Showing posts with label New Challenges. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Challenges. Show all posts
Friday, September 9, 2011
[Virtual] Fist Bump
Check me out, I just “built” a new home for The Blog [sorta] all by myself! I will now be blogging at my permanent new home of It’s a Wanderlust Life, come visit! I don’t know how long this nomadic life of ours will last but it was time to find a permanent home for The Blog so as to have one less suitcase to cart around with us. The Blog will grow and travel as we do. And just like our physical house, The Blog will undergo some significant “interior decorating” so expect to see changes each time you come back. The URL here for It’s Kili Time will remain active but no further posting will occur here, so I’m afraid you’ll have to go re-subscribe over there. Come check it out, It’s Phnomenal!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Four Months, Four Continents–Asia (at last!)
We finally made it! It only took ten flights and sleeping in ten different beds over the course of ten weeks to get us into our own house in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Admittedly, we’ve actually been in-country for about 6 weeks now. But I wanted to wait and write until we actually were in our new home which only happened one three weeks ago. And extra bonus, our shipment from Arusha arrived just the other day over a week ago. Say it with me now, ‘EXHAAALLLLLE!!’
Even with boxes and bags still unpacked, it feels great to be in our own home again. We can’t express enough gratitude to the people who have extended us warm hospitality over the past few months, especially our friends here in Phnom Penh who let us crash with them for 3 weeks! Not only did they give us beds, 24-hr a/c and good company, but they also helped us get oriented and settled and made our transition all the more smooth.
After about one week in-country, Millie started the summer program at her pre-school. She didn’t like getting dropped off, but by the time I came back for her three hours later she was all “Mama, who?” Those precious three hours allowed me to check things out around town and start preparing for the move into our new house (which we had settled on by week 1, but was not available until Aug 1). The availability of *things* here is much better than Arusha, and even moreso than Nairobi, so you can imagine how well our savings account is going to fare here. The restaurant options seem endless, as do the croissants, pastries, ice cream and coffees (now you know my priorities). According to some long-term expat residents, Phnom Penh has developed at the speed of light (i.e. five years ago, there was only one ATM in town) and there doesn’t appear to be a slowdown.
Contrary to my over-prepared tendencies, I knew very little about Cambodia before coming here. The only things that I knew about the place, for sure, were Khmer Rouge, its hot and coconut milk. Honestly, I had no idea what lay ahead. While hoarding and gorging back in America, Roger kept saying “I’m sure you’ll be able to get this in Phnom Penh, don’t buy 10 of them!” He was a little more right than I’d like to admit (throws off the relationship equilibrium, right?) but not totally. To be sure, it’s comforting to see so many familiar brands, like Pepperidge Farm, Pantene and Honey Nut Cheerios. But also to see so many exotic and appealing things on the shelves and in the windows as well keeps my brain buzzing and anxious to get out and taste/see/touch!
So far the main exploration we’ve done is the commercial kind – supermarkets, restaurants, furniture stores, cafes, markets, restaurants, indoor play areas, pools and I think we hit up a restaurant or two. We did manage a brief promenade around Wat Phnom where we saw Sambo the Elephant, but our interest was quickly diverted at the site of a colorful playground across the street. But mostly we’ve been busy unpacking and setting up house while simultaneously keeping and active toddler occupied and content.
Pathetically, we haven’t even opened the camera bag since we’ve been here! Thus, no pictures in this post. Hopefully, we can correct that wrong in the coming weeks as we settle into a more predictable routine. But here are some tidbits about our life here:
- We bought a car from an outgoing German diplomat . It’s a Hyundai Santa Fe. But its in the shop now (part of the buying arrangement). Driving here would be considered crazy by US standards, but having lived in Arusha, it’s probably just one notch worse than there. At least in Arusha the road was sort of narrow so there was a limit to how many minibuses, motorcycles and non-motorized things could pass you going the wrong direction. But here there are so many moto’s and tuktuks who don’t even hesitate to drive up the opposing lane of traffic to reach their destination that it can be intimidating. Nevertheless, we’re braving the wild roads and driving ourselves (versus hiring a driver). Everything we could possibly need or stuff our faces with is essentially within a 4 mile radius and I’m pretty comfortable driving that radius, but should we venture out beyond, we might want to pop a Xanax beforehand.
- We moved into a house that can only be described as an Asian Zen McMansion. It’s humbling how big it is (5BR all en suite!) but we’re grateful for the space and unique design. It stood out amongst all the houses we saw which boasted “Western-style” but were laden with heavy wood, dysfunctional layouts and general hideousness. Plus, the house is designed to rely on ceiling fans and air flow to control the temperature, although every bedroom has an a/c unit, which appealed to us because electricity is expensive here. This house not only has a one-of-a-kind design but also is located close to everything, including the shuttle stop for Roger’s bus to work! We live directly behind the Phnom Penh-equivalent of Target. But we also live next door to the Passport Office, so it keeps the street kinda busy and loud during the day (supposedly its relocating next month tho, according to the goss on the street!). We can walk to so many things – supermarkets, ice cream shops, cafes, art galleries, boutiques, the dr’s office, toy store and the trendy artsy street. And so much more if it weren’t for the pesky heat/humidity.
- The Heat. [enter drama queen]. Holy beads of sweat, it’s hot here! Granted, its no worse outside than sticky summer on the East Coast, but I basically function in a constant glowing state and have never taken a warm shower here (I take like 3 cold showers a day). In the house, if you’re not moving a great deal and the fans are on, its comfy. But climb one flight of stairs and you need to reapply your deodorant.
- Croissants, baguettes and coffee are on every single corner and every single one is delicious and seductive.
- Roger likes his job. He has a 1 hr commute each way, but luckily its on an aircon’d bus so I haven’t heard much complainin’. The court here is much smaller than the one in Arusha which I think he appreciates. Nice co-workers, nice boss, nice office, depressing work topic – what more could a guy ask for? Oh, and his office has a/c which basically makes it paradise.
- The currency here is the Riel but most everything is priced in US dollars. I have had a few things quoted to me in riel, but usually its in dollars, esp if its over $2. When something costs $4.50 and you pay with a $5 bill, you will get 2,000 riel in change (bills, no coins here). Or when you want to pay the exact amount, you pay with $4 USD and 2,000 riel.
- The national language is Khmer (pronounced kuh-mai) and we only know how to say ‘hello’ and ‘thank-you'. I am quite intimidated to learn the language…. I have never ventured into the non-phonetic pronunciation realm of languages (except for French, but I basically just speak Spanish with a French accent to get my point across). English is more widely spoken here, as far as I can tell, than it was in Tanzania, but then again we’re in a capital city so that probably has something to do with it. With so much English around, let’s just say it’ll likely be hard to motivate.
As I wrote all this and re-read it, it was just the kick in the rear I needed to have me climb the stairs (sweat), unearth the camera (while sweating), check the battery (sweat bead down my back), descend steps to office in search of battery charger (sweat abating as I enter breeze from fan) and plug in the battery (start running cold water for my 2nd shower of the day). Hopefully, next time you come 'round we'll have pictures to inaugurate a new home for the blog (which, btw, I need serious help setting up.... volunteers??)!
From the month of April until the very first day of July, Millie and I will have had our feet on four different continents in as many months. We start in Europe, return to Africa, pop over to North America and then eventually land in Asia.
Even with boxes and bags still unpacked, it feels great to be in our own home again. We can’t express enough gratitude to the people who have extended us warm hospitality over the past few months, especially our friends here in Phnom Penh who let us crash with them for 3 weeks! Not only did they give us beds, 24-hr a/c and good company, but they also helped us get oriented and settled and made our transition all the more smooth.
After about one week in-country, Millie started the summer program at her pre-school. She didn’t like getting dropped off, but by the time I came back for her three hours later she was all “Mama, who?” Those precious three hours allowed me to check things out around town and start preparing for the move into our new house (which we had settled on by week 1, but was not available until Aug 1). The availability of *things* here is much better than Arusha, and even moreso than Nairobi, so you can imagine how well our savings account is going to fare here. The restaurant options seem endless, as do the croissants, pastries, ice cream and coffees (now you know my priorities). According to some long-term expat residents, Phnom Penh has developed at the speed of light (i.e. five years ago, there was only one ATM in town) and there doesn’t appear to be a slowdown.
Contrary to my over-prepared tendencies, I knew very little about Cambodia before coming here. The only things that I knew about the place, for sure, were Khmer Rouge, its hot and coconut milk. Honestly, I had no idea what lay ahead. While hoarding and gorging back in America, Roger kept saying “I’m sure you’ll be able to get this in Phnom Penh, don’t buy 10 of them!” He was a little more right than I’d like to admit (throws off the relationship equilibrium, right?) but not totally. To be sure, it’s comforting to see so many familiar brands, like Pepperidge Farm, Pantene and Honey Nut Cheerios. But also to see so many exotic and appealing things on the shelves and in the windows as well keeps my brain buzzing and anxious to get out and taste/see/touch!
So far the main exploration we’ve done is the commercial kind – supermarkets, restaurants, furniture stores, cafes, markets, restaurants, indoor play areas, pools and I think we hit up a restaurant or two. We did manage a brief promenade around Wat Phnom where we saw Sambo the Elephant, but our interest was quickly diverted at the site of a colorful playground across the street. But mostly we’ve been busy unpacking and setting up house while simultaneously keeping and active toddler occupied and content.
Pathetically, we haven’t even opened the camera bag since we’ve been here! Thus, no pictures in this post. Hopefully, we can correct that wrong in the coming weeks as we settle into a more predictable routine. But here are some tidbits about our life here:
- We bought a car from an outgoing German diplomat . It’s a Hyundai Santa Fe. But its in the shop now (part of the buying arrangement). Driving here would be considered crazy by US standards, but having lived in Arusha, it’s probably just one notch worse than there. At least in Arusha the road was sort of narrow so there was a limit to how many minibuses, motorcycles and non-motorized things could pass you going the wrong direction. But here there are so many moto’s and tuktuks who don’t even hesitate to drive up the opposing lane of traffic to reach their destination that it can be intimidating. Nevertheless, we’re braving the wild roads and driving ourselves (versus hiring a driver). Everything we could possibly need or stuff our faces with is essentially within a 4 mile radius and I’m pretty comfortable driving that radius, but should we venture out beyond, we might want to pop a Xanax beforehand.
- We moved into a house that can only be described as an Asian Zen McMansion. It’s humbling how big it is (5BR all en suite!) but we’re grateful for the space and unique design. It stood out amongst all the houses we saw which boasted “Western-style” but were laden with heavy wood, dysfunctional layouts and general hideousness. Plus, the house is designed to rely on ceiling fans and air flow to control the temperature, although every bedroom has an a/c unit, which appealed to us because electricity is expensive here. This house not only has a one-of-a-kind design but also is located close to everything, including the shuttle stop for Roger’s bus to work! We live directly behind the Phnom Penh-equivalent of Target. But we also live next door to the Passport Office, so it keeps the street kinda busy and loud during the day (supposedly its relocating next month tho, according to the goss on the street!). We can walk to so many things – supermarkets, ice cream shops, cafes, art galleries, boutiques, the dr’s office, toy store and the trendy artsy street. And so much more if it weren’t for the pesky heat/humidity.
- The Heat. [enter drama queen]. Holy beads of sweat, it’s hot here! Granted, its no worse outside than sticky summer on the East Coast, but I basically function in a constant glowing state and have never taken a warm shower here (I take like 3 cold showers a day). In the house, if you’re not moving a great deal and the fans are on, its comfy. But climb one flight of stairs and you need to reapply your deodorant.
- Croissants, baguettes and coffee are on every single corner and every single one is delicious and seductive.
- Roger likes his job. He has a 1 hr commute each way, but luckily its on an aircon’d bus so I haven’t heard much complainin’. The court here is much smaller than the one in Arusha which I think he appreciates. Nice co-workers, nice boss, nice office, depressing work topic – what more could a guy ask for? Oh, and his office has a/c which basically makes it paradise.
- The currency here is the Riel but most everything is priced in US dollars. I have had a few things quoted to me in riel, but usually its in dollars, esp if its over $2. When something costs $4.50 and you pay with a $5 bill, you will get 2,000 riel in change (bills, no coins here). Or when you want to pay the exact amount, you pay with $4 USD and 2,000 riel.
- The national language is Khmer (pronounced kuh-mai) and we only know how to say ‘hello’ and ‘thank-you'. I am quite intimidated to learn the language…. I have never ventured into the non-phonetic pronunciation realm of languages (except for French, but I basically just speak Spanish with a French accent to get my point across). English is more widely spoken here, as far as I can tell, than it was in Tanzania, but then again we’re in a capital city so that probably has something to do with it. With so much English around, let’s just say it’ll likely be hard to motivate.
As I wrote all this and re-read it, it was just the kick in the rear I needed to have me climb the stairs (sweat), unearth the camera (while sweating), check the battery (sweat bead down my back), descend steps to office in search of battery charger (sweat abating as I enter breeze from fan) and plug in the battery (start running cold water for my 2nd shower of the day). Hopefully, next time you come 'round we'll have pictures to inaugurate a new home for the blog (which, btw, I need serious help setting up.... volunteers??)!
From the month of April until the very first day of July, Millie and I will have had our feet on four different continents in as many months. We start in Europe, return to Africa, pop over to North America and then eventually land in Asia.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Four Months, Four Continents - Good to be in America
After the last box was sealed shut, we began our 30 hour trek back to America via Mombassa, Kenya, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, Rome, Italy, Washington, DC and ultimately landing in Denver a mere 30 hours later. Prior to any trip to the US, we began our preparations with the usual rigorous regime of excessive online shopping. In addition to being greeted by Grandma and Grandpa, our welcome home party was also attended by at least a dozen boxes who all flew in just for our arrive from remote corners of cyberspace.
Despite being American and having spent the greater share of our lives in the US, when living overseas (esp in developing countries) America can feel like an impossibly distant star that shines upon you but is reachable only via long flights or small corners of suitcases belonging to incoming house guests. Endless choices of cereals, walk able sidewalks, quinoa (not just plain white rice) and swift download speeds all shimmer in my mind of what's great about America. So it was with some consternation that as I deplaned on US soil, that I dragged a little suitcase behind me filled with self-righteousness.
You see, I had just finished reading Omnivore's Dilemma, the book that tells you to stop and consider where your Big Mac and free range chicken has come from before you take one more bite. I had avoided that book for a long time because I didn't want to *really* know the truth about where my food comes from [not to mention that whole little bit of having previously been employed by the US agriculture sector....]. But with all my food blog and culinary trend reading increasingly pointing me towards eating locally and seasonally, I figured I should find out what the whole mess is about so I could talk like a native and not stick out like a sore thumb once back in America.
Like many who came before me, the book really affected my taste buds. I started looking at the gloriously well stocked shelves in a whole new light (i.e. as corn stalks). Every bite of the sweet crispy Cool Ranch Dorito became less and less satisfying. Where were my freshly picked bunches of arugula that I'd grown to love in Arusha? Where was my fresh off the griddle chappati? If the yogurt wasn't homemade, it wasn't worthy of my Honey Nut Cheerios. I was actually employing self-control in the food department without even being beholden to the likes of Weight Watchers or South Beach, I couldn't believe it! Check me out and my soda water with a twist of lime drinkin' self!
Aaaannnnnddd, scene!
That little self-congratulatory episode lasted even less time than those 428 pages took to read. It was impressive. I wish I could point to that one turnaround moment or bite of food that told me I was fooling myself. It was probably the subconscious realization that our time in America would end a few weeks later and I'd be heading to another developing country (albeit one with an AMAZING food scene) thus I must hoard and squeeze every last ounce of enjoyment out of my Utz Sour Cream and Onion chips and corn-fed strip loin
Hoard and Gorge.... sounds like the making of a TLC reality show - how expats make the most of their home leave back in America. And we should definitely star in the pilot episode. Notwithstanding the negative connotations of those terms, hoard and gorge ourselves we did - on food, stuff, adventures and in particular, people!
In five weeks, we packed it in like a Metro train at rush hour. Saw family in three major cities. Attended a glorious wedding which reunited me with all my best college galpals. Fulfilled a lifelong dream of visiting the Grand Canyon. Explored new (to me and Millie) parts of the U.S. (Utah). Went to a family reunion with ALLLL the cousins (and met some new ones too!). Cashed in (out?) on some good sales. Ate delicious cheese, beef, cherries, peaches and ice cream. Took Millie to her first IMAX movie (my longtime favorite, To Fly) at the National Air & Space Museum. Relived our love for DC by hoofing it around town during an unseasonably cool day while pushing a snoozing Millie in the stroller. Drove in awe through the Rockies and starred in amazement at the 5 ft snow drifts along Vail Pass at the beginning of June. And felt so blessed by the good fortune of our friendships, our families, our surroundings, our lifestyle and our nationality.
It always ends too quickly, but after five weeks of hopping around America we were ready to take off for Cambodia. The curiosity and anticipation of what lie ahead in the Far East was growing and growing and we were eager to see what lie ahead for us. Ironically, I didn't do much research into the history and/or current state of our future home. We had Foreign Service friends already posted there with young kids who had put Phnom Penh as their top choice, so that was all I really needed to know it was a good family post. Plus the allure of Southeast Asian cuisine and travel opportunities was enough to keep my panic and anxieties it had in store. All that was left was one more 24 hour transoceanic flight, and we'd finally be reaching our new home.....
From the month of April until the very first day of July, Millie and I will have had our feet on four different continents in as many months. We start in Europe, return to Africa, pop over to North America and then eventually land in Asia.
Despite being American and having spent the greater share of our lives in the US, when living overseas (esp in developing countries) America can feel like an impossibly distant star that shines upon you but is reachable only via long flights or small corners of suitcases belonging to incoming house guests. Endless choices of cereals, walk able sidewalks, quinoa (not just plain white rice) and swift download speeds all shimmer in my mind of what's great about America. So it was with some consternation that as I deplaned on US soil, that I dragged a little suitcase behind me filled with self-righteousness.
You see, I had just finished reading Omnivore's Dilemma, the book that tells you to stop and consider where your Big Mac and free range chicken has come from before you take one more bite. I had avoided that book for a long time because I didn't want to *really* know the truth about where my food comes from [not to mention that whole little bit of having previously been employed by the US agriculture sector....]. But with all my food blog and culinary trend reading increasingly pointing me towards eating locally and seasonally, I figured I should find out what the whole mess is about so I could talk like a native and not stick out like a sore thumb once back in America.Like many who came before me, the book really affected my taste buds. I started looking at the gloriously well stocked shelves in a whole new light (i.e. as corn stalks). Every bite of the sweet crispy Cool Ranch Dorito became less and less satisfying. Where were my freshly picked bunches of arugula that I'd grown to love in Arusha? Where was my fresh off the griddle chappati? If the yogurt wasn't homemade, it wasn't worthy of my Honey Nut Cheerios. I was actually employing self-control in the food department without even being beholden to the likes of Weight Watchers or South Beach, I couldn't believe it! Check me out and my soda water with a twist of lime drinkin' self!
Aaaannnnnddd, scene!
That little self-congratulatory episode lasted even less time than those 428 pages took to read. It was impressive. I wish I could point to that one turnaround moment or bite of food that told me I was fooling myself. It was probably the subconscious realization that our time in America would end a few weeks later and I'd be heading to another developing country (albeit one with an AMAZING food scene) thus I must hoard and squeeze every last ounce of enjoyment out of my Utz Sour Cream and Onion chips and corn-fed strip loinHoard and Gorge.... sounds like the making of a TLC reality show - how expats make the most of their home leave back in America. And we should definitely star in the pilot episode. Notwithstanding the negative connotations of those terms, hoard and gorge ourselves we did - on food, stuff, adventures and in particular, people!
In five weeks, we packed it in like a Metro train at rush hour. Saw family in three major cities. Attended a glorious wedding which reunited me with all my best college galpals. Fulfilled a lifelong dream of visiting the Grand Canyon. Explored new (to me and Millie) parts of the U.S. (Utah). Went to a family reunion with ALLLL the cousins (and met some new ones too!). Cashed in (out?) on some good sales. Ate delicious cheese, beef, cherries, peaches and ice cream. Took Millie to her first IMAX movie (my longtime favorite, To Fly) at the National Air & Space Museum. Relived our love for DC by hoofing it around town during an unseasonably cool day while pushing a snoozing Millie in the stroller. Drove in awe through the Rockies and starred in amazement at the 5 ft snow drifts along Vail Pass at the beginning of June. And felt so blessed by the good fortune of our friendships, our families, our surroundings, our lifestyle and our nationality. It always ends too quickly, but after five weeks of hopping around America we were ready to take off for Cambodia. The curiosity and anticipation of what lie ahead in the Far East was growing and growing and we were eager to see what lie ahead for us. Ironically, I didn't do much research into the history and/or current state of our future home. We had Foreign Service friends already posted there with young kids who had put Phnom Penh as their top choice, so that was all I really needed to know it was a good family post. Plus the allure of Southeast Asian cuisine and travel opportunities was enough to keep my panic and anxieties it had in store. All that was left was one more 24 hour transoceanic flight, and we'd finally be reaching our new home.....
From the month of April until the very first day of July, Millie and I will have had our feet on four different continents in as many months. We start in Europe, return to Africa, pop over to North America and then eventually land in Asia.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Four Months, Four Continents–Back to Africa
We got back to Arusha with no problems (Millie slept the entire flight home!!! And I foolishly stayed awake the whole time on the overnight flight just so I could enjoy TWO movies in peace). As soon as our suitcases were unpacked, I started preparing to pack them up again (along with 14 boxes) for our departure from Tanzania four weeks later.
Its amazing how quickly a change like moving can sneak up on you. Just as you’re going about your day, buying veggies at the Arusha-version of a farmer’s market, annoyed by the ignoramus drivers on the road and the always-out-of-money ATM, and you get call that says “say good bye to all those nice people you have gotten to know the past two years and essentially the only world your daughter has ever known, you’re going to Cambodia.” You’re 10 parts thrilled, 10 parts sad and 20 parts overwhelmed over what will transpire in the coming weeks. This was the case for me.
I felt more than content with all the remarkable people we’d met in Arusha who’s paths had fortunately intersected with ours. I loved that I was able to climb Mt. Meru after having it stare me down on a daily basis as I went about my business. I felt gratified that what was a leap of faith for our new family turned into such a professionally and personally gratifying experience. I felt triumphant that I had simultaneously stumbled through new motherhood while also navigating life on a new continent. I felt satiated by having seen so many animals in the wild and gorgeous countryside. And lest I forget, it was a blessing beyond words to have so much help at home.
But I can’t deny that at times I found life in Arusha to be annoying and that I longed for one of those Staples "Easy" buttons to push. And during those difficult times, I longed for the simplicity and intuitiveness of America. Why couldn't the store just have the things I needed when I needed them? Why did "maybe next week" really mean, "I have no idea" and that they didn't just say that in the first place? While hiking in the Grand Canyon (during our recent home leave), Roger asked me ‘what do you love about America so much?’ I told him it boiled down to, when I’m here, I feel powerful. Everything makes sense, I know my way around, I speak the language and I know the written and unwritten rules. In Tanzania, it was the opposite. Naturally, it was unrealistic of me to expect to feel as comfy in Tanzania after two years as I do after thirty odd years in my native America. But I guess as you get older (esp when toting around a little one), being able to predict and deftly navigate your surroundings becomes as essential to you as your daily venti latte.
In the midst of a major transition for our family, I feel compelled to wax philosophical about the expat lifestyle and longing for home. But no matter how I dissected it, I continually reached the same conclusion – no matter where you are, the grass is always greener in other pastures. I will appreciate all that Arusha had, and that I surely took for granted, once I am sweating buckets in Phnom Penh. And undoubtedly I will wish for an Easy button while we’re there as well.
Our last month in Arusha was a roller coaster. We got out to the bush one more time (for Mother’s Day) and we had good times with the good people we’d been fortunate to meet. We even sent ourselves off in true Tanzanian style with a whole roasted goat at our farewell party (which I think gave many children nightmares)! But there were a lot of difficult goodbye’s and a lot of packing. I started seeing Arusha in a different and more positive light. I understood why people relocated there for good, opting to raise their families surrounded by the bush and slower pace of life.
Other philosophical sentiments that moving ignites is regret and living simply. Why is it that in the day-to-day course of straightening up I can look at a heart-shaped coin purse and think “this may come in handy one day, better save it” but then toss it in the giveaway/trash pile the moment we decide to move? How do I get my brain hard wired to critically examine every trinket and tchotchke at the moment of confrontation and either put it to use or make it someone else’s treasure? You’d think a lifestyle based on relocating every two years would have given me some skills in this department, but sadly, no. Nevertheless, even three hours before the taxi picked us up, I was unloading a suitcase full of STUFF on the staff.
And lest we forget our good pal, regret: Wishing I had made it to Serengeti. Wishing I’d explored more of our corner of the continent. Wishing I’d been more adventurous and less nervous. Wishing I’d mastered Swahili and engaged more in local life. Of course, it just always felt as though there would be time for those things once I [enter every excuse in the book]. I suppose moving every few years like this should drive home the prescient wisdom of just doing it.
Farewell Arusha (yes, 6 weeks later)! Thank you for welcoming us, being such a wonderful home for our new family and creating so many friendships. Tutuonana badaye (see each other again)!
From the month of April until the very first day of July, Millie and I will have had our feet on four different continents in as many months. We start in Europe, return to Africa, pop over to North America and then eventually land in Asia.
Its amazing how quickly a change like moving can sneak up on you. Just as you’re going about your day, buying veggies at the Arusha-version of a farmer’s market, annoyed by the ignoramus drivers on the road and the always-out-of-money ATM, and you get call that says “say good bye to all those nice people you have gotten to know the past two years and essentially the only world your daughter has ever known, you’re going to Cambodia.” You’re 10 parts thrilled, 10 parts sad and 20 parts overwhelmed over what will transpire in the coming weeks. This was the case for me.
I felt more than content with all the remarkable people we’d met in Arusha who’s paths had fortunately intersected with ours. I loved that I was able to climb Mt. Meru after having it stare me down on a daily basis as I went about my business. I felt gratified that what was a leap of faith for our new family turned into such a professionally and personally gratifying experience. I felt triumphant that I had simultaneously stumbled through new motherhood while also navigating life on a new continent. I felt satiated by having seen so many animals in the wild and gorgeous countryside. And lest I forget, it was a blessing beyond words to have so much help at home.
But I can’t deny that at times I found life in Arusha to be annoying and that I longed for one of those Staples "Easy" buttons to push. And during those difficult times, I longed for the simplicity and intuitiveness of America. Why couldn't the store just have the things I needed when I needed them? Why did "maybe next week" really mean, "I have no idea" and that they didn't just say that in the first place? While hiking in the Grand Canyon (during our recent home leave), Roger asked me ‘what do you love about America so much?’ I told him it boiled down to, when I’m here, I feel powerful. Everything makes sense, I know my way around, I speak the language and I know the written and unwritten rules. In Tanzania, it was the opposite. Naturally, it was unrealistic of me to expect to feel as comfy in Tanzania after two years as I do after thirty odd years in my native America. But I guess as you get older (esp when toting around a little one), being able to predict and deftly navigate your surroundings becomes as essential to you as your daily venti latte.
In the midst of a major transition for our family, I feel compelled to wax philosophical about the expat lifestyle and longing for home. But no matter how I dissected it, I continually reached the same conclusion – no matter where you are, the grass is always greener in other pastures. I will appreciate all that Arusha had, and that I surely took for granted, once I am sweating buckets in Phnom Penh. And undoubtedly I will wish for an Easy button while we’re there as well.
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| Walking safari in Great Rift Valley, with our Colorado friends |
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| The farewell goat! |
And lest we forget our good pal, regret: Wishing I had made it to Serengeti. Wishing I’d explored more of our corner of the continent. Wishing I’d been more adventurous and less nervous. Wishing I’d mastered Swahili and engaged more in local life. Of course, it just always felt as though there would be time for those things once I [enter every excuse in the book]. I suppose moving every few years like this should drive home the prescient wisdom of just doing it.
Farewell Arusha (yes, 6 weeks later)! Thank you for welcoming us, being such a wonderful home for our new family and creating so many friendships. Tutuonana badaye (see each other again)!
From the month of April until the very first day of July, Millie and I will have had our feet on four different continents in as many months. We start in Europe, return to Africa, pop over to North America and then eventually land in Asia.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Four Months, Four Continents –Europe
Long before we got word that life would next take us to Cambodia, I got an itch to explore beyond the African continent. Roger was gearing up for another round of long days, nights and weekends at work in order to finish the judgment so I figured if we weren’t going to see him, might as well see some new sights. As I romantically described my aspirations to eat my way through Paris to our upstairs neighbor, who is German, she suggested I go for it because she would be in her hometown of Freiburg, Germany for the whole month of April with her 1 year old daughter and had a small (200 sq ft) but comfortable flat I could stay in with Millie. Didn’t take much convincing after that.
In mid-April Millie and I set off for Germany. We stayed for two weeks with a quick 4 day trip in the middle to Paris to satisfy my gastronomic curiosities. Freiburg was a great place to visit with a 2 year old. It reminded me a lot of Boulder, CO, but with cobblestones. Lots of people cycling and walking, sunny, a long pedestrian mall but with the added bonus of soft-pretzels for sale on every corner. Most days started with breakfast at home, an early departure into town center in search of coffee and the days soft-pretzel ration, a few hours at the AWESOME playgrounds and then for a long walk around town with the cobblestones lulling Millie into a sleep long enough for me to steal away into a store or two to enjoy some European spoils. We would meet up with our friend and neighbor, Melanie, for visits into the Black Forest (Freiburg is the gateway into the Black Forest), sampling of schnitzels and hefeweizens and celebrating the schpagel season (white asparagus, served, no joke, with white boiled potatoes). Sleep, repeat.
In the midst of all that excitement in Germany, we hopped a train for Paris where I had reserved another 200 sq ft flat for us in the tony Marais district. We arrived at the height of tourist season as well as the first vestiges of spring so EVERYONE and their mama’s were out on the streets of Paris making lines at the museums too long for a two year old. It didn’t matter to us. The pulse of Paris was happening on the narrow streets and that’s where we were gonna be! Truth be told, it was overwhelming at the beginning. So many cafes! So many shops! So many pastries! So many cheeses! Where do I start?
Armed with my gastronomic hopes and dreams of Paris as well as a toddler, I would have to make very strategic decisions about where we would dine and indulge. If a cup of coffee is going to cost me $7.50 (I wish I was joking), I couldn’t be trial and error’ing my way around the patisseries and cafes. After a $45 lunch consisting of a delicious, buttery steak and bottle of Evian water for me and plain pasta with chopped up hot dog on it for Millie, I regrouped and attacked the food scene from a different angle. That night we did the most Parisian thing of all – we foraged around our neighborhood for meat, cheese, bread, fruit and snacks.
Then we hauled our treasure up the four story walk-up (yes, four stories, every day, sometimes 2x/day, with a 30lb toddler in one arm…. despite the unavoidable stair workout, the buttery croissants won out on my waistline!) Of all places (Paris!), Millie was in a non-eating mood and didn’t help me one bit to polish off our treasure, save for a couple grapes. We dined on the floor, picnic style, since there was no dining table and I went to sleep with a very content belly.
We hit all the major tourist sites – Notre Dame, Eiffel Tower, the Louvre – but didn’t enter any of them due to long lines and expensive entrance fees. My favorite way of experiencing any city, like Paris, is just to walk and look at the people, see what their wearing, how they interact, how they go about their days and get a sense of what makes the place tick. Its probably what drove me into such a voyeuristic major in college – anthropology!Other than helping me store up fat for the Arusha winter we’d be returning to, it was also a good orientation for Millie to the wild and crazy transition she was about to embark on in the next 3 months. She became a pro at sleeping in the stroller, taking various modes of transport and most importantly, sleeping on long plane rides. Europe was only a morsel of what she was about to experience.
From the month of April until the very first day of July, Millie and I will have had our feet on four different continents in as many months. We start in Europe, return to Africa, pop over to North America and then eventually land in Asia.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Still here, just not there anymore!
Since I was in no position to sit down and concentrate on blogging in our last days in Arusha, I took to composing an upcoming series called 'Four Months, Four Continents' as we drove 2000 miles around the American West. In April, Millie and I took a little trip up to Europe while Roger hunkered down to meet a deadline. Thus began our journey of hitting four different continents in the course of four months (April - Europe, May - Africa, June - North)America, July - Asia). So stay tuned for the upcoming series!
Furthermore, you will soon see some changes to the blog as I migrate it to a new home that reflects the changes going on in our life as well as a desire on my part to have a more permanent footing in the blogosphere.
Photo by Patrick Q, Creative Commons License via Flickr
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Running Amok
The weekend began with Prince William's wedding. His big day was eclipsed by the birth of Mariah Carey's twins. Then we moved on from Mariah when some dude in Pakistan was killed. But now, perhaps you'd like to turn your attention to this piece of breaking news: We are moving to Phnom Penh, Cambodia!
I realize that for family, emailee's and Facebook friends, this is old news. But for the handful of followers who I only *know* via this blog, this is for you. After May 25th, it will no longer be Kili Time around here. Instead, we will be running amok in Cambodia.
After I typed the phrase "running amok" I decided to google it and found out that its origin is actually in SE Asia but is typically used to suggest a murderous rampage. Hmm, wow. Not what I was going for exactly. In my book, "running amok" is a 2 yr old at about 5 o'clock in the afternoon while you're trying to dice some carrots (with a sharp knife) in one hand and also make penguin shapes with Play-Doh in the other hand. Its the perfect moment of crazy that is only abated with large swigs of Kilimanjaro beer.
And its in that spirit that I use the phrase as it will characterize our life for the next 2 - 3 months! But ever more importantly, fish amok is one of the national dishes of Cambodia. It's a curry that is steamed in a banana leaf cup. Mmm, seconds please!
It's a very bittersweet time for us right now as we begin the arduous packing process and the even more arduous goodbyes process. Arusha has been good to us, no doubt. But likewise, we're excited for this next chapter. Surely this won't be all I have to say on the matter. I'll definitely be delving into some waxing nostalgic and maybe even a top ten list or two (note: this may not happen until we're settled in PP as packing will be king around here). For the time being, just wanted to get the word out in case you start hearing me talk about pad thai and "hotter than Hades" and wonder what happened to all the lions and that big snow-capped mountain.
p.s. like how I used People magazine to report on all the major headlines of the past 72 hours? Its just how I roll.
Angkor Wat photo courtesy of gumuz on Flickr
Fish Amok photo courtesy of my future watering hole, Cambodia Cooking Class
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| The Temples at Angkor Wat |
After I typed the phrase "running amok" I decided to google it and found out that its origin is actually in SE Asia but is typically used to suggest a murderous rampage. Hmm, wow. Not what I was going for exactly. In my book, "running amok" is a 2 yr old at about 5 o'clock in the afternoon while you're trying to dice some carrots (with a sharp knife) in one hand and also make penguin shapes with Play-Doh in the other hand. Its the perfect moment of crazy that is only abated with large swigs of Kilimanjaro beer.
 |
| Fish Amok |
It's a very bittersweet time for us right now as we begin the arduous packing process and the even more arduous goodbyes process. Arusha has been good to us, no doubt. But likewise, we're excited for this next chapter. Surely this won't be all I have to say on the matter. I'll definitely be delving into some waxing nostalgic and maybe even a top ten list or two (note: this may not happen until we're settled in PP as packing will be king around here). For the time being, just wanted to get the word out in case you start hearing me talk about pad thai and "hotter than Hades" and wonder what happened to all the lions and that big snow-capped mountain.
p.s. like how I used People magazine to report on all the major headlines of the past 72 hours? Its just how I roll.
Angkor Wat photo courtesy of gumuz on Flickr
Fish Amok photo courtesy of my future watering hole, Cambodia Cooking Class
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
March (Travel) Madness: Mt. Meru
I think I have probably mentioned one or a hundred times the lack of rain around here. All my complaining managed to catch up with me the one weekend I decided to be outdoors-y girl and drag my rear up the 15,000 ft mountain just outside of 
Arusha - Mt. Meru. It all started innocently enough with a moderate drizzle that kept us cool on day one as we ascended the first 3,300 ft over the course of 8.7 miles. Most of us were more preoccupied by the burgeoning blisters on our heels, guiltless-ly consuming all the chocolate in our packs and praying to the gods that
Melanie's shoe* would make it to the first camp. And by the time we reached the first camp at 8,250 ft, the damp clothes felt good against the cool breeze. Equally convenient was not only the full moon weekend we'd chosen, but a SUPER moon no less.
Day 2 had us climbing the same amount of elevation as day 1 (3,450 ft) but over 1/2 the distance (3 miles). The day started with a heavy fog and light mist. Within 30 minutes of hiking, the faucet was open even further and we were drenched by the time we reached camp 2 (3.5 hours later, 11,700 ft). Again, feeling pretty bad ass, we didn't let the rain get us down. We'd made decent time considering the entire hike involved climb steps. Once changed into the last vestiges of dry clothes, we were happy campers again and the world smiled with us
by bringing out the sun. After lunch, we opted to climb Little Meru (12,533 ft) which was about a 45 min hike from the camp and was possibly our only chance to summit anything AND have a view of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Being the outdoors-y warrior that I am, I single-handedlyfought off the rain gods by wearing long johns under my rain pants, plastic bags over my socks and a rain jacket over my thermal top. The sun stayed out and I was drenched in sweat (badge of honor forthcoming). After dinner, it was early to bed as we'd be rising at midnight to start our climb to the summit.
Again, the cosmos smiled down on us and we departed camp 2 with a clear sky and full moon bright enough to illuminate our path without headlamps - if that doesn't put a spring in your weary step, I don't know what will! Nevertheless, our weather-luck ran out quickly and the clouds quickly flew in. They managed to hold on to their precipitation for the first 4 hours or so, but then the higher we climbed and neared the summit, it started to snow. Yeah, I was pretty cold and tired by this point, but snow! In Africa! Cool! It had been two years since I'd seen any of the white stuff so I managed to feign an enthusiastic grunt for the guide every time he checked on me. Then, finally, 6 hours after having set off, we scrambled up some rocks and arrived at the summit (14,980ft) and were treated to an absolute white out. The sun had risen, but you couldn't tell. Mt. Kilimanjaro was out in the distance and we could barely see 30 ft in front of us. I was cold, filled with pride and accomplishment and ready to get the &^%$ off the summit and back to the land of hot chocolate.
We only spent about 20 min on the summit and then down we went. The snow was letting up and we could see green slopes down below - surely the more we descend, the better the weather will be! LMAO!!!! (translation for the parents: laughing my ass off). It was certainly exciting to see snow after a 2 yr absence, but hail? Sleet? Not so fun, especially when you're 14,000 ft in the air, 30 miles from home and 15 hours (if all goes well) from embracing your family. I won't lie, panic fueled my walk back. Screw the trail mix and frozen chocolate bars in my bag, get me off this mountain. Four hours of small but consistent hail accompanied us across loose sand/ash, narrow mountain saddles and forty-five degree angle lava flows that had to be scaled (hi mom!) until we reached a safe point and could finish our descent in peace.
Suffice to say, we made it with puddles in our boots and morale still mostly intact (two of the women said immediately after getting to the safe point 'I definitely want to do this again!' I was not one of the two). Mt. Meru looms over us in Arusha every day and there's hardly a spot in the city in which you cannot see it (provided its not hidden in the clouds). Admittedly, its quite gratifying to have conquered it. I can't help but feel a tickle of pride every time it shows up in my peripheral vision or looms ahead of me as I approach the house.
Roger has also climbed Mt. Meru but with optimal weather (things like sun!). So he may have the whole I-write-judgments-against-perpetrators-of-the-Rwandan-genocide-and-what-do-you-do thing going on, but I summited Mt. Meru in the snow!
*Our co-climber, Melanie (also my upstairs neighbor), had some very bad luck with her boots about 15 min into the hike. The sole of her boot completely detached from the boot. Some blister tape and borrowing gaiters from the guide seemed to do the trick. About 30 min later, the sole of her other boot did the same thing. Same remedy. When we got to camp 1, a porter sewed the soles back on and used duct tape to “weather-proof” them! And they survived!
***********************************************************************************
Had there been no adverse weather, it might have looked more like this (from Roger's summit in Nov 2009):
Arusha - Mt. Meru. It all started innocently enough with a moderate drizzle that kept us cool on day one as we ascended the first 3,300 ft over the course of 8.7 miles. Most of us were more preoccupied by the burgeoning blisters on our heels, guiltless-ly consuming all the chocolate in our packs and praying to the gods that
Melanie's shoe* would make it to the first camp. And by the time we reached the first camp at 8,250 ft, the damp clothes felt good against the cool breeze. Equally convenient was not only the full moon weekend we'd chosen, but a SUPER moon no less.Day 2 had us climbing the same amount of elevation as day 1 (3,450 ft) but over 1/2 the distance (3 miles). The day started with a heavy fog and light mist. Within 30 minutes of hiking, the faucet was open even further and we were drenched by the time we reached camp 2 (3.5 hours later, 11,700 ft). Again, feeling pretty bad ass, we didn't let the rain get us down. We'd made decent time considering the entire hike involved climb steps. Once changed into the last vestiges of dry clothes, we were happy campers again and the world smiled with us
by bringing out the sun. After lunch, we opted to climb Little Meru (12,533 ft) which was about a 45 min hike from the camp and was possibly our only chance to summit anything AND have a view of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Being the outdoors-y warrior that I am, I single-handedlyfought off the rain gods by wearing long johns under my rain pants, plastic bags over my socks and a rain jacket over my thermal top. The sun stayed out and I was drenched in sweat (badge of honor forthcoming). After dinner, it was early to bed as we'd be rising at midnight to start our climb to the summit. 
Again, the cosmos smiled down on us and we departed camp 2 with a clear sky and full moon bright enough to illuminate our path without headlamps - if that doesn't put a spring in your weary step, I don't know what will! Nevertheless, our weather-luck ran out quickly and the clouds quickly flew in. They managed to hold on to their precipitation for the first 4 hours or so, but then the higher we climbed and neared the summit, it started to snow. Yeah, I was pretty cold and tired by this point, but snow! In Africa! Cool! It had been two years since I'd seen any of the white stuff so I managed to feign an enthusiastic grunt for the guide every time he checked on me. Then, finally, 6 hours after having set off, we scrambled up some rocks and arrived at the summit (14,980ft) and were treated to an absolute white out. The sun had risen, but you couldn't tell. Mt. Kilimanjaro was out in the distance and we could barely see 30 ft in front of us. I was cold, filled with pride and accomplishment and ready to get the &^%$ off the summit and back to the land of hot chocolate. 
We only spent about 20 min on the summit and then down we went. The snow was letting up and we could see green slopes down below - surely the more we descend, the better the weather will be! LMAO!!!! (translation for the parents: laughing my ass off). It was certainly exciting to see snow after a 2 yr absence, but hail? Sleet? Not so fun, especially when you're 14,000 ft in the air, 30 miles from home and 15 hours (if all goes well) from embracing your family. I won't lie, panic fueled my walk back. Screw the trail mix and frozen chocolate bars in my bag, get me off this mountain. Four hours of small but consistent hail accompanied us across loose sand/ash, narrow mountain saddles and forty-five degree angle lava flows that had to be scaled (hi mom!) until we reached a safe point and could finish our descent in peace. 
Suffice to say, we made it with puddles in our boots and morale still mostly intact (two of the women said immediately after getting to the safe point 'I definitely want to do this again!' I was not one of the two). Mt. Meru looms over us in Arusha every day and there's hardly a spot in the city in which you cannot see it (provided its not hidden in the clouds). Admittedly, its quite gratifying to have conquered it. I can't help but feel a tickle of pride every time it shows up in my peripheral vision or looms ahead of me as I approach the house. 
Roger has also climbed Mt. Meru but with optimal weather (things like sun!). So he may have the whole I-write-judgments-against-perpetrators-of-the-Rwandan-genocide-and-what-do-you-do thing going on, but I summited Mt. Meru in the snow! *Our co-climber, Melanie (also my upstairs neighbor), had some very bad luck with her boots about 15 min into the hike. The sole of her boot completely detached from the boot. Some blister tape and borrowing gaiters from the guide seemed to do the trick. About 30 min later, the sole of her other boot did the same thing. Same remedy. When we got to camp 1, a porter sewed the soles back on and used duct tape to “weather-proof” them! And they survived!
***********************************************************************************
Had there been no adverse weather, it might have looked more like this (from Roger's summit in Nov 2009):
Saturday, March 26, 2011
March (Travel) Madness: Lake Chala
No sooner had we returned from Kenya that we were packing up the car again for a weekend of camping. And not just any old camping, first-time camping with a toddler. So many families in Arusha seemed to do it with such ease and frequency, how hard could it really be we figured. Maybe Millie would surprise us with an intrinsic outdoorsy ease, you know, like her Colorado birth certificate would imply. All we had to do was secure a tent and have a foam pad custom made so sleeping would be exponentially comfy.
Rather than go big as we typically do (have baby, promptly move to Africa), we eased our toes in slowly by opting for one night and going with some highly seasoned family campers to the gorgeous Lake Chala right on the border of Tanzania and Kenya.
It was a beautiful setting. The campsite was about a 30 min hike up the steep crater wall from the lake shore and we managed with six children eight years and under, eight adults, fishing poles and bottomless tubes of Pringles (yes, you can get Pringles here!). Our co-campers were camping savants and managed to serve chicken tikka massala for dinner that night, get kids excited about washing dishes and wax lyrical about this thing called 'the environment' (they all work for The Nature Conservancy). All we did was bring lousy bagels and goldfish from Nairobi (the eldest kid, upon seeing the bagels, said 'awesome, donuts!' his mom was none too happy that one year out of America made him forget what a bagel was!).
Then it was nightfall and rather than adhere to a strict bedtime schedule for Millie we decided to just let her stay up until she could take it no more. That was about 8 o'clock. And rather than collapse in the tent within minutes into a deep slumber that would allow us parents to sneak back out and enjoy some adult beverages at the campsite bar (that's right, a bar!), she tossed and turned her various appendages into our faces for about an hour. I think Roger and I fell asleep before she did. The night pretty much continued like that every couple of hours. Restless night notwithstanding, it was a very fun trip. We even managed to get an all-smiling family picture out of the deal!
***********************************************************************************
Someone is growing!
Rather than go big as we typically do (have baby, promptly move to Africa), we eased our toes in slowly by opting for one night and going with some highly seasoned family campers to the gorgeous Lake Chala right on the border of Tanzania and Kenya.
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| Camping savant, Lisa, who carried her 3 yr old up and down these rocky walls 8x over the weekend! A week after this photo was taken, she'd be putting all that hard work to good use by climbing Mt. Meru with me and two others |
Then it was nightfall and rather than adhere to a strict bedtime schedule for Millie we decided to just let her stay up until she could take it no more. That was about 8 o'clock. And rather than collapse in the tent within minutes into a deep slumber that would allow us parents to sneak back out and enjoy some adult beverages at the campsite bar (that's right, a bar!), she tossed and turned her various appendages into our faces for about an hour. I think Roger and I fell asleep before she did. The night pretty much continued like that every couple of hours. Restless night notwithstanding, it was a very fun trip. We even managed to get an all-smiling family picture out of the deal!
Someone is growing!
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| August 2009 |
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| March 2011 |
Friday, February 25, 2011
Somali Pirates, Leggo My Eggo!
I suppose I doomed myself at the tender age of eight when I declared that my favorite Gilbert & Sullivan musical was The Pirates of Penzance. Or maybe I can blame it on my father for when he violated Child Humiliation & Mortification Rule #1 and auditioned for a community production of Pirates of Penzance at my high school. Despite who ends up footing the therapy bill, it is without question that pirates are causing me distress.For one month I was unable to buy tahini, a staple ingredient in hummus. Imagine that! In other months I have had to go without cheddar cheese imported from New Zealand or Ireland. And I’m frequently buying off brand diapers because Senor Huggies seems to be stuck out at sea. Can you say humanitarian crisis? Yeah, yeah, there is poor transportation infrastructure, slow implementation of EAC common market conventions and rampant mismanagement at the ports. But rather than get down on Tanzanian inefficiencies, I choose to blame the pirates because let’s face it, that’s about as sexy as Johnny Depp and will make for great cocktail party chatter once we come back to the US!
The other day a friend told me that in making a decision on what car to import from Japan it was important that it be a diesel vehicle because if Tanzania ever devolved into civil war or other violence there would always be diesel but likely no petrol. I kind of chuckled at the doomsday sentiment but fast forward to today when I went out in search of petrol for the generator and I had to go to no less than three gas stations – absent any civil unrest. Why did those first two gas stations have no petrol? Oil tankers being diverted and/or hijacked by pirates of course!
And speaking of sexy, Somali pirates have digitally kidnapped my husband. The international legal implications of their pillaging and plundering on the high seas of the Indian Ocean have taken hold of his brain and his fingers and led him to the darkside…the blogosphere. The only ransom they will accept is cold beer, meal times, heavy eyelids and demands for Elmo DVD’s. Go over and check out his musings so we can compare site stats over dinner. His avatar is a Southpark pirate, how can you resist that?
[Disclaimer: Somali piracy has once again touched our lives with the tragic death of four Americans sailing around the world. I send my deepest condolences to the victim’s families and in no way reduce the piracy situation to my own lack of unnecessary extravagances. Please keep in mind my tone is completely tongue-in-cheek and is really just a shameless plug for Roger’s blog]
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Get Rich Quick!
Short on cash these days? Unemployment check just not making ends meet? Want to take your caffeine jolt in the Starbucks Trenta? Then consider getting into the generators for East Africa business! Don’t want to store that entire inventory in your garage? Just start a generator repair business and you’re likely to make a killing!
Daily, inconsistent, random and lengthy power cuts are the new vogue in remote places like Tanzania and the expats can’t get enough of the soothing hum of a generator motor or the aromatherapeutic odors of gasoline. They’re willing to pay anything for a generator and its maintenance so that their overpriced boxed milk doesn’t spoil and their iPhones don’t loose their charge. Unable to waste the day away online, it’s causing some unnamed expats to develop crazy behaviors like consistent exercise routines, blowing through e-reader libraries and staying on top of current events (Go Egypt!). It’s even driving some to boutique hotels that have real ice cubes and McDonalds-style fries to abuse its Wi-Fi and download from iTunes like crazy (even in HD!). If foreign direct investment is still not your cup of tea, just go to Vegas and start betting on when the long rains will commence and when the national power company will be able to close the electricity deficit. And when you make your first Benjamin, you better cut me in for throwing this insider tip your way!
Daily, inconsistent, random and lengthy power cuts are the new vogue in remote places like Tanzania and the expats can’t get enough of the soothing hum of a generator motor or the aromatherapeutic odors of gasoline. They’re willing to pay anything for a generator and its maintenance so that their overpriced boxed milk doesn’t spoil and their iPhones don’t loose their charge. Unable to waste the day away online, it’s causing some unnamed expats to develop crazy behaviors like consistent exercise routines, blowing through e-reader libraries and staying on top of current events (Go Egypt!). It’s even driving some to boutique hotels that have real ice cubes and McDonalds-style fries to abuse its Wi-Fi and download from iTunes like crazy (even in HD!). If foreign direct investment is still not your cup of tea, just go to Vegas and start betting on when the long rains will commence and when the national power company will be able to close the electricity deficit. And when you make your first Benjamin, you better cut me in for throwing this insider tip your way!
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Be it Resolved...
Happy New Year! Still here, just crawling out from a post-visitor-and-holiday haze.
Since I last wrote, It's Kili Time HQ has hosted my dad and his partner, organized a baby shower, converted to raw milk, vacationed in Zanzibar, supplied Arusha with holiday dips and treats and played technology catch-up via the world of iTouch apps (thanks Santa!). Not that I am using these things as an excuse for not writing but more as a preview of what topics will likely be covered in future posts.
But in the meantime, in the spirit of the New Year, I will share with you my Resolution for 2011.
The bottle top map is titled Ecological Footprint and its a reflection of each country's human demand upon the ecosystems of their respective land mass. Martina chose to use bottle tops as her medium because she was inspired, ironically, by the local rule of thumb: one person's trash is another person's treasure. It was very moving.
But I can't say that this was my first instance with recycling. Trash disposal here is not as neat and tidy as it is at home. Ultimately it all gets burnt but not before it's picked over multiple times for any little treasures like old batteries or empty yogurt containers. It may sound primitive but I wonder if this system is any better or worse than what we have in the States (any guesses?). Even before my shampoo bottles end up in the incinerator (I only wish it was an incinerator! It's really just a heap at the corner whose smoke flows straight into my house!), they are fished out by the staff for personal use which makes me super self-conscious. What is a girl to do with the baby monitor that was blown out by the wrong electric current 3 months in to our stay? Is it sad that I have seriously contemplated amassing all our "trash" (broken clippers, baby monitors, dysfunctional sippy cups, broken toys) into a duffel bag that we will bring home to America and put into some recycling program there? It just feels embarrassing to offer something I perceive as worthless to the staff. I can thank my undergrad institution for that lovely dose of guilt!
All that is just fluff and background for why I have chosen the resolution I chose. I plan to be more mindful of the waste I create and do my best to reduce.reuse.recycle - my time included! I even got a head start on it last year by switching from long life milk (which costs nearly $2/liter) to raw milk that I pasteurize at home (and costs fifty cents/liter). I'm working on perfecting thick, creamy yogurt also so I can stop buying it (mostly to avoid the plastic container waste, because the yogurt itself is damn good!). And lastly, we FINALLY planted a ginormous vegetable garden on the vacant plot adjoining ours which will help me use only what I need and not let vegetables and herbs wither as I'm prone to do. Barbara Kingsolver I am not, but I figure this very fortunate lifestyle I have cannot be squandered and I should make the most of it. Living in such a mindful fashion will create order (which I love!) and predictability and my hope (fingers crossed) that all other priorities (family, exercise, writing, reading, friendships etc) will fall in place as a result!
Since I last wrote, It's Kili Time HQ has hosted my dad and his partner, organized a baby shower, converted to raw milk, vacationed in Zanzibar, supplied Arusha with holiday dips and treats and played technology catch-up via the world of iTouch apps (thanks Santa!). Not that I am using these things as an excuse for not writing but more as a preview of what topics will likely be covered in future posts.
But in the meantime, in the spirit of the New Year, I will share with you my Resolution for 2011.
Be More Resourceful and Less WastefulMy inspiration for this started late last year at the art exhibition of my friend Martina. Martina is from Switzerland - a place where many and probably all art supplies you could ever imagine are available. But she was living in Arusha for a year and a half with her family while her husband conducted his PhD research. She has since returned to Switzerland. Although I never asked this, I imagine the art tools she was used to working with in Switzerland were in short supply to non-existent in Arusha so she made the most of what was available and created very inspired and beautiful pieces of art, using kanga cloth and bottle tops (yes, soda is still sold in glass reusable bottles here). Behold:
The bottle top map is titled Ecological Footprint and its a reflection of each country's human demand upon the ecosystems of their respective land mass. Martina chose to use bottle tops as her medium because she was inspired, ironically, by the local rule of thumb: one person's trash is another person's treasure. It was very moving.
But I can't say that this was my first instance with recycling. Trash disposal here is not as neat and tidy as it is at home. Ultimately it all gets burnt but not before it's picked over multiple times for any little treasures like old batteries or empty yogurt containers. It may sound primitive but I wonder if this system is any better or worse than what we have in the States (any guesses?). Even before my shampoo bottles end up in the incinerator (I only wish it was an incinerator! It's really just a heap at the corner whose smoke flows straight into my house!), they are fished out by the staff for personal use which makes me super self-conscious. What is a girl to do with the baby monitor that was blown out by the wrong electric current 3 months in to our stay? Is it sad that I have seriously contemplated amassing all our "trash" (broken clippers, baby monitors, dysfunctional sippy cups, broken toys) into a duffel bag that we will bring home to America and put into some recycling program there? It just feels embarrassing to offer something I perceive as worthless to the staff. I can thank my undergrad institution for that lovely dose of guilt!
All that is just fluff and background for why I have chosen the resolution I chose. I plan to be more mindful of the waste I create and do my best to reduce.reuse.recycle - my time included! I even got a head start on it last year by switching from long life milk (which costs nearly $2/liter) to raw milk that I pasteurize at home (and costs fifty cents/liter). I'm working on perfecting thick, creamy yogurt also so I can stop buying it (mostly to avoid the plastic container waste, because the yogurt itself is damn good!). And lastly, we FINALLY planted a ginormous vegetable garden on the vacant plot adjoining ours which will help me use only what I need and not let vegetables and herbs wither as I'm prone to do. Barbara Kingsolver I am not, but I figure this very fortunate lifestyle I have cannot be squandered and I should make the most of it. Living in such a mindful fashion will create order (which I love!) and predictability and my hope (fingers crossed) that all other priorities (family, exercise, writing, reading, friendships etc) will fall in place as a result!
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monkeying Around on Wisteria Lane
Today I am guest posting over at From the Monkey Bars about the onset of a potential hummus war! Come visit and read my sass.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Ready for our move to The Hague!
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| Working on our fitness for the flat roads of Holland |
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| Ta-ta my friends! Off to see the Van Gogh Museum! |
As we packed for our move to Arusha, I was a 3 month old mom who barely knew a lick about where we were moving to much less infant illnesses. Also, I still didn't have my pre-baby bod back, so the clothes packing was not very fun. I assumed Arusha streets (and motherhood) wouldn't be conducive to all my wedge heeled shoes, so I pretty much left those all at home (sniff, sniff). But I did bring my Dansko clogs. And this was my thinking when I packed them in the suitcase: "what if Millie gets sick and we have to fly to Europe for medical care, and its cold there, and we'll probably be in Holland (b/c there are direct flights from Arusha to Amsterdam), so I should have some sensible cold-weather shoes that are versatile in case I'm hoofing it all around Amsterdam, and that make me look sort of local because they're clogs and would also look ok with all the new clothes I'll inevitably be unable to resist buying because living in Africa finally gave me the flat stomach and skinny thighs I've never had." Yup, that's what I was thinking.
Thankfully, we've never had to evacuate to Europe (or even Nairobi) for medical care so my clogs are just collecting dust in my closet. Likewise, it's a sad point as well since I still haven't had my European shopping spree nor magically gotten flat abs and skinny thighs.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
CEO Bex
I alluded last week to a new business for myself but didn't really fill you in on any details. Many of you probably know this already, but a few months ago I started myself a little business in Arusha selling hummus and other dips. There is a significant expat population here with many boutique-y products geared towards them like salsa, tortilla chips, tomato sauce, jams and yogurt that don't really appeal to the maintstream Tanzanian cuisine or food pallet (ok, and yes, the TZ pocketbook!). Surprisingly, hummus was not on the shelves (or at least I never saw it) until the day I decided in my head to go for it. I kid you not, I made up my mind in the car outside the meat shop (where many of these types of specialty products are sold) to make and sell hummus and what should I see upon the shelves but tubs and tubs of hummus!
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| The goods ready for market |
After copious amounts of Amarula soothed my devastation, I was not deterred. One of the little perks of Roger's job is the access I get to his co-workers who, duh, work all day and don't have time to prepare little treats like hummus and balsamic feta dip. The ICTR staff became (and remain) some of my best customers. I also sell at the meat shop, at the equivalent of a U.S. organic farmer's market and just about any other shop the expats flock to. Business has been good to me but Roger will be keepin' his j-o-b until I can sell about 1 billion more tubs. I named my venture Sophia's Specialty Foods. By special order, I also make Mexican Brownies and crostini. Recipes may or may not be shared here, will have to consult my lawyer on that ;). But via email they can probably make their way to you!
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| Herby Feta Dip, a customer favorite |
But that is not the only source of income I am bringing in, can you believe it? My dad has brought me in to the family biz. Many of you know, my dad runs the highly successful Washington Photo Safari and he wants to keep up with the kids by immersing the biz in the social media world. I will be handling things like Facebook, Twitter and eventually a blog. He even gave me a fancy title - Director! Take that, older siblings! Nevertheless, I am a complete Luddite when it comes to this stuff (don't tell the boss!). So tips welcome and "Like" the Washington Photo Safari on Facebook! Paid to surf the net, I can barely believe it.
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| A party I catered for in June |
Monday, September 13, 2010
How come my blog gets a makeover before I do?
Since I don't think Stacy and Clinton will make their way over to Arusha to give me a makeover, I might as well give one to someone else, my blog. Last week I began an online course through Gotham Writers Workshop called How to Blog. My first assignment is to conceive and start a blog. Rather than starting from scratch I thought I would resuscitate the one I already had.
Back in the day when Millie's head circumference was still in the 50th percentile, our little family headed off on the big blue plane for the wild bush of Africa wondering how this could be our life. Did we seriously just have an awesome pregnancy, a bout of unemployment, a swift delivery, a gorgeous daughter and the offer of a dream job in the span of like 5 months? Felt like we were starting something too special not to share, hence the idea of a blog. Alas, unreliable internet, motherhood, no Target and friends with excellent television series on DVD added up to a whole lot of blog abandonment.
Originally, I hoped the blog would be what my letters were while in Honduras for Peace Corps - insightful about our experience served up with a dash of wit, irony and America-the-Beautiful. Although life here became... life, there are still stories to tell. So I am coming back at ya via my homework assignment. My thought is this.... where oh where did that first year go?? Do I really have a lock of Millie's hair from her first haircut in an envelope that's shoved in a book I haven't picked up for 5 months? Indeed I do!
I plan to pick up the pace with the blog and use it as a digital memory keeper of stories and photos, and if I can manage an A+ in my class (and our internet provider cooperates), you might even see some video. It will be mostly of our family and the other special people that make up our lives. I will give special priority to the quotidian but you'll also see news of trips, milestones and special occasions. It will be an exercise that compels me to write more and not fear the SLR camera (and assuage my mom guilt for never starting a baby book). Heck, it'll be just as I originally intended it to be!
So, stay tuned! Posting to pick up and maybe even some neat-o special features too!
And p.s. Although this is the family blog, I am the one writing it, thus I get to post the things I like. I will start maintaining a blogroll of the blogs I like to visit and probably reposting things I liked and read about. Warning, could become very mom-centric and also cause hunger pangs.
Back in the day when Millie's head circumference was still in the 50th percentile, our little family headed off on the big blue plane for the wild bush of Africa wondering how this could be our life. Did we seriously just have an awesome pregnancy, a bout of unemployment, a swift delivery, a gorgeous daughter and the offer of a dream job in the span of like 5 months? Felt like we were starting something too special not to share, hence the idea of a blog. Alas, unreliable internet, motherhood, no Target and friends with excellent television series on DVD added up to a whole lot of blog abandonment.
Originally, I hoped the blog would be what my letters were while in Honduras for Peace Corps - insightful about our experience served up with a dash of wit, irony and America-the-Beautiful. Although life here became... life, there are still stories to tell. So I am coming back at ya via my homework assignment. My thought is this.... where oh where did that first year go?? Do I really have a lock of Millie's hair from her first haircut in an envelope that's shoved in a book I haven't picked up for 5 months? Indeed I do!
I plan to pick up the pace with the blog and use it as a digital memory keeper of stories and photos, and if I can manage an A+ in my class (and our internet provider cooperates), you might even see some video. It will be mostly of our family and the other special people that make up our lives. I will give special priority to the quotidian but you'll also see news of trips, milestones and special occasions. It will be an exercise that compels me to write more and not fear the SLR camera (and assuage my mom guilt for never starting a baby book). Heck, it'll be just as I originally intended it to be!
So, stay tuned! Posting to pick up and maybe even some neat-o special features too!
And p.s. Although this is the family blog, I am the one writing it, thus I get to post the things I like. I will start maintaining a blogroll of the blogs I like to visit and probably reposting things I liked and read about. Warning, could become very mom-centric and also cause hunger pangs.
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