We stopped at guesthouse 26 to pick up the TV from Brad who left in September. This caused a flurry of radio calls. Even if you are a trustworthy foreigner, you can’t just show up at a house and take a TV away. After the necessary signatures in logbooks they let it go and we moved the TV to our new house.
At guesthouse 33 we found the cook and various workers and guards busy with installing, moving, more buffing and polishing. Only the refrigerator was still standing outside on the terrace; all the kitchen cabinets had been moved in place and the kitchen floor was about to be installed.
We are like newlyweds after the party is over. The dining room cabinets were filled with kitchen stuff of the kind you would get at a wedding: food processor, thermos flasks, a box with a complete set of pans, silverware, dinnerware, etc. I could tell that the cook was anxious to move everything into the kitchen and start cooking on the brand-new stove. All these expenses are, in a way part of the Quick Impact surge to win hearts and minds. I am sure that the heart and mind of our cook is already won, plus that of all the other laborers in and around our house.
The curtains were installed over the white cotton cloth that covers all the windows. The result of this is that, in a way, there are no windows and you cannot look inside out or outside in. Part of this cover up is to catch shattering glass but it is also to protect me from the eyes of the male workers in and around the house or them from catching glimpses of me. It’s a modern variation of purdah but I do plan to roll the cloth up and let some real light come in. I just have to be aware of my state of (un)dress.
After that Axel went for lunch while I continued what would be a very long day with an afternoon meeting at USAID. It is very hard to get into the embassy compound as is to be expected. The security contractors outside the outer perimeter change all the time and so there never seem to be standards operating procedures. This time, after waiting for about 20 minutes by the entrance we were let in but my name was missing from the list (no spontaneous meetings here). Luckily an official (as shown by the ID card on a lanyard) came to get us and I was let in. From leaving our office to getting seated at the conference table takes over an hour.
After that Steve and I participated in a conference call with Boston in a quarterly ritual to check on money matters. We hovered over a cellphone speaker and I listened to a kind of conversation I have never in my 23 years been part of. On the Cambridge site contracts, finance and admin people get a chance to ask questions (or chastise us as the case may be, not this time) to make sure all project transactions are transparent and in line with rules, regulations and contract requirements.
I was only listening in, not contributing, because I am still learning this financial and contract management language, while wondering how the hell financial and operations managers can see order into what is a process of enormous complexity and constant flux, with dollars going in and Afs and dollars going out (such as paying for all our wedding gifts).
All the while Axel was sitting in my office trying to get to his email in a system that doesn’t know about Macs. It’s good I liberated him from that frustration to take him home, and myself, after another 11 hour workday.
At home I was too pooped to blog, hence the late posting; instead we joined our housemates eating in front of the TV watching the BBC interview Kai Eide explain the removal of some 600 UN workers from Kabul. I was surprised how little this bothered me. We are just settling in, and leaving is very far from our minds.
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