Wow this week is moving fast!
I had a meeting with UNHCR's Community Services department today regarding my own project and also another meeting at UNHCR regarding the SAVE project. I spent the morning making the construction drawings and now it turns out that I need to design a whole new set of drawings as we decided on new building dimensions, window styles, and roof shape. The new roof is a bit more complicated so the new drawings will take more time as well. I don't know how I'm going to finish everything by Saturday!
Aside from that, I received notice from American University of Cairo that they have drafted my invitation for admission to their Post-Grad program in Refugee Studies. That will definately assist my Fulbright application. Yeah!
Anyway, back to work!
August 28, 2007
August 26, 2007
Ant Hills
I have been meaning for some time to send everyone a photo of the enormous ant hills in this country, but without a person in the photo to determine the scale, it is really difficult to capture just how massive these are.
100% Sand
100% Sand
August 25, 2007
SAVE
Wow, am I exhausted. Today I travelled between all three camps and finalized the 6 locations for the SAVE Child Centers from a pool of about 15 possibilities. The great thing is that I had my own multi-lingual driver (with 4 wheel drive Toyata pickup truck), a satellite phone/ gps unit, and a team of 3 people, each being there to help me with whatever I might require. Only one site requires a second investigation.
However all of the locations should accomodate the interest of SAVE regarding the surround social dynamics, topography, accessibility, drainage, and each one is within 20 meters of a water tap. Now I just need to make the drawings and imbed the footprints on a satellite image. After I leave they should have no problem knowing where and how to build these things.
It has been rather exciting to do this project as I have really been in control of it from start to finish. Even when arriving at the various sites, I called all the shots, and although I constantly asked for imput from the group, they all expected that I deliver the final word. Being that I'm still in grad school, it feels rather crazy to suddenly be directing an entire project like this. Being in control of such a large quantity of money, and recognizing the communal impact that these will serve, it is nearly overwhelming to simply step into this and dicate what is going to happen.
Anyway, after running about all day, I am worn out and will have to wait till tomorrow or the day after to write more. I hear there is a party at the UN tonight, so I'm going to skip dinner here and go fill up on grilled goat and go straight to bed.
August 22, 2007
August 21, 2007
Crazed days
Now that I'm in the final phase of work, my days have been jammed full. I just left a meeting with the UNHCR technical director regarding the site planning and construction. I've had to ditch the planned prefabricated buildings because the architecture firm in Nairobi has been unable to meet the deadline I had specified of last Tuesday. As this project must be completed and I am leaving soon, it is an absolute necessity that all planning is completed within the next 10 days so that construction may begin immediately soon after (Each of the 6 buildings will require 8 to 10 weeks for construction). Anyway, I've managed to propose 4 sites in each camp and we have all agreed on a general building design. Now I just need to draw up the maps and make the building plans. Having been educated in the states doesn't help me much when making all plans in metric, but that is the only hassle I should have. I'm excited about the maps as I found google earth has updated the area and I will be able to create my own layover in much higher detail than the UN maps.
Aside from that I spent the morning in the Sudanese blocks with a guy named Sunday Williams. He told me his first name was given to him by a white woman who was working in Sudan after he was born on a Sunday. We sat drinking tea and eating bread, listening to Tu Pac Shakur. Afterward I investigated the shelter systems practiced by the Sudanese, which is nearly identical to the Gambellans, although they will often use different color soils to decorate their houses with designs of lions, zebras, and Christian or tribal motifs.
Tomorrow I will be spending the day making mud bricks. I only hope that I don't draw a crowd, as I frequently must deal with this problem. As lone white people are never seen in the "blocks," a crowd will often gather when I stop and talk to people. One day it was a total mess as about 50 people gathered and I saw UN Security coming to investigate/diffuse the situation. I simply turned and walked away. I have to be very careful about this. But it might be difficult tomorrow as the image of a white man making mud bricks is an exceptional, if not surreal image among the refugee community.
Not much else to say, the weather is acting strange and it is likely to storm. Not only can you see the grayness of the falling rain as it sweeps across the desert plane, but you can hear it slamming down upon the scorched earth before it reaches you. It has rained offre an on for the last few days which is Extremely unusual here. I'm really afraid that it will flood here in the next couple months as it did last October, displacing 20,000 refugees, destroying the roads, and killing dozens as their mud brick homes collapsed down upon them. The people here do not need another flood with meter high water rushing down the streets, they have enough problems as it is.
Right now there is a measles epidemic in the camp. On Sunday I heard that one case had been diagnosed, today I was told by the camp director that the number has risen to 35.
Yesterday I had written a rather long letter to my mother only to watch it disappear as the computer crashed. I had spent about an hour writing, and it was quite lengthy, yet I really am not up to doing it all over again. However, I thought perhaps I could rewrite part of it, and share this story with everyone. Although anyone working in development and aid will encounter the most wretched, profound, and poetic excesses of humanity, I found this example worth sharing.
Aside from that I spent the morning in the Sudanese blocks with a guy named Sunday Williams. He told me his first name was given to him by a white woman who was working in Sudan after he was born on a Sunday. We sat drinking tea and eating bread, listening to Tu Pac Shakur. Afterward I investigated the shelter systems practiced by the Sudanese, which is nearly identical to the Gambellans, although they will often use different color soils to decorate their houses with designs of lions, zebras, and Christian or tribal motifs.
Tomorrow I will be spending the day making mud bricks. I only hope that I don't draw a crowd, as I frequently must deal with this problem. As lone white people are never seen in the "blocks," a crowd will often gather when I stop and talk to people. One day it was a total mess as about 50 people gathered and I saw UN Security coming to investigate/diffuse the situation. I simply turned and walked away. I have to be very careful about this. But it might be difficult tomorrow as the image of a white man making mud bricks is an exceptional, if not surreal image among the refugee community.
Not much else to say, the weather is acting strange and it is likely to storm. Not only can you see the grayness of the falling rain as it sweeps across the desert plane, but you can hear it slamming down upon the scorched earth before it reaches you. It has rained offre an on for the last few days which is Extremely unusual here. I'm really afraid that it will flood here in the next couple months as it did last October, displacing 20,000 refugees, destroying the roads, and killing dozens as their mud brick homes collapsed down upon them. The people here do not need another flood with meter high water rushing down the streets, they have enough problems as it is.
Right now there is a measles epidemic in the camp. On Sunday I heard that one case had been diagnosed, today I was told by the camp director that the number has risen to 35.
Yesterday I had written a rather long letter to my mother only to watch it disappear as the computer crashed. I had spent about an hour writing, and it was quite lengthy, yet I really am not up to doing it all over again. However, I thought perhaps I could rewrite part of it, and share this story with everyone. Although anyone working in development and aid will encounter the most wretched, profound, and poetic excesses of humanity, I found this example worth sharing.
Over the last two weeks I spent a some off hours hanging out with a girl named Kate, a nursing student at Oxford-Brookes University in England who had completed a BS in Social Anthropology before deciding to pursue a BS in Nursing. She was working here with GTZ and has quite a bit of previous field experience in other parts of Africa.
Kate told me about a woman she knows from the UK who was working for the Red Cross in Ethiopia some years back when the country was deteriorating from famine and violence. The nurse was entrusted with the heart-wrenching task of choosing which infants and young children were to receive medical attention from the highly limited medical supplies and which children would be denied aid. Consequently it was her decision which children were to live and which children were not. As the emergency conditions render the necessary supplies to be scarce, only the children with a strong chance of survival receive attention while those with inferior conditions must be neglected. It is not a fair system, but it is necessary, or else no one will receive enough attention and very few will live.
The nurse did her job the best she could, utilizing her skills and previous experience to do the most she could for all children in need, and at the same time she did her best to face the hopeless situations with a professional detachment. However on one particular day she encountered an infant consumed by malnutrition and sickness. Although it was obvious that the child would not survive for very long, regardless of medical intervention, the woman followed a strong inner impulse to send the baby to the medical ward.
After returning to England, the nurse lived with pangs of guilt and remorse for nearly two decades. When approached by a documentary director with an offer to return to Ethiopia and meet the surviving community, she feared to find a community imbued with anger, and yet she eventually acquiesced.
Upon her return she found no anger or remorse, but a mass of people thanking her for the work that she had done. She found herself surrounded by a congregation of young men and women who were all alive because of the opportunity she had given them when they were sick and in need. The nurse had encountered many familiar faces as well as many new ones, each greeting her with enthusiasm and delight. After moving forward into the heart of the community, the nurse was suddenly approached by a beautiful young woman who was in fact the particular hopeless child chosen to receive medical attention, regardless the bleak outlook.
Although it easy to become something of an apathetic zombie when continually faced with hellish challenges and limited outcomes, it is stories such as this which tend to warm the hearts among aid workers, and rekindle their hope to make a positive contribution to the present situation. When a finish line has suddenly appeared after miles of hurdles, and a glimmer of success is manifest among the people you are attempting to facilitate, the personal struggle is justified; better yet, it is altogether compensated by the personal satisfaction of having accomplished an impossible goal of having ended a terrible suffering, or even by the simple pleasure having provided a the innocent child with the gift of a smile.
August 18, 2007
August 16, 2007
Gambella Block part 2
I'm really enjoying the new phase of research. I spent the morning in the Gambella block again, constructing walls out of dirt, sand, and water. I really enjoy this neighborhood - if I had to move here, I would certainly live with the Gambella.ns The people are quite sensible and have a sense of style. Their tea is laced with cardamom and coffee is served with a smoking dish of incense. The food isn't bad - although you can imagine refugee rations to be rather bland. I respect reasonable approach the Gambellans have toward life decisions. Although they believe marriage is very important, they believe that one should be financially prepared before getting married, and afterward one should only have as many children as can be afforded. Furthermore, they believe that children should be spaced apart by four years each to make sure that each child receives full parental attention to his or her needs. This is a great contrast to the Somali family structure. Yesterday I met a woman who has 12 children, the oldest of which is 24 years old. She told me that her husband was resettled to the USA about 2 or 3 years ago, and if he was still home, she would have had 2 more children by this time!
In addition to family planning, great coffee, and clean streets (as I had mentioned about Sanitation Day within the last entry), the Gambellans also carry out their daily duties in a systematic fashion. Instead of the mothers having to cook all of the meals for her family every day, families take turns and cook for each other on a three or four day cycle. On Monday you might prepare lunch and dinner for three families -including your own- and then store the food in a common area so that each family may drop by at their own convenience to serve themselves. Afterward you will not need to do any cooking until Thursday, as you will visit the homes of the other families for your meals. I rather like this approach as I believe cooking more food twice a week is much less laborious than cooking dinner everyday. The best part is that you not only avoid cooking dinner everyday, but with self service, you don't even have to see the people you are cooking for!
August 15, 2007
Phase II
So for the first 4 weeks of my work here, I have spent most of my time organizing, training, and managing 35 young men and women to conduct field research for me. As I do not speak Af Soomali, Amharic, or Dinka, it would have required many months or years to obtain a useful quantity of information. However, by training others, I have been able to rely upon the intimate knowledge of the refugees who have lived here for many years to collect the needed data, and by providing training and management, have been able to obtain a wealth of information in a useful format.
Now as I only have three weeks left, I have begun today on Phase II. I am now spending each day within homes and among families of refugees in a much more intimate fashion. I spent this morning with a young man by the name of Amin, and with his assistence as an interpreter, have visited several Somali families to discuss the shelter needs and construction methods. This morning we also visited a block which contains the most vulnerable populations and receives additional protection from the UNHCR.
All of the homes within the protected compound are provided by agencies to those individuals who require greater protection. Many of these people were young, orphaned children or single, un-wed mothers. Although the UNHCR has taken additional steps to serve these people, they live in more distressing conditions than any other part of the camps I have seen. In addition their homes have been inadequately constructed and due to disrepair, are in fact dangerous to the occupants. Many of the walls on the south facing side of the buildings have collapsed, putting lives in danger. In addition the foundations are eroding and sheer cracks are forming along the walls. The block leader told me that he alerted the head of the Community Services department at UNHCR, who sent an order for it to be taken care of by a particular contractor, but that was three months ago and no one has come to make changes.
After 12:30, I spent the remaining day in the Gambella block. The Gambellans are a people who live on the border of Ethiopia and Sudan. They are expert builders and I must admit, my favorite group of people within the camps. They take great pride in their work and homes, and consequently live in the cleanest, most amiable neighborhood. They construct their homes of earth brick, and collect different soil types to make various colors of paint to decorate the buildings. Every Saturday the neighborhood has Sanitation Day, in which the whole neighborhood cleans the streets, burns the garbage, and makes repairs to their homes and fences. It is a great pleasure to spend time in a neighborhood which resonates with community pride, playing children, and beautiful women - the women dye their hair bright colors and enjoy looking like women with dresses and jewelry, they are not covered from head to toe in swaths of fabric like other ethnic groups practice. Tomorrow I am to return to Gambella and will be spending the day personally making mud bricks and helping a man build a house. I decided the best way to learn about construction within the camps is to simply do myself although it is exceedingly laborious to fabricate bricks, carry them to the site, and construct the walls of building under the climatic conditions of the region.
I believe that I will have some interesting stories rolling in over the next few weeks. Yet I will likely be quite exhausted at the end of each day. It may pose tedious to narrate the adventures and still have the energy to attend to my work in the evenings. Please forgive me in advance if my writing begins to slacken, but I assure you all that upon returning home I will be more than happy to dispense a story or two.
Now as I only have three weeks left, I have begun today on Phase II. I am now spending each day within homes and among families of refugees in a much more intimate fashion. I spent this morning with a young man by the name of Amin, and with his assistence as an interpreter, have visited several Somali families to discuss the shelter needs and construction methods. This morning we also visited a block which contains the most vulnerable populations and receives additional protection from the UNHCR.
All of the homes within the protected compound are provided by agencies to those individuals who require greater protection. Many of these people were young, orphaned children or single, un-wed mothers. Although the UNHCR has taken additional steps to serve these people, they live in more distressing conditions than any other part of the camps I have seen. In addition their homes have been inadequately constructed and due to disrepair, are in fact dangerous to the occupants. Many of the walls on the south facing side of the buildings have collapsed, putting lives in danger. In addition the foundations are eroding and sheer cracks are forming along the walls. The block leader told me that he alerted the head of the Community Services department at UNHCR, who sent an order for it to be taken care of by a particular contractor, but that was three months ago and no one has come to make changes.
After 12:30, I spent the remaining day in the Gambella block. The Gambellans are a people who live on the border of Ethiopia and Sudan. They are expert builders and I must admit, my favorite group of people within the camps. They take great pride in their work and homes, and consequently live in the cleanest, most amiable neighborhood. They construct their homes of earth brick, and collect different soil types to make various colors of paint to decorate the buildings. Every Saturday the neighborhood has Sanitation Day, in which the whole neighborhood cleans the streets, burns the garbage, and makes repairs to their homes and fences. It is a great pleasure to spend time in a neighborhood which resonates with community pride, playing children, and beautiful women - the women dye their hair bright colors and enjoy looking like women with dresses and jewelry, they are not covered from head to toe in swaths of fabric like other ethnic groups practice. Tomorrow I am to return to Gambella and will be spending the day personally making mud bricks and helping a man build a house. I decided the best way to learn about construction within the camps is to simply do myself although it is exceedingly laborious to fabricate bricks, carry them to the site, and construct the walls of building under the climatic conditions of the region.
I believe that I will have some interesting stories rolling in over the next few weeks. Yet I will likely be quite exhausted at the end of each day. It may pose tedious to narrate the adventures and still have the energy to attend to my work in the evenings. Please forgive me in advance if my writing begins to slacken, but I assure you all that upon returning home I will be more than happy to dispense a story or two.
August 11, 2007
Bittersweet
Saturdays is usually shaky regarding transport between the camps as the drivers want to get finished early and as a result it can be difficult to obtain transport after 2 unless you are important enough to have transport arranged for you own private need - which I am not. So I asked the driver if he will return or if I need to take the bus now to return to DMO. He said that he will return at 5, and then go to DMO. This was unusual, as there is usually no buses after 430. I questioned again for a confirmation, and he said Yes, 5.
So I went on with my work.
I returned at 4:50 and waited.
No driver.
Waited.
No driver.
At 530 I called my the boss at Save The Children and asked if they had a truck in the area as I was stuck at camp Dagahaley. She called CARE Security who said they will send a car to get me. Now this is a big deal as Dagahaley is about 45 minutes from DMO and transit requires a military police escort.
Long story short, I was stuck there until 7 (sunset was 6, there is no electricity in the camps and its pitch black outside), when I was about to give up and make arrangements to stay there. They sent the same driver that lied to me. I think that is why it took so long, because it was his fault that I was stuck.
So he shows up honking the horn, putting on this big show that he is simply "running late." He also seemed to be under the impression that I am a rather important person, as somebody told me that this is the first time that a special car and escort has ever been sent to Dagahaley after curfew to get someone, and he seemed rather uncomfortable when I tried to speak to him, like I was going to fire him myself.
Anyway, we drove back through the bush in the darkness. At this point, I was highly irritated, because this is not a safe place to be driving at night.
And yet, it was absolutely incredible...seeing crowds of dark bodies and faces fluttering over the sand in the moonlight, the brilliant glare of their white teeth contrasting with the shadows of their clothes as they rise and sink into the foliage and sand. Driving through the village filled me with romantic memories of the Tibetan refugees in the Himalayas, seeing crowds of families packed into little huts together, sitting about candles, sharing a meal or stories. There is an intimacy in these streets, and while the circumstances were poor, I feel fortunate to have seen life here beyond the compound gates when the bustle of local commerce and the security of family life is illuminated by bonfires and candlelight.
In many ways i am fortunate, as no other muzingo (white man) ever gets to see life outside after curfew. I am probably one of less than 10 in the 16 years that this camp has existed. It was truly beautiful and insightful.
It is frustrating when you depend on others to do their job and they do not, I'm sure we all understand that - yet is worse when your own personal security is at risk. I do not like to write about security issues, but if people choose to work in a conflict zone, then they should act like it. In the time that I've been here I've seen the consequences of those who have made poor decisions and am very angry that my own safety was jeopardized by some mans laziness. Regardless, it is unlikely that this situation will occur again, and if it does, I am now better prepared to resolve the issue in a more expedient manner.
...And yet I can only say, I was quite fortunate to have experienced this event, as I really believe I have learned a great deal about refugee life now that I have seen it after 5. In all, I consider today and aggravating success.
So I went on with my work.
I returned at 4:50 and waited.
No driver.
Waited.
No driver.
At 530 I called my the boss at Save The Children and asked if they had a truck in the area as I was stuck at camp Dagahaley. She called CARE Security who said they will send a car to get me. Now this is a big deal as Dagahaley is about 45 minutes from DMO and transit requires a military police escort.
Long story short, I was stuck there until 7 (sunset was 6, there is no electricity in the camps and its pitch black outside), when I was about to give up and make arrangements to stay there. They sent the same driver that lied to me. I think that is why it took so long, because it was his fault that I was stuck.
So he shows up honking the horn, putting on this big show that he is simply "running late." He also seemed to be under the impression that I am a rather important person, as somebody told me that this is the first time that a special car and escort has ever been sent to Dagahaley after curfew to get someone, and he seemed rather uncomfortable when I tried to speak to him, like I was going to fire him myself.
Anyway, we drove back through the bush in the darkness. At this point, I was highly irritated, because this is not a safe place to be driving at night.
And yet, it was absolutely incredible...seeing crowds of dark bodies and faces fluttering over the sand in the moonlight, the brilliant glare of their white teeth contrasting with the shadows of their clothes as they rise and sink into the foliage and sand. Driving through the village filled me with romantic memories of the Tibetan refugees in the Himalayas, seeing crowds of families packed into little huts together, sitting about candles, sharing a meal or stories. There is an intimacy in these streets, and while the circumstances were poor, I feel fortunate to have seen life here beyond the compound gates when the bustle of local commerce and the security of family life is illuminated by bonfires and candlelight.
In many ways i am fortunate, as no other muzingo (white man) ever gets to see life outside after curfew. I am probably one of less than 10 in the 16 years that this camp has existed. It was truly beautiful and insightful.
It is frustrating when you depend on others to do their job and they do not, I'm sure we all understand that - yet is worse when your own personal security is at risk. I do not like to write about security issues, but if people choose to work in a conflict zone, then they should act like it. In the time that I've been here I've seen the consequences of those who have made poor decisions and am very angry that my own safety was jeopardized by some mans laziness. Regardless, it is unlikely that this situation will occur again, and if it does, I am now better prepared to resolve the issue in a more expedient manner.
...And yet I can only say, I was quite fortunate to have experienced this event, as I really believe I have learned a great deal about refugee life now that I have seen it after 5. In all, I consider today and aggravating success.
August 9, 2007
Back at DMO
So arrived at Dadaab at 530 - been on the road since 6 am. That was a very long exhausting drive. Yet I am actually very happy to be back. When I am here I feel good about my life, I feel confident and have a sense of purpose. When I am at home in Cincinnati I long to be at places like this, and while hanging about in Nairobi I felt incredibly idle...its good to be back.
The good thing about having made a brief departure is that I suddenly see this place with somewhat new eyes. Coming to Kenya and Dadaab I have had NO sense of culture shock. The poverty, the malnutrition,the episodic insecurity - none of these things have made me even blink. Yet today returning to Dadaab I suddenly felt transported into another world, into a lush Hollywood rendition of Arab Africa.
We were driving through this desert village outpost,which was crawling with children wearing drab, dirty clothes and overflowing with rubbish when I look out the window to see a woman as dark as ebony wearing a vivid red orange tunic, marching into the hot forceful wind. Somali music was blaring on the radio, sand beating against my face the heat steadily rising - for a brief moment I felt as if I had left the world I've always known and entered into another dimension, a completely new fabrication of reality. The only other time I have ever felt this was at Amritsar India, the holiest city in the world among the Sikhs of the Punjab desert. At both moments the world turned upside down, and I can only compare it to the C.S. Lewis story of the children stepping out of the wardrobe and into magical Narnia.
So here I am. Tomorrow I will be running about the refugee camps doing my project and will be presenting my plan to Save The Children. Saturday I expect one of my research teams to submit all collected material. Now that I only have 3 weeks left there is a great deal to do and not much time! Nonetheless, as much as I miss my family, my home, my girl, and my vegetarian burritos, I honestly have no desire to be any other place in the world.
The good thing about having made a brief departure is that I suddenly see this place with somewhat new eyes. Coming to Kenya and Dadaab I have had NO sense of culture shock. The poverty, the malnutrition,the episodic insecurity - none of these things have made me even blink. Yet today returning to Dadaab I suddenly felt transported into another world, into a lush Hollywood rendition of Arab Africa.
We were driving through this desert village outpost,which was crawling with children wearing drab, dirty clothes and overflowing with rubbish when I look out the window to see a woman as dark as ebony wearing a vivid red orange tunic, marching into the hot forceful wind. Somali music was blaring on the radio, sand beating against my face the heat steadily rising - for a brief moment I felt as if I had left the world I've always known and entered into another dimension, a completely new fabrication of reality. The only other time I have ever felt this was at Amritsar India, the holiest city in the world among the Sikhs of the Punjab desert. At both moments the world turned upside down, and I can only compare it to the C.S. Lewis story of the children stepping out of the wardrobe and into magical Narnia.
So here I am. Tomorrow I will be running about the refugee camps doing my project and will be presenting my plan to Save The Children. Saturday I expect one of my research teams to submit all collected material. Now that I only have 3 weeks left there is a great deal to do and not much time! Nonetheless, as much as I miss my family, my home, my girl, and my vegetarian burritos, I honestly have no desire to be any other place in the world.
August 8, 2007
Last night in Nairobi
Its been nice to spend a few days here, but I'm rather looking forward to going back to Dadaab. Today I met with the architecture firm that designs with pre-fabricated housing units to sketch out a plan and budget for the child friendly spaces. It was crazy as I was accompanied by the Senior Child Protection and Security Officer for Save The Children UK, who I thought would be doing all the talking - but actually we arrived and he said thats its all in my hands. So worked with the head engineer and architect to discuss our needs and within one week they are to supply a spread sheet itemizing all of the cost for the various desired options. The firm wants to get into refugee operations, so I really tried to sell the idea that they need to be flexible and work with us, thereby having an opportunity to get their foot in the door. If it is a success they can expect more business in the refugee shelter domain. It has been quite enjoyable to work on this project.
Tonight I went out to dinner with some fine young women from the Center for Disease Control. I made a friend in Dadaab who is a med student in Chicago, and she was working here this summer for CDC yet she returns home tomorrow. So we went to a very classy Italian with three of her co-workers and we had a wonderful time.
I leave for Dadaab at 6:30 am, and will likely arrive at 2 or 5. We must meet the UN convoy at an appointed time and that will dictate the time of my arrival. Friday I start back to work!
Tonight I went out to dinner with some fine young women from the Center for Disease Control. I made a friend in Dadaab who is a med student in Chicago, and she was working here this summer for CDC yet she returns home tomorrow. So we went to a very classy Italian with three of her co-workers and we had a wonderful time.
I leave for Dadaab at 6:30 am, and will likely arrive at 2 or 5. We must meet the UN convoy at an appointed time and that will dictate the time of my arrival. Friday I start back to work!
Travel update
I have managed to change my return date arrangements.
I will leave Nairobi on September 4 at 11:50 pm via Kenya Airways. I will arrive at London Heathrow at 650 am on Sept 5. I will then leave London for Washington Dulles at 12 noon and arrive at 345. Will leave Washington at 530, arrive at Cincinnati at 645. I have asked Amy to pick me up a little after 7
Tomorrow morning I return to Dadaab for three weeks of data collection. Hopefully all works out, I have quite the deadline now.
M
I will leave Nairobi on September 4 at 11:50 pm via Kenya Airways. I will arrive at London Heathrow at 650 am on Sept 5. I will then leave London for Washington Dulles at 12 noon and arrive at 345. Will leave Washington at 530, arrive at Cincinnati at 645. I have asked Amy to pick me up a little after 7
Tomorrow morning I return to Dadaab for three weeks of data collection. Hopefully all works out, I have quite the deadline now.
M
August 6, 2007
Flight Change In Progress
To return back to the US at an earlier date appears to be a little more difficult than I had expected. I will be able to come back early, I just might end up stuck in London for two or three days before I get home. I'm attempting to leave Nairobi on September 4th, however I have tickets from two different airlines, one of which does not operate in Kenya and therefore it is difficult to change. Consequently, I must first try to arrange my transportation from London to Cincinnati via United Airlines, and then try to get my flight times from Kenya to London to match via Kenya Airways (Which is actually operated by Dutch Air just to make things more confusing). Assuming that seats are available, this shouldn't be a problem to make everything happen, however there is a risk that things will not work so smoothly.
To spend a few days in the UK wouldn't be bad, yet I would honestly prefer to do that with Amy in the near future, as being there is much more in her interest and it would be much more enjoyable to do together. I have a few friends in that city, and I'm sure it could be a lot of fun to run about with them, but at the moment, I really would rather go home or travel around Africa than spend my nights sitting at a pub in Notting Hill. Europe just seems so boring compared to the rest of the world. Anyway, its a good thing I brought my Visa card, with an exchange rate of 2 dollars to the Pound, and a Latte at Starbucks costing 3 to 4 Pounds, London is one expensive place!
To spend a few days in the UK wouldn't be bad, yet I would honestly prefer to do that with Amy in the near future, as being there is much more in her interest and it would be much more enjoyable to do together. I have a few friends in that city, and I'm sure it could be a lot of fun to run about with them, but at the moment, I really would rather go home or travel around Africa than spend my nights sitting at a pub in Notting Hill. Europe just seems so boring compared to the rest of the world. Anyway, its a good thing I brought my Visa card, with an exchange rate of 2 dollars to the Pound, and a Latte at Starbucks costing 3 to 4 Pounds, London is one expensive place!
August 5, 2007
Nairobi Continued
Its nice to spend a little time in Nairobi. Some of the people I met when I first arrived are here as well, so we went last night to a bar and played some billiards.
Today I went to see the Harry Potter movie which wasn't bad. The plot was weak but it was worth watching. In addition I went to the NankuMakkett grocery store and purchased some cookies/peanutbutter/bread/juice etc...so at least I'll have some snacks at Dadaab. In addition I went to a pizza place and ate a small pizza with pineapple, ham, and pepperoni. It didn't have tomato sauce, it had some sort of other strange sauce, but the taste of cheese was terrific.
Not too much else to say. Tomorrow I will go to change my flight to an earlier date. I've mastered the local bus system. Wed I have my meeting at the architecture firm to investigate the prefab housing and thursday I return to work. Later on.
M
Today I went to see the Harry Potter movie which wasn't bad. The plot was weak but it was worth watching. In addition I went to the NankuMakkett grocery store and purchased some cookies/peanutbutter/bread/juice etc...so at least I'll have some snacks at Dadaab. In addition I went to a pizza place and ate a small pizza with pineapple, ham, and pepperoni. It didn't have tomato sauce, it had some sort of other strange sauce, but the taste of cheese was terrific.
Not too much else to say. Tomorrow I will go to change my flight to an earlier date. I've mastered the local bus system. Wed I have my meeting at the architecture firm to investigate the prefab housing and thursday I return to work. Later on.
M
August 3, 2007
Nairobi
I leave tomorrow morning at 6 am for Nairobi with Save The Children. I will arrive around 3. I will be there, at The Bush House, where I had stayed before on Menengai Rd. Upperhill until thursday. On wed I go to investigate the pre-fabricated structures, although it already appears that the UN does not support my desire to use pre-fab construction. I understand, as prefab structures are often over priced, vary in quality, and generally are terrible for refugee situations. But then again, this isn't just a refugee camp, its a city of 16 years going strong.
I am constantly surprised by the continuous polarization of satisfaction and disappointment which seems to permeate every action, every setting, and every intention.
This morning I was thrilled to have caught the last jeep to camp Hagadera.
Upon reaching the camp I was disappointed to learn that the Youth Leader did not follow my directions to choose researchers for me.
I was satisfied with the enthusiasm of the selected youth,
and 10 minutes later I was highly annoyed by their complaints about me to the Youth Leader (they argue that I do am not paying enough and that they must walk far distances to do the research...).
One hour later I was satisfied to have caught a ride with the Country Director back to home base in a luxurious air-conditioned vehicle.
Lunch was more bland and tasteless than usual.
I went to another camp, to meet with my other researchers. These guys were amazing, I've only spent a total of 2 hours with them in the last 2 weeks and they are doing everything perfectly. How come these guys (selected by my friend Said and not by the agency staff) can follow directions exactly and everyone else is giving me a nightmare of a time?
Then I left our meeting with a big smile, only to learn that the transport back to home base (DMO) was cancelled for mysterious reasons - a 2 hour walk that I'm not allowed to walk and must have a military police escort under UN rules.
Fortuanately I was able to jump in a pick up truck with Save The Children.
However a bunch of people were stranded and the fine folks at Save had a terrible time trying to arrange to help them, so it took an extra 40 minutes of driving around in a windy, dusty waste land.
And then I looked up and saw a beautiful rainbow arching across the sky.
I am constantly surprised by the continuous polarization of satisfaction and disappointment which seems to permeate every action, every setting, and every intention.
This morning I was thrilled to have caught the last jeep to camp Hagadera.
Upon reaching the camp I was disappointed to learn that the Youth Leader did not follow my directions to choose researchers for me.
I was satisfied with the enthusiasm of the selected youth,
and 10 minutes later I was highly annoyed by their complaints about me to the Youth Leader (they argue that I do am not paying enough and that they must walk far distances to do the research...).
One hour later I was satisfied to have caught a ride with the Country Director back to home base in a luxurious air-conditioned vehicle.
Lunch was more bland and tasteless than usual.
I went to another camp, to meet with my other researchers. These guys were amazing, I've only spent a total of 2 hours with them in the last 2 weeks and they are doing everything perfectly. How come these guys (selected by my friend Said and not by the agency staff) can follow directions exactly and everyone else is giving me a nightmare of a time?
Then I left our meeting with a big smile, only to learn that the transport back to home base (DMO) was cancelled for mysterious reasons - a 2 hour walk that I'm not allowed to walk and must have a military police escort under UN rules.
Fortuanately I was able to jump in a pick up truck with Save The Children.
However a bunch of people were stranded and the fine folks at Save had a terrible time trying to arrange to help them, so it took an extra 40 minutes of driving around in a windy, dusty waste land.
And then I looked up and saw a beautiful rainbow arching across the sky.
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