Time to reflect

Time, is a wonderful thing. But it can be a contrary bugger. For example, if you’re waiting for a bus it stretches out like the Sahara. But, if it is imperative you catch a bus and are 5 streets away from the stop, its sand running through your fingers.

Over the centuries mankind have measured time in many ways: lunar cycles, solar cycles and so on. But these days the world has predominantly settles on GMT. How odd that a line in a small London borough should have such International significance. It brings a tear of pride to my English eye.

But, and this might shock you proud Englanders out there, for some this dignified line in time is nothing more than a theory. When a GMT believer comes into contact with these people there can be only one outcome: confusion.

For example, I genuinely believe that 8am exists, although I further understand that 8am is not universally 8am everywhere. My 8am in Libya, is in fact your 6am in England. But, and I fervently believe this to be true, my 8am in Libya is universally 8am in Libya.

Admit you can’t fault my logic?

So if I were to tell you that many Libyans think that 8am in Libya is 8.30am, or 8.48am, or maybe even 11am you’d probably be shocked. Rightly so.

But what if I also told you that some Libyans are able to make 8am any time they like to suit their particular circumstances? Confused? Another example. A training course might start at 8am, but should you encounter a problem locating your car keys, or need to stop off at the shops, or maybe, phone a friend, or, indeed any combination of these things. 8am can become the time you arrive at your training course.

You may think this madness but look at the advantages. You are never late, so you don’t have to apologise for your tardiness, or indeed give it a second thought.

This phenomenon is called LT – Libyan Time. Experts in its manipulation can do all sorts of clever things with it, like turning the lunch hour into the end of the day. After all, if you have the power to decide what time it is, you always have time to do what you want.

Yep, LT is the new GMT.

That’s not to say it doesn’t hang on to some of the traits of the old GMT. For example, it is never applied to the end of the working day. In this respect GMT is rigidly followed.

And talking of time, I will be leaving Libya soon. I’ll be sticking to old-fashioned GMT so it will be next Wednesday.

What did I think of Libya? A very interesting place, but its people are its strongest asset.

You should visit – if you get the time…

Chicken Surprise...

And so to the humble chicken, which as you certainly already know, is the owner of an extremely nervous disposition. So it won’t surprise you when I tell you that a chicken’s heart pumps away at an impressive 280 beats per minute. This, presumably, contributes to its scorching 102 degrees F average body temperature.

If humans had chicken physiology we would not have to worry about the egg laying aspects because we’d internally combust.

I also need to furnish you with another useful (possibly) chicken fact. The chicken, even with a following wind, travelling down a 1:10 hill, can only achieve a maximum speed of 9 mph.  This means anything other than hedgehogs, and my fat friend from Thailand, become potential predators. All of a sudden the heart beat fact falls in to place.

So you will be even more surprised to learn that, despite almost everything on earth being a predator, the world’s chicken population stands at 3000, 000,000 – depending on how you count that many noughts, that’s at least 1 chicken for every human being on the planet.

So now I must make a confession. I’ve eaten mine.

And many others, I regret to say. People are going without their chicken, because since I arrived in Libya its all I’ve eaten.

Every evening I have dinner cooked for me. It’s chicken. Sometimes the chef tries to disguise it with a sauce, or by moulding it into craggy boulders and deep-frying it, but without success. If it tastes like chicken, it’s chicken.

At lunchtime, the office lady comes around with rolls. She has an extensive selection, providing you like chicken. For variation she alternates the hand she passes it to me with.

One evening, in a futile attempt at chicken-less-ness I opted to cook for myself. The only ingredient in the fridge I could cook with any confidence was egg. Chicken eggs.

At a conservative estimate I reckon I’m eating three chickens per week. I’m here for 5 weeks…

I’ll leave you with another amazing chicken fact: the chicken is the nearest living relative to the Tyrannosaurus Rex. Remember that when you sit down to your Sunday roast and your mother offers you the leg… 

The Green Cross Sprint...

OK. I've been in Libya for two weeks now and the main thing occupying my mind is: how come this country doesn't have any world class sprinters?

Aficionados of the Olympic blue ribbon event know that to be truly successful as a sprinter you have to explode from the blocks. You need to get into your stride quickly, pump your arms and legs like billy-ho, and be accelerating, not slowing when you cross the line.

The same is true of crossing the road in Libya.

Here, the main roads are invariably duel carriageway with a central reservation running down the middle to stop oncoming traffic encroaching on your side of the road. This is not universally successful because at various points there are gaps to enable traffic to turn into side roads on the opposite side of the road. In practise these are used for u-turning at 5 mph into oncoming traffic travelling at 90 mph.

But these are not the reason why crossing the road requires a good pair of spikes. For this we have to look into the psyche of Libyan drivers.

The first thing you need to understand is, there is no point driving at 80 mph if your car is capable of doing a ton. Similarly, why would you allow another driver to overtake you if you are already going flat out? No, its much better to maintain a line straddling both lanes, and lurch erratically from left to right as required, depending on whether the idiot trying to pass is attempting to overtake or undertake.

Giving way is something other countries do. Indication of any sort, other than leaning on the horn, is frowned upon.

But the up side is I am now achieving times for the 100 metres I haven't recorded since school.  And this has helped me in my only available evening pastime.

I have discovered that the fridge in my villa has an alarm that goes off if you leave the door open. How far from it can you get before it beeps? I can't quite make to the bedroom yet, but I've got as far as the hall. 

Still another couple of weeks road crossing and I'll think I'll do it easily...

In my next entry I will talk to you at length on the humble chicken...