one sweet world

another real winter

2011-12-04T21:26:00.001-08:00

The lake is beginning to freeze. Last Thursday the edges started getting icy; I saw it when I drove to work in the morning. By Saturday, the little inlets and streams were frozen. Today, Sunday, I see large sections of the lake from my apartment window which have no waves. It is incredible. I remember my first real winter, in Philadelphia, I was introduced to the concept of full time snow plows, and frozen streams. Seriously blew my mind. But a lake. A giant lake FROZEN.

There are some budding roses outside my window, frozen solid. If you don't touch them you could imagine it is just now early summer. Moving to a new house here, when you are hardly ever home from work to do a proper look-around, a great way to quickly find the sunniest spots in your yard is to try to plant daffodil bulbs. The places that don't get enough sun will be frozen. :0)

I held a new volunteer orientation last week. I'm really excited, it's a great group, albeit small, of very interesting and helpful people. Community relationships with our organization are being repaired and improved, though slowly.

the long awaited and strived for.

2011-11-05T21:02:00.000-07:00

I got a new job! A salaried job! A job that will utilize my education and express my interests and passions! I am now the readiness specialist for 3 counties in Oregon, tasked with liaising, teaching and recruiting for American Red Cross disaster services.

It felt so good to put in my resignation at TNF! My last day was Saturday. I began training with the Red Cross on Monday. I LOVE IT. The more I learned about my job the more excited I became to start it! But here are the most interesting parts about it:
my three counties span rural southeastern Oregon. They are the biggest in the state, though perhaps the least populated as well. I was required to relocate to the biggest of the towns here, Klamath Falls, which boasted a whopping 20000 people in the last census. There is a great old A. Red Cross office building a couple blocks from Main St. which will house my office. But I am the only staff person in the building! I arrived in K. Falls today (warmly welcomed with two inches of snow! WHAT!!) and drove past the office. There is a very friendly CLOSED sign on the front porch of a giant white house. I should be getting an office key and a computer by Wednesday. In the meantime, I am searching for a place to comfortably hibernate through winter. Its been an interesting process in a town that has a 15% unemployment rate and san francisco sized hills with snow.

It meant something to that one...

2011-09-13T08:01:00.000-07:00

You know that old story about the kid who tries to save all the starfish who washed up on the beach? The naysayer says you can never make a difference to all of them but the kid says, as he tosses one in the water- I made a difference to that one.

This is day two of being stuck in a FEMA application center. We have a table nearby and if we are lucky we get to offer cleaning supplies and pamphlets. But day 14 after hurricane irene and most people are back to work on a tuesday. We might see 2 people every hour.

I was feeling a little bored and annoyed that they are wasting able bodies in this fashion. Theres so much need all around me and we seem to be barely skimming the surface waiting for people to come to us.

But i just talked with a 70 year old man who began crying when I asked him to tell me about the damage. And the next woman was robbed by the people who came to clean out her damaged house. There still isnt much I can do but listen, look at pictures and offer suggestions of who to call for supplies other than those we hand them on their way out. The emotion is running really high in this room. Im not really sure i made a difference to anyone yet, but im trying.

stories from cranford new jersey

2011-09-11T14:34:00.001-07:00

I spoke with a woman today who was left by her husband, with two handicapped children and a teenager to take care of. She told me she just begun to feel stronger and more resilient. And then her basement and first floor flooded. She works night shifts as a nurse and now she is trying to figure out where to begin with fema and clean up.

Another woman broke down crying when she tried to thank us for the food our trucks are providing each day. Its the first day in 2 weeks where she and her husband dont have something with the house they have to be doing. We found her sitting eating yogurt in what she called "my new kitchen" on the front lawn.

Then a man invited us into his home- he and his family moved back in about a week ago. They had a fishtank for a basement and six inches of water into their first floor. Their basement walls and ceiling are now covered with black mold. Meanwhile his wife has terminal lung cancer which has just spread to the bone marrow. She shouldnt be in this house.

The mood definitely feels different today. People are in the waiting stages. And the extent of their losses sets in. They wait for their answers from insurance, from FEMA. They wait for new water heaters and new contractors. They wait for the city dump trucks amd tractors to take their piles of belongings from the curb. They wait for the weather report to tell them its the end of hurricane season.

Disaster Relief Operation 765-12

2011-09-07T18:48:00.000-07:00

My first day in the field was postponed. Apparently someone recommended me as a computer genius to the the new manager based on my ability to format excel pages for printing. Thus I served as assistant to the head boss for a couple of days in the office. It would have been okay but there wasn't enough work to be done! I was only busy about 15 minutes every hour. The inside operation is an interesting sight to behold however. Chaotic. And yet somehow functional.

Yesterday I was granted the opportunity to leave the office work behind and get out in the streets of new jersey to talk to people. I was sent with a team of 4 others to a town called Cranford. The damage there is incredible. Butreally hard to comprehend because the 7 feet of water that swept the neighborhood receded within 18 hours. Now, 11 days later, there are rubbish piles that could fill a living room sitting in each yard. All of the stuff that was touched by the flood water, which was a combination of river water, sewage from all the lines that broke and oil from backyard heating tanks, is waiting on the curb to be picked up by the city tractors slowly making their way through town. Meanwhile it starting to mold and the rain keeps falling. There are no visible river banks.

Our assignment is to go door to door to see if people need anything: a safe place to sleep (some houses are condemned) clothes to wear and food to eat. We are helping them find community resources to clean up and open up cases with fema.

Ill write you some neighborhood stories tomorrow.

The first deployment

2011-09-03T19:30:00.000-07:00

I really never thought i would say these words: im being deployed. But through a series of curious events thats exactly what happened. I am on my first deployment with American Red Cross disaster services. After a long day of traveling i landed in philly at midnight last night and was picked up at the airport by my 3 dear friends melissa, victoria and shirley. Wow. What troopers! I spent a short night in the hotel, then headed out to pick up my rental car. Note for next time- find out who is supposed to give you your confirmation number ahead of time. A short 1.5 hour drive later i was at red cross headquarters in tinton falls, new jersey. There wasnt a lot for me to do today except watch everyone else be busy and the occasional help somebodys grandma make an excel spread sheet. After all the tedious and funny steps of being processed in to HQ, i watched 3 other new arrivals to my section (client casework) go through the same process. About 6 hours after i arrived they told our new little group to pack up and head out to princeton. so here i am, in a killer regency hyatt hotel complete with indian wedding in the lobby and ballroom. (ill enjoy it while i can- next stop will most likely be my own cot in a gymnasium shelter..) Tomorrow we report to our new supervisor at 8 am. Im excited! But im also really curious. So far i have seen zero damage from the hurricane. In fact im thouroughly impressed by princeton, which is not something i thought i would say about a town in new jersey :0) wonder what we will see and do tomorrow?

Its always sunny on Mondays

2011-07-20T19:43:00.000-07:00

As I'm more nearly finished with my immersion experience in Quebec City, I thought I could spare a few moments to update my blog. Until now I felt guilty for using English. BUT, I feel Im progressing well enough now that a 20 minute break won't kill me.

Quebec city is wonderful. People here are unbelievably polite and helpful. The bus drivers says bonjour and merci to EVERY person and total strangers will make change for you or accompany you somewhere if you find yourself lost. The city is a dream for people who like summer festivities. There are international firework competitions, weeks of free outdoor concerts, and free admission to an outdoor cirque de soleil show every night! (did you know they started here in quebec city?)

Also, they have this meal here that I have really fallen in love with: poutine. Its made using the heavenly combination of fries, Gouda and gravy. Maybe while I search for a job i can work on getting a poutine franchise to open in Oregon.

old quebec, or vieux quebec as its said here, is bursting at the brim with history and culture. The license plates here say "je me souviens"- which translate to "I remember". It seems to really fit here- people know the history well here, and they cherish it. One of my favorite things in the old city is a particular tree, which everyone slows down to look at because the people walking in front of them did the same. When you look closely, there is a cannonball enclosed in the tree roots! Its great because its not a destination spot, but more of a happenstance.

I have been having a lot of fun attempting to talk to strangers in french. The elders here and the teenagers are the most difficult to understand, but the easiest to approach. I really get excited to practice, and I have lately caught myself thinking in french! I really love it.

the strawberries here taste like oregon strawberries, and you are encouraged, if not expected, to pour maple syrup on everything (weirdest 4th of july strawberry shortcake ever).

its been quite hot here, like it has for all you folks on the east coast. no one here has air conditioning so the houses are a whopping 100 degrees by the time you go to bed. it rains nearly once a day tuesday through sunday (often accompanied by thunder and lightning) but there is always too much wind to use an umbrella. So far its always sunny on Mondays.

okay my 20 minutes are up. back to the french "grammar exercises" (cartoons on youtube!)

Want to see more pictures?

A Life Selling Coats

2011-03-09T15:26:00.001-08:00

I have been working at a north face outlet store selling outdoor gear to the masses at a discount price. Its been a humbling experience as I, along with a large percentage of people in the midst of the world economic crisis, work at a job I am overqualified for :0).

There are a few things keeping me sane during the process of pretending I'm a salesperson.

I have been able to sell coats (and shoes, gloves, backpacks and hats) to people from all over the world. Somehow our outlet mall has become a huge Oregon tourist attraction (which is ridiculous considering how many beautiful things there are to see in Oregon!!) So I have taken up the pastime of learning to recognize accents.

I recognized a Spanish accent once, and discovered that the couple was from Valencia, Spain. They were pretty surprised to hear I had visited their town during the Las Fallas festival last year, and I helped them pick out shoes for their grandfather, strangely allowing me to walk the streets of Valencia once again.

The French and German accents are getting easier to pick up. And people always seem to like hearing your connection to where they are from. I like to imagine it makes the world seem smaller for us all. A German couple from Stuttgart was excited to hear I had seen Stuttgart play in a champions league game last year. The Irish accents are fun to hear too. Rach, you would be proud of me, I am still 100% able to distinguish a Dubliner family from a southern Irish family.

And my newest pleasure, is checking people's photo id for a sale. Then, even if they have managed to cover up their accent, you discover they are from China or Norway or Texas!

Finally, there are the locals I get to talk to who are prepping for trips abroad. I helped a lady find a coat to watch the Iditarod sled race and a man find a backpack for a school building trip to Liberia. I found coats for students moving to the east coast to start college and fleeces for backpacking Europe trips. Warm things for an American woman living for 14 years in Mongolia (though nothing in our store could compare to her long mink coat!!!) and a sleeping bag for a man who has been contracted by an American corporation to work in Afghanistan.

These are the people and the stories that make my current days selling coats much more joyous.

election update

2010-11-06T01:13:00.000-07:00

A week after the elctions, the results have all been announced. Some of the opposition parties managed to get parliament positions in the major cities, such as Dar and Arusha. The presidential race wasnt announced until last night in Dar, echoed by gunshots in Arusha. The incumbent Kikwete took 60% of the votes and was pronounced victorious. However, his main rival Dr. Slaa does not accept the victory as legitimate, purporting that the election has been rigged. Talking to some folks here in Arusha, its clear people are really excited about the shift in power within parliament. And yet, at least in Arusha, people seem pretty resigned to the status quo of the current president. Lets see if Dr. Slaa has anything up his sleeve.

From a New Vantage Point: the ACCUSED

2010-10-27T03:24:00.000-07:00

Callixte Kalimanzira was read his second, and final judgment last week at the ICTR. Take a second to consider the accusations against this man. In 2008 he was sentenced to 30 years in prison for charges of genocide and public incitement to genocide. What could a man like this look like?? I ask you to imagine someone's grandfather, with a polite smile on his face and a hearty laugh when the defense team (including two people I greatly admire) greets him. I watched from the public viewing room as they embraced like old friends. Looking behind me, I see his family waiting anxiously to hear the verdict. They sat through this process once two years ago, the wife already looks traumatized enough. Now they wait for his last chance at a fair hearing.

There had been rumors circulating that his sentence would be greatly reduced this second and final time around, based on the errors found in the law of his previous judgment. So we sat to hear the decision of the appeals judges. In the chair next to me sat a man who is known as one of the engineers of the genocide. He recently sat in the same seat as Kalimanzira, and was freed based on his appeal. He, no doubt, was waiting to celebrate with his friend after the judgment.

For about thirty minutes a judge from Israel read us the findings of the appeals chamber. They granted many of the motions to appeal (things like insufficient evidence, unreliable witness, etc.) and dismissed the motions from prosecution to extend the sentence to life. (Mind you, this judge from Israel is a survivor of a Holocaust work camp, and he is now leading a jury to consider acquitting (setting free) a man accused of genocide.)

They come to the end of the judgment, Kalimanzira's face is solemn as the judge says something to the extent of, based on the granting of several of your appeal motions, we will substantially lower your sentence. Everyone takes a deep breath. From 30 years to 25.

I felt the weight of this mans burden, and his family's burden in the room. Heavy. Suffocating. But then it was time for lunch.

Can you imagine, now, the importance of a fair trial? If this was you and your family waiting, anticipating your last chance for freedom and vindication, how would you feel about the priceless and yet sometimes trite principal of "innocent until proven guilty?"

[a note: genocide is a very serious crime. proving that someone has partaken in such a horrific thing is likewise a very serious task. I hope that no one will ever take these things lightly. But what is the difference between the man in the chair next to me who was released, and the man that will now serve 25 years in a third world prison? A better lawyer? Does it matter that the man who was released is rumored to have committed worse crimes? watching the practice of law from the side of the defense was quite unsettling. At the very least it reminded me that law is a practice. And law might rarely equal justice.]

as the elections draw closer

2010-10-19T07:45:00.000-07:00

The Tanzanian presidential elections are set to take place October 31. In preparation, there are party flags everywhere, on the back of cars and bicycles, on the roadside, on restaurants. Lately I have seen several people wearing flags, genius idea really, as a flag becomes a jogging jacket. Along with the flags there are political events everywhere, from roadside cafes to the corners of villages, even the chairs boast the colors of the party. But the best advertising tool seems to be the "party truck". It drives up and down every street in Arusha all day long, blasting music and showcasing dancers to promote the candidate. The idea seems to be that the loudest campaign wins, which is easy for Kikwete- the current president to pull off. He is the head of the party which has essentially held power, and therefore money, in Tanzania since the country's independence. Despite the annoyance of the lack of noise regulation regarding the campaign, I am really impressed with one thing: the general peace that comes with it.

To give you an example, Johann and I were driving through a village the other day when we got stuck between a demonstration of the opposing parties. Demonstrating the financial disparity, Kikwete's supporters were on our right side driving and honking a little ditty to cheer the president on, while the opposition group was on foot to our left giving an old-fashioned thumbs-down and a few boos here and there. It struck me how much it was like being outside a stadium before a college ball game. Many other places in Africa, or in the developing world over, political dissent results in violence. Those who are against us are dead. And yet here I am, in a country where the freedom of elections is arguable and people are peaceably demonstrating their views. Kudos to Tanzania. Seriously. Big kudos.

Meanwhile, the US general elections draw closer. Despite the strangeness of receiving and sending my ballot by fax, I have to say that I am quite glad to be missing out on the dirty campaign going on in the states. Its a sad election when you must campaign on the failures of your opponent. In the midst of all our chaos and current problems, the US could stand to learn something from Tanzania in this sense. Lets put some music on (though perhaps respecting the noise ordinances) and remember the joys of life.

from doctor visit to animal sightings

2010-10-10T00:54:00.000-07:00

After being sick for about three weeks I sucked it up and went to see Dr. Mohammed. I took a taxi to the office, a little nervous at the prospect of seeing ANY doctor, let alone one in Tanzania. What would this be like??? At first I was both relieved and appalled that I was ushered into a private waiting room ahead of about 30 coughing Tanzanians. (Perhaps it was because I called the doctors cell phone the day before for an appointment? can you imagine having your doctors cell phone number?) Next I was ushered into the doctors room. It was split in half with a white hanging sheet, on one side I sat while a nurse took my blood pressure, on the other side the doctor was sitting with a family and a coughing, crying child. I couldn't understand the conversation, as it was entirely in kiswahili. When it was my turn, he looked in my eyes, nose, throat and ears. Listened to me cough. Then said you probably have the flu, avoid dust (good luck with that here) and take the following medicines. huh.

I learned later that the system is designed to charge foreigners a bit more for the doctor consult, so the Tanzanians can go for almost free. Mind you, I only paid 20 US dollars for the consult AND four cold remedy medicines.

I saw a beautiful blue heron yesterday. And a car-flattened hedgehog. The hedgehog actually looked like someone had squished the koosh out of a koosh ball: still totally round but flat.

Other highlights of the week include: a run through a field of wheat and acacia trees, consulting with friends about the beginning of an orphanage in Arusha over sodas, a benefit theater production put on at the Arusha Hotel about bouncers in UK night clubs, and soccer training for Arusha kids with my buddy Alfred.

Okay, enough procrastinating. Back to research!

the job search and fever dreams

2010-09-28T12:08:00.000-07:00

Here I find myself two and a half weeks in to my Arusha return. In this short amount of time I am now on my second bout of flu/cold. (Apparently the three day process of my journey itself has weakened my immune system a tad, and my respiratory system finds the conditions of increased pollution, the European cheek kissing greeting style, dust swirled air conditioning systems, and cigarette and garbage-burning smoke a little difficult to deal with in this weakened state. Lame.) That said, bear with me if my writing is a little loopy :0)

Despite my obnoxious symptoms, however, I have also found a couple productive things to fill my time with. I am continuing research on piracy in East Africa (focus on Somalia of course) and writing a proposal for a future conference on this issue. Roland, our former professor at the university in Arusha, last week gave me the title "researcher" for the Nyerere Center for Peace Research. Though the title might be rather arbitrary, I can't tell you how nice it is to have an easy answer when someone asks, "what is your job?" You have to start somewhere, right? For the moment I feel so happy to be doing research on a topic that I love, and to some possible end even.

Besides this I am taking french classes at Alliance Francais. I tried two different beginning level classes, it seems the programs have lapsed a bit to cater to slower students, point being that there is a very large gap between the first level and the second level and not a clear spot for me. Both of my classes were made up of entirely Tanzanian students, and therefore taught in equal parts English, Kiswahili and French. Of course there are some cultural differences in learning languages that had to be addressed. It was kind of humorous when we spent twenty minutes on the issue of a last/family name. "No it is not the first name of your father or grandfather, but of your tribe or region". In the moment it was actually kind of embarrassing that I had no problem with this concept. So much for solidarity with my fellow classmates.

Last week I participated in a two-day conference put on by Arcadia University, on the rule of law within the UN. Not only was it at the Arusha Hotel, the only "5" star hotel in Arusha, it was an entirely fascinating group of people who gathered. We met with two judges of the year-old UN Dispute Tribunal in Nairobi. The registrar of this establishment, Jean-Pele Fomete, was also in attendance. It was a wonderful exchange of ideas, as we considered the aspirations and setbacks of this new tribunal, designed as an independent jury to ensure that staff of the UN have an avenue to seek justice for issues with their management. This is necessary because since the UN is not governed by any higher body, no court system is above it. And while the organization as a whole moves to promote an increase in rule of law, the same ideals must be upheld within the organization itself.

In sum, though I'm still technically "unemployed", I am definitely not lacking in opportunities. Last week at a big dinner with a random assortment of Arusha folk, a table discussion ensued about the current predicament of a man in attendance. The gist of his story is that his combination of ethnicity and passport often puts him on terrorist watch by countries like the UK and US. He is a doctor, and came to work for a hospital in Tanzania. However, the story goes that he ended up receiving way less than half of his pay from the Republic of Tanzania. He is looking for alternatives, but his passport is about to expire and he can't go home (others in his situation are often held and arrested in his home country upon returning- simply for being his ethnicity.) Hearing the details of his story I was completely amazed. I thought it was hard for ME to find a job. I'm grateful for that humble reminder.

A New Route

2010-09-28T02:37:00.000-07:00

About this time last year I described the walk between my home and school in Arusha. So I thought it might be a fair (re)orientation to start here once again, as I have a new walking route. This time, my path is between my french class and my apartment. It is a very short distance, in fact, much too short to bother with taxis. By the time I call a taxi and it arrives to pick me up, I could have already arrived at my destination twice by walking.

I exit the Alliance Francais compound, and cut through a beautiful open field with deeply etched ruts from foot and car traffic over the years. There are hills covered with light green trees behind and in front of me. I follow the path that connects to the main road where I continue on. Here there is a variety of traffic on a small two lane road: motor bike taxis, semi trucks, passenger cars, bicycles, and pedestrians. I pass a shop where there are often people sitting outside around tables (I havent figured out why yet- might be just for a soda break). After passing a preschool, I walk along a lovely roadside plant nursery boasting beautiful flowering plants in neat rows, their roots contained in plastic sacks. To my other side is a gas station and grocery store. I turn here, and on my left is a giant display of dirty stuffed animals for sale. Some of the zebras and frogs and rabbits and bears lay arranged on a tarp stretched out over the earth, while others hang from their ears from a clothes line above. Smart business placement, as there is a primary school only a few doors ahead which I will pass next. Then, a small house deemed "this and that", a gift and sandwich shop extraordinaire. This is where I take a toasted sandwich for just a few dollars after class. Next stop, the gate on the left, a complex of apartments, nail and hair salons, small grocery shop, and night club. This complex is genially referred to sometimes as one of Arusha's UN ghettos- its sister complex, in a rougher part of town, is ringed by high wall and barbed wire, stamped in block letters PPF NORTHERN ZONE. Of course, ghetto in this sense is reflective of grouping one type of people together as one done to the Jews in WW2, rather than the lack of socioeconomic status that lately defines the word.

This route is not drastically different than the one I walked before, just some of the details are different. A new school here, a new shop there. Its the same when people ask, "how are you liking Arusha the second time around??" There is a new experience here and a new friend there, but it is not so drastically different. I eat better now, I even enjoy cooking a little bit. I have internet in my apartment and a wicker chair on a terrace that overlooks a field and a small mountain and a hill with a dozen cell towers. I have access to a car sometimes, and a lot more time to myself. I realize, Arusha might seem the same for everyone here except me. As a broke student with connections, I have had the unique privilege of being somewhat socially mobile while most expats, and locals alike, do not get this experience. Its an interesting view from here, on the next path over.

are you getting somewhere?

2010-09-19T12:19:00.001-07:00

I have flown through Amsterdam 3 times, attempted to plan a city visit 3 times. And it finally worked! Good thing, since I was about to give up on Amsterdam entirely. Either the public transportation system is not as easy to navigate as they claim, or it is just that to be worthy to use the system you first have to endure a vigorous usage test. To be honest, I’m not sure that I passed with flying colors. I managed to get on the wrong train right off the bat (But the lady at the desk told me to get on the 9:41 am at spoor 1 or 2, which I DID.)

I met a funny girl from Glasgow in the chaos of navigating the trains. And for some reason all the people who spoke Spanish came to me for directions. That worked out REALLY well for them. Once we had managed to communicate that, yes indeed this was the train to central Amsterdam, some magic hand switched the electronic signs for the platform and all the passengers standing on one side migrated to the other. The Spanish speaking guy thought this was really funny.

Of course, I had managed to leave my raincoat in my checked bags, and the rain was coming down hard enough that I could hear it on the roof of the train station attached to the airport. No matter, Schippol international airport says, look we have an H & M full of umbrellas to purchase before you go out in that nasty weather! Funny, it was dry 30 minutes later when I walked out of the airport.

I walked through the different areas of the old town, more afraid of the millions of bicyclists than the piddly cars. I went through the old romanticized working class district- Jordaan; and the red light district. I found the Anne Frank house, but the line was around the block, so I put it on my “to do on next trip,” along with buy dutch tulips and cheese. I can’t believe how well I was able to get around for having only a map with five major street names. Granted I used the old-fashioned GPS system too; it takes about the same number of pointed index fingers to get to a place as it does steps on a new-fangled thing. I actually stumbled across the place I had planned to eat lunch because it was the most interesting building on a street. I felt like it was a bonus. Such a great old building, and inside I got to eat genuine Dutch farm cheese. MMM.

Last stop of the day: a canal tour. Learned a lot about the city while chatting with two women from Belfast. We peered into the windows of some of the city’s 2500 houseboats. We saw a diamond factory, a house that is only 1 and 1/2 meters wide, and house that were tipping and listing this way and that from their foundations sinking into the canals.

The town smells a lot like coffee, pancakes and cannabis. And everyone says hello first in Dutch, but when you respond with an ignorant “hi” they continue with you in English quite kindly. There are bikes EVERYWHERE. I didn’t see any car parking structures, but instead the two-story parking structures are for bikes. So advanced for people who give medieval brooms made of branches to their street sweepers.

and why not?

2010-09-08T22:49:00.000-07:00

It was pointed out to me over a wonderful dinner with a best friends' family that I have been slacking in the blog department.

Here is the quick update that I hope will suffice as my catch up, and spur me on to writing once again. My apologies for the trivial and possibly uninteresting details.

I spent a wonderfully fantastic month in France. I started to write some musings on my blog, tidbits about Paris, our jaunts to the coast, and the uncanny dining abilities of the French, but was entirely too distracted by said things. Thus, here I am, already returned from France, albeit a little plumper than before.

Back in Oregon I am reveling in a few things: the proximity of my family and friends, the abrupt transition to autumn weather, and the prospect of the next wondrous opportunity.

Next week I will take a plane from Portland (with a 12 hour layover in Amsterdam- my third attempt to see the city insh'allah will be the charm...) to Nairobi, where Johann will meet and escort me back to Tanzania. There are a handful of job and internship opportunities in good old Arusha that I am trying to pursue through various connections. I am very eager to get some experience in the field, as I have recently been learning through interviews and published reports, that a graduate degree in peace and conflict areas does not adequately prepare one for the job market. Im curious where that report was hiding when I signed up for school. Anyway, I digress.

An old friend of mine recently posted on her blog the following Mark Twain quote (apparently it is making its rounds inspiring various people, and I am the most recently effected):

[Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.]

I'm fortunate enough to have the opportunity to take him literally. So here goes. Wish me luck.

fulfilling my wanderlust

2010-07-06T11:17:00.000-07:00

Leaving for Paris in just a few short days! Ill arrive just in time to celebrate a very special birthday. Almost done packing (not that I am eager or anything). I will spend most of my remaining time in Salem cramming french grammar (its like a 4-week long test coming up) and soaking up the first glorious days of summer.

I see freedom and opportunity

2010-04-25T21:19:00.000-07:00

The last week of graduate school... After 18 straight years of education, I should be worth something to the world, no? Ironically, I am finishing up my thesis on Somalia, which has been "governmentless" for as long as I have been in school, and "less than worthless" to the world with its glorious contribution to piracy and general lawlessness.

Thats really something to think about.

As I look forward to my freedom from this long, and at times difficult process, I wonder when Somali's will be free and considered valuable to the world. And when for Afghans and Iraqis? For Burmese and Thai?

Im Humbly Reminded

2010-04-10T22:32:00.000-07:00

While we were concerned with all the busyness of humans, the crocuses and daffodils and tulips bloomed, and the deciduous trees budded and blossomed. Overnight there was given magnificent color to our lives again, whether we consciously observed it or not.

And now the day appeals to us on behalf of the earth, imploring us silently by offering a moment more of itself every time we meet, patiently hoping we might notice what beautiful new shades of life it unveils.

a brief note before my thesis consumes my life again

2010-03-29T08:18:00.000-07:00

What a glorious feeling. To come home to my bed after seeing the world.

I spent two weeks in Spain with my dear friends, Tiffany, Laura and Grace. Perhaps you would like to take a look at our group musings. We powered through six cities in 12 days. Spain was more beautiful than I had imagined.

These were a few of my favorite Spanish things:

[The Alhambra] the gorgeously detailed 14th century Moorish fortress. This impressed me more than any castle or cathedral I have seen. Every room was splashed with beautiful colored tiles and flowing patterns of carvings and arabic script. Absolutely incredible.

[Stuttgart v. Barcelona Championship soccer match] Within this crowd of 98,000 singing fans, my friends and I were embraced by radiant energy and kisses with each of the four goals scored. As if the stadium was electrified, and we were all attached to the same wires, we moved with one voice and one body in celebration of Futbol Club Barcelona.

We also delighted in the powerful expressions of traditional Flamenco. We sampled tasty paella, tapas, sangria and chocolate churros. We marveled at the paintings of Dali and Picasso (Guernica was unimaginable.) We frolicked through alcazars and catedrals, alley ways and Roman aquaducts. We touched the Mediterranean!

Upon my return back to the states I spent a week sightseeing in my own country, in New York City and DC, with Johann and a few of his friends. I cant begin to tell you what wonderful perspectives you can achieve when observing America through European lenses :)

ode to playing in the sun

2010-02-09T18:14:00.000-08:00

Today was the kind where the blue sky beckons you open the window, even though its bitter cold.
The emerald grass lures you to tromp in it though it is filled with sticky mud.

The orange glow of the sunset, the fog over the water and the colorfully shaded leaves on the ground confuse you. What season is it? Fall with winters' impending bitterness? Or spring with hope of balmy weather?

"hooray!", you exclaim upon your realization, "there will be many more days like this!"

my inspiration for a rainy first of february

2010-02-01T15:33:00.000-08:00

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires,
let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that
sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
and to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for
another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart
and a song of praise upon your lips.

Kahlil Gibran

leaving home to come home

2010-01-11T21:34:00.000-08:00

Should be enough said. But for fear that I might be misunderstood, this transition has been simultaneously the most difficult and the easiest of my life.

I miss the thunderstorms, the strength and diligence of the equatorial sun, and my dear friends from the world over that captured bits of my admiration and pieces of my heart.

The place I have come back to is more beautiful than I remembered. To experience again the rare day during an Oregon winter when the sky becomes so clear and bright that to look at it takes your breath away. Or to see again the way the forests here at the bottom of the mountains defy all logic by staying green and lush under piles of cold white snow. And to remember the height of the waves of the Pacific, waves that demand your awe and respect as they pummel their history into the sands.

As if this wasn't enough, for every wonderful person I left in Tanzania, I had one wonderful person here waiting with open arms.

So this is how it goes when you leave home to come home.

Tanzanian Road Trip

2009-12-28T08:15:00.000-08:00

Day 1:
9 hours on a bus to Dar es Salaam watching TERRIBLE Tanzanian movies.
Day 2:
3 hour ferry to Zanzibar. Fell in love at first sight of the shore. Wandered around the maze that is Stonetown, broke a shoe, drank citrus sugar cane juice while someone repaired it, ate lobster and Zanzibar pizza by twinkling starlight at a posh shore side outdoor market.
Day 3:
Caught in a flash flood while wandering Stonetown. Other shoe broke. Drove to North Coast, watched women with colorfully wrapped heads and bodies fishing thigh deep in the aquamarine waves with pots and nets (in my memory it looks something more like a creative dance they did together in a circle than individual work.)
Day 4:
Rose with the sun and took a long walk “private” beaches. We later learned that we were trespassing on a beach behind the hospital. Hopefully we weren’t exposed to anything too dangerous. Took the ferry back to Dar and got sunburned watching the sailboats on the waves from the deck. Walked around the less-than-inspiring city of Dar in the ridiculous heat and humidity with our luggage. Took a packed mini bus to Bagamoyo. It was incredible, I have never had so little room for an hour and a half ride. Ate the best fish in Tanzania. Woke up that night to sweltering heat and the sound of the generator cutting off and our only fan spinning slowly to a standstill.
Day 5:
Woke up something like 10 pounds lighter due to loss of water weight. Declined the original plan of bicycle tour of Bagamoyo. Went to slavery museums and 13th century mosque ruins. Washed myself in ancient holy water at the promise that I might become the next Obama. Caught in rainstorms riding another packed mini bus. Switched to pikipikis (aka motorbike taxis) to get to our next hotel. Unfortunately, the tires stuck in the mud, and with all my luggage on my back the driver and I slowly tipped over. I decided to walk the rest of the way.
Day 6:
Rose early with the sun again, and attempted to talk to and photograph the fishermen heading to sea in their boats. They said “twende!” and for only the impending plans to travel again that day I declined. Took a daladala back to sweaty Dar. Found myself walking around with my big backpack through cracks between moving buses. Funny the heat from the engines was no different than the surrounding air. Hung out with Alfred’s family. Got a midnight tour of the city, which included where to find American style french fries.
Day 7:
Alfred’s sisters wedding. Quite the opposite of the first wedding we experienced in Tanzania, this one was more formal than prom. A classic black and white color scheme, huge banquet and everyone in beautiful dresses and suits. Though there were several traditions that reminded me I was in Tanzania still, like the cutting of the Tanzanian wedding cake, a roasted goat. Also, the groom and bride were from different tribes, so each tribe was introduced and took turns standing up in the middle of the room to do a traditional tribal dance. Because I was sitting with the Chaga tribe, they made me stand up and dance with them. Everyone thought this was hilarious, as the emcee bellowed, “Welcome white Chaga!” So at the very least I was able to contribute to the black and white theme.
Day 8:
Woke up with a terrible cold but a seven-hour drive ahead of me. We left Dar and sweated all the way north to a town in the mountainous rain forest called Amani, which means peace. Enjoyed a long car ride with Alfred’s cousin by marriage who was from Bandon, Oregon (what a small world). When we arrived we checked for food at at least three different shops in the village but no one was cooking. Finally scrounged up some fry omelettes (chips maii, so good!) and then went on a night hike in search of chameleons.
Day 9:
Got up and threw our stuff in the car. Ate toast and eggs in the middle of nowhere while watching the news about the Italian Prime Minister getting hit in the face. Oh globalization. 7 hour car ride back to Arusha. At about hour 3 we were routinely stopped by police who inquired about my lack of seat belt. The car didn’t have one. The policeman says, “Okay, please pray.”

2009-12-19T05:50:00.000-08:00

These are the things I am most looking forward to when coming home in 4 days!

Hugging family and giving presents
Drinking milk
Starbucks holiday cups
Christmas cartoon movies and holiday lights
Leg warmers
New journal and book
Washing machines and dryers
Bathtubs
WRITING MY THESIS :0)

My First Thanksgiving Away

2009-12-19T05:43:00.000-08:00

It didn’t really hit me how far away from home I was until two days before Thanksgiving. I broke out the mulled spices and I poured my roommates spiced drinks until I’m sure they were fed up with me. We turned on Charlie Brown Christmas and thought about holiday lights and huge turkey dinners.

Thanksgiving morning I received a phone call from my family who had gathered in Salem. What a bittersweet morning! I heard the voices of half of my family members from across the world singing “We’re all together again, we’re here… and who knows when we’ll be all together again, singing we’re all together again we’re here!” I found myself singing this song the rest of the day, and it reminded me how far I was from where I came from.

And yet, it reminded me also how lucky I am to be able to explore the world so far away from home. In order to celebrate Thanksgiving, the 6 girls in my house organized a proper feast: we gathered all our favorite people in Arusha at the Chinese restaurant next door. It was a diplomatic affair as we had representatives from Sudan, Tunisia, India, Tanzania and Benin to experience the wonders of the Thanksgiving tradition.
I must say it was the least politically correct Thanksgiving dinner I have ever experienced. Topics of conversation included how many turkeys America had consumed for the day, the animosity between pilgrims and “Indians”, and various other stereotypical and potentially derogatory assumptions about people groups and their traditions.

The next day, instead of battling the insanity of black Friday at home, we left early in the morning on safari in an ancient caldera. We saw lions, rhinos, elephants, giraffes, hyenas, ostriches, zebras, gazelles, buffalo, baboons, hippos, and the like in their element. Maybe a similar experience to those of you who went shopping? :0)

Lushoto

2009-11-24T05:11:00.000-08:00

14 hours on a horrid bus in a period of 36 hours. And I am telling you it was worth it.

Victoria and I found ourselves at the front of the bus, thinking this was lucky. But the bus acts much like a matatu, stopping to pick up passengers for short distances. Of course this is once all seats are already filled so people are standing in the aisles bracing themselves on your shoulder, accidentally pulling your hair, resting their bags in your lap and the like. Not to mention it is the storage place for all the big bags that cant make it past seats through the skinny aisle, including huge sacks of maize flour. A couple hours into the trip I realized the floor, which was our only place to store our backpacks for the trek, was soaking wet. When the wet got onto the tops of my feet and didn’t dry, I realized it was oil, and it had soaked all the way through my flip flops! I changed into my tennis shoes quickly, but the ick had covered my legs from the straps of my backpack. Such a mess. I sacrificed the shoes to the bus gods hoping the trip back would be less eventful.

The drive to Lushoto was GORGEOUS. Blooming baobob trees, fields of pineapple bushes and termite hills, so lush. By the fifth hour we made it into the mountains, which I have never seen anything like. Looked like something in a Dr. Seuss book. Waterfalls and streams cutting through the canyons, gray slate rock home to strange trees and bushes.

We got off the bus and were greeted by my dear Heidi, who took us to our 6 dollar guest house and fed us chips mai (best TZ dish ever, basically a French fry omelette). We then set off on our hike, which was pretty easy, considering afterwards we learned we had hiked 8 miles. The end destination, the famed “viewpoint”, was incredible. Basically, it was a rock ledge to sit on, thousands of feet up from the valley floor, where you can see nearly everything between Arusha and Dar. I cannot even begin to describe the vertigo you might encounter there. And it was GREEN as far as I could see, with grey mountains on all sides. We basked in the sun on the rocks for a while as it set and sipped sodas. In the face of so much beauty I found I couldn’t even be mad upon realizing that our neighbor girl had run out my camera batteries when she left my camera on a few nights ago.

Headed back to the guest house where the power kept flickering on and off. Though we slept with the lights on because we really couldn’t be sure nothing was going to crawl out of thin air, or the huge open drains in the bathroom or the bedding for that matter.

The ride back somehow dragged out from 6 to 8 hours, with many screaming children and painfully rattling windows. Also, I began noticing the crazy amounts of hustling that took place on the bus. We pulled over every 20 minutes to pick up one thing or another, huge sacks filled with charcoal, stacks of crates filled with empty soda bottles, even a lone unaccompanied knap sack here and there. They do really smart business.

a typical friday in arusha

2009-11-21T04:11:00.000-08:00

Selina, Eunice and I went into the Tribunal Friday morning, thinking it would be business as usual. We walked through the security checks, and Selina tried to throw some garbage away in a big bin and was chastised. "That's not for garbage." Upon asking what the bin was for, we learned it was for containing explosions. huh.

After making tea and settling into our offices, we began hearing sirens, and were called into the office of one of our colleagues. "Come see the presidents!" So we crawled out her window onto the ledge to watch the procession. Tanzania's president, Kikwete came first. He and his crew paused and smiled and seemed to enjoy the large group of traditional African dancers welcoming them. He was followed by the presidents of Burundi, Uganda, Kenya and Rwanda. We saw the first three from the balcony, but upon some angry glances and gestures from the security on the ground we realized we were making people nervous. So we saw the last two from only 10 feet away down on the ground. I was really surprised at how loose security seemed. Undoubtedly there would have been five times the amount of security used for these five men used for Obama.

Our classmates were having a different adventure on this morning. It had rained something like inches the night before, making the drive to see Heifer projects in Arusha quite interesting. I was getting texts about adventures of the car getting stuck in the mud. I was bummed I missed that.

I had lunch with a wonderful friend from Australia, though we were soaking wet and really cold from the downpour outside. We treated ourselves to steak and red wine, and I had the privilege of explaining what snow was like to someone who had never seen or touched it. I must have done an okay job because her face looked as excited as a little kid finding out its a snow day (of course, I had to explain snow days to her, too). I think my mind was equally blown when she told me that often times Christmas day after opening presents they have an outdoor pool party.

We went to the infamous Spices and Herbs Restaurant last night. It was the first time I had been back since the robbery, and they patched the bullet holes! We went for a ritzy Ethiopian dinner and fashion show.

There you have it. Typical Friday in Arusha. Always something going on :0)

started off the weekend well...

2009-11-16T02:11:00.000-08:00

We might have gotten ripped off by the fees. Turns out the trail is only a few km from our apartment. Which is incredible, a 3 minute taxi and an hour walk to a breathtaking waterfall in the middle of a jungle.

They gave us each a hiking pole. But ¾ of the hour walk was through a village. Can you just imagine two white girls walking through a village leaning on poles through the muddy roads? Nobody else needed poles to get around. A woman in her 60’s saw the irony in this as well, she came up to me with a smile and made a gesture toward the pole, as if to say she wanted it and would be able to put it to better use. Somehow despite the language barrier, I shared with her my agreement, and she laughed and turned and carried on down the road, at a JOGGING pace.

There were so many children that collected around us as we stopped to admire the avocado, mango, papaya, and PEACH trees. We could hear them shout MA- ZUUUN- GU! From far away and suddenly they were right behind us. One particular group was all whispers and giggles and kept trying to sneak up behind us to scare us. So I turned around quickly to startle THEM. The poor kids, you should have seen the look of terror on their faces! Though this quickly melted back into their fine senses of humor and we all laughed for some time.

We finally made it to the waterfall, which involved some jumping over ant hills and sliding down steep mud hills. We came across another American (who just graduated from a Quaker school, go figure) and his two guides. Just as we made it down to the bottom of the climb, before I could even pull out my camera, the sky OPENED up. We were caught in a downpour. Thunder pounded and fat raindrops made it difficult to see. We took quick pictures and then scrambled back up the hill. Victoria, myself and our guide joined with the other hiking group and they led us to a small cooking shack to keep dry. The problem was we were already completely drenched. So after the rain showed no sign of letting up, we convinced them to let us keep walking.

What a sight that must have been. The roads were FILLED with water, and people were standing under cover, staying dry. And here we come traipsing along in a thunderstorm, with our metal poles mind you, and covered in goosebumps having to wipe the heavy rain from our faces. They shouted to us in sympathy, “Poleni!” One lady even offered us to come to her house for milk. A little later we came across a couple of trucks that had gotten stuck in the mud, I shouted “Poleni!” to the men trying to free the vehicles, and got some great smiles back.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get warm for quite some time, despite drinking hot tea and wearing two pairs of sweatpants at a time. And not surprisingly I feel like I am coming down with something. But it was SO worth it. That was the most fun I have had since, last weekend. :0)

c'est la vie?

2009-11-14T05:27:00.000-08:00

Today at the office we were frantically asked to prepare a speech on the role of ad hoc tribunals in ending impunity for war crimes. About an hour later I was in my supervisors office as people were running in and out asking questions passing around phone calls. All of the sudden someone comes in and states that they are very busy as “there has been a plane crash, but everyone is fine.” Then she ran off down the hall (retelling this I am picturing the white rabbit in Wonderland.) Turns out a plane went down in Kigali, and the man we were writing a speech for was on it. Only bruises though, so we are carrying on with the speech.

the sign before rain is clouds.

2009-11-11T06:17:00.000-08:00

I bought a new bag in Nairobi over the weekend, and on it is a Kenyan proverb written in Kiswahili that translated means "the sign before rain is clouds". I started wearing this bag on Sunady and since then it has been raining. Maybe the key for fixing droughts is to get someone that comes from a very rainy place (like me from Oregon) to walk around in the dry place bearing some profound statement about rain. Seems to be working okay here in Arusha.

Nairobi was a whirlwind of a trip. seven hour bus ride each way Friday and Sunday. So Saturday was packed full of everything we could think of. We fed giraffes (I got headbutted by a giraffe btw), we watched women making beads out of clay and necklaces out of beads, we saw cultural dances, we walked through a replica of Obama's tribes' village, we saw mob run after a man yelling thief and whipping off their belts to beat him, we haggled in an open market, and we ate fabulous Ethiopian food with our fingers.

Sunday morning Victoria and I went to the Swaminarayam temple before sunrise. We drove past dance clubs and saw people just leaving to go home (we thought how convenient, we should have just come here last night it is so nearby :0). We arrived at a temple but the guards were slow to let us in the parking gate. So as we sat in the middle of a sidewalk in the dark and waited I could feel our cab driver tense. He locked the doors, and would interrupt his conversation with the guard to stare down the person who may be walking down the sidewalk at that moment. They do call it Nairobbery for a reason I suppose. Turns out we were at the wrong place anyway, this temple wanted appointments. ha.

We made it to the temple we were looking for. We stumbled up the dark steps but were corrected by the guard who directed us to the womens entrance, the steps on the other side. (I must note though, this is the first time I have seen a temple with segregated entrances where the entrances resembled each other. The women's entrance was as beautiful and spacious as the men's!) We walked in with our head coverings and jeans and long sleeve tshirts looking rather like sloppy travellers, to find women dressed in BEAUTIFUL Indian saris performing a prayer ceremony. We hid in the back but I couldnt take my eyes off of all the colors. What a contrast with the opaque-ish twilight we had entered from. After maybe a minute of the women staring at us, and us staring at them, a girl of maybe 18 or 19 came up to us and asked us to join her sitting at the front of the room. She told me she goes to temple twice each day of the week, sunrise and sunset. And she marvelled that us muzungus were able to sit crosslegged like they did. For the next half hour we had NO idea what was going on but they included us in everything nonetheless. I think we purified ourselves with smoke from incense, and drank holy water, and ate something that tasted like annise? Okay those all sound like dangerous ideas in a country you dont know but I assure you it was fine! Anyway, I was so impressed with how inclusive they were toward us.

Nairobi pictures

So, I am about to grab some hot chocolate and sit on a sofa and watch the rain. sounds like home, huh?

passing afternoon

2009-10-27T23:31:00.000-07:00

At lunch time yesterday I walked home to the apartment, and there were donkeys chilling across the street with no apparent owner to claim them. By the time I came back out they had crossed the road and ended up in the roundabout with the big Kilimanjaro brewery fountain. I really wish I had been carrying my camera.

After work yesterday I aquired a surprise walking companion, a boy of about 8 still in school uniform, named Andrew. I said, mambo, he said poa, and next thing I know he was dodging puddles with me the whole mile to my gate (this is the 3rd day in a row of Oregon weather, thanks to whoever put in that request for me :0). The funniest thing about our walk together was that we really couldn't communicate. I would try to ask a question, in either swahili or english, and he would try to answer it. But I dont think either one of us ever understood each other, other than that we were enjoying not walking alone.

When I got home, I turned the t.v. on for the first time in a month, prompted by a rumor that our cable was working again. There was a cute Indian commercial on with people singing on a train, and at the end of the commercial the following words pop up on the screen: "why walk alone?" very cute and conincidental, I thought to myself.

A bit later I was texting my friend Alfred to find out what the world cup game schedule was for the next couple days, and he wrote back the following (verbatim mind you): did u c liverpool play the other day SWEET "YOU SHALL NEVER WALK ALONE"

Okay so blame it on me reading too much into things, or the fact that the power had just shut off and I was sitting in the dark, or the fact that Victoria who was sitting and chatting with me was creeped out too, but I was about ready to NEVER walk by myself again. Alfred clarified later that it is the liverpool motto, which gave us all a good laugh, but I'm still not so sure someone wasnt trying to tell me something!

thoughts on the week as it ends

2009-10-23T04:54:00.000-07:00

"Its Friday, Its Friday, its the end of the week and the last day..." This is how many of our week's end, with Selina's catchy little song.

I cant believe how fast the weeks are going by. Herein lies a summary of the past 6 or so days:

Selina's birthday party was great, so many people came out to celebrate with her! Unfortunately, the power went out (it NEVER goes out Saturday, of course it would this week!) so we ate by candlelight and without the music playlists we had so meticulously planned earlier. Some of our hip hop dancing friends managed to perform for us without any music though, which was so fun!

The after party moved to a reggae bar where a live reggae band was sharing some very soul filled tunes. We enjoyed ourselves until trouble among some drunk people started stirring up. Some big belligerent military commander was threatening a woman we work with. Thankfully no one was hurt, though tensions got pretty high for a moment. We took that as our cue to call it an evening.

The next morning we left for our surprise safari. Of course, the safari jeep broke down. But we were on a beautiful somewhat deserted stretch of highway content to take pictures of the dusty scenery. After a good 25 minutes of watching Alfred mess around under the hood, a semi truck pulled up behind us. Something was wrong with our fuel line so the diesel wasn't getting to the engine. So these kind men siphoned out some of their fuel for us so we could be on our way.

We arrived at a gorgeous little oasis in the desert filled with monkeys and monkey babies. We had a huge delicious lunch, and then hopped on mountain bikes for an 8 km ride through the bush. It has been so long since I rode a bike! And its not like we were riding on smooth pavement... we went from a rocky road to a dusty field filled with cow poop. Once we passed the poop piles we had to watch for the prickly acacias. I am hard pressed to describe the beauty we encountered out there on our bikes. Desolation. The dusty field at one point was the bottom of Lake Manara, but it hasn't been covered with water since the late '90s. This year's drought alone was quite visible in the bodies of the cattle that occasionally blocked our path. There is so little grass that their ribs protrude almost painfully. We had many kids run up and touch our skin as we rode by. And there was a lady who tried to race me on foot!

Driving back from Lake Manara, we hit a giant dust storm. It was like a pinkish whiteout as the sun was setting. We drove for miles through it, passing people walking, cycling and working in fields all the while. I wished we could have picked them all up in our car for at least a moment of relief.

We also passed something a little disturbing, police officers forcing some suspected thieves into the back of a truck. It was like see something out of a movie. SO much for innocent until proven guilty.

Plans for this weekend arent really set yet, there are so many things to do as it feels like our time here is running out. But main priority for me SHOULD be the paper and presentation and take home final that are all due next week. Its crazy how much reading we have been doing lately.

AND I BOUGHT A PLANE TICKET TO SPAIN! I will be going for 2 weeks with some friends from home in March- Im thinking of it as an incentive/reward for completing my thesis. :0)

odds and ends before a big weekend

2009-10-16T23:37:00.000-07:00

A soft gray Saturday morning finds me at my FAVORITE spot in Arusha. The Blue Heron. This place has big fluffy pillows on couches and beds spread all throughout a lush landscape of flowers, grass and trees. And free wireless to boot. Wanted to fill you in on a few funny things before the happenings of this weekend because they will need a blog on their own. Also, as I write this I am multitasking and trying to fill out school loan forms and do reading for class. woo.

Monday night around 1 am, we awoke to POUNDING noises in our apartment. It was actually quite startling at first, we were all thinking the worst (WHO IS TRYING TO BREAK IN). After the initial feelings of fear I got up to double check the lock on our door, and realized the pounding was coming from our neighbors apartment. I could hear their voices talking calmly. These are the neighbors you may have read about on Selina or Eunice's blog, with the 11-year old daughter, Olifia, who is always pounding on our door and following us around. I went back to bed thinking it was some late night construction project. The next morning there was definitely blood out on our gorgeous mosaic tile court yard. Turns out, Olifia's dad had brought home some animals and had to chop them up outside our door before they spoiled. GROSS.

Did I mention it rains every Friday here? Seriously. How weird is that.

Last night we watched the under-20 world cup game! Go figure Tanzania is making a soccer lover out of me. Yeah Ghana!

Tonight is the long anticipated birthday party for Selina, we rented out a little venue and have our chef friend Victor and invited at least a third of Arusha... Seriously, its going to be really cool to see all the people we know in one place: students, interns, security guards, fruit stand workers, etc. It will be a true test to see if we can recognize everyone outside of the context we know them in.

Tomorrow is a "surprise" safari trek... about 8 of us are heading out to a place that Alfred picked for us for another break from Arusha. I'm hoping to make this a new Sunday tradition. What could be better than fellowship whilst exploring??

mteremo [lightheartedness, freedom from care]

2009-10-13T00:48:00.000-07:00

“You girls are the glamour of the event,” Ben tells Eunice and I as we don kid-sized ford logo t-shirts and fluff up our hair. He hired us for a few hours of looking pretty and shaking hands of Arusha’s highest society at the launch of the newest model of Ford luxury vehicle in Tanzania. Of course it was held in the garden of the 5-star Arusha Hotel. We were asked to stand smiling on either side of the new Everest as someone gave a promo speech. We were even asked to pose in a few pictures with people. We just kept laughing at our luck… we have managed to meet the coolest most connected people in this town.

We spent Saturday learning about the initiatives of a local greening project. I met a really cute little boy who accompanied me playing with seeds and flowers rather than listening to one of the presentations. He was shocked when I said “asante,” even though I had already asked him his name using his own language. “You speak Swahili??”

We proceeded to a Maasai boma. Stepping out of the car we were greeted by about 10 ornately dressed women that were singing and dancing our welcome. They laughed and smiled as we tried to emulate them, and we all shook hands. God, they were gorgeous. I didn’t realize how much I had been lacking the company of older women. There is something profound even in sitting in such close proximity to someone with so much wisdom and maturity. I found myself staring at them a lot, although I didn’t feel bad, as they seemed to be reciprocating. I can only imagine how ridiculous the things we were wearing must look to them, or even my skin that was quickly turning pink from sitting in the sun so briefly must look quite foreign. The kids had mixed reactions toward us, they kept running to touch us, and then running away to safety just as quickly. They disappeared for a while, but their giggles in the distance beckoned me turn around to see them all standing staring at their reflections in the shiny bumper of our SUV.

There were no trees to be seen around this village, and as the wind picked up we were bombarded with dust from the parched earth surrounding us. I alternated quite frequently between rubbing my eyes and squeezing them shut. I’ve never been affected by a drought so directly. When the dust subsided I noticed two of the women sitting closest to me eyeing my amani tattoo and exchanging whispers. I liked the look on their faces, something between surprise and intrigue and approval.

Later they danced and sang and laughed some more, and they dressed us in traditional clothes and beaded jewelry. I think the vision of their calm smiles will stick with me for quite some time.

When I awoke Sunday, I felt a deep longing to go back to the bush. Somewhere I could set my feet on real earth, rather than concrete or tile; somewhere away from development. I secured the good offices of my friend Alfred, who always seems to come through for me at these moments. We left in the early afternoon, with his brother and one of my classmates, in search of a hot spring. It was about a 45-minute drive on marked roads, and 30 minutes on something more like a rocky maze in between baobab trees and small villages.

We arrived to find a lonely little pool with crystal clear turquoise water. It wasn’t actually a hot spring, but a gorgeous fresh water swimming pool surrounded by low hanging branches and vines. Swimming in this pool was the kind of refreshing that leaves your soul feeling quenched.

After a while we started hearing things rustling in the bushes around the pool. Monitor lizards! Coincidentally, we all tired from swimming. So we switched our focus to climbing the trees. Perched up high with Alfred we enjoyed coke and ground nuts and light conversation. We talked about Obama winning the peace prize, (though I still think a commander in chief of the army should not receive that honor) and the recession.

Our relaxing was soon interrupted with another adventure. In search of a place to relieve ourselves, we came across a newly born calf- umbilical cord still attached. Alfred picked it up. And then it chased me, like a scene straight out of the book Are You My Mother. We next had to cross a stream to get to the desert on the other side. However, we had to wait for a herd of goats to pass through first. I would have loved somebody to take a picture of me in my bikini patiently waiting with Maasai men for these animals. On the buisness of the bathroom, let me just say it is difficult to find a private place in a desert that supports nomadic Maasai.

During the wait, Alfred had struck up conversation with one of the locals and learned that there was a hydroelectric plant nearby. We went in search of it with this man as our guide. We saw rustic equipment and monkeys and birds that looked like dinosaurs and women bathing in the river. Don't you always find more than you start out looking for?

I felt such relief to be in the bush, that I started scheming my future as a safari guide. Alfred talked me through my options. I thought maybe this could be a solution to my wanderlust: a job description only limited by the definition of exploring.

We rode home at my favorite time of day, where the sky becomes pink and the earth becomes somehow golden. I could feel the wind in my hair and the dust covering my skin as I watched the peak of Kili slowly fade into the twilight. And I finally felt so free and content in that moment. That night I read a great passage from Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet:

“You shall be free indeed when your days are not without a care nor your nights without a want and a grief, but rather when these things girdle your life and yet you rise above them naked and unbound.”

I think this will be my inspiration for this new week. In celebration, Eunice and I have decided to forgo the use of utensils. Ill let you know how that goes.

Check out all the exciting pictures from this week on facebook. Hopefully East African internet allows me to post them :0)

steps to fighting burn out

2009-10-05T00:24:00.000-07:00

By last Friday I was feeling the effects of working/schooling/playing too much. So I decided that this weekend I would focus on just one of these areas. The following should help you deduce which area I chose.

1. hang out and dance with friends Friday and Saturday night until the morning call to prayer (about 5am) calls us home.
2. lounge around the 5 star hotel pool (aka lagoon) in the hot equatorial sun chatting with strangers and old friends
3. watch our new friends in break-dancing and rapping performances
4. drive all around arusha asking for directions to a restaurant that no one has ever heard of but pretends they have and they know exactly how to get there
5. watch the intense chelsea-liverpool game with a friend who insisted on making it more exciting for me (did you know number so and so is the son of a colombian drug dealer? you tackle him and he kills your whole family.)

Turns out it was JUST what I needed. Last night before going to bed Victoria and I hung up a bunch of my pictures all over our living room, so now it feels a little more cozy and colorful for us. Got up this morning feeling refreshed and nearly ready for the week of work and paper writing and exam taking.

Can you believe whats going on in southeast asia right now? and did you hear the "new" news that Somalia is on the brink of famine? would love some updates from anyone who is good at summarizing on whats happening in the U.S.

amani.

One more presentation down

2009-10-01T04:21:00.000-07:00

Big sigh of relief.

Got another presentation out of the way for class. Schedule has been a bit crazy as we started taking a french class during our lunch hour, and classes have been starting an extra hour early all week. Last night was my first night of sleeping more than a few hours due to stress and over involvement. It felt so GOOD!

Funny story to entertain you (especially Grandma Sue!). To take a break from studying Victoria and I went and got dinner and played pool with a couple friends. One of them has a car and was taking us home (after the longest game of pool in my whole life- we really were that bad!) when his car died in the middle of the road. We all thought nothing of it because this car dies quite often, and this guy has a knack for restarting it. But pole sana nothing was happening. The car was still sputtering. OUT OF GAS. Lucky for us, we were less than 50 yeards from a gas station. Luckier still, Arusha has no fire stations so they park their emergency vehicles on the side of major roads to be ready, complete with at least 4 firemen (same situtation with the securit response teams). We had stopped RIGHT next to one of these trucks. So something like 6 guys come out and start pushing the car to the gas station. Victoria and I just sat in the back like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Have free tickets tonight to the Mama Africa circus that just set up across the street from our apartments. I'm excited!

Immigration offices, fashion shows and dangerous (?) walks

2009-09-28T04:53:00.000-07:00

Immigration Office visit number one:On Tuesday we went to the immigration office to extend our visas. We were told to go about a week before they expired, and this should cover us legally. (Of course, we grabbed a cheap and tasty meal at the immigration canteen first :0) Some interesting conversation took place between 6 of us Americans on one side of the counter with our Tanzanian supervisor, and at least four immigration officers on the other side of the counter. Apparently, several of us were in the country illegally because as students we need a resident permit. This results in a 400 US dollar fine. Awesome. However, we explained to the officers that no one had informed us of this necessity, not even the people at the airport who gave us the stamps and wrote cryptic messages in our passports. So the fine was waived. But we were still required to pay USD 120 to remain in the country legally until December. One officer told us, “yes, we do not make clear our laws until you get into our country.” A little indignant at the discrepancies between what we had been told in the US and in TZ, and the prices some of us were charged and some of us were not, we left a bit distraught with a warning that we better come back soon to resolve the situation.

Immigration Office visit number two:We heard through the grapevine that those of us that are interning at the Tribunal could get a letter that would waive the residence permit fee. We acted on this quickly, got the letters and went back to immigration to ask for our visa extensions. In a matter of 20 minutes the issue was settled. It IS all in who you know. One officer recognized us from our first visit and asked where the rest of our group was. Eunice was quick to respond that we were in a different group, which will hopefully deter the search for our still illegal friends until they figure out a solution. I really appreciated getting a small taste of what so many people struggle with daily in immigration offices all around the world.

Who needs power during a fashion show:
We made clubbing our full time job last night. We started out around 8pm at Maasai camp for a peace concert and fashion show to support Tanzanian children. The models were strutting their African styles until Tenesco (the beloved Tanzanian power company) chose to cut this neighborhood’s power. Strangely enough the music kept playing while the lights were out, so I for one stayed pretty alert. Of course, it lit up pretty fast in the club as people pulled out their cell phones. About 20 minutes later they were able to get the generator running and the show continued. This is Africa.

walking:
Sometimes I wish there was a map for us of Arusha that laid out where it was safe to walk. As you may have heard, one of the girls got mugged walking down the street one night last week. The incident left us all with more questions about this developed place we live in that sometimes gives us a false sense of safety and efficiency. But the same could be said for any city really. This morning my good friend Victoria and I went exploring the “suburbs” of Arusha. We found ourselves in some pretty impoverished neighborhoods that are well hidden from the main streets. Suddenly all eyes were on us, what are these muzungus doing in here?? This was the first time I have felt less safe because of a language barrier. We left both neighborhoods pretty quickly after realizing that we could not communicate well with anyone. In the first neighborhood, an older woman and I greeted each other in Swahili and she asked me where we were going. I told her sheepishly that I didn’t know, we were just walking. Walking wapi she says. WHERE? Was I imagining the concern in her voice? Then I couldn’t comprehend the rest of what she told me, so we apologized (as people should do when they cant understand one another) and both kept walking our separate ways. But just for a minute because I had a nagging feeling and so we turned around and left the neighborhood. Just as well, we probably looked really stupid for all our hesitation. The next neighborhood we saw people washing clothes in a beautiful stream surrounded by banana trees and a family of baby ducks taking a stroll. We came to a bridge across the stream and considered taking it until we noticed the gaping holes and cracks in the thin boards. Hesitation again. I looked around me and noticed some people standing around watching us. One woman in particular (oh how I wish I had a picture of this) stood looking intently at us with one hand on the head of her child next to her and one hand extended and point in the direction we had walked from. At first I couldn’t tell if she was kicking us out of the neighborhood or keeping us from danger. But after the sight of the holy bridge I obliged quite quickly and we left. Interestingly enough, as we walked we saw a brand new bridge up ahead that was sturdy and made of thick concrete.

doing fine

2009-09-21T05:35:00.000-07:00

I hear that there may be some worries about my non-blogging recently in conjunction from coming home from such a heavy place as Rwanda.

Turns out, I hardly have time to use internet lately, and our one accelerated class paired with still interning at the UN is proving to be way more demanding than we had previously anticipated. Also, Susan has been here in Arusha with me for the past 5 days and I have been trying to soak up as much time with her as possible (I realize this was the most time we have spent together since I visited her in Kampala last Christmas!)

Otherwise, things are great here, keeping me laughing as usual. I am really enjoying my housemates and our sometimes comical and frustrating situations. A circus moved in across the street from us. And I went to a movie for the first time here (the sound is only a little off :0) We literally climbed into kilimanjaro this weekend, by way of some centuries-old tribal caves, trekked to see the beautiful Ndoro waterfalls, and then learned to make chipatti from a family who we couldnt communicate with aside from gestures and laughter.

Last night we participated in the traditions of Eid by paying respects to our "elder" (our supervisor at work from Tunisia) by way of visit with chocolates and kisses. She and her kids had made us bite size cupcakes and lemongrass tea.

Still missing new friends in Kigali, but really enjoying having the rest of my graduate class here now. Arusha just keeps getting better :0)

vacation postponed

2009-08-30T22:54:00.000-07:00

A series of weird events have changed this weeks plans a bit. Zanzibar and Stonetown have been regrettably postponed.

Luckily, I had great help in lessening my disappointment. Our friend Alfred took us to a Tanzanian wedding on Saturday! We traveled in style in Alfred’s big safari jeep, bouncing along the rocky road with the windows down. Its amazing how fast people drive over rocks here. (By the time we got out of the car my hair was actually stiff from the dust and dirt.) With four young women in the back seat the bumpy road was a bit painful… the door handles and window rollers (is there a name for those things??) slammed into thighs and the seats were not so padded. We are realizing that it is definitely not everyone’s experience here to drive through East Africa in such a vehicle. Driving for close to an hour into the country, we passed a lot of “maasai jeeps” (donkeys) and people on foot and bicycle. I was thankful for my “rough” ride.

We ended up having to ask for directions several times, which of course always adds entertainment to any type of road trip. Which allowed me a few snapshots out the window and a lot of quizzical looks from onlookers.

The four of us “muzungus” stood out quite a bit. When we first arrived, they had already been at the wedding traditions for four hours. We had made it just in time for the beginning of the reception. The bride and groom arrived in a decorated car, and sat in the backseat patiently crammed in with the maid of honor and best man while the brass band played festive music and all the women danced in circles around the car. What a welcome. The emcee announced their arrival in Kiswahili and our friends ushered us into a sitting area where we could watch from a distance the ceremonial blessing of the bride and grooms new house. When that was done, the wedding party proceeded to form the receiving line. The line of guests was so long that we were told to eat first before getting in line. Behind one of the buffet tables stood a server wearing a Starbucks apron.

We sat behind a flowery hedge as we ate the delicious meal. The receiving line was on the other side of this hedge, we couldn’t see them without standing up first. Every once in a while, we saw strange things pass by the receiving line and we would stand up to see. The first time, it was a queen-sized bed being carried on the shoulders of several people. The next time it was an assortment of living room furniture: sofas and end tables. Upon standing, we also saw several goat gifts being walked by on leash. Finally, several people carried in roofing metal.

Eventually, we were led to cut into the line (just a bit awkward) where we gave hugs and blessings to the bride and groom. We laughed as Alfred was still putting together the card while in line.

Last night we were able to use the generator for the first time, so we had lights despite the power outage (no hot water or cooking abilities though). This morning we went to a very boisterous and welcoming church. And afterwards, the sun finally came out a bit and we sat by the Arusha Hotel pool chatting with a girl from London.

2009-08-28T04:16:00.000-07:00

To study international peace and conflict resolution, we end up studying a lot of conflicts. We talk easily about how conflict affects a nations infrastructure. What does this specifically mean?? A few of the books I have been reading have given me some ideas. It’s a cause of great suffering, and informal/ extralegal economies spring up to help people cope. Even these specifics though are hard for me to grasp, coming from a place where modern civil war is only conceivable as a competitive term for a football game.

(as of 1997)
Somalia has no banks. It has become a total cash economy.

Haiti became completely bankrupt. (Ironically, no one will invest money in a country with no money)

Haiti’s kids have been out of school for 3 years because teachers cannot be paid. (Similarly, post conflict Rwanda has changed the official language from French to English, but child headed households of Rwanda suffer as they grew up learning French and cannot afford to go back to school to learn the new official language.)

Somalia has no taxi or driver system. However, many would be taxi drivers have found work elsewhere, forming a plethora of untrained bodyguards with automatic weapons for hire.

Haiti also has an emerging profession, termed “body guide”, which refers to a person who will sell information regarding a newly found dead body to journalists. When your unemployment rate is close to 100 percent this seems somewhat less cutthroat?

Relocated refugees and internally displaced people (refugees within their own country: IDPs) place huge strain on tense post conflict armies and resources. In Rwanda, IDPs have been tearing down the gorilla forests to make money by building furniture. This leads to more violence. And lack of reconciliation and money in the country make for volatile soldiers. The siege of Kibeho in Rwanda was thus instigated, where soldiers killed and wounded thousands of refugees while forcibly moving them from their settlements.

In Angola, groups of amputee women affected by the prolific landmines create their own internationally extending informal economies selling produce. They have found ways outside the normal legal means to feed their children despite an unconcerned government.

Violent conflict affects us in so many ways that we never realize. I wish politicians and decision makers would start reading these books before they decide that war is the only solution.

Some fun tidbits from the weekend

2009-08-25T22:52:00.000-07:00

We ate so many cookies.
We ate fresh delicious sugar cane.
We did LAUNDRY! (yes it’s the simple things in life…)
A woman name Tidyness, invited us to her home for breakfast. Out of respect we call her Mama Musa, which means Mama Moses.
I harmonized with some 7th grade girls to a high school musical song on a walk through a maize field. At the end of the walk we found ourselves in a church service led entirely by kids their age. One of my favorite parts was when we sang a hymn that made reference to Satan, but it was pronounced Sat-than.
I heard a lot of dreams and learned a lot about confidence and aspiration from these girls, some as young as 12 already knowing what they want to do with their lives. Accountant, Doctor, Nurse, “Pastoress”.

pictures from our lovely weekend in Usa River.

So this is our last full time week at ICTR. Sunday we leave for a week in Zanzibar (during Ramadan… how cool!) and then another five days will be spent in Rwanda. Then classes begin again! I must say though, I never anticipated how hard it could be to buy a plane ticket. No one takes credit cards here for fear of fraud and we can’t pay over the internet because the only secure way is an expensive money order. (apparently fraud is so high here that I wasnt even allowed onto one air ticket site from Arusha). So, we must pay a travel agent in cash. Mind you we need about 1 ½ times the amount that we can get from any given atm in a day. So we really have to think through this purchase. Not to mention we are subject to the currency exchange from our bank and the travel agent. Where is expedia when you need it???

things to grapple with

2009-08-19T04:26:00.000-07:00

Tanzania's minimum monthly wage is the equivalent of about 41 USD. (we spend this each week on groceries here.) Tanzanian businesses have blocked a proposed raise to 140 USD per month. The life expectancy in Tanzania is 51.5. Both minimum wage and life expectancy are rather on the high side for Sub-Saharan Africa.

There are 191 UN member states; 144 are rated poor countries.

“The Americans had hoisted the refugees aboard their ship and given them food and water, but they were very unfriendly. ‘Angry’ says the (Haitian) man. ‘They said that there were too many people like us and that we were driving them crazy. They did not take us to Guantanamo Bay (which was being used as a refugee camp for Hatians), but straight back to Port-au-Prince. But I still have gran-gou (translates to my life is a vale of tears), and I want to tell that to the Americans at the cinema. Maybe these ones will understand.’” (from my bedtime reading again, of course.)

This makes me wonder how many people we don’t take seriously when they ask for our help. I hope I will be an American that understands.

thoughts on the UN taken from my bedtime reading

2009-08-18T06:19:00.000-07:00

The public has been made to believe that the UN has a life of its own, apart from the member states that in actuality are its very existence. In the eyes of the voting public this makes the worlds politicians seem less responsible for failing missions.

Then they blame people like the former Secretary General Boutrous-Ghali. We have now labeled him as responsible for our failures to intervene in Somalia, Rwanda, Bosnia and Haiti. In Mogadishu Boutrous-Ghali was greeted by a hail of stones, and in Sarajevo crowds spat at him and called him “murderer”. All the while his hands were tied by the presidents of Security Council members such as the U.S. and Russia who were protecting their national interests. And yet, we allowed Boutrous-Ghali to credit himself with blame for failure in Rwanda. Hardly seems fair or accurate. In reality, it is the presidents of member-states that decide which missions the UN undertakes and how much to contribute to the efforts. Failure should be on them.

And still…

Clinton proposed a UN operation in Somalia to “restore hope” and provided troops for the first half of the mission. Soon after its failure, he chastised the UN and suggested they ‘learn when to say no’.

Countries are less than supportive of UN initiatives because they are afraid of the precedent it sets. What is to stop the UN from intervening on my soil? So you keep the UN from actually having any real staying power.

“Peace Missions: pursued on a wing and a prayer (a news report from Washington Post: 1993)

In the UN’s Department of Peacekeeping Operations, the daily 10 am staff meeting is known as ‘Morning Prayers’. As the peacekeepers gather each day to share the bad news on an alphabet of crises from Angola to the former Yugoslavia, they increasingly find themselves with nothing to offer beyond hopeful words.”

The same article notes that the average time to procure a blue helmet or flak jacket for troops is four months. Is it any wonder I am not interested in a peacekeeping job?

Reading all of this really challenged my thoughts, especially about how the UN works at the mercy of its members. I was quite frustrated before I went to bed, so I wrote the following:

Terrified and

Resigned to live in this place that God may have

Forsaken.

I hung my dreams of world peace up long ago, one night with my

Blue helmet.

They wait there dormant and static, while I wait for words like

Equality and Human Rights to mean something to the

already Powerful.

Funny, though, I woke up the next morning laughing with the realization that I had dreamt I was a peacekeeper in constant frustration.

News!

2009-08-16T22:28:00.000-07:00

Rumors are going around our apartments that we will be hooked up to a generator soon. Maybe only a couple more weeks of Monday and Thursday night sandwiches and candles.

Our UN internship is now extended until December. This means we still have full access to the library, gym, duty free store and language classes. Not to mention an extension on our strapped deadlines. I’m really happy about this.

We cooked dinner for 5 people Friday night- 9 including us. Alfred, who we have cooked (VERY POORLY) for in the past was gracious enough to give us a chance to redeem ourselves. And I think we did!

Also, has anyone been watching the news about Sunnis and Shiites in Iraq?? We have been talking about it a lot over here. What are your thoughts?

For all of my family reading this.. would LOVE to read comments from you! Just click where it says comments below a post, and it will walk you through step by step.

Serendipitous Staff Training

2009-08-11T07:31:00.000-07:00

Today we got a last minute, though very thoughtful, invite to a staff training on CV’s and interview processes. This was one of the first signs to me that things are happening here in response to the imminent closure of the Tribunal. Also, it was on conference call to the Hague ICTY so they would be included in the training. “Hello? Hague??” The signal cut out a lot unfortunately, so after the first couple of times this salutation became less funny.

I have never been trained with such a culturally diverse group. There were about sixty of us in the conference room. The diversity was very noticeable within a couple of the statements and questions, such as the following:

The trainer: “Don’t put (on your CV) that you have three wives. Because then I think that is three times more time you’ll need off. Three women needing 100 percent from you means your job won’t be getting 100 percent from you.”

Question from staff about interviews: “Is national dress appropriate?” I was quite jealous when she said yes to this question. I wish I had a national dress. Collared shirts are so passé.

This was such a helpful experience though. IPCR classmates, we will be sure to send you some notes :0)

Getaway Weekend

2009-08-09T23:47:00.000-07:00

new pictures!

I never pegged myself one to love an intimate weekend in the hills with family, tossing around kids on my shoulders and cooking gourmet meals. Okay, truth be told, it would normally have sounded ideal to me if someone else was doing the cooking and holding children.

In fact, this was my weekend. And it was glorious. Selina, Eunice and Melissa have become my family here and I love the time we spend together, lounging around with intellectual books and cheesy movies and alternately talking about petty and weighty things. This weekend we were also accompanied by two U.S. imported dogs, Cookie and Shadow. They were nice, though smelly, company. Apparently our cooking didn’t settle as well with them.

We were in Usa River where Melissa stays during the week. It is pronounced oosa- but allegedly named for its similarities to the US we were told- similarities such as the river and trees and grass. Hm. We stayed on the University of Arusha campus, which is surrounded by five villages and about 25,000 villagers. It is really difficult to tell where the campus ends and village begins. I kept hoping to see Mt Kilimanjaro, but a bunch of toddlers would later inform me it was hiding.

We experimented with spices and no recipes. Managed some great pastas, egg skillets, rosemary potatoes, french toast and cookies! Pretty much we would sit to eat a meal and already be planning the next one. I think I need to send a thank you note to the house owners and let them know I may have discovered a new love through their very own pantry and stove.

We played just about every game we could think of with 20 beautiful kids at an orphanage next door to Melissa’s house. We met them out on the soccer field, in the two- hour playtime between their naps and baths. Red light green light was hilarious. Also, mom, I imparted the experience of “tickle sprinkler” and it was a hit. The greatest thing about this particular orphanage was how wonderful their grounds were. They had an actual house for each group of 10 kids, complete with a living room with framed art, a big open kitchen, and a bathroom with a rubber ducky shower curtain and letter magnets on the wall. It was like a college dorm brilliantly adapted for children.

We used a washing machine! Interestingly enough you have to fill it manually with buckets of water. Washing here is such hard work.

One of the village head chiefs, arguably the most important person across the five villages, came to check on Melissa unannounced. So we met him while in our sweats.

Still, not entirely spaced out on vacation, there were a few things I found to occupy my thoughts. There were many shipping containers interspersed between houses throughout the area, which left me curious of course. And there were a few signs in the people of years of drinking bad water. And the maize was brown and dying from lack of rain water this year but everything around it was green.

back to work today. and wouldn't you know my computer didnt work this morning. EDP techs recognized my name when I called for help, oh you again, huh? This time repairs only took an hour. Progress.

My Literary Reflections on Arusha

2009-08-06T04:10:00.000-07:00

Through a set of wonderful serendipitous events, I have been motivated enough to write some poetry about my stay here in Arusha. I thought I might share a few of these with you now. I have been thinking a lot about place and what that intrinsically means, and the idea of "home" in particular. And how those ideas are different depending on where you are from and what you have access to. Anyway, here:

[Hatari (or perceptions of)]

Jump at car backfire (or deafening gun shots)
Tales of hiding trolls (Lonely Planet dubbed “Mugger’s Bridge”)
Says you who own a car and maintain a salary other than student loans (“Never walk, it isn’t safe!”)

Jump at deafening gun shots (or car backfire)
Lonely Planet dubbed “Mugger’s Bridge” (Tales of hiding trolls)
“Never walk, it isn’t safe!” (Says you who own a car and maintain a salary other than student loans)

[security]
Grown up in the red clay hills among the vineyards and suburbs, the mist and the drizzle surely soaked into my bones to mark me.

Drizzle falls on my skin here and there. In Cork, Kan Tan, Chong Qing, Arusha. Does it move me the same? Does it soak through?

Is it a gift of reminiscence from my home, or a gift of hospitality from this new place beckoning me stay?

May it be a token of security that one day my heart will learn to be at home anywhere, soothed by the drizzle that touches my skin.

[unnamed]
The curves of the land, the colors.
The feel of stepping onto the earth outside your door,
The smells of daily life and the sounds of family gathering.
Separated from the place you love, no matter if it’s a sad circumstance or lustful affair;
These are the things that take your soul back home when your body can’t be there.

An Addendum to Selina's Post: Arusha's Sounds Part 2

2009-08-05T04:44:00.000-07:00

Since reading Selina's blog I have been thinking of more sounds to add to the list.

party trucks that carry wedding parties or funeral parties. They involve a lot of people either singing traditional kiswahili songs or playing marching band style, all from the bed of a pick up
gospel trucks that carry two guys with a microphone and giant speakers in the bed, they drive around town telling the good news in kiswahili. This is especially interesting when they pass the loud wedding party trucks.
buzzing fluorescent lights of our aparments
sound of generators next door when our power is out, at first we thought this was the sound of rain outside, but no, its just the sound of privelege. :0)
large group of men singing and running down the road in red t-shirts. we think they are military or police?
hots pot coming to a boil. they have a very loud and distinct whirring sound that is quite nice.
pigeons mating outside our work windows... errr.
pigeons dive bombing our windows (mine is often open, with no screen, so I get very jumpy at this sound)
on select rainy days, the power at the UN flickers on and off. Its funny how well you can HEAR that. Do you remember the scene in Titanic of the lights flickering on and off in the passageways as the boat filled up with water? That, strangely enough, is what our hallway looks like during these times, just minus the water.

and last night, Eunice and I feel asleep to someone in our apartment complex singing an Arabic ballad.

and today, for the first time since the U.S., I heard a lawn mower. I am still trying to figure out where it was mowing, since the majority of ground here in the city is rocky dirt or concrete.

little victories:

2009-08-04T05:58:00.000-07:00

today I invested in my happiness and bought Nutella. oh the taste of home.

using my wits, Eunice's camera and many phone calls, I was able to get a "new" computer!! Finally, poa basi! i should have been keeping a tally of how many hours that bum computer ate up this last month. probably best I didnt.

since the time between having EDP collect your bad hard drive and return a good one is an average of 4 to 5 hours, I had a great time in the library reading up on Somalia and war and peace atlases.

We found ANOTHER great cheap lunch place, thanks to our dear Gasper. mm, Im still full.

eunice just found a list of the richest foundations in the world!

snake parks and diplomatic dinners.

2009-08-03T05:59:00.000-07:00

On Saturday we went out to "the bush" and had lunch at a wonderfully quiet place owned by a couple that have lived in Arusha for 19 years. We had the whole place to peruse by ourselves, including several small gift shops and a book swap!

Next we went to a snake park. Basically it was a zoo with snakes and other creepy things.

Finally, we went to dinner at Madame Karaso's. She happens to be the Deputy Secretary General of the EAC, and a former member of the Ugandan parliament. And she would NOT let our glasses or plates sit empty. It was a wonderful, relaxing evening FULL of laughter.

A new photo album...

new pictures added!

2009-07-31T05:42:00.001-07:00

Had quick enough internet today to add some pictures!

Update on Dinners and Recent Plan B’s and C's

2009-07-30T04:20:00.001-07:00

Update on Dinners:
Yesterday we had a wonderful dinner with our UN supervisor (soon to be our academic director at Arcadia) and his lovely family. They stuffed us with sweet potatoes, skewered pork and fish, plantains and Cantonese rice. I realized halfway through dinner that my face hurt from smiling so much. It felt so comfortable to be sitting together with a family. We told them tales of our inability to cook and they took pity on us and sent us home with leftovers and an open invitation to their kitchen for informal lessons (especially Mondays and Thursdays when we are without electricity.)

The night before we were cooked for by our new dear friend Ben. Spaghetti Bolognese made with Kenyan beef (I have NEVER had better beef- supposedly this is second best in the world, we were told Argentinian beef takes first?) and garlic bread and green salad! These are delicacies here, the meat is expensive and the salad is hard to clean. We eat most of our vegetables cooked for this reason.

Also, last night Selina pointed out that of the 4 meals we have had prepared for us, 3 of them have been prepared by men! I like Tanzania. :0)

Recent Plan B’s and C’s:
My computer at the UN is still broken. Yesterday it rebooted in the middle of my work 4 times. After 6 unproductive IT visits they came to take my hard drive away today. Plan B, I thought, I will just walk next door to school to use the computers. However, the computers at school were ghosted last night to be cleaned of viruses. Therefore they also do not work today.

So I sit here now drinking hot chocolate (which apparently is not sweet here) trying to decide plan C.

And I pass on to you the phrase I learned today:
Poa basi! (good luck today)

Interview with a Defence Lawyer at ICTR

2009-07-29T05:45:00.000-07:00

Eunice, Selina and I managed to get an informal interview with a Defence Lawyer here at the tribunal and we asked him as many questions as we could manage in 30 minutes. I feel there is already much to think about. Below is a summary of the conversation that I found most interesting (and I am sure you can refer to Eun and Lina's blogs for a slightly different take soon- you can only write down so much in an interview without being rude..). I will refer to him as DL since we havent clarified whether he minds this being posted.

DL began practicing as an independent defence lawyer in Paris. Through his connection to another laywer that specialized in refugee law he was given the opportunity to visit Nairobi and Arusha to check out the newly established tribunal. DL referred to international criminal law as a new creation of the Hague and Arusha. He also specified that it was not something he was able to specialize in as a student, it didnt exist then.

At first, the ICTR was going to follow a model more like Nuremburg, where one joint trial would be held for all the accused (hard to imagine now as we sift through the 90 plus names of accused/convicted). According to DL, who became part of the volunteer defence counsel for this reason, there were different ideas on defence strategies. At first, the accused might have claimed that the genocide did not exist, or that the genocide of the Tutsis was actually in defense of a previous genocide of the Hutus. However, DL says no one has used this as a strategy, they have opted instead to appear more reasonable and cooperative with the court by claiming that, "there may have been a genocide, but I was not a part of it" (aka not guilty). He mentioned that a good defence strategy might even be to say that the court of a political body (the U.N.) that did nothing to stop a genocide has no place to judge a person on such a matter, though no one has used this. Regardless, DL believes individual trials have proven to move more quickly in most cases.

When asked how the ICTR might be contributing to reconciliation, DL mentioned the Nuremburg trials once again. It wasn't these that brought reconciliation, though the trials were a very neccesary step in international law. Rather, it was the economic boost that helped bring reconciliation to Europe.

When asked how he reconciles morals with representing the accused, DL emphasized that the defence is crucial to a fair trial as every accused has the right to a defendant. This he percieves as another important aspect in the overall attempt to ease conflict in the region. (The idea that assuring fair trials may limit the amount of later uprisal or backlash between Hutus and Tutsis).

One of the most thought provoking things he said was this: We need another 100 years of international criminal law before a culture of impunity might be ended and replaced with a culture of human rights. It will take more than just this tribunal to end genocides.

For my classmates especially:

DL compared the ICC to the ICTR and said the two organizations have the same achievements and same difficulties. He didnt go too much beyond that, but I would be interested to hear your thoughts on this statement..

Arusha: a Lesson in Problem Solving or Rolling with the Punches

2009-07-26T23:14:00.000-07:00

“I always have a plan B and C, because A never works here.”
-my wise classmate Melissa Martelly

Yesterday we spent a relaxing couple of hours by a beautiful lagoon style pool at Arusha Hotel. Inspired by hunger pangs and a sense of relaxation Eunice and I decided to splurge on a double decker toasted ham and cheese sandwich with brown bread. About 20 minutes later the waiter brought out a covered plate and with a lavish flick of the wrist he revealed… a handful of fried cheese poppers. Our looks of disappointment must have clued him in, and he was very sweet and apologetic. He still didn’t seem to totally understand so we obliged and ate the cheese poppers. Feeling sorry for ourselves and still in the mood to splurge we ordered a slice of their highly lauded apple pie with ice cream. Ten minutes later with another flick of the wrist and a declaration of “apple pie” from our waiter, we found ourselves looking at a brownie and melted ice cream. As it turns out there are a couple people here who don’t totally comprehend the concept of ice cream and had microwaved the whole plate.

We found out later from our friend Ben that there is an ex-pat legend about Arusha Hotel’s kitchen. Waiters write your order and then proceed to tack it onto a roulette board in the back with all of the other orders, whereby the cook does the honor of choosing your fate with a quick spin of the board.

As long as we can laugh, right?

Speaking of laughing, I had an interesting conversation with a woman from Nairobi the other night. She was telling us about the Obama hype in Kenya. Of course, kids are being named after him left and right. The unusual thing is that they are taking all three names: Senator Barack Obama.

I have dined sufficient... you say you went fishin?

2009-07-22T22:51:00.000-07:00

This is Bill, our new English friend. He brought us groceries last night and directions to his house in Essex, so we gave him some Tanzanian cognac (Konyagi).

Here is Miles, from San Fran, showing us how to cook a great dish (we were all sitting on the couch listening to instruction carefully- better than food network!)

Don't worry, we even helped a little! Here's Eun and I cutting up fresh tomatoes and mozzarella.

yum! good company and a long anticipated wonderful dinner! They even brought bread and butter and white wine. And we sliced a mango for dessert.

They left us with the recipe and most of the leftover ingredients, so we are eager to try this on our own. Hooray! One meal we know how to cook here!

My life in Arusha as a comedy

2009-07-22T03:52:00.000-07:00

We ate lunch yesterday at “immigration.” We might eat at the bank next week. Apparently these are the cafeterias made for employees of the office that become popular with employees of other offices. Immigration lunch was only 2 bucks.

Our lunch date at immigration was Ishmael from Mauritania. We decided together that if he will take us to mosque, we will take him to church. Somehow we got on the discusion of having children. Selina made things interesting by telling Ishmael, a man whose father is a polygamist from a country with Sharia law and has “many” brothers and sisters, that we didn’t want to have children.

We decided to take advantage of the ICTR gym while we are here. Strangely enough the locker room actually is MADE of what seems to be a UN shipping container. Never thought I would change clothes in one of those. Picture 3 girls doing step aerobics in a covered area with shipping containers on one side and mirrors on the other.

Power in my neighborhood is SCHEDULED to go out from 6:30-10pm every Monday and Thursday night. This ruins a lot of people’s meals. We lost a whole pot of spaghetti. Then we heard about an expensive Kenyan steak gone to waste for being to rare to eat and a 4 course half prepared banquet being left on the power company’s doorstep in frustration.

We have watched 7 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy in the last two nights. So much for pacing ourselves with the only season we have in our possession. You should have heard us when we found out our friend, whose name I have sworn not to give away with reference to this story, informed us he has seasons 2 and 3 just waiting to be loaned out.

We are still really terrible at shopping and cooking here. Thus, my stomach was growling loudly during a visit last night from our new British neighbor and friend, Ben. As we told him the stories of our ridiculous meals and my stomach continued to growl, he kept asking, are you hungry- can I go get you something?? The concern on his face somehow made it more comical that we haven’t been eating “proper” meals.

Around that same time I got a text message from our other British friend who has been amused with our eating predicament, “Do you still want us to come over tomorrow and make you dinner? We will bring everything.” :0) definitely looking forward to that.

working for an international genocide tribunal

2009-07-19T05:04:00.000-07:00

Since 1994, the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda has been seeking to end the legacy of impunity associated with genocide and crimes against humanity. There have been somewhere around 40 people tried, and only six people acquitted. Still, after 15 years there are MANY outstanding indictments. The tribunal was supposed to close first in 2007, but even now 11 trials are taking place. How do you shut down a court of law that was established as temporary but has not completed its task?

As interns we have been tasked with several interesting (though tedious, of course) projects. The one we have been working on most immediately is an assessment of a major multifaceted project that attempts to strengthen the impact of the tribunal within Rwanda. This is really important since the ICTR is physically removed from Rwanda and much of the Rwandese population is illiterate and unable to access internet. The financial and narrative report that we produce is to be handed over to the European Union, who has generously funded these activities.

The workload has been interesting since both of our supervisors are now off site and my computer continues to shut off at random intervals. We also had one day last week that the UN network crashed on our floor. The obstacles seem to be an interesting mix of overstretched Tanzanian infrastructure (i.e. power supply) and overly ambitious bureaucratic tactics of a large organization.

Upon frustration with set backs, we have been frequenting the downstairs library and the courtrooms. Last Tuesday we sat in the public gallery for the sentencing of one of the accused; Renzaho. I have never seen anything like it. The man was in front of us, though we sat separated from the courtroom by glass windows, receiving all this information totally straight faced. A couple of times I watched him shake his head in disagreement with the evidence presented- I was just picturing him thinking, no no you got that one wrong. Puts the truth in interesting perspective as you realize that one, the accused was the only one in the courtroom who knew what he had and had not done, and two, that the laws heralded in the court necessarily attempt to get at this knowledge through witnesses. Quite an indirect procedure.

As we watched, Renzaho was convicted of five counts of genocide, murder and rape as crimes against humanity and in regards to the Geneva Conventions. He was sentenced to life in prison for these “blunders”. And we all left the tribunal for lunch. Talk about surreal!

The experience has already generated a lot of questions for me that I am hoping to consider further. For example, I have seen evidence that when someone is brought to the tribunal they are (unfortunately) assumed guilty. The only way they may be acquitted is if the defence can discredit the witnesses (which is potentially easier in the case of genocide as the “good” witnesses are often being threatened and scared into silence). The reversal of the notion of innocent until proven guilty may be a simple issue of humanity. An accusation of genocide is quite heavy compared to theft; it may be difficult for a person to remain objective in the face of such a charge.

playing free word association

2009-07-17T07:14:00.000-07:00

words that come to mind when I think of . . .

old house:
damp, cold, dark, cows, mt. meru view, someone else’s space, hungry, lonely, wet cement, pretty plants, wet bathrooms, suitcases

new house:
open, spacious, COUCH, kitchen, dishes, closets, reliable electrical outlets, OUR SPACE.

MORE IMPORTANTLY... I have posted facebook pictures.

Directions: How to get to ICTR from Mama Lydia's Guest House

2009-07-14T22:52:00.000-07:00

No joke... this is how we get to work every day!

Go straight up the driveway past the cows and banana tree.

Walk through the wet cement, at end of driveway turn right.

Go straight to the end of Kanisa Road, passing the Catholic youth hostel on your right and salon sign on your left.

Turn right onto Old Moshe Road and pass the Anglican church on your right (where we are brand new choir members!)

Keep straight. Say "shikamo" to sweet elderly lady sitting on your right who will smile beautifully and respond "marahaba". Sometimes give her fruit from breakfast.

Pass over bridge quickly. Take note of scenic water fall and forest to your right while using peripheral vision to scan under bridge for thiefs. Do not stop to take pictures.

Keep straight and pass SUPER DOLL sign and Goodyear tire store on right and Arusha's five star hotel with GREAT coffee on left.

Decline dala dala (giant van taxi) ride and pass through masses of waiting patrons.

Bear right through Onyx Petrol station. Clock tower will be on your left.

Wave to rafikis (friends) sitting on wall across the street. Continue straight past Kase bookstore on your right and wish you could stop to peruse. Must be mindful of cars aiming at you on this street.

Continue straight on balance beam (aka curb so you can avoid traffic). Politely wait for street sweeper with bamboo broom and wheel barrow to let you pass.

Say mambo vipi (whats up) to taxi drivers and decline ride. Wave to tree of loud sleeping bat colony.

Pass taxidermist sign ("We tan dip and ship,") storks and turtles on left, continue straight through German fort museum. Upon exiting say hello to cultural center artisians on right. Typically a surprise here. Past surprises include giant sand hill in walkway or wedding.

Say mambo vipi to taxi drivers and decline ride. Continue straight while watching security guard use long mirror to check underneath select cars. Wonder how they select cars.

Pass right into security check point, put bags through x-ray, set off metal detector and be waved through casually. Badge does not work at this gate so you will be let through without identification.

pole sana

2009-07-13T23:48:00.000-07:00

I have been debating whether to share my most recent experience online. If possible, I would call each of you individually and explain what has happened so that you would have the personal assurance that I am fine.

I ask you please, if you are someone that cares about me, read this entry in its entirety. Trust all of my words, including those that say I am well. And as much you are able, try to understand the circumstances through a lens that is objective.

I have already talked to my parents; they know all the details. I am hoping they are able to stand in as my vocal reassurance if you need any.

As I have already shared with you, Tanzanians have been nothing but welcoming since I arrived. Not only hospitable, but also generous, both with time and explanations of how to go about daily life in Arusha.

Friday night my traveling companions and good friends Selina and Eunice and I joined a group of UN interns for dinner at a ritzy Ethiopian restaurant. The three of us arrived early and had a great meal of injera and beans and vegetables and beef. I enjoyed our time with the other interns so much! We were savoring a glass of wine and the other interns were waiting on their food when we heard a loud noise we weren’t quite able to place. “Was that the oven?” one of the interns suggested. We look around us curiously trying to place the noise.

Suddenly, we hear the noise again, but magnified, as a man runs up onto the porch and shoots an ak47 into the ceiling, “Everyone down!” He shouts. We all rush to take cover under our tables. I didn’t even notice the pain of sitting with my sandaled feet underneath me on the hard tile. I was too focused on the sight of the man with the gun in front of me, gathering purses from the floor with his feet, while he and his partner exchanged yells in another language. I saw his face, but don’t remember it, aside from the concentration and adrenaline etched into it. Then I made myself look down at the floor. As far as I know he never looked at one of us, he was able to cut our humanity clean away from us in what perhaps he considered a business transaction. I was holding onto Selina next to me. We were both shaking. My new friend Rebecca was holding onto me and praying aloud, “We came to do a good thing, please protect us”. A demand? A plea? A bargain? 2 more shots were fired, but no one was hurt. Though the last shot fired killed the parrot in the window feet away from us. The sound of it instantly muted my hearing. I tried to prepare myself for any possible sight or feeling that may come next. Thankfully, once they had all they wanted they ran out. We stayed underneath the tables for a couple minutes until someone was sure they had gone completely. When I stood up, I noticed that my purse, despite being bright blue and orange and sequined, was still laying in the middle of the floor. What in the world? So I still have my passport, my ipod, camera, wallet, etc. I only lost my phone. Apparently we were supposed to be briefed on what not to carry by UN security when we first arrived. Though Id say that was sufficient enough briefing.

Soon after, the police and UN security arrived to take care of us. We were escorted to a friend’s place so we could all stay together. In fact, I believe we were technically squatters that night- staying in a hotel room within a very secure villa that our friend has access to.

I think I slept a total of 30 minutes. The adrenaline just kept me thinking.

What desperation allowed someone to take our dignity and safety like that?

Why wasn’t I angrier?

Why didn’t they hurt us?

How many people in the world experience this kind of fear on a daily basis? (This thought alone was quite humbling)

I believe this kind of thing happens everywhere. And it troubles me to tell you, because this type of crime is NOT representative of Tanzanians. Our new friend Peter helped us all day Saturday with his many connections, replacing our phones, finding safe atms and restaurants, and filing a police report at the station. Everywhere people are friendly and want to take us on as their sisters or daughters. Our new friend Alfred spent a couple days last week searching for houses we might be able to move to.

Anyone who hears about the restaurant mishap shakes their head with regret and sighs, “pole, pole sana.” (I’m very sorry.)

SO now to find the balance between caution and normal life.

Of course, there are so many other things I would love to share with you about my experience here! If you are interested or have time, check Eunice and Selina's blogs on the right side of my page for more stories, or at least the same stories through different eyes. Eunice has a great one right now, about our experience with with a Tanzanian born Indian man who took us on a tour of Arusha that included an undercover arrest....

unforeseen circumstances..

2009-07-11T06:51:00.000-07:00

All the things I had been planning to write are confused and mixed up in my head today. There is this dichotomy that exists within Tanzania that has left my mind reeling.

All is well and will expand as soon as I can.

working for a big organization in Tanzania...

2009-07-10T07:40:00.000-07:00

I attempted blogging yesterday, during TWO of my breaks. Each time my computer shut off. I thought the executive powers were telling me something. no blogging, even IF this is your only source of internet today, your work is done and your family is waiting impatiently to hear about your adventures.

Then it occured to me... my computer was actually shutting off everytime the power surged. A few of you may know how often that happens in Africa... So I put in a request for a surge protector. Today came and still no surge protector. So I was creating an excel file on a pad of paper and then during periods of good power typing them quickly into a table on my computer. I think today my computer shut off about 4 times before 11am when I gave up on it completely. Around 1230 a man came in to look at it. (Mind you he was the 3rd person representing a 3rd department to come try to fix the issue). He shuffled my furniture a bit, looked around... and then he did this magic thing. He unplugged the computer and plugged it into a different socket. a socket that was apparently MADE to withstand Tanzanian power surges.

So there is my story for today. tomorrow will be another good one, I promise.

and turns out we may have found a WONDERFUL apartment... we are just waiting for the management to kick the current inhabitants out... :0)

karibu ni Tanzania!

2009-07-01T23:26:00.000-07:00

Tanzania has been nothing but welcoming since we set foot on her beautiful soil.

I am busy with remembering names, time and money conversions, how to say good morning, and the way to walk between work and home. Below is the clock tower that has become one of our landmarks on the walk. The flat screen t.v.'s show "Tanzania National Park" video footage.

We found out last night, while chatting with the owner of our guest house Mama Lydia, that our rooms are not intended for long stays. In fact, 3 weeks is the longest someone has stayed in them. This explains why we have no drawers and only 5 hangers. Mama Lydia explained to us that she was actually expecting us to use this as a transitional place until we could find somewhere to make a home. In the meantime, we bought a few large wicker baskets to put our clothes in. We are hoping to find a place in the next few weeks, before Mama Lydia's daughter has her wedding at the guest house. We are invited to the wedding (yay!) but will have to move to a hostel so Mama Lydia can accomodate her family. Below is a picture of me trying to stay warm in the room Selina and I share.

Our UN internship started yesterday! We were briefed on our task to help prepare for the impending closure of the tribunal. I could not be more pleased with the description! We were given our UN security badges, and a binder full of readings to catch us up on the tribunal and our assignment. We were told to destroy it at the end of our time with the UN. Tomorrow we will have our offices AND a letter of acceptance to the internship. hmm. interstingly enough, the two men who would be capable of supervising our task have both resigned in the last month. The one who briefed us yesterday leaves in two weeks, but has agreed to supervise us remotely despite his resignation, from the US of all places. We are quite impressed with his comittment to us as interns.

My fingers are sufficiently frozen so here I will end. Still trying to figure out the computer situation.. so I appreciate your patience with updates. We have access to internet via the dial up computers at our school. (see below) It might be easier for us to update on weekends from a wireless cafe.

when there is nothing to write but everything to feel...

2009-06-14T20:52:00.000-07:00

enjoying a few quick moments back in Oregon.
writing papers.
staying out late.
drinking personally imported costa rican coffee.
and trying to transition from there to there to there to here to there with less emotion than I am capable of.

things i learned on my latest east coast road trip:

2009-05-19T12:59:00.000-07:00

1. don't underestimate the ability for people of extremely different groups to coexist. the Amish and the "English" seem to have it figured out. here is a great example of amiable amish and english neighbors.

2. passports are no joke.. even Canada won't let you in these days without one. being deported from Canada, however, is kind of a joke. they just escort you across the street. furthermore, leaving a country without a passport is just a bit risky. the Canadians were kind enough to provide this document that would allow us back into the U.S. though.

3. Lake Erie is really big. so big it doesnt fit in a picture. so just imagine it here.

4. Pittsburgh is really easy to get lost in and the people in Pittsburgh seem to make up arbitrary and senseless directions. But they are quite hospitable and enjoying sharing their city views. (this next picture is Don- the hospitable pittsburgher and his city view) Also, all cities look prettier at night.

5. Although overall a very nice city DC has too many tourist buses. And their parking garages are very confusing. and the white house is not that impressive. (do you see the little smidgen of white in the the back of this picture??)

6. people south of DC talk FUNNY. but they are quite hospitable with all their "'preciate its". they also think chicken and waffles go well together.

7. its not just philly that has a problem with abandoned buildings. you can see consequences of a slow economic decline and bad policies all up and down the east coast. its a shame that they just sit there and no one seems to be creative enough to figure out a solution.

to my dear neglected followers...

2009-05-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

Wow, that was an unnecessary but gratifying title. There may still be a few of you sitting on the edge of your chairs wondering "what in the world is my dear Michelle doing?" I started this blog with the intent of keeping you posted... my apologies for falling behind. :0)

With that said, I am almost done with my first year of grad school! One more project to go. I can't believe how much I have learned. Yesterday I spent the day trying to come up with a comprehensive plan to deal with Israel's national security threats along side following the peace process. The next couple of days I will be working on a proposal for a post-conflict development project for East Africa that details a plan to use human rights education and other tools to keep genocide from happening again.

here are some pictures to peruse through if you like:

trips to Connecticut, Massachusetts and Maine

Philly and NYC adventures

trips home to Oregon and San Fran (NEW NEPHEW!)

and here I will leave you with a photo to sum up my year. don't think too hard about it, it will ruin it.

nonviolence or nonexistence

2009-03-26T11:19:00.000-07:00

...Christianity is one of the most peaceful of religions and everybody seems to know that except for Christians. (paraphrase of Gahndi)

Last night I listened to the lecture of a Jesuit priest who has been arrested 75 times for non-violent
protests. Using words from some of the greatest voices for peace of our century he made a pretty convincing case for becoming an advocate for non-violence.

"It is no longer a choice between violence and nonviolence, its nonviolence or nonexistence." Dr M.L.K.

wow. let that really sink in for a second. there are over 30 different wars going on in the world right now. that is a lot of destruction.

Up until last night I thought I was completely against violence. And then he pushed me. Lets get rid of the just war theory. because violence is never just. it is always wrong.

what then of Darfur? will people in power respond to something other than violence?

Really would love to hear your thoughts on this. Sure we all can say we love peace. But do we have faith and hope enough in peace that we can imagine and work toward NO war?

By the way...

2009-03-01T16:17:00.000-08:00

Wednesday March 4th, the International Criminal Court will decide whether to issue an arrest warrant for Sudan's president al Bashir, for genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity. Bashir is the first head of state to be considered for indictment.

Furthermore, the pretrial judges making this decision, -- Akua Kuenyehia of Ghana, Sylvia Steiner of Brazil and Anita Usacka of Latvia -- are all women!

Dependency Cycle

2009-03-01T16:02:00.000-08:00

People are often concerned with how dependent other countries are on foreign aid, how dependent the homeless are on handouts, and how dependent the world is on oil.

Today, I was humbled by a dependence that I was perhaps not ready to be cognizant of.

When you live in a suburb like Glenside and don't have much time, money or a car at your disposal, it is VERY challenging to buy local food. What's more, even if you have managed to find a local item, do you recognize the names of all the ingredients? (My latest measure, if I get bored or confused reading the ingredients list the item is not for me. this will either improve my food selection or my concentration abilities. win win.) At some point it seems you actually have to choose between local and healthy.

SO there is some frustration here today.

The Lenten Season

2009-02-25T06:14:00.000-08:00

Ash Wednesday is one of my very favorite of all the Christian traditions. This day allows for imagining life and mortality a little differently and it marks the beginning of a 40 day period of introspection and deliberate lifestyle choices. It only takes 10 days to make a habit, right?

I have been thinking for some time now whether there was anything I would like to challenge myself to giving up in celebration of this annual age old tradition. None of my ideas struck me as very worthwhile. Until, on the Eve of Ash Wednesday (more commonly known as Fat Tuesday I am sure,) my roommate and I worked out a plan.

Thus, today marks the beginning of our eating project. This week, we are going to make a point to read the ingredients of everything we eat from our cupboards and do some research to find out where the food was made and how much energy it took to make it.

The following week we will try to purchase food that is only local and/ or in whole (non-processed) form. And over the next few weeks we will hopefully continue to refine our process of eating more sustainably.

missing:

2009-02-22T16:33:00.001-08:00

spiral bound journal/piece of my memory. 6 x 9 in. hard cover. contains dreams and fanciful stories of many distant lands.

the intersection between genius, insanity, creativity and spirituality

2009-02-11T10:43:00.000-08:00

The connection between genius and insanity is recognized by many and it seems to be a very fine line. A person who has enough creative genius, whether artistic, mathematic, or whatever (good question actually- how many types of genius are there and how are they classified?) might border the line between what we would deem unprecedented intelligence and ingenuity and neurotic tendency. Perhaps it depends on the day. I'm picturing Russel Crowe in "A Beautiful Mind".

I was on the train to the airport this morning at O dark:30
trying to stay awake when I started thinking
about this. A minute or so before the train stops people typically line up at the door to make a quick exit. There was one particular man this morning who I was fascinated by. He was in his seventies at least, and looked a tad bit shaky on his feet as he stood up at the door. As I watched, he reached into the pocket of his knee length winter coat and pulled out a rosary. He kissed it and crossed himself before getting
off the train. I was so struck by the act, whether he was giving thanks for the safe journey or blessing the day to come I will never know.

As I continued to watch, I saw him moving his lips to recite a prayer. And then it occurred to me, this man full of faith and fervor looked a lot like a man talking to himself in neurotic ramblings.

If genius and insanity and creativity seem to be so interdependent, should it surprise me that something like religion might fit into this mix?
After all, is spirituality not a creative recognition of that which we can only imagine? So should not those with the highest levels of creativity, and possibly even insanity be those with the highest amount of spirituality?

The man on the train will continue to serve me with a powerful image of faith and commitment to tradition. I am not proposing that religion is insanity, only that there seems a somewhat causal relationship between creative genius, insanity and the capacity for spirituality.

Is it permissible to say that religion is an intersection
between genius and insanity?

milk: how far have we come with civil rights?

2009-02-01T12:36:00.000-08:00

I have been working diligently on writing my thesis question. The trick is to find something that within one sentence outlines a real world puzzle to be solved. I have found that it is an interesting way of framing the the things you think about every day.

Take for example, Oscar nominated movies. I watched Milk last night. About a San Francisco city supervisor who was working against the debilitating Briggs Initiative of 1978. The initiative was unsuccessful in its goal: to structurally legitimize discrimination based on sexuality by banning homosexuals and their supporters from working in public schools. It brings tears to my eyes to think of how close California was to revoking the rights of its citizens over something so harmless as sexuality.

Thank God that every year the human race progresses, thinks more, learns more, develops more, and hurts less.

And here is our puzzle to drive our thoughtful dissertation- if the above statement is anywhere close to accurate, how is it that Proposition 8 passed not 30 years later in California, changing the constitution to structurally discriminate and withhold civil freedoms? How is this progress?

Why can't we just let people live in peace with their rights intact? Let God be the judge of all of us for our lifestyles. We will see which sin is truly greater in the end- homosexuality, or purposely creating economic and social hardship for our brothers and sisters based on our own meager judgments.

I found a wild thing and a produce stand/bakery in my suburb!

2009-01-30T14:53:00.000-08:00

These things did my heart wonders today . . .

Entered into my most beloved and sacred topic of conversation this afternoon: the kind regarding photography.

Walked into a precious local produce shop that was until this day completely hidden from me. It is only a few blocks away from my apartment; they sell homemade soups and fresh baked breads!

Heard a yelling match between two squirrels in the icy trees.

where do you find wild things or bakeries in the suburbs

2009-01-27T08:20:00.000-08:00

“When despair for the world grows in me, and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be -- I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought or grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.”

Wendell Berry

the trek to witness history in action

2009-01-25T16:26:00.000-08:00

what is this WINTER that tortures me so?

2009-01-15T12:42:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot about weather lately. Perhaps because the transition was hard to ignore, from a foot of snow and ice in Salem to the hot thunderstorms of Kampala to the icy cold and bleak of Philadelphia.

Did you know that people outside of Europe and America dont identify with all four seasons? Ugandans told me they only distinguish between the rainy and hot seasons. What fortune.

Apparently I am not cut out for cold winters. To begin with, I am a bit naive about what cold is. I got off the plane in NYC in my flip flops. Unfortunately, my connecting flight to Philly had been canceled and I was left to my own devices, and insufficient winter clothing, to get back to my apartment. I can't tell you how many people gawked at my bare feet. I kept telling them I had just come from Africa and they seemed to be satisfied. But what I really wanted to tell them was that I have grown up in a place where winter does not mean you cant just throw on a pair of shorts and flips to grab something from the car in your driveway. Perhaps there are 4 and a half days during Salem's typical winter where it would seem ridiculous to do such a thing.

In this weeks forecast the high is not rising above 27 degrees. Tomorrow the high is 15. (I might be less dramatic about this temperature if I wasn't walking 3 miles every day back and forth to school.)

Some funny things that happen during winter in less temperate climates like the Northeast:
-people have to think about climbing snowbanks.
-the roads and sidewalks are a chalky white from the de-icing material - adding to the winter wonderland look. just don't get this chalky white on your clothes from climbing snowbanks.
-there are people who are employed to plow roads rather than the city just relying on volunteers.

Let me just leave you with this last picture. I wanted to be warm today. So I dressed in two pair of sweatpants, three sweatshirts, a knit hat, and mittens. This seemed to suffice until the wind picked up. No amount of clothing can combat this wind. So I began to jog home. I think I looked a little like Rocky. I'm going in true Philly fashion I suppose.

stateside again

2009-01-11T10:24:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling a bit rummy from the travels and the drastic change in weather but wanted to at least share a few pictures.

dubai and uganda album

the river nile and kampala

snowed in and contemplating

2008-12-16T18:19:00.000-08:00

who would believe that you could learn so much in only 2 weeks? studying for comprehensive finals will do that for you I suppose. as will stepping out of your element no matter how briefly.

this past weekend I went on a day adventure to new york city, via the chinatown bus, in search of holiday spirit. that was exactly what we found in manhattan amidst a seemingly inexhaustible crowd. it was so bitterly cold that we actually bought hats and extra pairs of gloves from street vendors.

(rockefeller center)

we also celebrated the end of our semester, all our hard work and new found friendships, with a holiday party. Our Ukranian host let me sample some russian standard (I dont advise you do this) and we had plenty of homemade, week-old eggnog.

(party smiles)

and so I am thankful for another semester's end. when else but in school are you able to gauge exactly what you should have learned in a finite period of time? and when else but in school are you given a 2-4 week break in which to contemplate your epiphanies before starting again?

... which leaves me here, at home in Oregon, snowed in and enjoying the thought of measuring my life in neat little rows of semesters.

(snow pepper!?)

Recession Declared Monday

2008-12-02T18:28:00.000-08:00

“In the long term, moving from poverty to wealth is probably the most effective means to improve all forms of human security” -Gleditch

In the face of economic recession I ask you to think about this. What would it look like to move EVERYONE to "wealth" and "human security"?

HOME

2008-11-23T20:26:00.000-08:00

the best part about flying is who I meet in the process. I think I might like to write a book and dedicate a chapter to each of these interesting people. maybe Ill start writing it the next time Im stuck in the Philly airport- since that is pretty much inevitable.

today I was driving down state st. and was stopped for several minutes waiting for the geese to cross the road. precious.

as I write my international law paper...

2008-11-20T21:17:00.000-08:00

These past few nights have been characterized by late night paper writing sessions with a couple of classmates.

Every once in a while we look up from our research, push the glasses back up on our noses, and share something exciting we have just learned.

Ranging from humanitarian policies of China and the sovereignty of Tibet to the effectiveness of war tribunals in Cambodia and the UN's response to the genocide in Darfur.

In the light of my international law paper writing, I would like to pose this quote (thanks to my roomie and late night study pal) for you to consider...

"The law is ... a weapon of the stronger ... Law reflects not any fixed ethical standard, but the policy and interests of the dominant group in a given state at a given period. As such, 'Politics and law are indissolubly interwined.'"

E. H. Carr

the culture in my livingroom

2008-11-09T14:43:00.000-08:00

I'm loving the people here in Philly. I have never in my life been surrounded with so many different accents and worldviews. How could you not thrive in an environment like that?

For example, this evening I was sitting in my living room listening to a conversation between my Bulgarian roommate and her Ethiopian friend from Kenya discuss the birthday traditions of their respective countries. They had quite a lot in common...

in Kenya- the tradition is to catch the birthday kid by surprise by dumping a bucket of water on them.

in Bulgaria- they are much more polite about the matter, they limit the amount of water to a small cup and make sure the water is at least room temperature. How sweet.

To see two people who come from polar opposite backgrounds- who look, dress and sound completely different from each other; to watch them tonight in their differences find something in common spoke to me so highly of humanity.

learning to share space: thoughts on N. Ireland

2008-11-02T15:23:00.000-08:00

Here are a few questions I am pondering as I debrief from my trip to Ireland.

Is violence the key to having your voice heard? Is there another way for oppressed people to speak up?

In Ireland's case it seems likely that the Catholics would never have gained a voice had they not used violence. Is there some mechanism we could set up internationally that allows groups to be heard without first proving their worth through violence?

How do we transform symbols that perpetuate violence into symbols that perpetuate peace?

The symbols of "the troubles" run rampant in N. Ireland. Peace walls that segregate communities, murals that make political statements about each group's identity, memorials to freedom fighters/terrorists (depending on who you talk to), bonfires that desecrate the symbols of the other faction, curbs that are painted with the colors of your cause; all these make it easy to know whose neighborhood you are in.

Mediators are struggling with questions of whether or not to begin the process of integration. Each group seems to feel that the end of segregation would mean the end of their own group identity. The interface set-up brings quick security to a neighborhood. In fact, one could argue that the segregation emboldens a community to boast their identity with more fervor.

quick facts:
the UK spends 1.5 billion pounds a year to maintain segregation in northern ireland. because of course, if you dont trust the people on the other side of the peace wall why would you go use their swimming pool? Their must be maintained two of everything, one on each side of the wall.

Since 1994, there have been 9 new peace barriers built- one of which was built within an integrated public school (which there are very few of).

The peace walls belong to the communities, as do the bonfires, murals and memorials.
Unfortunately, it seems to be no deterrent that many of these symbols are illegal. No one is willing to challenge the community's right to these symbols.

Will people let go of symbols that perpetuate violence if they are presented with an alternative that offers more long-term security of identity?

How much do you need your truth?
Is there a balance to be found that forgets some of the facts about the past in order to make amends for the future? Forgetting the past grievances in N. Ireland leaves baggage, but pursuing the details of past grievances could destabilize the relative peace that exists now.

If we cannot solve the conflict in Northern Ireland, a developed and wealthy nation with a history of relative friendly international and intranational relations, how can we expect to solve conflicts in impoverished and historically unfriendly nations?

To sum, my trip to Ireland left me with more questions than answers and more confusion than resolve. The situation is not simple, but it is clear that the lives and identities of people are at stake. So keep thinking.

to see more of my pictures:
ireland
and
sectarian things

peace walls and tourism

2008-10-28T01:43:00.000-07:00

My wanderlust has not been satisfied with this trip. In fact it is only growing. Being here in such a deeply divided society discussing conflict transformation with people from all over the world is barely whetting my appetite.

currently in Belfast... I spent last night in a long winded political discussion with two Aussies, a Turk and a Palestinian. How could your world view NOT expand from that?

sad I am missing out on the phillies pandemonium in the states though...

maybe credentials don't matter?

2008-10-18T09:27:00.000-07:00

After my last post, I was pretty much bombarded with encour- agement from various people, many of whom didn't even know I needed it. Thank you.

Thus, I rescind my fatalistic outlook on the role of women in peacemaking. :0) That's not to say I don't still see an imbalance in the way things are run. In fact, the gender issue still really burdens me. I am strangely thankful though for the discrimination I have encountered in the last couple of years. At least it allows me to identify and empathize with people outside the dominant culture group.

Thought to ponder:
The more equal the society, the less likely it is to use military force

credentials I'll never have

2008-10-16T05:14:00.000-07:00

Apparently I picked another career path that isn't quite as suitable for women. (But don't worry, according to popular belief sexism doesn't actually exist anymore.)

The last couple of days we have been studying the peace process in Angola. We read a book by Ambassador Paul Hare on the Lusaka peace agreement and then he came and spoke to us. I was also one of two students to eat at the presidential dinner with the Ambassador and important figures of the university. (Best meal I've had in a while- how could I pass that up :0)

Last night in class we discussed what we had learned and raised questions here and there. A question was asked about how a person gains the status and authority that the Ambassador had as an international mediator. Our professor proposed the Ambassador used everything he could for leverage- his gray hair, his American citizenship, etc. I cringed when he said this, and come to find out many of the other girls in class did as well, for there was an implication in this statement. How much more does gender give status than does gray hair?

Interestingly enough, when this question was raised in class, it was mostly the men that responded. Perhaps that was what made me most angry. The sad reality is that because of my gender I may always have to work harder to prove I belong in the international peace keeping field. And yet the men were discussing it from the perspective of the dominant culture like they were a) in control of it and b) that it somehow affected them. But at the end of the day they can walk away from that discussion and I will still be living it.

A classmate brought a funny image to our minds: a female mediator meeting with African rebel leaders in the bush. "The rebel leader would probably think she was in love with him." We all laughed. I laughed.

Why am I laughing??

when words strike your fancy

2008-10-06T17:46:00.000-07:00

color fades.
the sun dips and sky darkens
your eyes strain and the shades blur.
then greens will turn gray as
colors fade into ambiguous silhouette.

"what we must fight is fear and silence..."

2008-10-03T13:34:00.000-07:00

Our profs are pushing us away from the status quo. I have been very challenged this week!

Some questions to ponder and respond to...

[Int'l Law and Conflict Transformation]
How could our legal/judicial system could be modified in order to shift from the mindset of controlling conflict to transforming conflict? How could we shift the focus from power and rights to equality and responsibility for one another?

[What good are the laws where Money is king,
where the poor are always wrong,
and even the mockers who scoff at the times
will sell the truth for a song?
The courts are an auction where justice is sold;
the judge who presides bangs a gavel of gold.
-song from time of Nero]

[Peace and Conflict Seminar] What is the difference between a terrorist and a revolutionary, if any? Does the difference perhaps lie in who manages to affect change and tip the power scales (a terrorist is an attempted revolutionary who has failed)? Or is it who you talk to?

[Int'l Health and Human Rights] There seems to be three genders regarding global health in the developing world: male, prostitute and mother. Furthermore, because of the way female bodies provide for society, pregnancy to populate and sex to promote GDP, said bodies are regarded as state property and health care is provided for women on the basis of sustaining commodities. Without imposing western values, is there a way to promote the health and self-actualization of women based on their humanity?

things change. we learn.

2008-09-22T18:55:00.000-07:00

I love that there is something to be learned from EVERYTHING. (And I love that I have the capacity to think that way.)

I learned how to sleep with the light on, and then learned to sleep with it off again (we kept it on for the past week to keep the bugs away...) I learned how to make management listen to me or to find someone that will make them listen.

I learned that every person in my graduate program is FASCINATING. I wish you could meet each and every one of them. They are like characters out of fabulous novels. These are a few of them.

I learned that I can be comfortable in one place while still dreaming of another... my wanderlust is already creeping in.

I learned that we never know the whole story. My grandfather passed away; who knew that through his obituary I could learn so much. What a generous, thoughtful man he was.

"hold these times and kiss them, for soon it will be very different." -anon

Breakable Girls and Boys

2008-09-16T06:52:00.000-07:00

Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts?
Just a cage of rib bones and other various parts.
So its fairly simple to cut right through the mess
and to stop the muscle that makes us confess.

we are so fragile our cracking bones make noise
we are just breakable girls and boys

-Ingrid Michaelson

I can't believe another week of school is starting like this. Still fairly unsettled, considering another move (I'm starting to get a reputation :0) because I cant seem to sleep here (which does not bode well for the whole studying part of my existence.

My roommate Eunice and I have not signed a lease yet and are not intending to sign. We don't want to leave our third roommate, Yoana, who has already signed the lease. Eunice and I have been looking into the legality of breaking the lease for Yoana due to the failure on the part of management to take care of the cockroach problem.

From this point on in my life I will have more respect for the kinds of things people might deal with at home that are unknown to others. Its amazing (and RIDICULOUS) how quickly something like a pest problem can affect someone in all areas of life.

You might be AMAZED (or not) at how many people have no idea what our rights are as tenants. We called townships and state reps and county and district magistrates, all of whom grew silent upon hearing our questions. How are we supposed to act on our rights if no one knows what they are? I'm tempted to just make them up and challenge someone to prove me wrong.
oh life lessons.

Arcadia

2008-09-07T14:14:00.001-07:00

"Arcadia was a picturesque region of ancient Greece, a country associated with the birthplace of modern thought and learning where philosophers pursued independent thought and inquiry." -Arcadia University

They put wonderful importance on building peace between communities. The school lowers the flag each time it feels there has been a breach of peace within our own community or the communities surrounding. At orientation we were told that our grad program specifically, while very nontraditional, is the poster child and premier program of Arcadia. This is because it embodies fully the aims of the university- to be peace builders and lose our individual ignorance by being students of the international community.

Great news, huh? I like it.

Susan and Chelsea and my new apartment!

2008-09-04T07:48:00.000-07:00

Tuesday morning I picked up Susan and Chelsea and their 400 lbs of belongings (not exaggerating) at the airport. They decided they just had to see me one last time before moving to Uganda. We didn't have a lot of time but I am so happy they came!

This is Love Park in center city. my new favorite.

These guys recreated some historical march from Virginia that took them FOUR months to walk. And they wore THOSE costumes the whole time. that is why we were standing so far away from them. (picture taken just before we plugged our noses.)

For some reason Philly has been experiencing record breaking heat. Hence the fountain wading.

My new apartment building: The Rosemore Gardens. The complex is made up out of about 8 horseshoe shaped buildings. All of the doors from the outside have brand new fob entry systems so it feels really safe.

This has been a super chaotic last few days so the inside of our apartment is just a mess of boxes and suitcases. Hopefully this weekend we will have some time to make it feel more like home. Perhaps I'll even buy a bed.

exploring Philly with new friends

2008-08-30T13:07:00.001-07:00

know what this is?

These characters are Eric and Eunice. (Eunice is my future roommate). We walked across Philadelphia TWICE yesterday.

This is one of Ben Franklin's privy pits.

Suburban Station where I catch the train near Ryan's house.

the peace house at Mt. Airy

2008-08-30T12:45:00.000-07:00

the servant (and Yoda's?) staircase.

This is the funky old house I moved into in Philly affectionately called the peace house. 3 stories and 6 bedrooms of eclectic stuff. And did I mention its a duplex?? Huge places in this neighborhood and lots of lawn and trees. Too bad it turns out there are no students living here anymore. It could have been so cool! Ill be moving into an apartment that is closer to school next weekend with a girl from my grad program. So it goes.

my room for the first week of school...

2008-08-30T12:38:00.000-07:00