fame

Happy Independence Day

I have a handover.

It’s a bad one.

Oh I did my first big night out in style, eventually rocking home at 5 am. Not only am I suffering from tsunami level waves of nausea I also have an equally strong ebb and flow of guilt washing over me. Firstly from stealing a shaker of cinnamon from the (last) club I was in, which if I remember rightly was in lieu of salt and was accompanying some non-descript shot I was throwing down my neck. In fairness though 1) at least by this stage I was being civilised enough to drink out of a glass which was progress on my earlier suckling of both Brandy and Gin from their plastic pouches. 2) I did have enough sense to actually stop taking the shots and just concentrated on licking cinnamon off myself I just continued to do so after I left the building.

And the other reason for the guilt is that we had a new driver start with us yesterday and the poor man should have finished his first ever shift at 12. After dropping me and the vehicle back I think he finished at 6am. Ooops. And I haven’t even had chance to feed him yet so that he doesn’t begrudge me this slight (!!) indiscretion.

But I needed a blow out – it was time.

Firstly, I was only doing what the rest of the country was doing to see in the 51^st anniversary of Independence from the British.

To mark the occasion I was really touched when the office cleaner brought his wife to meet me and then presented me with this gift to wear today, which they had hand made for me.

It’s a national flag tunic, and a hat

I think the plan was I wear it today in town while watching the processions but as I am definitely going to die at some point today, I think its best I do it quietly in my own bed and not leave the apartment. However the hat is a bit wee-willy-winky so I might put that on as I sleep.

In addition to tradition I had a surreal intense day yesterday which climaxed with my live interview with the BBC for their 5 Live drive time show.

The reason for my international fame related to the fact that yesterday was the verdict of the warlord Charles Taylor at The Hague. The ex Liberian president was found guilty of pretty much causing and perpetuating the 10 year long savage civil war in the country. There was a lot of tension in the city yesterday, security measures were put in place by the organisation to limit our movements away from potential area’s of risk, outside the special court for example, and there was a heavy armed military presence on the streets. Thankfully the verdict was positive and maybe it will help the country move on now. But the scars of this war go so very deep.

A trade mark of the rebels as they ravaged the country in the war was (amongst other horrific violence) to hack off the limbs of innocent people. And the BBC wanted to get an interview from someone in the country dealing with the victims.

And through a process of elimination it came down to me, despite the fact I’m not actually dealing with any patients directly.

Also, when I agreed to do it one hour before the interview I was not actually told that it was bloody live – oh no the BBC runner in London dropped that little bomb shell on my half an hour before. Jesus, I cacked my pants. My director cacked his pants. And I know people in both the Lyon and London office were cacking their pants too!!!

Initially it was going to be 10 minutes, but as the programme was overrunning I (luckily) only had 90 seconds of fame. And below for your listening pleasure is the link (I think you have to navigate 1hr 15mins into the programme).

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/bigscreen/radio/episode/b01gk0n5/

I haven’t actually heard this myself as the internet is slow – I think I will leave it that way too!

And thanks to Kristy for putting up on my facebook wall, again I’ve not had a good enough signal to view it, so I hope the photos are not too incriminating!!!

So, in addition to this the day was filled with other highly charged events, including the departure of my project manager who we had decided not to renew a contract with, a member of staff showing me a picture of the body of his murdered brother lay out on the mortuary slab and also 2 difficult meetings at the ministry.

And this was all happening while trying to finalise the arrangements for my mission to Liberia next week. Which given yesterdays events is now questionable if I will travel and I won’t get the go ahead until Sunday lunch time. If one of my newly self-appointed protectors has his way I won’t be going anywhere – he made his point known very assertively yesterday.

So I needed a drink.

A lot of drinks

And now I’m dying.

And what has one of the drivers brought me as an Independence Day gift: 8 pouches of Brandy and 3 pouches of whiskey

Oh well hair of the dog and all that…..