This is a Liboke (packaged fish in manioc leaves) along with the local beer (quite tasty). I took the picture from inside my handbag. A couple of meters behind us, stood a scary looking military man.
March 30, 2005
March 28, 2005
Pet Peeve
Man oh man, I have so many things to tell you about my last three days in the DRC (not to mention that I would like to post my clandestine pictures very soon!). However, I forgot my laptop where I had written the new post and the thought of having to rewrite it again is disheartening.
My pet peeve is when people don't update their blog regularly. Which explains this seemingly useless entry :)
My pet peeve is when people don't update their blog regularly. Which explains this seemingly useless entry :)
March 23, 2005
Still Green!
**First taste of Congolese food**
A colleague invited us to his little apartment to try a variety of Congolese foods cooked by his maid. The table was overflowing with fish, strange cheesy-looking squares of cooked dough and various sauces. The whole dinner was set to Congolese music videos with a big woman signing and strutting to New York backdrop (blue screen no doubt). The fish is very common and considered a delicacy. It's an ocean fish called Thompson, and since the DRC has no oceans (don't be embarrassed to take a look at a map), they receive it frozen from Namibia and sometimes Angola. The cheesy dough with the consistency of rubber was in fact a kind of bread made from Manioc flour. It tastes slightly sour and is said to give constipation in no time flat. Considering my chronic "intestinal issue from Senegal", I made sure to load up on that (see previous "BRAT" diet posts). It is called Chiwangue (or in Lingala, Kwanga).
**Maluku**
The first Sunday there, we organized a trip to see the little town of Muluku right on the border of the country, separated by Congo-Brazzaville by a river where people fish and transport logs by letting them float along the current. As we paused by the side of the road, a police man, with loaded gun, comes up to us and points to my friend's camera. Apparently, it's illegal to take pictures in the Congo. My friend adamantly swore that she was just looking at some old pictures of previous trips to London and we managed to leave without paying the ubiquitous bribe.
Our lunch in Maluku was lovely. We sat on rickety chairs, under a thatched roof covered with plastic. The river was quiet and calm, reflecting the hills of the Congo-Brazzaville and the few pirogues that navigated it. Six pirogues were lying in wait of their owners by the side of the river. It was so picturesque, the water filling a holed pirogue reflecting the green, the clouds and the people. I tell you, it was almost begging me to take a picture.
It was a test of will not to whip out my trusty camera.
We ate fish that was still witching just moments before, wrapped in bundles of manioc leaves and left to simmer on a coal barbecue made from old petroleum kegs. Finally, after hours of having itchy fingers, I just cracked. I went for a walk by myself hoping to catch a clandestine shot of the area. Very quickly, friends joined me on my log to stare at the water. I snapped a quick picture on the scenery. I didn’t have much time to center or crop because there were soldiers around so I hope you'll excuse the results.
**Security Briefing**
The first day at work consisted mainly of a long, extended security briefing.
Amongst the things one needs to watch out for:
-Picking up soldiers in your car (even if they insist and are armed)
-Walking. Anywhere.
-Having too much money in your pocket yet having enough to "get yourself out of a sticky siuation"
-Taking public transportation or taxis
-Letting malaria-filled mosquitoes bite me
Things I have to do:
-Store enough dry food and water to last a week should unforeseen events keep you indoor (read: political upheavals)
-Notify the security guy if I intend to take a trip to the supermarket. To the store. To your house. To the gym. To the toilet.
-Lock my door behind me as well as the large steel grate in front of it (and, if the need arises, slide the heavy metal wall outside my apartment to cut off access of stairs to outsiders)
Oy! Some much for my love of independence... Hey, at least I get to walk to work.
Scene: Office in DRC
Person 1: We have not seen Employee in 3.42 seconds, alert authorities, alert authorities!
Person 2: Activate security procedures B12 NOW, we have a floater, I repeat, WE HAVE A FLOATER!
Cue: Alarm bells and red strobe lights sweep the entire office, a panicked crowd starts to gather close to the exits.
A sound of a flush is heard and employee X open the door to the women's toilet, looking a little perplexed and embarrassed.
Employee X: Sorry folks, I apologize for not alerting the chief of security that I was taking a dump.
A colleague invited us to his little apartment to try a variety of Congolese foods cooked by his maid. The table was overflowing with fish, strange cheesy-looking squares of cooked dough and various sauces. The whole dinner was set to Congolese music videos with a big woman signing and strutting to New York backdrop (blue screen no doubt). The fish is very common and considered a delicacy. It's an ocean fish called Thompson, and since the DRC has no oceans (don't be embarrassed to take a look at a map), they receive it frozen from Namibia and sometimes Angola. The cheesy dough with the consistency of rubber was in fact a kind of bread made from Manioc flour. It tastes slightly sour and is said to give constipation in no time flat. Considering my chronic "intestinal issue from Senegal", I made sure to load up on that (see previous "BRAT" diet posts). It is called Chiwangue (or in Lingala, Kwanga).
**Maluku**
The first Sunday there, we organized a trip to see the little town of Muluku right on the border of the country, separated by Congo-Brazzaville by a river where people fish and transport logs by letting them float along the current. As we paused by the side of the road, a police man, with loaded gun, comes up to us and points to my friend's camera. Apparently, it's illegal to take pictures in the Congo. My friend adamantly swore that she was just looking at some old pictures of previous trips to London and we managed to leave without paying the ubiquitous bribe.
Our lunch in Maluku was lovely. We sat on rickety chairs, under a thatched roof covered with plastic. The river was quiet and calm, reflecting the hills of the Congo-Brazzaville and the few pirogues that navigated it. Six pirogues were lying in wait of their owners by the side of the river. It was so picturesque, the water filling a holed pirogue reflecting the green, the clouds and the people. I tell you, it was almost begging me to take a picture.
It was a test of will not to whip out my trusty camera.
We ate fish that was still witching just moments before, wrapped in bundles of manioc leaves and left to simmer on a coal barbecue made from old petroleum kegs. Finally, after hours of having itchy fingers, I just cracked. I went for a walk by myself hoping to catch a clandestine shot of the area. Very quickly, friends joined me on my log to stare at the water. I snapped a quick picture on the scenery. I didn’t have much time to center or crop because there were soldiers around so I hope you'll excuse the results.
**Security Briefing**
The first day at work consisted mainly of a long, extended security briefing.
Amongst the things one needs to watch out for:
-Picking up soldiers in your car (even if they insist and are armed)
-Walking. Anywhere.
-Having too much money in your pocket yet having enough to "get yourself out of a sticky siuation"
-Taking public transportation or taxis
-Letting malaria-filled mosquitoes bite me
Things I have to do:
-Store enough dry food and water to last a week should unforeseen events keep you indoor (read: political upheavals)
-Notify the security guy if I intend to take a trip to the supermarket. To the store. To your house. To the gym. To the toilet.
-Lock my door behind me as well as the large steel grate in front of it (and, if the need arises, slide the heavy metal wall outside my apartment to cut off access of stairs to outsiders)
Oy! Some much for my love of independence... Hey, at least I get to walk to work.
Scene: Office in DRC
Person 1: We have not seen Employee in 3.42 seconds, alert authorities, alert authorities!
Person 2: Activate security procedures B12 NOW, we have a floater, I repeat, WE HAVE A FLOATER!
Cue: Alarm bells and red strobe lights sweep the entire office, a panicked crowd starts to gather close to the exits.
A sound of a flush is heard and employee X open the door to the women's toilet, looking a little perplexed and embarrassed.
Employee X: Sorry folks, I apologize for not alerting the chief of security that I was taking a dump.
March 22, 2005
Green!
**Arriving**
Much to your surprise I'm sure, I have arrived safe and sound in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Except that I screwed up my plane ticket dates and actually arrived a day later than I was supposed to (I am already hearing mom snickering and saying "that's such a You thing to do").
**The Dreaded Airport**
Needless to say, I have already come down with a rather dire case of Culture Shock. My first contact with the DRC was the hectic mob they call the airport. A colleague of mine (you know who you are) had warned me about the N'Djili airport. To put it mildly, the trip from the plane to the gate to the luggage check is rather uneasy. The airport has a reputation of being rather disorganized, with difficult officials, people trying to "help" you with your bags and bribes needing to be paid. I was frazzled, tired and rather dehydrated but, apart from someone "helping" me to pull my bags (which consisted of edging himself between the bag and sharp corners to wedge my bag more deeply and then jimmying my bag out of the created situation--needless to say, I didn't pay him), I got out of it intact.
**Green**
The first impression of the DRC is that it's very green! That may sound like a triviality to a lot of you but I've been hanging out with sand and goats for the better part of my 6 months in Senegal. There are rows and rows of trees, hills and green mountains, heck there's even grass here.
**Money**
I was instantly greeted by one of my colleagues who stayed in the office until 9:30PM to welcome me. Now, I consider myself a nice girl, but even I wouldn't have done that! The following day was a Saturday and I was taken out shopping for essentials.
The weirdest thing was that all the items were priced with stickers: B24, A10, C17 etc. Puzzled, I ask around for what the actually prices are. It turns out that the Congolese franc is so devaluated and devolving that, if prices were set, a bottle of ketchup priced at $5 would only be worth $2.50 a month later. The way they get around that is that they set sticker prices and you have to match up the number (B35) with a list that translates the price. That way, when the franc drops, they don't have to change ALL the stickers on ALL the items. They just readjust the list, print it out and redistribute it. Pretty ingenious, especially when you consider that those 15 bills bursting out of your wallet actually represent 2 dollars.
Another strange particularity here is that small purchases are made with Congolese francs and large purchases (read: "more than 2 dollars") are made in US dollars. So, here I am paying at the stores for groceries that cost 8,000 francs (translate to US $16) and I give a $20 bill (so theoretically the cashier should give me $4 back) and I receive $2 and F1,000 (which makes sense since F1,000 is about US $2). D’oh. I smile at the cashier and hope to hell that she gives me the correct change back. Cause my little brain is not strong enough to process the information.
**more to come soon**
Much to your surprise I'm sure, I have arrived safe and sound in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Except that I screwed up my plane ticket dates and actually arrived a day later than I was supposed to (I am already hearing mom snickering and saying "that's such a You thing to do").
**The Dreaded Airport**
Needless to say, I have already come down with a rather dire case of Culture Shock. My first contact with the DRC was the hectic mob they call the airport. A colleague of mine (you know who you are) had warned me about the N'Djili airport. To put it mildly, the trip from the plane to the gate to the luggage check is rather uneasy. The airport has a reputation of being rather disorganized, with difficult officials, people trying to "help" you with your bags and bribes needing to be paid. I was frazzled, tired and rather dehydrated but, apart from someone "helping" me to pull my bags (which consisted of edging himself between the bag and sharp corners to wedge my bag more deeply and then jimmying my bag out of the created situation--needless to say, I didn't pay him), I got out of it intact.
**Green**
The first impression of the DRC is that it's very green! That may sound like a triviality to a lot of you but I've been hanging out with sand and goats for the better part of my 6 months in Senegal. There are rows and rows of trees, hills and green mountains, heck there's even grass here.
**Money**
I was instantly greeted by one of my colleagues who stayed in the office until 9:30PM to welcome me. Now, I consider myself a nice girl, but even I wouldn't have done that! The following day was a Saturday and I was taken out shopping for essentials.
The weirdest thing was that all the items were priced with stickers: B24, A10, C17 etc. Puzzled, I ask around for what the actually prices are. It turns out that the Congolese franc is so devaluated and devolving that, if prices were set, a bottle of ketchup priced at $5 would only be worth $2.50 a month later. The way they get around that is that they set sticker prices and you have to match up the number (B35) with a list that translates the price. That way, when the franc drops, they don't have to change ALL the stickers on ALL the items. They just readjust the list, print it out and redistribute it. Pretty ingenious, especially when you consider that those 15 bills bursting out of your wallet actually represent 2 dollars.
Another strange particularity here is that small purchases are made with Congolese francs and large purchases (read: "more than 2 dollars") are made in US dollars. So, here I am paying at the stores for groceries that cost 8,000 francs (translate to US $16) and I give a $20 bill (so theoretically the cashier should give me $4 back) and I receive $2 and F1,000 (which makes sense since F1,000 is about US $2). D’oh. I smile at the cashier and hope to hell that she gives me the correct change back. Cause my little brain is not strong enough to process the information.
**more to come soon**
Safe and Sound
I arrived in the Congo on Friday safe and sound...The internet is a little bit slow in running (apparently a series of strong winds and rains have upset to satellite's reception) but I will update and reply to all my email as soon as it's a little more reliable.
Hope you are all doing well!
Hope you are all doing well!
March 17, 2005
I'll be missing you...
The Touareg man with blue flowing dress and the white turban, wobbling on his bicycle trying to avoid the pills of sand to his left and the cars to his right.
Tiébou Dienn.
Tiébou Yab.
The wonderfully outrageously loudly colored Boubous that women wear.
The Salamalekoum, Malekoumsalam, Ca va?, Oui ca va bien et toi ca va?, ca va ca va et la famille ca va, ca va, et la matinee?, ca va ca va etc...
The bitter and sickeningly sweet Attaya in a shot glass.
The fried donuts made by women on the side of the street.
The daily 5:00am Muslim chanting.
The spontaneous little girls that come up to me to shake my hand.
The Baobabs.
The whole morning procession of popping one's head in everyone's office for the obligatory greetings.
Biskrems.
Laughing at the outrageous prices of the Taxi men.
The multitudes of cool restaurants.
The Lebanese vendors.
The intricate jewelry made with fish spine, coffee beans and hand-shaped copper.
The overloaded Ndiagan Diaye buses (pronounce "Diagon-ji") that look like they're about to tip on their sides.
The men washing their feet and their faces in the street before prayer.
The flocks of sheep, goats that give you an insolent look and take their sweet time while crossing the street.
The daily getting-together of all wheelchaired persons by the edge of the ocean in the evenings.
The glimpse of Gorée Island by the beach.
The hens and their chicks in the flower beds.
Being able to buy one pat of butter, two cigarettes and 4 lumps of sugar.
The loud, obnoxious, busy crowds in Sandaga market.
The crazy Mauritanian shops that sell anything and everything.
The loud Muslim chants blaring from the back seat of shoddy taxis.
Baba Maal, Salif Keita (even if he's Malian), Ba Cissoko (even if they are Guinean), Youssou N'dour (even if I didn't get to see him live).
Lepers waving the fingerless hands at me in the morning.
Young boys practicing their Koranic chants on the stairs of the Mosque.
The intricately symmetrical hair weaves on young girls heads.
The shabby little restaurant by the side of the office that serves wonderful food in 3 seconds flat but never seems in a hurry for us to pay the bill.
The wonderful friends I have made here.
Tiébou Dienn.
Tiébou Yab.
The wonderfully outrageously loudly colored Boubous that women wear.
The Salamalekoum, Malekoumsalam, Ca va?, Oui ca va bien et toi ca va?, ca va ca va et la famille ca va, ca va, et la matinee?, ca va ca va etc...
The bitter and sickeningly sweet Attaya in a shot glass.
The fried donuts made by women on the side of the street.
The daily 5:00am Muslim chanting.
The spontaneous little girls that come up to me to shake my hand.
The Baobabs.
The whole morning procession of popping one's head in everyone's office for the obligatory greetings.
Biskrems.
Laughing at the outrageous prices of the Taxi men.
The multitudes of cool restaurants.
The Lebanese vendors.
The intricate jewelry made with fish spine, coffee beans and hand-shaped copper.
The overloaded Ndiagan Diaye buses (pronounce "Diagon-ji") that look like they're about to tip on their sides.
The men washing their feet and their faces in the street before prayer.
The flocks of sheep, goats that give you an insolent look and take their sweet time while crossing the street.
The daily getting-together of all wheelchaired persons by the edge of the ocean in the evenings.
The glimpse of Gorée Island by the beach.
The hens and their chicks in the flower beds.
Being able to buy one pat of butter, two cigarettes and 4 lumps of sugar.
The loud, obnoxious, busy crowds in Sandaga market.
The crazy Mauritanian shops that sell anything and everything.
The loud Muslim chants blaring from the back seat of shoddy taxis.
Baba Maal, Salif Keita (even if he's Malian), Ba Cissoko (even if they are Guinean), Youssou N'dour (even if I didn't get to see him live).
Lepers waving the fingerless hands at me in the morning.
Young boys practicing their Koranic chants on the stairs of the Mosque.
The intricately symmetrical hair weaves on young girls heads.
The shabby little restaurant by the side of the office that serves wonderful food in 3 seconds flat but never seems in a hurry for us to pay the bill.
The wonderful friends I have made here.
March 14, 2005
3 Trips Worth mentioning
I'm trying to get as much mileage out of Senegal as I can. A summary of my debaucheries.
Ngor Island
******************
This is a small island of the coast of Dakar. One needs to hop on a dilapidated, slightly crowded pirogue to make the small trip across the water. I was never so happy to have a life-jacket, even it it did smell humid, musky and sweaty.
The day consisted of lying on the beach in our bikinis, walking around the island, oohing and aahing over the size of the huge mansions there, and fending off the unbearably persistent vendors (with sarcastic comments, annoyed sighs and I'm-looking-through-you-stares).
Fun fact #1: I'm still albino white--no offense to actual albinos.
Les Sables d'Or
****************
The Sable d'Or are about 2 hours South of Dakar on the Petite Cote. We stayed in a hotel right on the beach, ate zebu, drank too much, looked at incredibly bright stars, and took plenty of motorcycle rides (it was nice but am definitely going to try to buy one, I want to keep up with the Jones' and besides, it's not half as fun riding on the back of one than actually riding your own).
Fun fact #2: the weather is definitely heating up, but I manage to stay as white as a ghost.
Le Lac Rose
***************
Lac Retba, surnamed Lac Rose because it has an uncanny pink hue, is a place where salt is raked from the bottom, collected and sold on the local market.
The whole landscape looks like you've landed on an alien planet: it's eerily pink (minerals in the water), white (salt mounds), green (oddly shaped trees manage to grow in this extreme environment ) and beige (there are a lot of sand dunes).
Fun fact #3: Because of my snow white skin, I did finally manage to get a nasty sunburn on my shoulders and nose. And I was wearing a hat, slapping on spf cream, and obsessively staying in the shade (to the point where I would fold my arms against my body and skim walls in an effort to expose the least skin possible--this gave me an odd robotic and anally retentive gait). Today, I went from lobster red to porcelain color in three seconds flat...A very drab looking toilet bowl color, more exactly. D'oh.
Ngor Island
******************
This is a small island of the coast of Dakar. One needs to hop on a dilapidated, slightly crowded pirogue to make the small trip across the water. I was never so happy to have a life-jacket, even it it did smell humid, musky and sweaty.
The day consisted of lying on the beach in our bikinis, walking around the island, oohing and aahing over the size of the huge mansions there, and fending off the unbearably persistent vendors (with sarcastic comments, annoyed sighs and I'm-looking-through-you-stares).
Fun fact #1: I'm still albino white--no offense to actual albinos.
Les Sables d'Or
****************
The Sable d'Or are about 2 hours South of Dakar on the Petite Cote. We stayed in a hotel right on the beach, ate zebu, drank too much, looked at incredibly bright stars, and took plenty of motorcycle rides (it was nice but am definitely going to try to buy one, I want to keep up with the Jones' and besides, it's not half as fun riding on the back of one than actually riding your own).
Fun fact #2: the weather is definitely heating up, but I manage to stay as white as a ghost.
Le Lac Rose
***************
Lac Retba, surnamed Lac Rose because it has an uncanny pink hue, is a place where salt is raked from the bottom, collected and sold on the local market.
The whole landscape looks like you've landed on an alien planet: it's eerily pink (minerals in the water), white (salt mounds), green (oddly shaped trees manage to grow in this extreme environment ) and beige (there are a lot of sand dunes).
Fun fact #3: Because of my snow white skin, I did finally manage to get a nasty sunburn on my shoulders and nose. And I was wearing a hat, slapping on spf cream, and obsessively staying in the shade (to the point where I would fold my arms against my body and skim walls in an effort to expose the least skin possible--this gave me an odd robotic and anally retentive gait). Today, I went from lobster red to porcelain color in three seconds flat...A very drab looking toilet bowl color, more exactly. D'oh.
Poor birds stuck in a cage in our hotel. One of them would gnaw the metal bars and get its head stuck between parallel bars. The other would shriek in horror while the first one pushed against the bars with its legs to try to unwedge its head. They did this about 4 times an hour. Birds have no short term memory. Birds are funny.
March 11, 2005
She's not THAT cool assed
My friends mentionned that I hadn't been clear in my last post.
To clarify: My dentist is paying for ONE free tooth only, not the whole set of 6-9 teeth.
Come on folks, she's not that cool assed. I have faith in human generosity but let's not be ridiculous here :)
To clarify: My dentist is paying for ONE free tooth only, not the whole set of 6-9 teeth.
Come on folks, she's not that cool assed. I have faith in human generosity but let's not be ridiculous here :)
March 08, 2005
Cool Ass Dentist (not an oxymoron)
As I found out, being a cool ass dentist is not an oxymoron.
My dentist has been fixing a total of at least 6 to 8 teeth before I leave to the Congo. She is VERY thorough (at little too much?) and fills any tooth that might have the pretention of looking like it might --one day-- develop a cavity.
Today, she mentionned that the last molar on the left side of my mouth really ought to be filled too. I looked at her with a frightened look on my face (the lady is really a little too enthusiastic about working on my teeth) and told her that my insurance didn't cover dental works that cost more than $XXX. Which is completely true. She responded, "don't worry about it, it's on me".
How cool is that?
My dentist has been fixing a total of at least 6 to 8 teeth before I leave to the Congo. She is VERY thorough (at little too much?) and fills any tooth that might have the pretention of looking like it might --one day-- develop a cavity.
Today, she mentionned that the last molar on the left side of my mouth really ought to be filled too. I looked at her with a frightened look on my face (the lady is really a little too enthusiastic about working on my teeth) and told her that my insurance didn't cover dental works that cost more than $XXX. Which is completely true. She responded, "don't worry about it, it's on me".
How cool is that?
March 07, 2005
On Being Comfortable with One's Masculinity
It was a little bit of a shock when I first saw two young men holding hands in the street. They were talking animatedly and one of them put his arm around the other one's waist and grabbed his hand with the other. I shrugged it off and continued on my way. I have since seen many men holding hands in the street--it is said that people who are very close friends express their closeness in this way. Similarly, when someone that you know well shakes your hand, he/she will frequently take your elbow with his/her other hand to show the connection between you is strong.
It seems that men in the United States are so worried about appearances that they avoid any sort of contact with their male friends, lest their sexual orientation be put into question (oddly enough, it is OK to be physical when drunk or when having fun tackling your friend to the ground).
Are you confident with your masculinity?
It seems that men in the United States are so worried about appearances that they avoid any sort of contact with their male friends, lest their sexual orientation be put into question (oddly enough, it is OK to be physical when drunk or when having fun tackling your friend to the ground).
Are you confident with your masculinity?
March 04, 2005
Things Fall Apart
A mere two weeks --two weeks!-- before I have to leave to Congo, my phone started to spontaneously shut down, my camera won't shut its shutter and my laptop's mouse pad was unresponsive to my desperate attempts of directing the little pointer arrow (not to mention that it could only stand alone for 5 minutes before I had to plug it back in). Four light bulbs went out as soon as I flicked the switches on, I now live in near darkness.
Why oh why must Things Fall Apart just before I am about to leave?
Yesterday, a friend of mine saved all my documents on CDs, reinstalled windows XP with extra goodies like Page maker and partitioned my hard drive so that my programs would be on the C: drive and my documents on D: drive (this is a brilliant scheme to prevent viruses from infecting my documents). I was so grateful I ordered us loads and loads of food from this great restaurant (appetizers, main dish and dessert--the whole works).
I now have a clean computer with new battery (ordered from Amazon.com and sent through a friend at the US embassy), a new phone with a little plastic cover to protect it from the dust, and my camera actually worked fine all along (it turns out that the two sets of batteries that I used where no good--I don't recommend using locally manufactured batteries). My lights are still not working but I'm moving out soon.
Ah, I feel clean again (with the nagging doubt that I'm waaaaay too reliant on technology--who said going to Africa makes you less materialistic?).
Why oh why must Things Fall Apart just before I am about to leave?
Yesterday, a friend of mine saved all my documents on CDs, reinstalled windows XP with extra goodies like Page maker and partitioned my hard drive so that my programs would be on the C: drive and my documents on D: drive (this is a brilliant scheme to prevent viruses from infecting my documents). I was so grateful I ordered us loads and loads of food from this great restaurant (appetizers, main dish and dessert--the whole works).
I now have a clean computer with new battery (ordered from Amazon.com and sent through a friend at the US embassy), a new phone with a little plastic cover to protect it from the dust, and my camera actually worked fine all along (it turns out that the two sets of batteries that I used where no good--I don't recommend using locally manufactured batteries). My lights are still not working but I'm moving out soon.
Ah, I feel clean again (with the nagging doubt that I'm waaaaay too reliant on technology--who said going to Africa makes you less materialistic?).
March 03, 2005
Images of Senegal
Cartoons of Typical Scenes
http://www.designwrite.com/marc/personal/senegal.html
The Pressures of Having to get a Sheep for Religious Ceremonies
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/4175261.stm
Being a Toubab in Senegal
http://www.ithaca.edu/ithacan/articles/0403/04/accent/5american_fol.htm
http://www.designwrite.com/marc/personal/senegal.html
The Pressures of Having to get a Sheep for Religious Ceremonies
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/4175261.stm
Being a Toubab in Senegal
http://www.ithaca.edu/ithacan/articles/0403/04/accent/5american_fol.htm
March 02, 2005
Guinean Fabric
In a sort of panic, I went to Sandaga Market yesterday and started buying fabrics. I hear that the selection of fabric in Congo is not what it is in Senegal so I went from store to store getting some meters of this and that.
There are people who regularly walk around in the street with beautiful navy blue fabric and light blue tied-dyed patterns perched on their heads. I was always a little curious about that and asked a clerk in the store if she sold what those men were carrying. She answered (almost with a snarl) :"Madame, we don't sell fabric that's out in the street in here". I laughed, a trifle uncomfortably, at her snobbish answer.
I approached a man with the pieces of fabric on his head, not able to resist his warm smile. He sold me two of his prettiest pagnes (I'm sure I paid a lot more than the other customers but, oh well). He told me that they were traditional Guinean fabrics and that he himself was from Guinee. Ah, that would explain his huge smile (most Senegalese, although quite nice, do not spontaneously smile--unless they're trying to chat you up that is).
See Mrs. Store Clerk, no need to be such a snob about your fabric. Humpf!
There are people who regularly walk around in the street with beautiful navy blue fabric and light blue tied-dyed patterns perched on their heads. I was always a little curious about that and asked a clerk in the store if she sold what those men were carrying. She answered (almost with a snarl) :"Madame, we don't sell fabric that's out in the street in here". I laughed, a trifle uncomfortably, at her snobbish answer.
I approached a man with the pieces of fabric on his head, not able to resist his warm smile. He sold me two of his prettiest pagnes (I'm sure I paid a lot more than the other customers but, oh well). He told me that they were traditional Guinean fabrics and that he himself was from Guinee. Ah, that would explain his huge smile (most Senegalese, although quite nice, do not spontaneously smile--unless they're trying to chat you up that is).
See Mrs. Store Clerk, no need to be such a snob about your fabric. Humpf!
Good-Bye Senegal, Hello Congo!
So, as it turns out, I'm leaving Senegal forever to work in the Democratic Republic of Congo for a period of two to four years. The implications of that are both terribly frightening and terribly exciting.
Things I need to do before I leave:
1. Get cavities filled (for some reason, when my dentist heard that I was leaving, she suddenly found six teeth to fix before I leave!)
2. Get plane ticket (I am leaving in 2 weeks and still don't have my plane ticket--insanity)
3. Pack all the shit that I've accumulated and send it through a moving company (who knew that six months would be enough to have a truckload of junk?)
4. Wrap-up a lot of work things
5. Go to all the cool places I haven't been to yet (scratch that, it's impossible)
6. Freak out a little about my next posting (this is an on-going activity)
Ugh. Anyone care to visit me there?
Things I need to do before I leave:
1. Get cavities filled (for some reason, when my dentist heard that I was leaving, she suddenly found six teeth to fix before I leave!)
2. Get plane ticket (I am leaving in 2 weeks and still don't have my plane ticket--insanity)
3. Pack all the shit that I've accumulated and send it through a moving company (who knew that six months would be enough to have a truckload of junk?)
4. Wrap-up a lot of work things
5. Go to all the cool places I haven't been to yet (scratch that, it's impossible)
6. Freak out a little about my next posting (this is an on-going activity)
Ugh. Anyone care to visit me there?
February 28, 2005
Tolerance
I was away for a week to work on a Strategic Plan workshop. It was generally interesting, mostly long and always tiring. Now, with the help of colleague, I have to pour through the dozens of graphs, tables and hand-written notes and put together some form of cohesive summary of the workshop.
The people who attended the workshop came from different organizations, ethnicities, religious convictions and centers of interests. The workshop started and ended with an Abbé saying/signing a catholic prayer in French, and the participants crossing themselves to seal off the deal. The prayer was followed by a Doyen saying a Muslim prayer in Arabic, followed by hands cupped to receive the blessing and then rubbed of the face and the scalp.
The lunch breaks were punctuated with description of secret ceremonies in the wood to "become a man", different beliefs in the South versus the middle of the country, the traditional foods that each region savors and frequent, good-natured self-deprecation of one's culture.
It's a pleasure to be different here. It's also refreshing to be able to ask questions (purely out of curiosity) without offending anyone.
The people who attended the workshop came from different organizations, ethnicities, religious convictions and centers of interests. The workshop started and ended with an Abbé saying/signing a catholic prayer in French, and the participants crossing themselves to seal off the deal. The prayer was followed by a Doyen saying a Muslim prayer in Arabic, followed by hands cupped to receive the blessing and then rubbed of the face and the scalp.
The lunch breaks were punctuated with description of secret ceremonies in the wood to "become a man", different beliefs in the South versus the middle of the country, the traditional foods that each region savors and frequent, good-natured self-deprecation of one's culture.
It's a pleasure to be different here. It's also refreshing to be able to ask questions (purely out of curiosity) without offending anyone.
February 25, 2005
Allowing myself a little luxury
Another one of my friends --thank you again-- got me a professional massage for my birthday. I would go into all sorts of details into what that entailed but all I can say is "Raaaaaaaaaaaaah" (equivalent to purring for humans).
February 17, 2005
Cool Birthdays Wishes
"I wish you a happy birthday! May the gods of chocolate blow in your favor on this day. "
"I hope you're doing something wild for the occasion"
"Twenty-seven seems like a good age – you are still young, and yet you are already doing lots of amazing things. "
"Since you're so old now, it's like a big sis-little sis friendship"
"Pleins de bisous sucrés, salés, fleuris, pimentés et surtout parfumés des parfums des grands baobabs sénégalais. "
"It's an honor to be your friend, and a privilege to know you. Come what may, I trust you'll have a wonderful and rich life ! So here it comes, HAPPY BIRTHDAY you old hag !!!"
"I didn't know you were born in Paris. Well I guess no one's perfect."
Awww shucks, thanks guys!
"I hope you're doing something wild for the occasion"
"Twenty-seven seems like a good age – you are still young, and yet you are already doing lots of amazing things. "
"Since you're so old now, it's like a big sis-little sis friendship"
"Pleins de bisous sucrés, salés, fleuris, pimentés et surtout parfumés des parfums des grands baobabs sénégalais. "
"It's an honor to be your friend, and a privilege to know you. Come what may, I trust you'll have a wonderful and rich life ! So here it comes, HAPPY BIRTHDAY you old hag !!!"
"I didn't know you were born in Paris. Well I guess no one's perfect."
Awww shucks, thanks guys!
I'd been eyeing this for a while now but my friends snatched it up and gave it to me for my birthday! It's created from dyed material made just outside of Fatick. The whole village is involved in creating bright-colored pillowcases, bedspreads, clothes using African prints but with an appeal to Toubabs . The company is a co-operative, sharing its profit equally amongst all villagers.
Another year older
Today is my Birthday! Yeah!
I'm actually not depressed about it for once. I have not yet seen a new wrinkle in the mirror. I did not spot a new white hair on my head. I did catch myself thinking about 403(B) retirement funds though.
The people I have met here 6 months ago have organized a dinner in my honor. How cool is that?
It's nice to know that, wherever you may be on this lonely planet, you'll always find good people.
I'm actually not depressed about it for once. I have not yet seen a new wrinkle in the mirror. I did not spot a new white hair on my head. I did catch myself thinking about 403(B) retirement funds though.
The people I have met here 6 months ago have organized a dinner in my honor. How cool is that?
It's nice to know that, wherever you may be on this lonely planet, you'll always find good people.
February 16, 2005
Powdered Milk?
My colleague just called me to let me know that she was ill yesterday and would not be coming in to work this morning. Could it be the powdered milk?
Unsolved mystery...
Unsolved mystery...
Powdered Milk
There are around 6 or 7 different brands of powered milk here. Which of course, is ridiculous. How much powdered milk do people really need?
One has a blue cow on its cover, another has a dancing milk glass and yet another has a smiling mother holding her blond child (brilliant audience marketing here people). Some come with chocolate, strawberry or coffee flavors. Some have added vitamin A or extra minerals.
I always turned my nose at powdered milk, preferring instead to buy the long conservation milk that France exports here (I have yet to find fresh milk). One day, at work, desperate to make myself a proper cup of tea, I ventured in the fridge and brought out the container of powdered milk. As I poured the flakes in my tea, I crinkled my nose and emitted a "I'm pretty disgusted but desperate" grunt.
The first experiment was an utter failure as I was gulping down equal amounts of tea and clumped up flakes. I've tried many a times since then and am now a convert of powdered milk. That soft, powdery, slighty off-white colored fluff is reminiscent of feathery clouds. And, I can confidently say that I have acquired the skill of dissolving the milk so that very little clumps are left (it's a combination of quick stirring and making sure that the water's very hot).
Powdered milk. It does a body good.
Question for those dieticians out there: does powdered milk still have the necessary calcium levels?
One has a blue cow on its cover, another has a dancing milk glass and yet another has a smiling mother holding her blond child (brilliant audience marketing here people). Some come with chocolate, strawberry or coffee flavors. Some have added vitamin A or extra minerals.
I always turned my nose at powdered milk, preferring instead to buy the long conservation milk that France exports here (I have yet to find fresh milk). One day, at work, desperate to make myself a proper cup of tea, I ventured in the fridge and brought out the container of powdered milk. As I poured the flakes in my tea, I crinkled my nose and emitted a "I'm pretty disgusted but desperate" grunt.
The first experiment was an utter failure as I was gulping down equal amounts of tea and clumped up flakes. I've tried many a times since then and am now a convert of powdered milk. That soft, powdery, slighty off-white colored fluff is reminiscent of feathery clouds. And, I can confidently say that I have acquired the skill of dissolving the milk so that very little clumps are left (it's a combination of quick stirring and making sure that the water's very hot).
Powdered milk. It does a body good.
Question for those dieticians out there: does powdered milk still have the necessary calcium levels?
February 14, 2005
The Sacred Baobab Tree
Griot are keepers of the oral tradition. They are singers who chant praises to Senegalese families in times of celebration. The trade is one passed on from father to father, from generation to generation since as long as people can remember.
A family generally has its very own griot, which they support financial, in exchange for a recounting of their great grandparents, grandparents and parents' family stories. The stories of course, are generally always positive, or if exposing a certain ancestor's failings, quite humorous and harmless. Though the trade is considered lowly, their role is essential because they are Senegal living historians. They are found in every ethnic group in Senegal except for the Diolas.
Griots have never worked the soil and, as a result, cannot be buried in the ground. It is said that if a griot should be ever buried in the land, a terrible drought will develop.
They are buried within Baobab trees. Baobab trees are considered useless trees, owing to the fact that their bark cannot be used to make furniture. The fruit it bears, the Pin de Singe, is used to make Bouie, a concoction that when mixed with hot water, is good for diarrhea. A baobab tree can also harbor honey in its highest branches. The tree is very common in Senegal and part of the reason is that it is not cut down for resources.
Feeling that they deserved a proper burial, griots have fought to be buried alongside their brothers in the soil. President Senghor passed a law allowing this, thereby outlawing any burials within Baobab trees. The same year the law was passed, there was a severe drought.
--As told by our guide in the Bandjia Nature Reserve, city of Toubab Dialaw
Check out our hotel
http://www.espacesobobade.com/
A family generally has its very own griot, which they support financial, in exchange for a recounting of their great grandparents, grandparents and parents' family stories. The stories of course, are generally always positive, or if exposing a certain ancestor's failings, quite humorous and harmless. Though the trade is considered lowly, their role is essential because they are Senegal living historians. They are found in every ethnic group in Senegal except for the Diolas.
Griots have never worked the soil and, as a result, cannot be buried in the ground. It is said that if a griot should be ever buried in the land, a terrible drought will develop.
They are buried within Baobab trees. Baobab trees are considered useless trees, owing to the fact that their bark cannot be used to make furniture. The fruit it bears, the Pin de Singe, is used to make Bouie, a concoction that when mixed with hot water, is good for diarrhea. A baobab tree can also harbor honey in its highest branches. The tree is very common in Senegal and part of the reason is that it is not cut down for resources.
Feeling that they deserved a proper burial, griots have fought to be buried alongside their brothers in the soil. President Senghor passed a law allowing this, thereby outlawing any burials within Baobab trees. The same year the law was passed, there was a severe drought.
--As told by our guide in the Bandjia Nature Reserve, city of Toubab Dialaw
Check out our hotel
http://www.espacesobobade.com/
February 11, 2005
Ridiculous
It's been quite a lot cooler lately. I have started to wear a thick scarf and a sweater to work.
It's 68 degrees Fahrenheit (20 degrees Celscius).
It's 68 degrees Fahrenheit (20 degrees Celscius).
Talibes
Talibes are young children who are sent by their parents to a marabout, to learn about the Koran and Islam. Part of the religious experience is understanding humility. A child is to go in the streets for a few hours to beg for money (between the hours of teaching), and come home in time for dinner to eat with all the other students.
While some religious schools are very reputable, a large majority of the children are "taught" by marabouts that have no interest in their education. Instead, the children become sources of revenue. They spend all day outside, begging for money, in dirty T-shirts and beat-up flip flops, chanting religious songs. They are not taught anything about Islam and severely reprimanded if they do not bring enough money home. They are left to fend for themselves and find their own food. Lately, people have smartened up to this and have been giving them bread and cookies instead of money.
Why do we accept this? Why are these children starving, dirty and uneducated?
While some religious schools are very reputable, a large majority of the children are "taught" by marabouts that have no interest in their education. Instead, the children become sources of revenue. They spend all day outside, begging for money, in dirty T-shirts and beat-up flip flops, chanting religious songs. They are not taught anything about Islam and severely reprimanded if they do not bring enough money home. They are left to fend for themselves and find their own food. Lately, people have smartened up to this and have been giving them bread and cookies instead of money.
Why do we accept this? Why are these children starving, dirty and uneducated?
Scamming 101
Scam 1
A young man comes to our office to tell us about his organisation (they help people who can't pay their medical bills, teach women how to read etc.). My supervisor politely bring him over to my office, on my second day here. I ask him more information and he promises to stay in touch.
Two weeks later, the young lad comes to my office again, very energized and enthusiastic. He tells me of all the progress that his organisation has made so far, he hands me a pamphlet. I express my interest in coming to see where they are located and how they work. He mentions that they are working on moving out of their little studio and trying to find a new place, but assures me that I can come check them out as soon as they are done moving. He promises to stay in touch.
Two months later, the receptionist rings me to let me know that the guy is waiting at the front. Annoyed that he (again) hasn't called to set a meeting and decided to just show up, I grunt, go to the reception, politely say hi and invite him to my office. This time, he is very well dressed, has a briefcase in his hand and tells me about all the meetings he's had in Saint Louis. He says "we'd like for you to be on our board". I skirm uncomfortably on my chair, saying that I barely know anything about him organisation. He pulls out a sign up sheet and tells me that he also is raising funds to help mothers pay for their children's antimalarial medication. Would I be willing to contribute? Again, I feel uncomfortable and squirm on my chair. I push the paper back and tell him I'd rather sign NEXT time, when he calls me and makes an appointment with the receptionist. "Ah, that's the trouble" he answers, "the petition is ending today". I sign, give him CFA F5,000 and never see him again.
Grrr.
***********************************
Scam 2
Three of us went to eat in a very pleasant restaurant that we know well. The bill comes up to CFA F 6,000 and we pay quickly. The waiter comes to collect our bill with a huge smile, thanks us and goes to the cash register. He comes back a little flustered and says "you're missing a 1,000". Embarrassingly, I try to figure out who's paid for what and reach for my wallet to add another bill.
Friend 1 firmly says "no, I'm sure that we paid the full amount. There was a 5,000 bill and a 1,000. Sir, you must be mistaken". He gets annoyed and insists that there was not enough money in the basket. Friend 1 "Please get Marie, your supervisor". The waiter is a little taken aback but nevertheless calls the supervisor. The supervisor talks with Friend 1 and acknowledges the fact that we come here often and are honest customers, "surely, I don't know what happened but the bill may have fallen somewhere along the way" she adds. "Yes, that's probably what happened" answers Friend 1. The distance from our table to the cash register is about 3 meters. Needless to say, we didn't leave a tip.
Grrr.
A young man comes to our office to tell us about his organisation (they help people who can't pay their medical bills, teach women how to read etc.). My supervisor politely bring him over to my office, on my second day here. I ask him more information and he promises to stay in touch.
Two weeks later, the young lad comes to my office again, very energized and enthusiastic. He tells me of all the progress that his organisation has made so far, he hands me a pamphlet. I express my interest in coming to see where they are located and how they work. He mentions that they are working on moving out of their little studio and trying to find a new place, but assures me that I can come check them out as soon as they are done moving. He promises to stay in touch.
Two months later, the receptionist rings me to let me know that the guy is waiting at the front. Annoyed that he (again) hasn't called to set a meeting and decided to just show up, I grunt, go to the reception, politely say hi and invite him to my office. This time, he is very well dressed, has a briefcase in his hand and tells me about all the meetings he's had in Saint Louis. He says "we'd like for you to be on our board". I skirm uncomfortably on my chair, saying that I barely know anything about him organisation. He pulls out a sign up sheet and tells me that he also is raising funds to help mothers pay for their children's antimalarial medication. Would I be willing to contribute? Again, I feel uncomfortable and squirm on my chair. I push the paper back and tell him I'd rather sign NEXT time, when he calls me and makes an appointment with the receptionist. "Ah, that's the trouble" he answers, "the petition is ending today". I sign, give him CFA F5,000 and never see him again.
Grrr.
***********************************
Scam 2
Three of us went to eat in a very pleasant restaurant that we know well. The bill comes up to CFA F 6,000 and we pay quickly. The waiter comes to collect our bill with a huge smile, thanks us and goes to the cash register. He comes back a little flustered and says "you're missing a 1,000". Embarrassingly, I try to figure out who's paid for what and reach for my wallet to add another bill.
Friend 1 firmly says "no, I'm sure that we paid the full amount. There was a 5,000 bill and a 1,000. Sir, you must be mistaken". He gets annoyed and insists that there was not enough money in the basket. Friend 1 "Please get Marie, your supervisor". The waiter is a little taken aback but nevertheless calls the supervisor. The supervisor talks with Friend 1 and acknowledges the fact that we come here often and are honest customers, "surely, I don't know what happened but the bill may have fallen somewhere along the way" she adds. "Yes, that's probably what happened" answers Friend 1. The distance from our table to the cash register is about 3 meters. Needless to say, we didn't leave a tip.
Grrr.
February 10, 2005
Watching TV, Senegalese Style
I live really close to an appliance store with large bay windows. Occasionally, I would walk up to my building and see a group of people congregated around the bay window of the store.
I finally figured something was amiss when I saw two young men, on plastic chairs, checking out the TV in the store. They had a cheaply manufactured remote control from the market and had managed to turn on the store TV from the outside. The sound was very little low (owing to the thickness of the window) but they generally seemed to have a grand old time.
Yesterday was an important soccer game in Senegal. I don't follow sports but I assume that was the case: at least 50 people were gathered around the window, crowding to get closer, with small battery operated radio close to their ear, trying to follow the game on TV and on the radio. Cafe sellers momentarily set their rolling carts to the side and even the coconut sellers left their coconut wheel barrows unattended. I managed to see a player just miss the goal by standing on my tippy-toes.
I swear, next time, I'm going to rush back home, get my dining room chair and join in the fun.
I miss television.
I finally figured something was amiss when I saw two young men, on plastic chairs, checking out the TV in the store. They had a cheaply manufactured remote control from the market and had managed to turn on the store TV from the outside. The sound was very little low (owing to the thickness of the window) but they generally seemed to have a grand old time.
Yesterday was an important soccer game in Senegal. I don't follow sports but I assume that was the case: at least 50 people were gathered around the window, crowding to get closer, with small battery operated radio close to their ear, trying to follow the game on TV and on the radio. Cafe sellers momentarily set their rolling carts to the side and even the coconut sellers left their coconut wheel barrows unattended. I managed to see a player just miss the goal by standing on my tippy-toes.
I swear, next time, I'm going to rush back home, get my dining room chair and join in the fun.
I miss television.
February 07, 2005
Tea Making 101
**********************************
"Anyone who has visited Western African will associate Gunpowder Tea with mid-day breaks and after-dinner visits. Gunpowder Tea is Chinese green tea named for the way the tea leaves are rolled into small pellets, which look like old-fashioned gunpowder. [...] In and around Senegal, tea is prepared and presented in an elaborate process known by the Wolof word, attaya or ataaya."
"Do you know why we always drink three cups of tea?" Peter asked.
"And do you know why the first cup is always the sweetest?"
I slurped my tea. "No, why?"
"The first cup is the love of your mother. The second is the love of your friends. The third is the love of your love."
I laughed.
"It's true," he said. "Ask anybody."
(The Misfortune in Men's Eyes)
from http://www.congocookbook.com/c0057.html
********************
Attaya is the way tea is served in Senegal. It’s typically served in three rounds: each being of a different flavors and strength. The art of making this tea is quite elaborate and requires an old fashioned stove with coal in the bottom and tiny vodka-shot like glasses.
Round one: Strong and bitter tea
1. Fill your little tea kettle with 2/3 of the content of a chinese tea bag.
2. Add a little bit of sugar.
3. Heat on stove until boiling.
4. Pour in small glass cups. Pour the liquid back and forth until a thick foam settles on the surface of the glass.
5. Drink the bitter, bitter mixture without making a sour kissy face.
Round two: Sweeter with mint
1. Leaving the previous contents inside, add a little bit more tea from the bag.
2. Add sugar and mint.
3. Heat on stove until boiling.
4. Pour in small glass cups. Pour the liquid back and forth until a thick foam settles on the surface of the glass.
5. Enjoy and hope that you don't develop a caffeine addiction.
Round Three: Sweetest and Mintiest
1. Leaving the previous contents inside, finish the tea bag.
2. Add generous amounts of sugar and mint.
3. Heat on stove until boiling.
4. Pour in small glass cups. Pour the liquid back and forth until a thick foam settles on the surface of the glass.
5. Relax as this last tea will go down pretty well, but will undoubtedly cause deep cavities and prevent you from sleeping for two days.
*******************
I was taught this tea making technique when I was in the Sine Saloum. Now I don't know a lot of Wolof, but during lunch, one of our guides passed the hot sauce to his friend and said "Fi, Piment Toubab, way", which means "hey man, here's white person hot sauce". I'm pretty sure they were commenting on the strength of the sauce: Hell hot, mild and white-person weak.
D'oh.
"Anyone who has visited Western African will associate Gunpowder Tea with mid-day breaks and after-dinner visits. Gunpowder Tea is Chinese green tea named for the way the tea leaves are rolled into small pellets, which look like old-fashioned gunpowder. [...] In and around Senegal, tea is prepared and presented in an elaborate process known by the Wolof word, attaya or ataaya."
"Do you know why we always drink three cups of tea?" Peter asked.
"And do you know why the first cup is always the sweetest?"
I slurped my tea. "No, why?"
"The first cup is the love of your mother. The second is the love of your friends. The third is the love of your love."
I laughed.
"It's true," he said. "Ask anybody."
(The Misfortune in Men's Eyes)
from http://www.congocookbook.com/c0057.html
********************
Attaya is the way tea is served in Senegal. It’s typically served in three rounds: each being of a different flavors and strength. The art of making this tea is quite elaborate and requires an old fashioned stove with coal in the bottom and tiny vodka-shot like glasses.
Round one: Strong and bitter tea
1. Fill your little tea kettle with 2/3 of the content of a chinese tea bag.
2. Add a little bit of sugar.
3. Heat on stove until boiling.
4. Pour in small glass cups. Pour the liquid back and forth until a thick foam settles on the surface of the glass.
5. Drink the bitter, bitter mixture without making a sour kissy face.
Round two: Sweeter with mint
1. Leaving the previous contents inside, add a little bit more tea from the bag.
2. Add sugar and mint.
3. Heat on stove until boiling.
4. Pour in small glass cups. Pour the liquid back and forth until a thick foam settles on the surface of the glass.
5. Enjoy and hope that you don't develop a caffeine addiction.
Round Three: Sweetest and Mintiest
1. Leaving the previous contents inside, finish the tea bag.
2. Add generous amounts of sugar and mint.
3. Heat on stove until boiling.
4. Pour in small glass cups. Pour the liquid back and forth until a thick foam settles on the surface of the glass.
5. Relax as this last tea will go down pretty well, but will undoubtedly cause deep cavities and prevent you from sleeping for two days.
*******************
I was taught this tea making technique when I was in the Sine Saloum. Now I don't know a lot of Wolof, but during lunch, one of our guides passed the hot sauce to his friend and said "Fi, Piment Toubab, way", which means "hey man, here's white person hot sauce". I'm pretty sure they were commenting on the strength of the sauce: Hell hot, mild and white-person weak.
D'oh.
February 04, 2005
Hey guys, it's on me
Yesterday we went to our usual restaurant. I invited a friend of mine to experience "Senegalese cuisine" in a "Senegalese setting". There were 5 of us and we ordered 5 meals, one bottle of water and 5 teas.
When it came time to pay, I exclamed (with a false modesty) "Don't worry guys, it's on me" (for the savy readers out there, this was not an act of selflessness but rather that I needed change for my rather heavy bill). Everyone fussed and grumbled (making the obligatory no-you-really-shouldn't comment).
I paid a grand total of...brace yourselves here....US $11.
Ah, if only your morning Starbucks Mocciatto Late with skim/soy synthetic milk and equal sugar could be that cheap. Hummmm, Mocciattos.
When it came time to pay, I exclamed (with a false modesty) "Don't worry guys, it's on me" (for the savy readers out there, this was not an act of selflessness but rather that I needed change for my rather heavy bill). Everyone fussed and grumbled (making the obligatory no-you-really-shouldn't comment).
I paid a grand total of...brace yourselves here....US $11.
Ah, if only your morning Starbucks Mocciatto Late with skim/soy synthetic milk and equal sugar could be that cheap. Hummmm, Mocciattos.
February 03, 2005
All Things French
Seems like our French President, Jacques Chirac, is doing an extensive tour of Africa. He was in Madagascar a few weeks ago and now is touring Senegal.
When I came out of the office, people were running in the streets, kids were shrieking, little girls were carrying posters of the French president (he does not look any better on a big poster than on television) and sprinting to keep up with the long cortege of cars.
In my 6 months here, I have never seen a french flag. Now I saw dozens. It's funny because, while people talk of the injustices that they have suffered at the hands of the french (and let's not forget that I get called "Colon!" and "Racist!" when I don't buy what's being offered to me on every street), there is still this lingering nostalgia of all things french. I have often heard the old men start their conversations with "In the good old days of colonization..." with genuine fondness.
Strange.
When I came out of the office, people were running in the streets, kids were shrieking, little girls were carrying posters of the French president (he does not look any better on a big poster than on television) and sprinting to keep up with the long cortege of cars.
In my 6 months here, I have never seen a french flag. Now I saw dozens. It's funny because, while people talk of the injustices that they have suffered at the hands of the french (and let's not forget that I get called "Colon!" and "Racist!" when I don't buy what's being offered to me on every street), there is still this lingering nostalgia of all things french. I have often heard the old men start their conversations with "In the good old days of colonization..." with genuine fondness.
Strange.
February 02, 2005
Today is Good Day
"Today is a Good Day".
My sister and brother will probably remember the phrase. It comes from one of those Sci-Fi anthologies that we use to read when we were kids (Ahem *clears throat* and when we were adults, let's admit to that too). It's about a little boy who had powers and can kill people if things don't go his way. So the poor villagers tip-toe around him, pretending everything is always fine and always say "today is Good day".
OK OK so it's freaky, but today really IS a Good day. I'm in a good mood and for some reason everything is delightful.
I went out to eat at the usual restaurant and our waitress had nice weaves in her hair and put on eyeliner and lipstick. She actually smiled at us and was quite fast with giving us change, for once.
On the way back I saw three little Senegalese girls with white frilly dresses running down the street. So incredibly cute.
It's already 3:30PM and I didn't even see the time fly.
Today is a Good day.
My sister and brother will probably remember the phrase. It comes from one of those Sci-Fi anthologies that we use to read when we were kids (Ahem *clears throat* and when we were adults, let's admit to that too). It's about a little boy who had powers and can kill people if things don't go his way. So the poor villagers tip-toe around him, pretending everything is always fine and always say "today is Good day".
OK OK so it's freaky, but today really IS a Good day. I'm in a good mood and for some reason everything is delightful.
I went out to eat at the usual restaurant and our waitress had nice weaves in her hair and put on eyeliner and lipstick. She actually smiled at us and was quite fast with giving us change, for once.
On the way back I saw three little Senegalese girls with white frilly dresses running down the street. So incredibly cute.
It's already 3:30PM and I didn't even see the time fly.
Today is a Good day.
January 31, 2005
OK guys, here's the scoop
Removed.
The account of the evening was meant for friends and family (OK so admittedly, I was stupid to post it up :)
The message was slightly humourous and ironic, which perhaps, was a way to cope with such a situation--which can be a little bit traumatic. Who would be enchanted about spending the evening with armed robbers with a penchant for tying up the guards?
Although the tone was light, the situation and the aftermath was not.
The account of the evening was meant for friends and family (OK so admittedly, I was stupid to post it up :)
The message was slightly humourous and ironic, which perhaps, was a way to cope with such a situation--which can be a little bit traumatic. Who would be enchanted about spending the evening with armed robbers with a penchant for tying up the guards?
Although the tone was light, the situation and the aftermath was not.
January 27, 2005
Snippets of Wisdom from My Brother
Hi Dorothy,
Good job! It's great to have opportunities to change positions within a company. I must be perfectly honest with you, the prospect of work at the DRC really scares me. But let's take a look at the pro's and con's.
PRO:
1.- Interesting work.
2.- Different area, which gives you an opportunity to travel.
3.- Better pay, more vacation time.
4.- Different project.
CON:
1.- No infrastructure whatsoever. No access to phone or internet.
2.- The very real possibility of getting killed.
3.- Not staying with the same office for a long period of time.
4.- No possibility of moving around alone.
The big one, I think, is CON number 2.
Good job! It's great to have opportunities to change positions within a company. I must be perfectly honest with you, the prospect of work at the DRC really scares me. But let's take a look at the pro's and con's.
PRO:
1.- Interesting work.
2.- Different area, which gives you an opportunity to travel.
3.- Better pay, more vacation time.
4.- Different project.
CON:
1.- No infrastructure whatsoever. No access to phone or internet.
2.- The very real possibility of getting killed.
3.- Not staying with the same office for a long period of time.
4.- No possibility of moving around alone.
The big one, I think, is CON number 2.
Disconnected thoughts
--Knife sellers--
Like the alternating fruit and vegetable seasons, the street sellers have seasons too. Trees, perfumes, fire crackers can all be bought at different times and usually one item will dominate the market for a few weeks and then fade into oblivion. This week, it’s knife season (due to Tabaski probably). 18-year old kids walk around with cases of long knifes-about the size of one’s forearms-and machetes from the Rambo movies. I walk around them nervously and politely decline their invitation to buy their wares, acutely aware that they could just wield the knives in my direction and I would feel very much “obliged” to pay for them.
--Computer Programs--
I have been spending waaay too many hours working on a publication for my office using a 30-day trial version of In Design. It’s a strong formatting program that can create professional looking publications but takes a while to get the hang of. I spent the whole day playing with the following features: resetting the margins, changing the words around to look nicer, adding white spaces to the cells of each table. I swear I am not joking: the whole day.
After hours of staring at the dumb computer screen, I learned that the monitor should be orientated downwards not upwards, explaining the rather severe neck strain I’ve been feeling lately.
--Tabaski--
Tabaski is some sort of religious event where you get to buy a male sheep (looks just like a goat) and kill it yourself. I still haven’t quite figured it out but I’m told that it involves a ceremony to imitate the sacrifice of Abraham in front of God. For us non-Muslims (and Muslims alike I imagine) it means that the downtown streets are bare and the streets leading back to the suburbs are jammed packed. And of course, you can buy a sheep pretty much anywhere this time of year if you wanted one. A colleague of mine, who usually takes 1 hour to get into the office, was stuck in traffic for 4 hours.
I walk the streets at night, and all that is left are the poorest of the poor beggars. The ones that have had polio when they were children and drag themselves by their hands (they weave their fingers in plastic flip-flops to protect their palms). Their mangled, dwarfed legs trailing behind. Not even a wheelchair to call their own. Even the old men with leprosy have gone home the day before Tabaski.
--Appliances--
After 6 months of having a really shitty fridge and requesting a new one every single day (When can I have a new fridge? Have you given some thought about my fridge? Say have I mentioned that my fridge doesn't work? I have a suggestion: let's get me a new fridge!), I now have two. Which makes it considerably harder to move around in my kitchen. My water bottles are still half frozen from the old fridge. As I pour the remaining non-frozen water I wonder why half the water is hard as a rock and the other is still liquid WITHIN the same bottle. I wonder if perhaps the liquid portion is made up of non-filtered water or perhaps water with more particulate matter in it—explaining why it hasn’t frozen with the rest of the water. Can this explain the “stomach troubles” I’ve been having all along? My brain shuts down, I shrug it off and avidly gulp the whole glass down.
--Democratic Republic of Congo--
The fellow in the Congo has come down with a case of Malaria.
I applied to a job in Congo-Kinshassa (see irony of the situation with above statement). Now my company is considering whether I should go in Congo or stay in Senegal. I’m confused and torn and will just ride the wave until someone, or something, decides for me.
I’m off ladies and gents, I can hear the Bbaaa of the goats in the parking lot behind my house.
Like the alternating fruit and vegetable seasons, the street sellers have seasons too. Trees, perfumes, fire crackers can all be bought at different times and usually one item will dominate the market for a few weeks and then fade into oblivion. This week, it’s knife season (due to Tabaski probably). 18-year old kids walk around with cases of long knifes-about the size of one’s forearms-and machetes from the Rambo movies. I walk around them nervously and politely decline their invitation to buy their wares, acutely aware that they could just wield the knives in my direction and I would feel very much “obliged” to pay for them.
--Computer Programs--
I have been spending waaay too many hours working on a publication for my office using a 30-day trial version of In Design. It’s a strong formatting program that can create professional looking publications but takes a while to get the hang of. I spent the whole day playing with the following features: resetting the margins, changing the words around to look nicer, adding white spaces to the cells of each table. I swear I am not joking: the whole day.
After hours of staring at the dumb computer screen, I learned that the monitor should be orientated downwards not upwards, explaining the rather severe neck strain I’ve been feeling lately.
--Tabaski--
Tabaski is some sort of religious event where you get to buy a male sheep (looks just like a goat) and kill it yourself. I still haven’t quite figured it out but I’m told that it involves a ceremony to imitate the sacrifice of Abraham in front of God. For us non-Muslims (and Muslims alike I imagine) it means that the downtown streets are bare and the streets leading back to the suburbs are jammed packed. And of course, you can buy a sheep pretty much anywhere this time of year if you wanted one. A colleague of mine, who usually takes 1 hour to get into the office, was stuck in traffic for 4 hours.
I walk the streets at night, and all that is left are the poorest of the poor beggars. The ones that have had polio when they were children and drag themselves by their hands (they weave their fingers in plastic flip-flops to protect their palms). Their mangled, dwarfed legs trailing behind. Not even a wheelchair to call their own. Even the old men with leprosy have gone home the day before Tabaski.
--Appliances--
After 6 months of having a really shitty fridge and requesting a new one every single day (When can I have a new fridge? Have you given some thought about my fridge? Say have I mentioned that my fridge doesn't work? I have a suggestion: let's get me a new fridge!), I now have two. Which makes it considerably harder to move around in my kitchen. My water bottles are still half frozen from the old fridge. As I pour the remaining non-frozen water I wonder why half the water is hard as a rock and the other is still liquid WITHIN the same bottle. I wonder if perhaps the liquid portion is made up of non-filtered water or perhaps water with more particulate matter in it—explaining why it hasn’t frozen with the rest of the water. Can this explain the “stomach troubles” I’ve been having all along? My brain shuts down, I shrug it off and avidly gulp the whole glass down.
--Democratic Republic of Congo--
The fellow in the Congo has come down with a case of Malaria.
I applied to a job in Congo-Kinshassa (see irony of the situation with above statement). Now my company is considering whether I should go in Congo or stay in Senegal. I’m confused and torn and will just ride the wave until someone, or something, decides for me.
I’m off ladies and gents, I can hear the Bbaaa of the goats in the parking lot behind my house.
January 25, 2005
James Bond got held up during a dinner at the French Ambassador's house
For those of you that don't speak french, tough :) A friend brought these further articles to my attention:
L'Express
James Bond : "Les investisseurs ne viendront pas à Madagascar"
Le discours officiel du gouvernement est remis en cause par cette affaire de cambriolage à Ambohipo. James Bond relève l’existence d’un système judiciaire et de sécurité "quelquefois" inégalitaires. Après l’émotion, l’heure est aux comptes. "Cet incident ne va pas refléter une bonne image du pays. Les investisseurs n’y viendront pas ". James Bond, directeur des opérations de la Banque mondiale à Madagascar dans l’océan Indien, a tiré les premières leçons sur le braquage de quelques diplomates, dont il faisait partie, au domicile du premier conseiller à l’ambassade de France. Hier, James Bond a saisi l’occasion pour donner sa vision de la situation qui prévaut à Madagascar. "Il faut que le système judiciaire et sécuritaire soit égalitaire, a-t-il martelé. L’existence d’un environ- nement de justice et de sécurité est importante pour tout un chacun, qu’il soit malgache, karana ou étranger, qu’il soit pauvre ou riche et quel que soit le niveau de vie ". Il précise pourtant que "Madagascar n’est pas encore un pays de banditisme et que l’on y rencontre très peu de violences". Le directeur des opérations de la Banque mondiale dans l’océan Indien a, par contre, pointé du doigt "l’existence de la corruption". Ce hold-up du samedi contrarie les efforts entrepris par le gouvernement en faveur de la bonne gouvernance et de la sécurité. Pour James Bond : "Le développement suppose une amélioration de l’environnement pour tout le monde. Il faut assurer un Etat de droit pour qu’il n’y a plus de place pour le banditisme et la corruption". Ce braquage constitue un grain de sable dans les rouages dans la machine gouvernementale. Il contrarie les efforts déclarés et le discours officiel. Le régime a fait de la bonne gouvernance et la sécurité, son cheval de bataille. Le président Marc Ravalomanana a toujours déclaré que ces deux questions étaient ses priorités. Le chef de l’Etat a annoncé "l’amélioration de l’environnement judiciaire pour une bonne image de Madagascar et afin d’attirer les investisseurs", lors de son intervention du 20 décembre à l’occasion de l’inauguration du palais de Justice réhabilité à Anosy. Pas plus tard que samedi, le chef de l’Etat a loué les efforts de la Police nationale pour la sécurité du pays. C’était, lors d’une sortie d’une promotion des policiers à Antsirabe. Un diplomate de la place a déclaré que la "répétition d’un tel événement malheureux pourrait affecter les relations diplomatiques entre Madagascar et la France". Une remarque qui corrobore la déclaration de James Bond selon laquelle " quatre bandits ne remettent pas en cause les bonnes relations entre la Banque mondiale et Madagascar ". Une position qui pourrait changer "en cas de répétitions ". L’ambassade de France dont l’un des membres de son personnel diplomatique a été concerné ne souhaite pas encore s’exprimer officiellement. Retombées politiques Le président Marc Ravalomanana et son homologue français Jacques Chirac pourraient évoquer le sujet lors de la remise du trophée Louise Michelle à Paris aujourd’hui. Coïncidence fâcheuse, le président Marc Ravalomanana l’a reçu au titre de l’année 2002 en récompense, entre autres, pour des actions du chef de l’Etat malgache pour la bonne gouvernance. Le général Ramakavelo, l’une des victimes du braquage, ne résiste pas à soupçonner "l’existence d’une manœuvre" dans cette affaire. Il se pose déjà la question quant aux retombées politiques d’un acte de banditisme d’une telle envergure. "Il ne faut pas oublier que le monde, en particulier les Etats-Unis, met la lutte contre le terrorisme dans ses priorités". Dans son intervention, James Bond a lancé un appel "à tout un chacun à travailler ensemble afin d’éradiquer ce fléau, à savoir l’insécurité". :Iloniaina A.
********
Madagascar Tribune
James Bond and Co, dépouillés
Stupeur et désagrément dans les chancelleries et les salons samedi soir dernier. Coups de fil par-ci par-là en passant par les messages SMS. Toute la classe dirigeante a été stupéfaite de l'audace des brigands. La raison est simple : la résidence d'un haut fonctionnaire français a été investi par des bandits. Les invités, dont le Directeur des opérations de la Banque mondiale dans l'Océan indien, James Bond et lui-même ont été dépouillés par des bandits qui ont agi à visage découvert. Les brigands ont par la suite pris la poudre d'escampette.
Décidément, l'insécurité s'installe dans tout le territoire national et en particulier dans la capitale. Depuis quelques mois, des bandits bien armés ont semé la terreur dans la ville. De plus en plus, les foyers fortunés et les villas de gens aisés de diverses nationalités sont leurs principales cibles. Dernier en date, la résidence du premier conseiller de l'ambassade de France, Philippe B. sise à Andohanimandroseza, samedi dernier vers 20 heures 30 minutes. Quatre bandits armés de Kalachnikov et de pistolets automatiques se sont introduits dans la villa de ce diplomate français au moment où il a reçu quelques invités de marque dont le directeur des opérations de la Banque Mondiale, James Bond, le général Ramakavelo Désiré, Patrick Rajaonary, Philippe Andriantsitohaina et quelques opérateurs en zone franche. Au total, ils étaient sept couples dont 4 étrangers et 3 nationaux, présents, au moment de l'attaque. Après avoir ligoté les agents de sécurité et les chauffeurs, les bandits ont débarqué inopinément et ont menacé avec leurs armes toutes les personnes présentes, y compris les deux enfants encore mineurs. Les assaillants qui ont agi à visage découvert, ont emporté avec eux les bijoux, les portables, l'argent ainsi que des objets de valeurs dont le montant total reste inconnu. Selon l'une des victimes qu'on a pu contacter hier après-midi, l'opération a duré près de 40 minutes environ, mais devant les bandits superbement équipés en armes, personne n'a rien fait. * Une personne arrêtée... Quelques minutes après la fuite des assaillants, le propriétaire des lieux a informé l'ambassadeur de France, Catherine Boivineau et celle-ci a appelé les hauts responsables de la sécurité à Madagascar. Du coup, le commandant en chef de la gendarmerie, le général Randrianasolo Augustin, le chef d'Etat-major général de l'armée, le général Raonenantsoamampianina et le secrétaire d'Etat chargé de la Sécurité publique Razakandrina Lucien, accompagnés de l'ambassadeur de France se sont rendus sur les lieux afin de constater de visu les dégâts. La chasse à l'homme a été lancé dès le samedi soir. D'après nos informations, une personne dont l'identité n'est pas encore dévoilée, a été appréhendée dès hier. On ne connaît pas si elle fait partie des assaillants ou non. En tout cas, cette personne pourrait avoir des informations capitales qui pourraient amener à l'arrestation des vrais auteurs de ces actes criminels. Des rumeurs ont circulé hier que ces criminels ne sont que " la bande des cinq " qui ont opéré en toute tranquilité dans la capitale depuis quelques semaines. La série de kidnappings dont les membres de la communauté " Karana " sont les principales cibles, sont les œuvres de cette bande organisée et bien équipée. Visiblement, les bandits sont bien informés avant d'opérer, tant sur la personne que sur les lieux. Comment ont-ils pu avoir des informations sur la tenue d'un tel dîner à titre privé ? En tout cas, les bandits ont bien choisi leurs cibles. Tout laisse à croire que la recrudescence des actes de banditisme de ces derniers temps ont des visées purement politiques. Quoi qu'il en soit, l'Etat malgache n'a pas accompli sa mission primordiale dont la protection des personnes et des biens. James Bond ( 007 )...ne dira pas le contraire. Et malgré les formations et les équipements offerts aux forces de l'ordre (Police nationale, Gendarmerie...) par les pays amis, dont la France, l'insécurité ne cesse d'envahir la cité et le monde rural. Depuis quelques semaines, la presse locale a déjà attiré l'attention des responsbles gouvernementaux sur la gravité de la situation, mais on nous taxe d'être manipulé par l'opposition.
********
L'Express à Madagascar
HOLD-UP À MANDROSEZA - DES DIPLOMATES AGRESSÉS
Les malfaiteurs ont attaqué la résidence du premier conseiller à l’ambassade de France.Quatre bandits ont attaqué samedi soir la résidence de Philippe Bottrie, premier conseiller à l’ambassade de France, à Andohanimandroseza. Des invités, dont James Bond, représentant de la Banque mondiale, ont été dépouillés. L’insécurité atteint les sommets. Une attaque à main armée a été perpétrée samedi dans la soirée, contre Philippe Bottrie, premier conseiller à l’ambassade de France, et ses invités dont James Bond, représentant résident de la Banque mondiale. Vers 20 heures trente, quatre bandits opérant à visage découvert, ont pointé leurs pistolets automatiques et kalachnikovs contre les invités qui prenaient l’apéritif sur la terrasse avant de passer à table. Parmi eux figurent, entre autres, James Bond, Directeur des opérations de la Banque mondiale à Madagascar, le nouveau consul général de France Bréjon, des fonctionnaires de l’ambassade, des personnalités du monde des affaires comme Philippe Andriantsitohaina ou le général en retraite Ramakavelo, ancien ministre des Forces armées sous l’Administration Albert Zafy.
A plat ventre
Aucun acte de violence n’a été rapporté. Selon une des victimes qui a requis l’anonymat, les bandits les ont obligés à se rendre au salon puis de s’allonger à plat ventre. Ils les ont dépouillés de tous les objets de valeur, argent, montres, bijoux ou portables et après une fouille en règle de la résidence du premier conseiller, ont pris le large avec la voiture d’un des invités. “Le calvaire a duré plus d’une heure”. Les grands responsables de la sécurité se sont rendus immédiatement sur les lieux. Le secrétaire d’Etat chargé de la Sécurité publique, Lucien Victor Razakanirina, les généraux Raonenantsoamampiaina, chef d’état-major général de l’armée et Augustin Randrianasolo, commandant en chef de la gendarmerie. Le premier ministre Jacques Sylla aurait pour sa part, téléphoné. L’évènement sonne comme une gifle. Pour la première fois dans l’histoire de Madagascar, des diplomates ont été victimes de l’insécurité qui vient de gagner des proportions jamais atteintes auparavant. La position humiliante infligée à une personnalité comme James Bond est un véritable défi lancé au pouvoir et un clair désaveu des discours officiels. Coïncidence fortuite ou non, le hold-up a été perpétré la journée même de la sortie de près de mille nouveaux policiers de l’Ecole nationale de police d’Antsirabe. Aucune réaction officielle n’a été enregistrée jusqu’à l’heure du bouclage du journal. Les responsables de la police renvoient à un “imminent” point de presse qui serait donné par le secrétaire d’Etat à la sécurité publique. Des informations font état d’une arrestation. D’autres informent que les malfrats ont abandonné la voiture volée devant l’Hôtel de police, Tsaralalàna.Visées politiques Des affaires jusqu’ici non élucidées refont surface. Diverses sources informent, que le même scénario s’est déjà déroulé à une centaine de mètres à vol d’oiseau de la résidence de Philippe Bottrie. Un opérateur en BTP, sa famille et leurs invités en ont fait les frais. Les victimes d’Andohanimandroseza ont vécu la réalité de l’insécurité à Madagascar, et sans doute, éprouvé la plus belle peur de leur vie. Après le récent kidnapping d’Ilyas Akbaraly, un important opérateur économique, le hold-up confirme que l’insécurité n’est pas un phénomène lointain, le grand banditisme se révèle comme un phénomène courant qui n’épargne plus personne. Des détails rapportés par divers témoignages laissent néanmoins perplexes. Les gardiens et les chauffeurs auraient tous été retrouvés ligotés. Même si le parc “est plutôt mal éclairé”, il serait difficile que, à quatre ou à cinq, des malfrats aient pu venir à bout de plus d’une dizaine de personnes avant de s’attaquer aux invités. Les responsables de la police refusent de se prononcer sur la question. L’éventualité d’un hold-up “commandité” pour des “visées politiques” n’est pas écartée par des observateurs. Les victimes ont remarqué que les malfrats ont montré beaucoup d’aisance et de familiarité avec les armes. “Des professionnels”. :Mamy Nohatrarivo
L'Express
James Bond : "Les investisseurs ne viendront pas à Madagascar"
Le discours officiel du gouvernement est remis en cause par cette affaire de cambriolage à Ambohipo. James Bond relève l’existence d’un système judiciaire et de sécurité "quelquefois" inégalitaires. Après l’émotion, l’heure est aux comptes. "Cet incident ne va pas refléter une bonne image du pays. Les investisseurs n’y viendront pas ". James Bond, directeur des opérations de la Banque mondiale à Madagascar dans l’océan Indien, a tiré les premières leçons sur le braquage de quelques diplomates, dont il faisait partie, au domicile du premier conseiller à l’ambassade de France. Hier, James Bond a saisi l’occasion pour donner sa vision de la situation qui prévaut à Madagascar. "Il faut que le système judiciaire et sécuritaire soit égalitaire, a-t-il martelé. L’existence d’un environ- nement de justice et de sécurité est importante pour tout un chacun, qu’il soit malgache, karana ou étranger, qu’il soit pauvre ou riche et quel que soit le niveau de vie ". Il précise pourtant que "Madagascar n’est pas encore un pays de banditisme et que l’on y rencontre très peu de violences". Le directeur des opérations de la Banque mondiale dans l’océan Indien a, par contre, pointé du doigt "l’existence de la corruption". Ce hold-up du samedi contrarie les efforts entrepris par le gouvernement en faveur de la bonne gouvernance et de la sécurité. Pour James Bond : "Le développement suppose une amélioration de l’environnement pour tout le monde. Il faut assurer un Etat de droit pour qu’il n’y a plus de place pour le banditisme et la corruption". Ce braquage constitue un grain de sable dans les rouages dans la machine gouvernementale. Il contrarie les efforts déclarés et le discours officiel. Le régime a fait de la bonne gouvernance et la sécurité, son cheval de bataille. Le président Marc Ravalomanana a toujours déclaré que ces deux questions étaient ses priorités. Le chef de l’Etat a annoncé "l’amélioration de l’environnement judiciaire pour une bonne image de Madagascar et afin d’attirer les investisseurs", lors de son intervention du 20 décembre à l’occasion de l’inauguration du palais de Justice réhabilité à Anosy. Pas plus tard que samedi, le chef de l’Etat a loué les efforts de la Police nationale pour la sécurité du pays. C’était, lors d’une sortie d’une promotion des policiers à Antsirabe. Un diplomate de la place a déclaré que la "répétition d’un tel événement malheureux pourrait affecter les relations diplomatiques entre Madagascar et la France". Une remarque qui corrobore la déclaration de James Bond selon laquelle " quatre bandits ne remettent pas en cause les bonnes relations entre la Banque mondiale et Madagascar ". Une position qui pourrait changer "en cas de répétitions ". L’ambassade de France dont l’un des membres de son personnel diplomatique a été concerné ne souhaite pas encore s’exprimer officiellement. Retombées politiques Le président Marc Ravalomanana et son homologue français Jacques Chirac pourraient évoquer le sujet lors de la remise du trophée Louise Michelle à Paris aujourd’hui. Coïncidence fâcheuse, le président Marc Ravalomanana l’a reçu au titre de l’année 2002 en récompense, entre autres, pour des actions du chef de l’Etat malgache pour la bonne gouvernance. Le général Ramakavelo, l’une des victimes du braquage, ne résiste pas à soupçonner "l’existence d’une manœuvre" dans cette affaire. Il se pose déjà la question quant aux retombées politiques d’un acte de banditisme d’une telle envergure. "Il ne faut pas oublier que le monde, en particulier les Etats-Unis, met la lutte contre le terrorisme dans ses priorités". Dans son intervention, James Bond a lancé un appel "à tout un chacun à travailler ensemble afin d’éradiquer ce fléau, à savoir l’insécurité". :Iloniaina A.
********
Madagascar Tribune
James Bond and Co, dépouillés
Stupeur et désagrément dans les chancelleries et les salons samedi soir dernier. Coups de fil par-ci par-là en passant par les messages SMS. Toute la classe dirigeante a été stupéfaite de l'audace des brigands. La raison est simple : la résidence d'un haut fonctionnaire français a été investi par des bandits. Les invités, dont le Directeur des opérations de la Banque mondiale dans l'Océan indien, James Bond et lui-même ont été dépouillés par des bandits qui ont agi à visage découvert. Les brigands ont par la suite pris la poudre d'escampette.
Décidément, l'insécurité s'installe dans tout le territoire national et en particulier dans la capitale. Depuis quelques mois, des bandits bien armés ont semé la terreur dans la ville. De plus en plus, les foyers fortunés et les villas de gens aisés de diverses nationalités sont leurs principales cibles. Dernier en date, la résidence du premier conseiller de l'ambassade de France, Philippe B. sise à Andohanimandroseza, samedi dernier vers 20 heures 30 minutes. Quatre bandits armés de Kalachnikov et de pistolets automatiques se sont introduits dans la villa de ce diplomate français au moment où il a reçu quelques invités de marque dont le directeur des opérations de la Banque Mondiale, James Bond, le général Ramakavelo Désiré, Patrick Rajaonary, Philippe Andriantsitohaina et quelques opérateurs en zone franche. Au total, ils étaient sept couples dont 4 étrangers et 3 nationaux, présents, au moment de l'attaque. Après avoir ligoté les agents de sécurité et les chauffeurs, les bandits ont débarqué inopinément et ont menacé avec leurs armes toutes les personnes présentes, y compris les deux enfants encore mineurs. Les assaillants qui ont agi à visage découvert, ont emporté avec eux les bijoux, les portables, l'argent ainsi que des objets de valeurs dont le montant total reste inconnu. Selon l'une des victimes qu'on a pu contacter hier après-midi, l'opération a duré près de 40 minutes environ, mais devant les bandits superbement équipés en armes, personne n'a rien fait. * Une personne arrêtée... Quelques minutes après la fuite des assaillants, le propriétaire des lieux a informé l'ambassadeur de France, Catherine Boivineau et celle-ci a appelé les hauts responsables de la sécurité à Madagascar. Du coup, le commandant en chef de la gendarmerie, le général Randrianasolo Augustin, le chef d'Etat-major général de l'armée, le général Raonenantsoamampianina et le secrétaire d'Etat chargé de la Sécurité publique Razakandrina Lucien, accompagnés de l'ambassadeur de France se sont rendus sur les lieux afin de constater de visu les dégâts. La chasse à l'homme a été lancé dès le samedi soir. D'après nos informations, une personne dont l'identité n'est pas encore dévoilée, a été appréhendée dès hier. On ne connaît pas si elle fait partie des assaillants ou non. En tout cas, cette personne pourrait avoir des informations capitales qui pourraient amener à l'arrestation des vrais auteurs de ces actes criminels. Des rumeurs ont circulé hier que ces criminels ne sont que " la bande des cinq " qui ont opéré en toute tranquilité dans la capitale depuis quelques semaines. La série de kidnappings dont les membres de la communauté " Karana " sont les principales cibles, sont les œuvres de cette bande organisée et bien équipée. Visiblement, les bandits sont bien informés avant d'opérer, tant sur la personne que sur les lieux. Comment ont-ils pu avoir des informations sur la tenue d'un tel dîner à titre privé ? En tout cas, les bandits ont bien choisi leurs cibles. Tout laisse à croire que la recrudescence des actes de banditisme de ces derniers temps ont des visées purement politiques. Quoi qu'il en soit, l'Etat malgache n'a pas accompli sa mission primordiale dont la protection des personnes et des biens. James Bond ( 007 )...ne dira pas le contraire. Et malgré les formations et les équipements offerts aux forces de l'ordre (Police nationale, Gendarmerie...) par les pays amis, dont la France, l'insécurité ne cesse d'envahir la cité et le monde rural. Depuis quelques semaines, la presse locale a déjà attiré l'attention des responsbles gouvernementaux sur la gravité de la situation, mais on nous taxe d'être manipulé par l'opposition.
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L'Express à Madagascar
HOLD-UP À MANDROSEZA - DES DIPLOMATES AGRESSÉS
Les malfaiteurs ont attaqué la résidence du premier conseiller à l’ambassade de France.Quatre bandits ont attaqué samedi soir la résidence de Philippe Bottrie, premier conseiller à l’ambassade de France, à Andohanimandroseza. Des invités, dont James Bond, représentant de la Banque mondiale, ont été dépouillés. L’insécurité atteint les sommets. Une attaque à main armée a été perpétrée samedi dans la soirée, contre Philippe Bottrie, premier conseiller à l’ambassade de France, et ses invités dont James Bond, représentant résident de la Banque mondiale. Vers 20 heures trente, quatre bandits opérant à visage découvert, ont pointé leurs pistolets automatiques et kalachnikovs contre les invités qui prenaient l’apéritif sur la terrasse avant de passer à table. Parmi eux figurent, entre autres, James Bond, Directeur des opérations de la Banque mondiale à Madagascar, le nouveau consul général de France Bréjon, des fonctionnaires de l’ambassade, des personnalités du monde des affaires comme Philippe Andriantsitohaina ou le général en retraite Ramakavelo, ancien ministre des Forces armées sous l’Administration Albert Zafy.
A plat ventre
Aucun acte de violence n’a été rapporté. Selon une des victimes qui a requis l’anonymat, les bandits les ont obligés à se rendre au salon puis de s’allonger à plat ventre. Ils les ont dépouillés de tous les objets de valeur, argent, montres, bijoux ou portables et après une fouille en règle de la résidence du premier conseiller, ont pris le large avec la voiture d’un des invités. “Le calvaire a duré plus d’une heure”. Les grands responsables de la sécurité se sont rendus immédiatement sur les lieux. Le secrétaire d’Etat chargé de la Sécurité publique, Lucien Victor Razakanirina, les généraux Raonenantsoamampiaina, chef d’état-major général de l’armée et Augustin Randrianasolo, commandant en chef de la gendarmerie. Le premier ministre Jacques Sylla aurait pour sa part, téléphoné. L’évènement sonne comme une gifle. Pour la première fois dans l’histoire de Madagascar, des diplomates ont été victimes de l’insécurité qui vient de gagner des proportions jamais atteintes auparavant. La position humiliante infligée à une personnalité comme James Bond est un véritable défi lancé au pouvoir et un clair désaveu des discours officiels. Coïncidence fortuite ou non, le hold-up a été perpétré la journée même de la sortie de près de mille nouveaux policiers de l’Ecole nationale de police d’Antsirabe. Aucune réaction officielle n’a été enregistrée jusqu’à l’heure du bouclage du journal. Les responsables de la police renvoient à un “imminent” point de presse qui serait donné par le secrétaire d’Etat à la sécurité publique. Des informations font état d’une arrestation. D’autres informent que les malfrats ont abandonné la voiture volée devant l’Hôtel de police, Tsaralalàna.Visées politiques Des affaires jusqu’ici non élucidées refont surface. Diverses sources informent, que le même scénario s’est déjà déroulé à une centaine de mètres à vol d’oiseau de la résidence de Philippe Bottrie. Un opérateur en BTP, sa famille et leurs invités en ont fait les frais. Les victimes d’Andohanimandroseza ont vécu la réalité de l’insécurité à Madagascar, et sans doute, éprouvé la plus belle peur de leur vie. Après le récent kidnapping d’Ilyas Akbaraly, un important opérateur économique, le hold-up confirme que l’insécurité n’est pas un phénomène lointain, le grand banditisme se révèle comme un phénomène courant qui n’épargne plus personne. Des détails rapportés par divers témoignages laissent néanmoins perplexes. Les gardiens et les chauffeurs auraient tous été retrouvés ligotés. Même si le parc “est plutôt mal éclairé”, il serait difficile que, à quatre ou à cinq, des malfrats aient pu venir à bout de plus d’une dizaine de personnes avant de s’attaquer aux invités. Les responsables de la police refusent de se prononcer sur la question. L’éventualité d’un hold-up “commandité” pour des “visées politiques” n’est pas écartée par des observateurs. Les victimes ont remarqué que les malfrats ont montré beaucoup d’aisance et de familiarité avec les armes. “Des professionnels”. :Mamy Nohatrarivo
January 24, 2005
This Just In--James Bond braqué au cours d'un dîner
AP 23.01.05 14:48 ANTANANARIVO (AP) -- James Bond, directeur du bureau régional pour l'Océan indien de la Banque mondiale, à Antananarivo, a été victime d'un braquage au cours d'un dîner au domicile du premier conseiller de l'ambassade de France, dans la soirée de samedi à dimanche. Selon le premier conseiller de l'ambassade, Philippe Botterie, un groupe d'hommes armés a fait irruption dans la salle où se déroulait le dîner, auquel participaient des responsables économiques, malgaches et étrangers. Sous la menace de leurs armes, mais sans violence, les malfaiteurs ont demandé aux convives de leur remettre bijoux, montres, argent ou cartes bancaires qu'ils avaient sur eux. Les braqueurs, après avoir sans succès tenté d'avoir accès au coffre du diplomate français, ont quitté les lieux en volant du 4X4 de luxe d'un des invités. Ils ont ensuite garé le véhicule devant le commissariat central de police, à Antananarivo, où il a été retrouvé et récupéré par son propriétaire dans la matinée de dimanche. James Bond, lui, n'a pas donné sa montre, selon un des participants au dîner. AP
January 14, 2005
Dust
Dust hangs in the air all day, creating a strange fog in the sky and obscuring the sun. The resulting phenombra gives Dakar a strange science fiction-like feel and the people walk around looking morose.
The dust that manages to creep into my house, my office, my bag settles on surfaces and coats them as if they hadn't been dusted in a thousand years.
"The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep."
The dust that manages to creep into my house, my office, my bag settles on surfaces and coats them as if they hadn't been dusted in a thousand years.
"The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep."
--the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (1919), TS Eliot
January 10, 2005
Madagascar
I went to Madagascar for ten days. The telecommunication system being what it is (it sometimes proves to be a challenge just to use the phones), I was not able to update my blog on a regular basis. As you can probably imagine, there’s a million and one things to say about the country, but I am inherently lazy and my memory is often shoddy. Solution? A cope-out! I am posting 15 of the least fuzzy pictures and attaching labels to them. Enjoy the photo account.
Anatananarivo
Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar, is a luscious expand of hills and valleys packed with houses, villas, shanty-stores and shacks. The Malasi are a people of mixed ancestry, with a history of Asian immigration and African influence. As a result, the majority of the surface area of the land has been converted into rice fields—even in the more populated capital.
Although heavily influenced by French architecture over the years, many Tana houses keep their distinct Asian influence with characteristic narrow walls leading to high, slopped roofs.
In some small village, disease that caused so much havoc in the middle ages in Europe is still existant. Here, a pictogram showing the plague’s mode of transmission from mice to fleas to humans and its characteristic symptoms is posted on a prominent wall.
Although heavily influenced by French architecture over the years, many Tana houses keep their distinct Asian influence with characteristic narrow walls leading to high, slopped roofs.
In some small village, disease that caused so much havoc in the middle ages in Europe is still existant. Here, a pictogram showing the plague’s mode of transmission from mice to fleas to humans and its characteristic symptoms is posted on a prominent wall.
Nose Be and Hell Ville
Nose Be is a little island just off the coast of North-West Madagascar. It is very much under-developed with most of the inhabitants living in one room shacks made with palm tree leaves and bark. The shacks are illuminated at night with a lone candle in the middle of the room which makes the walls glow cutting the darkness of the night. Of course, we stayed in a prime Italian resort, kept the light on all night, rented scubas and ate to our hearts content. Ah the hypocrisy of International Development work!
The main city of Nosy Be is called Hell Ville. No joke. I think that it was named after a French officer (keep your snarky comments to yourself, thank you very much). There are still remnants of French colonialism: old canons, gutted column buildings, large decrepit mansions and lots and lots of aggressive salespersons selling embroidered tablecloths and minutely carved model ships.
This little boy sold us some home-made granola bars.
Girls practice the traditional Nose Be face painting on each other.
One can also fill a one-gallon large plastic bottle with white or dark rhum distilled locally. I tasted about a finger’s worth of the stuff and felt drunk all day.
Throughout the country, the delectable main dish consists of Zebu (a humped animal much like a skinny-cow with a floppy fin), chicken and pork. A vegetarian’s dream.
Boats make the early trip from remote parts of the island to bring souvenirs to tourists or seafood to restaurants.
The main city of Nosy Be is called Hell Ville. No joke. I think that it was named after a French officer (keep your snarky comments to yourself, thank you very much). There are still remnants of French colonialism: old canons, gutted column buildings, large decrepit mansions and lots and lots of aggressive salespersons selling embroidered tablecloths and minutely carved model ships.
This little boy sold us some home-made granola bars.
Girls practice the traditional Nose Be face painting on each other.
One can also fill a one-gallon large plastic bottle with white or dark rhum distilled locally. I tasted about a finger’s worth of the stuff and felt drunk all day.
Throughout the country, the delectable main dish consists of Zebu (a humped animal much like a skinny-cow with a floppy fin), chicken and pork. A vegetarian’s dream.
Boats make the early trip from remote parts of the island to bring souvenirs to tourists or seafood to restaurants.
The Natural Reserve of Andasibe
There are increasingly larger numbers of reserves in Madagascar with local villagers protecting their natural resources in the hopes of profiting from eco-tourism. In a five hour hike, we spotted 2 snakes, large millipedes, a chameleon, a giraffe-necked insect, several families of Lemurs (here an Indris), delicate dragonflies, orchid spouts…
Our guide showed us a plant from which the early anti-malarial quinine is made. He drinks a tea infused with the leaves and barks every night to prevent the sleeping sickness.
This is an orchid (I think) that grows in our garden. You should consider yourself lucky because I was tempted to post all my 27 pictures of flowers but managed to restrain myself. At the risk of sounding trite, the flowers are absolutely beautiful in Madagascar, no doubt owing to the heavy rain and bright sunny conditions.
There are so many things to say about this stunning country. I hope that you can forgive me of not covering the most salient aspects of its history of bloody queens, political coup d’etats, colonialisation, loss of hundreds of species of animals and plants by overgrazing or hunting, cultural beliefs reminiscent of Asian practices, and much much more. Just go there yourself or read the Lonely Planet Guide.
Our guide showed us a plant from which the early anti-malarial quinine is made. He drinks a tea infused with the leaves and barks every night to prevent the sleeping sickness.
This is an orchid (I think) that grows in our garden. You should consider yourself lucky because I was tempted to post all my 27 pictures of flowers but managed to restrain myself. At the risk of sounding trite, the flowers are absolutely beautiful in Madagascar, no doubt owing to the heavy rain and bright sunny conditions.
There are so many things to say about this stunning country. I hope that you can forgive me of not covering the most salient aspects of its history of bloody queens, political coup d’etats, colonialisation, loss of hundreds of species of animals and plants by overgrazing or hunting, cultural beliefs reminiscent of Asian practices, and much much more. Just go there yourself or read the Lonely Planet Guide.
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