Well, well, well...

I blogged last year about some of the challenges we had with water at our compound and it seems that this year the problems continue. Yesterday we realised that there had been no water coming in from the city for two days and that our underground tanks were nearly empty.

It is not unusual for the water to be off but it usually comes back again fairly quickly (the city authorities seem better at keeping the water flowing than the electricity, which is frequently off for days at a time). There is a lot of road construction taking place in our neighbourhood and we have heard of others nearby who have lost their water supply as a result so it seems as if it was only a matter of time until it happened to us.

Fortunately (although it didn't seem like it at the time) we had noticed an underground leak and so had called in Silas the plumber to take a look. When we told him that we currently had no water he suggested we should put in a well and offered to do the work today. The price he was asking didn't seem unreasonable and he said it would all be done in a day. As this would not only solve our short-term problem but also be a long-term investment for the compound I gave him the go-ahead and he set off to organise the equipment and the labour.

At 9.00 a.m. this morning seven men arrived in a battered Peugeot pick-up and started work. It seems that to find water you need to have water and so they first dug a large pit and a trench leading to the place where the well will be. They then took water from the kid's swimming pool and poured it into these holes. The only piece of mechanical equipment they have is a pump through which they pass this water in order to create the required pressure for the drilling. However, they turn the drill by hand - four men passing it round in a circle at high speed, whilst another holds the water pipe and the other two keep shoveling away the dirt that is being removed.

It's a long, hard days work in the hot sun as they drill down 45 metres before inserting the pipes and attaching the pump that will bring the water up from underground.

I have been reminded of my first assignment with Medair, when our teams of water engineers spent months drilling for water in South Sudan. They worked in a number of villages, drilling deep into the ground but each time failing to find water. We were starting to think we would have to change our strategy and find a different way to bring clean water to these communities when we finally struck water. The villagers were so excited that they killed a cow in honour of the Medair team and held a big celebration.

I don't think there will be any cow-killing going on at MAF today when the workmen are finished but we will certainly be relieved to have the water flowing again.

Life is fragile

The MAF compound in N'Djamena is in a very mixed neighbourhood. Within just a few blocks of our front gate there are several very large, modern houses (some with swimming pools) and a number of houses that have been turned into offices for government departments or NGOs. In between are plots that contain a multitude of small  'huts' made of rough bricks and corrugated roofing sheets, where the children (who play in the streets and wave enthusiastically as you drive pass) all live with their families.

Life is tough for these people, who are more typical of the average Chadian than those who live in the big houses. They have to collect their water from a borehole that is shared by many other families, they don't have electricity, when it rains their houses leak and the ground around them becomes flooded, the children don't seem to go to school, the men mostly work as day labourers (if they work at all) and the women carry most of the responsibility for the day-to-day running of the home.

Just after I arrived back in Chad a few weeks ago a few of us were driving out of our compound when we spotted a lady walking along the side of the road, with a baby strapped to her back. We recognised her as our neighbour, Sabine, from across the street. She smiled at us and we stopped the car to talk to her. The baby (who was about six months old and still very tiny) had been sick recently and one of the MAF team had visited the family and tried to help. It was unclear what was wrong with the baby (a common situation in a country where good medical care is hard to find, especially for the poorest people) and although he had been in hospital Sabine said he was now much better.

When I left for the office yesterday morning there were a number of men sitting on mats outside the neighbour's compound. This gathering of people, who arrive early in the morning and stay until after dark, usually signifies that a rite of passage is taking place - a birth, a naming, a marriage or a funeral.

I heard later in the day that it was in fact a funeral. Sabine's baby had died the night before and the extended family had come to mark his passing. Life here is fragile.

The River *

The list of ‘things to do with your leisure time in and around N’Djamena’ is a fairly short one.

There is the French patisserie where you can go for coffee, cakes and a light lunch. There are a few reasonably nice restaurants (food is edible and not too expensive). There are two hotels where you can pay a day rate to use the swimming pool. And there is the river.

During my time in Chad last year I experienced all of these except the trip to the river so when some of the other MAF families said they were going there last Sunday I decided to go as well.

In the end all of the international families went along – we piled into three vehicles and headed south out of N’Djamena. We drove for about 45 minutes on good tarmac roads and then at a point that seemed devoid of any road markings we came off the main road onto a dusty track. We followed this past a small mosque and some houses, where children were either playing in the dust or lazily watching their goats, and then struck out across a sandy landscape.

When we could just see the river in the distance we parked up under some trees and bundled out of the vehicles. The ground between where we were parked and the river was mostly soft sand so we thought it wise not to drive on it. Instead we gathered our assorted picnic items together and started walking towards the river.

This was an ideal opportunity for me to get my camera out (unlike in the city, where taking photographs is discouraged). So as this blog has been somewhat devoid of photographs recently here is the story of the rest of the afternoon in pictures.

Keep walking - the river is over there somewhere...

Made it! Time to paddle in the water...

... and watch out for passing boats.

There might be a storm coming...

It's a sand storm

But what a beautiful sunset.

* ‘the river’ is the Chari, which flows north from the Central African Republic, through N’Djamena and into Lake Chad.

Changes

I've been away from Chad for six months and inevitably some things have changed in that time. Some of the more obvious changes that have struck me in my first week include:

• Major road repair to the streets around our compound. What used to be pot-holed dirt roads are slowly being transformed in to smooth tarmac (although the tarmac has not yet appeared). No-one is quite sure why these side roads have been singled out for this improvement and although it's quite disruptive now, with lots of diversions in place, it will make a huge difference when it is finished.

• Increased security around the airport. Since the Chadian army and the French military based in Chad became involved in the situation in Mali security in N'Djamena has been tightened up. There are three roads that lead to the airport and you used to be able to drive freely on any of them. Now two of them have been blocked off and all access to the airport is through a police checkpoint about 200 metres away from the main terminal building. As the MAF hangar and office is at the airport this means that I have to pass through this checkpoint each day to get to work. This involves slowing down enough to show the policeman my MAF ID and I am then waved through.

• A reversal of the law, passed last year that required motorcycle users and their passengers to wear a helmet. It is now against the law to wear a helmet - a measure introduced so that any members of Boko Haram who may try and cross the border from Nigeria can be easily identified.

• A second branch of the most popular 'import shop' (think small neighbourhood mini-market like Spar) called Modern Market has opened on the main street. This is very exciting to an ex-pat in a city where the number of such shops can be counted on the fingers of one hand.

And some things have not changed - it is still as hot as ever, the driving is still as crazy, the internet is still painfully slow and the supply of electricity and water is still erratic. Welcome back!

Back to Chad with a bump!

My return to Chad last Sunday evening was something I won't forget in a hurry. Once on board the Air France flight from Paris to N'Djamena the Captain came on the public address with the usual introductions and information. He said that the weather in N'Djamena was currently 33C and stormy. I thought this was unusual as May is the height of the hot season so I was expecting it to be warmer and without any storms.

I thought no more of it until the turbulence started about 30 minutes away from N'Djamena. This must be the storm! The bumpy ride continued as the cabin crew prepared for landing and the wheels went down. I suffer from motion sickness on bumpy flights so by this point I had my eyes closed and was focusing on retaining my in-flight meal. We were about to land when suddenly the descent turned into a rapid ascent - it felt like being on a roller-coaster and some of the passengers screamed out in a mixture of surprise and fear.

A few minutes later one of the cabin crew came on the public address to say that the Captain would make a announcement soon as to the reason for the aborted landing. However, it would seem that talking to the passengers was not the primary concern of the Captain at this stage as he attempted another landing, only to pull up again. This second attempt again elicited more screams from the nervous passengers and shouts of 'Signeur' ('Lord').

The Captain now made his promised announcement. The quality of the PA system was not great and he spoke English with a heavy French accent but I thought he said there was an obstruction on the runway. In retrospect I don't think this can be the case (maybe I was hearing what I wanted to hear - an obstruction can be managed and moved, a storm cannot!). He explained that we were now going to land using a different runway. This didn't reassure me as it might have done at a larger airport as I was pretty sure there is only one runway at N'Djamena!

If anything the third attempt was even bumpier than the previous two and equally as unsuccessful. By this time all I could think about was the Air France flight that plummeted into the Atlantic Ocean a few years ago and whether or not I was ready to meet my Maker! The cries from the passengers were even louder and I put the quality and strength of the airline's sick bag to the test...

The Captain now informed us that we were going to circle for a while to allow the storm to pass and tried to assure us that when we eventually landed 'it will be safe'. We circled for about half an hour during which time the cabin crew tried to reassure the passengers that all would be well and everyone seemed much calmer as we started our fourth descent.

It wasn't quite as turbulent, although you could still feel the tension in the air, and when the wheels finally hit the tarmac there was clapping and cheering!

News of the dramatic landing seems to have spread throughout N'Djamena and I have been asked about it several times. It rates as one of my least favourite experiences but it seems to make a good story now...