Travel at the weekend (Dhermi)

So the 5 of us (Rali my SAIS fellow roomie, 3 of her intern friends at the US embassy, and me) piled into a Jeep Wrangler Sport (4 seatbelts) at 6 AM Saturday morning and bumped and lumped our way down what would be maybe 120 miles, and it took about 5 hours because of the roads- unbelievable switchbacks and weaving, potholes and narrow mountain passes... reminded me of the path up to Yosemite falls, where you keep coming upon switchbacks and wonder if you're moving anywhere at all. It was kind of unreal because of the beauty of the landscape so I didn't feel worried about falling to my death from the very high mountainsides we were traversing, although I did think about it a few times- we were REALLY high, and there were often no barriers at the many blind turns.... !
But we made it, and found a few beaches where we went swimming, and the water was wonderfully warm- a first for me. The swimming was sooo nice. The Ionian (south of Vlore is the Ionian, north of it is the Adriatic) is very salty, prone to pebbly beaches, and very clear. So watch out for contact wearers or getting any water in your eyes (they tear) or walking barefoot on the shore! The sea reminds me of Greece, Hawaii, pictures of Sicily, even sandy Gallipoli (like the Sphinx part) sometimes... it's so OLD...
ANyway. I'm back in Tirana. There was a moment yesterday (Sunday) when I was walking up to a cafe from a lagoon and I actually smelled the pines and scrub and land, and I felt like I was really absorbing the landscape, but then the next moment I couldn't smell anymore. I may have said this before, but I'm even more sure now that being so blocked up is just my body's defense against the horrible smells and exhaust and fumes of Tirana. I'm taking anti-allergy pills now, but they only last unil about 4 PM, then I start struggling to breathe again. And any attempts to ask for anti-congestion tablets at the local farmaci produces a firmly shaking head- no, there are only nose sprays for anti-congestion, which of course isn't true. *sigh* I tried the big Greek farmaci, where they speak English, and the woman recommended breaking the pill in half, taking the second half later in the day. Enh, I just have to keep busy and forget about my nose, then it's not a problem. Except while dodging dodgy traffic.
Finally cooling off in the capital, going from over 100 back down to a high of 93, 94. And I bought one of the little wooden parasols I see middle-aged ladies with here, to protect themselves from the sun. Hey, I know I'm white, nevermind people squinting at the reflection of the sun, as Jonathan was describing...

"Everyone in Africa has worms"

In case you hadn't heard yet, that's the word on the street. So all you guys in Ghana, Rwanda, and Malawi, might as well have your relatives send you some gummy worms so you can at least say "we have worms where I come from too" just to fit in; although my guess is you'll have the African kind before the package makes it to you.
The other day I woke in the morning to find myself staring at a goat through my scorpion net . Yes, the goat was IN my room, next to my bed! It had been a rainy night and I guess it had decided to come inside to sleep. It might have knocked, but you know me, I sleep through anything. But you might be asking yourself why I call it my scorpion net. Well, I have come to fear the scorpions more than the mosquitos, and this is why. The other day we were at a meeting (that makes it sound like we were around some table in some office on the 7th floor of some building, but really we were just under a mango tree, the lucky ones sitting on cracked plastic chairs while the others trying not to fall off thin tree logs barely balanced on stones)-- sorry, I got sidetracked. I was saying that one of the men at the meeting looked sick and as I tried to follow the conversation in Arabic I caught just one word: malaria! Well, turns out that "when someone is sick they just say they have malaria." That's good to know I guess. And hey, I'm not worried because I bought myself the pills whose slogan is "if you get malaria take these pills and you won't die". You guys might have heard about those prophylactics that they have people take: the ones that make you have messed up dreams (or don't let you sleep at all); the ones that make you as sick as if you had malaria and worms at the same time; the ones that don't allow you to get tanned so you can be whiter than your usual color while everyone around you is already squinting as the light off your unusually white skin blinds them; and guess what? At the end of the day, if you take those prophylactics you still might get malaria! Malaria prophylactics anyone? Oh, and in case any of you were wondering, I haven't received my anti-scorpion stuff yet, so that's why my scorpion net is my lifeline. Today I was supposed to fly out of here, but my first attempt to make it to my sister's wedding failed. The gods were gracious enough to open the skies for us, but there are always man-made problems. The flight was scheduled to arrive at 13:43 local time. Here in the Nuba Mountains where we only have 2 scheduled flights a week, WFP (who runs the flights) probably thinks it's funny to set an arrival time of 13:43; as if there's a clock anywhere around the airstrip; as if anyone has a watch that is half-reliable; as if the flights actually arrive! And so it was that we sat there in our vehicles at the airstrip next to the fuel barrels listening... hoping that the 13:43 plane would show up. Suddenly, it must have been 14:43, someone's satellite phone rang. "Technical problems". No plane.
Having heard of horror stories of planes arriving, but not being able to land, I had rejoiced during the thunderstorm last night because I knew that not only before, but "there is calm after the storm" too. At the same time, I had also heard that pilots pull off all kinds of stunts. Once a pilot was trying to land, but the landing strip was covered with goats, so his first attempt failed and he had to go back up and come back around. On his second attempt he said "screw the goats" and just landed anyway. Fortunately none were caught in the propellers. Birds are usually the problem and in fact once, a pilot coming here hit a bird on his way up and announced to the 8 passengers that he would have to let all the fuel out in mid-air and might have to go in for a crash-landing since he wasn't sure whether the landing gear had been damaged. To come full circle, and to end the pilot stories, there was a time when a pilot, although advised and ordered not to land, had landed a plane in the worst weather conditions because "he just had to go"..."nature called"... I say it must have been the prophylactics. But in my case it wasn't meant to be... technical problems it was, and now I am still here in Kauda hoping that a plane will come and rescue me before it is too late. Literally rescue me. Save me from what could be my inevitable death or eternal family disownment if I miss my sister's wedding. (In case you were wondering I have NOT given my family the link to this blog)

No roads

Other than eating white ants and hunting scorpions, what is Jonathan actually doing, you might ask. Well, first let me describe the conditions under which we try to work. It's the rainy season. That means that almost every day it rains. So what? Well, I woke up this morning and it was cloudy, which means no power. We had a generator, but it broke down and was flown out last week, but who knows when it'll be flown back. So that's why we have to rely on the solar panels 100%. So we had planned to do all kinds of things on the computer, but that didn't happen. We talked to a man from the Norwegian Church Aid yesterday and were supposed to meet him at 9 am, but turns out he left town this morning, so the meeting was postponed til 4:30 pm. No power and no meeting. In the meantime our IT guy was supposed to be conducting a computer training for some of our partners organizations, but without power there wasn't going to be much of a training. So no power, no meeting and no computer training. The morning flies by... I'm not sure what we got done, but all of the plans we had yesterday evaporated into nothing. I talked to David for a while, who reassured me, "No hurry in Africa". He also informed me that wives are quite cheap here in the Nuba Mountains, only 2 cows! But let me tell you about the afternoon. Just before lunch the sun came out and there was hope that we could get some work done on the computer and make our 4:30 meeting. We got some work done on the computer (almost two hour's worth!), but then the wind started blowing. Sand was blowing through the nets on the windows (there is no glass) and the rain was coming, so we had to close all the computers and hide everything in the drawers and cabinets because the roof leaks and the wind can blow the rainwater in. So we sat and watched the trees bend and the sheets of rain fall all around us. By four it had all stopped and we were ready to go to our 4:30 meeting. We all get into the vehicle and headed out. Let me just add that we have no spare tires. We put in an order a while back, but a bridge collapsed in Kenya and the vehicle that is supposed to be bringing them our way is stuck. Stuck is exactly where we don't want to end up, but everything except for the airstrip is at least 5 km and 3 potential streams away. Some are streams, but others would be insulted to be called that, because they become true rivers, and as you see the brown water appear from nowhere and fill the dry bed, as if someone up in the hills has just turned on the faucet, you can imagine the Pharaoh and his men getting washed away by the waters in the Exodus, only a few hundred miles North of here. After miraculously making it across dangerous waters and reaching our meeting point, only to find that the people we were supposed to meet were not there, we proceeded towards the center of "town" hoping to meet someone else instead. To get there, however, we would have to cross real rapids. People were standing on either side of the "river" wondering how long they would have to wait until they'd be able to cross. Some ventured across on foot, with the water reaching almost their waist, and with their bikes being carried over their heads. They probably can't swim, so I'm not sure what they would have done if the water had swept them away. There were 3 other vehicles on our side (a tractor, a UN jeep, and a big truck), and a pickup on the other side. Nobody wanted to test the waters, but eventually somebody did, and barely made it across as their pickup was nearly submerged. I'm here writing this, which kinda kills the suspense, but we took a few of the "pedestrians" along with us for the ride and made it across. (In case you were wondering, we didn't charge for the ferry service.) Our second attempt for a meeting also failed as we found nobody in the PACT office, and to top it all off we didn't even catch the guy who had to sign a contract with us... he apparently ran home to avoid the rain. So we turned around and went home, although we knew that there would be more unknowns ahead of us. Now remember, there are no roads in the Nuba Mountains. I know, you must be thinking that I'm exaggerating, but it's true, there are no roads, not even dirt roads. On our way home we came across what you might call a road block. We had made our usual S-shape route around the usual tree when suddenly we could go no further, as the way we usually would take was blocked by branches and tree trunks, which had purposely put there. There were some men standing nearby and their message was "we are cultivating this land". Waru, our program manager, was shocked: "This is the main road, I thought!" he said confused. "Since 2001" replied another one of our staff. Well, so they thought, but they had forgotten that in the Nuba mountains there are no roads. They are both Sudanese, but from the South, not from here. When I heard Waru ask "did they give prior notice" I couldn't help myself and exploded into laughter. I asked Waru the other day why all this former soldiers are still carrying their weapons around with them everywhere they go; he replied "they are still soldiers". So of course we weren't going to start an argument. We turned around and found another way through, laying the ground for what might become the new main road.

White ants for dinner

Today I saw a line in a resume/CV that read "can resist thirst and hunger". This is Sudan. His name is David and he is one of the people I work closely with here. For those of you who know as much as I knew six months ago about South Sudan (in other words very little) let me describe the story of most of the people I meet here so you can better understand the quote above. The southern half of Sudan was at war for 21 years both with each other and with the North. Most of the young men in the South fled to Ethiopia and eventually many ended up in Uganda or Kenya at refugee camps. They are the so-called "lost boys" because they were separated from their families and are, in some cases, still to this day looking for their family members. I could go on, but that is the really short version of the story. I guess I was just trying to give some background for now. This is actually the first time I'm writing from my site (Kauda), in the Nuba Mountains region of Sudan, a contested area between the North and the South, which has been administratively divided 55% North, 45% South, but nobody really knows what that means. I'm here with an NGO, the International Rescue Committee (IRC), sleeping in their compound, which is actually not what you might imagine a compound to be like: a few sticks have been put around the property (an area of about 7.5 acres if that means anything to you) to protect the "vegetable garden" from goats and other animals coming in, but this "fence" has been eaten up by termites, so there isn't much of a fence left; even though the total staff here is over a dozen people (all Sudanese) only 4 of us sleep here: the guard, the program manager (Waru), the finance guy (Lassu), and myself; we don't have tents, but we sleep in rooms with mosquito nets, which, more than anything, are meant to protect us from the scorpions that might fall from the ceiling. It rains almost every day here, and there aren't any roads, which means you just follow the tracks of another vehicle and make your way around the trees and shrubs that way. (apparently all the land mines have been removed) The only thing that is smooth and looks like a road is actually a river bed that is all dried up, but apparently floods as soon as it rains and the water comes rushing down from the hills. Jeeps, tractors, and motorcycles are the only vehicles that will get through the mud, although they sometimes have trouble crossing rivers since "in the Nuba Mountains there are rivers, but there aren't bridges". Recently, coming back from somewhere, the staff was stuck in the vehicle for 6 hours, surrounded by water on all sides. Luckily there aren't any wild animals in the area, but there are many iguana-like purple and orange lizards roaming around as weird-looking wasps fly about and snakes find their way on the ground. At night the real "wildlife" comes out. Frogs, worms, scorpions, geckos, mosquitos, grasshoppers, spiders, and apparently there are these bugs called "white ants". White ants are not ants, nor are they white in fact. They are more like thin beetles with white wings. They only come out sometimes in the evening after the rain, and Wednesday I was lucky enough to see them. It was around 8 pm when we turned on our solar lamp. In a few seconds there were dozens of these bugs flying towards the lamp. I thought it was pretty disgusting, but Lassu rejoiced! He moved the lamp outside the room, ran to get a big basin which had a little water in it, and placed the basin in front of the lamp. The basin started to fill with these "white ants" as he called them, and soon I was also crouched down grabbing these bugs in flight and throwing them into the 2 basins (one was not proving enough so we had to fetch a second). When, the plague was over, Lassu proclaimed "We will soak them tonight, take their wings off in the morning, fry them, and have them for dinner"... and so we did.

From the heart of Africa - Rwanda

So Pierre and I are here hanging out in Kigali, Rwanda. Actually, he's with a different organization, so I've only seen him once since we've arrived. Kigali is a cool city, pretty big and active. The people are super friendly, and I've been surprised by how openly everyone talks about and discusses the genocide. The microfinance institution I'm working with is going through a merger right now to become the first microfinance bank to be licensed by the central bank. So even though it is a bit crazy around the office, it is a cool time to be here. There is a big AIDS conference that will be hosted in Kigali next week, and rumors have it some big names (maybe Bill Gates, maybe Angelina Jolie) will attend. It's actually really mild temperature here, do I dare to even say a bit chilly? I guess Kigali is at a high elevation. But I didn't expect that in Africa. OK, gotta run, but hope you all are having fun!

Just to give an idea

Here's the picture of the Pyramid, formerly dictator Hoxha's mausoleum, now a museum/ nightclub, a week BEFORE the visit, when the city was completely plastered with banners and flags and posters. The day of, the sides were covered by about doznes of AMERICAN flags, starting small at the top, and increasing in size as they neared the ground. I am told that the "Ekspozite" on Bush inside includes baby pictures and different pictures of the life og Bush. I don't know, I didn't go in.
Normally, the sides of the Pyramid are plain, and sometimes kids get towels and slide down them.

Dubya wuz here ... and left a mark

So I'm in Tirana, Albania. It's a capital with about 650,000 people, who you see over and over again, because everyone hangs out at the same cafes. I'm working on starting up a volunteer program that would encourage Albanians living in other countries who vacation here or visit family to donate some time and skills to businesses, environmental projects, book drives, whatever, we're still working on exactly what. However, this last weekend, a remarkable thing happened. Bush.
Because it was the first visit from a standing US president, the city went crazy. The city government, I should say, because most people seemed pretty nonplussed (but I must include the fact that there were a few people who sported T-shirts given out saying "Proud to be Partners: Albania and America" and silly Uncle Sam stovepipe cardboard hats). But the municipality saw fit to name a street after him. Yes. So now the street formerly called "Workers of the Renaissance" is now called George W. Bush Street. Not only that, the security was ridiculous. Albania as a nation gave up its sovereignty for the 7 hours that W. was here, and America colonized the city and a surrounding village where Bush went to shake hands, since apparently it wasn't safe to do so here. Streets were blocked off, policemen standing at intervals of 15 feet to make sure no one ran onto the main street that we were allowed to walk on, hours before or after it was traversed by the motorcade. Seven hours.
So while I'm not working in the bush, I still got to see one, unfortunately.
Great to hear about other people's funny stories here though- it's nice to keep up with people's adventures!

To be or not to be... hanged

I had been told about the Russian pilots that fly Russian planes and drink a lot of “whiskey”. I saw one result of this as we approached the airport in Loki at dawn as I spotted a crashed plane on the side of the runway. Makes you feel safe; but at least a priest blessed our departure from Juba, so I knew I’d be ok. As soon as I arrived in Rumbek, Charles, the driver, had a great welcoming speech prepared (this is right after he pointed out yet another crashed plane). He started by telling me that there had been “chaos” and 1,000 bullets had been shot a couple days ago. He wasn’t very clear, but something about student protests. Then, as we approached the center of town and he told me to put away my camera, he mentioned that today there was a hanging scheduled. Well, actually, 3 people were supposed to be hanged. Not only 3 people, but 2 Kenyans and an Australian. His story was that they had been in the same accommodation as a guy who had committed suicide, so they were all sentences to death. Now I’m starting to freak out!
But thank goodness Gertrude at the office has cleared things up for me and explained more about the riots; about how the bullets had been fired in the air (not at people); about how certain people had complained that bullets shot in the air was meant for animals, not for people, and that things were being resolved, even though the students had destroyed the ministry of education and finance’s office because they were not paying teachers, who therefore weren’t coming to school. As for the hangings, it sounds like they were acquitted thanks to consular and ambassadorial interventions. It had been a Ukranian drunk (sounds about right) who had died in the first place and everything was going to be ok.
I guess it’s time for dinner and anti-mosquito stick… The curfew they’ve imposed is from 12-5, but I plan to be sleeping then... I'm just not sure how deeply.

Too many gringos

I arrived in "Guate" two days ago after suffering through three flights from NY. Guate is cold. Panama is hot. I am holed up in Antigua, which is supposed to a beautiful city. I am not too impressed as it has turned into Gringo central. Gringo inflation has made the cheapest beer I can find $2+. When beer costs $2+ that has to be a sign of development. There could be a new poverty measurement, beer prices. One of those "I" variables in econometrics.

Screw the Nuba mountains and typing out a blog via a solar panel and satelite internet. I am typing mine at a "Bagel Barn" via free wifi after just slurping down a pineapple milkshake. Every other store is an internet cafe or a travel agency pushing some kind of tour. Being around Gringo travellers puts me in a bad mood. Especially when I have to listen to one scream into her laptop, sharing her whole conversation with rest of the customers in the Bagel Barn. I share the town with a 1000 college students studying spanish or just hanging out. Tomorrow I will climb a live volcano to around 10,000 feet. Then, finally Monday I will start "working", which means meeting and discussing more paperwork. I feel like I am already under a mountain of paperwork. At least my boss is interesting and a local, so I will get an inside visit to most of the country hopefully.

My first night in Guate I spent with my boss's sister's boyfriend. He offered to let me crash at his place and I accepted a free bed of course. This free bed was found in a huge penthouse apartment, probably 2000 sq. feet at least and included my own bathroom with hot water. His mother is a famous poet, but I saw the books she had published and they looked more like trashy romance novels. I can now brag that I have stayed at the house of the Danielle Steele of Guatemala. I was really roughing it in the morning when the maid asked me what I wanted for breakfast and then the chofer drove me around to complete all of the errands I needed. Nothing like living with the people you are trying to help.

I finally feel like I have kind of dropped down to their level by staying in a really simple hotel. Shared bathroom and the 10x10 room only has a really rickety bed with a mattress that has to be 20 years old, a table covered with a dirty table cloth, a chair, one bare light bulb, and a floor that hasn't been swept in a month. I think I might have some traveler's diahrria, but I am waiting for a day or two more to confirm that. Nothing that a little Cipro from the local doctor won't fix.

Beat that Bartolozzi and screw Milan, Liverpool played a better game...

Loki, Kenya

I'm in Loki, Kenya near the border with Sudan and Uganda and Ethiopia. I feel like a "humanitarian"... just like in the Fred Cuny movie, walking in these desolate places with shrubs, surrounded by WFP tents, humanitarian workers, Africans, the heat, hills in the background, the sun, that typical African sunset which not only do you see, but you feel too. I'm in a UN compound/camp. I thought I would never be on one, but here I am. I have my OLS pass and it's all so surreal. My room is super nice with a fridge (not sure what for) a fan, 3 alarm clocks, a clock, a chest of drawers, a table and chair, a little night-table, and a bed for 2 or 3 people (will I have company?) as well as 3 mirrors! It's funny how when a plane lands you can hear it, so it's pretty much a "oh, the plane is here, let's go get Jonathan (or whoever is supposed to land)". On the plane I had Malaysian chips and Saudi cookies, while the signs in the plane were all in Spanish and English... There are this nym trees here that have fruits that look like more oval yellow translucent grapes, but they are "very bitter". Mango juice is a great thing about flights within Kenya, and having only 16 people on a plane meant for 80 was kinda weird. The huts look like hay stacks as you land into Loki and the UN WFP stock houses are all along the side of the runway. The landing was superb and the hills as you land look like out of monument valley because they kinda pop out of nowhere and are cut... but the green brush is everywhere and the dried-up river is right below you as you land. Tin roofs, Guate-style, and everyone and their mom is here: Unicef, Save, Norwegians, IRC, Care, Oxfam, and people I've never even heard of. The arrival at the airport is great because a truck picks up the luggage and just drops it off for you to pick up on the side of a bar where you might wait for a plane.. just like where Leonardo DiCaprio lands in Blood Diamond. My flight for Juba is at 6:45 tomorrow, I think, so we are meeting at the office at 6:30. classic. My boss/supervisor is meeting me tomorrow in Rumbek, and I saw in one of the emails that he wrote that I need to get myself some sort of scorpion-sting antidote of sorts. Super. Plane just landed I think. Ours was definitely the only one on the runway that had a real engine and wasn't just a propeller. One thing I've noticed is that people say hi by raising their hand just above their waist with their palm facing out.... I can get used to that.
It's only 5, but the sun is setting fast over the mountainous hills.