I never thought I’d say…

A friend: “You know, you’ve lost some weight.”

Me: “I sure hope not!”

and

Me to Mister, after weighing myself upon receiving the above compliment: “Good news! I gained two pounds!!”

14 weeks

Christmas cooking

I’ve been slaving in the kitchen all morning, doing my part to prepare for our community Christmas feast. This year there will be no turkey and stuffing, nor will there be ham spiked with cloves. Instead, we will be celebrating Christmas pool side with a Mexican fiesta. On the menu are chicken enchiladas, a taco bar, and lime margaritas and pina-coladas made from scratch using locally grown fruits. There are no Mexican restaurants in Conakry, so this is a treat. I am counting down the hours until it starts.

And for your next Mexican fiesta, maybe you should include some of these delicious (if I do say so myself) recipes:

Smoked Tomato Relish and Green Onion Crème Fraiche

Close enough to Chuy’s Creamy Jalapeno Dressing (no cilantro for me thankyouverymuch)

Sweet pulled pork – Café Rio style (I use Dr. Pepper instead of Coke)

Merry Christmas! I hope Santa brought you everything you wished for.

Holiday Greetings

Whether you’re celebrating in sweaters and scarves or swimsuits and sunscreen, we hope your Christmas is a merry one.

- Mister and Anne (and the little babe too)

Christmas Eve 2011 - Roume Island, Guinea

Guys and guns

I spent a portion of this afternoon helping Mister clean and reassemble the weapons he used at the range today. I’m pretty sure he has never been attracted to me more than he was the moment I secured the final pin in that first submachine gun.

I never thought I’d say…

Upon looking at his watch:

Mister: It’s December 21st. Four days until Christmas!

Me: I know, it’s weird. It doesn’t feel like it at all*!

Mister: Yeah, it’s like we live in a place that doesn’t celebrate it.

Me: Well, actually, we do. This is a (predominantly) Muslim country, remember?

Mister: Oh yeah…

 

*As evidenced by me dating everything October lately, among other things.

Christmas came early

I had a rough weekend. It started with the worry that my mefloquine use in the first trimester caused irreparable harm to my baby (this is about 1% a real concern and 99% my flare for the dramatic/hormones). Friday was a mostly decent day. Then, we were without electricity and water for three days, during which I got few hours of sleep (turns out I really depend on the a/c to drown out lots of outside noise, including morning prayer, blared through the speakers of a nearby mosque), and only one shower. I was pretty miserable. I woke up on Monday tired, slightly stinky, and a bit crampy, which worried me (the crampy part, not everything else), so I stopped into the health unit for a little reassurance. The PA asked if I had heard a heart beat yet, and I said no, but not for lack of trying. Dr. Google had reassured me that, thanks to my ummm…extra cushioning, I may not hear it until 18 weeks or so, so while I wasn’t thrilled about it, I also wasn’t worried. The PA said, well, let’s try again, just for fun. So we did, and there it was. A good, strong heartbeat.

Thank you baby. I really  needed to hear that.

Engrossed

…and taking copious notes just off frame.  The perfect student.

Die mosquitoes!

**Alternate title: Mom, this post isn’t going to make you feel any better about me being pregnant in Africa, so you probably shouldn’t continue reading.**

As you probably know, malaria is a big problem here. You may not know is that taking anti-malarial drugs doesn’t necessarily prevent you from getting malaria, but can lessen the severity if you do get it. In fact, two people in our little community have had malaria in the 5 months I’ve been here.

Up until now, being pregnant in Africa has merely been frustrating (and of course miserable, thanks to dumb morning sickness). Tonight it became a tad bit scary.

From the minute I learned I was pregnant, I have been very careful to take precautions to avoid getting malaria (it can cause anemia, miscarriage, preterm birth and death in pregnant women); taking my anti-malarial medication as prescribed (although when I just now looked up mefloquine on drugs.com it said do not take while pregnant or breastfeeding*…awesome), staying inside during peak mosquito hours (even missing awesome events such as the Marine Ball and a dive in viewing of National Lampoons Christmas Vacation), and if I did have to be outside during that time, bathing in mosquito repellant. Admittedly, I haven’t been sleeping under a mosquito net, but only because I had never seen a mosquito in the house. Until tonight that is. Tonight I saw a mosquito hovering around my hand, but luckily killed it before it could suck my blood (and possibly give me malaria). I am tired, hungry and have crazy hormones anyway, but I immediately burst into tears. I’m sure I will feel better after some food and a good nights sleep (under the mosquito net I’ll make Mister install), but right now I’m ready to jump on the next plane back to the states.

 

*although, I don’t believe testing has really been done on this specific demographic. In this case, the benefits of taking mefloquine outweigh the risks of getting malaria.

Randoms

*I should keep a list (or better yet, photos) of all of the crazy things people carry on their heads. The latest? A bathtub.

*I have exercised, via a half hour walk around my little compound, every day but one in the past two weeks. I’m surprised at my dedication.

*We have a duvet cover that has that soft microfiber stuff on one side (you know what I’m talking about, right? It’s like fleece, but even softer). I don’t know if we ran out of clean sheets, or she wanted to try something new, but our housekeeper put our duvet cover on the bed like a fitted sheet. I was skeptical at first, but it turns out it’s kind of a dream.

*I don’t know if it’s because civilization is a mere month and a half away, but these days I have zero tolerance for the chaos that is driving in Guinea. Every outing in the last week or so has resulted in me getting super angry, or bursting into tears.  I just want a little order! A single police man equipped with a length of rubber tubing manning an intersection with at least10 cars (turning both left and right) trying to cross 4 very congested lanes of traffic  is hardly effective.

*Speaking of, I witnessed my first two car accidents on Sunday, both within the span of 20 minutes. One was a fender bender, but the other involved two guys falling off their motorcycle. Luckily they had slowed down quite a bit to try to pass a car so they weren’t too badly hurt, but it was horrifying to watch. The guy in the other car either didn’t see them fall, or didn’t care. I worry so much about motorcyclists here. Traffic is crazy, and very few of them wear helmets.

*I don’t think we’re having Christmas this year. I’ve already opened my present, and Mister can’t decide on something he wants. Even if he did, it wouldn’t get here in time. The fact that we live in a predominantly Muslim country and it’s 85 degrees outside doesn’t quite put me in the Christmas spirit either.

*I just got a pair of maternity skinny jeans. The more I wear them the more I’m convinced that all skinny jeans, maternity or otherwise, should be made with an elastic waistband.

new pe(s)ts

My friend came over yesterday, and as I swung the door open to let him in, something much more substantial than an ant landed on my arm and scampered away as I let out a blood-curdling scream. I looked over to see what it was, and was relieved to see a little-ish lizard and not the cockroach I was expecting.

Today I walked past the front door and saw not one, but TWO lizards hanging out on the wall. As I stood there and looked at them, I watched one disappear in the molding (so that’s how they’re getting inside), but this little guy stuck around long enough for me to go back to my bedroom, grab my camera and take a picture. It’s actually kind of cute.

My cousin, who studies creepy crawlies for a living, would be in heaven right now. Me? I’m just glad it’s a lizard (or three) and not a spitting cobra (or a football sized rat for that matter). I mean, they eat insects right? Perhaps they are just what we need to take care of our ant problem.

Decking the halls

Last Sunday, while Mister was on a “No Girls Allowed” trip out to the islands…

We may be surrounded by ocean here in Conakry, but we have to take a 30 minute boat ride to enjoy it (that is unless you enjoy dodging mountains of trash and rocks when you visit the beach).

…I decided it was high time to decorate for Christmas. Unfortunately, it also meant it was high time to clean out the storage room (aka dumping grounds) so I could even reach the Christmas decorations. An hour later the Christmas stuff was rescued, yet another hour later the fake tree had been assembled and fluffed, about fifteen minutes after that I was EXHAUSTED, and a week later, our living room still looks like this:

The nativity has been set out, our stockings have been hung, there are exactly 15 ornaments on the tree, and the boxes in the middle of the room are still stuffed with decorations. There is a very good chance that is where they will stay until after the holidays, when I finally muster the energy to pack away the nativity, stockings and fifteen ornaments in their rightful places; in the boxes that have been conveniently stored in the middle of the room. Now that’s efficiency!

Cultural differences

Several weeks ago, after I had found out that I was pregnant but before we had announced it, my housekeeper (who had likely seen at least one (of the 5) pregnancy tests I had taken), said to me in her very sing-songy thick accented English, either “You’re getting far” or “You’re getting fat.” I  I chose to believe it was the former.

Fast forward to today as we were getting ready to go to work. She sings to me, and there is no mistaking it this time, “You’re getting fat.” I just laughed and smiled because how does one even respond to such a thing? I’m guessing that in her culture, that is just her way of telling me that I’m beginning to show (which for the record I’m not really, I just happen to carry all of my extra weight in my belly and at this time have no energy or reason to try to conceal it), and that being “fat” while pregnant is just a good indication that your pregnancy is a healthy one.

Yes, that is SURELY what she meant…right?!

And speaking of getting fat, look what I got in the mail today:

It is going to take every ounce of self control not to eat all of these in one sitting! (thanks Erica!)

Your burning questions

Ok, so no one really has any burning questions, but because being pregnant in a developing country (and really any country that isn’t the US) while in the line of work that my husband (and me by extension) is in, things go down a little bit differently, so I thought I’d fill you in.

Let’s back up a little bit. When we bid on Conakry, we knew we’d have to put off having babies because it was designated an adults only post. Well, things have changed here in the last little bit and a few weeks after we arrived it was officially changed back to a family post. So yay! We got our nimba, and the rest is history.

Medevacs are expensive, so we only get one, and we could choose between going for either the first or second trimester screenings. For my other appointments, we have a nurse practitioner here at post who will act as my ob/gyn. There will be no ultrasounds, and unless she determines whether or not her office has a doppler, no listening to the heartbeat (well, she will have a stethoscope). Just the basics. Luckily, Mister and I are due an R&R in January, so I plan on finding an ob/gyn when I’m in Utah so I can find out whether we’re having a boy or a girl. P.S. If you are a mom in Salt Lake and you love your ob, do share. I am in the market for one.

As long as everything is progressing normally, I will stay in Conakry until I’m 34 weeks,  at which point I will get my enormous belly on a cramped plane back to Utah to wait out the last weeks of pregnancy before I have my baby. Mister will join me a week or so before my due date, and stay for a few weeks after I deliver (I think, that part is still up in the air a bit). If obtaining medical clearance is no problem, and if what I read about babies being protected against yellow fever by mom’s anti-bodies is true, I will head back to Guinea when the babe is 6 weeks old. If the info about yellow fever is completely fabricated, then I won’t be able to go back until the baby is able to be vaccinated, at 6 months.

I’ll be honest, it’s a teensy bit scary being pregnant in a country without adequate health care, but I have been reassured that they will gladly send me back to the states the second I feel that it is in my best interest to do so. And really, if my mom had anything to do with it, I’d be on a flight tomorrow. Pregnancy here is also frustrating! I routinely crave things that don’t exist here (like fresh leaf spinach salads), and the green apples I sent my housekeeper to buy (they’re a bit difficult to find here), weren’t meant to be. She came back with green peppers both times. *Sigh*

While I (im)patiently wait for this baby to grow, I’m just happy to have an excuse not to suck in my stomach. Aaah, sweet relief. Yay for babies!