Trainer has been officially deleted from my life after a brief reappearance under the guise of the last of His Final Chances. Fool me once, shame on you Trainer, fool me a bunch more, shame on me. I'm taking back my power. You're not worth it. Duh-LETE!
I spent 9 hours in a car driving to Kassala. Spent 3 days there, supported a workshop in Arabic and bought the entire office ice cream for $10 then spent another 9 hours driving back. Counting dead cows on the side of the road gets boring after the first few hours so mostly I napped and stared out the window hoping for the answers to all of life's questions. They didn't come so I remain as lost as ever. The driver did however have the opportunity to get an important and perplexing question off his chest, "Heather" he said, "I have something important I want to ask you". "Ok Hisham, what is it?". "I heard that Canadians they don't like Celine Dion. I don't understand that. She is the best. My favourite." So we discussed that for awhile and then blasted his tape (TAPE!) of My Heart Will Go On and he promised to find out if there is anywhere for karaoke in Khartoum.
I then made the most of my 3 remaining days in Khartoum. I spent a day by the pool reading the Hunger Games - I was excited to finish but then utterly torn upon learning that it's a series - was I happy there would be more or sad that I didn't get enough closure? The exact same thing happened when I went to see The Lord of the Rings. I had no clue it was a trilogy and when the credits rolled I looked at my friend and was all 'what the fuck?' and she laughed cause I'm so outta touch. Thank goodness the next book is also in my Kindle.
I also got to celebrate my first Burns Supper, which I had never heard of before, on account of being super lame and unworldly. Burns was some Scottish poet that died like 200 years ago, but he wrote an ode to haggis and now people eat haggis and celebrate. You may have already seen on my facebook status my inaugural Burns Supper was celebrated at a fancy event on the tennis court of the British Embassy. I wore a dress and we all stood as a bag piper flown in from Dubai 'announced the haggis' by parading it through the party. Scots are weird. (I can say that. I think I might be one of them, on account of all my "Irish ancestors" having actually been born in Scotland). It was hot and there was whiskey and wine on the tables and a set of speeches so lame and underwhelming that my neighbor was inspired to vomit into the ice bucket ever so discreetly at the table (sorry if you're reading this LM!). She blamed the heat and the haggis. I suspect the mind numbing speeches had something to do with it, and later we marched the ice bucketed haggis back out of the party, in nearly the same path taken by the procession as it made it's way in. Minus the bag piper from Dubai. Good times.
Then I returned to Juba.
And now for some of the grumbly bits, which are no longer fresh grumbles and will be carefully phrased by my rational frame of mind.
Grumble 1: I may have to choose between continuing to go between the two country programmes (Sudan and South Sudan) and doing only surveys (not having M&E anymore) or be full time in South Sudan and continue with surveys and M&E. I don't like either option but have been too chicken shit to sit down with my boss to talk about it since I've been back.
Grumble 2: I expressed interest to HR in a job we have open in Sierra Leone. Then I rescinded my interest feeling like it would be hard for the programmes here if I were to leave suddenly. It would have also become challenging (read: likely impossible) to get home for weddings in June and September. But knowing the job is there and open has been nagging at me because I'd really like to have it. Then yesterday I got an email, and it turns out that on Wednesday I'll be interviewing a candidate that has applied for the job. Am I mature enough for this?? It's purely a coincidence because the candidate is living in Juba at the moment, but there's also a good chance this the universe is rubbing salt in the wound as a reminder that I'm an idiot.
Grumble 3: My room in Juba was given away. I had to pack up and move houses which feels super not good. I had a bit of a fight about it with the woman who made the decision - I felt that if there was logic to reallocating my room to someone else, then surely she could at least let me stay in the same house so that I wouldn't have to pack up and be completely dislodged. I didn't think it was unreasonable that a staff member visiting from Nairobi should be asked to move instead, considering I am meant to have a room. When she responded I punched holes through her rationale but packed up grumpily anyways. The place I'm in now is fine, but it will just be temporary, and it's the moving around that drives me nuts.
Grumble 4: Now this is the biggie. I have 29 more sleeps til my Zanzibar holiday. The one that I've already booked and paid for. At a fancy all inclusive resort. That I've been looking forward to for a long time and that a friend is intending to join me for. And now some of our staff have gone on strike, and my activities may have to be altered and there's a chance that my R&R will either get changed or, worse, I will get stuck in the field and miss my flight to Zanzibar and lose all my money etc etc etc. I know that I'm not meant to stress so much about something until it is confirmed, but I can't help it. Best case scenario is I'm told on Monday or Tuesday that the staff issues are sorted out and I can proceed with the MICS as planned. Grandma, can you help out with some of those prayers please?
I'm going to try to spend the rest of the day thinking happy, positive thoughts....
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