4/15/06

Chad, our PCMO (Medical Officer) arrives first thing in the morning.   He stayed in Maroua the night before, and shows up around 9:00- Brownie quickly schedules an impromptu conference/update for 10:00, after he gets settled.   We gather in the hotel conference room, which looks like an oversized, air-conditioned grass hut.   Chad, wearing a white linen shirt and jeans, and looking far more harrowed and stressed than I've ever seen him, begins to speak.

"OK guys, let me see if I can give you an update on what's happening.   As you all know, the rebels moved into N'Djamena two days ago.   All of the embassy staffers were evacuated to the American school compound.   I was at home when everything started, and we were hearing artillery, bombs, machine guns, and more."   A small smile sneaks across his face.   "Jaylyn," he says, referring to his four-and-a-half year old daughter "was so great.   She came into my room and said, 'Daddy, are those rebels causing trouble again?'"   This brings a laugh to the beleaguered faces around the table.

"I've talked to the staff in N'Djamena, and they're all OK, he continues.   "Every one of them though described seeing dead bodies all over the city though.   Yanda," Chad continues haltingly, referring to our IT specialist, "told me about a car surrounded by kids that had been blown up- they aren't sure who did it, but it looks like at least 20-25 kids were killed."   As he says this, he puts his head in his hands, and when he comes up, tears are streaming down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he says in a thick voice, "I haven't had a chance to cry or begin to deal with any of this."

If there's one thing our group of 29 semi-dysfunctional PCV's can agree on at the moment, it's that Chad has no reason to apologize for anything- we all feel the same way.

Chad composes himself, and he, Danielle, and Brownie give us as much of an update as they can.   Peace Corps has chartered a plane for us, and we'll be leaving Garoua tomorrow morning for Yaoundé.   That's it, it's official- we're not returning to Chad.   They'd told us that if we go to Yaoundé, it's finished.   The situation doesn't look to be getting any better, so I suppose it's understandable, but the logical explanation doesn't make it any easier to accept emotionally.   We all knew that this could happen, that would have to leave if things got bad; in what feels like another life, we joked about it: "Hey, the rumor is the president has only three months to live."   "All right!   Going home in three months!"

...And so on.   Somehow the jokes seem a lot less funny now.

So for the moment, we wait- tomorrow, the adventure continues.

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