I am loving my spell of Granny Duty in the First World, but there is one thing I cannot come to grips with here!
The Sounds of Silence!

Africa is gigantic, large noisy, bustling, America is gigantic too but oh so quiet and civilized...
The houses are all air conditioned and this brings about a false sense of quietude, no dogs, no birds, no traffic.

How I miss the Bulawayo bird song in the morning and evening, in our garden in Bulawayo the birdsong is even raucous all day long. The doves, the robins, the bull bulls, the orioles, the broubrous, never stop singing and it becomes a melody to the soul.

Here in Georgia there are lovely, lively birds, but one only hears them in the Spring and Autumn where the weather is clement, and the when the doors are opened to the outside world. The rest of the year their delightful sounds are muted by the double glazing and air conditioning.

One can hear some sounds above the aircon - planes in the distance, the occasional leaf blower and lawnmower on the days when the garden service is provided.
One sound that I have heard infrequently, fortunately, is the storm siren based at the high school close by, twice it has heralded tornados and severe weather but they have passed us by luckily.

Back Home - ah the sounds, the sounds of the galvanized iron dustbin lids clanging as the cooks empty the nighttime bins, the sounds of the gardeners sweeping - incessantly - the Jacaranda leaves from the driveways. The gentle hum of the swimming pool filter, I even miss the sounds of the generators that kick in when there are power cuts!!

I miss the gentle murmur of the gardeners as they go about their daily tasks, the shrill voices of the baby minders as they push the babies out for a stroll, and gather at the corner of the road on our green verdant verge lawn.

I miss the sounds of the traffic, the noisy hoots of the taxi drivers and the grinding long haul buses and trucks as they ride over the speed humps outside Milton school.

I miss the manure man who plys his trade up and down the road, his patient donkeys pulling his cart, and his staccato voice shouting 'Manuuure' as he passes by. I miss the sounds of the cars as they clunketty clunk through the potholes, and I can always tell when there is a roadblock on Takawira Road, as the traffic increases exponentially on our side road as the taxi drivers avoid the police!!

I miss the sound of the water towers when they disgorge their overload and I dearly miss the ten to seven siren beckoning the workers to their labours...

Dogs Well thats another story... no one in their right mind misses the sound of the neighbors dogs at three in the morning...

Then there is the rain : the precious Matabele rain. At home we have a tin roof, and a tropical rainstorm sounds like Hades Unleashed as the berries, twigs and hail lash across the roof. In Georgia, with a tiled roof, even a thunderous storm sounds gentle and pleasing. How distressed I was to have missed the glorious multitudinous storms we were blessed with this season.

Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining, merely musing and at least in the USA the mosquitoes are kept at bay outside the houses!!