Maybe tomorrow...

Easter here in Kenya this weekend. An Easter with no Eggs or Roast Lamb. Like Christmas without Santa.  Nonetheless I had a great long weekend. 

The majority of it was spent in Diani Beach on the South Coast. Diani is a goregous white sandy beach cut straight from a brochure complete with the beautiful tourquise ocean and a thick line of palm trees dancing in the refreshing sea breeze.

Our base camp for the few days was a fantastic beach bar called Fourty Thieves where we lounged on beach sofas, picniced and drunk (responisably of course).  The icing on the cake was a Sunday afternoon Afro-Fusion Music festival at Fourty which added a bit of divilment to the weekend.

Overall, it was a fun, relaxed, excellent few days.

Before all that tomfoolery was a Good Friday  devoted to preparing for my move to my new house. The house that I’ve been waiting for for 5 weeks now. The house that will be ready “in a week”, “on Tuesday”, “on Friday”, “by the first of April”, “definitely before Easter”  etc.

With builders menacingly hovering, I had misplaced confidence in the full-proof promise that I could move in on Easter Monday. I bought a barrage of cleaning material, moved bits and pieces in, a spent an hour or two cleaning.

When I returned from Diani on Monay I should not of been surprised to see the house still not ready. 

But I was tired.  So I was surprised.

Me to Kalumee, the Foreman  - “Jambo Kalumee, hope you had a good weekend? I’m moving my stuff in tonight as we agreed. Ok?”

“Ahhh Mr William*, very busy weekend not ready today” he laughs, he always fucking laughs like no matter what bad news he has, we’ve got some unbreakable bond. “It is ok for you tomorrow”

I’m no longer sure what ‘Tomorrow’ means here. I think it is defined as anytime in the next  millenia?  It doesn’t mean the day after today that I know for sure.

“But Kalumee, for fucks sake ….” I throw my arms up in the air. I need him to know I’m angry, this is serious, urgency is needed. Kalumee does not read my body language as well as one would hope.

He lets out a big laugh "Mr. William, we’re in Africa n..”

I’m not in the mood for this ‘African time’ nonsense. “What is the delay?” I interrupt.

He avoids the question.

“The house is very clean Mr William” he proudly points out his achievement.

“I know that Kalumee, I fucking cleaned it!” I might implode. Deep breaths Colm - go with the flow. 

I try again “What is there left to do?”

“Oh yes it is nice and clean for you now. You move in tomorrow, no problem” Big smile but he now seems puzzled as to why I’m not smiling.

God Dammit. “Kalumee, What…is… there….left ….to…do?” 

Breath in 1,2,3,4,5. Breath out 1,2,3,4,5.

“Nearly finished, just to cement outside here and bed will come also tomorrow” Small little laugh this time.

He looks away.

A pause.

He looks back at me.

He smiles.  I might cry.

We’ve had the same discussion about 6 bloody times, each time I’m beaten into submission. 

“Ok tomorrow so, you promise tomorrow right?”

Kalumee sees this last question as me finally joining in on his game. He loves it.

“Ohh yes Mr William” he explodes “I see you tomorrow Mr William. It will be finished nice for you my friend”

Now thoroughly satisfied with our encounter, Kalumee gives me another big laugh and friendly handshake.  Twisting The Knife.

As I walk away in the evening gloom, I glance back at him standing there, smiling at me.  He waves.

We’re best of pals.

* My Passport has Colm William Halley on it, so I’m always introduced as Mr. William.