Life in the Big House

No, I am not in jail. It does feel a little like that though with new bars on windows, new steel grills on 3 doors (see photo), and new deadbolts. But the “Big House” is just what the staff call my house in comparison to their house, referred to as “the quarters” (also pictured). I did not adopt those names; in fact, they make me feel just slightly, sickeningly, uncomfortable. But, what can you do? Blog therapy!

Anyway, the welders, electricians, painters, internet guys, and locksmiths have been in and out of my house for a week. In theory, they will finish most everything on Monday (but they said that last Monday). My washer is finally hooked up, but I did it myself, so I am too afraid to use it. The electrician finished installing my stove today so I can stop my 7-days-of-cereal diet (who knew ovens/stoves did NOT come with a plug in Malawi???). The internet is obviously working, and it is fast enough for Skype (hint). Surprisingly, nothing seems to have gone missing, unless you count my sanity --that evaporated days ago.

Highlights of the new house:

· I am now responsible for 12 people: 1 housekeeper and her family of 5 live in the “quarters”; 5 Black Ninjas guard my home (a reference to the uniform, not skin, of the guard company), including 3 rotating night guards and 2 day guards; and 1 gardener.
· I have an electric fence that ticks like a metronome when it functions correctly. It malfunctioned my first 3 nights, waking me with alarm sirens at random times throughout the night in full panic mode. It seems to be working fine. For now.
· I had coffee on my porch this morning with the company of this gorgeous bird on the near tree branch, a Livingston Turaco! Helped me take a deep breath and smile.
· The dogs are happy (and tired out) in their palatial paradise, reveling in their added good fortune of meat bones flung everywhere from the previous tenants and the roving carnivorous guards. I give them carrots, which they also like.

I’ll post some photos of the inside when I put some stuff away and have a little furniture to make it look less like a convent. Likely, that will have to wait for Jon. For my mental health I am officially on domestic strike.