Radio Silence

So much for last year's resolution to use my free time to post updates. I brainstormed and even drafted I don't know how many posts that never saw the light of day. I was just feeling a bit uninspired it seems. So, no promises for this year, but let's see what happens.

Like I mentioned in my last post I resigned my position at RSC in Jan 2014 in order to take a little break and return to my roots, helping small businesses and nonprofits through resource development, communications, and strategic planning. I relaunched my company, Makusudi Consulting, (as some of you know, I worked as a consultant in 2010 after leaving another position in the region and continued with short-term contracts before joining RSC) and returned to work as a full-time freelance consultant. I've enjoyed setting my own schedule and choosing projects that complement my talents.

Diet cooking is for the birds

In an attempt to lose some of the weight that I've put on traveling over the last 6-8 months I'm back to my standby Scarsdale Diet since apparently having regular bouts of Harvey (my imaginary intestinal worm) hasn't kept off the weight.  While I was hopeful the weight gain and other symptoms could be explained away by a potential thyroid problem I was depressed to learn that, in fact, my thyroid is working perfectly.  Therefore, evidently my weight gain is just a symptom of being in my 30s.

So, back to Scarsdale I go.  Yes, there are some off the wall remarks in the book that one should ignore about women and PMS; keep in mind it WAS written in the '70s.  However, as the overall diet is healthy and simple to stick to in theory, I am going to start the 2 week trial once again since my daily diet of home cooked Indian food is thickening under my belt. I even contemplated buying a cute new apron at Amani ya Juu yesterday to begin the quest.

Today I figured I would start with something simple, like a fresh garden salad.  With no dressing in the house and just me and my clumsy fingers for chopping, I think it's going to be more difficult than it sounds.

What to do in a power outage

Well, first off, get an apartment that has a generator.  Or if you're Curry Delight, invest in a lot of rechargeable battery lamps and candles and let the good times roll.

1. Make sure your laptop battery is charged so even if you can't access the wireless you can plug up your dongle for some internet fun.  Or you can get a couple of hours of movie/tv watching in, depending on how long your computer battery lasts.

2. Keep a fully stocked bar.  Nothing says power outage like drinking a bottle of white wine before it gets warm or having a couple of glasses of scotch on the rocks before the ice melts.

3. If you're already in the shower, pray that your hot water heater pre-heats the tank and isn't heating the water as it comes out the tap. Doing your make up in the mirror by candle light makes you a better person.  Did I mention the perks of a fully stocked bar?

4. Keep a plethora of books on hand.  Flashback to childhood and read under your blanket with a flashlight after lights out. 

5. Order in.  Dinner under the stars is romantic and a much safer option than attempting to cook on the gas top stove in the dark. 

6. Board games!  I've yet to convince anyone to join in the fun with me.  I think my cardboard Kenyan Monopoly doesn't necessarily transcend the cultural divide with Curry Delight.  He just looks at me like I'm crazy when I point out that the backside is also a chess board.  Woo.

7. Tough it out at your favorite bar when the goin gets rough.  Hellllllo, Brew Bistro!

What fun things do you do when the lights go out?  As in good, clean fun, people.

Is it this color that makes me look crazy or what?

Maybe it's the collection of Holocaust and genocide literature littering the coffee table.  Or because when asked for titles for some light airplane reading my list included: Night, Machete Season, and King Leopold's Ghost.  Perhaps it's the fact that I have been known to holiday in death camps and torture centers throughout the world in an ongoing effort to keep the first world better informed about what has and continues to happen outside their bubble.  Or that my roommate and I have a collection of photos of ourselves in front of various human rights sites giving goofy thumbs up poses.  (I should probably explain that we only choose the most appropriate of sites to throw our thumbs up.  We're not celebrating the gas chambers but we do like Eva Peron's tomb.  Because she was cool.  And Schindler's Factory.  You know, because he saved people.) 

Finding Home and the Meaning of (My) Life

Unfortunately, as I've discovered, the answer is not always 42.  I used to think I had everything figured out.  I had a plan and I knew what I wanted to do with my life.  I set goals and accomplished them.  And when I left Kenya a little over a year ago I knew I would stop at nothing to return to the country I felt like was a home away from home.  And I didn't.

However, now I'm listless and floundering and I have all these questions floating around in my head.  Do I stay in Kenya or do I move somewhere else in Africa?  What about another continent?  Or stateside?  I guess there is something to be said for living in the moment but it would be nice to know what it actually is that I do want in the long term.  Maybe it's just the commitment-phobia is rearing its ugly head now that I'm quasi settled somewhere. 

There's no place like somewhere to call home....

So after a long day of waiting my move did not occur once again.  This is becoming the never end saga of my failure to move into my flat.  As recounted in my previous post, I spent the entire weekend waiting and most of Monday until the hotel staff informed me they had someone checking into my room that evening and no other rooms to move me to.  The frantic search to get a hold of someone, anyone in my organization before I get kicked out the hotel ensues.

Fanny packs...what were they thinking?

Is it the new cool travel accessory or the fad that should have stayed dead?  Seriously, I saw not one, not three, but numerous fanny packs while people watching at DFW and LHR.  Fanny packs; for my non-American, non-geeky friends; are belts with an unattractive pouch positioned over ones waist either facing behind, over one's fanny, or forward, on top of or below one's stomach, with the intent of making the bearer's essentials readily available.  It's a travel accessory targeted to geeks the world over.

Don't Panic!

Photo credit: http://pricegroupblog.com/2010/03/dont-panic/

...are words to live by when exploring the outer reaches of the universe as Douglas Adams tells us in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  Apparently it's also sage advice for those traveling through the heart of Africa as well.  AP sources report that two American kayakers maintained level heads while watching in horror as their South African tour guide, Hendri Coetzee, was ripped from his kayak by a large crocodile while paddling down the Lukuga River in the Democratic Republic of Congo.  The experienced outdoorsman is presumed dead but thanks to his number one rule, "nobody panic," his fellow kayakers escaped unharmed.

"You live and learn. At any rate, you live." Douglas Adams

Beware of Imposters!

We all know who the REAL Captain Awesome is, but an Oregon man apparently is unaware of my alter ego.  He legally changed his name to Captain Awesome recently and his signature to: ---> <---.  Really, guy?

Life After the World Cup

Life in Kenya and the mania surrounding the World Cup brought out the very hidden, unknown soccer fanatic in me.  I am certain that I have watched more sports in general and soccer specifically than ever before in my life.  However, now that the World Cup has concluded and Team Orange sadly lost to the Spanish hotties, I'm not sure what to do with all of my free time.  Life before the World Cup is hard to remember so I've come up with this list of suitable replacement activities for how to spend your new found leisure time.

1. Stock up your google reader with an excessive amount of blogs.  My current favorite is Hyperbole and a Half; Allie Brosh is hilarious.  And she likes David Sedaris and Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.  It will suck you in and you then you will look up and realize that you've been reading blogs rather than being productive for hours on end.  Don't say I didn't warn you.

2. Check facebook frequently.  Upload pictures to facebook from the fun times you had watching the World Cup.  Read through your newsfeed to catch up on all the posts your friends made while you were sleeping.  Look to see if any of your friends are online to chat with even though it's 3 am their time and 11 am where you live.  Cyberstalk Alan Tudyk.  

3. Research the next two 25 page papers you have due in a month.  Do this instead of reading blogs and checking facebook.

4. Catch up on correspondence.  Respond to old emails.  Write new ones.  Look to see if any of your friends are on gchat even though it's 3 am their time and 11 am where you live.

5. Work on consulting/volunteer work.  Meet with volunteer agency.  Write proposals.  Be productive in general.  

6. Go to the mall and wander aimlessly, like you're a 15 year old.  Go to another mall and watch Twilight, like you're a 15 year old. 

7. Be touristy.  Visit the giraffes and feed them.  Visit the elephants and adopt one.  Visit the park and play safari. 

8. Write a blog post.  Brainstorm new blog posts.  Look through pictures to see if there is anything entertaining/random you can include in your blog post.  

 You're welcome.

9. Walk a mile to Java.  Sit, read/research, eat, listen to your ipod, stare aimlessly into space, people-watch, walk back.

10. Recruit friends to entertain you. 
      a. Watch numerous bootleg movies.  Brainstorm new movies/tv shows to buy for only 100 KSH. 
      b. Go to dinner/drinks/late night-early morning dance parties at various shady establishments.
      c. Convince them to cook dinner for you in trade for wine and beer.

The Sights and Sounds of Cairo: Arrival and Accostation

The hooting of car horns, the trill of bicycle bells, shouts, and calls to prayer float past the open window I am sitting near in an oversized cushy armchair at my dear friend Brittany's apartment in Cairo.  I arrived in Egypt early Tuesday morning from Nairobi ready to navigate my way to Dokki, armed with directions from Brittany and instructions on how to find a taxi. 

As soon as I walked out of the terminal I was accosted by a swarm of taxi drivers, but being the seasoned negotiator of cab fares thanks to my daily taxi rides in Nairobi I bartered down the prices from 100 Egyptian pounds (LE).  I climbed in the back of the taxi and confirmed with my driver that the price was reasonable.  The driver, Ahmed, was very talkative for 3 AM and once leaving the airport he pulled over to the side of the road and insisted I move to the front so I could chat more easily with him.  Warily I moved up to the front seat since he refused to drive further otherwise.  Red flag number 1: women do not ride in the front of a taxi when unaccompanied and alone.  He kept his friendly demeanor and pointed out tourist sites as we drove through the city.  Red flag number 2: he started asking me what the English word was for parts of his face including his mouth.  As we crossed the Nile he once again pulled the car over under the guise of showing me the river.  It was then the accostation began (accostation: a combination of accost and molestation) and he decided it was appropriate to touch my leg and ask me to kiss him or "give him lip/mouth."  After playing dumb for as long as possible I finally explained politely that I was indeed married (I had been forewarned of Egyptian men's proclivity to hit on western women with the assumption that we are all promiscuous and wore a ring on my left hand just in case). 

Once we finally arrived at Brittany's apartment I went to pay him the agreed upon amount.  Drama ensued.  He feigned no knowledge of our agreement and argued with us for 20 minutes trying to force me to pay 100 LE instead of 40 LE because he claimed he was a "limo" rather than a taxi.  I informed him he was not driving a limo and I wasn't paying him any more than what we agreed upon.  In a very inappropriate un-Egyptian manner he followed us into the apartment building and refused to leave until he received his 100 LE.  Brittany went to get the rest of the money and then he had the audacity to ask for more saying the 100 was for the car and he should get paid more driving me.  Acting very culturally inappropriate we told him in no uncertain terms he was to leave the premises and Britt hurled some bawdy Arabic in his direction and pushed him out the door.  Once in the apartment we could see him stand outside and complain to the guards but fortunately they sent him on his way without causing a larger scene.

Matatus and Pentecostals and goats, oh my!

Sunday was my first introduction to the convenient yet terrifying world of matatus.  Not quite awake and on my way to church I looked death in the face and survived.  

(T) Matatu crammed full of people 

(B) People just walk into oncoming traffic in the street.  A little terrifying to say the least. 

Matatus should hold about 14-20 people, but can be crammed with close to 20-30 strangers in a very confined space (see above).  They drive manically through town cutting people off and nearly plowing into things with little regard for those around them much less those riding in the vehicle.  Think soccer mom minivan plus 20-30 strangers sitting/standing in your personal space while being bounced over potholes and dodging pedestrians at 80 kilometers an hour (approximately 50 mph).  Fortunately for me, it only cost ishirini shillings (about 27 cents) for our thrill ride.  I’m sure in a matter of weeks I will be an old pro at hailing these death cabs, jumping in while it is still in motion without inflicting total disfigurement, and letting them know when I’d like to alight from the vehicle so as not to be forced to ride around town for hours on end. 

Church was the destination of this joyride.  Purity and Esther, Emily’s daughter who was home from college for the weekend, took me to the early “youth” (anyone under the age of 35-40 and not considered an old fogey) service at their church, Nairobi Pentecostal Church- Valley Road.  For those of you who have known me awhile, you will remember that I grew up in an Assembly of God/non-denominational congregation in Plano.  Since I’m not well versed in the varying beliefs of every sect of Christianity I cannot tell you the theological differences between non-denominational and Pentecostal, however this church felt like home (e.g. arm raising and dancing during worship and an invitational at the end of service).  I didn’t even know that people don’t normally shout out “Amen” or “Praise the Lord” in affirmation of the pastor’s message or dance around during the praise and worship at other churches until I brought my boyfriend from college home one weekend and took him to a church service.  It was a comfort to find some familiarity so far away from home.

On the other hand, on the way home from church I saw something completely different from home: Goats!  After a second harrowing journey aboard a matatu I was greeted by these friendly creatures upon disembarking from the minibus.  Sawa, we’ve all seen goats at one point or another, or at the very least tasted some of their yummy cheese at a wine tasting, but how many of you have seen them walking down the street grazing?  That’s what I thought.  The goat walking toward me in the picture on the right was particularly friendly and ventured closer when realizing it was being photographed. 

Later in the day came my introduction to Kenyan weddings.  No, unfortunately I cannot mark #17 off my list, but I did attend a play about Kenyan weddings, “It’s Not about the Bride: The Kenyan Wedding Story.”  Imagine “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” meets Kenya.  It was amusing, well what parts I could understand since about half of it was in Swahili.  Their wedding process is quite a bit different than in the States.  A guy proposes to a girl and some give engagement rings, but they do not typically include a diamond or any stone at all.  Then the guy goes to the girl’s family and offers them a dowry for her.  They barter her value with cows, goats, and chickens.  However, instead of actually giving her parents these animals, the guy’s family pays them what these animals are worth.  Next (insert audible sigh of relief by all parents in Kenya) the engaged couple raises the funds to pay for the wedding themselves.  They form a committee of close, financially stable friends and their friends pledge money to help the couple pay for the event.  The example they used as an outrageous lavish wedding in the play had the couple struggling to come up with about $12,000.  Now, I’ve never been married, but from what I understand, it’s not easy to accomplish even a simple wedding for that amount in Dallas.  I now know where my future wedding to my imaginary husband is going to take place!

Swahili words of the day:

Matatu- minibus

Ishirini- twenty (20)

Sawa- okay

Countdown to departure

Things keeping me sane (or at least busy) until my flight leaves on Thursday:

1. Sprinkles cupcakes from my fabulous friends

Photo credit: http://images.mothertalkers.com/images/user/5/SprinklesCupcakes.jpg

2. Packing 

Photo credit: http://blog.proporta.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/suitcase.jpg

3. Copious amounts of Mexican food
(life without tortillas and salsa is going to be rough)

Photo credit: http://calebjenkins.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/fajitas1.jpg

4. More packing

Photo credit: http://www.babygadget.net/suitcase-couverture.jpg

 

5. Wine, beer, and fun times

Photo credit: Captain Awesome

6. Renewing my drivers license...it's painful, takes forever, and you never look good in your picture.  Needless to say, I'm NOT looking forward to it.

Photo credit: http://www.ipodrepairs.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/dmv.jpg

7. Moving my stuff to my parent's house
(this is really more of a director role, but time-consuming nonetheless)

Photo credit: http://lifeatthebar.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/moving-boxes.jpg

8. Yet still more packing

Photo credit: http://0.tqn.com/d/goeurope/1/5/O/6/packing_5.jpg

9. Attempting to not completely stress out by distracting myself with even more fun RESEARCH for my 75 pages worth of papers due by the end of the semester.

Photo credit: http://kathrynw09.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/stressed-out.jpg

10. Kitty love (when they're not punishing me for moving them into a house with 3 other cats)

Photo credit: Captain Awesome