pepper pots

Just eight years ago the town of Huambo was the scene of bloody fighting and a massacre of the local population. It was a typical proxy Cold War scenario with the South Africans and Cubans fighting out a war on Angolan soil for East/West supremacy.

However, one of the strangest things about Huambo and the Angolan people is the way they have put this behind them and moved on. I have discussed this before but bring it up again as an small explanation of the photo on this entry. This bulding, peppered with heavy machine gun and RPG fire, clearly shows the intensity of the fighting. Most of the buildings in this street are like this.

A reminder of the recent past.

Keeping up those ball skills!

When you are working and living far from home and your everyday life, you look for things that make an alien world more pleasing. Here at the house in Huambo we have a table tennis able setup outdoors in the gym area. As you can see this is the latest in luxury air-conditioned gymnasium facilities. In the foreground to the left you can see the cross trainer and to the right the free weights station. The table tennis table is in the middle and the decrepit (but functioning) rowing machine is on the far side behind the TT table. My bedroom is known as the ping-pong room as it is on the left and opens straight out into this area. I am not yet allowed to live inside the house!!!!!

Most evenings we have an impromptu tournament with the winner staying on. At first it was clear who could play and who could not and we just played for fun. However, as we have progressed over the last week or so everyone has been getting better. We can rally now, spin the ball and serve OVER the net.

Of course, this would not be Angola if there was not a hint of an Angolan influence and that is provided by the lights that pulse in time with the water pump. As the water pump turns so the lights fade up and down giving a mind altering stroboscopic effect which can cause the ball to fade from view and re-appear just slightly from where you last saw it and where you are moving to hit it.

In case you are wondering why we need lights in the evening. As you get nearer the equator the days do not extend at different times of the year as they do further away. The length of the day is pretty constant from “winter” to “summer” and it is dark by 7pm, so the lights are important.

What started as fun, with most of us just managing to get the ball over the net and the better players knocking it up for us has taken on a distinctly competitive edge as the games are now getting closer. Much passion and excitement is roused with new found pride being very much at stake.

Even the less interesting football matches are being ignored as the truly competitive are spending more and more time practising and honing their TT skills. Two of the better players have been away in Luanda this week and we lesser mortals have been preparing for their return on Friday. I predict a competitive weekend is approaching, one to outstrip the football pitches of South Africa.

Thank goodness no-one has brought one of those pesky vevezula things to our competition.

At the market

And so we finally come to the market. What an experience this was and how unique in all my time of visiting bazaars and markets in various corners of the globe.

The market is a ramshackle collection of corrugated tin huts on one side of the road, and on the other, people sat out in the sun with their sparse wares in front of them on upturned crates. It is located out of town on a windswept hillock. All around the market is desolate, just bare red earth like a scene from a post-atomic war film. There are swirling clouds of dust and rubbish being caught up in the wind and rising in the thermals from the heat.

The colours, sights and smells that assail your senses are amazing with the goats and chickens next to the clothes sellers, fruit and veg sellers and the knick-knack sellers.

As you get closer you notice the rubbish piles that are fuelling the swirling clouds overhead. The complete and utter mess of it all. Piles of plastic bags and discarded wrapping . All around the outside of the market is rubbish, piles of decay and mess waiting to rot down. In amongst it all is the ubiquitous plastic bags and wrapping. As the wind blows this is thrown up into the air along with the dust kicked up by the crowds.

On getting nearer, you can't help notice the deafening sound of salsa beat music drumming out of some of the huts at volume 11. As you pass one of these huts (and there is at least one in every row) the sound is deafening and distorted. Although the beat is good, the volume and distortion simply seem to loosen your bowels and destroy your ears. Angolans love noise.

Some of the clothes stalls have random clothes hanging up, but most are like charity shop leftovers. There are literally piles of cast off clothes in stacks on the floor. Babies, children's, adult's, men's and women's clothes. It is clearly where the clothes that you put in the recycling skips end up. Most have western slogans on the t-shirts and sweatshirts. Some are worn out, some simply worn and a few are new, but all piled up on the floor for you to rummage through. There is no attempt at sorting them in any way by size, sex or style, just a pile. We are interested in the clothes shops as we are hunting for an Angolan belt of Black and Red with the Angolan flag proudly emblazoned on the buckle. Unfortunately today is Sunday and the market is relatively quiet and the belt seller is missing. We will have to come back next Saturday.

In one area are the livestock sellers with tethered goats and chickens with their legs tied together stumbling around and falling over in the dirt. Next to them are the fly sellers. Well, I thought they were selling flies until I realised under the flies were pieces of meat. I am told there is no concept of the different cuts of meat here and you simply get a piece of meat, when you buy it, but of course, I have no idea how true this is.

Then we come to the fruit and veg – now this I do have experience of. If you enlarge the photo and look carefully at the sellers you will see that everything is in neat little piles. These are the quantities. The tomato lady will have piles of say, 5 tomatoes in each. You have to buy in quantities of 5. if you want 8 you have to buy 10. She will only sell them in the piles prepared for you. Heaven forbid you start to mix up the piles. This will be frowned upon. The lady selling onions had 3 washing up bowls of onions in front of her. We wanted 2 or 3 onions, but she was only selling by the bowlful, 10 onions for 500 Kwanzas. There is no point in offering 100 Kz for 2 onions or even 150Kz for 2 onions, she will not sell. If you think the price is too high there is no point in haggling, she will not sell. It is the strangest and most rigid market system I have ever encountered. The veg is good and there are onions, okra, carrots, garlic, aubergines, tomatoes, potatoes amongst others. The chillies are tiny, so we bought the standard small pile. Oh dear, they proved to be very potent when we made the curry later that day. Small but fiery would be a good description.

So we have our bag full of standard measures of everything we need and much. 10 onions, 5 garlics, 4 aubergines etc. I am sure you get he picture.

A group of boys follow us round the market. They keep a discreet distance and never ask for anything. This is the Angolan way. Begging is rare. We buy 2 packets of peanuts and give them to the boys. They smile and wander off.

We have finished our shopping expedition and return to the house. It is Sunday and my turn to cook dinner. We will have a veggie (mainly aubergine) curry and rice for dinner.

As we drive back we pass numerous people all dressed in their Sunday best. Church attendance is high and many are on their way to/from church. It makes for a wonderful spectacle, especially the small children and the little boys in their suits and the little girls dressed in their special Sunday frocks.

Question Time

It's Saturday and we have the afternoon off which gives me the opportunity to answers some of your questions. This is obviously a pretty arduous task and requires me to be in the right frame of mind.

So, I am here on the upstairs balcony overlooking the main road out front. The traffic is light at this time of day (3pm) with the odd dilapidated car and a number of motorbikes passing by. Bicycles never seem to be ridden but are often to be seen loaded up with goods and possessions and being pushed down the road. It appears that in Angola bicycle = wheelbarrow. The motorbikes and scooters are usually ridden sans helmet. The cars are usually dilapidated and barely moving interspersed with the latest 4x4. Pedestrians are few and far between and are often women walking alone with a baby strapped to their backs. Often they are also carrying a large bowl or basket on their heads. So, the scene is pretty peaceful, I have my laptop on my lap and my iPod gently playing “My Favourites” playlist. A chilled beer is on the floor beside my chair and I think I am ready to begin giving answers.

But, forgive me, I have forgotten to tell you about the flora and fauna. The rainy season is just over and so the scene is green and lush. There are thick green leaved trees all around. In fact, from my seat here on the balcony I could reach forward and pick a lemon from the tree in our front garden that is providing me with shade as I write this. The central reservation of the road in front is full of thick green grass. However, everything is beginning to dry out now and the first effect is the dust. This is not the biblical dust of Kabul, but is getting thicker and more abundant. The soil is red and everything is beginning to take on a red hue, particularly my legs at the moment. Is that the dust or the sun?

Animals are few and far between. There is an amazing lack of wildlife (as I have said before). There are a few dogs roaming, but these too seem to have the Angolan relaxed attitude to life and have no interest in barking, chasing or generally getting involved at all.

So, I come to my first query. The Charity Shop Fairy (shouldn't that be ex-CSF) wants some information for her Lonely Planet good veggie guide. Well, the truth is that Angola does not rate high on the scale. Tomorrow me and one of my companions are going to the market to check out the fresh fruit and veg. We are hoping to cook an extravagant and delicious Veg curry tomorrow for the team. (Sunday is the maids day off). So, I will report back on that. However, Angola suffers from that war cooking mentality that was prevalent in Afghanistan. A very repetitive and boring diet. I am not sure what the locals cook here, but the maids cook for us generally, chicken, stew and burgers. Having been told I am veggie they now boil some potatoes, carrots and cabbage every day. The variation comes from eating this with either rice or bread!!! We went to a chicken restaurant recently and they did cook me an omelette, but a quorn bolognese or tofu chow mein is not going to happen.

Now the innkeeper (would that be Mr Barleyman Butterbar of the Prancing Pony) wants some background on what the hell am I doing here. I am here in Huambo for 3 weeks, finishing with 2 days in Luanda before flying back to the UK. I am Acting, Temporary, Deputy, Assistant Finance Officer for an UK NGO that is the worlds largest HMA organisation. But, what is HMA, I hear you ask. Humanitarian Mine Action also known as demining. We are here ridding this country of landmines, the Remnants of War and Weapons and Ammunition Destruction. Clearing land to allow the local people to return to their homes, to plough their fields again and to be able to live their lives in safety, free from the threat of being blown up or killed.

As for a beer in France? My dear Barleyman, beer is never going to tempt me to France, however a convivial time spent with you and Mrs. Butterbar and a bottle of fine French wine sounds very appealing.

The experience here is totally different to Afghanistan or Sri Lanka. In Sri Lanka the war was still going on and although there was no direct threat there was the underlying strain of a country at war with roadblocks, curfews and the fear of incoming shelling. Whilst Afghanistan had the ever present threat of direct attack which consequently meant all travel took place in armoured vehicles and armed guards were ever present. Here the people are cheerful and relaxed. Maybe a little too relaxed when it comes to work!!

Incredibly there seems to be no hangover from a brutal war that only finished 8 years ago. Most people simply brush it off and look forward, happy in the security and safety they now enjoy (although very poor) There is no overt ethnic tension and all seems to be friendly. Walking round the town in the evening poses no threat at all and is probably safer than on your average British street.

So that sums up the situation, I think.

There is a bit of a breeze getting up which has taken the edge off the heat and is very pleasant. I shall sit and read for a while then maybe do some exercise before I settle down this evening with a couple of cans and watch the England – USA game. My prediction is 3-0 to England, Darren Bent getting a well deserved hat-trick.

As for your comment Mangles. What can I say. I am obviously putting a rose tinted gloss on this for you, the audience. ITS HELL.

Its tough, but someones gotta do it!

Those of you who have followed this blog over the years will know that I have lived in some crumby accomodation and had little to do in my "leisure" time. Not so in fair Angola.

Our house is big and has a large BBQ area, garden (well, dirt patch) and even a recreation area with a rowing machine (display dead, seat wonky and footrests broken), a cross trainer (display dead, very dusty) a set of weights and a table tennis table.

As we start early we are able to get home early-ish. I have been rowing and using the weights and then have the proverbial 3 S's followed by dinner and then some of us play ping-pong. Unfortunately it is dark when we play and the lights over the table pulse as the water pump runs causing the ball to appear and disappear and appear and disappear. Yep, it is ping-pong by strobe light. So as you can see this is a luxurious 5 star paradise compared to most of my haunts. But I am with a great bunch of blokes and it is really enjoyable.

As I have said before, the Angolans are cheerful and friendly people. There is no problem walking round the town at night and going to a restaurant or a bar. The most dangerous thing would be eating the food!!

As for tea, of course we have the ubiquietous Yellow Label tea. this seems to be the only tea sold outside of Her Majesty's realm. It is always the only tea available. It is good, but the homogenised, sterilised carton milk kind of takes away any good flavour you have lovingly instilled using the standard British tea making ceremony.

One of the guys who has been here a while has promised to take me shopping on Saturday, so I am looking forward to an interesting day. Apparently there are 2 main markets. One for fruit and veg and the other full of extremely tacky, very low quality fake designer goods. I presume this will equal the famous "genuine Okley" glasses they sold in Kabul.

Still no roaming herds of Wildebeest, but I am assured we have scorpions and snakes. In fact, I was told to not wear open sandals as scorpions have been known to wander into my finance office and wander around. Very large and dangerous snakes are aplenty, but only out from the town. Of course there are rats, just like everywhere so all food has to be kept locked away. Well not actually locked, rats are not that good at picking locks, but the larder door closed. I can report a very large cockroach wandered past me while I was rowing last night but that scuttled off into shadows and disappeared not to be seen again. Frankly, I would have thought the sight of me on the rowing machine would at least have got it to pause and watch in amazement, but no.

So, on the whole a rather pleasing existence, although no squash courts, so it obviously can't be tolerated for too long.

Till the next time - oh yes, did I tell you what a lovely sunny day it was today. Might even get to spend some time in the sun, come the weekend!!!!

The daily grind

I have arrived. I am here in Huambo in the central highlands of Angola. We have a big house that is right opposite a very large and modern hospital. Huambo is a classic example of a town that has been devastated by a recent war.

Many old buildings full of holes from guns, artillery and missiles. Modern new buildings often built with foreign money that has come into the country in the post-war period and lots of temporary haphazard building by returning refugees desperate to establish a home to begin rebuilding their lives from.

The hospital is an example of those new buildings, as is the bank in the centre of town and various other municipal buildings. Then there is the block of flats we pass on the way to work. The roof was used as a anti-aircraft gun location and the building shows the scars of the battle that took place to dislodge it. The whole building is covered in holes from various calibre weapons and half the top floor flat is missing and is mass of twisted metal and concrete rubble where a missile took out the gun emplacement.

Then on the outskirts of town are the growing shanty towns. As people return with no money or possessions this is there only way of establishing a foothold in life. The houses are small squares made of mud blocks (or concrete blocks where available). There is no running water, electricity or sanitation. They are sprawling areas that simply grow up on the outskirts. The soil though is fertile and the climate helps growth. Although crushingly poor food does not appear to be a problem and there are very few beggars.

As you look out of the window at the grey skies and the thought of the traffic jam on the way to work have a thought for me and my daily grind to the office here. We go to work in the morning at around 6am. The sun is shining the temperature is warm, it is the dry season. We have the windows open on the Land Rover and we pass the odd vehicle as we thread our way through the streets. We pass the shanty town as it is stirring into life and come across our first traffic. There are rows of small minibuses and trucks lined up on the side of the road waiting to pick up workers to take them off to work somewhere in the area. The area is a teeming throng of people, colour and noise as people jostle for positions in the trucks.

The population mix is very interesting. I am told that 50% of the population is under 15 and that the life expectancy is now 42 (it has risen from 37). So there are many women carrying children on their backs tied up in large scarves. Life has condensed. At an expectancy of even 42, a 21 year is half way through their life. A parent needs to have their children by 22 if they want to see their childs 20th birthday.

The local workers come in around 7.30 and the day begins. We stop for a very civilised lunch around 1pm. The ex-pat group congregate under a thatched roof open sided building where we are provided with our daily lunch. It is an opportunity for us to have a chat and all spend half an hour relaxing together. The temperature is just right for T-shirt dining with the sun shining brightly around us and the shade of the thatch being cool.

My office, I share with my team of local staff is large, spacious and cool. The staff are typically Angolan, cheerful and always willing to learn.

We leave around 5pm and head for home. Tomorrow I will tell you about the house and our social life. Don't forget to check those windscreen wipers I have checked - you have rain all week.

Trekkies

So eventually the fridge doors were opened and yes, even at 4am, Luanda is hot. The heat came through the doors, past the throng in the aisles and settled upon me. The heat just came straight through your clothes and made you sweat while standing on the spot. You just wanted to be out of the plane and onto the tarmac. Hopefully there is a breeze out there.

Now Luanda airport has a terrible reputation as being mosquito infested, hot, sweaty, long queues, random system and a man that threatens to inject you on the spot if you can't show a Yellow Fever inoculation certificate. BUT, earlier this year Angola hosted the football African Cup of Nations and one very pleasing by-product of this festival of footie was a NEW airport building. As I headed towards it in trepidation I realised I was faced by a modern gleaming arrival hall. No mosquitoes, air conditioning (fortunately not the demented kind a la BA) and an orderly queue for the Passport control. Everything proceeded with rather disappointing ease and I was through (past the Yellow Fever man – he is still there) and on to baggage reclaim. This is just too darn easy, I thought. In fact, I tempted fate and fate came straight back and hit me between the eyes.

A brand new baggage reclaim complete with various modern carousels. But there are just some things that will always remain the same. As I waited for over an hour bags would appear down the luggage chute 4 at a time. Yes, always 4 at a time. How do you unload a plane 4 bags at a time? It became a game, as the 3rd bag appeared would there be only 3 or a 4th or even a 5th. Such is the ease with which you can occupy your mind after a long journey. Still my bags arrived eventually and off out through customs to the arrival hall where the rest of the team was waiting for me to joint hem on the road to Huambo.

Angola has changed a lot since the end of the war and a lot of effort has been put into clearing the road infrastructure of land mines and the roads have been re-tarmaced and are now good quality single and double carriageways. What used to be a 2 day trek is now about 8-9 hours.

Huambo is up in the central highlands, 1700metres up, in fact, which puts it on a par with many Alpine ski resorts. It is therefore a great place for us Shady Characters as the temperature at this time of year is a very pleasant upper 70's to lower 80's. With the dry season this also ensures there is very low humidity. Yes, folks you are in the middle of a geography lesson! I will continue and stop yawning at the back. Huambo was badly affected during the war that ended eventually in 2002 and there have been a number of massacres in the town and environs.

So, back to the journey. Fortunately the Land Rover doubles as an ambulance and we took it in turns to lay on the stretcher in the back and have a well deserved sleep. However, as the day wore on and we got further into nowhere the countryside became more and more spectacular. Imagine Dimbleby on the Savannah filming lions and tigers, zebras and gazelles. Well that is exactly the scenery, but not a single wild animal in sight. We passed a valley with a lake in the bottom: nothing at the watering hole. Not even a herd of roaming Wildebeest. Basil Faulty would have been very disappointed.

Every now and then we would pass a small township. Mud brick huts and corrugated tin roofs with small gardens and very small fields growing various crops. At the side of the road are women and children, all dressed in bright colours sitting next to piles of fruit and veg. The produce from the fields are all on sale. The site is so intriguing with the colours of the fruit and the bright clothes of the people. We stop, we buy five bananas and continue our trek.

Eventually we arrive at Huambo. Whats it like. I'll tell you tomorrow.

A shady character

Those of you who know me well, and have endured travelling in my car will know I am a chap that likes things cool rather than hot. I have the heat in the car permanently set to the blue – even in the deep mid winter.

When I go somewhere sunny you can rely on me to be skulking in the shadows out of the sun - a true shady character. So last night I board my BA flight from Heathrow to Luanda in Angola. I am wearing a shirt and trousers as I am NEVER cool enough on a plane, it is always a bit too warm for me. We take off at 8pm and they serve us dinner, then the lights are dimmed and we are expected to sleep most of the 8 hour flight except for one rather important detail. At this point they set the cabin temperature to freezing. I kid you not. I have to unwrap the blanket they have kindly provided and try to completely engulf myself inside the blanket to try to stay warm. Up to my neck, tucked in over my shoulders and down over my feet. This is COLD. Sleeping is impossible as you shiver, but then another effect begins to set in, a strange feeling that combined with tiredness overcomes even the cramped confines of a cattle class seat.

Now I am not an expert on Cryogenics and I don't really understand suspended animation, but I do understand that the colder you make something, the slower it becomes. Maybe this is the plan: a planeload of passengers, slow down their bodies and reactions to zero, lock them in suspended animation and then the crew get a quiet night!

The temperature came up around 3am, they served us breakfast and we landed at 4am. The plane touched down safely in Angola, everyone jumped up out of their seats, there was the usual scrum for luggage and then everyone stood. Stood and waited for the plane to halt, for the doors to be opened and to get out. So here we are down in the southern hemisphere, unsure of what awaits and waiting for the doors to open and the adventure to begin. 5 hours frozen sleep in a cattle class seat is not ideal preparation and my brain is a little fuzzy. But in the back of my mind I am thinking: “If I have been frozen for 5 hours – am I just a little younger than you today?”

Next I will tell you what happened when the doors finally opened.

will he, won't he?

Well, tomorrow I am going to the Angolan Embassy to hopefully pick up my passport complete with Angolan visa. IF its there I shall be taking the evening flight to Luanda on Friday and arriving very early Saturday morning. (like 4am early). Then it is 8 hours in a Land Rover from Luanda out to my new home in Huambo. Once I get there I will try to report back on what the journey and the countryside was like.

That is, of course, assuming my knee and back are feeling better. Last night I slipped as I ran to the front of the squash court and went straight into the front wall at full speed using my head and knee as a brake. My eye has been patched up, but is rather black and my knee has come to the conclusion that bending is beyond its capabilities for the time being. As for my back, well thats just come out in sympathy. So, lets see what a few hours rest brings!!