I had panicked about going Olive Picking - in Oxford consumed by thoughts of fund-raising, networking with researchers, shopping for 40amp fuses and shower heads. And sent Chris an email explaining my fragmented mind and low funds. He very sweetly insisted saying it would provide a rest and break from the all consuming world of Mareja and Mozambique.
I do go (it is quite spectacularly wonderful see later blog) and as day four approached I realised I had done nothing but talk of the place...talk talk. Oh my word it is a trap, the combination of a dried mind and kind interested clever people who see my life as exotic and different. I think my social skills have rusted with increased humidity and too much time in the wilds - the wheels of light-hearted banter or even deep considered insightful commentary have all but stopped. I found yet more stories Moz-style spilling out – when all I wanted to do was learn of the latest restaurants and new artists and gossip on the high street.
Anyway the sound of my rusty voice spurred me on to...try for god sake to improve my social skills AND write a BLOG. That way my darling friends and family can dip in if they wonder what I am up to. And when they do not wonder be left in blissful silence! And then when I manage to catapult myself back into the urbanised northern hemisphere I can talk of them and their lives and all else that I have missed.
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