Unemployment

I know it has been months since I last posted a blog, but I am pretty convinced my blog doesn't get much traffic anyway, so in the end, it doesn't matter much.  Since my last blog, I have proudly been letting everybody know that I survived the election.  In the weeks leading up to the election, I didn't do a damn thing besides election things.  Even my dreams were about Election Day.  Get Out the Vote came and went faster than I would have thought possible, and then there was nothing.  It was time for unemployment with no solid employment coming up.  So welcome fuckers (I only say that because of the picture) to the blog update about (almost) everything between then and now.

Charming graffiti at the hostel

Sometimes, people ask me why I love traveling to other countries so much when I know so little of my own native country.  And since one of the most popular states in the Union is California, I figured I should probably see it before leaving the USA again.  I got to go visit my old roommate (from when I lived in Santiago the first time) out in Oceanside (near San Diego).

O-Side Beach

The only bad thing is that she is kind of like a grown up and has a full time job.  And she works that job over nights.  It didn't stop us from having fun though.  We spent several afternoons just laying on the beach with the intention that Victoria could sleep and I could read my book or watch the surfers.  The problem is that we always ended up talking for hours.

Oceanside Beach at sunset

Victoria frolicking

There are millions of reasons I think this is the smallest world ever (I randomly ran into someone I met in Colombia last weekend on the streets of Santiago), but I happened upon an Ana Tijoux performance in LA when I was there.  And it was on a Sunday night so Victoria could go too!  If you don't know Ana Tijoux, you are missing out.  She is Chilean rapper and has some pretty politically charged songs.  Read more about her here.  For those of you that don't read Spanish, sorry.  Maybe you can understand some of it?)  We spend the evening chilling in Venice.  The city even made canals and put houses on them so it was like Venice, Italy!

Venice, Los Angeles, California

The cool kids on the beach

I didn't take my camera into the show, but I can tell you it was wonderful.  Even being one of about five white people there was wonderful.  Except she kind of made fun of gringos, and that just wasn't necessary.

We spent an afternoon doing the international houses where they give you samples of their food.  The only thing  slightly disappointing was that Latin America was significantly underrepresented.  Oh, well.  I like scones and cookies and egg salad sandwiches from the Queen just as much as the next person.

THE picture you HAVE to take (or something like that)

 For our final big outing, Victoria and I went to the Wild Animal Park.  It was kind of amazing- you get to travel through "Africa", where they have real kitenges draped on things and everything is way to clean to really be Africa.  You may or may not remember the Fredship Story, but I think I found some of Fred's friends in the petting zoo.  I also saw the cutest baby gorilla kissing the momma gorilla, and my heart fucking melted.  I also got to watch the moon rise over the man made savannah with a rhino.

Fred's Friends and me

Baby gorilla kisses

Rhino sunset

Some of my afternoons were spent on the promenade, or Victoria's back porch as it is better known as.  I miss our afternoon teas, speaking loudly and rudely in a British accent,  and brushing up on my Chilean slang.  The insane amount of Chilean and California wine that was consumed in good humor was the perfect detox from the election cycle, and I actually said that I still wanted to go back to work the 2014 election.  After leaving California, I carried my unemployment back to Santiago de Chile, where (hopefully) I won't be unemployed much longer.  They DO have elections coming up...

Peace and Love

Currently listening to: Lana del Ray.  I got so much new music in California, and I am not even listening to it right now.  I feel like I failed.

I Can Make A Difference

My day started kind of meh.  I figured out that Mount Vernon Road wasn't going to be closed, so I drove to the office instead of riding my bike.  It was only mildly stressful trying to navigate my way through the thousands of cyclists heading out of town for RAGBRAI.  (It was actually kind of cool seeing them all jazzed up to bike 40 miles to Anamosa; now I want to do RAGBRAI some year.)  After I got to work, things started to head downhill fast when I couldn't get lists to cut right and every volunteer I called was mumbling some bullshit about not actually being able to volunteer.  I wasn't going to get the minimum 100 calls I needed for the day and without volunteers, there were thousands I had to make solo in the coming weeks.  (I know 100 phone calls per day isn't bad, but it is when you despise talking on the phone and that is all you have done all week.)

After breaking down, crying, and stopping myself from demolishing my computer, I went home for some lunch and to gear up for the Benton County Fair.  I avoided driving myself into a ditch on the way there, but not without significant amounts of road rage and throwing my arms around.

Once I parked my car, I sat for a minute and tried to regain my composure.  Which is good because I had to walk by the Benton County Republicans to get to the Benton County Democrats booth.  I didn't make eye contact because I probably would have punched one of them.  At the booth, things were ok.  I actually love talking with candidates running for county and state office.  They are always pumped up and feisty.  (Not that candidates running for federal office aren't.  I just see county and state candidates significantly more.)  Afterwards, I stopped to pick up my traditional Subway sandwich on my way out of Vinton (mileage and expenses are paid if I leave the Linn County!) and got on the road.

All was fine on the drive home.  I took my normal exit, but I accidentally turned before I really should have.  I do that a lot; Cedar Rapids is confusing like that. 

There is this one on-ramp in Cedar Rapids that almost always has a homeless person sitting at it, and as always, when I drove by tonight, there was someone sitting there.

I lost it again.

Tears swelled in my eyes.  I wanted that person to have a safe home and food in their belly.  The only thing I thought I had to offer was my Subway sandwich and the half-eaten bag of chips, so I turned around (not an easy thing to do with the wonky design of Cedar Rapids) and asked if she wanted it.  The smile on her face and "Yes, thank you!" were possibly the most genuine I have seen or heard in a long time. 

The mix of emotions was profound- terribly sad that homelessness and poverty have to exist (especially in a country that prides itself on opportunity and high level of development), relief that I know she will be eating something tonight, and embarrassment at what I considered to be a terrible day.

When I got home, I realized that I had also had an apple in my backpack, and I wished I had offered it as well.  I am going to start carrying a small bag of snacks whenever I take that ramp.  It is almost guaranteed that someone will be on that corner, and I will hand whoever is there my snacks.  I really don't need them.

This has been one of the most emotionally exhausting days I have had in quite some time, and I think one of the most emotionally exhausting of all time.  But only because I realized that I can make a difference.  Even if it is only in one persons life.

If you want to learn more about homelessness in the US and programs designed to aid the homeless, you can visit the United States Interagency Council on homelessness website.  There are also tons of programs that function on the local level to mitigate homelessness and poverty.

Peace and Love
Allison

The Proust Questionaire

My friend Kelley is one of the most creative and inspiring people I know.  She is the creative director over at majestic disorder, and as I was perusing her website, the Proust questionaire she has posted kind of inspired me.  So I decided to do it. 

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
 Perfect happiness is that level of self actualization that we probably never achieve, but we are always striving for.  Never achieving it is not bad, it keeps us going and working, striving for more.

What is your most marked characteristic?
 I tend to be quite honest about things.  I am honest when I do like something, when I don't like something, and when I really don't care.  People just don't usually believe me when I say I don't care due to my strong and honest opinions about certain other things.

What is your greatest extravagance?
 Travelling is probably my greatest extravagance (although I don't necessarily travel in extravagant ways).  I love the excitement and novel adventures new places have to offer, so I try to go everywhere I get the opportunity to.

What is your greatest inspiration?
My greatest inspiration is the world around me.  All of the colors, imperfections, songs, people, food, and faults of the world give me inspiration by making me want to be part of it.


What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Being who I am today is by far my greatest achievement.  Granted, most 25 year olds have steady jobs, steady boyfriends, and all around steady lives, but considering where I came from, what I have been through, and what I have done, the person I have become is my greatest achievement to date.


Which words or phrases do you most overuse? 
I use "yeah" way to much.  And I say "sure" when I am discussing things with people, and I want to give them a "yes" answer, but I still want a way out.  It's the debater in me.



Who are your favorite writers?
I get lost in Henry Miller's writing constantly, and I am absolutely in love with Pablo Neruda's poetry.  I also really appreciate the beauty of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's writing.  Even if you don't like the stories he tells, you have to love the way he tells them.


What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
When I was younger, I did a lot of things I didn't really want to do because I thought I had to.  Out of sense of duty or obligation or for whatever reason.   But that is what I regard as misery.  I no longer do things I don't want to do "con pasión."  Everything I do, I chose to do because I want to do it "con pasion."


What is your favorite journey?
I honestly believe everything in life is a journey, and so far,  it's working out ok.  Even the parts that I complain about and say I wish didn't happen, I ultimately appreciate because everything is part of a larger journey for us all.


What is your greatest fear?
By far, my greatest fear is failure.  In fact, I am so afraid of it, I don't do certain things if I think there is a possibility I might fail.


What is the quality you most like in a woman?
 An honest smile, a big heart, and ready for adventures.


What is the quality you most like in a man?
An honest smile, a big heart, and ready for adventures.


When and where were you happiest?
My first reaction is summer 2010/2011 in Santiago, sitting on the balcony of my apartment having beers with friends.  Or sitting under the shade tree at Peace Matunda last May-July having coffee with Jackie and Bellasix.  Simple bliss.


Where would you like to live?
If I could still be living in Santiago right now, I would be a happy girl.  I was not nearly ready to leave when I did.  Ultimately, I think I would like to live in any place that is new.  I love the challenge of finding a pharmacy for a wrap for your foot that has a massive blister on it and you can barely walk.  Or tying to bake cookies but the store doesn't have brown sugar.  I like to live places where I don't simply live, but I also learn along the way.


If you could choose to come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
I think it might be interesting to come back as a more "traditional" person: married parents, 4 normal years at a university, boyfriends and internships.


What is your most treasured possession?
 My books hold a tremendous value to me for several reasons, and I have always treasured my books.  Even as a child, my mom always said I could part with a lot of things, but I couldn't part with my books.  My books might have a new contender with my new camera though. And I also really like my passport.  It takes me places.

On what occasion do you lie?
Straight up, I try to never lie.  It gets you nowhere, and 98% of the time, more of a hassle than it is worth.


What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
It's 2012.  Nobody even knows what virtues are, let alone gives any of them ratings.  However, in terms of what virtues I think are just silly, I would have to say temperance (I say this as I am drinking a beer) and chastity.  Sometimes, you just have to go balls to the wall and let temperance go.  And if there are two consenting people, I don't think chastity really matters either.  Chastity has no effect on other people, so I don't think it should really be considered a virtue.


What or who is the greatest love of your life?
I don't love.  I'm not that kind of girl.


What is your motto?
Go for it.  Because ultimately, the world isn't that big.  (Which is admittedly rather ironic considering my biggest fear is failure...)


What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Ugly behaviour.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
My inability to accept love and acceptance from others is deplorable along with my complete lack of self-confidence.


I hope you have enjoyed peeking into my soul in a way inspired by Kelley at majestic disorder via questions provided by Marcel Proust. 

Peace and Love

Goal Pondering

The other day I went for quite a long walk as part of my goal to stay (at least kind of) healthy and mobile during the election cycle.  My original goals were much more lofty, but with the random schedule of sleeping and eating, running and a lot of consistent outdoor activity don't fit in well.  But usually I find some quite time on Sundays to do as I please, and last Sunday it was walking in the park and listening to Stuff You Should Know.  The first episode I listened to was "Are we obsessed with goals?", and it reminded me of my List of 25 Things to Do While I am 25.  I still haven't even finished making the list, and I kind of forgot about it for a few months as my job was ending and I was figuring out what was happening next.  Obviously, I am still failing miserably at some parts of this list, but I have actually finished some of the things.

I got to visit a new country, even though Kelley didn't get to come with me.  I more or less spent my May tooling around Colombia.  From Bogotá:

La Candelaria, Bogotá, Colombia

To Playa Blanca:

Livin' the Life

 And out into the jungle to search for La Ciudad Perdida:

Hot and Humid Break Time

 You could probably call the trek to La Ciudad Perdida could probably be considered a camping/hiking adventure, and I have been looking for pawn shops in hopes of finding a camera.  I was much more enthusiastic about my list last January, but as I was listening to the podcast, I was reminded of it.  I think I outlined these goals for a few reasons, one of which was just for something to do.  Working a part-time minimum wage job will drive anyone to insanity. 

Ultimately, my List of 25 Things to do While I am 25 isn't something that will make or break me.  It will however give me a huge sense of satisfaction if I can do most of the things on the list.  I already  know I will not do all of them.  And that is ok.  It at least gives me something to work for.  And I was coming to this conclusion, so was the podcast.  So I might add "Get my own podcast deal" to my list of 25 things to do...

Get Lost

I have been lost many times in my life.  And in the past year and a half, I have had some great times getting lost.  Wandering around Santiago, I would get lost and discover new parks and roads.  Going out to Gialibomba I had no idea where we were, where we were going, or even where the road was.  (I dare you to try to find your way in this.)

Where's the road?!

 Hiking through the ecological reserve just outside of Santiago, my friends and I ducked under barbed wire, slid down hills, and were ultimately rewarded with one of the most breathtaking and exciting views I have ever been surprised with.  

Under the barbed wire...

Through the tree...

The picture doesn't do it justice

We never did find the waterfall we had originally set off to find.

Months later, the crew set out to find some hot springs (or something like that) out in Cajon de Maipo.  We just went, and figured we could figure it out, but of course, we got lost.  And the man that ran the goat farm was not very helpful with directions.

Where are we!?

We never found the hot springs, but we did pull the gringo card and didn't have to pay for our picnic table at lunch, saw some road kill, and got to cross the Rickety Bridge of Doom.

Rickety Bridge of Doom!

I have been thinking about these adventures of getting lost a lot lately, I think for two reasons:

1. Getting lost provides for some amazing adventures.  I have never had a terrible experience with getting lost.  Sometimes, in the moment, things can be frustrating, but there are always a lot of laughs, some good photos, and usually a good story to tell at the end of the day.  I miss getting lost and having those stories to tell.  I want to find new places and people so I can get lost and eventually become familiar with them.

2. I have come to a point in life where I have to make a decision.  I think I have already made it, but it's not 100% yet.  Standing at an intersection and deciding which way to go can be stressful, especially when society dictates you play it safe and do one thing and your heart, soul, and gut tell you to do what makes you happy.  I figure, at worst, I get lost and have an amazing story to tell at the end of the day.

Endless possibilities on the open road

The Vegetarian that Tried Some Meat

First things first, I want to warn you: Some of the pictures in this entry are graphic.  Like, really graphic.  Like, dead animals and blood graphic.  So go back now if you aren't into that sort of thing.

I have been a pescetarian for some years now.  (I have been trying to rid my diet of fish and seafood as well, but it is really hard.  I have been doing extremely well though, only eating fish when eating sushi, and I rarely get sushi.)  I fully understand that making the decision to cut meat out of my diet demonstrates the privileged I come from.  I can chose what I eat and actively exclude things available to me.  Not everyone can do that.  In fact, some people can't imagine saying no to meat if it is put in front of them.  Granted, some of these people are red blooded 'Muricans, but some of  them eat anything that is put in front of them because there are no choices in what (or when) they get to eat.

Most vegetarians will tell you they don't eat meat because it is mean to kill animals.  This is not why I don't eat meat.  I understand there is a natural food chain, I just don't think the status quo of the food chain is sustainable (and frankly, it's kind of gross), so I chose not to participate in it.  It might also be interesting to note here that one of my current jobs is working customer service at store that sells hunting (and fishing and camping) supplies, and I sell hunting licenses like a pro.  (Don't ask how I got the job.  It was a Christmas Miracle.) 

All that being said, the past few months have sparked an interest in hunting for me.  It started with a 25 hour trip out to Gilai Bomba in Tanzania where we got left to journey out to the school Peace Matunda had built for the village.  After we came back (and waited for about 4 hours), Scott and I got to witness a dead wildebeest being pulled out of the back of the jeep.  This is not something I normally witness, so I got really excited about the novelty of it all.  I wanted to help, so I did.

Helping skin the 'beest

Scott was possibly more disgusted than I was

Although I was probably the most enthusiastic vegetarian to ever help skin a wildebeest, I really didn't want blood on my clothes and shoes.  I got pretty good with hand washing my clothes, but I was really worried I wouldn't be able to make those blood stains go away.  And even if I could, I would feel like my clothes would forever be tainted with wildebeest blood.  Here I am holding up his head, but I was really worried about dropping it and getting blood on myself.  Hence, the face.

Don't drop it!

When I got to Tanzania, I decided that I would try a bite of meats I had never had and would probably never have made available to me again.  It was a once in a lifetime deal since my justification for being vegetarian doesn't really hold strong when we are talking about shooting gazelles and dik-dik that are roaming around.  I tried a small bite of dik-dik, gazelle, goat (which you can read about in the Fredship Story), wildebeest ribs, and (on this trip out to Gilaibomba) wildebeest heart.  Yes, I wanted to say I ate that wildebeest's heart because it makes me feel bad ass. 

Wildebeest heart, liver, and kidney

People ask me if I want to start eating meat again now that I have tried the piece of the food pyramid I have been missing out on all of these years.  It's actually really easy for me to not eat meat, and it really doesn't even sound appealing to me, even after trying it after these years.  I want to stay a person with an open mind and always be willing to try new things, so I tried the meat.  So in my quest to never say no and stay adventurous, I became the vegetarian that tried some meat.

25 Things to do While I am 25: Update

First, I think I should be honest.  I haven't been putting in the time I should be to complete my list of 25 things to do while I am 25.  However, I have made some progress. 

7. Work on my memoir- Despite the fact that I have a start on about 3 chapters of my memoir, they are not good chapters, and I am having trouble doing revisions.  I'm thinking the key to me making any real progress is to join a highly structured writing group.  That way, I know there is an expectation for my writing and revisions to be done, and I get feedback from the group. 

12. Lose at least five pounds- Oddly enough, the last time I was on a scale, I was about half way to completing this goal.  I haven't done anything besides started working at the capital and eating inappropriate amounts of free cookies.  Apparently cookies are a weight loss food.

15. Wear heals to work- This wasn't on my original list I posted, but it is something I had wanted to do.  Especially with having a kind of real job that requires me to look classy.  I had to get one of my shoes repaired first, but since I now have shoes that are fully wearable, I have worn them to work almost every day. 

1. Date someone- I haven't actually dated someone as outlined by my definition.  However, I did participate in a disastrous speed dating situation.  It was put on by the alumni associations of Iowa State, Iowa, and UNI.  So the one nice thing was knowing that there was some level of intelligence in the room.  Odds of there being a mutual "like" and contact information sent out is slim to none, so I will keep working on this.

25 Things to do While I am 25

I was recently inspired to make a list of 25 things I wanted to do in my 25th year on this great planet.  Since I don't have much else going on, I figured it would be something positive and productive to focus on.  Granted, some of the things on the list are kind of bizarre and random, but I guess that is what you get with me.  I decided to share some of the things on my list (some, not all), and document the progress I am making.  This way, with the public watching, I will be more motivated.  (Feel free to get on me about not getting though enough of these things fast enough because I do procrastinate.)

1. Date someone- This means going on at least 3 dates with the same person with some sort of romantic intentions (Side note: if this goal was to eat 3 dates with someone in the general area, I would have had this one whipped only days after my birthday.  Unfortunately, actual progress on this goal is dismal, at best.)

2. Visit a new country- If all goes as planned, this will be happening in April with Kelley.

3. Learn to Dougie- This one was actually accomplished only days after my birthday by watching a YouTube video of Cali Swag District teaching me how to Dougie. 

4. Run a 10K- Although this is going to be harder than bricks (running on pavement every day is giong to kill my shins, and probably my whole body), I think I can do it.

5. Read a classic novel- Like I have never done this before or something.  I just needed some things that would be easier and more enjoyable to accomplish.

6. Go golfing- The real reason I want to do this is due to the reason the Scots put 18 holes in a round of golf: There are 18 shots in a fifth of scotch.

7. Work on my memoir- It's not even February, and I already have at least starts on three chapters.  Now I just need help with revisions to (hopefully) make it something I don't hate.  Not even something to publish (although, I am sure it will be published and sold along side Tropic of Cancer by the time I am 30).  Just something I don't hate.

8. Return to Chile- No explanation needed.

9. Learn the rest of the words to Ludacris's "Fantasy"- I have been trying to learn all of the words for about 5 years now, but I figure now that I am 25, I should focus and learn those last few lines.

10. Get a camera- Since I got robbed in Valpo, I haven't had a real camera.  I loved my film camera, and I always will love film.  But I think I am going to look for a digital SLR this time.  Now I just need to find a really good deal on one...

11. Do  this and this with said camera- And really, I would love for my friends to make lists of things for more photo challenges.  I love finding the beauty in simple and everyday things.

12. Lose at least five pounds- I have been trying to do this since summer 2010, but I will do it this year!  And ideally, the pounds will just keep falling off once I get on a roll.

13. Kiss someone at midnight on New Year's Eve- Let's be honest.  This isn't going to happen.

14. Hiking and camping adventure- My biggest obsticle with this one, is that I am going to have to do it by myself, and I think I would enjoy it significantly more if there was at least one other person to share the experience with.  But I suppose that is part of the challenge, eh?

This isn't everything on my list, but it is most of it.  My list is still lacking a few things, so if anybody has any ideas, I would love to hear them!

The Simple Life

The evolution of a mindset from appreciation to overwhelmed by excess is an interesting one.  While I was hanging out in Africa, I started to think about how much I really appreciate the advantages I have here in the US and the standard of living we are afforded.  My appreciation for these things was not born in Africa, but it definitely came full circle and exploded while I was there.  Being and living in a place where electricity is scarce and safety is questionable gives an entirely different meaning to having unlimited hot showers after a long run outside and then staying up late reading.

Since being back, I have become less and less thankful for these things I have and more and more overwhelmed and fed up with the excess of it all.  I don't need 18 different options of butter and butter substitutes.  Nor do I need 29 varieties of pre-packaged spaghetti sauce.  I will surely survive without a constant connection to the internet via my phone, and in fact, I sometimes think I would survive better without a phone period.  When I look in the cupboards and see everything preserved and pre-packaged, I still get a little confused about what I am supposed to do. 

Everything you could possibly imagine (and even some things you would never imagine existing outside a Sci-Fi novel) are casually and easily consumed here.  I don't like it.  I miss my simple life of living out of a suitcase, and I miss the challenge of every day living.  (Remember when I had to figure out an alternative for brown sugar when I was trying to bake cookies in a questionable oven at an altitude that probably doesn't permit good cookie baking?)  The constant learning and simplicity of the developing world have captured me and aren't going to let me comfortably stay in the US.  I don't cry about it anymore, but I am still antsy with anticipation of when I can return to the simple life.  

Fuck It. I'm Going Out.

One humid summer evening, after my third year at Iowa, I got talked into going out.  I was gross from the hot and sticky day, but I changed my shirt, put on some deodorant, and called it good enough. On my way walking downtown, I ran into someone I knew, and he told me, “You look like you said, ‘Fuck it; I’m going out.’”  I thanked him for the great confidence boost and went on my way.  I guess I appreciated the honesty.

A couple of years later, during a spring storm, the power went out.  Travis crept downstairs with a candle to find me, and took me up to his apartment.  When we went outside to see the storm, we realized that we were the only block around that didn’t have power (and there wasn't much of a storm to see).  Since the rest of town had power, that meant that downtown still had power.  We decided that it would probably be best if we just went downtown where there would be lights, so we got ready in the dark and played a couple of rounds of fuck the dealer and pyramid by candle light and went out.  We called it Blackout Friday. 

Here in Tanzania, every time we go out, it feels like a combination of these two nights:

First, I always feel like I said, “Fuck it; I’m going out.”  Sometimes, this is actually the case.  I never spend too much time getting ready, and the clothes I am wearing are rarely clean (and by clean, I mean I hand washed them, which I am terrible at, so they really aren’t that clean even when they are “clean”.  I try to pick clothes that don’t smell too bad though).  I don’t have anything too fancy to wear, so I am never really flossy flossy.  And the nicest things I wear are probably the clothes I borrow from Jenni.  But fuck it; I still go out.

Second, I am usually getting ready without power (and therefore no lights or hot water, and sometimes no running water), just like on Blackout Friday.  I think there has only been one night* when we had power while getting ready, and it actually didn’t come on until part way through our getting ready and eating.  Here is me trying to wash the Masai market dirt out of my hair before getting ready to go out for Jenni’s last Saturday night. 

Bucket Washing

Even though we had to wash our hair and legs out of a bucket, we all shined up like new pennies (or should I say Tanzania shillings?).  Look how safari-like we look

The Safari at Empire Bar- Sema Yes Rasta!

 And here is one of me helping Kelley wash her hair before that distaster of a night at Via Via where we met a creepy Barak Obama/Tiger Woods look a like, but also did some intense bonding.

Me and Kelley Washing Hair

Again, I would say we ended up looking pretty good.

The Crew Outside Via Via

It makes me smile to think that I regularly get ready for a night out in the dark, and the smile gets even bigger when I think about the fact that a bunch of other people are in the same boat.  Half of Arusha could be without power, but the club will still be poppin’.  The club might not even have power, and it will still be poppin'.  It seems weird to me now to think of getting ready and putting makeup on with lights on.

*This sounds like I go out all the time, but this is not the case.  I have only been out a few times; it isn’t like I am going out dancing and making an ass of myself at Masai Camp every night of the week.  And the one time the power came back on, we had already brought water in and washed our hair out of buckets because we were so dirty from being in town. 

We Aren't Going to be Friends Anymore

Back when I was looking for TEFL jobs and finishing up my certification, I was spending a lot of time upstairs with (who I consider to be) my good friend, Travis.  We hadn't been good friends for a long time, despite the fact that we both been involved in debate for several years.  This being said, our friendship was young and fragile, but I kind of enjoyed being friends with him.  I assume he kind of liked me being his friend as well.

Does this not look like a friendship that will last?

And then I started looking for jobs teaching English abroad, and when I found out I actually got a job, Travis told me we wouldn't be friends anymore.  His reasoning was simple: Friendship is dependent on convenience and therefore, proximity.  Being 5,000 miles apart would not be conducive to furthering our friendship because I would just be too far away.  My love of Latin America ended up winning out over my love of Travis, and off I went.  And our friendship lasted.

But I have thought a lot about this since Travis told me we wouldn't be friends anymore.

First of all, I think a lot of the friends I made while in South America and Africa were made for the exact reason that Travis said we wouldn't be friends anymore: convenience and proximity.  I obviously wouldn't have made these friends if I had gone somewhere else.  And I was probably initially friends with most of these people only because we were living in the same area and didn't know another living soul (or at least, we didn't know very many other living souls).  This is not to say that I didn't appreciate these friendships.  Just that the initial connection with these people was thanks to convenience. 

Which brings me to why I daily think about what Travis said to me: I have been terrible at keeping up with my friends.  I have find it increasingly difficult to stay caught up with what and how my friends are doing.  And time zones makes this even more difficult.  Being so far apart means that every aspect of our lives are different, which means either 1. The level of commonality between my friends and I has dropped significantly, 2. A shit ton of explanation is needed for any life events, or 3. A combination of 1 and 2.  I think it's the latter.

On a more lighthearted and fun note, I get to go visit one of these friends!  Luckily, she only lives in Chicago, which makes the proximity issue much more manageable.  It should be a blast and then some.

I miss all of my friends from all over the world.  Well, I guess only 5 continents, but close enough to all over the world.  I hope I get to see you all again soon!  Reunions need to happen.

Peace and Love

Hawk Fans Around the World

The extend of Hawkeye fandom never ceases to amaze me.  Not that all of the people I have met that recognized my Iowa hoodie are necessarily fans, and not that the people I see wearing Iowa clothing are necessarily fans.  The case is probably more that they have no idea what they are wearing, they just want to wear this cool American sporting gear they saw in the shops.  In fact, if you talk to many of the people wearing clothing with American sports on them, they probably have no idea what they are wearing except that it is American and has something to do with sports.  So I have two stories:

When I was in Chile, there were several stores around that sold second hand clothes, and, I am not at all kidding, LSU and Drake (yes, Drake*) t-shirts were about $15.  Second hand.  But never would I have thought a young Chilean man would come up to me, of all the people that club, and ask me to dance when he was wearing an.... Iowa State t-shirt.  I had to explain to him (in terms of Chilean soccer rivals) that I couldn't dance with an Iowa State fan like that.  I couldn't dance with the enemy.  He kept insisting that he had no idea what this "Iowa State" was on his t-shirt, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and danced with him.  Here we are before I finally gave in and danced with him:

Chilean Iowa State Fan

Let's cross the Atlantic, to Africa.  While I was in Tanzania, I got the opportunity to go out to the middle of nowhere to a legit Maasai market.  You can read more about the Maasai people on the Wikipedia page.  But out in the middle of this market, in the middle of nothing, Tanzania, I found a young girl wearing a... Hawkeye t-shirt.  I was so excited.  I wanted to take her picture, but since the Maasai believe taking photos of people also takes their soul, she literally ran away when I asked if I could take her picture.  However, I was sneeky and pretended to take a picture of something else when really I was taking a picture of her.  I really hope I didn't steal her soul.

Maasai Hawk Fan

I know it is kind of hard to see, but there is deffinately a tiger hawk on her shirt.  Amazing.

Hopefully, this will inspire Iowa to play well and not make me fret so much. 

*As a side note, I think Drake clothing is the American clothing for a university I have seen the most when abroad.  I have seen t-shirts and sweatshirts at least in Chile, Argentina, and Tanzania.  I also haven't seen any professional sporting teams so well represented either.

A Fredship Story

You may think I accidently misspelled “friendship”, but that is not the case.  Because a Fredship is so much more than a friendship.  A Fredship involves a goat-friend named Fred and ends with Fred being thrown on the fire and everybody eating him.

First, you have to meet Fred.  We journeyed out to the mbuzi (goat) market to find ‘trollin’ for a nice looking (and reasonably priced) goat to take home.  It was quite an experience, and I don’t think I can quite fit it into words.  The market itself was just an open area with goats and men in their shukas scattered all around.  But when the mzungus and the rasta tumbled out of the minibus, they grabbed their goats and started to show them off, yelling “Mzungu!  Mzungu!  Rasta!  Rasta!”  Jenni settled on a nice spotted fellow that she lovingly named Fred.  

Fred

 

We tied Fred up in the back for the ride home where he pooped a lot and made a bit of a mess.  He was bleating a lot at first.  I think he was just wondering what kind of party he was getting taken to with this bus load of mzungus, but he quieted down after a bit.  Every once in awhile, he would have to bleat to remind us he was still there though.  And everyone would kind of laugh at the situation of being in a minibus with a goat tied up in the back to take home to slaughter. 

Fred, in the back of the minibus with the coal he will be cooked over

 We got him back to Peace Matunda, and he had a great time hanging out  with us.  Jenni and I really bonded with him.  We both fed him and I even tried to ride him.

Jenni Feeding Fred

Me Ridding Fred

This is where the Fredship story starts to get a bit graphic, so I will warn you now: you probably want to turn back now if you have a weak stomach or are a member of PETA.

Banana leaves were laid out for Fred’s (literal) death bed.  But I think he was slightly confused about what was going on because he kept trying to eat his death bed.  I guess I might keep trying to eat my death bed too if it was made out of banana leaves.  So, I stood next to Fred and kept my leg out to keep him from the leaves.  This got Fred really excited, and he even put the excitement in his mouth.  I never knew I turned goats on so much, but I am  Capricorn, so it makes sense.  And I did try ridding him, so maybe he got the wrong idea.

Fred met his death with a quick slice across the throat, and our watchman cut him up and skinned him.  It was actually amazing to watch, and not nearly as bloody or messy as I thought it was going to be.  Some of the kids even hung out to watch with us.  And Corfield got right in there and claimed the hooves for himself.

Corfield with Fred's Feet

After Fred was all skinned and cut up, he was ready to marinate and cook.  And once the sun went down, we threw him on the grill, and the party got started. 

Fred on Fire

I am a vegetarian, but my dietary decisions are not deeply rooted in the idea that eating meat is cruel to animals.  There are other reasons that come well before the cruelty to animals argument. This being said, I decided to try a bite of Fred (because eating Fred is not really in serious violation of my vegetarian decisions).  And I still have absolutely no desire to eat meat again (unless it is to try new and unusual species).  I also kind of enjoy the face Sean is making at me as I put the meat in my mouth.

Eating Fred

To top off the evening, we had the pleasure of experiencing a total lunar eclipse!  It was so beautiful, and it was kind of amazing to see a lunar eclipse in Tanzania.

Currently listening to: Bongo Flava (again).  I am practicing learning two of lines, but the hard part is trying to rap that fast in Kiswahili.  I will succeed though.  I will succeed.  (As an update, I did succeed.  I can now sing in Swahili.)



PS- Danielle kept Fred's beard, and I think she still has it.  I don't remember what she said she did with it... maybe gave it to the dog or something?  I will have to investigate and let you know.

Making Kahawa

Spoiler Alert!  This story gives away what I am going to be bringing back for my grandmothers, so if  you are one of my grandmothers and you want it to be a surprise, stop reading now.  If you are not one of my grandmothers, feel free to read, but don’t tell them what they are getting.

Besides tourism, Tanzania is also known for it’s coffee (or kahawa in Swahili) industry.  Here at Peace Matunda, cultural tours are offered, and part of the tour is making coffee.  As in roasting and grinding by hand. Not putting some grounds in a percolator.  Since both of my grandmothers like coffee, I thought it would be cool to make them some while I was here so I can take them back some coffee that was ground with love.

Here is a picture of the beans and the flower from the coffee tree.  

Kahawa Beans and Flower

 But when you buy it at the market, the outer shell has been taken off and it has been dried.  After waiting for the beans to dry, you have to grind them to get the flaky outer shell off the beans.  And to separate the flakes from the beans, you flip them up and around and let the wind whisk away the flakes and leave the beans.  I was completely unable to do this, but Bella is a pro.

Bella Flipping Beans

 

 

We were finally ready to start the roasting.  We put the beans in a small pot over a fire and stirred and stirred so they didn’t burn.  We were allowed to stir for shorts periods of time, but we were always told to give the spoon back to let the experts do it.  I was never pole pole enough.   

Me Stirring Kahawa Beans

Once they turn a nice dark brown color, it was time to dump them in the grinder thingy and start pounding.  Pounding the roasted beans by hand could become a tedious process, and it was definitely an arm workout.  And we had 10 kilograms of coffee to roast and pound.  Even though it was tough, we split it up over a period of several days (and really, it was more like several weeks), and made a rule to not drink any bokery or banana beer until the roasting and pounding of the day was done.  Here is me getting serious about the pounding:

Serious Pounding

From Tanzania to the States: The Numbers

From Tanzania to the States: The Numbers

24: Number of hours spent in Cairo

1: Number of flights barely missed

18: Number of people on the flight that was delayed

10: Number of minutes we missed the flight by

3: Number of times my eyes swelled up with tears before I even got out of Tanzania (The first was when we were driving by Phillip’s because I was really hoping to see the minibus parked outside; the second was when we were going through Arusha because I knew I wouldn’t see it again in a long time; the third was just at a random spot along the road where I was admiring the landscape of Tanzania.)

5: Number of hours spent on the shuttle from Arusha to Nairobi

11.5: Number of hours spent waiting in the Nairobi airport for the plane to show up (I was only supposed to have to wait about 8 hours, but the plane we were taking was late arriving, ironically enough, from Cairo.)

1: Number of Masai women that gave me a “gift” bracelet at the border and then asked for it back when I wouldn’t buy another one for my mother

87: Number of times I regretted not buying that bottle of Absolut vanilla in the duty free shop in Nairobi (Spending the afternoon in the sun always warrants a nice cold drink of sorts, and then when your night gets ruined by The Notebook coming on after Back to the Future II, a drink is just that much more warranted.)

3: Number of times I got a big smile on my face that wouldn’t go away (The first happened when we passed where the real Masai market is and I remembered when we went there and it was Sean’s first time driving in Tanzania and he drove with no hands; the second one was when we passed where we got dropped off and told to wait until Kaaya and Nelson came back with the papers they forgot in Arusha because TIA; the third was when we got to the town where you turn off the main road to go to Gilaibomba because I saw the name of the town and it is not nearly as weird and complicated as Scott and I thought it was but I still can’t remember what it is.)

1: Number of hot dogs that came with my breakfast on the plane

2: Number of men that have oogled over my eye color

2: Number of desserts I had at the buffet dinner (I couldn’t pick just one, and they were both delectable- one chocolate cake and one chocolate creme shit; plus, I kind of almost justified it because I had swam laps and my stomach was growling like no other and I had only had tomato soup, a plate of veggies, and some fruit for dinner.)

1: Number of people I saw snorting blow in a phone booth at the JFK airport

13: Number of hours I got to spend with Danielle while starting my adjustment to life back in America (I should have spent a day and a half with her, but EgyptAir just isn't cool enough to get me to New York on time.)

1: Number of flights canceled going from La Guardia to O’Hare (Meaning we could have woken up an hour later and still had plenty of time.)

The 25th Hour

(Please keep in mind that TIA ((This Is Africa)) when reading this story.)

This story starts with a 4:30AM wake up.  We were scheduled to leave at 5AM (or 5:30- the time changed a couple to times in the course of an hour the night before) to head out to Gilaibomba, a Masai village out in the middle of bum fuck Tanzania (BFT) where there is no power and dust is literally everywhere.  We were leaving before the sun was up (and predicting to be back well after the sun had set), so we had to bundle up in our warmest wind-proof clothes.  I looked like an absolute moron, but I wasn’t too cold (until the ride home).
 

Scott and I bundled up

We finally got on the road around 6AM and actually headed out of Arusha by 7, only an hour or two behind the original schedule. (TIA moment number 1- running late.)  (We had to stop a couple of times to pick up people that were going to be joining us on this fine journey.)  This was doing relatively well, considering the last time they went out to Gilaibomba, it was after 9 when they actually left Arusha.  So off we went, when somebody figured out that they had left some documents back in Arusha that were necessary for the hunting that was going to be happening while we were out in BFT.  They dropped us by the side of the road to wait.  (TIA moment number 2- forgetting important documents and leaving people at the side of the road to wait while you go get them.)  We only had to wait about 45 minutes or so before they were back and we were back on our way.

Once out of Arusha, there is close to nothing.  It is mostly just dust and some plants here and there- a totally different terrain than what I am used to up here on Mt. Meru where everything is green and lush and there is an abundance of banana trees. The sun had started coming up, providing us an amazing view of the Tanzanian bush.

Tanzania sunrise

To get out to Gilaibomba, you have to turn off the main tarmac road onto a dusty path-like road.  Once you turn off the main road, there is even less around, and if you have to pee, you have to squat behind a bush and hope a random Masai person doesn’t wander upon you.  I also got to experience my first ever dust devil!  They were amazing to see except when we drove through them and I got dust all up in my business. 

Dust Devil!!!

There was also some hunting going on on, and what is hunting without having a few Kilimanjaro beers?  (TIA moment number 3- using weapons while drinking alcohol.)  Watch for my future blog entry entitled Hunting with a Vegetarian for more highlights.

We finally arrived in Gilaibomba around noon, and we were sent out to go see the school that people from Peace Matunda helped construct earlier this year.  Frankly, I could have done without seeing it considering I have seen 17,000 photos of the place, but the walk was nice.  As Scott and I were leaving to go to the school, the others from the group were leaving to go hunting.  There were rumors they would either be back before we were or around 4 (which in Africa time means 5 at the earliest).  After we got back from the walk, we only waited about 3 hours until 5:30 rolled around.  That is when the safari jeep finally pulled up carrying not just the rest of our group, but also a nice sized wildebeest and a couple of gazelles.  (TIA moment number 4- sitting and waiting hours for people to come back, and then when they finally do, the vehicle is full of dead animals and blood.) 

The spoils of the successful hunting trip had to be cut up and divided before we left, and of course some had to be cooked for a pre-going back to Arusha snack.  Wildebeest liver, heart, and kidney were on the snack menu with Safari beers to wash it all down.

We finally got on our way back to Peace Matunda, but on the way out to the main road, we had to stop and hunt some more because they could still get some dik-dik with their hunting permit.  It took us three hours to get from Gilaibomba to the main road.  (TIA moment number 5- taking 3 times longer to get somewhere than it should actually take.) 

Once on the main road, we were flying.  We had to be going at least 100 kilometers an hour, and once we hit the wall of cold, it was well, really cold.  I was glad to be wearing long sleeves and two coats, along with two pairs of pants, shorts and a shuka over my head.  Just outside of Arusha, we get pulled over the police.  I don’t blame them considering the picture: Two mzungus riding on the top of a safari jeep and Bella in the back cuddling with a bunch of dead animals and a gun at 11 at night.  Kind of shady looking, I’d say.  But it was good they pulled us over because we were also out of gas. TIA.

While we sat on top of the safari jeep waiting for someone to come back with some more diesel, Scott said, “If I wasn’t sitting here right now, I never would believe this happened.”  I probably wouldn’t have either, so I am hoping you all believe this story because, well, TIA.  Anything can happen.  And it does.  We continued waiting, and all of a sudden we start to coast.  Scott and I were just sitting on the platform on top of the vehicle, and all of a sudden, we were rolling down the highway.  I think the funniest part was that it didn’t phase us much that were coasting down a main highway while sitting on top of a safari jeep.  TIA.  We actually coasted for quite a distance (just short of 5k or so), but when we finally had to stop (because there were no more diesel fumes left to start the vehicle with) I got out and peed next to a water drain pipe.  (TIA moment number 7- getting pulled over by  the police and having to ask them for help getting to a gas station because you are out of gas and then attempting to coast your way as far as possible on the fumes that you have left and then when you can’t go any further, get out and take a piss wherever you feel like.)

Finally, around 2AM we arrived back at Peace Matunda.  (TIA moment number 8- arriving back a few hours after expected.)  We watched Bella drag in the wildebeest and gazelle meat and put it in the kitchen.  It smelled terrible.  Bella got to go to bed after that, but Scott and I had promised Paul and Kelley we would go to the airport with them at 4, so we didn’t go to bed.  We boiled some water, had some tea and coffee, and road along to the airport.  Both of us were doing ok until the 25th hour came along.  That is when we got kicked in the balls and fell asleep in the minibus leaving the airport.

Sleepy Scott

  Gilaibomba is full of dust, and ergo, so were we.  After bathing my head finally hit the pillow around 7AM, and I was up again at 9 to do my washing.  Despite the absurd TIA moments, I had tons of fun, and I would probably do it again.  I would just remember to take a deck of cards to keep me occupied while waiting for the hunters to come back for us.