It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon in Luanda and I’m sitting in my living room, sipping on some green tea, post-brunch, listening to Sade and feeling fine. This past week has been one hell of a rollercoaster with the highest of highs and lowest of lows. Visitors, apartment issues, work craziness, beautiful beach lodges, pleasant dinners and conversations - I had it all this week.
One of my best friends from the Kennedy School decided to add some spice to his already spicy life by spending his holiday in Angola, and boy was I excited to have my first guest coming for visit. I was so excited for his arrival that I could barely sleep on last Friday night. He was due to arrive on Saturday at 4:20AM on the only weekly British Airways flight from London, so I arranged for our driver to pick me up at 4:45AM to fetch him. Like clockwork, I showed up at the airport and 10 minutes later, John emerges from the Arrivals door. He followed my instructions to a tee, fighting his way onto the 1st bus from the plane to the terminal, then going directly to the health officer for his Yellow Fever vaccine check. He cruised out of there like a Luanda veteran. The unlucky thing was that I didn’t inform Nadia of the same procedure and so we waited for about 1 hour for her to emerge. Nadia is the reproductive health commodities security (RHCS) consultant who worked with our partners at the department of public health last week. Anyway, it was not a big deal, and we were on our way to my apartment before 6am. I wasn’t sure if John was still have asleep or whether the scene was too much for him, but he clearly was surprised with where I lived. We got dropped off right in front of my apartment building, where the sidewalk is all broken up, with a mound of trash and a stench from the open sewer pipes. I think he also noticed a urine smell as we came up the stairs of the buidling. But, as soon as we entered my flat, he entered into my haven, my little world of clean, and peace and normalcy among the chaos of Luanda.
We managed enough time for a petit almoço and a quick packing job before Kelse, my good Angolan friend came to pick us up for our ride to Rio Longa Lodge. We made great time and by 10:30am, we were on a boat on the Rio Longa sipping Carlsberg beers on the way to the Lodge at the mouth of the river. John was so happy to be on the way to paradise, after an uneventful 3 hours’ ride, jamming to karaoke tunes on the iPod. Arbol, the tranquil boat driver from Namibia slowed the boat down twice to show us crocodiles in the distance. Yes!! We were definitely away from Luanda. When we arrived, we were greeted on the lodge terrace by Gramma Christine, complete with her flowery apron. She didn’t ask our names or reservation number, but sent us straight to cabin #1 to freshen up before the full calendar of the day… and the cabin was simple and delightful. The shower was a hit, with the overhead showerhead that felt like a rainforest rain (or I imagine such a thing to be). The beds, complete with wistful ribbony mosquito nets were the most comfortable in I’ve slept on in Angola, and the large candles gave the perfect rustic touch. John was all too excited to commit to a shoe-free weekend and promptly kicked his flip-flops off into the corner where they stayed for the duration.
We made our way back to the main lodge and eagerly jumped into one of the waiting kayaks for the 2 minute paddle across the river to the beach. It was just lovely. We walked a ways and then turned around and sat on the lounge chairs facing the crashing waves, sharing a Heineken kindly spared by some other visitors to the Lodge. At around 1pm, we heard Gramma Christine’s meal bell ring and we promptly paddled back over and feasted on a wonderful buffet lunch. It was to be the first of many fantastic meals prepared with love by Gramma. Paul a rugged South African who’s been in Angola for 14 years welcomed us to his table which he was sharing with Stion and Veronica, two of his colleagues in town for some business. Our lunch meal turned into a cool 4 hour conversation late into the afternoon, and after a few bottles of wine, several beers and an iced drink of Amarula, it was time for the next activity on the agenda - the afternoon nap. We paddled back to the beachside and plopped down on the chaise lounges one more time and watched the gorgeous sun set over the western horizon. [SIDEBAR: I think that no matter where I am in the world, my most favorite thing to to do is to watch the sunset. I am a West Coast girl at heart - in the US, Africa, whereever... so that could be a clue to where I am going next...]
We went back for a quick shower and freshen up before we were summoned for dinner. And what as beautiful dinner it was. Firstly, the dining room was completely lit up with candles - large and small ones, on the table and hanging from the ceiling, skinny candlesticks and thick ones. It was so elegant and simple at the same time. We feasted and finished yet another bottle of wine before I was practically falling asleep at the table. Poor John, still running on adrenaline wanted to stay up and chat well into the night, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes open and crashed out into a deep, complete slumber.
The next two days were filled with more of the same - Gorgeous meals, bottles of wine, long walks on the beach with great conversation, naps, and I added early morning meditation and yogas sessions, and even managed a run on the beach. One afternoon, Arbol treated us to a boat tour along the river to the mouth opening into the ocean. It was simply gorgeous and so peaceful. The many pictures I took of the root trees along the river shores were taken during our mini tour.
I could see that John was visibly decompressing and melting into the beach landscape and getting farther away from the hustle and bustle of his London life. For my part, it was also my decompression time from Luanda life. He seemed so impressed by the landscape and the ease of life. I had to warn him that the smoothness of his entrance into Angola is a rarity and should not set his expectations for the rest of his stay….And, this reality hit him when we were sadly delivered back to civilization by Arbol and the boat and our ride back to Luanda was not there when we arrived. Just before we had left the lodge, Gramma told us that Paul (from the first day) had called her to tell her that our ride would be a little bit late and to not go back on the boat until 3:30p. We thought this odd, but somehow comforting. John asked me whether I thought the ride would come and I sensed the beginning of what would be a bit of a challenging time for him. One of the hardest lessons that I’ve learned in Angola is that you do your best to plan, and either things happen or they don’t. And when they don’t then you make new plans, but until that happens when you must make other decisions, there is no use worrying, anticipating, or questioning. Kelse finally showed up, but in someone else’s car.
We sped back to Luanda while Kelse explained to us that his own car broke down on his way back from dropping us off at Rio Longa (and boy did I feel bad). When he realized that his car wouldn’t be ready to come and pick us up, he called Paul hoping to borrow his car, not knowing that Paul had even been in Rio Longa or that he had met us. So, that’s how it happened that Paul called us and Kelse came to fetch us in Paul’s car. By the time we made it back to Luanda, it was dark and of course we were greeted by the usual trials and tribulations of my life - no water, no electricity and a still-busted generator. So, we changed, and headed across the street for a drink at the Tropico Hotel. Kelse came by for us and we met up with Paul and another friend, Denis for a light supper and tough conversation about the state of Angola today. I was surprised at my strong reaction to Kelse and Denis when I asked them the following question: what do you as Angolans think of the presence of the UN in your country? I asked because certainly the government seems quite ambivalent, or worse could care less whether we were here or not… Both Kelse and Denis said that it didn’t matter to them, that we should rather be asking the people in the rural areas (i.e. the poor people). I almost lost it. I said - that’s exactly the problem. When Angolans don’t identify with the poor of the country and give a damn about whether they are being helped or not. Why didn’t he say we are glad that someone is here to help the poor…. nope. Anyway, we also learned that night that Paul is one of those people that you want to know. He seems to know everyone and also how to get things done here in a town where things are nearly impossible to get done.
By the time we got back to the apartment, the power had come back on, but the water was a trickle. When my head finally hit the pillow, I realized just how much it would take to have company in this crazy place. BUT - it was and will always be so worth it.
Tuesday morning, I scurried out to the office and left John to his own devices. At work, we began daily meetings for the agenda of our partners planning workshop next week. My job boils down to capacity-building. There is a strong temptation to do all the work myself, but then when I leave this place, there will not be much to show for my efforts. Therefore, as much patience as I will need, the best strategy will be to share what I’ve learned with my colleagues here in Angola.
I had to deal with the notice that I got from some police-like authority who had slapped me with some sort of warning for the loud water pump. We called the owner of the apt to deal with the issue. And, of course, there were the usual things to deal - little things like work! Meanwhile, John was busy trying to arrange for a ride to the next beach that we were going to EARLY. One day of Luanda seemed ample for him, and he tried to arrange for a taxi service with the hotel. He felt quite accomplished by the end of Tuesday when he had worked out a ride on Wednesday to take him to Praia Sangano 2 days early. We met up with Iain and JB, both working for UNICEF, for a nice dinner at a little local restaurant a 3 minute walk from my apartment. Walking is not advisable at night and I wouldn’t do it on my own, but it was fine enough with John. We had a lovely conversation and John got a flavor for the UN life in the field, which is distinct from life at the HQ offices of New York, Geneva, the Hague, etc. JB had been in and thrives on the emergency, conflict posts, like Burma, Afghanistan, Somalia, Iraq, etc… And somehow, we is still smiling.
The next day, John was very excited to be going to the beach early, and so I left him in good spirits that morning. At work that day, I had a great session with my Portuguese teacher, where we had a long discussion about the state of Angola and the challenges that it faces as it attempts to develop and recover from 30 years of war. My teacher said that there are many characteristics of the Angolan culture that make development difficult and challenging, partly due to the war stance, which is still a part of the collective mentality, and also a strong adherence to hierarchical structure mainly predicated on economic relationships. In this environment, factors such as trust, confidence, honesty, integrity, which are keys to development are nearly impossible to cultivate.
Anyway, John was due to drop off my house keys at 2pm on his way out of town. When it turned 4pm and he hadn’t yet shown up, I started to worry. Finally, he phoned me and, in a strained voice which seemed barely under control, he asked me to get to the Tropico as soon as I could. I showed up just after 5pm and joined him for a quick drink. He looked like he was going to kill someone. Poor John had been ditched by the taxi driver who decided that it was too late to take him to the beach after showing up 2 hours late. I kicked into action and we came back to the apartment where he had a shower. In the middle of it, the water stopped and I heard John practically lose his marbles. I ran outside to turn on the water pump and the water flowed once again. When John was finished he said that he had never been so happy to be taking a cold shower in his life….ahhhh, the little lessons of Luanda…
We headed back to the hotel where we were set to meet the driver and take the car for a night out. We met up with Nadia, the consultant for a chinese food dinner at Asia. It was a good meal and an even better conversation about international development, aid, the inherently prescriptive nature of the work, the remnants of a colonialist perspective, and the challenges of inciting the political will necessary to make change in countries like Angola. One thing we all agreed on was the Angola and Luanda in particular, is on of the most difficult places to work IN THE WORLD. Thanks, thanks for confirming that :).
Once again, we ended up at the apartment totally spent emotionally, physically, psychologically. But it would be just one more day until we were headed back to the beach Yipee!!! On Thursday, Paul did all he could to arrange for a ride for John to the beach, and after all the arrangements were made, in the end we realized that I would be heading down in a car early Friday morning so there was not too big of a reason to leave now. So, John made a day of it. We had lunch at this very European cafe called Café Arabica, which was lovely and busy and felt like a normal place to be. We took a walk along the Marginal to the mobile phone shop to deal with my phone, then back to my office where I had a few more hours of work to take care of. John read, checked emails and even got a little shut eye. We finally took the car and ran one errand to buy an ironing board at InterMarket. When we got back to the car, I had a mini panic because somehow the car would not start. I called our driver and they came to our rescue. It turned out that I hadn’t disengaged the alarm fully hence the non-starting car. We were finally on our way to dinner at the Fortaleza, which was set in a lovely courtyard. The food was so-so but it was just so nice to sit, with a breeze, a bear and a steak. We were back to the apartment before 10pm, eager to pack and rest up for our early 6am departure.
Friday morning, we must have both been excited to get a move on because neither one of us could sleep too well. We were packed and in the car John with coffee and me with tea in hand for the ride to the beach. We stopped off to pick up Lone, the Chief of Communications for UNICEF and Linda in the HIV&AIDS group and we were on our way. It was the perfect time to leave…not a lot of traffic and just a general sense of tranquility in the air. I have so far failed to mention that the UN system had Friday as a holiday in honor of Eid, the end of the Ramadan period for the Muslims. So, we were celebrating it by going to the beach! The Nissan Maxima which I was driving got us to the beach and eating breakfast under the cabana before 8:30am! I was lovely and immediately relaxing. And, no one was more relieved and happy to be there than John. We did more of that same beach routine from the weekend before - nap, read, walk, eat and do it again. The scene here was a bit different - more touristy and potentially crowded, but it never really filled up. At the left end of the beach is a relatively sizable fishing village full of little kids running around. I think if one has to be poor, the best life is that in a fishing village along the beach. If only we could relocate the 3 million extra people crammed into Luanda to the beaches of Angola, this would be a much happier country…. Kim and Asa came to join us in the afternoon and we sat for yet another extended meal with lots of laughs and good conversation.
At dusk, we walked along the beach and watched the sun fade into the sky at exactly 6pm. I was sitting at the spot which would become my meditation rock everytime I come back to Sangano. Happy hour with iced Amarula and beers was followed by a light dinner and an early bed time. Saturday morning, I was greeted by a sickly John whose stomach finally realized he was in Angola. But he was a trooper and we went out to our cabana for another beachside breakfast. Some more napping, swimming and even a bit of work was had before we hit the road back to Luanda. We made it in good time, and headed for Baia, one of the nicer restaurant/bars in Luanda. Nadia joined us as did Kelse and we ate up two good pizzas (one with bananas!!! it was really yumm!!) and then headed to the airport, since Nadia and John were also on the same flight going home. We got them to the airport in plenty of time and we sat for one last drink at the airport bar. At 10:30p, we said our goodbyes and they entered into the immigration lines as Kelse and I exited the airport. We came back to my apartment where I changed and got ready for a night of dancing. I felt the need to let it loose and had a great time at a place called Miami Beach on the Ilha. I fought the tiredness and managed to stay out until just before 3pm. It was a good night and a good rest. And today has been a nice, quiet Sunday. In a while I will head out for a movie and some shopping at Belas.
So, that’s been the crazy rollercoaster week. So much in such a little amount of time. I think that this will define my time here. I can’t believe that I’m almost 1/3 of the way through!
Beijos!
Celina
