Preparing for the Driving Test

I’ve been meaning to leave confines of my hotel post-work but the street directly in front is as hard to cross as a river.  There is a CONSTANT strum of traffic that include cars, busses, goats, donkey carts, and mopeds that never stops.  I wanted to buy a Coca-Cola Light that was being allegedly sold at a nearby gas station, but after waiting to cross the road for ten minutes, I decided to turn back rather than risk becoming a statistic.

Tomorrow, I am taking a driving test with my organization.  If I pass, I get to drive my own car.  Please pray for me while I try to serpentine my way around this city in high heels.  I am worried I will cause even more accidents to happen, due to my intermittent stopping for every soul within a 10 foot radius of the car.  At that rate, I won’t make it to the office my lunchtime.

To make matters worse, the driving test is in a manual car, stick shift!  Fortunately, my first car was a stickshift.  Unfortunately, I got into ten accidents with that car, the final resulting in a suspension of my license.

The extraordinary in the ordinary

This picture is taken from my hotel window overlooking the hotel parking lot.

50% garage, 50% stable

La cuisine a l’hotel

Mali and most francophone West African countries serve excellent French cuisine, one of the remnants of its colonized past.  You can get authentic French dishes for mere dollars at almost every hotel in the country.  My boyfriend was also a Peace Corps volunteer in West Africa and OFTEN reminisces that his favorite French dish in Africa was Steak au Poivre. Time and time again, I dragged him to one French bistro after another in search of the perfect romantic ambiance for my liking and the perfect Steak au Poivre for him.  He always left slightly disappointed stating, “It was better in Africa.”  Well in the spirit of him,  I ordered Steak au Poivre tonight…and man was it DELICIOUS.  He was right.  No Steak au Poivre in NYC compares to what I ate tonight.  Thanks D!

Don’t judge a book by its cover.  Trust me, it was delicious!

On the other hand, breakfast in West Africa remains a tradition that needs to be altered!  Breakfast means instant coffee (ok), orange juice (good) and a large peace of processed white fluffy bread (EWWW!).  Then again, it was delivered to my room, I love hotels!

NOT the breakfast of champions

I’ve already drank the water

It’s been less than 24 hours since I’ve been in Mali, and I’ve already drank the water. Sometimes even I am amazed by my own actions.  I’ve probably had a cumulative 48 hours of training in my lifetime on the subject of not drinking the water, yet give me a hot burning day and I forget it all.  I never really liked that particular training session anyway.

What was I supposed to do!? I was sitting at a restaurant with my new boss who tells me the house juice is irresistible and asks me if I want a glass.  I am definitely a believer or do as the Romans do so I say, “bottoms up.”   My first poison of choice was an ice cold glass of hibiscus-ginger juice…tres delicious!   Was it worth it?  Definitely.  But ask me again in a couple of days.

Welcome to Africa

Fifteen hours after we left the U.S., our plane landed in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia (my first layover on the journey).  As we got off the plane in Addis, I was shocked to discover that everyone was departing the plane aisle by aisle, row by row.  OMG, order in Africa! Well maybe in East Africa.

Because then I got in the boarding line for the Bamako, Mali flight.  You mean…WHAT LINE!?  Run for your life people, that’s what it felt like!  People were running and pushing and elbowing and screaming to get into the plane, I felt like their lives were being threatened.  I got stepped on, pushed, scratched and finally made it to my seat and plopped down.  As I took a breather and looked around me on the plane, I realized how comfortable I felt in such an uncomfortable world.  Although Ethiopia was exotic, I didn’t know who to talk to, what to say, how to act.  But here on the flight back to my hood, I could immediately join in all the rapport as well as elbow my own way into my seat.

The rest of the trip though good have gone a little better.  Two hours later I entered the airplane bathroom, took one step, slipped and fell.  In West Africa, people use plastic kettles filled with water in lieu of toilet paper to wipe your “you know what”.  As a result, the whole floor was soaked with water.  Eww is right.  Ouch is better.

Seven hours later, we landed in Bamako.  Customs was a breeze, my bags were the first out, and as I reveled in the smoothness of the experience I rushed outside waiting anxiously for my company driver to come pick me up…for 10 minutes, for 30 minutes, for 60 minutes, for 90 minutes…. At that point, I knew the tardiness of my pick up was probably not due to W.A.I.T (West Africa International Time).  I saw a teenage boy lurking around on a cellphone and bought him a card worth $5 in phone credit and asked to use his phone.  I called up my office and after apologies (due to miscommunication, this won’t be the last time!) a driver was on his way.

In the meantime, I was stung by a bumblebee.  By the time my driver appeared, my right arm was swollen and throbbing, I was incredibly dehydrated and I had a crowd of ten boys following me.

We made it to the hotel where I was pleased to find out had wi-fi, hence this blog!  I am off to bed because I begin work tomorrow at 8am!  Wish me better luck than today!

“T.I.A!  This is Africa!” Blood Diamond.

I’m off!

It’s 4:55 am.  Sunday.

Am about to leave for the airport. From there:

Airport – Rome, Italy (8 hours)

Rome, Italy  – Addis Ababa, Ethiopia (6 hours)

Addis Ababa, Ethiopia – Bamako, Mali (7 hours)

For those of you I didn’t talk to personally yesterday, I love you and will miss you.  See you on the flipside!

A farewell letter…to my legs

Dear legs,

I am about to depart on a journey across the world to a land far, far away, and although you will accompany me, you are to remain hidden at all times.  I wanted to write you a farewell letter to thank you for all of the good times we shared the last few years.  You were always the two I could most rely on to make me look good no matter how much I ate that day or how bad I broke out.  Contrary to your colleagues that were all remarkably unpredictable, such as Belly who has an immediate need to stand out and demand attention at even the slightest intake of crumbs, or the Locks who are remarkably bi-polar not only each day but with each passing hour, You my dear legs, never failed to make me look good.   As a result I showed you off often with dozens of short skirts even spoiling you with a last minute pair of short shorts we only managed to wear one month.  You never deserted me in running several miles a day around Central Park or cramping into high heels for a night out in Soho and, as a result, we earned many long stares and peppy catcalls this season.

I must inform you however that your bright golden glow will undoubtedly fade away to a pasty white color within months.  In Mali it is not culturally acceptable to show anything above your calf, and especially no knees!  I know you must be sad but believe me, it is also sad for me to retire you, my long time reliable and trustworthy friends.  I too can no longer rely on you to make me look good and will actually have to begin working on the others in hopes of increasing their reliability in my life.

Please note that the skirts are packed away in a safe and sturdy box that will immediately be opened upon your return to the states.  Until then, fare well under those long layers of fabric.  I look forward to your next appearance.

Love,

Kash

Prescription Meds

I picked up my prescription medication today, that thankfully, my insurance covered.  Despite this, I still spend $225 in copays.  I laughed out loud when I saw the size of bottle below for my Malaria prophylaxis.  Can you guess how long these pills will last me?

Only 4 months of Malaria meds

Reunited

As you may have guessed from my post last Sunday, leaving my boyfriend in NYC was a very emotional experience.  It took me several hours to recover from the experience while sitting on the train (with thanks in part to the sweet girl sitting next to me who timidly pushed her magazine towards me in between my sniffles and said, “Do you want to read my Elle?”  However as soon as I arrived in the city of my training I manically shut off the waterworks and pulled it together.  Since then, I have had an intensive schedule at company headquarters consisting of classes and meetings all day and all week long.  It’s been a very exciting week, gaining momentum with each additional day.  I’ve studied, I’ve laughed, I’ve made new friends and learned new knowledge.  I thought I was doing pretty well.

Until I watched this.

Within seconds, this video triggered a waterfall of tears of Niagara proportions.  I literally exploded and could not stop.  I guess maybe this video unleashed what I was feeling inside but didn’t have the opportunity to face yet.  It’s too similar to an encounter I already imagine happening with my loved ones coincidentally in Africa, no less.

Keeping it real.

I have a serious problem

Overpacking.

It may not be a serious problem for most people, but since my nature is nomadic, it carries more weight (literally) than you think.

So a couple of weeks ago I posted a picture of the 15 shoes I was considering taking to Mali, and asked you all to help me choose up to five pairs.

I got many great suggestions and took them into consideration.  I took them so seriously into consideration, that I clicked on the links you sent and bought more shoes!  Instead of minimizing, I maximized!

So I am leaving in 3 days and below is a photo of the shoes I’ve decided on bringing.  Given the recent baggage restrictions on airlines, I am estimating shoes will take up 50% of my weight limit (kind of like how my Manhattan rent took up 50% of my income).

I know I have a pro

Updated list of shoes

blem, but I have atleast 3 good reasons (outfits) to wear with each set of shoes, so I simply cannot justify leaving a pair behind.

What do you think?

Security and Safety

70% of aid workers in Africa have gotten into serious car accidents, we learned in training yesterday.

GULP

Most people warn me of the numerous illnesses I may catch in Africa: malaria, cholera, Dengue fever, worms, giardiah, amoebas, HIV, scabies etc. (ok, so there are a lot)

BUT

Car accidents are the #1 most dangerous part of living in West Africa for international workers.

In contrast, hippos are the deadliest animal in Africa.  Not lions, nor cheetahs or tigers, but the sweet, slow herbivore HIPPO.  They linger in rivers, including the Niger River in Mali, and are viciously protective of their domain,  aggresively overturning fishing and cargo boats on the river.

In response to the terrifying safety and security talk we received, I  took my profile picture off this blog.  Sorry you all!  I know you may have liked those locks of gold but those locks make me a very visible target in Africa so you’d be surprised at how easy it may be to track one like myself.  This is not to say I won’t post flippnazing photos, but I may use my ridiculously smart sister’s strategy she uses with video’s on her blog…deleting them after a couple of days.

Thanks for understanding!

Temporary Relief

Since I received my assignment in Mali, I have received many perplexed glares of confusion, stares, blatant disbelief and a slew of questions starting and ending with ‘Why?  (Disclaimer: this does not pertain to my family, who have always been 110% supportive of my life).

Well that has come to an end.  I arrived at headquarters today for a week-long training with several other colleagues departing for countries all over the world on similar assignments.  Not only did we have similar assignments abroad, we also shared similar life experiences, educational programs, attitudes, and similar stories on how others react to our choices.  What a relief!  Over dinner tonight, we all exchanged stories of previous stints abroad and what made us want to do it again.  Not only are they all similar in background, they are down-right flipping out of this world COOL!  I felt the same way the day I met my Peace Corps group (scroll down) over 5 years ago in Philadelphia, although unfortunately this time I will not be going abroad WITH the others but alone. It’s nice to be ‘normal’ again.

Anyway, just wanted to check in and let you all know I arrived safely at training and am planning on spending the rest of the night in the bubbling hotel hot tub, followed by a dive into my king sized plush bed and hours of reality cable TV, sipping on Chardonnay and French Onion Soup.  (When my 3rd grade teacher asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I told her I wanted to ‘live in a Holiday Inn.”  I am a sucker for hotel rooms.

Heaven on Earth