Ya Rayah - The EMigrant

 "Oh Emigrant

Oh where are you going?
Eventually you must come back
How many ignorant people have regretted this
Before you and me
How many overpopulated countries and empty lands have you seen?
How much time have you wasted?
How much have you yet to lose?
Oh emigrant in the country of others
Do you even know what's going on?
Destiny and time follow their course but you ignore it
Why is your heart so sad?
And why are you staying there miserable?
Hardship will end and you no longer learn or build anything
The days don't last, just as your youth and mine didn't
Oh poor fellow who missed his chance just as I missed mine
Oh traveler, I give you a piece of advice to follow right away
See what is in your interest before you sell or buy
Oh sleeper, your news reached me
And what happened to you happened to me
Thus, the heart returns to its creator, the Highest (God)"

Traduction of one of my favourite song of all time (original in Arabic by Rachid Taha)
Still trying to take that advise.
One day maybe....

Strip-tease en Transit....

Ce fameux Gate 5 a l’aéroport de Johannesburg, il semble me porter chance a chaque fois.

La dernière fois que j’y suis passé c’était pour aller a Addis-abeba, Ethiopie.
J’ai remarqué cette jeune dame pleine de vie aux airs de gitane… Le genre qui a des étoiles et des arcs-en-ciel pleins les yeux… Je l’ai observé pendant un long moment et un peu envié son insouciance évidente sans la connaitre. 

Dans l’avion, je l’ai perdu de vue, je n’ai pas non plus cherche à la retrouver c’est vrai, parce que j’avais largement le temps de le faire pendant les huit heures de vol.

Arrivé a Addis Abeba, je me lance rapidement – je suis en transit pour un vol sur Paris – à la quête d’un paquet de café local et de quelques souvenirs; en particulier ces petites fenêtres en bois avec des icônes orthodoxes et croix en métal, particularités de l'art axoumite. C’est alors que je suis interrompu par une voie aussi forte que douce, me demandant gentiment un coup de main; la gitane de Johannesburg qui se plaint d’avoir de l’huile dans les mains qui l’empêcherait d’ouvrir le boîtier de son téléphone portable… Elle m’a retrouvé.

Les introductions faites, elle me fascine encore plus.

Dans le civil comme on dit, je  suis payé pour identifier les opportunités d’investissements dans le secteur minier en Afrique. 

Mais sur ce coup, je suis passé à côté de cette perle qui vient de terminer un séjour de 6 mois a deux pas de chez moi. Les cordonniers sont les plus mal chausses dit-on.

Il fait très chaud et humide en Ethiopie en cette fin de soirée; l’aéroport est bondée de monde de tout part : des Asiatiques qui rentrent chez eux, beaucoup de Juifs également, Congolais et Nigérians comme très souvent dans les aéroports. 

On discute de tout et de rien comme deux vieux amis qui se rencontrent dans un bar; souvenirs de voyages en Namibie, les chutes Victoria, Paris, Bangalore, le café au Rwanda, le Vietnam, etc. 

Elle est de loin devant moi quand on compte les pays visités, surtout si je ne compte pas les zones de transit comme c'est le cas encore a Addis-Abeba, ou les vacances en famille; elle est souriante, compétitive, pleine d'énergie, blagueuse et intelligente.

Dix minutes à peine qu’on se connaît, le destin décide d’accélérer les choses : Ceintures défaites, chaussures, blousons retirés, on se déshabille déjà l’un à coté de l’autre : Security Check.

Je sais que je ne suis pas prêt de la revoir; elle va s’envoler dans quelques instants en route pour Vancouver et je rejoins Paris dans quelques heures; l'idée semble nous rendre plus confortable mais me désole aussi un peu. Elle a le temps pendant la conversation de m'adresser un crochet du droit dans les côtes en réponse à une blague plutôt osée de ma part.
Je me souviens alors que c'est une façon qu'utilise les petites filles à l'école maternelle pour démontrer leur affection a un garçon.

Il paraît qu’avec les réseaux sociaux le monde n’est plus qu’un petit village; j’espère frapper à la porte de sa case très bientôt ou la recroiser dans un aéroport, de préférence pendant un orage....

Gate 5 une fois de plus, trois mois plus tard, je me rends compte que je serais sur le même vol qu’une dame aussi fascinante que la dernière. 

Beaucoup plus âgée mais avec la même énergie, dotée forte personnalité, intelligente, le regard glacial comme sa Scandinavie natale.

Elle est à la tête d'une compagnie qui se pose comme mon principal concurrent.

et ignore certainement que depuis près de 2 ans -  et un dossier où elle m’a prouvé qu’on pouvait être compétitif en affaire tout en restant honnête -  elle est devenue un quelque sorte mon mentor.

Cette fois-ci j’ai pris la peine de la retrouver dans l’avion, je n’ai que 2 heures de vol pour dire merci.

The French, the Uruguayans and the Zambians

Zambia... not the most popular country in Africa;

the few people I know who have heard of it are either those that have visited Victoria Falls or those involved directly or not in Africa mining industry.

Because Zambia is located across what is called the Copperbelt, of the world's largest reserves of copper; and the country is Africa number one producer of the oldest metal known to men.

These past 18 months, I have visited this country over 10 times, essentially in the mining hub.

Once went to see the falls and for the first time I got all the up the capital city, Lusaka.

Zambian are very religious; and when it comes to doing business one can believe it is ideal, because they would be honest and sincere - I sure think they are - but when Karl Marx said that religion is the opium of the people he was perhaps referring to Zambians.

In my experience, they are the most soft, gentle and unfortunately passive people I have got to meet.

Great contrast when you visit their close neighbors from D.R.Congo (they deserve their own story on another day).

On my way here, about 20 minutes prior to landing , the pilot announced that we have been requested to wait for a little while as they are VVIP as he said arriving; the Japanese president I was told later on by a RPG-7 carrying soldier as I walked out of the plane.

We ended up going in circles over the town for about 9 times;

I had stopped counting at some point, but I could clearly make up the number of revolution we made as there is a massive shiny soccer stadium sticking out of the green during the approach.

I didn't mention I was traveling in a 12-seater and I was sitting right behind the pilots. So as we were happily going round and round I was curiously paying attention to try and catch our pilot checking if he could land. I may be wrong but I didn't hear him ask for any authorization, so he I was inspecting the town from above and counting how many times I had seen shiny stadium.

As for the title, I am writing this while watching the friendly between Les Bleus and La Celeste.

Excavator & Hunger Strike

One day my Mum returned from a trip and brought my brother and I new toys;

some random robot with lights in his eyes for me and a remote controlled excavator for my brother.

My brain had chosen to not remember all details of the scene but I recall the moment where she handed us the toys; she kept saying "please look after your toys this time !!! if anything breaks come see me immediately".

I left the scene to go enjoy y new toy with my 5 or so years old brain wondering what was she going to do should anything break. Replace it? Exchange? Fix?

Curiosity took over the excitement of getting a new toy. I started playing alongside my brother with my boggled mind.

Then suddenly, as if the gods had decided to get involved and enlighten my day, my brother who was busy trying to dig a hole in the gravel covered ground with his new toy when the arm of his truck broke (now that I think of it, it probably just unclipped or something). He looked sad - I secretly got excited.

I was rather sooner than expected going to find out what happens when you break your band new toy.

Here we were, like a procession carrying the broken toy to the veranda where my mum was sitting;

I was not directly concerned I just joined out of curiosity but my guts still had suggested I keep safe distance.

My brother showed his now two - three pieces toy to my Mum with those sad puppy eyes.

She gently took it from him, inspected the damages, put the evidences on the floor by her feet and requested that he brings the broom.

There I was watching, the tension rising and still with no idea of what was gonna happen.

Assessing what part of my robot I may have to break to get the same "reward".

The broom arrived and in an instant I saw my mum enter a brief moment of craze;

she flipped the broom and start bashing the truck on the floor angrily and destroying it further.

I panicked and ran far  away with Gizmo (just named him now).

Twenty and odd years later , in the middle of what happens to be one of the toughest period of my professional life I am sitting in a veranda at some hotel and the scenes of that day came flashing back to my mind.

A few moments earlier, I was reflecting on the mess I was currently in and I realize that I have the very bad habit of wanting to make matters worse when I find myself in an uncomfortable situation.

For instance, as a teenager when I was running out of pocket money, I would use my last cents to take a taxi somewhere away from home and land myself somewhere with no means to get back.

Often in my life, when things don't go my way, I try to put myself in even deeper problems;

like some kind of hunger strike to rebel against the universe.

I am now wondering if there is a link between the excavator destruction episode and my hunger strikes.