Dear your-name-here (possibly with some typos, but you know it is for you),
I hope this finds you well. I know this comes amidst a hundred emails wishing you the same for the same, but this one is different; this one will teach you how to get rid of about ninety-five of those.
First thing first: Following this guide, you may lose some... wait, sorry, where are my manners? Good day, or good evening if you are a desperate case.
Now, last thing second: I will break away from the tradition of placing the disclaimer at the bottom of the page in small font and will lay it right here, in normal-size font. I would even put it in red colour, or bold, but it would not look great on the website. It is only fair to warn you that by following this guide you may lose some opportunities to make millions from princes in countries far away or bank investors in countries nearby, and you might miss some important meetings and social events. The upside is that you will miss some important meetings and social events.
Are you ready to continue? Good, let us move on.
Firstly (or thirdly, if you keep track across paragraphs), you cannot get rid of all email. Well, you could, but some of it is rather good. It is useful to know when your chocolate-caramel-fudge-candy-filled-jumbo-donuts are shipping and if your bidding for the slimming shakes was accepted on eBay. It would also save you from refreshing the page every fifteen minutes on that German website for check for new clips if you subscribed to their newsletter. This is a compilation of best practices and recommendations from CEO's, entrepreneurs, journalists, celebrities, rich people (or their wives/husbands) who receive tons of email and still manage to be successful. Based on personal experience but without being successful or rich, I am going to explain how most of them are wrong and how the ones that are not wrong can be improved. You will get the best stuff in a single place: here. No ads*, no paywall or pop-ups with requests for donations. I do like donations, they are my favorite source of income along with alms and inheritance. But I would not ask for them.
Without further ado, straight into the topic. I am not the kind to digress in lengthy introductions with pompous statements and embellishments. Or to add unnecessary suspense to keep readers stuck to the screen for... right, where was I? I'll start, in no particular order.
6. Wake up early to read email. I was surprised to find out people would wake up unnaturally early just to get a head-start on email. This is a disaster: you still read email, and you also ruin your sleep. You not only damage your eyes and the important bit that sits behind them, but sleep is important. And I doubt people who do this will catch up later during the day power-napping at their desk. Utterly inefficient.
11. Look for long, important emails that would take less time to discuss in real-life. This is a mixed one. Personally, I would delete them first and wait for a come-back to see if they are important indeed. It is surprising to see how many turned out not to be after only a couple of weeks. Patience is a virtue. I do not have it, but I have the next best thing: laziness. If it turns out the topic was important, it is better to discuss it face to face, for several reasons. No, human interaction is not one of them. But you do not need to type long emails. And if your ideas were wrong, you may pretend later that you inferred something different all along. Verba volant, scripta manent. Pretentiousness aside, people have misunderstood the real value of this saying. Also, make sure there are no witnesses. Or that they will not be able to testify. How? Sorry, this is not a guide about abuse and intimidation. But I shall make a note of this.
3. If you want to receive less email, send less email. This little gem comes from a CEO, but I still agree. I write close to no email. And when I do, they are very short. Usually it is 'Tl;dr' or 'Unsubscribe'. If you are a CEO, I would imagine 'You are fired' or 'Excellent, you should work on this; you have until tomorrow evening to showcase a working demo' work just as well. I imagine the opposite may also work: if you have the patience, reply with long tedious emails. If you do not feel inspired, just find a long psalm related to the subject of office supplies or sales and distribution and make sure you attach an 18 MB corrupted PDF and reference to it. Particularly useful if you know they'll read on a mobile device.
8. Get one or more assistants to handle your email. If I could afford that, I do not see how this can be a problem in the first place; I would simply make the problem disappear by telling the captain to sail the yacht in an area where I can pretend to have no signal on my Vertu.
2. Ask people to indicate until when they need a reply. The irony is that this suggestion comes from a woman. Call me a
misogynistic sow all you want, sisters, but women tend to be as bad at estimating
time as men are at estimating the length of personal items. That aside, any deadline is irrelevant as a matter of principle (unless pizza delivery is involved). Should you miss a mark, you can always blame on some problems with your email account. "Yes, boss, again. I see it was supposed to be done on Thursday, but I just saw this 2 minutes ago, that is why I called. I really do not understand what those guys in IT are doing, but it is dreadful. That migration to cloud email only made things worse. Remember it also happened a few weeks ago before that meeting with Logistics?" If you are the proactive type, set an out-of-office-auto-reply with a return date after the deadline.
4. Never begin an email with "I". Apparently, this teaches you how to think through an issue. Could be, I have no idea. I usually begin with "You" and end with a drastic verb. Sometimes, when I want to give it a personal touch, I replace "You" with "Your mother" or "Your foster child".
24. Handle priority emails now and the rest later, at a less busy time. It sounds reasonable, but it is like setting up a scheduled task to delete emails later instead of deleting them right now. I still prefer to check in which warehouse my parcel of biscuits is at the moment. And then delete everything else.
8b. Forward the email to an appropriate person in the company, adding a question mark. I think this makes you look like a bit of a dictator. My personal take on this is to simply forward it to a random person that has nothing to do with that topic, without adding anything. Mysterious is better than bossy prick.
10. No emails one hour before bedtime; no emails early in the morning; no emails while spending time with family. Not much to add here. Except for: to make this better, sleep more often and wake up late. Oh, and it does not matter whose family it is.
31. Whenever you add someone in your address book, make a note on what you discussed with that person during the meeting so that you can get straight to the point. It sounds practical, but when I am writing an email I know exactly what I want to ask for. Otherwise I wouldn't be writing an email. If they want something, they can write the email. And I can delete it.
7. Whenever you become overwhelmed, declare Inbox bankruptcy, and start fresh. You might be tempted to think this sounds interesting, but you will sound like a whining hipster if you say it out loud. But do not stop there, please do go through the entire list of simple things you are incompetent at. Why not start fresh every morning? Silently, with just a quick hiss or two. Like an armpit deodorant. Yeah! Two can play the game of spouting stupid things that sound interesting.
9. Answer quickly, straight away, to any email. Interesting, but it can get tiresome. Especially with order confirmations and newsletters from noreply@some.mail. If you are serious about being quick, use automatic replies.
22. Never reply when you are emotional. I am very emotional behind my cold-blooded appearance, this goes straight up my alley. When asked why the weekly report was late two months I remind people that I have felt very emotional this winter and I could not handle any email. Do not use this excuse in August. Adapt. The season needn't be set in stone.
19. Do not allow emails between employees. Before you pop the champagne, it continues with encouraging people to meet and (gasp!) talk to their colleagues. As I am sipping from the cup of flat disappointment, I am pondering if that CEO thought how many of their staff will start sending sensitive information and confidential attachments through Yahoo or Hotmail. The silver-line for me is that NSFW replies from those addresses can be attacked in a lawsuit as grounds for dismissal.
37. Block access to emails after working hours and during weekends. It makes people feel less stressed and more in control of their personal life. I found out recently this has been long implemented at my workplace, too, but I have no idea when. I only check my emails between 10:45 and 14:50 on Tuesday and Friday anyway.
108. Fake business-cards. I could not agree more with this one. Partly because this is my idea. An accidental typo when you order your business cards can reduce the amount of email by 41%.
109. Automatic replies and rules. If there is one thing to remember from this guide, is to configure the auto-reply and automatic rules. One is proactive, one is reactive. And both immensely practical. If you feel intimidated by how many options there are when configuring rules, focus on those for that say Mark as read and Delete. The other thing to remember is that donations are welcome (in case you forgot, which I bet you did).
Do you have some ideas of your own for handling email? Feel free to email them to me. They are in safe hands.
*Disclaimer: Please disregard this part if I decided to put ads in the website later. If I do, it is only to still have a disclaimer at the end, despite saying earlier that I would not. And nothing else. Oh, and money.
No pop-ups, though. People who do pop-ups should be subscribed to Deepak Robbins' hourly newsletter.
Showing posts with label domestic life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label domestic life. Show all posts
21 January, 2018
09 April, 2015
Smoke without fire?
On various occasions rock-n-roll singers have questioned the wild horses' ability to drag them away (and the answers vary, depending on whom you listen to). However, back in the old days horses were used to pull heavy sleighs through thick snow. It's unlikely skinny singers would be too much challenge. However, they could have a hard time pushing them. Unless we're talking about drugs.
But we're not. We're talking about sleighing in the Russian countryside. The grand nobleman is smoking big cigars and enjoying the crisp freezing air while the Baroness snugged in fur seems to not enjoy very much the company of her husband. She's secretly thinking about enjoying the coachman later during the night, when the nobleman is out for a game of cards at the neighboring castle, wasting away her inherited fortune; alas, life is really dull in the countryside during winter. Meanwhile, the coachman is shivering at the front struggling to handle the horses and enjoys neither of his passengers. He doesn't have a warm coat nor a cigar. The only things keeping him from freezing are handling the harnesses and the seldom warm air coming from the horses. He knows he'd have to go out again at night to take the nobleman to his game, when it's even colder. And he knows afterwards he may have to go... inside -again- which on second thought is considerably less bad than the merciless frost.
Even more at the front of the convoy there are the horses for whom the ride is a pointless stroll while carrying along useless weight. They are completely oblivious of the triangle of plots and deceit going through the heads of the people they're carrying. If anything, they're slightly bemused by the peasant trying to tell them where to go; they know the road better anyway. Should they get lost in the wood, they'd be home well before the coachman and passengers froze to death on the road.
They have more important things on their mind. Matvey, the horse on the left, is suspecting that Kostya -the horse on the right- has found its stash of cigarettes hidden in the barn (on the beam above the hay stack) and it's skimming it. It can't put his hoof on it, but last time there were ten cigarettes missing. Horses aren't very good with numbers, though, and it's not polite to make accusations without solid evidence. In the meantime, Kostya is wondering whether Matvey suspects anything. Luckily in winter time you cannot really tell from distance the difference between cigarette smoke or steam you're exhaling in the cold air. But still, it's been six cigarettes in ten days only this week. Horses are not very good with numbers, indeed.
Back in the sleigh, the nobleman's mind is now working frantically. He's suspecting the baroness is having an affair with Egor, the coachman. He's considering coming back earlier from the card game to catch her in the act. But the road is difficult at night, and who's going to drive the sleigh? He cannot keep Egor with him to bring him back, the whole plan would fall apart. And even if he makes it home on his own, and he does catch her, then what? Scandal, gossip, humiliation. And ruin. Everything is hers: the money, the land, the castle and the land (Nadzieja, the baroness, has land in two places). He'd lose everything. A thick puff of smoke from his expensive cigar brings him back from his thoughts. He wouldn't even afford the expensive cigars he enjoys so much.
Nadzieja, near him, can't stand them. They are one pestering vice in the long list of vices her husband is a slave to. All day long they make her cough, and smell badly. On the other hand, she has vices that smell badly, too. Egor, for instance.
And all this time Egor, the centerpiece of all this drama, is blissfully oblivious to everything around him. His only qualm is the cold. And still, it's not that bad. It will be even colder at night on the way to the nobleman's card game. But it will be nice and warm when he gets back. Ah, if he could only get a cigarette. Would there be any left on the beam above the hay stack in the barn?
This twisted yarn would quickly unravel if they all knew what Fedor knew. Fedor is a little white horse. It's not here now. It's at the castle, waiting in the stable for Matvey and Kostya to return. The day is long without them. One day when it was alone, Fedor borrowed a GoPro Hero camera from a rabbit from another dream. While playing in the forest behind the castle, the camera caught Nadzieja and Egor together. The video is blurry and shaky, as horses' hooves are not naturally developed for handling action cameras. But Nadzieja and Egor were shaky, too, and there is enough evidence on the camera. Fedor hid it in the manger, which seems to be a better choice than the beam above the hay stack in the barn. Someday, it may use it. Maybe when it runs out of cigarettes.
Matvey, Kostya and even little Fedor would have no problem dragging Mick Jagger or Garth Brooks.
But we're not. We're talking about sleighing in the Russian countryside. The grand nobleman is smoking big cigars and enjoying the crisp freezing air while the Baroness snugged in fur seems to not enjoy very much the company of her husband. She's secretly thinking about enjoying the coachman later during the night, when the nobleman is out for a game of cards at the neighboring castle, wasting away her inherited fortune; alas, life is really dull in the countryside during winter. Meanwhile, the coachman is shivering at the front struggling to handle the horses and enjoys neither of his passengers. He doesn't have a warm coat nor a cigar. The only things keeping him from freezing are handling the harnesses and the seldom warm air coming from the horses. He knows he'd have to go out again at night to take the nobleman to his game, when it's even colder. And he knows afterwards he may have to go... inside -again- which on second thought is considerably less bad than the merciless frost.
Even more at the front of the convoy there are the horses for whom the ride is a pointless stroll while carrying along useless weight. They are completely oblivious of the triangle of plots and deceit going through the heads of the people they're carrying. If anything, they're slightly bemused by the peasant trying to tell them where to go; they know the road better anyway. Should they get lost in the wood, they'd be home well before the coachman and passengers froze to death on the road.
They have more important things on their mind. Matvey, the horse on the left, is suspecting that Kostya -the horse on the right- has found its stash of cigarettes hidden in the barn (on the beam above the hay stack) and it's skimming it. It can't put his hoof on it, but last time there were ten cigarettes missing. Horses aren't very good with numbers, though, and it's not polite to make accusations without solid evidence. In the meantime, Kostya is wondering whether Matvey suspects anything. Luckily in winter time you cannot really tell from distance the difference between cigarette smoke or steam you're exhaling in the cold air. But still, it's been six cigarettes in ten days only this week. Horses are not very good with numbers, indeed.
Back in the sleigh, the nobleman's mind is now working frantically. He's suspecting the baroness is having an affair with Egor, the coachman. He's considering coming back earlier from the card game to catch her in the act. But the road is difficult at night, and who's going to drive the sleigh? He cannot keep Egor with him to bring him back, the whole plan would fall apart. And even if he makes it home on his own, and he does catch her, then what? Scandal, gossip, humiliation. And ruin. Everything is hers: the money, the land, the castle and the land (Nadzieja, the baroness, has land in two places). He'd lose everything. A thick puff of smoke from his expensive cigar brings him back from his thoughts. He wouldn't even afford the expensive cigars he enjoys so much.
Nadzieja, near him, can't stand them. They are one pestering vice in the long list of vices her husband is a slave to. All day long they make her cough, and smell badly. On the other hand, she has vices that smell badly, too. Egor, for instance.
And all this time Egor, the centerpiece of all this drama, is blissfully oblivious to everything around him. His only qualm is the cold. And still, it's not that bad. It will be even colder at night on the way to the nobleman's card game. But it will be nice and warm when he gets back. Ah, if he could only get a cigarette. Would there be any left on the beam above the hay stack in the barn?
This twisted yarn would quickly unravel if they all knew what Fedor knew. Fedor is a little white horse. It's not here now. It's at the castle, waiting in the stable for Matvey and Kostya to return. The day is long without them. One day when it was alone, Fedor borrowed a GoPro Hero camera from a rabbit from another dream. While playing in the forest behind the castle, the camera caught Nadzieja and Egor together. The video is blurry and shaky, as horses' hooves are not naturally developed for handling action cameras. But Nadzieja and Egor were shaky, too, and there is enough evidence on the camera. Fedor hid it in the manger, which seems to be a better choice than the beam above the hay stack in the barn. Someday, it may use it. Maybe when it runs out of cigarettes.
Matvey, Kostya and even little Fedor would have no problem dragging Mick Jagger or Garth Brooks.
23 March, 2015
Little rabbits
I rarely share personal experiences here. And I won't share one today, either. This is a story happening in the woods. It is about a little rabbit.
There was a little rabbit living in the woods. There are probably more than one, but the story is about a particular one, with short ears and white fur with grey spots. As inspiration hit a minor roadblock at this point, a wicked fox found quickly found out and now the little rabbit is no longer living there. Or anywhere.
Maybe it is time for a personal story.
There are things that can change your life in the course of a second. It's a strange feeling, one you'll never forget. Well, never assuming you live forever. And you manage to avoid Alzheimer or amnesia. Or your life is, indeed, so dull that this is so memorable for such a long time that it seems like forever -although strictly speaking it's not forever.
We met one evening, at some dancing gathering. It was quite late in the winter, it was cold and snowing outside but cozy inside. And it got even warmer and nicer when our eyes met across the room. There was something familiar in that look... And suddenly I remembered when we had met for the first time.
It happened somewhere in the mountains, two years before that dancing evening. There was no snow then, it was autumn and still warm and everything was green. I was walking on a secluded path enjoying the absence of other people when I noticed this cute little rabbit in a clearing. Usually they're shy and vanish quickly at the sight of people. But this time it stayed. It was curious and confused, and kept looking at me. It was in the middle of this precious moment when we first met. It was all sudden and quick, and it ended as quickly as it started. But it's an experience I'll never forget (see explanation above).
I thought I'd never see that fox again (I was talking about a fox, what were you thinking?). Especially at a dancing gathering during winter, among so many people. Foxes don't enjoy the company of people and during winter they fly south or somewhere warm (or drive, depending on their budget).
Sometimes I see that little rabbit in my dreams. It stays there and keeps looking at me. There is no blame in his eyes, it's only curiosity and confusion. If I tell people about the dream they say this is guilt for the death of an innocent being. But this little rabbit in my dreams is different; it's black with brown spots and has a white ear. And its ears are slightly longer. And people who claim they can interpret dreams are frauds, I never trusted them. After they give me their opinion I tell them in the dream the fox is chasing me, not the rabbit. And the little rabbit just stays there, watching us. Eating a proverbial carrot and recording everything with a Hero GoPro4 Black Edition. It's charming how it's struggling to handle the controls with its little paws. And it's surprising what I'm paying attention to while being chased by a fox. I don't trust foxes; they're worse than people who say they can interpret dreams. And one tried to sell me fake currency when I was visiting a foreign country.
Most of the time, though, I have dreams about being in school. I am never prepared for whatever homework I'm supposed to present and worry I would fail and have to study for the summer. Then I wake up relieved when I remember school has been out for many years. An ugly dream is a good way to start a beautiful day.
I guess it was a personal story after all. Or maybe it wasn't. Except for the part about the dragon allergic to unicorns and sandalwood. That was true.
Listening to Clint Mansell music when I'm making up true stories is complicated.
There was a little rabbit living in the woods. There are probably more than one, but the story is about a particular one, with short ears and white fur with grey spots. As inspiration hit a minor roadblock at this point, a wicked fox found quickly found out and now the little rabbit is no longer living there. Or anywhere.
Maybe it is time for a personal story.
There are things that can change your life in the course of a second. It's a strange feeling, one you'll never forget. Well, never assuming you live forever. And you manage to avoid Alzheimer or amnesia. Or your life is, indeed, so dull that this is so memorable for such a long time that it seems like forever -although strictly speaking it's not forever.
We met one evening, at some dancing gathering. It was quite late in the winter, it was cold and snowing outside but cozy inside. And it got even warmer and nicer when our eyes met across the room. There was something familiar in that look... And suddenly I remembered when we had met for the first time.
It happened somewhere in the mountains, two years before that dancing evening. There was no snow then, it was autumn and still warm and everything was green. I was walking on a secluded path enjoying the absence of other people when I noticed this cute little rabbit in a clearing. Usually they're shy and vanish quickly at the sight of people. But this time it stayed. It was curious and confused, and kept looking at me. It was in the middle of this precious moment when we first met. It was all sudden and quick, and it ended as quickly as it started. But it's an experience I'll never forget (see explanation above).
I thought I'd never see that fox again (I was talking about a fox, what were you thinking?). Especially at a dancing gathering during winter, among so many people. Foxes don't enjoy the company of people and during winter they fly south or somewhere warm (or drive, depending on their budget).
Sometimes I see that little rabbit in my dreams. It stays there and keeps looking at me. There is no blame in his eyes, it's only curiosity and confusion. If I tell people about the dream they say this is guilt for the death of an innocent being. But this little rabbit in my dreams is different; it's black with brown spots and has a white ear. And its ears are slightly longer. And people who claim they can interpret dreams are frauds, I never trusted them. After they give me their opinion I tell them in the dream the fox is chasing me, not the rabbit. And the little rabbit just stays there, watching us. Eating a proverbial carrot and recording everything with a Hero GoPro4 Black Edition. It's charming how it's struggling to handle the controls with its little paws. And it's surprising what I'm paying attention to while being chased by a fox. I don't trust foxes; they're worse than people who say they can interpret dreams. And one tried to sell me fake currency when I was visiting a foreign country.
Most of the time, though, I have dreams about being in school. I am never prepared for whatever homework I'm supposed to present and worry I would fail and have to study for the summer. Then I wake up relieved when I remember school has been out for many years. An ugly dream is a good way to start a beautiful day.
I guess it was a personal story after all. Or maybe it wasn't. Except for the part about the dragon allergic to unicorns and sandalwood. That was true.
Listening to Clint Mansell music when I'm making up true stories is complicated.
10 March, 2015
Wait for it...
There is an amazing ritual going on in few remote villages in the central part of the African continent. When a tiger cub is born the entire village sits around the fire all night and celebrate with singing and dancing the new god's coming into this world. Lions and tigers are considered to be divine spirits of the ancient warriors. It is said for the next seven days after no tiger will attack villagers that have taken part in the ritual, even if they happened to get lost -the villagers, not the tigers- in the woods.
Or at least that's what I'd say if I were a local and tourists bugged me with stupid questions. I would also let them know there's an upcoming ritual in a couple of days, which is very lucky and rare for this time of the year -there's actually one every week in full season, usually on Thursdays but it can be adjusted to follow the schedule of larger groups of tourists- and they are most welcome to it for free, as divinity loves everybody no matter where they're from. It's one of the most important events in the village, and not many are lucky to take part in it. This should keep them in the village for a few more days, giving them more opportunity to buy more magic fridge magnets, exotic spices and traditional products crafted items crafted by the villagers. Well, there is a possibility that the factory in China where the magic magnets and traditional products are being made is magic, so there could be some truth this. And although an untrained nose may not sniff differences between the exotic spices and the mixed-grill condiments at M&S, a keen eye will spot the 'exotic' ones are 4 to 7 times more expensive. Which has to stand for something, right? Right.
During the days before the ritual, many interesting activities may be arranged, such as trips around the village, or even in the village, observing the locals in their day-to-day activities, and giving a hand with day-to-day tasks like cooking or helping around. It's refreshing and almost emotional to see several fat blokes scorching outside in the sun, watching a pot of soup boiling over the fire made of wood they gathered and cut themselves not an hour ago. All this for a small amount of money they paid the host for their trouble, but in return they get to eat natural, unspoiled food. Which is awesome, right? Right. The money will help the villagers buy more food and it will also save them from the trouble of using the electric stove which can be problematic in hot days as the electric grid is already overloaded by the fans they keep on in houses where there are no tourists around.
Trips around the village may be also arranged to watch the wild animals roam free and admire the beautiful nature and landscapes. Well, not so many animals as it's still dry season, and the animals are hiding to protect themselves from the sun; the ginger hyena is particularly vulnerable, as is the emo cobra and the gray dermato-chimp; no, it's not made-up, who would do something like that? There's a different reasonable excuse for the wet season, too, but in reality the locals are not stupid to live very close to wild and dangerous animals. Not even near made-up wild animals, but that's their little secret.
Still, there's plenty of spectacular plants to see. The beanstalk that sparkles in the full moon during the rainy season is fascinating. Simply breath-taking, you should come again and see it then. Also, the grape pineapple has some leaves that at the beginning of dry season -not now, unfortunately, you just missed them- curl up and take a shape of a grape, hence the name. Giraffes eat only those, and the fruit will not be harmed. And after ten years since they have bloomed for the first time, the trunks of dwarf banana-trees no longer float in water. This is how the locals know which bananas are better. Young bananas are more flavorful, of course. Also fascinating is the effect on the price of pineapple, beans and young bananas tomorrow at the market. What? No, it was the same price the other day, honestly.
During the evening before the ritual they'd find out the presence of strangers might upset the divinity after all, but the elderly of village could probably sort this out for around 75$/ person. African tigers are very reasonable when it comes to foreign currency. And so are the drunkards that will sing gibberish and 'dance' wearing 'ceremonial clothing' for a couple of hours during the night in front of a fire for 10$.
All in all, a small price to pay for not knowing there are no tigers in Africa.
Or at least that's what I'd say if I were a local and tourists bugged me with stupid questions. I would also let them know there's an upcoming ritual in a couple of days, which is very lucky and rare for this time of the year -there's actually one every week in full season, usually on Thursdays but it can be adjusted to follow the schedule of larger groups of tourists- and they are most welcome to it for free, as divinity loves everybody no matter where they're from. It's one of the most important events in the village, and not many are lucky to take part in it. This should keep them in the village for a few more days, giving them more opportunity to buy more magic fridge magnets, exotic spices and traditional products crafted items crafted by the villagers. Well, there is a possibility that the factory in China where the magic magnets and traditional products are being made is magic, so there could be some truth this. And although an untrained nose may not sniff differences between the exotic spices and the mixed-grill condiments at M&S, a keen eye will spot the 'exotic' ones are 4 to 7 times more expensive. Which has to stand for something, right? Right.
During the days before the ritual, many interesting activities may be arranged, such as trips around the village, or even in the village, observing the locals in their day-to-day activities, and giving a hand with day-to-day tasks like cooking or helping around. It's refreshing and almost emotional to see several fat blokes scorching outside in the sun, watching a pot of soup boiling over the fire made of wood they gathered and cut themselves not an hour ago. All this for a small amount of money they paid the host for their trouble, but in return they get to eat natural, unspoiled food. Which is awesome, right? Right. The money will help the villagers buy more food and it will also save them from the trouble of using the electric stove which can be problematic in hot days as the electric grid is already overloaded by the fans they keep on in houses where there are no tourists around.
Trips around the village may be also arranged to watch the wild animals roam free and admire the beautiful nature and landscapes. Well, not so many animals as it's still dry season, and the animals are hiding to protect themselves from the sun; the ginger hyena is particularly vulnerable, as is the emo cobra and the gray dermato-chimp; no, it's not made-up, who would do something like that? There's a different reasonable excuse for the wet season, too, but in reality the locals are not stupid to live very close to wild and dangerous animals. Not even near made-up wild animals, but that's their little secret.
Still, there's plenty of spectacular plants to see. The beanstalk that sparkles in the full moon during the rainy season is fascinating. Simply breath-taking, you should come again and see it then. Also, the grape pineapple has some leaves that at the beginning of dry season -not now, unfortunately, you just missed them- curl up and take a shape of a grape, hence the name. Giraffes eat only those, and the fruit will not be harmed. And after ten years since they have bloomed for the first time, the trunks of dwarf banana-trees no longer float in water. This is how the locals know which bananas are better. Young bananas are more flavorful, of course. Also fascinating is the effect on the price of pineapple, beans and young bananas tomorrow at the market. What? No, it was the same price the other day, honestly.
During the evening before the ritual they'd find out the presence of strangers might upset the divinity after all, but the elderly of village could probably sort this out for around 75$/ person. African tigers are very reasonable when it comes to foreign currency. And so are the drunkards that will sing gibberish and 'dance' wearing 'ceremonial clothing' for a couple of hours during the night in front of a fire for 10$.
All in all, a small price to pay for not knowing there are no tigers in Africa.
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