So its cold. Not just pull on a jumper cold, like in Nairobi, but more "Good gracious, do lecturers really expect me to go out in this weather??!!" Cold. I am beginning to forget what 26 degrees centigrade felt like, even 12 degrees here is cause for minor celebration. Wierdly enough though, it is nothing like the cliches that they show on postcards or anything. The grass is still green and even though the leaves have fallen from the trees, there's still enough left over for the trees to look like...well...trees.

Another season that's changing is in my country. We are in the throes of a monumental referendum. I am so nervous half of the time and I keep logging onto the Kenyan newspaper websites www.nationmedia.com to find out what exactly is going on. I am praying for peace above all else, because Kenya unfortunately has a history of electoral violence. Even though it never directly interfered with my rather sheltered suburban life, its was still cause for enough concern.

There is also the changing season within myself. I feel like I am finally coming into my own, and finding my way in this place. I am still broke, horrendously so, but I don't worry so much about it. We have navigated into familiar waters; deadlines, essays, research papers - these are all things with which I have considerable experience. I feel more confident, and I have found a rock on which I can biuld my university years on.

I have also discovered an unusual skill that is coming in handy in my new larger yet strangely more crowded flat. I have learnt how to switch my intellect on and off. When people patronise me I rarely notice, and when I do I smirk on the inside and just let it slide off. It comes in handy because I can communicate on their level and still communicate on the level I feel I am at without patronising or looking down on people. Which from that statement sounds like a double standard, but think of it as a teacher in a nursery school..get the picture?

So yeah, the seasons are changing. Funny thing with changes is that they're rarely bad or good. They just are, know what I mean?

What is the single most stupid thing you have ever done? And I don't mean in the metaphysical "not taking all the chances I had" sense, I mean in the everyday "no, hon, putting the cat in the microwave was not a good idea" sense. Can't think of anything? Let me help you out.

In the last week I have forgotten to go to work. Three times. That is three separate incidences when I have completely forgotten to go to work. Today, I was supposed to work three hours, from 5 to 8, and I completely forgot until about 10:30. I have absolutely no valid excuse; its not like I was doing something else, I just completely forgot. I mean the thought of working was not even within 50km of the atmosphere of my mind.

Has this ever happened to any of you or am I just a freak of nature? Am I just exhausted or is this a sign of things to come? Am I going to grow into one of those mothers who leaves their kids at school while they sit at home, thinking "I know there's something I'm supposed to be doing but I just don't know what it is!"? Am I just not cut out for the nine to five? Should I start looking into alternative employment?

Argh! Its so frustrating! I blame the weather. Its messed up my entire thought process. What do you think?

I'm back. Took a little break there to clear the head and get a few things sorted but I am back now and better than ever! I finally moved out of the Flat and and now in true university accommodation. That means shared bathrooms and galley kitchens, but even so I still feel better about the whole thing. The other flat was just not working out and I was getting really miserable in the process.

I have some personal information that I would like to share but first a comment on the eruption of racial violence in France. I could barely believe my ears when I hear that there were people rioting in France, partly because you always have this glamorous image of France, with "shiny happy people having fun" and partly because only a few days earlier a couple minutes away from where I live there were race riots as well.

I have never experiences a race riot before. Like I said, Kenya is a pretty chilled out place in respect to race because we all suffer our rather daft politicians equally. But here, its really different. Its an issue. On my pay slip, at the bank, in restaurants, everywhere, there is another form, another questionnaire asking me if I am Black British, Black African, Black Caribbean or mixed race. I always select the prefer not to answer section.

Anyway, all these years of bubbling tension finally erupting in a spurt of violence got me thinking two things. One, what is Europe doing wrong? And two, is it just a coincidence that I am here when all this is happening? The answer to the second one came to me quickly. I believe that we are sent to the places where we are most needed when we are most needed at the time when we are most needed. I think I am here to make a difference. I just don't know what that difference is yet.

The second one I haven't really resolved yet. I think partly because Europe prefers to hide race under a rug rather than talk and communicate about it. If you think about it, all these questionnaires and forms and things are just tokens, a smoke screen for the real trouble. In Kenya we did more or less the same thing with AIDS and look how wonderfully that worked out. (Sarcie- we have one of the highest infection rates in the world). I think children should learn more about other countries and civilisations all the way through so that they grow up with an appreciation for the differences and similarities. I believe that having that education all the way through primary school is what has made Kenya at least racially cohesive. I grew up knowing what Diwali was, Eid Ul Fitr, Hanukkah and all those holidays, and as a result I guess I had more understanding for my friends who are of different religions, and therefore different people.

Right now where I study/work, there are about twenty students with different disabilities. The students and staff all walk a mile around them because they are afraid that offering help is condescending. But if you were blind wouldn't you want someone to help you through the revolving door? One day I had to drop about ten books that I was carrying and run to help out a blind man who was walking into a glass door while about four people just watched.

Anyway, I've gone off on a tangent. I'm sorry this post isn't as literally cohesive as some of the others but I just wanted to remind you all that I am alive and get my thoughts out there.

I welcome useful comments.