Bob the dog & where I live

Hippo sur le Chari

Le Chari

Le Chari

N'Djamena Road

As I crews along the sunny tarmac, being overtaken by all that I see and enjoying the sandy side of life, I stop to contemplate why at the glance of my red moped, my smooth white helmet and cool shades the ladies turn their heads and the boys all stop in awe! Suffice to say, all this unwanted attention is perhaps due to my unique moped. There is not one like it throughout town! Sporting a N'Djamena road sticker accompanied by a black panther and hero one, it is needless to say coveted and envied by all. It certainly puts on a remarkable show of sophistication and grace as it turns the corners and sails down the straits (yes sails!). Some even call it....la flèche rouge!

Umm, this I thought until one day, one of my colleagues turned round to me and gave me a similar account of vanity...it was only then that I thought the unimaginable:

-Is it coz I is white?

So I thought I would talk to you about the wonders of being white in an African country. Even though there are a few rich Africans around town (one has a 4X4 porche nearby), the white man is classified de facto as rich. Therefore I have had my fair share of punctual demands! The difficulty is to decipher the reel person in need from the liar or the thief. That is the bit when I say to myself….-Is it coz I is white?

One amusing fact around here is the older generations call us "nazaran's". This comes from Nazareth because the whites are all brothers of Jesus! Thus we are from Nazareth (it's all very tribal). This is even more amusing when you consider that no one knows where the name comes from or what it means. Another amusing fact especially out in the "brousse" (outback) is that all the white people are fathers and sisters! So the sister could be swinging her hips around the bar or the father spending all his time building buildings, this is never put into question!

 Health:

There is something positive to cheer about when being ill around here; it is that one gets to see people and places! Therefore after getting frustrated last month with recurring health problems I decided to go to the army base (the French one) where a free health service is provided. This is one of the very positive things the French army gets up to around here. Surgery and sophisticated equipment for analysis's are the reason one might go there (apart from the fact that it's free). I met up with a Dr colonel (I didn't know medical staff were ranked in the army) and after a check up, nothing serious to report...adaptation. I then met the religious army team; there is a catholic priest, a pastor and even an imam (there are a few muslims in the ranks). To my surprise the catholic priest is Polish. He was a refugee to France from the communist era.

Anyway I have been quite tranquil of late with my health!

Sunday mass:

It's nine o'clock on Sunday morning and motorbikes start flooding in the sandy courtyard where a carefully set out car park is taken care of in order to maintain…well order!

The faithful turn up wearing their finest attire; suits, boubou, shinny shoes for the men and dresses of all colors (sometimes more like evening dresses), heals and fancy haircuts for the ladies when not covered up in an equally extravagant manner. Style is essential around here and it's great to see.

As some of you know religion is omnipresent around these parts and people actually give a cult back to God ;) in their masses! The church is packed every Sunday and it is all very well organized! There is a church band: drums, guitars and a pretty cool fancy choir who bop along to the rhythm (think gospel choir). It is the chic parish so the sound equipment is good. The music is a mixture of mo-town and Caribbean reggae under the coconut trees. They occasionally sing out of tune but life goes on. On top of that some of the sermons are pretty interesting. One difference to the service in Europe is that the offertory is danced. Children dance their way to the altar with the money and some more bring the bread and wine. This is all carefully choreographed. And all of that lasts an average of two hours!

Bakara

Bakara is a village just outside town where the seminary is. There are two seminaries in Chad, one here and another down south. A couple of weeks ago, took place the ordinations of twelve deacons (that’s the one before priesthood). The seminary, being outside of town and in the country, is surrounded by trees in the shade. The service therefore took place outside under the trees; a natural cathedral I thought? The bishop was a Spanish missionary. The church being very young, is only at its first native bishops therefore there are still a few foreign ones around including this one.

The seminarists, looking very classy in their white soutanes and black belts, had a stylish little choir going with a drum kit and a couple of electric guitars. The service went on as usual: the various rituals, the Eucharist and the speeches when at the very end something rather different and unexpected happened:

Now in Europe, it is a custom to give a gift to the newly ordained discreetly after the service (on the big table where people are having drinks nearby). But over here things take a different proportion: Music starts, everybody gets in line down the middle (really everybody) and I am standing on the receiving end being part of a chain (about 6 or 7 of us) to put the gifts away; sort of pass the passel. The presents then start flooding in, but not what you might expect i.e. books, ecclesiastical garments or some other fancy thing… No! On came some eggs, soap, nuts, water,…then came a few wrapped presents (there was a book in there to my relief!), money (always useful)…all of this whilst I was passing on down the chain. I then found myself with a couple of pigeons in my hands (still alive!) then came a couple of hens (still alive!) and then one chap decided it would be a good idea to give a goat (still alive!)! So I found myself with a goat in my hands! All of these carried upside down by their feet like bounty. So you see, over hear people give what they can and they give essentials. Stuff like bottled water is a luxury and makes a present.

We then had a good meal with some nice cold drinks!

N'Djamena:

About N'Djamena: The president has decided now that the petrol dollars are coming in, that he is to build "la vitrine de l'Afrique" (sort of show room town for Africa). The town therefore resembles a huge building site. There isn't one corner of town where there isn't some big project going on. I mentioned the restoration of the old cathedral. It has been decided that a huge basilica will be built as well as big government buildings. Roads and bridges are popping up, companies and countries are investing. Qatar will be splashing out its own petrol dollars on a future 5 star hotel and a dozen dispensaries.

So there you have it, The country is slowly getting somewhere providing there aren't any wars or power struggles in the near future which isn't guaranteed. Other than that it's hot and sandy.

Work at the centre:

So how are my first weeks of teaching going...well rather good: French and English is good fun (there very happy to hear real english) and the kids are generally well behaved. Philosophy is a bit of a challenge considering they don't have the texts on hand. There program is thematic and reading just bits of authors is not very constructive…We shall see. I am also doing a bit of history (obviously this is all about the slave trade and at the moment the segregation problem in the states).

I had my first muslim holiday this month when they celebrate Aïd or Tabaskie as it is called here. They all slaughter a sheep to remember Abraham's offering (or something like that).

We had the big yearly party at the parish last week-end when sister M celebrated her jubilee. It Is quite an achievement to have spent 25 years around here and forces respect. She gave a speech at the end of mass under the gazing eye of the French ambassador. Many old students came round to salute her and said how she was a mother figure to them. We then ate a sheep for lunch to celebrate. (just in case you're wondering, we didn't slaughter it).

Basile & the kitchen:

Last but not least, I thought I would recount my little encounter that I had with Basile last night. Basile is the chief rat in the kitchen (according to Disney rats are always French; so Basile it is!). Now as I was scavenging for some spaghetti at an unholy hour of the night and trying to operate my fabulously authentic cooker with my torch and matches. I spotted over my head Basile who was quietly on walk about on the kitchen window. It was then that I threw onto him the spotlight of my torch and began to quietly converse with him:

"Oi you cheeky little s*%t... get down from there!(excuse my French)

-I'm up here and yurr downs zerrrr, and I will neverr get down haha! Said he,

-You tiny little annoying...I'll show you the true meaning of ratatouille (sorry not very original I know)!

He calmly starred down onto me with his little round eyes in a squeaky little manner as I tried to discern something to do…

I then turned unto the cat who was miaouling at my feet and I said unto thee:

"-What do you waiteth for?" I asked

The cat stared right back at me with chicken in his eyes…

So I carried on with my cooking and I ate my spaghetti...Basile stayed up on the window until daylight knowing that time is ticking...