Saturday and Sunday

A surprisingly quiet night; I know, because in spite of the silence, I still lay awake through most of it, until 4.50 when as loud as you please some bouncy gospel music started blaring out from across the field. I really can’t work it out. It was certainly one in the eye for the call to prayer, though. He started up about 10 minutes later and I could barely hear him. I really like the soulful and slightly haunting tones of the call to prayer and if I could have found the source of that bouncy, bassy, gospel schmaltz, I’d have cut his wires.

Kelvin, a pupil from Shangani school, came round this afternoon. He is quiet, conscientious and clearly enterprising. I set him up with an email account and then on Facebook and then he came with us to the beach. Naively I thought he wanted our company and to practise his English. In fact he wanted me to take a series of photos of him, looking cool and macho, to load up on to his Facebook profile. The long Christmas holiday is fast looming and Kelvin for one is looking forward to travelling to Arusha. He will spend three weeks there. He has invited us, but we’ll see.

Probably the highlight of Saturday afternoon for me was snorkelling with Philippe, who I met on the beach with his family. He took me out at low tide to a deep channel where we saw the real beauty of the coral and the amazing array of coloured fish, sea urchins, jelly fish, even a huge turbot. I felt like Jacques Cousteau.

Mass this morning and the twelve collection boxes were explained – one box for each of twelve districts within the Parish. We are supposed to give to St John the Baptist. 7.00am Mass was packed. It took me back to childhood with ushers finding spare seats for latecomers and directing the congregation at Communion. Almost as long as Mass was the announcement at the end of Mass, of the broadcast scheduled for next week by Radio Maria, the national Catholic radio  station. Apparently the show will be broadcast live from Francis’ house next Sunday evening and we along with other Catholics in College should be there. He’s going to have to move the enormous fridge and TV from his living room if there’s to be room for us. He’s also better tell the Bursar to do something about his roosters and the other tutors about their goats; otherwise the broadcast is going to sound like Farming Today, rather than Songs of Praise.