like a poisoned apple

The container carrying all of our stuff arrived last Friday, full of promise. After two months of the extreme minimalist lifestyle, we welcomed the arrival of our possessions with glee. Unfortunately the joy was short-lived. Once we started opening the boxes and tearing the cardboard off the furniture it became clear that we had got more than we'd bargained for.

What we got was MOULD. Everywhere mould. Growing on the furniture, the clothes, the pots, pans and dishes, the pillows, the bedsheets, the mossie net, the computer, the books... the list goes on and on. The damn stuff followed us from Benin. After four days of solid scrubbing, there's still mould left to contend with. I HATE mould.

In a fit of determination to see the bright side of things, we turned our attention to the famed lion couch, which I had not yet seen fully materialised (for those who have no idea what I'm talking about, it's an over-the-top piece of custom furniture we had commissioned - but there'll be more on that in a future post, surely). Lo and behold, TERMITES! No kidding. Luckily there isn't too much visible damage, just a couple of small holes in an inconspicuous place. Hopefully we can find someone here who can deal with them.

feeling disconnected

It's funny which things remind one how cut off from the rest of the world one is when living in a place like Guinea. For me, right now, it's the Olympics. I admit, I haven't been glued to Olympics coverage since I was 9 years old and still dreamed of becoming a figure skater; yet, for some reason I feel like I'm really missing out this year. The fact is an Olympics hosted by China is more than just an international sports gathering; it's history. I'm twiddling my thumbs in Guinea and history's blowing right past me. *insert exasperated sigh here*

Thank goodness for the internet. At least I can read the news online, but too bad all the articles I'm reading are on things like how the Opening Ceremony fireworks were faked and so on. Well, I can honestly say that they didn't look particularly authentic or fake to me. But surely I can find some video coverage online? you ask. In theory, yes... if I want to wait two weeks for it to download. Don't even mention streaming video; our connection is far too sluggish. Just the other day T exclaimed, "Why is everything on the Internet a video!" Yes, why indeed. Oh, now I remember, because videos are fun... except for when they skip, stutter and stall every 3 seconds.

But then Russia invaded Georgia (or Georgia threatened Russians, depending on your perspective) and everyone forgot about the Olympics and felt just as disconnected from the 'truth' of things as me, and all was well again... or maybe not.

did i mention the sunsets?

I know I've said this before, but the sunsets in Conakry are truly spellbinding. Last evening T and I looked out our East-facing living room window to see a spectacularly red sky and knew that we had to make a dash to the other side of the peninsula to see the real sunset. It's only a short drive to the other side, but by the time we got there the best of it had already passed. Still, it was worth it. Next time we'll just have to be a little quicker. And there will be a next time - expect a whole photo-gallery of sunset shots on this blog before we leave. And no, I didn't Photoshop the colours ;)

snapshots on the sly

T may have a fancy new camera and the knowledge to use it, but what do you get? Photos from my camera phone. Sorry, but taking photos in West Africa is all about sneakiness and there's nothing sneaky about lugging around a giant camera. In the countryside you can get away with it, but here, in the "big" city, it's a different story. There are people to offend and police officers to bribe everywhere you turn. Still, there are so few photographs of Conakry on the web that I figured even these bad photos are better than nothing.

As you can see, I went for the drive-by technique again, though this time from a car instead of the bike, as the bike's still floating around somewhere on the high seas along with all of our other stuff. With any luck it will be here on Saturday, but I have my doubts.

Instead of another Peugeot 406 (a car, which in my opinion, has no business on this continent - Africa is where such cars go to die) T's got a big ol' Landcruiser, which is, at times, a little too big. For example, notice the traffic jam developing in the photo to the left. Well, moments after snapping this shot, we had the pleasure of involuntarily extending our stay in that street much longer than originally anticipated thanks to a stubborn man's refusal to back up his parked car (which he was sitting in the whole time) - yet another version of the waiting game so popular in West Africa. C'est la vie.

We were Sunday-driving, so the traffic was far more tame than usual, which is why there aren't so many cars in these pictures. Actually, there seems to be far fewer people in the city on Sundays as well. We have no idea where they all go - maybe to the countryside - but the streets feel refreshingly empty. As soon as it gets dark, though, the hustle and bustle has returned and you can feel the peace of the weekend slipping away.

Guinea's Top Ten

Hmm, after looking at my last few posts I'm starting to think that maybe I'm not painting Guinea in the best light, which is a shame because it really has it's merits. I'd even say I'm enjoying life here more than in Benin, though it's probably not a fair comparison to make as Benin was burdened with introduction-to-Africa status. So, in an effort to be more positive, I've made a quick list of the top ten things I like about Guinea right now.

10. Dogs... everywhere. They're only sorry strays, but they still bring a smile to my face.
9. Delicious, fresh fruit.
8. Giant bags of cheap spices at the grocery store, especially ones for making Indian dishes. I'm determined to learn how to cook Indian food... poor T.
7. Our cleaning lady, Ellen. My French is terrible, but we seem to understand each other in a way that Elisabeth and I did not.
6. The ocean view and sea breeze from the balcony.
5. The chance to get over my nervousness about speaking a foreign language by being forced to speak French.
4. A swimming pool just steps from the door.
3. Amazing nature and wildlife.
2. Sunshine, even in the rainy season.
1. Meeting the craziest people.