The Good Life

I honestly feel like I should pinch myself.

This weekend, I moved into the most beautiful apartment complex known to man. I now live less than five minutes away from my workplace. I have a challenging job and a wonderful boyfriend. Things just couldn’t get any better, but I feel like I am just asking for it to end by putting it down on paper (or the electronic equivalent of paper, anyway).

The difference between what I thought I would be doing while living in Gambia and what I am actually doing is a bit disconcerting at times. That old guilt starts to creep around sometimes when I think about the fact that I came to Gambia to help develop the country by teaching in Brikama and assisting with the organization of the library. I look around me and see my beautiful apartment and my fancy phone and my comfortable office and think that I’ve done a complete 180 in just two months.

But, the more I think about it, the last thing Gambia needs right now is another white person coming in and trying to develop it. Gambia needs help developing itself. I think the best way to do that is by developing the economy of the private sector. So, maybe my involvement with my company is the best thing I can do right now. I am able to contribute my education to raising the caliber of work performed in the private sector. I get to show Gambians, who did not have access to the same education I did, the best way to approach business, be it through time management training for the staff or having a say in the amount of educational reimbursement my company provides. Furthermore, my boss has given me responsibility of overseeing our corporate social responsibility efforts so I get to spend my time at work organizing a free lecture series at a nearby high school and providing administrative support for a newly developed (local!) foundation.

Like I said earlier, I just don’t think it could get any better.

Detention

Unfortunately, I'm not referring to high school style detention. No, I was actually really detained this weekend in Nigeria. But, before I can get to that story, I should provide a pretty monstrous update on my recent activities.

As many of you know, I started working in The Gambia. I work for a company called Pristine Consulting, which is a technology company providing the full spectrum of technology-related functions, from software development, web design and programming, to advanced Microsoft products such as Microsoft Nav. From the way I described my company, I'm sure you can tell I'm doing the public relations and marketing side of the business. Well, that is what I am supposed to be doing. Unfortunately, the Chief Operations Officer was appointed as a Permanent Secretary for the government the second week I started the job, giving only two days notice (on the weekend) before beginning in his new position. Consequently, I've assumed his responsibilities along with my previous responsibilities as Client & Marketing Manager. Unfortunately, I've kept my same title even though I feel like I'm doing more glamorous work nowadays. But, what's in a title anyway?

I really love my job. I think the company I work for is doing an amazing thing: bringing technology and lots of jobs to the Gambian economy. It's an absolutely organic company and totally Gambian, boasting clients within all sectors of the economy (government, parastatal, non-government, private). The offices are located in Fajara, right off the beach in a beautiful building. The company was started by a Gambian that went to school in the US, had incredible success in technology in the states and then returned to begin this new venture. I really respect his mission and don't mind working as much as I am to help fulfill it.

The only problem is that the company is located in Fajara, which is about 1 - 1.5 hours away from Jambanjelly. That, obviously, reflects a pretty long commute on a daily basis and it has put a bit of a strain on my relationship with the boyfriend. But, my company will soon be providing me with a gorgeous studio apartment less than 5 minutes away from the office. Check it out at: oceanviewgambia.com. I think that things will get better when we move there. Modou (my boyfriend) is going to be starting to attend school in The Gambia to get his high school equivalency certificate.

As you can see, life has been more than crazy these days. I've been dealing with more than about 200 changes on a weekly basis, but I love that I'm young and agile and able to adjust without too much difficulty!

So, as far as the title of this post...

I was sent on a business trip to Nigeria last weekend to attend a Microsoft conference because my company is a Microsoft Certified Partner. We booked the tickets through a travel agent and I assumed that all was fine-and-dandy. I was traveling with the CEO of the company. Imagine my surprise when I was going through Immigration in Nigeria and was informed that I needed a visa to enter the country. I just assumed that I would be able to enter on a temporary visa with my American passport, especially because neither the travel agent nor the airline itself said anything to be about a visa requirement.

Event when I was informed that I needed a visa to enter, I assumed that there would be a way for me to counteract the system through good ol' African-style bribery.

But, you know what they say happens when you assume....

I was not allowed to enter Nigeria at all, not even to stay at a hotel until my arrangements to leave the country could be completed. I spent the entire night in the freezing airport terminal under watch by Immigration along with my boss. The airline's customer services were atrocious and it took the entire day to get me on a plane to Dakar where I stayed the night and caught the first flight back to Gambia.

It felt so strange to be detained. I never realized how much of that American arrogance I carried around with me. Just assuming that I wouldn't need a visa shows how deeply that arrogance runs. Being on watch was so weird. I was unable to hold my own passport and had to leave collateral with the immigration office to be allowed to wait in the transit room. Fortunately, the Nigerian Immigration department did not have detention cells, so I was able to wait in the transit area or in the Immigration office after the CEO left for the conference. The whole experience confirmed for me that I'm not fit for a life of crime... I would never want to experience what a real prison feels like.

Before I left for Nigeria, I thought it was so glamorous that I was being sent abroad on a work trip. Little did I know that it would be an absolute nightmare. I guess I learned that lesson the hardest way. I'll never trust someone to do a job for me that I should do myself.

Luckily, I emerged unscathed with yet another life lesson under my belt and no other harm done. But, I think I'll just stay in little Gambia for the time being. I really don't like having to ask an immigration officer if I can use the toilet.