TristanHumphreys

Prynhawn da! Sut wyt ti?

No, its not a typo, its Welsh. I'm back home in wet and windy Wales and in honour of this development I've decided to crowbar everyone of the handful of welsh phrases I know into this blog. So be prepared for some confusion, get ready to learn some useful phrases and please god don't read this aloud if you've got a cold!

The reason I'm back here you see is, in part, down to my wonderful poverty challenge. Having decided to devolve my decisions to others, most of the requests so far have proven pretty cruel. But readers, there is one person you can rely on to be nice when all about are sabotaging your cups of tea. That person, much like the punchline to many a crude joke, is your mum. Yep, in her supreme wisdom my Mum requested I return home for the weekend and as we all know, rules are rules. So I'm sitting here in my cosy home, while the rain lashes the hillside outside and I'm enjoying, you've guessed it, a nice, cornflake free, cup of tea. Rydw i'n hoffi Te!

Its not all been plain sailing though, my brothers are both home so I was made to clean the kitchen and virtually act as my little brother's personal dogsbody for most of yesterday evening. I did the shopping for Mum last night and on my return made special hot chocolate for everyone and tidied my little brother's bedroom. No marcarenas or public sing songs though and I am home so I certainly cant complain.

Indeed its exactly because I feel I might have gotten away with a bit courtesy of my none too demanding family that I've decided  to invite you, the reader, to get involved. For the final few days of my challenge I want you to let me know if you have any requests of me by commenting on this blog. Assuming they're not likely to endanger my life, I will do all I can to follow them.

I look forward to hearing your suggestions and until then Diolch yn fawr a hwyl fawr am nawr!

I want a cup of tea and I don't want to do the washing up.

I also don't want to finish that chest of drawers I've been promising to paint for weeks. Yet despite my protestations, my girlfriend seems to have taken this week as an opportunity to redress the domestic balance of power.

Having made me wear a leopard print scarf to work on Tuesday, her latest change of tactic is at least less embarrassing for me and in truth it really shouldn't take a week long challenge to ensure I keep the flat a bit tidier. I have been asked to, amongst other things, clean the flat, make tea, wash up, do the washing and even paint our chest of draws.

Yet to be honest none of these were things that didn't need doing anyway and in the spirit of the challenge, her decision is final. So I will keep on with the chores and who knows maybe I'll be doing a bit more of my fair share next week too.

After all, as Lewis Carson has adeptly pointed out, many women across the world are responsible for not only the majority of childcare and domestic duties in the home but they also have juggle this with full time employment. His blog is definitely worth a read and I for one am looking forward to seeing what requests the office doll out for him tomorrow. Oh, and if a certain Adam 'tea ruiner' Lewis is reading, jealousy is not an excuse to be mean.

Meanwhile, my chores are over. Well, until tomorrow at least.

Someone once said 'what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger'. I don't know who said it but I'm pretty sure they weren't referring to the act of performing the macarena in front of the whole office. 

In fact far from making me stronger the whole routine threatened to leave me with a mild case of repetitive strain disorder. That's not all either, when it came time for the tea round mine came complete with a bobbing ball of chocolate cornflakes in it all courtesy of Adam Lewis, who doesn't even drink tea (particularly not this week as he's only on the water. You'll have to check his blog out for more on that though).

 I suppose it doesn't sound too bad which is why I want to make it abundantly clear that it was. Genuinely, I had to pour the whole thing away after one sip and this comes from someone who once happily glugged on a glass of wine made from the very part of a dear's anatomy that ought never to go near a wine glass. Ever. But maybe I'll save that story for another blog. 

These are just a couple of things I was asked to do today, though the truth is there were many more requests I refused. For instance, I wouldn't sacrifice my lunch despite being asked to do so, I refused to give up my chair for the afternoon and I even delayed the macarena itself for at least a couple of hours. In fact,  I didn't really do very well at all today. Any of the challenges that actually required me to put myself out, I politely or sometimes not so politely declined.

You see, It turns out not having any choice can prove pretty humiliating and I suppose ultimately, that's the point. I am lucky enough to sidestep the more uncomfortable impositions, millions aren't. 

Note to self for tomorrow: must try harder. 

Today my poverty challenge began, or as my girlfriend now refers to it, 'tell Tristan what to do week'. I'm tempted to make a joke about this being an average week in our flat but in the spirit of the challenge I've been told I'm not allowed to. You see I've challenged myself to let others make all my decisions for me this week.

As frivolous as it might be, the underlying point is more serious. Millions worldwide live in poverty, lacking access to health and education and without the luxury of making simple choices. Given this, I had hoped that today in the office would be pretty easy going, what with it being full of fellow Oxfamers, but it turns out they can be surprisingly mean when its for a good cause.

It started with me being made to make tea for the whole office and before long it had developed into the insistence that I sing a song in front of my colleagues. Naturally I insisted I only knew Manchester United chants and after a few renditions of 'Follow, Follow', my Liverpool supporting colleague decided it was time I paid the price.

So by the end of the day I had not only made tea for the office and sung in front of colleagues but ultimately and ashamedly, I had praised Liverpool as the greatest side in the British game.  Yet as bad as this might have been, it will surely only be a footnote in a week in which the luxury of my choice has been removed. 

As I speak my girlfriend is picking out my outfit for tomorrow. Did someone say leopard print scarf?

Having all my decisions made by the nearest person I know could be very intersting. I really mean ALL decisions. From what colour socks to wear

to what to eat

to how much money to spend.

I am doing it to get a tiny glimpse into what it must feel like not to be in control of your own life.