I'm an uncle (or an aunt)

Back when I was a sophomore in high school, I was having a conversation with my sister. She's nine years older than me, and just has a special way with words. We were discussing the fact that I had the same chemistry teacher she had had when she was a student, and the exchange went something like this:

Adrienne: Oh, you have Mr. Hunt, did you mention that you're my sister?

Me: Ummmmm, no.

Adrienne: Really? ...Why not?

Me: Well, I don't actually tell anyone that I'm your sister?

Adrienne: You--you don't???

Me: You see, Adrienne, I'm a boy...

And from that moment on, the entire family has refused to let that episode. For a minute, she seemed genuinely hurt. And I have to be honest, I have a pretty distinctive hyphenated last name. There aren't many people who miss that connection.

In any case, Adrienne just had a baby on Thursday October 28 (although on Tanzanian time, the baby was born after midnight, so I'm starting a campaign to celebrate her birthday on the 29th). A beautiful girl named Charlotte Abigail. And now, I'm going to have to fight to be called Uncle Daniel. Still, I'm thrilled to be an uncle and it was nice to talk to my niece over the phone the other day. I need to plan a trip home and see her. Check her out below!

Oh, and once again, Reuben's technical prowess saves the day. I've just learned how to link my posts as status updates on Facebook. Look at me joining the 21st century!

Work Permit!

I now have permission to stay in Tanzania for two years. It took a lot of paperwork and then waiting and also some "hidden costs". But it finally arrived.

In general, it's required for people on my class of permit to be focusing on skills-training, so I figured I'd attach a picture of me training our new sales staff on our sales entry system. It was a bit exhausting to do a 40 minute speech in Kiswahili, but I think it worked better that way. This week was pretty hectic with all the interviewing and logistics of people coming in and out of the office, but it looks like we have a good team moving forward.

Also, I hear that the camera adds ten years to the bald spot.

Oh, and in case you couldn't tell, my computer is working again! Reuben deserves most of the credit (he had a program that allowed me to boot so that I could run a file system check). It's nice to have him back (he got back on Sunday, right when my computer died) and living with us and joining our adventures. Of course, it also means that we're doing all the paperwork again to get his work permit...

New House

Well, my computer still isn't working. Apparently I just need to boot it from a Live CD and run a file system check. Too bad the Live CD isn't booting (I had this problem when I first installed the operating system). So, instead, I'm hanging out at the office for this update.

So we just moved to a new house. And when I say house, I actually mean house this time. My room is no longer a storage space for company equipment (so there might be a few boxes in my room, but nothing like before) and it's big enough that I can move around (and I can actually keep all my things in there instead of using Jodie's room for storage). Also, as an improvement over our previous place, the kitchen, sitting room and workshop are now three separate rooms as opposed to the previous multi-purpose room. And each of those rooms is bigger than the one that we were using before for all three (the workshop is supposed to be a garage, but that didn't seem like the best use of space). The rooms also come with cabinets, drawers and mirrors (which means I no longer have an excuse for my wrinkled clothes and ragged appearance--also means that it is much easier to put food and dishes away in the kitchen) and the house has 3 bathrooms (there are only four of us living there, but we're hoping for visitors, HINT HINT).

We moved to a new location called Banana (still in Arusha, though). We're a little further from town and the office (which is probably healthy) and we have a spectacular view of Mt. Meru. Jodie is thrilled to be free of the dust that we dealt with at our old place. I'm less excited about the mosquito insurgency. You see, mosquitoes commonly live around banana trees and I'll just let you guess how the location got its name. Also, as we're further from town, we're much more prone to water shortages. We have two huge water tanks to keep full so that we won't be caught without water. Unfortunately, we haven't managed to fill them yet, so we have to transport our water from town everyday. And as a major tragedy, we don't have internet at the house currently. It's been rough on all of us, since we are pretty dependent on it, but hopefully we'll learn some healthier habits in the meantime.

The moving process was something of a nightmare (though much less hellish than moving out of my Kenyan house or the first place we lived in Tanzania). We wanted to finish in one day, but that made everything completely hectic. I didn't have space to pack up my room, so I was trying to send my stuff in waves (bear in mind I don't have a lot of stuff, I was just in an incredibly confined space). But after the first wave, I discovered that they had thrown all my stuff into whatever they could find and sent it over to the house. This led to a lot of searching and discovering them in the most bizarre locations. Unfortunately, our internet modem has not turned up, and no one has any idea where it might have gotten to. As I mentioned above, this may lead us to reduce our internet dependence.

I've let Jodie take the lead on organizing the common spaces, but I took some ownership over the kitchen (it's amazing how much difference a little space makes) and I'll probably be in charge of creating a garden. I'm glad there's finally space to do that. The soil is pretty lousy, so I might start with potatoes, since I can slowly add healthy soil to that. But I probably need to wait until we have a plan for water.

I can't believe I forgot to mention the craziest part. The key ring is huge! We have two keys for our outer gate (my first time living behind a locked gate since I've been here), a key for the garage padlock, one for the front door, a room key, backdoor key and I think I'm forgetting one. Hopefully we'll make copies soon so that we don't have to figure out key choreography for too long.

Anyway, I'm sure we'll have lots more adventures to share in this place, so stay tuned and if you know any chants or runes that might be able to help my computer, that would be much appreciated.

Be Patient

Sigh, there's a lot of exciting stuff going on that I'd love to write about. However, I learned a valuable lesson this weekend:

If your computer works, maybe you should just skip the system update.

Unfortunately, I updated the system and now my computer won't boot. Apparently several people have had the same issue with this update. :(

Hopefully I'll be writing about everything again soon!

Car trouble times four

Last night, Jodie got a phone call saying that a friend was stranded a little way outside of Arusha. It was 9 PM, but we both immediately got in the car to help out. We left another friend alone at our house and told him we'd try to be back shortly.

We grabbed some diesel for the friend in case that was the problem and set out towards Maji ya Chai (literally "tea water", which I believe is a reference to the brown river nearby). Unfortunately, Jodie and I weren't actually sure how far it was to Maji ya Chai. And the road is not well lit at that hour. Also, our friend was out of phone credit, so we kept calling him to make sure we hadn't passed him yet. We took turns trying to keep each other calm about the whole situation. Our big concern was that the gas light kept going on and off (especially when we were on a hill) and the gauge was right at E. We passed a few gas stations, but we really wanted to get to Maji ya Chai first because we weren't sure what kind of situation our friend was in.

Finally, the gas light started staying on consistently, however, the gas gauge started rising. It jumped to a quarter tank and then slowly climbed to the halfway mark. At this point, Jodie and I had no idea what was going on, so we finally just decided to stop for gas at the first station we passed (the car took petrol so we couldn't use the gas can we had picked up for the other vehicle). The gas station was slightly more expensive than some of the others that we passed, but there was an attendant to wash the windows (there's always an attendant who puts the gas in the car, which makes me feel like I'm in New Jersey or something). The window-washing actually made a huge difference, as the glare through the windshield was almost gone and it was a lot easier to see speed-bumps as we drove on. However, we started laughing when we realized that adding gas (we weren't traveling with much money, so we only put in 1.5 gallons) had actually lowered the gas gauge.

At 9:40, we found our friends and discovered that there was a ton of liquid on the road next to their Land Cruiser and vapor coming out of the radiator. We learned that there was a problem with one of the belts and that they were waiting for the engine to cool down (they had been there for an hour). We also saw that there was a completely broken down car in tow that looked like it might get turned away at most junkyards. I asked one of the passengers and she said that they had had quite an adventure. They were towing the car from Dar es Salaam (which is over 500 km away) and had initially chained it badly, so that the beat up car got a dent in the fender when it slammed into the Land Cruiser. She further explained that the car had managed to turn on a few times and even drive a few feet while they were in Dar, but that it was definitely far from being drive-able.

About ten minutes later, the engine had cooled down and we were back on the road, feeling like we had come all that way and done nothing. After about 10 km, the Land Cruiser pulled over and they explained that the vehicle didn't have any more strength to pull the car, so we had a rather complicated Chinese fire drill where we all switched cars and attached the beat-up car to the one with the funny gas gauge. They explained that the problematic belt was the one that connected to the alternator, which is why the battery wasn't charging. Then Jodie and I hopped in the tired Land Cruiser and started driving. We just hoped for the best.

It was another 20 km to get home, and we realized that we couldn't actually stop or the Land Cruiser would probably stall again. Pretty soon, the truck was barely crawling along. We were amazed how much more juice it had after switching off the hazard flashers and headlights. Of course, that also meant that it was even more difficult for people to see us and realize how slow we were driving. But at least we were moving. I was watching the front window for speedbumps and the rear window for oncoming traffic to tell Jodie when to brake and when to flicker her lights, while she was concentrating on just keeping moving.

Mercifully, the Land Cruiser didn't die until we were going downhill towards our house. We managed to roll all the way to the entrance to our driveway, but that was uphill. I had advised Jodie not to park at the nearby gas station, since I wasn't sure it was a good idea to leave the Land Cruiser there over night. Unfortunately, as I soon discovered, even with four people, we couldn't push the Land Cruiser into the driveway (it was partially blocking the street). Our friend who was still at the house had been there for two hours at this point. So much for a quick trip.

The other cars arrived shortly after us and we opened up the hood and started cooling the engine again and trying to let the heat out of the radiator. We realized that the battery was dead and the old pick-up was blocked in so we wouldn't be able to jump it. So, in the end, we took the battery out of the pick-up and put it into the Land Cruiser. Once the Land Cruiser had cooled down sufficiently (another 30 minutes or so), we drove it the last twenty feet and parked it.

Jodie was pretty tired at this point (it was after 11:30 and she had done all the driving), so I volunteered to drop the passengers who had switched to the car with the bad gas gauge back to their house and bring the car back home. It was nice to be behind the wheel at this point, although once I started going up the hill, the gas light started up again. I made it home with the tank on E. And I was just in time for my weekly IDDS meeting, which mercifully ended after only 40 minutes.

Phew. Hopefully tonight is going to be an early night.

Election songs

This is one of my favorite Tanzanian songs. It's just super-catchy. Not actually great lyrics.

Unfortunately, it's not nearly as much fun when they change the lyrics to be the campaign song for CCM. There was a truck just now parked 50 feet from the office blasting the election version. Nine more days until this election happens. It can't come soon enough...

Dead Aid

Well, Jodie is out of town for a few days, so I did the first thing that most normal people would do with a house all themselves. I broke into Jodie's room and raided her library (okay, so I had the key to her room, but I could have also picked up one of the books I brought that I still haven't read). I haven't been reading many books for a while (I still devour The Economist), but I polished off a book in less than 48 hours (and I'm trying to decide what I'll read next). So, reverting to my old book review style, here goes.

*** Dead Aid by Dambisa Moyo - I'm pretty sure that this was the big development-book-worth-reading of 2009. It was written by a Zambian woman who has spent most of her professional career in Western financial institutions. Her central thesis is that foreign aid has pushed the African continent backward economically, and the only way for it to develop to its full potential is to bring aid flows down to zero. It's probably worth noting that when Moyo says "Africa" she is referring to sub-Saharan Africa. She never mentions this or explains her choice, and although I can understand why it makes sense in the context of the book, incorrect use of geographic terms bothers me a bit.

I guess it's pretty easy to get through a book that quickly when it's only 154 pages (plus foreword, intro and a rather brief set of citations). 154 pages means that the author is either very good at arguing her points, or puts forward some rather flimsy arguments. Unfortunately, in this case, I feel that it was the latter. Although I agreed with some of her major arguments, I disagreed with a healthy share as well, and the weakness of her arguments only served to make me feel more confident about my stances.

Many of the data she presented were put up without any citation. I suppose I could make some pretty compelling arguments if I didn't have to cite my data. She wrote a long section on how the Chinese are much more popular in Africa than Americans especially in terms of commerce. I can only draw my experience in three countries, but I've seen a lot of skepticism toward Asians (especially in rural settings, all people of Asian descent including Asian-Americans are assumed to be Chinese) where people will blindly follow the advice of someone who is American (which is usually a risky strategy). She even cites the example of Chinese built roads across the region and says that they are as smooth as the ones in California. At one point, I asked a Kenyan friend why one particular stretch of road was in such good shape. He explained that it had been built by the Japanese, so it was much stronger, while the Chinese-built roads are filled with potholes (and worse) before the next stretch of road can be completed. Regardless of whether his account was true (and I heard similar tales from many others), it hardly supports her statement that the Chinese are liked by most and much more popular than Americans.

She also condemned virtually all forms of foreign assistance, with only a slight mention of possible benefits that could arise from humanitarian relief (of course, the horror stories from humanitarian relief tend to be rather terrifying). In some cases, people arguing for modest budget cuts put forth the argument that it should be done with a scalpel, not with an axe. I feel that aid budgets should be cut with an axe, not with a guillotine. She acknowledges that there have been some effective campaigns, but feels that the abundance of overwhelming failures means that it should be foregone in all cases as the market offers more effective tools. I agree with most of it, except that I think that there are lessons from the success stories and the failures and a much leaner program with highly accountable officials could deliver some effective results. Moyo dismisses PEPFAR outright, while I feel that it has been one of the most effective campaigns to deliver anti-retroviral drugs to people living with HIV/AIDS (ARVs to PLWHAs for those who love acronyms), which offers tremendous benefit to both the donor and recipient countries (although the program certainly could be made more efficient).

I had to cede the point on trade and agricultural subsidies, since I know very little on those subjects. Still, I worry that her desire to end all US agricultural subsidies would be just as disastrous, and it comes down to finding the ones that offer a good return for the spending and cut the ones that don't. On the other hand, she picked a fight with Paul Collier on a point (I read The Bottom Billion two years ago and liked it much better) where it seemed like she was misrepresenting his argument. In fact, she brought in arguments from a lot of the major thinkers in this field and explained why they were all wrong and occasionally cited them when their arguments meshed with hers (and sometimes took jabs at them even as she was agreeing with them). As much as I love picking on certain people who she was picking on, I found myself mentally defending them as she tore them down.

Still, she writes with a voice that is easy to listen to. And she raises some very serious issues that warrant addressing. So while I would recommend picking up this book, I definitely advise doing it with a critical eye. Although she is Zambian (most of the other popular aid books are written by white males who have spent a lot of time in the system), at times, she seems a bit removed from the context that she is writing about. Her stronger credentials more likely come from her experience in finance and markets and lead to a book that focuses on markets as the solution to all woes.

A few overdue pictures

One of my friends from Unreasonable Institute does henna. She does it amazingly well. This picture is from June in Colorado. I might need to visit her in Pakistan.

Look at this! I finally posted a picture of Juju. I don't see him much these days, but when I used to see him every night, he definitely thought he was a lap dog. I miss the playful guy. Photo credit: Jodie

And will you look at that? It's a picture of me at work. I'm putting corn into our maize sheller (you can see videos of it in action on our youtube channel). This was taken in Mbeya back in May. Photo credit: Reuben

I feel so accomplished now that I can put up pictures. I wouldn't expect them too often, but I'll try to include them 2-3 times each month.

I don't understand ants

So I've had problems with ants my whole time here. I have to give them credit for their persistence. It seems like any food that contains sugar is not safe from their clever ways. However, imagine my surprise when I opened the salt container (probably the least sweet thing in the kitchen) and found it crawling with hundreds of tiny ants. I can't even imagine how they got in, since the container was tightly closed.

NB: I think this is the first photo I'm posting on here. Isn't it lovely? Well, I've tried a few times before, but with no success (just wanna throw it out there that I never had problems uploading pictures using wordpress, only blogger). My new recipe will be whatever pictures I can capture on my netbook's little webcam, will go up here.

Pay it forward

So I was never a big fan of Polonius. But his "neither a borrower nor a lender be" tidbit was some pretty good advice. In fact, that's one of the main things that stops me from supporting some worthy causes is that I don't want people to strain themselves to pay me back (which most of the people who ask me will inevitably do).

However, this week, my Tanzanian friend Baraka asked me for money so that he could buy a passport. I would not consider his one of the neediest cases that I've been faced with, but he had a few things to recommend him. First, I know how fortunate I am to have traveled as widely as I have and I am grateful for the perspective it has given me, so in that sense, I see a passport as a valuable educational tool.

Second, I know that Baraka understands my living conditions and can distinguish the fact that I live the life of a middle class Tanzanian, which is very different from the lifestyle of a middle class American of the sort who he likely sees hopping on safari buses in town or eating at the restaurants that most Tanzanian customers can't afford. And third, I knew that he understood what I meant when I told him that I didn't want him to pay me back. I don't want favors or repayment (I gave him 1/6 of my monthly salary, which covers only 1/3 of his cost anyway), I'd rather that he take the opportunity when he finds it to help someone to attain their own goal.

In any case, I consider this an investment. Baraka is a really enthusiastic break dancer, and I could see him packing up and starting a break dancing school in some new location. But in any case, the first time that he crosses an international border and enters a new country, that will be payment enough for me.

Other People's Homework

I was one of those kids in school who used to have lots of people asking for help with their homework. Sometimes, they were asking me about classes that I hadn't actually taken yet, but in almost all cases, I tried to help them however I could.

These days, I am usually the one who replies to emails with general queries for GCS. This week, I received an email from a university student asking some questions for an assignment from a class. If you ever find yourself in this position, I have a few pieces of advice for people who may need to ask for homework help in the future:

1. Don't just copy-paste your homework assignment onto the email. Scheduling an interview is better than a numbered list of 19 questions that look like they came right off of a worksheet. Also, looking at some of the questions, I have some doubts about the professor teaching the class
2. Make sure you know the name of the company you're writing to. I do not work at GSC. There is a company called GSC here in Arusha. Maybe I should direct future queries to them instead.
3. Most university students use their school email. It lends credibility. Emails from a Yahoo account trip some red flags.
4. Just wanna go back to the first point. I don't know if there's a rule for something like no more than 7 questions requiring a substantial answer in an email (especially an email to a stranger). Does anyone have a better rule? If not, let's make this 7 Questions rule official. Tell your friends about it. Extra points if you come up with a good name for this rule.

This is why I don't get invited places

So today I went to Belinda's send off party. Belinda is the sister of Oscar, who is one of my co-workers. A send off party seems like a wedding, though the actual ceremony is on Saturday. I guess I would describe it as a cross between giving the bride away and the bridal shower, but it felt like a wedding at several points. When Jodie and I first got the invitation (which looked like a wedding invitation), we actually thought it was a wedding seeing as it invited us to the ceremony at the church followed by a short reception.

Basically, we all went to the church as the priest blessed the bride (she had her bridesmaids and maid of honor there as well as friends and family, but the groom was not part of it) and conducted a fairly standard Catholic mass. And as Jodie and I were the only non-Tanzanians there, the priest made sure to announce to the congregation that Belinda had guests from America and Japan (actually Jodie is of Chinese descent and was born and raised in the US).

After this, we went to a big hall where the groom and his friends and family joined the group. There was music and dancing and speeches (a lot of speeches) and food and champagne and a roaring good time. I was a little out of it for the first bit of this. It was 9 PM before they served food, and I hadn't eaten much of anything all day (we expected a 2-4 hour event and getting home by 7) and the people at my table were starting to worry as I looked more ragged. But all of this is just setting the stage. The important part of this story is the gift giving ceremony.

Just before the wedding, Jodie and I bought a set of three metal racks that were hung in tiers by a chain with a hook at the top so that you could hang it from the ceiling (a handy way to keep pests out of your food). And then we went to the market and bought fruit to put into the basket. The selection of coconuts, avocados, oranges and bananas seemed like a really delightful arrangement.

Anyway, at the reception hall, the emcee was calling out guests by name and they danced down the center aisle holding their gift to present to the bride. There were cameras and a huge spotlight and it was a huge spectacle. One group danced down carrying a gas grill and burners, and another needed 12 people to carry a mattress, bed slats and the whole frame (that was pretty amazing). I've always preferred a lower profile, but I knew that we needed to participate in the tradition, so they called out Jodie's name and we went up with our gift. Our faces were already beet red as we reached the start of the aisle, and then after about three steps, the chain snapped and the gift was lying at my feet. I felt like I was simultaneously blushing while the blood rushed out of my face. We hastily picked everything up and danced our way to the bride and sheepishly presented the gift as she smiled at us.

Now, we can flash back a bit. The chain actually snapped in the car when we were trying to find our way to the church in the first place. Jodie thought she had it fixed, but when we got to the church, I discovered that it snapped again. I figured it was a weight issue, so I took out some fruit. This kept up until I had removed about 70% of the fruit. I walked around with it a bit to make sure that it wouldn't break again. I was so hopeful that I could just give them the gift without embarrassing myself. So much for that.

My friend Bernard had come to dance down the aisle with us, so I was glad to have a Tanzanian at my side when this happened. He pointed out that they'll all enjoy having a funny story to tell about the reception. And I think I learned that from now on, when I bring a gift to a wedding, it's just going to be an envelope with cash. Actually, it was really funny when they called for "everyone else" and a huge column formed of people carrying pots and towels and basins and lots of kitchen/cleaning related supplies (I'll stay away from commenting on gender roles for now). But I was just glad to make a quiet exit after the gift debacle (and the 7.5 hour event that we had expected to last 2-4 hours).

Lessons in Shipping

I went to the Post Office on Friday to ship two packages for GCS. It was quite an ordeal, and in spite of the fact that there was no line, it wound up taking over an hour. I arrived with open boxes for the Customs inspection (since the boxes were being shipped internationally), which was actually really easy. Then I pulled out my roll of tape to close up the boxes, but the lady on the counter told me that I needed to wrap the box in brown paper because it was so heavy (23 lbs). So I went over and bought a sheet of paper for each package. While I was buying the paper, another customer grabbed my roll of tape and applied it liberally to close her package. Then the Customs woman told me that I needed another to close it properly (effectively, I had to wrap it like a gift). As I tried to do this, I ran out of tape, so I had to go to the stationery store (which instead markets itself as a stationary store--lest one confuse that building with one of those stores that moves around) nearby and bought some tape. Then I returned, and the woman at the counter told me that my wrapping was inadequate and took the tape and applied it liberally to the package. After that, it was just a matter of addressing the boxes, filling out the customs forms, putting the box on the scale, and waiting as she counted at all the money in the payment (the cost of shipping was around $130, which required 39 bills).

After that adventure, I went to the bus station to ask about the cost of shipping a box to Mombasa on the bus. I described the size and weight of the box in question, and they said that it would cost 30,000 shillings ($20). An interesting price considering that if I were traveling as a passenger, I would pay 22,000 shillings for the seat and a spot for the same package. I don't think that the price was on account of my skin color. Rather, I think it was a testament to the fees that have to be paid to the officials at the border. Of course, on paper, it's free to move goods across the border. Someone should pass that information on to the border officials.

Locked In

It's nice to have an indoor bathroom with a wooden door. Definitely a big step up over my house in Kenya. However, wooden doors run their own risks here. Like when the handle stops working (my corrugated iron door just had a sliding latch, so I never had this problem). I felt pretty ridiculous in there and I asked Jodie to try using a credit card on the door. She couldn't get it to work (I probably should have coached her better) so she slid it under the door. I gotta say, it definitely doesn't work from the inside.

After a few minutes, the boys from the workshop unscrewed the handle and I was free once again. I think this is just more evidence of what I've argued for years. Showers are dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.

Rush Hour Ugliness

On Wednesday afternoon, I was heading to town in a dala-dala. Heading uphill toward town, there was a tractor parked on the (non-existent) shoulder blocking most of the lane for oncoming traffic, which made the road rather dangerous as impatient drivers tried to get past. The driver of the tractor was sitting there smiling and even turned the key to show everyone that the vehicle was dead. The driver of the dala-dala shouted at the tractor driver "Move your truck!" and added for good measure "Then go and take a bath!" The other passengers laughed at this, but I was not amused.

Then, just when it seemed like traffic was getting better after we passed the tractor, a column of young men with rifles started moving through the street. The common outfit revealed them to be soldiers, but few of them could be considered marching, more like trying to keep up (to be fair, I would probably be a lousy marcher as well, but I don't think that narrow city streets at rush hour are the best place to practice). At first glance, it looked like most of them were in their early teens, but I was relieved when we moved closer and I saw that most of them were probably around 20. Unfortunately, there was no way to pass them, so we had to follow them at a slow jogging pace until they turned onto another street.

But as we were tail-gaiting them (yep, the vehicle felt compelled to drive right behind them) a bicycle was riding alongside us on the (still non-existent) shoulder. I'm not sure if it was boredom or something else, but the driver decided to steer the vehicle (remember, this is a full mini-bus) right at the cyclist. He tried this twice and the passengers just laughed as he did it. The cyclist struggled to keep his balance while avoiding getting hit and shouted at the driver "I hope your car breaks!" The passengers just laughed harder.

I thought about getting out right there and finding another vehicle, but I knew it was a bad idea to engage with this driver. It's a shame that the other passengers encouraged him. In some ways, I was even angrier with them. I was glad that the last five minutes of the ride were uneventful, but I was disgusted by the whole scene.

Inroduction to BRAC

On Thursday I had a meeting with BRAC (they are an enormous NGO with a low profile but a stellar track record which originated in Bangladesh, but now has branches in several countries including Tanzania) about working together since they have strong connections in rural communities and a good track record in helping people gain access to credit.

I was supposed to be at their office at noon, but I couldn't actually leave the GCS office until a couple minutes after 12 and I still needed to travel about 2 miles. I took a bike so that I would be less than an hour late (which many Tanzanians would consider to be still on time). Unfortunately, as I quickly discovered, the road to their office is pretty much directly uphill (much of it at a healthy grade) and I am not in great shape. I got rather lost on the way and my whole journey took an hour and I arrived dripping with sweat.

I had to ask a few people for directions. Most people had no idea what I was talking about. The ones who did would ask "Oh, the place with all the Indians?" I would always say yes, even though I suspected that the employees in question were probably Bangladeshi.

Fortunately, they were still at lunch, so I had time to catch my breath. I greeted the secretary in Kiswahili and she told me that everyone was at lunch. I explained why I was there (in Kiswahili) and gave her a general picture of our work at GCS and she asked me to wait until the director arrived. Then she paused and looked at me and apologetically explained (in Kiswahili) "I'm sorry, the director of the office does not speak Kiswahili, he only speaks English." I laughed and assured her that I can in fact speak some English in addition to my Kiswahili. I was rather flattered.

It was a good meeting with the regional director and we discovered that we had a mutual friend in Bangladesh (well, I only know one man in Bangladesh and he works at BRAC, so it wasn't a huge stretch). Then I hopped on my bike and rode back to the office in ten minutes and I barely had to pedal the whole time. That was a fun ride!

Intolerable odor

On Wednesday night I decided to make some honey mustard chicken for dinner. I've gotten pretty comfortable with the recipe, so it's generally automatic. This time was the first real hiccup I've had with the dish.

In order to make the sauce, I add one egg. We buy our eggs in sets of 30 and keep them next to our refrigerator. They last for about two weeks, and we typically go through them faster than that. Keeping eggs in the refrigerator seems like such an odd practice to me at this point.

So, back to Wednesday. We were on the last of our eggs and it had only been a week and a half (for those worried about my cholesterol, that's an average of one per person per day). Now, our refrigerator radiates lots of heat, which goes directly to where the eggs are sitting. I went to pick one up and the bottom half stayed in the carton. And the entire kitchen reeked of sulphide from the black spots on the green yolk. It was horrible. And Jodie and I couldn't stop laughing. We put some baking soda down for the smell and I slid the fridge slightly so that the heat would escape in the other direction.

In this case, I'd say our fridge caused the mayai mabovu (rotten eggs), rather than preventing them. Oh well, lesson learned.

Good start to October

Well, September did not exactly end on a high note.

Sleep is pretty hit or miss for me. The other night I was woken up by the sound of gunshots. I was anxious at first, but then I remembered that I was in Tanzania (in my six months here I've never heard actual gunfire). I quickly found the source of the noise. One of my co-workers had left his phone in the workshop and for some reason had selected machine-gun fire for his ring-tone. And I have no idea who thought it would be a good idea to call him at 1 AM, but they certainly did not endear themselves to me.

The previous night, I had a customer call me at 11:30 PM. It was pretty garbled call, and he even tried calling me again and asking me to call back. I told him I would talk to him during business hours the next day. I somewhat regret the fact that my phone number is on some of the company's promotional materials, but only because I value my sleep. I also had some issues with sleep because power outages* through off my work schedule and made me miss my last two IDDS meetings :(

Anyway, October has been much better. There was a certain tone of urgency at work to fill a large order, but fortunately some of our long-standing accounting mysteries are sorted out and we've put some simpler systems in place so I will be spending much less time working on that (read: banging my head against the computer monitor). I have some exciting projects in the pipeline which will allow me to interact with people more and my computer less. Tonight I spent a bit of time soldering (more to come tomorrow, likely). Not exactly a typical Saturday night, but I was happy to revisit a skill from much earlier in life.

Also, food has been pretty amazing. So I know most people discourage my lifestyle, but I make do on two larger meals a day (for people with different living situations, I'm sure five or so smaller meals is a much better option). We're two days into the month, so I've had four meals.
#1: Pilau (basically the East African version of pilaf), which is one of Tanzania's richest meals. I kinda wished it was spiced a little more and had a lot less oil, but I'm always grateful for other people's cooking. (NB: If you look at the recipe in the link, I can assure you that the sort I eat is much less fancy).
#2: Quiche. I was reading through the Peace Corps cookbook and realized that the recipe seemed doable. Certainly not as fancy as American quiche (I used day old milk which had already separated instead of cream, for example), but the crust was actually pretty amazing and we were thrilled by the taste. Jodie would probably invest in me if I opened a restaurant here :) , though my failures are often as spectacular as my successes.
#3: Cheeseburger and a milkshake. It was a long week at work, so I decided to treat myself to lunch in town. It wasn't the prettiest burger I've had, but it really hit the spot (especially since I hadn't eaten for 18 hours at that point). I can't say that I would recommend the fries, however. I'm a much bigger fan of African style fries (I suppose I should say chips, as that's how people refer to them here), and they usually have pretty lousy American fast-food style fries.
#4: Steak with steamed broccoli and carrots. My friend Mic is Tanzanian, but is much better at making "American" food than Jodie or me. It was amazing. Steamed vegetables might be the next big thing in our kitchen :)

And I'm on a quest to meet some new people here in Arusha. I figured I would start at the place where all the cool kids are sure to be found: the library. Today I left work a bit too late, but at least I learned the hours that the library is open. I also visited the Alliance Francaise (I don't know where to find the cedille to spell that properly), which was closed as well, but that's a bit closer to my house, and could give me a good opportunity to get some of my French back (July was an unfortunate reminder of how weak my French has become).

Yep, October is shaping up to be a good month (knocking on wood), so stay tuned!

* Power outages are supposed to be rare as an election nears. The ruling party usually tries ensure that the voters have a very positive association with their tenure. It was surprising more for the timing than anything else (I'm fairly accustomed to unreliable power and can usually take it in stride). However, Tanzania draws a large share of its energy from hydropower (I'm a bit too tired to pull up a stat to back this up) and I believe that this is the time of the year when the rivers run the slowest. Here's hoping the rains pick up soon and get us going again!