The Police station is opposite me. Quite what they do I cannot imagine, especially as the station appears to be bigger than the hospital.
Often I see the policemen fishing. They give me a fishing line and suggest bread as bait. Despite lots of interest, I never ever catch a fish. Another day I try chicken sausage as bait but all the fish turn their noses up at that.
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The locals are not interested in visiting other islands. That sets me thinking about who they marry. And I never find a cemetery.
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There are lots of big, black vicious looking crows that perch on massive tree-roots washed up by the Tsunami. The birds don’t attack but they always look like they are considering it. I sometimes find large cockroaches in my house but they are always dead – why, Lord, why? Lots of lizards come in under the back door but they run outside when I clap my hands; I kid myself I have some of the fauna house-trained.
My Muslims 