Pause... for consideration

This blog post is brought to you from a sun lounger by the pool of the Shangri- La resort, Muscat, Oman. That’s right dear readers; I have escaped my desert island for a week, set off on my travels to the Arabian Gulf and my Maldivian friends are all terribly worried that I’m not coming back! They needn’t fear. Dubai is shiny, Oman stunning and the Bank of Mum and Dad affords a very nice lifestyle but Ihavandhoo holds a fond place in my heart and I’m not ready to give it up just yet.

Since mid-term break is upon us I feel the moment has come to pause and take stock of events so far. So this week’s offering is to be a round-up of our antics, in which we shall discover that there is so much more to baked beans than we realised, that the journey to Kulhudhuffushi takes a jolly long time, and exactly how the principal split his trousers...

Looking back, I’d say our Maldivian antics truly began the night of the inaugural meeting of the Ihavandhoo School Staff Recreation Club, about two weeks after our arrival. To her horror, and my gleeful delight, Bella was nominated and voted in as co-ordinator of the club and promptly became embroiled in the organisation of the staff picnic to an uninhabited island, which was scheduled for the weekend of 30th January.

The eve of the picnic dawned with much excitement and anticipation, until an ill-timed circular (everybody loves a good circular until it brings bad tidings) went round ordering all local teachers to attend an island meeting the next day. Picnic postponed, excitement evaporated and we were left twiddling our thumbs, feeling oddly bereft. The disappointment only lasted until one of the boys suggested we go fishing with them instead. Excitement re-ignited.

Bella and I love boats. The pair of us is rarely happier or more relaxed than when we are bobbing about in a wooden tub, warm water and clear skies around us, so we thoroughly enjoyed our first fishing and snorkelling expedition. Even as I lay stranded on the edge of the boat, without the strength to pull myself up, and looking not unlike a beached whale, I think I enjoyed myself.

Having endured the disappointment of one false start, we anticipated the re-scheduled staff picnic with more guarded enthusiasm. But the day arrived and Areeb appeared on our doorstep at ten to six, a sure sign that all was go. You might have been forgiven for thinking the whole island was attending the staff picnic, for the provisions were abundant. It therefore took some time to load everyone and everything on to assorted sea-going vessels but eventually we got away.

The uninhabited island was exquisite. Unspoilt, with white sand, trees for shade, and a shallow lagoon stretching right out to the edge of the reef. The perfect spot to pass a day.

Maldivians don’t take picnicking lightly. Forget sand-filled sandwiches and crisps. We started the day with coffee and prawn-based breakfast snacks aboard the boat before congregating for roshi and ‘bake-ed beans’ around 9.30. Bake-ed beans are so much more than the humble baked bean. Add chilli, vegetables and dried fish and you’ll be somewhere near this culinary delight. A snorkelling sortie worked up an appetite for a hearty lunch, which, in turn, provided us with enough energy for a rather boistress game of water-piggy-in-the-middle. The principal it seems was playing so enthusiastically that his shorts, already under considerable strain, finally gave up the fight and split up the seam. Bella’s sarong had to be drafted in to preserve his modesty.

We made our way home as the sun was setting, tired but happy having had a thoroughly enjoyable day.

Our next excursion from our beloved island was a trip to Kulhudhuffushi to visit Ali, fellow volunteer and friend. It take three hours to get to Kulhudhuffushi by ferry, leaving at sunrise, but the joys of vegetables, cheese and bread were sufficient to get Bella and I out of bed at half past five and to the jetty ready to board the ferry. Kulhudhuffushi has the nearest hospital, so the ferry was somewhere between maternity ward and geriatric unit. Fellow inmates included 3 newborn babies, a spectacularly seasick toddler and a poor old lady who looked as if she needed both knees and hips replacing. Dolphins provided a welcome distraction on a couple of occasions and we arrived at Kulhudhuffushi feeling that the journey had been worthwhile.

Compared to Ihavandhoo, Kulhudhuffushi seemed huge and slightly daunting. It actually takes time to get places and there’s a wide main road running from one side of the island to the other. There are even taxis. Once over the initial shock of being on an island larger than a postage stamp, we got moving. Ali whisked us round the shops and treated us to an episode of Sex and the City. The ferry home was due to depart almost before we’d arrived, so there was just time for a lunch of cheese toasties before we had to head back to the jetty and assume our positions for the journey back, clutching our loaves of bread victoriously.

As ever, I could go on. There are entertaining events on a daily basis but I think I must stop. Happy hour is about to commence in the cocktail bar and with 10 dry weeks stretching ahead of me I intend to make the most of it.

Until next time dear readers, farewell. x