This Should Say Something

I had a chat with the Yemen head project guy (YHPG), and it turns out that I will be needed in Yemen for January (all of it) and most of February. Which I’m not excited about. He said that, after that, I could come to Paris and work on it with the project manager for a few weeks, and my first thought was “forget that – I want to go home”. So that’s how much I want to get off the road for a while – I would gladly forego a few weeks in Paris, with someone else picking up the tab for me the whole time. The plus side of being here is that I could take the train over to London on a weekend or two to see Stephen, Annette, and the kids, which would be really great. But yeah…don’t know about that one.

Funny – although he had said nothing to me about how my “I must be home for Christmas” edict was an issue, I went to dinner last night with him and the project manager. When I said that my first trip would be for only two weeks, the project manager said “you can’t stay longer than two weeks?” and I said “no, I’m sorry, but that’s not possible”, then YHPG chimes in “well really, the 15^th is ten days before Christmas”, and I said “yes, but I have family coming in from out of town on the 17^th, and I’ll need to be conscious for their arrival – it’s simply not possible.” That’s only a slight exaggeration, as my grandmother is coming to visit, but she’s not staying with me and she’s arriving after the 17^th. But I didn’t feel like explaining post-Thanksgiving. I did, however, think that was a little lame – not saying anything until that moment to try to put me on the spot. But my thoughts on that are that if my schedule doesn’t work, then they can send someone else. No problem for me. One thing that is interesting is that our client hasn’t seen my CV yet, so it’s possible they might reject me, and then all of this could be a moot point anyway. Although, if that’s a real possibility then perhaps they shouldn’t be buying my plane tickets. But again – that’s not going to be my issue to sort out if that’s what comes to pass – I think they’re planning on using me anyway.

Right now I’m sitting here in the lobby of my hotel, and Mom and Dad haven’t arrived yet – apparently their flight was delayed. It seems to have been delayed considerably, so I’m not sure what’s going on, as I have no working cell phone and no internet access at the moment. I’m sure they’ll arrive soon, but it’s not a good start for them, to have their flight all messed up.

The trip back here from Hanoi was interesting – I arrived at the airport ridiculously early, because I’d already checked out of my hotel and didn’t really have anywhere to go. Since I was so early, I had to wait around for three hours before anyone would check me in, which made me super happy. I grabbed a seat near the counter, pulled out my book, and waited. Soon this enormous Vietnamese family came over and decided that they all had to sit right next to me on that bench. So, they were all cramming onto the bench, and I scooched over a little to try to be nice. The matriarch of the family was sitting next to me, and I could tell that I was the topic of some conversation. Out of nowhere, she reaches over and starts rubbing my leg as I’m reading, saying something, I s’pose, about me. Possibly how they’d be able to fit a lot more people on the bench if my big American butt weren’t occupying so much of it. Nonetheless, I kind of gave her a “what on earth do you think you’re doing, Lady?” look, and they all chuckled. I went back to reading my book, highly irritated by this time and determined that I wasn’t going to move. One of the girls, who was about school age, decided that she wanted to practice her English with me, which was unfortunate because I just wanted to read my book. So, 20 feet from a massive clock, she would ask me what time it was, then was commenting, I think, on the book I was reading. I say “I think” because I could barely understand her, but that didn’t stop her from constantly interrupting my attempts to read. Had I been less tired and/or less irritated, I probably would have been more indulgent, and as it was, I was polite, but I just didn’t have the energy to be anything more. We were finally allowed to start checking in so I lined up with what felt like several hundred other people, and was chatting idly with a nice French woman who was returning home from her vacation. I finally got up to the counter, I checked in my bags, then the girl at the counter looked at my carry-on, the same carry on that I’ve been taking with me for months on different trips, on different airplanes, all with no problem, and she said that I couldn’t take it on the plane. I said that it hadn’t been a problem to take on the way to Vietnam, from Paris to Hanoi, and she said “no, you can’t take it, it’s too big.” So she hauled it up onto the little scale and said “oh…and now you’re over your weight limit for baggage, so you’ll have to pay a fine.” To say that I was indignant doesn’t half cover it, especially when that fine turned out to be $255. Again, work should pay for it, but MAN was I hacked.

We made our way onto the plane and I settled into my seat. Vietnam Airlines is a perfectly nice airline, decent seats, and coach even has decent leg room, and I managed to get several hours of sleep, I think, so that was nice. I’m not exactly enamored of their customer service, but they’re not too bad. The flight was uneventful, but there were two strange things that happened as we came in for our landing: first, they fumigated the plane, I think because of some World Health Organization regulation, but the flight attendants were walking down the aisles with these spray cans of some anonymous substance that made me start to cough. Second, they told us that we didn’t need disembarkation cards to enter France. Well, after an hour of standing in line, it turned out that we did need those cards. Basically what happened was that they ran out and told everyone else we didn’t need them. So a group of about 30 of us were stuck – the guys at immigration wouldn’t let us through, the police, to whom they told us to speak, said that we needed to talk to Air France, and Air France said that we weren’t their problem and that they didn’t have the proper cards for us anyway. After going from place to place about 3 times, the people at Air France finally came up with an acceptable substitute. We got through immigration, and I ran to get my bags which were about to be bundled off somewhere, since they’d been circling on the carousel for about an hour or more, by that point.

I found an ATM (“s’il vous plait, ou se trouve un machine de banque?”), and found a cab, and was off to Paris, finally. My taxi driver was a very nice man – used to be a French interpreter for the Chinese government, and was offered a place in France after Tienanmen Square by the French ambassador in China, which he gladly took. So we were chatting amiably in French, and I was delighted to be heading toward my hotel, even if I’d have to move to a different hotel the next night. (The place where I was staying with my parents couldn’t take me for an extra night.) I checked in and wedged myself through the door with my absurd load of bags. After showering and beginning to feel human, I went to the office. Eventually. I got confused about the address and walked about 10 times the necessary distance to get there – which was further confused because nothing was marked – like the address or the office itself. However, I finally found it and climbed the stairs. The door was locked so I knocked on the door, and was delighted when D came to the door. We settled into her office and she and I were catching up. It was so nice to see a familiar face, but even before then, I was just so glad to be in France and walk down the street anonymously.

I made it through a full day at the office, much to my surprise, and even made it through dinner, and barely made it through a drink with D. I think it took me all of 2 seconds to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, however.

Tick Tock

I’ve just checked out of my hotel and they’re storing my bags for me until I come back for them before heading for the airport tonight. Eek! Itsy Bitsy’s mother works for Vietnam Airlines, and has offered to be helpful to me with getting my mountain of bags into the air, for which I am very grateful. If no one gives me grief about my carry on, I should be within the limits – 2 checked items, one carry on, and one “personal item”. I am the first to admit, however, that it looks truly ridiculous for me to be waddling around with all of my bags. If I saw me, I’d laugh. Instead, I try not to swear, somewhat unsuccessfully, as I wrestle with the bags. It’s fine, though – I’ve had a lot of clothes made here, which still counts as shopping, I suppose – so I’ve got to get it all home somehow. I don’t know that I’ll be shopping as much in Yemen. I’m sure they have lovely things there, most of those really cool, old, ancient-world type countries do – long histories of arts and crafts and all that. But first of all, the two week trip isn’t enough for me to really do much shopping as I’ll be working all the time. Second of all, I have a feeling that my mobility will be quite limited, so popping down to the market on the weekends isn’t likely to be as easy to do as it is here.

Anyway, now that it appears to be definite that I’ll be going, I have to really try to be as positive as I can about it. Any support for this not-very-easy task would be appreciated. I mean – we all have a hunch that this could be sucky, that’s not a newsflash to anyone. So a little help inventing a bright side, or at least not dwelling on the potential suckiness and danger, would be great. Because it is an interesting country, with an interesting history, and I’m sure that most ordinary people I meet will be like most of the ordinary people I met in Pakistan – quite nice and curious. People are so different at macro versus micro levels, after all. (I could get all philosophical about “us and them” versus “me and you”, but I won’t. I’ve been noticing a disturbing trend of mine to get preachy-sounding lately. Sorry ‘bout that.) Besides, going in with a really negative attitude is only going to make things worse, since those tend to function as self-fulfilling prophecies.

Thanks to my mom making a few phone calls for me, I’ve got an appointment for a massage the day I leave. I don’t think things will be as hectic as last time on the day I’m leaving, and I’m really hoping I don’t crack my chin on the door again, since that wasn’t fun. But since I’m taking the tiny suitcase as mentioned, it shouldn’t be such a problem – no 70+ pound behemoth to wrassle with. The tiny suitcase could well be *full*, but there’s just no comparison. Back to the massage, however, I’m very excited about it – it will make the long journey a little more comfortable.

I just thought of something. How on earth am I going to get my visa for Yemen in time? Well, I suppose that’s for someone else to worry about. Maybe the Paris office can do it for me while I’m there? Hmm…

Wasting Time

I’m really not wasting time, actually, I’m getting some good stuff done. Mapping, report writing. Although, mostly mapping. The good thing, however, is that my trip reports already address the majority of issues I need to write up for my sections, so it could end up being a lot of cut and paste kind of stuff from what I’ve already written. Either way, it’s under control. Mostly.

So, the Yemen guy said that, with my approval, they want me there as soon as possible, meaning early December, preferably the end of November. Well, that basically means that I will, indeed, be turning straight around when I get home to go to Yemen. (And I think I’ll likely be flying Yemen Air, aka: Yemenia at some point. Why can’t my life resemble a Friends episode in *other* ways??) I think what I’m going to do is leave Nov. 30^th, arriving in Yemen on December 1^st, then heading home, no stopping anywhere this time, on December 15^th. And that, my friends, is enough to make my head explode. Really, and truly *explode*. It’s a good thing I got almost all of my Christmas shopping done over the summer – I’d never finish it otherwise.

Oh, how I wish I could fly business class, for the extra leg room. I also wish I could get danger pay, what with having actually read the State Department’s Travel Warning page about Yemen (Mom, Dad – don’t read it. It’s not going to give you warm fuzzies) and knowing that US Goverment employees there would. Neither one is in the cards, I feel, although I suppose I could ask. I know the danger pay is out – we’re only authorized to get that if we’re in Iraq or Afghanistan, but I’ll see what I can do about the other stuff (maybe at least United’s Economy Plus to Frankfurt?). Yemen is only 8 hours ahead of DC, so while that’s more confusing to remember than the nice and easy 12-hour time difference I’m working with here, it’s less to (re)adjust to. The good thing about the two-week trip is this: I have a chance to get the lay of the land, figure out what kind of work I’ll have to be doing, what kind of clothes I’ll have to wear (grrr…), and all that kind of stuff. So when I return, I can focus on work after having gotten my feet wet, so to speak.

It’s good, however, that I don’t think I’ll catch any grief about the time I need to be home – I reiterated it in an e-mail today, and while he didn’t explicitly say “that’s cool”, he didn’t say anything to the contrary. But my boss told me that he would back me up on that request, so that’s good to know. Hopefully, that won’t be necessary, but it’s always good to know you have support if you need it.

I am *so* bringing the tiny suitcase on this trip.

I’d best be getting back to my work now. Yeehaw!

Progress

I got a lot of my stuff packed last night, and finished the second report I was worried about. It still could use some more work, but with the data I have available, it’s pretty good. So now it’s a matter of, well, working my butt off to get everything finished, or finishable, this week, so I can enjoy my vacation, nice and guilt-free, next week. For the moment, I’m having some last-minute “oh crap!” kind of panicking. Things to write, things to pick up from the tailor, things to organize and condense. This is when I can start to have trouble sleeping, because my head will start buzzing with everything I have to do. This is also the time when my list making skills come in handy and kick into overdrive. (There are some good things about being so type-A, after all.)

I bought one gift that was too big to fit into my suitcase, so I had to make sure that the extra bag I bought was big enough to fit it. Wow, is it ever. This thing is enormous. There is absolutely, positively no way that all of my stuff will ever fill the bags I have, which is a nice feeling when contrasted with my “what-can-I-throw-out-to-get-the-new-stuff-all-home??” experience last time. Fortunately, my bags should all be under the weight limit so nothing to worry about there. (I say this now…)

The one day in the last several weeks that I’ve left my umbrella at the hotel has apparently coincided with the appearance of purple rain clouds hovering over the office, despite the bright sunny skies of this morning. Dang it. Well, I’m taking a late lunch, I’ll see if I can borrow someone’s umbrella. But I really should know better by now. And WOW, here comes the rain. It must be making up for not having rained much for the past week or so, this is unbelievable – and deafening, since we have metal roofs on our buildings here.

As seems to be typical for me when I reach the end of one trip and/or come to the beginning of another one, I am having the WORST time concentrating. My brain insists on flitting to the most random and silly topics, apropos of absolutely nothing, and all of a sudden I MUST occupy myself with whatever my brain has come up with.

Goodness.

I’ve got some errands to run at lunch (well, really just one errand), then I’ve got to grab some actual lunch for myself. Then it’s back here for the rest of my day. I leave in TWO DAYS! GAH!!!!

Communication Breakdown

A source of confusion for me lately has been the fact that the company in charge of arranging for my car and driver has given me a new person almost every single time over the past few weeks, sometimes twice in one day, without ever telling me. Occasionally, they’ll call Itsy Bitsy or Teeny Weeny and tell them, but that’s still rare. So that means that I have to guess which car and driver combo is mine, all through trying to communicate with someone who typically speaks almost no English, and then there’s me, still barely speaking any Vietnamese. It’s not a really great set-up, and Teeny Weeny has complained to the manager of the company several times about all the switches. As far as I know, it has nothing to do with me being a horrible and demanding bitch or something like that. At least, I would hope it has nothing to do with that, as I don’t think I have been.

I was running ahead of schedule this morning, the happy result of waking up about 45 minutes before my alarm, just because. I did a little exercise, although my partially shredded toe is a bit of a hindrance, then hopped in the shower, and went down to breakfast after getting dressed for the day. At about 8:10, my cell phone rang, and a very short and confusing conversation ensued:

Dude: Is Mrs. Amanda?

Me: Um…yes. Can I help you?

D: I am driver, I wait downstairs. You come now.

M: You are supposed to come at 8:30…I will be down soon. What car are you driving?

D: …I am driver, you come now!

M: But what kind of car? What color?

D: (silence)

M: What kind of car? Toyota? Mitsubishi? Color? Blue, white…?

D: …kind… car? I drive, you come now!

M: (wearily) fine, I will be down soon.

Now, let me say first, I really, truly do not expect any of these guys to understand a lot of English, but if you know that whoever you send is going to be driving a foreigner around, there are a few basics they should understand. Like when they say “What time come back?” and I say “5 pm”, then the manager, with his own tenuous grasp of English, calls me back 10 minutes later to ask what time, and also doesn’t understand what I tell him, so I have to put Teeny Weeny or Itsy Bitsy on the phone. I can even write it down, as I have on occasion, and that still doesn’t cut it.

Ah…life in za tropics.

So, one thing that I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet is the BYOTP bathrooms here at the office. I had to pinch a roll of toilet paper from my hotel room to bring with me to work, because I think that there has been actual toilet paper in the bathroom three or four days since I’ve been here. If there happens to be toilet paper and soap available on the same day, it’s like Christmas! Yee haw!

I got an e-mail about working on a project in Senegal, although I’d be a home-office based client manager, and possibly a substitute urban planner. Not that I have any grand illusions about Senegal being a fantastic and glorious place, it’s a country with problems like any other, but I would really like the chance to go there – it seems interesting and I’d like to get more work in Africa. But given my amount of “road time” lately, I would also be JUST fine staying in the home office and managing from a distance. It’s too bad I can’t swap Senegal for Yemen, though. But opportunities like this are part of why I want to do something like an intensive French course – I emphasized to the guy doing the proposal that I didn’t want to misrepresent my French abilities, they’re still limited, and I don’t think I could conduct business in French. (He’d asked me to emphasize my French skills, which is why it came up.) But I’d like some more work in Francophone Africa, hence needing the lessons.

But again – right now the only thing I really need is time at home to reconnect a little.

Two reports to get out today – one should definitely be done. The other….well, I’ll work on it tonight and have it ready for tomorrow morning. Then it’s time to haul butt for the final report! Gah!

You Want Me To Do What???

I just read the Terms of Reference and work plan for the Yemen project, and as I’ve said before, the work looks really interesting. It also looks extremely challenging, both in good ways, and in somewhat overwhelming ways. Regardless, though, it will definitely be a memorable experience. (How could it not be?) I’m not quite sure where they expect me to fit into the process, but I’m glad there will be a team leader in place. The task, given the state of development and services in Taiz, looks completely overwhelming. The infrastructure is completely inadequate, the city power supply fails 10 out of 13 days, access to clean water is extremely limited and getting more so by the day as the few reservoirs that exist are increasing in salinity and being polluted by unchecked development, there’s extremely high unemployment, and very low capacity in the local and regional governments. So, should be a snap to fix, right? Oh, and the majority of recommendations that were described in the original master plan from 1978 were totally ignored. So there’s not exactly a long and distinguished history of land use planning being all that effective.

I need to remind myself that I won’t be doing this alone, so it’s not likely to be quite so overwhelming in practice. I hope. I’m just curious to see what the division of labor will be. I know there’s a Syrian land use planner who is already on the project, so I would imagine that he and I will share a lot of work - I’ll find out about the rest in a week, I suppose.

My boss said that if I end up having to spend a lot of money on clothes, I can expense it, so that’s good. I think there may be some disagreements when it comes time for my expense report, but I’ll see how it goes. This would actually be the (only) good thing about taking a one to two week trip there in early December, I could get the lay of the land, so to speak, before I had to go back for a longer haul. My boss asked if I could wear the clothes I had made in Pakistan, and I said I’d bring them, but I didn’t think they’ll be appropriate, since Yemeni women don’t wear salwar kameez. Apparently, they’re too revealing. And from what I can see, bright colors are a big no-no. That rules out almost every single piece of clothing I had made in Pakistan. So we’ll see what happens. Like I said – it’s still very confusing for me at the moment. But I’m having a few pairs of very wide-legged pants made for me right now, so hopefully they’ll be suitably modest to get me through the first couple of weeks until I can get my bearings.

Have I mentioned yet that I hate that I have to think about things like this, instead of just doing my job? I wasn’t sure if I’d beat that point to death enough yet.

But apart from that, time keeps ticking away, and I’ll be home soon! I’m excited to see my nephews because I’m sure they’ll look so much bigger and so much more grown up than when I left even though it’s only been a couple of months, I’m excited to see my friends’ babies who were born right before I left, and I’m just excited to be part of my life again. I’m also glad that I’m not going to be away through the end of December, as I originally thought back in the summer. Although, when I think about it, this is turning out to be almost the same thing, especially if I go to Yemen for a couple of weeks. I am seriously in need of some down time, kids. I’m so grateful that I’ve got an opportunity coming up, and that it represents the end of my trip here, instead of a break in the middle-ish, as originally thought.

So, you know what’s not a great idea? Tripping on an uneven sidewalk, and tearing off part of the top of your big toe while walking down the street. Especially if you’ve got several blocks left before you get to your hotel and the footbed of your flip flops start to get slippery and then sticky from the blood. Yes, that’s gross, but if you think that’s gross, try cleaning it out and looking at it. Ouch. Looks like I’ll be wearing my running shoes for the next few days, eh? This is why I travel with a supply of Bactine and band aids, though. And Cipro, if it starts looking a little septic in a day or three. (Oh, I kid, I kid. I rinsed it out the best I could and have been spraying and re-spraying it with Bactine – I’m sure it’ll be fine.) But my lack of coordination is a nice constant in my life.