Le Pays des Milles Collines

Last Sunday I said goodbye to Kampala and my wonderful huge host family, and our group headed off on a long bumpy roadtrip south to Rwanda. On our drive down, we stopped over in Mbarara (say that 5x fast) for a couple of days in order to visit a Rwandan refugee settlement.
The Orchinga Refugee Settlement was originally founded by Tutsi refugees fleeing the revolution in Rwanda in 1959. It was pretty much a Tutsi settlement through the genocide in 1994, when there was a demographic reversal: Hutu refugees fled Rwanda and Tutsi returned home. At its peak in '94-'95, Orchinga had over 7,000 inhabitants. As of now, there are around 2,000 refugees living in the settlement--notice that I did not say "camp." Orchinga covers several square miles and looks like your standard African rural village. In fact, the settlement is very much a part of the area, fully integrated with the local economy and surrounding villages.
However, they are still refugees, thus "protected" under international laws and conventions and catered to by many well-meaning international NGOs. I think you can sense a little cynicism on my part concerning international refugee law and the UN refugee policies, in particular the forced encampment policy. In my humble opinion, forcing refugees to stay in camps near the border illegally restricts their movements, makes them totally dependent on outside aid, just so they (they= the host goverment, UNHCR, and a plethora of NGOs) can a) keep track of them and b) take pictures of them so they can guilt Western donors into supporting what is essentially an unsustainable and dehumanizing system. Ok, so that's my blurb on intl refugee policies...
Anyway, that is not to dismiss the situation of the Rwandan refugees in Uganda. They have been living at the settlement for over 10 years and are still afraid to return to Rwanda, where they fear retribution simply because they are Hutu and will be assumed to be "genocidaires." The ones I spoke to decried their innocence, but cited ongoing incidents of violence against Hutus. They get information about these incidents from other Hutu refugees, some are new arrivals and others tried to return home but came right back. They emphasized that security was their primary concern, but it became clear over the course of the conversation that they are also very concerned about their property. Many of them lost their land by fleeing and they don't really want to return and deal with that, when they can just stay at the settlement on the plot of land they were given. In fact, most of them said that they had no real desire to return to Rwanda at all!
In addition, many of the refugees talked about the problems with Gacaca, a traditional justice system that the Rwandan government revamped to deal with genocide-related crimes (in the regular system, trials for all those accused would have been backlogged for over a hundred years). The refugees complained that many people were forced into false confessions, and that others give false testimony if they have a grudge against someone... The Hutu refugees
have no faith in the current justice system, especially since it doesn't take into account crimes committed by the RPF (Rwandan Patriotic Front) against Hutus during the civil war. In addition, they fear the current government under President Kagame (who headed the RPF and essentially stopped the genocide) because they believe he wants to eliminate all Hutus and that he will continue to manipulate the political system until he does (Kagame won the elections in 2003 with 95% of the vote... Suspicious much?).
Anyway I was pretty suspicious of most of the refugees claims, especially their claims of continued mass killings and raids on villages. They seemed rather savvy about the international system and even specifically requested that we send Human Rights Watch (by name!) to come interview them so that the truth could be told. I'm sure that some of the stories are true, but it also seems like their stories have been hyperbolized and perfected to appeal to the international community, so they can continue to get support from UNHCR and NGOs. I mulled over this on the very bumpy ride back into Mbarara, 40km that took 2 hours... And continued to think about their stories the following day as we drove the long and winding mountainous road into the country of the thousand hills...

Kony Update

So after nearly 20 years, the enigmatic Kony granted BBC an interview (see link) and claims he's not guilty of any war crimes. Riiiight. All those kids made up their stories and they all secretely work for the Museveni regime.
Anyway, looks like the International Criminal Court (ICC) indictments have made Kony and his followers a little nervous--now the LRA is requesting peace talks and Kony is decrying his innocence. This interesting shift in the rhetoric and dynamics of the conflict was initiated in April when the government of Southern Sudan decided to intervene more directly and mediate some peace talks, not only between the Sudan and the LRA (who you will remember often use the Sudan as a training ground, raiding local villages and disturbing the fragile peace there along the way), but also between the LRA and the Ugandan government. While most people don't necessarily think of the Sudanese as the best people to be mediating conflict (*cough* Darfur *cough*), it seems to me that this is the closest Uganda has ever come to a peaceful resolution of the conflict. I guess I should have prefaced that by saying that I personally don't think that a military solution is viable in this case. While an Angola-style assassination of Kony and the rest of the LRA commanders seems like a great idea, it's just not that simple... Anyway, I think this whole situation needs to be handled very carefully and with minimal outside intervention. Yes the ICC indictment has been helpful, but it's not going to end the conflict on its own, and further Western meddling will probably just aggravate the situation (esp since the ICC is such a political and controversial institution).
Ok, enough political rambling from me... But if you're interested, please do read up on the situation and feel free to challenge me on any of my opinions :)

Lukewarm beer and ice-cold showers

Oh yes, warm beer... You see, the power supply is so sporadic and inconsistent in Uganda that no matter how long your beer is sitting in the fridge, it's likely never to get really cold. Then again, it seems like some people here enjoy drinking beer at room temperature, since oftentimes you have to specify whether you want a warm or cold (aka lukewarm) beverage. Oh well, it's still bubbly and refreshing--and at least it's safe to drink, unlike the water.
And as for the water, well water heaters require electricity, right? So I haven't had a proper hot shower in nearly a month. Yes, even when I was staying with the MP (the Hon. Charles Angiro) and his family, there was no hot water. It's ok though because I have now perfected the art of the 3-minute shower, which is quite a feat (as those of you who have lived with me know). Not that it matters much, since we just smell like "Eau de Mosquito Repellent" all the time.
Anyway, despite ice-cold showers at my homestay, I was lucky to have a shower and a flush-toilet (a real luxury here). In other homestays, some of my colleagues were stuck with washing buckets and pit latrines. I also got lucky in other aspects of my homestay as well. The family was so warm and welcoming, it was impossible not to feel instantly at home. The huge meals also eased me right in :) Just like in South Africa, being "fat" is a good thing in Uganda. Clearly, I was not "fat" enough and was constantly urged to reserve myself huge portions of the carb-rich meals--think potatoes, mashed plantain (called matoke), and rice, with a side of beans and pasta. However, this dinner took place at around 10pm, and was preceded by "tea" at around 8pm, which consisted of bread, some more bread, and African tea. Yes, in Uganda, most people tend to eat 4 big meals a day, but most of people look tall and thin. The new South Beach diet? Not exactly...
Anyway, the World Cup fervor also helped with the homestay family bonding. I was staying with a huge family of mostly boys, and the TV was constantly showing either games or highlights of previous games (at least when the power was working). Since I mentioned that the family was so big, maybe I should explain a little bit. You see, Charles and his wife Helen (who lives in Kampala only part-time bc of business) have 9 children of their own. However, all of their kids are grown up and living on their own, though a couple are settled in the neighborhood. Since their house was empty, they have opened it up, taking the African traditionally extended family to a whole new level. So now, instead of having their own kids at home, they have the children of distant cousins staying with them (actually some of the kids are not even relatives at all). Most of the kids were affected by the conflict and some were staying in the IDPCs until Charles basically rescued them, so they could be safe and go to school in Kampala. While I was staying at the house, there were 14 children (4 girls, 10 boys) staying there are well, aged between 3-22... and apparently this number fluctuates regularly, as we had 2 additional people just sort of randomly appear one afternoon. It was a great vibe, but at first a lot of the kids were really shy around me. The skin color/language barrier was quickly overcome though when I brought home a soccer ball and kicked it around with them in the yard, telling them to practice a lot so that one day Uganda could make it to the World Cup Finals.
So the lesson learned here? As many people have said before me, football in general, and the World Cup in particular, is truly a way to bring the world together (except in the USA, but we're too cool for that, right?). Oh le oh le oh le oh le!!

20,000 living victims

As difficult as it was to be in the IDPC and witness the everyday struggles for life in Northern Uganda, the camp was nothing compared to my experience yesterday, when we went to a rehabilitation center for former child soldiers.
The worst part about the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) is their use of child soldiers. Kids as young as 5 have been abducted, indoctrinated, and forced to commit the most horrific atrocities you can imagine. When we first met the group of 53 children at the center, we spent a lot of time introducing ourselves, explaining what we were doing, and answering questions about the USA (such as: are there green people there? is Tupac still alive? how many clans are there in America? is it true that you put your old people away and then burn their bodies when they die?--yes retirement homes and cremation do sound weird when put that way). Afterwards, having set up a comfortable space (though unfortunately working through translators, most of the kids only speak Acholi), some of them shared their stories with us, and I feel it my duty to share them with you...
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Felix is now 16 years old. He was abducted from his home at age 12 in the middle of the night, along with his brother and several other children from his village. He was tied to the other other children with a thick rope and they were marched at gunpoint through the bush in the dark. That first day, Felix was forced to beat his own brother to death with a large stick. Later on, he was also forced to cut off the ears and lips of other boys who tried to escape. Sometimes, they made him puncture boys' lips and put a lock through their mouths, to make sure they literally kept their mouths shut about their experience of abduction. The LRA commanders made him carry extremely heavy loads over long distances. He didn't have shoes and the soles of his feet were cut up and bloodied. Once, they made him kill a man, cut up the dead body, and cook an eat part of it. After 7 months in captivity, Felix managed to escape. He is now the head boy at the rehabilitation center.
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Bosco is only 14 years old. He was abducted at age 10 and forced to kill many people. He was treated mercilessly and was marched to the Sudan to receive training. Many times on that walk, the rebels threatened to kill him because he kept collapsing from lack of water, food, and sleep. He was abandoned in the bush on one of those walks. He drank his own urine to survive. The boy he was with died a few days later, but Bosco survived. He was recaptured by the rebels and kept for over 3 years, and only escaped because a Ugandan soldier shot him in the leg and the rebels abandoned him. He has permanent nerve damage to his leg and will have a limp for the rest of his life...
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David was abducted at age 10, having escaped from 7 other attempted abductions. He was kept for 10 years, 6 of which were in the Sudan. He raided local villages for food and supplies, helped abduct other children, killed countless people, attacked refugee camps, and was promoted several times. A few months ago, he was caught in an ambush, got shot in the right leg, and was also abandoned... He left his right leg out there in the bush, but managed to survive the injury and crawl to freedom.
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Margaret is a 20 yr old woman who was abducted at age 10, and used as a virginal sex slave for the LRA commanders. Early on, she was forced to kill a man with a group of other girl captives. They made her march hundreds of miles and almost died of hunger several times. Her clothes were worn to shreds and she was forced walked around naked for a while. She raped countless times by many LRA commanders. Now, she has a 2 year old son, Onek, and she is pregnant with her second child. She escaped only 2 months ago.
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And these are only samples, little tibits from the lucky ones who managed to escape... It is estimated that over 20,000 children have been abducted by the LRA over the years.
...So while Joseph Kony may be insane, he is also extremely smart. He targets young, malleable kids, destroys their social ties by forcing them to commit atrocities against their own family members, terrorizes them so much they fear to escape, nearly starves them so they are completely dependent on the LRA's mercy, and brainwashes them with harsh military training in a foreign country (mainly the Sudan). I'm sure many of you are horrified by the above stories. But they are not just stories, these are the lives and real experiences of CHILDREN. Though many may also be thinking, "I could never do those things," how can we so easily deny these children their humanity? They are victims, they were forced, they were tortured. If any of us were in that situation at that age, we would have done the same thing. In any case, the Rachele rehabilitation center does an absolutely amazing job (cehck it out: http://www.childsoldiers.net/xcms/lang__en/4656/default.aspx), and these kids are the definition of resilience. After our looong talking session, we spent about an hour playing volleyball and soccer with the children... And guess what? They were kids all over again. They weren't victims, or murderers, or soldiers, or suvivors. They were just kids, squealing and laughing, kicking a ball around in the red dust.
(see link below for pics)

That man, Joseph Kony

Kony is insane; Kony thinks he's the Messiah; Kony has 100 wives; Kony is a cannibal; Kony wants to free Acholi-Land; Kony is a homicidal maniac; Kony wants to create a govt based on the 10 Commandements... There are many rumors about this elusive and mysterious man, Joseph Kony, the rebel leader of the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) that has wreaked havoc across Northern Uganda for 20 years. The product of a historical divide between Northern and Southern Uganda, ethnic rivalries, and tumultuous post-colonial politics (wow, way to reduce decades of history and a complex geopolitical situation to 3 clauses), the LRA was formed some 20 years ago in an effort to overthrow the new government of Yoweri Museveni (he came to power in '86 and is still the current president... way to go "democracy"!). However, what began as a political movement with some strong religious overtones (originally founded by Alice Lakwena and called the Holy Spirit Mvt) morphed over the years into a rebel movement of unspeakable violence and brutality. This conflict has raged on for 2 decades, with little to no attention from the international community, despite displacing nearly 2 million people, causing the deaths of hundreds of thousands of civilians, stoking conflict in neighboring countries, and causing general regional instability.

I have just returned from a week in Lira, a district in the conflict zone in Northern Uganda... What I saw and heard over the past few days has not only changed my views of the conflict and the possible ways forward, but also of how I view conflict in general. For the first time in my life, I visited an Internally Displaced Persons camp (IDPC). IDPs are basically refugees, but since they do not cross intl borders, they do not have the same rights, privileges, and protection as refugees. While the UN did pass a special protocol for IDPs, they still do not get the same kind of attention and support that they need. Indeed, the situation in Northern Uganda was called the most neglected humanitarian crisis in the world by the UN Head of Humanitarian Affairs, Jan Egeland. I visited the Barr camp, which has nearly 50,000 people living in it. It did not look like the kind of refugee camp you see on CNN. Rather, it looked like a terribly congested rural village, with thousands of small mud huts squeezed together. The settlement is almost semi-permanent since most people have been there for 4 years. Yeah, 4 years. And this is a recent camp, the product of the conflict surging again in 2002/2003. Many camps further North have housed displaced people for over a decade.
I had the opportunity to speak to many people, and sat down and interviewed a group of women in the camp, many of them single heads of households with several dependants, including vulnerables such a infants, sick people, and elderly family members. They struggle for food every day, and can barely access basic necessities like water, clothing, sanitary towels etc... Rats eat their medicine, and they don't have any farming equipment to grow their own small crops. Diseases like cholera and malaria are common, and fires can quickly sweep across the camp, destroying the few possessions they have left.
Yes, of course there are many NGOs operating in the camp, such as the World Food Program and the Christian Children's Fund, but all the NGOs are gradually phasing down their activities in the camp, due to funding constraints (aka donor fatigue) and the belief that people should begin returning to their villages because it is "safer" now. (Actually I'm totally rethinking the role/usefulness/wisdom of NGO relief work... Seems like sometimes they just perpetuate the problems... More on that later) Anyway it is indeed safer now, especially in the Lira District, but people are scared to go home, terrified of being killed or abducted. Even though many people have gradually begun returning home, their villages have been destroyed, torched and looted by rebels and the military alike. Even once people settle back home, they are extremely fearful of nighttime raids and attacks... Rumors spread quickly about "that man, Kony," and one accidental gunshot can send everyone fleeing back to the protected camps. So as long as peace and security cannot be guaranteed, these people will still be homeless and stranded within their own country, ignored by their government and forgotten by the rest of the world...

If you want more basic information about the conflict, check out the BBC link below...

From the dusty streets of Kampala

Seems like there's so much to say about Uganda, and so much I want to try to share with you all... Unfortunately, I thought I knew what I was getting into from reading, documentaries, etc, but nothing can actually prepare you for what it's like on the ground in a poor, developing country like Uganda that has been struggling with civil and regional conflict and under quasi-dictatorial rule for about 20 years.

Kampala is a bustling city to say the least... Endless swarms of people around, who endlessly stare at a muzungu like me. It's absolutely not threatening, in fact Kampala in many ways feels safer than parts of Cape Town. You don't see the same kind of polarized wealth that is so prevalent in South Africa... In Uganda, everyone is poor. Yes, there are definitely degrees of poverty, but I'm staying with a member of Parliament, and let me just say that a US senator would not last 5 minutes in his house (more on that to follow, but it's just been 24 hours so I need some more time to process all this).
Anyway, back to Kampala. The city is actually quite lovely in terms of climate and the location on Lake Victoria, but it's crumbling--not that it was ever really properly built. Most of the roads in the city center are paved, but there are potholes the size of lunar craters every other meter, and the streets are totally lawless. Traffic laws don't really seem to exist, and there are no traffic lights and few street signs. Minibus taxis jockey for the best positions on the main roads and little 'boda boda' motorcycles precariously weave through traffic, picking up passengers along the way. Others load up their bicycles with goods and sometimes kids, and try to make their way over the 14 hills that Kampala spreads over. Pedestrians must wait for traffic--not the other way around, and as I explained earlier, crossing the street is a long process. I've adjusted by crossing with the locals, who seem to have an innate sense of how not to die when scrambling across these busy streets. Also remember to watch for open manholes and barbed wire along the way ;)
Otherwise the streets of Kampala are busy with commerce. There's a panoply of storefronts selling seemingly unrelated wares like irons, shoes, wooden furniture, second-hand refridgerators, and "African" crafts. Private security guards sit in front of many stores, casually sitting in the shade with assault rifles across their laps. The guns wouldn't creep me out so much if the guards weren't younger than me and seemingly napping in shade during the hot afternoon hours. Yeah, exactly. Between security guards, the streets are lined with homeless people and street children, most of them refugees from the North, where the conflict still flares. Some of them try to make a little money selling newspapers and cigarettes on the sidewalk, but others are so desperate and sick that they can't do much more than lie there... It's impossible to not feel for them, but we were told that we shouldn't give them money. This is probably the biggest challenge I have faced-- how can I walk by a baby and her young mother when you realize, after a brief glance, that the mother's leg was chopped off? Or an old man with no hands?
But I guess that's why I'm here, studying peace and conflict in this context... The program is about experiential learning, and the academic part really just puts everything in context so we understand what we're seeing and experiencing everyday. Plus I feel like I'm actually contributing to something since we will be working with various NGOs in the different places we travel to as a group...
Anyway I'm going to head back to the "compound" now to share the evening with my new (huge) Ugandan family... and to shower. The soil here is a fine red clay, and during the dry season, red dust covers everything. All the Africans look prim and proper, but us muzungus, with our pale skin, definitely look more disheveled. You don't really feel or look dirty (actually I thought I was tan) until you bathe and the drain water is brown. Lovely, I know.

(For a visual of the above descriptions, check out my pics from Uganda at the link below, or check out this gorgeous photo gallery of Kampala and the surrounding region: http://www.pbase.com/danfung/uganda)

Greetings from Uganda

Hey everyone!
I'll have to keep this one short, bc electrical problems make a constant power supply impossible in Uganda... Ah, feels like Zimbabwe all over again :)
So anyway, hello from Kampala! I'm sitting at a tiny internet cafe, where I paid about 800 Ugandan shillings for an hour of internet (about 50c). Nearly as overpriced as my $1 beers last night. Crazy.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know that I'm alive and well and enjoying my time in Uganda so far... It's only been 3 days, but I already feel like my 3 weeks here are short-changing this vibrant, bustling, humid, dusty city, where everytime you cross the street your life literally flashes before your eyes. But it's ok, because there are probably about 200,000 people also crossing the street with you, so the minibus drivers and motorcycles have a lower chance of hitting me. There are about 2 million people in Kampala, and they ALL are always out wandering the streets it seems.
Anyway, even though I clearly stand out as white, a "muzungu," and get many stares and hellos from the locals, they are possibly the warmest friendliest people I have ever encountered. When you ask for directions, they don't bother giving you verbal directions, they actually walk you where you need to go. Yeah, try that on Madison Ave.
Anyway I'm off to further adventures in the city, more from me soon-ish...

By the way, I graduated

Yes indeed! After 4 years, it's the end of my illustrious college career (as of 2 days ago). I can't quite believe that I'm a certified, diploma-carrying alumunae (cum laude) of Smith College, finally joining the ranks of notable alums like Margaret Mitchell, Betty Friedan, Gloria Steinem, Barbara Bush, Nancy Reagan, Julia Child, Rochelle Lazarus, and of course our Commencement speaker, Rep. Jane Lakes Harman.
But even though I'm in denial, the pictures prove it...







Now if only I had a job... 

Ron y revolucion

This is a long overdue update, but, as usual, life has been hectic. I really should stop opening my updates with excuses... Anyway, as many of you know, I took off to Cuba for spring break with Jacqueline--yes the same travel buddy of Grecian notoriety. I won't bother with a blow by blow of our trip, but I would like to share some thoughts and observations about Cuba, a place that is still misunderstood and misrepresented in the West.
The propaganda immediately greets you on ride from Havana's Jose Marti airport into downtown. Giant billboards of Castro with big red lettering "VAMOS BIEN," anti-Bush posters, and graffiti murals extoling the glory of la revolucion or Che Guevara (el Che has been dead for nearly 40 years, but he's still totally idolized).
At first glance downtown Havana felt and looked a bit like a postcard from the 1950s, esp on the Malecon, the long avenue that runs along the waterfront: bright colored old chevys and lots of people stolling around in the warm sunshine. But after a day, the truer picture emerged: one of underdevelopment and decay.
Habana vieja, the old city center, has been renovated and completely redone as part of the investment in tourism infrastructure. But the residential neighborhood right next door, Centro Habana, is quite literally crumbling. People walk in the middle of the streets to avoid the chunks plaster that fall off building facades and the debris that litters the sidewalks. However this part of la Habana has a musical pulse, with music from different radio stations pouring out the windows and old men sitting on street corners with guitars on their laps. In fact, most of Cuba felt that way, and we had the privilege of seeing some of the world-renowed Buena Vista Social Club perform at the glorious old Hotel Nacional.
However, despite the constant upbeat musical soundtrack, I felt little joy or hope in Cuba. Cubans it seems have given up and are just trying to get by day to day. After 47 years under Fidel Castro such routine despair is understandable. Cubans can't even access everyday things like shampoo--even though it is plentiful in the small stores in tourist hotels, they cannot purchase it with regular pesos. This is one of the many examples of "tourist apartheid," whereby tourists are allowed certain privileges (like satellite TV) while Cubans are isolated from foreign visitors as well as the outside world. The lucky few who get to work within the tourism sector have access to the "convertible peso" and can purchase some of these things, but sometimes it's just easier to tip your hotel maid in cosmetics rather than cash. Most people we interacted with were either other tourists or Cubans who worked in tourism (museums, restaurants, hotel, bars etc). However, everyone knew we were foreign (the whole American accent/white skin thing somehow tipped them off) and we got several marriage proposals when strolling along the streets (hey lady, you wants Cuban boyfriends? I marry you, yes? You take me to America, ok?). Just another example of how stuck people feel in Cuba--and that's just in Havana! I can't imagine what it's like in the impoverished rural areas, which we only passed on the bus ride from Havana to the beach resort area of Varadero.
Oh my, I could go on for a while about the total hypocrisy of Varadero, but ultimately the beach is gorgeous and the rum flows freely, so I don't want to bash it too much... In fact, that's true about Havana too, and I don't want to give the impression that I didn't enjoy my time there. Cuba is lots of fun, even though I found myself laughing more 'at' than 'with.' I mean, Castro is a classicaly paranoid totalitarian and some of those anti-Bush billboards along the Malecon are just so shocking it's hilarious. I'm just really glad that I got to before he dies, which may be never seeing how long he's lasted so far...
Anyway, viva Cuba libre! and enjoy the pics :)

(oh about the pics, just click on the link below, but you have to sign into the kodak gallery- a free process which will literally take 30 secs... I just need people to sign in since this link is on my blog, aka open to the entire world!)

Holy Sh*t it's an Eve update

Well it's been a long time since my last real update-- 51 days to be exact, which is NOTHING in geological time, also known as Africa time, Caribbean time etc ;) ... I guess the last you heard from me I was chillin' in Cape Town--developing my conflict resolution/mediation skills, partying like a rockstar to make up for my antisocial behavior during the first semester, working diligently on my tan, and taking excessive amounts of pictures to document the whole thing... I don't want to bore you with the details of my 3-week stay in South Africa (ooo I met Ex-President and Nobel laureate FW de Klerk!!), but needless to say, I had a great time and I can't wait to go back--soon hopefully!

You all saw most of my pics online and received no narrative from me to explain 'em, but they were pretty self-explanatory. Quick summary: lots of random white people (other ppl in the program), some Africans (some program ppl, and also my wonderful homestay family from last year--Tina has grown sooo much!), beautiful pics of Cape Town (easy to take great pics of such a gorgeous city), scenery from the townships (not beautiful in quite the same way), a 'toga party,' an essentially talentless talent show, and endless pics of nights out in the Mother City with South African friends (oh and some crazy Namibians).

Anyway after Cape Town, I stopped over in the UK for a few days to reconnect with friends in Oxford and London. While the stay was basically a long weekend, it was, as always, good times with lots of alcohol and uncooperative weather.

After the little stopover, I came back through NYC for 48h before turning around and leaving again (this, I believe, is what is now known as "pulling an Eve")... This time the destination was Montreal for the McGill MUN conference. It was great to be back in Montreal, a little taste of Europe on this side of the Atlantic. Plus the weather was really warm! Wait, let me qualify that, it was really warm for Montreal in January, which means it was 30ºF/0ºC all weekend--which is tropical compared to lows of -15ºF/-45ºC in previous years.
Well the conference was a success (plus I got to very briefly see Ivan) and I drove the team back to Smith in the white Smith College soccer mom minivan--hot, I know...



And then the spring semester started--my LAST semester as an undergrad, which is terrifying/exciting/overwhelming and uber busy as usual. Actually that's a little bit of a lie because I've had a rather chill start to the semester... The second weekend of the semester I had a fantastic mini-bday party in NYC at Baraonda with a representative slice of the NYC crew...




And then the next day I flew off to the French Alps for a week. It's my family's traditional annual week of skiing in the most beautiful place in the world... So what if I missed a week of classes? It was a 'sudden family emergency,' and I just HAD to go for a week ;-) The skiing wasn't fab bc there wasn't much snow (as opposed to the record-breaking amount that was dumped on NYC just as I was leaving--the ultimate definition of IRONY), but it was great to spend time with the fam, eat great food, breathe the fresh mtn air, and keep partying like a rockstar etc...



And now it's back to the grind of the SC. More from me soon!