Harmattan

We’re smack into the middle of the harmattan season. Madeleine is talking about a nasal irrigation treatment (amazing what one reads in the Oprah Magazine!), while the only treatment I’m thinking about is a cerebral irrigation. Harmattan happens in the dry season when a good portion of West Africa is subject to strong winds coming down from the Sahara, and bringing with it sand and dust. Haven’t seen a blue sky for awhile and every day is hot, dry, and hazy. Obviously, this is not doing Madeleine’s sensitive nasal passages any good, especially since our stint in Saudi Arabia where her sinuses got a beating and consequently, she's been sensitive to dust ever since. Hence the nasal irrigation. As far as my need for a cerebral irrigation is concerned...well, my mind and spirit have also been kind of dry and hazy these past few weeks. Can’t blame it on the weather though, its more of an andropausal thing, if you know what I mean. But, life goes on.

Since the last post, its been rather quiet. No riots, no burning tires, no malatov cocktails to speak of. I suppose the 2nd most exciting thing that’s happened in the past 10 days has been getting my hair cut by Madeleine. Goes to show how exciting things are here in our modest abode in the middle of nowhere. I still haven’t succeeded in finding a barber here in Conakry, other than one of my African bros who lives just across the street whom I once saw cutting another African bros’ hair. He has a makeshift barber shop in one of these dilapidated sea containers...actually barber shop is kind of pushing it...its a chair in a sea container and a guy with scissors going at it on someone's hair. I figured my coiffure was in better hands with Madeleine. I’m happy with the results.

Anyways, the 1st most exciting thing that’s happened to us since my last post happened unexpectedly last Friday. Hussein, one of our grade 10 students who happens to be the son of the Saudi Arabian ambassador, comes into my office, hands me his phone and tells me his father wanted to speak with me. Turns out, his Excellency wanted us to join him for lunch. Now, this is not the first time we got an invitation from the ambassador and unfortunately, every time we had to turn down the invitation, so even though going out for lunch with the ambassador meant infringing on our sacred Friday afternoon when Madeleine and I usually come home and crash like wet noodles on the couch, brain (as well as every other organ in our exhausted bodies) dead, and just sit there imitating slugs with attitude. I accepted the ambassador’s invitation. I asked Hussein if he was going to join us for lunch. He replied that no, he usually doesn’t have to attend those kinds of formal gatherings. Gathering!? Formal!? Who said anything about a gathering? I was under the impression Madeleine and I were just going to hang around and chill at the Saudi Arabian Embassy with his Excellency, like three antisocial arboreal mammals.

Got to the Embassy fashionably late, but not that fashionable because we were still the first ones there. The Ambassador welcomed us and brought us to the reception area where we sat down in front of a TV, turned on to the AlJazeera station, where we watched the whole of Egypt disintegrate into mass collective chaos. Made us feel right at home.

Our conversation with his Excellency was short lived due to the parade of nations that began with the sporadic yet constant arrival of the other guests. This necessitated us getting up and greeting each and every one of them...all 15 of them...all ambassadors...all men in suits. So there we were, Madeleine and I, the only non-ambassadors, non v.i.p.s, drinking orange juice and rubbing elbows with the ambassadors of the Ukraine, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, Morocco, Ghana, Algeria, Egypt, Brazil, and I forget from where else. Very interesting conversation, especially when all of a sudden, the conversation was interrupted by a loud cheer from Al Jazeera, where it had just been announced that President Muburak of Egypt had finally resigned. At that moment, I noticed that the Egyptian ambassador’s face turned white (as white as an Egyptian face can turn white). The poor fellow did not look well at all. I asked him what he thought of the news. He muttered he didn’t really know, it could be good, and yet it could be very bad. I almost told him that in a way, if it was bad, it would be good for me because I was just in the process of negotiating with a Canadian teacher who I wanted to hire to teach at our school, and who had already verbally accepted a contract at a school in Cairo, and who was waiting to see how things were going to pan out in Egypt before really deciding where she was going to go.... Anyways, I did not feel that was something that this poor fellow wanted to hear at that point in time.

Eventually, our host invited us to make our way to the dining hall, where we were met by a whole brochette of waiters dressed in white, and a long buffet table concealed by a superabundant amount of food. Again, very interesting conversation while munching away on our camel and goat skewers, especially when our friend the Lebanese ambassador started talking about the Palestinian/Israeli theatre of conflict. Things really got animated then. Conversation was getting louder and quasi heated, talking about the defense of the Palestinians versus the excessive force of Israel. And then, the Ambassador of the Ukraine saved the day. Excess in anything is never good, except in sex, he said. I’ve always liked everything about the Ukraine. I like their food, I like their dance, I like their music. Now, I like their ambassador.

After lunch, Madeleine and I excused ourselves saying we had another engagement to go to (couch) and noticed that as soon as we had decided to leave, everyone else seemed to also want to leave. Couldn’t help but wonder if these very important men go home and vege on their couches like the ordinary people do.

And that’s the kind of week its been. And by the way...that teacher decided to accept the job in Cairo.