The psychology of 'lock down'

I've only been here 4 days, but I'm already struggling with the concept of not being allowed 'out'.

For our own safety we have a very short list of 'places we go' that have all passed a rigorous security check, and all our movements are very closely tracked.  Sunday I went for brief trip with a colleague and a driver to one of the Ministries to register my presence in the country. Then yesterday, in anticipation of a potentially inflammatory press conference in the city, the office was closed early, the local staff went home and us foreigners were put on 'lock down'.
For those who have been here a while it meant ordering in pizza and watching a grid iron game.  But
I was horrified. I know our movements are highly restricted, but somehow categorically not being allowed to leave the building made me desperately want to get out even more.  I found some peace on the roof where, under all my layers of material I can look out over the sprawling city and see where the haze blends into the mountain tops. I can watch the kites and the pigeons and people doing what I can not- walking on the streets.

By this evening the press conference hadn't eventuated and some of my colleagues wanted to go to the supermarket, so I excitedly agreed and a few hours later we were off :-) all appropriately dressed, into the car, doors locked, radio check-in to say we are leaving the compound, gates opened, driven out into the street and to the supermarket which really resembled a small 3 storey department store.  No wide, automated doors here- a small door at the side marked 'entrance' takes you to a guard who frisks the men and then you make your way up a narrow flight of stairs to the collection of foreign products above. Im ashamed to say I spent almost $70 on snack food etc - but when every aspect of your life feels controlled by someone else, its nice to know that you have a stash of almonds, or potato chips :-)

The male shop attendant akwardly serves us and we file back out- straight into the waiting vehicle, home via the back streets with a radio check in that we have arrived back.  Hardly a day out BUT Im not complaining.  This is how we stay safe in the city, and I will have much more freedom when I start working rurally.  My mind wanders to how Im going to survive 3 months in winter when we're all locked in this building with meters of snow outside. It really doesn't bear thinking about. I think I'll have some potato chips :-)

First impressions

Flying in from the south, this country looks like a moonscape from the air.  Mountains with deep valleys as far as the hazy horizon in monochrome dusty yellow.  I desperately wanted to take photos, but that involved getting my camera from a bag in the overhead locker and disturbing the 2 men sitting next to me who hadn't so much as looked at me the duration of the flight.  *sigh* I'm sure there will be plenty more opportunities.

Getting out of the airport carrying/dragging 40kgs of luggage about 600m through three ch3ckpoints out to the carpark was a mission in itself.  At 6.30am the sun was already high, the air hot and dusty, and lots of mens eyes followed the path of the strange foreigner pack-horse who's head scarf kept slipping back.  My ride was late enough for me to begin contemplating what finding my own way in this huge city might involve, but they were just held up by a random road closure and associated traffic chaos.

Safely in our compound, it’s dusk and I’m sitting on the balcony (all screened for s3cur1ty) listening to half a dozen m0squ3s calling the faithful. A goat bleating nearby, the thump of an axe on firewood combined with the thump of feet against a football and boys voices on the warm, dusty breeze. My long sleeves, baggy pants, dress and headscarf aren’t the coolest outfit around but during the day they protect me from stares and right now…from mozzies!


Above the green screen mesh I can see a blue grey sky that somehow still shows the yellow smog, with a 3/4 moon.  And a kite; just one to complete the image of this place I have read so much about.
My lips are dry. My hands are dry. The air sucks out moisture and deposits a fine layer of dust everywhere in its place. This is my new city home.

Our compound is heavy on ‘passive’ s3cur1ty. i.e. no 5uns, but every d3f3nse you can image.  The house over the road aren’t so worried about pacifism and have @rm3d patrols…and 80mb proofing. sobering. My room is on the 3rd floor with high windows (that I have to climb on my desk to see out) but its spacious and comfortable. We are not to walk outside our gates in the city. ever.  But we do have drivers to assist with getting the necessities done.  The city feels surprisingly relaxed…except for the traffic :-)

I have been very thankful to spend most of today meeting LOTS of colleagues (i don't know how I'm ever going to remember all their names!), in briefings and will soon have the opportunity to go to the field with colleagues to watch and learn before I have to knuckle down and do my job. I am very thankful for this.

The things I have found the hardest (in all of 1.5 days!) is lack of sleep, the frequent sound of large h3l1c0pt3rs just cruising over the city and remembering not to drink the water from the tap (and all the associated food hygiene logistical challenges of cooking safely).  But overall, I think I'm gonna fit in here pretty well.