Corona-running, Puppies, Videos, Building Projects, Got Out of Jail (Probably Not Free) Parties, Life

I didn't want the first photo to be me in a face mask
because we have too many of those in the world,
so here are the puppies instead

The face mask rule is back. Government is issuing dire warnings to people who don’t wear them at all times in public. Emelie shows up at the office 3 days after this public announcement, “What? That was serious? I don’t have a face mask.”

The first day of Mandatory Face Mask, I dutifully put mine on to go out for a nice morning jog. I walked out to my starting place and watched a couple of face mask-less guys trot by on their run. I yelled through my mask to ask where their masks were and they said, “It’s not a problem—we’re running right now. We will wear them afterward.”

Because it was my first day of Face Mask Required and I had read the dire threats of jail and fines, I kept mine on. By mile 3.5 I was feeling light-headed from inadequate oxygen-intake, and 80%  (according to scientific analysis) of all runners I passed were not wearing face masks. I pulled mine down and let it bounce around my neck and finished my run while breathing in the fresh dusty air of N’djamena like all the other running rebels, feeling like a dental patient with one of those bibs on to catch the drool.

Face mask running

My very-cool African fabric face mask, which reminds me
of one of my favorite Chadian memes...

When you go to pick up your clothes from the tailor and see that
everyone there is wearing a face mask made from your material. 😆

While in the past, I would have been one of maybe 3 morning runners, the stadium where people jog around in circles like hamsters has been closed because of coronavirus, so people are experimenting with street running. I don’t mind this because there aren’t really that many of them, I like passing people, and Chadians are mostly very encouraging when they see runners, yelling “courage!” at you so you don’t feel you need to stop and die by the side of the road—Henry admits to getting a burst of energy at the end of our first 4 mile run together. “That ‘courage’ really pushed me,” he told me. Yes, as a woman running, I’ve had the occasional rude comment that makes me consider using the pepper spray Annie gave me a few years ago (thanks, Annie!), but I’ve had many more “courages” yelled than otherwise. And also a few “ni haos” because somehow I look Chinese? I guess you can take the girl out of Asia, but her blue eyes and mousy brown hair will always tell you that she is probably Chinese.

Just a Chinese girl driving in her car with a puppy

Since being corona-stuck together, Henry, my Kenyan coworker mentioned above, and I have been running together sometimes, often with Joe. Joe is great when you are just starting to run because he gives you bursts of speed when he sees a goat or cow on the road in front of him, and every 5 minutes or so, he gets tired of running and MUST stop to smell the nearest poop—cow, dog, goat, human (yes—many of my neighbors do not have toilets in their homes, it’s part of why I’m here, but talking about poop is less socially acceptable than talking about water, so you may not have known that).  So you get lots of breaks with Joe, while also moments of sprinting. Henry likes to hold the leash (he loves Joe, just like every sane person who has ever met him) so he also gets an arm work-out, holding Joe back from attacking snobby goats that taunt him with their tasty freedom.

Love this photo of the puppy trying to walk Joe because
Joe's face cracks me up!

Thanks to all his great workouts with me, Henry was able to fulfill his duty as a Kenyan and win the 5k race I held for Neverthirst. I was very proud of him, though I had been planning to win myself. When I got to the halfway mark and couldn’t see any of my friends and colleagues behind me, I decided that I should go back and make sure that everyone knew where they were going. And I realized it was one of those moments when I needed to quell my competitive instincts and make sure that Emelie did not die on her first attempt at a 5k. Good news: she did not. But she did hobble around for another 3 days after that, saying her whole body hurt and she had to hold on to things to ease herself into a chair or pull her body out of the chair. Henry and I recommended continuing an exercise program at a reduced scale, but by the time she felt better she said she didn’t want to feel that way again, and so I do not think Emelie will be starting an Instagram Exercise Influencer account any time soon.

Note: one of these guys was running in flipflops and others in dress shoes,
so winning this race would never have been a testimony to my superiority,
but asics might be able to make a commercial about how their shoes
are easier to run in than flipflops.

If you or anyone you know wants to do a 5k for Neverthirst, find out more about that here (deadline is May 16-I think): https://www.neverthirstwater.org/5k

This is unrelated to this post,
but I thought I'd pass along this helpful solution
 in case you are ever in the same situation.

In other news, my next door neighbor was arrested for running an illegal bar next door to my house. I realized this while scrolling mindlessly through Facebook, as one does, and suddenly noticed there was a photo of my house that I hadn’t posted. I read the article, which included a clever pun mocking the name of the bar, and was so excited that the bane of my existence was closed. No more loud raucous parties and drunk men hanging about! Until last week, when I thought I heard noises, but I ignored them, thinking it was my imagination. When I saw the balloon in my front yard the next day, I figured something must have happened there. The guard told me the party was so loud, he went over to tell them to turn it down. I’m guessing she was celebrating getting out of jail by throwing a drunken party for her and her friends—still illegal, but you can’t keep her down! Or maybe now she knows who she has to bribe to keep her fake liquor license…who knows? At least she can’t play music over speakers and I can drown out drunken singing with my fan.

Partying with Joe

If you are interested in reading the article or you want to see what my gate and my neighbor's gate looks like, go here (my house is the green gate): https://tchadinfos.com/faits-divers/fait-divers-fermeture-dun-debit-de-boisson-clandestin-a-ndjamena/

Another neighbor's house that says in French on one side and Arabic on the other:
"Forbidden to enter in here Corona" and the Arabic side politely adds 'for your health and our health.'
Henry and I are wondering if this is an anti-theft policy (see how they casually leave the door open) or what.

Finally, this past month has seen an increase in videos on my phone, not just the videos I’ve taken of the puppies, but also because I’ve filmed some for Neverthirst. Some of them they aren’t using, as they were probably too terrible for the internet, and others are mashed into a video for monthly partners. So if you want to see that one, you need to go be a monthly partner with Neverthirst because it is EXCLUSIVE CONTENT. It was filmed over the course of a day, traveling to Dourbali, hanging with Moussa and his family, shamelessly bribing kids to stay in the 113/45 degree heat with candy. They didn’t have to stay too long, but I definitely felt bad every time I screwed up a take. And then when the phone overheated because it was too hot, I had to go sit in the car with the AC cranked up, trying to cool it down so that it would turn on again.

It seems I talk with my hands a bit.

The new government official who likes us
(the former one who didn't was voted out in a few months--power of democracy!)

Goat on a motorbike--happy Ramadan!

With Nadji and family in front of their new house.
I brought the puppy with me for the kids to play with.
There was much happiness.

So that’s life these days—running, sweating, working at the office, wearing face masks sometimes, planning how to report my neighbor to the police, trying to fix my shower with my Swiss army knife (didn’t mention that, it’s an on-going saga), and still no consensus on names for the puppy. Henry has given me some good Swahili and Luo options, as well as some new things to yell at mjinga drivers on the road, so I basically speak Swahili now, but he still calls the Puppy “TP” for “Tiny Puppy” and the fact that this is American slang for toilet paper in these trying times of toilet paper shortage (for you—we are still fine here) is not lost on us. Please vote on the following names and I may or may not actually choose a name for her.

1.     Tiny Puppy, aka TP

2.     Puppiko - Emelie’s preference because she thinks I called her that one time, which is possible because I say lots of things in a high squeaky voice when I am talking to a small adorable creature.

3.     Kakilé - Moussa’s preference as it means “beware of danger” in Fulfulde and this dog is afraid of nothing and no one and loves a good fight.

4.     Kogo  - Ngambaye for ‘smile’ (Ngambaye is a local tribal language that most of my colleagues speak)

5.     Bishi – Ngambaye for dog, which means all the Ngambayes say “No, don’t call her that. That is what she IS, it's not a name.”

6.     Nasara – local term for ‘white person’ which I think is funny, but may confuse her when I take her on walks as people always yell ‘nasara, nasara’ at me when I’m out.

7.     Kim – for a tribe here that is known for always running TO a fight and never from it. But this could be problematic if a Kim is offended by me naming my dog after his or her tribe as you don’t want to mess with a Kim. They might not realize that I think of it as a compliment, though my friend who is a Kim did laugh when I told him.

8.     Cheka – Swahili for ‘smile’ but Victor (also Kenyan) believes that we should not pick a Swahili name for a Chadian puppy.

9.     Msupa is Swahili for ‘pretty, cute thing’ says Henry, but since the Puppy has started biting ankles and has ripped some of Henry’s trousers, he hasn’t been too keen to call her this.

10. Kwach is Luo (a Kenyan tribe—Henry’s tribe) for ‘tiger,’ so said Henry when he suggested it to me because we know that Puppy is ferocious. When I challenged him on why the Luo would have a word for ‘tiger’ when they don’t actually have tigers in Kenya, he specified that they use it for all types of big cats—panthers, cheetahs, the mythical tiger, etc.

11. Pika is the suggestion from Antani’s kids who heard it on TV. I’m wondering if Pokemon shows on TV here possibly?

12. Zilla, short for Godzilla, which is Claire’s preference. She told me the other day that she is tired of me not choosing a name for the puppy, she’s worried that it will be traumatised (British) and so she has arbitrarily decided to call her “Zilla.”

13. There have been many more suggestions, thanks to my nieces and nephews (I liked ‘Sharky’  and ‘Raptor’ because I have been bitten a lot), but feel free to write in your suggestions and add to the impossibility of picking a name for my poor confused fierce ball of teething energy.

Here are some photos so you can see her personality, to help you with your decision.

That's her, squeezed in the middle of York and Joe.

All three dogs wiped out after destroying my house.

On a Masai blanket from Kenya that Jack and his fiancée gave me.
You could make a case for naming her something in Swahili.

Sound asleep in Henry's arms. He likes her, but Joe is his favorite.

I sent this photo to Emelie so she would take Shalom off the list
of possible names for the Puppy. She agreed, but says if I had named
her Shalom from the first, she would never have turned out like this.

I was worried about how the dogs' water bowl was always empty.
I felt really bad that they were always so thirsty and I wasn't on top of it.
Then I saw Puppy splash all the water out of the bowl.
I got her a bigger bowl and she decided to relax in the bath with the emoji of a glass of wine,
which I added to the photo because she is so classy, and I am hilarious.

Why haven't you picked a name for me yet, human?

And she does love stealing the toilet paper,
chewing it up and leaving bits of it all over the house.

"Hehehe, but I'm cute!"

I love them so much.
Also, the Chadian soldier who gave me the puppy told me yesterday
that he is going to give me the other dog that I originally wanted,
but don't worry--I already named him Flip.
And there is still room for him on the bed after I de-tick him.

Chad Corona, Hot Season, and Anniversaries

With Kadidja and Fadouma, chatting about their

daily quest to get water and petting their donkeys.

I was planning to write about hot season because hot season is always an Event, but then I was reminded that it was my 8 year anniversary with Neverthirst while I was in Dourbali listening to Moussa and some of his ministry friends chat about the old days. So I thought about writing about that, and then I thought maybe I should write about how coronavirus is affecting us here in Chad because there have been some entertaining moments, but maybe everyone is sick of hearing about the coronavirus? I guess I’ll just mash everything up into one long super-blog and call it a day.

Anyway, like I said—it is hot season here now. So hot the steering wheel burns your hands when you get in the car and your silver jewelry heats up instantly, which can be unpleasant. It’s not too bad for me, born in the desert/raised on the equator, but it really is nice to have AC occasionally. Fans help, but when it’s really hot, mostly they just move really hot air around the room, so you feel like you’re inside of a hairdryer plugged into the wrong voltage (but not the one that blows up the hairdryer—the other one that makes it go too slowly). Now that you are sensing the depth of my knowledge of the complexities of electricity, you will not be surprised to read that when Henry and I tried to fix my non-functioning air conditioner by applying the classic “turn it off and on again” method to the electrical system in our compound, we ended up breaking everything. 

Fixing the electricity-what you can't see
is that everyone was sweating buckets in that room.

It was around 7pm, 38/100 degrees out. We called Urbain. He came right over, like the hero that he is, and told us a bunch of words for what the problem was. I didn’t understand most of the words, so I cannot put them in this blog, but my favorite part was when he asked me if I had any copper wire to give him to fix the thing that was broken.  (Note: we did not break the Thing. Well, we did, but the Thing was about to die anyway, so actually it is a good thing that we broke the Thing before it broke by itself because we were able to fix it.). Did I have any copper wire just lying around?  No, I did not. But Urbain found a bit of old cable and extracted something and tied it to something and wound that around something and anyway, he fixed it. I’m telling you that there is no stopping African innovation. We had power all night long! The next day Urbain went to get the real thing that we needed to fix the Thing that we broke from one of the shops that is considered non-essential and was closed due to the Coronavirus. No problems-he knows the guy. He got the thing. And this is how commerce is working during these days of coronavirus in Chad.

Speaking of the coronavirus, we have around 30 cases confirmed in country, no deaths, and 5 or so recoveries. However, we have implemented various precautions around the country because everyone else is doing it, and we thought we would follow along. Note: this includes sending funny memes around in French/Arabic/Chadian Frabic (French/Arabic combined, don’t try to use this word, I just made it up right now and I don’t know if others have been this clever before me-likely, but as yet unproven). I’ve really enjoyed laughing in multiple languages. I’ve also seen some of the same jokes in English and French, which shows how unifying this whole disaster has been to global culture.

A meme that Hervé and I laughed at a lot. 

So here in Chad, churches, mosques, schools, restaurants, bars, gatherings over 50 people and shops not selling food are all supposed to be closed (though, as mentioned previously, if you know the shop owner or someone who knows the shop owner or someone who knows someone who knows the shop owner, you can still buy what you need). One excellent side benefit of this is that there is no more thumping music at night, and I’m not saying that it makes it worth it to have a global pandemic, I’m just saying that it is possible to appreciate things that happen because of the global pandemic, just like those of you who are appreciating working from home in your pajamas.

This Eagle Wings Hot Liquid Oil from Cameroon,
source of the virus in Chad was still a must for me
because of course it was.

We have hand-washing stations outside of all officially open stores and offices (ours too!), and I’m telling you, Chad has never been so hygienic. We had a curfew of 7pm to 6am that was recently changed to 8pm to 5am. This pleased me, as I like to get out before 6am to run. But I followed the curfew, though I could hear many people NOT following the curfew while I waited for 6am to go out and run. But I know that nasaras will be disproportionally targeted for curfew violation fines, and anyway, I should probably follow the laws of the country where I live, even if I fail to see how a curfew will prevent the spread of the virus when circulation continues as normal during the daytime.

Hand-washing station in front of our office
And the water is naturally heated by the sun!

Then there was the great face mask debacle. It was declared that from 14 April, everyone should wear facemasks in public. I heard late in the day and decided I would have to skip my run the next morning, not having any face masks handy. I was planning a system with which I could tie a face mask haphazardly over my ears and wear it whilst running, but I had to purchase one first. Fortunately for Joe who absolutely MUST have his morning constitutional, the government had made allowances for head scarves and turbans to be used to cover the face. I diligently followed the rules, using the same logic as I did for the curfew (save money on fines so I have enough to buy the good candy), and went out, wrapped in a head scarf. I noticed quickly I was one of about 10 rule-following dorks out that morning. Fortunately, by 2pm that day (incidentally after we had procured face masks for everyone in the office), the great Face Mask Imperative was canceled by the government due to “not enough supplies for everyone.”

I did get to use my face mask once when Henry asked me to drive him
home a bit early because he wasn't feeling well. He was a good sport about all
my coronavirus jokes and he's fine--don't worry!

Speaking of things that don’t help everyone, the Chadian president speeched later that week, promising that the government will pay electric bills for 3 months and water bills for 6 months for people in N’djamena. This benefits the very small percentage of people in N’djamena who actually have electricity and city water in their homes, of which I am lucky to be one. However, the side effect of that announcement has been that almost every day since we have had significant power cuts, lasting hours at a time because the electric company is motivated to save the President a bit of money probably. But in a fortunate turn of events, a friend who was evacuated with the American Embassy left me the keys to her fully-air conditioned house with automatic backup generator and a pool. Henry and I (and Victor and Claire too) have been enjoying moments of coolness, and I’ve been teaching him some swimming. Suck it, Bandung Alliance International School Swimming Teachers of Young Amanda who never thought she was paying attention to what you were teaching her because she was too busy complaining about the cold water you were forcing her to be in. Henry now knows the breast stroke and he will be learning the front crawl soon.  He’s also finally mastered jumping onto one of those floaty rafts, and we have had a few races across the pool, using pool noodles as paddles.

Henry can swim AND get on a floaty raft. If there is a tsunami in Chad,
he will survive because of my spectacular swim coaching skills.

Easter in the AC-thanks, Lisa!
Chapatis and chicken stew-thanks, Victor!

Anyway, enough about the virus, it was also my 8 year anniversary of working with Neverthirst. I never thought I would last so long with one organization, but I’m also super lazy about applying for jobs (you send them a CV and you also have to type everything from your CV into their website—this seems like a waste of everyone’s time), so I guess it was inevitable. Working with Neverthirst has introduced me to many new cultures and languages, from India to South Sudan to Chad to Alabama. With Neverthirst I have traveled or worked in more than 10 countries on 4 continents (not even counting North America). I’ve had to change over and set up new offices, find new projects, escape warzones, speak on local television programs, and talk my way out of fines and jail time for certain videographers. I’ve seen the Neverthirst culture grow, change, twist dangerously, and heal. I’ve considered quitting many times, but God kept me in the game.

Little Amanda in India 2012-had not mastered balancing the scarf on my shoulders
so it functioned like an unnecessary neck-warmer.

With the one and only Antony Samy in Nepal,
who taught me most of the important things that I know about working in WASH
in developing nations. 

With Ester Roba in South Sudan, heading out to plant some peanuts in her garden.

And as I read through slack messages from my colleagues about this 8 year anniversary for me and one other guy and sent stupid photos of each other back and forth, I was sitting in a group of men at Pastor Moussa’s house and they were reminiscing about the old days too. I’d brought Nadji and his wife Tabitha to Dourbali with me, as they were old colleagues with Moussa and his wife Marthe in the Lake Chad region for years. When I saw Tabitha and Marthe greet each other with so much joy and laughter, I realize that I need to make this happen more often for Marthe’s sake—she never complains, but she rarely gets out of Dourbali, while Moussa often travels to conferences and events. Nadji and Tabitha worked in Dourbali for a short time as well, and it was handy having Nadji with me, as the police decided to pull us over because we are white people traveling (one white person, but I was driving, so extra visible). They were giving us a hard time until Nadji hobbled over in his cast and then, “Oh Doctor! When did you get here? So good to see you again. Are you moving back here? Oh, just a visit? It’s ok, go on, no problem, no problem.” So that was handy.

Tabitha and Marthe

Tabitha and Marthe posed photo-Marthe says she doesn't
smile much because she doesn't have nice teeth like Moussa,
but Tabitha and I assured her that she is beautiful and we love her smile.

This is not important, but will someone please tell me
why a pick-up truck needs a button for opening the trunk?

I’m getting side-tracked, but Tabitha and Marthe were catching up, talking fast in a tribal language that I don’t know, but the men were all on the other side of the curtain-wall speaking French, so I was listening to them. Pastor Rene from N’djamena who also used to work in the Lake Region was there too.

Pastor Rene and Nadji catching up--it was hot, like I said,
thus the elaborate fans.

Pastor Rene said, “Remember that time we were going to have that conference for missionaries in Bol when we were all working by the Lake? And how we didn’t have enough money, so we were thinking about canceling it? But we decided to pray about it first. And then Nadji, you went fishing. Remember? And you threw the nets out and caught 80 kilos (over 175lbs) of fish! And we sold it and it was enough to pay for the conference!”

Everyone is laughing and saying, “Yeah, yeah, I remember that. That was a great conference.”

I popped my head up from sending a photo of me on the job in India in 2012 to ask them, “What was the theme of the conference that was so good?”

“Prayer!” they said, laughing at me. I’m guessing any Prayer Conference that starts out with a miracle is going to be pretty good.

The dream team: Nesie (discipled by Moussa and Rene),
Pastor Moussa, Pastor Rene, Nadji, and Pastor Eli

There have been some pretty sucky days working with Neverthirst, I’m not going to lie. But there have been more good days and so many good stories like that one that I’ve heard from faithful servants of the Lord. I loved hearing former Hindus talk about how once they decided to follow Jesus, they realized that God loves everyone, even the Dalit, and they started to love and serve people they previously wouldn’t have even allowed to touch them. I’ve seen South Sudanese singing praises to God even as they hid in the bush from people destroying their town (we were far enough away and the guns were loud so we weren’t in any danger of being discovered). I’ve listened to stories from my Kenyan drilling chief working to provide water to people in South Sudan while avoiding bombing raids from North Sudan during the war. I’ve heard Leif talk about dodging bullets while trying to start up a relief project in Somalia back in the day. I’ve joined in singing and dancing in various mud churches around this continent, consistently being the worst dancer (though not usually the most tuneless singer, contrary to what you might expect, as volume tends to be more important than tone in most churches where I’ve been—it’s a joyful noise, though). Anyway, the good has outweighed the bad, I believe. You never know what the Lord has for your future—I might stay with Neverthirst until I die or I might get fired tomorrow for saying “sucky days” on the internet or supporting the wrong Alabamian football team (Roll Eagle or whatever). But anyway, I think I have a few more adventures left in me.

And here are a bunch of photos of various recent adventures:

Moussa's granddaughter wants him to open her candy for her.

Selfies with some cool kids

Iyagana and Didja are sisters and friends who wanted to show off
the henna on their hands. They are all dressed up for a wedding.

Iyagana wanted a photo with me. I think she has a career as an Instagram model.
If I were on Instagram, I would help launch her career. She's got the smirk down nicely.

Harun, chief of the village where Iyagana and Didja live.
This is his hand pump behind him. People come from all over to use it,
as it is one of the few in the area that works, though it breaks down frequently due to the depth of the pump.

Nomads setting up camp near Pastor Moussa's house so that they can use his water.

Another nearby crowded water source.
The horse helps pull the water up.

Nadji says goodbye to Moussa's family

Moussa says goodbye to Nadji's wife, Tabitha

I got a new puppy! It's a long story. If you want to know how it happened, I'll tell you.
If you just want to see many photos of this adorable puppy, keep scrolling down.

Joe checks out the puppy. He is not sure about this new "friend."

I am sure. I love her. But I am not sure what her name should be.

Now they're friends! I mostly call her "Tiny Puppy".
Her other names are Shalom (Emelie's idea that I vetoed because Shalom is not a peaceful creature),
Bishi (means 'dog' in Ngambaye and makes the Ngambayes annoyed--'That is what she IS, not her name.'),
Nasara because I think it is funny, Pika because Antani's kids heard it on TV and like it, Mike Tyson because she likes biting my ears, Puppiko because that is something Emelie heard me squeal at her in a high-pitched voice, and more.

All my dogs!

How cute is Tiny Puppy in the flower pot!!
It's like Anne Geddes for puppies!

Oh right, I have 3 dogs because York belongs to a guy who works for the Embassy
who was evacuated and could't take him along. I told him I would look after York for him,
and in return he brought me 3 giant bags of dogfood that none of the dogs will eat unless one dog is eating it and then
they suddenly decide it must be desirable, a box full of canned goods, spices I already had, and a giant jar of nutella (finished that in two days), and some giant tubs of candy I don't like so I gave to less picky children who were thrilled.

My happy, beautiful puppies!