The Troops Arrive

Don't worry, not those kinda troops. More like reinforcements for my work here. One of them is my friend 007 in Africa. I was curious to how she would react to Kindu. She loves it. I can see why, there is a certain charm to it. It doesnt have the grit of Kinshasa, and there are a few colonial-esque buildings (you kinda have to squint to appreciate them). I think she was really expecting the worst for my apartment, so the fact that it wasnt some windowless shoebox made it seem lovely.

I think there is a different between staying and visiting, the difference between charm and annoyance. Luckily, this annoyance fades to resignation within a few months. Basically, there are things that will never change. It will never be quiet at night, water isnt going to magically flow from my faucets, the heat is here to stay, and the dating scene isnt going to pick up. Acceptance is key. Get over it, move on.

Our Roads manager has offered to teach me how to drive a motorcycle. I'm very excited. Might as well come home with new skills, whenever I do come. For now though, I am facing many challenges with planning activities in areas several hundred kilometers from Kindu. I've pretty much been flying solo with this up until yesterday, when our new base manager, 007 and a Kinshasa colleague arrived. I am nervous about the new base manager but things are fine. I've been working without a supervisor here for 2 months, so I'm used to just doing my own thing. It doesnt look like that's going to change, as I'm still in charge of the program management. Plus, I took a table from his adjoining apartment yesterday before he arrived because his has more furniture than mine and logistics has been slow on getting me a new table. My maid helped me, and after we took the table, she was like "should we take more stuff?" She was very into the mission. But I figured the transfer was a fair one and there was no need to move into all out raiding. The table is part is of new "kitchen" which is the table (woohoo!), two electric burners, and spices. I feel like such a bachelor...my Boston dinner parties with baked ziti, lovely salads, and chocolate cakes seem like a lifetime ago. Now I'm proud if I manage a tuna salad that doesnt poison me.

My new supervisor has already mentioned possibly getting a fridge ( I broke it to him that the last diesel fridge caught on fire and nearly burned down his apt.).