1000ºF with 200% humidity

The week in Tanzania was exactly what I needed to recharge and prepare for my next Fellowship placement in Thailand, from where I write now. As I unpack and settle into my new apartment, I feel pretty tired from the long trip here—or that could just be the Bangkok weather talking. Anyone care for 1000ºF with 200% humidity? Indeed, Bangkok has been named the hottest capital city in the world. Quite the change from The Hague!
I haven’t been here in 10 years and much has changed, but Bangkok so far seems like the teeming and lively city of my memories. Hundreds of food vendors line the streets, every alleyway is a market, photographs of the king adorn the shop fronts and traffic intersections, and where you least expect it, a gleaming gold and red temple peeks out from between office buildings.
I have a couple of days to settle in and get acclimated before starting work at Mahidol University. I am really excited to finally be here though and am looking forward to finally sinking my teeth into my substantive and interesting work.

Smith reunion

Last night, I joined a group of Smith alums who are traveling through Arusha on a trip themed “traditional and modern women of Tanzania.” I feel very strong ties to my alma mater, so when I realized a few months ago that I was overlapping with the group in Arusha, I suggested meeting up with them. Originally, I was very ambitious with my plans and wanted to not only bring them on a tour of the UN, but also put together some kind of short training for them. While the trip organizers were excited by the idea, it didn’t end up being possible because of the group’s prior commitments.
Ultimately, I just joined them for dinner yesterday evening, which turned into many hours of interesting conversation and laughter.

Arusha Time Warp

My sister has returned to the States and I am continuing on my trek into the mysterious dark heart of Africa, where I am battling mosquitoes and the other savage blood-sucking tribe of Northern Tanzania, also known as “UN ICTR lawyers.” I say this jokingly of course—the mosquitoes aren’t too bad this time of year.
I’m in Arusha now, where I worked at the UN for several months last year. It has been great to visit friends and reconnect with former UN colleagues. Indeed, I spent most of the day today roaming around my old office and talking to the lawyers on my team about the work I’m doing now on the Fellowship.
However, it feels quite surreal to be back here, especially since most of my friends and colleagues have since moved on… Some are in The Hague and others are scattered around the globe. The people that made this place home last year are gone, but being in Arusha still feels comfortable and familiar, like putting on an old pair of slippers. Despite many changes in this growing town, I can still navigate around easily and my Swahili has come back, flowing naturally off my tongue. I feel deeply nostalgic but at the same time I can’t help but think about how far I’ve come in a year and how much I look forward to what lies ahead.

Karibu Tanzania!

The wheels pivot and the lumbering plane pauses. The engines build and suddenly lurch, thrusting forward. I am gently pinned back against my seat as we race down the runway. Soon the tension is relieved as the plane, miraculously and impossibly slowly, lifts off the ground.

Newly familiar landscape whizzes by and looses its harsh distinctions as we rise ever faster above the Ethiopian plateau. Now the fields, desperately and lovingly slaved over, are but irregular patchwork of dull green and brown. The dramatic crevasses and sheer cliffs of the mountains are dark lines, wrinkles on the landscape.

Thin gray smog hovers in the distance and I know we are approaching Nairobi. The cloud masks the continuing turmoil in this country, once touted as the symbol of stability and growth in East Africa. Thinking back to my time here a year and a half ago, I remember the tribalism and not so thinly veiled political tensions.

A sensation of weightlessness overcomes me now as we descend ever closer to the Tanzanian plains. I am lifted off my seat and my stomach it seems has gone all the way up into the overhead compartment. I am reassembled seconds later and the plane continues on its jostling descent. During this short flight, I note that the earth has turned from grayish brown to the familiar parched rust. And then I catch Kilimanjaro out of the corner of my eye. I forget my nausea and feel… at home again…

Thirteen Months of Sunshine

A few days ago, I parted ways with 3/4 of my family. My youngest sister Claire, with whom I spent nearly a month traveling in India last year, decided to join me for the next leg of my trip: a week in Ethiopia. Ever since I began studying African issues, I have been intrigued by Ethiopia. In college, I discovered a love for Ethiopian cuisine and came very close to finally visiting the country last year while I was living in Tanzania. Unfortunately that trip fell through, but the opportunity arose again thanks to the Fellowship program’s encouragement of travel and pursuing life experiences.

We have been in Ethiopia for several days and visited sites that rivaled those in Egypt, such as the ancient palaces in Gonder and amazing rock-hewn churches of Lalibela.


We also got roped into teaching a two-hour English class for a dynamic group of students at a hospitality school.


In addition, we’ve steadily been increasing our tolerance of injera, the famous Ethiopian spongy fermented bread, and are planning a day of volunteer work at an orphanage in Addis Ababa.

Celebrating Christmas in a Muslim country

After 2 weeks in a country that is deadlocked in its inability to select a new president, I have now moved on to a country that has been happy(-ish) with the same president for nearly 27 years: Egypt.
My family flew over from New York and joined me here so we could spend the holidays together. We reunited in Cairo on Christmas Eve, the anticipation of which made me realize how much I actually missed them all. In the past few days, between long conversations and catch ups, we’ve floated on a restaurant-boat on the Nile, battled Cairo's interminable traffic, seen the wealth of relics in the Egyptian Museum, and wandered around the Pyramids of Giza, the only remaining wonder of the ancient world. We are now in Luxor, continuing to explore Egypt's ancient wonders and trying to stop my father from trading me and my sisters as brides for a handsome dowry of camels and gold.

From here, we are going to Sharm El Sheik, a famous Red Sea beach resort to relax and spend some final time together as a family—something we won’t be doing again until the summer. After New Year’s, they are returning to the States and I am continuing on my travels through East Africa and ultimately on to Southeast Asia to begin my next placement.

Finally!

Over the past week, I spent most of my time overindulging in delicious Lebanese cuisine and touring around the city. I have also been enjoying Beirut’s legendary nightlife, the vibrancy of which is in direct proportion to the depth of the political crisis. Most of my appointments and interviews have unfortunately been canceled, but finally ALEF and the student group from AUB decided to reschedule the workshop for today.
Surprisingly I was not at all nervous for my first solo training—though the fact that I wasn’t nervous freaked me out a little. But I was well prepared, especially since the workshop was already canceled twice at the last minute. I was scheduled to give a 4-hour negotiation workshop for a group of 40 students, but only about 10 actually showed up. I was momentarily disappointed at the low turnout, but I didn’t let it show and ultimately enjoyed the fact that I was working with a smaller group. The workshop was more intimate and interactive than it could have been had more people attended. The group was great: they took to the material, asked lots of questions, pushed back, engaged each other in discussions, and whole-heartedly participated in the role-plays. There was a great energy in the room and I was loath to cut it off even though we went one hour over time. Ultimately, it was a great first experience and a lot of fun-- though utterly exhausting. I really can’t wait to do this again!

On and on and on...

There are tons of soldiers along the streets today, at least one every 10 meters or so. But despite the tensions today, they don’t seem any more alert or on guard. They stand around, these young boys in grey fatigues, leaning on sand-bag barriers, lazily fingering their rifles. They catcall at the few passing girls, languidly direct traffic, and enjoy the rare December sunshine. In the city center, the streets are completely deserted. Like a scene out of an apocalypse movie: not a car, not a bike, not even the birds venture into the streets. Every once in a while, a convoy of black SUVs with tinted windows speeds by, either going towards or away from the Parliament building.
This morning I got a call from ALEF, regretting to inform me that due to the election day fears, the workshop I was scheduled to conduct at AUB was indefinitely rescheduled. These fears were totally unwarranted since, despite much fussing around, the elections were postponed for the 9th time. And the Lebanese political crisis continues…

Lebanon, day 2

Despite the tragic bombing that occurred hours before my arrival yesterday, things are going well in Beirut. This morning I had a very productive meeting at the Association Libanaise de l'Education et de la Formation (ALEF), the human rights advocacy and education organization through which I am working here. On Monday, I am giving an hour-long presentation at the American University in Beirut (AUB) on processes of post-conflict reconciliation. Later in the week, I am going to do an internal facilitation training for ALEF staff and volunteers.
Next weekend, I am planning on driving to Damascus--yes that would be the capital of the axis-of-evil Syria. It’s just a short trip over the mountains and should only take about 2 hours by road...

Welcome to Lebanon!

My friend Aline greeted me at the airport this afternoon with a big hug and immediately asked me if I had heard the news. After a frenzy of packing in The Hague and many hours of travel and transit, the last thing on my mind was the news. Apparently there was a big bomb blast in one of Beirut’s Christian suburbs, which killed the army successor of the potential new president. Lebanon has been stuck in a political impasse for weeks, unable to come to a compromise and select a new president—and this attack has pushed any imminent solution out of reach.

While it certainly unsettled me, the bombing didn’t really scare me. The sense I am getting from most Lebanese people I have talked to today is that they are saddened by the assassination, but ultimately blasé as these types of things have been happening with regularity for nearly 2 years. More than once, they simply said, “welcome to Lebanon!” Others told me that the bombs are well targeted, killing the intended victim and the people in his immediate entourage. They are not random suicide bombings in which the maximum civilian casualties are sought like in Iraq. I am not sure how comforting this line of reasoning is, but I did decide to come here knowing that the security situation is unstable. I don’t feel like it’s completely out of control, though I will remain cautious during my short placement here.