Happy Eid-ul-Fitr!

Ramadan-related food advertising came as a bit of a surprise

Tonight, if the Conseil Supérieur des Imams (Superior Council of Imams) gets credible reports of a moon sighting in Cote d'Ivoire, Ramadan 2014 will end and all the good Muslims in the country can celebrate Eid ul Fitr, the breaking of the fast.  It has already been spotted in Saudia Arabia apparently.  If it's too cloudy though (and it is rainy season) they have to wait until tomorrow.

I haven't quite worked out religion here.  In theory the north is predominantly Muslim, but a lot of traders originally from the north settled all over the country, sometimes going back several generations, so there is a Muslim presence even in the supposedly more Christian south.  Daloa, right in the center, has a Grand Mosque in the middle of town,  but also a cathedral, and dozens of evangelical churches.  They say the country is about 40% Muslim and 30% Christian but that the majority is animist.  That doesn't add up, so I guess you can go with how you're feeling at the moment.

A lot of the locals, ones I work with but also people around the city, visibly observed the fast.  Almost all of the troops here did too, being from Muslim countries - the only exceptions were the Bangladesh Air Force pilots, who practically apologized as they shared their lunch with me after taking me to a remote camp - the military rules prohibit them from fasting on days when they're flying.

There is clearly a sense of honor in observing, because only children and the sick (or pregnant) are exempt, and a certain pride that comes with exercising patience, but I was most impressed by the gratitude that it seems to bring out.  Gratitude for the health that entitles each to participate, and for the food and drink which they eventually share, and for the sharing itself, with friends and family and even strangers.

Wikipedia says the usual greeting for the breaking of the fast is Eid Mubarak, or Blessed Eid.  I tried that out on one of the security guards as he left for evening prayers and he looked at me blankly, so I'm not totally convinced.  It's getting dark now, so to all the Muslims in Cote d'Ivoire who are looking to the skies, I hope you see the moon, and wish you and all those celebrating (or waiting to celebrate) around the world a Blessed Eid.

Grand Mosque of Séguéla, one of the prettiest, I think

Some interesting links about Ramadan here: Huffington post, Ramadan.co.uk, and on the religions of Cote d'Ivoire (in French) here: Abidjan.net

On the job

Engineering is one of the field service support units providing backup for the good men and women, both military and civilian, of UNOCI's field services as they monitor human rights and the protection of children, and make sure that the demobilized groups are reintegrated into civil society, and rule of law is respected in the courts and the prisons.

My job is to make sure the mission has safe drinking water, and that all sewage is disposed of appropriately.  In practice this means keeping tanks like the one in the picture full of water with enough chlorine to kill any bacteria that might take our minds off our work, and dispatching our team of local plumbers and electricians to deal with leaks or problems with the "ablutions" (prefab toilet/shower blocks).  Yes, the position of Volunteer Water and Sanitation Engineer is as glamorous as it sounds.

Many of the other field service support staff are also volunteers, mostly from other African countries, with the occasional West Indian and south Asian.  The military contingents are each responsible for their own area of Sector West, and we have Bangladeshi, Pakistani, Nigerien (from Niger not Nigeria, whose nationals are Nigerians - tricky!), Moroccan, Jordanian and Beninese (what Google says you call someone from Benin).  All that I have met so far are very welcoming, and I'm never allowed to go back to Daloa without having at least had a snack and some juice, even though it's Ramadan and all of them are fasting.

I'm still a bit of a novelty around here.  The Pakistani crane operating unit who delivered the new ablution to a Bangladeshi camp this week thought it was worth a picture, so I had them take one for me too.

Firsts

This is it, my first blog posting, first full month in Cote d'Ivoire, first weekend in my new house in Daloa, first peacekeeping mission, first time working with the military (not as organized as I expected!), first time doing water treatment, not just wastewater, and first time actually responsible for the water quality, not just the design (stress!).

I had never been in a country emerging from war before, and before arrival I had to do an online security training course.  It included tips on what to do when you find yourself in a minefield, or being shot at.  I was pretty apprehensive and you can imagine my reaction when they said I would be driving on my own between cities to the different camps.  But in fact the security situation is not a problem.  Staff who were here during la crise had a rough time, but now things are stable, and I was very happy to hear there aren't any land mines.  We drive around in our loudly labelled UN SUVs and trucks without any trouble.  

I'm getting the hang of it, little by little.  Last week I took my first trip on my own, driving home from the port of San Pedro, about 4 hours away under normal conditions.  But it's rainy season and one section of the road was half washed away.  It was all under control, the military was directing traffic, but it took a long time to get through.  I was prepared, and had lots of water and some snacks with me.   

All that water caught up with me later on, though, and I took a little side road into a cacao plantation to relieve myself discretely.  Mission accomplished, I tried to turn the car around but the ground off the path was very soft and I sank right in, up to the axle.  I was just getting ready to radio for a rescue (first time driving around in cars with CB radios) when a couple of young men came by and started to help dig me out.  About an hour later, and with the help of 3 more of their friends, I was back on the road.  The trip took about 7 hours, all told.  It seems that I'm not going to encounter "normal conditions" often here.

I'm looking forward to the other firsts that will come along in my next months in the region.  I'll do my best to keep you posted.