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.  

The bars may close but the blogs must go on

1.  You can count as many people as you want but do not deprive me of my beer

In yesterday’s Kenyan Daily Nation, Cabinet Minister Prof George Saitoti was quoted saying “Let us take a break from drinking…”  All bars and “entertainment places” are closed today for a public holiday, which was declared in order to conduct the 2009 Kenyan census.  Despite this, Tusker and I still have big plans tonight.  Every night since we arrived in Kenya, my traveling compadres and I have shared stimulating conversation over a Tusker or two in the hotel bar - this tradition will continue.  I only hope that we can top last night’s discussion with wrapped with the statement “Just give me two beers and a cigarette and I am a whore.”

The census holiday (declared only yesterday) forced our program to be held at a nearby hotel today instead of the usual training center.  As we walked to the hotel this morning the streets were quiet and empty.  We were thrilled because this meant that we would not have to fear for our lives as we crossed the streets.  There are no stoplights at any of the intersections, only round-abouts, which create a horrifying death trap for pedestrians (or at least for this pedestrian).  The lack of stop lights would probably be fine for a small town or city but considering the population of Nairobi is estimated at around 4 million (to be confirmed with this week’s census), it is what I fondly refer to as a “cluster fuck.”

2.  "Flying Toilet" is a technical term

One of the first things we heard about in Nairobi was the existence of Kibura, one of the largest (if not the largest) slums in East Africa.  The population of the slum is estimated at about a million (again, to be confirmed with this week’s census).   We quickly learned that there are virtually no toilets in the slum and “flying toilets” are prevalent.  We were confused at first, but my (rather blunt) colleague quickly confirmed that, in fact, this means that they “throw their shit.”  After doing a bit more research I learned that slum residents defecate in bags and the flying toilet activities are conducted at night.  Where exactly they are throwing the bags is still unclear (hopefully not in the direction of the Olive Gardens hotel) but, as you can imagine, such behavior creates an enormous public health situation.

As long as we are discussing the topic of toilets, while using the restroom yesterday I continually found the toilet seats were left up in the women’s restroom.  I am completely perplexed as to what the rational is for this and even the biggest know-it-all ever (Google) does not know.   It was a major topic of discussion at the hotel bar last night and we came up with a few ideas:

• The culture here is reversed – women leave the toilet seat up for the men
•  Health and sanitation reasons that have become a part of the culture
•  The women are not used to having a toilet seat and feel more comfortable using the restroom with it up

My rather blunt colleague attempted to get the real story today from one of the locals but when she asked the woman just laughed and immediately turned to her friend and giggled several sentences in Swahili (about how ridiculous we are, I am sure).  So, the jury is still out.

 3. I have gone completely overboard

One of today’s lectures was on the topic of human resources and leadership – during the lecture the professor was speaking about the difficulties that women leaders face in the workplace.  She told the class that women leaders must stand up for themselves although they do not need to go “overboard” and become feminists.  By this description I might just be in the deepest depths of the ocean.  I will give her the benefit of the doubt however because later in her lecture she was talking about how leaders tend to lose some of their leadership capabilities as they age – she then turned to one of our UCLA professors (who is male) and said, “you probably know all about this professor, you are pushing menopause aren’t you?”  Hilarious.

4. We are not in Los Angeles anymore Toto

The people that we are working with as a part of this program are nothing short of amazing.  They are smart, talented and passionate people that have really astounded me.   Some of their stories are simply unbelievable and I feel as though I am living in a CNN report.   Today, one of the women in my group told me about some AIDS/HIV infected people must travel across a river in order to get treatment – there are no bridges across the river.  She showed me an amazing picture of people wading though the water with bicycles to get to the clinic.  Yesterday, a man told me about women who become infected with HIV/AIDS because they sleep with fishermen in order to get fish to feed their starving families.  I compare my problems and hardships to theirs and I feel ashamed of even considering them problems.  I am so thankful for all that I have in my life and I hope that this trip has taught me to never take any of it for granted.

More tomorrow.

A coffee drinking, treadmill running, paranoid American, clearly not on her honeymoon

1.  Doctors make me paranoid

I have always felt like I was a somewhat adventurous traveler – willing to try new things and experiences. This trip my “toughness” has been tested  - one of my traveling companions is a fellow MBA student who is simultaneously getting her MD (aka crazy).  She clearly knows too much based on her medical studies and her traveling habits have made me nervous about almost everything...

• She proclaimed that I should not be washing my face with the tap water because it might get into my eyes.  She brought 12 huge bottles of water from the US for the sole purpose of washing her face and brushing her teeth.  My eyes have felt dry and itchy all day.
• Water got on her lips during a shower and she immediately doused them with hand sanitizer – I thought this was silly but I must confess that when a little water got in my mouth during my shower this morning I jumped out and gargled with Listerine.
•  Last night at dinner I had a glass of passion juice with my meal, when I told her this I thought she might fall on the floor.  Apparently I am not supposed to have any fruit, including juice.  My stomach felt uneasy most of the night.
• Today was the first day that we have actually seen mosquitoes flying around.  Despite the fact that I have been taking malaria pills and I have no bites (yet), I have been strangely itchy all day (and so has she).
• Bottles for beer and soda are reused here in Kenya – I had no idea until last night.  Today, I used a straw to drink my bottled Coca Cola.

I pride myself on being very self-aware and I know that I am just being a paranoid American – so far my health is fine.  Hopefully this paranoia will go away soon because the irrationality of it all disappoints me.

 2.  I am no coffee snob

I was quite pleased to see two 30-minute tea breaks on the agenda each day but as an avid coffee drinker, I was hopeful that there might also be a coffee option.  What I have found is instant, powdered coffee.  Delicious, it is not, but it seems to do the trick.  I’ll take it.

On the topic of coffee, what is somewhat puzzling is that the Kenyans seem to associate coffee with all things Latin.  The instant coffee today was called “Mexicana” although it was manufactured in Kenya.  The coffee shop at the hotel is called “Amigo Coffee Shop.”  Seeing as how coffee is grown throughout Africa, I don’t get it.

3. Exercising is silly

Yesterday, I was running on the treadmill in the gym at our hotel.  The security guard came in at one point and watched me for a little while, looking quite amused.  While driving to our training site today his amusement seemed somehow appropriate as we got our first real look at Nairobi.  In route, we drove by hundreds of pedestrians who were making their way to work. Our Africa-experienced colleague informed us that many of them wake up as early as 4am to begin their walking commute into the city for work.  After hearing this, a 30-minute run on the treadmill seems pretty silly to me too.

4.  You can call me a crime against nature

In each room at the Olive Gardens hotel there is a “Guest Guide” (printed on a bubble jet color printer and glued together).  At the bottom of the “Guidelines” section there is a statement that proclaims, “People of the same sex are not allowed to share rooms with one bed.”  One of my colleagues shared with me that, in fact, homosexuality is outlawed in Kenya and upon further investigation I discovered that it is regarded as a “crime against nature.”  This fact was not altogether surprising but finding such a statement in the hotel literature was a little shocking.  I guess there aren’t many people taking a big gay honeymoon to Kenya - although I cannot say I would recommend the Olive Gardens to honeymooners of any sexuality.  I think I will be keeping my lesbian card in my pocket for the next couple weeks.

More tomorrow.

Conclusions from the first 48 hours

So I am just over 48 hours into my trip to Africa (24 hours traveling and 24 hours in Kenya). I have compiled a few of my conclusions thus far.

1. Having frequent flyer “status” is akin to being a rockstar

It has been over a year since I left Deloitte but I still have “Premier Executive” status on United Airlines through the end of the year (a small token of a miserable 6 months of flying between California and Pennsylvania). This status enabled my colleague and me to upgrade to more legroom during our 10-hour flight from LAX to London. Working my status made me feel fancy (no, it does not take much).

2. Children should never fly alone on international flights

… or at least not those that I am also on. My rockstar status evaporated once we arrived in London and had to transfer to Kenya Airways for the next leg of our journey. Three unaccompanied minors were seated behind me and after only an hour of giggling, fighting and nonstop seat kicking I found myself asking  “who sends their child to Kenya alone?” The next seven hours were some of the more miserable in recent memory – not even pain pills and wine helped to make it more bearable.

3. I love Tusker

After over 24 hours of traveling, we had a short list of priorities when we finally landed in Nairobi, drinking being the first on the list. Upon arrival at our hotel we set our bags down and headed straight to the downstairs bar. We ordered the local lager, Tusker, and I must say I approve, not only of the taste but the giant bottles it is served in.

4. I also love the internet

Our hotel in Nairobi is called “Olive Gardens” despite the fact that it has no gardens or all-you-can-eat meals of soup, salad and breadsticks. It is not fancy (nicknamed “Hotel 6 – Nairobi” by one of my colleagues) but is kind of cute and does have most of the necessary modern conveniences including wireless Internet. After fulfilling our first priority of beer, I returned to my room and worked on my next set of priorities. First, I connected to what is likely the slowest high-speed Internet connection known to man. Despite this speed, my love for the Internet holds strong. I was able to call my girlfriend for free via Skype. The delay was a little ridiculous, but hearing her voice from thousands of miles away was quite amazing. Next, I called my mom– being a little less savvy about the delay, she hung up on me. I emailed her instead. Thanks to Al Gore and his Internets, my mother knows I am safe.

5. Lady Gaga and Beyonce rule the world

The familiar voice of Lady Gaga was somewhat soothing as I rode on the shuttle bus between terminals at the London airport. I felt as though Lady Gaga was my traveling companion, with me almost everywhere I go.

Lady Gaga in London did not seem that out of the ordinary, but waking up in Nairobi to Beyonce and her “Single Ladies” was strange but yet, again quite comforting.

6. I am really white

I know what you are thinking. Yes, I already knew I was VERY white before arriving in Africa but from time to time I forget. I was reminded while walking through Nairobi this afternoon (with two other white girls and a black girl who is quite the snappy dresser). Total show stoppers.

More tomorrow.

Much too old for a fake ID

After I started my job with Deloitte in 2004 I found I had very little time to take care of any personal business but somehow I managed to find one morning where I would have enough time to get a California Driver's License.  Early that morning, I rolled out of bed, threw a t-shirt on and raced to the DMV in hopes of missing the crowds.  I barely passed the written test (who knew that you had to take a written test), took my photo, and waited two weeks for my new license to arrive.  When it finally came, I regretted not taking the time to at least comb my hair before rushing off that morning.

I insist that I have never smoked pot - despite what it may look like in this picture.  And yes, I am gay, but I am not the "frightening butch" that this lovely image makes me out to be.  So, the picture was "not cute" but at least, at the time, it somewhat resembled me and I was not questioned when proving my age or identity.  But over the past several years, my physical appearance has slowly changed and the licence has become quite the problem, especially recently.  I get funny looks when using it at bars, and have even had to show secondary proof of identification a few times.  People have accused me of using a fake ID and on one occurrence, accused me of using my "old, fat mother in-laws license" (where the bouncer came up with this I am not sure but I found it simultaneously hilarious and insulting).    Newer friends (and girlfriends) have found this old ID highly entertaining, studying it for several minutes in disbelief.  

Deciding that I am much too old for a fake ID, I resolved it was time to pay the $22, brave the lines and get a new photo taken.   This time I took a shower, did my hair and makeup. I came to the realization that the photo on my ID is probably seen by more people than any other picture and I should put at least a little effort into it.  The new ID arrived in the mail yesterday, and I must say I am rather pleased with it.  It is a good picture as far as ID pictures go.

I presented both the new and old IDs to a group of friends last night because I was told that it would be a fun "stupid human trick."  One stated "you got hot" - yeah well, I guess I did.  Go me.

Out of Africa

About a week and a half ago I finished the first part of what has turned out to be a simply amazing summer internship.   I am a teaching associate for the Johnson and Johnson/UCLA Anderson Executive Management programs.  During the first six weeks of my internship I worked at UCLA Anderson with executives and managers from Community Health and Head Start organizations around the United States. My job was to teach and assist these professionals as they progressed through two-week intensive management programs but in the end, I feel that the participants gave much more to me than I did to them.  I have been inspired by their incredible passion for what they do and the populations they serve.  

The second part of my internship has the potential to be even more incredible than the first.  Next Friday, I will be traveling to Africa to assist as a teaching associate in the Management Development Institute, also an intensive management program sponsored by Johnson and Johnson, focusing on executives and mangers from HIV/AIDS organizations throughout Africa.  We will be spending one week each, in Nairobi, Kenya and Accra, Ghana. 

In the United States we have become somewhat blind to the HIV/AIDS pandemic as prevention improves and those infected are living longer.  Despite great progress in the U.S., the threat of this disease is all but over.  The number of people living with HIV/AIDS worldwide continues to rise steadily each and every year.  In sub-Saharan Africa there are over 22 million people living with HIV/AIDS, accounting for more than 5% of the total population.  Every second, 3 people die in Africa due to HIV/AIDS which as left over 11 million HIV/AIDS orphans. Africa is “ground-zero” for the  pandemic and I am both proud and excited to have the opportunity to assist the people and organizations that are working to fight both the disease its social and economic impacts.   Providing that there is time (and a reliable internet connection) I hope to document some of the insights from my trip here – get excited (I know I am).

My One and Only Visit to the Principal's Office

Recently I was reminded of the day that forever tarnished my record as a “good kid.”  It was the last day of 6^th grade and I was overjoyed that I would be leaving Arroyo Verde Elementary School for the much bigger and more important world that awaited me in the halls of Cope Middle School.  The morning progressed as expected, with various end of the year games and fun activities. Suddenly, a messenger entered the classroom with a note summoning me to the office of Mrs. Carol Purvine, Principal. 

As I made my way toward her office I was sure that I had won some type of award that she wanted to give me personally – there was no way I would be in trouble on the last day of school!  I waited outside her office for a short time, somewhat giddy with excitement.  When the door finally opened the look on her face immediately made it clear that there would be no awards.  She invited me to take a seat and closed the door.  Horrified, I sank into the chair across from her desk. 

She asked me “do you know why you are here?”  The tears started to well up in my eyes, as I quietly whispered “no.”  She said, “I have received a report from Jennifer R’s mother“ (last name has been omitted to protect the innocent – although highly obnoxious and slightly disgusting).  Upon hearing this name I flashed back to a couple days before when I had called Jennifer, among other things, a lesbian.  My stomach churned and I began to squirm in my seat.

I was speechless as she continued, “do you know what the word lesbian means?”  I shook my head (I am pretty sure I knew what it meant at the time but I was not about to say it out load and certainly not to the Principal).  She proceeded to tell me what the word meant and that I should not be calling my classmates this word because it was very hurtful.  She mentioned she was surprised that I would be using such language because I had always been a good student.  She made me promise to never to use the word again.  She also told me that she would not pass the information onto my parents so as long as I agreed to apologize to Jennifer.  She gave me a hug as I agreed to adhere to her requests (I doubt that most visits to the Principal’s office end in a hug but I guess I was probably pretty pathetic and slightly adorable in that moment).  I was somewhat relieved as I left her office, but suddenly the tears were uncontrollable, they filled my (highly fashionable) glasses and I had to go to the bathroom to calm down before returning to the fun and games that awaited me in my classroom.

I don’t really remember anything else that day except for a lot of tears – I could not believe that Jessica Bonham actually ended up in the Principal’s office to be reprimanded – unthinkable!  Now I find the events of that day to highly ironic and absolutely hilarious for obvious reasons.  I hope you do too.