It is now just after 5pm and I’m stuck in the office for another hour until our night driver can come to collect me. You know one of those days where you’ve actually managed to do a number of things but still feel like you’ve had no real focus? Yep, it’s been one of those. What’s good (or bad depending on your viewpoint) is that I feel remarkably guilt-free about it: I’m still in the last throes of holiday mode AND I just got injured this morning in the line of duty…
Before you start imagining wounds inflicted while protecting food shipments from marauding gangs or while jumping out of helicopters into a swarm of gun fire to sweep amazingly cute toddlers out of the path of danger - remember first that I am an accountant not an idiot, and secondly I am amazingly mal-coordinated and just a tad absent-minded.
I actually was just on the wrong side of a dispute with the road leading from my home to the office. It predictably resulted in my grazing my knees and hands, and any pretension to dignity that I ever had with my neighbouring Haitians. So, went home, patched myself up (used a bandage for the FIRST TIME EVER), threw my blood-stained [if you look really really hard] skirt in the laundry basket, worried a little about the apparent bits of dirt that seemed embedded in the wound, shrugged, and checked my tetanus vaccination expiry date. When I got driven to work an hour later, had a rather impressive bandage round my knee and was limping, again rather impressively.
I have an impressionable staff.
So, enough rambling about my heroic defeat at the hands of a heinous road. Post holiday blues is the next subject on the table as it’s only 5.20pm and still have 40 mins to go.
I came back last week from almost 2 weeks traveling around Cuba starting at La Habana and flying out of Santiago via Santa Clara and Trinidad. Did things like walking around almost deserted streets in tattered colonials towns in the early hours of the morning, horseback riding, soft-core hiking, soft-core dancing, soft-core drinking, getting frustrated at the lack of tea in the whole country, enduring long bus journeys, eating quite average to bad food, thinking about the good and bad of communism, visiting lack-luster museums, stumbling across carnivals, getting conned by the double monetary system, enjoying old soviet-style propaganda, and wondering why the hell I took salsa dancing lessons instead Spanish. All in all, it was a pretty successful holiday. I mean, I got myself a large blue Che Guavara flag…
It’s most probably the language thing and the complete lack of knowledge about its history and culture, but I never really feel in love with Cuba and I was really expecting to. My friend whom I conned into traveling with me to Cuba (and later on to Haiti), will doubtless say that I was expecting too much, but I did go away with a bit of a sense of disappointment despite having had a pretty good time. It did make me think about how I don’t even have a passing knowledge of Latin American/Spanish Caribbean, or Spain for that matter. They could be on a different planet for all I know.
Anyway, I was traveling around with Emma – an Irish girl I first met in Syria two years ago. The only thing we really have in common is a love of travel (though for very different reasons) and the fact that we are both only girls of single mothers. Looking back on it, I’m surprised that we were still speaking to each other by the end of it – especially as it’s been rather some time since I’d traveled with someone and completely forgot how to do it. We did do the sensible thing and take separate rooms after we started getting on each others’ nerves and that was fantastic. OK, not the separation as such I hasten to add, but the knowledge that after doing your own thing for the day, there was someone to have dinner with and tell about all the ridiculous things you experienced and did.
In a fit of distraction, Emma agreed to fly back with me to Haiti and spend a few days here with me. I honestly don’t think she really knew what she was getting herself into, poor thing. We flew up to Cap Haitian last weekend and visited the Citadelle – THE great monument of Haiti which, I have to say, rather underwhelmed us. It was a pretty impressive vista but was crawling with busloads of MINUSTAH (UN peacekeepers) troops in their blue caps taking pictures of everything and Hola-ing us. So not the deserted castle I was expecting. Also, our guide was frankly awful and seemed to want to speak to everyone apart from us. He told us absolutely sod all and it was a shame because it could have been a great place if we had someone to bring it to life.
To make up for that, we stayed at a gorgeous guesthouse at Labardie which was literally ON the beach (see photo which I will upload when I can be arsed). It had old-fashioned stone walls, hammocks, beautiful paradise beach – just the sort of place to take a significant other and shag each other silly. Also a virtue that it has no cell phone coverage and you can only there by boat. I had to leave after just one night and was pretty upset about it. However, seems like all I missed was being hit on by the 83 year old proprietor of the place who promised Emma “a magical sexual experience” in the sea. His wife had gone to bed, you see… I always miss the fun.
Anyway, Emma left for the Dominican Republic day before yesterday so feeling like the holiday is truly over. It was lovely going home to someone for lunch and eating out on the balcony – definitely reminded me where priorities should be and that a social life is actually a Good Thing and not something that just takes time away from Work. Also, found out that a good colleague and friend of mine is leaving so made me think about my own future here – and about what I want to do afterwards. Sometimes you can get so busy and stressed out that you don’t actually remember that you’re here by choice.
Ugh, the pus on my knee is starting to drip down my leg. Is that normal or am I getting an infection. Ah, what the hell. Will make myself a cup of tea and read a trashy book.
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