It's all about timing

I was invited to a community meeting in Kelara today, where officials from the forestry and other offices, people from BRI bank, and members of the community would discuss credit facilities for farmers. Not directly in my line of work, but I tend to go to these things as there's usually a lunch attached. The meeting agenda was set for a 0900 start.

Here's how the schedule actually went:

Night before: I fix a time with partner from forestry office: we'll set off at 0630. The meeting starts at 0900, and it's around half an hour away by motorcycle. Still, I think we may have preparation to do.
0630: I'm washed, dressed and breakfasted, ready to go. Partner says we'll go after he's taken his children to school. OK.
0700: Partner returns from school run. Decides to have breakfast.
0730: We're off. Travel for 5 minutes then stop on outskirts of Jeneponto. Partner tries to trace colleague who we're following to Kelara by mobile. No sign - there's an unconfirmed rumour that he's doing some photocopying.
0730-0830: Hang around by side of road. I watch some goats. 
0830: Colleague tracked down to agriculture office. We ride back into Jeneponto to find rest of colleagues from forestry office hanging around the agriculture office too.
0900: We're off again - a clear run to Kelara.
0930: Arrive Kelara, only half an hour late. No one else has turned up yet.
1000: Community members start to arrive.
1030: People from bank arrive, and the meeting is finally underway. I understand only little of what's being said. Each member of panel must speak for at least 15 minutes in a monotone.
1230: Close and lunch.
1330: Return to Jeneponto.

Attendance was interesting too: I counted 17 government officials, and 11 members of the community. So time and money well spent I think.











The panel at today's meeting - alert to answer any question.

Cheesy does it

I've not posted recently, as I've had nothing positive to say. But today, things started to get better. Why? I had a cheese sandwich.

It may not sound much, but I've been having a tolerably unpleasant time in Jeneponto so far - no work to do, finding the heat oppressive, and finding the culture difficult to adapt to. But yesterday I bought a fridge, and so today I could go shopping for luxuries like fresh vegetables. And cheese.

Prochiz, tomato and bread - the ultimate in western style foodstuffs.











As you might expect, it's not up to Melton Mowbray Red Leicester standards, but "Prochiz" is the only cheese available here. The tomatoes are a bit ropy too - things that would go into chutney or the compost bin if I'd grown them at home. But add the Indonesian white sliced loaf, and you have the makings of a luxurious lunch.


The final product - will somebody send me some Branston Pickle?











This humble comestible has made living here a little more bearable. My house is OK - a palace compared to one fellow volunteer's mosquito infested hole, and Glenda the Honda GLMax seems to be behaving herself, after some fuelling problems. I suspect the diet of cruddy petrol sold out of old vegetable oil bottles from roadside shacks has made her a bit grumpy - so I've treated her to some nice, clean stuff from the petrol station.

Now all I need is something to do at work...

The new house. The socks spell out "England expects every man to do his duty".












Glenda the Honda.