As the climate here is very much like the middle of a British summer it’s easy to forget we’re 9 degrees north of the equator in sub-Saharan Africa. However seeing an iridescent sunbird with a long curved beak sucking the nectar out of the flowers atop a beautiful bluey-purple jacaranda tree just outside our bedroom window as I was dressing yesterday was a vivid reminder of where we actually are.

And down below me, parked just outside our block of flats, I could see our Ford pickup - in the back of which lies a discarded windscreen. The vehicle needed servicing this week and Henock, our new wonderful mechanic, took me rather literally when I asked him to leave me any parts he replaced. So in addition to the bag of old oil, air and fuel filters he also left me the old windscreen. A large and spreading crack (the origin of which remains a mystery) necessitated its replacement, but the fact that a new one was in place was fairly obvious, without retaining the old one. I’m now trying to work out where I dump it. I can’t take it to the massive city dump - it’s been closed and is now gently smoking as it has caught fire and given its size it will probably continue to do so for years to come. The huge new state-of-the-art rubbish-to-electricity converting plant is slowly taking shape next to this 10-metre-high massive expanse of smouldering detritus.

I noticed the goings-on at the city dump as I was driven past it this week on my way to spend the day doing a clinic at a centre for handicapped children; mostly with Down’s syndrome. It was a great day – not only for the medical care I could provide for both the children and the staff, but also as I spent time with a team from the USA finding out what they think of Trump and Clinton. I think that situation is far more challenging that whether or not the UK leaves the EU. Living in an international community can be politically fascinating. Several of my American friends won’t know who to vote for if the choice is Clinton (who they think of as an evil lying deceiver) or Trump (well we all know about him!) A bit like being asked to choose between Nigel Farage and Rupert Murdoch in the UK I suppose.

As we passed the dump I couldn’t help but notice how light the traffic was for that time in the morning. It was the second day of a three-day strike by minivan taxi drivers, who are upset about some new laws soon to be introduced that could result in them losing their licence for months at a time. The previous day (Monday) I had to drive my pickup to HQ in the morning so Henock could take it for its service, and as there were no minivan taxis the traffic was very light– although there were thousands of people milling around all over the place trying to find a way to travel. Several dedicated employees of both Bingham and HQ walked for an hour or more to get to work. The third day of the strike was a public holiday (celebrating Menelik II’s victory over the Italians at the battle of Adwa in 1896) so on Wednesday there was no-one around anyway. (A bit like the London Underground going on strike on Christmas Day – perhaps not the most effective way of inconveniencing the public to make a point).

In a city where no motorcyclists wear helmets, where people, donkeys, sheep, goats and bulls wander around in the streets, where no-one knows how to drive around roundabouts and where major junctions are constant mayhem the new laws make fascinating reading. There is a complicated points system, and when you get to “14 -16 points” you lose your licence for 6 months and have to have “rehabilitation training”. (Which is it – 14, 15 or 16 points? Who knows. Reminds me of the inspection report on my clinic. One criterion was “the clinic must have a minimum of 12 rooms”. We have 8 rooms. The inspector ticked “partially met”.) Some of the offences are as follows (from “The Reporter” newspaper): “…honking horn in improper places (two points), parking a vehicle on entry or exit locations (three points), putting fuel in the presence of passengers (four points), not fastening seat belts including those of passengers (four points), releasing excess exhaust fumes and smokes from cars (four points), playing loud music (five points), inappropriate passing over of a vehicle (six points), and not giving priority to pedestrians (seven points).” So as long as I keep my horn under control, park carefully, chuck all my passengers out in petrol stations, wear a seatbelt, don’t smoke too much, turn my music down, overtake correctly and give way to pedestrians I’ll be fine. I’m also likely to be permanently stationery. (By the way, the newspaper article quotes the leader of the economically named “South Wollo Zone Road Traffic Department Road Safety Assurance Core Main Work Process” department.)

Finally, two quick medical things.

Firstly I learned a new treatment for a headache this week (as pretty much everyone in Addis has a headache pretty much all the time this is very helpful) – get two pieces of tissue, soak them in alcohol and stick them in your ears. Works a treat.

Secondly Chris learned something from our Amharic teacher, knowledge of which in the UK could put many a plastic surgeon out of business. In asking her what the Amharic for “tadpole” is (It’s “ye wooha enat” - “water mothers”) she was told that out in the country people like to get tadpoles to bite their pubescent girls’ nipples, as apparently this will ensure that they will subsequently develop large breasts.