The sun is shining and there’s not a cloud in the sky. I’m on a jog around the school cross country track. Small brightly coloured birds similar to finches wait until the last moment to fly from the path. There is an evocative smell of pine as a gardener trims the fir hedge by the car park. I wave to the noisy children in the open stairwell of the school next door and admire the orange tropical flowers that seem to have been blooming constantly in the garden I’m passing through. The jacaranda tree is now covered in purple flowers and a stunning sight as it sways gently in the breeze.

Mushrooms

We’ve been celebrating Christmas for nigh on a month. Term ended on 19th December, and in the run up to this Chris had inevitably been heavily involved in a school Christmas play. We had various celebrations including a huge “gibsha” (feast) for all the ex-pat and Ethiopian staff at Bingham, attended by a couple of hundred people – out on the school field of course, in the lovely warm sunshine. It was traditional Ethiopian food followed by a coffee ceremony; no turkey – there’re aren’t any in this country. (I chatted about turkeys to Haile and when he looked puzzled I showed him a  picture of a turkey. He laughed loudly. Live full-feathered turkeys do look ridiculous don’t they?) Neither were there any mushrooms – unlike in our apartment.