The Second Tanking

- Contest results so far - Self-soothing - Photos and a poem -

* * *

Writing contest summary statistics
Contests entered: 4/10
Contests complete: 2/4
Contests won: 0/2

Contest #1) Didn't win.
Contest #2) Awaiting results.
Contest #3) Awaiting results.
Contest #4) Not purchased. Didn't win.

My Super-ego is a little upset.
My Ego has authored the next section.
My Id still having fun, still learning and still has lighthearted expectations.

Any wagers on the 2 contests in progress?
I will give you odds of 1/300 for #2 and 1/10,000 for #3.

* * *

Sometimes victories are not found where you are looking. Sometimes they come and tap you on the shoulder; you turn your head and are pleasantly surprised by what happened to your right. Sometimes they fly in from the far left and knock you over.

The first minor victory that makes me happy is explained in my last post. (You should be aware of my bias: I value the opinion of Google as the most-awesome search engine out there.)

The second victory is on Helium. Despite the 2 failed contests, there has been some progression since my last analysis of the Helium sphere. First, I achieved 2 writing stars with only 9 eligible articles (I have 11 now). The calculation of this I can not explain, but it is a measure of the quantity and quality of your Helium articles. Most users seem to get 2 stars after 30 articles and since I did it with only 9, I think that is good. Second, I mentioned back in April that my essay percentage was only 48%. Today, after reading and revisions, it is a big fat 92%. I guess I can say I have learned a bit how to write to this audience. Small, but it soothes.

* * *

I just returned from 1 week in Garbatulla. My last week in Garbatulla. My contract is complete on 30 June 2010. I have a long history with the Kenya Mission of ACF. I started here in 2006, came back in early 2008, and then came back again in July 2008 to be the WASH Coordinator, which I have done for the past 2 years. I am happy. I am nostalgic. I am ready to go.

I see many countries out the windows of Land Cruisers. Going a little too fast:
Mis-spelled signs.
Half built cement buildings. Half falling apart mud buildings.
Goats. Camels. Cows. Sheep. Skinny, fat, pregnant, as the seasons change.

Dusty men pissing. Dirty men pissing. Men pissing. The most common sight. Disgusts me. I don't want to see the stream of your piss. I don't want to smell your piss on the wind. I want you to have as much dignity as the women.

Dusty, wrinkled, calloused women. Bent forward with straight backs, always lifting up the house. Her faggot; heavy strapped to the head. A pile of grass, only legs are visible. Yellow plastic jerry cans of water. A child.

A Kenya Picture Poem:

Kenya is iconic Africa

Savannah grasses

Flat topped trees

 Elephants lumbering through vines

Silent only becuase we didn't stop to listen.

Communities
make thier houses out of white dust
and iron sheets.

The mother cracks stones

hammer on old truck parts

pliers prized possesion

sorting saphires on a worn mat.

Because
the left hand is stagnant

while the right hand evolves
and the head is on backwards
this country
explodes

in a thousand directions.

pure ego

I confess that more than once since 1999 I have googled my own name.
If you haven't googled yourself (but you know you have...) you should: it can be fun.

Where do I stand? 
I now know there is an electronic musical artist named Mark Trayle.
I was disappointed when Trayle.com started: a travel diary site. Thieves.
It used to be that you had to wade through all those sites and references to find anything about me or you had to google my full name - in quotations.

Today, I googled just my first name.
No Kulshan. No quotes. No "and... bla bla bla."
Just my name.
And hell if my blog- this blog- is not first on the google list.
This is some kind of egotistical victory.
I am basking in googletistical glory.
And I am okay with that.

Note that this of course is not a constant, tomorrow or the next I might not be first on the list, but still this was cool! And just shows an evolution. A progression. A change.

Thanks for visiting. Please come again.

4 for the score

 Contest #4) I may be cheating on this one, but I think it is okay. On Helium they have what they call a "Marketplace" where publishers post articles titles they want written to. Then in theory, the publisher will choose one of the articles to publish - and they pay you money - 32 big ones riding on this one. Nice. Also, I think the turnaround time is quite quick, so my poor ego will quickly be either slightly hurt or 32 bucks richer. This is not a contest, per se, but it is a competition - so I'm letting the rules slide.

The really moving article title is "Garden gifts for Dad this Father's Day." How mundane is that? But this is part of the challenge. I have no authority here. My dad neither gardens, nor gives a hoot about gifts. He is way too cool for that. Let us continue.

One must be able to write about anything. I remember in college, one of the senior members of the lit mag staff said: "If you can write a poem about a cup of tea, you can be a poet." I did write that poem; it probably sucked and who knows where it is now... I may have to try again.

Do check out my Helium article on "Recipes: Great ways to cook muskrats."

 * * *

In more exciting news... On my drive "up-country" from Nairobi, I saw an ELEPHANT! In the wild, my friend, au natural. Moving so slow as we zoomed by, it moved me a little. Just hanging out by the side of the road. I got a photo of its butt, which I will post (in all it's anti-climatic glory) but the internet is by cell modem for the next week, so I am slightly handicapped. I saw baboons too, but they aren't quite as magical as an elephant. 

There was also a boat in a tree and roofs without walls...

I am also working on my manifesto. Mario, my husband, and I are involved in a friendly manifesto competition (we are truely made for each other)... but I won't count that as one of the contests.

An Optimistic Pre-quel

Back in 2006, I arrived in Kenya and was on my way to the wild northeastern bush- Mandera. I didn't know much about Kenya or Nairobi and, more importantly, I didn't know much about Mandera... just that it was dry, there was a strict curfew and nothing to do anyway but sit on the roof and gaze over the hills at Ethiopia or Somalia. I'd need some entertainment.

In preparation, I dutifully went to the bookstore downstairs from the movie theater and started picking stuff up.

It was here that I discovered "Kwani?" - the Kenyan literary magazine.

It is full of fantastic writing in English, Kiswahili and Sheng (an evolving slang language of the youth). Okay, let's be honest, I can really only say the English is entertaining, I can't read Kiswahili or Sheng.
It has poetry, stories, cartoons and other sort of creative stuff.

It has a pulse.
It is political.
It is gives an insightful perspective into the thoughts of Kenya and - to me personally - a bit of optimism for this country.

Since the post election violence at the end of 2007 (see Kenya Quickie)- Kwani? has sponsored and lead some of the most moving efforts at showing and questioning what really happened to people, as well as peace building and reconciliation through art. Take a look around thier site.

So there I sat on my way to Mandera with the 2005 edition of Kwani? in hand, in a yellow, 7-seat, twin-prop plane. There were plasic jerrycans of fuel stored in the nose and wings of the plane. The fumes wafted back. The big people were spaced in the plane to balance it out. Someone's daughter was on the lap of the Head of Mission. It flew low but finally did make it. The flight was 5 hours long (or more?) and I didn't read a page. An interesting beginning to my relationship with Kenya...

Since then, there has been at least 3 more Kwani? published, as well as some feature length books, some of which I bought - and then at some point I seemed to have lost or given away somewhere.

(And a historical note, it was on my way out of Mandera when I started this blog.)

My first buck

* * *

Business, first:

Contest #1) Helium… That's where it started, and it will apparently continue into oblivion, but is none-the-less an interesting background to my adventrue in writing. I haven’t submitted anything new here since the last posting, but I am earning good money. To date: $1.05, at this rate I'm going to need a piggy bank! The biggest earner by far is my masterpiece on beauty tips- more than 1/3 of my total earnings are from this article alone. How about that. Deep. Fufilling. $1.05.

Contest #2) Poetry contest for charity… 2nd round of cyberetic-domocratic judging completed. The quality of poems is better in this round, so I guess that should give me confidence in the merit of the contestant-come-judge approach. There is no feedback from the contest organizers if you passed to the second round or not, so I have no idea what people thought of my poem. I will only know if it passes to the final 12 in the next few weeks. If not I will never know how far it went. Oh woe goes the fragile Ego who sits atop her fence.

Contest #3) The more professional poetry contest… No idea. The contest is closed, and if I don't win then I don’t expect any feedback. Wish I had a clue. Wish I had a chance.

Both #2 and #3 should have results in July. I am honestly pretty nervous at the idea of the outcomes. Discouragement? Depression? Elation? Egomaniacal striation?

 * * *

Writing, second:

So, the artist. Is so deep. Is so idealistic. The process is supposed to be moving and personal and involve a muse. The artist is not supposed to create for the audience or for appreciation, but for the pure and simple joy of creation.
Creation of any sort seems to involve some evolution.
And evolution involves some reflection and adaptation and revision to improve upon that creation. And sometimes that involves some sort of opinion that is not your own. Which by definition is involving the audience and by-passing the muse and maybe isn't so deep. But it's still being an artist, I think.

So here is some creationist evolution by an amateur artist who is perhaps not so idealistic.

Here are two versions of something. Which do you think came first? Which one do you like better? Did it evolve at all? Should it have even been created?

*

Shifting nomadic sporadic emphatic
transient walking with steps automatic
a basket a bundle a trundle crate casket
reflective packing with questions to ask it

I tell myself I am not in the race,
not influenced by the incompetence
of the electoral college, not capitalist, not racist, not American.
I tell myself I am not in the bottom,
not affected by the incompetence
of taxes called inflation, not corrupt, not tribalist, not African.

*

I tell myself I am not
in the race, not
influenced by the incompetence
of the electoral college, not
capitalist, not racist, not
American.
I tell myself I am not
in the bottom, not
affected by the incompetence
of taxes called inflation, not
corrupt, not tribalist, not
African.

*

Here is my answers to my own questions: I sort of like the two part one because it is more playful, but it doesn’t seem finished yet, needs more to make it strong. The bottom one seems to take itself too seriously, trying to be deep, trying to speak for everyman - but could be complete as it is.

* * *

Personal, third:

We are moving. My next 3 months are pretty unclear, but (as life seems to keep on going whether or not one has a plan) the next month promises much more excitement in my life than just the outcome of the second two contests. I will definitely leave Kenya by mid-July. I might get a job. I might not. I might go surfing. I probably won't. Either way, there will certainly be some interesting blog posts. Currently I am a little bit reflective, as one tends to be upon the brink of leaving 2 years of inspiration, frustration and fun.

There is no fastlane

where 

potholes appear

with overnight rains, 

where

streetlights are standing

with bulbs dark, 

where

I saw a dead man

hit last new years eve.

Adventrue Numba 3

I broke the promise consciously,
left it without regard.
I promised pictures and rancorously
left my honor marred.
Can I make up for my mistake
with this stupid rhyme?
My life is dull, I could not take
an adventrue in this time.

* * *

Well the Helium experiment (from Contest #1) continues. I have learned that the first essay I wrote will never be removed from that site, and I will never be able to improve it! Damn, says my ego. Good for ya, says myself.

Still, the experiment continues. I have submitted a few more essays, just for practice. I have earned the first form of Helium-based validation - a "writing star" which means that I have reached some quantity goal while maintaining some quality of standard based on how the masses view my articles (poems don't count).

I have learned that when I write about stuff I do not really care about or about subjects in which I am not an expert, the ranking of my articles is much better. I am trained as a hydrogeologist and I am a weird and not-too-girly woman, but my articles about aquifers and water are apparently shit and my best ranked articles are about how to cook and put on makeup.

I suppose I must admit, in public, that I do love to cook (my stress relief) and I find getting all kinda nice-looking fun. I guess I am a little girly.

I also must somehow question, not the quality of the Helium site or the writing there, but it's purpose. I guess it is not meant for public enlightenment on scientific issues and that this is not the venue to achieve the goal of trying to convince stupid people that climate change exists. Which, you may observe, is leaving me somehow frustrated because there are so many crappy articles there arguing that climate change and global warming are myths. There are articles that are supposed to talk about aquifers, but go on and on about the "groundwaters" with heaps of wrong information. Arf.

I seem to have started that paragraph sensibly enough, but it degenerated into a rant. Drama can be good. But really it just proves what I said before, is that I guess popular writing is figuring out what your audience wants.

I feel some subversive energy coming on here.
I want to use bad english to explain the glory of science and all its uncertainties!
I want to use incomplete sentences to subtly insult creationists!
I embrace bad spelling because sometimes it makes life an adventrue!
Is that so wrong?

(Source: Adventrue is a brilliant slip that I have stolen from my mother.)

* * *

So Contest #2 is closed and I am now participating in the cyber democratic voting process. So far I have had to read 12 poems, in which I ranked my top 4. There were some good ones - as well as some true crap, which one will undoubtedly find where ever one endeavors to read anything remotely poetic. I think the winners are announced sometime in July. I will keep you posted on how the competition stacks up in the continued rounds of judging... I might not be so quick to use the word "crap" next time.

* * *

Contest #3) So, in all transparency I must disclose that between now and 20 May 2010 I will enter another contest. This one is also for poetry. It is different than the last in that it is judged by professional poets at a literary magazine. While a supporter of the cyber-democracy voting process of which I have been a part in the first two contests, it is my duty to choose contests with varied challenges.

As this is a pretty high level contest, I doubt I will have any chance and feel a bit foolish and freaked out. That said, my ego thinks it would be damn cool to get a nod from a professional, even if I don't win. I mean, I got to go all out and day dream.

So, on this one I enlisted a friend and a mom (my own mom) to rank some of my poems to help me choose which ones to enter. They also gave me some useful feedback on how to make them better. I was surprised to find they both had the same favorite, and it was not my favorite. I liked the one that was more personal to me I guess. I trust them on their judgment of the best.

After the contest, I will tell you which contest it was (with a link to the winners etc.) and I will also post the poems that I entered. I am not sure on rules, but it may be better to leave them off the blog until it is over. Same with the last contest. Frankly, I am not at all clear on what means the word "published," as to me a blog ain't exactly respectable literature. But who knows, the words are out there.

* * *

Fine. I give in. Here is a photo or two. My consciousness is not, in fact, rancorous.
But be aware, I am forced to recycle a bit for lack of adventrue.

This is me between 2 big ass tanks on some rocks in Garbatulla. Just doing my job. I was just looking, we didn't build these, the ministry did.

This is just a strange image that I like.

These are my new glasses. That may be as close to my recent medical adventrues as you will get without me totally grossing you out. But that would've been more fun wouldnt it?

Wanna be

Editorial Note: Africa heat poem has been removed temporarily.
Here is a replacement that is posted elsewhere.

I enjoy the warmth beneath
your purple cotton shirt
your double chin beneath
straight spiky hairs
your arm between
rough polyester
airplane seats.
I enjoy the stinging fear
of this surprising
intimacy.

* * *

I wanna be Bob Dylan. Not even original, but it's true. I enjoy most things in life, but sometimes I fall in love.  Once because of him. Last thoughts on Woody Guthrie is a masterpiece. Like "Tonight" below, it is better read aloud. Maybe that is true of all poems that move.

* * *

I am writing on the Mac today. My own computer, which ironically I am not used to. The keys are quiet and the screen doesn't flip quite to the right angle when I put it on my belly. But it's lighter. And looks cool with its little glowing Apple derrier.

I am using here to spit out words until they become a better poem. Sometimes feeling like someone else has read it, even if untrue, makes me want to revise something and make it better. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. If you look at the poems on my Helium page (explained below) you will find that most of it is revised from here.

What's with the lack of photos? Eh? Promises, promises, my dear. Okay. Fine. Next time.

21 cents and a poetry contest

So recently I may have said that I was "puttin' myself out there" and that I would enter 10 writing contests. Despite tanking on my first try, I will carry on. I will... (Ah I wanted to quote "Californication," but it’s definitely not appropriate, so I will simply...) continue.

I am having a great time at this. I have learned you need write to the right audience and I may be a better poet than esseyist.

Contest #1 (the tanker) was through a site called Helium, where you set up a profile (check me out, click on "articles" tab to see the writing) and you submit articles. Your articles are then rated by the other members against the others anonymously, double blind. Part of my duty as a member is also to fairly rank others against each other. Democracy. There is apparently like 400,000 members or some such mad number. So everything you submit is ranked by "the masses."

My conclusion about poetry is related to the rankings of my poems on this site. So far, I have submitted 4 essays and 4 poems. My essays are ranked at 48% and poems at 95%. Go figure. I didn't find my essays THAT bad! A little boring, maybe, but more factual than some of the competition... to be continued. You haven't seen the last of my science-geek-essay-writing-ass!

The other semi-interesting thing on this site is that they share their advertising proceeds with members (to be a member is free). I have, so far, made 21 cents. Does that make me a professional?

Contest #2) I have entered a poetry contest (MAG Poetry Compitition 2010 on PoetRepublic.com) which costs 6 pounds sterling and benefits MAG, a de-mining organization, which is a worthy cause which I believe in, especially having lived in Afghanistan. The poem must be unpublished and less than 42 lines long. It doesn’t have to have anything to do with Afghanistan or mines. Since it is a contest, I can not put the poem here on my blog until it the contest is done. The winners are announced in July. The judges are the contestants in another web-domocratic-double-blind-manner. So I am a judge. Wish me luck on my poem.

On anther interesting side note, this writing adventure has brought me a little closer to a friend, of course re-discovered through facebook, but who is sorta like me in exploring writing and who is very cool.

And to bring it full circle, her sister just started blog about bees, which is pretty funny. Why would you need 14,000 bees? But you just might.

* * *

I went to Oslo, where I went to the ICE BAR. eh. over rated. over priced. Cool to be in a freezer, but not worth 30 bucks.

* * *

I also went to Garbatulla again, which was very nice now that we have something to do!

Relentless. 

This photo shows

Drought, 

Flood, Drought

upon cornstalks.

Kenya is beautiful. From a distance.

Somehow I kept looking like a fat pirate.

Two things I like

On a certain 9 hour journey, I fell in love twice. I thought I'd share.
 
POEM : Tonight

by Agha Shahid Ali

I suggest listening to it, rather than reading. Or both at the same time.

MUSIC: Zoe Keiting
Very cool. The first time I heard it, I thought it was interesting and creative, but wasn't excited. Then I listened to it at 7 am, coming up from the arid Garbatulla to the misty mountains, lush and green. Then it became very cool and was a nice background to my journey. I love Legions (War). I guess it's mood music.

Puttin' myself out there...

I want to ask you a favor in a small adventure to either satisfy or break my ego. Read on.

So, I like to write. I like words. In the past I dabbled in literary magazines and participated in a fairly prestigeous writing camp. Not really been published, but sort of. I have this darn blog that not so many people read. Sometimes people find it entertaining and sometimes boring. So, I asked myself, if I want to write and say something... how do I know if I really can? Am I good enough? How can I get better? Does anyone want to read what I write?  Why? Why not? What do I have to say anyway?

Basically, this is my ego talking (yes, we all have one). So I thought I would look online for some adventures in writing. Can I validate myself? What's my direction? Is there some niche for my quirky style? Or should I continue to be satisfied writing for fun?

I am going to enter 10 online writing contests and see what happens... I will try to find a variety of them, but so far I am not an expert and there is a lot out there! (oh and by the way, no deadline... eh. I do have a job.)
As I do so, I will post them here and I will include the outcome.
I would love to hear what you think too! 
Tell me where you got bored, where you stopped reading.
Don't tell me what you liked.
Tell me what sucked.

Contest # 1)  I entered an essay writing contest for World Water Day. The audience wasn't totally clear, but to be less than 750 words. The results are announced the 9th, but I won't win, gosh darn it. Today (9 April) it is ranked 38 out of 105 submissions - and you have to be in the top 10 to be considered. Not exactly validation, I am afraid to say. But Fuck it, right? You gotta just put you self out there and let your ego take a thrashing.
So here is my entry, in all its sentimental glory.

(the title was given by the contest makers)

Inadequate access to safe water and sanitation claims 4,500 lives a day. What should we do about it?

Quick update: I changed the above to a link, as appearently this is better netiquette. 

The article has currently fallen to 87/103 (14 April)! I have gotten some great feedback, though and I will be updating the article once I am allowed by the site (when contest winner is announced). Stay tuned as my ego bashing continues. (Waaahaa haaa evil laugh)

Happy World Water Day 2010

'Tis the season... for a bunch of links. World Water Day 2010.

World Water Day is also know in some circles as World Whiskey Day. But honestly, the logic is a bit questionable...After you drink whiskey in order to save water, you are going to need a lot of water to get over your de-hydrating hangover.

Seriously... I won't quote you statistics (but I will link to some) but let me make 2 points:
People die from diseases linked to water.
People die fighting over water.

So again, I remind you that to save the world you need to focus.

Who doesn't love national geographic? I sure do...
National Geographic special issue on freshwater (March 2010)
I have been waiting for this issue on the edge of my seat... (yes, I am a dork.)

If you feel the need for statistics and sound bites:
Numbers Galore from Water.org
(I do not endorse Water.org for donations - of course I do not NOT endorse them - I just have no idea if they are reputable in terms of serving people with your money. They just have a nice list of numbers. If you want recommendations on where to donate money then ask me - but that is not my point here.)

I will write something more personal on water, but that will not appear here today, on World Water Day.

El Nino

And what of this... absence? I take no responsibilty, whatsoever. Though I have no excuses.
Past months in suspended animation, I should have made that time somehow.

Remember a comment on kidnapping? (On kidnapping) eh well. Phrophetic of course... An entry I started back in July: "I love my job. But there are days it makes me speachless and this weekend has been one. 3 collegues were kidnapped, to join others somewhere in Somalia. You get in the habit of sarcastic emails, farts and animal noises. You get used to disagreements with warmth."

I never finished the entry. A little scared of being sentimental, which is fine over a beer when the guys got out in October, but not so entertaining here. Frustrating this time has been. Stiffled, yet somehow free eventually.

***

Passing time is inevitably seen
blowing past a window screen
ostrich plumes and elephant tracks
crocodile teeth and camel backs
flat red roads run to rocky hills
drying rivers tests a mother's will
Got out to walk on black craggy stone
sometimes salt white, dust alone
water from rock where donkeys drink
blinding desert, pupils shrink
skinny man, his wives wash grime
parched and poor, not pressed for time

***

Drying Ewaso Nyrio River in January.
Today it flooded it's banks.
Precocious little bastard.

Spring in the middle of nowhere.
This photo does not justice.

Thirsty cows.
'Nough said.

Typical scene at a drying earth pan.
Little bit of everything.

animals

****

take a deep breath and clear your mind
but i'm in a smokey room here
i'm afraid of respiration
i can't make it to the door

not long to see the moon
through dust storms without lightning
i have lived through one or two
and i think ill see another

at the river bend
the water keeps its way down
keeps the wind clear from the smoke
keeps the mind from knots

***
Camels share a single cup.
***
Giraffes glide through trees with grace.

***
I walk the line.

The Marriage

Apologies. I have linked here from some other places, so I took off this most personal entry. Anyway, it was not so poetic or interesting unless you know me, same with the photos, and I think everyone who missed the marriage has seen the posting so, no loss. I have saved the photos and posting, so if you missed them, send me an email and I can share.

Thanks for understanding.

Kenya Kataclysm

Back in November, I took a little trip to Takaba. That is up in Northeastern Kenya where we have some cool programs running. It was in the rainy season and it was lovely... except the flat tires (that's the hook there, can't beat a little suspense).

***

On the road between Malkamari and Takaba:

There wasn’t much to see the second time round

Lightning still broke the wide skies, silent as the sun sank
We past this turn before, she thought
As roads became rivers, melting sand to glass pathways
without wind before but waves behind shifting beneath tires
Red to green muddled eyes climbed muddy trees
A wild grey cat in the shadows motionless watching waves
Rain and thunder joined the lighting and still no wind
Perhaps there is indeed some magic here to see
she thought the second time around


***

On Takaba by night:

Seems these days I don’t hear anything
Only silence and bullfrogs singing off the hills
Filled their ponds, their houseboats
Where are they in drought?

***

Takaba was cool (work wise) - except then it got hot (security wise) and we had to bolt out the back door to get back to Nairobi: via Moyale. Driving from Takaba to Moyale is only 5 hours usually, but it took us about 10. We braved the mud pits! Then we smartened up and just drove through the brush to avoid the mud pits, the drivers keeping top speed as not to sink... Then the epic of the flats began.

Two at a time - with only one spare (which is half flat, so really only a quarter of what we need)!

What to do? What to do?
(.... interlude under the only shade tree for several hours, talking human resources....)

Ah - Ha! What is coming over the horizon? That's a Matatu (local public transport, see photo below)! And oh what luck, the driver of this truck is a friend of our driver and he lends us his spare tire. And we are off again, with the matatu spare that is too big for our car and rubs at every turn. And our original spare is low on air, but it'll have to do... Ah - Ha! What is that bumping down the road? It is a BIG truck, and a nice one! They have an air compressor and are very nice and fill up our half flat spare... And we are off again...

As we roll into Moyale (a boarder town with Ethiopia that hasn't much to offer) the spare from the matatu gets a leak! But we tax the tires and keep driving, leaking and all, to the hotel and park the car at the police station just as the tire becomes too flat to move.
We have dinner at the Prison Canteen "under da shades" and da stars.

(Just a note, the next day I fly back to Nairobi and having been in the bush eating goat meat for a week, Mario takes me out for Sushi. On the way to the restaurant ... you guessed it! We got a flat tire! 4 and a half flats in 36 hours. That's a pretty good record.)

Back to Moyale, the boarder town with not much to offer, as I mentioned. Moyale by night is not an exciting thing. But we let sleeping goats lie...

This is our hotel in the day time. The hills in the background might be Ethiopia. They might not be. Who knows.

Moyale Intenational Airport, Gate 3, Boarding for Nairobi
The pilot inspects the plane before takeoff and seems to spy a problem.
"Is it gonna fly?"

Not until we get the cows out of the landing gear!

Just kidding! That's not really our plane (and that's not the pilot, it's our watsan engineer). That's a dead plane on the airstrip (no African air strip, dare I say airport, is complete without a dead plane or two, see blog of "Welcome back Congo").
We made it back to Nairobi safe and sound.

***

On Kidnapping:

Each time it seems to get closer; hoping it's an illusion
like when the moon is on the horizon and it seems bigger.

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A few months ago I had a blog about “Kenyan Quickie” where I described my rapid adventure in toilet building in the camps that developed when people were displaced due to fighting and violence after the 2007 Kenyan elections.

So… 1 year later. Those political folks in the elections found a “power sharing deal.” There is a report into the violence on the table, with ultimatums of a Kenyan tribunal or the Hague. Personally, I can’t help but be skeptical. Is there real accountability, real responsibility, real closure? I can’t help but feel sad; those who were harmed, stay harmed and they are the ones who want this peace, who want reconciliation, who just want to live the life they have or had, who want their sons and cows and sheep and houses back. There’s a lot of fear and a lot of hope and my biased, skewed and skeptical view won’t really help fix the hurt either way. And neither will all the 378 latrines we built.

And yes, so 1 year later and we are closing our programs in that area (Nakuru) because it is time - the emergency is over, things are getting back to "normal" and the situation is outside our meager mandate. You can only save the world if you're focused, you know. But we built a lot of latrines and showers and water supply systems, some trash bins and distributed a lot of tools, jerry cans, soap, water filters, and other hygiene products and to top it off a lot of hygiene promotion (awareness raising). So what was the impact? Why do we do what we do? Well, we just did a survey to find out – and here is what we found. In areas where we worked people are twice as healthy (or half as many general illnesses); there is 3 times less diarrhea for children! People are 4 times more likely to drink potable water. So that’s nice.

Like I said, you can only save the world if you're focused.

Nairobi - not so bad

Well life isn't so bad in Nairobi. Nai-robbery. We live in a nice neighborhood, in a nice house that comes with a dog (nice german shepard who's called Leo). We have a normal life. We go to work and come home to be together and say "how was your day, honey?" I cook, I do the dishes, he does the rest of the cleaning and the finances. Sadly typical, yet comforting.

Don't worry anyone, this is our house, inside a walled and guarded compound. You can't see this from the road.



Welcome, as you come in the door (which is on the side of the house)- here is what you see.

Walk across the room and look back, you can see we have a sweeet loft upstairs area....

And looking down from the loft on the living room.
But just when you get tired of the normal life- jonsing for some camel meat, scarred donkeys, diarrhea, cold showers, and the wind in your hair - a field visit to bases saves the day... Mandera, Garissa or Nakuru (and Mario heads to Somalia), just enough to spice it up enough to remind us why we love our jobs: the dusty, bumpy roads, big camels (cute and tastey), dirty kids (cute and funny), land cruisers, cement mixes and sunburns.

Just a little publicity

I am settled in Nairobi now, quite lovely and simple time for me.
I promise that this weekend I will put up some photos of my house and work!

In other news, Science Magazine (only the coolest science geek magazine in the world!) did a little article on careers in hydrogeology. I was included cause I have a cool career! With a photo. Nice.

Science Magazine - Careers in Hydrogeology Article

Good publicity for the organization and cool for me and my ego!

my brain

Brain Lateralization Test Results

Right Brain (66%) The right hemisphere is the visual, figurative, artistic, and intuitive side of the brain. Left Brain (34%) The left hemisphere is the logical, articulate, assertive, and practical side of the brain

Overall I appear to be Right Brain Dominant!

Right brain dominant individuals are more visual and intuitive. They are better at summarizing multiple points, picking up on what's not said, visualizing things, and making things up. They can lack attention to detail, directness, organization, and the ability to explain their ideas verbally, leaving them unable to communicate effectively.

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According to Darwinian theory, optimal evolution takes place with random variation and selective retention. The evolution savvy individual will try many different approaches when faced with a problem and select the best of those approaches. Many historical intellectuals have confessed their advantage was simply considering/exploring/trying more approaches than others. The left brain dominant type suffers from limited approaches, narrow-mindedness. The right brain dominant type suffers from too many approaches, scatterbrained. To maintain balanced hemispheres, you need to exercise both variability and selection. Just as a company will have more chance of finding a great candidate by increasing their applicant pool, an individual who considers a wider set of options is more likely to make quality decisions.

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Are You Right or Left Brained?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Welcome back Congo

Bienvenue au Congo! Where the time flys better than planes. Where the solution to everything is a laugh, and if you forget that you'll end up in tears. Where everyone suffers - from the suffrance.
Where you can find views uninterrupted by mens hands or feet or cars or houses. Where the forest simply goes on and on and ... is just simply there and green. Where the forest is a jungle.
(The texture on the photo above are trees and trees and trees! The texture on the one below is termite mounds!)

Where termites rule. Spaced approximately 50m apart termite mounds made the plains dimply. (Googlearth Rocks! Which you may already know if you're on Facebook and are my friend. Which I scorned in the beginning, as I scorn Harry Potter, but am now addicted to, although I still scorn Harry Potter.)
Geeky side note: Termite mounds are facinating. The dirt in the mounds makes good bricks because it is fine particles that are well sorted. They say the mounds can often indicate water at some accessible depth (if i had some time and money i'd like to check this out and see if this is true).

Some things never change- like bad but beautiful roads. Like driving on barely a road, horn blasting to warn those up ahead to jump out of the way and you come through a wall of elephant grass to find five ladies blancing on the side, up off the road with fish in a plastic basin on their heads, or men scrambling with their bicyles. Like talking about the crops that are growing as we pass. Like kids swimming in the river in the rain with their mamas washing clothes on this rocks. Like bridges that are barely bridges on the barely roads. Like never getting stuck (at least for very long) despite the barely roads and bridges.
Like the ubiquitous humanitarian bumper sticker.
No arms on board.

No arms. No feet. No noses. No regrets for that matter. No radio (just the VHF for communication, where sometimes you find the BBC). No sense. A little non sense.

A short history of me and the magnificent Democratic Republic of Congo: After Peace Corps in Guinea I got my first job with this NGO in DRC, based between Shabunda and Baraka in the province of South Kivu in (see Flashback post) in 2005, where I worked for a year. At the end of 2005 I went to another region of Congo (because it is soooo huge and has such difficult logistics, no roads, we have 2 missions here) to help them out. That was South, in Katanga province, where I stayed only a month (but where I met Mario). Then I headed off to Mandera in Kenya, where I worked for another year, and again at the end of 2006 I came back to help out again in Baraka and Fizi - back in South Kivu. Somehow in 2007 I never made it here. Then in 2008 I have been here for 2 months doing an interim stint as the Coordinator. Whew. I just can't stay away, I don't know why... it drives me bananas! I don't like the music (Well I do dig JUPITER (see photo below)! I am tired of corruption (but it's getting better). But something here keeps bringing me back.... the jungle, the vrai bush, and the laughter perhaps.

Kenya Quickie

I was back in Kenya for the past 2 months (February and March) for a short mission being the WASH (water, sanitation and hygiene) program manager of the emergency response programme for Kenyans displaced by the violence after the elections. (Mission in my job means "assignment" - I assure you it has nothing to do with "missionaries" nor "top secret" missions.)

What a great time. I have learned a lot and working in camps, which has been a new challenge. Here are some photos. I am a bit cautious to comment on generalities, as the situation is quite political. I guess what was important for my life was the pace of work, the lessons learned from colleagues, analysis, protection discussions. Most memorable were the smiles of those who'd lost everything or who brought it all with them, stories and laughs and wondering where the truth is...

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One man hid in a well for 2 days to escape people who were trying to hack him up. Then one day I saw a crow on phone line and it was wobbling, on the wire, all ruffed up with feathers sticking out all which ways, back and forth, about to fall off, back and forth.... And I thought of this guy in the well.

So with their houses burned they ran with nothing, or from just a fear of burning, rumors of burning they packed up their things. Some with nothing. Some with everything.

It is easier to show you those that packed it all up ... their chairs beds tv antenna , literately the kitchen sink.

Still smiling.

Not exactly welcomed to the stadium in Nakuru, but also not refused.
The showground had more people, although this picture was taken before they moved into this section of the camp. A bit strange like a ghost town for ghosts that have never been.
Some didn't feel safe in places like the showground or the stadium.
Some settled at polices stations all around the country, like this tiny group of ramshakle shelters made as just a roof from plastic sheeting with dirt floors. They felt safer there, the police to protect them, but they had no tents and rarely food.
In this camp (shown above) a baby had been born with no medical care available, the photo below was taken inside one of these tents with the mother (behind) and her sister holding the baby.
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My work entailed building a lot of toilets. I have never built so many toilets and showers and clothes lines in so little time. Here is a view from a top the water tanks looking out over the showground upper site - as you can see the folks had moved in by this time.
These are the water tanks from which the previous photo was taken. We, with the Kenyan Red Cross built the tanks and water supply. Good collaboration thanks to some speical people.