Zanzibar

I will be the first to admit that I live a pretty sweet life. I have had the chance to see and do things that most people dream about. This was reinforced ten times over when Marta and I went to Zanzibar last week. July 1 and 4 are holidays in Rwanda so Marta and I took the opportunity to take six days off at the price of two and headed off to an island adventure. Just a quick wikipedia update for all y'all... Zanzibar is an island archipelago off the coast of Tanzania (its the Zan in Tanzania) that used to be a major Arab trading port. So it has a strong Arab influence (98% of the island is Muslim) as well as a strong Indian influence from continued trade and of course continued Western influence from tourists, its main economy. So it has an amazing culture on top of perfect, and I do mean perfect beaches.

Marta and I flew in from Kilimanjaro and the first thing that we saw was water that rivaled the crayola "Turquoise" crayon. The water was so clear that you could make out the coral reefs beneath the water from the air. The airport is just south of Zanzibar City, the main city in Zanzibar, and as you fly in, you see thousands of tin roofs reflecting the heat and sun back up to the sky, like thousands of mirrors. When we landed, we were quickly ushered through the airport and into a waiting taxi that was literally from 1953. Our driver gave us an impromptu tour of the city (the Indian Embassy is the biggest and the Soviet block buildings built by the East Germans are still standing) and drove us into Stone Town, the oldest part of Zanzibar city and a World Historical Site.

It was in a word... stunning. Narrow alleys wind around tall weathered buildings that have been standing for hundreds of years. All the doors are wide, heavy wooden doors with ornate carvings and metal decorations, some rounded on the top, spiked, or flat depending on the era the building was erected and the cultural influences at the time.

We walked around Stone Town the first day, shopping and eating. After a year of brochettes and fries, it was a culinary explosion. Lobster, crab, octopus, shrimp, prawns, Italian, Indian, Japanese, Chinese... I have to stop. The best was probably the strip of street food vendors that set up shop as the sun was setting. Hundreds of people just walked up and down the line of street vendors eating Zanzibar Pizza, roasted crab, octopus skewers, or spiced tuna. We ate only briefly at the street food since we also wanted beer (what can I say... a year of Primus and Mutzig leaves one hungry for choices) and since Zanzibar is Muslim, alcohol is not allowed on the streets. After an meal which actually left me satisfied for the first time in a year, Marta and I went back to the hotel and crashed. Oh and side note, our room was cleverly separated from our bathroom by a shower curtain. Ingenious. And completely not-soundproof.

The second day, as much as we wanted to stay in Stone Town, we were also anxious for the beach. So after breakfast, we arranged a shuttle and took off for the Northwest beaches, specifically Kendwa beach about an hour north of Stone Town and a world away. At low tide, the beach stretches around the tip of the island for several kilometers with turqouise water on one side and jungle (and hotels) on the other. The sand is so soft that it felt like walking on flour and was almost white, with minute pieces of red (Marta and I still cant figure out where the red came from). There isnt too much to say about the next two days... We laid on the beach, drank beer, ate sea food, and made friends with the bartenders at the bar down the beach because they were nicer and cheaper and just generally had a completely lazy and indulgent time.

On the third morning, July 4, we went snorkeling. We went with a tour and ended up with a French Canadian couple, a Swedish couple, two friends from Norway, and a girl from England/ Australia. It took about three hours to reach the private island that we snorkeled off of (couldnt actually go on the island. That would have cost $300). So we all laid on the top level of the dhow (traditional fishing boat) and watched the island pass slowly by. When we got to the island everyone just jumped in and snorkeled around except for yours truly. I jumped in and pretty much swallowed a bunch of water, got water in my mask, and started thrashing around like a wounded seal (oh there are sharks in Zanzibar by the way). So finally I got it together, swam back to the boat, and practiced a little. Its not hard, but its unnatural and I apparently do not take naturally to swim sports. But after about ten minutes holding onto the boat and a new mask, i was good to go. I still swallowed a lot of water and i was afraid to dive under the water, but it was amazing nonetheless. We were swimming just feet above coral reefs with big violet and yellow fish, long thin silver fish, urchins, and star fish and at one point i looked up and i was swimming through a school of black and white striped fish. Every time I turned, they would turn and surround me again, swimming around and in front of me. After snorkeling, we went to a beach just across the channel from the island and had bbq fish, coconut rice, and fresh pineapple and oranges on the beach. It was a pretty idyllic day. Other than being spied on by a 13 year old boy when I was popping a squat. That wasnt as much fun.

After we got back, we reverted back to the previous pattern of beers and beach chairs until it got dark. We decided to walk down the beach a little to a place that had a band the night before and play some board games. In the middle of our second game, Kilimanjaro, a Masai warrior came and sat next to us and then started playing. Apparently he used to play all the time. All I can say is this... never get into a betting game against a Masai warrior playing Jenga.

After the jenga game, we made our way back to Kendwa rocks which was having its monthly full moon party, which draws people literally from around the island and from Dar. There was an acrobat squad and two djs and apparently a bbq buffet, which we were too late for (45 minutes after it opened, picked clean). Marta and I made friends with a middle aged south african couple that wanted us to stay with them for World Cup (the own a couple hotels) and were very intent on seeing us married so promised to fix us up with eligible footballers. Crap I just realized we left without getting their number. Stupid Linnea!

Unfortunately, we had to leave the next morning so we didnt stay too late at the full moon party. Late enough to regret it the next day but also early enough to make it through the day without hating life. You've been there. So the next day we left Kendwa and got a shuttle back into Zanzibar town. When we got the airport, the line was really long and completely stopped. We were waiting as they came along grabbing people out of line for flights that were literally leaving and rushing them through security (probably not the most secure airport in the world, now that I think about it). All of a sudden, a man came up to me asked me if I was on flight 712 to Dar (I was on 423 which left an hour later by the way) and grabbed my ticket. He started yelling at Marta (she was in the other line so we could cover our bases) to get over to where we were. Then he disappeared into a small office as we stood around completely confused and came out about ten minutes later with handwritten boarding passes for the new flight that looked like movie tickets and told us to hurry hurry, being quite annoyed that we were holding up the plane, and rushing us through security (no worries though we still had to pay the five dollar fee for intercountry travel). We ran out onto the tarmac and were hurried up the ramp by an impatient ground squad, chastised for being late (please keep in mind we were waiting for a different flight that was not scheduled to leave for another hour and a half) and then pushed into our seats. During this jostling, Marta dropped her passport in the plane, which was exactly the same color as the passport, so after we landed in Dar, Marta and I were literally on our hands and knees pawing the floor, looking for her passport. Which we found with very little help from the flight crew. One of them asked me "Why did you drop the passport in the middle when you were seated in the front?" Right... because we meant to do that.

So after that flight, we sat in the Dar es Salaam airport (it smells like bathroom FYI) and then were on our way to Kilimanjaro again. We spent the night in Moshi which seems like a pretty happening town at the base of Kili and the jump off point for people hiking the mountain. Unfortunately, we had neither the time nor money to do so, but at least I have seen it now! Finally, after spending the night in Moshi (there are no flights from Zanzibar to Rwanda on the same day using the airline we chose so we ended up with an overnight layover. It was cool though and Im glad we did) we were back on the flight to Rwanda and back at work by noon. Although I did have to shower because by then I hadnt showered for umm I think four days. I counted the ocean as a wash. My hair however did not.

The sacrifices I make...

I just wanted to relay the events of my weekend in case there were still people out there who thought that I am really sacrificing a lot by roughing it in Africa. On Saturday morning, I woke up early and went for a 7-8 mile run (not sure exactly). Rather than make me tired, it gave me all sorts of energy so I baked some zucchini bread, called some friends to come over, and then made pancakes, eggs, toast and coffee for a breakfast brunch. After that, we decided the only way to continue the day was to lay out by a pool all day. Which we did, while eating pizza and drinking beer. While there, we came up with the brilliant idea of going to a bar that has a big screen tv and convincing them to play a movie of our choice while we laid on the lawn and ate food. We went to bed pretty early because Sunday we decided we wanted to go hiking, so we went to Mount Kabuye, the mountain I climbed a few months ago, and hiked up to the top. After the five hour hike, we rolled back into town and then ate ourselves silly on Indian food.

All in all, it was a great, exhausting, relaxing, food-filled, over-active weekend. I expect more of the same in the run-up to coming home. I will let you know how that works out!

Random thoughts while the internet is down

My time here is quickly coming to a close. By the end of July, I will be finished at PSF and traveling home. So of course, this is a time of reflection as I think back on my last year. In so many ways it doesn’t seem like any time at all and in other ways, I feel as though I have been here forever. When I think back on being here, the things that I have done, the people I have met, I feel like I just got here. There are still so many people that I know, but just on the surface, people who I would like to get to know better. There are people that I meet and want to become better friends with, there are places that I want to visit or revisit. When I think of these things, I feel as though I have just touched down in Rwanda.

But when I think about family and friends at home, that is when I feel I have been away forever. Friends that are celebrating their wedding anniversaries, announcing births or engagements… missing these milestones is when I feel I have been gone far longer than a year. In no way do I want these things for myself, at least not yet (sorry Mom), but to miss them when other people are celebrating, it makes me think that I have been gone for so much, missed so much. So I have mixed feelings about coming home. I am excited to see family and friends, but I will miss this place dearly, miss the family and friends that I have made here.

I will miss the perfect weather, the gorgeous hills, the reserved but incredibly strong people, the generosity that they show us everyday. I won’t miss the stares, the cat calls, the cockroaches. I will miss the peacefulness and relaxation that comes with living simply, I will miss having time to cook meals and bake, run long distances and practice yoga. I won’t miss the boredom when these options are exhausted or the sense of being cheated that comes with negotiating transportation. I will miss the ease of travel and the opportunity to see incredible things, things that are just an hour away for me, but a lifetime away for other people. I will miss the sense that I am living an incredible adventure, even though for the most part it is as routine as the most average life in the US. I won’t miss feeling like everything here is just a little bit harder, takes a little bit longer, and requires a little more patience than anywhere else. Or maybe I will miss that. Because that reminds me how lucky I am, how lucky we all are, that our lives are so simple, so convenient. Maybe having to work a little bit harder for something, or having to wait a few more minutes for something, makes us harder working, kinder, more patient people. Maybe out of everything, the littlest daily challenges are what I will miss most. Maybe not… either way, I know I won’t miss the cockroaches.

Cold War Part Deux

I just wanted to relate what happened last weekend, as it was one of the most bizarre moments of my life.

Lake Kivu separates most of Rwanda from DR Congo. There are a couple main “resort” towns along the lake, one of them being Gisenyi which we have been to several times, and one is called Kibuye. Marta, my roommate, and I had never been to Kibuye so we decided it was time to go as we are both leaving soon. So Marta organized a weekend adventure for us. And since if one person goes on vacation, we all go, there ended up being 14 of us. One of the guys that went, James, organized a boat ride for us on the lake to visit various islands. The boat was essentially a large covered rowboat, although it did have an outboard motor. It also leaked heavily and had an official bailer. For someone vaguely afraid of drowning, it was not the most comforting site to sit next to the bailer, ankle deep in water. Anyway, we were touring around the lake when we came to a small island and there standing on the beach, was a man with flowing locks wearing nothing but a speedo and waving us down. Turns out the island is populated by a group of ten to twelve Russian men, all middle age, most a little overweight, and most wearing bathing suits that left very little to the imagination. There was also a monkey wearing a diaper. Upon our arrival, there was much merriment among the Russian men and invitations to drink Russian vodka with them. Being the well-mannered people we are, we of course took them up on the invitation, and let me tell you, real Russian vodka is delicious. NOTHING like what you get in the US, although I assume the effect is much the same since after we had all shared the vodka, we took part in “Cold War Part II” which was an extended dive competition between America and Russia. I’m not sure that anyone won. Except maybe the monkey because he kept stealing people’s beers when they weren’t looking. It is amazing how much alcohol a monkey can drink.

Pictures from Nyungwe

As promised, here are some pictures from Nyungwe National Forest, the largest remaining tract of protected rainforest in Eastern and Northern Africa, which is sad because it is really pretty small, about 1000km2. Regardless of the biting ants, poisonous snakes, and excruciatingly steep hikes, its an amazing place and worth the pain (although in the middle of our 10k hike I did wonder what would happen if one of us just collapsed in exhaustion...)





Unfortunately I tried to post more pictures but it just isnt happening. So here is the good old facebook link and I hope that at least some of you will be able to see it...

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2026550&id=48101028&l=96d4e32172

Apologies for being terrible

Hello all... after recently reading my friends blog I realized that I am a terrible blogger and decided in the last ten minutes of the day to give a quick update. It just seems that after ten months, nothing exciting really happens anymore. But of course thats not true and I will briefly update on the goings on in my life.

First, as some of you know, I will be attending Johns Hopkins in the fall to get my Phd in Population Family and Reproductive Health. So that means that I will be definitively leaving Rwanda on July 31, spending two weeks at home, and then moving to Baltimore. For all of you who worried that Rwanda might be dangerous, I think it has nothing on Baltimore. :) I guess Im just drawn to a place with t little thrill.

Second, the main update is the load of people who have been coming through in recent weeks. After my visit to Uganda, my friend Philip came down to visit. The weekend after that, my friend Angela who works at our sister site in Lusaka came up for a weekend just to see how the different projects work. While she was here we went camping in Nyungwe national forest. I really should (and will) provide pictures of that because it was stunning. After Angela, Cait, a friend from Emory came through for two weeks, and now my friend Thomas, who worked at CARE with me is here for a couple weeks. So although no one is specifically here to see me, its still pretty great to see all of these familiar faces.

Third, umm third... My lovely mother and aunt are coming to visit in the end of July and I am so excited for them to see Africa in all its varied wonderfulness (is that a word?). They are going to Kenya for a week, then coming here for a week, and then we will have four days in Ethiopia for a quick and dirty tour. I wont lie, I spend a lot of my time day dreaming about the food. So I am very much looking forward to that.

In the mean-time, life continues on as normal. Which I guess is an important lesson... no matter where you go, people are pretty much the same.

Uganda revistited

This is now the third time I have tried to write this entry. So we will see if I ever actually get around to finishing it...

Last week was the Genocide Memorial week. On the advice of many of my colleagues, I decided to take leave that week and go up to Uganda, not because it is dangerous or anything, just that it is a very sad, very intense time for a lot of people and a lot of people would themselves like to leave. So my friend Leigh and I went up to Lake Bunyoni in southern Uganda for a couple days. We stayed on an island in the middle of the lake in a place without electricity, running water, internet, and cell phone reception and I LOVED IT. It is so easy to get caught up in the sense of immediacy and importance that we have developed as a result of telecommunications. But when you can get away from it, really get away from it, you realize that actually you dont matter all that much and it is ok to take a break. Life will go on without being able to get in immediate and contact. So it was so relaxing to just break off contact with everyone and go hiking around the island, go canoeing (although we kept going in circles which started make me a little sick after a while) and eat a lot of delicious food.

We were there from Saturday until Tuesday morning. On Tuesday I hopped a bus to Kampala, which was one of the more frustrating bus trips of my time here. The driver told us we were leaving "now, now" when we bought our tickets (stupid stupid stupid. I should know better by now) and we ended up sitting in the bus for two hours waiting for it to fill up. Of course the driver left it running the whole time even though there was no heater or air conditioner, flooding the bus with exhaust and inducing an awesome asthmatic cough that I have yet to get rid of, a week later. The driver then proceeded to treat the bus trip as his own personal shopping expedition, stopping at various fruit vendors along the way, judging produce and haggling prices for up to half an hour each time. My favorite may have been when he sent a boy scurrying back and forth between the bus and his fruit stand four or five times to bring different assortments of oranges to him. Ugh...

Anyway after about ten hours (it should only take six) we got into Kampala and I made it to a hostel. Stayed in Kampala for a day and a half but its pretty mundane for most people. I watched two movies back to back and ate thai food. Standard I think for most people but VERY exciting for me. And I had a series of late night conversations with random other expats coming through the hostel about the various state of affairs in the world, economy, gay marriage, stem cell research, the nature of good and evil, legalization of drugs, climate change... I mean you know, those standard light-hearted conversations you normally have with strangers.

On Wednesday night I met up with my friend Lacey, who I lived with in Gulu almost two years ago, and this was really when the trip got going. First, because it was really nice to see an old friend and share our experiences about living and working abroad and second, because Gulu was in a time of rapid change when we were there two years ago and we were both very curious to see what has happened. So bright and early Thursday morning we got a bus to Gulu.

The most amazing part of the trip to Uganda was revisiting Gulu. After two years away, I really had no idea what to expect. Although the peace talks have continued, and there has not been much, if any, reported rebel action in the area, the increasing activity in DR Congo was reason to worry. I thought that perhaps the resettlement process, wherein people were returning home, had been disrupted and that people would still be living in the camps. But as we grew closer to Gulu, there were definite indications otherwise. Many of the camps that had crowded the road the previous year have been abandoned and the store fronts that were previously dirty and crumbling were newly painted. Bars had pool tables and semi-permanent attachments built on to allow for people to linger and enjoy themselves. Sure maybe in a society with rampant alcoholism, encouraging more drinking isn’t the best idea. But, in a place where people have not had any real form of recreation or entertainment in twenty years, the pool tables are a great sign.

Even Gulu itself has changed, although not with signs as significant as abandoned camps. Rather, there are more banks, three or four stories high, and the boundaries of the town have expanded. Rapidly. Perhaps most encouraging, and certainly for Lacey and I, most comforting (quite literally), is the improvements in the roads. Two years ago, the roads were practically impassable. Even in a 4x4 LandCruiser, we would be tossed around in the car like dolls. Some smaller cars would not even take us to For God (where the center is) because they would bottom out their cars too often. This time however, the roads were much improved. Almost completely level with very few potholes or divots. Although that might seem like a relatively insignificant improvement, it actually means quite a bit. The road from Gulu continues to southern Sudan, to Juba. It is the main means of keeping communication and trade open between two very poor regions of the world. Goods can be more easily transported to an area in need of food and basic commodities and people can travel more safely between regions. The poor condition of the roads two years ago was viewed by many people as a physical manifestation of the poor regard that the Ugandan government had of both northern Uganda and southern Sudan. The improvement in the roads can then be regarded as an indication that the government is increasingly interested in improving the lives of northern Ugandans and improving relations with southern Sudan (it also probably has something to do with presidential elections next year. In the traditional anti-Musevini north, it would do him well to woo voters). Whatever the reasons for improvement, there is no doubt that things are getting better and to be able to witness it was extremely uplifting.

Uganda revistited

Football

Yesterday I went to the World Cup Qualifying game, Rwanda versus Algeria. Most people didnt think that Rwanda didnt have a chance of winning, and even though they didnt win, they also didnt lose. The game ended up 0-0. But Rwanda was definitely dominating the game, with most of the time spent near the Algeria goal. It was too bad they didnt win, but they definitely made a strong showing.

At first we thought we were going to get rained out. About an hour before, the sky opened up, as it tends to do and poured down a shower. But within a half an hour, the rain was over and the sun was back out so off to the game we went. Where it was packed out with fans ready to watch their favorite team play their favorite sport.



And it was a great game to watch, as much for the game as for the crowd. Aryn and I were sitting right underneath the giant screen, surrounded by Rwandan men, who were alternatively very excited about the game, jumping around, sharing opinions, and waving down people walking in front of us, or very intent, focused completely on the game. At one point, when Rwanda scored (turned out to be offsides), the whole stadium jumped up, screaming and cheering. No one sits by idly at a football game. We were also near the cheering section, which is full of men dressed in yellow, green, and blue outfits with faces painted, flags waving, horns tooting. I dont think there was a minute during the game that they sat or were quiet.

When it was over, we were exiting the stadium, not really by our own free will but by being swept along by the crowd (all men, most in need of a shower) when all of a sudden everyone came to a halt. Aryn and I were smashed together, surrounded by a crowd of men, trying to figure out what was happening. Turns out no one could leave before Paul Kagame did. So until the President left, we were pushed up and down, back and forth, stuck between the contractions of the crowd. Once PK left, the crowd swept out, exploding onto the streets and walking back through town, everyone dressed in blue, green, and yellow and generally proud of their country and their team.

To my mother...

I have emailed you! I dont know you havent been getting them. Please do call. I have been wondering why you havent.

To other people... please feel free to inform my mother of this post.

More things I love

1. Minibuses. Lots of things about minibuses. One of the things that I love about minibuses is that you can easily fit 16 people in them. And they are the size of a minivan. So when people say that a mid size sedan is not big enough for a family of five, I will laugh in their face. Another thing I like about mini-buses is when the "conductor" (thats the guy who opens the door while you are still screeching to a halt on the side of the road and closes the door while you are screeching away) is wearing a Spokane YMCA shirt. Little touch of home. Another thing I love about minibuses is when the driver takes it upon himself to decorate it. For example, the spiderman minibus that I rode in last night that had a decal of spiderman and his web that literally covered the car. And the inside upholstery was the same color as the decal. I believe I commented on coordination in a previous list of things I love.
2. When you order fish here, they bring a giant fish. The whole fish. Head to tail. Fried and covered in onions. So good.
3. The absolute astonishment of the staff when I revealed I had a belly button piercing. Lots of grabbing of my shirt and showing it off, pointing, and giggling ensued.

Something I DONT love... Americans preachers coming to Africa to hold rallies preaching that praying to God will cure AIDS. I cannot even begin to explain how detrimental this kind of activity is. I am not trying to say that prayer has no place in a coping strategy, but to tell people that there are documented cases of people being "cured" by prayer is well Im sorry... but its disgusting. It is detrimental to the health, spirituality, and mental well-being of these individuals and puts entire populations at risk by thinking that practicing risky behavior is ok as long as you pray afterward. There is no greater barrier to effective HIV control than evangelists telling people NOT to use condoms, NOT to see doctors, NOT to learn about HIV but just pray pray pray. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!!

I cannot begin to explain how angry this makes me. How can people be so blinded by the belief in "one true god" that they turn a blind eye to what is directly in front of them? Does science have all the answers? Clearly not. Does religion have a place in every society? Yes. But when religion covers the very real experiences of millions of people and touts the miraculous curing of a few (who lets be honest, probably were given the wrong test result in the first place), it is destructive. Pure and simple.

Things I enjoy

Here is just a random list of things that I love about Rwanda...


1. Everyone has a cell phone. Ev-er-y-one. So even if you are in the middle of nowhere, climbing up a hill with a couple houses and some goats around you, you know that someone will have a phone, no matter how out of place you may think it is.
2. Everyone answers their phones at completely inappropriate times. For example, at a recent gathering someone was giving a speech and the person to whom he was giving the speech was on the phone. Didn’t stop the speech, didn’t stop the phone call.
3. Matching. It’s almost unbelievable how coordinated women are here. Shoes will match belts will match earrings will match handbags and all of them match the shirt. Imagine a completely sky blue outfit and you’re not far off from my co-workers favorite ensemble.
4. Or the opposite extreme…Complete non-matching. A really bright blue and neon green floral print chetenge (kind of like a sarong) matched with a man’s red and yellow paisley shirt. Stunning.
5. The liberal use of capes.
6. When it starts to rain, the country stops working. Literally. Meetings are canceled, the internet shuts down, buses stop running. You can actually tell someone “I couldn’t do that yesterday. It was raining”. This is in fact a legitimate excuse.
7. Umuganda. This is the monthly “mandatory” community service day. Ask any Rwandan how they spent their umuganda and the answer will be “in bed”.

Food around the world

Originally i was going to just write about the goat roast that my roommates and I hosted this weekend but just before doing that I got distracted by the following facebook album.
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=48101028&ref=profile#/album.php?aid=57521&id=608888964&ref=nf


For those of you unable to access it, it is a series of photographs of families and the food they consume in one week, along with the cost of food. The original website and book review is here: http://menzelphoto.com/books/hp.html.

The photographs ranges from food purchased for 500 dollars in Germany featuring a lot of beer, pizza, and meat products for a family of four to 1.25 in Chad featuring a couple bags of rice and three or four small piles of fruits and vegetables for a family of four. It is an interesting look at the amount of food, amount of money, and amount of necessary nutrients consumed around the world. Although it would make sense that those in the wealthiest countries would have the best diets, it is easy to see based on the pictures why Americans are plagued with heart disease, Indians with diabetes, and English with no culinary skills. For me what was particularly interesting was to look at the amount of fruits and vegetables on each table. Those countries which had the most vegetables and the least packaging also seemed to be the ones that spawn diet fads (Mediterranean diet, japanese diet, french). Coincidence? Or a coincidence that the American family featured on average contributes four times as much garbage to the planet than the European families featured?

I will get to goat roast but I really want people to actually look at this album. I am a huge advocate of eating locally grown, seasonal produce; in other words eating sustainably and healthy, at least most of the time. I encourage each of you to look at it and consider what impact your food choices have on your health, on your wallet, and on the world.

General update

I sent this email out a little while ago but I know that I dont have everyone's email so this is just a general update...

Hi everyone,
The spat of emails checking up on me over the past few days was a kick
in the pants to write. Thanks everyone for reminding me.

Things are going pretty well here. I am now half way through my contract at PSF and have settled into life. Rwadda doesnt seem quite so foreign anymore, in fact, it is starting to feel a little like home. Life is really pretty routine here, in its own way. I spend most of my time cooking or watching dvds or studying french. OK I dont really study french that much but it felt good to say. I found a gym about a month ago in the giant hotel near my house and go there a couple of times a week. Especially after seriously spraining my ankle a couple weekends ago leading to a swift curtailment of running. There are small differences, like the fact that my oven is about the size of a toy oven and can only fit one baking sheet in at time, making any kind of baking take twice as long. There is the fact that the gym is the size of a small bedroom but it does have a tv, so if there is a football (soccer) game on, there is always a crowd of hotel employees ringing the room with their faces pressed up against the glass watching. The dvds are usually pirated versions and occasionally have people walking in front of the camera that someone somewhere smuggled into a movie theater. The power has been a little spotty lately. It will be fine and then will just shut off for five or ten seconds and come back on. Its no problem except that it screws up downloads from itunes, which take days or weeks or in some cases months to finish.
Last weekend, I went to Bujumbura in Burundi with Carey and Leigh, two of my friends here. It was a beautiful, right on the coast of a very large lake and completely ringed by mountains. Across the lake in the distance, we could see the Congo. I have the idea in my mind that the Congo is all jungle, not too different than the Heart of Darkness. From the few glimpses I have had of the Congo and the total lack of development along the lake or in the mountains, I am pretty sure that I am not too far off. Carey, Leigh, and I just relaxed on white beaches and drank Amstel Bak, the only medium bodied beer I have had in six months and it only took a six hour drive to get it. Sometime later this month, Leigh and I are going to go up to Lake Bunyoni in Uganda and do much the same thing. As much as I love Kigali, there is a serious lack of bodies of water in town. We dont have to go as far as Burundi or Uganda to get to lakes of course, but if you are traveling anyway, why not?

In other news, I have gotten a few calls from graduate schools regarding the PhD applications I submitted in a panic a few months ago. Now that they are actually thinking of accepting me, I have to figure out what the heck I want to do. I was hoping to put the decision off another year or two but it seems as though, destiny was not going to give me the option. So there is a good chance that I will be back in the States in August, although where in the states is still up in the air. Either way, it will be a coast though, thats for sure. Oddly enough, I think the thing that I am most looking forward to, besides of course seeing all of you, is the seasons. The weather here is beautiful every day and although that isnt really a reason to complain, I look at pictures of people in winter clothes and the upcoming spring fashions (yes I look at pictures of spring fashion online) and I cant help but be a little envious. Wearing the same six or seven outfits gets pretty old and I miss the way the air feels different depending on what season it is.

So all in all, things are good. There are days when I love being here and cannot think about coming home and other days when I would give anything to be back. And usually those are actually the same day or even the same hour.

I love all of you. Please keep emailing me!

Burundi

This past weekend I went to Bujumbura, Burundi with Carey and Leigh, two of my friends/ colleagues. Leigh has a friend who lives there so we hopped on a bus on Friday and rode down there. The bus ride is incredibly windy on narrow roads, but it is also incredibly beautiful and even though I was car sick, I didnt want the ride to end. During the whole trip, I looked out the window at the small farms and hill terracing. Although I have said it many times, it continues to blow my mind how every square inch of land is utilized here. Despite the ingenious way of terracing the hills however, erosion is definitely present. Alongside the road, I could see the places where there have been mudslides. There are so few trees left on the hills that there is nothing keeping the soil in place other than the terracing. Kagame really needs to address the deforestation of the land, both for economic reasons (keeping national forests as tourist destinations) and for land management.
But I digress. After a few hours we got to the border crossing (apparently the fact that we were white really threw the Burundi border patrol for a loop. Our bus driver, Edmund, had to go into the office and demand our passports back. I really love that that was even possible. He just went into the office, no security, no check, just walked right in the door and said that they had held us up long enough, we were all nurses and we needed to be going thank-you-very-much). Once we had crossed the border, the difference between Rwanda and Burundi was quite stark. Although overall the quality of life is probably not too different, both countries are quite poor, Burundi was quite obviously dirtier and less organized. The roads were packed with people walking whereas in Rwanda there are usually sidewalks or something close to that and the hills, although cultivated, were not nearly as well organized and there was much more jungle and brush surrounding the farms. After another two hours or so, we came around a turn and there were suddenly no more hills. The hills sloped down to a large plain and in the distance there was a gorgeous blue lake. It still took us a while to get down to the bottom and into the town, but we were there!
Buj is very nice, more chaotic than Kigali but also smaller. So though it has lots of traffic and rule breaking and horn honking, it still manages to maintain a small town air. The first day, second, and third we went to the beach on the lake which has white sands and small trees sort of like palms and when you look across the water, in the distance you can see the green mountains of Congo ringed by clouds and mist. The beach hasnt really been developed yet so there arent too many people on it and no one hassling you to buy cloth or food or necklaces or whatever. People just leave you alone to sleep on the beach. When we got hungry we went to a small restaurant just down the beach that had a pool and pizza and tropical drinks with little umbrellas. That was pretty much our life for three days. All in all, a wonderful vacation.

Photos

While I continue to compose overdetailed accounts of my life and travels, here are more links to facebook. I have received a few emails that people cant access these without facebook accounts, but they should be public links, available to people without facebook. Please let me know if this is not the case; I will try to put photos up elsewhere but uploading is difficult as is. Two applications might just take up too much time.

Safari Day One
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2023723&l=1a211&id=48101028

Safari Day Two and Blyde River Canyon
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2023726&l=08c44&id=48101028

Capetown
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2023727&l=82484&id=48101028

Cape of Good Hope Tour
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2023778&l=f31ba&id=48101028

I tried to put these in chronological order. So we started out with a safari and Joburg tours and then went on to Capetown where we went to the water front, climbed Table Mountain, went on a wine tour, and went on a Cape of Good Hope Tour.

More about South Africa

I always think that i can recount all of my adventures day by day without getting bored. Despite 26 years of evidence disproving this theory, I still keep trying. I think not this time though. So the abridged version of my trip to SA. Here we go...

I believe we ended with Katie and I eating sushi and having our eyes roll back in our heads with delight. This kind of culinary orgy continued throughout our time in South Africa. Of course there were days that werent quite so nice (we ate at gas stations a few more times than probably necessary but there is something to be said for junk food) but for the most part we indulged ourselves in middle eastern and sushi. Oh the gluttony didnt end. And of course the highlight, the unicorn, the most elusive of elusive cuisines on this side of the globe... MEXICAN FOOD! OK it wasnt that great and the margaritas were pretty weak, but when you are deprived of water, you dont complain if there is a little dirt, right?

Moving on from cuisine which, though a highlight for me, is probably not nearly as exciting for other people. We spent the first two days in Johannesburg essentially farting around, shopping, eating, getting our bearings. The third day we went to Soweto is the largest township in Johannesburg and where both Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela are from. In fact, there houses are about a block from each other on the same street. Which is pretty amazing to think that two such brilliant influential men came from the same place, knowing the same people, learning the same lessons. Its pretty cool to think about who they must have known, the people that were inspirations to them, two men who have become inspirations for so many others. What might those people have done if not restricted by race and poverty?
The Soweto tour was interesting, but I have a tendency to shy away from "misery tourism". When I was in New Orleans, I didnt especially want to see the Lower Fourth ward, I had no interest in seeing the slums outside of Bombay, and I dont want to go to Goma, in the Congo, unless I have something to contribute. Soweto is not nearly as impoverished as these places, although it is certainly poor, and the uprisings there played an important part of South African political history. And, everyone seems proud of Soweto. It was almost as though not visiting Soweto was an insult to the town of Joburg. So we hired a car and went out there with two guys who where staying with us at our hostel, the someone what overambitiously named Backpackers Ritz, and a driver we hired. Now the thing about this driver was he was pretty racist. Now I dont have a problem with a black person from South Africa nursing a lingering resentment of white people, or really for too many non-white people anywhere nursing said resentment. White people in general have a pretty terrible history of exploitation, segregation, dehumanization etc. So really, if there are members of minority groups out there that arent all about my lily white skin, than i get where you are coming from. But maybe, maybe, and I am just putting this out there, you shouldnt be in the tourism industry. When your tour guide is saying some pretty resentful things about white people and white power structures and our continuing work to suppress the black people... well that just gets uncomfortable. He wasnt a terrible man or anything, it was just that sometimes, it was uncomfortable to be lumped in with power structures and histories that I really dont agree with. And when we asked questions about things other than the struggle for apartheid, basically the only answers were that South Africa is great, South Africans are the smartest and the best, and the politicians are honest and true and there is no corruption. Which many other people were quite happy to tell us was not the case at all. National pride and racial pride are great. But that doesnt mean that they are infallible.

Oops in true Linnea fashion I got bogged down in detail and once again one entry for one day. I swear one of these days i will get better at being concise.