Ah, yes, colonialism. Sunday was dedicated to lunch. Under a shady canopy. Overlooking a beach marred only by the presence of a couple of drunk sweaty white men eating their lobster on the sand. Lunch took about three hours to complete, because that's the way the meals are on Sunday at the beach. The wine was even chilled.
After dining we went to a beach for swimming (contrary to the beach I can walk to, which, I have learned, while good for jogging, is no good for swimming because the hospital dumps its waste there) and swam in the dark as a thunderstorm rolled in. Warm water in the rain really can't be beat.
Lest you think I don't suffer enough, however, when the generator shuts off at one in the morning and the air is that special sort of hot still and the one mosquito who managed to make it past the screen barriers has already bitten me twice and I get up in the middle of the night to take a second doxycycline pill because I might have missed the first one and you can't be too sure, and then I lie awake at night because I'm thinking that Johnny the helicopter supplier really should be a subject in this film I'm trying to make and wondering whether in fact I should go East or North first, and how, if nothing is happening in either of those places, to best cut my losses and move on to the next-that is when the night is long and the ease and comfort of America is far away.
And I say this now. Tomorrow, I take a helicopter to Mayamba to observe the Nepali troops' medal ceremony. What, you ask, might this have to do with my project? Well, they are UN troops after all, and my lovely contact, he-who-makes-things-happen-for-me-here, Kemal Saiki, will be pleased if I attend. I suspect that he'd also like a bit of the footage for himself, which is probably fine. There is also a Nepali actor-turned-peacekeeper who made me think: now
THERE is a man Americans will relate to, but the level of his English is still under debate. We'll see. There is also a connection between Mayamba and Makeni, a Northern province and the next place I need to go. I'll hopefully be able to hitch some form of ride with the Nepalis who've attended the ceremony in Mayamba because some of them are based in Makeni. You get the logic, yes? This is why I have to eat and drink so much with these people--I have to convince them that I am the type of person for whom they want to devise these hellishly detailed travel plans. In Makeni I plan to meet Amy Baker, who I'm hoping will be our American star. I won't say too much about Amy here for fear of jinxing my trip.
Yesterday I filmed the helicopter pad here at the UN. Literally, you look out the office window, there's the pad. Which makes for some noisy meetings, but people here no longer hear the helicopters. The wind created by those things is no joke, and not so easy to film around. I need to perfect my heli-shooting.
Got a first dinner from our house cook last night-chicken in a very thick and oily peanut sauce with white rice. I had two helpings.
This morning I got up early and filmed my neighbors living in a glorified hut behind our house. Half of the family got really into directing and would direct the other half to walk in and out of the frame, to get closer, to redo laundry scenes, etc. I've had kids clown for the camera, but this was something new-I'll go back to visit them again and probably take them some of those silly American-flag stick pins I brought for Liberia-I don't think I'll be spending much time in Liberia. Across the stream from the family is a Christian "semi-private" school for 300 children who wear green outfits. I was allowed to film them buying pre-school snacks of fish and some sort of fried balls with mayo on what looked like a hotdog bun and then shot a rousing series of Jesus-related singing and physical movements-half P.E., half church. I've promised to go back to the school and buy myself a fish sandwich. They actually didn't look so bad.
I'm getting used to carrying the camera and tripod bags with me basically everywhere I go. When my back is killing me and the sweat is rolling down my freshly-showered neck I remind myself that this is my job. The locals don't appreciate me trying to squeeze into the back of a taxi with all of my gear, however. The Nepali medal ceremony invitation (yes, there was an invitation!) requested "formal" attire, but I'm going to assume that camera people are exempt from such niceties.
All right now, I'm over and out. Off to the provinces (doesn't that just Sound colonial?).