Holiday Seasoning in Chad

Me and la belle Emelie chez le Hilton

Whenever I take photos lately with friends, they frequently ask “if this is going to show up on the blog” sometime. To be honest, it’s always a possibility—unless you specifically tell me not to put it up there. But don’t worry: my mom, aka my main reader, always loves all my friends and her text messages to me go something like this:

“Hi Amanda! How are you today? What are you doing today? Are you feeling ok? Are you eating healthy food and drinking all the water? If you don’t drink enough water, you know you will get sick and die, right? How are all your friends? What is Claire doing? How is Naomi’s work going? When are you going to hang out with Rhyan again? Is Emelie feeling better? Maybe tell her to drink more water. What about Herve? How is his wife after the motorcycle accident?” Add in a few Bible verses and assurances of continued prayer for all of our well-being, and you’ve basically talked to my mom.

My dad’s text messages are shorter: “How are you doing? When are you coming home? Have you bought tickets yet?”

But yes, Claire, this photo of our Thanksgiving celebration is going to end up on the blog.

I'm the one with the crazy eyes in the middle of my lovely group of normal-looking yet beautiful friends.

As you can see, it was an epic celebration of Thankfulness. We ate lots of food and generously invited the former colonizers (those dang Brits) to celebrate alongside of us.

Last year I was in Uganda eating mangos for my Thanksgiving feast. It was not a bad feast. But this year I had my own oven and I got serious about making the food I really like for Thanksgiving, though we can’t get canned cranberry sauce out here, which is one of the few things that tastes better than home-made stuff. You can disagree with me, but you are wrong. Anyway, I baked and baked and baked and bought a can of whipped cream at the store and ate it all and had to buy another.

Baking-don't be fooled: the blender doesn't work.

Finished products (not all by me)

Dinner plate

Dessert

Then I started on Christmas celebrations, watching Rhyan’s employees put up a giant tree. I realized that though I really like Christmas and I enjoy looking at other people’s decorations, I do not mind at all not having to help with the process. As a child, I used to disrupt the process greatly, adding blasphemous Santa hats into the manger scenes or decorating an unappreciative cat. Usually, my sisters would not appreciate my creative additions to their careful home-making skills, but thanks to heightened seasonal Christmas Spirit, they could accept my jokes with good grace and not get too annoyed with me when I didn’t help with anything else.  Fortunately, no one at the Hilton asked for my help.

Hilton decorating

Rhyan is also super helpful and she was crazy busy preparing for the Christmas Market
(which was amazing, by the way!)

The Hilton also ended up being the location of our end of the year IAS Christmas party, thanks to the beautiful Rhyan, who always hooks me up. My staff were so excited to see the Hilton all sparkly and decorated up for Christmas.  I even dressed up because I knew they would love it, and I was feeling generous. Hopefully that image of me lasts for a long time in their minds so I don’t have to do it again any time soon. I have one blurry photo of me that Marthe took, and naturally, I’m carrying my only bag, a lovely cloth one crafted by the Acacia ladies, which Claire made me buy so I’d stop carrying my wallet and phone around in my hand like a man. Since unlike most men, I wear girl(ish) clothes that don’t have pockets, the bag really helped. It did not exactly match my dress, though, as Rhyan kindly pointed out. But Herve said, “Tu est très belle ce soir et je te tire mon chapeau,” so I guess it was worth it putting on the heels.

Joe didn't want to take dress-up photos with me

He's not wearing a chapeau to tire at me,
but I do appreciate this guy

The rare sight of Amanda in heels and a dress,
complete with unmatching bag.
The camera was so shocked, it blurred.
Photo credit: Marthe's phone

My team said they really enjoyed the experience, though everyone was a lot quieter than usual, awed by the splendor around them. One of my staff said, “It’s like you brought us to paradis.” I had one of those moments when I was happy to have given him that experience and also overwhelmed by the unfairness of life where a day spent at the Hilton for me is not a rarity (I like hanging out with Rhyan by the pool!), but it is an other-worldly moment for people I work with every day. I have so much more than I need or deserve, and I'm grateful for it, but it really isn't fair. 

The team in front of the Christmas tree

Our beautiful table

In the end, I have really enjoyed my holidays in Chad. I saved a free day, earned by working straight through various weekends to have Thanksgiving Thursday off, and then I pouted until my friends let me bring my dog to the party (then they all loved him, of course, because he is the best and so lovable). And I love Christmas anywhere. I can get into the spirit in the middle of the desert or enjoy the dulcet disco-beat tones of “Feliz Navidad” blaring through the speakers in our fanciest supermarket. I can make my puppy watch Hallmark Christmas movies with me because they are unintentionally hilarious and they make me think I could be a good actress if I suddenly became stunningly beautiful. I listen to Christmas music (and last minute agree to lead carols in church even though I'm sick so I end up croaking like a frog the whole time—thanks Tara for singing with me and over me) and bake cookies for people, and buy presents for my family. And really, as I was traveling around the last couple of weeks—to Koumra to install a water system at a hospital (while miserably sick for most of the trip) and to Dourbali to finish up ipad reporting for 2 wells out there)—I started thinking: Chad is a perfect Christmas place. We’ve got shepherds. We’ve got camels. We've got long-suffering donkeys. We’ve got a crazy despot on the throne and foreign militaries running around. We’ve got abject poverty and people who would let visitors stay in their barn and/or random government building if there is no room at the local inn (or if there isn’t any local inn available). And we’ve got people waiting to hear the Good News that “unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given…of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end.”

A long suffering donkey

Camel! And some wise kids.

Shepherds on a bike

Finally, as my Christmas gift to you, please enjoy the following photos:

Trying to see the submersible pump we installed at the PMI (Protection Maternelle et Infantile) in Koumra.
I couldn't see it, but Jeanpierre also made sure that I didn't fall down the well. He is a gentleman.

The beautiful Rhyan talking to a mother bringing in her child to be weighed.

The crew hanging at Jeanpierre's moringa factory in Koumra.

Rhyan, lovely traveling companion and Hilton connection, with moringa flowers.

She is clearly exhausted from weeks of planning for the Christmas Market,
and I was sick the whole weekend. We're still almost beautiful enough to play the lead in a Hallmark Christmas movie.

Life hack: when the hotel you're staying in for one night has a water heater but no towels,
take the hot(ish) shower and just use the bedsheet as a towel (make sure you shower in the morning before you leave, of course, so you don't have to sleep on wet sheets).

The lovely Absa, who is a famous movie star thanks to Neverthirst videos.
Whenever I go to Dourbali, she comes to say 'hi'.

King Cow. Seriously--he is wearing a tiara.
I don't have the photo of Djibrine 2 standing by him, but he came up to the tail.

So I found a pathetic tiny puppy.
I couldn't leave it to die in the street.
I could NOT. If I were capable of expressing human emotion in a normal female way,
I would have cried in the street over his miserable shivering body.
Instead, I brought it home, washed it, and convinced the guard that he really wanted a puppy.
He wanted to trade for Joe, but I said, "absolutely not," so he agreed to take Tiny Pathetic Puppy.
Joe was interested at first, but then he got super jealous, so I gave Tiny PP to the girls downstairs.
They played with him and then the guard took him home. He might not survive, but at least his last days will be happy ones.

SO SAD!!!! But he plumped up and was even wagging his tail
(after I protected him from Joe and he dried off after his bath).

 Merry Christmas and Happy New Year 2018!