Wednesday, December 9, 2009
The rain is often a main topic of discussion: "When? How often? How much? Does it also rain in Cape Town?"
I reply: "It usually rains here, along with hail, thunder and lighting, in the evening, from about 5pm."
"It's now 5oh5, and it's not raining yet."
Or, if it rains at around 3pm.
"Is it 5 o'clock, already?"
Then the bell will ring during a downpour and a potential guest will say over the intercom.
"I have questions, but I need to see you outside. What have you done to the weather?"
Adele, treating her elderly mom to a holiday at Kruger, asked me why we had to switch off our electricity and geysers at certain times? Her mother was very offended because where they came from geysers were old people.
One morning, I wake up to the sound of gushing water. Dash outside. Burst geyser. I 'phone a plumber.
"What is the problem?" he asked: "Are you sure the geyser has burst? How is water flow, fast or slow? Have you checked, if there is perhaps not another problem? Is there a drip tray? How old is the geyser? What is the capacity? What is the make and model?"
Now, how would I know?
On his arrival, he asks for a ladder and I am told that the geyser has not burst, so he installs a new element.
The following morning, I hear water again, this time a little closer.
The bathroom has flooded! The plumber arrives, with a bewildered look on his face, and fiddles about:
"All sorted, Madam."
The following morning, kaboom!
The plumber tells me he is not coming back. Spend three hours finding another one, who installs a new geyser.
The following morning, no water.
"I was in the shower and you have no hot water. What do you mean, none at all? Oh well, I'll just have to swim now."
Steven drives to the Council, and later hurtles into the driveway as though avoiding a twister:
"Some idiot forgot to fill the reservoir." (A joke, right?) "But, the water will be on, at 12."
At 3pm, the taps are not even gurgling.
Steven pacifies me: "Maybe they are filling the reservoir with hosepipes."
I picture them, dangling their legs over the edge, while at Terrylin there are seven bogged toilets.