Today, I started making friends with the ex-pats I live with. Which is, um, so very, very important to do. We went to this great big market to shop for Halloween Costumes! We were three girls and one boy, so in the end we decided to be Charlie's Angels & Charlie.
None of us could remember what Bosley looked like, so it made more sense to have the boy be Charlie, as he is never seen in the show so we could dress him however. "However" turned out to be in tight women's bell-bottom jeans, a woman's button down shirt, and a woman's suede jacket ($10). Really, it was fun having him try on the clothes in front of the laughing sellers, but also, I think that men in the '70s dressed sort of feminine anyway. And he's carrying a radio, to serve as the intercom from the show.
Buying the crazy high heels shoes and flashy shirts for us girls was insanely funny, too. And exhausting. We spent about three hours navigating the crowded market. And then I had to go to my in-depth security briefing, which actually has gotten put off until tomorrow, but I did have a two-hour contextual briefing. The contextual briefing was so interesting that it actually woke me up after the market, instead of totally wiping me out.
Now there's an hour or two of downtime before leaving for the party. I wonder if there's a couch I can fall asleep on at the party? And then tomorrow AM there's the three-hour-in-Kiswahili church service. And after that my security briefing. And Monday, getting ready for the field. And Tuesday through Saturday, going to the field. I love being busy. I love my life.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Ma Chambre
My bedroom has a very solid door and a deadbolt, and is in the basement, and actually doubles as our compound’s safe room. That is (a) true, and (b) for my father, who has checked this blog 96 times in the last five days, according to my blog-counter. Hi mom & dad!
(Also, to my knowledge, the safe room has never been used, and is not expected to be needed anytime soon. That's why it's a bedroom, now.)
(Also, to my knowledge, the safe room has never been used, and is not expected to be needed anytime soon. That's why it's a bedroom, now.)
Bits & Pieces
NEW KISWAHILI VOCABULARY:
Hello!: Jambo!
Hello back: Jambo san. (***Spelling to be checked)
Welcome: Karibu
Thanks: Asante
My name is Rachel; my name is not Muzungo/MONUC: Jina langu ni Rachel; Jina langu si Mzungu.
How are you?: Habari yako?
I am well: Habari mzuri!
***
I saw the volcano this morning as I walked to work.
The other volcanoes I’ve seen in my life are Mt. Vesuvius and this one in Iceland, where we got to walk up & around the crater, and the ground was warm & a little bit mushy.
***
I had my initial security briefing yesterday, and will have the in-depth one on Saturday afternoon. Now I know some of the things that I am and I am not allowed to do. For example, I am allowed to go with A to his friends’ tailor shop. I am allowed to go with our lovely cook to explore the fruit&veggie market. And for what it’s worth, I am allowed to go to the 3-hour-long Kiswahili church service.
Best of all, next week I get to go into the field for five days! I can’t wait. I get to go up in Nord-Kivu, NNW of Goma, to Kichanga and then as far north as Nyanzale. This is wonderful news.
***
As I was being driven north in Rwanda, from Kigali up to the border & to Goma, a small bird took flight across the road, smashed into the windshield of our car, tumbled down & up & over the roof, and when I spun around, it had landed on the middle of the pavement and was being driven over by another automobile.
Birds NEVER do that at home. Why did it fly in front of the car???
***
Another person told me that he thinks the reason there are so many walls built in Goma is partially to protect people’s homes against the lava, the next time the volcano erupts – since the lava mainly follows the flow of the streets.
Which serves as a reminder to me that there are always far more factors contributing to a situation than one can be aware of.
(You're so welcome for that moral-of-the-day.)
Hello!: Jambo!
Hello back: Jambo san. (***Spelling to be checked)
Welcome: Karibu
Thanks: Asante
My name is Rachel; my name is not Muzungo/MONUC: Jina langu ni Rachel; Jina langu si Mzungu.
How are you?: Habari yako?
I am well: Habari mzuri!
***
I saw the volcano this morning as I walked to work.
The other volcanoes I’ve seen in my life are Mt. Vesuvius and this one in Iceland, where we got to walk up & around the crater, and the ground was warm & a little bit mushy.
***
I had my initial security briefing yesterday, and will have the in-depth one on Saturday afternoon. Now I know some of the things that I am and I am not allowed to do. For example, I am allowed to go with A to his friends’ tailor shop. I am allowed to go with our lovely cook to explore the fruit&veggie market. And for what it’s worth, I am allowed to go to the 3-hour-long Kiswahili church service.
Best of all, next week I get to go into the field for five days! I can’t wait. I get to go up in Nord-Kivu, NNW of Goma, to Kichanga and then as far north as Nyanzale. This is wonderful news.
***
As I was being driven north in Rwanda, from Kigali up to the border & to Goma, a small bird took flight across the road, smashed into the windshield of our car, tumbled down & up & over the roof, and when I spun around, it had landed on the middle of the pavement and was being driven over by another automobile.
Birds NEVER do that at home. Why did it fly in front of the car???
***
Another person told me that he thinks the reason there are so many walls built in Goma is partially to protect people’s homes against the lava, the next time the volcano erupts – since the lava mainly follows the flow of the streets.
Which serves as a reminder to me that there are always far more factors contributing to a situation than one can be aware of.
(You're so welcome for that moral-of-the-day.)
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wow-o-wow-o-wow!
Within 52 hours this week, I was in seven cities. Baltimore to DC to Roma to Addis to Entebbe to Kigali to Goma.
Friday at 6 pm, I was told I would fly out of DC on Monday at 9 am.
Yesterday (Wednesday) morning, I was driven up Rwanda through Kisenyi to Goma.
Tonight, with three ex-pat colleagues, we recrossed the border to frequent a Kisenyi bar.
We had to be driven to the Congo-Rwanda border, but once in Rwanda we could walk in the street, even though it was nighttime. It was rather lovely.
(The colleagues I went with are all French speakers, and they periodically switched to English for my sake, but every time they did I attempted to answer in French.)
Really. Getting to cross the Congo-Rwanda border in the twilight, and run free through the streets of Kisenyi, and enjoy a pleasant meal, and then return to a room of my own in a big house on the shore of the spectacular Lake Kivu -- who in the world isn't jealous of me?
Friday at 6 pm, I was told I would fly out of DC on Monday at 9 am.
Yesterday (Wednesday) morning, I was driven up Rwanda through Kisenyi to Goma.
Tonight, with three ex-pat colleagues, we recrossed the border to frequent a Kisenyi bar.
We had to be driven to the Congo-Rwanda border, but once in Rwanda we could walk in the street, even though it was nighttime. It was rather lovely.
(The colleagues I went with are all French speakers, and they periodically switched to English for my sake, but every time they did I attempted to answer in French.)
Really. Getting to cross the Congo-Rwanda border in the twilight, and run free through the streets of Kisenyi, and enjoy a pleasant meal, and then return to a room of my own in a big house on the shore of the spectacular Lake Kivu -- who in the world isn't jealous of me?
Church
My new colleague, A, in the Grants Department, has been the most welcoming to me. It helps, I guess, that we share an office. He is Congolese, and fluent in English, although I attempt French with him and he speaks French slowly, patiently back to me. (My French isn’t a complete disaster, but it’s not great, either.) He likes photography and just got a camera, so we have taken breaks from work to photograph birds, clouds, and mountains from the balcony off our office. He’s been very helpful in explaining some of the quirks of this city to me. (He says that there are walls everywhere, partially because the volcano erupting made rock free, plentiful & accessible to everyone! People build walls because they can.)
A asked me this morning if I am “a believer”, to which I said an emphatic “no”. I’m not religious & I don’t believe in God, as it were. I feel a bit mystified by people who think that the Bible, the Quran, the Talmud, the Whatever, are factual. But. I did sometimes go to Mass when I lived in Kitgum – I lived across a dirt road from a Catholic Church. Not because I believe anything, but because I liked feeling a part of the wider Kitgum community, even a little bit.
I was raised Catholic, and Catholic services are pretty much the same worldwide. Latin doesn’t change. What are the implications of this dissemination of belief? Probably mainly tragic. (You’d have to ask my brilliant academic friend Gwen about that.) But selfishly for me – honestly – it’s kind of nice. In the middle of Lithuania, in the middle of northern Uganda, I can go take part in a ritual just like the rituals of my childhood, and be in my home culture, for a bit.
In Kitgum, before Mass, folks would gather in the church courtyard. I’d mingle, exchanging pleasantries and small talk with the grocers, the tailors, the women I knew from the vegetable market. I’d make new acquaintances. The children I knew from the streets around my office would hang off my arms. One Sunday, Gloria, a toddler, hid behind my skirts shyly when a local woman she didn’t know approached her, and my heart burst with love for her – and with gratitude for her sweet acceptance of me, not as a foreigner, but as a neighbor, an adult she trusted.
I told a lot of this to A, and he invited me to come to his church on Sunday. I reiterated that I really don’t believe in religion, and he said that he didn’t care; it didn’t matter. He then warned me that the service goes on for three hours and is in Kiswahili, of which I speak maybe three words. I responded that probably, then, I would only go once and never go back; he laughed.
I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to go. I won’t have had my initial security briefing until late this afternoon. And if I’m not allowed to go, then that’s fine. I’ll never ignore security mandates; that wouldn’t be fair to my colleagues or my supervisors. But it’s a bit of a relief to imagine seeing more of the city that the big house, the huge office, and the ridiculous Western grocery store.
A asked me this morning if I am “a believer”, to which I said an emphatic “no”. I’m not religious & I don’t believe in God, as it were. I feel a bit mystified by people who think that the Bible, the Quran, the Talmud, the Whatever, are factual. But. I did sometimes go to Mass when I lived in Kitgum – I lived across a dirt road from a Catholic Church. Not because I believe anything, but because I liked feeling a part of the wider Kitgum community, even a little bit.
I was raised Catholic, and Catholic services are pretty much the same worldwide. Latin doesn’t change. What are the implications of this dissemination of belief? Probably mainly tragic. (You’d have to ask my brilliant academic friend Gwen about that.) But selfishly for me – honestly – it’s kind of nice. In the middle of Lithuania, in the middle of northern Uganda, I can go take part in a ritual just like the rituals of my childhood, and be in my home culture, for a bit.
In Kitgum, before Mass, folks would gather in the church courtyard. I’d mingle, exchanging pleasantries and small talk with the grocers, the tailors, the women I knew from the vegetable market. I’d make new acquaintances. The children I knew from the streets around my office would hang off my arms. One Sunday, Gloria, a toddler, hid behind my skirts shyly when a local woman she didn’t know approached her, and my heart burst with love for her – and with gratitude for her sweet acceptance of me, not as a foreigner, but as a neighbor, an adult she trusted.
I told a lot of this to A, and he invited me to come to his church on Sunday. I reiterated that I really don’t believe in religion, and he said that he didn’t care; it didn’t matter. He then warned me that the service goes on for three hours and is in Kiswahili, of which I speak maybe three words. I responded that probably, then, I would only go once and never go back; he laughed.
I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to go. I won’t have had my initial security briefing until late this afternoon. And if I’m not allowed to go, then that’s fine. I’ll never ignore security mandates; that wouldn’t be fair to my colleagues or my supervisors. But it’s a bit of a relief to imagine seeing more of the city that the big house, the huge office, and the ridiculous Western grocery store.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Goma: The Weirdest Place I Have Ever Been
Constant electricity. Running water. Functional street lamps. Blue helmets walking up and down streets with their rifles out. A super-market with everything -- EVERYTHING -- that I bought at the last minute and packed for myself, thinking I'd never be able to purchase it here. (Things here are paid for with US Dollars.) Spectacular views. Guards following us as we walk the half-a-block to the office. A guard tower at the office. It's so weird.
I don't think I'm going to get to know my neighbors...
I don't think I'm going to get to know my neighbors...
Arrived in Goma at noontime.
The drive up from Kigali, and the view out across Lake Kivu – spectacular. Rwanda is unbelievably picturesque, with muddy streams slicing green hills – waterfalls & hillside-farms – even in the rain, it’s lovely.
(We’re in the 2nd month of the 6-month rainy season – great timing on my part! Ugh.)
It stopped raining just as I got into Goma. I have two new stamps in my passport (exiting Rwanda, entering Congo) and many, many, many thoughts in my head!
To be honest, I’m COMPLETELY overwhelmed. The office is HUGE. The house is HUGE. The house is right on Lake Kivu. Freaking hummingbirds* fly out over the lake! We can swim in it, just not put our heads underwater, because it’s filled with poisonous gases and we may drown.
My new supervisor gave me a tour of the office and introduced me to oh about 50 bazillion of my new colleagues. So far, I have remembered exactly zero people’s names.
I came out of the house after lunch to walk to the office, and one of the women I work with now was in the garden, crying. I don’t know why. I don’t know what was up. But she is totally my new favorite colleague. Because eventually I’m going to get so overwhelmed that I start to cry – thank god I saw her doing it first! That will make me feel far less stupid once I do it.
*UPDATE: Um, apparently, they're Kingfishers. Still awesome, though.
(We’re in the 2nd month of the 6-month rainy season – great timing on my part! Ugh.)
It stopped raining just as I got into Goma. I have two new stamps in my passport (exiting Rwanda, entering Congo) and many, many, many thoughts in my head!
To be honest, I’m COMPLETELY overwhelmed. The office is HUGE. The house is HUGE. The house is right on Lake Kivu. Freaking hummingbirds* fly out over the lake! We can swim in it, just not put our heads underwater, because it’s filled with poisonous gases and we may drown.
My new supervisor gave me a tour of the office and introduced me to oh about 50 bazillion of my new colleagues. So far, I have remembered exactly zero people’s names.
I came out of the house after lunch to walk to the office, and one of the women I work with now was in the garden, crying. I don’t know why. I don’t know what was up. But she is totally my new favorite colleague. Because eventually I’m going to get so overwhelmed that I start to cry – thank god I saw her doing it first! That will make me feel far less stupid once I do it.
*UPDATE: Um, apparently, they're Kingfishers. Still awesome, though.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
