No luckily it’s not a Potter Pals pipe bomb, but a faulty water pump right outside my bedroom window that continues to irritate me throughout the night. After, several attempts to ignore the repetitive eeeeeeekkk..............eeeeeekkkkkk, I went down to reception, and attempted to explain in French about the mystérieuse du bruit à retardement. (Thanks google translate) Well, when I told the guys at reception my room number they gave each other a knowing glance, which to me indicated this was not the first time someone has told them about this noise, and said they would duly come up to hear said noise. Which they did. It was still ongoing, as previously described.
Apparently the noise was a faulty water pipe and should only be heard when someone is running water, but there was nothing they could do then, as people might need water and they would call a technician tomorrow.....thank god for ear plugs.
Now returning to the subject of food, when out in DRC there is a myriad of choices that you face each day: Do you want ice in your drink? Can you really eat the salad? Now, by boss who has been here 2 years readily eats salad, ice etc from the places we have eaten. This makes me think against everything I have read and been told, that it would be OK to do so and follow suit. So last night when served my sandwich there was a layer of lettuce stacked between the bread. The usual travellers mindset kicked in- where was it grown? Had it been washed in tap water? Had it even been washed at all? The horror!
Now I’ve never understood what it would be like to have OCD, but this is giving me a glimpse, and it must be exhausting. All these scenarios, running around in your head trying to make the trade off between getting any of your 5 a day, or the cool refreshingness of an ice cold drink, and the risk of the next morning finding that your intestines are trying to make a bid for freedom. It’s a delicate tight rope to walk. But full bravery or stupidity – I ate the lettuce – and this morning I’m fine. Result.
Not only was I fine but after work today I went with my boss for a 5km run around what is known as “the embassies” a circular run that takes it’s name from the numerous embassies that you pass along the way, including the British, Chinese, German and Iranian, to name just a few. It also runs along the river front with a great view of Brazzavile on the Congolese side.
However, I definitely underestimated how hard it is to run in the heat, even at 7pm when the sun has almost set, it’s hot here and I swear it was more like 8km than 5km by the redness of my face and the amount of perspiration leaving my body- just the impression of me my new boss needed- hey ho! So am now treating myself to a medicinal G&T whilst I ponder what to have for dinner, and an early night- so long as the mysterious ticking noise by some miracle is fixed.
Fingers crossed!
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