Day 31

Gosh, it has been a while since I last wrote. I am sat in bed at the apartment with no address, with my first bout of what is know as traveller's diarrhea. It is 2:20am and I am up and awake given that I have slept much of the day. I have actually been vaccinated against such incidences, but it does not feel like it right now! Everything got cancelled today, including my first Malian personal training session and my French class. I have had very limited access to the internet since moving into this new place, so I am afraid this accounts for my reduction in communication. Madame Khoule (the owner) keeps promising to find a solution, but here we are. I think I may opt for a dongle and go it alone. What do I need to tell you. Yes, two weeks have passed and unsurprisingly I have settled into life here quite comfortably. So much so that I have been running around networking and making enquiries as to how I might stay on here for longer. I just know that 3 months is not going to be long enough and it will be so useful to continue the French speaking effort. It is immersion to a degree because I am forced to speak it everyday, particularly outside of the office, however, several of my immediate colleagues also speak limited English so I must converse with them in French.

Abdullah picks me up each morning to take me to work, for which I pay 2,000 CFA ($4) for the privilege and then I travel home in a variety of ways. Right now, I am actually alone in the three-bedroom apartment. Felipe had to return home to Columbia unexpectedly and Dan has left for the region of Gao for four weeks. I realised how much I was going to miss Dan when I worked out that we had eaten together for almost every evening since he arrived. Fredrik, a big burly Viking, as he continues to refer to himself, is going to come and look at the spare room tomorrow. For now, I am going to enjoy the weekend on my own. It is amazing how quickly you get used to a place, the weather, the food. As far as a first peacekeeping mission goes, I have had it easy. In contrast Dan text me from Gao earlier and said there is only one place to eat, no internet and they were expecting a sand storm. This does not seem imaginable in the leafy bustling streets of Bamako. Right now it is raining quite hard and it is only a matter of time before the rainy season takes hold. I am expecting the road outside to turn into a mudslide and my must prepare to buy a pair of wellingtons. The disparity between rich and poor continues. We live in a very nice apartment block that would not look out of place in the Costa del Sol, however, we wake up in the morning and there are children across the road engaged in light manual labour and many of the to-be-constructed buildings are temporary homes for people. The other week I was very kindly invited to see a friend of a friend. He showed me around his neighbourhood, he introduced me to a hundred people, including his parents, and then we drank very sweet tea. What amused me was that I looked into a courtyard and saw many sheep and chickens walking around. No unusual sight in the Cornish countryside but seemed exotic in the centre of Bamako. Beydi was so kind, inviting me in for dinner with his wife. We sat around a table and ate out of the same plate, I mean why waste crockery. He then dropped me off before going for drinks with the Prime Minister. I asked him if he could ask the PM if he could do something about our power outages. On that note, however, we have a fine generator now installed. The AC toils on.

I had my first expat party, oh it was fun. The theme was angels and demons. Some of you saw the pictures, my costume ended up resembling the Queen which is entirely appropriate. An angel in my eyes anyway. The music was an excellent eclectic mix of tunes from the eighties and nineties. It was a little strange being in the office and not being in the office. Everyone was there that I meet on daily basis, but most were drinking and dancing (and smoking). Not something you will see very often in UNHQ. I love the free smoking rules, people light up in their office, in the bar, in the restaurant. It is like old times! Changing topic, it is interesting how expats are seen so unashamedly as a source of income. Everywhere you go, you are asked for money. When I arrived at the supermarket last night my taxi was surrounded by people, asking for money, or trying to sell me something. It gives you almost a taste celebrity, which is some small way is exciting! Much as I am an egotist, I must keep a eye on these things and remind myself to be humble. All the more difficult when you have spent five years in a city where whatever you want is available at anytime of the day, for any price.

There we are I must try and sleep.