good use of, while the second many of my friends don’t seem to be making use of! There is something called Facebook but that seems to be for those with lots of time for such things. Anyway, in a long-winded way, what I am trying to say is I am not particularly good at keeping in touch or at using the most populous social network. Nonetheless, once in a while I do think of friends, particularly those who live faraway and with whom the only way of communicating is via these online technologies.
As the title of this post suggests, the Witts are in my thought tonight, and the first part of the title gives you the clue as to what triggered it! In fact I even googled the recipe for my own red kidney beans with garlic and ginger (which I remember the Witts had on their website) to make it exactly the way i used to when I was living in Vancouver. Sadly, I couldn’t find it, or should I say the mighty google couldn’t locate it, not even on its cache! Anyway, although it might have varied slightly from my Vancouver version, I am preparing red kidney beans with garlic and ginger tonight, and hoping it goes nicely with whole wheat chapatis (or tortilla if you will). And of course I’ll be thinking of the Witts and the potlucks we used to have at theirs in my Vancouver era living! This one to you Mr Witt & family, I hope all is well across the pond and beyond the mountains!
After spending years since leaving Nepal more than 11 years ago not really celebrating dashain, the Nepali festival that celebrates the victory of good over evil, now I’ve started looking forward to it every year. It gives me a very good excuse to visit my sister, and my two little neices. Despite being only a few hours away, the nature and pace of life in these parts of the world means I hardly get the time to see them much. Even the daily phonecalls can’t really make up for being with them in person. This year’s added bonus was that the main day of dashain fell on Sunday, so I had a great family weekend without having to worry about work, emails to respond to or deadlines to meet or to avoid missing.
Now on the Monday morning I’m hurrying back to home, and to work, experiencing my first ever “commute”, which I’m not liking at all. Living at a walking distance to work is certainly the best thing, sometimes I even go home for lunch from work 
Finding it hard now to write much from a phone on a moving train so I’ll stop here. The image above is the ‘nelson’s ship in a bottle’ on the Trafalgar square’s fourth plinth.
Something I wrote earlier this year in Ghana – inspired by D’s “staring at the ceiling fan and remembering someone” dialogue 
While others might think if they should hang themselves by their ceiling fan at times of desperation, he is always worried about the ceiling fan dropping on to him while he sleeps on his queen-sized bed below it. So obviously he doesn’t contemplate hanging himself by the fan, for he knows it wouldn’t take his weight and he would just make a fool of himself. He doesn’t know why the room hasn’t got just a single bed in it, which he could have moved to a corner away from the fan but it wasn’t his house, nor was it his decision to furnish it.
The fan has to be kept running all night else he wouldn’t be able to sleep, one thing he can sleep with is the low humming noise of the fan, everything else would have woken him up, but not his fan; as if its humming is his lullaby. But still he is probably subconsciously aware even in his sleep that the fan might drop on to him spinning its blades at mid-level rotation. And its no wonder that he pushes everything on to the side directly below the fan and lies himself on the other edge. If he was sleeping like this during his childhood, he would definitely have fallen over from the bed, but he is an adult now and his body is probably used to being on the edge – edge of the bed to start with, but also edge of the relations and relationships, edge of the society, edge of the country, edge of this world even.
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1. “You’re looking healthy” he says. I respond “its Africa”, meaning its all to do with spending half the year in nice warm climate and in a lot relaxed atmosphere. But then I’m thinking “I must have looked FAT” for him to comment that I’m looking “healthy” – quintessentially belayeti comment I would say, polite and diplomatic. I must start going for a run every morning and/or evening now. I wouldn’t want to be commented upon with statements like “you look well-fed”!
2. Oh, and I’ve finally found a place I liked and the person already living there liked me too it seems, for I’ve moved in to my new abode last night and the unpacking has begun. Was thinking of taking some pictures of my messy room to put up here but totally forgot in a rush to get to office before lunch (will try and do that tonight, if i don’t forget again that is!), to prepare for the meeting that I have in 50 minutes time, but I couldn’t help post this “update” in here as I haven’t posted anything new for ages, and I’m tired of blog-hopping, while wishing I could also blog as regularly as some of the blogs that I frequent!
3. Now I must get back and prepare for my meeting. Will try to post a bit thoughtful entries once I fully settle in to my new place – the one that is sure to provide environment to think with its home-made wine, and fresh produce from the allotments (and yea I’ve promised to get my hands dirty as well – haven’t worked on gardens for ages, it should be fun!).
4. Now a picture from Africa (couldn’t help posting one!)
Accra at night
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