Stuck in Paris

I have gotten to know the Charles de Gaulle Airport well in the last five days.  I owe it all to the volcanic ash cloud, Iceland's latest contribution to world travel.

It all started two weeks ago, when I agreed to take a side trip from my job in Bahrain to look at a job in Bangui, Central African Republic.  It's a job the company I am currently working for is interested in bidding on.  Scott, a fellow worker and I were scheduled to be there for a week, taking measurements and pictures for the folks in the home office.  That was on April 9th. 

Just getting to the country was an adventure.  Armed with malaria pills, a yellow fever shot and the antibiotic Ciprol, I flew from Bahrain to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, then on to Nairobi, Kenya and Douala, Cameroon before finally landing in Bangui 20 hours later. 

Hotel du Centre, Bangui's finest

Bangui shows all the signs of decades of factional fighting and bad government.  Basic infrastucture is in poor shape even in the capital city.  Bad roads, undrinkable water and electricity that goes out two or three times a day.  The electricity had the greatest effect on our stay there, since the hotel's back up generator is too small to run air conditioning, making sleeping difficult in the sweltering rooms.  The local population is friendly and outgoing, but we were warned not to leave the city due to the gangs that roam the countryside.

I try to be an open-minded traveller, finding the good in each place I go, but still it was a relief to get on the plane out of the country.  From Bangui I was to fly to Paris, then to London and finally Bahrain.  A round about way to get there, for sure.  The wheels fell off when I got to Paris.   London's Heathrow Airport was closed due to the eruption. 

One of the iconic images of the Airport shutdown.  I saw many people snapping similar photos. The red lines are all cancelled flights.

Air France bussed everyone to a hotel in downtown Paris for the night.  The next day, we were back on the bus, but the Paris airport had also closed during the night.  Instead we were  driven to another hotel.  This one turned out to be the Newport Bay Club, a Cape Cod themed hotel in Disneyland Paris.  That's when I knew things had gotten downright Goofy! 

Looks just like Cape Cod!  Except for the Pacific Northwest themed lodge in the background- complete with its own beaver-dammed creek.

That's also when my week in Africa finally caught up with me. At four in the morning symptoms of gastric distress reached a point that I took the first of the Ciprol tablets I brought with me.  Within minutes I began to itch all over, starting with my feet, hands and eyes and spreading from there.  My tongue began to feel thick, it got harder to swallow and I worried that my throat might swell shut.  Trying not to panic I called the emergency number from my room.  A paramedic came to the room within minutes and in half an hour a doctor arrived.  By then the reaction had subsided quite a bit.  It was short-lived but intense. 

I have to say this about the French system of medical care.  To get a doctor to make a house call at four in the morning, give me a check-up, a pill for the allergic reaction and another to take care of my bowels, and for all that charge me 80 euros is a truly amazing experience for a guy used to the "American Health Care System."  I had images of an ambulance ride, admission to an emergency room and a bill for thousands of dollars that the insurance company would find a reason not to pay.

The following day we were carted back to the airport, told that no flights were going anywhere, and sent off to another hotel.  I have now been in four hotels in five days and spent too much time wandering the lonely halls of a mostly deserted airport, only to have to stand in long lines to find out what is happening.   I really can't complain.  I have a place to stay.  There are travellers here that are on their own, their resources dwindling or depleted.

Mona Lisas everywhere - this must be Paris

I managed to take the local train to the Eiffel Tower for an afternoon of sightseeing, but it is hard to get too far from the airport.  I have heard of all sorts of plans to get out of here, but the situation changes every day.  Today, the fifth day, I had a plan to take a bus to Toulouse in the south of France, where a flight to Dubai had left yesterday.  Now we are being told that airports in the south of France might close as the as ash cloud drifts south and the Paris airport might reopen if that cloud does move south.  "Come back at 3pm and we will have more information." 

So much for the Louvre...

As soon as I get back to my computer (I was clever enough not to bring it with me) I will add some pictures.

Update:  Well, I came back at 3pm and was told there would be no news until 7pm.  At 7pm guess what happened?  They closed the airport for the day.  "Come back tomorrow." was the only news.  I will be back tomorrow.  What else have I got to do?  Maybe I will take a train to Athens or Rome and fly from there.  Or maybe I'll just go back to the bar.  I can't do that very often though, a beer at this hotel is 12 euros. Mon Dieu!!

The latest (and last) update:  I am back in Bahrain!  The first Gulf Air flight out of Paris was a direct flight to Bahrain and I was on it.  I did just hear however, that for the last 2000 years every time the volcano erupting now (the little Iceland volcano) goes off, the BIG Iceland volcano erupts within six months...

Pearl Diving in Bahrain

This is the first of two blogs about pearl diving in Bahrain.  The second one will be from a historical standpoint. 

It's quite a story in its own right...

Waiting for the dive boat (first trip)

Loading up Mohammed's boat.  A pair of traditional fishing dhows are moored behind us.

Sitting on the rail of Mohammed’s boat, getting ready to enter the waters of the Arabian Gulf thirty miles off the coast of Bahrain, I make one last check of my scuba equipment. It is January, and the sea has cooled since my first dive here in September. The water temperature is now 70 degrees, and while that might be warm for Pacific Northwest water, it's definitely cold for these parts, where summer water temps run in the mid-80s.

This is my second dive trip in Bahrain and the first time I have been diving without Joann. It is also the first time wearing a full wetsuit. Its bulk is unfamiliar and I am having a harder time locating the regulator, the backup regulator, the air valves on my BCD (Buoyancy Compensation Device) vest, and the gauges. I am definitely the novice on this trip. Robin Bugeja, the dive master, estimates she has about 8000 dives under her weight belt.

Robin gets ready

The other two divers, John and Sian are on their first pearl dive, although they ran a diving service of their own in the past. Rob Gregory, who together with Robin own and operate PEARLDIVE, has the longest dive history of all, getting his start when he was hired by Walt Disney Studios as an underwater photographer during the 1969 filming of "Hamad and the Pirates" shot in the waters off Bahrain.  He is along on this trip to get video footage for a documentary he is putting together promoting World Heritage Site status for Bahrain’s pearl beds.

John and Sian ready to dive

Finally, I am ready. On Robin’s signal I put one hand on my mask to keep it in place, hold onto the camera lashed to my vest with the other, and tip over backward, splashing tankfirst into the sea. Surfacing, I signal everything is okay, and swim toward the line descending from the back of the boat. Sinking slowly along the line, letting air out of my BCD and equalizing the pressure in my ears and sinuses, I am soon hovering just above the bottom, 40 feet down. At the bottom of the line a weight and a net basket move slowly above the sea floor, pulled along by the boat drifting in the current.

 The weighted basket is kept off the bottom by a bright orange float bag, open on the bottom for adding air as the basket gets heavier with collected oysters. Visibility is good and I can clearly see the sandy bottom covered with clumps of oysters, small coral, and sea urchins. Thirty feet away is another line, this one hung from the front of the boat, also with weight and basket, and the two other divers, one on each side of the line, holding on with one hand and prying oysters loose from the bottom and dropping them into the basket with the other hand.

Oyster pickers

My attention today is focused more on collecting pictures, and less on collecting oysters. I want to test out the new camera I bought  yesterday. It is an Olympus Stylus Tough digital camera that claims to be waterproof down to 10 meters. We are going down to 12 meters, and I hope there is a built in fudge-factor that will keep the camera dry at that depth.

The camera still works!

Robin is the last one in and she soon joins us, checking lines, drift and divers as she goes. She has her own camera, the same model as mine and we take pictures of each other, before turning the cameras toward the scenes around us. Picking up the occasional oyster, I spend most of my time learning to manipulate the new camera underwater. The gloves I am wearing to protect my hands from the sharp edged clams and spiny urchins make me feel even more clumsy and are the first to go, tucking them into a pocket of my vest. I am woefully unfamiliar with the location of all the buttons and features and this camera is full of them, so I stick to one underwater setting and hope for the best.

Pearls in these, I'm sure

My second dive is a repeat of the first, only more productive. The current is not as strong, I am a bit more familiar with the camera. I am more relaxed and my tank of air lasts longer. After the dive, I somehow lose my snorkel as I am taking off my weight belt, tank and fins in the water before climbing the ladder back onto the boat. Robin surfaces behind me with it in her hand, having snatched it up as it floated down past her. All in a day’s work for a dive master.

Urchin-eyed Robin

Looking for pearls

Rob videos the action

It is now early afternoon and approaching time to return to the harbor. I still have a night’s work at the embassy to look forward to. In two dives John and Sian have picked up about 300 oysters. They start opening them on the boat in search of pearls while Rob videos and Mohammed utilizes some of the oyster meat to fish for dinner.

Mohammed fishes with oyster guts.  He will catch two or three fish, the largest about 12 inches. 

I manage to take several pictures, but only collect about 30 oysters. Those I will take back to my apartment and check for pearls later.

_________________________________________

On the return trip, we encounter a pod of 25 to 30 dolphins, jumping and splashing in the water ahead of us.  Dolphins are a fairly common sight in this area, but this group is especially large and playful.

Dolphin movies

Hangin' with ma

Mohammed cuts our speed to a crawl as we pass the dolphins, and he steers the boat in a large circle. The dolphins swarm around and under our boat, pacing our speed and peering up at us, jumping and showing off. For half an hour we make lazy circles, cameras clicking. Most of the pictures, of course are of empty water where dolphins just were, but I manage to capture some of the antics.  Once again I wish I was more familiar with the camera.

Under the boat

I'm not sure if I will have another chance to dive before I leave Bahrain.  February/March is the worst time of year for diving in the Arabian Gulf.  Besides the colder water temperature, the winds and currents keep the surface of the sea choppy and the underwater visibility reduced.  Good diving days are less frequent and harder to plan for with my work schedule.  Robin has taken advantage of the season and has gone to visit her Australian roots for the month.  Rob is up to his ears with video-editing.

What about those oysters I brought back?  They spend almost a week in the bottom of my fridge.  When I do get them out and open them up, I find two small pearls - both in the same oyster.  The report from John and Sian is 38 pearls out of their 300 oysters, a very good haul!

Christmas Letter 2009

This year it was Joann's turn to pen our annual year-end update.  Here is the year-in-review from her perspective:

Sting sings "The Cold Song". It’s a fitting tribute to the season and especially to the day. Looking out the window here in Rose Valley, I see a sky that is strangely similar in color to the one that resides over Manama, Bahrain, where John is currently working. One major difference in the two skies - the one here is filled with the fog of tiny ice crystals, and the one in Manama with sand and humidity from the Persian Gulf. Each has its own unique beauty and the resulting effects on the Christmas psyche.

I must say that seeing traditionally dressed Muslim travelers at the Manama airport, looking somewhat incredulously at the Santa Claus, elves, and polar bears (the latter arranged in a traditional Bahraini dhow/sailboat), also has its own location-specific effect. "

And so begins our tale of 2009, which actually began with three months in Macedonia.

After being fortunate enough to be able to stay home for the best part of 2008, in January of 2009 John accepted a job in Macedonia, what was called in the offer letter, "the former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia," or fYROM. Catchy name, isn’t it? Actually, the people much prefer that their country is called simply Macedonia, Republic of Macedonia, but then the Greeks are having issues with that, among other things. (see comments below)  Either way, we left for Skopje, the capital, without having any expectations except perhaps the thought that we might be seeing a lot of post-Soviet- concrete-style architecture. We were not disappointed there. Before this job even materialized though, our vision was that we would end up in a place that would be unexpectedly delightful. That’s always an excellent thought to have in any instance. WHADDAYAKNOW? Turned out to be exactly what our experience was there. We found the people to be warm and welcoming which was by far the best part of Macedonia.

 Two of these people were our landlords, Vera and Giorgi Dzabirov. We rented the upstairs apartment in their home, formerly occupied by their now-adult daughters. Vera did not speak English, but spoke instead the language of food; the baked goods dialect. On a regular basis, Vera would come knocking with a plateful of a high-calorie something or other. Before we left Macedonia, we were treated to a dinner of traditional Macedonian dishes: Sausages, beans, pickled vegetables, breads, stuffed grape leaves, and little aperitifs of Rakia. Omar the Tentmaker and Fashionista, I believe, was in cahoots with Vera. If Switzerland hadn’t done us in with food, Macedonia had to be a close second.

The other major element that made our, but especially my stay in Macedonia so great was our relationship with Gordana, my Macedonian language tutor and her fiancé (now husband), Naume. In their late 20’s, they both have grown up in a post-Tito Macedonia, where the reality of high inflation, little manufacturing base left, and low wages makes life economically challenging. Hm. Somehow that sounds vaguely familiar. Whether it was the lack of a lot of material things (e.g. their landlord owned not only their apartment building & apartment, but also their furniture), or because of it, Gordana and Naume were more than happy to share their very rich lives with us. Their interests ranged from literature, music, theater, and art to politics and more mundane aspects of life in the non-European Union Balkans. They both speak several languages (Gordana taught English, and Naume French at a local language school), and in fact Gordana is now ending the first semester of a two year scholarship studying English, Portuguese, and Italian ‘abroad.’ Needless to say, we Americans get the Language Buffoon Prize. My attempts at Macedonian were received with kindness and patience…

Leaving Macedonia in late spring, we returned home to find an assortment of squirrel and mouse prizes, but none as spectacular as the ones that Seth and Savannah discovered here just before we returned home from Switzerland. Squirrels are indeed industrious and persistent creatures.

Spring and early summer found us embarking on house projects, the biggest one being the excavation/preparation for the new porch and entryway that John designed, the ensuing concrete pad for that, followed by our friend Snowy’s excellent rockwork. Although feeling somewhat like the Winchester Mystery Mansion, the house continues to transform but not actually get any bigger. One of these decades, it will actually be finished-more or less. Summer, what there was of it here for John, seemed to fly by filled with PROJECTS. Although, always happy to get things ‘done,’ we seemed to have little time, with the exception of a kayak paddle or two with our friends, Les and Gary, for one of our favorite places to be: in and/or on the water.

That lack may have been one of the inspirations for our next visualizations for a job location. Yes, an island located in a warm place. We just hadn’t quite prepared ourselves for how effective our imaginings would be. When John arrived in Bahrain in mid-July, the daily temperatures averaged in the 120’s. When I arrived in September, daily temps had fortunately cooled down significantly to the 100-110’s. Whew, that was a relief! The swimming pool on the roof of the apartment building provided a welcome sanctuary for me each afternoon. John at least could work mostly in the air-conditioned US Embassy.

 While I was in Manama, we managed to tour the Grand Mosque at the end of Ramadan, get SCUBA recertified, go pearl-diving (and actually find a couple of really little pearls), tour the aircraft carrier Nimitz that came into port for a couple of days, and do a quickie trip to the water slides at the Atlantis Palm in Dubai. It may sound like we were in major vacation mode - and we are when we get these very special opportunities, but in the meantime, which is by far most of the time that we are overseas, John is working long hours. He continues to do so.

After a two-month stay in Bahrain, I returned home almost just in time for the really big event of 2009! The November 5th arrival of Sedona Dakota Krohn on planet earth. There are no words to describe what an incredible little being she is. Darcy has been able to stay home with her, continuing some of her duties as office manager for Stanek’s Nursery and Florist, at home and will resume a part-time at the office work schedule next month. Kris had two weeks at home to help get Sedona off to a good start before he had to return to Alderwood Landscape & Design where he continues his job as a landscape architect.

Our other offspring are also each on their own respective paths of life, love, and self-discovery. Arista seems to be thriving in Wenatchee still working part time for Stone Soup (artists’ marketing group), part time at a bistro, and in her ‘spare’ time working to develop her web design business. Seth remains a Republic resident sharing his life with Savannah, but has made a major career change. In August, he began working for Curlew Job Corps as their Assistant Recreation Manager. His recurring cheesy smile is often accompanied by the comment, “I can’t believe I actually get PAID to do this.” He’s enjoying working with the students, to say the least. And the youngest of the kid bunch, Jonathan/aka JP is living in Republic continuing with his self-directed education in important life lessons. Hopefully, we’re all still doing that, I guess! And last but not least, Sebastian, the truly senior citizen of the household at 11, is keeping track of squirrel, deer and coyote proceedings from the comfort of his pillow inside the glass doors.

From different corners of the world this Christmas, we send you our love and best wishes for the holidays and new year!

Joann and John

Bahrain

When my job working on the new American Embassy in Bern, Switzerland finished in June, 2008, Joann and I made a conscious effort to stay home until after the holiday season. It had been a couple of years since I had celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas stateside. It was great to be home for awhile - a long while. We spent an entire summer, fall and winter, visiting family and friends, sailing Gillyfoyle, getting some projects done and starting others.

Fresh snow at the cabin on New Years Day 2009

Sitting in front of the fireplace with a cup of Christmas cheer, lit by the glow of the fire and the twinkle of the Christmas tree lights, and with New Years day rapidly approaching, we knew that the search for the next job, always present in the background of activities, was about to begin in earnest. With snow blowing against the window and the occassional cold draft that found it's way in through the log walls, we imagined where we might like the next job to be. An island setting somewhere warm would be nice ...

Bahrain is an island ... and it is warm. Other than that, it is entirely unlike any place we had imagined we might go.

A basic fact about life - it has never been restricted to what we could imagine.

The view from my apartment. That isn't smog, it's steam

Actually, "warm" was an understatement - "oppressively hot and humid" would be closer to the truth. The middle of July is not the best time to come here, unless you are a wrinkled suit in need of steaming. Working a night shift at the embassy might seem a bit easier without the sun beating down, but it only increased the humidity. I actually looked better after working outside for awhile. When my clothes were totally soaked, there weren't any tell-tale wet spots. My clothes were just a bit different color. For a guy from northern Washington state, it took quite a bit of acclimatizing. On noontime walking trips to the market, I sought out the shade like a Death Valley lizard. And I was always going out in the hottest part of the day. Between work and sleep, that's the only time left.

The tide is out in a waterfront area slated for land reclamation. In the background is a mix of apartment buildings, with modern highrises and construction projects in the distance.

The Bahrain World Trade CenterYou can see it in the background of the previous picture.
The building gets a portion of it's energy from three wind turbines. (photo: http://www.libertyparkusafd.org/lp/BuildingGreenUSA/)

 

Where is Bahrain? On the west side of the Persian Gulf, east of Saudi Arabia and across the water from Iran, the coastline is dotted with what used to be many small Sheikhdoms. Bahrain, an island near the center, is one of the smallest, one of the first to discover oil, and the first to diversify away from an oil economy when the oil began to run out. Only 257 square miles in size, it is 92 per cent desert.

Google Earth is great when I get job offers for places I've never heard of.

I will probably be here until sometime in February of 2010. Joann has been here for a month and will return home in November. In the next blog post I will update you on just what we have been up to.