(D has just announced that it is weird that I write a blog, like a phantom pregnancy, phantom communications to my fantasy friends – as we are completely free of any form of internet connection. Well I am preparing for the day when we will have communication, safe in the knowledge that communication matters and I will somehow upload my carefully pre-prepared word document to the web- bugger him!)
In all I spent a month away from D in UK – after only 3 months of marriage and some people thought that strange. I didn’t it was necessary and healthy and re-aligning and all sorts. (In fact 3 months on and 1 month off might be the perfect marriage!) But I did miss him a great deal and wonder a lot how he was doing without me – (secretly hoping not far better, having slipped back into blissful bachelor hood!)
Leaving him was really hard and I thought my new wifely nagging would at least impress the need to communicate – a bit, ideally every day but at least a bit. Well there were 3 stretches of 5 days of silence, not even any of his half-hearted strange texts, nothing! (If he had been on the front line in Afghanistan I am sure he would be enforced to communicate more with his wife...) So I set off to get the plane again in one of these communication voids. I know Mareja resides in a near black hole of communication, however, there is the cashew tree and it does always have a bar of hope (and reception) if you are prepared to wait and, often more than not, three bars.
Sitting in Nairobi airport after I had successfully picked up the tarpaulin curtains/wall for the new guest rooms and was trying to sleep on a very uncomfy chair, my phone rang. It was D and a quick hello and confirmation of my time of arrival, then he was gone again - he was at the cashew tree (and at least a 3 hour drive away). You see it is possible to communicate with me when he wants to.
We are delayed a bit and then aboard LAM (Mozambiquan airlines) I meet Steve a nice Missionary and eat a strange meat sandwich and am doused by yet more over zealous aeroplane air conditioning. But we arrive and I am greeted by warm Pemba air and the usual confusing queue system – I don’t see a waving D anywhere. I get through the visa control and now wait and wait and wait for my huge amount of exciting luggage. It finally comes and I push through a mass of people successfully past the sort of customs control and there is D in the dark. Oh how lovely it is to see him, he is so much better in the flesh, it seems that all his communication energies are reserved for breathing and being.
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