Buds with the Ambassador

Saturday morning and rain is falling like sheets of water...non stop. People say (or like to believe) that it rains a lot in Vancouver....NOT. This is my first time living in a real tropical region of the world and I continue to be impressed at the amount of water that falls from the skies. I can just imagine what it must sound like in all those tin roofed shacks that surround our apartment bloc.

Today is the Boxing Day of Eid Al Fotor...Christmas for the Muslims. And what a Eid Al Fotor it was! The day for me started early with the 5 AM usual prayer call from the National Mosque (which happens to sit just barely 300 metres from our place) combined with the unusual sound of distant drumming coming from who knows where. Eventually, very soon and very quickly, the street in front of our place became animated with people, dressed in their Aid Al Fotor best, men, women, and children, walking around, visiting with their neighbours, socializing, generally having a good time, even though it was fairly early in the morning, especially a holiday morning. This disneyland-main-street-usa atmosphere in front of our bloc lasted pretty well all day and was entertaining to watch. Went out for some bread around noon, and quickly sensed the carnival ambience that seemed to have permeated every square inch of Conakry...even Ashram's hole-in-the-wall bakery. Everyone I met, adults as well as children, wished me bonne fête.

Madeleine and I were invited to the Saudi Ambassador's residence for an Aid Al Fotor celebration. This was a first for us. Although we had lived in Saudi Arabia for 3 years, we had never really gotten into any of the local customs or traditional muslim holidays. Our muslim experience in Saudi was limited, to say the least. We seemed to have a lot of days off from school because of various religious muslim holidays (Muslims have the upper hand over us infidels when it comes to the number of religious holidays during a school year) and subsequently spent quite some time lounging around the compound pool while taking in the soft, far from cacophonous sounds of prayer from the various and numerous mosques surrounding our compound. Always did like the soothing sound of prayer in Riyadh and I like it here too, even the 5AM wake up call. It is safe to say that my past limited involvement (standing around a pool in my speedo listening to prayer) in islamic culture and religion will not get me remotely close to those seven virgins up in heaven when I decide to depart from this earth, but, I may be able to redeem myself during my séjour here in Guinea. 80% of the people here are of muslin faith and, Muslim or not, everyone is invited to partake in Eid Al Fotor, unlike in Riyadh where segregation between Muslim and infidels is strictly enforced and adhered to.

We arrived at the Ambassador's residence early, around 5h20. Bivan had misjudged the traffic situation, having estimated that it would take us an hour to get to our party destination due to the holiday traffic. There were a lot of people walking around, some traffic, but nothing like the usual chaos and bottlenecks that we encounter on regular week days. Bivan is usually very astute and right-on about these things so I asked him why there wasn't any traffic. He muttered something about bandits, excited children, and being scared, then admitted he didn't know...but I'm sure by Monday morning, he will have come up with an explanation for the reason behind the lack of grid-lock on the evening of Eid Al Fotor.

Not necessarily wanting to be the opening act of the Eid Al Fotor celebration, Madeleine and I debated whether or not we should stay in the car for a while because our precocious arrival made us extremely unfashionably early. Did not discuss for very long because the saudi guards (real tall and mature men in impressive black uniforms, armed to the teeth but not as menacing looking as the prepubescent army guards that we see all over Conakry, guarding who knows what) opened our doors and politely pointed to the gate that would lead us into the residence. We were met at the door by Hussein, the Ambassador's son and also a student at our school. Hussein led us to the living room, a vast room with sofas lining all the walls. There was food (chocolates, dates, juice beverage, hard candy) lying all over the place. Hussein explained that his dad was at prayer and he would be down any minute. We ate dates and drank juice, and really had no idea what to expect.

The Ambassador finally arrived and sat down. Pleasant man, he and I had a connection already going since the day I told him that we had spent 3 years in his lovely country...and his son was a charming young man with lots of potential. People started to arrive, which interrupted the conversation between the Ambassador and I, but once the formalities over, our tête-à-tête continued. He wanted to know what brought me here...if it was a posting by choice or not. Finally understood what he was getting at...why on earth did we end up in Conakry when there are so many other better places in the world where one could go work? He more or less insinuated that he was here not by choice, but that he lucked out and got assigned Conakry. He wanted to know if it was the same for me. I told him no, Conakry was a posting by choice for both Madeleine and I.

At one point I started to feel uneasy that I was monopolizing all of the Ambassador's attention and was trying to bring other people into the conversation. My new found friend even invited Madeleine and I to go on a road trip with he and his son...something about a day trip to some waterfalls 55 kilometres from Conakry. He wanted to go tomorrow. I said that until the elections happened, the US Embassy strongly recommended that we not travel too far. He let me know that he always had two armed guards with him when he left the residence. I told him I had Biven. He laughed and we left it at that.

By 7PM, most of the guests had arrived, and we were escourted to dinner. We made our way to the dining hall, via the inner courtyard, which in passing looked very similar to what we have in Vancouver in our yard, except that instead of brickwork on the ground, they have marble, instead of an artificial-but-looks-almost-real water feature (which I got on sale at RONAs), they have a pool with fountain, and instead of having a cement statue of David, they have a half dozen marble statues. And, oh yeah, almost forgot. The garden is ocean front. Like I said, almost the same.

We are led into a vast dining room (the word room is an understatement here) and quickly sat down. Interesting dishes...all have the Saudi Arabian emblem. Made a comment to the Ambassador that his dishes were very similar to the dishes we had at the White House...at least they were similar to the ones I had eaten on the last time I was there. He didn't laugh. Either he thought that I was saying Obama's dishes were as nice if not nicer than his, or he just didn't get my joke.

There was food everywhere...three long tables, appetizers, entrees (goat meat and lots of couscous) and of course, sweet arabian desserts. Although we were at least 12 people sitting around the table, it was a very quiet and subdued dinner. As soon as you put your fork down, your plate was whisked away and you had to go get another one. Houmous was especially delicious, felt like eating it with a spoon like thick soup. Madeleine told me that that would not be appropriate. She gallantly munched away at the goat and the unidentified orange vegetables. The Ambassador hardly said one word throughout the meal. This lasted a good hour and once I got used to the quiet ambience, I took it all in as a Eid Al Fokor experience.

After the main meal, it was back to the great hall for tea and some more sweets, and a bit more idle chatter. After a while, I turned to Madeleine, and before I even got a chance to ask the question, she blurted out when do we know that it's time to leave?. Did not want to leave before the celebration was over...that would be a faux pas, and I figured after the Obama's dishes comment, I was already on thin ice. Was there another act to this evening? Dance of a 1000 veils seemed appropriate. All this while, my mind was on poor Bivan, who was waiting for us in the car. He had told us that if he did not leave Conakry by 10PM, he would have to sleep in the car, otherwise he would get mugged on his way home.

Finally, I got up and went to the Ambassador, shook his hand and told him how much we had enjoyed the evening. Also told him that I would take a 'rain cheque' on his offer of a road trip to the falls. He looked at me puzzled, like only a Saudi ambassador can look puzzled, and said 'rain cheque'? I had to explain to him what taking a rain cheque meant. While this was happening, everyone else in the room got up and got ready to leave. I guess I was he exit instigator because eventually, everyone left at the same time.

Bivan was happy to see us and assured me that he would probably make it home before the 'bandits' came out. Madeleine sat contented in the back seat, sleepy after having consumed all that goat (is there serotonin in goat?), and I, well, I was also very happy with my evening. I had taught the Ambassador of Saudi Arabia the meaning of taking a rain cheque. And that was our first ever Eid Al Fotor....something to write home about.