Richard Wesley

Christchurch in Ruins

2011-02-22T22:00:00.055+13:00

"Wow, I think I've got a blown tire... in fact two front tires... maybe all my tires...?!?!"

I was driving along Moorhouse Avenue in Christchurch, New Zealand, at 12:51pm on Tuesday 22nd February 2011, when the city's future was changed forever. It took me quite some seconds though to figure out what was happening when my car went suddenly out of control, lurching from side to side, the steering wheel with a mind of its own, and many thoughts kept racing through my head:

"...I can't have blown all my tires?!... in fact I'm stationary now... but the car is still shaking... the hydraulic power steering pump must be faulty... cars all seem to have on board computers don't they... maybe the car has come alive like in a science fiction movie...".

I was brought back into focus from my crazy theories by bricks crashing into the footpath on the other side of the road.

"...ah... earthquake... big earthquake... "

I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, having come to a stop under the large brick clock tower of the old Christchurch railway station, which was now waving back and forth above me like a children's block town just before collapse, raining bricks with each wobble.

Hitting the accelerator I screeched around into the nearby Countdown supermarket carport in excellent Christchurch boy racer style, coming to a stop on the far side, as far away from the tower as I could get before being blocked by the chain fence.

As I jumped out the shaking came to an end, and I looked around at a suddenly stationary scene slowly coming back to life. People starting streaming out of "Science Alive", a children's educational area housed in the old railway station, but they were stopping on the footpath, directly under the damaged tower. Filled with more than a little adrenaline, I raced to the central traffic island (as close as I felt safe), and quietly and politely advised those evacuating the building that perhaps they would like to move away from the obvious hazard above them in an orderly manner.

In the heat of the moment, this good intentioned message perhaps came out a little more on the impolite side, possibility laced with some expletives, and involving phases closer to "... YOU WILL MOVE AWAY FROM THE BUILDING IMMEDIATELY... @#$%... START RUNNING NOW...". It only took a few people in the crowd to twig to the situation and break for it and quickly everyone else was also well clear of the building.

Taking a breath, I thought, that's all I can do here, and turned away. But at that moment the lights at the Moorhouse Barbadoes intersection turned green and a three lane wall of traffic seemed intent on taking the place of the evacuees, directly under the damaged tower. Out onto the road again I had an attempt during one phase of the traffic lights to at least direct traffic into the lane furthest from the tower, but quickly realised the futility of it all, and turned to more drastic action, blocking the entire westward side of Moorhouse Ave with wheelie bins.

Several other people in the area joined in to help me, and the very minute we finished our handiwork, as if to confirm our decision, the first aftershock struck. It felt as if all the eyes in the area fixed on the tower: we at the makeshift cordon, the groups huddled on the footpaths around about, the hundreds of grid locked drivers behind us on Moorhouse Avenue.

The tower rocked back and forth alarmingly, chunks of bricks fell again from its four corners, the plywood covering put in place on the tower after the September earthquake bulged as bricks came loose inside, eventually spilling out bricks when one corner split open. When the shaking stopped, the dynamic buildings around us turned static again, and to our collective amazement, the tower was still standing.

I finally felt that I could leave the site knowing I had done all I could, and sprinted towards the polytechnic institute where my partner Elodie was with our baby Zara. After many frantic laps of the campus and many attempted cell phone calls, I found them waiting in front of the still imposing Catholic Basilica, now with its large front two towers lying in crumpled ruins on the road.

Although we still had no idea of the full extent of the earthquake, the number of injured I had seen in cars passing by me at my roadblock, and the damaged buildings now coming into view, meant that perhaps the central hospital could be overwhelmed with wounded. It was basically on our way home and so that was the direction we headed. It took a long time to make the journey, wandering down the middle of the roads hopefully out of reach of the teetering buildings, weaving in amongst the stationary traffic, looking north up Colombo Street with its crushed cars and buses, pausing to block another road (St Asaph Street) to clear the way for ambulances to reach the hospital, trying to send cars back down a basically empty one way street to escape the city.

The hospital turned out to be in ok shape, with a couple of wards flooded, but the emergency department appeared to be in good working order, and the massive streams of wounded I feared never eventuated. Helicopters were filling the sky, emergency vehicles raced past, injured were being brought in at regular intervals by various means, from pickups to police cars. Elodie was helping an old lady whose wardrobe had fallen on her into the hospital when another large aftershock hit, sending the main hospital tower block swaying back and forth in a hideous motion above us.

At this point the idea of witnessing the hospital collapse with Elodie inside was a little too much for me, and hours of operating on adrenaline was taking its toll, so we headed off down the street for home. On the way was the bunch of students trying to roll the remains of their chimney off the roof, the elderly man standing next to his collapsed brick garage, and the liquefaction volcano on a neighbours front lawn.

Our little cottage was untouched outside, though the inside scene was quite a mess with broken wine glasses, mixed with dessert syrup, making the kitchen unusable. There was no power and water, and the aftershocks just kept on coming, every half hour it seemed through the night. All three of us got little sleep that night and so in the morning we recovered the car from where I had abandoned it on Moorhouse Ave (a story in itself), and headed south to friends in Dunedin to rest and recover.

The center of Christchurch now lies in ruins, and only time will tell now just how much death and destruction occurred on this single quiet Tuesday afternoon.

Red Tape

2010-02-13T04:59:00.003+13:00

Visa renewal in Cameroon is a perfect example of this countries insanity. Visa to enter the country are expensive, but the cost and process of renewing a visa while in the country is like something out of a bad movie.

First you need to get a small pile of papers prepared for your 'file'. A copy of your passport, a letter from your employing organisation requesting an extension, the registration of that organisation, etc. Then when handing in the papers you might be requested for a copy of someone else's ID, maybe a letter from you previous employer before coming to Cameroon - the more irrelevant the better.

The office of course defies belief. Crowed and dirty, with huge sacks of paper lining the walls, broken doors and windows, various people milling around the corridors. The person I was to see today had a Che Guevara T-shirt on and surprisingly spoke excellent english. He explained how in Cameroon there was only yes or no, that there was no way my friend from Belo could get a three month extension (even though I had got one, and another friend has got one two weeks ago), that now only two months was available at the three month price?

Of course the ultimate excuse was soon brought forth, that it wasn't his decision, it was the directors. Her hideout was across the way and was a completely baron office, except for the large desk, cell phone, and of course one random friend to chat to. She was dressed in the most outrageous pink, complete with a lot of pink eye liner.

Listening was not her forte. It would seem that rising to her position must have involved a lot of shouting and refusals, as she was very good at it. Clearly no logical progress could be made here. So, plan B, head to another office on the other side of town that turns out to be able to do the same thing, take some money and stamp the passport.

The really frustrating point though for me is that it is a prime example of Camroonians shooting themselves in the foot, over and over. The logic they try to use in so many situations is so twisted that it should be funny (but isn't) - visas are difficult to obtain for Cameroon citizens to visit developed nations, so Cameroon should make them hard for visiting tourists and workers; car safety is a serious safety issue, that's why its important for policeman to take bribes from overloaded taxi drivers at random; road rules slow down the traffic, traditional medicines just haven't been discovered by the west yet, the list goes on....!!!

Judith's Cameroon Visit

2010-01-16T03:09:00.001+13:00

Christmas this year was spent in Yaounde with some friends putting on a great feed at their house on the other side of town. Elodie and I then headed to Kirbi, with its wonderful long deserted stretches of white sand and some quiet beach time. We hoped to track down some rare turtles laying their eggs on the beach under the cover of darkness, but after two nights out walking and sleeping on the beaches we will have to try again another day for that experience.

My sister Judith arrrived in Cameroon to visit our African outpost just before the year ended. We headed with her for the hills and spent New Years Eve beside a beautiful lake at the top of the Mananguba Mountains, about half way between the coast and where I work in Belo. The 'guide' turned out to be a right pain, but we got there in the end and enjoyed a swim, fresh fish, and christmas pudding all the way from New Zealand. My mate Andy also joined us for this little camping trip.

Cameroon has featured in the movies it turns out, with one of the main sets of Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan (1984), being a huge Ekom waterfalls. This was Elodie and I's second visit here and this time we got to balance across the log at the top, which in the rainy season is under the water.

Back in Yaounde we visited the money park nearby where there are many small chimpanzees being raised by hand, and quite a large family of gorillas, which have been rescued from various zoos and pet owners around the country. They were just as interested in us and we were in them. There was another monkey refuge down in Limbe that we also visited but this first experience of being up close and personal was amazing.

Judith and I then got some time in Belo, along with Ryan, an american dance teacher who spent a couple of days with the kids teaching them some good old fashioned disney stage moves. They kids loved it and here is a quick video of the practice...

We also visited Betuael, a little boy with a serious skin condition which is keeping him out of school, Stephen of course my favorite, and a few of the other orphans around town. We also visited the local waterfall near Anarjua for a quick swim.

Other items on Judith's three week itinerary included more time at the beach in Kribi for mid week, an explore of the Limbe coast line with a stop at the boarder with Nigeria and it's colourful boats, a swim in a famous fresh water spring at the base of Mt Cameroon, and of course Judith meeting some young locals at the hotel pool! Then it was time for her to return to New Zealand for some rest, Elodie to return to work in Yaounde, and me to return to the orphan project in Belo for the start of the new years list of jobs. It really was wonderful to be able to share a little of this year with someone from home.

Bushmeat

2009-12-19T07:09:00.003+13:00

In Cameroon there is quite a large amount of hunting for what is known as 'bushmeat'. Basically anything that moves in the forest is considered fair game for the dinner table. Now that the larger animals in most parts of the country are gone ('got finished' in the local pigion english) the main targets are smaller.

Around Belo children hunt for rats and small types of cats. On my visit to Gabon many months ago there were teenage boys on the side of the road offering up their latest catches for sale.

So I guess there is not too much hope for conservation in these parts until the poverty levels are raised above just subsistence living?

Kelvin

2009-12-15T03:04:00.005+13:00

My latest little orphan friend is Kelvin, a little three year old I come across on Tuesday after his uncle come to see me. His mother died a couple of weeks ago, leaving him and his two month old sister to be cared for by their crippled grandmother.

There is a big difference between living with HIV (the case now in the OECD countries with access to effective anti retro virals) and dying of AIDS (mostly the reality for the rest of the world with no access to any medical care). Kelvin is definitely in the later, and fits the perfect model of an AIDS orphan who should now be dead himself. Maybe he still won't make it, but at least he will have had a shot at it with his admission to a nearby hospital on Wednesday. He's got advanced pneumonia, a massive thrush infection of the mouth and throat, and is severely malnourished.

After a couple of days care he now has the strength to sit up and seems to like the special therapeutic food which tastes like peanut butter and milk power combined, even if he cannot really eat the local food again yet. His little sister Mary will also be better cared for in the meantime while being breast fed by another relative, but her immune system will be soon exposed real world realities when she is weaned...

Rich people live, poor people die.

Postscript: Kelvin passed away 27th December 2009.

Typical Weekends

2009-11-10T10:04:00.001+13:00

Elodie and I have been visiting each other in Yaounde and Belo respectively, generally just alternating weekends, and travelling on the night buses to make the most of our limited time together. 'Garanti Express' generally makes it through the seven hour ride without too many breakdowns.

In Belo we generally get in some walking in the amazing hills in the region. Andy, an returning volunteer from Scotland, showed us a great spot last weekend. A hidden waterfall complete with wonderful swimming hole, hanging vines and private rainbow!

In Yaounde the supermarket and fast internet are two major draw cards. I do seem to be jinxed when it comes to visiting the local money zoo, which is just outside the city. On my first attempt the place was closed to visitors as some of the monkey's had escaped and keepers were trying to get them back their enclosures. The second try was scuttled by a policeman trying to find fault with the papers of the vehicle we were using. All turned out ok in the end, no bribe paid, but the visit was cancelled. So maybe third time lucky, fingers crossed.

Ups and Downs

2009-10-30T03:58:00.004+13:00

Working in any organisation entails getting along with many different people, all trying to work towards various common goals. Unfortunately, when working with completely different cultures, sometimes attitudes about what is right and wrong can clash. It seems that I have ended up in the middle of many different issues, many involving different volunteers that have worked in Belo over the last months, and of course the root of all evil - money.

Accorded to the Wikipedia corruption perceptions index New Zealand is ranked number one while Cameroon comes in at place 146. I think if I had really known the implications of this difference in attitudes before I started enquiring about finances, things might have gone a little smoother than they have. All that can really be said is that all I suspected in my first weeks has turned out to be true but worse after my many months. Accounting is poor or non existent, there is no understanding of transparency, and one staff member was simply pocketing money to the detriment of the rest of the organisation.

In the end the final lesson I learned is that if you get off side with someone perhaps its better if they are not the directors son. Blood is thicker than water as they say. So, having now been falsely accused, allowed to continue, fired, and then re-instated, I'm still working away with the Sponsor an Orphan project (whose accounts are completely separate by the way). The umbrella organisation is making some improvements too now, so we'll see what progress the next months bring.

Mt Cameroon

2009-09-30T22:11:00.007+13:00

Elodie and I, along with four other great friends, spent three days climbing Mt Cameroon, which stands well above anything else in west Africa. We first spent a few days on the black sand coast of Limbe, before heading up to Buea, the starting town at about 1000m.

With the required (compulsory) guides and porters, we set off up the steep trail. Day one really did just consist of gaining lots of altitude so as to provide a great view for the night at 'hut 2'. We could see the coast and the lights of Douala (Cameroon's largest city) laid out below.

The next morning dawned fine and clear in spite of this still being the west African 'wet season'. We really did get lucky with fantastic views from the summit at 4095m. It was then a long wander along the massive bulk of the mountain to the far southern end, where we descended past the still warm eruption craters from 1999 and 2000.

The last night was spent tenting at the place called Mann Spring (more of a muddy dribble), before the final days walk back through wonderful rain forest. The most surprising thing about the trip for me was the punga like tree ferns complete with unfurling koru shoots, just like New Zealand?

Motorcycle Exploration

2009-08-24T21:00:00.000+12:00

I rode a motorbike a little as a teenage on a farm north of where I grew up. That little experience seems to have given me enough of the bug to do a bit more while here in Cameroon. Another volunteer Lance, only here for four weeks, turned out to be a motorbike mechanic, which was a huge opportunity for me to learn as much as I could.

One weekend after work we headed off around part of what is known as the Ring Road, which circles the main range of mountains in this north west region, for a complete distance of 367km. Due to the rains and unreliable bikes we just did a small section, but this still included a lot of technical rough riding, a fairly serious river crossing, a fantastic waterfall, and a visit to the local chiefs palace.

On the way we had various fuel leaks, my clutch not working for half a day, one flat tire, and a chain coming off three times. I only crashed once, we only got lost once (ended up in the middle of a farmers field after the river crossing somehow), and only got caught in the rain once (and the dark, while limping back home to Belo).

I've spent quite a bit of my spare time working more on my adopted 'Black Beauty' to see if I can get the reliability up enough to try some more two wheeled exploring during the coming dry season. Keep you posted.

HIV

2009-06-17T05:49:00.003+12:00

Wow, bit of an epic trip to the hospital with a bunch of orphans today. It appeared quite a nice catholic setup with clean-ish buildings and a fairly well run out patient department at least. The doctor was much as could be expected though, fairly grumpy, bossy and unfriendly, but at least apparently very busy.

The real issue was eight year old Stephan's reaction to having some blood taken for a CD4 test (counting white cells). I expected the little guy to be a pro at it, even if nervous. He took my hand on the way to the lab and I chatted away about this and that. Once inside though things turned bad with wailing and crying and squirming.

But that's not so bad. I got Immaculate who was also up for some blood to go first and chatted about it some more with Stephen, and started to think I had cracked it. Then it was back into the hot seat and melt down again. However this time the lab technician said and did things I can't repeat here, I'm still in shock I think. In the heat of the moment I could only really look on at how to take a forced blood sample from a scared little kid.

Stephen (and I now think more importantly me) had some serious down time after that playing with the digital camera and getting something to eat and drink.

Up next though was the positive HIV test result for another orphan in the program. Although I know and have working with many HIV positive people, it was yet another learning curve being presented with the prospect of a young teenage girl being told her life is about to change. There are so many questions that arise, her ability to cope, the caregivers reaction tomorrow, whether she contracted it as a baby or teenager... they are all still running through my head.

Sponsor an Orphan

2009-06-10T05:32:00.000+12:00

The full update, for those interested, is that I am now project supervisor for an orphan sponsorship project based in a little town of Belo, in the middle of the north west region of Cameroon. The project is under an local outfit called Berudep, but is run sort of independently, with the main aim of the game being 100% of sponsors funds reaching their target orphan.

A little website I set up gives you the general outline and also a look at the orphans involved and their wonderful names.... Immaculate, Precious, Elvis, Godwill.... check it out for yourself:

sponsor-an-orphan.blogspot.com

So far my job has involved sorting out the numbers, that is the rather involved and complicated accounting system here, but also getting out and seeing how things are in the homes of some of these kids. There is a wide variety, from Stephen (see the previous post on jiggers), to Joy the little baby, to Immaculate who is twenty and learning to sew.

The traditional set up here is very rural, basically subsistence living, but in general surprisingly poor given the beautiful lush green landscape. Most people live in single room mud huts with a fire place in the middle of the room for cooking, with very basic beds, maybe even with a straw mattress. Having multiple wives is common in the local 'Kom' culture, as is inheriting houses (and wives (and children)) from deceased relatives.

It is the beginning of the rainy season here now, and this peaks around August but last almost half the year as far as I can tell. There is a good sealed road to town which carries on for some distance to the town of Fundong. All other roads are just dirt and so become very interesting when wet. Motorbikes seem to be a very practical way of getting around, but riding on the back of the motorbike taxis scares the living daylights out of me so once I get hold of a helmet I'll see how see how many motorcycle riding skills I've retained from my misspent youth.

(note: I will add some photos when I get a real internet connection)

Jiggers

2009-05-26T20:31:00.002+12:00

The end of my first week and so much is running around inside my head. Much of the time when arriving somewhere is sorting out who is who, what the most important parts of the project are, and what the next most urgent steps are. Looks like some improvements to the accounting system, and some teaching lessons for me might be order. More on the project another day, as I want to share all about ‘jiggers’. These were a bit of a shock to me, but are in fact ‘sand fleas’ which live in dry dusty sandy areas in tropical areas.

According to the internet “tungiasis” is an infestation of the skin by the sand flea. The pregnant female flea burrows under the skin, sucks blood, swells, and releases hundreds of eggs. Apparently “…complications, though rare, may involve ulceration, gangrene, secondary infection, tetanus, and death…”. Well, totally destroyed feet are certainly another complication of at least one of the orphans here! He’s had so many jiggers in his feet, especially around his toes, that there is not a lot of intact skin left to borrow into.

The poor little kid has a list of things going against him, including being ‘like a cat’ according to Hassel, in his dislike of water. We’ll have to figure out some better way of treating jiggers than individual extraction as suggested by most medical texts. I think standing him in a bowl of DDT might have some effect.

As to their history I found it interesting enough to quote here “…originally, the sand flea was only present in Latin American and the Caribbean. It was most likely introduced into Africa in 1873 by the infested crew and sand on board the ship Thomas Mitchell travelling from Brazil to Angola. Within 20 years, the flea spread from Angola to the West Coast of Africa and throughout the sub-Saharan region eventually to East Africa and Madagascar. In 1899, Indian soldiers brought the flea to Bombay, India and Karachi, Pakistan…”. That’s quite some travelling flea.

Will check my feet before returning home, don’t worry!

Introduction to Belo

2009-05-18T19:35:00.001+12:00

I’m now writing from the village of Belo, which sits in amongst the rolling green highlands of inland Cameroon, by the light of a flickering candle, using the last of my laptop battery before it, like me, falls asleep.

There is a small project here working with orphans that I will be helping will for the coming little while. I’m taking over from an English guy, Niall, who has been here seven months and was very happy to get my email saying that I would be happy to try and help out as he leaves in a week.

Today, as an introduction for me, we visited a local school for ‘graduation’ day, with two of the projects sponsored orphans dressed to the nines. It was a great way to get a feel for some of the issues presented with lack of resources and difficult conditions for children with little support, but also a celebration of life with singing and drumming from the school kids.

Express to Gabon

2009-05-14T23:45:00.004+12:00

After four weeks of various attempts, I tried a final time at the immigration office for an extension or conversion of my Cameroon visa but to no avail. It was time to put plan B into action so I grabbed my book and toothbrush and with plenty of time to spare (well, seven hours) before my visa expired, managed to get across the bridge separating Cameroon and Gabon hanging onto the back of a motorbike.

From here things didn't quite go to plan as I had studied well the 300km route from Yaounde south to the boarder, but only guesstimated the rest and messed up by a factor of two. But, having come this far the only option was to sit and wait for the next transport to continue my way 612km to the nearest Cameroon Embassy in Libreville to reapply for another visa. I hoped for something better, but ended up travelling most of it in a 10 seat toyota minivan with 17 people on board, plus luggage, which took the entire night to reach our destination, with multiple comical army checkpoints (about every 40kms!?).

Its hard to keep a straight face when asked for millionth time what your fathers name is, like they are going to catch you out or something? Oh yes, and don't leave home without your yellow fever vaccination certificate if you are heading to this part of the world. Not sure what happens if you don't have it but there was a look of disappointment every time I whisked it out of my top pocket. Assume a 'fine' is often an available solution.

With various papers, photocopies, passport photos, invitation letters and a wad of francs all in hand in large quantities, getting the visa in Libreville was the anticlimax. I'm stamped and sorted for the next six months.

Glanced at the city of Libreville but decided it was a pretty sad case of rubbish, traffic, a US$300 million presidential palace, some fancy hotels and not much else. I could have done with a swim to freshen up but instead in the late afternoon just found the next taxi-minibus-taxi-motorbike-taxi-bus-taxi combination for the 24 hour ride back home to Yaounde. The most memorable sight was the kids of the sides of the road in the more remote areas selling dead mammals of all rarities to passing cars. My driver bought something for his dinner that was perhaps related to an aardvark?

Hash House Harriers

2009-04-23T05:38:00.004+12:00

We have had the luck to come across an excellent group of people all belonging to what I thought was a long past colonial relic, the Hash House Harriers (HHH). It turns out this concept is alive and well around the world, usually in places with large expat communities. Here in Yaounde every Saturday at 3:30pm, a group of around 30 or 40 takes off into the green hills around the city for an hour or so run and then some social drinking afterwards.

Last week was a little damp and therefore muddy, with the allocated trail leading through fields and and up and down muddy slopes. The route for the run is laid out by some volunteer 'hares' in the morning using some standard little markings at junctions. The 'harrier' runners come along and have to search and find the correct route. This means lots of extra running and searching for the fitter and faster members, and a more social slower time for those bringing up the rear.

Turns out that the concept started in Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia in 1938 with the Hash House name coming from the place some of the first runners were living. HHH is apparently often described as "a drinking group with a running problem", and uses as it's anthem "Swing Low, Sweet Chariots".

Welcome to Cameroon

2009-04-17T20:24:00.007+12:00

Elodie and I have landed in Cameroon, with the rolling green hills of the busy little capital city of Yaounde all around us now. It is hot and humid and we have been spending our first forty eight hours here tapping away at a long list of jobs including getting sim cards for our cell phones, sorting out our house, hunting down internet, supermarkets, and money changers.

Elodie will be working on an HIV study based at the main hospital here and concerned with a new 2nd line drug and its effectiveness and side effects. I will be visiting MSF and other organisations in the coming days with a view to a similar position as in the past, non profit logistics or management.

We are living in a basic three story building run by the organisation Elodie is working for, in one of four flats run for expat students and research workers. We are sharing with two others, one French woman studying for a masters, and another Swiss woman undertaking research into condom use and acceptance. The place is a bit rough around the edges, but some TLC and select purchases should make things a little more homely. We are on the top floor and have nice views above the tree tops from our little balcony.

Yaounde is a city of about one million, spread unevenly across an area of tree covered hills, with roads snaking at random in all directions. Situated at an altitude of 750m and about three or four hours drive from the coast, right now is the hottest time of the year, before the rains come and cool things down. There are a number of quite large architecturally striking buildings in the main city centre, all of which are government ministries except for the Hilton Hotel. There is also a more commercial city market a few streets north of here, which seems to be grid locked with traffic during daylight hours.

It will be interesting to see how many friends we will make in the coming days and weeks, and how our experience here compares to Senegal, Sudan, and other African nations. Yaounde is poorer I think that I expected, so it will be interesting to see how things are in other parts of the country with some weekend trips out of town. It will all be a great further learning experience of a country, its people and culture.

Dad's Ironman Weekend

2009-03-09T17:16:00.005+13:00

As a retirement type activity my father Laurie Wesley took up doing triathlons. Some swimming, a little bit of cycling and then a run. The biggest granddaddy of these events is called the Ironman, so what better for a grandfather of 72!?!

The last time I was a spectator for my Dad in the 2006 Ironman the weather decided not to play ball and the swim part of the event was cancelled. Luckily I found myself still in New Zealand this year and so joined mum, my aunt and two sisters, as the cheerleading support crew for the 2009 Taupo Ironman, Dad's eight event.

The swim start certainly is an incredible sight, with the 1400 competitors all in the water for when the cannon goes at 7am. It is like a giant school of fish all thrashing around in the water, arms and white water everywhere. Even a third through the 3.8km swim though the line of swimmers is well spread out into a long even line.

Then it is onto the bike for the 180km out around a course that requires two laps. We managed to time it just right to see Dad off on his first lap before our breakfast and a cup of tea, and then starting his second lap before we had cake and a morning cup of tea, and then when he completed the ride, just after we had finished lunch and a cup of tea (you get the idea). Dad's bike is easily identifiable by the yellow ironman yellow ducky on the handlebars.

Finally the run at the end of the day is a marathon of 42.2km, which of course takes many hours, making the finish after fourteen and a half hours well after dark, with hundreds of supporters in the stands to cheer and wave. It really is a great fun weekend event for a supporter, and I guess maybe one day (when I'm older) I might just have to think about giving it a try as a competitor.

North Face of the Eiger

2008-12-15T00:46:00.004+13:00

My year overseas came to an end with a little trip across to Switzerland for a couple of days skiing under the famous north face of the Eiger. The weather was not the kindest on the first day but with large amounts of snow falling and empty ski fields at half price for the beginning of the season, there was no reason to complain. Rode trains, giant cable cars, chair lifts with plastic covers and even skied off the top of the Schilthorn, the alpine set of an early James Bond film.

Actually since getting back from Lebanon most of my time has been in and around Paris, trying to learn a little of the French language, but with limited success. The weather has progressively moved to the colder end of the scale, with some snow falling the other day right in the middle of the city. While the city is still beautiful I can see the cold combined with short daylight hours makes a European winter quite harsh.

Some other trips around France in the last weeks have taken in the city sights of Strasbourg, towering castles like Kohingensbourg, the only WWII German concentration camp in France, WWI battle fields in the Somme and Verdon, and of course the unusual collection of cathedrals and chateau(s).

Holiday in Beruit

2008-10-06T23:11:00.004+13:00

Beirut is not the normal holiday destination that springs to mind when considering where to take a two week break, but it turns out Lebanon is a pretty cool place. Certainly the people are friendly, completely hospitable, helpful and generous, so much so that hitch hiking is a breeze.

Even though most of the devastation of the 1980's era civil war has now been carefully restored or completely reconstructed, it is hard to shake the standard image of the country as a war zone. Admittedly the Israelis do seem to have a habit of visiting by force in the south from time to time, and Hizbola is the dominant political party in many parts of the country, but it really is very peaceful and safe for travellers now.

Along the coast are crusader castles, inland a huge canyon with cliff side monasteries, then an amazing Roman era temple bigger than anything I've yet seen anywhere else, and there are even ski fields in the mountains, though we were a little early for the cold stuff, simply climbing the mountain for a view instead.

Heading Out

2008-10-01T05:52:00.006+13:00

In a bit of a surprise move it seems that my time in Ethiopia is coming to a sudden end. My visa runs out after three months in the country and cannot be renewed here, so it is a trip back to Paris (that much was planned for some time). However it seems that there are others here that can take over my job so I'm no longer required. Oh well, it was excellent fun while it lasted.

The Wamura staff gave me an excellent send off party the night before I left. It was a great time with the most amazingly colourful farewell gift of a local traditional costume. Of course it had to be put on immediately and some dancing around the fire ensured. It was a good evening and I was glad that the speeches were kept to an absolute minimum.

I'm miss the green hills of Wamura, it is a beautiful area, and I would love to take my mountain bike and return one day. Perhaps some of the local staff will still be living there even after the mission closes at the end of November, although many come from others places nearby like Sodo so it would not be quite the same. I'll miss the rain and the mud and the logistics of making things happen. It was a great three months, and it's over all too quickly.

Cheaters and other Criticism

2008-09-27T19:57:00.009+12:00

Not everything goes smoothly with a humanitarian interventions. Being representations of a rich white western aid organisation certainly means that as an expat here there is a dollar sign halo ever present. This causes conflicts over pay for starters, and then other things like demands for blankets for the watchmen, gumboots of the logistics workers, and endless pens for the nurses. Most of the time it is not a problem but quite often conflicts occur. In Wamura I have been trying to use only contract staff (ongoing employemnt) with no daily workers (paid for the day). This enables trust and loyalty to develop with staff, and avoids some of the walking dollar sign feeling being an expat.

One of the other problems associated with being in control of seemingly unlimited resources while dealing with people with very little, is the 'cheaters'. Woman and babies who try, and succeed, in getting around and through the system twice or more times, picking up drugs and food on each round. While it can be depressing seeing the same person many times, or a tiny little baby being bought back time and again with different mothers, or the same mother with various different children (perhaps even her own), it is completely understandable, and an extension of the normal pattern of people trying to maximise return. We are only here for a short time and the locals feel the need to make the most of it.

Actually I blame the MSF protocol a lot for this situation, it is over complex and unclear even to us expats who have it written down in front of us. For local people with no medical knowlegde the application of an arm band colouring system, then weight and measures, then a 'z-score' off a sheet of paper can only be seen as white man's random magic. Transparency for the local population was not a requirement when coming up with the system and as a result I think cheating is greater here than it could be otherwise.

MSF seems to have quite a number of instituational drawbacks which have become more clear to me now after three missions. One is the highly individualistic application of the MSF standard operating setup, which while highly benifital in conflict situations, is generally unnessary and unhelpful in zero security risk situations like Wamura. This means there is little logisticial adaption of the mission to the envionment, little thought to how a particular requirement could be achevied in a lower impact way than building it from sratch as is more usually required. There are resulting negative impacts on the commnity, both evironmentally and socially.

The other critisim I can easily point to is the lack of planning for closing a mission. It would seem to me that the main decisions for closing a mission are left to upper coordination sides of the organisaton, and the local team and logistics just bumble along behind. Even in the Wamura situation it was at the beginning meant to be a three month program, yet after three months nobody wants to think about closing, so instead of even a formal decision to extend, the program just keeps going and going. This result is uncertainly in the staff, and poor decisions with respect to logistics stocks and construction work.

Having a plan, and changing it if needed is fair superior to not having any plan at all.

The Big SFC Week

2008-09-09T16:28:00.002+12:00

One part of the mission we have been preparing for, and now running, is the big SFC (supplementary feeding centre) program. Effectively this involves handing out a months worth of family ration to everyone within a certain criteria. One family gets 25kg of famix, five one litre bottles of oil and five very large pieces of soap. We were expecting about 200 people at each of the five locations we already run OTP's and so I had stockpiled literally tons of food and oil in the preceding week.

The big week certainly was an eye opening to behold. The whole team arrived back from each location in quite an exhausted state, having screened hundreds of mothers and children, thousands over the course of the week. Everyone ending up longing for Saturday and the end of the week. Screening involves a MUAC check and then, for some, a weight and height measure as well. Once accepted in the program, but before getting food, there is the paracheck to screen for malaria, a visit to the doctor and then to the pharmacy for a measles vaccination and others treatments as required. Finally it is around the corner to the food store.

One of the questions we were always asking ourselves was how a mother, usually malnourished herself, was expected to carry all this food and a child back home. In practice however they didn't seem to blink an eye. The baby was strapped onto the back, the bags of soap and oil carried in either hand, and the only assistance required was to get the 25kg bag of famix balanced on top of their heads. Off they would go up the hills back home, however many hours, carrying more than I can for a mountaineering trip back home with a fully padded ergonomic backpack.

At the end of the week, for a thank you to the staff, there was a BBQ organised at the local staff house. We wandered across in the evening, a fire was lit and we had bought a goat earlier in the day. It was a fantastic evening with good food and plenty of food and drink.

The really funny thing though was the dancing. Even in this mainly Ethiopian Christian culture, it seems that segregation is fully in force, guys and gals do not dance together. What this means in practice of course is that guys dance together and think nothing of it. For poor Australasian males like Matt and I it was quite something to try and get our heads around. Leslie found it all very funny, and we certainly saw fantastically funny dance moves from our staff that we never expected in the light of day.

Small Team, Big Team, Small Team

2008-08-21T16:04:00.002+12:00

The mission here consists of three sets of staff. There are the expats; running around organising things. There are the inpats; Ethiopian medical staff and translators who have been recruited to help and moved here from other parts of the country, we have about ten here now. And then there are the local local staff from Wamura; the guards and cooks and cleaners; the numbers keep changing but I think we've employed about 60 now.

Our expat team started very small in numbers of expats, Florence the nurse, Cameron the doctor, and me for the logistics. We swelled in number over the next weeks with the arrival of Damien, an experienced nutritional nurse, another US nurse Leslie, an Australian doctor Matt, and then two further French doctors Claude and Agnes, and two French logisticians, Anne Marie and Abdel. With visiting coordination people from Sodo and Paris, the food bill certainly shot up, along with the queue for shower (don't think hot steamy room, more bucket of cold water as fast as possible).

Then as fast as we grew, we shank. Suddenly there was a new project to be opened to the east of Sodo, which drew off Damien, Claude and Florence, then the Gocho project required more logistic help so Anne Marie and Abdel were reassigned there. Now it is back to just four of us expats, which suits me fine, all are excellent easy going people. It certainly makes a big difference having people around you get along with. We have only limited email via satellite phone, one tap for water up behind the health centre, electricity via a generator for a few hours a night, no TV or radio, and a diet consisting currently of basically egg and bread.

Shocks to the System

2008-08-18T21:15:00.004+12:00

Every now and then something just corners you out of the blue. For me here it was a normal midweek afternoon soon after I arrived. I was alone at our base at the Wamura health centre, busy organising things, with the medical team all off in an outlying village doing their screening, admission and treatment program. The first of the 10 truck convoys had arrived, been unloaded and left the evening before, which I guess would have been talk of town and a front page advertisement for our program. I noticed more mothers and babies hanging around mid morning than usual. By midday when I walked out of the office, I was greeted with fifty or sixty children, with fifty or sixty mothers eyes on me.

Malnutrition here is surprising in that it is not immediately apparent. The fields and hills are green and beautiful, and people generally look poor, but well and happy. So much so that up to this point the whole project had a surreal feel for me. Working my way around the crowd that had gathered outside that day though was a shock to the system. All fitted the magazine article photo stereotype of small, weak, helpless, malnourished children. I couldn't bring myself to send them all off and so moved around everyone myself separating out the red MUAC kids (a quick measure of the mean upper arm circumference that indicates severe malnutrition), and sending the others back home to return on our organised clinic date in a few days time.

I also got a stock of drink and food ready for the medical team for when they returned tired and exhausted from their day out, and the patient plumpynut treatment boxes all at the ready for distribution. Luckily when Florence, Cameron, Damien arrived back they were more than up to the task, and like a well oiled machine we together screened, admitted into the program and distributed treatment for 47 patients that evening before night fell.

It felt good to be able to see and touch and talk and smile with little ones who had previously been only existed as numbers on my excel food spreadsheet.

The more recent eye opening moments have all involved burns. With little medical care available even the most basic of burns can be very serious. Here in the last three days I seen the horrific result of burns to a child's arm which had swelled and become infected. Then at Lasho a two month old baby with an amazing burn to whole side of her little scalp. It had occurred several weeks before and she was doing well. It was amazing that she had survived such an injury. I can only hope that the last of my encounters of the week does as well, a poor kid with the exact same injury, the distort mother seeking me out for help, the smell of burnt skin and hair filling my little logistics office. Perhaps she had been laid too close to the fire, I'll never know.

Rain and Mud

2008-08-17T23:43:00.006+12:00

It's the wet season here in Ethiopia and the rain comes and goes each day with alarming regularity. Even if the morning dawns fine and still, by the afternoon the heavy rain can make doing anything pretty much impossible. Still, it certainly give me time to catch up on the office administration. For a couple of mornings we awoke to sound of rain and collectively all rolled over and went back to sleep.

The problem is not so much getting wet, or even getting covered in mud, it is the paralysing effect the rain has on the roads. The last sealed road is many hours travel away. Around here all roads are carved out of the hills sides and consist either of bone jarring rock, or raw clay. In dry conditions the clay surface is fine, hard and fast travel. When wet though, even with a light shower, the surface becomes slick with a film of wet clay. On an attempted trip to the next town of Lasho the four wheel drive vehicle I was in almost made the top of a small rise before the wheels lost traction. The driver Marsha hit the brakes but even with all four wheels locked up we gently slid forty meters back down the hill, turning 180 degrees in the progress. It was clearly a hint from the car and road in unison to give up and head back home.

A nutrition project like this relies on a large amount of supplies being available for the treatment and feeding programs. Usually 25 or 50 ton trucks roll up loaded to the hilt and unload into massive warehouse tents. Here though only little Isuzu trucks carrying three and half ton are able to make the trip, and even then only with difficulty. To help deal with the mud and hills and breakdowns there are twenty trucks traveling in two convoys of ten, all trying to get supplies through to us here in Wamura, and to the sister project over the hill in Gocho. Alas, with limited success.

Apart from the fact that convoys only seem to arrive on Sundays, destroying any chance of a day off, they are also destroying the road. I helped try to organise a road repair gang on the particular section of road I call the Lasho slide, but after a day in the mist and rain at 2,500m, all we achieved was six trucks pushed and pulled by 50 people to the top of the hill and further destruction of the road.

If the rain continues we will be cut off completely, though two and half tons of famix have arrived by a string of 30 donkeys. Where there's a will there's a way!

Nutritional Emergency

2008-08-13T01:30:00.003+12:00

When I first heard of the mission here and the phrase 'nutritional emergency', I cynically thought it another phrase like IDP (internally displaced person) which has largely replaced 'refugee'. An IDP is a refugee in in their own country, whereas a 'real' refugee finds themselves displaced into another country. Either way they are refugees to the layperson. So a nutritional emergency must be a famine I thought, not enough to eat, so supply some food, then head for home for a spa.

It turns out though that it is not quite that simple. Here in this south western mountain area of the country the fields are full of crops and things appear fertile and productive. But unfortunately the subsistence living in the area is always so close to the edge that even a small loss of harvest due to too little rain, or too much rain will result in a small shortage of food. Not really noticeable in the general population, but first detected by surveying the under five year old children.

With a simple arm band measuring tape called a MUAC (mean upper arm circumference) it is possible to screen lots of children in a day and separate out the really sick ones (reds), the undernourished (orange), the underweight (yellow) and the ok (green). Generally the reds need to be admitted into a clinic for special care (called the stabilisation centre), the orange into a weekly feeding program, and the others have to keep fending for themselves. Its actually a little more complex as actual admission also counts on a weight and height measure, and also the presence of oedema, which is the build up of fluid causing a type of swelling, but you get the idea.

Here then there is a large number of red and oranges, generally thought to be due to some sort of crop failure this year. Not a famine, but certainly some nutritional deficiency, which in time could turn into an emergency. So we riding in here on white horses, well, white land cruisers, to set up a stabilisation centre (SC) and feeding program (OTP – outpatient treatment program). After a week here we now have the land area sorted out for the SC and some buildings under repair and construction, a place to stay sorted out behind the health centre in a half finished building, and the OTP program under way.

Another interesting thing about severe malnutrition is that simply feeding the kids up with some food does not actually have much of an effect. The human body needs certain trace elements, vitamins and minerals that keep everything functionally correctly. If these run out, or simply run low, then the internal organs all start shutting down and malfunctioning. A revolution in the treatment came therefore with the invention of RTU (ready to use) therapeutic foods containing not only lots of calories, but also a mix of all the necessary vitamins and minerals for good health. They don't need cooking, have a very long shelf life, and can be transported and distributed easily.

The number one product is called plumpynut and comes is a little red and silver foil 100g packet. I've actually got several thousand of them sitting in a tent behind me now. It tastes like peanut butter mixed with milk powder and the kids chow down on it (so will I if I get hungry). There is also F100, which is milk powder with additives for infants that can't digest plumpynut yet, and F75 if even that is too much. Then there is also famix (also called unimix or CSB), which is a special mix of grains, vitamins, soy and other goodies. It is supplied as a 5kg ration along with vegetable oil to the family of malnourished children so that don't eat the plumpynut.

Well, that's the background. Now the trick is just to get all this fancy food, along with some drugs for all the common childhood aliments, in very large quantities (think tons), along with the trained staff to distribute it, to several outlying villages, all around here at about 2000m, with washed out bridges, rough muddy roads, and no fuel.

I think this calls for a second cup of tea...

The Green Mountains of Ethiopia

2008-07-31T16:46:00.003+12:00

So, three different jobs in three days, now I really don't know if I have been promoted or demoted! I awoke in the morning and was told that it had been decided, sometime after I went to bed, to open a new field project in a place called Wamura. A doctor, nurse and myself for logistics would leave immediately. I grabbed my small bag, and then starting grabbing things from the store that I knew would be useful for a setup, some blankets, a satellite phone and computer, a water filter.

Then it was into the four wheel drive and onto the road into the mountains. The hills around here certainly are amazing and really remind me of Nepal, with little ridge line villages with spectacular views off each side down into the green valleys below. The roads wind there way up and down, with alternating rough rocky sections on the ridges, and soft clay and mud in depressions, or where waterways cross the road.

On arrival we were hosted in the local health centre by the very helpful head nurse Abiyot. As it turns out there is a half finished building that we can use for the project here and really it just needs some windows to be usable. Tomorrow there will be meetings with the local leaders, and a tour of town to select a site for the program clinic, the stores, and further houses for accommodation of relocated local staff. It will be interesting to see where we can possibly pitch several large tents, as there doesn't seem to be any flat land that I can see?

Changing Plans

2008-07-24T15:56:00.002+12:00

Well, one minute I planning out my three month stint as Supply Logisitian in the wet sprawling capital of Ethiopia, next minute I am much closer to the field in a place called Sodo, which is well to the south of the country on the foothills of green mountains. I've been so surprised at how beautiful Ethiopia is, and how the wrong the image I have fixed still in my subconscious is. All around are ploughed fields full of crops, it rains every day, and I wish I had my gumboots.

Sodo is the main coordination for the project but there is still a lot of setup and organisation to be undertaken. I seem to be just keeping ahead of a wave of materials coming from Addis. It is great to be able to see the special vitamin enriched grain called Famix being prepared in the factory, buying 50 tons, sending it off to Sodo, only to be standing there when it arrives with a half finished store! Maybe next I'll see it dished out in the field.

It continues to rain and some of the expats in Gocho, the real field mission in the mountains to the west, have been cut off due to poor roads. It seems I was borrowed from Addis for a couple of days, but now might be the supply log here? Who knows, things keep changing fast here. It is certainly is exciting being part of an emergency mission where you really are playing catch up on the plans every minute of the day.

Back on the Job with MSF

2008-07-20T04:52:00.003+12:00

One minute I was back in Paris enjoying Don Carlo at the grand opera theatre, the next minute I'm on a plane to Ethiopia of all places. On the flight down images from years ago fill my mind; Bob Geldoff, Live AID, staving African children and endless repeats of ''Do they know it's Christmas time at all...?''.

It looks like my role will be in Addis Ababa, the capital city, supporting a field operation in the south west of the country, which is an emergency nutritional crisis intervention. The rains failed and some significant numbers of malnourished children were identified by an exploratory MSF team last month. Certainly not a famine, but human suffering that required a response.

I've spent a week helping set up house and office, arguing with customs officials for the release of the international logistic equipment, therapeutic food, and medical drugs the mission requires, and trying to get an idea of the needs of the field team. Busy time and not a minute for anything else, my bag sits in the corner of my room almost untouched.

Ethiopia is an extremely bureaucratic country with a centrally controlled government system inherited after the end of it's communist phase. Lada taxis still fill the streets, the power is somewhat erratic, and I haven't had a chance to see much of the rest of the sprawling city. But it is cold and wet and Addis is located at a surprisingly high altitude of 2300m. Maybe there'll be something around here to climb?

Pyrenees

2008-06-09T21:43:00.005+12:00

Once in Spain I met up with a good friend Lisa for a one week tour of the Pyrenees. We started in Barcelona and worked our way westward. On the way we discovered the (for us) unheard of country, Andorra. Quite amazing to randomly ‘discover’ a country in the middle of Europe? Guess that there might be a few more surprises lurking around the place.

We walked and explored and even climbed in the soft slushy spring snow. Ended up at the top of a wonderful hill and look forward to returning for more peak bagging one day. The whole mountain range from coast to coast looks like it is filled with all sorts of interesting corners, peaks, huts and viewpoints. It is very much like the NZ alps, with mountains about the same size, trails, and (in June) not many people at all.

Heading now for a weekend in Paris and then back down to Bordeaux for an MSF logistics training course.

Two Worlds Apart

2008-06-06T06:24:00.006+12:00

The Mediterranean Sea separates Europe from Africa, with the closest point being between the two sides of the Straights of Gibraltar. On one side to the north are the very rich, developed nations of the west, with their huge economic and military power. On the other side to the south, separated by only a matter of kilometres lies Africa, with its poverty, underdevelopment, war, famine and disease.

While in other places it is possible to be struck by the culture shock of flying from a modern built up city such as Paris, to the simple depths of despair in a dessert town of Darfur over the course of a few days, here is the place where the difference between worlds is simply a two hour boat ride.

In a world of plenty it would seem to me that the current flow of wealth from rich to poor, whether looked at on the neighbourhood scale, a local regional setting, within nation states, between countries, or across civilisations, is so small as to be completely discountable in the greater transactions of day to day life. It is a sad failure of the natural human trading and capitalist systems that there is no innate pressure which encourages anyone, myself, my friends, my country or fellow westerners, to share the huge excess riches we have with those who have nothing, and so continue to suffer every day.

The two most clearly visible sides of the coin physically separated by only a stretch of water, but culturally and economically separated by the impervious barrier of self interest.

Jebal Tubkal

2008-05-24T23:00:00.004+12:00

It seems to me that no matter how badly prepared and under equipped you think you are, when it comes to the highest or most well known mountains of the world, there are always many people less prepared than yourself. So it was with Jebal Tubkal, the highest hill in the High Atlas Range. I turned up with a route description, summer sleeping bag, lightweight boots and only some idea what to expect. Others that I met had no map at all, no sleeping bag, no raincoat, and little more than tevas for there feet!

Everyone seemed to make it to the top regardless (4000m odd), with great weather, only a little snow, and some great views in spite of a little heat haze. There ceratainly was quite a crowd in all, with a number of quite large guided groups, a whole host of guided couples, and then the odd ball do-it-your-self crew, me included. For a general little movie view from the top check out www.youtube.com/richardwesley, otherwise just stick with the photo, which is complete with my american friend modelling the local fashion straight out of Star Wars.

While the villages were very pretty, clinging to the hillsides with terraces of wheat and rice, and the main river valleys were green with plentiful water, the main range of the Atlas was dry and rocky. An easy wander in summer, but it would make for an adventurous winter expedition.

Morroco

2008-05-21T04:05:00.006+12:00

Mauritania gives way to the north to the Western Sahara according to many older map and atlases, however in practice, Morocco starts straight away over the boarder. The old Western Sahara 'country' was occupied in the 1970’s. The reason, national resources, as apart from iron and phosphate deposits, it is an endless dessert and barren empty coastline. Along that coast though runs a single solitary high quality highway, linked a few widely spaced towns long its 1000km old length. Not much to see , but certainly an easy high speed way northwards.

Arriving in Morocco was a great shock to the system with so many tourists even in this the 'off season'. The wide open streets of the new city contrasted with the narrow winding allies of the old walled city. The souks and markets were indeed a sight to behold, though the star of the show was certainly the central square at dusk. Food stands full of local dishes, fruit stands offering fresh drinks, performers and story tellers with crowds of locals in attendance.

Now to find a map and some transport into my first real African mountain range…

Good Men, Bad Men

2008-05-17T08:24:00.005+12:00

There are many poeple you meet along the way when travelling, some good, some bad. Often you don't really know until after you have left them far behind.

Some of the really great people have I meet in the last few days were the other locals making their way around Maurtiania on the various forms of transport: pickups (on the back with the goats), shared taxis (think four in the back seat), an iron ore train (travel on top for free). I learnt a few things along the way, like you need your Beduin head scarfe to keep out the dust and sand, don't go off the road because of landmines, and always take twice the water you think you'll every drink and then some more.

Some of the not so nice people were also keen to help, but for a price. The boarder patrol guys were particularly unsettling, along with the taxi drivers when they know your options are very limited.

The scenery is amazing, soring cliffs on the road to the once thriving ancient city of Chengetti, the sweeping dunes of the Sahara just outside town, the rich green of the oasis palm trees contrasted with the red of the dessert sand.

Dakar Farewell

2008-05-17T08:16:00.005+12:00

My time is up for Dakar and my last weekend was an excellent send off. Elodie has had some family relations living here as well that we have visited several times. They won a plane flight in a raffle and wondered if we would like to come along as well, and of course the one hour flight over the Dakar peninsular was spectacular. The next day we also had a second visit together to the island of Goree which is undoubtedly the jewel of Senegal, its just so peaceful and beautiful. Recommended to anyone visited western Africa.

My language skills have not really improved with my weeks trying to learn French here, and I wish that I had bought both a bike and a kayak when I first got here, but otherwise I think my time here has been a good experience. The frustration of not being fully occupied, even with the little accounting job and host of other interests which I kept up with, was something I've found hard though and will be working to avoid in the future.

The Gambia

2008-05-09T20:56:00.003+12:00

With the successful completion of my job, along with the end of my french classes, I found myself with some time on my hands again. So the last week has been a time of exploring the southern Senegal region of Casamance, and the tiny African state of Gambia. I sailed down overnight on a large ferry, and worked my way back north overland.

The landscape is certainly a lot greener than in the north with lots of trees and gardens, and great long beaches. These usually pull the tourists, but I seem to hit the low of the low season and the all the atlantic resorts spots were deserted. So I hung out with the wildlife instead, the crocodile pool at Bakau, and a forest reserve teeming with monkeys.

I found the Gambia an intriguing place. It was one of the longest uninterrupted democracies on the continent until a coup in 1994 placed in power a man who is still at the top. The unusual thing is that he seems to have been able to win two organised elections since, along with convincing the population he can cure AIDs?

This is a good thing as the other unusual aspect of the country is the prevalence of white middle aged woman on holiday with local handsome muscled young black men. Turns out that this reverse sex tourism is very popular here and has woman returning year after year.

Does my arse look small in this...

2008-04-29T20:43:00.005+12:00

Are you worried that you are losing your curves? Put on your favourite jeans on a Saturday night out on the town only to find them a bit baggy? Have had your significant other mutter something about eating a little more to fill out a bit?

Maybe what you need is padded underwear.

Now available from all good outdoor crazy markets in the backstreets of Dakar, just look alongside the wigs, printed t-shirts with spelling mistakes, extremely low lifespan jandals, and mass produced other junk.

Apart from this important discovery the other happenings of the month included birthdays for both Elodie and myself and a bit of kayaking. Elodie organised me a wonderful party with a great lot of people around for dinner. This also required a day in front of the oven and resulted in enough food for thousands. Most excellent to have good leftovers for the rest of the week. Elodie had a surprise party eight days later, held on the other side of town. This resulted in some minor problems trying to find the venue in the sprawling suburbs of Dakar and keep the secret all at the same time.

I couple of weeks prior I finally got out on the water for some sea kayaking to the two nearby offshore islands. To the west is the island of Goree with its slave trading history and thriving tourist industry. I just did a lap of the island to enjoy the coastal view and crystal clear water. It was then off to the island to the west called Madeline, a wonderfully refreshing nature reserve with a tricky little surf landing, and then just the peace and quiet of a sunny afternoon.

Micro Credit

2008-03-27T05:28:00.004+13:00

I've been working for the last few weeks, and will be for the coming months, for a little organisation called 'Anti Poverty Initiative' (API) which provides micro credit for woman in Dakar. It was started by an American ex Methodist missionary who has been living in Dakar for many years. They needed help with setting up a new computer accounting system and various other tasks and so I am getting some good experience in the field of micro credit.

Micro credit is simply loaning small amounts of money to people with no security, effectively filling the gap below which normal banks and financial institutions operate. It came to major prominence recently when Muhammad Yunus, who funded the Grameen Bank in Bangadish, was awarded the 2006 Nobel Peace Prize. The loan money enables women, who are more trustworthy with repayment and usually provide benefits for the whole family, to start and run small businesses.

API has a model which sets up groups of 25 women together and gives them the responsibility of loan repayment as a group. This helps reduce the workload of the office and further spread the risk of non repayment. Some training and instruction is given when women first start with API and a first small starter loan is used to try and ensure small steps in the learning curve.

I'll certainly be interested to learn more of the real life application of this now trendy economic theory.

In other Senegal industry news we visited at the weekend a salt mining region 50km west of Dakar. It was great to see first hand the ladling of the salt directly from the bottom of the small lake, then the transport to shore, bagging and loading onto trucks for transport. I still can't quite figure out why the operation has not been mechanised, but at least the manual labour provides some locals with work and seems to minimise the environmental impact.

OIC in Town

2008-03-18T06:08:00.007+13:00

During the past week the city of Dakar has been hosting a meeting of the Organisation of the Islamic Conference (OIC). This has resulted in many cancellations, reorganisation of traffic, and general disruption to the city, as the leaders of 56 nations all arrived for the gathering. It turns out that many of the major infrastructure projects around Dakar were begun in expectation of this event, but unfortunately only a handful of them seem to have been completed. On the positive side the western coastal road was finished in the nick of time, on the negative side two large hotels are still only shells under construction. To cover the resulting shortage of accommodation a huge Italian cruise ship appeared at the port, appearing to outdo all the shore based hotels.

I heard via some friends here that the main two topics discussed at the meeting were first the lack of progress with the implementation of an investment fund for transfer of wealth from northern middle east members to southern African states. Second was the "islamaphobia" sweeping the world and what could be done to improve the image of Islam. I thought it was excellent that such a difficult theme was on the table for discussion, rather than being ignored or simply not even identified.

Another amusing observation was clear during the 'Science and Technology' expo set up in the middle of the city. The stalls with the largest (and only) crowds of interested locals and visitors were the 'traditional' medicine, healing and improvement stands.

We though took the opportunity of a national OIC holiday on Thursday to get in an afternoon scuba dive on ship wreck off the nearby idyllic island of Goree. Then the weekend was spent exploring the old French capital of St Louis in the north of Senegal, with its collection of old buildings and unusual location on an island in the middle of a large river. An interesting town though not quite as stunning as the description in the Lonely Planet paints.

Local Wildlife

2008-03-08T05:37:00.007+13:00

The beaches of Senegal stretch to the south of Dakar and vary from highly developed tourist resorts to small little fishing villages. We have been spending the last few weekends exploring a few of them and the surrounding countryside. The heat of the sun in the middle of the day is so great that for me the only too options are hiding in the shade or complete immersion in the sea.

A nearby park known as Bandia Reserve provided some great photo opportunities with many large animals including rhino, giraffe, and antelope. Most of them are actually from South Africa, and the park is so small it could be called a very large zoo, but certainly well worth a visit if wanting to see such large beasts up close and in the open. We even managed to do it very cheaply by meeting some other helpful French woman who were able to include us in their hired car for the morning.

While out and about we have also met a host of great people, including fellow Dakar residents and travellers on an overland trip from the Spain all the way down through west Africa. The effort getting to some of these locations on the local buses is also an education, with regular stops and many enthusiastic salespeople trying to extract money from you!

Bugger

2008-02-19T08:20:00.002+13:00

Woops, just got pick pocketed in town and so am feeling stupid, angry, amused and sad all at the same time. Its my first time and just a moments thoughtlessness was all it took. I’ve had the friendly lads around in town a few times and keep my hands on my wallet and cell phone.

Tonight through we were walking between two nightclubs with friends up ahead, other friends dropping behind, lots happening, and my right hand holding onto Elodie just in front of me. Suddenly a very friendly chap is on my right, my hand goes to my phone in one pocket instinctively. There are people all around, pushing, shoving, then we are through it all. 100m on I let go of Elodie’s hand and instantly realise my wallet is gone from my other side pocket.

I feel stupid as the rouse was so obvious, angry because of the theft of my little wallet and credit card, amused as they did it well (and had read all about it in the guidebook), and sad as I will certainly have my guard up even more against the ‘friendly’ locals and maybe will be accidently harsh on some ‘real’ hospitality.

Monkeys as Neighours

2008-02-17T00:22:00.004+13:00

We have some monkeys as neighbours it turns out in a little building below where we are living. They are used for medical research, and it’s certainly the closest I’ve been to this field of science. It certainly leaves me feeling very uneasy as I am not at all sure the standards of care insisted upon back in France with the institute have quite made it down to Senegal. The cages are small and the monkeys seem to act pretty deranged.

I’m sure it is a small price to pay for the advance of vaccines and safe treatments, but sad and unsettling when in your own backyard.

Africa Again

2008-02-13T07:02:00.002+13:00

I am now in Dakar, the capital of Senegal, in west africa. We arrived here last a week ago and have had fun exploring and settling in. Elodie is working with the Institute Pasteur on a hepatitis B research program (involving the correlation of results for vibroscans and liver biopisis in black people). Her employers have provided a fantastic apartment, three levels up, looking out at the sea, located on the south western tip of the Dakar peninsula, about 20mins walk from the centre of town.

It’s been hard to get a clear impression of Dakar, but few thoughts that have hit me are the busy broken up streets and the very nice temperature range. Cars and buses fly up and down the roads, people parked up everywhere on the footpaths, black and yellow taxis drive past tooting at you every minute, there are broken pavements and potholes. It certainly has the African flavor when it comes to public service maintenance. However the weather is very mild, getting up to maybe 25 during the day and dropping down to 18 perhaps at night. No rain, though it is windy, nothing between us and the Atlantic. Its winter here and it will slowly get warmer until we leave in May.

I am here trying to learn some French, and have had my first few lessons at the French Institute. However it is confusing listening to the locals, as some speak French and some speak the local language of Waloof, and accorded to Elodie many speak both at the same time. I am finding French comprehension very difficult but we’ll see how it goes after a few weeks.

I’ve been thinking of things to do with my time off. There are two islands off the coast that I have been scheming on visiting by kayak if I can just get hold of one from one of the flash hotels, some great diving reported off the coast further north for when I’m feeling rich, some waves coming into the beaches that could be fun if I can get a board and figure out the rips and tides, and maybe there’ll some sight seeing trips further afield when the novelty of the city wears off.

Paris Wanderings

2008-02-01T03:09:00.000+13:00

Another few weeks based with Elodie in Paris before heading to Africa left me with some time to do the things that didn’t quite make the A-list the first time around. Apart from the usual spots of Paris that deserved a second look, I also got to the other suburbs for a look.

Fontainebleau is world famous for its bouldering and I spent two days exploring not only the rock, but also the forest and nearby chateau. It was actually a bit cold to really ‘hang out’, but at least now I know the location and setup so as to return with shoes and chalk bag at the ready in the middle of summer. The rock is great and the place covers a huge area.

I’m a bit of an historic plane follower as well, and so I managed to track down some interesting little aircraft museums in the surroundings of Paris. The best day was undoubtedly getting a good look at an Avro Lancaster aircraft being slowly restored by a group very similar to where I used to volunteer in NZ. They still have a huge job ahead (even 20 years since they started) with the large four engined WWII bomber reduced to many parts, but the cockpit was very complete, along with rear fuselage and tail fins.

Finally I also made use of the cold and got down to the alps to go skiing and snow shoeing with my good friend Fiona who lives in Geneva. The ski fields were amazing with wide open pistes, and a huge range of terrain to choose from. I managed to scare myself silly going to the top of one of the lifts. Big drops off in every direction suddenly made the sign at the bottom make more sense… “This is not a ski run… it is neither tracked nor patrolled… be accompanied by an experienced mountaineer or a guide”. I got down ok and back onto the groomed slopes but I have new found respect for the Banff Film Festival skiers! A more relaxed time was spent wandering up to a real Swiss mountain hut for the night with my first experience of snow shoes.

Florence for New Years

2008-01-24T08:42:00.000+13:00

Wow, what a new years eve. Fireworks which sounded like a civil war had broken out, loud explosions rocking the night at regular intervals. Thousands of people with bottles of champagne, though come the magical witching hour it appeared to me not a lot was consumed, rather it was sprayed into the air, and onto whoever was in range, resulting in the feel it had been raining even though the sky was clear. Then came the very surprised, but apparently quite usual ritual of smashing the now empty bottles onto the nearest street. Large piles of broken glass piled up in the main square, just a few meters from the replica David.

In the morning, nothing. Just the usual early morning tourists starting to form lines into the usual tourist sights. The street cleaners must all be ready for when the last early morning reveler finally gives up for the night, and then work fast and hard clearing the mess of glass and fireworks. Impressive.

We visited many of the great sights of Florence and the surroundings, and the highlights certainly must include the wonderful sculptures, and of course the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I was impressed by just how far over it is, and how long it has been that way.

Christmas in Paris

2007-12-27T09:33:00.000+13:00

Christmas Eve this year was certainly a little different to the usual, being spent at Notre Dame cathedral in Paris. It was a wonderful evening, cold, but clear and still. Being at one of the most famous churches in the world seemed like an excellent way to see in Christmas Day. The exterior was well lit with beautiful lighting, and the interior was filled with fantastic choir singing and all the pomp and ceremony of a catholic service.

I was surprised by Elodie’s very negative reaction to her first ever church sermon which, being in French, I didn’t get a word of. Apparently plenty of sin and damnation, with a sprinkling of hell fire and repentance. Certainly no majority of time spent on love for one another, personal self sacrifice, or even world peace. Pity really.

Bob the Builder

2007-12-18T02:46:00.000+13:00

Sawing up bits of wood and banging in nails has always been part of the male physic, and so when offered the chance to try my hand at building a shed for some friends I jumped at the opportunity. Rosie and Steve have recently moved down to Te Anau and purchased a piece of land at Patience Bay. It is a great spot with spectacular views of the lake, the Murchison and Kepler mountains and of course the snow covered Darrens. Along with cutting of weeds, planting of natives, and clearing of waterways, building a shed on the section was on the to do list. The actual design was a moving target, with about the only fixed requirement being 10 square meters to avoid a building consent.

I enjoyed surfing the web, making various sketches on the backs of envelopes, and visiting a nearby building site to sort out how to put it all together. With no power on site we only had a hand saw and hammer, along with a tape measure and level to keep us going in the right direction.

Ash turned up for a few days to help which really put the project into fast forward and so after 10 days we had a floor, four walls and a few roof rafters. Rosie and Steve now hope to have some cladding (coloursteel) on the walls come the new year. My final couple of days staying down there were spent on the water with an amazing day fishing up north arm, and then a mind blowing dive trip to Milford Sound, crystal clear water, cliffs dropping into the deep, crayfish and back coral!

Tour de Homeland

2007-12-18T02:25:00.000+13:00

Elodie, my french friend from Paris came to check out New Zealand for three weeks, and so a whirlwind tour of the country was in order. We did pretty well I think getting in some great sights and scenery from both the north and south islands.

The highlights included visiting Auckland Museum for some background, then Mt Ruapehu for some snow, checking out the geothermal fields of Rotorua, swimming at the beach and cycling the port hills of Christchurch, staying the night at Aspiring Hut in the Matukituki Valley, nordic skiing at the snow farm, getting extremely wind blown on the three day Kepler Track, and seeing the Darrens and Milford Sound in spectacular sunshine.

I think then that we did pretty well for the short amount of time available, and the cheap hire car certainly made a huge difference in how much we could squeeze in. It was a great learning experience for me seeing NZ more from the eyes of a tourist, dropping into information centers and figuring out how much some of the attractions cost!

Back in New Zealand

2007-10-31T13:35:00.000+13:00

I dropped back home in the middle of September to visit friends and family. I started in Auckland with some time with my sisters Judith and Kay, and my parents Laurie and Barbara (actually dad got back from Chile a little later in the story).

London Calling

2007-09-03T23:28:00.001+12:00

I briefly passed through London to pick up my flight back down under and was lucky to catch up with a number of friends from school and work who are based over here.

As an added bonus Nelson Mandela was in town to attend the unveiling and dedication of a stature in parliament square alongside Churchill and Roosevelt. It was a great little event with the mayor Ken Livingston and Prime Minister Gordon Brown also along for the photo opportunity. Mandela was strong in voice but very frail in body, so I was glad to have got my chance to lay eyes on a legend.

Castles and Chateaux

2007-09-03T23:25:00.000+12:00

France is a wonderfully beautiful country with many different landscapes and a seemingly endless supply of picturesque tilled villages and grand chateaux and castles. I was very lucky to visit so many different fantastic places in a short time.

Some of my favorites included the grand bulk of Chambord with its double helix central staircase, the burial site of Leonardo De Vinci, and the ruins lit by the evening light of one of King Richard’s castles, my childhood hero, and of course the legendary San Michael perched on its rocky outcrop surrounded by the sea on all sides.

Circuit of the Continent

2007-09-03T23:22:00.000+12:00

With a bike at my side I managed to get in some of the sights and sounds of a few of the big cities of Euorpe. First up was Munich which was surprisingly enjoyable with a wonderful pedestrian centre, and plenty of museums and things to see and do. I wished I’d allowed more time for exploring the mountains and valleys of the Barvian Alps though, which looked like an excellent playground.

It was then onto Prague with its fascinating post soviet history as well as castles, palaces, towers and of course the wonderful medieval Charles Bridge. It did however also have cobble stones on the streets, which look wonderful and lend great character to a city, but are hell to try and ride a bike on!

Finally Berlin showed just how much has changed since the famous dividing wall came down. I really expected more to remain of such an amazing and historic structure, and I guess I also expected more surviving grand WWII era architecture, but alas, in both cases the symbols of evil and repression were destroyed and removed the minute the opportunity came to do so. Can’t blame people really but I do think that they have the wrong decision to demolish even the iconic 1960’s east german people’s palace as well to allow for the rebuilding of a replica royal palace.

Battlefields and Flatlands

2007-07-26T21:46:00.001+12:00

Normandy and the famous 1944 invasions of beaches of Utah, Omaha, gold, Juno and Sword were up on my list of locations to see in Europe one day. I therefore bought myself a second hand bike, caught the train out of Paris for a little near starting point and then started exploring. It was great to see some of 'Atlantic wall' and many memorials and cemeteries, though on the whole I was slightly surprised at how little remains today of the largest invasion operations in history. The weather was the only thing that did not cooperate with my outdoor tour and I became very disappointed at the northern hemisphere 'summer'.

With the success of this first trip under my belt I jumped on a bus north to the flat lands of the Netherlands for a look at the coast, some remnant forest area and of course the capital Amsterdam. It was very amusing to turn up and be somewhat surprised to learn that cannabis is in fact still illegal, they simply have a bland eye policy which has some very serious flaws. I never did learn exactly what the legal situation of the red light district was, though it wasn't hard to miss with the cheapest hostel in town (ironically Christian) being located smack bang in the middle of some eye opening window displays.

Third World to the First World

2007-07-26T21:17:00.000+12:00

With the finish of my extra bonus mission in Darfur it was time to return to the MSF headquarters in Paris for debriefings and other finishing up items. I landed back in time to catch the last day of the famous Paris Air Show, which provided me with the maximum culture shock - the undeveloped open desert of Sudan with its mud huts contrasting with the huge new airliners, private jets and shiny military jet fighters.

Even looking back on my experiences at this stage I can see that I have learnt more than I expected about the complexities of trying to help other countries deal with extreme poverty. While it is easy to see that the efforts of the last months have made a big difference to the people we helped directly, it is more difficult to pin down whether this effort was a wonderful small part of a worthwhile larger goal, or simply a small band aid on a hopeless situation.

I have yet to decide for sure whether to do another mission or not, or whether perhaps to try out another organisation, or whether to simply run back to safe beautiful New Zealand. With a good few weeks holiday in Europe stretched out in front of me I guess I have plenty of time to think about it.

Closing Days

2007-06-22T04:33:00.001+12:00

Closing a mission is always said to be difficult. I was lulled into a false sense of security though with great friendly staff and beautiful surroundings, and so when the last week of the mission turned a bit pear shaped it really was an interesting life experience for me.

There were three things that in hindsight I wish could have gone better. The first resolved itself with the arrival from El Genina of Chloe to help with the HR side. Basically I misjudged the time it would require to count out 45 million diners for the 115 staff to be paid in the last days, and so Chloe was a huge help counting notes till the late into the night.

The second was more of a bolt out of the blue with four of my staff arrested by the police for stealing. Upon further investigation of the material concerned it appears to full into three categories, items that I had indeed ‘donated’ including mainly wood and plastic rubbish, items that I clearly had not given permission, and then items I had never seen before that had been ‘donated’ by past expats? It was difficult to sort out and the shock of having people you just have to trust not living up to your expectations I found to be very hard.

The third was the handover plan for the mission to the local Ministry of Health simply not getting approval from the authorities and so the orderly transition of health activities from one provider to the next instead turned into a lock down of all material as best we could. The image I have of the culmination of this effort is my driver and I struggling with the roof rack of the cars in the pitch back at 9pm in the evening, with heavy rain tipping down, all so that we could get them parked inside another NGO compound safely. It was really sad to leave the clinic closed and locked, rather than remaining open for the local people as planned.

Somehow we got everything completed and flew out on the lumbering white Mil 8 helicopter in the warm sun of Saturday morning with the last 500kg of files, money, radios and last minute luggage. While it didn’t go completely to plan I should remember the successes… my calculations of everybody’s last salary payment appears to have been correct with not a single compliant, and all important logistics material made it back to El Genina for use on another mission in the future.

I even managed to climb the jebel one last time early in the morning on the second to last day. I will miss the amazing vista of Mornei, the kids calling out or joining me on the way, and the calm quiet of my little reading spot under the summit tree.

Jebel Climbing

2007-06-08T05:43:00.000+12:00

The town of Mornei where I am now living is overlooked by a wonderful little mountain, or 'jebel' as they are known here. We climbed it on Friday (our day off here being a Muslim region) but did not get great views as it was quite cloudy. I'll have to try again next week. The jebel sits to the south of the town and rises abruptly from the otherwise flat sandy landscape. To the north and west are scrubby wastelands, and on the eastern side is the dry river bed or 'wadi'. In the village kids run and play and the place looks like a large healthy village.

Of course looks can be deceiving, and this village is in fact a camp which grew from 5000 residents to 75,000 refugees (or internally displaced peoples (IDP's) as they are now known) during the major Darfur violence of 2003 and 2004. Most people therefore have had their homes and livelihoods destroyed, often loosing many members of their family in the process. Armed men still wander the streets, and rapes and looting are common outside the immediate area of the camp. One of the two people recently named as wanted for trial by the International Criminal Court for war crimes in Darfur lives in the next village.

The 'wastelands' outside of town used to support a large population, perhaps not with ease, but certainly if the weather cooperated an intricate network of small farms, nomadic animal herders and small village markets provided enough food and economic activity for everyone. Now with so many hundreds of villages burnt to the ground, the locals are forced to concentrate on a few towns and camps such as Mornay. The nomads can no longer roam as far as they need the markets for exchange of produce and goods as much as the villages. The social, agricultural and economic structure is gone. Resource use becomes concentrated on a small area and devastation results.

The situation in Darfur is pretty bad with no end in sight.

The Mornay operation run by MSF is winding down so that a new mission can be opened elsewhere in Darfur, and so my job is to make sure that the logistics and administration closure all happens smoothly, with five different sites currently occupied, and 117 staff. The clinic and the out patient department are very quiet now and so the Australian expat doctor Vid is finding it hard to fill in her day. Luckily for me though there is plenty to do with sorting and fixing and packing of materials to be returned to store, and sorting, filing or binning the pile of paper and junk that builds up in an office over the years. There are a number of other NGO's in Mornay now, along with the local Ministry of Health, that can provide the same care and facilities as MSF and so we are handing over to them at the end of May. I'll certainly be here till the beginning of June.

The kids are certainly striking here. Perhaps it is just the sheet number of them, or perhaps it is because they are so incredibly playful. There are various open areas in the centre of town and in the morning and evening there are always games of soccer or tag, often several games on one field all taking place simultaneously. I often end up with five or six kids hanging off me, all while I'm trying to concentrate on trying to score a goal between the piles of rocks and eight goal keepers. The woman in Mornay seem to do most of the work, carrying water, collecting firewood, cooking, looking after the kids, all in 40 degree heat and with a smile. The few men here seem to be usually seen around the market and sometimes riding through town.

There are no cars in town except for the few operated by the NGO's, and even then the cars cannot leave town or they are carjacked. There are however a lots of animals, though I guess mostly donkeys, but also a good number of goats, sheep and a few camels. The donkeys are certainly the noisiest and you just wouldn't believe how much racket a donkey can make at 2am just across the fence from the living compound.

The expat living compound is very nice, with individual tukuls (although we actually all have been sleeping outside as it is too hot inside), and a nicely set up living area where we eat and watch DVD's. There is a beautiful little black and white cat and her three kittens sharing the living area, and not only try to keep her feed but also the kittens are well cuddled in the evenings. There is a cook who provides meals of fresh salad, rice and meat stew, though sometimes popcorn and pancakes make an appearance. A cleaner keeps up with our sweaty dirty clothes (mostly white, well, off white, MSF t-shirts) and a friendly crew of watchmen welcome us home and take care of cleaning, filling and lighting the kerosene lamps when it gets dark.

So, that's the update for now. I am really enjoying my work here and certainly have had a burst of energy since leaving Bentiu. I'm looking forward in equal measures to the work of the next few weeks, and then whatever life brings along next when I fly out of Sudan back to Paris.

Righto, off to climb the jebel again.

Hello Mornay

2007-05-05T07:19:00.001+12:00

I flew from Bentiu to Khartoum and spent a good few days relaxing at the office, the hotel and the guesthouse, catching on up email and making a few calls home to close friends and family. I discovered a whole other side of the city with a large new shopping mall allowing fast, easy and slightly boring shopping for supplies, and a ten pin bowling alley complete with overpriced drinks.

Although finished in south Sudan I've been asked to go to a place in the far west of Sudan called Mornay to help with the closure of a mission there for the next month of so. I'm quite excited at the prospect of being able to see some more of the country and help with another whole aspect of MSF operations.

First stop for me was the capital of El Genina and a stay with the small Darfur coordination team based here. As we landed on the dirt airstrip, with various crashed aircraft left discarded along the sides of the runway, I noticed the same menacing green attack helicopters parked on the tarmac as in Khartoum. I've not had a chance to see much of the rest of the village.

The logistics coordinator Julian has just finished his mission here and so the good timing for me meant some roast sheep today with the local staff. I really try to accept the Sudanese group dining experience, but I do find it difficult to eat with my hands, and slightly off putting to be eating from the same bowls and plates. I guess it's simply not a skill that comes as easily as you might expect, I'll have to keep practicing.

Goodbye Bentiu

2007-05-05T07:17:00.001+12:00

I waved goodbye to Bentiu from the plane, having handed over my role to the new Logistics Administrator to a Frenchman named Jacques. After five and a half months my leaving was a subdued affair, as by a quirk of timing most of the team has been changed at the same time. With the MSF friends I had worked with so much during my time at the clinic already gone, it was good at least to have still some of the 'good old crew' from ACF for a few combined farewell and birthday drinks. They will almost all be replaced with
new volunteers in the next weeks as well.

I look back with fond memories of my time and I certainly learnt a lot about Africa, about MSF, about staff management, about getting along with people from completely different backgrounds and experiences to my own. The good times I had with the expats at the compound… Elodie, Marie No, Musa… really made up for the hardships of dealing with the problems of the
clinic.

The MSF program at Bentiu requires revision, and this will mean definitely reducing the number of staff immediately, probably considering other medical priorities or directions in the short term, and perhaps closing the mission and handing over to the new hospital next door in the medium term.

I wasn't really sure what to do with my last day in south Sudan and so I ended up over playing with the kids. We had a lot of fun sitting around with the camera all trying to get into the photos. It soon turned into movie making and this lead to an ever larger crowd of laughing children. It certainly was a positive and fun last afternoon.

Do I love it or hate it?

2007-04-06T22:17:00.000+12:00

The months have rolled by, I know most of the staff here pretty well, I enjoy the company of the other expats, and landing back here from Juba did feel a little like coming home. Sometimes it feels like yesterday that I arrived, and other times it feels like I have always lived here and the rest of my life is a dream.

The good aspects are certainly pretty clear, living and working in the middle of Africa, with different sight and smells each day, the smiling locals and the fun happy kids. Hanging out with the other excellent people from both MSF and ACF. Helping to run a clinic that is helping a local population that have had years of war and disruption.

The bad aspects are also pretty clear… living and working in the middle of Africa really. The dirt, and the rubbish, and the heat, and the flat landscape in every direction. The sometimes extremely hostile and unfriendly relations with staff, or the problems of motivation and direction with people with little initiative. Wondering if the little job I do in the little medical clinic in this vast country (let alone continent) really makes any difference at all in the world.

I am finding it hard to be without anyone around with the same outdoor passion for mountains and adventures that I have, and I often find myself sitting at the dinner table staring off into space, imagining skiing or climbing, but sometimes simply being in the green friendly back garden of my Christchurch house talking, scheming or sharing stories with friends.

The things I enjoy and experience here though are certainly unique and unforgettable. The blazing sunsets are fantastic, and the kids playing in the water outside or fishing in the swamp produce a constant stream of chatter and laughter. The African tukuls, the dusty roads, the oily food, the colourful African shirts that are all ‘made in china’.

The stories of course are outrageous unless you are actually here, with reciprocal clan murders last week, meeting the SPLA commander this week to ask for the release of arrested staff, the local traditional treatment of ‘cutting’ and bleeding, sitting for a moment with a patient Mary who was 160cm tall and weighed 20kg and didn’t last the night.

Do I love it or do I hate it? Still haven't deceided?

Juba Meningitis

2007-03-19T19:53:00.000+12:00

I was only back in Bentiu for a couple of weeks when out of the blue I was asked to get back on the plane to a job in the capital of south Sudan, the sleepy little town of Juba. I was told that I would act as a logistics person for the emergency vaccination campaign taking place in town. I arrived last of the team though though and so drew the short straw of being more of the administration person, trying to keep track of the 12 sites, 400 local staff and 7,000,000 diners in cash. Kind of like herding cats really.

It was extremely interesting to see a mass vaccination campaign in action with long lines of people, screaming children, and the piles of materials stockpiled in the days beforehand quickly diminish. Our target population was 150,000 but the turnout in the last days dropped off a lot and I think we ‘only’ did a bit over 100,000.

Also in Juba right now is a cholera outbreak which MSF Spain are looking after with a treatment centre just down the road from the MSF France office here. With 80 new admissions a day and the whole process of trying to stop the spread of the disease it was quite a logistic operation. Again it was great to see the real life version of what I have read about in the manuals. Back in Bentiu I have a small store of material for cholera and I now at least have some idea how it all gets used in practice.

The people here have been really fun and there has also been a mission in Akueum closing down with all those expats passing through town on their way home. So generally both the office and the emergency house where we sleep could be best described as mad to say the least, but things should calm down over the coming days. We had a great party last night to celebrate the end of the vaccination campaign and everyone is looking forward to catching up on sleep the minute the mountain of followup work is completed.

I fly back to Bentiu in a couple more day and look forward to the relative calm and quiet of my usual log admin job.

Impostor in Paradise

2007-02-27T02:53:00.000+13:00

Saving the world is meant to be hard work, and like the saying goes 'Work hard, play hard'. Somehow then an impostor like me in the humanitarian aid field in dusty hot Sudan ended up with over a week on the beach in the paradise of Zanzibar. The contrast between the two places was certainly quite something.

I spent a lot of time in the clear warm turquoise waters of the Indian ocean with several dives and lots of snorkeling. Elodie (expat doctor from Bentiu also on holiday) and I were able to experience the thrill together of cruising alongside a large turtle in about 12m of water which was amazing. It was wonderful to be able to spend so many hours swimming, relaxing and simply floating the day away.

People really make or break any part of life and so I count myself extremely lucky to have met so many great people in such a short time. The four Norwegian teachers also on break from work in Africa were wonderful friends for the first week, and then Trinity, Jim and Roger were great company for my last few days.

The food was out standing, with a great breakfast provided by the hostel in the morning, lunch overlooking the water, and then seafood in the evening while watching the fiery sunset out over the water to the west.

Zanzibar

2007-02-16T19:52:00.000+13:00

At the three month point of a mission with MSF one gets a weeks leave to the nearest 'relaxing' country which translated to the Sudan situation seems to mean 'Zanzibar' to most volunteers. So here I am, in the warm and humid weather of the famous spice islands, surrounded by amazing clear turquoise water, and about to head out of the quaint little stone town and heard north to the beaches.

I look forward to getting in some diving, though it has been a while since I did any so I hope I remember how it all goes, and hope to meet up with Elodie, the doctor from Bentiu and her boyfriend if I can for some company. If not then there should be a few other people I hope around - if not then more time in the water I suppose.

Vultures Online

2007-01-29T00:14:00.001+13:00

Looks like vultures are being featured by some little mag in the states...

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/issues/2007/february/vulture.php

I helped a little in March last year and it was a great laugh to have Susan the reporter around while my UK friend Richard and I were catching vulture chicks.

(PS Another update from April 2008: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/7373381.stm)

Acronyms Dictionary

2007-01-16T05:53:00.001+13:00

The humanitarian world is full of acronyms. At first they are bewildering, but soon they just become part of the everyday language here and you forget you are speaking another whole language…
MSFF – Medians san Frontiers France, doctors without boarders french section, the organisation I am working for currently. Fiercely independent, providing emergency medicine, usually in difficult conditions.
MSFH – MSF Holland, and I guess there is a MSFB around as Belgium have a mission here as well in Sudan.
NGO’s – non governmental organizations… random bunches of tree hugging lefty do gooders who are not affiliated directly with national governments or the UN.
ACF – Action Contra Famine, action against hunger, another French outfit which concentrates on food distribution, water and sanitation (see watsan). Friendly fun group in Bentiu, come complete with alcohol, but don’t swap F100 (see below) with them.
Watsan – water and sanitation, a general term for an area taken for granted in the developed world, providing safe clean water, and then providing a place for all that fluid to go after being used for washing, cleaning, drinking and crapping.
F100 – special milk powder for malnourished patients, comes in foil packets that make two liters… bane of my life this week as it can go off (organolepic change?) before the expiry date for no apparent reason if stored with ACF.
BP5 – another product for the malnourished, sort of like a compressed bar of crumbly milk powder… edible but you certainly need some water to wash it down. There is also plumpynut, which is like peanut butter and milk powder mixed together sealed into a foil pouch, I’m sure I would have like it as a kid, but only just edible now.
CSB – corn starch something, yellow powder that is cooked into porridge for the clinic patients, I have yet to try some.
UNWFP – World Food Program, the branch of the UN that cruises around provided vast stocks of food, most of it here stamped USAID.
GAA – German Ago Action, some sort of agricultural NGO and is the main partner to the WFP here in Bentiu.
UNDP – UN Development Program
UNMIS – United Nations Mission in Sudan, the armed component of the UN in the southern Sudan region, complete with white tanks and blue berets.
UN Observers – the unarmed UN guys here who simply have to try and keep talking to everybody on all side of the conflict, also complete with blue berets.
OCHA – UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, unsure of their exact role except providing some slow but free wireless internet access for my computer.
IDP’s – internally displaced persons, the term used instead of refugee when people have to flee their homes but don’t actually cross any international boarders.
SPLA – Sudan People’s Liberation Army, the official army of the south now, which all other armed militia are meant to join.
GOS – Government of Sudan, the rulers of the north of Sudan under dictator Omar Al Basher who is responsible for the blood shed here and in Dafur.
CPA – Comprehensive Peace Agreement, signed 9th Jan two years ago between SPLA and GOS which allows for a referendum in 2011 on independence for southern Sudan, expected by many to fail to keep the peace due to oil interest in the area.
SFC – Supplementary Feeding Centre, providing extra food for mildly malnourished patents.
TFC – Therapeutic Feeding Centre, providing treatment for severally malnourished patients.

Kids playing with matches

2007-01-16T05:22:00.000+13:00

Another fire broke out in the Rubkona market that leveled one area of shacks and shops. The watchmen here at the compound alerted me again and I took a series of photos as the wall of flame marched from the tire shops on the right with thick bellowing smoke, to the left, with gain stores catching fire and some fuel drum explosions.

The fire was quite a way from us here and it was ironic to have people in the street carry on their normal business… women and girls gracefully carrying building materials on their heads, young boys riding the donkeys which carry water from the river (swamp) to the town to sell.

A wide road area where the buses leave from seems to have formed a firebreak and stopped the fire from continuing its destructive march. In the evening the area affected was still smoldering, but by the morning shops areas had been recleared and reconstruction of the simple wooden shacks already underway again.

The fire is rumored to have been started by kids playing with matches - clearly an international cross-cultural destructive fascination for children everywhere on this planet.

Christmas 2006 and New Year 2007

2007-01-15T06:01:00.000+13:00

Christmas in little Bentiu turned out to be a relatively quiet affair. We, the expats of MSF and ACF that had not somehow weaseled some leave or holiday to a more favorable location, gathered at the MSF compound on Christmas eve for a wonderful dinner cooked by the field coordinator Marieno. At midnight we proceeded to the stadium area in the main town but the open air church service was cold and boring, not the wonderful african drumming that we had been hoping for.

Christmas day started for me with the arrival of the water tanker from Heglig at 9am as per usual but with Gordon, the local Nuer staff member who normally takes care of this watsan exercise being off on holiday. I laughed away to myself as I sleepily found the workshop key and figured out the water pump and assorted tanks and piping.

The rest of the day was spent mostly across at the clinic, with a midday meal put on for both staff and patients, consisting of two unlucky sheep who spent their last night tethered beside the white Toyota land cruisers in the front yard. The speeches before the meal were unexpected and quite funny. A few words were demanded from me and so I joked to the assembled group of similar hot weather in New Zealand but of heading to the beach by the sea in the afternoon for a swim. I’m unsure of how many people in the room have even seen the ocean, and from what I gather summer back home wasn’t as summery as advertised.

New years was quite a different kettle of fish, with an invite up to the UN Mission in Sudan (UNMIS) where a large group of Indian soldiers is stationed. I expected quite a crowd but in keeping with good British tradition only a few officers were present with all others safely tucked up in bed I suppose. To fill out the crowd a little were people from other NGO’s and UN. Also in keeping with the days of the British Raj was the vast quantity of rum on hand, all of it apparently standard issue rations to the Indian Army wherever they are in the world.

Everyone was very friendly and the food put on was excellent with large hunks of BBQ chicken to start with and then after midnight some good Indian curies. The music played and people danced and we welcomed in the new year. There were only a couple of the fairer sex present... Elodie, a young attractive friendly French doctor from MSF, and Paulina, a young attractive Colombian psychiatrist just arrived in town. The attention received by the women from a couple of slightly inebriated, lonely, over friendly guests was hilarious to observe. Musa (the other MSF doctor here and all round great guy) and I looked on and laughed our selves silly before being co-opted and used as human shields.

New year’s resolutions never really formed in my rum affected mind… maybe eat more fruit…?

Fighting, Dancing and Fires

2006-12-14T04:15:00.000+13:00

Life is interesting in the field and you never quite know what is just around the corner.

Fighting broke out 10 days ago in Malakau, a small Nile River village 180km to the east of us here. It only lasted about 48 hours but may have left a couple of hundred dead. A southern SPLA (Sudan Peoples Liberation Army) unit thought they would have a crack at knocking off a northern SAF (Sudan Armed Forces) general that was not leaving the area as promised in the CPA (Comprehensive Peace Agreement). It all got a bit out of hand with tanks and mortar rounds apparently… hate it when that happens.

All quiet here in Bentiu but I now have the evacuation box safely in my tukul beside my bed and the spare landcrusier key around my neck.

At the weekend was the leaving party for Dorothy, the only other New Zealander in the area that I have met so far. She has been with ACF (Action Against Famine) and is returning home for Christmas. We all got together for a feed and then some wild music and dancing which alternated between African, French and English music until the generator ran out of gas and the power failed. The truly diehard of us kept the party going by supplementing the volume of the laptop speakers with our singing until the poor computer battery also gave up for the night.

The moral is that diesel gets added to the shopping list along side popcorn and beer for Saturday parties.

Yesterday I had just sat down to lunch, last night’s cold leftovers and a cold bottle of water fresh from the fridge, when the watchman came to find me with some animated sign actions (he speaks Nuer, I speak NZ). I jumped up, aware that late the night before I had interpreted a message as “the gate is broken again” (and spent ten minutes looking for socks to keep off the mosquito’s) instead of the actual situation, which was “there’s an unconscious half dead women and large attendant crowd gathering outside the gate”.

Today the problem was our neighbors neighbors tukuls were on fire about 200m away, with large clouds of smoke rising into hot blue sky and the horrible sound of crackling flames. I scaled the sandbag boundary wall in a single leap, and stood on top, trying and failing to raise anyone else in the area on the radio, while the wind direction and thinking about what would happen if the tukuls closest to our boundary ignited. After a very long ten minutes or so it became clear that the wind was carrying embers safely into the swamp and the flames would not spread further. Back to lunch, now warm and with ants. About ten tukuls were destroyed in all. People with nothing… now with even less.

The job of raising the main quadra loop radio aerial here at the compound and getting the clinic radio working properly have suddenly leapt to the top of the to do list.

My First Day Off

2006-11-21T09:07:00.000+13:00

I've been in Bentiu, my new home for the next six months, since Wednesday afternoon, only a matter of a few days. There seems to have been a lot to take in during that time and today there seems to be a minute now to type some descriptions of where I am on my first day off.

(Background: After far too long waiting in Paris for a Sudan visa to enter the country I finally boarded a flight by Quatar Airways to Doha in the gulf. Then after a short wait in the half finished airport another flight down to Khartoum, the capital city of this, the largest country in Africa. I spent a few days in Khartoum and then it was another set of three flights in progressively smaller aircraft until I touched down in a little eight seater Cessna with a charming smart arse macho south african pilot).

I'm now typing this email on my laptop while sitting in the living tukul, which is a very traditional African hut with a thatched roof made of dried grass and walls of sticks and mud. The floor is a mixture of rough concrete and mud covered in places with woven mats. There is a dining table, some plastic chairs, and at the other end a couch and other comfy chairs. Two rickety shelving units hold spare sheets and towels, and other books and papers. In the corner is a little tv linked up to a rusty satellite disk outside. We can get BBC world and a random assortment of other Arabic stations.

This tukul is part of the inter compound, the perimeter of which is surround by a high grass fence and an inner wall of sandbags. There are around ten tukul and other structures spread around the area. One of these is my bedroom and is built partly into the ground and so they appear very low from the outside. They are circular with the bed in the middle, covered with a mosquito net. There is nothing else in my tukul, except that a shelf is formed by the wall and ground meeting at about waist height and this is where my bags and various other things sit.

It's about 35 degrees now in the middle of the day, and standing in the direct sun is hard. I find it too bright to be without my sunglasses. It gets cool in the early morning, sometimes enough to need a light blanket to stay warm. Everything is covered in fine red dust. The dust come from the road mainly I think and is stirred up by the passing traffic. It coats everything and is not ready helped by the daily sweeping which just stirs and redistributes it again. I try to keep covers on everything I have and keep my laptop well sealed up when not in use.

The working area of this Ribkona village site is in front of the living compound and consists of a large storeroom, mechanical workshop, generator lean to structure and the office building. Inside the office building are several desks, with four of the dustiest laptops ever imagined, I don't understand how they are still operating?! Paper does not stay white for very long after coming out of the printer or photocopier. Just touching anything seems to turn it red, dirty and dusty. There are a number of metal cabinets that appear to not make little difference to the ability of the dust to get in after a few days.

A satellite phone in the corner (that can be linked to a computer) makes it possible to send small emails at some horrendous cost per minute. There is no internet. The newly built cell phone tower in the area appears to be working again for the third day in three months though and so mobiles are only just taking off here. There is village mains power from 1-3pm and 7-11pm sometimes, otherwise we run on our own generator. Water is delivered by tanker a few times a week and is treated with chlorine and delivered to the kitchen and showers from a large elevated tank via some creative plastic piping, sticks, string and odd fittings.

We get up at daybreak which is six thirty or seven and have a cup of tea, and chapatti and jam for breakfast. There is some cereal around that I might get into if I can get the ants out. The national staff show up around 8 and work till 4 with an hour off for lunch. There are four expat staff and about 80 or 100 national staff in total. Under the logistics side of things that I am involved with there are about four key staff I think, with about another 10 under them. Dinner consists of two types of rice and stew with meat and veges and lots of oil, all cooked during the day by our cook Martha. Lunch has so far been made up of leftovers from the night before.

The clinic where most of the actual 'work' of MSF is carried out is about 10 minutes drive away in Bentiu, along a dusty and rough, but surprisingly well made dirt road, which crosses a river (more of a swamp really as far as I can tell) at one point. This river was the reason for having the clinic and the living area separated, as escape in time of trouble from the clinic could be difficult if the bridge was damaged or defended. The situation here is very quiet at the moment. There is a military compound next door which consists of a dusty courtyard area ringed with a low stick fence and containing a single building with mostly open sides. A few boys in green uniforms mill around most days. A large number of women in the town have been issued uniforms last week and nobody can figure out why. Apparently a mine was found in a neighbouring town market last week and has been fenced off till the UN can find a bomb disposal person to get rid of it. I've only seen a few guns so far, though there were two army tanks being washed in the swamp nearby a few days ago.

The clinic is larger than the living area and again ringed in a grass fence with about 20 buildings of various sizes inside consisting of wards, ICU, food storages, toilets, laboratory, tea room and morgue. One area has a secondary fence around it as the TB isolation unit and a face mask is needed when in this area. I haven't spent a lot of time there yet apart from unloading a mountain of boxes of milk powder yesterday that came by truck and having a quick tour.

We have three well worn white land cruisers with drivers to transport us between the compound and clinic, though there area a couple of bikes around that can be used. There seems to be one standard low quality heavy old fashioned bicycle that everyone has here in various states of disrepair. In the area around the clinic is the governor's office, the new hospital paid for by the oil companies, and various other military and police posts. Further along the road from our living compound in Ribkona are various other NGO's and bits of the UN. We visited the folks of ACL (Action Against Famine I think) last night for some drinks and nibbles and slightly combative game of cards. There is also the German Agricultural Action, UN World Food
Program, UNMOS, UNOCHA, UNDP. the list goes on.

The expats I am currently with are all great. The field coordinator Francis is french with a very funny form of english, which certainly still does the job most of the time. He prefixes every name with mama or papa. I have become logco-papa-reaeh-chard (logco stands for administration and logistics). Marie is the nursing supervisor and has been here a few months. Elodie is the expat doctor and beat me here by a couple of weeks by coming into the country via Kenya and the south. Marie and Elodie are slightly younger than me I think and Francis is older. All are french, with Marie originally from Nigeria and only Elodie having really good english. There are also about seven other national staff from out of this area, mainly Khartoum working with us and living in the compound. I'm slowly starting to get to know them as well.

The surrounding country side is a mix of swamp with lush green reeds and some open water, dusty roads, rational villages with tukul's and not much else, and the market area in the distance where animals, trucks, rubbish, dust and people all coexist somehow. The poverty certainly is quite eye opening with the difference from other places I have visited in the world being that there is no contrast. There are no solid houses or sealed roads or running water. Everything is made of tree branches, dry grass walling, mud floors, plastic sheeting or tarps, and for the very flash stalls a few sheets of corrugated iron. It's hard to imagine the amount of development required for simple OECD style living when there is little more here currently than just a mix of desert and swamp.

My job consists of supervising the national staff, keeping everything running and making improvements to both the compound and the living area. Just what this means and the difficulties involved with language and motivation are only now starting to dawn on me. I stare at the line of unused technical manuals on the library shelf here and wish for a few of those 'leadership for beginners' and 'seven steps to achieving your goals' books found at airport bookstands. I'm not entirely sure they would translate to the african mindset well.

My laptop is just about out of battery power, a frog just jumped across my foot, and the 'relationship manager' from the UN force just dropped by for a chat so got to go...

First Impressions of Bentiu

2006-11-20T02:56:00.000+13:00

Jet black kids playing in the mud. Striking african women with platted hair and colourful clothes. Two green military tanks being washed in the river. A comical meeting with our french field coordinator and his little english, and the new government finance ministry, in a room full of people doing nothing all day. TB patients coughing behind the grass isolation fence. Chatting to the young french doctor who wants to know what a kiwi looks like. Invited to play volleyball on Sunday with the Red Cross expats down the way. Trying to help Kaliphar the mechanic with the generator even though we don't speak each other's language. Meeting with the UN World Food Program woman to try and explain needing to destroy 200 bags of donated wheat which are full of insects. Trying to figure out what exactly 'it's broken' means with respect to the vehicle radio. So many white land cruisers stirring up the dust on the road. Showering under a tap sticking out of the tin ceiling. Rice and meat stew and coke for dinner. I've only been twenty four hours in Bentiu. Sleeping under a mosquito net in a tukul. Tomorrow, Africa again.

White and Blue Nile Rivers

2006-11-15T02:11:00.000+13:00

Couldn't help but break the rules and get some photos of one of the most famous geographical points in Africa, and so I wandered past the teenage soldiers on the bridge and headed along the flood bank until I came to the where the two rivers meet. It seems that as it is the end of the rainy season the names are misleading and the usually Blue Nile is very brown. Any other country would have a wonderful public area with signposts and tourists and cameras and touts, but here it is just the back end of a run down kids play park which seemed pretty closed up??

Also checked out the local National Museum which had a number of things saved from the flooding caused by the building of the Aswan Dam by Egypt (which I visited way back in 1994, I think I'm getting old).

I'm off tomorrow morning on a World Food Program flight south and so this will be my last post for a little while, will check back in with text but probably no more photos for a little while sorry (or maybe I'll add them at a later date).

Into Africa

2006-11-12T20:46:00.001+13:00

Africa is hot and dusty and huge, just as expected really. I have landed in Khartoum, the capital city of Sudan, and leave soon for the south of the country and my home for the next six months, Bentiu. I flew here from Paris on Quatar Airlines via the city of Doha in the gulf.

I am keen to see a little of this historical city, sitting at the confluence of the Blue Nile and White Nile rivers. Taking photos seems to be a bit of a problem here though and so I grabbed an aerial photo from google earth to show the joining of the rivers. It also shows the main airport from which the government here launches bombing raids in Darfur and if you zoom in you can even see the attack helicopters that are also used against villages. The MSF office and house where I am staying is located just to left of the end of the runway near the blank square area (a cemetery actually) and the main town area is in the centre of the photo on the south bank of the clear flowing Blue Nile.

I'm stuck in the office at the moment with briefings and people to meet and chat to about the project in Bentiu. I have also been spending a bit of time with the MSF mechanic learning about the Toyota Land Cruiser's that we use down there and how to keep them running. There are a lot of white land cruiser's in town here with various different logos on the doors... UN, CARE, UNHCR, UNESCO, ICRC... etc.

Flying Machines

2006-11-02T12:10:00.000+13:00

I'm back in Paris again for final briefings from the MSF France office. I've been given the background of the mission, the budget and a few hints and tips on the people already down there in Sudan. I've been out to the bookshop and got a guidebook and map for some more background info.

I'm heading for a little place called Bentiu which is in the south of the country where a peace deal was signed last year and things should be pretty stable. Certainly in comparison to the Darfur region just to the north, things should be very quiet.

Today was a holiday in France and so with no chance of my visa or plane tickets coming through I thought it was time to check out the Paris Air and Space Museum. What a place, just fantastic for an aviation and technology nut like me. Lots of rockets, nuclear missiles, jet fighters and even two shiny Concordes! Most excellent.

More Wanders in the Mountains

2006-11-02T11:24:00.000+13:00

While filling in time waiting for my upcoming MSF job I have been getting into the hills as much as possible.

I visited Chamonix and the the large area of walkways, paths and refuges on the western side of the valley. This allowed for fantastic views across to the 'big' mountains (inluding Mt Blanc) on the main French Italian boarder.

I had a bit of luck on my way to the mountains one day as in a little town second hand sale I spotted a pair of TR12 ski touring boots. I had mine stolen along with my car just before leaving New Zealand and so picking up a replacement pair for 35 euro was great.

A great overnight trip was up another little valley in the Chamonix area to a little refuge which had an open 'winter' room to stay. The weather was not too cold at all and there were great views from higher up on the range.

I also visited the Grenoble area, and did some day hikes up a valley inland from the town of Allevard. The weeks of waiting for a mission have been a little frustrating but I'm off to Paris now for final briefing and plane tickets hopefully.

Climbing in the Alps

2006-10-20T02:10:00.000+13:00

I had a fantastic weekend out in the hills of the Aosta Valley in the north of Italy. The valley leads up to the tunnel under Mt Blanc (through to the swiss side of the alps) and has wonderful castles dotting the country side along the way. The weather was not the best but we still got out and up into the mountains to stay at my first European refugio for a somewhat cold night.

The next day started wet but eventually dried out enough for Rory and I to get in a four pitch rock climb up some wonderful slabs. It was fully bolted and wonderful climbing with fantastic views from sun warmed granite. Just great.

On my way heading back up to Paris via Geneva I'm hoping to get some more time in the hills around Chamonix, fingers crossed I can get it all to happen.

Visiting Milan

2006-10-17T03:29:00.000+13:00

My good friends and ex flatmates Jane and Rory happened to be in Milan, Italy, and so a visit was certainly in order. I bused through the famous Mt Blanc tunnel and down the highway through the Italian side of the European alps. Great views of castles, mountains and amazing roading feats of engineering.

Milano is a big city with the associated pollution and traffic, but it does have some amazing sights including the 'Durmo' which is a huge cathedral in the centre of town. It is covered with the most amazing statues of all shapes and sizes in brilliantly white marble. There is also a huge castle in the centre of town which provided light climbing relief.

Milan was also in striking distance of Venice and so we all went on a day trip to one of the tourist centers of Italy. There certainly were a lot of people, but the city itself still lived up to expectations with lots of little alleyways and waterways to see and explore.

Geneva, International City

2006-10-06T21:39:00.000+13:00

The international city, home of the old League of Nations, and now the european seat of the United Nations and headquarters for the Red Cross, WHO, WTO, UNHCR etc etc. There are a number of beautiful old buildings which is not surprising for a city with such a history, and plenty of museums. The real bonus though is the lake around which the city is built, complete with the highest fountain in the world, sending a column of water well over 100m high.

I'm staying with my friend Fiona just around the corner from the lake in a typical Geneva apartment, quite small and simple but with everything from the railway station, post office or supermarket right on the doorstep. All the advantages and disadvantages of high population density at once.

I've explored the city a bit, visiting the Red Cross museum and got myself a card for the UN library for the internet access. Fiona's friend here Jean Micheal has been very kind, with two rides into the Fench alps and a sailing outing on the wonderful Lake Geneva. It certainly must be lot easier keeping a boat in a fresh water lake than having to battle with salt water. Does make me want to go ocean sailing though, add that to the list of things to do.

The French alps are indeed amazing by the shear number of people who live and work in the region, with large numbers of houses dotting the landscape and motorways, cable cars and ski fields in sight at all times. Quite different from the undeveloped parks of New Zealand. Long live wilderness.

Return to London

2006-10-04T03:28:00.000+13:00

My first view of London after emerging from the train ride through the chunnel and finding my way through some back streets was really quite something. The London Eye, the Houses of Parliment, the River Thames, the dome of St Paul's Cathredral. A little dull and grey granted, but for a first visit back since being born here and moving to New Zealand aged two, not bad at all.

I stayed with friend Vanessa and Andrew and had a fantastic time exploring the sights and visiting the wonderful museums, mostly in search of historic aircraft. This meant that RAF Hendon, the Science Museum and the Imperial War Museum all got a good portion of my time. I also managed to catch an airshow down near Brighton with a good range of spitfires and a display from the BBMF Lancaster bomber. I worked on a Lancaster bomber restoration project in Auckland and so had a particular interest in catching one flying.

I guess second reflections on London would be that it was more dense than expected, a little more crowded than I guessed and certainly a lot further from the 'great outdoors' than my taste would allow for too long. There certainly are a lot of places and things to visit and so I look forward to returning and perhaps even venturing out further from London and up to the Lakes District, and perhaps Scotland.

Passing Through Paris

2006-09-14T20:51:00.000+12:00

What a place!! An amazing number of old buildings and stunning architecture and art work. All quite overwhelming in many ways to have so many famous sights all within a small city centre area. I spent time at the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and of course the Louvre. I shared the time with Hannah who was on the MSF course in Bordeaux with me and some of her friends who visited for the weekend from London.

Traveling now in my thirties rather than my twenties is pretty weird. Most people at the hostel are younger and some are a whole lot younger. Quite off putting to find out the group of people you are chatting to haven’t even had their 21st birthday yet. I guess a quick train trip to Paris from London is pretty easy for uni students on holiday break.

I think it reinforces my view that I would like to travel with friends, family or a partner if possible in the future. Even if you get less done and there is lots of compromise at least you get to share the experience. Onto the train now to London to visit the Queen.

MSF (Doctors Without Borders)

2006-09-14T10:14:00.000+12:00

I had been trying to get a position through the Red Cross but with no luck in this field I thought I would go back to my first choice with MSF (Médecins Sans Frontières), a French emergency aid organisation based in Europe. I got lucky and scored a position on the logistics training course run in Bordeaux, France. With two weeks notice I packed up, flew around the world, had my bag go missing on the way, and then spent a wonderful week with ten other aspiring MSF’ers.

The course was good, quite full on time wise with sessions from 8:30 in the morning till 8 at night. The people were great with a good cross section of backgrounds and personalities. I’m now eligible to be placed on the ‘mission’, although there are no openings in the near future and so I’ll have to wait and see if I get selected for anything soon. It’s a bit stressful not knowing what the future holds but in the meantime I’m checking out a little bit of Europe.

Leaving the New Zealand Alpine Club

2006-09-13T10:32:00.000+12:00

I ended my five and a half years as executive officer of the New Zealand Alpine Club on a high note with the opening of the Home of Mountaineering. This new building provides a great new office for the organisation, as well as meeting and storage areas. It was opened by Sir Ed with a couple of hundred people along to all celebrate.

The club certainly drove me mad at times with the lack of responsibility from the Club management but hopefully this can change in the future. The job did give me new skills in accounting, staff management and generally moving things forward. It was a dream job in many ways working in an area I love with a lot of freedom.

After finishing with the Club I spent a week with the parents up in Auckland, some time in the hills ski touring, and then a lot of time packing up little Selwyn Street cottage. I’m getting ready to see if I can get a job doing international aid work. I’m very sad to leave this phase of my Christchurch life and look forward to returning.

My First Blog

2005-11-25T14:31:00.000+13:00

Well, never tried this before but thought I might give it a go and see how all this blogging really works. Seems to be quite simple to grab a good little blog address and now my first post seems to be working ok as well.

The thing I have yet to find is how to get my picture up online. I'm sure I'll figure it out soon...