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Published: November 20th 2006
Black Eye
I realize this pic makes me look like I'm 8 years old, but it was the only one I had of the eye. Sadly this pic is not at the height of the swelling or colour, but you get the idea.Hi everybody!
Sorry I haven't had much news lately. The reason being; I've been back home! I am lucky enough to work for a company whose head office is in my hometown, so when I got sent there to develop some corporate policy with our execs, I was only too happy! Sorry I didn't mention anything sooner, but I was trying to surprise my folks, which I very happily did!
The whole thing went something like this...
On a Friday night near the end of October (after giving a presentation I'd been preparing for weeks) I attended a cocktail party for work, then jumped on a plane to come back to Canada. I was so excited to come back home and see my family and friends after 6 MONTHS straight on the African continent. I was a bit nervous of culture shock, and just not fitting in after so much time had passed, but still it was a trip home that wouldn't count towards my holiday since it was for work. After the excrutiating process of going through security (they do it twice in Ouaga; once by airport security, and once by Air France. I guess they don't have
Stackin' Wood
Do you like the duds? This is from a weekend I was helping my folks stack wood at their place in the country. What can I say? Heckston is a classy place! faith in the African security measures...) I boarded the plane happy to be heading home. I was lucky to be travelling with a French friend of mine who was joining me on the leg to Paris. As they started up the engines I was glad to be getting out of there. Then suddenly they all turned off, and there was an announcement saying that there was a small mechanical matter to be resolved but we'd be on our way in about half an hour. Half an hour? No worries. So I was off to sleep.
I woke up later, and one quick look outside told me we weren't on our way yet. I turn to my friend and ask her how long I'd been sleeping. "About 2 hours" she tells me. Apparently the "small mechanical matter" was bigger than they thought. The worst part was, we were all boiling because whatever they were fixing required turning off the AC in the plane. So let's recap for a second: a hundred people, no AC, rotting on the tarmack in a very hot country... As you can imagine, it was not a pretty sight, or smell! Finally, though (after 3 hours)
Sunday Best
My mom and me. Two classy dames in our Heckston Sunday best. we were on our way to Paris. The delay in Ouaga was just enough, though, that my plans to stop off in Paris to shop between flights were dashed. So an Australian mining colleague (whom I met at the aforementioned cocktail party) and I decided to make the most of it and have a beer. Sure it was about 11am in Paris, but it was noon somewhere! 😊
Fast-forward to landing in Toronto and being absolutely amazed at the culture shock. It's terrible, but I can't help but admit I was thinking "wow, look at all the white people!". I had brought a toothbrush for my teeth, and it took me a few moments to remember that using the tap water was safe here. I guess I've developped more habits than I realized.
Further fast-forward to my arrival in Ottawa. Home sweet home! I got a bit teary seeing Hans/Frans standing there waiting in arrivals for me. Thanks for picking me up, babes! Really it was an emotional moment to be home, knowing I'd be surrounded for the next 4 weeks by people who loved me after having been so alone for so long. I squeezed that girl something fierce! And then, like a good Canadian girl, I stopped on the way out for a Tim Horton's French Vanilla Cappuccino.
The plan all along had been to surprise my folks with my arrival home, but they weren't planning to be in that night. So the LK took it upon herself to make sure we went to the bar instead. Thanks to all of you who showed; it was a great night! Everyone was worried (including me) that I would be too tired or jet-lagged to have fun, but I certainly proved them all wrong! About 7 cocktails later I was still going strong, and even convinced Tom to come out with me at 4am for my first poutine since my arrival. You're a champ, Tom!
The next day, I managed to wake myself up in time to take the trip out to the country with Hans/Frans and scare the daylights out of my folks. We'd been planning it for months, and there was no way a hangover was going to stop me. Of course, we stopped for more Tim Horton's, and that helped immensely. As we were pulling off the gravel road onto the driveway, we caught a glimpse of my mom walking outside toward the garage. Nuts! She was going to ruin the whole surprise! So Hans/Frans, being the very clever girl she is, reamed my head into her lap (in a way that would have been highly objectionable had she been a man) and screamed at me to "get down!" Once I was out of sight, she pulled up to my mom to say hello, at which time I promptly sprang up and scared the wits out of her. Of course, once she realized who it was she started screaming and crying like one of those Americans who wins the sweepstakes. I could have been Ed McMahon.
So that was the beginning of a rather delightful but busy trip to Ottawa. The gist of it consists mostly of side trips: to Toronto, to Montreal, to malls, to bars. There were dinners, lunches, drinks, all consumed with the satisfied air of someone who has been away far too long and is glad to be back. Highlights of my time back home include:
-playing rugby in the championship match after having attended a single practice
-getting a black eye from a knee to the face during said match
-discovering that going to Dunn's at 4am instead of Elgin Street Diner results in better poutine and no waiting in line
-Halloween: dressed as a race car pit crew mechanic, watching all the slutty girls freeze!
-watching rugby on TV at TERP with commentary in ENGLISH
-practicing tackling tactics from Hedgecoe in the pub after the match
-eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, guilt-free
-cocktails that actually taste good
-comfortable beds
-home cooking. Full stop.
But, naturally, all good things must come to an end. Eventually I had to get back on the plane to the Motherland and get back to my... life? It's hard to tell at this point which is which. On the way back I met up with my running partner, Guy, in Montreal who was also heading back to Ouaga. On our layover in Paris we met up with a friend of his who took us on a tour (even though we'd both been there before) and we got to check out Montmartre and St. Germain des Pres. The weather was actually beautiful for once, and I finally saw how people might like Paris. I'd never been particularly fond of it, but when it's not cold and raining, it's actually quite beautiful. There was one particularly "film scene" moment when walking through the streets of Montmartre, when we looked up to the sound of music and saw an older gentleman playing the accordion from his window sill. I couldn't help but look up and give an appreciative smile; it was a truly lovely moment. If only he'd been playing "La Vie en Rose" then I'd know I was in the Matrix or something!
After our stroll we stopped for lunch at a French restaurant. It was French not only because it was in France (duh), but because it also served French cuisine. As I stared blankly at the menu (I read French but don't have much experience with their food...) I ordered the only thing I recognized: boeuf tartare. For those of you who know less about French food than I, that is "steak tartar" in English. Now, when I say I recognized this dish, what I mean to say is that I recognized its NAME. I had no idea what was coming on my plate and when it arrived I did my best to hide my shock/surprise. It was raw ground beef mushed into the form of a cylinder.
Of course, being my graceful and highly adaptable self, I wasn't about to let on how much this meal grossed me out, so I went at it with gusto. It actually didn't taste much like raw meat as it was heavily seasoned, but it was quite cold and the texture left much to be desired. The gusto wore off quickly. I moved on to the seasoned potatoes and salad that accompanied my fleshy meal, and once those were done I turned back to the task of eating as little as possible of the meat while appearing to have eaten much of it. Worst of all, I thought to myself "Goodness sakes, I've just eaten raw meat before a 7 hour flight...." and was suddenly filled with panic. This did a number on what zeal I had left, and I resigned myself to excuses of being too full and the food being too rich when the server came to take our plates away. I think it would have taken numerous glasses of Bordeaux to make that meal paletable!
Finally, after a long and excrutiatingly exhausting trip, Guy and I arrived in Ouaga on Saturday night. The familiar heat and smell of the city welcomed us, and as I walked down the stairs from the plane to the bus that would take us to the terminal, I resented being there. I suddenly hated this place, with its heat and its stink. I hated that it kept me from my family, and I hated that I lived here.
I got to the guest house, and I saw Bernie, my sweet kitty who was glad I was home. We had tons of cuddles and I scratched him and petted him until I was sure he couldn't stand it. But he stood it. He stayed in bed and behaved himself while I slept (seriously, who needs men?). I let him out at one point when he started getting restless, and then went back to sleep. When I finally woke again, it was dark out. I wandered out of my room in a sleepy haze and asked what time and day it was. It was 7pm on Sunday night. I'd been sleeping for 20 hours. At that point there was clearly only one thing I could do: have a shower, and go back to bed.
So here I am now, Monday. I'm hating Ouaga less now, I'm glad to say. I guess after 20 hours of sleep one feels prepared to face anything. My first trip back to Canada was amazing and helped recharge my emotional "batteries", but it also made coming back here that much harder. I'm sure that now I'm back into my routine things will be better. The weather is cooling off since winter is coming (only around 30 degrees now), and work keeps me busy and distracted. The honeymoon is really over, and the stars in my eyes for Africa have lost much of their twinkle.
For the moment anyway.
Adventures have a way of turning themselves around at a moment's notice...
Much love,
-Brownie
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roselle
non-member comment
hey babe, i know it gets rough at times but know that you're in the thougts of everyone who loves you here on the north american continent!!! miss you like that cow missed being cooked! mwah!