Storm clouds gather in paradise
I lie in bed all day, feeling sorry
for myself; imprisoned in a mosquito net, escaping once
an hour to visit the pit toilet which has become my second
home. My last meal was twenty four hours ago. I won't be
eating anything like that again.
Matthew is irritable. The heat is
too much for him and he's got impetigo, a skin infection
which is furiously itchy. He's hungry too. The food is not
to his liking so he's lived on bread and water for the past
two days. Probably just as well given my condition.
Cameron is upset at his brother.
He won't play nicely with him and has given him impetigo.
He resists my every attempt to tend his red and blistering
sores. I must force the treatment upon him to prevent it
getting much worse. Neither of us like that.
Kirstie is feeling very alone. She's
in isolation, avoiding all the rest of us for fear she catches
something we cannot treat because of her pregnancy. The
heat is draining her energy and her belly will not fit in
the only pair of trousers she has left. Although she cannot
come near us, she worries about us. There's nothing else
After six and a half months on the
road, for the first time I really miss home and wonder whether
we should cut this whole crazy venture short and head home
where we can lie in our own beds, eat food we know and trust,
have a nice hot shower, catch up with all our friends, and
live like a normal family.