Le 20 septembre 2007
I know I’ve already written about the frogs here, but I have to write about them just one more time because they really crack me up. Every morning and evening das gleiche Theater! High traffic in and out of the house, although I’ve managed to keep them out of my room by catching them at the entrance way. At night, when there is hardly any light in the house, or especially when there is a power outage – which happens often – I have to watch my step because they’re everywhere! To my left, to the right, in front of me; it’s like I’m on the highway or something except that they don’t respect lanes.
Next to the TV there is a little table where every evening, around 10 frogs assemble. I finally figured out why: above the TV is a bright neon light which attracts hundreds of tiny flies, and once they drop dead (probably because they fried to death) and land on the floor right behind the little table, the frogs have a feast. Now that they have a purpose in our house, I quite enjoy their presence, although I do fear that I will step on one of the one of these days. And then who will eat the frog?
I’m finally starting to grow into my role at CARE. I basically oversee all the administrative staff, the guards, the drivers, etc. I also take care of contracts – contract renewals, contracts with construction companies to build latrines in refugee camps for example, making sure that goods are delivered to the camps on time, staff leave, and all other aspects that ensure the office operation runs smoothly. In two weeks I will visit a few of the refugee camps CARE manages around a town called Iriba, just east of here closer to the Darfur border. When you spend so much time in an office, it’s easy to forget what cause you’re working for, so these types of visits are important to me.
My work day begins at 7:30 a.m. and I generally leave at 6 p.m. Saturday is a work day here too or at least half the day. Once 9 p.m. rolls around, I’m so pooped that I go to bed. It’s the heat I tell you. Unbelievable how people can live in these conditions year in year out… I guess they’re used to it. I’m slowly adjusting, but it’ll take another few weeks before I don’t sweat just breathing.
I have to write about the men here. How they hold hands with each other in the streets as they stroll among dozing donkies and diesel-spewing motorcycles made in Taiwan. Even though I’ve done a fair bit of travelling, it’s still such an unusual sight for me, especially when I see a young man carrying a Kalashnikov holding his friend’s hand, I just can’t help but smile at the paradox. A man who symbolizes such force and who at the same time is capable of displaying such a gesture of affection… it’s endearing.
Saturday I plan on going to the market to see what veggies and fruits we can buy for the house. I look forward to walking a little, after spending so much time at the office or at home. It’s easy to feel confined with the curfew. Ramadan is in its full course. I drove pas the market this evening and it was a party – whole goats and sheep and cows roasting and children running around, music playing. This is what they wait for all day. Come 1 p.m., my staff start looking at their watches and concentration diminishes to a frustrating level. I can’t imagine going through that! I who love eating and who start feeling faint if I haven’t eaten by 1 p.m. And no water in this heat is completely unimaginable for me!
Men pray five times a day. I often see them standing in a row or on their knees reciting Allahu Albar – God is great – over and over again. The devotion is immense and I wonder how people so dedicated to prayer are capable of such cruelty towards their own men, women and children.
There is not a single traffic light in Abéché. If you cross an intersection, you honk until everyone sees you’re coming. I’ve seen a few close calls, especially with donkies who will only move once you touch them with your vehicles. There are also no street signs here, not a single one. When you have to describe to someone where to pick you up, you either tell them what building you’re next to, i.e. the Red Cross and if you’re lucky they know where that is, or you tell them to take the main road north, pass the bridge, to the right is the white tower of one of the mosques, turn right, second house on the left, something like that. Once night falls, it’s nearly impossible top find anything because they’re no lights. It took friends of mine 45 minutes to find me last night because none of the landmarks made sense. I ended up asking one of the guards to walk me to an antenna that had three red lights on it. And that is finally where they found me.
My dear cook’s eldest daughter died on Sunday which made me feel very sad. His eyes were filled with tears when he told us, so I hugged him, which is totally un-customary here, but I couldn’t help myself. She was only 17, and nobody really knows what she died of. It could have been AIDS, or Malaria… He’s taken 10 days off to mourn. I wish I could give him more. And then my other colleague’s uncle died on Tuesday, and he was only 35 and nobody knows the cause of death either. There are no doctors to perform diagnoses like in Canada. Death is just accepted as part of life; it happens so much here, so easily, just like that. One of the Chadian nurses here told me that not too long ago, the national government launched a campaign against condoms claiming that they were responsible for the spread of HIV and AIDS. It’s astounding how deep cultural traditions run in this country. It is simply not acceptable to use unnatural methods of contraception. No thinking goes beyond that, and the people have to deal with the consequences.
My stomach problems have subsided completely. After two weeks of suffering, I took a fabulously high dose of antibiotics as prescribed by my Canadian travel doctor and that put a definite end to my uncomfortable condition. I’m a lot happier now. My finger has healed too.
Have I already mentioned that I never speak English here? All communication is done in French and Arabic, except that I don’t speak Arabic, so it’s all in French for me. Strange not to speak any English… I found it hard at the beginning, but now I’m starting to think in French and my staff try to teach me new Arabic words every day. I think they appreciate my effort and I appreciate their patience.
I’m off to bed now. It’s searingly hot in my room and I have no idea how I will fall asleep, but I somehow managed last night. I usually place a wet cloth on my face. It also helps with the dust.
Missing you all. Thank you for your comments and e-mails. Even though I have little time to respond individually, I love getting updates and hearing about life back in my beautiful home country – Canada. You mean a lot to me.
Xoxoxo, Anne
I know I’ve already written about the frogs here, but I have to write about them just one more time because they really crack me up. Every morning and evening das gleiche Theater! High traffic in and out of the house, although I’ve managed to keep them out of my room by catching them at the entrance way. At night, when there is hardly any light in the house, or especially when there is a power outage – which happens often – I have to watch my step because they’re everywhere! To my left, to the right, in front of me; it’s like I’m on the highway or something except that they don’t respect lanes.
Next to the TV there is a little table where every evening, around 10 frogs assemble. I finally figured out why: above the TV is a bright neon light which attracts hundreds of tiny flies, and once they drop dead (probably because they fried to death) and land on the floor right behind the little table, the frogs have a feast. Now that they have a purpose in our house, I quite enjoy their presence, although I do fear that I will step on one of the one of these days. And then who will eat the frog?
I’m finally starting to grow into my role at CARE. I basically oversee all the administrative staff, the guards, the drivers, etc. I also take care of contracts – contract renewals, contracts with construction companies to build latrines in refugee camps for example, making sure that goods are delivered to the camps on time, staff leave, and all other aspects that ensure the office operation runs smoothly. In two weeks I will visit a few of the refugee camps CARE manages around a town called Iriba, just east of here closer to the Darfur border. When you spend so much time in an office, it’s easy to forget what cause you’re working for, so these types of visits are important to me.
My work day begins at 7:30 a.m. and I generally leave at 6 p.m. Saturday is a work day here too or at least half the day. Once 9 p.m. rolls around, I’m so pooped that I go to bed. It’s the heat I tell you. Unbelievable how people can live in these conditions year in year out… I guess they’re used to it. I’m slowly adjusting, but it’ll take another few weeks before I don’t sweat just breathing.
I have to write about the men here. How they hold hands with each other in the streets as they stroll among dozing donkies and diesel-spewing motorcycles made in Taiwan. Even though I’ve done a fair bit of travelling, it’s still such an unusual sight for me, especially when I see a young man carrying a Kalashnikov holding his friend’s hand, I just can’t help but smile at the paradox. A man who symbolizes such force and who at the same time is capable of displaying such a gesture of affection… it’s endearing.
Saturday I plan on going to the market to see what veggies and fruits we can buy for the house. I look forward to walking a little, after spending so much time at the office or at home. It’s easy to feel confined with the curfew. Ramadan is in its full course. I drove pas the market this evening and it was a party – whole goats and sheep and cows roasting and children running around, music playing. This is what they wait for all day. Come 1 p.m., my staff start looking at their watches and concentration diminishes to a frustrating level. I can’t imagine going through that! I who love eating and who start feeling faint if I haven’t eaten by 1 p.m. And no water in this heat is completely unimaginable for me!
Men pray five times a day. I often see them standing in a row or on their knees reciting Allahu Albar – God is great – over and over again. The devotion is immense and I wonder how people so dedicated to prayer are capable of such cruelty towards their own men, women and children.
There is not a single traffic light in Abéché. If you cross an intersection, you honk until everyone sees you’re coming. I’ve seen a few close calls, especially with donkies who will only move once you touch them with your vehicles. There are also no street signs here, not a single one. When you have to describe to someone where to pick you up, you either tell them what building you’re next to, i.e. the Red Cross and if you’re lucky they know where that is, or you tell them to take the main road north, pass the bridge, to the right is the white tower of one of the mosques, turn right, second house on the left, something like that. Once night falls, it’s nearly impossible top find anything because they’re no lights. It took friends of mine 45 minutes to find me last night because none of the landmarks made sense. I ended up asking one of the guards to walk me to an antenna that had three red lights on it. And that is finally where they found me.
My dear cook’s eldest daughter died on Sunday which made me feel very sad. His eyes were filled with tears when he told us, so I hugged him, which is totally un-customary here, but I couldn’t help myself. She was only 17, and nobody really knows what she died of. It could have been AIDS, or Malaria… He’s taken 10 days off to mourn. I wish I could give him more. And then my other colleague’s uncle died on Tuesday, and he was only 35 and nobody knows the cause of death either. There are no doctors to perform diagnoses like in Canada. Death is just accepted as part of life; it happens so much here, so easily, just like that. One of the Chadian nurses here told me that not too long ago, the national government launched a campaign against condoms claiming that they were responsible for the spread of HIV and AIDS. It’s astounding how deep cultural traditions run in this country. It is simply not acceptable to use unnatural methods of contraception. No thinking goes beyond that, and the people have to deal with the consequences.
My stomach problems have subsided completely. After two weeks of suffering, I took a fabulously high dose of antibiotics as prescribed by my Canadian travel doctor and that put a definite end to my uncomfortable condition. I’m a lot happier now. My finger has healed too.
Have I already mentioned that I never speak English here? All communication is done in French and Arabic, except that I don’t speak Arabic, so it’s all in French for me. Strange not to speak any English… I found it hard at the beginning, but now I’m starting to think in French and my staff try to teach me new Arabic words every day. I think they appreciate my effort and I appreciate their patience.
I’m off to bed now. It’s searingly hot in my room and I have no idea how I will fall asleep, but I somehow managed last night. I usually place a wet cloth on my face. It also helps with the dust.
Missing you all. Thank you for your comments and e-mails. Even though I have little time to respond individually, I love getting updates and hearing about life back in my beautiful home country – Canada. You mean a lot to me.
Xoxoxo, Anne
3 commentaires:
Anne, you are amazing! I can't believe you are in Africa. Take care of yourself and keep posting. Love the pics.
dear sweet Anne,
thank you for these wonderful updates. i'm trying to keep up with all of them. i'm so glad to hear that you're in better health and are enjoying the work environment. it must be wonderful to live in French all the time. miss that in my life. that's super that you're learning a bit of arabic too. the photos are wonderful. that's so sweet and funny about the frogs! very cute... although i hope it is not too annoying for you. a lot of what you wrote makes me think about being in africa. i feel nostalgic about it and can't help but feel envious at the same time! would love to be there. i can completely relate to those differences between "here" and "there" that you described in your blog. i'm sure it makes your experience all the more richer. it is all these cultural differences that make life so interesting.
we'll chat soon when you post your next update.
lots of love, hugs and kisses to you
laura
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