Skype to the rescue

Scratch cards and phone cubicles

The first time I got one of those telephone scratch cards to make International calls to Nigeria, I was completely clueless about what to do, then I once walked into one of those international telephony shops in Antwerp, the system did not work for me and the support was dire.

A number of those telephony shops on the Antwerp main street in front of the Central Station now have Police Notices, one can only wonder why - the suspicion is that they might have been havens for all sorts of nefarious activities from Advanced Fee Fraud to Money Laundering.

Anyway, I have had the comfort of my landline to call anywhere I want in the world without worrying about the bill. There have been times that I have made those calls on my mobile phone if situation requires that I do.

The loss of the international telephony service from my landline is definitely not good, most of my contacts are in the UK and then I have friends all around the world including Papua New Guinea (PNG), you say Papua What? Well, he went there and I would only visit to rendezvous at Darwin in Australia - the whole thought of natives picking their teeth with my bones is not in the least endearing.

That is what happens if your knowledge of faraway lands is based on fable, folklore, generalisations and rumour.

Skype, it is

So, I have got me Skype - Internet Telephony, the whole works - ability to call landlines - €0.017 per minute - over most of the globe, call forwarding to my mobile, private phone number in the UK such that with Skype Pro all national calls are free and a Sitecom Skype-compatible USB handset.

Since, I always travel with my laptop and I always try to get online anyhow, Skype is an added capability that means, I do not have to pay exorbitant hotel phone bills or outrageously rip-off mobile roaming charges.

I think I have adopted this technology at the right time; for those who really do need to have completely free calls, get on Skype and get your friends on Skype too, that way, you create networks of free communication for as long as you want.

My week in nut's hell

What a week

The events of the past week have been too difficult to put behind me, as I have ruminated over what I or we could do for my friend to help him, his family in Europe and myself have had thinking caps on trying to identify how to break through the iron curtain of denial and indifference to retrieve by force the man we once knew.

On Monday, I learnt that he had not caught the flight back home from Sunday and he was to have caught on Monday. My concerns were various, most critical being, if the police got involved, I would have been the last to see him; and he having left my home under a cloud would not have made the best reading for any suspicious mind.

Then, I heard he still was in Amsterdam on Monday night but would be catching a flight on Tuesday - thankfully, he arrived home safely on Tuesday, but clammed up to everyone wanted to hear the excuses.

Just as I was about to sigh in relief, I got a letter from my phone company that all international and premium calls would be barred from my phone - this could only be that unusual activity had taken place on a line that they would have had 7 years of records to and they would have noticed a pattern that was completely out of character with my usage.

An incalculable price

I cannot begin to imagine what other price I would have to pay for this whole saga, but this is all now a small thing, compared to the pressing issue of addressing a matter that could slip irretrievably out of our hands.

Meanwhile, I have kept contact with the family because comparing notes between the familial and the friends might help us home in on the core issues.

The bedroom has not seen much activity apart from the fact that I saw another little wad of money which I doubt I put on my shelf, all of which cannot begin to cover the cost of damage to material, goods or friendship.

One email would arrive in my friend's mailbox shortly, not to shoot him down but to awake him to the fact that if he needs help, we are all around to help out; however, this would require some really harsh decisions.

I could not spend the weekend in the house, I am still a bit distressed about it all, so, a long weekend in Antwerp is a breather most welcome.

The challenge of friendship

Not on the plane?

Let us adopt a pseudonym for my friend and suggest the name Bacchus; the irony of this selection should not be lost on anyone.

It would appear that my saga is developing into one that presents additional dilemmas, if I thought my life was begin to look like a soap opera, it is beginning to look like this episode would not end till that fat lady sings - as to who the fat lady is, well, I might just have to sit tight till the end of the show.

Here I was thinking that Bacchus had caught the schedule flight back to his base in Africa yesterday afternoon and my seeming nightmare had come to an end as I was jolted awake with the realities I had to face.

Well, only a few hours ago, I got a call from his brother indicating Bacchus had not arrived - What do you mean, he had not arrived? - Well, he had not caught the flight back home.

Now, I am back in the thick of it because, it would now appear that I am the last person to the knowledge of his people to have seen Bacchus even though he had contacted another relation here that he was ensconced in some hotel and had probably rescheduled his flight.

My hope and out hopes are that he did indeed board a flight in the direction of his base today and should land sometime this evening with everyone sighing in great relief.

Not alone in this

Whilst chatting to Bacchus' brother, we compared and exchanged notes, this lead to a number of revelations chief of which is the fact that Bacchus has over the last 6 to 8 months been losing friends to this misdemeanour of alleged alcohol-induced house thrashing - this is both instructive and quite worrisome.

Worrisome in that there really is an alcohol related big issue here and instructive in that there might be something we can do about this.

We who have had long-standing friendships with Bacchus would recognise that this is not the Bacchus we once knew. Singularly, we have each been visited with a circumstance that is beyond the pale and individually we have struck Bacchus off the list of anyone who would deign to be our friend.

If we now all learn that we are not all alone in this disaster of friendship that has happened upon each of us, do we then all abandon this young man who is clearly in need of help or do we try to find out who we are and band together to help this man out of what is clearly a desperate situation?

If Bacchus is busy wasting away the friends he should be able to call on in times of trouble or when in need of succour or support; would our inaction lead us to point where destruction and grief would leave us culpable as we selfishly remonstrated about the loss of trust when probably should selflessly band together, willing and encouraging Bacchus back to the life that made us very good friends, once upon a time?

Meanwhile, this was again too upsetting to continue at work today and this is the new dilemma.

In a nutshell

Now that I know I am not the only one to have suffered a house-thrashing from my friend in the last 6 months, do I selfishly bemoan my fate or band together with others who suffered to save our friend from a worse fate?

My Bed - Violated

Where is my home?

I scoffed at the thought that a bed could be presented as art, however, in 1998 Tracey Emin did present an unmade bed as art and people did get drawn to that situation.

Tracey Emin - My Bed 1998 © Saatchi Gallery

My bed was released to me this morning by my guest from hell, in fact, it was my home that I got back because I had become a stranger in my own home all because I was being a friend.

I walked into in my kitchen on Saturday morning, eggshells on the floor, red wine all over the tabletops – when my guest appeared from the safety of the master bedroom, I remonstrated about the state of the kitchen, being careful to say, it was no concern of mine how much alcohol he can handle.

It appears he just poured out the last bit of wine in the bottle and returned to the bedroom. So, once again, I had to clean up because I could not use the kitchen in that state.

Then I pulled out the cutlery drawer, wine stains – that was it – I stormed into the room and asked that he be prepared to leave my house in the afternoon.

By then, I had to speak to my best friend in London from a café down the road, I was completely distraught that I ordered food, but could not eat, when I returned, I took what was left of my wine collection in wine cupboard and stored it all in my cellar.

Alcohol regardless

My friend eventually went to the supermarket downstairs, got cans of beer and a bottle of cheap red plonk. In just over 2 days, my “friend” had downed 3 bottles of port, 4 bottles of red wine of which one was a 1998 reserve, 2 bottles of white wine, a bottle of Moët & Chandon champagne which I usually have reserved in the fridge as well as probably 24 cans of lager.

In all, I really only gave him two bottles of white wine, the rest he took without permission, strange that he could drink fine wines when free and when it came to his buying the stuff, the wine could have found better use for dying garments.

There is no doubt, this young man has issues, serious issues which might require professional help, I really do not want to get involved, but I have been drawn into the thick of it. If he had stayed in a hotel, he would get a hefty bill for thrashing the hotel as well as a one for raiding the mini-bar - this man was taking liberties with impunity and I allowed it in my own home.

Used, violated, abused, disrespected and taken advantage of by someone who thought he could use our friendship with contempt and without consideration, contemplation or reflection.

I want to believe that it was not my friend who visited me, but the alcohol that took hold of a rather nice person and turned him into a slob, a monster and an uncaring wreck as he left with the understatement – I know you are uncomfortable with me being here – I could only mutter, safe journey - I wish I had the presence of mind to take photos of everything else I have related.

As he left, I walked into my room and I cried …

I present my bed.

The pillows - he had put the pillowcases in the wash basket

The mattress would probably need to be replaced

Wine stains on the wall, was he doing libations to the gods? The headboard is all covered with the stains too.