Script and Service: Field notes from a travelling pharmacist on global aid, work, and adventures

Finally the date of the biggest wedding since Will and Kate's had arrived. It happened in Nyangao and I was invited. I had my £6 ticket and a new outfit and wasn't thrown by the last minute change of date. I received my official invitation the day before - a yellow, plastic biro with a pull-out scroll confirming the location and time - very secret service. A seamstress had turned some fabric into an amazing two-piece outfit that fit perfectly and came complete with puffy 1970's shoulders. It could have been a (bigger) disaster as I left the design up to her having no creative skills but she produced a fashion miracle for little more than £2.80. Thankfully the evening temperatures dropped to 27 degrees as it was akin to being wrapped in a curtain. Turns out all the other guests took the opportunity to wear "western-style" dresses. I haven't seen that much nylon since my shell-suit made its last outing in 1989. On arrival at the Einbeck-Petr...

Sometimes it's nice to stay indoors. No trips to the village, no visits to the market, no having to greet every person you pass or risk offending them if you don't (I'm not quite sure who they all are but they seem to know me). No stilted conversations, no uncomfortable pauses while I think of a Swahili word, no haggling for tomatoes, pumpkins or peanuts, no lingering stares following me around each corner. Every now and then it's nice to stay indoors. To forget it's so humid outside that I sweat through my shirt within 5 minutes, that I have to look where I'm going to avoid stepping on snakes, that I can't laugh or joke with people because I don't know enough of the language, to forget that I can't grab a coffee, an ice-cream, a take-out. It's nice to make potato wedges instead of rice and beans. Now and again I like to watch American sitcoms and terrible movies one after the other or listen to my usual 4 albums and forget where I am. But...