Things I am getting used to..

How quickly the strange becomes normal. I must capture the things that make me look twice....before I forget!

Taxis running out of fuel....twice this week. Learnt his lesson today & stopped to fill up with my fare money before leaving town!
Taxis also feeling like they might just fall apart on every bump...most of them have handles & bits missing.

The rubbish dump in the centre of town....just a massive heap which gets trawled through for plastic bottles. These are stacked up in huge nets for reuse. Our house rubbish I now realize gets put in a hole in the garden. We have a compost hole but still terrifying the waste we produce. Have at least converted our housekeeper to using our shopping bags instead of getting new plastic bags each time. Plastic is strewn everywhere here

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The stacks of chicken basket cages piled up by the rubbish dump.

The row of coffin makers next to the fish market....choice of regal purple covered or plain wood. They also make beautiful wooden beds.

The few Masai people selling their traditional wares ......elegant leather sandals & intricate beadwork.....need to sneak there on my own for some Xmas shopping. They themselves are taller, leaner, darker & elegant.

The feel of sweat slowly trickling off the backs of my knees.....no 'glowing' here!

The flour shops...each with small mill inside and sacks heaped along the store front.
Endless mobile phone kiosks...where you top up data.
The constant calls of bibi (miss) from the motorbike boys...all hoping you want a ride.
The ladies selling dried fish or deep frying chips on the top of barrels.

The sound of dawn...when the cacophony of bird & bat calls (which start at 5) get overtaken by the human onslaught of loud party music (who gets to choose, I want to know, it comes blasting from beyond the railway), motorbikes revving....all preceded by the mosque call at 4am. How the rest of my family sleep through it is astounding. 

The style of women's clothing.....so varied, according, I assume to religious background, though all fairly conservative. Fitted dresses (surely so hot) large floaty dresses (fear I would resemble a curtain) and then all the kangas (strips of cloth) which many wear over their skirts. Lots of head wear too. I am consumed by the desire to photograph all these every day details but I am wary of causing offence.

Dirty red feet...shoes or not...they are always filthy. The red dust is insidious..coating the floors and walls. We keep thinking of painting our rooms to freshen things up but I suspect they would rapidly revert to orange stained.

Tiny ants....eugh...I keep forgetting that the slightest hint of sugar and they arrive. If the bread is left on the side, or dregs of juice in a glass then  they are soon swarming.

Actually it seems there is still rather a lot which I am taking in...but now 3 weeks since our arrival.