As a Juxtaposition to Trump and other panic artist charlatans. A couple of personal newsletters from a wonderful young lady that I know:
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Hullo from Guinea!
It has been an interesting 3 weeks. I feel like I’ve learnt a lot and the fact that everything is in acronyms and most of my written work is in French it’s definitely putting my brain to good use!
Before the Ebola outbreak, WFP here in Guinea was a small office and didn’t have much outside attention from donors. However since September, the office has almost doubled in size with international staff as well as national staff. There are now 150 staff altogether, and not much additional office space! There are 20 international staff, and more to come, working on the ebola emergency operation (EMOP). These WFP staff are deployed from all over the world at last minute to come and work in emergencies so they have a lot of experience and have seen all sorts. This emergency is different to anything though because it’s invisible, it’s not like there is a natural disaster or we are in a war torn country. It’s new for everyone which is why it is posing such a challenge.
In terms of Ebola in Conakry, people are still going about their normal day. I’m more focused on not getting hit by a falling coconut or falling down a drain. It was everyone’s own decision to come here but there are some people who are more paranoid than others, of which I try to not spend too much time with.
We are now having our temperature taken on entering and leaving the office by this plastic looking gun which they aim at your forehead. My colleague’s temperature was 32 degrees by which the security guards nodded that this was absolutely fine. We tried to explain that this is not normal and she would be a snowman by the end of the day, but they don’t understand. We have got a health adviser on board who is really good, although he doesn't speak French so that’s a bit tricky.
Last weekend we took a boat to the islands, which was amazing. You just completely forget where you are, the peace and the view of blue water. There are wild dolphins! It makes it worth it because it’s quite testing living here, even though there’s potential, I just feel there’s no hope. People do live on the islands, not many. There’s still rubbish on the beach but not as much as here in Conakry. And the green trees make it look so tropical. I think that will be the plan for most Sundays as there really is nothing, and I mean NOTHING to do here in Conakry. I’ve been to all the restaurants that are acceptable to eat in. We went to a funny bar which consisted of plastic chairs in a line in the dark under a canopy, and I got eaten alive by mosquitoes. The thing is we’re not advised to take taxis which is fine by me as there are no road rules. One hour the road will be one way and then next it will be a two way. Undertake, overtake, the rules are up to you! There are so many cars, the traffic is horrendous. Where are people going??
But travelling in a car is when you get to see all the side streets. Children playing football everywhere. Schools are still closed because of Ebola. Women washing, sewing or peeling vegetables outside their house, which look like garden sheds with a tin roof and grills for windows. Everyone has a TV, because they have nothing else to do... Girls having their hair braided and men hanging around chatting. It’s all very open and friendly.
It is just coming to the end of rainy season and the tropical storms only seem to occur at night which in a way is quite nice because it blocks out all the noise from the streets and turns it into a blackout. But it’s also quite scary. The other night I woke up in such a fright because of the lightening and thunder, I jumped out of bed to pull out all the plugs, even though there was already a power cut.
I am finally moving into an apartment, on the third floor in a block of flats. It has a balcony that looks over the (rubbish strewn) sea and a shared pool that looks very murky. I’m living with Rachel from south Sudan, she is a nutritionist in her late 40's. The apartment wasn't furnished so we had to buy everything, even a cooker, fridge and bed etc. Rent and supermarkets are expensive here, the same price you would expect to pay in Europe, which continues to surprise me. You can order a big plate of rice and fish for 1 euro, and that’s about all I eat at the moment. Rice, bread and miniature bananas.
The currency here is very funny. There are no coins. And each note is worth 50p. So when you go to do a shop that costs £40, that’s a stack of 80 notes. And rent, which you have to pay 3 months in advance, that’s a whole rucksack of money!
Anyway, it was lucky that we found someone who was leaving so we bought all the furniture in one go, but we had to get it from their flat to ours. I can’t tell you how they piled up this pick up truck and the bumps and holes that we went over on the road, I couldn’t believe nothing fell off! And someone was sitting on top of it all.It’s really hot and I don’t know how everyone manages to look good in the office. My hair is not coping so I've given up altogether trying to control it. The people in the office are really nice. They are so friendly and they have such interesting backgrounds. And the people in the streets are friendly too, everyone says hello and they’re not interested in you that much, except the kids who run up and help you with your bags. They were so grateful when I gave them the only note I had, the equivalent of 50p to share between 4.... moments like that are special.
Bonjour!
I have made it to 5 weeks here... it does feel like a lifetime. This city is hard to like! I thought that you might like to know what I am up to day to day here and a bit about my role with WFP.
After a night’s disturbed sleep of generators buzzing, dogs barking, the morning prayer from the Mosque (Guinea is 85% Muslim) and the cockerel, I wake up at 6:30. I take breakfast at home, (bread and jam, fruit) whilst we watch the BBC World News then I walk to the office which takes about 10 minutes.
I quickly check through emails before our daily meeting at 8:30 which is for the key members (and then me!) in the Ebola Response. There are about 15 of us plus an extra person every week; security, health adviser, HR, finance, logistics, airport staff... we go around and say our key priorities for the week/day. On Monday by noon I have to get the internal and external situation report out to the West Africa Regional Office (based in Senegal, Dakar) which means rounding up all the information, it’s about 6 pages long. I normally start on a Sunday evening.
All Fruits and Veg In Chlorine
The rest of the week I have to give regular updates to UNMEER (United Nations Mission for the Emergency Ebola Response), write media messages (an outline of our activities for the week, how much food we’ve distributed, if there are any new treatment centres opening), donor relations, which involves meeting with our donors (Japan, China, USAID, World Bank) and discussing what visibility they would like for example having their flag printed on a bag of rice. I have to go to the airport and the port to take photos of cargo arriving. In between that, I have to keep our fact sheet updated, check on the order for new signs/ vehicle stickers/ flags and other visibility material. I’m always chasing people, it’s quite testing on your patience! I had asked a driver to deliver some flags urgently, making it very clear of when they had to go and who to. The next day the box was by the door and he was looking at me blankly... it’s the second time it’s happened...my french isn’t that bad! You have to babysit a lot of people. What I’m finding interesting is the amount of new staff we employ, there is no time to invest in training so do you deploy experts who come and go, or find local staff who you must babysit but won’t it be better in the long term? It’s a conundrum. There’s not enough time in the day. There’s always something to do and I tend to not leave the office until about 7ish. For lunch it is either rice with fish or a baguette.
I’m now settled in my apartment and have taped up all the holes to stop cockroaches entering (Argh! Thanks Dad for packing duck-tape for me). I have also set up a local bank account. To do this they asked where I lived (next to Bar Loft) where I work (next to supermarche bobo) and the names of my parents. I then had to sign my signature two times identically. When I went back to the bank last week to collect my cheque book I had to sign and my signature didn't match up so they made me tippex it out and re-do it!
Another experience was going to a market. It was so hot and busy and colourful. You could buy anything there. I came back with a curtain pole which is just what I needed. Lots of cats running in and out of the stalls, jumping on the smoked fish, and babies sleeping on the tables, and on top of bowls of fruit, their eyes half open because of the heat. I’m not sure I will go back soon. It’s difficult for us to buy food during the week because of work so we send our cleaner to a local market, which means it’s a lot cheaper, as they of course put up the prices for us.
Last weekend, we walked across the beach, passing piles of rubbish, and kids playing football (everywhere you go they are playing football) and people jogging with such funny arm gestures, such as running with two dead arms by their sides! Or running with one arm in the air. A lot of footy teams are doing exercise along the road but the drivers are so erratic I don’t feel brave enough to run. We found a ‘beach bar’ and watched the sun set and a distant storm. They were playing some nice African music and then this man approached everyone with a little banjo singing a terrible jingle right in your ear, and he only went away when you gave him money! I thought this was a clever idea, I think he earned quite a bit. Apart from the fact the sewage was running past us into the sea... it was good to be out of the office/ apartment bubble. It’s not really a good idea to take a taxi so it limits us an awful lot. We have drivers at work but we can’t use them at the weekend.
Hope that gives you a bit more of an idea of life here in Conakry! 2 more weeks and counting and I get a week of rest where they pay you to leave the country, I can’t wait.
Not exactly like St Barts
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Also see: The Mathematics of Ebola
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