Ginder divide

‘Excruciating’, said my colleague Nicolas, when I asked him how his week of work had been. Same here. I emerged from a rabbithole after several calls and Gugs asked whether I’d made progress reducing stress levels today. Well, I didn’t cry during the working day. So, yes. And I also showered which I think I last did on Easter Monday, so a clear win for self care.

This is a very strange time. I’ve now been in the UK for over a month and I think this is the longest I’ve spent in one place, without any travel or overnighting elsewhere, for several years. If I was with more possessions in a familiar place I’d likely be feeling somewhat different. I know we’re told to spend our days bettering ourselves and becoming polyglots via online language lessons, but in general I wouldn’t say that lockdown suits me.

I almost went on my evening walk with a gin and tonic in a can, but instead saved the drinking for a long Skype session with Dan and Joey who were two of the last friends I saw face to face, in a time when physical contact was permitted. In the shop I saw a guy choosing his yellow stickered sandwich and baked products for dinner, and felt a connection to my spirit animal.

In our housesitting arrangement, Gugs and I have sub-consciously assumed stereotypical gender roles from the 1950s*. I usually work until later and then need to get some fresh air to switch off. Whilst I have the palate of a caveman, Gugs enjoys the process of planning, talking about and preparing food. On a couple of occasions she’s been serving it up as I walked through the door. I am embarrassed to tuck in as I’d usually just eat later, but she is a generous giving sort and insists it’s fine. We’ve learnt that I’ll stare blankly if asked about flavourings. ‘I’ve put something in that’s giving it a weird taste’, she said. I cast my eyes around the kitchen: ‘could it be this tub of organic baharat I’ve just spotted on the counter?’

*Around cooking only, as I am a dab hand at tidying, washing up and feeding cats.

What is organic baharat?

A friend sent me a photo of my apartment block entrance in Maputo as he drove past. Good to know it’s still intact.