March 5, 2011: Yemen Recap

Check out the video of random footage I loosely pieced together.  At random points throughout my experience I turned on my video camera.  In retrospect I wish I had done it a bit more.

Monday, February 28, 2011: Costa Rica Abbreviated

I’m looking at handwritten journals detailing my brief, but deeply impactful trip to Costa Rica.  I’ve lived amongst poverty in a lot of my travels, but working inside the home of a family of 9 in a “precario” just outside downtown San Jose was something else.  Never before have I felt the pressure to not mess up.  If we didn’t finish, they wouldn’t have a wall anymore.  Anyway, enough attempts at writing.  Check this mini-documentary I threw together.

Sunday, November 28 2010: Final Reflections from Haiti

Thanks for following urrbody.

All my pictures are viewable HERE

I’m well over half-way to my fundraising goal for the organization, and it would mean a lot if you are able to support All Hands.  Read through, see the work and programs they are executing, and see what your donation can do to directly alleviate disease in Leogane, Haiti…to help move a family out of an IDP camp and back onto their property…to build a school…to prevent the spread of cholera within the town…. ..Click HERE to help.  A HUGE Thank You to those who already donated.

Currently sitting in Toussaint L’ouverture International Airport after a disheartening, inspiring, eye-opening, personally gratifying, humbling, confusing, empowering, and overall incredible experience–albeit a very short one.  I’m feeling pretty bummed for having to leave, but “real life” beckons and I have a presentation due the day after I return.  “Real life” is a funny term…what I saw here couldn’t be more real.

I have about 5 hours to kill, excuse the soliloquy  before the sum-up of the past couple days…but getting my thoughts out incoherently helps:

The world is messed up.  Like really messed up.  I’m finding it hard to strike a balance between gut-wrenching empathy and hardened indifference because I’ve seen seemingly insurmountable challenges where I travel and it’s easy to despair and become hardened to it, but each challenge has it’s own tragic story that cuts right to the heart. Here in Haiti I’ve seen children crying from untreated parasites slowly destroying their insides.  Other children labor all day for enough money to prepare dinner for their family, some sold into legalized child-slavery.  The mountains have been stripped bare and villages hang to cliffsides a mudslide away from destruction.  In Yemen, I’ve heard stories from Ethiopian and Eritrean refugees who bore years of torture in prison for their political affiliation.  Somalis lost their entire families in the crossfire of anarchic conflict waged on the streets of Mogadishu.  Still others lost loved ones as they were smuggled like abused animals across the Red Sea.  In Egypt, I’ve heard stories of arbitrary arrests, evictions, and deportations because of where someone was from and the color of their skin.  In Morocco, women sat with their children castigated from society forced to beg for Dirhams, exposing themselves to harassment.  Here in DC I’ve spent Monday nights chatting with homeless veterans who fought bravely in Vietnam but who now must fight their nightmares and the scars of war alone in the winter cold (at Union station or worse…on a bench near the Navy Memorial commemorating their service).  I’ve seen homeless women with children, trying to determine whether or not they were going to risk staying in the shelters or brave another night on the streets.  I’ve heard the stories like that of my mentee in Southeast DC, who’s father walked out on him, another father figure deported on drug charges, and who was recently jumped at gun point on his way home from SAT class.  Back home in Washington State, I’ve felt sorrow for a far-too-shortlived life taken by an untreatable disease, and another who was taken to the brink only to fight his way back to health.  In New Orleans, I’ve felt heartache for families who saw their homes and communities swept away by the storm waters of Katrina.

I went into this particular experience reflecting more generally on the question of “why”.  Why I was born into such opportunity and others into poverty, danger, poor health, and every other imaginable barrier keeping them from reaching their full potential.  Clearly I’ll never have an answer.  But I have seen untold strength in individuals tirelessly fighting through those barriers and am continually inspired by that tenacity.

In bringing my stories up, I don’t ever mean to spread guilt and I NEVER intend to judge.  If I come off as preachy, let me know.  I’ve been blessed with opportunities to serve and travel, and thereby increase my awareness of what lies beyond my own life.  But seeking to understand the question of “why” entails an awareness of the world around me, the experiences of others, and the disparity of wealth in all its definitions that I hope to share here.  This should feed into just a high enough level of subconscious discomfort so as to make us constantly grateful for what we have, and appreciative of the opportunities that lie in front of all of us.

And hopefully…this discomfort turns into an inspiration to act to address these inequalities…in whatever capacity feels right.

one building of thousands

I consider myself a pretty optimistic kid, an idealist perhaps, but with an idealism grounded in realism.  It was just a week, and the impact I left on Haiti was pretty damn small.  So why do it?  Why serve when the world is so big?  Why try to find one solution, when there are millions of problems? Why spend days removing rubble from a property if I’m just going end the work day by walking past a group of Haitians building a new house on shoddy foundation with the same crap cinderblock walls “reinforced” with the twisted rebar pulled from our rubble site?  Why contribute to the local economy when their natural resources have been raped off bare mountainsides?  Why distribute cholera prevention kits, when medical supplies are being held up in customs until the right man is paid off with the right amount of bribe money?   There’s no reason a gallon of bleach should cost $6 in a country that is fighting an epidemic.  The fact that corruption is allowed to continue to rise prices artificially, creating inefficiencies and crippling economic growth…it is truly mind boggling.  How can a nation surmount 2o0 years of oppression from without, and externally support corruption from within?  I learned a lot about Haiti, and will continue to learn more.  From the massive amount reparations the small country of former slaves were forced to pay their former captors, to a history of isolation, dictatorial rule, trade imbalances, and intentionally weakened infrastructure development…there’s a lot of history to analyze before one can even begin to understand where Haiti is at now.   That aside…

USAID will build more permanent structures on cleared foundation

Sometimes you just have to roll with what you got and support what you can.  People need to get out of IDP camps, they need some sort of personal ownership, some privacy, some ability to escape the unsanitary and dangerous tent encampments and physical entrapment.  And if people need to do it, they’re going to do it the only way they can afford to…buying the same cheap concrete and re-using the same rebar.  My place is not to judge, it is to serve and provide that critical fist step of giving someone their home back.  USAID has been constructing more permanent tent structures on the slabs after we finish, but what’s to help our beneficiaries’ neighbors from building straight on grass?

The point is that I can’t.  There are indeed limits to what we can do, but that should never deter us from trying… because the bottom line is this:  you may not be able to change the world, but you can absolutely change someone’s world.

So I’d urge you to discover what inspires you, introspectively assess what your strengths are–what you can offer-give-contribute, discover the challenges out there in the world (realizing there are likely plenty of challenges in your own neighborhood), and make an impact by striking a balance between yourself and serving others in whatever capacity that allows you to wake up with purpose in the morning.

It doesn’t have to be a lot to make a big change.  The orphanage I visited will be getting one of our biosand filters.  That means that 30 or so children without parents are able to have safe drinking water for years at the one-time cost of maybe $40USD.  This means they won’t contract the bacteria and parasites that leave them with swollen bellies, that leave them malnourished, that leave them with belly buttons that extend beyond their stomachs by an inch.  This means they can concentrate on being kids and on learning.  This means the staff can focus on their overall development, and not just their health.  That is just one biosand filter at one site.  That’s the impact a handful of volunteers made after a few days of cleaning and sifting sand under the leadership of an outstanding guy at camp.  And this project is just one of dozens happening through All Hands. All Hands isn’t changing the world, they won’t dramatically alter the course of Haiti’s development, and their impact in the community of Leogane–while definitely felt–won’t fundamentally improve the condition of all the residents there.  But All Hands changed the world for this group of deserving orphans…and they’re not stopping there.

I learn through service, I ground myself in it because it is easy for me to be overwhelmed by what I am understanding to be an enormously complex and colorful world.  It’s a guiding light, a principle I can always be true to, and proactively hold myself accountable.  If I stray, and I have often–and will undoubtedly in the future–stray…I’ll know it because the path will be darker, and I’ll lose myself.  I have challenges, very large weaknesses, self-doubt, and self-rejection…but service is, and always be my foundation.  The relationships built in service, and those friends and family that have been supportive of me are my reinforcement.  No amount of shaking earth can knock that down.

returning from jacmel on a tap tap with some pretty cool people

I meet the best kinds of people when I serve and travel.  I really wish I had more than a week to connect with the other volunteers and the local community.  I felt at home, and I’m heartbroken to leave it so early.  My best hope is that I’ll run into some of them in future travels.  And I’ve offered up my couch to anyone who comes through DC. I’m incredibly inspired by the dedication and passion of the other volunteers…making things happen every day.  Aubrie and the orphanage, Quinn and his biosand filters, Jenny/Steph/Jess/Mark and the staff that make the whole thing happen behind the scenes….plenty of people I wish I could get to know more, but for now I’ll just have to take a bit of how they live with me.  A few good friends is all you need, sure…  But I look at myself as a mosaic…a reflection composed of all those that I’ve met (many through service) who left some sort of impression on me.  It gets a bit confusing, but certainly keeps things interesting.

Alright, enough of that.

Saturday November 27

local volunteers were pretty pysched about the flag-find

Forgot a story from Friday: In keeping with a friend-inspired tradition I was intent on buying a Haitian flag.  My search in Jacmel left me empty handed.  I walked around Leogane during lunch asking random people in about 5 words of Creole where I could buy one.  Everybody was pretty skeptical about my ability to find a flag, except for one gentleman: Quirdof.  He was pretty uncertain, but told me to return at 5:00.  At 4:45 I left base walked back to where I was told to meet him(through a group of rowdy adolescents rallying for one of the presidential candidates-Celastin).  Asked around with a couple words of Creole about Quirdof.  He came up empty handed and my heart sunk, but had me follow him to his car, from which he pulled a legit Haitian flag.  The craziest part?  He refused to accept money for it.  Just gave it to me and shook my hand.  Awesome.

not the same without the quarter million roosters simultaneously crowing

Saturday I woke up extra early to post up on the edge of the roof to watch the sun rise over the mountains and the Joint Logistics Base to take it all in.  The whole town was loud with the echoing of roosters.  I went to egg sandwich lady for another epic breakfast (she even through in a free orange cuz she enjoyed my lame attempt at creole).  Hopped on the Tap Tap  excited for a full day of rubbling.  I brought my ipod so I could plug in, forget troubles, and just sledge away under the hot sun.  Few things are as therapeutic.  Made some solid progress and breaked for water.

Dreda and Olga, a couple local kids decided to hang out with us for the day.  Olga was really interested in my hair, and Dreda loved listening to my music so I shared an earphone with him.  The kids were awesome. The next break Olga came with  pamplemousse–hybrid orange grapefruit– and also supplied us with a bag of nuts as a snack asking nothing in return.  A few other locals hopped on the site to help remove rebar and sledge concrete.  Really felt like a team effort.  Sun was getting really hot, just in time for the Tap Tap to come around the corner.  We collected the tools, loaded them up and headed back to base for noodles, rice and beans, and more bleach-flavored vegetables.

last day group shot

Back at the worksite it was even hotter.  Most the concrete was broken, so I spent most the time struggling with the heavy rebar cutter and digging out large pieces from the collapsed ceiling so the bobcat could take out the rest.  Finished the day major-injury free –which was an initial goal for the week– though I lost plenty of chunks of shin skin from flying rubble, my hands succumbed to “sledge paw”, and had plenty of blisties.  Finished the day with the popular Haitian equivalent of an otterpop and gathered the group and the local guy who joined in the fun for a picture with the Haitian flag. It was a solid week of work, by now the blisters on my hands have pretty much calloused over, my back feels a lot stronger, and my undershirts are stained orange and teal from a mix of bleach, sweat, and sunscreen.

nichole and la marche

to a justin beiber song of all things

A couple others and I headed into the market as the base was going on lockdown for the next day or two and they wanted to be sure of having vegetables.  The market was pretty chaotic compared to those I’ve visited in the middle east.  Covered in 5 ft high tarps, not really focused around pathways, just a mix of different sellers.  Definitely glad I passed through though.

The night was spent packing up, grabbing a beer at Joes and hanging with local and international volunteers.  Some of the locals were having dance-off with some pretty epic acrobatics– mostly to Justin Beiber. Capped off the night on the roof chilling under the stars for a couple hours with a solid group of people.  Leaving is really going to suck.

Sunday November 28

Woke up around 7, packed up the remainder of my stuff, and chilled out with new friends for the last couple hours.  The driver called and asked for us to leave an hour earlier as there was reports of heavy traffic due to the elections.  Fortunate that we were still allowed to go to the airport, despite rumors of potential conflict, we were OK with it.  Just shortened the amount of time we had to say goodbye.

Goodbyes always suck, but hopefully it’s a “see-you-later” for most everyone here.

Celestin everywhere, but still close race

Loaded in the SUV and cruised down the highway to Port au Prince.  Every so often we’d pass a crowd with a heavy police and UN troop presence…likely polling stations.  Everything seemed to be in order, most the shops had closed down for the day.  No real traffic to speak of.  No real demonstrations or rowdy crowds we saw.  Posted up in the airport now, watching election coverage on the TV of a bar and typing up this last entry.  Apparently there are some problems.  I think 12 of the 18 or so candidates want the election annulled citing fraud.  Many voters lost their identification cards and all personal information in the quake and were suprised to find they couldn’t vote.  Some were reportedly barred from voting.  There are allegations of people stealing ballot boxes, and stuffing others.  The politicians seemed to be largely aligned against the well-financed Celestine (son and law of the current president Preval).  His posters were ubiquitous throughout the country, and his paid supporters rallied all over.   Independent monitors, however, have cited little reason to believe there was significant enough fraud to alter the elections outcome (more than likely a run-off in January between top candidates) After a relatively short time, DJ and Guillermo both caught their flight to NYC.  Both of whom are from Washington of all places, DJ from Enumclaw.  Random.

Looking at a flight to Miami, a 2 hour layover before a flight to Nashville for a night layover, and another flight to DC.  Already feeling homesick for everyone I left, not looking forward to the cold and to the 3 papers I have in waiting (1 presentation on tuesday!)

WRAP UP

Well thanks for keeping up with my experiences in Haiti. I appreciate all the supportive messages.  It was, indeed, a thanksgiving I will never forget.

Support All Hands

I’d also strongly encourage you to PLEASE support All Hands’ efforts in Haiti.  I’m more than halfway to reaching my goal with a personal deadline set for December.  A huge thanks to those who’ve donated.  Just $10 goes a long way,..10 friends =$100 to cover the cost of a biosand filter to provide safe drinking water to a school, family, or orphanage.  Click HERE to Donate this holiday season.  See what you are supporting here.

Maybe we can’t change the world, but we sure can change the world for those who shouldn’t have to struggle against poverty and disease just to survive.  Change a world.

Until My Next Trip Around the World (School-building in Costa Rica methinks),
Collin

Friday November 26 2010: Thankful

Read on, and please consider giving.  A little bit from a lot of people will go a long way, and I’m over halfway towards my goal with just a few days left in November!

Over the past few days I’ve gotten to the point where this place feels like a home.  I’m surrounded by dozens of incredible people…people who quit their jobs and bought a 1-way ticket to volunteer here for months (usually until their checking account gets dangerously close to 0), people who made this organization their livelihood and came straight to Haiti from Indonesia and other projects All Hands operates across the world, others that used their annual vacation time from work to give the time they have.  I speak maybe 15 words of Creole now, but I feel pretty tight with our local Haitian volunteers regardless.  Just a lot of good feelings, it’s a great place to be.  The communal living… cooking for each other, cleaning for each other, working with each other, and now–with one bathroom out of commission–doin the business together…all provides opportunities to connect in the context of serving a verrry in-need community.  The culmination of all of this was our Thanksgiving dinner.  Volunteers spent all day in the kitchen preparing a MASSIVE FEAST for about 150+ international and Haitian volunteers….each local volunteer was allowed 2 guests as well.  It was great to have everyone together, and it goes down as the best Thanksgiving I’ve had.  From visiting our partner orphanage to cleaning a crap-ton of turkey day dishes, I’m counting my blessings and really appreciative of everything that I have… but more so for the opportunity we have everyday to connect with someone new, in the ultimate pursuit of figuring out who we are and what we’re ultimately here for.

The second issue is cholera.  Official numbers released on the 23rd put the number of cases at 60,000, with 1,400+ deaths.  Cases have been reported in all the 10 districts of Haiti.  All Hands is continuing to promote hygiene on base, bleach is in everything (including the salad), and our drinking water is a-ok.  UNICEF is looking to our site to store equipment for faster regional responses in implementing rehydration locations and critical care stations to keep the epidemic from spreading.  Experts now assess that the disease could affect 500,000+.  Cholera does not need to be fatal, it’s a matter of getting people hydrated with simple saline solution.  That’s the greatest tragedy of the deaths that have already occurred and those that will continue to occur.  Despite some media images, bodies are not piling up in the streets in Leogane.  There’s been a couple cases, but not the apocalyptic epidemic it’s been made out to be in some press.  I don’t mean to detract, however, from the grave seriousness of the situation.  All Hands has so far distributed 500+ cholera prevention kits, and continues to install dozens of bio-sand filters every week.  Our relatively cheap, yet highly effective filters have caught the attention of other NGOs as well.  This is a problem, but not a lost cause.  Support All Hands.

Now that you know I’m relatively safe and secure…feel free to read on about the past couple days.

Wednesday November 24

waka waka dance.

I signed up to go to the orphanage to get a different experience.  Orphanages operate a bit differently here.  Some children are parentless, but some are left because their parents can’t afford to care for them.  A sad situation, but far better in most cases than the restavak system where rural poor will sell their children to others believing they are giving them better opportunity in better-to-do homes when the result is actual child slavery.  This orphanage recently moved from a very bad location to a relatively good one…about 5 small rooms for around 30 children.  They have about 5 infants, a dozen toddlers, and some 4-5 year olds, and 9-10 year olds that are put into de facto parenting positions.  All Hands provides support in the form of volunteers taking the burden off of orphanage staff on a regular basis, training staff in various subjects (like recognizing trauma…a term largely foreign here), and assisting them in establishing sustainable practices (like implementing a webpage for external fundraising).

kids being kids at the orphanage

I walk in, not sure what to expect, to find naked babies and children everywhere.  We arrived just in time to help clean and clothe everyone.  Signs of health were very visible, I found it difficult to pull shirts over expanded bellies from a mix of malnutrition and parasites that will likely remain untreated for quite some time.  Not that the staff neglects the children, by any means, but they lack the resources and access to proper healthcare to resolve these issues.  It was really hard listening to a child wailing, not because he was throwing a fit, but because worms were giving him a horrendous stomach ache we were helpless to alleviate.  The kids were ultimately kids, though.  Loved playing helicopter, listening to stories, rolling a ball, making goofy faces.  yet this was juxtaposed with how the older children cared for the toddlers and infants.  Kids at heart, but forced to grow up fast.  And a lot of them just wanted to be held.

tony, a local volunteer doing work

After watching a waka waka dance we climbed back into the Tap Tap for a bouncy ride home.  Grabbed a plate, piled it high with rice, beans, a fried, refried, and fried-again piece of chicken before putting on my workboots and hopping onto another Tap Tap destined for a nearby rubbling site.  Got to work, starting to get pretty good at it.  Made solid progress breaking the weak concrete off the rebar.  A few locals were taking the rebar to re-use in what will likely be another cheap-budget but unstable building.  As the sun lowered we loaded up the Tap Tap and returned to base in time to grab some dinner.  More rice and beans, tomato, and leftover noodles.  still delicious.  after a bucket shower, I hung out a bit before crashing for the night.

Thursday November 25

jaqmel fisherman

homie hung out all morning

Happy thanksgiving.  Used the day off to head up and over the mountains to Jaqmel before returning in time for dinner.  730 wake up, oats and sugar for breakfast, and we loaded a tap tap that was to take us the 2 hour journey for about $10 each.  arrived in the town on a sleepy morning, not a lot going on.  Stopped at a litter filled pebble beach, realized this wasn’t quite what we were looking for, so rolled 20 minutes further down the road where we arrived at a beautiful beach.  We pretty much had it to ourselves except for a local fishermen untangling his net, a handful of local artists persistently selling their work, and a few kids determined to sell us seashells.  Beautiful weather, incredible fish brought out to us, and good company.

rally for prezidan

On the way out we got stuck up in a rally.  I used the  opportunity to ask rallyers waving the Haitian flag if I could purchase it, but was turned down.  Pretty wild campaigning though…basically a truck stacked high with booming speakers and a crowd of jubilant adolescents chanting and playing music down the street.  A UN truck was posted up nearby, full of Sri Lankan peacekeepers just in case things got a little out of hand.  Most demonstrations have been fine…but occasionally there’s been clashes when supporters for two different candidates end up in the same town at the same time.

sunset over haitian mountains from the back of a pickup truck

hill stripped bare by unsustainable agriculture practices and resource extraction

The drive up the mountain was both beautiful and incredibly alarming.  I had heard of the poor state of Haiti’s environment, and the extensive deforestation taking place, but it took seeing it to fully grasp the enormity of the problem.  it was also eye-opening to see the scope of destruction.  Collapsed houses littered the side of the freeway for the entire drive.  The earthquake was massive, and affected everybody.

Arrive in time for a quick bucket shower, then headed over to Joe’s where members of the community were arriving to join our volunteers for Thanksgiving.  It was incredible to see 10 turkeys, cranberry sauce, Haitian dishes, pie, and pounds upon pounds of stuffing laid out.  Got in line with 150 or so intl volunteers, local volunteers and their guests ate together and jammed out to some music.   Feeling a bit guilty for peacing out all day, I helped out with the dishes afterwards.

the line for thanksgiving

crapton of dishes

fooood

 

 

 

 

 

Friday November 26

a lesson in sharing, even when you have nothing to give

Returned to the orphanage on Friday.  a lot of the same, but noticed something great today.  I spent a lot of time with a particularly attached toddler.  As I was helping him eat his lunch of oats, I noticed this 2, maybe 3, year-old would take a spoonful, then give out a spoonful to another child.  Without complaint or supervision, his weak little arm would extend out to other kids’ plates and dump a few outs.  He licked his own plate clean…clearly he was hungry…but seeing this was something profound and an image that will stick with me. Good news, All Hands is installing a biosand filter for the orphanage next week so they’ll have a constant supply of clean water.  The second half of the day was back at the rubble site for more action.  Tired hands, blistered fingers, hot afternoon, but another rewarding day at work.  Got a quick bucket shower, relaxed with a few friends at joe’s before crashing.

Please support All Hands and their efforts to give property back to homeowners to help move people out of IDP camps, support the orphanage, build local schools, prevent cholera, and provide safe drinking water to the community.  Click HERE to give even just $10.

Next update will likely come after I return home should my trip to the airport be a successful one.



November 23, 2010: 1 Hour and 35 Minutes

Typing on a community computer, excuse typos and the poor organization and the generally sucky writing…kind of stream of consciousness as I have a line up behind me…just roll with it.

Also PLEASE CONSIDER DONATING to relief efforts and disease prevention.  After seeing the impact that this organization has made in a few days, I’m motivated to reach my goal.  We have a lot to be thankful for, consider giving a bit.
Saturday, November 20

 “This flight should take just around 1 hour and 35 minutes”.  The flight time, mentioned amongst the usual drone of flight information and precautions didn’t settle in straight away as I attempted to bury my face into the side of my seat to fall back asleep after a 5am wakeup.  Gotta take a moment to give Sasha props for picking me up from the airport, letting me crash on her couch during my overnight layover, and waking up early to drive me back to the airport.  She’s doing incredible work through Teach for America as a 7th grade science teacher, and apparently her kids are kicking ass on tests relative to the rest of the school.  It was great catching up with someone who was so … there for me when I needed it throughout the past few years.

Landing Over Port Au Prince, IDP camps clearly visible

1 hour and 35 minutes later, I realized how unintentionally unsettling those words would be.  We took off from Miami, itself a city of huge wealth disparity largely geographically separated by I-95.  But flying over Port au Prince, I soon realized this was to be a whole new level of poverty I have seen little of.  In my travels within Yemen and Ethiopia I saw what a dollar a day looks like…. but it was never as in-your-face as large IDP camps visible from the plane.  200 feet out of the airport, crowded and ripped tarped tents crept onto the street. Intersections held tends, the islands between streets were just a row of tents. My experience in Haiti, I realized, was to be a bit different.
Stepping off the plane, we walked down a hallway of cracked drywall and cement.  We loaded onto a bus for a short trip to a makeshift hanger to collect our bags. Headed out and found my driver amongst dozens of others.  Waited a bit for another volunteer before loading in his little car and weaving through the congested streets of Port au Prince.  Caught a quick look at the decrepit presidential palace as we proceeded outside of the city.   A lot of street vendors, a lot of movement going on in between destroyed buildings barely hanging on to their foundations.

election posters everywhere

Hit highway and mobbed along the coast towards Leogane, a small town about 2 hours south of PAP.  I’ll be able to tell you more about the city as I learn more.  Initial impressions coming into the town, bustling, a lot of motorbikes, vendors selling various new, used, re-used products along the mixed dirt or paved roads.  Goats, dogs, pigs running around and rummaging through sometimes burning piles of trash.  Ditches filled with oily water.  Smiling children walking home from school in matching uniforms and backpacks, smaller children riding the handlebars of their father’s motorbike…passed a stadium covered in tents shoved tightly together.  It brought to life what I heard a group of panelists speak on, the dangers of IDP camps.  The tight alleyways, unhygienic nature of having so many people living so tightly together….its problematic and its been 10 months. …I also noticed election posters hanging everywhere.  Depending on where you get your information, there’s 30 to 38 candidates this year, in what is feared to be a contentious election

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Arrived at All Hands Volunteers base camp.  Joe, a local successful entrepreneur owned quite a bit of land to include what was to be night club until the earthquake so badly damage the partial construction that he couldn’t continue.  All Hands came and leased the multiple acres and the building soon after the storm.  Pics forthcoming, but its essentially a hollowed out two story building.  A giant concrete courtyard open air, a covered bunk area for all volunteers, tents of long-term volunteers strewn about stages on both sides and across the roof,  a makeshift kitchen, and an outdoor dining area.

first night at joes, couples dancing and enjoying life

Grabbed my backpack and walked through a large box of bleach water before entering the stone structure—a recent move to prevent the introduction of cholera into the camp.  Settled a bit and met up with Tim Gowa for dinner.  Got his impressions and learned of his plans to head home to surprise his family for thanksgiving.  Bummed to lose him on Wednesday, but stoked to see a familiar face.  Got a quick tour by Jenny, a long term volunteer serving as base manager for the day.  A few ground rules, not that there are many.  In the camp by 10pm SHARP, use the buckets to flush your shit, and no alcohol on base (despite being neighbors with Joe’s outdoor bar).  After the tour, took a couple hour nap while everyone was away after setting up my mosquito net.   Every night there is a post-dinner meeting at 5:30 where project leaders go over the progress their project (of 13 or so simultaneous projects), go over camp-wide issues, introduce new members, and say goodbye to outgoing volunteers.  After the meeting you sign up for the project you want to get involved with.  I signed up to remove rubble with Tim, and it ended up being a solid choice.   Hit joes with a lot of volunteers to relax before starting my week.

Sunday November 21

Crew loading the Tap Tap

Usually Sunday is a day off, but since Thanksgiving was coming up, they org powered through.  The sleeping pad I borrowed from TRAILS at GW wasn’t quite thick enough to mask the hard 2x4s I was sleeping on.  But essentially mosquito-bite free I was blessing the net I brought as I woke up to the early crowing of neighboring roosters.  Got up surprisingly early, grabbed some oats, mixed in strawberry jam for flavor, and added some cold water for a breakfast of champions.  Met up with the Rubble Crew, loaded up tools and wheelbarrows into one of the trucks affectionately called “tap taps” so-named for the method of communicating with the driver that you want to start or stop.  About 13 of us climbed in the bed of the truck and sat on the high railing as we made our way through the rough streets of Leogane towards our site.

sledging all day everyday

the site before

Arrived a few minutes later.  The site was pretty massive.  Dimmy, the homeowner, was in the process of constructing a compound with a few rooms when the earthquake hit.  Our job was to clear the concrete slab of rubble so he could begin to rebuild.  A lot of rubble sites objective is to simply clear the slab and give it back to the homeowner, so they can move out of crowded and dangerous situations of the IDP camp and get them back on their own property, even if that is another tent.  Our team leader Kate, is a hell of a woman.  Always optimistic and energetic, shouting encouragement and direction in an enthusiastic british accent, and nearly always laughing.  After a brief tutorial, I was off and sledging.
After about 20 minutes into it, I realized this was going to be hard work.  About 2 hours into it, my hands were starting to succumb to ‘sledge paw’, where the muscles autonomously  ball up.  Despite some solid work gloves, my hands started to get a couple blisters that I proactively duct taped.  Stopped for lunch, trucked everything back to camp for some rice and beans and a nap on the concrete during the hottest part of the day, before grabbing our gear and rolling back out to the site.

local homie checking out the action

Our work caught the attention of the locals who posted up along the concrete walls to watch us do our thing.  I was starting to feel a solid rhythm and we were making steady progress when the tap tap returned to pick us up.  Grabbed some dinner, solid egg sandwich meal thing.  Something was up with the well or the pump, so we had to walk down the road to grab some from the local well and bucket it back for showers.  Half a bucket with a bowl, pour some on, lather up, rinse off.  Couldn’t really stay up much later than that.
Monday November 22nd

doing work. hot sun.

Woke up a bit earlier.  Headed down the street to for some famous egg-lady egg sandwiches.  She brought me back into her home, had me sit down while she prepared a pretty awesome meal for the next 20 minutes.  Watched a man try to forcibly mate a chicken and a rooster…but the chicken wasn’t having it.  Egg-lady’s neighbor was scrubbing her child in an early morning shower, and the kid wasn’t really having it either.  Ate the 25 cent sandwich on my walk back to camp and loaded up for another day.  Hands a bit weaker today, but got back in a steady rhythm.  Breaking concrete off of rebar, cutting rebar, removing rebar, breaking more concrete with sledgehammer, removing more rebar, then watching the local volunteers OWN the Backo and push the rubble off the foundation.  Struck up a conversation with a friendly local guy, Jesse James.  Said he was 23, and lost his parents when he was 5.  He’d like to be a doctor or something, would love to go to New York…but doesn’t see it happening.  All he had, he said, was Jesus to believe in.  Not a lot of opportunity out there for him.  Kind of disheartening conversation, but enlightening fersure.  Had he been born an hour and 35 minutes to the north west, he would have the opportunity to do what he wanted.
Finished with a bit more left to do, but found a good stopping point.  Shorts are getting stiffer with a mix of rubble-dust infused with sweat.  Two undershirts went from a bright white to a yellow brown.   But progress is coming.  Dinner was solid, went to joe’s just for a juice before passing out again.
Tuesday  November 23

Tim and me on the finished project...gowa's a friend from gw

Site complete!  Woke up early for another egg sandwich.  Maybe even better than yesterday’s.  Rolled out on the tap tap…the cool morning air felt awesome.  Banged away throughout the morning, did a bit of reading during lunch, then powered through the afternoon.  Spent a solid hour removing a rather stubborn column of entwined rebar so the Backo would be more free to clear the slab, and got it done just in time.  The site is pretty much complete, and ready to go back to the homeowner.  The crew stopped at a local bar (…a couple benches and a refrigerator) for some Prestige beers before going to dinner.  Haven’t felt this good after a day in a long long time.  A mix of endorphins from physical labor, the ability to give someone back their improved property, alcohol from a couple beers, the shared experience with a dozen awesome people….it all added together for a really solid feel-good afternoon.
The report-out tonight was awesome too.  Nearly 500 cholera prevention kits are ready for distribution tomorrow.  Cholera is still relatively low in the area, but the disease is expected to spread and worst-case predictions peg maximum exposure at 250,000 over the next couple years.  I recognize 500 is a small percentage, but that number is the result of just a few days effort, in one community.  Our site was cleared, another is closing in on completion, and we’re starting a new site tomorrow.  A school was opened a couple e days ago.  And bio-sand filters are ready for distribution.  Writing this I’m listening to the eclectic mix of music pouring into from Joe’s bar.  Beiber fever has struck the island.
This organization is pretty awesome.  It maximizes their volunteers’ contributions, is effective in it’s delivery and projects, and really worth supporting.
To make an immediate and direct impact on earthquake relief and disease prevention in Leogane, Haiti…PLEASE make a small donation by clicking HERE.  All proceeds go to the organization and not to my trip!

Friday, November 19 2010: Packing Up, Haiti Bound.

It was over 5 years ago.  I sat with my forehead pressed tightly to the window of our coach bus as we continued through the desolate remains of St Bernards Parish just outside of New Oleans.  Katrina’s storm waters reached their highest heights in this area, completely destroying lives, livelihoods, and legacies for thousands of families.

We stepped off the bus into what seemed like a post-apocalyptic wasteland.  A dull wind carried the distant noises of the industrial drumming of machinery at oil refineries surrounding the area.  The air was thickened with a taste of smoke, and there wasn’t a single bird chirping.

In my first trip to New Orleans just 7 months after the storm I saw complete and utter destruction.  I saw grown men and women cry as they sifted through their personal belongings…wedding dresses, baby albums, items passed down from their grandparents and their grandparents’ grandparents.  I saw grown men and women cry as they came to terms with the fact that—beyond their house—their home, neighbors, community, extended family and friends, were never going to be the same.  The comforting familiarity in these parts had been washed away with the storm waters.

Resiliance

But I also saw unparalleled strength.  I remember vividly the image of an older woman standing with us in a group photo.  We had spent the past day completely gutting and removing debris (and I still feel uncomfortable describing someone’s wealth of possessions “debris”) into a massive pile in her front yard.  It was to be picked up sometime in the future, when and if trash services resumed.  What I remember was that—despite climbing to join us on the mound of her destroyed and sullied possessions—she had a smile of grit and determination to not just take what happened to her.  She was going to smile, to laugh, and to rebuild her home and her community.  I learned that one’s spirit could not be swept away by the storm waters.  l saw humility, I saw strength, I saw resilience.

I’m leaving for the airport in a couple hours.  As much as my experiences of New Orleans paint my imagined picture of Haiti, I am actively attempting to separate the two.  I’m doing my best to leave behind my assumptions, to come ready to learn, and ready to serve in whatever capacity that will do the most good for the most people.

I’m thankful for the opportunity to serve, and humbly aware of the limits I have to make significant change.  I’ll do my best to learn, and to share what I learn with you.  It’s been 11 months since the tragic earthquakes that rocked Haiti from the countryside to the overcrowded and haphazardly constructed urban center of Port-au-Prince.  It’s something CNN will do a 1 year reunion on in January, but other than when under intense media focus, it is something that escapes our daily concerns.

I’ve seen and heard lot.  From post-disaster reconstruction, to extreme poverty, to outrageous abuses of human rights, to the tragic aftermath of conflict and war.  If I or anyone spent everyday remembering and attempting to process the lessons we take from our life experiences, we wouldn’t have time to do anything.  What I hope to provide myself and you through written reflection is by NO MEANS a guilt trip.

I hope to fuel a question of “why?”.  Why is it that I was born into opportunity and others are born in Niger, Mali, or Liberia with a 1/10 chance of not making it past 3 years old?  Why is it that my mother is a doctor, and others are born to 15 year old prostitutes in Nepal?  Why was I born into a home of solid timber and sound construction and hundreds of thousands in Haiti were born into homes of shoddy sand-filled concrete and un-ribbed rebar…two major causes for what led to such an astronomical level of deaths?

The question of “why” shouldn’t fill anyone with guilt.

But the question of “why” entails an awareness of the world around you, the experiences of others, and the disparity of wealth in all its definitions.  This should feed into just a high enough level of subconscious discomfort so as to make us constantly grateful for what we have, and appreciative of the opportunities that lie in front of all of us.

I hope to remind myself of everything I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving in what will likely be the most intense way.  I’ve had an incredible life thus far, and I’m just getting started.  But it’s time for a gut-check.

I leave in a few hours.  I have a overnight layover in Miami, and my girl SASHA has generously afforded her couch for me.  Can’t wait to hear all the great things she’s done with Teach for America in Miami-Dade.  I took my first antimalarial with no side effects.  I land in Port-au-Prince at 9:35am.  I’m told it’s quite the experience.

I’ve paid my own way, but if you feel like giving, please do so.  I’ve set a goal of $500 by December.  All proceeds go directly to the project in Leogane, Haiti.

TO GIVE CLICK HERE

Wednesday, August 11: Ethiopia and the Kindness of Strangers

the trip was defined by outrageous hospitality from strangers, much from Aliybay and his incredible family (some pictured)

Saturday, August 7: Ethiopia and the Kindness of Strangers:
Not too many internet opportunities so my entire experience is lumped into one post.  Day by day recounting of my trip is below.  I began the trip with some hesitancy.  I missed my friends in Yemen, missed my friends back home, I was tired, and Ethiopia was entirely new.  I was upset at the lack of time I had to properly explore the country.  Six days would not even begin to do this massive and diverse place justice.   New places, new faces, a language I didn’t speak a word of…boarding the plane to Addis at 5am, it seemed more as something to get out of the way before returning to the comfort of home, rather than an experience in itself.  But it was to be quite an experience.

From my pickup at the Airport by Selam’s sister Eman, to being treated to a night out by Selam’s brother Seifu, to staying in her other brother’s house, to be driven around and taken care of by her other brother Biniyam, to staying with a family (they had hosted a friend while she taught there a year ago) for two nights in a mountain village…I was treated to the incredible hospitality and warmth of relative strangers.  And after just 1 week, I feel like I have a home in Ethiopia as well.

The country is spectacularly beautiful.  The people we visited were welcoming, and incredibly curious.  But many too, were in very desperate situations.  I saw a lot of poverty, and was often asked for money…most of the time I could not give much out.  If I smiled and said hello, I was often asked (many times over) to take pictures.  So I took a lot, around 500.  Everywhere we went, we heard “firanjo!” (foreigner) in an excited, wild curiosity.  Pretty much could not have gone better, and I got a lot of people to thank.

If you need a driver, let me know.  Abi was the man, cheap price, super flexible.

Saturday, July 31

Was picked up by ayman, trying to keep awake at the airport (3-5am)…i knew sleep held the promise of sleeping through my flight.   Small prop plane brought me the 2 hours to Addis.  Met Selam’s sister, Eman, at the airport.  She picked me up, took me to her brother’s house where we had some fatira and honey (kind of like a crispy friend pancake) before heading to her flower shop, one of the family businesses.  Hung out for a bit drinking coffee before running errands to the markato (one of the largest open air markets in Africa) to grab supplies for the store.  The place was bustling and jampacked.  After that headed to Selam’s parents house.  promplty crashed in her parents room, waking up to thunderstorms a few hours later.  its the rainy season…good time to visit.

the factory

platinum club, a friendly welcome

Hung out with Selam’s little nieces while waiting on lunch.  they were VERY interest in my camera, and then my noodle lunch.  I gave one my camera while the other dug into to my top ramen lunch with her little bear hands.  Met up with Biniyam, Selam’s brother, and he took me to visit another of the family businesses.  He was looking to become GM of a leather factory and it was pretty cool to see the it all in operation.  Grabbed some burgers, then headed with Biniyam and her other brother Seifu to a hookah bar.  Really cool spot.  After that we headed to Platinum club.  Seifu asked what I’d have for a drink, thinking 1 or 2 wouldn’t hurt I said gin&tonic.  Well, he got a 5th for the 4 of us, and 7 shots or so later I was feeling pretty good.  A few hours later, headed to the airport to grab sophie, joining me from Jordan.

Sunday, August 1:

addis from up high.

church in addis

Sophie pledged to break down the door to wake me up at 10.  Well about 1pm, having been up for awhile, decided i could wake HER up.   Had some Fateer breakfast and coffee before bouncin out.  withdrew cash, headed to the top of the building holding his company’s HQ to catch Addis from 9 stories up.  pretty cool looks.  grabbed some more burgers with Sophie (hey, its been awhile since I’ve had beef alright), checked out the Madanyan: a beautiful church near the Bole district.  Checked an internet cafe and saw a message from Alison Thompson.  she had been in ethiopia prior and gave me the name of a contact.  I wrote it down thinking I might call later.  Grabbed dinner at Yod Abysinian Cultural Restaurant featuring dancing and music from various regions of Ethiopia.  And naturally they had to pull the whiteboy on stage to make an idiot of himself in from of 100 strangers.  My hips lie.

Monday, August 2:

freaky birds. tall as sophie.

hungry hungry hippos

made it back alive

Abi, our awesome driver, met us bright and early at 6:30.  we rolled down to Lake Ziway a few hours out of the old city.  paid a few birr to have “access” to the pennisula where 30 or so fishermen were cutting the days catch on the muddy banks, leaving bad fish for these giant jurassic park bird things.  our mission: find wild hippos.  for JUST 400 birr  (like 30-40 bucks) one of the fishermen would take us out on his boat to the middle of the lake.  CLEARLY the foreigner price.  they were stubborn bargainers too, were NOT budging for awhile.  not knowing the language sucked. really bad.  a couple walk aways and acts of pretending we didn’t actually travel 3 hours for a boat ride later we finally got the price down to 150 birr, which between the two of us was not that bad….though we knew we were still getting pillaged.  20 minutes later, the 18 year-old fisherman was making solid headway against the wind.  a bit of rowing later and we were in hippo territory.  hippos kill more humans than any other animal in africa, so I was at a bit of unease.  especially since there were about 6 of them with a stones throw…and when they got a little loud or started moving towards the boat, the fisherman rapidly got up and threw the only defense we had..one stone.  after checking them out for awhile we headed towards shore, stopping a couple times to bail out water that was leaking into the dinky craft.  awesome experience.  do it.  beautiful lakes in ethiopia.

rift valley village

Stopped for lunch in the Oramo regional capital…which I forgot the name…and my mini notepad with all my thoughts and names of people (like the fisherman) got lost in transit.  decided to call Alibay, Ally’s contact.  he said stopping by for coffee or something would be fine.  encouraged, we pressed on and descended into the rift valley.  more spectacular views.  the rift valley is home to a lot of wild life, and traditionally “national geographicy” small clusters of villages and thatched roofed mud huts.  Stopped at one to check out the scene.  took some awkwardly touristy photos, (but returned with them printed out to hang in their homes later so as not to be toooo horribly touristy).  continued on up the mountains again, stopping for views of terrace farming.  This place is SOO green.  caught the sunset which was pretty epic.  villagers lined the road walking their goods and livestock back from the weekly market.  many wanted

setting sun

pictures….and wanting to capture mountain life in Yemen I obliged.  We arrived in Alibay’s village, asking around for his home…pretty much EVERYONE knew him.  finally arrived, and opened the door in to something of a insular compound, with small rooms around a courtyard, home to his many family members.  treated to dinner and asked to spend the night.  not wanting to continue on dark mountain roads at night, we were grateful for the generous and unexpected offer.

Tuesday, August 3:

kids were pretty curious, and loved the camera

“the day belongs to the man, the night belongs to the animals”…words from Alibay on why we were to stay the night in Chelanko with him.  it was incredible and unexpected hospitality.  his family was beautiful and all respected him.  the younger kids took us on a tour of the village, checking out Ally Thompson and Tim Savoy’s school (teacher Allison and teacher Tim as they ALL remember them).  By the end of our 30 minute

gaway church

walk, we must have had at least 80% of the local kids following us, and jumping into pictures.  after a bit, we hopped in the van to roll on to Harar.  stopped off at Gaway Church, a major pilgrimage site for Ethiopian christians.  pretty unique and colorful place.  continued on towards Harar, which was only about an hour or two away.  arrived and decided on Woodros Hotel, nothing fancy…80 birr a night (about 7$ for a single).  not much water, but close to the city and easy 0256660217 if you wanna check it out should you be there.  Girma works there and offered his guide services for ONLY $40.  I politely told him no thank you, we’d manage…but he ended up tagging along anyway as a friend.  he

I have a tendancy to partake in risky behavior with large dangerous mammals

proved pretty helpful and was really knowledgeable about the city.  we wandered streets and markets.  really cool spot, and I guess ranks up there with Dar es Salam as being a go-to muslim spot on the african continent.  we ended up giving a bit of a tip at the end as a thank you, but he didn’t ask for one.  Later that night, we picked up Alibay’s wife (works in harar) and headed to the Hyena man.  basically, for $4, you can have about 5-10 minutes putting hunks of raw meat on the end of a short stick, holding it in your mouth, and letting hyenas eat it.  WILD.  hyenas kill, like…a lot of things.

Wednesday, August 4:

Dire Dawa

woke up relatively early in Harar.  Grabbed sophie and we wandered to get some of the pictures I had taken along the way and in Chelenko developed.  my intention was to give the pictures to those in the villages I had photographed as a thank you.  though many had seen a camera before, i doubt many had pictures of themselves or with family.  grabbed a cheeeeaap but delicious breakfast near the “hotel” and gate to the old city before moving on down the mountains to

dire dawa

Dire Dawa.  Girma had joined us and toured us through the new and old city.  the new city was very different then others, a large urban tree canopy covered wide french-inspired boulevards.  large colorfully painted plaster fences lined the streets.  the old city was much more like the middle east, desert style tents and stands sold various foods and goods.  everyone seemed pretty friendly and asked for pictures.  sophie made a nice friend with a woman who took an immediate liking to her.  HOT place though.  Met up with more of Alibays family living there and we were treated to desserts and oranges.  didn’t stay too long as we had to get back before the sunset and driving slowed down.  The view along the road was beautiful heading back though.  handed out the photos along with soccer balls we had purchased.  seemed to be very well received.  Alibay had us visit a Qat factory, where we were swarmed for pictures.  They export to Somalia, Yemen, and oddly enough, the UK.  On the ground was this GIANT mound of Qat.. I could just imagine my Yemen ifriends going crazy at the sight of it.  joined the family for dinner on the floor of their living room.  they made me choke down this barley grain drink with Aslam…apparently ethiopian runners drink it for strength.  not delicious but not awful.  like blended bran cereal.  had some entertainment from Abrahim, who danced a song about marrying Sophie (he is a mentally ill man from the village Allibay took in).

Thursday, August 5:

running ethiopia (another day)

woke up at 5:30 to join Aslam and his friend Abdo for a run outside of the village.  dawn was just about to break, and the sky started to illuminate the valley as we climbed up the hillside.  took a right of the road and through cornfields, and worn down grasses.  beautiful spot to run.  returned after a short 30 minutes to eat a quick breakfast, choke down more barley grain drink, and change before heading out.  Alibay would be joining us in our huge but empty van to Addis for a heart check up.  after all the hospitality, a free ride to the city was the least we could do.  So he and a couple members of his family (?rosemaya? and Aslam) joined us.  As we loaded up and pulled away, a swarm of children waived goodbye and ran alongside the van.  Along the way we occasionally stopped for Alibay’s impulse buys.  Hot corn on the cob from a couple girls at one spot for all of us, a bit later they got some fruit to share, and MY FAVORITE…

my co-passenger

about 2 hours out of the mountains we’re bombing along the rift valley through the small hut-villages right…small groups of people are walking their livestock alongside the road and Alibay has the driver stop.  A few minutes of negotiating later, Alibay returns with a goat that he puts in the backseat with me.  For 5 hours, shared the backseat with a goat.  baaaa-d ass.  Also stopped for lunch at a dank restaurant   in Awash.  Had some excellent Taps (meat stuff), then continued along back to Addis.  arrived, paid Abi the driver, checked flight and egypt situation online, packed, ate a little, and made it to the airport with about 2 hours til boarding.  I later learned the goat was slaughtered, and Sophie (a recently renounced vegetarian) was force fed its testicles.  bummer I missed out, eh?

I did Cut-sies for the first time in like 15 years. Little did I know I would be stuck in the check baggage line for literally an hour and a half.  then I got stuck in the immigration line for about 45 minutes.  looking like my flight was gonna be a miss, but not wanting to be the duesch that cuts about 50 people I contemplated my next move.  A pakistani man who pulled the “I’m going to look like I’m looking for someone in line and walk in front of everyone” move had stopped in front of me when one of those self-proclaimed line-polices shook his head and showed where the end of the line is…you know those dudes you think are kind of tools and you would never be, but you’re secretly glad they spoke up so you wouldn’t have to…annnyway, the guy has 5 minutes to go so he ducks the ropes and goes to the crew immigration check.  after fidgeting nervously for about 5, but realizing a missed flight to cairo (and ultimately home) was NOT worth it, I ducked the ropes and bypassed a solid group of people.  felt some staring at my back, so I headed forward and never looked back.  made it to the flight with not much to spare.  moral of the story: avoid ethiopian air, or arrive 4 hours early.

downtown munich

downtown munich

Friday-Saturday, August 6-7:
Spent the day catching up with friends.  Stopped by Eslam’s shop…bought a sheesha and some coffee.  Hung out with the father for a bit, then headed to meet my other friends for dinner.  wanted to treat them to some nice food at Sequoia, a pretentiously posh spot on the island of Zamalek on the Nile.  turns out, even though the place was 70% empty, I needed a reservation…no exceptions once. so. ever..  EVEEEN if this was my last night, EVEEN if I would slip him some money.  Literally felt like that episode of Sienfeld at the restaurant where better looking white couples would walk right past.  the host was the dueschiest piece of work I have met in awhile.  “sorry there’s nothing I can do, management rules”….”well can I see your manager”…”I am the manager”….”welcome to Egypt, maybe you can make a reservation for when you return next year”..all with this awful power-ridden smile.  let emotions get the better with me and with as much sarcasm as he showed me I said marhaba fil Masr ya cusomik and walked away with my friends.  ah well, maybe next time.  said goodbye to the dudes, then headed home to crash.

sequoia...a restaurant for assholes

Woke up covered in bug bites (the price for a $5 a night hotel), grabbed some Kosheri, packed, showered, showered again (hot as hell), grabbed a taxi and negotiated 45 pounds (cheapest trip yet).  spent about 40 min in traffic in the deathly hot highway, but left with almost 4 hours until the flight so for the first time I wasn’t running late!  stopped at security and asked why I had 5 giant knives (my jambiyas) but they got the souvenir time after a bit of explanation.  Landed in Munich a bit later, left the airport, checked bags in a locked room, hopped on the train and wandered aimlessly downtown for a few hours around sunset.  Beautiful city, a lot going on, and a great street music scene.  some of the coolest performances I’ve seen (a lot of strings).  posted up outside of a big band jazz concert for awhile.  I’d LOVE to get back here someday when I had more than a few hours, a few more dollars, annnnnd a few friends.

Sunday, August 8:  Munich-Frankfurt-DC

found the sweeeetest spot to catch some sleep in the airport.

Found the most epic napping spot for a layover and woke up at 530am refreshed.  Had to explain what my Arabic coffee grounds were at security, but made it on to the domestic Germany flight 12+ hours after arriving.  6 hours in frankfurt, then 8+ hours of traveling to Dulles.  That makes for over 30 hours of traveling… but definitely excited to get back and see friends, do laundry, and sleep in a bed.  won’t be for long.  headed to Maryland for our PAF retreat ziplining through trees, staying on a farm, kayaking, and hanging out a the beach.  And Colombia in a week.  rough life. I know.