Change of Heart

Chapter One: Re-Assignment

It was sweltering, hot dry heat that woke her up. Hotter than the day before, which Jacks was certain was the hottest day she could live through. It was 7 in the morning, the sun had only just begun to set the sky ablaze. She sighed and looked up, up into the round canopy her mosquito net created around her bed. It was going to be a long day.

Her feet hit the warm wooden floor of the house she lived in. She had been in Africa for a year and a half. It felt like home now. When she told her mother she was going to work on a project in Guinea she immediately started calling their relatives in Egypt, as if Jacks would be able to shoot right over there sometime and have a visit. Her father simply grumbled about why her work never sent her to Cuba, and why she showed no interest in that side of her family. She smiled to herself at the thought of them; her parents were the musical and artistic type, they hardly understood what working for UNICEF was like.

It was hard, absolutely no joke, and although she down played the risks and dangers involved whenever she spoke to the people who cared for her about her work, she knew the reality of it. This kind of work was a choice, not at all for the faint of heart and not at all to be taken lightly. Despite the fact that she was not always secure, she loved her work, and knew that having the UNICEF emblem on her meant she was as safe as she possibly could be.

She made her way into the small bathroom or the tiny hut like cottage house she shared with her boss and coworkers of UNICEF US. She was the first one up, and she grinned to herself, the others would have to boil their water this morning, she would get the first and only hot running water that day. She tried to be quick and perhaps save the water, in all honesty it was already too hot to be in under the hot spray for very long. The sounds of Guinea could be heard out of the window, these people rose early to start their day. They moved all day long, on every mode of transportation possible, cars, bikes, scooters, foot, donkey, occasionally horse, even a rare camel. She liked to stand in the door way and watch everyone pass while she waited for the others to get ready in the morning. Everyone waved. Everyone smiled. No one tried to sell her anything. It was the opposite of New York. She could take or leave the arid atmosphere of the place, but the warmth of the people was something she would miss when the time came for her to move on to the next project in the next country, whereever it was.

This project was however taking a toll on her. It didn’t matter how nice people were, it did not change the reality of life. They had very little government, hardly any street lights, and for that matter hardly any organized streets. Electricity was scarce and scattered, the idea of city planning was a completely foreign concept, as was proper plumbing and sewage systems, and none of this was anything UNICEF could address. Not that they had nothing to do. Malaria was rampant, bested only by malnutrition, meanwhile the children who managed to remain healthy had to ward off those who would make them child soldiers, while they toiled on farms in desperate need of education and skill training. She had been working at a school for the past few weeks. She had worked with malnourished infants in a hospital for many months before that. This was a welcome change.

She dressed for the day in a white UNICEF tank top and a pair of blue jeans which fit loosely on her legs, were well worn and light weight and which she could cuff to let her ankles breathe. The idea of wearing flip flops was tempting but completely stupid. Shoes were required for this job, proper shoes. She slid on a pair of Tom’s and quickly pulled her hair into a top knot. She could not bear or bother with makeup, all she wore in Africa was sunscreen and chap stick…and mosquito repellant. Lots and lots of mosquito repellant; she had seen plenty of others come down with malaria, she intended to avoid it at all costs.

She walked out across the common room, into the kitchen, which was really just a corner with a stove and mercifully a sink. She heard the UNICEF UK house only had a sink in the bathroom, for everything else they had to walk 15 minutes to the nearest sanitary well to get water. She thanked God she was an American every morning when she saw that simple luxury hanging from the wall.  She filled a large pot with water and placed it on the stove to boil, feeling a bit guilty about grabbing the first shower and the best hot water. The front door opened and in walked Tania. Tania was silver haired and beautifully pale. She never left the house without a huge sun hat, she always wore a maxi dress beneath her UNICEF shirts. She was the project coordinator, and she looked a bit weary, but genuinely happy to see Jacks up and about.

“Good Morning New Girl.”

“Good Morning, Tania. I’ve been here for over a year, I’m not new anymore.”

“You were never really new. You came in knocking this stuff out of the park from day one. But you are the only new team member I got last year, so until I get a new one, you’re the New Girl.”

Jack’s smiled and leaned against the wall.

"It’s hot today.”

“It sure is…Jacks,” She was cutting right to the chase as usual, “our friend from UNICEF UK, Julien, has a group of people coming for about a week, but their project assistant is ill. Julien won’t say that it’s malaria but…it’s malaria.” Jacks’ ears perked up, she knew she was about to reassigned. “Would you mind terribly going with him for the week, helping him show these people the ropes?”

“What about the school?”

“They can make it without you for a week. In all honesty, I only put you there to give you a short break from the hospital….These people are only coming to write some reports on what UNICEF UK is working on here and hopefully raise some awareness, and more importantly money for the cause. One of them is a celebrity, of course.”

“Well that’s good, celebrities get people to give."

“That’s the spirit. So, then, you’ll go?”

“Of course.”

“Wonderful. Julien’s flying in with them from Paris: you’re going to meet the group at the airport. You’ll need a week’s worth of clothes and of course take your passport; you’ll be traveling the whole country during their visit.

“Sounds fun…I guess I’ll go pack.”