back on the grind

I am back safe and sound in my 3rd home away from home! The trip this time was a million times easier than the first time around. My return flight was pretty much the same group of folks that I returned home with back in October, so it was nice to walk into the airport with a bunch of familiar faces. Once I get a consistent schedule I will “crew change” with the same group of folks each time I come to and from Malongo, which means everyone will get used to me roaming the aisle of the plane in my PJ’s for most of the 15 hour flight :)

When I arrive back on camp, it’s around 13:30 (6AM Texas time) and most everyone goes straight to the salad bar to get the last of any cold cuts or lettuce since the dining areas usually close at 13:00. My lunch on Thursday was lettuce (no dressing), rice and beans – that’s when it sinks in that you’re really back in Malongo. During lunch time there are two options for food: salad bar and mess hall. The mess hall is true Angolan food geared towards the ~3,500 nationals that come into camp for work each day. I went there once last hitch to give it a try and chose one of the beef/bean stew options. Things didn’t go well, so I stick to the salad bar most days.

Thursday and Friday night were the worst because I was going to bed too early and waking up between 1 and 3AM, but I am pretty much adjusted to the time difference now. Yesterday afternoon my construction coordinator, Phil, came into my office asking if I had a minute. That minute turned into about an hour because he got me into the kitchen to learn how to make roux for the gumbo he was making. For those of us who aren’t coon asses, roux is the heart of any gumbo and if you mess it up the whole pot is ruined. It was a lot of pressure considering that the folks we were cooking for were about 97% Louisiana born and raised. Thanks to Phil’s supervision, I have to say that the shrimp and okra gumbo (fun fact: okra originated in West Africa) turned out pretty well. With a few more lessons from Phil in the kitchen and a couple more rounds of Bourre (boo-ray) I will fit in with the rest of the Bayou folks around here.

Leaving home is tough, but everyone here makes it much easier. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing the stories all these guys have about the good ol days from first jobs as gandy dancers to bartering with natives while drilling exploratory wells in Sudan...

3 days down, 25 to go! xoxo