Money matters

One of the first things to get to grips with in a new country is the currency - not only what it looks like but also the exchange rate and what you should be paying for different things.

The currency in Chad is the Central African Franc (CFA), which is also used in Cameroon, Central African Republic, Republic of Congo, Equatorial Guinea and Gabon. It is one of those currencies with lots of zeros and there are a variety of different notes and coins, although the smaller denominations are in quite short supply.

Some CFA bank notes

There are about 500 CFA to 1 USD and 800 CFA to 1 GBP so I spend a lot of my time doing mental arithmetic trying to work out how much things cost.

My first experience of buying vegetables from a street seller revealed that the most common amount charged is 500 (cinq cent) CFA - for half a kilo of tomatoes, peppers or onions. It was also what I would have been charged for 3 large carrots (I was very excited to see carrots for sale!) but when I opened my purse I only had either a 10,000 CFA note or 250 CFA in coins and the vendor had no change so I got the carrots for half-price. I guess he is hoping I will become one of his regular customers and give him the money owed next time I buy from him, which I probably will. I have found that it is important to get to know the people you buy from as that way you can also avoid the 'khawaja tax' - the extra bit of money that is added to every transaction because you are a 'khawaja' (the Arabic word for 'white person' or 'foreigner').

First impressions of Chad

It’s hot.

According to the information given on the aircraft as we landed at N’Djamena it was 33 C and that was at 9.00 p.m. The immigration hall at the airport had two completely inadequate air-conditioners, which said that the room temperature was 30 C and they were trying to cool the room to 17 C. They were not succeeding in their mission – not anywhere close to it! Fortunately the air-conditioning where I am living and working is much more efficient, something I am very grateful for as I slowly acclimatise.

It’s French.

I successfully picked the right immigration queue at the airport, according to the signs (I chose ‘autres’) and was feeling quite pleased with myself until the immigration official decided to engage me in friendly conversation at which point I found myself at a loss for words. Fortunately, he was very forgiving of my inadequacies and that has been my experience with most people I have met so far. I managed to buy some vegetables from a street-seller today although I found following the conversation during meetings quite a challenge. I am hoping my language skills will improve with practice.

The French-ness of the city extends beyond the language to the wide-streets, the public seating areas, driving on the right, imported French goods in the shops and the patisserie selling croissant and baguettes!

It’s African.

Despite the historical French influence on the country, it is also unmistakeably African. I find this quite difficult to describe as it is a combination of so many things. N’Djamena is a relatively small capital city (much smaller than Kampala or Nairobi) and so is quite quiet but there is still something chaotic about the driving, with the motorcycles dodging in and out of the traffic and there always being some confusion about who has right of way. The streets are lined with small little shops selling a variety of goods from fruit and vegetables to haircuts and mobile phones. As a white person you are frequently approached on the street by people wanting you to buy what they are selling, which is most frequently mobile-phone credit but in a short trip to the shops I was also offered DVDs (pirated!), USB sticks, peanuts, apples and eggs. People are very friendly and it is important to take time to greet them, shake their hand and ask how they are. And so much more… It’s good to be back in Africa!

Sorry that there are no photos to accompany this blog. I hope the words paint a bit of a picture and I will try to take and upload some pictures over the next few weeks as I get more settled and used to life in a new country.

Packing

Packing has to be one of my least favourite parts of the whole going away process. I think it's all the decision making that has to go into it and the underlying knowledge that if the wrong decision is made then I'll have to live with (or without) it for the whole time I'm away. Do I need five T-shirts or will four be enough? How many pairs of trousers do I need? What about something smart to wear (just in case)? Will my clothes be culturally appropriate? Is it ever going to get cold enough that I'll need something warm to wear? Do I need more of everything because I am away for longer?

My packing process is in three phases. First there is the initial 'gathering' phase where, over a period of several weeks, I gradually collect together all the non-clothes items in a pile in a corner of my bedroom. Then when the time comes to pack I lay everything I am going to take, including my clothes, out on my bed, checking that nothing has been forgotten. Finally (and, when she's around, with the help of my house-mate Sheryl, who actually seems to enjoy packing) everything is packed into the case one layer at a time.

Working on the principle that "if you can't carry it you shouldn't take it" (well, you never know how far you may need to walk with all your bags and no trolley) I try to keep my luggage to one main bag and one piece of hand luggage. It hasn't been possible this time as I am also taking items for the MAF programme in Chad, which means I have an extra bag and some spare space. With less than 24 hours to go until my flight there are a few last minute things to pack and time to remember anything I may have forgotten.

P.S. I took some photos of the packing process, with this blog in mind, and then realised I have packed the lead used for downloading the photos. As it is right at the bottom of a locked case it was an easy decision to make for this to be a photo-less post...

Herdwick Lambs

Lambs seem to be a bit of a recurring theme on this blog at the moment (I guess it's the time of year!) but it should not go un-noted that I saw my first Herdwick lambs of the season this weekend at Loweswater.

Lambing later than most sheep because of the harsher conditions of Lakeland life it is always great to see the next generation of this ancient and iconic breed.

Loweswater

This Saturday I went walking in Loweswater. It is my favourite Lake District lake - remote, unspoilt and surrounded by stunning scenery.

 

A view across the lake



As you walk the paths above and around the lake there are views in one direction towards Crummock Water and in the opposite direction towards the Irish Sea. It was a bright, clear day and the views were just spectacular. There were people para-gliding from one of the nearby fells - I imagine it was a perfect day for this activity. It was certainly a great day for walking!