Twice bitten, once shy

Piki Safari

2006-12-11T18:28:00.000+03:00

Shortly before leaving Tanzania to visit my brother Nate in Kenya (you might remember him from trying to make a pet out of a skunk), he called me to let me know that we would be borrowing a few dirtbikes and going on a multi-day piki trip 1 (footnote).

Before I tell the story, there are a few basic things you have to know about Nate:

1) He only has one speed and that is all-out.

2) Put him on anything with two wheels and the velocity intensifies by several factors.

Chasing Nate on a motorcycle is an adventure in itself but doing it through rough terrain (to put it mildly) on an unfamiliar bike, in an unpredictable place with potentially severe weather is borderline suicide. However, I've been chasing him my whole life and I made it this far so why not roll the dice again?

The trip started with me forgetting my driver's license and my big brother going to fetch it alone to save time. This provided an excellent chance for me to converse with our third riding partner, Rodney who lives and works at Rift Valley Academy (RVA) with Nate. Our short chat turned into a leisurely breakfast after Nate called to report that he had a flat tire and needed to stop and repair it. Eventually things got underway again and we stopped only to visit the beautiful Thompson's Falls (see picture with Rodney and I) and refuel the bikes.

We were headed North somewhere in the lands of the pastoralist Pokot people when we came across a large herd of goats meandering across the road. Nate, in the lead as usual had managed to push all but one big billy goat to the left of the road as he went past. I was next and knew the billy wanted to be on the other side with his ladyfolk but he wasn't moving and I had a full head of steam so I decided to go for it. When I hit the throttle, the goat started moving diagonally across the road and to my horror, as our potential intersection approached he picked up his pace. By the time I realized that a collision waseminentt, the goat was moving at such an angle that my choices were limited to going left, off the road and taking my chances with the thorn trees and the rest of the herd or bearing right and effectively side-swiping the goat. I side-swiped the goat, kept on the road and watched it roll a few times, jump up, nearly get run over by Rodney and then scamper off to be with his beloved ladyfolk.

Aside from that, there weren't any major incidents, but plenty of those minor close calls (that characterized so much of my childhood) directly associated with moving at an unreasonable speed in order to keep pace with Nate . I did go down with the bike a few times while moving through thick "black cotton" mud. We were going relatively slow but fast enough to rip through my rain pants, drawstring trousers underneath and a good patch of skin on my knee.

During the trip, we covered almost 500 miles of ever-changing but consistently rough country and encountered lots of wildlife at close range including two impala that gracefully leapt across the entire road only 15 to 20 feet ahead of us. We also spotted zebra, elephant and lots of birds. It was a fantastic trip and aside from the few near-death-experiences, it was care free and almost reminiscent of days gone by before complicated and confusing terms like "rent" and "taxes" were part of my vocabulary 2.

1. There is a saying in Tanzania that goes, "Swahili was born in Zanzibar, raised in Tanzania, killed in Kenya and buried in Uganda." The correct Swahili word for motorcycle is "pikipiki" but this is conveniently shortened to "piki" in Kenya.

2. Thanks bro for always giving me somebody to look up to, for never giving up, for consistently pushing me to try harder and for always being able to take me back to the "good ol' days".

Wooh wooh! Be wise! Enjoy your Toilet Minutes!

2006-10-31T12:26:00.000+03:00

One thing I love about Tanzania is that in any given day there is a chance you will see something so outrageous or unpredictable that it will brighten up your entire outlook on life for at least three days.

Such a thing happened to me last week as I was visiting friends at the University of Dar es Salaam and I am still riding the wave of pure entertainment bliss.

As if the heading of this official University posting was not hilarious enough, the instructions on how to use your toilet properly are more than enough to steal the show.

Personally, I never leave the toilet un-flashed but I have used hard materials to clean my ah aah, so I found that to be a useful tip. I am not sure about how many used materials it takes to cause blockage in the bathroom but people must be leaving a lot of toothbrushes and soap on the floor. Finally, it is truly reassuring to know that when the inevitable water shortages come, the latrine-pits behind Block B are ready for me and more comfortable than how I can imagine.

Goat leg anyone?

2006-10-30T11:54:00.000+03:00

The other day, I went to visit my Canadian friend Dennis. We had a delicious pasta cooked by Sara, a Danish girl doing some volunteer work in Tanzania and renting a room in Dennis' house.

Dennis had invited some other friends over as well and we needed to get more food but felt too lazy after eating. However, after listening to everyone brag about their country's free healthcare systems and lack of war, I made an un-PC joke about Danish cartoons. Sensing that I needed to get some fresh air, Dennis suggested we head down to the local bar/BBQ to pick up some food.

The plan was to acquire several servings of chips (fries), some roasted chicken, mishikaki (kebabs) and a few drinks. However, when Dennis and I arrived at the barbecue pit and saw an entire goat leg succulently roasting over the charcoal grill our carnivorous instincts took over and all the plans went out the window.

The initial reaction at home was mixed when we returned with nothing but a hulking piece of red meat, complete with furry hoof attached. However, Dennis' enthusiasm quickly spread and we went out again to get drinks. Everybody was happy in the end, especially the dogs who enjoyed chewing on the bones.

If you thought there was going to be a point to the story, you are going to be disappointed because there isn't one. It has just always been a dream of mine to have a picture of myself holding a goat leg and talking on the phone with a cheesy grin on my face posted on the internet.

World Cup photo

2006-10-20T14:21:00.000+03:00

World Cup - Germany 2006

2006-10-20T12:39:00.000+03:00

I know this story is a little late in coming but I figured it was worth a mention...

Right before my senior year in high school, my friend Ryan told me that his family would be hosting an exchange student and he encouraged me to do the same. When the program rep showed up at our house with a catalogue of young foreigners looking for a home, I succumbed to Ryan's peer pressure and settled on a girl from Thailand who from the picture and 3 sentence bio appeared to be a very interesting person.

My hopes were shot down by my parents before I could even articulate my thoughts (I guess they noticed me carefully paging through the girls section). Though slightly discouraged, I quickly gained enthusiasm for selecting a guest brother. As the dutiful captain of the high school soccer team, my initial thought was to find the best addition for the squad's strikeforce. A useful looking Brazilian caught my attention but in the end we picked up a German (not to perpetuate any stereotypes but sometimes you have to trade flair for reliability).

Jonas of course turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me and we shared my little basement burrow for the entire school year. He slept on the top bunk where he stashed his endless assortment of knick-knacks, trinkets, gadgets and above all tissues (someone misinformed him of their unavailability in the US, so he brought a year's supply). His collection and method of storage was a great source of amusement for me except for the odd occasion when I was awoken by a battery or graphing calculator that slipped off its precipice and landed on my face. There was also his perpetual tardiness and inability to gain consciousness in the morning which caused friction from time to time but in the end, it only cemented our bond.

We spent hours engaging in profound conversation and playing FIFA 2001 (I always felt I was the stronger player even though the results consistently cheated me). When FIFA announced that the World Cup would be in Germany in 2006, we made a pact that we would attend at least one match together.

Five years later, long after Jonas returned to Germany and shortly after I stopped finding packages of German tissues amongst my belongings, I resigned from my esteemed position of office temp at Citigroup in New York determined to fulfill my commitment, nay promise as a football fan and devoted friend by gracing the FIFA World Cup with my presence.

FIFA obviously didn't see the epic importance this quest as they failed to select Jonas and I for the ticket lottery. We (mostly Jonas) kept the faith and continued to apply for the second and third rounds of the ticket lottery in hopes that some fool might pass up on his or her opportunity or fail to take out a second mortgage to pay for their ticket.

In the end, the football gods rewarded Jonas' persistence and gave us the chance to attend the last match of the first round between two international football juggernauts, Tunisia and Ukraine. The match was decided when Andriy Shevchenko took a swan dive in the box to win his team a penalty. He scored to push his nation into the second round for the first time in their history. One journalist later described the match as the most boring of the tournament. It wasn't for me but probably because it was the only one I went to. I had a blast with Jonas and won't ever forget that day even if the match didn't have me on the edge of my seat.

Great friends, motorcycle road trips, sleeping on the beach and being awoken by angry nudist volleyball players, backyard BBQs, big nights out, the superb (and also lenient to fare dodgers like me) public transportation system in Berlin and 63 World Cup football matches made it a fabulous summer. In retrospect, I can't really thank you guys in Germany enough...

My brother's pet skunk!

2006-10-18T11:12:00.000+03:00

Just when I was starting to feel a bit guilty about making impulsive, bold and irrational decisions and then turning to my wise and experienced father for advice, I opened my email inbox and found myself "CCed" on an absolute gem from my brother to my dad (affectionately called Bood).

For a little background information, my brother Nate lives in Kenya on the lip of the Great Rift Valley and often ventures forth into the valley looking for excitement among other things (which he usually manages to find). Bood wears many hats but one is that of a veterinarian who despite his deep affection for Curious George has always discouraged his children from having pets.

Without boring you to tears with any more personal information, here is the absolutely brilliant genius of an email that could only come from my brother:

Hi bood,
I should know better than to ask you this, but I have a question for you regarding a newly acquired pet.
Now that I've turned you off already, let me press upon the matter and mention that the pet in question is undeniably unconventional at best, and quite possibly unprecedented.
Without further ado, let me introduce our newest family member, stripes!!!

Seriously, I found this poor critter, mostly dead, wandering the valley floor, apparently lost and abandoned. My first thought was that it was a badger, but it took some internet research to determine that it is actually called a Zorilla, aka: striped polecat. You will notice that the name (as well as it's appearance) bears a strong resemblance to the North American Skunk. Herein lies the precise problem, as it's prominent anal glands also bear strong resemblance to aforementioned creature.
I had hoped to nurse the critter to health and dependence and then release it. Unfortunately, in the 3 days we've had it, it seems to have become quite attached to it's handlers, often crying until it is picked up and fed with a syringe of milk.
My dilemma is this: At what age is this thing going to be capable of really stinking? According to the internet, it will not be weaned until 18 weeks (it is approximately 7wks old now.) In that time, will it not become so dependent on us that it would not be able to survive on it's own? Even worse, might it cause a major stink also in that time period?
Having read that they are quite affectionate when domesticated, a small voice over one of my shoulders has suggested that I look into "de-scenting" the critter for the purpose of a more illustrious long term relationship. At what age would such a procedure be possible?
I know I shouldn't ask what you think, but what do you think???
Bracing myself...
Love,
Nate

Pros and Cons of living in Africa

2006-10-17T16:29:00.000+03:00

The Pros: This is the house I live in. It costs around $50 USD per month for me stay in that huge room on the second floor with the balcony. There are 3 football pitches (soccer fields for the Americans) nearby. The neighborhood is friendly, quiet (except for my lovable housemate Humphrey) and peaceful. The beach is 2.5 miles away and yes the house is just as nice as it looks.

The Cons: The nearest paved road and therefore the bus stop is a 30 minute walk away. Tanzania gets most of its power from hydro-electric plants and because of the low rainfall in the last several years there have been mandatory power cuts. In July, we had power every other day. In August, the local transformer was looted and we had no power at all for 3 weeks. These days, if we are lucky, we have power after dark and if we are even luckier, daytime power during the religious days (Fridays for Muslims and Sundays for Christians). I don't know about Hindus but I guess they are out of sh** out of luck...

Neither Pro nor Con: There is no running water in the house. Somebody tapped into the pipe somewhere along the line and there isn't any water pressure. Sometimes we can siphon some water through the pipe and into our underground reservoir. The best part is, I don't have to pay those outrageous gym fees anymore because I get an excellent full-body workout carrying buckets of water up the stairs to my room.

Kilimanjaro 2000

2006-10-01T12:55:00.000+03:00

Two years ago when I studied at the University of Dar es Salaam in Tanzania, I had the chance to be around a lot of people who liked football just as much as me. As a result, I got really into it and watched a lot of matches with a great atmosphere around me. I also noticed that most of the venues for watching games had small screens, not enough seats, couldn't operate without electricity (often) and were stuffy and cramped.

Since then, I have been dreaming about opening my own place for people to watch football in Tanzania. It has taken lots of time, planning, capital, negotiating and general hassle but the day has finally come.

I have rented a bar called "Kilimanjaro 2000" and installed a satellite dish, bought an electric generator, projector, speakers, amplifier, huge tarps to give shade for daytime matches, various cables and power regulation devices.

For each of these items (besides the dish and projector), I had to make at least one trip to the market area (Kariakoo) in Dar es Salaam. This might not sound like much but let me explain the typical experience:

You board a packed minibus (daladala) in the outskirts of the city and cruise along until you hit the city traffic. Keep in mind that there are about 40 passenger occupying a space designed for 20. Factor in the heat, dust, poor road conditions (to put it mildly) and sweaty bodies and you will see that this is quite an adventure. An hour and a half later you arrive physically intact (if not mentally) in Kariakoo and you have to find the item you are looking for. There are no signs, posters or anything to indicate where you might be able to find a large plastic tarp (for example). If you are lucky, your poor Swahili and hand gestures eventually lead you to a small shop or kiosk that has what you are looking for.

The owner of the small shop or kiosk has immediately sized you up for what you are, someone with money who has taken a lot of time and effort to find a large plastic tarp. This leads the owner to correctly conclude that at this point you are not likely to leave without the difficult to find item that you are seeking and have finally found. Then you begin to negotiate the price with the little bargaining power that you have.

Once you have purchased the large plastic tarp, you must carry it to the next packed daladala and prepare for the upcoming hour and a half journey. The whole process of buying a single item will take 4 hours on a good day and 7-8 on a bad one. Sometimes I miss Best Buy and Home Depot...

Now that everything is set up, I have to worry about getting enough customers to cover the setup and running costs. This is proving to be difficult but it has only been two weeks since operations started and I have a lot to learn!

At the end of the day it is all worth it because I can see a dream come to fruition. After I finish this post, I am going to make the 10 minute walk to Kilimanjaro 2000 and watch Manchester United v Newcastle on a big screen with a group of friends and other enthusiastic supporters and get paid to do it!

Kali

2006-10-01T12:32:00.000+03:00

In Kiswahili, "Kali" means sharp, fierce or harsh depending on the context. In this context, Kali is the name of an 8 week old German Shepherd puppy. As you can see from the curious/bewildered expression on her face, Kali is anything but.

She is my first dog and I had no idea how much work and responsibility it would be to take care of her but she is very sweet and I have always wanted a dog...

FC Barcelona

2006-09-12T14:46:00.000+03:00

For 106 years Barcelona Football Club has worn blue and red striped shirts with no sponsor.

This is because the team has long considered itself to be more than just a club. Barcelona is the capital of the Catalonia region in Spain which has its own language and culture. In fact, many of its citizens think that Catalonia should be its own country.

If Catalonia was a country, FC Barcelona would be its national team. Hence, no sponsor on the team shirt. However, following the club's landmark agreement with UNICEF signed by president Joan Laporta in New York last week, Barça will take to the pitch with UNICEF's name and logo blazing their sacred blau and grana jerseys.

Its a bit melodramatic if you ask me but Barcelona is the BEST team in the world and they do have the BEST player in the world in Ronaldinho so I think it is fantastic that they are using their popularity to support an organization that is trying to make the world a better place. By the way, the club is passing up an estimated $20 million a year in sponsorship revenue and is giving $1.5 to UNICEF.

Check this link out for more information:

(http://www.fcbarcelona.com/eng/noticias/especiales/UNICEF.shtml)

Family Safari

2006-09-06T10:19:00.000+03:00

Last month, my business parter Solomon (the one in traditional Maasai dress) and I took my parents and brother on a safari to the Ngorongoro Crater in Tanzania.

Within 15 minutes we spotted three female lions who looked to be stalking a herd of zebras. The lions walked right past our vehicle and towards a small river where we lost sight of them in the bush, but I was able to capture this close-up shot of one them!
We also spotted a bull elephant bathing in front of a small grove of acacia trees and a zebra drinking from the river while keeping a close eye on the hyena wallowing in the mud in the backgroud.

Ngorongoro Crater

2006-09-05T12:49:00.000+03:00

The Ngorongoro Crater is the largest unbroken caldera in the world. It has been described as one of the great natural wonders of the world. Eight million years ago, the Ngorongoro Crater was an active volcano but its cone collapsed, forming the crater that is 610 meters deep, 20 kilometres in diameter, and covers an area of 311 sq. km. Spectacular as it is, the crater accounts for just a tenth of the Ngorongoro Conservation Area.

The crater is home to many species of wild game and birds. Almost every species of African plains mammal lives in the crater, including the endangered black rhino, and the densest population of predators in Africa. The birdlife, which includes the flamingo, is mainly seasonal, and is also affected by the ratio of soda to fresh water in Lake Magadi on the crater floor.

Find out more: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ngorongoro_Conservation_Area

Liger

2006-09-01T15:28:00.000+03:00

This is a liger. Find out more:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liger

My friend Chris Carfagno at Citigroup educated me on the existence of this curiosity...

Eden Prairie Soccer Club

2006-09-01T11:12:00.000+03:00

Last year, the director for coaches at Eden Prairie Soccer Club in Minnesota sent out a group email informing everyone that the lost-and-found collection at the club was getting out of hand. He wanted to know if anybody had any constructive ideas for what to do with the unclaimed footballs and equipment.

It took a long time to find someone who could transport the equipment without costing an arm and a leg but eventually a family friend was able take everything to Tanzania for free. Another close friend was there to pick everything up and distribute it. His distribution strategy was to carry a ball or two in his backpack each time he left the house. If he found a group of kids playing with a home-made ball (usually made from plastic bags, tightly wound with string), he would present them with one of the donated footballs. Whoever lived closest to the pitch got to take the ball home but was obligated to let anyone who wanted to play borrow the ball. The picture posted is from one such group of kids in Tegeta (Dar es Salaam).

The initial reaction was disbelief and skepticism that anyone would give away something as valuable as a football for free. However, the kids soon became very excited and grateful. Many of them had never played with a real ball and they were eager to try it out. The footballs that were donated have become treasured community property.

I recently went to visit several of the areas where the balls were distributed and it was not difficult to find out what happened to them. Most of the flat open areas had 10-20 excited kids chasing around an actual football instead of a rolled up mass of plastic bags.

The enthusiasm and excitement at these "football pitches" is contagious. The spirit would be there without the generosity of those who helped out but the footballs would not. These talented and enthusiastic kids can finally play with a real ball thanks to:

Wayne Harrison - for making the balls and equipment available
Daryl Rustad - for going through the hassle of bringing them to Tanzania
Henry and Humphrey Shuma - for distributing the balls to kids
Mark Hinton - for coordinating everything and generally living in a way that makes his son proud
Audrey Hinton - for being the best mom in the world!

My favorite pants

2006-08-30T13:09:00.000+03:00

I am sitting on the floor with the computer on a chair in front of me.

I am writing because I feel like expressing myself.

I am wearing a worn pair of 100% Italian wool dress pants. They are the finest pants (you Brits can laugh, that’s just how I think of them) I have ever owned and are the most comfortable. They represent my liberation. I used to wear them to the office and take extra precaution to not get them dirty because I didn’t want to take them to the dry cleaner again. Now I wear them to keep the mosquitoes from biting my legs and because they are the most comfortable pants I own (Wagner I know you would understand). I have less money but I can finally afford to be comfortable. I could go the beach tomorrow but I prefer to wake up to attend to the issues that constitute my job. If that sounds vague, it’s because I don’t have a boss.