Return to Africa

1. Never say never
Eight months ago I made my way through thirteen (or maybe more) passport checks at the Accra airport before boarding my flight back toward the United States. As I passed through one of the checks one of the guards recognized that I had a visa for multiple visits and asked if I would be returning. I chuckled a bit and said “no, never.” This was the same day that I was mugged and I was feeling quite down on Africa and Ghana. I thought to myself there is no way that I would ever return.

Eight months later, here I am sitting in an Accra hotel room. The lesson, of course, is to never say never. I find myself back in Ghana this time to do research for my management thesis project. For the last several months I have been working with a group of talented women to revise the operations curriculum for the Management Development Institute (MDI) that I worked in here in Africa last summer. We have developed a practical teaching case to replace the theoretical material that was taught previously. The case is based on HIV/AIDS clinical processes related to pregnant women. The transmission rate of HIV from mothers to children in Africa is currently around 30% whereas in the U.S. and other developed countries it is less than 1%. It is our hope that our teaching case will help to improve the clinical operations in at least some of the clinics in Africa and contribute to reducing the transmission rate. So if you were wondering, yes, I am saving the world.

2. Luggage does not sprint
Because United Airlines is absolutely fabulous we were delayed in Washington DC because someone packed a (yes, singular) bag in a cargo bay that they were not supposed to. Apparently moving said bag took over an hour. This delay resulted in a late arrival to Frankfurt and gave us only 20 minutes to catch our connection to Accra. We sprinted through the (not so tiny) Frankfurt airport and made the flight. We were quite proud of ourselves until we arrived in Accra and found that our luggage had not managed to make the same quick transition that we did. Losing luggage is certainly nothing new to me but losing luggage in a foreign country is. Stopping by the local shopping mall to pick up some clothes is not exactly an option here. My mom suggested I pick up a traditional African gown to wear until my luggage arrived – I decided not to take her advice.

3. Welcome back to the Club
We arrived at the hotel safely and were quite excited to learn that they had three restaurants to choose from. After 24 hours of travel I was not feeling adventurous so we went for Chinese. The food was surprisingly delicious but also one of the spiciest meals I have ever had. The noodle dish I ordered had me in tears and I consumed three Clubs (local beer), not because I wanted to get drunk, but because I wanted to finish my dinner. Let the tradition of beer in Africa continue.

4. Make no mistake, TIA means This is Africa
While in Argentina I rebranded TIA as “This is Argentina” but one day in Ghana reminded me that the A in TIA is undeniably Africa. Our first TIA moment came tonight when we went to pickup our luggage from the airport. On the ride to the airport we were explaining to our driver what had happened and that we had been wearing the same clothes for two days. He chuckled and responded “we are quite used to that here, you should fit right in.” It put my “drama” in perspective for a moment, but just for a moment.

Upon arriving to the baggage office were elated that our luggage actually showed up but were deflated when they would not give my colleague her luggage because she had forgotten the form they had given her when we lost our bags. They made us come all the way back to the hotel to get the form and then return for the luggage. I am certain they had a copy of the form on file and probably had the capability to look up the information on the computer but they refused. The whole ordeal took us over two hours. Despite the delay though, we did finally get our luggage and I am now sitting in clean clothes for the first time in 48 hours.

I'm too sexy for BA, too sexy for BA

Apparently this white girl is quite popular with the Argentine male population. I have slowly adjusted to the occasional whistles and cat-calls on the street, but sometimes it is downright confusing, as they seem to make advances when I look my worst or at the most unexpected of times…

1. Disheveled grocery shopper = dead sexy.

The setup… on the way home from class one afternoon we stopped at the Coto to pick up some groceries. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and threw myself together before class (hair up, no shower, no make-up). I was wearing jeans, a white v-neck t-shirt (yes, the kind you buy by the pack at Wal-Mart) and tennis shoes.

The Coto has two levels of amazingness. Shoppers move between the levels on giant conveyer belts. I was on the downward conveyer when I felt eyes on me. A man on the upward conveyer was gawking at me with that propositioning “lets get it on” type of stare. I tried to ignore it but I felt his eyes follow me all the way to the bottom. As I stepped off the belt I glanced back and saw him standing on the second floor, still staring. Without taking his eyes off of me he began to move toward the downward belt and I decided that it was time to leave, and quickly. Creepy.

2. Go to the grocery store sweaty and you might get some digits.

Later (that same day) I realized I needed a few more things to make dinner and headed to our local Disco grocery store. I had just finished a run and was still sweaty, in my running shorts and a long sleeve thermal. I was picking out a wine to have with dinner when a man came up behind me, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “you are very strong” (in English). Pretty sure that “you are strong” was simply a really bad translation from whatever it was he was trying to say, I decided to be nice (for once, while being propositioned by a male) and said “thank you.” I then promptly made my way to the produce section. Three aisles later the same man appeared yet again and said, “you are the most beautiful woman I have seen in a while.” Slightly more uncomfortable, I smiled, said thank you again and made a b-line for the cashier. As I was checking out he materialized one final time to hand me his card. Needless to say, I have not called.

3. Sometimes, there is not strength in numbers.

A couple of weeks ago we were lucky enough to have some friends stay with us here in Buenos Aires. They had been traveling through South America for several months and were desperately craving a good Mexican meal which is very hard to come by in Argentina. After a several disastrous meals at so called “Mexican restaurants,” I decided to try my hand and making chicken tacos and guacamole at home. The meal was both spicy and delicious – not quite authentic, but it certainly hit the spot! Afterwards, we decided that the only thing that could improve upon the meal was ice cream. As the four of us made our way to the local heladeria, we heard a series of whistles from the trash/street cleaning crews. We smiled and snickered a bit and then continued on our way. Moments later, while waiting to cross the street, we then encountered a man who was ranting and raving about something on his cell phone. While still talking a mile a minute, he looked us up and down and then proceeded to put his hand down his pants and fondled himself until the light changed. Charming.

From the quotebook: “And say you might, jizz in your pants and I PUKE IN MY MOUTH.”

4. Straight female? Want vacation sex? Go to the gay bar.

While our guests were still in town we decided to go out to one of the local gay clubs, Amerika. This was the second time I had been to the club – the first was during fabulous Buenos Aires Pride. The club is quite amazing; multiple levels with huge dance floors and a “back room” (or so I am told). During Pride we paid a $55 peso cover (just under $15 US) and were pleased to find an open bar all night long. The second time around the cover was slightly cheaper but the drinks were not free – a huge letdown. Still, the club was bustling, mostly with a diverse crowd of men. The music was techno, and although it not my favorite, we made our way to the dance floor anyway to dance off several glasses of wine and beer from dinner. As we danced, several men approached us at various times during the night, clearly looking to do more than just dance. When uncomfortable, one of our friends would latch onto me shouting “Es mi novia! Es mi novia!” in order to fend them off.

5. Converse are WAY sexier than bikinis

Last weekend was fairly uneventful for me and on Saturday I decided to head up to my favorite flower statue to do some reading to pass the time. As I made my way past a small park, I noticed dozens of sunbathers taking in the warm day. Suddenly, I heard whistles and cat-calls. As I looked around I discovered that they were intended for me, coming from a nearby construction crew. I was thoroughly confused as to why the men would be even remotely interested in a girl walking by in jeans, t-shirt and converse when there was a park full of half-naked women. I suppose I need to re-evaluate exactly what it means to be sexy.

The Sidewalks of Buenos Aires

I feel as though I should preface this particular blog with a disclaimer. I recently had my wallet and phone pick pocketed while on public transit. This event has left me quite bitter with Buenos Aires. I am confident that this state of mind will leave soon and I will return to my former state of city admiration but for now you can enjoy reading about many of the things that drive me slightly bonkers on a daily basis.

1. Argentineans are always in a rush, yet never in a hurry.

For the last month and a half, I have been pushed and shoved onto and out of trains, buses and airplanes. People regularly cut in front of me in line without a second thought. It is a small wonder that I have not fallen on escalators as people knock me to the side as they clamor up to the top. You would think that this aggressive behavior might be indicative of people in a constant hurry, but, strangely, it is the exact opposite. I am regularly pushed out of the way as people rush to exit the train but then get stuck behind them on the street as they walk at a pace slower than 2mph. It is confusing, frustrating and downright annoying. Most times I feel as though I could sit faster then they walk.

2. Walk and ride at your own risk

Although life here generally moves in slow motion, when driving cars, people are suddenly in quite the hurry. Aggressive drivers make for a horrifying pedestrian and passenger experience. Pedestrians never have the right of way and when crossing the street you just have to cross your fingers and hope for the best. If there is a car nearby they literally speed up when you attempt to cross the street in front of them. I have never seen anything like it! The city seems to have decent traffic planning but when nobody obeys traffic laws (if there are any) it creates a royally dangerous cluster fuck. There are several nice parks to run in here in the city but all of them are at least a mile from my house. Running to the parks is a little bit like playing real life frogger. I have nicknamed one road “Calle de Muerte” or the road of death because I have had near death experiences on a few occasions now.

While riding the bus home from school earlier this week I was attempting to catch up on some reading when suddenly a little red car decided to try to cut off about four lanes of traffic on the highway. The car lost control and went spinning in front of our bus and crashed into the median. Just another day on the Expreso Pilar.

3. If something stinks, check your shoes

Crazy drivers are not the only hazard for pedestrians. You must also be constantly on the lookout for dog shit. Although there are some neighborhoods where people are conscientious and pick up after their dogs, most neighborhoods (including my own) are not so fortunate. As far as I know I have not stepped in any yet but I feel like it may just be a matter of time.

I have been very surprised by how many dogs there are in the city. It seems like everyone has a dog despite the fact that most everyone lives in tiny apartments. Among my favorite city sites are the dog walkers who walk 5-10 dogs at a time. I think they spend more time cleaning up poop than they actually do walking. One morning on the way to Spanish class we saw a very distressed dog walker, surrounded by five dogs. As we walked by we saw the reason for his stress as he struggled to scrape poop of the side of one of the dogs. We deducted that he had dropped the poop on the dog while trying to pick it up. It was a hilarious site and I only felt a little guilty as we laughed out loud at him as we walked away.

4. It is okay to throw your trash on the streets, but only after 7pm

In addition to the shit lined streets, at night they are also lined with garbage. There are no garbage bins here or weekly scheduled garbage man visits. Instead, people simply throw all of their trash on the street after 7pm and at some point, a street cleaner (on foot usually) will come by and pick up the trash. It makes the evening hours a rather disgusting experience. They also tend to leave bits and pieces behind so the streets are almost always full of little pieces of trash, wrappers and orange peels.

You would think that with the state of the streets the people would not be worried if you bring your trash down a few hours before 7pm, but in fact it makes them quite angry. We have some visitors staying with us right now and they took the trash down in the afternoon and were yelled at for bringing it out too early. Not wanting to take trash back into the apartment, they divided the three small bags among several public trashcans on the street. When they returned from running a couple of errands they found that someone had dug the trash bags out of the trash and left them on our doorstep. Unbelievable.

"Studying" abroad

1. It takes planes, trains and automobiles to get to school

Okay, so maybe not planes, but getting to school is quite the ordeal. We have to walk about a half mile to the subway station and take the subway to the last stop on the line where we catch a bus that takes us for a 1.5ish hour ride to our school in the nearby suburb of Pilar. Altogether the process takes about 2 hours each way. Catching the bus is probably the trickiest part, as we have to make reservations in advance. The first day I called in the morning and made the reservation in broken Spanish. Unfortunately I was not told (or did not understand) which corner we were supposed to wait on. We asked one of the kiosk vendors on the streeet and of course he told us the wrong corner. So, we missed the bus – a great way to start the first day. We had to take a taxi, which was not only expensive but also frustrating, as the driver did not have any idea where our school was. After getting directions from a nearby Sheraton we somehow managed to make it in time for our first class. Luckily, since then we have successfully caught the bus and I think we have figured out the process so we do not miss it again.

Due to all the long commute and of the drama involved I am quite thankful that during the first three weeks of school we have only had class on Mondays. This makes for a very long Monday but it certainly beats a 2-hour commute on a daily basis. The days of luxury are over however as we have classes three days a week starting next week. Yes, I realize I am spoiled, and I will die when I have to go back to UCLA. No need to mention it.

From the quotebook: “I only have class on Monday? I am going to be drunk EVERY night!”

2. This is not UCLA

Our classes have been easy (or more than easy if that is possible). Most of them only have a participation grade (no exams or assignments). The topics are mildly interesting but I would probably not be taking any of them at UCLA if given the choice. There were only four classes available in English and those are the classes I have to take. So, I am not learning a ton but it is interesting to talk about business in Argentina. While in my (not so) Advanced Finance class we were discussing the valuation of options using the Black Sholes formula, which requires a “risk-free rate.” One of the students brought up that in Argentina there is no risk free rate to speak of so the model is impractical. In a later class, it was discussed that Argentineans do not invest money in Argentina because the risk associated with living here is enough. It seems that although the economy in Argentina is slowly recovering from the crash in the early 2000’s, they still have a long, long way to go.

3. Sometimes $1 is better than $100

The struggling economy is evident (and freaking annoying) almost every time I spend money. Anytime you purchase anything, vendors will ask if you have exact change or if you have smaller bills. The lack of change is a national crisis. When extracting money from the ATM you get 100 peso bills but breaking these bills is often like pulling teeth. The exchange rate is about 3.8 pesos per dollar so the $100 peso bill is just over $26 US yet nobody can make change for it – even reputable businesses. I purchased a soda at McDonalds on Sunday for about $6 pesos. I handed the woman a $50 peso bill and she told me that she could not make change. That is like buying a soda with a $10 bill and the cashier telling you they could not make change – ridiculous!

Coins are lacking more than anything and perhaps the most difficult coin (“moneda”) to come by is the 1 peso piece. People will often refuse to sell you items or round downward just to avoid giving you a $1 peso moneda as change. My roommate Nina and I have started a competition to see who can collect the most $1 peso monedas while we are here. After I win (which I will) I am thinking about posting them on ebay before I leave as a joke and also to see if anyone actually bids more than face value (I have a feeling that someone might)!

4. Early morning Spanish class often results in delirium

In my ample spare time I am attempting to improve my Spanish. The three of us non-Spanish speaking UCLA students have hired a private tutor and have been taking about 5 hours of class per week. Our teacher’s (“maestra’s”) name is Gladys (sans the Pips) and is incredibly patient with us. Most of our classes are early in the morning when my Spanish is probably at it’s worse and I am slightly delirious. We have a lot of laughs as we attempt to remember our Spanish vocabulary, often resulting in ridiculous Spanglish (e.g “el top”, “la chanderlaria” etc.). We are also learning new words, which we often find quite silly like “azafata” (stewardess) and “mesa ratona” (coffee table/exact translation = rat table, because it is small, like a rat, duh?).

Despite the silly moments, I do feel like we are steadily improving and learning some valuable vocabulary to survive in the city. Today we learned about giving directions in the city and right after class we used the skills we had just learned in the Taxi on the way home. I feel like I am understanding more and more – speaking is still very difficult for me but I hope that will come with time and practice.

From the quotebook: “Tomar es mi deporte” (To drink is my sport).

Making Lemonade in NOA

1. It is hard to be the dumb kid in class

On Monday we left for a weeklong trip to northwest Argentina (NOA) with other students from IAE. We should have known that we were in for an interesting ride as we had originally been told our trip would be Sunday through Friday but when we got our flight arrangements (two days before) we discovered it would actually be Monday through Sunday. We knew that we needed to be at the airport for our 6:40am flight to some place called Tucuman, but otherwise none of us had any idea where exactly we would be going or what we would be doing.

After landing in Tucuman it became clear that among the 30 other people on our trip, the three of us from UCLA were the only students that did not speak Spanish fluently. After a few successful days in Buenos Aires I felt somewhat confident about my Spanish but when faced with conversations beyond ordering food, asking how much things cost and taking a taxi ride, I was overwhelmed. We quickly felt like the dumb kids in school, left out of conversations and eternally confused about we were, why we were there and where we might be going next.

Upon arrival one of the professors asked ¿Hablas español? – I responded with a timid, but affirmative “Si, un poquito.” In English, he said that I had great pronunciation. Excited, I struggled to say (in Spanish), “thank you, I have never heard that before.” He smiled and said “nevermind.” So much for that.

From the quotebook: “I don’t speak Spanish this early in the morning”

2. Sometimes it is a struggle to make lemonade

A large component of our trip was company visits in the region. We were told to bring “elegant sport” to wear to the companies that we visited but my business casual (what I assume is meant by "elegant sport") never even came out of my bag. We visited an odd combination of companies including a lemon-sorting facility, lemon farm, a petroleum company, a winery, a sugar factory and an old tobacco farm. None of these companies called for “elegant sport” nor were they particularly interesting for aspiring MBAs. The (really, really, really) long talks that were given by the companies were almost entirely in Spanish and although I understood a lot of what was said, it made my head spin and my eyes heavy. During the talk at the petroleum company I was nearly asleep when someone asked a question about women working for the company. The man responded that they did not like to hire women because they get pregnant… it is a good thing that my Spanish is terrible.

With two days full of lemons many of us joked about “when life gives you lemons… [insert various phrases here]” and after a (disgusting) tour of the sugar plant it seemed had most of the ingredients to make lemonade but still all we could think about was getting back Buenos Aires. In the end, I was glad that I went on the trip but I do not think that I will be visiting the region again anytime soon.

From the quotebook: While touring Pachamama - “Where are we?!” - “I don’t know, something about your mama”

3. Argentinean eating habits are not good for my health

Most evening, I find myself rather hungry around 8pm and shaking with low blood sugar by the time the Argentinean dinnertime of 10pm rolls around. When dinner is finally served, it is typically giant portions of meat with bread and (sometimes) vegetables. So I am starving at 9:59pm and stuffed beyond belief by 10:59pm – there is no way that this is good for my metabolism.

On the first night of the trip we were invited to one of our classmate’s parent’s home for an asada (bbq) dinner. I was so hungry that I was drunk after a single glass of wine and stayed that way for the rest of the night as I drank (a lot) more and ate a variety of delicious salads and bread while my classmates gorged on huge portions of beef. I am fairly certain that an entire cow was grilled that night and am positive that Tommy ate at least half of it. I am told that the beef here is simply delicious and although I do plan to try it at least once before I leave, I am not ready for a sample quite yet. Not eating beef confuses most of the South Americans and nobody even considers that there may be a vegetarian (or anti-mammalatarian) at mealtime – luckily I have managed to eat quite well on the trip despite this oversight. My one complaint with the food is that there is little to no spice whatsoever, no hot sauce and rarely even pepper on the table. Anyone who wants send me a care package with a bottle of Cholula, feel free.

From the quotebook: “My heart could not take a side of beef. I had to get McDonalds”

4. When they say party until the sun comes up, they mean it.

Because dinner does not finish until at least 11pm this means that going out to bars and clubs also happens extremely late. We were preparing to go out to a club in what I think was a town called San Salvador de Jujuy, when one of the locals told us that that the club would be fun but he was upset that it would close at 4am. I was confused for a moment, but I then realized that he felt that this was too early for the club to close. I can barely make it to 2am in the United States!

We arrived at the club around midnight and it was completely empty. I was surprised because even though we were in the middle of nowhere, it was Friday night! Slowly the crowds started to roll in and the place was packed by the time I was ready to make my exit at 3am. We drank, chatted and danced to the familiar sounds of Lady Gaga. It makes me tired just thinking about it but we all had a great time (despite the spider that was floating in my first drink).

It Begins!

This blog is slightly outdated now but it is taking me time to write them, type them up and find a reliable internet connection to post. I hope to get myself caught up in the next few days! I will also try to add some pictures once time permits and my connection is sufficient.

1. Bienvenido a Buenos Aires

After a journey of more than 24 hours, I arrived in Buenos Aires last Friday afternoon. I thought that it took me forever to get to Kenya but somehow it took even longer to get to Argentina. It is quite far but I must also blame United Airlines for the length of my journey. My flight to Buenos Aires was delayed in Washington D.C. for more than four hours. I should have known that when they brought out blankets, snacks and drinks we were in for the long haul.

Despite the inevitable flakiness of United Airlines, the rest of the journey went surprisingly well. Upon arriving in Buenos Aires my driver was standing there waiting for me with a smile on his face and my name on his board. We had a short drive to my apartment in the Palermo barrio in Buenos Aires. I was surprised at how organized the highways seemed to be (at least in comparison to Africa) and the number of toll plazas we had to pass through in such a short stretch. When we arrived at my new apartment we had to wait only for a few minutes for the owner to show up with the keys. The apartment is small but adorable and has all of the necessary amenities including cable television – a luxury I don’t even have in Los Angeles! All of this comes at a price that is less than half of my Los Angeles rent. My meager student budget could get used to this place!

2. No entiendo

It did not take long for me to realize the accent in Argentina is much different than anything that I am used to (if you could even say that I am used to any accent when it comes to the Spanish language). Perhaps the most notable difference is in the pronunciation of the double l - in Argentina is has a strange j/ch sound. When ordering a chicken (pollo) empanada on my first night the cashier looked at me like I was from another planet. I had to point to the item on the menu so that he would understand. It will definitely take some getting used to but at least the empanada was delicious!

3. Que Bonita!

School does not start until October 26^th but I am taking a trip to North West Argentina on October 19^th with other students in my program. This left me with a couple of days to recover from jet lag and to explore Buenos Aires before my next adventure. I mostly walked around the city and visited a couple of spots of interest. I must say that the city is everything that I expected and perhaps more – truly the “Paris “of South America. There are charming, tree lined neighborhoods, many complete with cobblestone streets and iron terraces.

On Saturday I took my first ride on the Buenos Aires subway (subte) and I was quite impressed and the price was right at about $0.30 per trip. It is amazing that a city in South America can have effective public transit while Los Angeles continues to be a complete mess. I took the subte to Recoletta and visited the Recoletta cemetery where Evita and other famous (and rich) Argentinean have been laid to rest. In general, I find cemeteries horrifying but this one was quite amazing. I spent nearly an hour just walking around and admiring the strange beauty that the tombs have. I am happy to report that despite what I believe about cemeteries, no ghosts, goblins jumped out at me and my soul is still intact (as far as I know).

Two days was not nearly enough to take in the entire city – I still have a lot of exploring and orienting to do when I get back from my trip. I turn the wrong way almost every time I leave my apartment so I will have to keep a map in my back pocket for the next several weeks until I have it figured out.

4. Me encanta Quilmes

As you might expect, it took me less than 24 hours to find and sample the local beer, Quilmes – I approve. After the cemetery on Saturday afternoon I spent several hours at an expatriate bar in Recoletta with Tommy, one of my UCLA classmates watching college football over several beers. It felt a little strange watching American football in Argentina but the beer was cheap and delicious. UCLA lost and USC won but all things considered it was a quite pleasant afternoon.

5. No quiero viajar solo

I spent most of my first two days in Buenos Aires alone as Nina, my Buenos Aires roommate, was on a short trip to Uruguay when I arrived. Although I enjoyed the two days it became very clear that I am not really cut out to travel alone. It is not nearly as fun to explore when you have nobody to compare notes with – not to mention that it makes for far less interesting stories for blogging! Luckily, Nina arrived back in Buenos Aires on Sunday night – I was relieved and am hopeful that I will have more interesting (and funny) things to write about in future blogs!

Some final insights

1. My great, great, great, great grandfathers were assholes

 The day after our program officially ended in Ghana we hired a driver to take us to Cape Coast, a town about 165 km west of Accra.  Cape Coast is the home of the Cape Coast Castle, a hub for the trans-Atlantic slave trade, beginning in the 1600’s.  After a very bumpy, 2 hour drive from Accra we finally arrived at the castle.  We found a white washed fortress right on the sea, complete with waves periodically crashing on the western walls.

While on a tour, we learned that the castle was built by the Swedish in 1653 but changed ownership several times over the next decade, eventually ending up in the hands of the British in 1664.   The castle was originally designed for gold and timber trade but once Europeans realized the profit potential of human slave trade it was re-purposed.  We were first taken into the male slave dungeons that, at capacity, could hold up to 1000 slaves – unbelievable seeing as how the spaces we saw seemed only slightly bigger than my Los Angeles apartment.  The slaves were held in the dark, musty dungeons for up to three months before they were loaded on ships destined for America.  How anyone could survive in these accommodations for that length of time, without knowing why they were there or where they were going is beyond me.  We also viewed the women’s dungeon, which could hold up to 500 women.  In addition to enduring the terrible conditions in the dungeons, many of the women slaves were also periodically pulled from their chains only to be raped by the European soldiers.

I got fairly emotional during on tour as I took in all of my surroundings at the castle.  It is hard to believe that my European ancestors were involved in this type of activity for well over 100 years – I am deeply shamed by their inhumanity.  In elementary and middle school I was quite fascinated by the trans-Atlantic slave trade; I read books and wrote a few papers but none of the stories that I encountered during my research quite prepared me for what I found in Cape Coast.

 

2. The Fresh Prince would be jealous of this Big Milly Style

We were all exhausted after our emotional tour of the Cape Coast Castle and although we had planned an excursion to a nearby rainforest, we opted instead to return back to Accra a little early for a beer on the beach.  The rest of our stay in Ghana was at a beachside hostel outside of Accra called “Big Milly’s Backyard.”  We were all quite excited about a couple relaxing days at the beach, a much anticipated 24-hour bar and the promise of a menu that included vegetables.   Getting there was quite a challenge as the road to Big Milly’s was nothing short of horrifying, full of over-eager pedestrians and potholes the size of swimming pools.  Our driver was quite concerned about his vehicle as he twisted and turned down the road attempting to avoid the plethora of hazards.  Instead of slowing down, like the average, sane driver, he instead sped up, zooming over bumps and holes at 50mph.  We all held our breath, closed our eyes and prayed a little.

When we finally arrived at Big Milly’s we decided we would stay put for the rest of the trip, not wanting to brave the road again until we were ready to return home.  After some drama with our room (which we had reserved several weeks before), we found ourselves in the Big Milly Suite on the first night.  Although we paid 24 cidi more than we had wanted (about $19), we realized we had been quite spoiled when we moved to a smaller room the next night, which was full of creatures and lacking in many luxuries, most notably a hot water heater.  We managed to enjoy the majority of our stay, drinking a lot of 1 cidi drinks (about $.072) and decent meals.  The beach was not exactly what we had hoped but we enjoyed a few scenic walks and watched the local children play in the waves (whoever said black people do not swim has not been to Ghana).

 

3. Sometimes a private beach is a bad thing

On our last day in Ghana we enjoyed a delicious breakfast and then ventured out for a walk on the beach.  The day before, the beach was full of people fishing, swimming and just hanging out and we were surprised to find it nearly empty (we later learned that the locals do not fish on Tuesdays).  At first, I was glad to avoid the circus of attention that we tend to attract, but once I realized we were being followed, I longed for the bustling activity of the day before.  The man followed us for a quite a while and when he continued to follow us after we turned back toward the hostel I knew we were in trouble.  We walked quickly and I kept looking back at him so that he knew that I knew what he was up to.  After a while I got a bit distracted and it was in that moment that he came up from behind me and grabbed my camera.  The camera was strapped to my wrist so he was not able to simply grab it and take off running.  We struggled for what seemed like several minutes. One of my colleagues got involved and at one point we had thrown the man onto the ground, but after he got up and grabbed me again and barely flinched when he was repeatedly kicked in his male region, it was clear that we were not going to win the battle.  I finally let the camera go and burst into tears as we ran back toward to hostel.  It was easily one of the scariest moments of my life, but I am relieved that we escaped with only a few scrapes and bruises.  In the words of my colleague, “be thankful that he just stole your camera, not your vagina” – such wisdom.

 

4. There is no place like home

After the mugging, I was more than ready to go home.   We arrived at the Accra airport early, which turned out to be a very good thing as we spent the next two hours navigating the most ridiculously inefficient system I have ever seen.  We were asked for our passports no less than 11 times before we finally boarded the plane.   The whole experience was nothing short of unbelievable although uneventful compared to some of the horror stories we had heard from other tourists.  It is fairly common for visitors to be arrested as they pass through immigration due to various visa-related technicalities.  Immigration officers request that they pay bribes in order to be released.  I breathed a sigh of relief when the immigration officer that questioned me let me through after he had reprimanded me for being a “lazy American” because I didn’t complete one of the dates on my immigration paperwork. 

The next 22 hours were some of the most miserable in recent memory as I was nauseous nearly the whole time, complete with a fever, chills and body aches.  After seeing the movie Outbeak only a few days before, I was nervous I might be bringing some type of rare African plague back into the United States but after a week at home, I am happy to report that I appear to be the picture of health. 

I was overjoyed when we finally landed in Los Angeles.  As we drove home I was excited to see stoplights and traffic laws being observed once again.  Although I enjoyed my experiences in Africa and would not trade them for anything I am glad to be back where the world makes sense again, where I can blend in with the crowd, where I can drink water out of the faucet and can find turkey sandwiches on nearly every corner.

MDI Unwrapped

Our program in Ghana is wrapping up today and starting tomorrow we will be staying at a hostel near the beach call "Big Milly's Backyard" (such amazing names for establishments here in Ghana). We will spend our last three days playing full time tourists. Unfortunately, this also means that we will lose access to the internet for the remainder of the trip. This will be my last post until I return to the U.S - I hope you do not go into withdrawal without me!

A significant portion of my experience in Africa thus far comes through my interaction with participants in the Management Development Institute (MDI). As their teaching associate, I have helped each of them develop Community Health Improvement Plans (CHIPs) so that they may improve their organizations and/or the impact they have on their communities. I have been inspired by their passion, stories and ambitious plans for change.

The projects that have been developed here are dramatically different than those that were developed by the community health clinics that we worked with in the United States. During our Los Angeles programs, we saw CHIPs that largely focused on improving profitability, operations and infrastructure. In Africa, the projects go to a very basic level of educating communities about HIV/AIDS and extending testing, counseling and treatment services to those that need them. These are the stories of the participants I worked with during from the first MDI in Nairobi, Kenya (stay tuned for more about my Ghana participants).



Dr. Ssali and Dr. Kawooya represented the Uganda Cares initiative. They face a rural community where the HIV/AIDS prevalence continues to soar, especially among young people. Many infected youth do not know their status and continue to unknowingly spread the disease to others. At the MDI, Dr. Ssali and Dr. Kawooya set an ambitious goal to double the number of people being tested in their region from 125,000 to 250,000 annually. In order to achieve this they will initiate a public awareness campaign to mobilize the community around the importance of “knowing your status.” They also have plans to implement mobile testing clinics so that access to testing from rural areas is no longer an excuse for not being tested.



Andrew and Diana represented the Northern Uganda Malaria, AIDS & Tuberculosis Program. Northern Uganda has endured intense armed conflict for the last two decades. Although the situation is improving, the HIV/AIDS prevalence rate in the region is the remains over 8% (over 250,000 people). Post-conflict, the region has limited resources for the care and treatment of people living with HIV/AIDS (PLWHA) – there are currently only four CD4 machines in the entire region (used to monitor T-Cell counts in PLWHA). At the MDI, Andrew and Diana built a strategy to maximize the capacity of the CD4 testing machines in order to reach to 13,000 additional PLWHAs in Northern Uganda. Their project will begin with an assessment and evaluation of the cost effectiveness and performance indicators of various models of care.



Maryam represented the Benjamin Mkapa HIV/AIDS Foundation in Tanzania. The Benjamin Mkapa Foundation works to build the capacity of health workers that provide HIV/AIDS care and treatment in Tanzania. Many areas of Tanzania are very remote and the people in these areas have poor knowledge about HIV/AIDS, how to prevent it or how to treat it. Furthermore, many HIV/AIDS infected pregnant women in the region deliver their children at home instead of established health facilities. This results in increased rates of women passing HIV/AIDS to their newborns, as they are not aware of preventative measures they can take to protect their children. Upon her return to Tanzania, Maryam will institute a program to better train community health care workers so that they may conduct outreach activities to engage rural pregnant women and educate them about the benefits of delivery in health facilities. Though this program, she hopes to reduce the transmission of the virus from mothers to child by 20% in one region of Tanzania.



Samali and Henry represented the AIDS Information Centre Uganda. There is increased HIV/AIDS awareness in their region and they have found themselves inundated with demand for HIV/AIDS counseling and treatment services. With limited resources, they must find new, innovative methods in order to meet the demand for their services. After the MDI program, they believe they can reach 200,000 more clients through programs designed to mobilize the local communities including home to home care, community camping and couples campaigns (to engage the male head of household in counseling and care).

Not cut out to be Ghanaian

1. Old Bob is the gateway to good food and local celebrities

As it turns out, Old Bob does have fairly good food – hands down the best meal I have had in Ghana thus far (though after you read insight #3, you will see is not really saying much). After braving unbelievable traffic, we arrived at the restaurant and were introduced to the owner, Angela. When asked for recommendations, she told us that Bob’s seafood was the best in Accra and probably in all of West Africa - a claim that I could not let pass by. My seafood platter was pretty good but I could have done without the deep fried baby barracudas.

In addition to raving about her seafood, Angela also raved about her brother Fritz, a member of parliament in Ghana and the man who gave Obama the tour of the former slave holding facility at Cape Coast, Ghana during his visit in July. We were rather impressed, and my professor said “wow, I would love to meet him and hear his stories.” Angela gave him a ring and as we were finishing dinner Fritz walked in just in time to sing happy birthday to me and watch as I blew out the candle on my fried ice cream (delicious). He then shared a drink and many insights about Obama’s visit, Africa and the world (he liked Michelle best). Fritz has his hands in a number of different activities from entertainment to health care to politics – as he spoke I wondered if all his stories were true. How could such an important man randomly show up to chat with a few American tourists at his sister’s restaurant? I googled him and found that indeed, he was Obama’s guide at Cape Coast. I got his card - organic networking at its best.



2. Ghana is Obamarama

Speaking of Obama, remnants of his July visit are everywhere in Accra. As you drive through the streets you see huge billboards welcoming him. Just like Kenya, there are Obama trinkets for sale in all of the markets including art, bags and t-shirts. At first I thought that the merchants were just trying to take advantage of ignorant American tourists, excited by seeing their President’s image on souvenirs, but then I saw the woman below at the market yesterday, decked out in her Obama gear. Obama is kind of a BFD.



3. Sad tummy = sad Jess

It has been nearly two weeks now since I left home and homesickness is beginning to surface. After some contemplation, I blame it on the food. Unlike Kenya, everything in Ghana very oily, vegetables are nearly non-existent and the fish is inedible (for me), as it has not been de-boned. Beyond just not tasting that great, the food has also left all of us with upset stomachs (or worse). It is sad but true that my mood is dramatically altered when my stomach is not happy. I am starting to become anxious to go home, longing for my own bed, a turkey sandwich, a chocolate chip cookie and a bowl of broccoli.


4. Opportunities to purchase random crap are everywhere

Although we are saving many of our Ghana tourist activities for after the program is over, we did find some time to go in town yesterday to visit a couple of markets. On the way to the market we had to drive through dozens of hawkers, selling goods to the cars passing by. “Would you like a screwdriver? No? How about a rubik’s cube? No? How about a painting of the last supper?” The most random mix of crap I have ever seen in my life – highly entertaining.

After getting through the hawkers, we arrived at Makola, the largest market in Accra. Makola started off okay as we visited a couple of stands offering fabrics and jewelry but quickly went downhill. Somehow we ended up in a claustrophobia-inducing maze of fish, shrimp, giant snails and pigs’ feet. The smell was more than I could handle and I nearly had a panic attack when we could not figure out how to get out. Despite my horror, I am glad we went so that we could get a look at where locals shop and what they eat. I have no intentions of going back though, ever.



After a rough experience at the Makola market we asked our taxi driver to take us somewhere a bit more “touristy”. He took us to a much more open market that had jewelry, wood carvings and art. We were all were able to find a few things to buy here although overall I have been disappointed that there does not seem to be any items of higher quality for purchase. I am afraid that most of my purchases will fall apart in short order. Perhaps we are going to the wrong places – I hope we can find the “right places” before we leave. My Ghanaian cidis (the local currency) are burning a whole in my pocket.

27 in Ghana

1. Old Bob has a fine dining establishment in Accra

We have not yet had the opportunity to see Accra because the college campus we are staying at is about 40 minutes (depending on traffic) from the city center. I have enjoyed being in one, enclosed, safe place but I am getting a little bit restless to get a better look at what life is like in Ghana. Just in the nick of time, the professors that we have been working with invited us out to dinner in the city tonight. We are going to a restaurant called “Old Bob’s” – sounds questionable but apparently it is delicious. I hope that it is a suitable birthday dinner and that, somehow, they have magically imported a birthday cake from Sweet Lady Jane’s.

2. Even a Star cannot beat a Tusker

Having developed quite the Tusker habit in Nairobi, our waistlines could have probably benefited from a hiatus in Ghana, but as you might have guessed, we will have nothing of it. We quickly discovered the two local lagers, Star and Club. We had a taste test last night in my room over a friendly card game. We can no longer drink (and gossip) in the hotel bar because, in Ghana, all of our participants are in the same hotel as us – so every night will be a mini pajama party. Star came out on top in the taste test but it will never replace my beloved Tusker.



On the topic of beer, we also discovered that Guinness is quite popular here. The small bar downstairs stocks two types of Guinness lager (or we thought they were both lager anyway). On opening night, some of the guests brought their children to dinner. At one point we looked over and saw what looked like an eight year old boy chugging a Guinness. We were relieved when we found out that the Guinness the boy was drinking was “Malta” which is a non-alcoholic malt beverage made by Guinness – thank goodness!

3. You sweat a lot when you run in the jungle

Being on an enclosed college campus, I have finally been able to resume some type of exercise routine. In Nairobi there was a small gym in the hotel with a single bike and treadmill, but it was only open during certain hours of the day, and because I despise the treadmill I only worked out a couple of times. My colleagues and I have run the last two mornings, and although people stare at us like we are crazy, I feel much better now. This morning, we saw two other people running - I got a bit giddy with excitement when I saw them; it seems that we are not alone in the world! Running here is a bit more difficult than at home in Los Angeles because of the intense humidity. After only a couple of miles I was drenched with sweat - that will teach us to run in a jungle!

A Change of Scenery

1. We NOT gon' party like it's my birthday

On Saturday night after the graduation dinner we went out one last time in Nairobi. My colleagues had dancing on the mind and were determined to find it. We visited a bar called “Afreak” (clever) and then a club called “Black Diamond.” I had fun people watching but I am not much of a dancer (unless I am heavily intoxicated) and was not a fan of the male attention that I received–flattering but quite uncomfortable. My birthday is tomorrow and although I would typically have “big plans” I told my colleagues that I was not really interested in clubbing in Accra after my Nairobi experience. This was validated when we asked a local what to do in Accra and he told me that there were a lot of clubs in town where he “holds women close and dances vigorously.” No thank you.

2. My happiness is relative to the speed of my internet connection

We flew into Accra, Ghana yesterday afternoon. I am happy report that there were no unaccompanied minors nearby, just a screaming baby – I really cannot win. Despite the noise, exhausted from a long night out in Nairobi, I managed to sleep for most of the 5-hour flight. First impressions of Ghana are good – there is a lot more vegetation here and everything is very green as it is the rainy season. Although we will miss the Olive Gardens (it grew on us), we were all happy to arrive at the Executive Hostel at the Ghana Institute of Management and Public Administration (GIMPA) where we found clean, spacious and modern rooms, complete with an internet connection that moves at light speed (at least compared to olivenet in Kenya). Finally, I was able to call home without a delay and clearly seeing my girlfriend’s face on video chat really made my day.

3. HIV/AIDS is not the only crisis that we are combating in Africa

From the giant mounds of rice, potatoes, meat and vegetables that we receive on our plates each meal, you would never know that there are millions of people starving in Africa. Now, before you accuse me of being ignorant, I do realize that we are in a controlled environment and are not really witnessing what and how much most people eat in Africa but it is still quite surprising. Last night we had a buffet dinner at the Ghana opening ceremony, we sat with a couple of the locals that work in the Public Relations at GIMPA. One of them was extremely thin and I was shocked when he came back from the buffet with a towering plate of food. We all agreed that there was no way that he would finish it. He laughed at me and told me that HIV/AIDS was not the biggest problem in Africa, it is malnutrition, and he was conquering it, singlehandedly.

It's a wrap in Nairobi

1. Al Jazeera is really just like CNN

During limited free time, I have been enjoying having a television available in my hotel room (I don’t have such luxuries while at home in Los Angeles).  On my first night in Africa, I was scanning the available stations and was somewhat disappointed when I found that most of them were of the bible thumper type.  After digging a bit deeper, I managed to find a few gems in the channel lineup including a 24 hour soccer network, the Hallmark channel and surprisingly,  Al Jazeera.  I have never watched Al Jazeera before, and all I knew prior to my arrival in Nairobi was that it was a “terrorist network” – or at least according the American media.  What I have found is that really, Al Jazeera is a news source like any other.  Although it might have a Muslim bias, it is no more corrupt than the other stations– and far less corrupt than the likes of FOX news.

2.  I may avoid mammals but I am still a carnivore

The Nairobi locals that we have worked with and met have all encouraged us to visit a place in town called “The Carnivore.”  After hearing about it all week, we decided to make a dinner trip on Thursday evening.  It turns out that the Carnivore is a meat house – serving all you can eat meat off of skewers that “carvers” carry past your table throughout your meal.  Most of the meat is familiar – chicken, turkey, beef, lamb and pork but there are a few more exotic offerings including ostrich (we were also promised zebra and crocodile but never saw any of these skewers make an appearance).   Carnivore is strangely close to the national park (called the “game park” by the locals) that we visited on Wednesday, but despite a questionable locale, we thoroughly ourselves.  For those of you that are wondering, no I did not eat the mammals; I managed to get quite full on all of the avian options (the ostrich meatballs were delicious). 

3.  Yes, Africa can too

Yesterday, we had the opportunity to visit the Masai market in Nairobi.  The trinkets and tokens that were available were what as expected; handmade jewelery, bags, scarves etc. but what was not expected were many images of Obama.  There were blankets woven with his face, and beaded bracelets with his name and “U.S.A.” enscribed on them. The Kenyan people have embraced the election of Obama and regard him as a symbol of hope for change on their own continent.  There have been many “yes, we can” references during our classes and during our dinner last night, the keynote speaker asked the audience “Who will be Africa’s Obama?”’  They also see his election as a celebratory end to the Bush regime – while talking to one of the staff at the training facility yesterday he told us (without prompting) that the Americans were seen as bullies when Bush was in power and that he is hopeful that this will end now that we have elected Obama.

It is fascinating to think about what an impact our politics have on other parts of the world. Even though I do not like to think of the United States as the center of the universe, in some ways I suppose it is.  If we must be the center of attention, I am glad that the attention is finally leaning toward the positive.  Although I cannot imagine owning an Obama blanket anytime soon, I am glad that they are for sale.

4. Sometimes the wrapping is more precious than the present

While at the market, one of my colleagues purchased some fragile souvenirs, which were wrapped in newspaper in order to protect them on the trip home.  Upon returning to the bus we investigated the newspaper and found it to be of a questionable nature – the main article was titled “Secrets of Women’s deadly Body Parts.”  Upon reading it, we realized we had gotten a souvenir unlike any other.   The text of one of the paragraphs, referring to the “bum” started with “These sexplosive cannon balls…”  Truly priceless.

The evidence

5.  The white girl dance is even whiter in Africa

Last night, we wrapped up our program in Kenya with a gradation ceremony and dinner.  We held similar graduations during our programs at UCLA but the atmosphere was never quite like it was here in Africa.  All of the participants were festively dressed in “African” attire and after dinner there was traditional (I think) African dancing.  As you might imagine, there were some rather funny moments during the dancing shenanigans – my lack of rhythm was more apparent than ever during my signature white girl dance, but I did not care too much after several Tuskers (I will miss them).  It was an amazing week in Kenya and I am very excited to see what is in store for us over the next week in Accra!

Me with one of my participants

Inspiring, random, and awkward insights from Nairobi

1. The show always goes on in Kenya

I have been very surprised by how flexible the people here are.  We have experienced more technical difficulties and disruptions than I can count.  The participants in the program seem to just roll with it, without complaining. In one minute I tell them to work in the website, then the internet goes down and I tell them to work in a soft copy offline, then the power goes out and I tell them to work on a hard copy.  If this had happened in the United States our participants would have screamed mutiny.  In Africa they just smile and continue working diligently. One of the professors said it best when the power suddenly went out during her lecture, “We will continue, even if the lights go out.  We will always continue…” 

 2.  They don’t teach you this in business school

Our main job in Africa is to help Management Development Institute participants develop a HIV/AIDS Community Health Improvement Project.  We run nightly workshops and provide feedback on their plans as they are being developed.  Yesterday, a team of participants from Somalia explained the challenges they have with getting their services to some rural HIV/AIDS patients.  As MBA students our first thought is “why don’t you implement a project to take your services to these patients?”  Their response, “it is too dangerous!”  We forget that the solutions that work in the United States will not always work here - you might get shot.

 3. Swahilish is the official language of Kenya

Swahili and English are both regarded as the “official” languages of Kenya, but after spending a week here it seems that the two languages have merged to form a single primary language, which I have affectionately nicknamed Swahilish.  This is particularly evident when listening to Radio Jambo, one of the local radio stations.  Yesterday morning en route to the training facility, a Whitney Houston song came to an end (90’s pop is the hottest thing here in Nairobi), the DJ uttered a series of words in Swahili and then completed his sentence with “she is still a diva.”  Amazing.

4. Going to Africa is not a weight loss program

I was somewhat certain that I would lose weight while in Africa but it has become clear that will not happen and in fact I might be gaining weight.  The food is abundant at every meal and for the most part, delicious.  I have been enjoying various kinds of cooked vegetables, potatoes, beans and rice.  The meat is quite plentiful but for the most part I have stayed away from it because 1) The fish has little bones it, 2) the chicken is still on the bone, which I have irrational issues with, and 3) mammals are still off limits, even in Africa.  My favorite thus far has been cooked plantains but I must be careful - yesterday I was informed that they “make women fat” (not sure if this means have no such impact on men).  One consolation is that the desserts here are less than stellar; Kenyans don’t seem to have big sweet tooths and typically enjoy fresh fruit after their meals.  I have avoided the fruit because it looks really sad compared to what I am used to in California and I am told that it could have parasites – not my idea of a good time. Even though I have been skipping dessert more often than usual, I am more than making up for those calories with our nightly Tusker tradition, which continues, in case you are concerned.

5. When all else fails, eat Papaya

On the topic of Tusker, last night we had our first opportunity to go out on the town and experience some Nairobi nightlife.  We had dinner at a very nice restaurant, Tamambo, and then went to an expatriate club called Havana. The patrons of both the restaurant and club seem to be either foreigners or from the Nairobi upper class. It was nice to have a more upscale night in Nairobi (although it is not really hard to be more upscale than a night at the Olive Gardens). 

Although I had a very fun night, I was a little saddened by several women loitering at the club who were clearly prostitutes.  In this environment, I can understand why many women might feel they must resort to this profession but I am really astounded that any man would accept the risks associated with having anonymous sex in a country where the HIV/AIDS prevalence is more than 5%.  I recognize that people have urges but as I learned in a very uncomfortable moment in class today “…People can live without sex… There are natural ways of reducing urges... like eating Papaya.”  Awkward (especially considering it was an information systems class).

A ghetto safari

1. A Toyota Corolla is not exactly a Landrover

Yesterday, we got to take a break from sitting in on classes and engaged in a few tourist activities. We wanted to visit the local National Park - 117 square km of wild Serengeti animals.  There are many safari companies that do half-day safaris in the park but these options were a little pricy for the likes of cash-strapped students.  We spoke to one of the locals that we have been working with to see if there were cheaper options available. Luckily, he arranged a driver to drive us through the park at a significantly reduced rate.  The driver pulled up in a circa 1992 Toyota Corolla. Initially, I did not think much of the car, but when we arrived at the park and saw that most of the other vehicles were 4 wheel drives, I was slightly concerned.  We had quite a bumpy and dusty day in our little car.  At one point we had descended into a canyon and were trying to get back out on the other side.  The driver had to make a few attempts but, finally, after he backed up, reved the engine and charged up the hill, we made it. 

Our Toyota Corolla - see the more common (and rational) 4 wheel drive Safari vehicle in the background.

2. Don’t assume the driver knows where he is going

Beyond having an appropriate vehicle, it might have also been somewhat beneficial to have a driver who actually knew his way around the park.  We got lost several times and for some reason, the driver thought we (the tourists?!) should have been paying attention to where we were going.  We were in a bit of disbelief when he asked us if we knew how to get back to the gate.  He just kept shaking his head saying “How are we lost - we are four?!”  With less than a quarter tank of gas left, the prospect of being stranded on the Serengeti in a Toyota Corolla with broken windows was a bit frightening, but eventually we navigated ourselves out of the park. 

My heart stopped a few times and I am fairly certain that the driver’s suspension is completely shot after the journey but I would not change a thing.  We have a story to tell and saw more wild animals close up than I could have imagined.  The baboons were my favorite; they swarmed one of the picnic sites and found their way into the trash.   Some were licking paper plates and others were trying to get any type of crumbs out of empty bread bags.  Suddenly, two males began fighting over a female that was obviously in heat as evidenced by her “fancy butt.” I may have screamed a little and run back to the car but I enjoyed the experience nonetheless!

3. For some, I am the most exotic thing at the zoo

After finding our way out of the National Park we visited the nearby “Animal Orphanage.”  The so called orphanage was really nothing more than a zoo designed to draw in tourists that do not know better, but I am still glad that we went.  We saw a lion try to attack a boy who had found his way over the first of two fences to take a closer picture.  He screamed and ran as the lion charged up behind him.  Somehow the experience was both horrifying and hilarious.  Later we found a group of naughty school children that had given a monkey a sucker – seeing a monkey eat a lollipop is one of my favorite images of all time.  Finally, our guide introduced us to a monkey who was not in the cages and enticed him to mount our heads and shoulders with peanuts.  Again, a horrifying yet hilarious experience. 

Although there was a plethora of exotic and entertaining animals in the orphanage I found that most of the patrons were much more interested in staring at me.  I venture to guess that they have probably seen a lot of monkeys, lions and hyenas in their time but very few white girls. Unfortunately, none of them asked for my autograph.

4. Kikuyu is not a term of endearment

There are a total of four teaching associates here from UCLA, three of us are white and one black.  It is clear that three of us are a bit out of place in Nairobi but my black colleague just might be able to pass for a local (assuming she changed her fashion habits and was mute). One of the men in our program told her “I almost thought you were Kenyan but then I saw you walk”, then someone said “Just tell them you are Kikuyu,” and everyone around giggled.  We know that Kikuyu is the largest tribe in Kenya, but she shrugged the comment off for a couple of days, not really knowing what was meant by it.  Yesterday, she finally asked our driver and he got a very embarrassed look on his face.  Trying to be as nice as possible he said, “the Kikuyu women stand on corners.”  So basically, they called her a whore (and all before she had two beers and a cigarette), nice.

5. Ignorance really is bliss

After breaking the ice with her question about Kikuyu, our driver decided it was his turn to ask some hard questions. He asked her if white people were angry with her in America.  Somewhat confused, she said “not really angry…” and then he responded with “Everyone is angry here.” It was somewhat surprising to hear this because most everyone seems quite cheerful most of the time. 

This question came on the way back to our hotel as we drove past the Kibera slum.  We did not go inside the slum for obvious reasons but just viewing it from the outside was completely overwhelming.  The poverty was striking although somehow orderly; the shacks, constructed from mud and sticks, were organized and the streets seemed mostly clear.  We were shocked to learn from our driver that Kibera had been in existence for almost 100 years.  Here, homelessness is not something that happens due to bad luck or poor decisions; it is a permanent structure and way of life.

Our driver’s comments and our brief look at Kibura made me realize that we are experiencing only the surface of Nairobi.  We are taking in the sights but we may never really understand what the people are going through here, but I am not sure that I could handle it if we did.