|Signs of forced entry on the patio door|
We had to wait a while down at the police station. Having spent time overseas, the police station was a strange experience. Everything moved at a slow pace. The wide wood counter had no mesh or screening between the police (working at school like desks) and the public entrance. You could walk around into the office if you liked but there was nothing of interest there.
I asked for a photocopy of the report and the officer had to go and get one piece of paper from the locked supplies cupboard, insert it in the machine, make one copy and return it to me. It took a long while.
|The Big Beetle Wren wanted|
to bring home to Seattle
Meanwhile, Wren examined things he found in the dirt outside. There was a big beetle, upended, who we helped back onto its feet. Joshua felt a beetle that size would have to eat protein, Wren thought it ate ants, I thought it ate rotten vegetables and leaves. I don't know who is right.
|The boys examine dead insects and the Big Beetle|
(perhaps there because a bright light had been on overnight
which attracts all the African insects).
When I told Josh we had been robbed, he was still in bed asleep on his second morning in South Africa. He leapt out of bed as if we were under attack. By the time we reached the police station, things were catching up with him.
|Josh is thinking about all the possible financial exposure|
from my unsecured laptop.