NYT and AIDS

Here's an article in the Times abou the coming AIDS crisis in Uganda and the rest of Africa. It's something I've alluded to a few times here in the blog...

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/10/world/africa/10aids.html?hp

Istanbul, sans Waragi (Part 2)

I soon realized I was going further into terminal A and took a hard left through an open door to find another airport employee. I then asked how to get to terminal F. He looked at me and said, "Bojour". I said, "Hi. I'm in a hurry. I need to get to F48." He stared, blankly and said, "Bonjour, sir." "Yes, yes, bonjour. Can you help me?" "Sir, how did you get here?" I replied, "I walked from A38, through a door and found you. I need to get to F48. Do you know where that is?" With a concerned/quizzical look, he responded, "Sir, may I see your passport?" Oh god. At that point, I knew I had done something very wrong. It was now 9:21am.

He immediately got on the radio and asked for his supervisor. "Sir, please wait 'ere. My superviserre iss on 'er way. She weel be able to help." Eventually, the woman arrived, I showed them the door that was ajar and asked them if they could help me get to F48. They were shocked that the door was open. If the alert level had been any higher, I may not have left Paris. When they realized that I was not a threat, acted alone and just wanted to get on my way, they took my name down and let me go. At this point, I ran back to the bus stand and decided it would be faster to grab the next bus. I got on and anxiously headed to terminal F. It was now 9:33am.

The bus seemed to take forever, but got me to F at 9:39am. I ran up towards gate 48 and tried to get in line for the next security check. "Your boarding pass and passport, please, sir." Oh, god. I vaguely remembered the woman at the Addis airport saying that she could NOT check me in all the way through to my final destination. And since I didn't have any money to pay for internet at the airport, I couldn't do it myself. I hadn't even checked in to the flight! It was now 9:44am.
I ran to the Air France desk across the hall to explain the situation. "I'm sorry, sir. Check-in for this flight is closed." I looked at her. Looked back at the ground. "Please, m'am, I don't have any checked baggage. My flight from Ethiopia was over two hours late. I just arrived. Is there anything you can do to get me on this flight?" She seemed to sense my desperation (didn't take much to notice it) and headed behind the closed door to advocate for me. She returned with a phone number and made the call. Success! I had a boarding pass. It was now 9:52am.
I ran back to the line, got out my laptop and took off my shoes to get through as quickly as I could. "Anyone have liquids? More than 3 oz? " Crap. Waragiiiiiii!!
I had forgotten that I bought some Uganda gin (called Uganda Waragi) at the duty free store in Kampala and carried it with me through Ethiopia. I had wanted to share it with Russ and Charlie in Istanbul, not expecting to go through another level of security on my layover. I hadn't had a problem carrying the liquid on my flight from Addis. Apparently, the French take their security a little more seriously. DAMN IT.
So I left the Waragi at the desk, waved goodbye, shed a small tear and got in line. I made it through security, but not without losing my sunscreen and skin moisturizing lotion as well. DAMN THE FRENCH. First the Waragi and now the sunscreen AND moisturizer?!? It was now 9:55am.
I got my shoes back and SPRINTED to the gate. F48. F48. Where is it? THERE! No one was in line. Crap. 9:57am.
Sweaty and exhausted, I arrived at the gate, the last person to board the plane. Seat 29A. The last row, against the window. I could finally breathe. I was going to Istanbul. Sans Waragi, sunscreen, moisturizer and all my warm feelings toward the French.
Waragiiii!!!  Coppertone!!!

Istanbul, sans Waragi (Part 1)

I made it to Istanbul, but not without a series of twists and turns (and sprints).

My flight out of Addis was set for 11:30pm on May 3, about 8 hours after the rest of the team was heading back to the US. I decided to go to the airport with them to relax, read and write a few emails. Well, I soon realized that I didn't have any birr (money) and the internet cafe didn't take a credit card. Nor did the regular cafe. Or the restaurants. Sweet. After going through customs at 5:30pm, I found a duty free shop that took Visa, so I got a bag of M&Ms to last until dinner on the flight. So after breakfast at 9am, the only thing I had was a bag of M&Ms and water.

I finished my book and headed to the gate at 9pm to check in and get ready for the flight. Or so I thought. The flight was now delayed 2.5 hours until 2am. My first thought was, "crap, I can't eat until 2am." My second thought was, "crap, my layover in Paris is only three hours. It better not be later than 2am."

During that the 2.5 hr delay, a Turkish Airlines flight arrived, unloaded its passengers, picked up new passengers and departed for Istanbul. Damn it.

We were served dinner at 3:30am (finally), but I accidentally ordered a lasagne, which was awful. So I ate half. The rest of the flight was fine, but it seemed to take forever. I just kept thinking about the quick transition I was going to have to make in Paris.

We arrived in Paris at 9am. My flight to Istanbul was set for 9:55am...so I needed to hurry. I found an airport employee and told her of my situation. She got me to the front of the line, so I could find my next gate. I got to the main part of the terminal and learned that my next flight was on the EXACT opposite side of the airport. F. 48. That's terminal F, gate 48. I was at A38. It was now 9:12am. I hadn't yet realized that this was just the start of my problems.

After getting to the main section of the terminal, I looked around for transportation to the new gate. The only option was a bus that comes every 20 minutes and it had JUST left. WHY IS MY ONLY OPTION A BUS?!? WHO DESIGNED THIS AIRPORT?!? So my choices were: a) wait 20 min for the next bus or b) run. I opted for B.

I asked for directions, half-listened and took off. In the wrong direction.
It was now 9:16am.

Out of Africa

Ack! It’s over!?!

The group is leaving Africa today, May 3, bound for the US. I’ll be stopping over in Turkey for the next eight days, returning to the US on May 13. For those unaware, I’m meeting up with two of my college roommates, Charlie and Russ, for a short adventure in Istanbul and Izmir, Turkey.

I’ll have more thoughts on the trip later, so check back if you’re interested. For now, I’ve got another country to explore and very little time to reflect on all the things we’ve seen and done here in East Africa. 

Last Night

The group spent our last night reminiscing and recounting inside jokes, sweeping generalizations about each other and things we’ll take away from the trip. It was great.

A few lighthearted examples include: Tim has now brainwashed Kristi and Amelia into using “them” instead of “those” (e.g. them projects aren’t on the schedule); Steve has put some serious thought into the most efficient strategy for bucket baths; Amelia is constantly surprised by the extent of my pop music and popular culture knowledge; and Alex routinely refers to a normal pair of trousers as “long-sleeved pants”.

We also thought it was odd that all five of us were up late chatting and soaking up our last night, while the Swedish team had gone to bed two hours earlier. I’m pretty sure we’re the best GSE team ever, but I also know the Swedes were lame…

This experience is obviously totally different from a study abroad or even a personal traveling experience on many different levels, but one of the most exciting differences for me is the fact that we all live in the same city. Most of my traveling experiences have either been with complete strangers (Australia) or close friends who live in other cities. I now have several new friends in Minneapolis!

It’ll be fun to see how we relate to each other and keep in touch when our lives return to their normal pace. 

District Conference

The Rotary International District 9200 Conference took place over three grueling days from April 29 – May 1. Generally speaking, I’m not a huge fan of large conferences. My jobs haven’t required much conference participation over the last five years, but each one isn’t terribly different from the next.

There were a number of important Rotarians at the conference, several of which gave speeches or lead discussion groups based on their position and vocation. The GSE team was not expected to be present for many of the speeches (phew), so we used the time to meet other Rotarians, get to know our Swedish comrades and reflect on our time in Uganda. And sit by the pool.

Both GSE teams presented information about our lives at home and experiences in Africa during the morning session of the last day. We had a large turnout (~250-300 people), which was a nice surprise. We were each approached by several Rotarians looking to make contacts in the US or simply looking for more information about what we do.

There were evening events each night, which was a good opportunity to relax, chat with anyone who was interested and enjoy different aspects of Ethiopia. One night was a simple mixer with a live musician, appetizers and lots of conversation; the second night was a meal at an Ethiopian restaurant, complete with a local cultural performance group (who were fantastic); and the third night was a banquet dinner at the Hilton.

Overall, I think it was a positive experience. We met several Rotarians looking for business cards who were sincerely interested in our work, which was great. We also got to relax at a nice hotel and make some new Swedish friends. As expected, there was certainly a noticeable amount of chest-thumping, glad-handing and general Rotary self-praise. Rotary does some wonderful projects around the world, no doubt, but there is still a prevalent old-boys-club vibe to many of the speeches and functions. This doesn’t appear to be as big of a deal with the young people of Africa, since their young Rotarians vastly outnumber their American counterparts. But it rubbed me the wrong way.

If we’re asked to give a presentation at the District 5950 Conference next week, it’ll be interesting to compare and contrast… 

Oil at Murch

Russ, my roommate from Davidson, passed along this WSJ article about oil drilling in Murchison Falls National Park.
Nice timing.

Damn the Swedes

We arrived in Ethiopia and were told that we’d be spending most of our time with the GSE team from Sweden. I was pumped to hang out with more people our age, but a few of our group members were a little skeptical of a larger group and the change in dynamics.

But so far the Swedes have been a pleasant surprise. The team is made up of four members (Malin, Justecia, Kajsa and Daniel) and their leader (Larry). All of them are between the ages of about 29-32ish and in varying professions like ourselves.

The only problem is the jealousy. Raging blinding jealousy.

After hearing about their 3-day safari in Tanzania and their additional 1-day safari, seeing about 20 female and male lions around a watering hole (!), snorkeling in Zanzibar, huge parties with hosts, pet tortoises in their host homes and other general awesomeness…we were a little shocked.

None of us are unhappy with our experience. At all. Just to be clear. We’ve had some wonderful cultural experiences and we feel like we’ve seen many different sides of Africa. But it’s hard not to be a little envious of a few of their touristy treks. 

Addis

We’ve made it to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.* The district conference is taking place at the Hilton, which is enormous and beautiful. Hundreds of Rotarians will soon flood the gates to listen to a series of speakers, host group discussions, organize brainstorming sessions and drink a serious amount of beer.

Should be a good time.

We’re staying in a guest house about 15 minutes from the Hilton. It’s a nice change of pace from staying with families. I know we all enjoyed and appreciated the host family experience, but I think we’re looking forward to having our own space again.

* It’s pronounced AH-deese AH-ba-ba. Or just AH-deese.

Out With a Bang

We left Kampala on Tuesday, April 27 on our way to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia for our final week in Africa (!). As we’ve come to expect, Kampala had one last surprise up her sleeve before I departed…

I told my host parents that I’d be sleeping in that morning since we didn’t have to be ready until 11am. No problem. When I woke up at 9, however, my breakfast had already been made and had been sitting on the table. Upon closer examination, it had been sitting on the table for at least 45 minutes. I was thankful to have breakfast made for me, but on this particular day breakfast was two pieces of bread covered in a brownish substance with two pieces of american cheese on top. Turns out the substance was tuna (I thought it was peanut butter). This might have been delicious if the bread wasn’t wet and the cheese cold.

To top it off, the other option was a bowl of grasshoppers. You read that correctly. Earlier in the trip I had expressed a slight interest in trying a grasshopper. Well, I got my wish. There were 40 or so pan-fried grasshoppers in the bowl. Each was about an inch and a half long, appeared to be a translucent, jaundiced yellow and had their legs removed (but not their eyes).

Yum.

They actually tasted just fine, but it was the combination of a cold “tuna melt” and a bowl of insects that made my stomach crawl a bit.

On to Ethiopia!

Malaria

Alex officially contracted malaria on the second to last day in Kampala, through no fault of his own. His host in Kampala was extremely lax about getting him a mosquito net. Like, he didn’t have one the entire time he was in Kampala. The entire time! He asked several times and apparently the host would brush it off until the next day. He took his anti-malarial meds as prescribed, but there’s only so much you can do if you’re getting bitten every single evening. He hid his frustration well. The rest of us may not have been so reserved.

He had the blood test to confirm and then received the drug cocktail necessary to wipe it out. He’s feeling much better now.

It was slightly ironic because on our road trip up to Murchison Falls Nat’l Park he had crafted a version of the song “Love Shack” except Ugandized the lyrics with references to traffic jams, Uganda gin (Waragi) and contracting malaria. Little did he know that at the time he had already contracted malaria…

Paraa - Day 2

Day 2 was designed to start with an early morning wake up at 6am so that we could hit the game park as early as possible. Instead, Amelia and I woke up late, ate breakfast late and then we struggled to check out (because they have a dial-up modem for credit cards). So we didn't get on the road until 7:25am.
Didn't matter. Safaris are awesome.
As you can see, the highlight of the drive was probably the female lion. We basically gave it a pat on the head. Our driver drove towards the animal and didn't stop until we were about 15 ft away. The side windows were wide open and we were standing up through the open top. I had visions of that terrible horror movie staring Bridget Moynahan called Prey where several people are mauled by lions.
Our guide was strangely casual about the entire event. That seems to be the norm for people who work around animals all the time. You develop a false sense of comfort and then...BAM...something eats you. Hopefully that doesn't happen to our guide.
The rest of the drive included several dozen springbok, Uganda Kob, Jackson Hartebeest and other horned ungulates; a couple families of giraffes; an elephant; lots of hippos; hornbills; and a lion. But for me the safari wasn't about seeing specific animals, it was about seeing wild animals. So I was completely satisfied with our experience. Murchison Falls Nat'l Park is the largest national park in the country, so I was excited just to be driving around standing through the top of a land rover.
One interesting thing to note: oil has been found underneath the park. In the US, this would be a huge deal. In Alaska, for example, people get stirred up when there's talk of drilling in ANWR. Here, where they need as much money as possible, drilling in a national park isn't an issue. We saw newly created roads that were wider than normal so the drilling and hauling equipment could be moved with ease. I've heard stories about the wildlife being affected already...but they aren't given much weight here. Priorities are a little different in a third world country.
I asked Frank (host dad) about people's views of national parks and vacations within Uganda. He basically said that the national parks are almost exclusively tourist attractions. Unless they're in the transportation or tourism business, most Ugandans have never visited a national park. He also said that those with money often prefer to go to Europe or America instead of traveling to Queen Elizabeth or Murchison Falls Nat'l Park. But because most residents of Uganda live near or below the poverty line, they certainly don't have much money to travel. The economy is growing at a very steady rate here (despite the worldwide recession), which bodes well for the future of Ugandans. Maybe someday more will have a chance to explore their natural attractions.

Do hippos ever swim in the pool?

Alex posed this question to the swim-up bartender during our pool stay on Saturday evening. I laughed when he asked, but the guy said it's happened before. WHAT. A hippo has walked up the hill, slipped past the wooden posts designed to keep them out, gone unnoticed by the guests and employees and gotten INTO the pool?!? Dang.

Well, I believe him....because I witnessed it.

Our room was situated on the ground floor, directly facing the pool. We had a view of the pool and the Nile behind it. Very nice. Before we headed up for dinner, I sat on the patio staring right at the pool preparing to call Rachel to congratulate her on completing her first half-marathon. It was about 8pm, so it was completely dark except for the pool lights (underwater) and the room lights along the edge of the lodge.

So I dialed Rachel's number and sat back in the chair. I noticed a large, dark object blocking the dim lights from the pool. Hm. Has that been there the entire time? I don't remember a statue of an elephant near the pool...? I don't remember a huge chair there...?

Then the object started to move. Waaaaaaiiiiitttttt a minute. What is THAT?!?!?!

Meanwhile, Rachel was still on the line trying to figure out why I'm whispering, "I think there's a giant hippo 20 ft from me right now. Holy crap."

Let me repeat that: a giant hippo was standing with its back to me, drinking from the pool about 20 ft in front of my face.

When it started to move, I picked up my laptop and followed it, obviously keeping my distance. (I didn't have time to grab my camera, but I really wish I had.) I know Rachel couldn't hear me due to the shoddy skype connection, but I was frantically whispering, "there's a giant hippo here and I'm following it. This is crazy. This is crazy."

I walked about 40 yds with the hippo, but then he slipped off into the night. I never heard it make a sound. Their surprisingly agile. I walked back to the patio, attempted to call Rachel about 13 more times unsuccessfully and wandered up for dinner.

That was crazy.

Paraa - Day 1

Safariiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!
We put in a lot of leg work to make this trip to Murchison Falls Nat'l Park happen and it was worth it. When it became clear that we weren't going to get a ton of help from Rotary with the planning, Steve and I took over to ensure that it happened. Alex, Amelia, Steve and I (Kristi and Tim opted out) arranged to leave EARLY Saturday morning hoping to make it to the park before the 12 o'clock ferry so we could have lunch and then leisurely find our afternoon boat cruise at 2pm. Given our experiences thus far, we should've realized the chances of that happening were very small. And we would've been right.
We didn't leave Kampala until 7:30am because our driver arrived with a vehicle containing no fuel. We figured the arrangement would be arrive with a full tank, leave it with a full tank. Nope. So we were keenly aware of how much gas it took to get there so that we would've overpay for gas on the way back. We arrived at the ferry at 1pm and waited for our boat cruise to take off at 2pm.*

* The ferry takes you across the Nile (south side to north side), which is where our lodge was located. It leaves every hour, on the hour, except at 1pm due to lunch breaks. So obviously we would arrive exactly at 1pm. Instead of eating lunch at the lodge and walking back for the cruise, the four of us shared three protein bars and some water. Ahhh, traveling.

Things turned around after we arrived. The boat cruise was fantastic. As you can see from the pictures, we saw a billion hippos, several enormous crocodiles, cape buffalo, water bucks, birds, warthogs, elephants and Murchison falls. The weather was cool and partly sunny, which made the trip comfortable and extremely successful.
The cruise was over around 5pm, so we found our way up to the lodge to unpack and relax. It was absolutely ideal. We sat in the pool for over an hour, had a couple beers at the swim-up bar, met a few other groups of people and tried to soak up the autonomy as much as possible. After dinner there was a small group of musicians and dancers who were performing near a bonfire next to the pool. We were pulled into the dance circle and had a good time until everything disbanded. We then hung out at the bar for a while before heading to bed. 
Pool...Hot shower...National Park...Guiness...Music...Yessssssssss....


The safari (or game drive) was the next morning. Read part two for details!

Mildmay

We visited the world-renowned Mildmay clinic late last week and I haven't had a chance to mention it. It was very impressive. It's a Christian hospital and clinic specially designed to handle HIV-AIDS cases. It was opened back before 1900 by the Brits, but was closed in 1982 due to government cutbacks. It was reopened in 1985 after a campaign led by a Rotarian named Dr. Pinto. I've met his son Martin Pinto (also a medical doctor), but the late Dr. Pinto passed away two years ago in a horrific car accident.
The campus was beautiful and very impressive. They have some of the most advanced lab equipment I've seen in Africa, lots of space for adult patients and two or three separate buildings for the hundreds of pediatric patients they treat. There are also several lecture halls for discussions and classes about managing the condition and educating the friends, families and patients.
It's largely funded by the British Government and the CDC, but their funding is running out after 2012, so they are working on fundraising and building more sustainable clinics outside of the main campus.
One of the interesting things we learned was that the advancement of treatment options for HIV/AIDS has made the disease manageable. People can live relatively normal lives as long as they adhere to the treatment protocol. While this is no doubt a fantastic achievement in medicine and has improved or saved the lives of millions of people, it has also allowed them to fall back into old habits.
Prior to the introduction of ARVs, Africans were terrified of HIV, as they should've been. We were told that people were more faithful to their significant others, used protection and were much more conscious of their actions. Now that we have treatment options, medical professionals are seeing a sustained number of cases (instead of a drop off). They believe that people are going back to their old habits of sexual promiscuity and unprotected sex. If true, it's troubling and extremely unfortunate. I have no data to back any of this up, but we sat down with multiple representatives from Mildmay and that seemed to be the consensus.
Steve made an interesting parallel with the gas "crisis" that takes place every summer in the US. Each summer (or so it seems), gas prices jump up significantly higher than other times of the year. As a result, Americans drive less or are less likely to purchase large SUVs. When prices drop back down in the fall, everyone goes right back to their old ways.
Obviously habits regarding fuel usage and protection against a potentially lethal sexually transmitted infection are on different parts of the spectrum, but I think it sheds a little light on human nature and inertia.

K'naan

I feel like I've heard K'naan's voice nearly as frequently as the voices of my team members.

For those of you who don't know K'naan, he's a hip hop artist from Somalia who's living and performing in the US. He's become fairly popular within the last year or so when he released his second album (that I know of). Well, he's also taken off here in Uganda b/c one of his songs was chosen to be the theme song for the 2010 World Cup. The song is called "Wavin' Flag". And it's played every 10 minutes.

It's funny how an African musician reminds me of home, despite the fact that I'm listening to his music in Africa.

Music

I'm getting some great African music (both traditional and popular), so if anyone would like any of it, let me know. For those on my dropbox list, no worries, I'll post some of it when I get home. If dropbox is an unfamiliar term to you, let me know and I can send some directly.

Stick a pork in me

Good lord.
The last two days have consisted of eating food...and a few events in between. Last night we went out to dinner at a local pub near my host family's house. It was fantastic. Tons of open outdoor space with a view of the stars and the moon; a sweet playlist which included songs by Backstreet Boys, West Life, Mariah Carey, Shaggy and Ace of Base; and an unbelievable amount of pork.
Nigel ordered 6 pork kabobs for us to share. The pork is cooked over an open grill with a few added spices. There are no bbq sauces or extra flavoring added. True pork. They stick about 8 bite-sized pieces on each kabob, so 6 of them were plenty...but Nigel wasn't satisfied.
In addition to our kabobs, he ordered 4 ribs. I supported the decision, because I liked the idea of pork ribs under the stars. Well, these ribs must've been taken from a mutant warthog because they were the biggest ribs I'd ever seen. And actually, each rib was two ribs stuck together by huge chunks of meat. So I basically consumed an entire hog. Delicious.
Tonight we went to another great place called the Lawns. There was a live jazz band which played for 2.5 hours straight. No break! They were excellent. Anyway, this restaurant prides itself on the game meat it serves. So we got a sampler of impala, ostrich and springbok. They were doused in spices, so it was hard to tell if the unique meats were actually good. All I know is that they tasted great. No complaints from me. Then I ordered a wrap and a salad. Plus about four beers. Ugh.
Sprinkled in these two days were two enormous lunches and huge breakfasts. I wish Africans worked out. I need to go for a run...

Classic

Classic day in Uganda, today.
We got up early so that my host's mother could visit her doctor.* Her appt was at 8am, so we left at 7:45am. We arrived at the clinic at 8:30am. No one seemed concerned. We dropped off grammy and headed to the office. A few seconds later, Nigel got a call from his mom saying the clinic was actually closed until 3pm. Oops. (Turns out calling ahead is unheard of here.)

* Nigel's mother is in town from Nebbi, the village where Nigel grew up. She's a very nice woman. Unfortunately the gender roles seem to be inhibiting my ability to get to know her. 

Nigel had pulled over to take the call, but instead of turning around, he just threw the land rover into R and reversed down the opposite side of the street. Boda bodas were coming right at me with quizzical looks on their faces. One of them mouthed "what is he doing?" and I just shrugged my shoulders and smiled. We reversed for about 200 meters and pulled back into the clinic. I got dropped off and I'm not sure what happened with grams.

Later in the afternoon, Steve and I started planning our weekend safari in Murchison Falls National Park. I decided to call to check on reservations and was given a set of prices and told there were several rooms available. Perfect. I checked back with the group, got our priorities in order and made another call to get a real reservation. Well, in those 25 minutes, all the double rooms had been taken. WHAT! NOOOOOOOO. I was pissed.
I told the group and they were pissed. So we regrouped. Steve decided to make the next call (since I was still in shock) and got a different woman. Well, apparently this woman had access to the real list of rooms, because Steve was able to book 3 double rooms. Huh?
So we got the reservation on the phone, but were told we needed to find the reservation center to confirm everything. We were feeling proactive, so we asked if anyone in the coffee shop knew where it was. A gentleman drew us a small map on a napkin and said "it's 20 meters after Jinja road", so we took off.* We were both mighty skeptical that we'd find it, but hey, it was an adventure nightmare.

* My last words to Amelia were "we have no chance".

Well, unsurprisingly, were were epically unsuccessful. We quickly realized that there are no street signs on the roads of Kampala (as well as traffic signs). We followed the map to a T, but ended up in a gas station that didn't look promising. We asked a few locals for their thoughts. One told us to avoid taxis. One just kept walking. Cool. Then we went off in another direction. Then another. Then we saw 6th street (we were looking for 5th) and got a second wind. No 5th. Anywhere. Then we asked a boda boda driver where to go. He pointed us in the right direction. Then we found out that instead of saying "20 meters" our original map guy said "20 minutes". It was a 20 minute walk from a road near our starting point. Well, we had run out of time and needed to head back to meet our hosts. So we hopped on a boda boda and hung our heads in shame. Maybe tomorrow.
It just seemed like things didn't really work out the way they were supposed to for most of the day. Something we've gotten used to here in Uganda.

Goat Liver

So our power went out for most of the night yesterday, a rarity for my hosts. So we ate in the dark. I asked what we were eating and was told goat's liver. I think that's the only way to eat goat's liver.
I'll leave it at that.

King of Tooro

Here's a link to some Uganda-related news. I've spoken with a few young people from the Tooro region in western Uganda and they were unanimously excited about the new king turning 18. Pretty big deal over there.

CNN

Leaving Gulu

As our tail lights flickered down the bumpy road to Kampala, Gulu reached out from the grave to give us one more fit. A flat tire. 

We were about 90 minutes outside of Gulu when I heard a POP...WHOOOOOOSH. Damn it. I was sitting in the back right corner of the van, directly above the tire. I knew it immediately. Our group remained remarkably calm. Alex, Steve and Amelia wandered over to a nearby church service going on outside; Kristi sat down near some children and interacted using sounds she can make with her hands; and I stayed in the shade, pretending to watch how to change a tire. 

I was paying attention to the conversation around the tire, but obviously couldn't understand what our driver and some locals (who walked over to help) were talking about. Despite the barrier, I could clearly tell that it wasn't positive. Turned out that our spare was also flat. Sweet. So we flagged down a boda boda (motorbike) and our driver carried the spare on his lap to the nearest town with an air pump. 

He returned about 40 minutes later with a freshly filled tire and we were set to go. No harm done, but an hour delay. Since we were supposed to leave at noon and didn't actually leave until 2:30 (remember, it's Gulu), we are now a comfortable 3 hours behind schedule. 

My host mom, Berna, didn't get the message. So she drove into town at 5:15pm, around our original expected arrival. She was 4 hours early. She went back home about 6:30pm and returned about 7:45pm, still over an hour early. I apologized profusely and told her that we were assured our hosts had been reached, but Gulu's wrath was felt very clearly down in Kampala. 

The trip wasn't a total loss. As I mentioned, Alex, Amelia and Steve enjoyed the church service; Kristi brought out her guitar and started playing for a small audience; we dodged another bullet when Frederick decided NOT to ride with us and take a bus instead (saving us from cramming 9 people in 8 seats); and we got to see a few more baboons on the way back. 

Gulu struck again, but it was a minor scrape. You can't escape Africa without at least one blown tire, right? I'm pretty sure that's a proverb. 

I'll try to post a recap and thoughtful summary of our time in Gulu. It was a wonderfully unique cultural experience, but certainly frustrating throughout. 

Is white a color?

Here's a link to one of Alex's posts. I thought it was funny. And very true.

http://interculturaladventure.blogspot.com/2010/04/is-white-color.html

Pictures

Amelia let me steal some of her photos, so I've added them to the online albums. There should be 3-5ish new pictures at the end of several albums, so check 'em out.
Enjoy!

Uganda Time

One of the themes of our time in Uganda is the lackadaisical nature of the itinerary. At a glance, a laid back itinerary was enticing and comforting... but it's been a bigger issue than we expected. The main organizer for our stay in Kampala is Daudi, a transportation service manager, so his mental clock is always ticking. Despite his regimented approach, we're still constantly behind schedule. Well, he's moving with alacrity compared to Gulu. Here in Gulu, we are rarely within 2 hours of the schedule.
Our hosts have very good intentions, no doubt. Most are kind and open to our suggestions. But there seems to be a lack of respect for our time. I understand that our hosts are voluntarily taking time to show us their town and their way of life, but there is a systemic lack of organization which has made the trip just as frustrating as it has been stimulating. We've had a host drop out at the last minute (mine!), so we depended on the generosity of another rotarian to take two team members into his home. We've also missed visits to hospitals and project sites due to disorganization.
Now, I shouldn't say that everyone in Gulu Rotary is causing problems. There are wonderful, thoughtful people in this organization. Unfortunately, the members who make the most noise and carry the most weight are also the least considerate (by our standards). It's a small adjustment to make for a unique experience in a small African town...but I just wanted to get it out there.

Dessert

I miss dessert.
Steve ate a chocolate chip Chewy granola bar the other day and I could smell the chocolate from a few seats away. I hadn't realized it until that moment, but I haven't had chocolate or any sweet food the entire time I've been here. I think I've now lost a pound or two since arriving in Africa and it's probably directly related to the amount of sugar I've eaten (which, aside from a few bottles of Coke, is essentially zero). Almost zero chance I'll keep it up when I get back home though, but it's good to know it's possible.

Aba

Amelia and I have been talking about Aba, the little boy from the Good Shepherd Home orphanage, just about every day. Just wanted to link to her synopsis.

http://ameliasadventures.com/wordpress/?p=1578

Candy Canes

This is what happens when you forget to put sunscreen on your legs. (I didn't anticipate sitting in the back of a pick up truck for about two hours.) It's hard to tell, but the right side (looking at the picture) is pure red and the other side is pure white. I was sitting cross legged for a good portion of the trip. 

My legs will be fire burning on the dance floor for a few days, so I’ll be switching to pants.

I've received several snickers and a few outright laughs...

Baker's Fort and Ukuleles

Baker's Fort was a fort used by Arab groups in the 19th century to facilitate the slave trade in East Africa. The name actually comes from the British anti-slavery proponent Samuel Baker who dismantled the Arab group and ended the slave trade in this area. It was an interesting site. The picture below is where the slaves were decapitated and rolled down to the bush, where the animals roamed. Yikes.

Baker's Fort also happens to be the origin of the ukulele. I would assume that this claim is disputed in other parts of the world (Portugal, maybe?), but our guide was very adement about it. He said it was created by families who's loved ones were abducted and stolen for trade. They used the instrument to express their sorrow and despair. Eventually, a few slaves kept their riki rikis (as they are known in Uganda) and took them to Hawaii (unclear how this happened), where they became very popular in the West.
Also, we got to ride in the back of a pickup the entire way. Got some good phots and will post them when I can.

Pabbo

Yesterday we visited Pobba, an Internally Displaced Persons camp about an hour (30km) outside Gulu.* The camp itself was the largest camp for people who were run out of their villages by the LRA (Lords Resistance Army) during the war. At its peak in 1996, there were 60,00-75,000 people living in huts around this camp. Today there is less than 25% of that population still living there, which is a testament to the successful replacement programs used by the Ugandan government, NGOs and other organizations.

* Fun fact: it’s within 30 miles of Sudan!

Unfortunately this was one of the most frustrating days of the trip, aside from the sad and humbling sites at the camp. Our hosts decided to take us to Pobba because it was the largest of the IDP camps. They had good intentions, but unfortunately we were joined by another Rotarian woman who has been living and working in Gulu for the last 3 months. As a result, we had to transport 9 people in a vehicle made for 8. The day before we actually crammed 10 people in the same vehicle for a series of short trips, but this was a 75 min drive crammed into a land cruiser on a rough, bumpy road. We were less than pleased. As much as we tried to go with it, I think it tainted the experience for a few of us.

We’ve got another long car ride to Fort Baker today, which has an interesting history as well. Hopefully we’ll get an extra car if we have any additional, unexpected travelers.

Gulu

Well, we made it to Gulu. It’s a smaller town about 300km north of Kampala, about 50 miles from Sudan. Ack! I think everything’s cool now. No worries.

We will be staying with families of the Gulu Rotary club and this is the first time they’ve ever had a GSE team stay in Gulu. (History books!) After a quick look at their schedule, they’ve crammed a TON of things into our week in Gulu, which is exciting. A few of us are skeptical we’ll be able to get to all of them and still learn something about each place. We might be doing a lot of driving to see a place for 25 minutes only to get back in the car to head to the next place. I’ll stay hopeful.

I’m excited to be here. It’ll be quite different from Kampala, but I’m pretty confident it’ll be a good experience. Whether this good experience will be a positive one or a negative one is still unclear…

Cell Phone Schmetiquette

 The cell phone companies have some kind of strangle hold on Uganda. There are more advertisements for MTN, Zain and Orange than just about every other product combined. MTN and Zain have painted peoples houses yellow and pink, respectively, for additional advertising space. Their houses! Pink! With a huge MTN/Zain logo!
I'm pretty confident that the pervasiveness of the telecom industry has had an effect on the usage of cell phones. I can recount at least five different instances where a customer service representative has answered his/her phone while helping me or a team member. When Steve and I tried to buy an internet modem, the woman answered her phone at least three different times. She left her desk each time! Steve and I just waited for her to finish and come back. When we were at the Entebbe Wildlife Park, our personal tour guide answered his phone for a five minute call while we were talking about hyenas. He was talking to us about hyenas, stopped to answer his phone, talked for five minutes and came back. By that time we had moved on to other animals
Ironically, the one place where most people are good about not answering their cell phone is while they're driving. It requires one's full attention to navigate the insane traffic "guidelines" and general driving conditions that talking on one's phone while driving would surely result in an accident. Ever since I got an iPhone, I've texted or checked email at social events/etc while receiving sour looks from others...but the etiquette here blows that away.
But customs and etiquette rules are cultural (obviously). So you just accept it and move on.

Body image

While we were on our way to the Entebbe Wildlife Park, Amanda said something in the car that was mighty troubling. "Daddy, there are three things wrong with me: my body shape, my face and my hair."
Her dad was a little stunned by this, but he tried to do some damage control by reminding her of what they had talked about before (presumably this issue has arisen in the past). He told her she was beautiful and that she should not worry herself with things like this.
I was caught off guard because Amanda is seven years old. Seven! I have a strong suspicion that the fact that her parents are very wealthy and allow her to watch American TV shows like Hannah Montana may have had an effect. Despite this, I was surprised that the body image issue is already deeply ingrained in her mind. It's sad.As Rachel put it, I think she needs a role model who looks more like her. Miley Cyrus is no role model.
I recently bought her a copy of Matilda by Roald Dahl, so maybe that will get her a little more interested in fiction and less interested in the Disney channel. But probably not.

Attack of the white rhino!

So I haven't had time to mention that I almost touched a rhino. A white rhino, to be precise. We were walking past the rhino habitat when my host dad noticed that the rhinos were directly underneath the viewing area. Sweet.

As you can see from the pictures, the only things keeping us from being impaled were a 4 ft high wall and a couple of bars. The rhino was laying in the mud, but then struggled to his feet like an intoxicated boulder and stumbled over to the bars to scratch his horn. I would've touched his horn if I didn't think it was a bad example to set for Amanda. I mean, she's young, impressionable. I didn't want her running around touching rhino horns her whole life. That's the only reason.

After scratching his horn 36in from my face, he went back to the mud, fell over and snorted a few times. The only unfortunate part of being that close to a rhino is that when they snort, you get sprayed with mud. So Amanda had a nice time pointing out each individual mud speck that was on my newly cleaned shirt. 

Other than our near death experience with the rhino, the wildlife park was mostly depressing. The habitats were small and dirty (especially the otters...iI couldn't even take a picture of it; I felt like the otters would've been embarrassed if I had shown it to anyone). It was nice to be outside, but I'm looking forward to the real national park next weekend.

Also, note the picture of the guide talking on his cell phone. More to come on this later.

Kampala

Just a quick observation.
When I got to Kampala, everything was super green, local and NATURAL. I loved driving around the city and checking out the sites. Women with bananas on their heads, men driving motorbikes, birds flying everywhere...etc.
Now that I've been here for over a week and sat in hours of traffic, all I see/hear/smell are cars, horns and gasoline. It's like the city has completely transformed in a week. If the traffic situation weren't so ridiculously bad, I think that honeymoon period would've lasted significantly longer.
I'm looking forward to heading up to Gulu and out of the city tomorrow.

Tony loves Bryan Adams

I was standing around listening to a local Baganda band play at the bar last night and asked Tony* if karaoke was popular in Uganda. He unleashed his patented yuuuge Tony smile. Yes, yes it is. (Well, I double checked with my host family this morning to confirm and they said it was very popular...15 years ago. So maybe it's just Tony's group of friends. Doesn't matter...I'll still probably do it.)

*Tony is a young Rotary member (Rotaract) who has volunteered his time to show us around the city from time to time. Three things about Tony:
1) He loves Liverpool soccer 
2) He loves Lil' Wayne and Puff Daddy
3) He's publishing his own magazine

Anyway, after a couple more beers, I asked Tony about his standard karaoke song. He looks at the ground, clears his throat and looks like he's about to start singing. I'm excited about the possibilites, so I start to concentrate a little harder. Then he just starts singing:

To really......loveawoman
You gotta know her deep insiiiiide


Bryan Adams! No way. So naturally I joined him and started singing:

When you fiiiind yourself lying helpless.......in her arms

You know you reallllllly, love a wooooooman

We stop, laugh. I tell him good choice. He says, "You know Peter, you sing exactly like Bryan Adams! You do!" So I pulled a George Costanza and walked out on a high note. "Alright! That's it for me. Goodnighteverybody."

The Legend of the Alur

My host parents are descendants of the Alur tribe of northern Uganda. I asked if their tribe had a legend or myth behind its inception and here's what he told me...

King Opobo fathered three sons before he died, Tiful, Nyapiri and Labongo. Nyapiri borrowed Lapongo's spear so that he could take down an elephant. To Nyapiri's surprise, the elephant barely flinched when the spear hit him and he ran away with it stuck in his hindquarters. When news reached Lapongo that his brother had lost his spear, he was furious and demanded that he find it. He wanted no substitute. Nyapiri went back to the bush to track the elephant and stumbled upon a bountiful land. Instead of finding the elephant, he found an old woman who took him to a place where many spears were sold. Nyapiri recognized Lapongo's spear and paid the woman handsomely for her help. In return, the woman also gave Nyapiri a special bead. 
When Nyapiri returned home, everyone was amazed by his story about the spear and the bead. The bead was particularly popular, so he handed it around for everyone to see and touch. In the process, Lapongo's son accidentally swallowed the bead. Nyapiri was furious with Lapnogo and demanded he get his bead back immediately. Lapnogo tried to convince him to wait until nature took its course and the bead would be returned. Nyapiri had no patience and wanted revenge. Left with no alternative, Nyapiri killed his brother's child to retrieve the bead. This act horrified and outraged the other brothers so much that they all split up to form their own tribes.


Amanda then chimed in that they are being taught the myth behind each of the tribes that make up their particular classroom. I thought that was cool. She then asked if we had anything similar in the US, so I told her about the Native American tribes, the neighborhoods surrounding New York, Boston and other eastern cities...but nothing really comes close. 
Then today at a miniature wildlife park, our tour guide mentioned that he spoke Alur and grew up in a nearby district from my host parents. They lit up like he was a long lost brother! The intra-tribal ties are very strong. It's hard to relate to that connection. 

The Good Sheperd Home

I don't have time for a full post, but I wanted to inform you that I added about 30 pictures to the Picasa site (right side of the blog) from an orphanage we visited today (Thursday).

The situation is obviously heartbreaking, but the kids embraced us muzungus (white people) and hammed it up for the camera. So I got a few good ones. I'll post links to pictures taken by other team members as soon as I find out where they are located...

Cute bombs dropping all over the place. Beware.

Touché, Rooster

Roosters may be smarter than I have given them credit for. I have had very few encounters with them in my life, so I haven’t given it much thought. I figured they were small-brained, boisterous animals that loved waking up early. Not anymore.

I woke up two nights ago to a startling call from a nearby rooster; nothing out of the ordinary for Africa. What seemed strange, however, was the proximity of the sound. I woke up expecting to find the rooster at the foot of my bed. (Actually, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had found a way inside my mosquito net.) I thought this was a 4 ft tall mutant rooster who was walking down the main street waking up the neighborhood at 4:25am. I pictured Foghorn Leghorn dancing down the street screaming at everything he sees. Anyway, every 3 minutes I would turn over, change the placement of my ear buds, turn up the volume and hope to fall asleep. No dice. So I got up around 5:30am.

I ate breakfast and kinda forgot about the incident…until I walked outside. I looked out into the back yard area and saw the culprit sitting directly underneath my window. This little biological alarm clock was no more than 9 ft away from my face. I swear the little guy looked me in the eye (while I was taking his picture), turned around, and sauntered off, satisfied that he had done his job. Do roosters have a sense of humor?

I had to overexpose the shot to see the rooster in the corner. Also note the knowing stare...

So before I went to bed last night, I looked for a long branch or broom that I could stick in his eye when he came around the next morning. The only thing I could find was a closet hanger. Good enough.

So, sure enough, at 4:15am this morning he started his little schtick. I got up, opened the window, and waved the hanger in his general direction like a mad woman. He cocked his eye, strutted around for a second and walked off into the night. I was satisfied. Well, all he did was walk about 6 ft to the left where I could no longer see him from the window and just kept on doing his rooster thing. 

Rooster - 2  

Me - 0 

Touché, rooster...but I'll be back for round 3.

Host Family

After spending the Easter holiday with family in northern Uganda, Nigel and his family met me at the Rotary club of Kalolo last night. Nigel is an attorney who works for the Ugandan government. He went to law school here in Uganda, but also studied at the London School of Economics. Nigel is a very nice, very successful man. He loves pop music (we listened to Michel Jackson and the local pop radio station on the way home), “soccer, beer and his family”. He and I watched the Arsenal v Barcelona game two nights ago, which was great. He’s a huge Arsenal fan, so naturally I was rooting for Barcelona (to make it interesting). Barcelona crushed. Nigel was sad.

The rest of the family includes Ralph, a 16-yr old sophomore at a nearby boarding school (not sure if I’ll meet him), a 7-yr old daughter named Amanda and a wife named Berna (Bernita). So far I’ve been able to ascertain that Amanda loves Hannah Montana, the Jonas Brothers, The Suite Life (of Zach and Cody), singing Michael Jackson (especially Black and White) and wearing my rain jacket. So basically we’re best friends. I feel kinda bad because I don’t have gifts that are appropriate for a 7-yr old girl. I’ll have to pull something together last minute.

I’ve been pummeling Nigel with questions about Uganda. I learned that samosas are extremely popular in Uganda after the Indian government sent a bunch of Indian citizens to East Africa to build a railroad in from the coast in the early/mid 1900s. Indians basically set up shop all along the tracks and began to dominate the small business market. Ever since the Idi Amin regime, race relations between the indigenous Africans and the Indians have been improving…but still leave a lot to be desired. Many of the large businesses in Kampala are still owned or managed by Indian expatriates. You’d think that if the Indian citizens were/are smart enough to take over all the extremely profitable jobs, they would be smart enough to engage the local community and build stable and sustainable relations. Right?

Other interesting facts:

-       Beyonce is WAY too popular

-       Volleyball is the only truly multinational sport in Uganda

-       The stealing of people’s land is fairly prevalent in Kampala; so prevalent in fact that people have to paint “this is not for sale” on the side of their houses (I’ll get a picture of this soon)

-       R. Kelly recently had a concert here; it was sub par (shocking)

-       Local guards carry bows and arrows (working on getting a picture of this too)

-       The largest population of Ugandans in Minnesota are from Jinja

Anyway, the family seems to be relatively reserved, so I think they’re sizing me up. I’m hoping they’ll break out of their shell a little and open up, but I also think they are naturally a calm and quiet bunch. I’ve seen Amanda break out a few dance moves, but that’s about it. I’ll get a new host family when we travel up to Gulu next week, but I’ll be back with Nigel, Berna and Amanda the week after.

Jinja

Our second full day in Uganda was another relaxing one; a fantastic start to the trip. When I first heard that we were visiting Jinja, I immediately thought we'd be visiting an isolated colony of gingers (too many british comedy sketches, I guess?).* So when I found out that it’s believed to be the source of the great Nile River I was slightly disappointed (kidding). The source of the Nile! Sweet. Since I saw the source of the Mississippi river when I was about 10, I had been eagerly awaiting the chance to complete my River Source Bingo Card (cross it off the bucket list!). I’ve included some pictures of the Nile/Lake Victoria. It was very photogenic.

* To be honest, when I first heard the name Jinja, I thought Daudi had said Ninja. They have a town called Ninja?!? Not bad. Then he said it again and I realized that the town was missing out on a huge tourism opportunity. Who wouldn't visit a town named Ninja?

After we all had an eyeful, we headed to a nearby hotel called The Triangle Hotel. It overlooks the Nile with dramatic views across the river and up towards Lake Victoria. Our host Daudi decided that it was a nice setting for a beer. Incidentally, there is a brewing company named Nile Brewing Co, which produces a beer called the Nile Special. SO, we had a Nile while looking at the Nile (cross that off my bucket list too?). I have to say, their marketing campaign could use some work. Their slogan is mighty weak: “Straight for the source.” C’mon, I came up with a better slogan in .5 seconds: “You’re in denial if you’re not drinking Nile.” A-oh!

A vial of Nile near an isle on the Nile.

After THAT, we went to a restaurant called Kingfisher which was delicious. Fresh tilapia caught right in Lake Victoria! And another Nile! It looks a little touristy in the pictures, but I can assure you that we were the only tourists. I asked. Things are looking good, Uganda. Real good.

Let me know if the pictures are NOT working. (Click on the link to the right.)

Asante sana (squash banana)

Kampala, Uganda

We got in to Kampala at about 11:15pm local time last night and met a few of the Rotary representatives. We weren’t exactly sure who the people were (were they host families? local rotary members? volunteers?), but they were very gracious and welcomed us to Uganda.

We then split up into two cars for the drive from Entebbe to Kampala. The cities aren’t more than 25 miles apart, but due to the condition of the roads it took us about an hour. When I say road conditions, I really mean driving conditions because the roads themselves were just fine. But traffic laws seem to be mere suggestions for most drivers in the area. Mopeds and motorbikes are very common, but they are small, slow, often lack lights and even more often are driving on the wrong side of the road. Because it was a Saturday night, there were also tons of people walking along the roads (both sides) within inches of the passing traffic. No one seemed particularly alarmed, so I tried to act as if people weren’t almost dying at every turn. Complicating matters further was the recent string of heavy rainfall in the area, which has disemboweled many of the street lamps.* All in all, it was an entertaining drive :)

* Not sure if it was because of the lack of street lights or if it’s the norm, but drivers here do a sort of ritualistic flickering of their bright lights at night. It wasn’t quite Morse code, but it was something similar. It kinda goes like this: “Hey, buddy, I’m gonna flick my brights so that you turn yours off.” “Hey, I see you flicking your brights, but I’m not turning my off.” “I see that the flicking of my brights has had no effect on your brights, so I’m just gonna leave mine on. Deal with it.” “Oh, now you’re leaving your brights on? Fine, well, here come a few bright light flickers and then I’ll continue to burn your retinas with my brights!” “Dang, those are bright. I need to hit the brakes HARD to make sure I don’t hit that person/motorbike/stray dog crossing the road.” Something like that.

Anyway, we get to meet our host families today. Exciting! We still don’t have a good feel for the itinerary, but that keeps things interesting. I'll add a few photos from the hotel/etc as soon as I get a consistent connection. 

Enjoy!

Africa/Tired

I'm in Africa! And tired! One more flight from Nairobi to Entebbe and then we'll be all set. It is WARM. 

No real news with which to update, so I'll just keep it short.

Nearly there.

Minnesota Mixed CDs

I'm trying to put together some gifts for the families who will be hosting me throughout the trip. I've settled on a variety of items that I'll try to mix and match to suit each family. One of these items is a mixed CD* of Minnesota musicians. Below, you'll find the playlist. I'm sure I'll get some judgy looks/clicks for several of the songs I've chosen, but I'm trying to find a middle ground between recognizable, not offensive (or profane) and "good". 


* I've had discussions about the phrase "mix CD" versus "mixed CD" and I think it's clear that it's mixed CD. You could rearrange it and say that the CD is A mix, no problem...but otherwise, it's mixed. Adjectives versus nouns. I think I'm right on this one. If not, well, tough. It's my blog.


1. Let's Go Crazy - Prince; 2) A Girl Named Hope - Atmosphere; 3) Big Sur - Mason Jennings; 4) The Times They Are A Changin' - Dylan; 5) 5ves - Heiruspecs; 6) Save It For a Rainy Day - Jayhawks; 7) Stuck Between Stations - Hold Steady; 8) Slow Burn - Doomtree; 9) If You See Her, Say Hello - Dylan; 10) The Woman With The Tattooed Hands - Atmosphere; 11) Ballad For My One True Love - Mason Jennings; 12) Heartsprings - Heiruspecs; 13) Runaway Train - Soul Asylum (yes!); 14) Little Red Corvette - Prince; 15) Corrina, Corrina - Dylan; 16) Forest Whitaker - Brother Ali; 17) Alex Chilton - Replacements; 18) Never You Mind - Semisonic (curveball!); 19) Where Does A Stranger Go On Christmas Eve - Happy Apple


Another piece of the gift basket may or may not include a copy of the new Bela Fleck album titled Throw Down Your Heart. Three reasons I'm including this in the package: 1) I like the music; 2) it's really good (won two Grammys)**; 3) our Rotary team met Nicole Smaglick who was involved in the production of the album***.

** Grammy's included Best Contemporary World Music Album; Best Pop Instrumental Performance. 

*** Nicole also runs a business called the Amias Project, which "has mobilized over 200 Barabaig men and women in central Tanzania to design and craft jewelry and handbags inspired by traditional fashions". These items are then sold in the US (and around the world?) to generate income and educational opportunities for the Tanzanian communities. Cool stuff. 

There are a few other things I'll be picking up in the next 24 hours to complete the package. I haven't settled on the final items, but my guess is that they'll be assorted pictures of Minnesota. 


53 hours!

Moses!

Here's a link to a story from the Minneapolis Star Tribune about a Kenyan boy named Moses who's been on an interesting journey. The reason I'm posting it here is because the leader of our trip to East Africa, Tim Murphy, is a prominent figure in the story. I'll let the article speak for itself, but it's definitely worth a look.

Star Tribune - Moses

PS - Moses will be on our flight to Nairobi, so I'll get to hang out with him. I've heard he likes buttons and french fries. I'm still looking for the ultimate gift for Moses that combines these two things...

Safari Gear

One of the many things that I've learned about myself while preparing for this trip is that I love safari gear (most outerwear, in fact). Can't hide it.* I have noted the irony in that sentence because, as a child, I essentially hated the outdoors. Fact: I was the kid that didn't run around outside without a piece of fabric between my toes and the grass (socks, sandals, shoes, slippers...etc). Mostly socks though. Weird, I know. Anyway, in the last few years I guess I've realized that my lack of experience with the outdoors as an adolescent has led to a deep fascination with camping/hiking/safariing/general outdoorsyness as an adult. Hence the love of safari gear. And fleece jackets. I'm not sure I'm ready to join my Widjiwagan-y friends and hit the arctic circle for 39 days, but I can bite off a supervised, safari trip in a large vehicle with automatic locks -- no problem. 


* I hate that it's called safari gear, by the way. Reminds me of "carpenter jeans" or something that has become a cliched shell of it's former useful self. Safari is now a style and not an activity for which the product is used. I guess that's commonplace, but it seems particularly transparent with "safari shirts" or "safari hats". What does a shirt with two pockets and some extra buttons have to offer that a t-shirt doesn't? I can't put my binoculars in the pockets, too narrow. I can't keep a souvenir gazelle bone in the pocket, too shallow. You get the point.


So I have to exercise some budgetary restraint for two reasons: a) I have very little money to spend on "safariwear" that I'll use for 5 weeks of my life; b) I don't want to make myself look like an even bigger tourist. Yes, I realize that reason B will be essentially impossible to avoid...but I've gotta draw the line somewhere and that line has been drawn at floppy hats. I will NOT be buying a floppy hat. A part of me is slightly disappointed by this.


Not sure there's a point to this entry, but I'll probably be learning a lot during this trip so I wanted to get the first introspective anecdote out of the way. I think it was a good one. 

Off to a fast start! 

GSE -- An explanation

So many of you are writing (mostly by hand), tweeting, texting, buzzing, me: "Peter, what is the GSE?!?"* Well, I have your answers. Please stop sending all the hand-written letters.


*- this blog has not been made public yet, so this quite untrue.


Direct quote from the Rotary website: "The Rotary Foundation’s Group Study Exchange (GSE) program is a unique cultural and vocational exchange opportunity for businesspeople and professionals between the ages of 25 and 40 who are in the early stages of their careers. For four to six weeks, team members experience the host country's culture and institutions, observe how their vocations are practiced abroad, develop personal and professional relationships, and exchange ideas."


So our small group of 6 (including Tim Murphy, the team leader and only Rotarian on the trip) will be traveling to Kampala, Uganda on April 3, 2010. We will be spending about three weeks in Uganda, followed by another week in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia for the District Conference of District 9200 (of Ethiopia, Eritrea, Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda). Throughout our time in Uganda and Ethiopia, we will staying with Rotarian families, giving presentations on our vocations here in the US, listening to presentations about local culture and businesses and possibly visiting or volunteering with RI/USAID projects in Northern Uganda. Exciting! 


As you might be able to tell from my vague description of our possible activities, the detailed itinerary has yet to be determined (or at least made public). So, who knows?! It's only slightly terrifying to be going to Africa without a clear picture of what'll happen. But it's also mostly exhilarating. 36 days away!


Asante sana (squash banana).

Ethiopian Tunes

Just another quick post to get the ball rolling. A musician friend of mine, Frank, forwarded some information on Ethiopiques, an Ethiopian afro-funk jazz group from the 1970s. I think they're fantastic, but I understand that jazz isn't everyone's cup of tea. You can listen to them freely at last.fm.

Highly recommended. (As Rachel would say, "do it for me-thiopia!")

Witty Title

I'm still working on the name of this blog. The title, as it stands, is "Uganda Love This Blog", which I think is hilarious. I may or may not have received some help on the idea (thanks Rachel!). Regardless, before I leave for Africa, this blog will have a name tag placed squarely on its chest.