Do not adjust your sets ... this is indeed an update.
Not a very exciting update, perhaps, but an update none the less.
Why, I hear you cry, have you been shirking your blogging responsibilities? What about us (read 'me') your reading public. We've been champing at the bit and yearning for words of wisdom and excitement as to your goings on. Some bon mots on the whys wherefores and whatevers of your crazy, fly by the seat of your pants life.
Alas, I wish my life was like that. At the moment I am stuck in a peculiar limbo between being here and not being here. I have things that I must do interspersed with periods of mind-numbing tedium, themselves interspersed with periods of thrills, spills and the excitement to which I had become accustomed. Those, alas, are too few and far between.
The 'not being here' aspect has been finalised and now I just wait, with the baited breath of proverbial fame, to find out a little bit more than I know at the moment, which is not much. I know that on the 2nd of March 2007 I will be boarding a plane to Cameroon. Where in Cameroon I don't know.
What I do know is that I am currently the proud owner of an innocuous bout of yellow fever as well as diphtheria (and no, there aren't too many 'h's), tetanus and polio ... who needs class A's when you've got the beginnings of a pandemic?
From what I've been told I believe that I am going to be living in a village of approximately 5,000 people, teaching in their secondary school and educating them in the ways and means of English, HIV and AIDS and also teaching their teachers a little bit of how to teach. Godola's the name, Maroua's the nearest big town and if you google earth the latter, I'm destined to be approximately 10km to it's east; that's to say the area of google earth that is uncharted ...
While I twiddle my thumbs in anticipation of training courses to tell me how to cope with change, how to work in development, how to teach teachers and how not to contract any number of curiously named afflictions that would win a game of Scrabble in one move, I find myself speaking to the local paper and begging people to sponsor me for one of any number of daft undertakings.
In other words, there's not a lot going on, and if there is it's happening slowly. I'm torn between wanting time to fly and not wanting it to pass at all. Not all of it that is. This beige, wishy washy and generally tofu-esque state I find myself in at the moment can get knotted quite frankly, but then the week after next can slow down, as can the new year and January, and then February too ... life though, being what it is, means that the obverse will be true and the in between bits will drag and the excitement filled parts will fly by with scant regard for me ...