Scary stuff

The definition of intimidating: a man in military fatigues, a Kalashnikov slung over the shoulder, his face completely obscured by the camouflage cloth wrapped around his head and chin and the pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses perched on his face.

“Bonjour, madame. Ca va?”
“Oui, merci, ca marche. Et vous?”
“Pas mal. Vous etes francaise?”
(Commence inner monologue: if I say no, will this conversation be over? Or will this only encourage more questions? My God, I wish he would go away.”)

He gives me a gap-toothed smile and shifts the gun on his shoulder, which is apparently chafing him what with the sand blowing everywhere. In so doing, the muzzle of the AK points briefly at me. (Inner monologue: Don’t look away. Don’t look nervous. But God, that gun looks twenty years old – is there even a safety on that thing? I’ll bet he did that on purpose.)

I have had that conversation so many times, I can’t even tell you. Aside from the novelty of talking to a white woman, these guys are probably very aware of how intimidating they are. I’m sure it’s great fun to scare the speech out of internationals. Plus they want to practice their French, which they speak poorly, since most of the so-called army is illiterate and Arabic is their native tongue.

The good news is, I’m writing about this well after the fact. I’m now back in N’djamena, which while not totally safe is certainly not Abeche. Hopefully I’ve ridden in my last convoy for a while.

That’s all for now. Apologies for the short update, but it’s my last day in Chad and time is precious.

Ps – I am aware that the photos from the last update did not upload. The connection through the VSAT is so slow that it appears to crash the system. Hopefully I’ll have more luck in Dakar.