I started formal work yesterday for the first time since moving to the Eastern Cape.  One gets very used to working for oneself, but I did know that moving here would certainly mean a change in my work life, little did I realise to what extent.

After battling to even secure an interview with anyone down here, I have finally been given a temporary assignment for five weeks by the most lovely of ladies, and I am so excited, and incredibly grateful, to be gainfully employed again.

The stark reality of the work differences between Grahamstown and Johannesburg hit me like a wet lagoon fish within the first five minutes of "Day 1" yesterday.  I am working in one of the oldest and most lovely buildings in Grahamstown - so old, in fact, the there are two "W.C.'s" - both of which are outside the office building, in a small courtyard.  This for me was initially a reason not to drink a drop of liquid from 10pm the night before and pretend that each working day would be like preparing for major surgery - no liquid consumption would be permissible.  This plan lasted for exactly 11 minutes, after which I decided that the outside lavatory was quaint and lovely and the adjoining courtyard is indeed very charming and reminds me of England.
What did confuse me however, was a distinct smell of fresh-ish French fries, so I took myself down the street to investigate.  Lo and behold, our neighbour is none other than a fish and chip shop - reminding me even more of England, except that in this shop, every single table has on it a 1.5 litre bottle of Fanta Grape, and 2 polystyrene cups layered over the bottle neck!  This is a far cry from the Evian bottles that adorn most restaurants in the major metropolitan culinary hot-spots.

Whilst smiling to myself and deciding to return to my desk and perhaps get on with what it is I was actually supposed to be doing, I was confronted with not one, but three, street vendors selling "new stock" of Coco Chanel, Chanel No. 5, and Estee Lauder's Beautiful.  I asked which truck these items had fallen off, and one of the chaps just said "can't say Lady!"

Day 2 has been less of a shock to the proverbial system, although I was confronted with a "movie moment" when, trying desperately to get an advertisement into the local newspaper in time for the print deadline, I was told their e-mails seemed to be down, so was asked to "just run over" with a flash disk and sort out the problem at the designer's desk.  I honestly thought I was hearing things, but the deadline was looming, and apparently I was in need of a run.  So, black Italian pumps on, flash disk in hand, I decided to take the leap of faith and run to the newspaper office... sadly, I failed to look right in time, and was suddenly facing a donkey cart, with two very unsurprised looking beasts, carrying their owner to who knows where, down the main "High Street" of town!

Toto, I am indeed a long way from home...

P.S. Print deadline, despite collision of the first kind, has been met.