Juba Hash

What’s there to do on a weekend in Juba? Quite a lot actually, as it turns out. I haven’t developed much of a weekend pattern yet – but the one thing that does tend to stay pretty regular is Hash on Saturday evenings. (For those of you who’ve never heard of Hash before: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hash_House_Harriers) Although I’d never been to one, I had heard of Hash before coming to Juba, but I still didn’t really know what to expect when I joined a group of my coworkers for the weekly walk/run on my 4th day in Juba. Looking back on it, that first Hash was actually a bit of a mess … the trail wasn’t very clearly marked (and being a newbie I didn’t really know what I was supposed to be following anyway) and we almost lost one of my coworkers … but I’d still had enough fun to know I’d be coming back for the next one. A couple of weeks after that first Hash, I found myself “haring” (i.e. setting) the running trail (the GM must have somehow known that I hardly ever say no when he volunteered me for the job). I had, at least, had the foresight to name a condition when agreeing – that a veteran hasher co-hare with me. And that’s how, one Saturday about a month after arriving in Juba, I found myself scattering flour on the roads of Juba in the company of a true Hash veteran – a kind, older man who’d done his fair share of Hashing during his 40+ years of working in Africa. And that’s also how, after we’d finished setting the trail, I found myself nursing a water at the bar with my co-hare and the walking hare (who was also a couple decades my senior). Both men were what you might call “bush men” – Westerners who’d been living and working in the African for most of their lives – and to their credit, they did try to include me in the conversation when we first sat down. We had quite a bit of time to kill before the other Hashers started showing up though, and soon enough the conversation turned to (for them) more interesting subjects: namely, generators and cars and all things mechanical (and how much better they were back when …) As I started to zone out, all I could think to myself was “man, Dad & Grandpa would love these guys!” :-D

This past weekend, I found myself haring again – this time on my own volition and with a co-hare who’s a friend. We’d offered to both host and hare the Hash, so my friend and I had been exploring trail options all week during our lunch hour. We were pretty pleased with what we ended up with … it started by running through the “river” (really, more of a refuse pit) by the office, then wound through town and past houses of excited kids who came out to give us all high fives. After that, a right turn along the road past the goat market and a left turn through what turned out to be a cow market (it hadn’t been there during the week, but in retrospect that does explain all the manure). A little farther down the way, the path opened up and led right to a scenic view of the Nile River, complete with carwash (literally, the cars had been driven into the river and were being given a scrub down) and bathing kids. After that, we wove around behind the Juba Stadium, ran back along the road for a bit, and then through a labyrinth of tukuls and huts before approaching our starting point from the opposite direction. All in all, a solid trail. The only downsides: my co-hare woke up with a crick in her neck that kept her from turning it to the left and my stomach decided to time its revolt against whatever I’d eaten the night before such that it coincided with the run … but still, fun was had by most (if not all)!

Winter

I have the background of my Gmail set so that it synchs to the weather at home. Today it looks like this:

A little bit jarring to see when it’s sunny outside and getting hotter every day. Technically, it’s winter here, too, in Sudan – just not the kind of winter that I grew up with … and that suits me fine!

An Unwelcome Hitchhiker

First of all, let me apologize for being such a stranger lately. The past couple of months have been busy and between adjusting to a new job in a new country and getting to know new people, the blog somehow kept getting pushed farther down my to-do list. A longer post will be coming soon, but to give you all the very abridged version of events: I'm now working in Southern Sudan and have spent the past month "in the field."

This particular field site - Ganyliel - is a bit more swamp than field, which means it's more isolated than our other sites, but it's certainly been an interesting month and is an absolutely beautiful area (with some truly amazing birdlife). Luckily for me I arrived at the tail end of the rainy season, so I have been able to get around a bit and have also gotten to play Pied Piper to troops of giggling kids on my evening runs. Ganyliel isn't very big (even saying that is a bit of an overstatement!) so there's really only one option for a running route: down the airstrip to where the ground starts to turn marshy and then back again. It's not a particularly exciting route, but it is a fun way to get some exercise while entertaining all the people I pass along the way ... a win-win for everyone :-)

Or at least it was ... until Tuesday.  Tuesday, I went for my normal run with a few stretches and crunches thrown in at the end. Then I went to take a shower, took off my tank top and, well, take a look below to see what I found hanging to the INSIDE of my shirt.

That's right.  A bat!!!!!  (To answer the inevitable questions - yes, I have gotten the rabies vaccine and no, I don't have any idea how I managed to not notice that there was a small furry mammal hitching a ride in my clothing!)

Pilanesberg National Park - Photo Album

Victoria Falls - Photo Album

On the Road (Dar to Joburg) - Photo Album

Adventures with Jeff, Part 4

As is perhaps fitting, our time in Johannesburg was pretty evenly divided: it seemed like we were either spending time with great people and visiting beautiful sites OR we were trying out different combinations of getting lost, having car trouble, and narrowly avoiding death. I said “perhaps fitting” because all the South Africans I’ve met have been lovely people and their country is certainly impressive, but Joburg does have a bit of a reputation for crime and car jackings and violence and the like. In our case however, the car trouble was just that (car trouble, not car jacking) and had the near death encounters actually happened, they would have only involved animals ... or Jeff throttling me for being an overly anxious backseat driver :-P

Looking back, the trip from the airport to my friend’s apartment could have been quite a bit worse. Yes, we got pretty thoroughly lost a couple of times; and yes, the clutch on the rental car was rather finicky so we did manage to irritate quite a few impatient drivers at quite a few intersections and stoplights; and no, a 6-lane highway was not exactly the most ideal place for Jeff to have to adjust to driving on the opposite side of the road, BUT we did finally make it to the apartment (with the driver, passenger, and car intact) ... and weren’t even late for dinner! So, not the best first couple of hours ... but also not the worst. Being at the apartment, on the other hand, was unequivocally great. Not only was the apartment really comfortable, but it was really, really nice to get to see my friend and to meet her friends (who were actually the ones who lived in the apartment – they were generous enough to put up with 3 people crashing at their place at the same time).

The next day started off well – we drove my friend to her office and then stopped at a grocery store to put together a picnic lunch ... all without getting lost & only stalling out a handful of times! The not-getting-lost lucky streak ended there though – we got lost on our way to Maropeng (the visitors’ centre for the Cradle of Humankind) and on our way from there to the Sterkfontein Caves. We had a good time at both sites though – they were very well maintained and really interesting to learn about. After doing the tourist thing all afternoon, we headed back to the apartment for another fun evening – cooking dinner for our hosts, then “teach me to drive stick in the mall parking lot” class (more fun for me than for Jeff, I think!), then out to a neighborhood bar for a bit with the 3 girls before turning in for the night.

Bright and early the next morning, we were off again. This time, it was Jeff, my friend, and me, and we were on the road at 5am, hoping to reach Pilanesberg National Park by 7 or 8. Five hours (and several nonexistent and/or thoroughly misleading road signs) later, we finally made it to the park. And let me just say this upfront: in spite of those extra 3 hours on the road and in spite of everything that was going to happen later that day, it was definitely worth it. The park, which sits in the crater of an extinct volcano, was beautiful – full of wildlife and amazing views and pleasantly accessible (you could drive your own car through instead of having to go through a company or with a guide). The downside of that kind of accessibility, however, is that when your car breaks down in the middle of the reserve, hours away from a cell phone tower, you aren’t left with very many options. When plan A (trying to push the car to the closest intersection) failed, we moved on to considering plan B (leaving the car and hiking out). Thankfully, that plan got scrapped when we spotted a passing car and managed to hitch a ride to the visitors’ center (passing several rhinos, a number of other large animals, and (we were told later by a park ranger) a lion along the way ... not exactly ideal hiking companions!) By the time we eventually made it out of the park, we were so desperate to get back to Joburg that Jeff agreed to sit in the trunk of a shuttle that only had two empty passenger seats! That shuttle took us to the airport, where we picked up another rental car and then put the proverbial icing on the cake of a very long day by getting lost once again on the way back to the apartment.

Our last day in Joburg was comparatively tame – we drove my friend to her office again, went back to the apartment to pack our bags, hardly got lost at all on the way to the airport, and made it through customs & security with plenty of time to spare. It was a great trip – more adventures that I’d even hoped for - and while I was sorry it was ending, after a year abroad I was also more than ready to come home :-)

Adventures with Jeff, Part 3

My pictures don’t even begin to do the Zambian side of the falls justice, but suffice to say Victoria Falls were STUNNING!

Next up, South Africa!

Adventures with Jeff, Part 2

Dar es Salaam was pretty much the same as always – hot, chock full of people & cars, noisy, lively, and (in its own way) lovely. Dar never gets old for me – as hectic as it is, I still think it’s a great city ... and it was especially fun to get a chance to show Jeff around. Granted, when I say “show Jeff around,” I really mean “drag Jeff around on all the errands I had to run.” Apart from the errands, we did manage to have some fun though – we caught the tail end of the July 4^th fireworks show at the embassy (where I was reminded once again of how small the world is ... not only did we meet up (as planned) with the Princeton in Dar crew, but we also met from students from Carnegie Mellon University AND ran into my good friend from the first Princeton in Dar session back in 2007!)

After several days of running errands, meeting up with friends, tying up loose ends at the office, and sitting in some truly horrendous traffic, we were off! Or at least, we thought we were off (notice a pattern???) ... TAZARA had other plans for us – plans we didn’t discover until we arrived at the train station Tuesday afternoon. A 24 hour delay was (as they say in TZ) a bit of a spanner in the works, but after a year of traveling around East Africa, they would have had to throw the entire toolbox into the works before I ran out of backup plans :-) In this case, our luck held and the train actually did leave the next day (and more or less on time, too!) So Wednesday afternoon found us rather comfortably settled into our own little compartment, armed with a small traveler’s arsenal of books, toilet paper, and canned vegetable curry. The 24 hour delay notwithstanding, the TAZARA train turned out to be a pretty neat way to travel. The train itself was a little worse for the wear (the days when its faucets actually dispensed water were certainly loooooong gone), but it was pretty comfortable, the scenery was beautiful, and we had lots of fun getting to know some of our fellow passengers.

A quick two days later, we disembarked at Kapiri Mposhi, Zambia and were pleasantly surprised to discover that the train to Livingstone was due to leave in just a few hours. In other words, the delayed departure had actually worked in our favor – we left Dar 24 hours late but still ended up getting to Livingstone on schedule (or we would have made it on time if the train hadn’t broken down for several hours in Choma ... close enough to being on schedule per African time, though!) This second train wasn’t nearly as nice as the first – no compartments, no bunks, no blankets, and not nearly as much speed. In fact, we found out later that we’d opted for a 30+ hour train ride over a 9 hour bus ride! Still, the scenery was great, and we were in good company (two guys we’d met on the TAZARA train ended up joining us, so we had quite the little traveling gang).

Next up, Victoria Falls!

Pictures (from top): the TAZARA train making its way through a mountain range in Southeastern Tanzania; goofing around with Nuru & Emmi (2 little girls from the neighboring compartment); the view from the TAZARA train; sunset from the Zambian Railways train

Adventures with Jeff, Part 1

So far, Tanzania’s been pulling out all the stops for Jeff and treating him to an utterly Tanzanian experience. And by that I mean, everything’s beautiful, everyone’s friendly and welcoming, and next to nothing’s running on time. He arrived in Dar early Monday afternoon, a little worried about clearing customs and finding/making his connecting flight, only to discover the flight had been delayed ... and was going to be delayed several more times before finally leaving much, much later that evening. With a little help from someone he met on the plane though, he found a place to stay in Mwanza and managed to find a helpful taxi driver early the next morning who brought him to the bus terminal. Several extremely bumpy hours later, he’d finally made it to Kibondo and – with the help of a couple more strangers – managed to track me down.

Two days later (and only a couple of hours behind schedule), he was on the road again – this time with me (and by car). We were heading to Kigoma ... or at least we were trying to head to Kigoma. The car, it turned out, had other plans ... plans that involved waiting until we were in an area with absolutely no cell phone signal to break down. As frustrating as that was, it did have the upside of providing me with the best visual of the trip so far: Jeff, surrounded by a gang of barefoot kids, all leaning into the front bumper of the car and framed by the open hood, trying to push the car backwards up a hill (in the hopes that the car would get enough forward momentum on the way back down to suddenly start). It wasn’t until quite a bit later that evening that our driver got the car working again, so we turned back around and spent the night in Kasulu.

Equipped with a different car, we finally made it to Kigoma the next morning. A lazy day at the beach followed by a nice dinner and drinks at the Mwaka Hill Hotel, and it started to really feel like vacation :-)

(Above: Jeff, at Jakobsen's Beach in Kigoma)

Next stop: Dar es Salaam!

A Glimpse of the Moyowosi

Living in Kibondo, one of the things I often forget is that a huge portion of the district (and the neighboring district) is actually the Moyowosi Game Reserve. I realize this probably seems like a rather substantial thing to forget, but since it isn’t a national park (and therefore not open to the general public), it’s easier to forget about than you might think. Granted, I’ve gotten to know a couple of the guys who work in the reserve, so on some level I always knew it was there ... in practice though, all I ever really got to see of it was the tree line that marked the boundary between the reserve and non-restricted areas. On my last weekend in Kibondo, however, all that changed.

My friends from the reserve brought me out to one of their open area camps on Saturday and after spending the night out under the upside down sky, I woke up before dawn to go flying with one of the pilots. Part of me still can’t really believe this happened ... partially because it was just such an amazing opportunity ... and also because it meant that this contraption actually flies (when it's airborne it kind of looks like a winged version of ET's bicycle)! The guys had told me the microlight was small but none of them had explained that it was essentially a set of seats with wings! AND ... as if just getting to go up in the microlight wasn’t cool enough on its own, we saw a bunch of animals as we were flying over the reserve: hippo, rowan, topi, all sorts of birds, and two groups of elephants (one with a baby!)!!! The reserve is also home to a whole slew of other animals that weren’t out and about in the areas we flew over – giraffe, lion, leopard, buffalo, alligators, etc. – but I was just thrilled to discover that my neighbors in Kibondo have included a couple families of elephants!

Of all the weekends I spent in Kibondo this year, this one undoubtedly ranked as one of the most fun and memorable - a truly unique experience that has left me with a renewed appreciation for the stunning and diverse environment that I've been lucky enough to call home this year.

(Picture 1: sunrise over the Moyowosi; Picture 2: the microlight; Picture 3: view from the backseat as we prepared to land)

World Refugee Day

At the end of 2008, more than 42 million people around the world had been forced to flee their homes, the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) said on 20 June to mark World Refugee Day.

Those that were uprooted to other areas within their own countries are known as internally displaced people (IDPs). They are classified as refugees only once they cross an international border.

According to UNHCR’s annual Global Trends report, released on 16 June, there were around 16 million refugees and 26 million IDPs in the world at the end of 2008.

UNHCR says that the number of IDPs is growing faster than the number of refugees because of the changing nature of conflict; the majority of conflicts today are within individual countries and less between nations.

While the UN agency’s mandate is to “lead and co-ordinate international action to protect refugees and resolve refugee problems worldwide”, in recent years it has been increasingly tasked under the UN’s humanitarian reform process with assisting IDPs. Since 2005, the number of IDPs UNHCR provides services for has doubled.

"Being forced from your home by conflict or persecution is a tragedy whether you've crossed an international border or not," UN High Commissioner for Refugees António Guterres said. "Today, we are seeing a relentless series of internal conflicts that are generating millions of uprooted people.”

Guterres said this year's crises in Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Somalia are pushing the number of people forced to flee their homes towards the 45 million mark - the highest number in at least a decade.

Countries with more than 1 million IDPs

Colombia: 3 million
Iraq: 2.6 million
Pakistan: 2.5 million
Sudan: 2 million
DRC: 1.5 million
Congo: 1.3 million
Uganda: 1.2 million

Major refugee-hosting countries in 2008

Pakistan: 1.8 million
Syria: 1.1 million
Iran: 980,000
Germany: 582,700
Jordan: 500,400
Chad: 330,500
Tanzania: 321,900
Kenya: 320,600

Source: UNHCR, with links to IRIN reports
http://www.irinnews.org/report.aspx?ReportID=84929

... And Moving Forward

As fond as I’ve become of Kibondo and as much as I’m sure I’ll miss Tanzania, I have to admit that I’ve been getting pretty excited about what comes next …

First, a close friend from Princeton’s coming to visit me! He’ll be arriving in Kibondo in exactly 12 days and then a day or two after that, we’ll start heading back to the States. Start is the operative word there since I decided to opt for the scenic route when planning my exit strategy awhile back, so we’ll go from Kibondo to Kigoma (with a quick day trip to Gombe to see Jane Goodhall’s chimps) to Dar … and then by plane, train, and/or automobile down through Zambia, past Victoria Falls, and into South Africa. There will be tons of pictures, I promise!

Second, I’m coming home!!! My flight arrives in New York on July 17, and I’ll be spending the following month spending as much time as I can catching up with everybody and reveling in the joys of paved roads, 24/7 electricity, and fast internet connections :-D

Third, I’ll be starting another Princeton in Africa fellowship in late August – this time in Southern Sudan. I’ll be based out of Juba and am absolutely thrilled that I’ve been given this opportunity. After spending a year working with a project that is gradually closing down, I’m really looking forward to being on the opposite end of things and discovering all the challenges and issues that come into play when a program is expanding. Plus, this means that I’ll get to visit parts of Africa that I haven’t been to yet – in other words, lots more fodder for the blog :-)

Looking Back ...

I was walking home from work the other day, when a passing car left me futilely waving away a cloud of reddish grit and thinking to myself “I can’t believe I’ve been here long enough for it to get dusty again!” It’s more than a little hard for me to believe, but in another week or so I’ll have been here for a year. Looking back, perhaps it shouldn’t be all that surprising – after all, not only have I been here long enough for it to get dusty, rainy (really rainy!), and dusty again, but I’ve also been here long enough to become fluent in NGO-acronym-ese, master the art of cooking pancakes ... outside ... over a charcoal “stove,” and travel around Burundi, Egypt, Kenya, Rwanda, South Africa, Tanzania/Zanzibar, and Uganda.

More than anything, I have been here long enough to be able to begin to appreciate how eye-opening this past year has been for me – how my experiences here have shaped the ways I think about myself, about my future, and about my place in the world. On a very personal level, this year has given me a taste of what it’s like to live with only yourself and a shelf or two of books for company. Adjusting to life without friends, family, or a campus full of students with backgrounds similar to mine turned out to be a significantly harder adjustment to make than transitioning from the 1st world to the 3rd. All in all though, I would say that it was a worthwhile adjustment to go through – not only because I learned how live alone and with relatively few distractions, but also because it has given me a renewed appreciation for good company and conversation. My time here has also sparked what I believe will be a lifelong interest in sustainable development and humanitarian relief efforts, although I suppose only time will tell whether or not that will be the case.

On a more general level, the most jarring element of my year here has been the constant stream of reminders that I have been living in the midst of poverty. For most Americans, growing up in the States usually means growing up believing that with hard work, anything is possible. For all that part of me knew that this wasn’t universally true, it took moving to Tanzania for me to realize just how privileged an attitude it was. Living here, it is impossible to deny or ignore the fact that while the “hard work pays off” mantra might hold true for the majority of the developed world, it is the exception – not the norm – throughout the majority of the developing world. In countries like Tanzania – and especially in underdeveloped areas like Kibondo – crippling poverty (compounded by lack of or limited access to clean water, affordable health care, basic infrastructure, and adequate educational facilities) is the norm. And while the country is slowly strengthening the economy, extending social service infrastructure, and developing a middle class – and while organizations like TCRS are doing what they can wherever they can – it is a slow process ... and in the meantime I walk to and from work everyday shadowed by small children whose kwashiorkor bellies and tattered clothing is all the proof one needs of the vicious cycle of poverty that they and their families are trapped inside of.

Egypt!

Egypt!

Egypt - the Lisa version :-D

Now that you've gotten my version of events, I thought I'd let you read Lisa's as well (taken from 2 emails she sent out during/after my visit). Enjoy!
-K

I haven’t actually disappeared- my friend from University, Kate, has been visiting. She currently works for a NGO that works with refugees on the Burundi-Tanzania border and as the camps are shutting down, fuel supplies are so low that they have instituted mandatory lunch hour at her compound so they can shut the power off and conserve fuel supplies. So basically, all I have to do is provide a consistent electric current and she’s impressed. But after the vacation from hell that Sundae and Kenzie had in Cairo (sorry again guys) everyone with whom I am even vaguely acquainted has made it their mission to ensure that Kate’s visit is a success.

Kate’s flight came in at 1:30 in the morning, and ever since I showed up at the airport on the wrong day to greet Sundae and Kenzie, Abir & co. have judged me incompetent and clearly incapable of wandering off in the direction of the airport unattended. So I showed up at the airport with not one, but two Mohamed Hussein Mohameds in tow. I know the naming combinations are fairly limited, but the probability of such an event has to be quite small. Then they had the nerve to complain that it was difficult what with my friend’s name being Kate and my roommate’s name Katie. I just glared at them. Kate arrived carrying amazingly local luggage- the sort of plaid plastic tarp bags with a zipper- guaranteed to fall apart after a couple of uses (if you’re lucky) and we were then delivered safely to our apartment which had electricity, so already the visit was off to a good start.

Day 1- I decided that instead of gradually reintegrating Kate into modern civilization, we should just plunge her right in, and we went to City Stars, the six story mall that stretches across two towers and contains three movie theaters, the normal one, the deluxe one, and the VIP theater and chains like TGIFridays and Chili’s. We had a fantastic lunch at PizzaCreme, which has taken the pizza slice and turned it into a pizza cone to make it more portable. It really does look like an ice cream cone, but tastes surprisingly like a real pizzaو and while I am not sure it lives up to the billing on the menu that claims you can swim while eating it, it is very portable. Kate then got to play in the hypermarket in the basement (the extra large version of a super market) and we purchased some snacks that we could then smuggle into the movies in our purses. Next on the schedule was the VIP cinema, to see Push while reclining in large extra comfy leather lazy boy style recliners. I managed to persuade my chair to lean back using an unorthodox method, as I could not locate the lever. My arms are too short. Kate was kind enough to point it out at the end of the feature presentation. You can also order food and it will be served recliner side at your own little table, but we had already come prepared with the aforementioned snacks. It was absolutely ridiculous, but necessary
to try once.

Day 2- Kate managed to impress with her bread making talent. She would go to the countryside in Africa and learn how to cook. By then it was too late to go to the American embassy, which closes its doors at eleven am (possibly in an effort to keep the stereotypically late sleeping Egyptian from applying for visas, but then again, perhaps I’m developing the local flare for conspiracy theories) so we did the next best thing and went to book stores. Abdu stopped by to be introduced to Kate after he finished his English course, which is conveniently located on our island (yes, I have claimed it). She declared that I had broken Abdu as well after I told her the Abdu and the desert story, which I shall now relate to all of you. He called me up at quarter to midnight one night (which fortunately, I have adjusted to Egyptian Standard time enough to at least stay up til that hour on weekends, and asked if I could come down and talk to him in the street. He would be there in five minutes. He sounded distressed and told me he had a problem so I agreed to meet him. It was actually comical in the poor Abdu sort of way, because he and his two guy friends had managed to offend some American girls and they had no idea why. I mean they were absolutely befuddled. The American girls had told Abdu and his friends that they wanted to go drinking, so the Egyptian boys, wanting to impress the girls, purchased the alcohol and then took the girls, I kid you not, out to the edge of the desert to drink because it has a really nice view. The American girls, who had only been in Egypt for a few weeks, and had probably been warned a million times not to become the next Natalie Holloways, started freaking out immediately and demanded that Abdu and friends take them to a party in Zamalek (our island again). Abdu knew they were angry and couldn’t figure out why so, as I’m the closest thing to a big sister he has, he had called me up for advice. The boys thought that they were pleasantly surprising the girls by taking them to such a pretty place, oblivious to the kidnapping potential desert vistas afford. I gave Abdu advice on how to remedy the situation, including a very detailed set of instructions on how to apologize to an American girl (to sum up “you are wrong, even when she is, and there are no buts in an apology”) He seems to have taken the advice to heart and after only a fifteen minute conversation with him, Kate declared him a broken Egyptian, but a fixed man, and decided I should set up my own NGO, or even tuition charging school, as I tend to leave a trail of hopelessly well-mannered men in my wake. The evening ended at the Rotana café which is located on a river boat on the Nile and the theme is Rotana cable channels, which has a channel for classic films, modern films, and music videos. So the whole evening I caught glimpses of some truly awesome outfits from the fifties on the black and white channel, there was Jacque O hair and a smoking jacket. The main female characters also started belly dancing on a bus at one point, which given the general state of Egyptian roads and traffic is truly an impressive feat.

Day 3- We went to the US embassy because Kate needed more pages in her passport or she would not be able to get back into Tanzania after her vacation, and not only was there no line, but all the employees spoke English. That never, ever happens. Everyone in our program has long since given up seeking help at the embassy because it proves to be nothing but an exercise in frustration, and calling Abir is so much simpler and more efficient to boot. But Kate leads a charmed life. The front desk lady did confiscate my mace for the duration of the visit- top notch security USA. I bet they would stop people if the metal detector went off, too! Afterwards we walked downtown for the one Egyptian food everyone is guaranteed to like, koshari, which is just pasta, lentils, tomato sauce, and fried onions, and I have found that everyone who doesn’t have an allergy to one of the above enjoys that particular dish.

Day 4- Yet another set of English speaking employees at the US embassy when we went to fetch Kate’s passport. I began doing quick calculations in my head to assess the odds that the apocalypse was upon us. Then we went to the Aladdin market (my name for it, not theirs) to purchase some scarves. I managed to pick one (and by that I mean Kate found it. YAY personal shoppers) that has pink and black in it (we’ll consider it a concession to Kenzie and her staid business clothing) and we found a couple of others for presents at the same place. When it came time to bargain, the man tried to swear to me that he was giving me the best price on the first of the three scarves we were buying and I informed him that, no, they were selling the same scarf for two thirds that price at another shop. He said that was not possible, and I gave him directions to the other store (completely wrong directions as I had since forgotten the way, but he was convinced by my confident reply) and gave me the reduced price, then before he would even quote me a price on the second scarf he asked warily if I knew the price for that too. I got more offers of marriage or “Egyptian boyfriend” than on any prior occasion, and I think that this can be attributed to my awesome outfit which consisted of a hot pink tank top layered over a bright yellow one, layered over a bright blue one and topped off with a white cardigan. It was truly amazing. It also paid off later as the word went before us that we spoke Arabic, and between that and the Egyptian get up, this one merchant actually led off with the Egyptian price. Kate had been shopping for a thick shawl/blanket, and all the merchants had been starting at 150. This guy began with 55. We both registered expressions of extreme shock on our faces, which he interpreted as dismay and he quickly apologized but said it was the fair Egyptian price. I had to explain that that was why we were surprised. We of course bought from him. Then it was off to home to prepare some chocolate heart-shaped cupcakes for birthday lunch at Abir’s. I had fortunately given Kate a quick character sketch of Selma (the hilarious and somehow domineering six year old) and Abir, and Kate had already met Abdu, but nothing really prepares one for a visit with Abir’s family. We got out of the cab and were walking down the street when this little blur came flying at us and Kate said she looked over and thought, “wow, there’s a child attached to Lisa.” Selma had been on the way to the hair dresser to get her hair straightened because apparently she loves my hair so much, and had discovered us en route. She demanded I then carry her to the coiffure and I only managed to escape and bring the present and food bags to Abir’s apartment after she extracted the promise that I would come back. Abir had managed to convince her husband to get in the kitchen and make one of the dishes for lunch (though she admitted she cooked the rest of it) and then he and Abdu disappeared to purchase her present, leaving us to have girl talk, and Abir gave us a special lesson in awesome Arabic phrases such as “ I am going to elbow you,” and “I will take you to the morgue.” She was impressed that the words and phrases I had already taught Kate were along a similar vein, with the exception of Happy Birthday, which, of course, I taught her to use on Abir. Around nine o’clock we left, “lunch” having been concluded, and ran into a sleepy Selma on the street again, being carried home by Abdu after her four hour hair appointment. We then went home and used our new blender to make milkshakes (“milkchakes” in Egyptian colloquial) with just a touch of Baileys in them and turned in early, having been informed by our Egyptian friends that the party that night had been canceled.

12:30 am- The doorbell rings, and I realize the extent of my misunderstanding. The party may have been canceled, but Kate must have a good time, so they have determined they will entertain us anyway. After some quite speedy dressing we headed off to no less than four hours driving in the car. The first hour and a half was consumed looking for Hammoudi’s car, because he had forgotten where he parked it. Then they did not have a plan, so I suggested the pretty café on the edge of the desert that has the whole pillows and tents in the sand thing going, and we got most of the way there when two of the guys decided that they wanted to rent a felucca (the brightly lit obnoxious music blaring boats on the Nile) so we reversed and headed back the other direction. At this point, however, I demanded they stop and feed me. I have developed quite the reputation as the girl that needs to be fed every three hours. I am, as they put it, always eating or sleeping. It is a reputation of which I am quite proud. By the time we got to the boat place that is open “24 hours” the man who runs it was sleeping so that killed that plan and we ended up going to play billiards at a place that is actually 24 hours and has black glass windows, so you cannot tell the state of the sun outside, and we lost track of time, and walked out into broad daylight at six am. After Kate made me pancakes, it was time for bed and a busy day.

Day 5- The pyramids. I had previously secured Abdu’s promised to assist us at the pyramids as people begin pushing you around and trying to steer you away from the true ticket booth and into their perfume shops from hundreds of meters out. Fortunately, Abdu’s uncle is an officer at the pyramids and he was on duty that day, so not only were we absolutely not bothered, but we got in for free, it was amazing. And then on the way out, Abdu convinced the cops to allow the horse cart we were in to go the wrong way on a one way road so we could go back and thank his uncle. He’s truly VIP. They even change the traffic laws for him.

Then it came time for Egyptian dance party. A friend of one of our friends is close friends with the DJ at a really expensive dance club, so after the usual delays (the guy coming to pick us up getting into an accident, etc.) he convinced them to wave the cover so we got in free. Did I mention this club was on a boat? It was awesome. Kate got a lesson in hip wiggling and I was impressed to discover that my Egyptian dancing skills had somewhat improved. The DJ was good though, and by that I mean that he played things other than house music after three am, which is enough to win me over, as it’s a courageous decision to go against the norm. Plus he was the reason we got in free, so I was a little biased. This club also had the dark glass so when they raised the house lights and we filed out at closing time, we discovered it was once again six am. Poor Kate, I have determined that she is not to sleep on this vacation.

Day 6- Given that technically we were still dancing when day six rolled around, day six was spent mostly sleeping; it seems I can be merciful after all.

Day 7- Shahreena comes back tomorrow, and she is OCD about cleanliness, so I figured the polite thing to do would be to scrub, sweep and mop everything before she gets back tomorrow. But then I did my favorite thing to do to guests (my mother started this in August when she spontaneously started bleaching the bathtub), I impressed Kate into Cinderella service (though I must admit she went above and beyond and organized the fridge). Then by 3:30 we headed off to Egyptian lunch at the Yemeni restaurant. I have never ever seen any other women in this restaurant, but the food is so good I don’t care. When they have food that is. We walked in today and the man said “we have only salad” in Arabic. I asked him if he was sure, and he replied
that there was no meat until 5:30. Now not having meat and only having salad are two entirely different things, so I asked if they had fusulia, this pinto beans and tomato sauce dish which is the whole reason I go there and after a quick shouted argument in which one man declared they didn’t have it and the other one said they could bring it, the waiter decided we could in fact order fusulia and bread, even though neither of those was salad. This group of men sitting to our left had been there when we came in, and we had arrived at approximately 4:45 or so, and it turns out they were sitting there waiting for the meat. They must have been waiting over an hour. It’s so Egypt. Also one of the men at that table was wearing a side arm coupled with the most unabashedly hot pink tie I have ever seen in my life.

Upon examining our neater, and consequently significantly more empty looking, refrigerator this morning, Kate and I decided a trip to the grocery store was in order before breakfast could become a reality. So we traversed the entirely too lengthy distance of two blocks to the Alpha grocery store, and they had a live EASTER display (because Coptic Easter is a week behind, and was therefore yesterday). There were three incredibly adorable bunnies playing in the front window, eating carrots and lettuce and frolicking, but the sad reality is there will probably be a rabbit meat sale at metro this week. But they were soooo cute. And the store had a bunch of hard boiled eggs so you could dye one and then shop while it dried.

Then we had to go to the dorm and use the internet, and meet up with one of Kate’s friends from Princeton who has refused to be my friend. She sent him my email months ago, and he has not contacted me, so I have declared him a defective Woody Woo student because he fails at networking, and have labeled him beyond salvage. We met this boy today in the garden and I am slightly relieved now that he’s not my friend, because he is very down on Egypt, and it’s quite weird, because it seems he hasn’t earned the right to be down on Egypt yet so I’m sort of indignant on Cairo’s behalf (and mine too perhaps). He’s lived what Kate would call a version of Egypt-lite. Anyway, I tried to invite him to Abir’s festivities today, but he said no. Kate will defend him, he had homework. Psssh. He should come play!!!!

Why should he come play? Today, the day after Coptic Easter, is an Egyptian national holiday that roughly translates to “smelling the breezes.” It’s a sort of welcoming spring festival and basically means the streets are all empty because everyone goes picnicking at one of the many many clubs. Abir, well connected as always, invited us to the police officers club and instructed me to wear long clothes as a precaution. I still almost got married anyway, but it’s just such a common occurrence that I had forgotten about it by the time we got home and Kate had to remind me. Anyway, a friend of Abir’s brother was introduced to me through her eleven year old son Yusef, and then all the sudden questions started coming, and I fielded them all quite well, and we played bumper cars (Selma insisted on driving ours, but then would get scared when we were about to hit anything and let go of the wheel, so she commanded that I drive halfway through) What is it with men and trying to pick me up while playing bumper cars? That’s twice now in Egypt. Then we got to the “are your mother and father in Egypt?” question, but I discovered, in a flash of brilliance, an excellent way to shut that one down. “No, but you know Abir, your friend’s sister, well she’s like my mother here in Egypt and I never have any problems” After that he disappeared to go fraternize with his male friends. It was like magic. The picnic was entertaining. Ziad, Abir’s five year-old nephew who is incredibly adorable, and her daughter Selma were both there. I have determined that’s it’s the best of both world’s for everyone. I get invited to all sorts of Egyptian events (and this time I got to bring Kate along for the cultural festivities) and Abir and her sister get free babysitting so they can have some adult conversation. There was face painting (though we only ever saw spiderman so we think perhaps the artist only does one look), fried doughballs with honey, dancing, the occasional costumed figure of a television cartoon figure, and lots of families.

This is the weird part about the day. It is a family holiday, to be spent picnicking and celebrating, but many (though not all) of the men simply peaced out to hang out with their guy friends. Scanning most of the tables you would see the mothers, and younger teenage boys, but most everyone who considered himself a man had scampered off somewhere to bond in a masculine fashion or whatnot. Abir's husband had gone home early, and Abdu wasn't present at all as he had gone to Alexandria, (with his father's permission but not his mother's) though he did call to say goodbye to Kate and I mentioned I was currently with his mother and he did the sharp inhaling of breathe in dismay thing. Ziad's father just never showed up, but Ziad is a perfectly happy kid so he's rather unphased by anything. He's really cute too. It's sort of like my brother Dan when he was three and in pre-school and had all his kindergarten play-mommies to take care of him, and if Dan got stuck on the slide it was as serious as a natural disaster. Kate and I were walking around swinging Ziad up over curbs and teenage girls that are his friends from the bus were saying hi to him and waving from the swings. He also could not quite grasp that Kate doesn't really speak Arabic and just kept trying very earnestly to express his desire for a brush so that he could do her hair as Selma had done it earlier (I, for once, got the day off.) And I would step in and ask him what he wanted and he would tell me, and never really notice that I had answered and not Kate and would go back to demanding things from her in Arabic. After that, the dancing cartoon characters appeared, and Selma nearly fell asleep while I was carrying her, so Kate and I determined it was time to go home. Plus Shahreena was in the process of cooking Malaysian dinner for us, so it would not do to be too late.

Dinner was fantastic and Shahreena- like as always. My plan is to acquire some Tanzanian music from Kate and dance around the kitchen cooking Malaysian food and watch my mom stare bemusedly at the cultural chaos when I get home. All I really know how to cook now is Malaysian food, but I was left unattended for two weeks and managed to pull off two dishes without supervision so at least I can do that mildly successfully.) After dinner the car we had lined up to take Kate to the airport broke down (it is Egypt after all) but her luck held in that not only was there a metered yellow cab available, but the driver did not smoke. I am quite envious.

But the best part, as she was leaving she said she didn't want to go. None of my guests ever honestly say that!!! I am glad Cairo was nice to her.

xoxo
Lisa

Back in Kibondo!

 
It took 60 hours, but I finally made it back to Kibondo! I’ve already left several women giggling in the wake of my Kiha mwidiwe greeting and had a random guy holler “Hello! How are you? I love you!” across the street at me ... it’s good to be back :-D

Egypt!

Unlike the two friends from school who had visited Lisa a few weeks before me, I hadn’t come to Egypt armed with several different guide books, a detailed travel itinerary, and an arsenal of accumulated knowledge about hieroglyphics and all things ancient ... and given the number of disastrous/problematic incidents that their trip was plagued with, perhaps my lack of plans was a good thing (the highlight reel from their trip included getting stoned by a gang of school boys (twice in one day), almost missing the train to Luxor because the subway had broken down, being in the train (on the way back from Luxor) when it got hit by a car, a succession of uncooperative/rude/touchy-feely cab drivers, spending several hours in a local police station, seeing the Muslim Brotherhood get released from custody while waiting in that police station, etc.). As it turned out, my trip has gone so well that Lisa has decided I’m her Cairo good luck charm :-)

Days 1 and 2 were readjust-to-life-in-a-modern-city days ... spending an afternoon at City Stars (an enormous, 5-story mall that was definitely nicer than any I’ve seen in America), wandering around the supermarket like a kid in a candy store and shopping for things I can’t find in Kibondo (maple syrup! and refined salt! eek!), making Lisa promise she’d stop me from spending all my money on books (there are so many bookstores!), and generally enjoying the novelty of little things like drinking tap water and 24/7 electricity. Lisa’s only lived in this part of Cairo (Zemalek) for 2 weeks (the stonings were only 2 of many unpleasant run-ins with the boys who went to school next to her last apartment ... which eventually led to the police station visit ... which led to an almost comically inept police sting operation ... the failure of which led to Lisa’s program deciding to move her and her roommates to an apartment in a better part of town), so the area was new to both of us – which made for fun explorations. In addition to being one of the nicest parts of Cairo, Zemalek also happens to be on an island in the Nile, so my first taste of Cairo night life was going out for a late dinner at one of the many boat-cafés that dock along the river. It was pretty neat – good food, a nice view, and we were hanging out on the Nile!

The entry visa for Egypt took up the last empty spot in my passport, so day 3 started with a trip to the American Embassy. Lisa tagged along because the embassy apparently has a reputation for closing early and not having English-speaking staff, but my luck held – there was no line at the entrance, the staff manning the door spoke English, and the friendly man at Consular Services promised to have my passport (with the new pages inserted) ready the next day. We celebrated that refreshing burst of efficiency with koshari for lunch – a tasty and super-filling Egyptian dish that combines macaroni noodles and lentils with tomato, lemon, and chili sauces.

As promised, my passport (with 22 nice, new blank pages) was ready the next morning, which was quite a relief since I wasn’t going to be able to get back through Kenya without at least one empty page. After leaving the embassy, we hopped on the subway and made our way to Khan al-Khalili (or, as Lisa calls it, the Aladdin market), which is a big market crowded with little shops full of brightly colored scarves and jewelry and other tourist-oriented knick-knacks. For all that we started out in the part of the market that was clearly catering to tourists, after a few twists and turns we somehow ended up in the less-tourists-more-locals part, where we quickly gained a reputation as the girls who spoke Arabic (Lisa’s Arabic apparently being good enough for both of us). In addition to a flood of marriage proposals, this also resulted in some really good scarf discounts ... oh, and in being called Shakira by an old Egyptian man (we still haven’t agreed on which of us he was referring to – I maintain that since Lisa actually has hips, he was talking about her; Lisa insists that my hair (which is blonde by Egyptian standards) beats out hips). After a quick stop back at the apartment to whip up some cupcakes, we headed out for the next adventure on the schedule for Thursday: Abir’s birthday lunch (Abir is one of Lisa’s professors). This being Egypt, lunch didn’t start until around 4:30 or 5 ... but when it did start it was delicious. By the time we left (around 9), not only had I finally realized why Abir featured so often in Lisa’s stories (she’s awesome!), but I’d also added several new fun phrases to my Arabic vocabulary (thanks to Lisa, I already knew how to say “go away you crazy person,” “hush,” “she’s a problem,” “he’s got a dagger,” and “happy birthday” ... thanks to Abir, I added “I will send you to the morgue” and “I will hit you with my elbow” to the list).

Not only was Thursday the day I got to discover Egyptian meal times (lunch around 3 or 4; dinner around 10 or 11), it was also the night I got to discover that the skewed times applied to going out as well. There’d been some talk earlier in the week to going to a party with some of Lisa’s Egyptian friends, but then we found out that the party had been canceled, so I went to bed around 12:30. Luckily, Lisa had decided to stay up a bit longer (and for once I didn’t immediately fall asleep) because a few minutes after I crawled into bed, the doorbell rang. The party might have been cancelled, but that wasn’t going to stop Lisa’s friends from entertaining us, so out we went ... for a night that was (according to Lisa) truly Egyptian. And by that, I mean we spent the first 1 ½ hours driving around looking for the one guy’s car, and then spent another 2 ½ hours attempting to drive to our destinations (note the plural: we’d almost reached the first destination (a café on the edge of the desert), when someone decided it’d be more fun to take a boat out on the Nile, so we switched to trying to find a boat guy who wasn’t asleep) before finally parking at a 24 hour pool hall. Not having really ever played pool, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that it’s either pretty easy to play or I’m not half bad at it (it probably helped that we were playing in teams and my teammate was really good). That didn’t even begin to compare to how surprised Lisa and I were when we left the pool hall ... and walked out into broad daylight. It was 6:30am. And we’d made plans to visit the pyramids at 11am, so we opted for a pancake breakfast instead of sleep :-/

Despite being a little loopy for lack of sleep, we still had a great time visiting the pyramids. Lisa had managed to conscript Abir’s son, Abdu, into accompanying us – and in addition to being fun to hang out with and a really effective deterrent for all the pushy touts and vendors who accost tourists around the pyramids, Abdu also has an uncle who works as a guard at the pyramids, so we got the VIP treatment and didn’t have to pay the entrance fee. The pyramids themselves were stunning (as was the sphinx) – mind-bogglingly enormous and just amazing.

Thankfully we got to nap after getting back from Giza (or rather, Lisa napped and I slept (since she informed me that sleeping for 7 hours doesn’t qualify as a nap)), because Lisa’s friends had another all-night adventure planned for us. This one at least involved much less driving and much more dancing, since we ended up at the “Happy New Year 2009” club (which, like the café from earlier in the week, was also on a boat), where I received a long lesson in hip wiggling (and my teachers received an equally long lesson in the futility of trying to teach me how to move my hips...). Once again, we didn’t leave the club until well past dawn, although thankfully we didn’t have any plans for the next day, so we got to catch up on our sleep.

The week ended like it started – on a more relaxed, uneventful note (i.e., lots of walking around Cairo and a delicious late lunch at a Yemeni restaurant on Sunday followed by meeting up with another Princeton friend (who’s doing a semester abroad at the American University of Cairo), celebrating Sham el Nessim with Abir’s family, and dinner with Lisa’s roommates (who had been traveling) on Monday).