Oh frabjous day, callooh callay!

Note: The following blog post is old but I have it written, so why not post it right?

I SOLD THE PRADO!!!! YAYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!! I SOLD THE PRADO!!!!!!!!!!! Ehem.

I guess I’m a little excited about that. After spending so much time in Lusaka focusing on selling the Prado with no success it figures that the one trip I make to Lusaka for other reasons (paying tuition for our university students and doing general logistical things) would be the time that the perfect situation presented itself. A really nice American girl doing her PhD in Zambia saw my ad in one of the frequented Muzungu cafe’s and phoned me to look at the Prado and basically bought it on the spot. She did want a mechanic to check it out, but after that checked out we struck a deal and started the (LOOONG and confusing) change of ownership process. Its really perfect because she is going to be up in the bush studying primates and didn’t need a flash Lusaka car but a sturdy bush car (enter the Prado) and I wasn’t going to be able to sell my sturdy bush car to anyone in Lusaka looking for a flash city car. The stars aligned. Hopefully the whole change of ownership process will be done soon and the exchange can be made and I can enjoy my triumphant return to Meheba complete with trumpets and cascades of flower petals. Or at least a long bus ride and friendly faces at the Solwezi station. I’d take that.

So with that weight off my shoulders I can turn to telling you, my faithful readers (hi mom!!!) about my trip to Namibia. My wonderful glorious ridiculously fun trip to Namibia. The trip to Namibia that began with a trip to Victoria falls and included a fall down a hole and a fall out of an airplane. Lots of falls involved. Lets start with the first one.

Victoria Falls is beautiful. Well, at least I think it would be if I could see it. Its Powerf thats for sure. (Local note: Powerf = powerful. People love to drop the “ul” from words here. Its wonderf.) The time of year I chose to visit Vic falls would not be the time I would recommend to people if you only have one shot at seeing it. Going right at the end of rainy season means the Zambezi is VERRRRY full and the sheer volume of water going over the falls produces such an amazing mist that you can see it rising in the air from kilometers away and if you get anywhere near it you will feel as though you are in a monsoon downpour. This mist also obstructs your view of the falls almost entirely. There is only one tiny spot from which you can see anything at all but its really cool to experience the mist and the “rainfall” it produces (even with raincoats we were soaked to the bone). Plus, Livingstone is a really fun town with lots of cool people to hang out with. We met many of these people on the sunset cruise we took on the Zambezi the evening after “viewing” the falls. I’ve yet to see a more perfect sunset. I also got to see my friend Doc from the bookbus. You truly faithful readers (shout out to mom again) will remember that the bookbus was a group of British voluntourists who camped behind our house in Meheba for a month in July last year and Doc was their awesome Zambian driver who lives in Livingstone. Rumor has it the book bus will be back again this July. Wicked.

After enjoying the sites and mist of Livingstone we headed to Namibia. On the way we saw a rhino hanging out by the side of the road. Cool. It was very obvious when we crossed into Namibia (besides the whole border post thing) because we immediately found pothole-free tar roads. Wow. It was so nice. We started our long journey from Zambia to Etosha National Park and stopped in the little town of Rundu to catch some Zzzz’s in the middle. We were right on the Okovango river and it was lovely. Upon entrance to Etosha we almost immediately saw a herd of Zebra on the side of the road. Scratch that, in the middle of the road. Honking did not deter them. It became clear that animals here were used to cars and would not be difficult to spot. We camped in the park at a campsite on a watering hole for two nights. At the watering hole in the middle of the night I saw three male lions coming to drink. We also saw a big male elephant, several giraffe, and a few jackal. The jackal did not confine themselves to the watering hole though and I also got an up-close and personal encounter with one in my campsite next to my tent. Sweet…. We saw tons of zebras, giraffes, springbock, hemsbock and other antelope species, several lions, a couple elephants, and on our last drive of the trip were lucky enough to see the rare and elusive leopard. This is the second leopard I’ve seen in Africa, the first being a freak spotting on a late night drive on a rural road in Tanzania. This one was almost as up close and personal. At first it was very hard to spot crouched down in the tall grass, but finally stood up and gave us a full view of its beautiful feline self. It was an excellent way to end our game park adventure.

From Etosha we headed towards the Skeleton Coast. Along the way we stopped to see the world’s largest meteorite and Namibia’s petrified forest. I admit both were equally underwhelming. However the general scenery as we drove through Namibia was overwhelming. It was so beautiful and parts of it I swear were taken directly from West Texas and Arizona. The Skeleton Coast on the other hand was taken from nowhere. As you near the Skeleton Coast you almost forget that it was named that for the many shipwrecks that dot its beaches and not because of its complete sparseness and general lacking of life or any life supporting elements. It is really miles and miles of nothing. Yet it is oddly beautiful nothingness. I can’t describe it so I won’t try but rather will advise you all to go and see it for yourself.

As we left the Skeleton Coast national park and continued south we decided to stop in Henties Bay to visit some friends of my traveling companion, Stefan. They have an angling tours business (thats fishing tours for those unfamiliar with the term...I was) and they have pictures of people with their huge catches lining their walls. I was busy walking around looking at the pictures when all of the sudden there was no longer ground underneath my feet. Instead I was falling down a hole in the middle of their living room. I’m not entirely sure why there was a sunken pit in the living room but I am glad there was a mattress at the bottom of it. I managed to jump out of an airplane a couple days later with no problems, but walking in someone’s living room proved to be too dangerous for me. I have a pretty nice scar on my knee now because of it.

Speaking of jumping out of a plane, I did that. We went to Swakopmund the next day and looked around the really fun town sandwiched between the ocean and the desert. It was pretty amazing. The best way to see the scenery is by plane, but when you see the little plane they take you up in, you’d want to jump out of it too. Sky diving has got to be one of the most amazing feelings I’ve ever had. The 30 second free fall doesn’t feel like 30 seconds at all, and I think I need to go skydiving a second time to really enjoy it instead of being so nervous. It was awesome and I will for sure do it again, though I’m not sure if anything can beat falling through the sky with the ocean stretching to the horizon on one side and golden sand dunes as far as the eyes can see on the other.

The next day we took it easy because a giant sandstorm came up and made visibility zero and grit in teeth possibility 100. It was pretty amazing seeing such a powerful storm. I had to get out into the dunes the next day when the storm subsided so we went to Dune 7 and rode quad bikes through the dunes. It was INSANE. Some of these dunes we were going up and down were several stories high. Freaked me out and simultaneously was the only activity that could have followed sky diving.

After our adrenaline filled few days in Swakop we headed to the beautiful and serene Sossusvlei to camp and see the beautiful red dunes. Pretty freaking cool. Would have been even better if I hadn’t become really sick though. We decided to get me checked for Malaria as my condition wasn’t improving, but luckily there was no round two malaria. Stefan has family that live on a farm in Namibia, so we went and relaxed on their farm for a few days for my recovery. They are wonderful and hospitable people and it was really nice to relax for a few days.

All good things must come to an end and so finally we left the farm and headed to Windhoek. Or at least we tried to. A few miles outside of Stefan’s family’s place I smelled burning rubber. Then I heard a wheezing noise coming from the engine. I’ve decided I’m bad luck for cars. We pulled over to find out that the air-conditioning belt had snapped and in the process had cut a slit in the rubber air intake hose for the turbo. Not terrible, but not good. Luckily Stefan’s cousin is a very handy man so we drove back to the farm and they spent the next few hours rigging up a fix. A few hours later we were back on the road and drove up and spent an evening in Windhoek then made the long drive back to Zambia. We had to stop every so often along the way to re-fix the rigged up hose, but all and all it could have been a lot worse. Moral of the story, don’t let me in your car. BUT I sure do know a lot more about cars after this year and my several car trouble filled trips.

In short, I would like to implore all of you to go to Namibia. Its awesome and you will love it. Also, go skydiving. Its awesome and you will love it.

So Write before I die, “ ‘E liked it all!”

Its like a book, I think, this bloomin’ world,
Which you can read and care for just so long,
But presently you feel that you will die
Unless you get the page you’re readin’ done,
An’ turn another - likely not so good;
But what you’re after is to turn ‘em all.

Gawd bless this world! Whatever she ‘ath done -
Excep’ when awful long - I’ve found it good.
So write, before I die, “ ‘E liked it all!”
-Rudyard Kipling

I’m working on a poetry project with the students we sponsor at the high school right now. I’m having them study some of the great poets of the past and present as well as write their own poetry. We’ll get together and have a poetry reading where they’ll recite a poem that spoke to them and then read their own creation. I’m looking forward to it.

The above poem spoke to me. This is only part of a poem by Rudyard Kilpling, but it outlines what I’ve been thinking over the past few months. Realizing that my time is now drawing to a close here in Zambia, I’ve started thinking about the future. While I’m not yet to the point where presently I feel I will die unless I get the page I’m reading done and turn another, I completely understand that feeling and know its not far off. What I’m after is to turn ‘em all.

In an effort to turn that next page I have decided that I will be going to Cameroon to study French for three months. I won’t head immediately there but rather when my contract expires on August 15 will go to Zimbabwe to visit a couple of friends then fly to South Africa for a week to visit my dad who will be there on business. From South Africa I will head to Cameroon at the beginning of September and will stay until December 7, at which time I will head to Montreal to visit friends and meet my parents in Quebec for some fun in the...snow. This all just recently came together but I’m pretty excited about it. I’ve come to realize that if I want to work in development I need to learn French. As such I found a program called the Humanity Exchange (based in Canada) that has a French course and volunteer opportunity all wrapped into one. I will be staying with a French speaking host family, studying French for two hours a day three times a week and volunteering with a local NGO using my marketing skills and, you guessed it, improving my French. All together I think this sounds like a pretty great experience and I’m excited for the chance to see more of Africa. While I think I’ll be ready for a break by the time I finally make it home to the States, I’m looking forward to working with another organization and having another perspective of development work in Africa.

With only a month left in Zambia it’s hard to believe that its almost over. I’m starting to look back and see how much is behind me, but looking back doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot ahead of me and I’m excited for my next adventure. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to write that I liked it all, but at least I have turned a few pages.

Radiate

Oh yes I know, I know, you can spare me the criticism, I know I haven’t updated the blog in a long time. And yes I know that my previous post was a cop out post actually written by Jeremy. And I know that at the end of the day, I have absolutely no excuse other than sheer laziness in getting to my computer and writing, but its not the end of the day yet, and so I’m still going to give excuses. My battery is still dead on my computer. I haven’t been in Meheba for a month, and this blog is after-all chronicling my life in Meheba Refugee Settlement, so technically my time in Lusaka should not be on this blog...My dog ate my homework...and I have been far too busy launching my Zambian music video career to dilly dally on such trivial a thing as a blog. See, its not my fault. Well, there is some truth to those excuses…

You see I have in fact been in Lusaka for almost a month now. I mentioned some time back that my good friend Sara would be moving to Congo to work with FORGE in a new office they were opening in Eastern Congo. Unfortunately, around the same time that Meheba was experiencing some unrest, conditions were becoming tense in the region where Sara was working as well. While things have calmed down and we are able to continue our established projects in Meheba, the situation in Congo has changed significantly since deciding to open the office there and it was decided recently that it was no longer feasible for FORGE to go ahead with their plans in Eastern Congo. As such, the office was shut down and Sara has gone back to America to pursue other opportunities. The task of selling some assets from Congo has fallen to me, most notably the Landcruiser Prado that is no longer needed now that the office has shut down. And so, I find myself in Lusaka selling a car. Incidentally, if anyone in Lusaka wants to buy a 1995 Prado, please phone me :)

In “my” previous post, you read Jeremy’s account of our previous adventure ridden trip to Lusaka. What was missing was information we got a few days later that the same driver who dropped us in Lusaka continued his journey towards South Africa but came to a halt when he hit not one, but two cows on his way through Botswana, totaling the vehicle he was driving. Storybook.

After the previous trip to Lusaka and my general distaste for the 12 hour bus ride, I was looking forward to an uneventful and comfortable drive down to Lusaka in the Prado. The Prado had come back from Congo to Solwezi and we found a driver to take the Prado and me with it down to Lusaka to sell it. Sweet. We set off early from Solwezi and the Prado was sailing along with no problems...until we heard the pop. My first thought was that we had popped a tire, but the ride did not feel as though a tire was gone. My second thought was “why on earth can’t I manage ONE uneventful trip to Lusaka?!??” As we pulled off to the side of the road we noticed steam pouring from the bonnet of the car (can you tell I’ve been spending too much time with colonists? Its the “hood” for all the American readers, but I do think “bonnet” has a much nicer ring to it). Opening the bonnet revealed a rather sizable crack running the length of the top of the radiator. Lovely. Luckily, we were only a few kilometers from a sizable town and on a stretch of road that was not far from a village where people were able to bring us water to fill the radiator and sell us a container of water to take with us. This was important as in the 15km to the nearest town we had to stop twice to refill the radiator.

In Chingola we were able to find someone to put a fiber resin over the crack to act as a temporary repair and get us on the road towards Lusaka. We still had to stop every hour or more to refill the radiator with water, but at least we weren’t stuck in Chingola and were able to make our Lusaka destination the same day...even if it was fourteen hours later. (For reference, I have friends who can make this trip in seven hours.)

Side note: Let this be a lesson to you, always save your work. Having no battery does actually suck. I’ve lost half of this blog post twice now as I accidently nudge my computer and the power cord comes loose and the computer turns off. See my commitment to you my faithful readers?? You WILL have a new blog post.

Back to the story. After repairing the Prado’s radiator I take it to a specialist to tell me everything that needs to be fixed and appraise the price he thinks I can get for it as-is vs. making the repairs first. After getting it back from him I spend the next week putting for sale signs on the Prado, getting an ad in the paper, hanging adverts in public places and telling everyone I come in contact with to buy the Prado or at the very least get their friends to buy it. I happen to be in town when a new FORGE volunteer who will be spending six weeks in Meheba is scheduled to arrive in Lusaka. I drive to the airport outside of town to pick her up. Driving this distance proves to be too much for the Prado and as I near the airport the heat gauge goes wild and steam once again pours from the bonnet. Lovely. I pull over and let it cool down enough to get to the airport less than 3km away. Once I finally get to the airport I’m able to refill the radiator, find and pick up Linda, the FORGE volunteer, and get back into town to grab some dinner. After dinner I head home with Linda only to see the heat gauge go wild again less than 2 km from home. This time however, it wont go down. We open the hood and realize why...the top of the new welded radiator has cracked again. A good samaritan stops and helps us fill it with enough water to get home, and the next day I make arrangements to find and price out a new radiator.

The next day Linda was able to get on a bus to Meheba and I was able to find a new radiator. Now I’m not really good with cars but this time I don’t believe the “there was just no water in the radiator” excuse and make sure they find out exactly why this keeps happening. Apparently there is something wrong with the cylinder heads and gaskets and such. Again, I’m no good with cars, but I figure I’m done repairing and replacing radiators so this needs to be fixed. However, this is not an easy fix and takes several days of labour. Having the car in the shop for a week does not make it easy to sell. Customer: “Hello, I’m interested in your Prado, can I come see it today?” Me: “Er, um, well I would love to show it to you today, but you see I took it to my mechanic to look it over and have some minor repairs made to get it ready to sell.” Customer: “Oh well, that’s ok, I don’t mind having to make some minor repairs, can I see it tomorrow?” Me: “Er um, well you see its actually not going to be available to see until the end of the week..” Customer: “Um...is it even in running condition? Maybe I can just go to the shop to look at it, the end of the week is far away.” Me: “Oh well, it is running yes...except the engine is being taken apart to work on the cylinder head...so right now it doesn’t run per-say…” Customer: “Right, ok, well, don’t call me I’ll call you.”

Right.

Thus, the month long Prado selling saga continues. In the midst of all of this however I think I have actually found someone who seems genuinely interested in buying the Prado. It is still having the cylinder head fixed but should be ready on Thursday and the potential purchaser is willing to wait to look at it once the repairs are made and make an offer on Thursday. Fingers crossed that the saga ends here and that come Thursday the Prado will have found its new owner and I can get back to Meheba.

There have been some perks of being in Lusaka though. I have a lot of friends here which is nice, and in the time I’ve been here I was able to star in a Zambian music video being filmed for MTV South Africa. “She’s So Fresh” is the song and I’m the rap star’s “main squeeze” (in my words) that walks into the club and turns all the heads. Oh yeah, I’m so fresh, better than the rest, best girl in the club tonight. :P Not half bad if I do say so myself...and yes, as soon as I have a copy of the music video, you will have the youtube link. Any MAYBE if you are nice to me, I’ll even give you an autograph...

So you see, I believe my excuses are valid. Well, except the dog and homework bit...but really, when has that ever worked?

Jeremy's Account

Jeremy has an awesome post about recent events that I couldn't write any better if I tried...and well, I haven't really tried because lets face it I'm lazy...and my computer broke, so now it only works when its plugged in which means no working past 5pm when the solar power gives out, and even during the day we don't really have enough power to run a computer all day and charge Jeremy's, soooo I haven't had a chance to write my own blog this week. Sorry. But I promise you won't be disappointed with his.

With the recent outbreak of violence in Meheba, FORGE decided it would be best for me to spend the past week in Lusaka, staying away from the conflict, and meeting with people here to assess the situation. Jess was already scheduled to be in Lusaka to do work with the University students for a week, so it was convenient I accompany her. It has been an interesting week. I feel like I’ve gained a much better appreciation for the city, had some fun with friends, been to productive meetings, and survived the ride from hell to get here.

I’ll admit, I wasn’t excited about the prospect of spending a week in Lusaka. True, Lusaka has just about everything Meheba doesn’t, good food, a movie theatre, showers and internet, but it is also a long, painful bus ride from Solwezi. I was excited to learn though that Jess had organized herself a ride to Lusaka, leaving at 7am the next day, and that the guy was happy to take me as well.

At 7 Jess and I show up to the royal, bags packed, ready for the ride. If we made good time, we should arrive in Lusaka around 4pm, time to grab a shower and get ready for dinner with friends. By 8am we were a bit worried, as our ride hadn’t showed up. At 930 he stumbled over to our couch, clearly feeling the effects of a long night of partying the previous evening. “We’re leaving now” he said, “just have to get my money”. I’ve been here long enough to know when someone tells you something is happening ‘now’ it means anytime between right now (highly unlikely) and next week. I settled in for a long wait.

By 11 I was pretty annoyed. I had plans for dinner in Lusaka, and I didn’t want to waste the day sitting around the hotel. Our ride came back with bad news. He had lost his car keys. Well, he claimed they were stolen, but I’ll bet all my kwacha he lost them. “Its ok though” he grinned, “I’m a certified mechanic- I’ll hotwire it”. Jess walked out to the car to watch him hotwire his own vehicle, I decided it was something I didn’t need to see. 10 minutes later Jess came back, impressed. The car was running, ready to go. He just needed his money, a paycheck from the hotel. I slumped down in my chair, ready for another long wait.

At 1 our driver came back, clearly annoyed. His boss had gotten wind of his hotwire scheme and decided it wasn’t safe for him (or the company car) to travel so far without an ignition. So he had to go to town to buy a new ignition. This is something in the States that I just wouldn’t have guessed. The option of going to the hardware store and buying a new ignition just isn’t within my realm of understanding. Worst, the ignition cost k 60,000 (a bit more than $11). Something told me this would be a problem on the road.

At 3pm we finally left. Our driver’s boss came up to him with an envelope of cash and a huge grin on his face. The driver opened the envelope to find k 3,000,000, nice pay for a vacation. The catch was, he was paid in k 5,000 bills. My calculator tells me that’s about 1,667 bills. Personally, I thought it was a funny gesture, the driver did not agree. We walked out of the hotel and over to his vehicle, a Land Rover Defender. The Defender is a safari vehicle, great for rides in the bush but not built for comfort. There are two seats and a long bench in the back. For the beginning of the trip I drew the bench, and armed with a pillow and blanket, I settled in for the ride.

To cut a long story short we got to Lusaka at 4am. About 10 hours in, the battery on the car died and Jess and I had to perform a push start, an impressive feat for two sleepy Americans and one 3 ton truck. I felt like I’d been put through a washing machine after laying in the bed of the truck all day and couldn’t wait to get to the FORGE flat to rest. We took a cab to the house, or at least as close as possible. With the onslaught of rainy season the road to the house had been flooded. And I mean hurricane flooded. It is almost possible to canoe from our house to the main road (I’m only exaggerating a tiny bit).

The next day I had a meeting with UNHCR to discuss the incident in Meheba and how to move forward. Sitting with two of the top ranking HCR officials I had an amazing meeting as we all struggled to figure out how Meheba can come together again after this awful incident. After a few hours we put together a small plan, and the UN asked if FORGE would help lead the program. I was blown away. The UN was asking for my help! I left the meeting full of ideas, itching to get back to Meheba. I was even offered a ride back to the camp, on Sunday, meaning no bus! Day couldn’t have been better.

But when I pitched the idea to FORGE they dismissed it. They didn’t want me back in Meheba yet, and they certainly didn’t want me publically involved with the UN’s reconciliation efforts. In their minds, I’m not qualified, not having gone through any trainings on the subject and FORGE is politically neutral, and we didn’t want to change that fact in the camp. I was furious. Here I was, being offered the opportunity to help put the camp and the community back together after this awful event, and it was turned down. I fumed for a day or two, but it has slowly dawned on me that staying out of this process is the best way forward. As many people have reminded me, this is a community that is doubtlessly upset and angry. FORGE works very hard to cultivate a great relationship with the community, and we work in development, not dialogue. We would not want to jeopardize our projects, our community status or our physical safety to be involved in something like this. I can now say, having had a few days to think about it, that I’m happy with the decision from the Oakland office, and while it would have been amazing to help the UN, its best to help by doing what I’m good at, staying within Forge’s boundaries.

The rest of my time in Lusaka has been pretty uneventful. I’ve spent a lot of time with friends, gone to some pretty amazing (well, amazing for Zambia) restaurants, seen a pretty terrible movie, and generally done my best to stay occupied and not thinking about Meheba. I head back on the bus tomorrow and I can’t wait to get back home. I’m scared to see how the violence has changed the community, scared to see that nothing has changed at all. I feel bad for spending so much time outside of the camp. I feel like FORGE staff needed our presence, and while, for safety reasons, it made sense not to be there, there is a part of me that feels bad for running away. I can’t wait for Thursday, to get back on my bike, ride down to road 36 and be with my friends and the Meheba community.

p.s. you can read about the violence here: http://allafrica.com/stories/201002250146.html

Bon Jovi Day

We’re half way there, whoah, living on a prayer!!! Thats right folks, I’m officially halfway through my contract here with FORGE, and what a mixed bag of emotions THAT is! For obvious reasons we dubbed our half way point Bon Jovi Day and set out to make it memorable.

To commemorate Bon Jovi Day we made breakfast burritos in the morning (one of our recent specialties where we stuff handmade tortillas with homemade refried beans, toss in some fried onions and eggs and grill over coals to perfection) and ate chocolate chip cookies for dinner. (Who said you have to be a grown up?) We popped open a bottle of champagne (which took a fair bit of planning to procure in Solwezi ahead of time) and listened to four different versions of Living On A Prayer, each as equally wonderful as the next.

On this particular Day O Bon Jovi we had no shortage of topics to reflect on. The past seven months have been an adventure wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a handmade tortilla and skewered with a toothpick. Ok thats a bit much...we clearly don’t have toothpicks out here. But is has been a regular roller coaster ride of emotions punctuated by events I never really thought I’d have the chance to be a part of. On top of the things I’ve reported to you here, there’s been a lot going on in the camp recently that I can’t really expand upon in a public blog. Life in Meheba pushes you in ways you never thought possible; there are days I feel far beyond my 23 years and days I feel like a child playing at someone else’s job. Life here seems to be full of contradictions, but each situation never lessens the legitimacy of its opposite.

In the seven months I’ve been here, I’ve seen women learn skills to feed their families and send their children to school. I’ve also seen women become needless victims of domestic violence. I’ve seen FORGE sponsored students graduate from high school and get jobs and even a scholarship to university. I’ve also seen girls get pregnant, drop out of school to get married and never finish their education. I’ve seen mothers learn about nutrition through our health projects that then help their malnourished children receive the care they need. I’ve held six month old children who weigh less than some new borns. I’ve seen our preschools produce the top performing students at the primary schools. I’ve seen the funeral for a preschool child. I’ve seen farmers double their crop yield because of the fertilizer and seed loans they receive from FORGE. I’ve seen farmers loose their entire fields to flood. Most of all though, I’ve seen project coordinators step up and grow as leaders, creating goals and creative solutions to problems facing their projects. I see peaceful leaders who understand the value of diversity. These are just some of the things I’ve seen in seven months, and I’ve learned from all of them. I truly believe the work FORGE does here is changing lives and I’m so glad to be a part of it.

When I think about the people I’ve met over the past seven months I honestly can’t imagine my life without them (cliche I know). Its possible I’ll get a chance to see some people again, but I know the reality of the situation was best prophesied by the all knowing eight ball - outlook does not look good. One of the librarians who works for FORGE is possibly being resettled to Australia soon. If he gets resettled there I may have a chance to visit him later this year when my contract finishes. They told him his group could be going as early as next week, though we’re still waiting on some results. Australia is notoriously picky with their medical inspections and so he’s gone for a second round of dental checks. As I learned with a previous FORGE employee, nothing is ever certain until they’re on the plane. I wrote about a man who was supposed to be resettled to Canada when we first arrived here. I had hopes he’d be resettled to French speaking Canada and that I’d get to visit him some time on a trip back to Montreal. Days before he was supposed to leave they phoned and told him they were pulling his resettlement. When it comes to resettlement, holding one’s breath is not advisable. So perhaps I’ll see my librarian in Australia, and perhaps I won’t. Perhaps I’ll make it back to Meheba some day, and perhaps I won’t. Of course, I hope that by the time I get the chance to make it back all my friends will have found other opportunities and gotten out. A refugee camp is many things, but its not a place to find opportunity. I hope the people I work with will take their skills and go back to their home countries and help rebuild them or that they will have found permanent asylum somewhere else. I’m telling all my Angolan staff to go back to Angola! Get out! Go make real money in a country that is seeing real growth!! One former FORGE employee repatriated to Angola and with the skills he learned here got an awesome job with a land-mine removal NGO. He’s doing awesome work to help his country AND getting paid a seriously pretty penny to do it. Lets just say I’d take his salary...ok right now I’d take any salary, but really, he’s getting paid well. Its not easy to find the courage to leave everything behind in Meheba and start over in a country you haven’t seen in twenty years, or ever for that matter, but I hope that with the skills people learn here more people will find that courage and make that transition.

Sooooo, while its hard to imagine I’ve been here for seven months, its even harder to imagine I’m leaving in seven. I love it here. Sure there are days I want to go home, but then there are days when I realize that Meheba is home...sort of...I mean, we’ve got to hold on to what we’ve got...

fish tales part two

After gorging ourselves on gelato, pizza and pasta we waved ciao to Malindi and headed out to another eco lodge on the way to Mombasa. We had high hopes, but while it was nice and peaceful, it was no Abdul’s Eco Nest, so we headed on after only one night. We had friends from the hostel in Nairobi that were waiting for us on Tiwi beach just south of Mombasa to spend Christmas together. We had heard stories of Mombasa beaches just being places where women get hassled alot, but we heard you could avoid a lot of that by heading south. We jumped in a mtatu (mini bus) and spent the next cramped few hours sailing past fields of pineapple. When we finally arrived in Mombasa we jumped in a tuk-tuk and headed straight for the ferry, stopping only to secure bus tickets for our trek to Dar Es Salaam later that week.

Upon arriving in Tiwi beach we were struck by how white the sand was and how beautiful and private the hotel was. There were even monkeys crawling around the hotel grounds. For $10 a night you really couldn’t ask for a better view. We found our friends and headed to the beach. I’m happy to report that the hassle level was very low on this stretch of beach and the water temperature was just right. We made friends with people from all over the world that night, from Kenya, the UK, Israel, the States, Germany, and Australia. While we all had different reasons for being away from our homes and families this year, we all agreed that this wasn’t a half bad place to spend Christmas.

On Christmas eve we took a walk down the beach to a small restaurant that prepared a private dinner for our group of friends. Delicious King Fish, coconut rice, octopus, and vegetables were served up family style under the stars as the tide rolled in. No one had any Christmas music with them so we chose to make our own chorus, singing at the top of our lungs whatever bits of carols we could recall. Turns out Grandma Got Run-over By a Reindeer is not the international sensation I thought it was, but I’m taking it around the world and spreading the love…

The next day on Christmas morning Sara and I decided that for Christmas we would buy each other massages. Excellent decision. We went into town in the afternoon to get some supplies for our bus ride the next morning and were pleasantly surprised to find yet more gelato. As it was lunch time we decided our tradition needn't be left in Malindi and indulged. We headed back to the hotel to spend some time with the friends we’d made and enjoy our last evening in Kenya. We went for a dip in the Indian Ocean that night which was a wonderful way to close out Christmas 2009. We squinted at the sands and smiled at our white Christmas.

Onto a bus and across the boarder we went, down through the winding hills of northern Tanzania. We saw a few baboons along the way and marveled at how green and lush this part of the country was. After about 12 hours we finally reached Dar Es Salaam. For two years I had been looking forward to going again to Addis in Dar, an Ethiopian restaurant I fell in love with the last time I was in Dar, but was sorely disappointed to find that it was closed for the holidays. Next time...instead I got to meet up with a friend I had made in 2007 while I was volunteering in Tanzania. She and her sister met us for dinner and it was such a delight to reunite!

The next morning we hopped on the ferry to Zanzibar!! Contrary to popular culture, you can not actually get to Zanzibar by motor car. The ferry dropped us in Stonetown and it was every bit as enchanting as I remembered it: narrow cobbled streets and spices in the air. We took the day to tour around town and found ourselves at several of my favorite places from the last trip.

We went to Freddy Mercury’s for cocktails and met an Australian couple and an American guy who were keen to join us for the fish market that night. The fish market is an experience. Every type of fish you can imagine is being caught in front of you and skewered and barbecued for your enjoyment. King fish, barracuda, red snapper, octopus, squid...the list goes on!! I put on my best haggling hat and got us some pretty awesome deals. The guy working behind the table also offered to organize some drinks for us, so I paid him and we ate our fish and waited for the drinks. And waited. And waited. And then we found he was nowhere to be found. This didn’t sit well with me and I went up to the other man behind the table and asked for my money back for the drinks that never came. He argued with me and said the other man didn’t really work for him but was just helping out and that it was this other guy who took off with my money and wasn’t his responsibility. Those of you who know me know that I can be a bit...stubborn. Especially when my sense of right and wrong has been offended, and this situation offended my sense of justice. I stood and argued with the guy for a good thirty minutes until other merchants started taking notice and coming over to see what was the ruckus. And then something beautiful happened. Organically a leader emerged and asked for my side of the story, then allowed the man to give his side of the story, then discussed it with the other merchants and came to the conclusion that the man should give me my money back. Just like that the man accepted the decision of the group and repaid me. It was really amazing to see this sort of group of merchants come together and create an impromptu council and decide the matter. I was impressed!!!

After this we headed up the coast and booked a room on Kedwa Beach. This is hands down the most beautiful beach I have ever seen. Easy. The place we were staying, Kedwa Rocks, was aammmaaaaaazing. We met up with the Australian couple again and soon made friends with some South African guys and commandeered a ship to become real pirates. Er, well, it was a stationary ship on the sand that actually was a beach bed to relax on, but we were real pirates.Kind of. We hung out for four days and basically did nothing but soak up sun during the day and dance away the nights. It was glorious.

One of our South African friend’s, Dave’s, dad owned a lodge on the main land and was bringing over some guests for the “Big Party Ever” (the New Year’s Eve party at Kendwa Rocks that was literally advertised everywhere as the Big Party Ever). On the way over they caught a 20 kilo yellow fin tuna. Dave’s dad insisted that we just gut it and slice it open on the beach and enjoy sashimi with lime. How can you argue against the freshest sashimi you’ve ever had?? We sliced it open and dug in like savages. I have never had such delicious fish in my life. MMMMMmmmmmmm.

That night we washed the fish guts off and cleaned up (quite nicely I think) for the big party ever. And boy was it. Turns out about 2,500 people showed up to big party ever. It was a full moon and Kendwa is known for their full moon parties in general, so this one was amazing. There was one tiny hickup in the middle when some genius let off a can of tear gas….took me a minute to figure out while all the sudden people were running for the ocean and my eyes were stinging. Teargassed on new years eve, can check that one off my list!! It took them only a couple of minutes to clear everything and within minutes everyone was back on the dance floor as if nothing had happened.

We stayed up all night, caught a taxi the next morning to the ferry, took the ferry to the mainland, caught a taxi to the train station and hopped a train to Zambia. Well, a 52 hour train to Zambia. I would recommend doing this train ride at some point. Its really beautiful and you go through a game reserve in Tanzania so you get to see animals from the window. I saw lots of impala and some warthogs. Apparently the other side of the train also saw some giraffes, but I missed it. We met interesting people, played a lot of cards, and read a lot of books. Train travel is definitely the way to go.

And so finally, we arrived back in Zambia. It was an amazing vacation full of lots of adventure and even more memories. But if the last six months are any indication, new adventures aren’t far off…

So Long Indian Ocean, and Thanks For All The Fish

Hello faithful fans and readers. Or perhaps I’m flattering myself and its just faithful readers...in any event, I’m back! I apologize for the long hiatus, but everyone deserves a vacation, right? I’m sure you were all too busy enjoying time with your families and bundling up in front of fires with hot cocoa to really miss my blog all that much. At least I hope you were.

I had a white Christmas of sorts this year, if you count beautiful white sand beaches. If you squinted it almost looked like snow, and with the hot sun blazing above and the loss of my favorite pair of sunglasses, there was a considerable amount of squinting.

Sara and I had an amazing three week vacation, even if it had an inauspicious beginning. We made it to the airport a bit late to catch our flight to Ethiopia for the evening, and found that we had just missed the final boarding call even though we were 45 minutes early and the airport only has one gate. I’m pretty sure this is the first flight I’ve missed, and hopefully its the last. We had to spend an extra evening in Lusaka and start our vacation a day late. This meant no layover in Ethiopia and it put us in Nairobi a day late to catch the train to Mombassa. All and all though, it turned out to be a good thing. While I would have loved to have some time to leave the airport in Ethiopia, it was nice having a day in Nairobi to spend with my friend Paul who was vacationing there from the UK. Paul and I met in Peru and have now met up on three separate continents and I was grateful for the time to see him. We also ran into a guy at the hostel who told us about Abdul’s Eco Nest on Lamu Island, which ended up being the best suggestion we had the whole trip.

In the 24 hours we were in Nairobi we were pulled over by the police in our cab and asked for a bribe, ditched on the side of the road by a mini bus who decided not to drive any farther into town because he was afraid of the police that were out checking for papers, and told by a cab driver that it was too dangerous to get out of the cab and walk just one block to the bus station at night. Nairobi had its charm but I wasn’t sad to see it in the rearview mirror.

We took an overnight bus from Nairobi to Mombassa and then a 6am bus straight up the coast to Lamu. As we were getting on the bus to Lamu, Sara leaned over and told me not to be alarmed if guards armed with AK47s boarded our bus at some point and escorted it to Lamu. Apparently in the past this particular road was having some issues with pesky Somali bandits crossing the boarder and attacking buses. Sara knew of this before, but chose this strategic moment of no return to inform me. What are friends for, eh? Meh, I’m always up for an adventure, so we boarded our bus and headed north. Several hours in, armed guards did in fact board the bus, but it wasn’t nearly what I expected. By this point our bus had loaded so many passengers that there was literally an old woman AND her grandchild sitting in my lap. A couple of feet away there was a woman holding a chicken, and when I glanced over at the guards I realized that they were holding AKs in one hand and babies in the other. I love Africa.

After our crowded but (thankfully) uneventful bus ride, we reached the ferry to Lamu. As I mentioned in previous posts, Lamu is an island where the only modes of transport are boats and donkeys. There are only three vehicles on the whole island: a car belonging to the top ministry official, an ambulance for people, and an ambulance for donkeys. When we got off the boat we heard people saying “welcome to paradise,” which we at first scoffed at as tourist talk but later came to realize was actually quite an accurate description and a sentiment shared by locals and tourists alike. Not that there were all that many tourists honestly. In fact, when we headed down to the beach, we realized that miles of deserted white sand beaches awaited us. Save for the couple of tourists and the meandering camels, we really were on our own little piece of deserted paradise.


As I mentioned earlier, we had received a recommendation from a guy at our hostel in Nairobi to stay at Abdul’s Eco Nest. When we first arrived we were so tired we just posted up at the first hostel we saw. The next day we decided to seek out Abdul’s for dinner as we heard he was an amazing chef, but had no intention of shifting our bags as we were only scheduled to be in Lamu one more night. However, when we showed up we instantly fell in love with the Eco Nest. Small bandas on stilts awaited us along with delicious coconut shrimp, coconut rice, and homemade ginger chai. To make a long story...less long….we went just for dinner and ended up staying an extra three days. In these three days I ate like a king with shrimp, crab, and even an 8.5 kilo red snapper prepared for the group of us staying there. It was amazing.



Finally we pried ourselves away from Lamu and headed to Malindi where pizza, pasta and gelato awaited us. Malindi is referred to as "Little Italy" in Kenya, and its painfully obvious why. Restaurants had menus printed only in Italian, little children ran by yelling "ciao!" and everyone tried to speak to us in Italian. At one point we sat down for dinner and our waiter said with a puzzled look, “you speak English very well...” It was a high point. The beaches in Malindi were nothing to write home about, but I ate gelato for lunch every day and pizza for dinner, so I was pleased :)

Check back for the next post chronicling Christmas in Mombasa and New Years on Zanzibar. I'll even throw in the 52 hour train ride home!!