Today is Thursday, but I think that I can already call it a week.
Because up until this week, this is how I felt my life in Dakar was feeling:
At last, things finally started to shake up a bit.
Some of you have questioned my sanity as I decided to step in and unofficially help the office that is keeping tabs on me during my tour in Dakar. It’s pretty hectic in there- but this is through no lack of competency. The reality is that they carry out a lot of great, but maddeningly-undefined (I believe the politically-correct word is ‘dynamic’) missions. So cue Megan, the roaming “scholar” who pops in every so often to check for parcels, stuff plastic Easter eggs with candy, and discuss my workout regimen with the various guards….
As the boss in there has said “I know I can’t task you, and I don’t want to come off like a barracuda surrounding a perfectly capable Navy 0-4, but….”
So I decided to take on one small tiny tasker. Only a simple multinational exercise involving five countries. Waaaaitaminute. This suddenly sounds an awful lot like my last job…
No really, here I am in Zamboanga serving as an exercise coordinator for Philippines phase of CARAT…..
And here I am on Wednesday, representing the United States for a similar event. It was the first time I donned the khaki here in Dakar, and I was most bemused that so many Senegalese described me as “belle” in my uniform. Sorry, but beauty and defense by definition are mutually exclusive concepts if you ask me…
So yes, Wednesday morning marked the first day in a heat-friendly polyester-wool uniform. But I’m not doing this story much justice- I’m making it far more seamless than it actually was. The event was to take place on one day, but half the participants got that day confused (I don’t know how). When I called to make sure that they got into town okay, I was told “Oh yes, they are about to board the plane for Dakar.” What?!
So that was annoying, but luckily the most of the folks we work with are super-competent, and they flexed without batting a lash. Well, most of the Senegalese Navy were flexible. Just like in any group of people, there are individuals who must flex their importance. I have old bosses that would do this all the time (by the way, this imaginactment is my own creation- I’m not saying that it is reality):
- 3:30 am – The middle of the ocean, sometime in March. Some high ranking surface warfare officer (SWO) on a ship wakes up from a dead sleep:
- “I just had a vision! We should cruise into the waters of a country X and tell them to do an exercise with all of their neighboring countries! Oh, and we’ll invite ourselves of course, because we have cool toys!”
- 3:35 am- He gets on his SWO phone and wakes up the Lieutenant who is messing around on Facebook while he should be standing a vigilant watch:
- “Find me an asset that is close to Country X! And get a hold of our country reps on the ground and tell them that they need to volunteer this country to host some playtime with us and some of their favorite neighbors!”
- 1:30 pm – The country rep’s office, a few months later. The boss is going through a laundry list of taskers, and Innocent LCDR X is sitting poised with her Filofax, after succumbing to an excess of downtime. She has volunteered to help support the mission.
- Boss: “Do you think you can pick up this little sea-going event that is planned for next month?”
- Me: “Yes Sir.”
I’ve “got” it. I’m suddenly planning and coordinating an exercise that I come to find out has had zero foundation laid. It only exists in name. Not surprising, but I am still surprised all the same. I am the one who gets to draft letters in my high school level French to people who rank higher than I ever will. So begins a new learning curve, where balls are bound to be dropped, as Megan Learns The Hard Way (this is a recurring theme in my life).
So as you can see, my cluelessness does ultimately allow for neglect of major components. When I finally identify these oversight, it is usually too late. This is how I ended up on the phone in the most pointed and “culturally enriching” professional conversations I have had to date….
- Me: “Mon Secrétaire Général, would your command like to participate in this event? Cuz if you do, the planning conference was supposed to be today, but now it’s tomorrow.”
- Here I would, if I could, paste a transcript of the fifteen minute-long, one-way conversation that I then enjoyed with the head cheese of this organization. I heard everything from how country cooperation is important- especially after the tragic capsizing of the ferry Joola, to how we, the United States, cannot throw up last-minute ideas and hold meetings without proper coordination. Of course he wasn’t yelling, but he was doing it in his typical, francophone and senior officer way that lets you know that you fucked up.
What can I say? He was absolutely right. Was I excited to be on the receiving end of this diatribe? Of course not, but I couldn’t disagree with him in the slightest. At the end of the tongue-lashing, he suddenly took an interest in me (this is kind of a very Senegalese thing to do- they don’t like interactions to end on a bad note). He asked me what I was doing in Dakar, what school I was going to, and then told me that I spoke excellent French. Oh and yes, he’s be sending a rep to my little meeting.
Okay, that’s enough posting for tonight on this story. I’ll pick up the rest of my week tomorrow. There’s always more to the story.