Meat

OK I have survived a whole week.

 I say survived as clearly I am seen as a fodder for the local insect and parasitic life forms. Seriously the mini monsters here are vicious to the extent that I am covered in little red mountains across my ankles, calves, thighs, hips, nipple – yeah that’s rights, I did say nipple – clearly one little fecker fancied something a little more exotic than my type A+ . If that wasn’t enough, for some reason wherever I have these bites I also develop a large bruise to complete the look.  Now I can’t work out if this is from the vigorous slapping of myself when under attack, which,  if observed from a distance may look like an form of self stimulation or I suppose an extension of my naked tribal shower dance. Or maybe the bruises are from the poison injected into me by the Mozzies so that they ‘go large’ on their order.  Oh well, next to the pearly white skin dotted with red lumps the blue/black smudges add a nice artistic touch!

The search for my new apartment has progressed and mid week it looked like I had found not 1 but potentially 4 places to stay. They were all in the nicer part of town up a hill with a splendid view overlooking the Atlantic, all with private generators and water tanks, and most were huge with 3 bedrooms/3 bathrooms . In the end though I decided to reject comfort and convenience and not to take any of them. For now I will stay in this delightful little hovel, where I sit typing by candle light and splattering Mozzies which are attracted by the light of the screen before realising its just a short hop to a tasty snack (don’t worry, my breasts are not exposed)!

Bathroom

Kitchen

My reasons for deciding to stay are complicated but simply the location of the apartments was just too isolating for me and the size alone would make me feel extremely lonely. At least here I can walk to (one of the few) supermarkets and do a bit of shopping. There I would have to always rely on a driver or worse, tackle driving one of the  4X4’s myself – and the bloody controls are on the wrong side, as well as them driving on the wrong side (and I thought this was an ex-British colony). This is before mentioning the kamikaze approach to driving that people take on roads which are actually beyond description and not really fit for man nor beast!

Remember the poor Saint Helena wall and my police caution – I don’t think I can face the local equivalent just yet!! And right now I think I have used up my entire ‘brave’ quota for this month – I have no doubt that it will soon be replenished again and I will get behind that wheel.(Ooops – think I lost a sister to a heart attack there).

As to work – Mmmmmm, all I will say different party, same guests. But this time accompanied with a heavy French and/ or African accent. To be completely honest and just between you and me (and whoever else stumbles across these ramblings), I have absolutely no idea what’s going on at all as I probably only understand about 25% of what is said.  The nod has returned. As has the finger over the mouth trying to look inquisitive.  Occasionally I get out a notebook to and write a couple of words in it. That looks intelligent and organised right?

Seriously though how would you lot cope with unrelenting exposure to:

“sensitisation programmes” (is this to help people develop a phobia ??)

“capitalisation” (we want to set up a shop??)

“harmonisation” (I’m a member of the Von Trapp Family Singers??)

And these are just the words I actually caught.

 I think I’m involved in some serious shit though as this week I met the Deputy Director for the countries Health Service, and next week I am at a meeting at the Irish Embassy representing the federation…….

………..I think I like it when I’m just meat!!!

Love and stuff

Jo

xxx

P.s there appears to be some followers missing, do I do the name and shame now or give it another couple of weeks???

Arrivals

Well I appear to have found myself a resident of West Africa! Some week eh?!

It’s hot

And the locals are saying that it is their winter….

But its hot.

Luckily my bedroom has air con……

Sadly I don’t (currently) have a regular electricity supply.

But hopefully I am only in temporary accommodation and the charity have been trying hard to secure better homes for all ex-pat staff but the deal on my flat fell through just a few days before I arrived. I don’t mind though, it just means I get to have lots of early nights. But it is a tad frustrating to suddenly find oneself immersed into darkness and have to feel my way around the apartment to my only torch. And to be frank even when the lighting is on it is so poor that I can barely see!

The shower situation is a bit more of a concern. Firstly, well to put it bluntly, it came off in my hand when I tried to use it. Secondly the water that now comes out of the tap in the middle of the wall is at such a trickle it almost has time to evaporate before its hits my feet (its hot you see). Finally and most concerning (if being sweaty and unclean wasn’t enough) the space were I have my shower is right next to a window. Now this window is to the stairwell that my neighbour uses to go up to his flat and also where the security guard sits in – fabulous. It is not a small window by the way. There will full exposure from head to at least half arse. And what with the tribal dance moves that I will need to do to get some of the trickle of water on my body, that should make for interesting viewing! I expect there to be 2 less staff by the end of the week immediate resignations tendered either that or 2 more disabled people as their eyes cease to function from the trauma of the horror!

I also have no toilet seat – that came off when I sat on it – but hey at least I have a flushing toilet!!

Oh and I don’t have a working fridge either………

Mmmmm not really selling it am I?!! But honestly it really is all OK and nowhere near as  bad as I thought it would be.

 Getting into the country was no problem, no corruption, queues, no-one trying to steal my bags. The transfer from the airport was an adventure in itself which involved a 20 minute ride on a speed boat. Now obviously for those of you who remember my arrival in Saint Helena and the close encounter with the South Atlantic will understand the slight trepidation as I walked down the gangplank. Well my anxiety was clearly evident as I was given special assistance by about 5 men (I’m not complaining). But how have I a managed to secure again a position where arrival by boat is required – come on what are the odds eh?!

The set up for work is quite unusual. I am picked up in the morning by the driver – I (along with all staff) am not allowed to use public transport. There is a cook at lunch time.  I can pay the equivalent of $1 to have a massive plate of local cuisine – yeah as if I would ever in a million years say no to that set-up (see blog entry 2 – reasons for coming). I have also stuck up a deal with Alfa the cook (the only name amongst the 40 or so staff that I can remember – obviously) for him to purchase my fruit from the cheaper of the cities markets which is out of easy reach without a vehicle (especially as I can’t use transport)

 I can of course request to use one of the cars in the evening but I don’t intend taking up this offer anytime soon, but there is a driver on call if I do want to go out over the weekend and so one can’t complain.

 I also have a cleaner for the apartment who does my washing and ironing. She came today so I made sure I gave a quick going over before I left for work!!

So there we have it. My first entry into life here.

Its OK.

Yeah I may be a bit whiffy and haven’t yet felt clean since I got here.

Yeah I may be developing a bit of a soggy finger from reverting to a coping mechanism from  Saint Helena ( followers may recall the addiction)

Yeah I may, regardless of my new cropped hairstyle, have some form of huge bush on the top of my head

And, oh God there’s no doubt I won’t be able to do the job,

But I am OK.

Honest!

Linguistics, Limba, Linguine….??

Well here I am installed in my studio apartment in Lyon drinking my €2.60 red wine out of a mug (yes sorry Jessica it has come to that again), which I acquired within 30 mins of hitting my accommodation (one must get their priorities right and the French certainly have with this splendid bottle).

I arrived last night without incident, unless you count the heart-breaking wrench saying goodbye to my family that is.

I have made the discovery that

1)      Lyon is very French.

From what I have seen of the city it appears very nice, however to be honest my judgement is based on a trip to local shop to buy wine, a walk to the office and back, and a trip to the local MacDonalds for tea. And before you judge, my dear friend Kirsty has instilled into me that it is important to go into a McD’s in different countries to sample the local cultural differences on the menu. So today I have also discovered that:

2)      The French big Mac tastes like the British Big mac – shit!

 I have also decided that it is a myth that the French are rude. I would have to say far from it. In fact everyone who I have spoken to has been more than patient and kind with me, especially as I appear to respond to any comments in French with broken Romanian. Yes folks, it appears my default setting is the very basic Romanian that I picked up 10 years ago when working there! To be honest I have spoken more Romanian in the last 24hrs than when I lived there. In my defence Romanian is a romance language so the sounds are quite similar (and boy wouldn’t I like to have a bit of romance with one or two of the fella’s I’ve seen knocking around here, ooh la la!!)

When it’s not Romanian, linguistically I appear to be relying on some primitive knowledge of French learnt from either music or well shall we just say, other influences. For example when the shop keeper last night asked me for the price of this rather splendid table wine, I had no problem replying “deux euro’s”, however, if it had been down to me I would have been paying “deux euro soixante-neuf”, I will let you work that little gem out!

Today has been a rather overwhelming day with no less than 7 meetings. And another discovery I have made is that

3)      The French like to talk.

Seriously, at one point to day I started to look at the air vents on the wall to see if some noxious gases containing derivatives of cocaine were be being filtered through. Luckily I have years of practice at feigning listening utilising the regulation techniques of ‘head nod and tilt’ and ‘repeat the last sentence that is said’, to make it look like I was listening. I was then able to concentrate on important matters, like who had coined the phrase ‘soixante-neuf…… !!

Anyway I have had day one of my induction with a variety of nice people who’s names resemble a GCSE French text book, and been sent home with an archaic laptop, which I think I will return tomorrow well its all in French….( I wonder if they will set it to Romanian for me?!!).

 Day 2 tomorrow only 6 meetings, god my neck will be stiff by the end of it

La revedeve

multă iubire

Xx

When is an adventure not an adventure…..

what was my living room ;-(

Firstly, Happy New Year to you all. I hope it brings you many happy adventures of your own.

Now I’m not too sure that I should be making this entry, no not because I am a little squiffy – because that would prevent me from completing almost half of my regular communications in life…. No it’s because it has become apparent that quite a few people don’t believe the adventure has started.  A couple of people have asked when it will begin, and another has refused to read this blog stating, and I quote, “you’re not there yet”.

Now to me, this little foray into another unknown began the day I wrote to (stalked) the Director of Services on the Falkland Islands and suggested he give me job;  but that my friends  is another story altogether….

My point is though, that getting to this stage – 4 days before departure, has almost been enough of an adventure for one lifetime.

First there was the attempt to get physically fitter – Mmmmm despite the amazing efforts of a highly qualified and rather special team, it became apparent that I am officially allergic to exercise!

Then there were the (several) leaving celebrations. The final one in Birmingham climaxed on this particular high.

Sorry that I can’t give you full details but needless to say, the post traumatic support group is currently being established for all those involved. I am very concerned that I will miss it and have no idea what long term mental scarring I will suffer as a result!

Self-mutilation has also occurred with the lobbing off of over 6” of hair

… and yes there is some level of regret there, especially as every morning I need to ask myself the same question –‘have I  slept with my finger in the plug socket or what?!!’.

And then came the leaving of my home of 8 years. All I am going to say is that in those last few days there was lots of grunting, quite a bit of pushing, thrusting and forcing things into tight gaps; lots of sweating and heavy breathing and to be frank, a little smidgen of contortionism going on - I put quite a strain on a few men’s backs and knees I can tell you!

Obviously I am talking about them carrying my belongings down 2 flights of narrow stairs, you dirty minded fiends! But in all seriousness the guys who got my stuff into storage were simply gems. And there are also 3 other very special people who took time out to become intimately acquainted with my bits and bobs.  In fact when I look back I realise that between Carol, Kirsty and Afshin there was never a day in the 10 days before leaving when one of them wasn’t by my side either helping my pack my belongings or simply making sure I had food and a place to stay. Just the most amazing friends ever.  As are all the rest who helped in one way or another, for example Ella who gave me all the packing boxes I ever needed – I’ve simply been blessed.

I am however a little disconcerted that this is all I amount to in life…..

My worldly possessions

And I’m also a little aggrieved that my Wizz product hasn’t arrived. Now I’m not going to say too much however I was delighted when a friend found a solution to my future toilet problem ( http://www.whizproducts.co.uk/en/). I was looking forward to practicing in the shower like it advises, but as I’m now back in my parental home, I don’t think my mum will be too pleased if I start pissing up the shower cubical wall!! (btw, I have never actually asked why/how Alex knows about these things – some things are best left unsaid!!)

And so now here I am, back with my family, my worldly possessions contained within 125sq Ft, writing my last entry from the UK before going to France for my 2 day briefing on Sunday. I have said my fond goodbyes to the city that has twice been my home. But I haven’t said goodbye to the many friends I have made there, no for them just the heartfelt words.......…………

PUT YOURSELVES AS BLOODY FOLLOWERS!!!

Love

XxX