What does one do when they have their birthday in Kananga? Head to the local chinese restaurant of course. These two characters have been here for 4 years from Shen Zhen I think. I never thought I'd have to pull out the old chinese school lessons in the DRC but here I was, looking at a menu in French, and trying to order in Mandarin. Well I got 2 dishes out of 3 of what I wanted.

The meat quality was the same as everywhere here (ie. tire rubber) but at least the spices and sauces were good. And for those of you thinking it, yes I need a shave and yes I look ridiculous in that hat, but out here they don't know any better.

Anyhow, I've been diligently planning my break and holiday. At the moment it looks like trekking in Chiang Mai for a few days, climbing in Krabi for about 10, then back to KL to do whatever for another 10. Very much looking forward to it.

Oh and I've realised I'm not going to be at home much in the next 12 months (even when I'm in the country) so I'm coming back for Christmas to catch up with everyone. I'll probably rent an apartment for the 10 days or so people can come and go as they please. Should be fun.

Well I'm off to go outside and do a happy dance coz a massive storm is brewing. Storms = no fog and no smoke haze = work getting done = Alex not shooting himself from boredom.

See ya.

Going to have some strange dreams tonight

If I start publishing instructions on how to surgically remove malaria parasites from my liver using only a teaspoon, please contact my office and have them fly me home.

Type in 'Mefliam' into Google and look up side effects.

I didn't really notice any huge changes from my first dose last week but after today's dose my head is swimming. It would also explain the little bit of a downer I had a few days ago that dissapeared over night.

Anyway, Mefliam is the best option for anti-malaria meds in this area. Type in 'cerebral malaria' in Google and look up side effects and you'll understand why I'm taking them. I'm off to make apologises to the cats because I haven't been feeding them lately. Then I'll put the fairies to bed.

It's not a competition

Ok, this has come out of a few conversations with people.

Firstly, if you open one of my emails and the next thought out of your head is "Geez he must really be bored", you DON'T have to reply with one of equal length.
Even a quick description of what you've been doing in the last 5 minutes is something I appreciate.

Secondly, I know I have a propensity to get a little heavy in some of my longer short stories, please read them with consideration that I am stuck in the vacant room next to hell and I haven't done nor will be doing any work for weeks. I can be a little melodramatic at times.

Other than that. :) All is good in the hood.

Hello breakfast, lunch and dinner


Forget flying commercial. Cessna 208 Caravan all the way. Pizza, drinks and room to stretch and sleep.


One night here in Botswana


One month here in Kananga

I knew I was setting myself up for a big fall getting wound up to get to the DRC. And oh what a friggn fall is was. I’m currently sitting in a room fighting off malaria ridden mozzies in the middle of a Catholic mission in the middle of the DRC.

WTF am I doing in a Catholic mission? No I’m not converting, it’s the only place around here with any infrastructure to operate out of. So I’m trying to behave lest my soul be damned to the deepest pits of hell (wait I’m already here) but I’m doing something wrong because the weather has been F(*&ed and we haven’t done a single days flying. Almost a whole month now in Africa, a week in the DRC and I’m yet to do a proper days work.

It’s an eerie feeling as I’m the only one left. The others got eaten 2 days ago and now they’re starting to look at me with hungry eyes. Meat is in short supply here and we’re pretty much the ‘other white meat’. Well, not really. The pilot I was with was due to go home a month ago and after extension after extension he’s finally on his way back to Oz. What that means for me is that I’m stuck here alone until Tues when his replacements arrive. If they arrive on Tues.

So I’m slowly going out of my mind. I really want to get some f(*&ing work done. This place wouldn’t be so bad if I knew I was getting closer to getting out of here. But as it stands, I’m here in Kananga for 2 weeks probably more, than out of the pan and into the fire of Mbuji. More corruption, more bribes, more bullets. I’ve had one of those serious ‘WTF am I doing here moments’.

It could be worse. I could be a geologist in field on site collecting samples. Met a team from DMA that had just finished a 2 month stint out bush. We’re talking 30 degree plus days walking, hacking and hauling 20 odd kgs of sample bags. I thought malaria was an issue, try getting bitten by a Boomslang 5 hours from the nearest brick wall.

IT DOESN’T MATTER WHERE HOW BAD YOU THINK YOU HAVE IT, THERE WILL ALWAYS BE SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE WORSE. GRATITUDE IS A VIRTUE NOT A CONCEPT.

I feel much better now. Gun laws here are no quite as strict as in Oz and a visit to the local firing range has all sorts of health benefits. So long as you don’t shoot yourself.

Well FINALLY off to the DRC tomorrow. Got a quick shopping trip to do for food then off into the wilds of Africa. And to all those who have been asking, yes I will finally take some photos and stick them up. I’ve been a bit lax up but really the only shots up to now would be of shopping malls and cafés which is not what you want to see I’m sure.

See you up there.

No work, no play

Ok, I am now officially annoyed. I've been here 2 weeks to the day and have neither done any real work or gotten to know any of the locals/go sightseeing. Haven't even taken any photos.
We've been trying to get the plane ready to go to the DRC and finish the job there but there has been delay after delay and it keeps stretching out. Originally I thought I was going to be here just 6 days so I was ready to go and do as much as possible before leaving. Things like skydiving, game park tours etc as well as meeting up with some of the locals and getting on the fire water.

Well none of that has really happened and it's annoying me as I feel I've wasted 2 weeks and many an opportunity to get out and about. What makes it hard is I only know what I'm going to be doing for the day a few hours before doing it. Sometimes I have stuff I need to do for work, sometimes nothing. So neither working or nor a tourist right now and it's just gotten to me today. But it's the nature of this job so it's time to suck it up and move on.

Bah, anyway, now I've had my spit at all of you I'll just ride my time out until we get away. I'll have a chance to do the holiday/tourist thing later. Actually I'll probably head to Cape town for that as there's more to see/do and less chance of getting mugged shot than in Joburg/Praetoria.

Off to eat myself silly again. I'll be back later.

GMT +2

WARNING FOR THOSE WITH SHORT ATTENTION SPANS:
I haven’t posted something in a while so the whole kit and caboodle is going up here. If you want the quick version with just the facts and not the rhetoric just read up until the red asterisks ****. For those with a bit of appreciation for banter (thanks to my blond Romanian sister for the support, you know who you are) read on! :)

Not having the time when you have the motivation or not having the motivation when you have the time is often why bloggers go AWOL every now and then. That’s my excuse anyway.

It’s been a bit of a whirlwind time since I got the call to head to Africa and it’s only now that the aforementioned two have come together.

Back tracking a little, I got an email from the office wondering if I was interested in Africa. About an hour after I sent an enthusiastic reply I got a call asking if I had my passport on me and whether I was ready to go NOW. Huh? Umm no, it’s back in Sydney and I might need to repack. So after about another hour my flights were booked to head off in about a week. Still had to get home from Maralinga.

After about 10 hours travelling the next day, starting in the back of a Fletcher and ending in a Qantas burner, I managed to get home at about 9.30pm. The decision was made to see as many people as possible before heading off this time so the entire duration of the taxi ride home was spent finding out where people were at and when they could be available.

Next few days were spent getting jabbed for all manner of nasties and a little shopping to get stuff together. Fri night was the designated ‘catch up’ night and an open invitation made to those who were interested. Managed to get most people on the list, it’s surprising how much you can get done in a few days when you put your mind to it.

Everything packed, crammed into the flying fish can of a plane for the long haul to Joburg. 14 hours have never seemed so long. Not to complain too much, but those of you who know how I like to eat, feeding me twice on a 14 hour trip with only pretzels and water in between just doesn’t cut the mustard. I ended up buying one those hideously overpriced choc macadamia boxes to see me through. What wasn’t funny was see the 2 five dollar notes in my wallet for a $20 item. Fantastic plastic to the rescue again.

Looking out the window from the plane at the airport only to see brown grass and red dirt, I thought we might have landed back in central QLD. But no, 14 hours 30 mins had passed and I was the mother country of the Springbok.
Standing in line waiting for immigration was my first taste of ‘Africa time’. What I found rather amusing was the ‘If you have a complaint please refer to the relevant department’ sign next to the ‘Welcome to Johannesburg immigration’ sign. No mention of who the relevant department was but at least they were thoughtful enough to acknowledge those with lesser patience.
Not so amusing was the 1 hour wait to move 20 places in the queue. And that was the locals line that I had some how found myself in.

Meeting me at the airport was my soon to be pilot/guide/bunk buddy Rohan. I had sent an email earlier telling him to look out for the 6’1” Asian guy wearing a drover hats and seeing as they were in reasonably short supply on that flight, he found me without too much trouble.
Driving the quarter hour to our hotel in Centurion I saw the odd scrub fire along the median strip. I could only guess the locals were either a) attempting to flush out would be car jackers b) trying to stay warm or c) cooking their dinner. Still have no idea why you would light a fire in the middle of a dual carriage four lane highway.

Pulling up at the swanky Protea Hotel I was really starting to like what was ahead despite the pictures of the DRC I had in my head. Actually I should just mention here that the plan was to only spend about a week in Centurion before heading off to the Democratic Republic of Congo. That’s where the real work is and my to be home for the next month or so. In any case I had a great pizza for dinner by the natural/man made lake that edges up to the hotel and neighbouring shopping mall before crashing to bed.

For very similar reasons to the Malaysians and Singaporeans, it seems the locals here love their shopping and their shopping malls. I guess it really stems from the need to have somewhere to hang out and play. Considering the average house has a 7 foot wall topped with razor wire around it, you can understand why there aren’t too many parks or places outside to mingle and congregate.
One thing that did catch me by surprise was how well everyone was dressed around here. Well the one’s with money anyway. No such thing as a general no name clothing shop, everything here has a brand of some kind. Even the ‘Discount Clothing’ warehouse is filled with cheap branded American labels. I was actually thinking of a new pair jeans. I haven’t worn them for years and considering they cost upwards of AUD$60 at home I never found the need strong enough. Well when they cost about AUD$10 a pair here, and with more choices of cut and length than you could poke a roll of boer worse at, I bought a few.
Now to be completely politically incorrect here (well it is my blog) the local Afrikaans women here are really gorgeous. Must be the Dutch and European heritage but the concentration of good looking chicks here fair out weighs what you get in Sydney. The only thing is that they could smile a bit more because they look even better when they do. I guess when you consider the history and the current climate around here you can understand why they’re not jumping out of their skins to each new day. I’ve got a more social commentary later on but for the sake of brevity I’ll continue with what else has happened.

The next couple of days entailed running around meeting the local African office support team (sum total 2 people) and checking on the plane etc. One of the ladies is the logistics manager and very much a mother goose type personality. A true Afrikaan through and through but she would do anything for us guys here in the field. A really beautiful and lovely person. The other lady, well she’s the helper around the office, blonde in the same way Jessica Simpson is an academic but also very nice as well. Did manage a bit more shopping to keep me occupied in the DRC. One thing that is rather expensive here are books and magazines. About 10-50% more in fact. But if it keeps off the boredom… Oh and a new guitar. Yes, yes didn’t I just buy one in Mt Isa? I really like that one so it’s sitting at home lest it get stolen or shot. I found a music shop here and got an entry level Cort for a couple of hundred bucks which as cheap as they get. But it’s actually a lot nicer than I thought and I might bring it back with me. Original plan was to just leave it at the office here when I take a break and pick it back up again when I’m back on shift. We’ll see.

Which leads me to where I sit now. Punching out prose and verse (lol yeah right) to those who care to read. It’s still damn cold here, I’m shivering slightly but I can’t tell whether that’s the cold or the coffees I’ve put through my kidneys. Once the sun gets low it’s time to move indoors or pull out the down jacket and beanie which fortunately I did pack.
I’ve been here 5 days longer than expected and probably another 5 more as one of the instruments on the plane is buggered (3 times over actually) and we’ve got no idea where or when we’re getting another. Such is the fickleness of aviation.
No complaints though, I could be waiting in far worse places, like the DRC ……

****

Well that’s the usual bit of where is Mr Lee and wtf is he doing. Time to peel a few layers.

I’ve always maintained that the spirit of a place grows from the influences and attitudes of the people that fill it. The buildings, the surrounds, the environment are only a reflection of that. Seeing how people interact with each other, with their surrounds and to outsiders is what makes travel interesting to me.
Beyond that, trying to understand how those ideas and actions come about in the first place and finally where I would fit in and how I would be were I to live there gives a bit more meaning to a trip rather than the usual stop, snap and go.
I’m in a fortunate position that the places I visit I do get to see what it is like to live and work there, even in a limited capacity. It really makes me appreciates what I do for a living and gives some meaning to what I do.

In the time I was working around Australia however brief I realized a few things.
Australia’s a big place but at the end of the day an Aussie is an Aussie not matter where you go. Despite doing things in different ways, we mostly chase the same things, live our lifestyle in the same laid back way. Our attitude is our identity and it’s something a) I really like and appreciate and b) is something that is very ingrained in how I see and live my life. I’ve discovered I really like being an Aussie for what it’s worth and while it’s not about flag waving and anthem singing, being proud of the influences that drive you through the day is a fulfilling thought.
I think most of my whinging and complaining about Sydney is that the people there have lost a little of that open, easy going and optimistic mindset that you find in smaller places around Oz. Getting away from that and seeing that there were still plenty of people with my same mindset was a great thing. While I wouldn’t like to be away from Sydney forever, I don’t think only living there forever would be a great thing either.

Now over here in South Africa I’ve made a few mental notes on the people here. First a bit of scene setting and background.

Most people would know of the history of apartheid in South Africa (if you haven’t just Google it) and divisions between blacks and whites. It’s recent enough in history that there are a lot of people especially in the baby boomer and generation X ages that remember what it was like to have full control and power of the blacks in their country and are a little resentful of what it is like now. The whites here still control the vast majority of the economic wealth despite being only a 10%-20% population minority.
In recent years there is a swing towards shifting this balance and it’s reflected in business and criminal laws. There are two examples I’ve seen here, firstly, every business has to employ a certain number of blacks versus their white workers. It’s actually quite a strict law and it’s quite common to see the black South Africans as the majority of front line customer service staff while the whites still hold greater positions of authority and power as managers and owners.
The second example is of a black South African man that killed a person trying to rob him of his mobile phone. Although I don’t know the full details, the reason he made the news was that he had been found not guilty of murder, was released and had just been re-arrested for another robbery. I’ve been told if a white man were to kill a black man here, the consequences would be very dire indeed.
There are rumours that things may be headed the way of Zimbabwe and the laws they have there.

Understand I’m not making a judgement of what is right or wrong or what should or should not be, it’s just to give you an idea the circumstances that surround the people here and how it could influence the way they interact.
So the divisions are still quite clear, particularly in the cities with most of the animosity coming from the white Afrikaans.
Having said that, most of the black population here are honest hard working people who are trying to earn their living just like rest of us. There is no social security here and at most intersections you’ll find a dozen or so guys with their finger in the air hoping to pick up a days work so they can get by. They do look after themselves as well in that they are clean and don’t smell. They’re clothes might have more holes than a particular Australian Labour politician’s IR laws but they are clean and ready to work. And I’m really going to throw the cat in here and quote a fellow Aussie I met “every time I hear the Afrikaans complain about the blacks here, I say to them, ‘I’ll swap your black for our blacks any day of the week”. I don't mean to offend anyone with that, it's just a comment on the differences between the indigenous cultures.

So where does that leave an Aussie Asian brother who cusses and drinks with the best of them? Actually, I’ve been reasonably well received here. I do get the occasional odd look from the Afrikaans but nothing more than ‘I don’t see many of your kind here’. Once I start talking and especially when I mention I’m an Aussie the attitude is as welcoming as it will get.
Back in the days of apartheid, Asians, Indians and Middle Easterners were classed as ‘coloured’. They didn’t get full rights but weren’t as marginalised as the blacks.

So really it’s the same story as most Asians in the Western world, they’re not openly welcomed, but not completely disliked either. More indifferent than anything. Argue with me if you want, but that’s what I’ve been seeing and experiencing my whole life.

Not that it bothers me much. I get the odd moment where I know things would work so much better if I were blond haired and blue eyed, but then there are moments where I’m very glad I am the way I am. Focusing on confusing the hell out of people who try and pigeon hole me by my appearance is a favourite past time and provides endless enjoyment. Nothing beats the look of shock and confusion on someone’s face when you quietly walk up to them and then belt out a ‘Gday how you goin cobber?’’
And you know what, the people who manage to get past that and really connect, are the type of people I want to get to know anyway.
I’m not very likely to be surrounded by superficial people who just love me for my rugged good looks and I’m very happy about that. :P

Well that’s about as much as I can ponder for the day. The staff in the café are probably wondering how the heck I have so much to write. Probably you are too. :) So off to upload all this to the site and unload some tea. More to come later.