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.