Settling into the unsettled

Don't get me wrong, I'm doing alright. Life back home is just far from life in South Africa. I signed on with the notoriously ridiculous job center, hoping they would support me while I find work. So far, they have told me I can't go to my Project Trust Debriefing and won't be paid until I've been here for three months. I was born here, I've lived here my whole life! That's what you get for spending a year doing something worthwhile - a slap in the face.

Not to worry, I'm definitely going to my debriefing. It's a closure course back on the Isle of Coll, where it all began. Apparently, I can only go if I sign something to state i'll come home immediately if I'm offered a job. I've also got to search for jobs while I'm on Coll. That's fabulous considering there's no wifi.There isn't even a phone signal. Shh. As far as not paying me is concerned, if they don't, I can't afford to sign on every fortnight. It's a lose-lose situation. They then had the cheek to ask me what i'll do if I can't find a job. Er, DIE?

Other than that, it's okay. I spend my days wondering what to do then realize I have no money to do anything. I'll walk the dog, clean the flat and pace around for a few hours. Speaking of the flat, that's my new home. Mum had to move here while I was away. It's only got one bedroom but that's okay. South Africa toughened me up. I might be moving in with my brother soon, that will be alright so long as i'm not considered the house maid. 

The neighbours across the hall are encouraging me to lose my faith in humanity. I'm yet to actually see them face to face. I don't fancy doing so, for fear of what loss I'll see in their eyes. They scream, they shout. They leave their empty blue bags in the hallway. They fight, they stab, they spray blood across our door. They play techno on repeat until four in the morning. They beg that we call the police and then treat us like dirt. They stole our complimentary box of DVD's and replaced it with a box of cereal. They accuse our dog of being a devil and then break their own window in.

Other than the flats of death, Largs is a lovely town. The views are beautiful and the sun sets are incredible. There will be a massive viking festival on soon. With that comes good entertainment and good food.That will be something to keep me busy,  I can't wait. An unaware local thought my dreads meant I was a viking. Oh dear, I suppose it doesn't get more Scottish than that. 

As soon as I have some form of income, I can move on with my America plans. I'm still confident that i'll be out there by February. Note that I said "out there" and not "out of here". There will be a detailed post on that soon. I'm thinking of starting a new blog called something like Conversations with a Generation. I've overheard and heard so much bad word recently that should definitely be publicized.

A beautiful view of Arran and Millport from Largs

And a lovely view of Largs Town