withoutborders

Today is an important day, today, I am celebrating my third month in Sierra Leone!!

It's Friday afternoon, I am standing on the chair in the office shouting to Sharif;

"Sharif, I am happy, I am happy today.."

Sharif stares at me, smiles carefully, it takes him a few seconds to realize that I am serious. He takes my hand, pulls me down from the chair and starts to dance:

"Njaje (my Mende name) happy...we dance!! Njaje, why you happy? You find a man, Njaje getting husband??"

I let go of Sharif's hand:

"NO Sharif, I..ME..Setareh ,Njaje, is happy! I feel very happy today, I am happy in Bo!!"

Sherif looks confused. We dance for short while before he leaves my room.

I have lived the mission life for THREE MONTHS. I am FINALLY half-way...FINALLY "half"-way and half-finished... I stare out of the window and get quiet...half-way means half done...it means three more months..only...

Three months ago, I used to look up to my "experienced" colleagues. Each goodbye dinner was painful on it's own. The questions would never end, the panic would be a constant reminder. Will I EVER reach this day myself? When will "I" buy the goodbye-biscuits, soft-drinks and crisps for the national staff, spreading thank you speeches around me? When will I leave my email address on the board for my successor?

Suddenly, I am half-way there!! I am HALF-WAY through?? Does this mean that I should be half-done? Or half- satisfied, cause I don't think I am!

I have been here for 93 days. Most days have felt like an "eternal-eternity". My days used to start with count-downs; how many days I have been here, how many days left till my vacation, till my birthday, my end of mission...but once all these eternal days were added together into complete weeks, they passed on a fast forward mode.

When did this happen, when did I move away from the surviving mode to the fighter mode?

I don't know, I only know that time has passed and I have grown.

Yesterday I had a strange feeling, quite surreal to be honest. I was standing on the balcony, overlooking the compound. The white "peace-promoting" Toyota Landcruisers, the half-asleep guards by the gate, the children outside of the compound shouting "Poomoy, Poomoy (white man, white man), what is your name.."

My Italian manager steps in to the office and shouts the Italian-English phrases I hear about fifty times on a regular working day:

"I'm sorry but...why your men never do job in right time...I not understand...in Congo, and yes, I live in Congo 15 years, in Congo we never...!"

I see his motions but I can only hear him vaguely in the background..in fact, I don't want to hear him, I don't want to be thrown out of this moment. This is the first time in three months that I feel a touch of satisfaction. For a very short moment, I even feel proud!!

The annoying daily problems and obstacles have become my security, the answer to the big mystery: WHY I AM HERE. They are holy ceremonies making life worth while.

I work as supply manager today. Far away from the hungry children. The office is hot and humid, my staff highly educated and inflexible. In the hospital, I used to be appreciated, my staff listened to me, they taught me Mende and gave me ground nuts and pineapples as gifts and appreciation. I was presented to their mothers, the holiest family member...In the office, the tensions have been high, I wasn't supposed to be here, I am one expatriate too much.

It's called FLEXIBILITY, the slogan of MSF!! I changed my position over a day, from being a logistician of a proud and motivated team, to supply manager for a half-destroyed team.

But I did it, I survived, and one day, I woke up and started to enjoy.

Now we talk about their families, we go to the saloon together, I give the guys advice in love and relationships..they laugh and think I am a crazy poomoy, but it's ok. This is the distance we need in order to learn from each other.

Thank you all for your emails and supportive messages. I know that you want me to write more about life in Bo, you want to know how I am living, feeling and growing.

But this is the best I can do. A few lines, a few pictures...a half finished blogg.

It is a big mess in my own head, and sometimes, I manage to put it down into words.

Hope you vacation was good!

Love

Njaje from the field

PS. Keep sending your comments on my blogg, it's highly appreciated J

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