Castaway

Being in Angola reminds me of the movie Castaway. I am not alone and not lost in a remote island. However, sometimes it feels that way. I work six days a week from dawn till dusk. After day’s work I do not wish for anything other than a little food for survival and some sleep. I really do not prefer to see the expats again in the staff house after spending all day in the office with them. Generally their life style is different from mine. Some love to drink for hours, some smoke like a chimney and keep coughing, some whine about all the things wrong at office, at the house, and so on. Some do not have any physical activity and are not in good shape. Many of them are here in Angola only for that extra money. Some of them act like grown up kids, yet it’s their life and they despise any advice even it’s for their safety. Quite a few are divorcees.

I hardly watch TV. I wanted to see a soccer match (African Futeball) to break the routine, but was advised against it because of potential trouble. There is trouble in the northern border with Congo. A bus carrying the Togo team was shot at. We closed office early one day because of the game between Nigeria and Egypt (fierce rivalry and past history of trouble) as per intelligence report. On Sundays I practically stay in my room. This is my day to unwind, fix breakfast, go for a run, cook, take a nap, skype with my family (only connection to the rest of the world), and possibly read or make an attempt to write reflecting on my experiences. What I find is that suddenly I can not even pencil in my thoughts. I think I have lost it all. So, I pass time listening to music and when it stops I start it all over. I do not mark on the wall like Tom Hanks in the movie to keep track of days. However, I wonder if this place will be able to beat my spirit. I am not a quitter and until then I must wait in this lonely place.