Random fun times leading up to the marathon:
Surprise birthday cake in the oven:
Tent city:
Surprise!!!
Sunday, July 5th,
Well they have finally gone. All my friends. Even Fridah is away doing the shopping coincidentally. The field is just a field. I watched the truck drive away and at the last minute tried to snap a picture. All that I captured was the dust rising off the dirt road after the “cono cono” truck had passed. “The snail” they called it because it moved so slowly.
The week of marathon aftermath went by so quickly. Everyone catching up on all the work that had been back-burnered. The crew packing packing packing up all the tents and equipment. They left in groups, unending goodbyes stretching out over the whole weekend, until today, Sunday. The day I sat on a couch in the middle of the field and basked in the sun, by a dying fire, reading and watching helplessly as the last 5 men packed truckload upon truckload back to the locker. I gave up my seat and watched from my tent as they hauled the sofa up onto the roof of the cono cono. Actually it took two attempts, the first one ending disastrously when the rope snapped and the wooden furniture crashed down, banging one man on the head. He laughed when he showed me the bump, so it wasn’t as bad as it sounds…
Packing up:
Saying goodbye:
The original crew:
The final load:
Me:
The cono cono rounding the bend - bye bye!
After the dust in the road settled, I turned around and looked over the field. My field. My home for the next two months. Alone. The monkeys had moved in the day earlier seeing as most of the people were gone. I took a few snaps of them eating from the taka taka, looking desperately from me to the pile of trash, ready for me to run at them, but eating as much as they could until the last moment. I walked past. Beautiful blue shiny birds were pecking away at the ground, at the ashes of the fireplace, finding goodies invisible to my eyes. And my newest neighbours, mongooses. Mongeese? Lots of ‘em running around ignoring the monkeys and also feasting.
The monkeys were happy as Larry that everyone was gone and had left so much good garbage. I wandered over to the dining room where two monkeys jumped off the table as they heard me coming. It was covered in piss and dirt. I looked at the kitchen tent flap and noticed it was open. I swear I remembered closing it, but I guess I hadn’t. Luckily the chicken wire door was shut fast, and no little buggers had gotten in – that would’ve been a nightmare.
So the monkeys are happy, how about me? I had felt for a second that I might shed a tear as the truck pulled away, and I stood alone, waving, probably looking a bit pathetic in my field. But then I also sort of felt a release. Making a whole bunch of new friends is tiring. Are you really yourself, when you are still in the honeymoon phase of friendship? I should hope so, but it still takes effort.
I know for sure that I want to start exercising, singing out loud, and maybe practicing belly-dance again. The only creatures watching me now are my furry and feathered friends.
And the staff housing is right there, but they take literally no interest in me. Haven’t for a month, why start now? I suppose, because I know myself, that I will at some point invite myself over to the staff area and wander about looking for new friends. But for now the prospect of vast amount of personal space is both daunting and liberating. You have to live each moment as it comes.
My field:
