Tuesday, 11 October 2005


So there was some petrol, but not lots. Enough food to keep us going, but hardly any vegetables. Scurvy approaches. At the first service station we tried, the pump attendant refused to fill our spare jerrycan. I can understand putting a limit per person so that people aren't stockpiling the fuel and going mental, but one 20 litre can for one vehicle hardly seems excessive. Johnson, who is normally chill personified, shouted at the attendant. "What, you think we all live in towns? How are we supposed to get fuel?" At the next service station they are not bothered; they're filling a lot of cans.

But it's doubtful the ambulance and clinic crew will be doing outreach work this week as the ministry has been unable to deliver their fuel supplies.

The Husband has just come from a very depressing meeting with the Community HIV/AIDS counsellors. So many women walking miles to the tarmac every day to work as prostitutes to the truck drivers. They have no way of earning income and not enough food. The women have been left widowed, gaggles of orphans piled into their small houses. AIDS is not just a disease which could be cured if people cared enough; it's a situation. I have no real desire to debate the issue of prostitution, but it seems to me like it should be a choice, and when it's not that's a problem. And what of the truck drivers? Adding to the problem, or helping the women out with money? Using condoms? Doubtful. Our Food Programme already covers a massive amount of people, but it's never enough.

Another senior manager here is about to be sacked for corruption.

I just read a geographical magazine, full of photographs of landfills. Beeyoodifull.

There is a possiblity of house-sitting for some people in town who are going abroad for a while. It's tempting - they have satellite TV and a swimming pool. Not to mention electricity and running water, aircon etc. I think they may even have a washing machine.

An Irishman has won the Booker. Hurrah.

A parcel has arrived full of books and chocolate. I am going to go bury my head in the sand. I may be some time.