a day in the life...

I have had quite few people ask what i do each day, so here is a full description of one fairly typical but definitely long day.

Its 7am and a glowing disk has appeared in the sky. The temperatures are rising rapidly. Dissatisfied with the sleep i decide to slide my mattress further into the shade and sneak a few more hours. Again I wake, this time to the sensation of something happening at the other end of my body. I assume someone is playing a joke and decide to try and sleep through it. However, it persists and i take action, looking out from under my sack I see the culprit, a slimy little lizard as it runs off towards the stairs. The cheeky little prick.

I get up and squint, to avoid visual contact with the disk, my way through the sandpit to find the shower. The toilet / shower (literally combined, the swat toilet acts as the drain) wreaks of stale urine and should probably be condemned but i force jammed door open to find the light switch with exposed writing, but that's irrelevant because there's no electricity, i enter the shower and check for water, joy.

The next few hours are spent hopping through the village from shade to shade, looking at how the houses are made, the state of the infrastructure and chatting with Michel. We talk with some men at the camel market, low quality specimens means only 1000USD per unit. I am now suitably tired and satisfied that Tidjikdja has been explored and we decide to head back to the auberge (budget hotel / camping).

Walking back Michel and I decide it is high time to blow this joint and see if we can make it to Kiffa this afternoon, about 600 km away. I am happy with this as it is too hot and dead around here. The locals say it is just because of Ramadan (henceforth they are not eating or drinking during the daylight) but others ensure me that it is just the African way of life or their 'adaptation to the climate.' I decide to reserve judgement for a few months. Anyway back to the story, we get back to the auberge, collect our bags and head for the petrol station to attempt a hitch.

We wait about an hour in the shade of a fence when a local man calls us over from under a petrol tanker and invites us to join him (photo). We oblige and i quickly take advantage of the opportunity to embrace the African culture, I lay my mat and go to sleep leaving Michel to interrogate the incoming cars and navigate our African counterpart's pleas for help to acquire visas. Three hours pass and Mohamed rolls up in his beat up old Mercedes van, Michel organises a drop off at a midway junction and we are set to go as soon as the fuel delivered. But hey where is that pump jockey, he has decided that it's time for sleep and has locked the pumps and has gone home. We wait and wait, finally he arrives and we throw our bags into the wreck, i am expecting some begging from the man who invited us under the truck and sure enough just as i have one leg in he says "daniel, i don't have enough money for water, pointing towards the shop", i reach over and get my 1.5 litre bottle that i just brought and offer it to him. He declines and asks for the money, i shut the door and say 'good bye'.

The ride is sweet, we have the front seat with our bags in the back, leg room is ample. The only complaint could be the steaming hot air coming from the motor around my ankles. Constantly we are stopping picking up locals and jamming them into the back, often for rides of just a few kilometres. No payment is expected or taken for this service, Mohamed seems to be a genuine good guy.

We reach the town of Mohamed's home and it is nearing 7pm and time for him to break his daily fast, he asks us to be patient while he stops for ten minutes (Arabic time). Two hours (European time) later it is pitch dark and i am getting tired of fending off the local children's cries of cadeau (French for gift) while searching the town in vain for a place eat cooked food. Dinner ends up being a can of pineapple pieces and a piece of bread served on the step of a shop with water and the mandatory side dish of sand equally applied through all articles.

We reach the drop off point some hour or more later and i am beginning to get tired, some little kids are in front of me laughing and i don't know why, i consider kicking their ass but decide against it. A local family sees what shit heads they are being and invites us to take a pillow and sit under their tent while waiting for a ride on the final leg. I am thinking that we should just crash there for the night and make the rest of the journey in the morning but Michel is keen to keep going and i cant be bothered trying to communicate my feelings.

A filthy Mercedes sedan pulls up headed in our direction, we negotiate and take our place, four men across the back and three across the front and we are loaded and ready to go. Unfortunately i manage to get jammed into one of the middle seats, luckily i got in early and managed to muscle out the bloke beside me to lean against the back. Within ten minutes i am regretting having had the soft drink Michel got me at the stop, now i cant sleep and my legs are feeling restless. The next four hours are a constant challenge to subdue my internal Tourette's Syndrome and demand the car to halt.

We have no plan for Kiffa as we pass the police entry post at about 1am, i keep quite and let Michel run the show as i am tired and have a very short wick at this stage. I am slightly curious about where the sleeping will take place tonight. We arrive and Michel instructs the driver to leave us at a restaurant where we can sleep, the details seem very fuzzy, i think we should just hit the auberge and the taxi driver just wants us the hell out of his car. A massive argument breaks out (in French) between Michel and the driver, as i am walking away all i can understand is Michel's sarcastic comments of GENTIL (good man) repeatedly through the drivers window.

We start to walk and talk with the locals trying to sort out a place to lay our heads. We head out of town and are stopped by a 4 wheel drive police patrol, they ask a few questions and Michel explains. I assume Michel put on the sob story and they offered us to sleep at their post overnight, we climb onto the back. I felt that it was our own fault but i missed a lot of detail since i could not understand and keep quite. Upon arrival we fill out the regulatory paper work and it's 2.30am and time to take some sleep on the pavement on the opposite side of the road, i laugh with Michel about the adventurous day, good night...