6.30.2008

!

Lots to blog about, but here's the biggest item of late:

-----Original Message-----
From: TED.com [mailto:support@ted.com]
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2008 6:01 PM
To: Knowles, David C.
Subject: We've received your TED2009 membership form

Thank you for submitting your TED2009 registration form. We received it and look
forward to reviewing it. Generally, you can expect to hear from us within four
weeks. If you applied for a Fellowship or Reduced-Rate Membership, you'll hear
from us by early September.

We'll be in touch if we require additional information. In the meantime, we hope
you continue to enjoy the talks on TED.com, and invite you to join the
discussion around these ideas worth spreading ...

Our best wishes,

The TED Team
----

I applied on a fellowship grant since I'll never be able to afford to pay my own way, especially not after a year on half my salary. And with the freaking exchange rates here in Africa, where most currencies are actually APPRECIATING against the USD. A gallon of gas costs about $12 here now, so you all can just quit your whining about prices there - I'm not going to be able to do any personal travel here because of that.

Not to mention food. I am now utterly convinced that Africa's going to be hit first and hardest and longest in the coming global food crises. You can't even get a basic lunch here for under $10US anymore. The first world's demand for cheap food and their collective power to secure it is going to starve millions (more) in Africa - mark my words. More on this soon.

6.25.2008

Lusaka.

I've been here since Monday night. I was supposed to fly in mid-day, but when I got to the airport in Joburg Monday morning, they informed me that there was no fuel in Zambia and as such no more passengers / luggage would be allowed on the plane as it had a weight-max due to the need to carry extra fuel. I'm pretty sure I just missed the cut-off too because there wasn't anyone standing around before me looking all pissed off, but about 20 people behind me were just that. I took it in stride, it just meant working in the airport lounge all day, and not flying til that night.

Its cold here, I think even cooler than Joburg was. Its great, I love it. I'm not looking forward to Ghana's humidity, but at least there I'll be surfing on the weekends.

Good to see old friends here (I think I blogged about running into Kristin on my first time in Zambia, just saw her today), and Kabifya has been taking good care of me, shuttling me around and whatnot. I think I'll probably rent a car for at least one of these weekends and shoot down to cross Botswana, Namibia, and perhaps even Angola off my list, which will mean I've covered most of southern Africa minus Swaziland and Malawi. There's not a terrible lot to do around Lusaka but that's fine as I'll be pretty busy with work most of the time anyway.

Flying in on Saturday to Joburg was clutch. The son of the people who run the guesthouse I stayed at in Pretoria was throwing a small braai with some friends and they welcomed me right in, it was a fun night talking over dinner and drinks, especially when we dabbled into US politics. Sunday I was up early for church, where I saw Phil and Carolien, who got engaged the night before, and the Webbs. I miss the worship at that church already. Then in the afternoon I headed to the southern suburbs of the city and found Jess Wentling - one of our high school kids in the youth group at my church in NYC - at the orphanage she's volunteering at for the summer. Quite the commitment/adventure for a kid in high school, I'm sure, but I'd expect nothing less of our urban super-achiever kids. Got her some cell minutes and set up with my internet card so she could get on email, and then I rushed back to Pretoria for lunch with Gerard's family. Spent the afternoon seeing the doc and getting blood tests and getting my malaria prescription, and then had pizza from my favorite place whilst walking Jess through how to set up the internet on her computer. Then it was Monday morning and I was bound to the airport to (unknowingly) spend my day there.

Oh and I'm pretty sure I left my camera at the guest house in Pretoria. At least I hope I did. So that's great.

6.17.2008


Apparently people do actually check my blog from time to time, because a few of you, my precious internet stalkers, have recently gone so far as to point out my lack of bloggery lately.

Apparently being in the US is not conducive to my motivations to write.

Let's see. Its mid June now. What's new...

Dave and I are pretty much all settled in the new place. I was worn down into picking up a HD flat screen and watching the US Open in high def in my own living room was a whole new addiction. So anyway, all settled in means of course that...

Its time to go to Africa again. I leave on Friday. Here's a random string-of-consciousness list of the things I can remember at the moment that need to happen before I leave:

- Do my taxes. This one pretty much has to happen as I'll be in Africa well past my 90 day auto-extension for being out of the country on 4/15.
- Get my passport back from the Ghana consulate along with my visa for said country.
- Get a hotel in Joburg for Fri/Sat nights. This one is kind of important. Rental car too.
- Get malaria medication. This one I'm toying with not doing.
- Balance out all the finances since the move in.
- More address changes.
- My driver's license expires while I'm out of the country (on my 30th birthday, actually) but there's pretty much nothing I can do about that. I finally have to go back to renew it this time. Which means I need to...
- Change my return flight home from NYC to CA in August. Surfing with the bro's is pretty much shot so I'll probably be doing the trip on my own, unless I can find someone cool enough to go.
- Send support letters for my missions week with the youth group in Uganda.
- Book my Kili plans for the week before that. Figure out how I'm getting from Nairobi to Kili and then from there to Entebbe.
- Find a replacement power cord for the video camera.
- Back up the laptop.
- Find a sublettor for my room (please God please make this happen).
- Continue to juggle the work that now fully 3 senior partners are throwing at me like I'm some Business Development slot machine that they can pull the handle on and win every time. I don't mind doing a fair share of work but people are starting to get insane, and nobody will take no for an answer. I AM LEAVING FOR AFRICA.
- Somehow catch up on about a week's worth of planning for my project that I was supposed to have done before leaving, but didn't because of the last item.
- Get Netflix and the cell phone put on hold whilst I'm gone.
- Fill my prescription for the anti-inflammatories for my foot since I won't be able to rehab it in Africa. Somehow it needs to be fixed before climbing Kili. They've given me a really stylish flat-soled orthopedic shoe I have to wear for the next week or so.
- Get the super to come change the lights in our stupid-high ceiling and replace the gate in the backyard (the one going to the basketball court).
- Tell my bank I'll be leaving them if they try to get me with withdrawl charges this time in Africa.
- DO ALL MY EXPENSE RECEIPTS. I'm like a few months and few thousand dollars behind on these freaking things and I need to send them in. Maybe I'll do this one tonight before leaving the office. I'd feel really good to have that one done.
- Pay the gas bill.

As you can see, blogging, personal emails, or really any personal life at all doesn't really make the list right now. It hasn't been all work, however. We did have, in the last month or so:

- The youth group's Father's Day year-end picnic yesterday. There was much razzle dazzle and nobody sliced my face open with a hubcap, so that was nice. It also ended with the tradition throwing of water on people, but Erin started it this time with Gatorade, taking it up a notch.
- Jen's B-day party the night before. Crappy weather but fun hanging with folk.
- Dinner courtesy of Trisha, who won some silent auction, at Django, with her and Holly and various other friends.
- Taught the last two lessons of the year with youth group on Others First.
- Had our housewarming party, which was off the hook. George knows how to get people grooving.
- Finally took the free tango lessons in Chelsea Market.
- Hosted the Arndt's son-in-law when he got sent back from customs in Cape Town w/o getting to leave the airport b/c he didn't have enough pages in his passport. That same weekend was paintball for Libby's birthday and breaking into the HighLine with Aron.
- Lunch with Dave's dad to talk over my schooling options for next year. There's really nothing in the city that matches what I want to do. Its either Boston or LA which is kind of like deciding whether you'd rather have your hands cut off or your feet removed.
- Lots of 8 mile runs up the West Side Highway, my new favorite place to run. Hence the busted foot.
- Caught a show with Mo and Jason and Julie and Amanda and her new BF. Show was some guy Mo knows from college, he was pretty good, and it was good to see everyone.
- Was in Chicago for a week for training, I think I forgot to blog about that. Training was good, made some new friends. Took it a lot easier than we used to at training, for the most part.

I think that's about it. I leave for Lusaka, Zambia (via DC and Johannesburg) on Friday afternoon. Next blog most likely from there.

6.02.2008

I'm a four and a half point Calvinist and that makes the fact that I've de-prioritized dating in my life an OK thing.

If you're not sure what Calvinism is, well, its a reformed Christian doctrine based on the original insights of a one John Calvin, during the reformation era in Europe. Here's Dave's fast and furious recap of the 5 tenets of Calvinism:

Total Depravity - man is completely dead in his sin, unable to do anything to save himself. Sin has effected all parts of me, the complete essence of my being - I am totally depraved. We all are.

Unconditional Election - God bases his choice of me to be saved on nothing that has anything to do with me. He elects some to be saved and does not elect others. I can't know why, and I can't do anything to affect his choice on that.

Limited Atonement - Jesus' death on the cross was sufficient for all mankind but not effacious for all mankind. He bore the sins of many. This is closely related to UE - I can't know why. It just is - some of us will go to heaven and some of us won't.

Irresistible Grace - When God elects me, I can't say no to the call. There is an internal call, a work of the Holy Spirit, that is at the same time irresitible to me, and yet leads me willingly and even freely to God (this is key to my initial statement above, as you'll see in a minute). I am both free and irreistibly bound.

Perseverance of the Saints - Once saved, always saved. I cannot lose my salvation. Or, more importantly, God can't screw up his election / redemption / salvation of me, or somehow do it insufficiently.

(These five points spell the delightful acronym TULIP, as you may have noticed.)

I'm a 4.5 Calvinist because I agree mostly with all of the above, and can defend it with scripture. I do, however, have a certain amount of humility that I apply broadly to my faith at large, a rather general acceptance that there are some things that I simply cannot know or understand fully in this life time. Some of these things may even be things that no one at all can fully achieve, but who am I to guess at what God may reveal to the minds greater than mine? The point is that I can't know everything, and so sometimes I apply that realization directly to my theology.

I think there's some balance of free will with the predestination. I believe this because I believe my relationship with God is as much a real relationship, perhaps even more real, than any human relationship here on earth. And one of the ncecessities of a relationship is that two independent parties come into it of their own will. I do believe that I was forknown to be elect and to choose God, but at the same time I believe that I had to be the one to be there and make that actual choice before it actually came to be. I realize that these fly in the face of each other, but I am OK with that and don't expect to resolve it in this lifetime.

This, oddly enough, is quite closely related to why I believe that not talking to a certain stranger I run into, not chasing a potential relationship with a close friend, not deciding to make a relationship with one of the fairer sex a priority in my life at this point - this is why I believe that this is an OK thing. I don't think there is anything that I can do or not do that can stop me from winding up in the right relationship at the right time with the right person. If its supposed to happen, its going to happen. I can't stop it. If the stranger is The One, we'll somehow cross paths again. If the friend is the one, the timing will work out at some point. And if there is no relationship out there in my future, that's going to work out just fine too.

It makes it OK to not care.

And yet at the same time it doesn't. I have to think about these things. I have to wrestle with them and make sure I do due diligence on my end. I can't take it lightly and I have to have both a massive amount of trust that God has my best in mind - and I can't screw up His plan, and concurrently a constant motivation to search these things out and not sit back lazily on my haunches waiting for him to drop someone into my life. Even if I've decided that now is not the time for that.

Right now is a time for more Africa. I'm going back for the summer, I'll be working - on my own this time - in Zambia and then Ghana through early August. That just is what it is.

It feels like an escape, after a fashion. I've been talking with Brian since he got back and he feels the same way. We don't know how to cope with such ridiculously comfortable, opulent lives when there's a continent full of people trying not to die on less than 2 dollars a day. People talk about how these people "live" on less than 2 dollars a day, but that's not a life. You don't live on that. You die slowly on that. They are trying to not die.

I'm going back to help, but this time will be shorter, and then I'll be back and I'll finally have to go back to "normal life" as I once knew it.

Problem is, it never will be again.

(Happy June everyone.)

5.25.2008

Well, yeah. I've been back for what, about a month now, and no blogging. Eh.

I've been busy mostly and then also not very much at other times. Here's the short recap:

Week 1 - spent some time back in CA with the folks. Flew out to NY and started the apartment search with Dave. Found / settled on a place.

Week 2 - worked out all the details on the place. Went to the office, got some training done. Stayed at Dave's family's place until the moving started at the end of that week.

Week 3 - continued the moving in / unpacking process. Had the super over a lot to fix up a bunch of stuff but the good news is that they're pretty darn responsive, which is rad. Celebrated Dave's 30th in a few various scenarios (Jen's apartment, Lugers, a bar on the east side, etc.).

Week 4 - went to Chicago for training all week. Started running again (first time since Africa). Had good karma in O'Hare for the first time in my life and caught a standby seat on the earlier flight coming home.

Week 5 - not sure what I did last week really besides finish the unpacking / cleaning finally, find out that I'm probably headed back to Africa for work for the summer, run some more, and then hurt my stupid foot so that now I'm probably out for a week or so. Then we came up to Jen's dad's lakehouse just south of the NY border, which is where I am sleeplessly typing from at the moment.

I'm getting settled back into the pace of things here and the culture shock isn't so bad as it initially was but its still noticeable. I'm actually kind of looking forward of going back to the simplicity of Africa for a bit, where you order whatever it is that they happen to have for dinner that night, rather than having to decide from the endless options, and the specials. Etc.

I still need to do my taxes, fight my parking ticket, pay my bills, change my address for everything, clean up my work email and wipe out one of the full drives on the laptop and then back it up, and a host of other administratia, plus Dave and I are having our housewarming party next weekend. So it should be a busy while before I take off again, from the looks of it. Good news is that this latest bit of work back in the dark continent should afford me the chance to climb Kili this August, and perhaps meet up with the youth group in Uganda for their missions trip there after that. Still have to hammer all of that down - another item on the to-do list.

Right now, however, I'm tired, so I think I'll stare at the ceiling for a while. Am I the only person on the planet who doesn't love the movie Juno?

5.01.2008


I could probably count on one hand the number of times in my life that I've felt truly overwhelmed.

Now is one of those times. NYC is, quite literally, overwhelming me.

There is so much to do. There are youth leader interviews with the students for the Uganda missions trip this August, and then there's trying to figure out where I'll be and whether or not I'll be able to join the trip. There is setting up the electricity and cable/internet for the new apartment (not to mention the last week spent finding it, doing the applications, getting the deposits in, signing the lease, getting the keys, finding out there's no deadbolt, and trying to get a hold of the super). There is moving in. Likely in the rain. There are friends coming to visit and many more still here that I have yet to catch up with. There are the parties - somehow I forgot about the nearly constant parties - at this person's new apartment or that rooftop bar or what-have-you. There is working late to catch up on training since I've burned precious daylight hours on the moving process. There's trying to remember to stop and eat when I'm leaving the office. There's dry-cleaning to be dropped off and picked up and laundry to be washed and folded. There's an AC unit to order and have shipped. There's a new couch to find, and carpet for the downstairs too. There's booking the travel for training in Chicago in a couple of weeks, and then there's updating the resume and the constant search for the next project. There's trying to figure out if it will be in the US or maybe Moscow.

Perhaps even more distressing, however, is the sheer volume of options. Everything is open at all hours of the day, once again. There's 6 million different places to eat. There's the bank 5 blocks north or the one 2 avenues east. There were 10 or so viable apartments to pick from, and even once narrowed down to 4 it was still a tough decision. There were too many foreign beers to choose from at the bar where we made our decision. There were too many bars in the neighborhood where we made it, too. There's 5 different church service times to pick from on Sunday. There's the subway or the tram, or the bus, or the ferry, or a taxi, or walking - all depending on where you're going, or how fast you need to get there, or how much you have to spend on it, or some confluence of the three. There's 2 offices to work from (pick the one you can wear jeans to). There's the endless toppings for your salad at Hale and Hearty. And the packaging, the endless packaging - everything comes wrapped in plastic of some sort, and then you get a paper or plastic bag to carry it in, for no charge! There's cable TV with 200 some choices, and the regular high-speed cable internet or the extra-super-high-speed cable internet (guess). There's 3 airports to choose from and 100 or so flight combos to choose from for a simple RT to Chicago. There were 3 different free newspapers being hawked to me at the top of the stairs to the subway. There's 6 different kinds of metro-cards, and today I bought my first ever monthly unlimited (deciding between which credit card to use), and spent the ensuing ride wondering if I'd get 40 rides in during the next 30 days to make it cost efficient.

At least this this time I didn't get lost on the subway.

The other day I was trying to get to the uptown F-train platform at the 34th street station and I literally became lost, for a moment, in the station. Probably the station I'm most familiar with in the entire city, and there I stood on a down-ramp looking around like I'd just lost my horse or found a rope. Looking like a tourist, for crying out loud.

Why do I not remember feeling this way the first time I moved to NYC? Everything just kind of gelled. Even getting lost was part of the experience, then. Getting lost now, though, like I did again last night, trying to get through the West Village to Nic's place, seems strange in a hard-to-describe manner - like wandering into your back yard and forgetting why you came there in the first place.

I'm somewhat apprehensive to leave the office late at night and face the plethora of possibilities that await me. What is this strange fear?

And if coming back from Africa is this difficult for someone who's lived here before, what's it like for someone who's never faced such a deluge of option? How does that person not just shut down?

Somebody told me that reverse culture shock would be worse than going there was, and I shrugged that off, but they were right.

Things I miss:

People greeting each other before starting a conversation. This I miss most of all. I start my deli-counter experience here with the standard "Howr you?" and have YET to get a response from anyone - its like here, ignoring the question altogether is germane. There's an unspoken "I'm fine but you aren't asking because you really care so I'm not going to pretend to respond to your fake question." I don't like that. Did I used to do this? It feels rude.

Cheap food.

The constant warm weather, and the elevation. Its almost as if being back at sea level makes me feel heavier, more weighed down.

Good surf within a day's travel. I miss Cape Town and in retrospect realize that I should have spent a lot more time there, and if I get back, that is what I will do.

Simplicity. You get used to limited options and there's a general this-is-how-things-are attitude of acceptance. There are lower expectations and fewer reasons, for lack of a better way of putting it, to get bent out of shape.

New stamps in the passport.

Running alone in the morning with the local blacks on their way to work. Also the genuine kindness of many of the Afrikaaners, notably my client.

Days that start at 5am and end early too. Being awake when most of the US is asleep.

Things I don't miss:

Toilets that need repeated flushing.

People pretending to use language barriers to their benefit. Corrupt police.

Living complacently, just south of the disaster in Zimbabwe.

Jack Daniels priced as a luxury brand.

Not being able to walk around at night and feel safe. If there's one thing I do not miss about ZA it is the prevalence of crime. Being able to stay late at the office without having to think about the precautions I'm going to take to get home safely is a nice change.

18 hour cattle-class flights.

4.19.2008

5:44 AM. Saturday morning. Its still dark, but I'm awake. In 12 hours I'll be leaving SA airspace. The project ended yesterday.

I grab the last orange Fanta out of the fridge and sit down to blog.

Kind of fell off the blogging horse for the last week or so - its been a bit crazy wrapping up the project, saying goodbye to everyone, packing up, juggling the possibility of 3 more months of extension work here (found out last night that its postponed til July, at best), and trying to settle on where I'm living when I get back. On the last one, it looks like NYC, with Dave, for the next year. After that I'm leaning towards re-igniting my seminary search, to start the following year. And I'm leaning towards the idea of a school near the coast, back in CA. Surf, baby.

The last few months kind of reignited the surfing bug, after many years dormant - specifically Mauritius and Cape Town, where I surfed last weekend, whilst staying with Mike and Kayln, and Gawie, who's living with them. They have a sweet ocean-view place on the atlantic side of the Cape - south of CT and only about 10 minutes north of the actual Cape itself. It is, authoritatively, one of the most beautiful spots on the planet. And there's incredible surf there.

So the plan from here is to finish packing, do some last minute shopping / errands, fly back to SF via DC, crash at Peters, and then get up to Sacto one way or another. Thursday I'll fly back to the city and stay at Dave's parents' place while we try to nail down an apartment. Mid May I'll head back to Cali and drive down the Baja coast of Mexico with Jonny and whichever of the other brothers have their affairs in order to join us, for mas surfing. These are my plans. I have no specific work projects lined up. I'd like to find a commuting gig in Europe, I think.

I'll miss the organic yogurt from Woolworths, the good cheap wine, the Zulu/Xhosa-influenced hip hop on the radio, the beautiful blonds, the great pizza, the game parks, the warm Indian Ocean, the early rising / early setting lifestyle, the almost-always perfect weather, the best client I've ever worked with (hands down), the flat-out sexy accents, orange Fanta, rugby on the telly, the favorable exchange rate, incredibly friendly people, and driving a BMW. I'm sure there will be lots of other things that I realize over the next couple of weeks that I will miss, but that's all I can think of at 6 in the morning.

Coming to Africa has been pretty much the coolest part of my life.

(More follow-up blogging on Uganda to follow in the next few days, as I get chances to do so.)

4.11.2008

Day 3 was all in the field, and rather incredible. I'll start with just the morning.

First thing after the morning meeting at the CoW centre, I headed just a few blocks away through town to a building site behind one of the nicer hotels in Gulu (to say nothing of the hotel quality scale in places like these). Just behind the hotel, there was a flurry of activity surrounded by long piles of stacked bricks.

The Kwiri Pe Lok Building Construction Association is a small, private company in Gulu, run by a smart, well-spoken young man (26! I certainly hadn't accomplished what he had when I was 26!) by the name of Santo Okwera. Okwera runs the company, employing 26 full time local young men and women, about 85% of whom are formerly abducted child soldiers / sex slaves - mostly from the Kitgum and Gulu districts. This was my first direct contact with former abductees, and I saw immediately something in their eyes, or rather, the lack of something - in all of their eyes. The physical evidence was there - a gaping cavity in an arm where a bicep had once been, a massive scar down the side of a neck, and more - it was hard to not stare and wonder. But when they looked at me I could see that there was something missing on the inside, too. I don't know what it is, or how to describe it any better than that. It was just a kind of hollow return of your gaze.

Santo organized the association in 2006 from a number of smaller community groups, and WV worked with him to donate a Hydroform brick-making machine sourced in South Africa. In addition to the 26 full-time employees, he employs day-laborers who show up each morning and are paid on a daily-basis at a lower rate. Due to the variations of the working conditions, he can sometime employ more daily works, and sometimes not. The day I was there, there were probably 15 additional workers to the normal 26.

A Hydroform brick machine runs on a diesel engine, and uses high pressure and water to mold essentially rectangular, fitted bricks out of a sand / cement / sub-soil mix. It pops out the bricks on two sides, at a rate of about one every 20 seconds per side. Problem was, that morning, the oil gasket on the one side was broken, so production was cut in half. While the sand and cement are purchased and brought in, the sub-soil is sourced right there on site, so in addition to those working the brick machines, those stacking the bricks, those building the wall, and those actually mixing the brick mixture on the ground, there were a few in deep, wide holes digging up more sub-soil. The majority, however, were working on the mixing.

This, Santo pointed out, was their main issue - he couldn't produce and build any faster, because so many of the workers (23 of his 26, in fact) had to be devoted fully to the mixing of the brick ingredients. With just one basic cement mixer, that number could be reduced to 5, freeing up 18 people to build the wall (or house or other structure, depending on the project). In addition to that, with a mixer they could produce enough mixture to run the Hydroform machine at full capacity, making 4,000 bricks per day - currently they can only mix enough in one day to produce 3,000. Not only that, the uniform mixing of the machine, as opposed to on the ground with shovels, would produce significantly higher quality bricks, and reduce their current loss percentage.

"How much would a cement mixer cost in Gulu?"

"About 7.5 million shillings."

That's less than $5,000 USD, I thought.

"When do you plan to get one?"

"World Vision doesn't have funds to help us obtain one, so we are saving for it on our own. We should have enough in 1 year to buy one if business keeps up."

One year, I thought. I did some quick math: that would cost me about $15 a day. Which means it would cost 10 people about a buck-fifty a day. Which means it would cost 100 people about 15 cents a day. Or $10 from 500 people, just once. File that one away for later...

Right now 60% of Santo's revenue is spent on salaries, roughly 30% goes towards machine maintenance and supplies, leaving 10% for splitting between the administrative costs and the meager savings they put aside for re-investing in the business (i.e. a cement mixer in a year, buying property and a proper building on it to store the brick machine in, getting trucks for the transport of workers - which they currently have to hire out, etc.). Santo also hopes to get a digital camera in the future so they can take pictures of the completed projects and build a portfolio to market their services to other potential clients. But he mentioned that in passing, as if it was years off in his mind and in their budget. Meanwhile I clicked away on mine. Stupidly. Ignorantly, really.

The good news is that Gulu is growing and the business really is there to be had - at least for the time being. The bad news is that for a good while yet, Santo won't be able to keep up with demand, and in the meantime will be limited in the number of local kids he can provide jobs to.

4.09.2008

My second day in Gulu started with an early morning run. I took the main road heading south out of town, and ran past literally thousands of other people walking in the opposite direction - into town (there are cars here, but the vast majority of people here have probably never ridden in one). I've tried to get out and go running in the neighborhoods in most of the countries I've visited that it was relatively safe to do so in - Zimbabwe, Zambia, Mozambique, and here in Uganda. You're the subject of much attention, which feels a little awkward, but its fascinating to see how these people live every day, up close. Breath the same rotten air from the trash heaps and fires, tread the same pothole-pocked road and red dirt berms, hear the same sounds and see the same slum neighborhoods that they live in. It makes you want to be able to do more, when you see these conditions.

Once at the CoW centre I met up with Dora, one of the field-work coordinators. One of Dora's primary responsibility is the coordination and training of the Community Volunteer Caregivers (CVC's) who are conducting what is referred to as Interpersonal Psycho Therapy Groups (IPTGs). This includes the pre-assessment in the community for the need for a group, the identification of CVCs to do the work, on-going status updates with the CVCs, and after-program reporting. I'm sure there's much more involved than that.

IPTG is basically a small group of 8-12 former abducted children, receiving group therapy primarily in the context of talking with the group about their problems, i.e. family problems, recurring nightmares, inabilities to get proper education, inability to find work, etc.. My gut reaction was "how does sitting around talking with others with the same problems help?" and my next thought was "you don't know much about therapy, do you, dummy?" It became quickly apparent that these programs are very effective. IPTG groups are currently being carried out in many different areas across 8 sub-counties in Northern Uganda, and the long-term goal is to move the management of these groups from the CoW centre into the actual field programs, or Area Development Programs (ADPs), as World Vision refers to them.

Interestingly enough, the main problem for rehabbed child soldiers is poverty. There's certainly not the money available to most of the to receive anything nearing a normal education, and one can only imagine the prospects for a generation lacking that basic building block. Bigger problems arise, however, for those who have ongoing medical issues and disabilities - money for basic treatment can often be a problem. Part of the CoW's ongoing community work is trying to find enough support for these children to see specialized doctors, get needed operations, be fitted with specialized orthopedics (one big European org helping out in this particular area is AVSI, providing such orthopedics at subsidized rates for artificial limbs, raised shoes, etc.).

For these unhealthy kids, even if education were a possibility, they likely wouldn't be able to attend as regularly as their peers, and so they often miss out on even the basic vocational skills training that the CoW programme runs. Dora is currently working on a sample proposal for a group out of Australia called Trust Charity Fund (TCF) to support: 1) Ongoing medical support, 2) Seed money for affected children to start small businesses, and 3) Shelter support within the communities for such children.

Dora's work covers a relatively massive area across 4 districts in northern Uganda - Gulu, Kitgum, Pader, and Arua. She pointed out a few more distressing facts about the work in these areas:

- Many of the children returned to the community are actually children who were born in captivity, often returning without their parents, who were likely still part of the army, or deceased. These children are often returned to their grandparents, who because of their age often particularly struggle to support both themselves and these new children. No current funding exists for grandparents like these (World Vision, for one, has more than it can handle just working with the children).

- Funding from the US directed towards formal education totals to a paltry sum - enough for only 20 children a year in northern Uganda. This funding, further, is only applied to through the first year of secondary school, after that the kids are left to their own devices. World Vision secures funding for all kinds of other work, of course - the CoW work, food programmes, etc.. But that's the extent of the education funding. (The cost of the War in Iraq, by the way, is now over half a trillion dollars - that's a 5, followed by 11 zeros.)

- Parental responsibility in the communities is often a huge problem, as the parents often are not taking a pro-active stance in caring for their children. I found this both distressing and yet somewhat understandable for a people in such dire times - often it is hard for a parent to garner enough sustenance for themselves, let alone the child. That would make me struggle with depression, I'm sure. Many of the women do what's referred to as "awara" - buying vegetables and other goods in small bulk in the towns, walking them back out to the camps, and re-selling them there. Many of the men stay home and drink. Many of the children are left alone. Dora felt that in general there was altogether too much dependence on the NGO's to care for the children rather than the families and communities.

After meeting Dora, I met Sam. Sam and I talked for a minute and then rushed off to a Child Protection Committee (CPC) meeting. The CPCs are government-established groups of community leaders in a given sub-county (with a given number of parishes within each sub-county). Sam was helping to facilitate the Bungatira sub-county CPC meeting, along with a counter-part from UNICEF. Different sub-counties work with whichever NGOs in particular are doing work there, hence WV works with a number of different NGOs in the various sub-counties where they have operations. The purposes of this meeting were to do an overview of the CPC, discuss its composition (there have been some recent changes in what type of community leaders should be involved), discuss the current issues (3 of the 7 parishes in Bungatira have still not returned from the IDPs to their villages), and discuss the 2008 strategies for the CPC.

The issues discussed were already becoming commonplace in my mind: young mothers, child-headed households, discrimination, domestic violence, exploited child labor, school drop-outs, suicide, inability to conduct follow-up and reporting, and inadequate numbers committee members to serve the communities. Much of the meeting was conducted in the local Luo language, but I gathered what little I could from Sam afterwards.

Sam works primarily in the technical guidance, administration, and organization of the CPCs that WV is involved with in n. Uganda. His work involves liaising with many of the other NGO's operating in the area (and, thankfully, there are many), as well as government representation helping to organize the efforts. While the CPCs handle some smaller community issues on their own, their primary directive is to identify orphans and vulnerable children for support, and refer them to the proper NGO. In this respect, although the needs vary by communities, its estimated that 70-80% of such children are served at least in some way.

In the afternoon, Dora took me with her for a CVC (keeping up with the acronyms here?) update meeting in an IDP camp about an hour outside of the town of Gulu (by the way, most of the districts are named after the capital city of the district, hence we were still in the district of Gulu). The IDP camp I hope to describe better in pictures at some point than I can in words - basically endless mud huts for thousands of people, clustered together in a large group that you can almost smell the fear in. They are quiet, and they are huge.

The gist of the CVC update: more problems. Everywhere, problems. Problems creating more problems. Children dropping out of school or even out of group therapy, families leaving the IDP camps for midway points between the village and the camp (known as "decongestion camps") - causing the children to have to walk long distances for schooling, a child mother who attempted her own abortion, diseases abruptly spreading in certain communities, at some point its hard not to become numb.

At the end of day 2 I sought out a younger shop-keeper in town named Frederick, one of the very, very few from the community that found a way to move through university successfully and return to the community to start his own business (mainly water engineering, building wells and the like, although he's trying to expand into a number of other areas). I wanted to ask him about where I could go for a good meal in Gulu, and he insisted on touring me around the town on his motorbike, showing me all of the best places, the place I ate at the first night being among them, to my dismay. He insisted that we have dinner together (and he would insist, despite my protests, on paying - in typical Ugandan graciousness) and so we did - a skinny chicken leg and some fries.

It began to dawn on me at his point that there really weren't any fat people here. Anywhere. Hadn't seen one that I could remember. Comparatively speaking, to most in Gulu, and probably most of Uganda, we were eating like kings. And I went to bed feeling what I've always called "hunger," but questioning whether I ever really had experienced the real thing.

4.08.2008


It’s the end of Day 1. It's been a long day.

Landed last night in Entebbe, where I met up with Diana, who drove us to her place in Kampala. She had a massive dinner cooked and after that, I went to bed, where I didn't really sleep much all night. Spent the first couple hours on the last of my geographical / historical research on Northern Uganda, and the rest of them tossing around in the heat, under the mosquito net.

Morning came and Diana deposited me at the bus depot in downtown Kampala, which was a complete madhouse - cramming people onto crammed buses, hawkers selling you everything from bread to fake watches to battery-powered fluorescent lights to shoes and flip flops. The bus - regardless of where its headed, apparently - doesn't leave until it is full. And they mean full - everyone's sitting on someone, which is nice, when you're driving 6 hours over the surface of the moon, in heat suited more for the surface of the sun.

Enter Gulu.

The bus drops me at a similarly insane taxi / bus depot, with 80 people screaming at me that they are in fact my cab, my boda-boda. Boda-boda is slang for the motorcycle taxis of death, which are everywhere. It comes from the English slang for border-to-border, back when these guys used to transfer people completely across the country, unbelievably enough. Apparently they still sometimes do. MY BODA BODA, MUZUNGU!

But, no. Nobody was there to meet me in the withering heat, and when I raised Bob on the phone he told me to, you guessed it, hop a boda-boda to his offices. So that was interesting, on the back of that thing with my backpack behind me and laptop case in front of me, and the guy not really "knowing" where he was going, so he could charge me extra. Upon arriving, I met Bob and then Mark.

---

Bob heads up the programs (all of them) for Northern Uganda, whereas Mark directs the work done specifically by the Children of War centre established in Gulu, for all of Northern Uganda. I felt like I learned so much from just my first brief meetings - Mark gave me a kind of overview of the environment and context they're currently operating in (and was surprised how much I knew already - what follows is a mix of those two sources):

World Vision's Children of War programme is the biggest programme in all of Uganda, sadly enough. As Mark put it, Uganda is still very much a country where changes come via the bullet, not the ballot, and more Acholi people (the main ethnic group under persecution there) are killed with each new strife. The CoW program was first instituted in 1988 in response to Joseph Kony's (the leader of the LRA since 1987) killings. Kony rose to power in the LRA as part of a branch off of Alice Auma's Holy Spirit Movement - a nightmare in and of itself. While no solid information exists, most online resources claim that mass abductions of children didn't start until 1994, however I would come to personally meet former abductees that were "recruited" to the LRA long before that.

The LRA is actually an insurgence movement in Northern Uganda that started in large part in response to Yoweri Museveni's rise to power in 1986 when he overthrew the then-president, Tito Okello (an ethnic Acholi). Thus, the LRA had at least some support from the Acholi community in the north, at first, because the National Resistance Army (of Southern Uganda). The LRA came to adopt tactics of very often attacking civilian targets, raiding them of supplies and often abducting the civilians themselves to carry them off.

In 1991, more concerted efforts were made to do away with the LRA by cutting off what support they did have in the population, but this failed and only served to anger Kony even more - the LRA responded by mutilating any Acholi they thought to be a government supporter. The people now had a failing government and an attacking insurgency, neither of which there was much support for.

After some brief peace negotiations broke down in the early 90's, the LRA fled north across the Sudanese border and established bases there with the approval of the Sudanese government, in response to Ugandan support for the rebel Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA) fighting the civil war in Southern Sudan. A tragic irony if ever there was one.

Kony then got even more brutal, as mutilations became a regular occurrence - the cutting off of ears, lips, and noses being common, but sometimes much worse. This too was when the abductions began to increase sharply, and were sometimes en mass. My experiences in Uganda would lead me to question over and again how the LRA could continue to exist when so many people oppose it, until someone answered my question with a rather blunt question of their own: "If you were fighting a rebel army where the majority of their soldiers were your own stolen children, how exactly would you fight?" As one source puts it: "The moral ambiguity of this situation, in which abducted young rebels are both the victims and perpetrators of brutal acts, is vital to understanding the current conflict."

In the mid 90's, the government began the establishment of Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camps - supposed safe havens for the hundreds of thousands of people who had fled their villages due to LRA attacks. They weren't safe in the camps either, the LRA would find them there as well.

In 2002, the Uganda People's Defense Force (UPDF) launched yet another attempt to try to wipe out the LRA, which responded by increasing their attacks in northern Uganda to levels of brutality similar to the mid 90's. This would continue for about 2 years until the military pressure on the LRA became enough to drive them back (mainly into Sudan, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo).

No solid numbers exist on the effects of the conflict, but estimates are that at least 12,000 have been killed and almost 2 million displaced from their homes. Even less solid evidence is to be had regarding the abductions, as so many were never to return - according to a recent survey in Kitgum and Pader (neighboring provinces to Gulu), at least 66,000 youth between ages 13 and 30 have been abducted.

66,000. An entire generation of an entire ethnicity, used as soldiers and sex slaves.

The CoW programme still supports many of the families that are still trying to find their children. As the LRA is continually weakened, community resistance to the rebellion grows - but it is still a tense situation, and as Mark put it, they are "still treating the symptoms, not the problem." The good news, however, is that abductions in recent years have been minimal.

The CoW programme operates under 2 main headings - the centre itself (a complex with classrooms, living quarters, a medical clinic, dining facilities, and administrative offices), and in-community operations. As few abductees are currently returning from "the bush" as they call it, the majority of the work is now being carried out in the communities.

The work in the centre has primarily focused on receiving and documentation, counseling, reconciliation (more on that shortly), family tracing, treatment / relief (medical and psychological), and the introduction of educational options (returning to school, basic occupational therapy in carpentry, bike repair, etc.). The average child would spend approximately 40 days in the centre before returning to his community (often in an IDP camp, that is). At their height of operations, there were actually 3 centres, one for young children (where I was), one for new mothers (often victims of rape during abduction), and one for young adults). They remain posed, however, to re-open centers as needed should either a peace agreement be reached or hostilities increase again, the possibility of either seeming eminent. The centre also serves to treat what are referred to as "silent sufferers" - the thousands of children who were not abducted, often because they were too small to be of use at the time, but who may have been separated from their family, left behind often when the family themselves were abducted or killed.

The work in the communities is the primary work still being carried out. It involves, among other things:

- Liaising with local artisans / institutions to set up job opportunities for the returning youth
- Forming small independent groups focused on income generation
- Community Volunteer Caregivers (CVCs) who work primarily with the group therapy of children in the communities
- Forming social clubs (Peace clubs, etc.)
- Continued treatment as necessary (medical, psychological)
- Formal education (to a very small extent, as education in Uganda is priced extremely prohibitively)

Two areas of work that take place across both the centre and the community are reconciliation and truth-telling. Mark couldn't stress enough how vital these were - very often the perpetrators of the crimes were other children returning to the same communities, as in the case of a boy in the centre forgave his mother's killer, also a returned abductee. Mark had further worked with a pregnant mother in the new mother's centre working through the reconciliation process with the man who had cut her lips off. As he put it, the CoW work "cuts across ages and geographies." The truth-telling really runs hand-in-hand with, and is very much a part of, the reconciliation process, however it is clear that the current system cannot support these processes, and locally-grown capacity is necessary for that. Mark pointed out that the government needs to help create this structure, but that "they have a lot on their plate already."

Mark told me a bit more about what to expect of the next few days, and then we talked about the interesting timing of the peace talks, set to take place on Friday of this week, in Juba - Kony himself was rumored to be potentially signing a peace agreement there. Mark pointed out that any such agreement would necessarily precipitate the government, declaring at some point, that there were no more children in the bush. This would create, of course, unrest among those with children still missing - be they alive and still in the bush, or now presumed dead, either way - a difficult situation at best.

---

I like how I see fit to complain about crowded buses, and the heat, and not being met when I arrive. Like I actually have problems in my life. And yet, in a weird way, I think its kind of intrinsically OK that I have my minor problems, as long as they aren't where the buck stops. I look at the success in my life and the related hassles that come bound in with them, and if you must have the one with the other, but yet still you can be in a position to help - there's something OK about that. So long as you're actually doing something.

After the meeting I found my hotel room, then wandered around downtown Gulu a bit, in the waning sunlight. Got some extra batteries, bottled water, and 20 minutes in the internet café. Had a local beer (about $1.10, exchange rate works in my favor, at least outside the major cities), started To Kill a Mockingbird, and then met Bob for a quick and not very satisfying late dinner.

Meanwhile Mugabe's busy setting up more rigged elections down in Zimbabwe. Did you know that Al Jazeera's the only international news group allowed in that country? Gah.

4.07.2008

Uganda.

It all started on Thursday, I realized as I was rushing through the terminal just a few minutes ago. But Thursday seems so long ago. So very long ago.

Thursday I walked out of World Vision's headquarter offices on the northern edge of greater Los Angeles. I walked to my car and drove into the constant traffic that makes its home in that city. I drove south to OC. I saw friends. I crashed at a hotel next to LAX, and then I flew back to Johannesburg.

You never realize it whilst in transit, but you lose a day of your life on the airplane. All of a sudden it was Sunday and I was the last person waiting for bags to come on the luggage belt. Except mine never came.

It was the clueless, unhelpful lady at the check-in desk at LAX. I had told her I was connecting through IAD to JNB. I said "Johannesburg" and she mumbled something about not knowing the airport code, and guessed "JAB." Her co-worker and I corrected her simultaneously: "JNB." Apparently she didn’t listen, and now my bag is on its way to Jabiru, Australia. And I'm sitting on a plane bound for Entebbe.

Having some-teen hours on the ground here in Joburg was vital. I drove home, showered, and went to evening service, even though I was only half awake, because you should really go to church on Easter. I drove home. I got pizza. I didn't pack. I was sure I'd wake up early. And I did - I woke up at midnight on the nose, I took my malaria meds, had a drink, watched something on the still-on TV, and went back to bed.

Then I woke up at it was 10:30am. I packed for my 2+ weeks of travel in under 5 minutes, which has to be some kind of record. There wasn't a lot to pack. And I'm sure I left important stuff behind, but as long as I'm on the airplane with my passport, the rest should sort out.

I rushed to the store for a couple emergency replacement items that the airline would be picking up the tab for (including a rain jacket, thank God). And then to the airport, at about 95mph. Thank God, also, for the lack of law enforcement on the highways here (and thank Hertz for another MB).

I left my house keys in the car when I returned it. After retrieving those, and getting through customs, and calling Diana in Kampala, I bought 2 gifts, toothpaste and a toothbrush (those were not the gifts), and a sandwich. And then I was walking out to the bus that takes us to the waiting plane.

It was so bright and blue and clear out. Its flat at the airport, I felt like I could see most of the way to Uganda, had the world been flat. I paused outside the bus, and then I had that feeling again. I've been having it a lot lately.

There's a part, right at the end of a chapter in the Lord of The Rings trilogy, where Aragorn takes Frodo's hand and leaves a certain place in the Elvish kingdom. Tolkien tells us that "He never came there again, as a living man."

It’s the qualification on the end, that I like. It leaves the door open for him to come again, some time. Some how.

It was like I had pressed the fast-forward button on life on Thursday. Nothing since then has seemed real - everything has been in a haze. Its Jenny's birthday, and Jonny's in a week, too. I left my plug for the video camera in Kruger, or somewhere else, but thankfully I have the big battery with some charge left. I'll wear the same clothes many times this week. My good swim suit is in my lost bag and I'll have to get another one on vacation if they don't get my bag back to Joburg by Saturday, when I come through there on my way to Mauritius. I have two swimsuits, for crying out loud. I have way too much stuff.

I forgot to leave payment for the maid. I haven't read nearly as much as I had hoped to in preparation for this trip. I'm not really sure what exactly I remembered to pack and what I didn't. There's a faint wireless signal out here in the middle of the tarmac. I have a ticket to Cape Town but I'm not sure I'll be able to get there before I leave SA. David's looking for an apartment in NYC for us and will probably get one in the next couple of days, without me ever having seen it. When the project ends in April I have nothing else lined up besides a few weeks of training. My return flight is to SF and I don't have one back to NYC yet - I'm sick of buying plane tickets, I'm traveling about 50,000 miles in a single 30 day period.

These are my kind of problems. But I took this pro-bono project at large, and planned this week in particular, because there are other people with problems in the world too, and some of them in particular make my problems pale in comparison. It was time for me to focus on that for a change.

I'm sitting on a plane bound for Entebbe, and tomorrow morning I'll be on a bus north to Gulu. I'm going to northern Uganda to spend a week with the child soldier rescue / rehab camps there. If you don't know much about child soldiers, I hope you can learn a little this week about the very real, and very horrible scar on our generation's record that it is.

This is the beginning.

(Editor's note: the Uganda trip happened 2 weeks ago. I had little access to the internet to get posts up while there, and a lot of hand-scratch notes to type up that were taken when I was in the field anyway, and then last week I was off to Mauritius. I spent the time in Mauritius thinking over a lot of what I saw in Uganda. I'll be posting my blogs from the week in Uganda in present-tense form, this week, the way I wrote them. But in reality, I'm safely back in ZA for the next two weeks. Also, there will not be pictures with the Uganda post, for the time being, and the reason for that will play out in due measure.)

4.06.2008


Mauritius.

Have you ever spent an entire week not knowing what time it was?

I have.

I'm on the flight back to Johannesburg and I just asked my exit-row neighbor what the time difference was between Mauritius and Joburg. Turns out its +2 hours (which means we're an hour further east of Baghdad - the MS Windows clock lists +2:00 GMT as "Harare, Pretoria" and +3:00 GMT as Baghdad - which is the same as Kampala, and the rest of Uganda, coincidentally). Turns out that this is the first time in 7 days it became important enough for me to figure that out.

Those of you who are familiar enough with my thoughts on the subject of time will understand the subtle irony and rather expected casual nature of a week without time. It was glorious.

Sans time, I fell into very comfortable patterns. I spent the first two days or so in Grand Baie - a tourist town on the north-west corner of the island, staying in a small B&B of sorts that I found via internet. It was comfortable, and conveniently located next to most of the major commercial stuff, and a short bus ride from incredible snorkeling (most of MRU is surrounded by a continuing coral reef, which makes for the most endless and incredible flat lagoons with little or no current to swim against - hence you might find yourself a couple hundred yards from shore and still an easy swim back). BUT, there was no surfing to be had over the reefs on the northern side of the island, which was my primary goal for the vacation. So once that was deduced I promptly had my host drive me south down the western coast to Flic en Flac, a smallish beach town on the south-western coast. Caught a half-board hotel across the street from the white-sands beach there, and set up operations.

Day 1 (Monday), after dropping my crap in the room, I rented a motorbike and drove to parts further south, finding surfboard rentals in the next town over, the go-to spot for kite-surfing a few towns beyond that, and the most incredible, remote, all but uninhabited white beaches and blue surf beyond that. Beautiful lonesome breakers, some spots with regular 7-10 footers, probably never ridden, but for the fact that there's nobody else out there, and reefs of death should you not ride your wave with sufficient skill. Beautifully fearful.

I spent Tuesday morning refreshing myself on surfing techniques - it had been far too long. The next couple days were a series of chilling on the beach (mostly with Bryson's A Brief History of Nearly Everything, and surfing / snorkeling around F&F. Then it was Friday and I took another motorbike to parts south. It broke down on me, and after a pensive hour and a half on the side of a lonesome road on the southern coast of the island, they showed up with another bike for me, and I shot back north. I spent the afternoon / evening surfing in Tamarind as the sun set behind me. It was the most beautiful sunset I never watched.

Today I woke up and took the bike south again, but this time with the disposable camera (my digital was stolen on my last day in Uganda, at a taxi-stand in Kampala, if I didn't make mention of it yet - it had most of my pictures from the week in northern Uganda on it, but I'm at peace with that, strangely enough). I filled up the camera with pictures of the coast, the greenery, and a couple of myself to prove that I was actually here. Had a hot dog and a last swim across the street from the hotel, then packed and was off to the airport.

I said no more than 3 words to anyone in 7 days who was not either being paid to associate with me (waiters, vendors, hotel staff, taxi drivers, etc.) or attempting to be (namely the annoying jewelry vendors on the beach - no, I don't wear jewelry...no I don't have a girlfriend to buy it for...LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY...). It was an introvert's dream-come-true. Selfish, in some respects, but 168 straight hours of having no one to utter more than a few terse English words at but yourself? Heavenly.

The island is French-(well, really, Creole) speaking, which helped. Oh, and...note to self: if ever on what you've essentially planned as your honeymoon with your single self (novel idea, I know, but that is what this was), try to pick a slightly less European destination. There were a lot of bear female bosoms here, but only a couple of which were a pleasure to behold (mom would be glad to know). I think perhaps the more practical problem was the fact that I was on an island where so many couples come to escape. Before this plane left the ground, the kindly older lady to my right asked me where my girlfriend was. I politely lied "in the future."

I honestly wonder if I'm the first single American to visit this island - goodness knows I was a rarity in being an American here in the first place.

All in all, good trip. I'll land in JNB in a few hours, where I'll hopefully synch up with Sharon in the airport, and debrief on Uganda - she's very much to thank for that working out.

After that, I'm a resident of ZA for exactly 2 more weeks (literally, my flight to the states leaves the same hour 2 weeks from when this flight is due to touch down). I'll return to somewhere in CA (probably LA but that's TBD right now) for a bit, and then hopefully will be moving into an apartment in the West Village with DK come late April.

Its hard to believe its over. I know I'll be back, but still. Hard to believe.

Uganda will be the subject of blogging this week. Enjoy.

didn't get this up til Sunday night but it was written on the plane yesterday.

4.01.2008

In Mauritius.

Uganda was incredible and I'm working on typing up my notes from it. Produced a lot of good stuff.

Surfing during the day and sleeping a lot, for a change, during the night. After about a month of < 4 hours a night, this is a blessing.

Not much easy access to internet here so blogging will probably remain delayed until I return to ZA on Saturday.

Also, it occured to me today as I was sitting on my surfboard off the coast, over some low-surf coral, completely alone, that should something happen to me there wouldn't be many people come looking in a hurry. The thought that kicked off this one was remembering Brian when he took his few weeks of travel by himself at the end of his project - I'd get random text messages telling me where he was and if I didn't hear from him by EOD to alert the authorities. I haven't been doing that with anyone - but then there's not really anyone here to do it with. The surfing (et. al.) here is pretty remote, there simply aren't a lot of people around here, and I'm spending pretty much the whole week playing in the ocean, in some form or another.

So, if people aren't hearing from me by next week, start looking in Flic en Flac. Hotel Manisa.

3.22.2008

In LAX. Crazy week. Drove fast a lot.

Off to IAD. Then JNB. Hope to get in with enough time to make it to the evening service at church. Then off to Uganda.

Don't expect to blog much before Mauritius, if even by then.

But I will be writing.

3.20.2008


A few weeks before I last left Johannes- burg, a church I've been attending on Sunday evenings held a public forum of sorts, entitled "South Africa: Staying or Leaving?"

It was extremely well attended, if that tells you anything about the importance of the issue there, of late.

Emigration isn't a word you hear used a lot in the US. While immigration is a hot topic (one that even the presidential candidates must take position on), there simply isn't much focus on the opposite. Probably because there's not much reason to dwell on the possibility / idea of emigration - who would want to emigrate out of the US (although these words of mine may soon require a bit of adjusting, considering the economy of late)?

But emigration is a huge topic here. By some estimates, requests for it have risen over 400% in the last year alone in SA. If your not familiar with the reasons why, you can find them in this brief article. Speaking only as someone who's lived in ZA for the last 7 months or so, the article is pretty accurate. Storms are brewing there.

Enter the conference. The pastor gave some introductory notes:

1) Why are people wanting to leave South Africa? Four main reasons were cited:
- Rampant crime and the general fear of it
- Married people / parents worrying for their spouses' and childrens' safety, also white people having to worry if there will be jobs for their children, considering the pervasive affirmative action now in play
- ZA's shaky economic outlook
- ZA's perhaps-even-more-prominent shaky political outlook - while many people are appalled with Zuma's election to president of the ANC, it doesn't as of yet look as though there's much that will stop him from ruling the country come next year.

The pastor at this point stopped to recognize the fact that everyone has to draw the line somewhere on how much they are willing to stay and endure, the question is just where do you draw that line.

2) What does the Bible have to say about where we should live? The answer is: very little. Scripture is more primarily focused on how and why we should live, than it is where. References:
- Genesis 12:1 - the first big move (God prompts Abram)
- Ruth 1:1 - Elimelech's move due to famine (Ruth's father-in-law)
- Matthew 2:13-15 - Jesus' own family's emigration from the promise land, to escape persecution (they return in 2:19)
- Acts 8:1 - the church persecuted and scattered, but those who stayed and those who left kept on preaching the gospel
- Acts 18:1-3: Priscilla and Aquilla - wealthy early Christians with homes mentioned in Corinth, Ephesus, and also Rome (see Romans 16:3).

3) What is the church's position? Overall, the position was to encourage people to stay in ZA, but more importantly the church wanted to stress that staying vs. leaving is not the central issue - the main focus should be on how and why you live.

After the introductory notes, a panel was asked on stage, consisting of a white man who had emigrated (somewhat ironically, I thought) to Zimbabwe with his family, a white couple from Zimbabwe that had decided to stay there, and a black mother of a family that had decided to stay in ZA. They all had interesting stories, especially the couple from Zimbabwe.

They had built a farm there in the 90's, raised their kids, and were employing a large number of local people on their farm (ostrich, cattle, sheep, also a shoe factory and clothing factory for both local sale and export, that they operated there, on their farm). Then, in the (government-supported) riots of 2003, one night their house was surrounded, and by the next morning - when they could get police escort to the local magistrate, they were told by the magistrate that they had one hour to take what they could from the house, which they no longer owned, on the farm that was no longer theirs. When they got back, all of their livestock was gone, and most of the property that hadn't been stolen had been ransacked. The new "owner" was there to dictate to the police escorts which items they could and could not take with them. And then they had nothing.

Fortunately they had the support of their local church to get them back on their feet, but it was quite fascinating to hear from a family that went through this, considered leaving, and then realized that they couldn't escape suffering in this life, and felt called to stay in Zimbabwe (they are still living there now, rebuilding their lives, farming, and trying to create more jobs for the locals).

Anyway, here are a few of my other random notes from that part of the night:
- When you give people jobs, you a) inherently give them a manner of dignity, and b) earn the right to influence them, to get involved in their lives. Supplying people with employment can be a powerful means of community building and eventually witness as well.
- The safest place in the world is to be in God's will. (I heard something similar on the first Sunday I went to the Every Nation's church I've since been attending on Sunday mornings in Joburg - the pastor said that if ZA is where God wants him and his family to be, there is no safer place for them in the world.)
- The Zimbabwe couple considered moving to Australia for a while, a place where some of their emigrating white friends had moved. What they saw there, however, was a life so easy to live that you "don't need God anymore." That was a fascinating and deeply convicting statement.

The pastor closed out the evening with 3 key principles from Scripture:
1) The Sovereignty of God
- Romans 8:28: "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.") - while the verse is not for everyone, He yet works in all things for his children, for their good (the good, which is contained in v29).
- God's ultimate concern is not our comfort but our conformity to Christ. And nothing can separate us from His love (v37-39).
- Ps. 139: "...all the days ordained for me" - Christians are immortal until called home by God. Until that point: untouchable.

2) The Lie of Emigration
- People hate the insecurity and crime and politics with good reason, however there is no safety on this side of Eden. Sin and Satan are no less active in Melbourne than they are in Midrand, or Manhattan for that matter. You can move anywhere and serve God, but don't think that you can escape suffering.
- (Herein I was reminded instantly of the message behind M. Night Shyamalan's The Village, and also the quote on suffering that I will close this blog post with.)
- The only safety and security to be found on this earth is with Christ. And with Christ, there is suffering.

3) The Wasted Life
- Ease and comfort can never be a purpose for living - they are only a recipe for tragedy. We are made for a purpose beyond comfort: wherever you live you must make a difference for Christ.
- The Bible does not give us guidance on where to live. A story by John Piper was then quoted which I will semi-quote / paraphrase from sources I found online:
...and then, as many of you know, Ruby Eliason and Laura Edwards died this week in Cameroon in a car accident - Ruby in her eighties and Laura in her seventies. Ruby gave all her life in medical missions among the poor. Laura, a doctor who practiced in India for many years and then here in the Cities, was giving her retirement for the bodies and the souls of the poor in Cameroon. Both died suddenly when their car went over a cliff.

Was that a tragedy? Well, in one sense all death is tragic.

[But] I will tell you what a tragedy is. I will show you how to waste your life. Consider this story from the February 1998 Reader’s Digest: A couple ‘took early retirement from their jobs in the Northeast five years ago when he was 59 and she was 51. Now they live in Punta Gorda, Florida, where they cruise on their 30-foot trawler, play softball and collect shells...’ Picture them before Christ at the great day of judgment: ‘Look, Lord. See my shells.’ That is a tragedy.


- The purpose of life is not self-fulfillment but self-forgetfulness. As Jesus said, "Whoever wants to save his life will lose it..."
- One person can change the world, you don't have to be a Nelson Mandela or a William Wilberforce, you need only follow Christ

For those of you who aren't already aware, I'm seriously considering the possibility of staying in South Africa on a more long-term basis. I won't yet say "permanent" - and the US will always be "home" to me - but it is something I on my mind. I'm searching for discernment on the issue, but I feel that being there might help me stay in better touch with the contacts I have made / am making in the relief and development sector, where I would like to be working, long term, in Africa.

I remain realistic and alert and try to be wise on the issue of where I should live. But at the end of the day, I am immortal until I'm not supposed to be anymore, and where is not as big an issue as why.

At the onset of the disease...most of our brother Christians showed unbounded love and loyalty, never sparing themselves and thinking only of one another. Heedless of danger, they took charge of the sick. Attending to their every need and ministering to them in Christ, and with them departed this life serenely happy; for they were infected by others with the disease, drawing on themselves – the sickness of their neighbors and cheerfully accepting their pains. Many, in nursing and curing others transferred their death to themselves, and died in their stead... – Rodney Stark, The Rise of Christianity

3.19.2008


Gaze upon its beauty, and fall before it in your terror.

I have acted foolishly this week, and disregarded the apostle's wisdom and guidance to flee temptation. Nay, I have sat down in the midst of temptation, time and again, and stomped upon her gas pedal of power, pushing dangerously close to and perhaps slightly exceeding the speed limitations of the various counties of the greater Los Angeles area that I have traversed these last few days.

I'm pretty sure I've avoided breaking the tenth commandment, because this is Hertz's car, and since technically I'm paying them to rent it, if I envy it, its kind of like coveting something I actually own myself, which really isn't coveting at all. Right?

I'm not sure I can say the same for the deadly sin of lust, however. To look at this car is to lust for speed.

This car. Just...wow. On the drive back to the hotel each night I have a very real and very serious struggle with the idea of just driving past my exit on the 10 East, and taking it to the 15, and seeing Vegas for the evening. But there is work to be done the next morning. Except for Friday, which is a South African holiday, which means I get the day off, which means that Thursday night...

The grinch had a wonderful, awful idea!

So anyway yeah...I've never driven such a small car with so much horsepower. I've been thinking for a while now that I want my next car to be a project car - a late-60's mustang I can re-work. But now...now I just want pure unadulterated Japanese speed.

In black, please.

(Slingshot...engaged.)

3.18.2008

OK so I'm in LA. For a bit.

I got my shower in LHR. Turned out to be a lot easier than I thought - premier exec status on United gets you lounge acess when flying international. Go me.

Flights were still long but Peter was waiting for me in SFO in his uniform, which was kinda cool, cause I was on the phone fighting with Sprint to get my super-discounted plan re-set-up, and he took my luggage cart, which made me look like someone super-important, with a military-looking escort to push my crap around.

Hung out with Peter that afternoon / evening, we got drinks with his boss, John the Harbormastor, which is always fun. Then Friday morning I took the train up to Sac, and worked from there. Mom made meatloaf that night because she loves me.

Saturday we drove off to Yuba City to see Joey's lacrosse game. I was surprised to see that he was the biggest kid on his team. I guess it makes sense cause he's huge, but still. He's fairly new to the game but he's already pretty decent. I sat on the bench for a bit as older-brother-who-knows-a-few-tricks-to-the-game. One of his teammates was an about 4'11" kid who got trampled in one play and then came out of the game (all pissed off) for trying to start a fight in response to the trampling. I explained to him how to casually walk next to the opponent, push his elbow from his side, and deposit the butt of his staff into the kidney of said trampler. Etc.
Joey enjoyed that, but he's too nice to ever do it himself. I'm not sure anyone on the opposing team would be brave enough to piss him off anyhow. Not that they could.

Anyway, they had a local dad as the only ref, which was complete BS, so the game was totally slanted. The home team would have won anyway, but he seemed hell-bent on giving them all the help he could. I have a nasty word for people like that which I will not use.

Lunch with the fam and grandparents, who also came down for the game, then tacos at home for dinner. Mom loves me.

Interesting evening which culminated with me shaving my beard to a very short length while I was not really in my right mind at about 5 in the morning before Joey and I shot off to the airport.

Then I was in LA. Afternoon/evening prep meetings for our presentations which began this morning, with WV's Exec Board Advisory Group. Re: presentations: I always freak out a very little bit right before go-time, but then I end up kicking arse. Anyway it was cool to see the work I've done in stark relief, and have people actually appreciate it.

ALSO...

Hertz hooked me up with a 350Z.

You probably don't know what that is, but it deserves its own blog post in and of itself. Suffice to say that if this car does not send me to jail before I leave on Saturday, self control is a fruit of the spirit that I have in spades.

3.12.2008

OK so work is crazy and tomorrow night I enter a period of roughly 30 hours that will be spent either on a plane or in an airport. Which I am not looking forward to. But I have done detailed research on LHR and come to the tentative conclusion that I can get a shower there w/o needing to drop dime on the red carpet club. So that's something. I'm pretty much packed and am taking home a bag of stuff to get a head-start on the moving-back-to-the-US, and at the same time I'm still not entirely sure that's the plan - just today I talked with another SE in the practice here who told me they're way oversold and could desperately use me...so...who knows.

I'll try to throw a post about something up tomorrow, maybe a story time for the road. After that, don't expect a blog before Friday, if at all, I suppose. I'm in NorCal for the start of the weekend and have a week in LA after that, and I gonna be bizy.

In the meantime, here's some stuff I've been writing, elsewhere.

My flame-out over at Fab Females. Suffice to say I'm taking a break.

A comment I just kind of cranked out on poverty here in Africa. Remember that story about the dogs on the roof of Macy's from a couple months back? How it got side-barred? Well, this one did too, and it sparked a good deal of conversation, which was pretty cool. I've had a lot of good email convos stemming from it as well, and its kind of got me pumped up to really capture my upcoming Uganda trip in true amateur journalistic style.

Some other stuff from Metafilter writings of mine:

A bit about what being a Christian is about. Wrote this one a few days after the poverty comment, and it also got over 200 favorites, and started a whole bunch of emails, which was also cool. And encouraging. I've wanted to share my point of view on faith with the (largely atheist/agnostic) MeFi community for a while, and this is about as close as I've ever come to doing it half-well. Sadly, it had to be on a deleted thread, but I'm pretty sure that's the most favorites any comment on a deleted thread ever got.

Reading for the exact center.

Things we squished on the train tracks growing up.

My requiem for a fashion industry. I wrote this one back during fashion week. Words can not express how glad I was to not be in NYC during fashion week. I do not miss that life.

The eventual destruction of private life.

3.09.2008

0-for-3, so that's a strike-out for this week. It was a crazy week. Zambia is crazy.

Anywhere in Africa is crazy, but I've been pretty blessed to be based in the one country in sub-saharan that's not too dissimilar from a European feel. You go elsewhere - Moz, Zim, Zambia...and at best, things are just plain crazy. A different approach to business, a different methodology on time, just different ways of living, here in Africa. Surprise.

Anyway, the week was a bunch of moved-around meetings and some that didn't end up happening, and some unexpected ones that did end up happening. The team there is a group of really wonderfully awesome people and it was sad leaving them not knowing when or if I would return. It reminded me, as other experiences on this trip have, of one of my favorite parts of the Lord of The Ring, when Aragorn and Frodo are leaving the heart of Elvendom: "...he left the hill of Cerin Amroth and came there never again as living man." I like the qualification on the end.

So yeah, today was the flight back to ZA, and after I dropped Tracy off I came to the office to catch up on time reports and emails and...booking flights to Uganda.

March 24th I'm headed to Northern Uganda to spend a week volunteering with the child soldier rescue camps there that World Vision has been operating there. There has been (thank God) a shift in the work there lately following the rather recent and relative peace in the north, but I've been told to still expect to get a full picture of the issues in a place that has seen such horrible contact for such a long time.

For those of you who might not be aware, the previous paragraph is pretty much the first actualization of a life-dream that was first sparked in my soul some years ago, and I'm pretty much in complete disbelief that its actually going to happen. Its only one week, and I have no idea what kind of future doors it might open, if any, but if it is all I can ever do to help, it will be something. Somehow, though, I still kind of hope it will just be another beginning. Its only one small place in this massive continent where this horrible problem is still a very real thing.

I'm hoping to make it a bit of a journalistic endeavor, which will be a matter of a significant amount of after-hours research over the next couple of weeks, combined with really kicking my writing into gear for that week. Its something I want to draw attention to (the situation, not my involvement) and while it's all rather amorphous at the moment, I've got a few ideas in mind...so stay tuned.

3.04.2008


So yeah. Today I was a speaker. I spoke, and everything. Ahoy.

The Council of Supply Chain Management Professionals (CSCMP) is basically one of the leading consortiums of...well...SCM Professionals...in the industry.

Today and tomorrow they're having their Southern Africa 2008 conference, and today I had the honor of presenting, along with my client lead, on Humanitarian Supply Chain Management in Africa. From the program:

The provision of humanitarian aid is fraught with significant challenges including hunger, infectious diseases, lack of sanitation and clean water, political conflict and crises as well as natural disasters such as tsunamis, earthquakes, flooding, and devastating fires. One common thread throughout all of these challenges is the need for efficient supply chains...etc..

Suffice to say that my client, World Vision's Global Supply Chain Management Director, as well as the speaker that followed me, the CEO for Pharmaceutical Healthcare Distributors (one of the main orgs delivering the meds sponsored by PEPFAR - the President's Emergency Plan for Aids Relief), were much more experienced presenters than myself. So, in essence, I was the young, inexperienced, American creamy filling to their older, highly knowledgable, African Oreo cookie. Except they are both white gentlemen as well. But man could they command a crowd. They both said I did well but I hate standing in front of that many people. I need a few more years under my belt to get as conversational as they were in that environment.

But, it was an awesome opportunity and I do think a few tidbits of industry-specific knowledge may have actually spewed from my lips in the course of my blatherings. Anyway, great opportunity. My name in print and all that. Straight to the CV with that action.

After that I ran over to JNB and now I'm typing from Zambia, where I am for the week for work. My cell here is 0966-481298. There might be a country code needed there. Not that it matters. No one ever calls you in Africa.

Besides work this week, I hope to a) read, and b) blog. Here's what's on the docket:

- Retro-blogging my first trip to Zambia (irony, much?)
- Storytime - the best worst day of my life (yeah, the one I didn't get to last week)
- A recap on the story I recently wrote on Zimbabwe, which gained me more mild internet fame
- Maybe something else but frankly I doubt it

Happy March everybuddy.