Wednesday July 28 2010---Day 7----one week!

 

     We had a terrible night’s sleep. At about 2 am,  another power outage occurred. This time, it never came back on again, so it was getting very hot in our apt with the air conditioner off. We looked outside and the lights in other places were working. We couldn’t understand why our little apt was afflicted with this and not others. Raymond moved to the living room couch and opened the patio door; he did get some relief and was able to fall asleep again. I on the other hand, got sweatier and stickier and felt like I couldn’t breathe. I decided to also open my door which brought in a breeze, even if it was a warm one. The problem with opening a door is that you let in the noises of the night, like the dog barking and the grasshoppers whistling. We later learned that the breaker was down for our apt and the workers downstairs needed to be told  so that it could be  turned back on. Only in Africa! 

     We have a leisurely breakfast this morning, talking about our first week and how we have  overcome  some of the obstacles that come with a move to a third world country.  It has been the most challenging week, as we had to figure everything out by ourselves and everything takes time to understand and then to organize. We sure can be proud of ourselves for having undertaken such a challenge as this, a move to Africa in the most corrupt country at a time of political crisis. At lunch time, we set off to undertake the payment of our television subscription. Organized with our driver and Djana, we start off down the street, only to stop at the end of our street where Bevon knows that a guy  exchanges money right there at the corner. Funny how business is done here. Djana rolls down her window and asks today’s exchange rate, disagrees with the money guy and instantly makes a call on her cell to someone who seems to know about the US exchange rate. Finally, the money guy hands over wads of money to Djana who counts it carefully and gives her final ok; this pile of money is given to us in a little black plastic bag. This looked like  something from a movie, like a deal done on the black market, no pun intended! Raymond hands over his 10 US 100 dollar bills and the deal is done, right there at the street corner as we were driving by. Who would have known? Isn’t life more simple the North American way?

     We continue our drive downtown Conakry to the television business office in the pouring rain, stagnant traffic and huge potholes and mud. I notice people are walking in the puddles, whether they are wearing sandals or shoes. Some women lift their long skirts and some men pull up on their pant legs to facilitate the process of crossing the street. What a mess of mud! This is the rainy season and it goes on for another month like this, so I better get used to it. The television office transaction gets done in 10 minutes with part of the huge wad of money handed over to a naïve young girl who barely knows her job. How frustrating this is! Once this is done, we drive over to the Turkish restaurant with Djana; we want to thank her for all her help so we pay lunch for all of us. It is delicious Turkish food  as it always is and this is an islet of comfort with expatriates sitting  at tables next to us. I could be anywhere in the world right now. I just feel comfortable and happy. As we exit the restaurant, we enter an appliance store. I am looking for an ironing table and an iron. We are astonished at the prices: $130 for an ironing table and $120 for an iron. Dissapointment sets in. I turn to Djana and ask her: “what do you do to iron your clothes?” She answers that she has an iron and uses a towel at the end of a table. My quest for irons is finished for the day. I accept in my mind that I will walk around with wrinkled cotton blouses, linen skirts and pants, so be it. It is a lesson in humility.

     Our last shop of the day is a small store that looks like a Dollar Store. I feel more comfortable here then in the expensive appliance store. Here we buy a broom, a few plastic containers and other household items. A good day is done, but I am getting very restless inside. I want to meet people that live here and I want to get involved. Spending time reading and writing my blog is not enough to keep me happy and energised. Hopefully soon I will meet new people!

 

Thursday July  29 2010----Day 8

     This morning, the television technician is scheduled to arrive at 8:30. I’ll believe it when I see it. By 10 o’clock, no sign of anyone and a few calls revealed that the technician could not come today but he was sending someone else. At 1 oclock technician #2 arrives and works all afternoon; he goes on the roof of the building, connects wires somewhere else in the building and at 4;30 tells us it is time to see how the TV works. He works and works with the remote controls only to tell us that the TV is defective. Raymond is extremely disappointed. What now? We will have to think carefully about this; buying a new TV at $200 is not something we can afford right now. Frustrating though as we had bought this TV from the previous director. The only explanation we can come up with is that it was broken during the move from his apartment to our apartment. 

     Two highlights of my day was meeting Ashmarah the amazing bread maker. I stepped out of the apt around noon to go buy fresh, out of the oven warm baguette and there he was, a big burly man standing in front of his oven with a parade of fresh baguettes lined up in front of him. He handed me a warm baguette for the price of 1,500 Francs (18 cents).  Needless to say, we had a great lunch  of avocado, baguette and fresh tomatoes.   Again, we are enjoying a feast of fresh produce!

        My second highlight was walking to Marche Super Bobo by myself, leaving Raymond in his depressed state over his not yet installed TV. I took my time to really rake through that little store and I found an ironing board and a clothes rack for 200,000 Francs ($30) each. I am pretty excited with this find as today Jeanne and I figured out how to work the washing machine but had to get creative as to how to dry the clothes. We ended up carefully draping the wet clothes over the balcony ledge in the hope that the wind wouldn’t blow our t-shirts and (heaven forbid!) our underwear down in the street!  As I write this, I realize that it must sound petty to report about underwear and socks drying in the sun, but for us everything is a challenge and every success is  met with celebration! I’ve seen people here hang clothing on clothing lines,  lay clothing on the ground and drape it over small bushes. So my own efforts at drying our clothing fall in the normal category, at least according to African standards.