Right or So Wrong?

Alas, I am a hypocrite. My secret judgmental opinion prior to my arrival on Libyan soil was that people who have cleaners were people who thought that their own “poop” did not stink and I was pretty disgusted that they were happy enough to pay a few bob to have their own mess cleaned up and not bother to do it themselves.

I however, have fallen in to the trap and must eat my own words.

The heat and workload in Libya barely gives me enough energy to cook a meal, let alone start scrubbing the walls and floors. (The first week is not included when I went on the ultimate cleaning, bleaching & polishing domestic goddess binge). So, I have hired a cleaner who comes around to my apartment once a week. She is a lovely Morroccan lady who does not speak a word of English but has a soft smile and a gentle manner (and the fact that none of my valuables have gone missing is an added bonus). I feel so embarrassed that she is cleaning up after me that I have a clean up the night before she comes and I also leave out cakes and crisps and food for her to eat while she is at my house. She arrives at early o’clock and leaves after 5pm and her charge for a days work is 25 LYD . . . which is the equivalent to £12.40 per day, that is £49.60 per month. She cleans absolutely everything, including my duvet and irons my socks. This is a complete luxury to me and one which I was completely against prior to my visit here, and I feel like an absolute hypocrite as I was so against my previous partner having a cleaner back in the UK but at the same time I feel unable to complete anything after work due to my hectic work schedule and the unbelievable heat!

One of the arguments FOR having a cleaner is that it is providing employment to someone who earns very little in Libya and is grateful for all the work that they get...

At the same time I can’t help but think...

Am I participating in exploitation or am I contributing to her personal gain or the economy by employing her?

Wonderous Weekends

Yet again, I have had a fabulous weekend and a lovely Saturday spent down by the beach. The added bonus to this weekend was an amazingly handsome dog (well he is like a person really) called Bertie Ahern. Bertie is a delightful little maltese terrier who I managed to play Mum to for the weekend as his Mummy is away in Morrocco. He is so playful and must be a great companion to his owner, as he is so loyal and hates to be alone - he follows you around when you walk around the house & loves to be petted and cuddled lots and lots.

I think I've fallen in love ...

Mother & Son Reunited

Today was a big day for my neighbour, her 22 year old son arrived in Libya for the first time to visit for a week. To celebrate his arrival she arranged a big barbeque for him and invited lots of people - there were 34 confirmed. After the major stresses and hassles with arranging his visa it was so nice to see him finally reunited with his Mother on Libyan soil.

However, the stresses did not end there. An enormous amount of preparation went into the barbeque (this included buying a new splendid barbeque (second hand which therefore mean't it needed a good scrub), marinating copious amounts of lamb & chicken, the huge shopping expedition to stock up on food stuffs & goodies, sourcing gas cylinders, chairs & tables etc.

After all of that, it turned out that it was most certainly the wrong day to be holding the BBQ , the security on our Regatta compound would not let anybody in as there was a VIP staying on the compound. In fact, they decided to forget completely even who residents were and we were forced to go get our ID to prove who we were. (This actually is a regular occurence, the head of security has seen my pass and met me on plenty of occasions but still has his power trip days where I'm forced to be interrogated in order to get to my apartment) Even though the majority of the party were turned away by the Regatta Mafia, the barbeque still turned out to be a fun event, and there was certainly triple, if not quadruple portions of food available.

Happy Birthday Mum!

Hope you have a wonderful day today Mum.. Thinking of you!

You're famous now, in an anonymous way on lostinlibya blogspot.

Love you lots

xxxxxx

Medina Madness..

I ventured back into what is known as the "Medina" in Tripoli today. The Medina is basically a walled medieval market with a few odd bits thrown in, it's a mixture of old and new and I can see it being a paradise for the antique and jewellery conniseur.

(Note - the Medina is smack bang in the centre of Tripoli, sort of a wierd version of Oxford Street to us Londoners)

Despite the dreaded drive throught "DEATH ROUNDABOUT" - (believe it when you see it) I still managed to feel quite guilty that I was more interested in what was in my stomach when I arrived. Luckily I ended up in the most fabulous traditional restaurant which served plenty of bread, a lovely tomato mozzarella salad and an extremely delicious, tender Tajin of Mouton (Lamb) to fill the gap.

Afterwards, I did a very minimal amount of “touristic” shopping (shame on me) – purchasing framed dead scorpions, key rings & Libyan t-shirts for the fam (that's the designer gear you're getting from Libya Bro & Sis).

It's a Hard Life..

I actually live here now?

But someone has to do it..

I have had the most perfect weekend and despite the flaws of Libya and being away from home,right now I feel blessed to be in a “sort of”paradise..

Well, sun, sea, a terrace sun lounger, fantastic “old / new skool” company - does it really get much better than that?

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

I stumbled across an extremely huge sea turtle today on a walk along the beach. I could never have imagined a turtle of this proportion but unfortunately my first experience of seeing this amazing creature was seeing her deteriorating and rotting away on the shore.

Absolutely amazed at the size but also extremely disturbed to have found out that she was more than likely harpooned at sea. Reading further into turtle torture is really sad, all native species of West Indian sea tortoises are now extinct!

However, turtle meat being considered a delicacy and the high commerical value of the shell means that people will continue to endanger the fascinating sea turtle...

Libyan Ladies Lunch

Clearly Not "Salame"..

My office is based in the middle of nowhere - the only options for food are:

1. Bring your own. 2. Camel or Tuna 1/2 dinar baguettes. OR 3. Risk going through the local council estate (much better than the ones I've seen in London mind you) to get to the local greasy burger joint. So three of the younger Libyan secretaries planned an escape lunch for me today whilst all the management were in a meeting. One of them had a car, so we all jumped in as she "boy raced" her way through town to a really nice, upper class Italian restaurant down Gargaresh road (the Rodeo Drive of Tripoli).

Not only did they insist on me choosing where we sat and what we ate, they would not let me pay a penny towards the meal. I am so unbeliveably touched by the hospitality of the Libyans, they are so generous, kind and sweet (apart from the pervy men of course).

Anyway, one of the pizza dishes I ordered was "salame" - which I though would be a laugh but when it arrived I had a tiny panic attack as I thought it could actually be pork salami and then I would end up fired and extradited from the country, working for a Governmental Oil Company. No fear there, the "salame" was a completely disgusting slimy Turkish Halal version of pork which was enjoyed by all. Along with a pizza smothered in calamari & prawns and some very strange looking green jellyish pizza. Bar the food, I had a wonderful brief lunch and journey to and from the restaurant - even though I didn't understand a word that the girls were saying, I have a feeling I've made a few friends.

May Day

Attended another expat event today but actually had a very memorable and amusing time. It was the annual darts competition in which over 200 expats from all over the world came to watch. The Filipino expats seem to take the event extremely serious, whilst the British/American/Irish tend to prefer the social aspect.

Anyway, it was good fun watching everyone get thrown in the pool whilst I sat back and relaxed.

Have also realised.......I'm not a big fan of darts, they are actually for farts.

A chop too far..

What the hell was I thinking going to have my hair cut at a Libyan hairdressers?????

I have officially got short hair having had 6 inches chopped right off within the space of two minutes (it literally was “chop” “chop”). So I am lucious locks no more. Initially I was in a bit of a strop, having walked out afterwards without even having a blow dry (mind you that wasn’t just the haircut - the screaming baby and blow dry queue were a real deal breaker).

Oh well, I have resigned myself to the new bouffant and am quite happy without the length in this heat, regardless of the disastrous style. (My hairdresser would have a heart attack!)

After the hairdressers I took on another adventure - a taxi home alone for the first time. Will NOT be doing that again!

My neighbour was slightly worried and told me that I MUST wear sunglasses in the car. Thinking she was being a bit of a paranoid mother figure I ignored her advice and left them sitting on top of my head. BIG MISTAKE!

I have now had my first marriage proposal (which I politely declined) but also almost lost my life as the driver drove at full speed whilst turning around to shout "Wow Boootiful Eyes"! Very amusing in hindsight...

All in a days work!

Wish Me Luck..

I'm going to get my haircut in Libya tomorrow!

The Office Playground

My assistant is going through a spot of bother at work at the moment. Her three best friends have all turned on her and she is absolutely fuming!

Last week she came in to work wearing her headscarf but also wearing a long t-shirt style dress (on top of jeans and a long sleeved white top). The dress itself was a bright pink colour. Her three best friends are all very strict Muslims who wear the full hijab to work. (See "bedouin hijab" in picture above).

They were extremely disgusted to see my assistant in the bright pink dress (although she wears Western clothes with her headscarf every day, this particular outfit was not to their taste and considered inappropriate, even though it was not tight or revealing in any way). Anyway, she was very unhappy with their behaviour towards her and decided that they were no longer her friends. (But she assured me I am her sister, not her friend – had to love that!)

One of the other Libyan secretaries who speaks English came to explain the situation to me and told me very proudly that there are 3 types of women in Libya.

1. Those who dress like me – western style dress (albeit modest) with hair uncovered.
2. Those who dress like her and my assistant – with the headscarf but with modest western clothing.
3. Those who dress completely covered in the full hijab.

Passionately she proceeded to explain that although you may be No. 1, inside you might be a good person and No. 3 might be a bad person. So therefore, my assistants friends had no right to judge her, as inside, she is a good person (despite the language barrier, I can already tell this). A great statement for life in general, regardless of being a Muslim country, it brings to mind the term, clothes do not make a person, it is a person who makes the clothes.

Well, today, to really accentuate the whole argument, my assistant received a package which was delivered to the office. There was a letter and a booklet. (All in Arabic so my translation may be vague). The letter basically compared her to a Libyan woman within the company who had a very bad reputation (in other words, the office hussy) and the booklet served as a guide as to the do’s and don’ts of how one should dress!

She was crying and shouting (completely the norm in Libyan offices anyway) and I feel so angry for her, this girl is a 30 year old virgin who blares out the quaran everyday in my office!

I know a good 'un when I see a good 'un and this one is a good 'un!

A memo goes a long way!

After weeks of non stop debates with the “transport & services” and the “maintenance” and the “catering and services department” regarding the repairs and refurbishment of my apartment and getting absolutely nowhere I decided to take things into my own hands. No, I have not sworn or thrown a humongous hissy fit . . . . . . . I have written a memo!

I wrote this memo in the name of my boss – and it was quite strong outlining the issues with my apartment which need to be fixed “urgently” and about the negative impact it is having on my well being having workmen entering my private space during the evenings and weekends. Lucky for me, my boss was very happy to sign it (I personally think he loves an argument so it made his day!).

The memo outlined every single minor detail which I want repaired and lo and behold, I have come home to every hole in the wall filled, the house has been repainted, furniture has been removed and replaced, handles are usable, I can open my garden door . . . . I even have GARDEN FURNITURE now!

Why don’t memo’s work with boyfriends?

40 days and 40 nights..

Today is day 40!

Yeah, I'm still counting down..

Feeling Hot! Hot! Hot!

Flaming Nora it's baking here, and this is just the start of it!

Today was a very hot 35°C (95°F ).

It is like an oven outside, I love it really but it's knocking me out all the time, the minute I step into a car I'm out for the count with my head bobbing all over the place like noddy.

_

It is getting very hot here...

_

_

(So keep ON ALL your clothes)..

i

Ha...I had to be cheesy at some point (Maybe it's the heat going to my head)

_]

Boy ♥ Boy

One of the biggest cultural shocks here for me has to be the way in which men and women relate to each other. It is so far removed from the Western world that I am used to.

Men and women are pretty much segregated in Libya, and there seems to be very few women compared to the number of men out on the streets, shopping, at cafes or restaurants. I have not seen one couple showing affection or holding hands in Tripoli but it is SO common to see men being affectionate with each other (not to be confused with homosexuality as that is actually illegal in Libya).

Walking down the street you see men holding hands, with their arms around each other, leaning into each other, stroking each others faces and planting kisses on each others cheeks.

Thought Of The Day!

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
The courage to change the things I can;
And the wisdom to know the difference.

Domestic Goddess!

I'm loving having my own place now and have spent the weekend being very houseproud! I have scrubbed and bleached to my hearts content, the windows are gleaming and even the front door has been polished.

On top of that I have made a delicious spicy meatball pasta dish, fresh salad with my new salad dressing and just popped a huge shepherds pie in the oven.

Nigella eat your heart out!

One Month Later..

The View From My Front Door

I feel under immense (self inflicted) pressure to deliver a corny clichéd reflection on my first month here in Libya but .................. I can’t be bothered!

I have at last graduated into the adjustment phase having successfully passed the where the hell am I phase?!

There is so much for me to learn still, I feel like a real idiot half the time when I make silly errors (like putting an English newspaper on top of an Arabic newspaper – not good – the English newspaper MUST go underneath the Arabic one).

I’m trying to suss out everything anyway and will get there eventually, Rome wasn’t built in a day. The culture, the people, the do’s and the don’ts, directions, etc – I still have not got a clue but I seem to be getting away with it (perhaps they are saying bloody blonde Irish woman!)

So, in conclusion – I am really enjoying the new experience, everything is an adventure and even though I live here now I still feel like a tourist who asks too many questions and takes out her camera at every single opportunity.

Bleurghhh!

My first sick day off work falls within my first month! Not happy but it’s out of my control.

The day has been full of puking, sleeping and feeling extremely out of it. Don’t know if it’s the water or the food I ate but I know now that I need to start cooking at home for sure!

My assistant called me to see if I was ok, even though she speaks Arabic only she managed to tell me in English that she loved me, missed me and that I was her sister!!!