Our steward starts tomorrow. Therefore I just spent the last hour picking up the house...
I have to admit I am a little nervous letting someone into our home unsupervised. But she seems really nice, and came with a recommendation letter, so we're going to give her a try. I mean, if she works out it'll be the most amazing deal of the century. She comes every weekday morning and does the dishes, makes the bed, picks up all the clothes, and lets the dogs outside. Then two days a week she also deep-cleans and does the laundry and ironing. Oh, and if we need her to go to the market to get us anything, we just give her money and she goes to get it. Which also means we pay less for things at the market since our steward is buying them and they don't know its some "Oyibo's" money. And we pay her $100 a month. Total. Joey and I felt guilty paying her so little, but its about the going rate around here, which is apparently considered a really good job. The average wage in Abuja is only $1 a day, so I guess since she's making six times that and gets free rent, she has a good gig. Regardless, we did lock up everything valuable just in case.
So the job I am working now is the one I applied for back in DC, as an accountant.
I have about a million things I want to blog about and I just keep getting side-tracked and its 11:30 at night here, so I suppose it'll have to wait for another day.
1.12.2011
pictures are up
I finally posted my pictures - they took all day to upload because the connection is so slow (but I'm not complaining because we aren't supposed to have internet at all during the day) - go to the "pics" page and click on the link.
The pictures include scenes from the Mogadishu Fish Market, Wuse Market (where the picture of our pasty white selves was taken, which led me to lay out without sunscreen, thinking the dust from the Harmatan would provide shield enough - bad, bad idea), Garke Market (stories to come about watching a chicken get hacked up), the Farmer's Market in Maitama, and the requisite lizard shots. Enjoy.
The pictures include scenes from the Mogadishu Fish Market, Wuse Market (where the picture of our pasty white selves was taken, which led me to lay out without sunscreen, thinking the dust from the Harmatan would provide shield enough - bad, bad idea), Garke Market (stories to come about watching a chicken get hacked up), the Farmer's Market in Maitama, and the requisite lizard shots. Enjoy.
1.11.2011
observations
I wrote this last week at home and figured I’d upload it when I got internet. Well today is the day! Halleluiah!
After our 16 hour drive from Des Moines to Washington, a whirlwind packout, literally running home barefoot from the metro station to catch the airport shuttle after the sale of my car took too long, three hours in the Dulles airport; the first hour and a half spent trying to juggle three dogs, two extra-large suitcases, two regular-sized suitcases, two carry-on suitcases, a messenger bag with a laptop hanging out and a shoulder bag so full it wouldn’t zip (we would never ever have been able to pull it off without our friends Lee and James) and shuffle items from one suitcase which was so overweight it was not allowed to fly to another suitcase, and then the second hour spent trying to enjoy a last glass of champagne with Lee and James while listening to George yelp helplessly a hallway away, seven and a half hours on the flight to Amsterdam, five hours in the Amsterdam airport, and then another six hours on the flight to Abuja, by the time we got here, we were exhausted. I don’t know about Joey, but I was just as emotionally drained as I was physically, and so when the immigration official asked Joey, “How long will you be here?” and Joey replied, “Two years,” the following thud of his stamp on my diplomatic passport seemed to reverberate throughout the airport. (It reminded me a little bit of the moment during our wedding when the priest said “for the rest of your life” in such an ominous tone that caused my best friend Bridget to look over at me in sheer terror.) But once the dogs came rolling through on the luggage conveyor belt – imagine a quivering extra-large kennel rolling between the suitcases – now remember the majority of Nigerians are afraid of dogs – it was like the scene from the Ten Commandments where Moses parts the Red Sea – and I realized my boys were tired and overwhelmed but safe and healthy, I realized I was too.
And we thought traffic in DC was aggressive and crazy. Oh my God its a good thing we had some experience driving in DC before moving to Abuja. The way people drive here is insane. I mean complete, absolute insanity. I’ve ridden in cars in many places around the world and I can tell you, I have never experienced traffic like this. There are no traffic rules. People drive all over the road: in the middle of the lane, in the parking lane, in the lane facing oncoming traffic, on the sidewalk! Intersections have no signs. I think there might be like ten stoplights in the city but they don’t work frequently and people don’t heed them (not to mention the lights don’t even face the direction of traffic). When approaching an intersection it is every car for itself and you just kind of have to slowly tip toe your way into the intersection and hope someone doesn’t come barreling through! Meanwhile you’re stopped and eight different guys are sauntering between the cars, hawking phone cards, grapes, bottled beverages, kola nuts, Nigerian flags, you know, whatever. Then you have to watch out for the pedestrians because they just dart into the street with no mind that there are insane drivers everywhere. I mean Abuja driving to Mexico driving is like New York City driving to De Soto driving. Maybe. Its crazy.
The majority of these crazy ass drivers are cabbies, and they just zip around in their little green cars (they’re painted like the Nigerian flag) like its no big deal. Then there are the green mini-buses packed with more Nigerians than should fit in two. My favorite are the little three-wheeled tuk-tuks that scoot around town. Its like a covered motor-bike with the driver in front and two passengers in back – and the sides are open. They just drive down the expressway next to everybody else even though at any minute they could be side-swiped and dead.
And electricity? I remember once, during my semester in Florida, the power went out in the grocery store during a thunderstorm. It was a huge deal. The power goes out here all the time and nobody even blinks. We were in the grocery store here and the lights went out and people just kept doing their business.
Same goes with internet. You pay a ton of money for slow, unreliable service, because that’s the best you can get. But it is finally at my house and for that I am grateful.
More tomorrow. Because now we have internet at home and I can get online anytime I want. Actually only between the hours of 7 pm and 7 am because it costs double to get it the rest of the day. And I’m working (I know, coming out of retirement is going to be rough), so I can access the internet at the Embassy during the day. Anyway, I am trying to upload my pictures overnight, so hopefully pictures tomorrow too.
1.07.2011
fraud
So frustrated right now. The price of groceries in this town is freaking ridiculous. Our sponsor recommended we use netgrocer.com to purchase some goods, as they usually arrive in two to three weeks, which will help us save at least some money until our HHE and all of the consumables we purchased in DC arrive.
So yesterday I spent an hour putting together a netgrocer.com order. Then I attempted to pay for it using Paypal. Paypal locked me out of my account until I entered the checking account associated with the card. Well unfortunately the account number I entered was associated with Joey's PayPal account and so PayPal locked both accounts. At this point I still have no idea that I'm using a Nigerian IP address, and so I'm going to our bank website trying to figure it out, back to our PayPal accounts - all over the place for about two hours. Finally, defeated, I decide to try again tomorrow.
Last night one of our friends told us the internet in the library was not on a secure line. Awesome. Luckily today I was finally granted access to the computer lab. I thought I saw two suspicious transactions but Joey checked them and we're okay. I spent another two hours redoing my netgrocer order and trying to figure out PayPal. Unfortunately we're both still locked out of our accounts. Which also means we're locked out of netgrocer and locked into exhorbitant prices on laundry detergent and paper towels. But I suppose I'm glad that PayPal is paranoid because I ignorantly exposed myself to fraud.
So yesterday I spent an hour putting together a netgrocer.com order. Then I attempted to pay for it using Paypal. Paypal locked me out of my account until I entered the checking account associated with the card. Well unfortunately the account number I entered was associated with Joey's PayPal account and so PayPal locked both accounts. At this point I still have no idea that I'm using a Nigerian IP address, and so I'm going to our bank website trying to figure it out, back to our PayPal accounts - all over the place for about two hours. Finally, defeated, I decide to try again tomorrow.
Last night one of our friends told us the internet in the library was not on a secure line. Awesome. Luckily today I was finally granted access to the computer lab. I thought I saw two suspicious transactions but Joey checked them and we're okay. I spent another two hours redoing my netgrocer order and trying to figure out PayPal. Unfortunately we're both still locked out of our accounts. Which also means we're locked out of netgrocer and locked into exhorbitant prices on laundry detergent and paper towels. But I suppose I'm glad that PayPal is paranoid because I ignorantly exposed myself to fraud.
1.05.2011
its really not that bad
In all fairness I feel I should say its really not that bad here. Really. I mean, sure there was a lizard on the wall in our bedroom and the next morning a giant ass cockroach almost crawled on my foot in the kitchen (Joey, who heard my blood curdling scream from the other room, found me cowering on top of the dining room chair clutching a paring knife).
And then there's the Harmatan, which is what they call all the dust and sand that blows south from the Sahara that covers everything with a thin layer of film - when you lick your lips you can taste the dirt - and by dusk the haze is so thick you can't see any of the giant rock formations around town and it looks as though a tornado is about to blow through when actually its so dry you wake up with a sore throat.
But seriously, besides the minor meltdowns which my poor husband bravely bears, I feel really lucky to be here. I am really enjoying myself.
Yesterday on my way to the Embassy I saw three station wagons completely coated in colorful political posters and completely full of Nigerians all dressed in traditional African dress (long pants, ankle-length tunic, fez) who would all get out of the cars at each intersection and dance to the tinny reggae-sounding music blaring from the car speakers.
Most of the restaurants here are supposed to be mediocre at best, and rather expensive. So far we've been to two (three if you count the fish market but that's an entirely different experience); one was good (enough - I mean we just spent the last four months eating out practically every night in culinary heaven) and the other one was not - so we've had to cook every meal. Which is a challenge because 1. we don't have a dishwasher or a garbage disposal, and 2. although groceries are not hard to find, it is hard to swallow the cost ($8 for corn flakes. Seriously.)
Unless you want to buy a goat out of the back of some guy's trunk. Because you can. He was parked outside of the one of the restaurants and about twenty hooves were hanging out of the hatchback. Our sponsors said that was okay but for really fresh meat we should go to the Wuse (Woo-say) Market and you can choose your animal while its still alive. That way you know its fresh. We did go to the Wuse Market but steered clear of the meat. Actually there was nothing clear about the Wuse Market - it was this crazy, authentic, African market. Stuffed full of people and fruit and fish and everything under the sun. It was loud and smelly and colorful and overwhelming. Actually I think that's how I'd sum up Nigeria so far. Loud and smelly (not necessarily in a bad way, just a lot of new odors), and colorful and overwhelming.
Many men and women wear traditional West African garb here, and its beautiful. The women wear these long tailored dresses with mermaid skirts in brightly colored patterns with matching headresses that go in every which direction. And it is so cool how so many people carry things on their heads. I mean its amazing to see some woman in her brightly colored mermaid skirt (not easy to run in) dash across the street with a giant plate of plantains perfectly balanced on her head. Or yesterday I saw a guy wandering down the street with a two-foot stack of papers on his head. Papers! I mean can you imagine if that fell over what it would look like? He's just walking around like its no big deal. Or they'll carry plates of these little round orange fruits, I'm not sure what they're called, but you'd think those suckers would roll around and roll off the giant plate on their head. Nope. It makes sense, especially at places like Wuse Market where its so crowded, to take advantage of vertical space, but it really is amazing. As you would expect, everyone has perfect posture. (I just sat up straight in my chair).
People are friendly - everyone thinks you're rich because you're white (called Oyibo, pronounced "Oh-Ee-Bo") and you definitely have to bargain - but overall its safe. And has peacocks! I don't think they're wild here, unlike the chickens that roam the streets, but it was still cool to come upon them. Every day its something cool and different like that and I'm really enjoying taking it all in. I promise I've been taking tons of pictures and will upload them as soon as I can - we just have to wait for the internet guy to get back from his village where we went to get married. It seems like everything is just a little funny like that. Anyway, I've rambled on enough for now - forgive me its my first time writing anything down since we arrived - its been such a whirlwind.
And then there's the Harmatan, which is what they call all the dust and sand that blows south from the Sahara that covers everything with a thin layer of film - when you lick your lips you can taste the dirt - and by dusk the haze is so thick you can't see any of the giant rock formations around town and it looks as though a tornado is about to blow through when actually its so dry you wake up with a sore throat.
But seriously, besides the minor meltdowns which my poor husband bravely bears, I feel really lucky to be here. I am really enjoying myself.
Yesterday on my way to the Embassy I saw three station wagons completely coated in colorful political posters and completely full of Nigerians all dressed in traditional African dress (long pants, ankle-length tunic, fez) who would all get out of the cars at each intersection and dance to the tinny reggae-sounding music blaring from the car speakers.
Most of the restaurants here are supposed to be mediocre at best, and rather expensive. So far we've been to two (three if you count the fish market but that's an entirely different experience); one was good (enough - I mean we just spent the last four months eating out practically every night in culinary heaven) and the other one was not - so we've had to cook every meal. Which is a challenge because 1. we don't have a dishwasher or a garbage disposal, and 2. although groceries are not hard to find, it is hard to swallow the cost ($8 for corn flakes. Seriously.)
Unless you want to buy a goat out of the back of some guy's trunk. Because you can. He was parked outside of the one of the restaurants and about twenty hooves were hanging out of the hatchback. Our sponsors said that was okay but for really fresh meat we should go to the Wuse (Woo-say) Market and you can choose your animal while its still alive. That way you know its fresh. We did go to the Wuse Market but steered clear of the meat. Actually there was nothing clear about the Wuse Market - it was this crazy, authentic, African market. Stuffed full of people and fruit and fish and everything under the sun. It was loud and smelly and colorful and overwhelming. Actually I think that's how I'd sum up Nigeria so far. Loud and smelly (not necessarily in a bad way, just a lot of new odors), and colorful and overwhelming.
Many men and women wear traditional West African garb here, and its beautiful. The women wear these long tailored dresses with mermaid skirts in brightly colored patterns with matching headresses that go in every which direction. And it is so cool how so many people carry things on their heads. I mean its amazing to see some woman in her brightly colored mermaid skirt (not easy to run in) dash across the street with a giant plate of plantains perfectly balanced on her head. Or yesterday I saw a guy wandering down the street with a two-foot stack of papers on his head. Papers! I mean can you imagine if that fell over what it would look like? He's just walking around like its no big deal. Or they'll carry plates of these little round orange fruits, I'm not sure what they're called, but you'd think those suckers would roll around and roll off the giant plate on their head. Nope. It makes sense, especially at places like Wuse Market where its so crowded, to take advantage of vertical space, but it really is amazing. As you would expect, everyone has perfect posture. (I just sat up straight in my chair).
People are friendly - everyone thinks you're rich because you're white (called Oyibo, pronounced "Oh-Ee-Bo") and you definitely have to bargain - but overall its safe. And has peacocks! I don't think they're wild here, unlike the chickens that roam the streets, but it was still cool to come upon them. Every day its something cool and different like that and I'm really enjoying taking it all in. I promise I've been taking tons of pictures and will upload them as soon as I can - we just have to wait for the internet guy to get back from his village where we went to get married. It seems like everything is just a little funny like that. Anyway, I've rambled on enough for now - forgive me its my first time writing anything down since we arrived - its been such a whirlwind.
does switching to geico really save you 15% on car insurance?
"Oh. My. God." I yelled as I stood in the doorway of our bedroom.
"What?" Joey replied from downstairs.
"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod there is a lizard on the wall!" I screamed, frozen in fear as I stared at the eight-inch long gecko on the wall next to my bed.
"What?!"
"Get the F*** up here there is a Fing lizard on the wall!"
So Joey bounded up the steps - we agreed I would go downstairs to get something to catch it and he would watch it to make sure it didn't move. I ran downstairs, and after making my way through the iron gate at the bottom grabbed my camera, an empty 2L Aquafina bottle, a piece of paper and a juice glass. When I returned the gecko was nowhere in sight.
"Where'd it go?" I asked Joey as he is casually searching the curtains.
"I don't know - it ran away."
"There is a gecko loose in our bedroom?!" I'm frantic, and at this point I'm standing on top of our bed in my sheer little black robe clutching my camera, the water bottle, the paper and the glass.
Did I mention its 2:30 am? George decided he needed water around 1:30 and after about half an hour of listening to him scratch at the door we finally acquiesed and decided we might as well have some tea. It was when I returend upstairs with my teacup that I made this lovely discovery.
"That's what you brought me to catch it?" Joey asked me, incredulously, while trying desparately not to laugh.
"What the hell do you expect me to bring you? I grew up in Iowa and I find a Fing lizard on the wall and you think I'm going to know how to catch the Fing thing?" Yes, I have a potty mouth. And it was in full swing at 2:30 am with a lizard on the wall in my bedroom. Or rather a lizard running loose in my bedroom. "And its not funny!"
Joey is now laughing hysterically, while I am just hysterical. "Get it! Where'd it go?! Get the Fing thing!"
He points to the window and says that it probably went out this little hole and that he looked everywhere and can't find it - tells me this story about how even the nicest hotel rooms in Hawaii get lizards in there all the time and that its no big deal - they eat mosquitos.
Clearly I am not convinced. I go downstairs and come back up with the step ladder. Joey searches for another fifteen minutes (meanwhile our entire pack of three worthless dogs is hiding under the bed, probably more due to me freaking out than the lizard), and finally declares the search over. Relunctantly, after checking under the blankets of course, I crawl back into bed. Joey looks over and asks "Will you turn out the lights?"
"Hell no."
"Some of them? Please?"
So I turned off all the overhead lights, but left my lamp on. I read for the next few hours (and glancing to the wall every few minutes) until I was so tired I finally had no choice but to fall asleep.
The next day I told our sponsor, Ibrahim, an American FSO who is originally from Nigeria, that we found a lizard on the wall in our bedroom. He responded knowingly in his sing-song Nigerian accent, "Oh a wall gecko! Those are little things - they won't hurt you! Sometimes they'll crawl on your face at night while you're sleeping and leave a little scratch, but otherwise you'll never know they're there."
Oh I'll know.
"What?" Joey replied from downstairs.
"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod there is a lizard on the wall!" I screamed, frozen in fear as I stared at the eight-inch long gecko on the wall next to my bed.
"What?!"
"Get the F*** up here there is a Fing lizard on the wall!"
So Joey bounded up the steps - we agreed I would go downstairs to get something to catch it and he would watch it to make sure it didn't move. I ran downstairs, and after making my way through the iron gate at the bottom grabbed my camera, an empty 2L Aquafina bottle, a piece of paper and a juice glass. When I returned the gecko was nowhere in sight.
"Where'd it go?" I asked Joey as he is casually searching the curtains.
"I don't know - it ran away."
"There is a gecko loose in our bedroom?!" I'm frantic, and at this point I'm standing on top of our bed in my sheer little black robe clutching my camera, the water bottle, the paper and the glass.
Did I mention its 2:30 am? George decided he needed water around 1:30 and after about half an hour of listening to him scratch at the door we finally acquiesed and decided we might as well have some tea. It was when I returend upstairs with my teacup that I made this lovely discovery.
"That's what you brought me to catch it?" Joey asked me, incredulously, while trying desparately not to laugh.
"What the hell do you expect me to bring you? I grew up in Iowa and I find a Fing lizard on the wall and you think I'm going to know how to catch the Fing thing?" Yes, I have a potty mouth. And it was in full swing at 2:30 am with a lizard on the wall in my bedroom. Or rather a lizard running loose in my bedroom. "And its not funny!"
Joey is now laughing hysterically, while I am just hysterical. "Get it! Where'd it go?! Get the Fing thing!"
He points to the window and says that it probably went out this little hole and that he looked everywhere and can't find it - tells me this story about how even the nicest hotel rooms in Hawaii get lizards in there all the time and that its no big deal - they eat mosquitos.
Clearly I am not convinced. I go downstairs and come back up with the step ladder. Joey searches for another fifteen minutes (meanwhile our entire pack of three worthless dogs is hiding under the bed, probably more due to me freaking out than the lizard), and finally declares the search over. Relunctantly, after checking under the blankets of course, I crawl back into bed. Joey looks over and asks "Will you turn out the lights?"
"Hell no."
"Some of them? Please?"
So I turned off all the overhead lights, but left my lamp on. I read for the next few hours (and glancing to the wall every few minutes) until I was so tired I finally had no choice but to fall asleep.
The next day I told our sponsor, Ibrahim, an American FSO who is originally from Nigeria, that we found a lizard on the wall in our bedroom. He responded knowingly in his sing-song Nigerian accent, "Oh a wall gecko! Those are little things - they won't hurt you! Sometimes they'll crawl on your face at night while you're sleeping and leave a little scratch, but otherwise you'll never know they're there."
Oh I'll know.
12.28.2010
we drove
Yes, Sunday after Joey returned from his unsuccessful trip to the airport we decided to make a run for it. I packed up my stuff and Dad drove us to the airport for the third time that day to pick up a rental car. We got on the road about 2 pm and pulled into DC 15 and 1/2 hours later (16 with the time change). You would think that with a blizzard so bad flights were cancelled for two days there'd be snow on the ground...but we arrived to a beautiful, albeit windy, sunny morning in DC. Seriously the roads in Iowa, Illinois, Indiana and Maryland were totally dry. There was a little snow in Ohio and Pennsylvania which slowed us down slightly, but neither of us saw anything that could warrant such delays and cancellations. I guess the airlines won again.
Some highlights from the drive include the gas station attendant who upon ringing me up for two coffees and three Five Hour Energies suggested "sleep is cheaper," and cheap therapy in the form of Chumbawumba singing "I Get Knocked Down," followed by Hansen's "Mmm Bop" and then Toto's "Africa" song. In true Melissa fashion I somehow managed to drop all of Joey's cards from his wallet outside the rest stop in Pennsylvania which blew every which way while he was off getting gas. When he found me inside I asked him to check and make sure all his cards were there, which resulted in us in a panicked search for his American Express (we found it). We're still reeling from the $15 toll in Ohio though and another $13.90 in Pennsylvania.
So we got home at 6:30 am, and once we got situated with the dog sitter (and the dogs), we had about two hours to spare before the movers arrived. Joey and I both passed out for an hour and then started preparing for the move. Thank God the movers were professional and competent because we were so unorganized and out of it. I wish that I had been able to pack my suitcases more deliberately because what's in them is all I'm going to see for at least six weeks but probably more like two to three months until our UAB (unaccompanied air baggage) arrives and probably five to six months before we see our HHE (household effects). But I only had to have the movers go through three packed boxes for things I forgot to put in my suitcase - malaria pills and sunscreen - you think those might come in handy? I'm also pretty sure we're going to get charged a boatload of cash for overweight baggage because both Joey and I packed our suitcases way beyond 50 lbs but whatever, I know I don't need fifteen sundresses to get me through six weeks but I want fifteen sundresses and if that's what makes me feel sane in our move to what feels like the final frontier so be it.
The movers left right about five o'clock which gave Joey and me just enough time to pile the dogs in the car (who had been in their kennels all day and were beyond wired) and take them to the vet for their 48 hour pre-travel health certification. For some reason the act of taking their temperatures, listening to their hearts and filling out the paperwork took almost two hours and cost $500 but whatever, we're finally freaking done. Well no, there's actually about a million last minute errands to run today that we would have run Sunday but at least the dogs should be good to go.
So after arranging for the transfer of our first-born to the vet, we were finally done for the day. Our friends Lee and James came over for a few hours with pizza and prosecco and wine and beer and wished us a really heartfelt farewell. It was the first time in the last few days we'd really actually reflected on leaving, rather than on the scramble to be able to leave, and I have to say I'm glad for the bottle of prosecco they brought me as well as the great company. We passed out around ten but for some reason I am up now - nerves, probably. Truly the last 60 hours or so have been so frenetic that its just registering now that we will be at the airport in less than twelve hours. I'm sad that my goodbye to my parents and sisters was overshadowed by the daunting drive, but almost grateful for it as well. I really had hoped to spend our last night in Des Moines playing games and drinking wine but at least it didn't turn into the hard, tearful farewell that I worried about.
I suppose I should at least go try to lie in bed for a while, seeing as when the alarm goes off at 7 we have to sell the car, finish packing our carry-ons (I have no idea how I'm going to fit my jewelry case. Seriously no idea.), clean the apartment, arrange transportation to the airport, check out with our landlord and go to FSI to make photocopies of the vet documents and get a Typhoid shot. And be at the airport no later than 3. Nothing like the last minute. But we still can't believe that we pulled off the packout in the first place, so tomorrow's nothing compared to today.
Anyway, thanks to everybody for the well wishes, both on the holidays and in the last few days. We'll miss you all so much and your support really means the world as we embark on the craziest journey of our lives. I really can't believe we're actually moving to Africa. Today. Here goes nothing!
Some highlights from the drive include the gas station attendant who upon ringing me up for two coffees and three Five Hour Energies suggested "sleep is cheaper," and cheap therapy in the form of Chumbawumba singing "I Get Knocked Down," followed by Hansen's "Mmm Bop" and then Toto's "Africa" song. In true Melissa fashion I somehow managed to drop all of Joey's cards from his wallet outside the rest stop in Pennsylvania which blew every which way while he was off getting gas. When he found me inside I asked him to check and make sure all his cards were there, which resulted in us in a panicked search for his American Express (we found it). We're still reeling from the $15 toll in Ohio though and another $13.90 in Pennsylvania.
So we got home at 6:30 am, and once we got situated with the dog sitter (and the dogs), we had about two hours to spare before the movers arrived. Joey and I both passed out for an hour and then started preparing for the move. Thank God the movers were professional and competent because we were so unorganized and out of it. I wish that I had been able to pack my suitcases more deliberately because what's in them is all I'm going to see for at least six weeks but probably more like two to three months until our UAB (unaccompanied air baggage) arrives and probably five to six months before we see our HHE (household effects). But I only had to have the movers go through three packed boxes for things I forgot to put in my suitcase - malaria pills and sunscreen - you think those might come in handy? I'm also pretty sure we're going to get charged a boatload of cash for overweight baggage because both Joey and I packed our suitcases way beyond 50 lbs but whatever, I know I don't need fifteen sundresses to get me through six weeks but I want fifteen sundresses and if that's what makes me feel sane in our move to what feels like the final frontier so be it.
The movers left right about five o'clock which gave Joey and me just enough time to pile the dogs in the car (who had been in their kennels all day and were beyond wired) and take them to the vet for their 48 hour pre-travel health certification. For some reason the act of taking their temperatures, listening to their hearts and filling out the paperwork took almost two hours and cost $500 but whatever, we're finally freaking done. Well no, there's actually about a million last minute errands to run today that we would have run Sunday but at least the dogs should be good to go.
So after arranging for the transfer of our first-born to the vet, we were finally done for the day. Our friends Lee and James came over for a few hours with pizza and prosecco and wine and beer and wished us a really heartfelt farewell. It was the first time in the last few days we'd really actually reflected on leaving, rather than on the scramble to be able to leave, and I have to say I'm glad for the bottle of prosecco they brought me as well as the great company. We passed out around ten but for some reason I am up now - nerves, probably. Truly the last 60 hours or so have been so frenetic that its just registering now that we will be at the airport in less than twelve hours. I'm sad that my goodbye to my parents and sisters was overshadowed by the daunting drive, but almost grateful for it as well. I really had hoped to spend our last night in Des Moines playing games and drinking wine but at least it didn't turn into the hard, tearful farewell that I worried about.
I suppose I should at least go try to lie in bed for a while, seeing as when the alarm goes off at 7 we have to sell the car, finish packing our carry-ons (I have no idea how I'm going to fit my jewelry case. Seriously no idea.), clean the apartment, arrange transportation to the airport, check out with our landlord and go to FSI to make photocopies of the vet documents and get a Typhoid shot. And be at the airport no later than 3. Nothing like the last minute. But we still can't believe that we pulled off the packout in the first place, so tomorrow's nothing compared to today.
Anyway, thanks to everybody for the well wishes, both on the holidays and in the last few days. We'll miss you all so much and your support really means the world as we embark on the craziest journey of our lives. I really can't believe we're actually moving to Africa. Today. Here goes nothing!
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