Vicarious Nomad

Comeback Kid

2012-01-02T21:48:00.004-05:00

Welcome 2012. It's been awhile. Clearly from my sudden and prolonged silence through the last past of 2011, it was a bit of a duzzy of a year. After the death of my father and diagnosis of melanoma, I managed through six surgeries in nine locations, as well as other personal hiccups along the way. Not an easy one to say the least.

As I moved further through the year, I began to think of Comeback Kid, by Bret Dennen as my theme song. After being the one crying on the bathroom floor, it felt suiting. Now it feels even more meaningful, in that I really do feel that I've come back better and brighter than before. It feels good. There's nothing like adversity to make me come back feel very fortunate for all that I am blessed with in my life. Looking forward to a great year to come.

In a bit of a recap, aside from the brutal highlights, this often wandering nomad has been holding steady in our lovely new historic penthouse in the heart of Washington, DC. I'll share pictures this week so you know what lures this traveling gal to stick around for a bit longer than usual. I'll likely be back on the road sometime in spring. I know, not my traditional winter survival plan. I should be leaving right now in that case, it's finally become winter around here! I look forward to the road when it beckons, but I'm happy as can be to enjoy home for the moment.

In tribute to 2011, I'll also share my favorite song to honor the year, Dancing at a Funeral, also by Bret Dennen.

Happy New Year to all!

Amen, Omen

2011-06-18T23:33:00.002-04:00

What started as a whisper slowly turned into a scream. Searching for an answer where the question is unseen.

Amen, Omen is one of my favorite Ben Harper songs. It speaks to me of how someone becomes a part of you. How all of us are mortal and how we must face this as part of the process of actually living.

Managing my life over the last six weeks makes "The Arab Spring" come to mind, in that it has been so monumental in terms of change, that it needs no less of a distinction to the power of change and challenges.

I learned yesterday that I have cancer. Another mole, removed last week, came back again as melanoma, but this time with cancer. My last day of being the sweet young age of 33, and I learn I have cancer. Not exactly what you are expecting for a Birthday surprise.

I'll be having another surgery next week, to remove the cancer that has been identified, and remove my trademark birthmark and all other freckles that might be of any possible risk. Needless to say, I'm not looking forward to going through another surgery alone, but I also feel extremely lucky.

I've always been on top of my skin's risk, but this was caught very early on. Had it been last year at this time, I would have been trekking around Congo and risking a great deal more than encounters with rebels.

I know my adventures as of late have been far from exotic, but I also feel it is important to share. To remind people to take care in the sun and take care to get checked regularly.

Miel

Forced Slow Down

2011-06-07T22:27:00.002-04:00

There are times when life throw you stuff. Then it often throw more stuff at you. That's how it goes. Life's little challenger course, so to speak.

With the recent death of my father, I've had plenty of time grieving, and yet at the same time I've kept up my normal pace of life. Jumping right back in mid-stream. With two west coast trips in less than a month, much of my down time has oddly been spent on planes across the country. After superwoman like capabilities of dealing with everything that there was to handle in Eugene, both physically and emotionally, I came back to a slight nose dive back into the realities of my life in DC. Then I picked right back up and kept running.

So it turns out that I needed a bit more of a break that that. The Universe is sending its message clearly, slow your jets down, as my mom would say.

I was given a call back about a mole that was removed, ironically on the day I learned of my father's death. It turned out to be as suspicious as we thought, melanoma creeping up in the form of an otherwise cute freckle on my thigh. Had I not been aware of the dangers, with my fair and freckled skin, it could have been drastically worse. I've been consistent with dermatologist check ups, even when I haven't bothered to get a primary doctor in the last ten years. Having recently had my annual skin check, I was lucky that I had to go in for a repeat biopsy on another mole and pointed out this little guy. Had I waited until my next annual appointment, I would have had full blown cancer.

So I feel thankful for being on top of changes in my body, and having noted the tiny, otherwise seemingly friendly mole that had recently appeared.

Even this wasn't really enough to slow me down. At first I thought it was just going to be a quick re-biopsy and a few stitches. I even planned it for just before heading to California for Memorial Day. I figured I could plan on hiking a bit slower this year.

This, of course, turned out to be full on surgery instead. I went and had the operation on Friday, and have been in a bit of a post-surgery fog since then. I'm reminded of the importance of friends, family, and neighbors, and how important it is to cultivate these relationships. They are particularly helpful when you need them, and are noticeably missing when they are needed and aren't nearby.

Tomorrow I head out into the big wide world and will have to remind myself with each step to take it at least at half time walking. My standard pace around the city is ridiculously fast. According to one walking website, my pace far exceeded their "very speedy walker" category.

Today I walked past an older gentleman who was walking about my same, now reduced, pace. I was reminded of how fortunate I am that I'm normally so mobile.

So as I head out into the world, it will be with a renewed appreciation for what I have and for the health that I've fostered. I find it ironic that sometimes the most appreciation comes from the worst of events. I guess it just goes to show what we should be thankful for, even when life throws us stuff.

Miel

Respect our Roots

2011-06-05T20:23:00.001-04:00

Written on my cross-country journey, from Oregon back to Washington, DC, I reflected on my journey home to celebrate my father Wally.

I am blessed by an extra ordinary life. Most often I live my life with intention, but perhaps not with the daily reminder that I am blessed. Perhaps it takes unexpected loss to realize this. Even more so, perhaps it takes returning to a community of incredible love.

The loss of my father has been nothing less than grueling. Unstoppable sorrow. Facing the realities of death. The finite nature of everything. That stuff is just stuff. It is the people that really matter. Stamina alone keeps us going. If you stop too long to think about it, you would just melt.

Then the never ending questions about what to do with one’s life surface through the cracks, in days that feel like weeks. The meaning of it all. Where will we end up in this great big world. What is my mission in life. How does one gather the courage to go out on a limb. I’ve done so, time and time again, in my journeys throughout the world, and yet this time it feels so much bigger. Like my life up until this point has been a rehearsal, preparing me for so much more to come.

Going back to my roots has been an incredible experience, mostly beyond description. To see faces from decades past, and reflect on how I’ve been shaped by this community. I’ve come a long ways, but I still know where my roots are. I grew up as a hippie child, or a child of the hippie era. While it was a revolution that swept North America, those of us who were raised as true hippie children are actually very few in number. We blend into the mix these days, but we know where we come from. We question whether we’ve sold out to a yippie lifestyle, but we still know who we are at heart. My days of tie-dye dresses may be past but my time spent wandering the tomato patches of my youth will never leave me.

Going home also reminds me of how far I’ve come. Normally I go through my life just as it is, often forgetting indeed how special my life actually is. I try not to take it for granted, but I realize how normative my life has become for me. When I talk with others about what I do out in the great big world, I see my life through another lense. It helps to keep things in perspective.

Wally was often that perspective for me. Sharing with him my latest adventures, he always having a story or opinion to share in response. Each of us growing from the other. Now I’m left with a myriad of feelings, but appreciation always surfaces to the top.

Thanks for being the father that you were Wally.

Miel

Wally Jones Passing On

2011-05-09T16:12:00.005-04:00

Nothing can prepare one to loss of a parent. I learned my father died late on Thursday night and have been dealing with the grief and moving on since then. My father, Wally Pierce Jones, was one of my biggest fans and influenced me greatly to be the wandering nomad that I have become. His death will undoubtedly also alter the course of my life and shape me in ways I don't yet know.

Eugene has lost one of its most notable Elders. Wally Jones died at home and was found on May 5 in his bed, appearing to have died peacefully after some recent history of heart trouble.

He was born in Grants Pass to Ellis and Barbara Jones on December 7, 1945. He spent most of his life in Eugene, graduating from Sheldon High School in 1963. He attended the U of O for two years. Wally was one of the first members of the Hoedads Treeplanting Cooperative, and worked with them till its end in 1994. He served as its president in the 80's and in Hoedads' final years.

Wally had a passion for skiing and sailing. He spent a lot of time at Mt. Bachelor and other ski areas, often earning his way teaching others to ski. He owned a sailboat, a Lightning, and when he wasn't painstakingly working on it, he sailed it on Fern Ridge for years, where he was a member of the Eugene Yacht Club. He also was a skilled guitarist and strong singer, and had an unusual ability to remember words of myriad songs. He was a consummate story teller and a master of jokes.

He was involved with the Oregon Country Fair from its early days, and was a charter member, serving on various crews before settling on the Recycling Crew in 1986, which he stayed on till he became semi-retired as an Elder. He also got involved on the Path Planning Committee and was found tromping around at the fair site early on in the season and brainstorming on possibilities.

Wally is survived by two twin daughters, Darcy and Miel, who have spent a lot of time in Security. Darcy Cronin and her kids spent last Country Fair with Wally. Miel Hendrickson will be at this year's fair, which she had hoped to spend with her father as his SOP. He was partnered for many years with Karen Stingle, who continued to be his friend, neighbor, family, and "best
ex."

Above all, Wally was a people person. He was our historian, having participated in so much of our community's growth. He had an uncanny memory for events, people, places, and the dynamics underpinning it all. We relied on him to keep the stories straight.

Friends and family: Wally's Wake tonight @ Sam Bond's 6 p.m.

Come celebrate his life, share stories, and reunite at his favorite watering hole.

Timelapse Flight

2011-04-29T08:30:00.000-04:00

I'm headed the opposite way around the world today, but figured this was pretty cool to share with folks. Well worth the two minutes!

SF to Paris in Two Minutes from Beep Show on Vimeo.

Safe travels,

Miel

Royal Wedding Crashing

2011-04-29T03:35:00.002-04:00

By total chance, I have ended up in London en route back to DC from Kenya on the big day of the royal wedding. I knew it was a bank holiday from my colleagues who I met with yesterday, but I didn't realize until last weekend that I'd be here on the big day. I'm headed out now for the excitement, so I won't be long here. Yesterday afternoon we walk through all of the areas where the wedding will take place, with the flags flying aplenty. Very exciting.

Enjoy!

Miel

Owen & Mzee

2011-04-18T05:32:00.002-04:00

So my nephew introduced me to the a wonderful story about a turtle and a hippo becoming friends. When I picked this book up at the holidays, one evening at bed time, I was excited to see that the turtle and the hippo were from Kenya!

Their names are Owen and Mzee, Mzee meaning old in Swahili. Owen was an orphaned pygmy hippo that was orphaned and stranded after the tsumani in the Indian Ocean. Community members helped to rescue him and take him to Haller Park in Mombaba. They placed him with Mzee, a 130 year old turtle, and they became unlikely friends. They bounded strongly and Owen followed Mzee wherever he went.

Of course visiting the park was high on my list of recreational activities while in Kenya. The park was great, and I'll share more photos tomorrow of the rest of the animals.

This isn't the real Mzee, but he'll do. He was actually trucking along faster than you'd think!

Here is the real Owen today, on the left. He is now living with Penelope, another orphaned hippo that they hope will mate.

It's a tough life being a hippo!

You looking at me?

Enjoy!

Miel

Relaxing in Mombasa

2011-04-17T07:28:00.005-04:00

Kenya's coastline, with white sand beaches extending into the Indian Ocean, is hard to beat.
There is nothing quite like a nice walk on the beach!
Here is a rhino sand sculpture that was made by a disabled guy on the beach. Much easier to support than asking for handouts. The next day it was a hippo, very innovative!
One of several pool at White Sands Sarova in Mombasa. We managed to get in on a great session of water aerobics, and one of the other pools had a water slide that shot you out like a bullet. Fun times!
Can you tell how much I like camels?
Great view from atop a camel! My husband is now visiting from Afghanistan and we'll be headed back to Mombasa, likely to the South coast. Looking forward to it.

Cheers,

Miel

Somaliland

2011-04-16T09:59:00.002-04:00

In the past several months of travel, one of the coolest places I've visited was just outside of Hargeisa, Somaliland. We have a food security project where we have piloted 600 household grain storage silos. They are one ton in capacity and are an excellent first step in creating a more food secure environment in Somaliland.
Traditionally grain is stored in underground pits in Somaliland. As you can see, the opening is small, but underneath it holds up to 25 tons of grain. Due to the size, children are the only ones who can crawl inside to retrieve the grain. Grain goes straight into the dirt, causing some immediate spoilage, and then there are rains, rats, and snakes to contribute to further losses.
The household silos have been very well received by families and the Ministry of Agriculture alike. We've worked with local artisans to train them to produce the silos locally, working to build skills and create a new market for the silos.
Traditional methods of grain storage are prone to aflatoxins that render the grain carcinogenic and unfit for consumption by humans and livestock alike.
These are the typical homes in rural areas of Somaliland. As you can see, it is a patchwork of whatever materials can be found. There are typically different dwellings for sleeping, cooking, etc.
This mama was very supportive of the silos, and wants more of them. When I asked about the possibility of sharing silos within a community, she was clear that she had no interest in sharing.
The silos remain amazingly cool for the temperature in Somaliland. From the ones I saw, that keep them under the shade of trees, or create shade by straw or other means.
Laid out is a traditional wedding cloth that they wanted to share with me. People were incredibly open and supportive. Days like this are when I'm so amazed with the work that I'm so very fortunate to do. Not only do I get to support these communities, but they in turn open their communities as well. What an incredible experience.

Cheers,

Miel

Snippets of Travel in East Africa

2011-04-14T04:47:00.002-04:00

Once again I've fallen into the delinquent trap of being so busy with various adventures in coming and going that I haven't kept along with myself. It's really be an incredible couple of months. Just after Zanzibar I head straight to Somaliland, quite the contrast. From there, back to Nairobi, then traveling throughout Kenya, on to Ethiopia for a couple of weeks - including feeding hyenas in Harar and touring ancient churches in Lalibela, and now back in Nairobi. With a good internet connection, I should at least be able to provide a visual tour of my adventures along the way.

Here are a few highlights of what is to come:

Visiting nomadic villages in Somaliland.

Camel ride on the beach in Mombasa.

Chilling out between travels.

Feeding wild hyenas in Harar, Ethiopia (yes, it deserves and will get a more full explanation!)

Visiting ancient stone carved churches in Lalibela, Ethiopia.

Plus, much, much more. Stay tuned!

Karibu,

Miel

Achieving Buoyancy

2011-03-06T03:05:00.000-05:00

In our often hectic lives, balance is something that is always being touted as the key to achieving maximum success and happiness. Perhaps we are missing the real wonder of buoyancy, rather than mere balance. I’ve recently discovered this, in learning to dive, and will never be the same.

In our lives, we are restricted by a multitude of constraints, gravity included.

Achieving buoyancy under water is like floating in inner space, traveling to another world. There is nothing like it. While buoyancy on land has certain limitations, back to gravity again, it is possible to achieve buoyancy every day in our lives, by letting go, letting things be, going with the flow.

What I didn’t realize, before trying it myself, if that diving is like underwater yoga. The number one lesson is to always breath, and never hold your breath. It is essential to breath slowly and deeply. As you drift along, you literally follow your breath. Rather than moving with your breath, as in yoga, your breath moves you – literally. This is something I’ve done in reverse through yoga, but it takes on a whole new dimension under water.

There are many lessons to learn in diving. My journey has just begun. I’m looking forward to many more adventures in exploring new depths of this world, and myself.

Namaste,

Miel

Akuna Matata – Zanzibar Style

2011-03-02T06:28:00.000-05:00

A week in Zanzibar is just enough to leave me feeling slightly like jello; in a good way. Everything is easy going. No mind that you’ve got competing music from the assortment of bars on the beachside, as the sound of the waves drowns out all. Wishing my internet connection was working, but figure that it is what it is. Akuna matata. (No worries)

It’s just enough time to remind me how essential real vacations are. I know I’m luckier than most, in that my work may seem like a holiday. Yet while it is certainly a never ending adventure, my travels are most often anything but leisurely. On this trip I’m reminded a bit of what it was like to be a backpacker a dozen years ago, but happy to have more of a budget to work with.

Traveling alone means meeting all sorts of people, from all of the world, coming and going from various adventures. Honeymooners from my neighborhood in DC; Swiss dive buddy living in Nairobi; fabulous South African Dive Instructor with a Finnish fiance; a couple of young Canadians doing Capetown to Cairo; a guy from Ashland, Oregon; a young Canadian hedge fund broker working in Kuwait; a seven year old Italian who is destined for Olympic volleyball; and many more.

Now back to work. Next I'll share my adventures in Somaliland.

Cheers,

Miel

Diving into the Blue of Zanzibar

2011-03-01T06:59:00.003-05:00

It only makes sense that diving was my next avenue for exploration. I didn’t come to Zanzibar with the intention of learning to dive; I really didn’t have many plans to begin with. Yesterday I completed my Open Water Diving Certificate and couldn’t stop with that. After another two adventure dives today (working on deep water and navigation skills), I’ll be completing another three tomorrow to finish off my Advanced Open Water Certificate.

I couldn’t be happier with my choice to become a diver. I feel this shift in how I look at the opportunities that present themselves in life. It’s like putting on a new pair of shades, where all I can think of is where I will dive over my lifetime. I’ve already covered considerable ground in the real sense of geographical exploration, but diving opens up a great deal more of this incredible planet of ours.

I was already very fortunate enough to have spend significant time on reefs, doing two courses in marine biology on the Great Barrier Reef, as well as a time in Fiji explore the surface, but diving really does allow you to reach more depths than ever before.

I was fortunate enough to have a fabulous dive buddy as well as instructor!

My last day of my Advanced Open Water was incredible. Mastering buoyancy and achieving the fabulous upside down underwater Buddha. Try that in yoga!

Miel

Day Two in Zanzibar

2011-02-28T06:32:00.001-05:00

I wake up refreshed after a good night’s sleep. Basic breakfast at the hotel, and then off to explore Stone Town. This is the old city of Zanzibar, looking very much like it sounds, with small winding alleyways. You can’t worry about getting lost. It’s best just to wander and know that eventually you’ll find your way back to where you started.

I find a nice rooftop bar (see pictures from last post) and enjoy a lovely cup of spiced tea as the city continues to wake up, and read my book. I’ve managed to bring along a book that I can’t put down, but of course will be done by tomorrow – if not tonight. Luckily I have one other, as well as a final reserve back in Nairobi. We’ll see if that lasts me for the next five weeks; I’m somehow doubtful.

I stumble into the market, with spices galore, mangoes aplenty, and the requisite meat being butchered up. Markets in Africa aren’t for the squeamish or weak stomached. I resist buying any spices for the moment, but certainly have them on my list before I leave. The cinnamon bark is found in thick curly chunks. Cloves, cardamom, fresh vanilla beans, saffron, curries, masala, and more. I hear the spice tour is nice, so I’ll be headed there sometime during my trip.

Stone Town is known for its small alleyways and incredible architecture.

Zanzibar is known for its mixture of African and Arabic cultures, but as you can see, the various influences abound.

I find a nice café in the afternoon, drink a delicious vanilla latte, and continue to read my book.

I later make my way to a beach side bar that is supposed to have wifi. After only a couple of minutes of skype chatting with my husband it goes out. I suppose it is better than nothing. In the mean time I watch as boys jump off the pier and frolic in the warm ocean water. I wonder how the girls refresh in the humid heat.

Zanzibar is known for its unique doorways as well as being the spice island.

Massive cinnamon sticks, anise, cardamon, fresh vanilla beans, saffron and so much more abounds.

A ferry barge arrives and pulls itself up the beach. Men carry boxes back and forth like worker bees coming to a fro from the hive. They make short order of several large truck loads of cargo.

On the other side of the beach, young men practice backflips in the sand. I’m still waiting for African gymnasts to take over the Olympics. Give these guys any equipment and I have every confidence that we’d have some gold medalists in the mix.

Now it’s 7:20 on a Saturday night. I missed that tonight would be the full moon festivals up on the coast, or I would have headed out of town for those. Now to see if I end up meeting any fellow tourists, or where my night takes me. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach is lovely.

I managed to find a crew on their tale end of adventures climbing Kilimanjaro and doing Safari in Kenya/Tanzania. A nice German couple, a Swiss gal, and a Canadian guy. Good times.

Miel

Zanzibar Next Stop!

2011-02-27T08:12:00.002-05:00

Off to Zanzibar! Well, actually now leaving Zanzibar, but the internet was not working in my favor to post in advance, so we'll have some delayed postings on Zanzibar while I'll actually be in Somalia. Then I'll post on Somalia while I'm back in Nairobi. What a sorted life I live!

After an incredibly packed week of meetings in Nairobi, it takes me until 2am to finish up my work and be ready to take a week of leave – with still a number of things to follow up on while I’m in Zanzibar. Still worth the sacrifice. Of course I am then plagued by the dreaded mosquito in my ear. Just when I terminate one, thinking peaceful rest will soon be on its way, the next come buzzing around. If you’ve ever been in such a situation, you know that the only real method is to wait for the mozzy to buzz close enough to your ear, and then smack yourself upside the head. Needless to say, not a restful couple of hours of sleep.

So next I’m up at 4:30 to catch a taxi at 5:30 and a plane to Zanzibar at 8:15. Or so I think. Little do I know, that I’m actually destined to not only Kilimanjaro en route, but also Dar es Salaam. The first plane is so short it feels like spelunking as you make your way toward the back of the plane. The second is no better, approximately the size of a minivan, but luckily not as many people as a Matatu. I’m so incredibly exhausted that I fall into a deep sleep on the flight. I find myself dreaming of a plane crash, spiraling closer and closer to the ground, seeing the end is near. Of course I wake up to the plane jerking like a bucking bronco. Apparently death is not near, so I fall back asleep.

When I finally reach Zanzibar’s Stone Town - after six hours en route – I find a mediocre hotel, insert my trusty earplugs, and sleep blissfully for the next five hours.

I awake to explore the city.

Miel

Back on the Road

2011-02-13T13:57:00.007-05:00

Returning from my recent hiatus in the states, with three weeks back with family in Oregon and five weeks in DC (the longest I've been there in more than a year!), I'm now back on the road. I landed in Nairobi last night and have enjoyed a mellow start to my six week trip.

Rains came unexpectedly this afternoon and still patter away outside my window. I enjoyed a luscious mango as dessert this evening that was a nice welcome back to Africa. Currently in Kenya, I'll be leaving this weekend for a week of vacation in Lamu (an island off the coast of Kenya) and Zanzibar (a larger island off the coast of Tanzania); then a week in Somaliland (the northern part of Somalia); next a week of leading a regional conference in Nairobi; a week of field visits doing monitoring in Kenya; the next two weeks doing the same in Ethiopia; then back through Kenya and a day at our London office before heading back to Washington just in time for the peak of cheery blossoms.Needless to say, I'm looking forward to sharing the journey with you and posting regularly throughout my journey. I'll try to post a more detailed map once I know all of the field sites I'm headed to, but google maps often doesn't even register the remote places I go to.

Cheers,

Miel

Best Vacations Ever

2010-12-09T07:40:00.000-05:00

One of the fun activities was doing a canopy zip tour, with Sky Trek. This was well worth the price, $60 in Victoria Falls would have bought me one zip line, whereas this one was nine sections long. It gave you time to get into it and experience it more that just one time across.On one of the first runs we also saw a Tragon, cousin of the Quetzal.

Flying high!Coming in for a landing.

Out on a limb, so to speak.
After we were done, we ended up with a dead battery. We loved the billboard behind us, saying, "Welcome to your best vacations ever" Fortunately, the story of my life. The good and the mishaps, you've got to love them both.
And this little guys face shows how much fun we had.

Cheers,

Miel

Santa Elena Reserve, Monteverde, Costa Rica

2010-12-08T07:56:00.000-05:00

A true highlight of the trip was a walk through the beautiful cloud forest. I really love forests throughout the world. I'll let the pictures of the Santa Elena Reserve in Monteverde, Costa Rica speak for themselves.
This plant changes to orange just when it needs to have its seeds spread. Got to love nature.

I heart James!

Finally found a frog! Not a fabulous blue jean frog, but it felt like a victory.

Cheers,

Miel

Forest Train Ride Monteverde, Costa Rica

2010-12-07T07:35:00.001-05:00

The Forest Train Ride in Monteverde, Costa Rica is bound to be a favorite for kids, and for that matter adults, that are able to take the tour. It is a half sized diesel train that takes you through the cloud forest.
It is a great opportunity to check out the forest in a whole new way. Great for all ages.
A very fun treat!

At the end of the line the train turns around to go the other direction, very cool. They also provide a nice coffee and cake, as well as a short walk around the forest when the train heads back.

Whistle!

Miel

El Trapiche Tour

2010-12-06T07:16:00.001-05:00

My dear friend Sarah Joy and her partner Julio run a tour organization, Boyero Tours, that focuses on eco and rural tourism. They focus a great deal on youth exchange and volunteer travel, but also are able to set up personalized tours to take the hassle out of travel and make sure that you get the experience you are looking for.

One of the bonuses on our trip was that we were able to get free lodging and tours to test them out. Luckily all of them could be vouched for fully.
This is a path on the grounds of the Cloud Forest Lodge, beautiful nestled into a large forest just at the edge of Monteverde, Costa Rica. The room was very comfortable, lodge feeling with high ceilings, a king bed, twin and then bunk bed. I think my favorite part of the room was the really nice hot shower. The breakfast was what set the Cloud Forest Lodge apart, literally one of the best breakfasts I've had at all the hotels I've stayed in the world. A perfect way to start the day.
This was one of the many birds we spotted, though not all are easy to get a shot of. This is a cousin of the kingfisher.
As most folks know, Costa Rica is famous for its coffee. One of the tours we took was El Trapiche, teaching about agriculture including coffee, bananas, and sugar cane.
We did the tour with another family from California and it was definitely a good tour to take with kids, though I guarantee adults to learn a great deal as well.
El Trapiche is the traditional machine that presses sugar cane by ox power. It was a family owned and run tour and had an excellent and informative guide. The machine is about 150 years old, and was brought to its current location about fifty years ago, it took two weeks to bring it in from the cost.Costa Rica has plenty of beautiful hydrangeas.

This is a hand painted ox cart wheel, which Boyero Tours is named after.
There motifs on the carts are pretty cool.
At the end of the tour you also enjoy freshly made sugarcane candies, as well as coffee and a wonderful specialty that is served at weddings in Costa Rica.

Very well worth it!

Miel

Thanksgiving in Costa Rica

2010-12-05T17:56:00.003-05:00

Thanksgiving abroad often shows little resemblance to the typical American holiday of cooking all day and enjoying some of those classic treats like pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce.

My first Thanksgiving overseas was actually spent at McDonald's. The family I was with in Finland thought this would be a special treat. I didn't have the heart to tell them that I boycotted the place for years.
I also spent Thanksgiving in Macedonia, a bit nostalgic not to be spending my first Thanksgiving married not to be with my husband, but otherwise enjoying a nice little spot near a fire place with a pouched pear dessert.
This year, since again I wasn't able to be with my husband, I opted to visit my dear friend Sarah Joy and her family in Costa Rica. She's lived there for the last six years, and her son is nearly two years old, so I figured it was time to get myself down there for the visit.

We enjoyed a full scale Thanksgiving with all the others American and company that could be rustled up. Sarah Joy was responsible for the turkey and it was well pampered with a 24 hour buttermilk bath.

I cooked my famous cranberry sauce with a tropical twist. Cranberries, pineapple, papaya, passion fruit, star fruit, mandarins, and coconut.
It was fabulous to spend time with Sarah Joy and great to meet her son. What a cutie!
Happy Thanksgiving!

Miel

Comic Relief

2010-10-05T18:31:00.004-04:00

I'm headed out to the field in the morning, so no time for a long post. One of the best parts of travel area all of the crazy things you see. Most are hard to capture, and are quickly forgotten, but this one I managed to get.

I’m now on my third trip to Kinshasa in the last couple of months. This photo was taken on my first trip to Kin, but wanted to share it. I think the picture says it all. What can I say, kind of "COMICO"?

Cheers,

Miel

Mount Nyiragongo

2010-09-20T14:39:00.002-04:00

There are some of those things that you dream of without really thinking it through. Hiking Mount Nyiragongo, the world's most active volcano just outside of Goma, DRC, was one of those times.
For months I had been dreaming it, not really ever taking into consideration just how difficult the hike might be. A colleague did it, mind you a buff security guy, who said no worries - the last bit is straight up, but it is doable.

What he didn't mention was that it would be a six hour hike, each direction, climbing about 6,000 feet in elevation during the trek. Not an easy hike.
Looking out towards the Rwandan hills. This was the heart of where people fled after the genocide.
Don't worry, he's with me!Beautiful wild flowers throughout the hike were a nice bonus.
Imagine volcanic rubble, and lava flows (wet and slick), not the easiest place to walk. Then add on that the last hour up, and then down, is death defying. One false step and you are a goner. It happened to one woman last year. This crow came in on our fellow hiker's breakfast, right next to the cross marking the woman's death.
Very cold and misty morning.
The lava lake is the largest in the world. Nyiragongo erupted for the first time in 1977 and imploded, blowing the top off. The second time, in 2002, it covered 40% of nearby Goma. The city has been rebuilt over the lava flow.
Really incredible to watch it boil and bubble.
I was making jokes of what countries we could make out in the lava. I swear I could find the Czech Republic in there somewhere.
You could feel the warmth from the lake, and you can't camp further down, as it is too hot.
It wasn't easy, but we survived. Doing something like that makes me think that Zanzibar is looking more appealing than Mt. Kilimanjaro next, but I still love the challenge.
Next time I'd like to be better prepared, considering that it rained into our tent all night long. I did the entire hike in Chacos and had to thaw my bare feet over the open fire before going to sleep.

Fun times,

Miel

Bonobos!

2010-09-19T11:24:00.004-04:00

It seems that I can't keep track of my own adventures to share with friends, family and beyond. I suppose I'll start from where I'm at and share adventures of wildlife, hiking volcanoes, and other adventures in the days and weeks to come. I just downloaded my pictures and realize how much there is to catch up with.

My most recent adventure was checking out the bonobos just outside of Kinshasa, where I've been for the last week. Bonobos are a small type of chimpanzee, their own species mind you, that are found only here in DR Congo. Their DNA is a 98% match to that of humans. Pretty crazy.

Even though they are naturally found out in the middle of Congo, they have a nice sanctuary to visit easily from Kinshasa.

These guys are very mischievous and pretty much harassed each other the entire time that we watched them. They were jumping all over the place and attacking each other with kung fu moves. This guys are resting for a moment as they plot their next attack.

Here we have them with the straw flying! Take that!
Or maybe I'll pause for a bite.
Or perhaps just to hang out!

Fun times,

Miel

Media Attention to Congo

2010-09-04T01:48:00.004-04:00

The last several weeks of media attention to eastern Congo came as a bit of a surprise. After twenty years of documented use of rape as a weapon of war in these parts - unfortunately in many other places as well - I never anticipated the attention that would come from our recent response in Walikale.

When I first learned of it, there were twenty-two cases of rape that had confirmed by our response team. There were also another 4,000 people hiding in fear in the forest. While not atypical of Congo, I still felt that the experience of these women needed to be shared with the wider world to remind people - and inform them in the first place - that rape is still an every day event in Congo. It isn't something that is just going away.

We began drafting up a story, and by the time it was ready to post on our website, the numbers had tragically risen. They continued to rise, as women returned from the forest and sought care at the health centers we support.

The mind boggling figure now stands at 242 women.

To imagine so many women, most of whom reported to have been gang raped by 2-6 assailants in the presence of their husbands and children, is heart breaking. Ranging in age from 16 to 75, these women - who already live in fear of such attacks - have experienced the worst.

While attacks like this have gone on for years, most of the time it doesn't even make the news, none-the-less cause such a media frenzy as it has.

After the news finally broke, the United Nations began to catch flack for it happening within a short distance of their base. When Ban Ki Moon started talking about the issue I was amazed at the reach that telling one story can have. Now action must back up talk.

I can't name all of the media sources that have contacted me for this story. I was live on South African radio yesterday, my friend spotted me in the Turkish newspaper, another in Cleveland, and another in Minnesota. I was contacted by the British, French, German, Spanish, Dutch, American, etc.

I'm a big NPR listener. So while I was on BBC radio, BBC news Channel, and Sky News, I knew I had hit the big time when As it Happens, Canadian Broadcast Company, approached me for an interview that aired on August 26th. Yesterday I followed up with an interview on All Things Considered with Melissa Block.

It was good to have a familiar voice as the interview took an entire hour of dropped skype calls. I thought, now she knows what my poor husband and family feel like! Thank goodness for edits!

Rape anywhere is not an easy subject to talk about, but certainly not on the scale we see here. I remember learning about the issue back in early 2004 from a Congolese friend in DC. I was appalled that the world wasn't up in arms about such horrific rapes occurring; and that I hadn't heard of the details earlier. Now I'm glad to have the opportunity to learn first hand and share with friends, family, and the rest of the world.

Regards,

Miel

Tragedy in Paradise

2010-08-23T12:18:00.000-04:00

It is one of the most beautiful places on earth. Simply breathtaking.

It is also the site of horrific abuses of human rights. The short story is that there have been attacks on a village that I visited back in June, where at least 4,000 people have fled into the forest, and at least 156 cases of rape have been reported in a three day period last week.

This includes everyone from little boys to grandmothers, with most reporting that they were raped by between 2 and 6 men.

I was quoted in the New York Times article, entitled Rwandan Rebels Raped at least 150 Women in Congo.

Miel Hendrickson, a regional director for the International Medical Corps, which has been documenting the rape cases, said, “We had heard first 24 rapes, then 56, then 78, then 96, then 156.”

“The numbers keep rising,” she said.
I've heard already from colleagues of being quoted as well in the Minneapolis and google tells me that folks in Australia are also learning of the tragedies here in DRC. My program coordinator was also featured on a BBC interview a couple of mornings ago, here is the transcript with more details about the incidents.

The situation is comprehensible. Such a beautiful place struggling with such difficult circumstances.

Miel

Honoring International Humanitarian Day

2010-08-19T06:51:00.004-04:00

For all of those nomads in the world who are also humanitarians. For those who sacrifice and give of themselves, who travel to remote and often insecure places in the world. To those who leave their families and friends, and the comforts of their homes to help those in need. It isn't an easy job, but I'm glad to be a humanitarian.

It reminds me of the Afghan faculty member I worked with from Kandahar who risked his life just to be a teacher, or the staff we now have responding to the more than 150 women who have been raped in a four day period here in one small corner of eastern DRC, or my team members in Sierra Leone who are starting up a program that will reduce the unnecessary lost lives of children and their mothers.

It also reminds me of the 102 humanitarian lives that were lost in 2009, including some of my own colleagues.

So No to Conflict Minerals

2010-08-03T05:15:00.000-04:00

HI Folks,

As I've shared many times over, conflict minerals (i.e. your cell phone/laptop/ipod, etc) are fueling conflict here in the DRC. Please do your part by telling electronics companies that you aren't interested in fueling wars and sexual violence.

Peace,

Miel

Fashion Flashbacks

2010-08-02T06:35:00.000-04:00

So I know it isn’t always nice to be a fashion critic, but let’s face it, many of us are. This can particularly be the case when being overseas, where fashions can be very different and people watching is always a great way to get to know a culture.

Here in Zimbabwe, we noted that there are some definite trends in fashion. Notably, white Zimbabweans – also known as Rhodesians – look like they stepped out of Kansas 1980. If you were to compare photos, I’d argue that they would have commonalities.

When heading to Victoria Falls, I met multiple white South Africans along the way. I realized that instead of Kansas circa 1980, they appeared to have come from Texas circa 1980. With massive platinum blond hair, Mary Kay would have been proud. Getting off the safari boat cruise, one of them looked like they just rolled out of bed – with hair being exceptionally large.

As it happens, black Zimbabweans and South Africans are exactly the opposite, and are quite fashionable and smart looking.

Interesting to see how the differences appear, even when it comes to appearance.

Best,

Miel

Chobe National Park

2010-08-01T04:45:00.001-04:00

While I was at Victoria Fall, I did a day trip to Chobe National Park in Botswana (country #55). Chobe National Park is one of Africa's gems that is a bit off the beaten path and less visited than other safari destinations.
During the day trip, the morning was spent on a the water, tooling around on a boat, and the afternoon was by vehicle. Throughout the day, we managed to spot hundreds of elephants, tens of hippos, at least a dozen giraffes and water buffalo, crocodiles, baboons, tons of birds, and the great spotting of a leopard.

All of those dots in the back are elephants. Chobe National Park has the largest number of elephants of any park in Africa, coming in with over 50,000 elephants. These are Kalahari elephants, the largest breed of elephants in the world.A nice spotting of a large family of giraffes.How did the elephant cross the road?
The elephants in Chobe are very mellow, as they aren't harassed as they are in some other areas of Africa.
Our fabulous sighting of a leopard, a great treat.
Kitty is thirsty.
Living together in harmony, at least for the moment.
Tons of great birds as well!
The lovely kingfisher.
More elephant!
My favorite giraffe pic.
Wonder why giraffe prints aren't popular.

My favorite water buffalo with bird on his nose.
Hippos fabulous hippos.
Crocodile up close and personal.

Great safari adventures. Look forward to more with my husband in the next year.

Cheers,

Miel

Rafting the Great Zambezi

2010-07-31T04:39:00.000-04:00

The Zambezi River, which Victoria Falls marks the half way point of, is one of the best whitewater rafting experiences in the world. Unfortunately for me, the best time to raft the river is during the dry season – September – November, depending on when the rains came.At this time of year, they just opened the river for the season in late June, so we were one of the first to hit the water. This rafting trip is not for the weak or the timid. They say that the Zambezi is one of the best rivers to raft, with fun rapid names like the "washing machine" and "terminator".

Just getting to down to the river is feat in and of itself, with a straight down walk into the gorge. At this time of year, we started at rapid 14, which meant that the trail wasn’t the one that is used year road. It would not have met any safety standards. Basically you had to do squats the entire way down the gravely cliff-like path, close to what I would call rock climbing.

The water at this time of year was pretty high, which meant some massive waves, but not as impressive of rapids, per se. The cool part was that the river is very deep, and you could therefore easily swim several of the rapids while hanging on to the safety rope of the raft.

During the dry season, the rapids are so intense that there are several that are nearly impossible not to capsize. Our guide said that if you sent four to five boats through, you would be lucky if the lot didn’t come up swimming. Luckily there aren’t rocks as hazards, but the water is strong enough to suck you down for a bit.

During the dry season you can go for overnight trips. They sounded nice in ways, and not in other ways. There are fabulous white sand beaches along some sections of the bank, which according to our guide, can sleep up to 100 people. The rafting part sounds great, but I’d rather do it privately as it was at this time of year, seeing only one other boat at put in.

Along the way, we stopped off on the Zambia side of the river on a fabulous white sand beach. Country number 56, yahoo!

Miel

Clash of Counter-Bureaucracy and Development

2010-07-30T05:33:00.000-04:00

Hi Folks,

In addition to sharing my adventures in development with my friends, family, and other readers, I generally try to stick to a couple of principles in my blogging. One, I try not to involve my work to an extent that would jeopardize any of the work that we do. And two, I try to keep a limit to airing my often conflicting sentiments about the international development field.

That being said, I felt it only appropriate to share what the top in the industry are saying. Andrew Natsios, former head of the US Agency of International Development (USAID), is speaking out against the layers of bureaucracy that often work against doing the best possible work - both for the people we are serving, and in the best interest of the American people.

Having recently won $28 million in funding, for proposals that my team and I have developed this year, I'm clearly an optimist in thinking that we can find ways to make a difference despite the issues that exist in development.

ABSTRACT:
One of the little understood, but most powerful and disruptive tensions in established aid agencies lies in the clash between the compliance side of aid programs—the counter-bureaucracy—and the technical, programmatic side. The essential balance between these two in development programs has now been skewed to such a degree in the U.S. aid system (and in the World Bank as well) that the imbalance threatens program integrity. The counter-bureaucracy ignores a central principle of development theory—that those development programs that are most precisely and easily measured are the least transformational, and those programs that are most transformational are the least measurable.

Relieving the tension between the counter-bureaucracy and development practice would require implementing new measurement systems, conducting more research on overregulation and its effects, reducing the layers of oversight and regulation, and aligning programmatic goals with organizational incentives.

Download the full essay here.

Feel free to share your comments about development!

Cheers,

Miel

Travel Tips for Victoria Falls

2010-07-28T04:46:00.001-04:00

Now for those of you interested in traveling to Victoria Falls, I thought I would do a post that is more travel guide oriented in nature. In doing research online, the resources were a bit scarce, so I figure these might help someone; if they do, please be kind to leave a comment.Getting There
You can arrive in Victoria Falls by multiple means. The most common are by flying to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe or Livingstone, Zambia. The flight from Harare to Vic Falls was $200USD, a short one hour flight. You can also get there via Botswana, or Namibia as well, since the falls lies close to the corner of Zimbabwe, Zambia, Botswana, and Namibia.

Staying in Vic Falls
There are many options for accommodation in Vic Falls, ranging from the backpacker end, to the high end.

The Victoria Falls Hotel is clearly the most high brow place to stay, and must be visited even if you can’t afford to stay there. The only place for royalty to stay, and not horribly priced, starting in the low 200s. Afternoon tea is a treat there, though you’ll have to get over feeling like a colonist.
The Kingdom Hotel, right next door to Victoria Falls, is a beautiful hotel with great water features, including both natural streams and several pools. It also has casino and a large central dining area. Around $175 for a double, I was told by those staying there, it isn’t quite up to any level of luxury.
Ilala Lodge is just across the way, also right next to the falls, is around $200 and is really very beautiful. From what I experienced, enjoying a nice dinner there, it is beautiful done, with nice staff. It seems around the level of the Victoria Falls Hotel, and while not as stuffy in feel, it was full of blue hairs on tours.
Victoria Falls Rest Camp and Lodge is where I opted for. It was $25 a night for a nice little bungalow without en suite bath. It was clean and felt very safe, and worked great for me. I think I’d opt for the Victoria Hotel if I was there with others though. There is also a restaurant, called In Da Belly that has a great burger and good breakfast as well. There was a pool, but too cold at this time of year.
Amadeus B&B was ranked well on Tripadvisor and was around $100.
The Gorges Lodges was one I might also go for in returning, this is about 30k out of town (I imagine they have a shuttle) and has huts on slits overlooking the gorge – we passed this on our rafting trip.
The Elephant Hotel is a couple of kilometers out of town and is reportedly where all the African Big Men like to stay; it looked oppressive to me, but that is somewhat suiting.

What to Do
Victoria Falls has simply tons to do. It is known as the adrenaline capital of Africa, if not the world. The only place I’ve been with as many adrenaline options was New Zealand, but I didn’t have enough of a budget to try them out myself. Some options are: safari, helicopter/flight/microlight over the falls, elephant rides, walking with lions, good old fashioned horseback riding, rafting, bungy jumping, swinging, flying - you name it - over the gorge on various cables and what not.Budget
Vacations vary greatly depending on what level you choose to travel at. Might was a mix between not being bare bones, and not being too much of a splurge either. My budget was:

Flight from Harare - $200
Full Day Chobe National Park Trip - $175
Half Day Whitewater rafting on the Zambezi - $100
Meals – Approximately $108 for four days (this was splurging big time and included several drinks and a lovely high tea)
Souvenirs – About $100 (Mom - be prepared to thank me for the treasure I found!)
Return Visa into Zim - $45 (recommend getting a multiple entry in advance)
Victoria Falls Park Entrance - $30; Rafting Park Fee - $10
Round trip Taxi - $40

Total for four days in Vic Falls: Approximately $800

Hope this info helps others you might be interested. Drop me a comment if you found this helpful.

Cheers,

Miel

Incredible Victoria Falls

2010-07-27T04:06:00.006-04:00

Most often when I travel for work, holidays are absorbed by work and so forth. This year, I had missed every holiday there had been, but I wasn’t going to let the same thing happen for the 4th of July (I know - I'm a bit behind these days!). I made a point to get away for the four day weekend to Victoria Falls. It was a perfect, and much needed break after six months with no holidays or vacations.

There is good reason that Victoria Falls is one of the wonders of the world. It is simply phenomenal.

If you know nothing more than that it is a massive waterfall, the second widest in the world, then you are in for a treat with all of its quirks. It is unlike you would expect of a typical waterfall. Vic Falls, as called by those in Southern Africa, marks the half way point for the Zambezi river; the fourth largest in Africa (behind the Nile, Congo, and Niger).Spanning a mile in width (5,604 ft), it rushes over the edge of the falls and plummets into a gorge that is approximately 360 feet deep and only 20 to 60 feet wide, then it channels in a raging river only 20 feet wide. This means that when viewing the falls, you are right in front of the falls, rather than standing at a distance as you normally would to see something in Niagara Falls.Being such a narrow area where the falls descend into, means that all of the water billows up into a massive blowhole type spray, shooting high in the air at times of high water. The local name for the Vic Falls, Mosi-oa-Tunya, means “Smoke that Thunders”, since from a distance the clouds of water spraying upwards appears very much like smoke. As you come closer, the sound is thunderous. When first discovered, it was thought to be a massive fire.
Victoria Falls is also pretty incredible, in that the falls have continued to move over time, as the water breaks through the basalt and creates a new set of falls, zig zagging from one place to the next.When you view the falls from the Zimbabwe side, as Victoria Falls rests with Zimbabwe on one bank and Zambia on the other, you can view the falls from 73 steps down to see the falls from one side looking across lengthwise. The rest of the falls, you are up on the edge parallel to the cascading falls, looking down, if you dare, into the plunge of the falls.

Victoria Falls is very seasonal, depending on the level of the water. In rainy season, November – May, it is nearly impossible to see the falls, as there is simply a white wall of water between you and the falls. In the dry season, September – October, you can see the falls best, without as much spray, but the water isn’t as intense either.

In my opinion, the mid-season, June-August, is the perfect time to view the falls. You have raging waters, and still plenty of spray, but not so much as to block the view entirely. At the end of the walk, at Danger Point, the spray was so heavy during my visit that it was as if there was a torrential downpour – though in reality there was no rain at all. Even with a rain jacket past my knees, which you can rent for a few bucks, my pants were completely soaked through.I recommend going early morning on a weekday for a private viewing. I went on a Monday morning around 8am and saw most of the falls without crossing paths with anyone else. It was like my own little oasis. I walked the path, becoming drenched, and sang the songs I learned from Australian Aborigines in a sort of walking meditation. It was simply lovely.

While most places I have been, I realize that it is less than likely that I will return, Victoria Falls is one that I am most certain to make a point of returning again with family. It was a great solo trip, but Vic Falls is too fabulous not to share with others.

Miel

World Cup Finale

2010-07-10T12:39:00.001-04:00

On a cheerier note, regarding the World Cup, I have to urge you to catch the beginning of the final match. I was lucky enough to watch a private performance in Zimbabwe of a twenty something orphan, named Taps, who will be performing at the finale. Taps was abandoned as an orphan at two days old and has overcome great obstacles to reach where he is today. He managed to get a scholarship at a music school in LA and is studying there now.

The song that Taps will be performing at the finale of the World Cup has a great story behind it as well. After several weeks in the US, Taps was feeling homesick and was bemoaning to his friend. Like a good friend, he told him that as a musician he should get it out of his system by going to write a song about it. He said fine, “I’ll go and write the best song I’ve ever written.” That is just what he did.

Whether in a private performance or with the whole world watching him, the first cord of Taps’ music hits you. You would vote for him on African Idol, or American Idol for that matter. The song, entitled Africa, is about storytelling and how Africa has had its story written by others over the centuries. Now it is time for Africans to come together and write their own story for the continent.

How Taps made it to the World Cup is also very karmic. Taps’ music was picked up by Oprah and he was flown out to Chicago to meet with Oprah’s team. She herself was in a live show, so they haven’t had the pleasure to meet yet. He is supposed to do a show with Oprah in September, so this won’t be the last you will hear of Taps. So while he is meeting with her staff, they start talking about how they really have to try and get Taps to perform Africa at the World Cup 2010 in South Africa.

So the night that Taps arrives back in LA, he goes over to a get together at a friend’s house, who also happens to be a writer for Hollywood. He shares his stories about Oprah, and how the team had talked about trying to get him to perform at the World Cup. As it so happens, the Vice President of FIFA was at that party, and he was in like Flynn.

Needless to say, I’m looking forward to watch Taps perform, as well as the finale. If you do get a chance to watch it, please drop me a note to let me know what you thought.

Cheers,

Miel

World Cup Fever

2010-07-09T12:18:00.004-04:00

One of the best parts of being in Africa this summer has been the World Cup. There has been something electric about it being here in Africa. With games in the middle of the day in the states and no TV at home, I would have been unlikely to catch more than a couple of matches.

Here in Africa, I’ve managed to catch more matches than I can put a number on. Of course my favored team was Ghana, taking a piece of me with that cheating move on Uruguay’s finale of the match. I found a great place to watch it in Victoria Falls, a cute pub called Blue Zulu – just behind the post office on the main street.

Others were not so fortunate. You may or may not have heard of the tragedy that struck DRC during the match. There had been an oil tanker that crashed and spilled oil all afternoon. People came with their jerry cans to collect the oil for personal use.

But to make matters worse, it was in the area of pubs where people were gathered to watch the match. Even when cautioned of the risk, people wouldn’t leave the game. Tragically when a spark hit the fuel, 230 plus people burned instantly and another 100 plus were badly burned. My team was one of the first to respond in treating the survivors and helping to manage the disaster. The pictures were nothing short of horrific.

We are working on identifying a burn trauma specialist to volunteer with my organization in the response, so if you know of anyone, please drop me a comment and I will provide further details.

Best,

Miel

Travel Update

2010-07-08T12:32:00.003-04:00

So I’ve clearly been delinquent in keeping up with my travel log. That is just how it rolls some times. I’ll be catching up on my adventures in Zimbabwe over the next week with some best of recaps. In the mean time I wanted to update on the where is Miel status.

In the Harare airport as I type this, but offline at the moment. I’m headed to Nairobi this morning to meet up with a colleague and attend a couple of donor meetings tomorrow. Then I’m on to Kigali on Saturday to meet another colleague for a night there before driving back over to DR Congo.

I’ll be in DRC for minimum of six weeks, and likely closer to two plus months, give or take. I’m helping to fill in for one of my Country Directors who will be enjoying a much deserved holiday in Europe with his family.

Having been on the road now for nearly two months I’m about at the half way point in my travels this time around. Having been gone for six weeks in the fall, the entire month of January, all of March, and since early May, I will have been home for 15 weeks in a year and on the road for the other 37 weeks. I guess that makes it about two thirds gone, and a third at home. Last year it was one third on the road. When I interviewed for my job I was told it could be between 10% and 90%, so I guess that falls within the bell curve.

It’s the journey not the destination.

Indeed the journey, and the wait in some cases. After writing this post in the airport, may travel was delayed. The short story is that I was in the Harare airport for seven hours before my flight was canceled. The long story is that the flight was late, and then it had a technical problem in the air and was sent back to Nairobi, then they had to change planes, then they had to change staff, then the flight left, and then 3 hrs later it turns out the flight never left, at the end, and then they canceled it.

Means another weekend in Harare. Life could be worse.

Miel

You Say It's Your Birthday!

2010-06-18T02:53:00.003-04:00

Well it's my Birthday too!

My twin sis and I always had fun singing this one to each other. This is even better since it is Paul McCartney's Birthday as well, and so many radio stations play the song today.

Unfortunately, once again my sis and I are apart for our Birthdays. In our adult lives we've been fortunate enough to spend our 21st in Fiji, our 29th in Portland, and our 32nd in Portland as well. Not great odds when you look at it. We'll have to see what we can do to improve this.

I've spent my Birthdays around the world, in Germany, Denmark, Fiji, Ghana, Afghanistan, and now Zimbabwe.

This Birthday will be significantly on the mellow side. I'm in Zimbabwe without anyone to speak of to hang out with, and am still learning my way around the city. I think I'll escape for lunch at a nearby cafe and then try to book a massage for either today or some time this weekend. Perhaps I'll even manage to find a bootleg copy of Sex and The City 2 for this evening. That could be good.

I was supposed to be working through the weekend on a proposal, but with a blessed delay, I will now be able to chill out on the weekend and step away from my laptop.

The thing I've learned about Birthdays is that they are for you. If you aren't around a bunch of friends and family, then you have to make the best of it for yourself. I think I'll take some time for reflection and consideration about where I'm at as I move further into my thirties.

I'd have to say that this note from my father gave me a big smile this morning, "Some where in Africa she is turning 33. HURRAH!!! I hope all is well. Wally [I'm proud of you!!!] ROCK ON!!!"

The last time I spoke with my folks they also shared their Birthday wishes in advance, not knowing what my connection would be like. My husband has been keeping my Birthday gift a secret (hopefully he'll tell me today!) eCards are flooding in as well. The world is still a small place, even if I'm far away from those I love. Life is good.

Miel

Minerals

2010-06-09T16:48:00.004-04:00

The final jetfighter maneuver that took the plane around for final landing into Goma couldn’t even be described as comparable to a roller coaster; not even Montezuma’s Revenge. It came unexpectedly. I had been warned, but even that wasn't sufficient to prepare oneself. Suddenly there was part of me that wondered if I was underwater, or if it just felt like I was swimming for a moment. As it turned out, we were making a Top Gun move instead.

Our flight was just us, the Russian pilots, and a couple of local guys parked on the bags of casiderite that lined the belly of the plane. Does being on a plane loaded with illegally extracted minerals implicate me in this mess that is Congo? It seems that the equivalent in South America would be hoping on a flight loaded down with cocaine.
For those not familiar with issues in Eastern DR Congo, the exploitation of the minerals that power our electronic devices that are fueling the conflict in the region. These include casiterite, coltan, copper, and then the added valuable such as gold and diamonds. They make up what have now been coined as “conflict minerals”. If you want to take action on this, check out the Enough website that shows you how to get involved.

Miel

Making News

2010-05-17T16:55:00.004-04:00

This is a bit surreal. I'm here this evening in Bujumbura, Burundi, when I flip on CNN as I get ready for dinner. I catch that there is a long clip that included details about the project that I went to start up in Macedonia in 2006. It is now on its final year of completion, and according to CNN, seems to be a success. It felt good to see the work I do sharing on international television.

The bizarre thing is, that I get back from dinner, and there is another CNN clip about the work that I'm currently doing. Here I am watching about my own work.

Two CNN clips in one night?! I could get used to this.

Night, night.

Miel

On the Road Again

2010-05-15T13:39:00.004-04:00

As you might have gathered from my last post, I'm on the road again. This year might make the record for the long time on the road while actually not living overseas. I'll basically be summering in Africa. Schedules are made to be broken, but the most likely scenario will be Burundi, DRC, Zimbabwe, and then back to DRC again.

I'm once again chilling in Nairobi airport for a few hours en route to Bujumbura, Burundi (though definitely not as cold as Europe). This is my sixth time in Nairobi airport in the last five months. The funny thing is that I've never actually left the airport, and thus Kenya still doesn't make it on to my country count, even though I've spent several days here all together.

My husband will be headed to Baghdad in a couple of weeks, so it will be a good distraction for both of us, though I admittedly miss him already. I am looking forward to the work that I'll be doing over the next several months on the road. I'm just happy to dearly love my work, even if it means my work is often my life. As my boss puts it in interviews, this line of work is less of a job, and more of a lifestyle.

Looking forward to posting more of my adventures as we get through the summer.

Cheers,

Miel

Passing through Stuttgart

2010-05-14T01:58:00.003-04:00

There is something about Europe that is so wonderful. I feel so fortunate to have lived in Finland for a year in high school as a Rotary Exchange Student to really get the full flavor of it. Every time I'm back, if only briefly, I'm captured by its style and sensibility.

Street cars gliding along. Staircases nestled in the woods. Fields of wildflowers and blissfully green trees en route from the airport. Stuttgart is a fabulous little city.

Even better is European hospitality. My colleague and I are staying at some friends of hers that she's worked with in Africa and the Middle East, and now they find themselves in an incredible apartment (if you can call the four bedroom flat that!) in Stuttgart.

Last night I enjoyed one of the most incredible meals I've had in a long time. At this time of year, the delicacy is white asparagus. Topped with Hollandaise sauce, new potatoes, and a petite fillet mignon, you can't really get better than that.

Now off to business meetings for the day. Hoping not to freeze too badly today. All my suits are for Africa. So I'll be suffering in sandals.

Cheers,

Miel

Walking to Work

2010-05-09T11:32:00.004-04:00

The comment on my last post made me think of how fortunate I am to walk to work. I've been doing so for over the last six years, and couldn't be happier with it. In fact, this is the strongest reason for us to continue to live in the heart of the district. I'm a big fan of metro as well, but I'm quite delighted that I don't have to commute daily by anything other than my own two feet.

Over the years, as we've moved from place to place, my commute has changed as we go. My longest daily commute was when I first moved to DC, coming in at 1.7 miles to and then from work. Later, while in grad school, my commute on days when I went to class, was more than three miles round trip as well.

In our recent move, I've shaved off four blocks from my commute and it makes all the difference. Instead of 1.6 miles to work, it is only 1 mile if I take advantage of the diagonals of DC.

I also take the route of limiting my iPod usage while walking so I can enjoy and be aware of my surroundings. I most often listen on my morning walk when there are fewer folks bustling to work, and in the afternoon I take a break from it and tune into my surroundings instead.There are morning, like these, where I take photos on my walk to work. It makes me appreciate how much better my commute is in the fresh open air, getting my added bonus work out, instead of fighting traffic.In fact, when I'm on the way back from my morning boot camp, I pause at one of the bigger arteries coming into the city and see people in their cars and am glad that I've already enjoyed my morning workout while others are already en route to work.There are other mornings, where I decide to take a morning walk before getting ready for work. These pictures I took a few months back when it was still dark in the morning twilight. It was a great way to start my morning.I might live in center of a dense metropolis, but when you can see a view like this in your morning, it makes all the difference.I can appreciate the architecture of the city and enjoy the community of watching others run or walk their dogs.
Then eventually I walk from the residential area of DC, right into the heart of downtown for work. I remember one of the things I love about briefly living in Brisbane, Australia was seeing people walk through the downtown on their way to work. There was something about it that was just so invigorating. It doesn't get better than this.

Miel

Moving in Circles in the City

2010-04-24T01:19:00.000-04:00

Despite the often wandering tendencies of this nomad, I've actually been in the same apartment that we bought for the last five years. Certainly the longest I've lived anywhere since being a kid.

We now just moved a whooping four blocks away to our new place. I realized when tracking our patterns within the district, that we've stayed within a very close circle since I've been in DC. We first moved seven blocks, then five blocks, and now four blocks closer to where we started. While we might be getting closer to where we started, it still feels like we've progressed a great deal without moving too far.

The amazing thing in the city is that you move four blocks, and your whole world changes. New stores, new streets you walk on, basically a whole different routine. Never underestimate what a difference a few blocks might make!

Walking to work yesterday with the marvelous weather in Washington, before it dropped thirty degrees this morning, I was struck by the beauty of the city and how much I truly love it.

I particularly love walking to work. People often are taken aback when I say that I walk over 1.5 miles to and then from work every day. It is so much a part of my routine that I could imagine not doing it. I end up taking the bus maybe once or twice a month, but otherwise I marvel at how great the city is.

As much as I love to travel, it is also great to have a place to call home. Though I certainly am deeply attached to my original home of Oregon, I can't help but have a place in my heart for Washington.

Happy Spring,

Miel

Another Nomad in the Family

2010-03-29T20:12:00.002-04:00

I'm normally used to being the rare nomad in my family. These days, that seems to be changing. I've got family vagabonding around the globe, with two of my mother-in-laws, one brother-in-law, and a slew of other remote-in-laws biking through Southeast Asia, and another mother-in-law and brother-in-law traveling in Israel for twin cousin-in-laws Bat Mitzvahs. (yes, my family is large and complicated!) I love hearing about their stories and knowing I'm not the only one who is on the road in this family.

Now there are big changes to come, with another nomad on the road. My husband has just accepted a position in Iraq and will be headed off in May, right when I head back from Burundi.

It's certainly a big change for us, since I'm normally the one on the road, but we both feel that it is right for his career and our lives at this moment. I'm already on the road so much, that he might as well take a very interesting job when it comes along. Plus, we'll have R&Rs in various places in the globe every 90 days that I can report back on to you! Finally a chance to take real vacation!

Wish him luck!

Miel

Time Zones

2010-03-25T06:43:00.002-04:00

Just a quick post on my first morning back stateside, as I head off to jury duty (which my best friend happened to be call for the same day!).

The weather is incredible in Washington at the moment, and it seems I've missed the recent rains. The birds are singing outside and the blossoms are on the trees.Changing time zones can be different every time it seems. Some times I experience jet lag, but these days I've managed to nearly never experience it.

This morning, however, I'm completely thrown off by the daylight savings time thing. I woke up a bit on the early side at 5:30 (alarm set for 6), but enjoyed laying there, curling up to my husband, and contemplating all the changes to come in our lives (more on this later, as it deserves a full post).

When I did get up, I was literally walking around checking clocks to make sure that I didn't accidentally wake up too early. It's now almost 7am and it is now just starting to get light.

It's been bright and sunny when I've woken up in Congo every morning, so this feels like a pretty big change.

Life is good.

Miel

In Her Element

2010-03-24T06:33:00.000-04:00

My husband always remarks when I return that Africa suits me. I'm always looking and feeling good, despite the long journey (or at least he is smart enough to tell me this!).

It's been fun to have a colleague on my recent travels who also likes to take photos. This means I have more pictures than just my own, and catching candids like this one of me and a mob of kids yesterday at a health center called Kausa, in the former Nkunda strong hold area of North Kivu, DRC.

For some people, you couldn't pay them enough to do my job, but for me I love it. There is never a trip that I go on that I don't think about how fabulously fortunate I am to do what I love. My colleague, the same photographer, was listening to us go over budgets and proposals and remarked how he couldn't imagine doing what I do.

Certainly not for the meek at heart, either in terms of pure work load, danger level, or just sheer complexity of what I manage.

The thing is, I wouldn't be half as productive in a job that wasn't so challenging. It's just what I do. I'm in my element.

I've scheduled this to be posted when I arrive back in DC, so despite missing Congo, I will be elated to see my husband and the fabulous cherry blossoms!

Miel

Residency in Congo

2010-03-23T07:26:00.001-04:00

I’ve now reached my marker for having “lived in a place”. I had set this as five months, given that my study abroad programs in college were one semester each, where I lived in Ecuador and Australia (going back for a second round in Australia to co-lead the program there. This is what I had defined as living in a place.

My journeys started with a year in Finland, then 5 months in Australia, 5 months in Ecuador, 2 years plus in Ghana, another 5 months in Australia, 1 year plus in Afghanistan, and I’ve always semi-counted Fiji in that list even though it doesn’t qualify in terms of time spent there, it does qualify in my mind for having really lived in a place and having experienced to a level far beyond just passing through.

Now the Democratic Republic of Congo qualifies for such status, not in one stint, but five combined months of trips here. It certainly isn’t the same in many ways, but I do feel that my time here has given me an understanding equal to or more than other places where I’ve lived.
Plus, given my frequent trips back and forth, it now seems to many that I live here. I knew I was spending significant time here when the guy at the marina last week saw me and wanted to prove he knew me by calling me by name before he opened my passport. I know I have a unique name, but I was surprised that a border crossing guy (as technically you go through the whole border crossing routine when crossing Lake Kivu within DRC) would remember me as opposed to the no small number of passengers that come through the place.

Now when other expats recognize me in restaurants and parties, they presume I live here at the frequency in which they see me.

My colleagues back home joke that I should take up residency, which technically I did last year when I had to sign on to our bank account here. I also have a Congolese driver’s license to make it official.

I’ll be back in the area to Burundi in May, possibly back here in June, and then again in August, so I might as well get used to the status as well as improve my French.

Congo sucks you in and won’t let you go. It’s certainly a unique and fascinating country, and it has captured my heart as much or more than other places I’ve lived. I call where I am home at that moment, so DRC definitely counts as that.

Miel

Toy Soliders

2010-03-22T06:47:00.000-04:00

Being a soldier anywhere is hard work, but particularly in Africa. While unnamed wars still drag on, the continent is now seeing a bit of a reprieve from the last several decades of fighting seen in Liberia, Sierra Leone, Angola, Mozambique, Somalia; the list goes on.

On my last trip to Congo, I was struck one morning by the sight of a child’s sleeping bag rolled up and tied to the back of a soldier’s pack. I’m certain the sleeping bag, with images of soccer balls and teddy bears, was meant for slumber parties and sleepovers instead of for this grown soldier. Perhaps he himself had grown up with bag in toe from when he was once a child soldier.

Either way, it got me to thinking about how soldiers here are used as toys and infantilized to some extent, as they do the bidding for others with little respect or compensation.

Being a soldier in Congo is rough. You often don’t get paid, half of your weapons are broken, you are away from your family and often your homeland. You partake in, and are witness to, such atrocities that would keep you up at night if you hadn’t compartmentalized it for survival’s sake.

You might have been doing this since you were a child soldier, taken from your family and forced to grow up faster than anyone should. You know no other way of life. You have no other options. You are a pawn in the game of war, like a toy soldier off to war.

Miel

Fishnets and Corsets

2010-03-21T09:24:00.004-04:00

Going out in Africa is often part of being an expatriate. Whether you are 20 something or 50 something, I would venture to say that most of us go out more often when we are on the road or living abroad than we would in our own everyday lives.

While I certainly enjoy going out while I’m overseas, since I rarely do while I’m in DC, there is always part of going out that tends to put me ill at ease. This would be the numbers of prostitutes that frequent most bars and clubs, whether in Africa or Afghanistan. You can spot them a mile away, with fishnets, corsets, short shorts, and backless tops.

I’m generally a big people watcher and tend to enjoy observing the comings and goings wherever I am in the world. However, this would be the one exception that make my skin crawl.

I know the options are few and the demand has been created by an excess of horny white men, but still.

I hate to think of the wives and kids at home. The women here with their family ties now destroyed. Their odds of contracting HIV or other STIs. It can’t be a good life.

Here in Goma there is supposedly a contingent of women who have the commonality of children by Indian UN soldiers, creating a small minority ethnic group.

One of the unfortunate impacts of expatriate living. Many organizations, like mine, have strict policies against sexual exploitation and abuse, but unfortunately this is certainly not the norm. Outside this particular club were a handful of NGO cars and a lineup of UN vehicles.

Miel

First Female King in Ghana

2010-03-20T03:19:00.001-04:00

I was tipped off by one of my fellow RPCVs (Return Peace Corps Volunteer), on this article in the Washington Post, All the King's Men: As the first female ruler of Otuam, Ghana, Peggielene Bartels has had to deal with a legacy of corruption -- and no shortage of sexism, about the first female King in Ghana.

She obviously has a tough job to take over, but she seems to be taking it with ease. Some of my favorite lines from the article reminded me of the spirit of Ghana.

For example, the late King is currently in a deep freezer where bodies are kept in Ghana for months to years to save for a bigger funeral and show how much money the family has (though I think far too much of it goes to the freezer instead of the family).

"If we give him a poor funeral, his spirit may become restless and vengeful," she said. "So in the meantime he will stay in the fridge, which is fine, except for when the electricity goes off."

In Ghana, the electricity goes off routinely.

Another favorite was the reminder of the great names of businesses in Ghana, "Gazing out the window as our taxi careened over potholes, I saw such enterprises as the By the Grace of God Brake and Clutch Center, the Jesus is our Savior Beer and Wine Pub, the Forget Your Wife Chop House and the Thanks Be to God Toilet Facilities."I was enstoled as Queenmother, with the title of Mama Dorfor Nenyo I, when I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Ghana. Checking out the photo gallery for her ceremony reminded me much of mine. I'm thinking I'll have to see if there is some way I could meet her in the DC area, or perhaps in Ghana. It would be pretty cool.
Cheers,

Miel

Influx of Whites to Rwanda

2010-03-19T05:11:00.003-04:00

My colleague here on Congo tipped me off to this great blog, This is Africa, that covers many of my stomping grounds within Africa. I haven't had a chance to explore more of his blog, but based on this first post I will definitely be back for more.

Rwandan officials appeal to Western governments: Please, send more blacks.

A concerning piece about the devastating influx of whites into Rwanda. My favorite lines are:

"The capital, according to analysts, has been hardest hit by the surplus of whites. Kigali’s Bourbon Coffee, according to a recent Human Rights Watch report, ranks among the most densely populated coffee shops on the planet."

This is of course, a coffee shop that I have frequented myself - Ms. Whitie - guilty as charged.

"According to local media, Kigali supermarkets have been unable to cope with the sudden demand for soy milk and hummus."

I can't say that eastern DRC expats are priviledged to have either of those luxuries, but if they were here, there would certainly be a run on them!

and last but not least:

"Reports that the capital was facing a dire shortage of horn-rimmed glasses and ironic t-shirts could not be confirmed."

Of course I couldn't control my laughter at this one, since I was wearing my horn rimmed glasses, and my other colleagues - our security officer - was wearing a shirt that said, "Green Piece" (with a picture of a gun) in honor of St. Patrick's Day.

Christopher Vourlias, the witty travel extraordinary, is a simply hilarious 30 something, Brooklyn-born travel writer, currently based out of a suitcase.

Check out his above post for a great laugh. I would have to say that I'd agree with one of the comments, in that only those of who actually know Africa, can either a) understand the real nuances behind much of his humor; or b) can tell when he's joking and when he might actually be serious.

Either way, whether you understand it or not, I still think it is pretty fabulous!

Keep up the great work Christopher!

Safe travels,

Miel

Ni Paix Ni Guerre

2010-03-18T15:37:00.003-04:00

Neither peace nor war. It says so much. This is how eastern Democractic Republic of Congo was described in a report that was developed on the joint assessment trip that I wrapped up last week (though I've stuck around DRC - in Goma now - for a couple of additional weeks).

As you can see from the photo that I snagged above, Congo's military presence has grown board of fighting (though this doesn't stop daily attacks) and the civilians of Congo are fatigued from years of war (though these kids are clearly still enjoying being kids).

Eastern DRC, North and South Kivu in particular, are now at a stage where they are being pushed into development - ready or not. Relief donors are starting to wane, though development donors still haven't made their way fully into the region. It is the typical development story. We've seen the damaging effects of the relief/development gap in places like Sierra Leone and Liberia, but still the issues remain the same.

A nation in flux. Not sure whether to attribute random gun fire yesterday in Uvira - the second largest city in South Kivu where I was last week - to actual war, or just because the unpaid militias are upset and decide to start firing within the city. I guess it depends on your definition of war. I certainly don't call it peace. At least not yet.

Congo still has some time to go to reach peace, but perhaps it is on its way. Perhaps not. While donors talk of development, civilians are talking of things getting worse before they get better. We'll see who is right in the end.

Miel

Kids will be Kids

2010-03-14T06:15:00.004-04:00

One of the things that I've learned through my travels, is that kids are often very similar, the world over. In this case in point, give a kid a pair of funny colored glasses and they'll find a way to goof off with them!
This boy captured my heart instantly when he gave me this winning pose. Here we were stuck in one of the worst sections of road imaginable, and he was having the time of his life with this pair of glasses! In my photo for tomorrow's post I managed to catch another kid goofing off as well. Fun was clearly had by all.

This boy in Congo also reminded me of a series of photos I have of my nephew goofing off with a pair of silly glasses a couple of years ago.

Kids will be kids,

Miel

Dancing Raindrops

2010-03-13T13:12:00.003-05:00

There is something incredible about rain, life renewing, replenishing, and sometimes just all around fun.

This afternoon, just when we were ready to delve into a budget, the African rain started pouring. When I saw the raindrops pounding Lake Kivu beyond, I couldn't help but put budgets on hold and convince my equally crazy colleague to join me for a swim in the rain. As was advised from my recent Dove chocolate, that I brought to share with said colleagues, "Well behaved women rarely make history".

We dove right in and swam way out into the lake. The rain drops were dancing on the lake in the most incredible fashion. I wish I could share the mental photo that I took.

I actually met one of my best friends, who now lives in Costa Rica, while swimming in the pouring rain in college. We were both crazy enough to run down and jump the fence for a night swim. Even for Oregon it was an exceptionally hard rain, and I recall floating on my back with the rain pouring down on my stomach. Incredible.

In my last trip to Kigali I also had a pretty amazing experience with rain. If you forget about the fact that it was raining so hard that you couldn't see the road itself, nor the pedestrians scampering for drier ground, or the possibility of being another statistic of vehicles plunging to their demise (we had already passed on about an hour before) - then the rain itself was incredible.

In the headlights, the rains was coming down in such incredible silver sheets that I was mesmerized by them while I tried to forget about my possible near death.

Another favorite global rain experience was my arrival into Kuala Lumpur, where the rain was vibrant against the mesmerizing Petronas Towers. I think that is why I fell in love with a skyscraper, or maybe it was just the rain.

What adventures do you have in the rain?

Miel

Into your Psyche

2010-03-10T00:32:00.003-05:00

One of the realities of life on the road are long, long work days. Last year when I was in DR Congo for two months, I worked 16 hrs days every day except for one day seeing gorillas and one day walking through the town of Bukavu with my colleagues for a much needed break.

Such intense work means that everything you do gets into your head.

Yesterday my day looked like this:

Breakfast with colleagues, already discussing work at 7am. A quick staff meeting to say farewell and then on the road in Uvira by 9am to reach Bukavu by 1:30 - the only break being the photo shown in my post yesterday.

Then an hour lunch with colleagues, meeting a team of folks I had been working with from the DC side who are conducting a survey here with our support.

Back to work until 9:00pm when we finally all pulled ourselves away from our work and sat down for dinner together.

Back to work again immediately after dinner to work out budgets for the survey. Then reviewing documents from DC and keeping up with email, as I still have to do all of my regular job when I'm on the road.

I finally called it a day at 12:20 am, only to open my laptop up once more to send another time sensitive email that I needed a response by this morning. With 7 hrs of time difference, there is no end to the working day.

While it was a long, but relatively standard, day the thing that gets me is dreaming of work all night. At 6:10 I awake to exercise to realize that I am not so much dreaming as I am problem solving in my sleep. Going over calculations and strategies in my mind before I've even started my day.

Now for some coffee and back to another day of the same, except without the drive.

Cheers,

Miel

Out of Juice

2010-03-09T16:24:00.005-05:00

Being in the field sometimes means being energy challenged, whether it be the assortment of battery operated gadgets, or just being beat from really long work days and days on end of road trips.

Today, just when I was starting to feel like I myself needed a break (after five days of driving and meeting with donors on a field visit), I also realized that everything but my torch light had a completely dead battery.

This morning I awoke to have a critically low battery, and no generator on to re-power.

Then my iPod was nearly out of juice and only lasted about half of our drive today.

Lastly my camera ran out of my good American batteries yesterday and were replaced with the backup ones I'd bought here. They may have come in a nice looking package, but they lasted less than a day. Then the second set wouldn't even take a single photo. Each 4 pack was $10.

The silver lining is that my colleagues had juice to make up for my low reserves, and took the above photo when my camera was dead on arrival. Hopefully I can find batteries soon to share my other photos.

Now I'm just wrapping up my work day at 12:01am and am out of juice myself!

Cheers,

Miel

P.S. You can also follow along to track where is Miel on the right side bar. I'll update this so long as I have juice to do so. ;-)

Ambassador

2010-03-08T01:31:00.000-05:00

No matter where I go in the world, one thing that remains the same is my role as ambassador. Whether you are cognizant, or oblivious, your role as you travel is also the same.

The reality is, that as one travels, you are the face of whatever country, state, race, etc. that you represent. While traveling in Europe you might just be another loud American (or not), going to more remote areas of the world increases ones role as an ambassador.

For me, this was first the case as an exchange student in Finland, where nine months of training from Rotary International provided skills on being a good ambassador. Continuing on later in my travels, being a Peace Corps Volunteer is certainly like being a junior ambassador of sorts. I would venture to argue that PCVs perhaps leave more impressions of America on their host country than the American Ambassador themselves (given access to people a local level and impressions left by volunteers over the years).

In my village in Ghana I was the first "white lady" to live in the village. Without movies or other access to impression of America, my community certainly was left with an impression of America based on my actions and behavior.

Now as I travel this remains to be the case. As I spend long days on the road and visit one health facility after another, I represent not only the international organization I work for, but so much more than that

I might just be the only white face someone sees in a day. This gives me pause in that I feel obliged to represent foreigners alike in a positive manner.

In many of the areas that I travel, this means smiling and waving at kids and family – for hours.

Yes, sometimes it feels a bit like a parade of sorts, but while I might be tired of waving and smiling as we pass through villages, the alternative also seems untenable to me. I feel that if I did let fatigue set in, that all those excited kids and families would be let down and be left with a poor impression. Children are so excited when they see one of the only cars that will pass them in the day, that they being waving and smiling and running before you even approach them closely.

So, at the end of the day, the role of ambassador might be as simple as a smile, but I believe that smile makes all the difference.

Safe journeys,

Miel

Peace Corps Week

2010-03-02T05:06:00.001-05:00

In honor of Peace Corps week, I wanted to share a bit about my thoughts on volunteering. I was originally going to lobby on the Hill, but since I'll be jumping on a plane to Congo this evening that isn't possible.

I've already shared a bit about my experience as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Ghana, and the toughest job you'll ever love. Though arguably I think my current job may take the cake on that one, it does remind me often of lessons learned in Peace Corps.

I've sorted through to find various posts I've done in the past, so you can click on the links to check out more about Peace Corps.

Planting a mango tree at the school in honor of the headmaster who fell sick and died. He was also one of the beekeepers in the cooperative we started.

When asked about Peace Corps, my overall take continues to be that it is what you make of it, similar to life itself. Those who complain about this or that, are often not really living the experience, and it shows. Or they thought of Peace Corps as an option and then decided not to do it for x, y, or z.

I personally found it to be one of the most enriching and challenging experiences of my life.

You learn to handle life's adversity, whether it be scorpion infestations or other hazards that abound.

Watching trees grow was also a highlight - this one planted the year before!

There are also fun times, first experiences watching DVDs, the intrigue of being a twin in Ghana, or the joys of bucket baths (I put these in the positive category that others may not).

My grandmother questioned what Peace Corps would do for my career. Now a decade later it is quite clear that it has been the foundation to my career. And my grandmothers live vicariously through my adventures.

Peace Corps is certainly not for everyone, but it has made a world of difference.

Being enstooled as Queen Mother, Mama Dorfor Nenyo I

If you are a volunteer or return volunteer, please leave me a comment on when and where you served!

For those of you who thought of serving as a volunteer thirty years ago, why not do it now? Retire and volunteer.

Safe travels,

Miel

Learn More about DR Congo

2010-03-01T06:07:00.000-05:00

People are finally listening about what is happening in Congo. Whether it be from signing up to receive blogs like this, whimsical stories about heroes and hope, or documentaries that make you learn more. Listen, and learn more.

There are people every day who do good work. Some who capture your heart or make you laugh. I wanted to share this article in the Huffington Post about several colleagues I work with and cross paths with during my work in the Democratic Republic of Congo. They are the heroes of development, or the James Bond of development. Those who risk their lives to create hope in a place where women are not safe in their own homes (over half of women raped in DRC were attacked in their own homes at night).

Giorgio Trombatore and I on bridge crossing Congo River near Kisangani

The article is hilarious, particularly when you know the great Italian accent that goes along with it. My sister commented that it brings people into a story that otherwise people might turn away from before hearing the gritty details.

A good friend of mine came across the HBO documentary, Reporter, with Nicholas Kristof. I haven't had a chance to see it yet, but I'm glad my friend watched the film because me, to learn more about what I face each time I head back to Congo. I don't have a TV, so I haven't yet had a chance to check it out, but I've heard good things about it and encourage others to check it out and learn more. I have it saved on Netflix already.

The reality is, places like Congo are very removed from everyday live in North America or Europe. Just learning more and informing yourself about the issues that are happening and the struggles that are being had is a good first step.
Rape Survivors in DRC - photo intentionally obscuring their faces

When I met recently with a focus group of women in DRC who had been raped, I closed the session by thanking them and letting them know that for a long time the world had scarcely known of the tragedies happening in Congo, that today people are starting to listen. They are starting to hear the stories of women being brutally raped, and they are appalled. It may not be everything, but it is part of bringing hope to the Congo.

Miel

Vicarious Nomad

2010-02-28T20:44:00.005-05:00

According to Wikipedia, nomadic people are communities of people who move from one place to another, rather than settling permanently in one location. There are an estimated 30-40 million nomads in the world.

There are certainly many differences from traditional nomadic populations and those of us who globe trot around the world, but there are also commonalities.

As I pack my bag tonight for another trip back to DR Congo, my nomadic tendencies kick in. Similar to those that have survived on the road for centuries, I consider what is necessity for my journey, and what can be left behind to lighten my load. After years of practice, I've perfected the art of packing. (more on this soon)

I might be reloading my iPod list, and they packing up yurts, but the principle is the same.

When I started this blog about two and a half years ago, I did so as a means to communicate with my friends and family and share my adventures on the road as I headed off to Afghanistan and Southeast Asia. As time has passed and more people have found my blog, I've also found more of my voice and my passion for writing and bringing home the world.

I've changed the name of my blog, from Where in the World is Miel, to Vicarious Nomad, as a way to share those adventures with the wider world. If you love to travel and learn about the world, but your life doesn't allow to tromp off on a moment's notice to the heart of Africa, then you can follow along when I do.

I travel to the most difficult places on earth so you don't have to.

Likewise, if you do travel far and wide, you can follow along the adventures of another wandering soul.

Please leave comments and share your thoughts on my adventures, good, bad, or otherwise. It helps to encourage my writing and know that people are out there listening. You can also sign up to receive posts automatically, maximum once per day. Lastly you can share with friends and follow along.

Thanks for reading.

Safe journey,

Miel

P.S. In honor of my friend nomadic adventures, I've included the Sami people of Lapland. I wish I had my old school pictures to scan the one of me at 16 with one of these great hats!

Best of Photos - DRC 2010

2010-02-15T13:36:00.003-05:00

Here are a select few of my recent trip to DRC. If you are interested in checking out the expanded selection, still drastically pair down from the original 500 photos, you can check out DRC photos here.

I never get tired of this view, even after eight hours in a car! South Kivu, DRC on the road to Chambucha.

I love the diversity of cows around the world!

Girl accessing water in our newly built gravity fed water filtration system.

The bridge to Chambucha, which goes out often and needs repair.

Miel washing her face in our new water point.

Mosque in Kisangani.

Typical house in rural DRC.

Taking goods to market.

Giorgio & Miel on bridge over Congo River.

Bridge over Oso River as we left le zone rogue.

DRC flag over Lake Kivu.

Laundry time in Bukavu. Love the remnants of colonial architecture.

Lovely Lake Kivu, access from our office/guesthouse.

Stuck again.

DRC, one of the most beautiful places on earth.

Morning on Lake Kivu.

Enjoy and leave comments to tell me which are our favorites so I can take more next time!

Miel

Oasis en Route

2010-02-08T04:14:00.003-05:00

Blissfully reporting from podland.

It make take 60 hrs for me to get from DRC to DC, but the only silver lining is the blissful invention of the airport hotel, by the hour.

This is my first time taking advantage of this option, available for lay-overs of more than 8 hrs. It certainly won't be my last. Very well worthwhile in terms of refreshing.

I'm headed for a long Euro style shower now, so I'll keep this short.

Awww,

Miel

Heart of Darkness

2010-02-04T07:24:00.006-05:00

I've been bringing back the world for the last 17 years and it never gets old. I started as a return Rotary exchange student who was encouraged to share about my experiences in Finland. I later went on to continue this tradition as I came to visit schools in traditional Ghanaian clothe and carrying a basket on my head. Last year was sharing about Afghanistan. Tonight was on skype to a class of Seniors at my home town high school.

The class sent me a few of their questions in advance, so I decided to share some of my responses with you as well. They are reading Heart of Darkness and are interested in the affects of colonialsim in Congo.

How has colonialism changed the Congo?
Congo wouldn't be what it is today without colonialism; for better and worse. It is like asking what America would be like without pioneers. You simply can't say. The remnants of colonialism are clear though. In Bukavu, where I am at the moment, you have the first movie theatre in Africa, where in the 1950s you had 40,000 Belgians living on the beautiful lakeside of Bukavu in houses that look like they've been imported straight from Europe. The houses remain, but many have not been maintained well in the last 60 years plus. In cities like Kinshasa and Kisangani, you have very colonial feeling cities, with wide boulevards and European architecture.

How has Africa become more developed over the years or is still like it's pictured in Heart of Darkness?
It is certainly more developed in many areas, but in others I'm certain the feel of the outside world is more of a mythical presence. In the cities you have everyone with mobile phones, as landline technology really never made it to most places in Africa. Congo may have influences of the West, but in reality noone could say that it is developed under any standards. It would fit the definitions of undeveloped and underdeveloped in many more places than it would the status of "developing." We are trying, but it is a slow process. Quite frankly, it is hard to develop a place that is still at war. This is a lesson we learn daily in places like Afghanistan, Iraq and Sudan as well.

Is the widespread disease in Africa really as bad as the media portrays it?
Yes, I would for a medical organization, and though we do all that we can to help, it is still not enough. Congo is ranked 188 out of 190 countries for being the worse off in terms of health. It is estimated that 37 to 75% of the population have no access to health care. When I first saw the clinic that we support I was quite critical in thinking that we could do more. Now that I have had the opportunity to see clinics that are not supported by international organizations, I see how much of a difference we truly make. In the clinics that we are moving in to now, there is literally a bed of hay for patients and women giving birth.

What's it like living in the Congo?
This, of course, depends on who you ask. Since I can't really say for sure what it is like for a typical Congolese person (as there is a huge variation between classes), I will speak for myself. It still depends greatly. A year ago we had very intermittent electricity, internet, and water. Nothing was a given. There was never hot water. Now we've managed to improve things a great deal. I went with a cold shower for nearly a month, but managed to get that sorted out as well. The internet has been reliable most of the time, as you can see from our skpye call. I have a great team that I'm working with here, both national and expatriate (the term for foreigners living in other countries). Our Country Director is so funny that he has us rolling in laughter most nights at dinner, and tonight I just returned for a fun match of pool against another couple of NGO types. I really enjoy being in Congo. It is a lot of work, but it feels very well worth it at the end of the day. Last year when I was here for two months, I worked 16 hrs a day everyday, now I've trimmed that back to 12 and it feels managable.

What languages do people speak?
Congo is the size of Western Europe or the US East of the Mississippi, so there are a great number of languages traditionally. The most commonly used, depending on where you live, are Ki-Congo, Shilubu, Lingali, or Ki-Swahili. French is the official language. You will be lucky to find someone with a few words of English outside of the professional arena.

What do people eat there?
Congolese, as other traditional African foods, are made of only whole foods. There is nothing processed in the diet here. Only the most elite would choose to eat the locally made cheese here that is a luxury not available in most other places in Africa. Starches are big here, meaning plaintains (large bananas that aren't sweet), cassava (starch like potatoes but with no flavor). As expats we eat much better, but still limited in nature. Our cook pretty much alternates between rice and pizza, and on a lucky day we get an excellent fruit salad.

What's the climate?
Since Congo is so vast, this depends on where you are. Tonight, here in Bukavu, it is cool after the rains; somewhere in the 70s. It is high in elevation, and most days are mild; in comparison to the snow that is dumping in DC at the moment, I have nothing to complain about here in my sandals. In Kinshasa it is very hot, and you are pretty much sweating all of the time.

How is life there different than life in Days Creek?
There is really not much that is similar. As I've learned in all places around the globe, the only thing that stays the is consistent, is yourself. It look me awhile to understand what was meant by the quote, "Wherever you go, there you are." Only your perspective on life and how you handle things remains the same. In terms of other things, not much is the same. My clothes are different, language is different, daily habits are different, etc.

If you could change one thing about life in the Congo what would you change?
I would master the art of quantum physics and be able to go back and forth between Congo and home more often. I love Congo, but sometimes you are needed at home as well.

Have you read Heart of Darkness? IS the Congo really like that?
I have to admit that I haven't read the Heart of Darkness. You've inspired me to check this out form the library as soon as I return. I will report back here and let you know what my thoughts are. From my guess, however, I anticipate that in many ways it was as described and in other ways it was nowhere like described.

How has the Congo effected you emotionally?
Congo tugs at my heart strings. Congo gets under you skin. Someone at an expat party last week said that Congo was like Fabio (the romance icon); you didn't know why you were attracted to it, but you are. I can't say that I'm attracted to Fabio, but I can say that Congo pulls me in ways that seem impossible. The need here is simply so great. It makes we want to dedicate my life to making a difference in the lives of those who have everything against them.

What are the people like? Are they simply savages like in the book?
Congolese are certianly not savages. From a western perspective though, imposing our standards makes them seem like savages still today. I will say that there are certain acts, by a relative minority, that are extremely savagelike. There are still massacres, beheadings, and violent, violent rapes. I cannot defend this as being unsavage. I'm certain that there are extreme conditions and circumstances, but that cannot be condoned. There are also many traditions that Westerns would find as savage like; forced marriage, incest, Most Congolese, however, are very hardworking people who are simply doing what they can to survive. A small minority are more priveledged and enjoy a lifestyle with some Western aminities. I can also say that indeed, the behavior of colonists was often savage in its definition. Cruel and demoralizing.

Are there still tribes in the Congo? Have you met with any of the native tribes?
There are some, but in very remote areas. Pigmies, who live in the forest, are the ones you hear about the most. Most Congolese will tell you that they still live like savages. I've met a few pigmies, but those who are on our staff and aren't exactly living a traditional lifestyle.

Are you worried about your safety?
I've been very fortunate to have never been in a truly life threatening situation. I am, however, cohnizant of the reality that I often put myself at risk on a daily basis when I am in the field. I manage those risk and listen to my intuition, but I certainly wouldn't stay at home to be safe. You can read my post about the "zone rouge" to learn more about some of those risks.

Did the colonists really treat the Africans as badly as they do in the book?
Yes, I'm most certain that they did. It was really, truly, disgraceful. There is nothing to defend it from my view. I'm interested to read Heart of Darkness and then give my feedback.

Best,

Miel

Twins in Africa

2010-02-03T02:10:00.001-05:00

Being a twin, I tend to spot others more easily. This pair of twins wasn't hard to notice here in DRCongo.

Living in Ghana as a Peace Corps Volunteer, being a twin took on even more of a special meaning. Ghana has the highest number of twins per capita in the world, and they believe that they are good luck.

Specific names are given both to twins, siblings that come after twins, mothers of twin, etc. My name in Ghana was either Ama Atta Kakra or Ama Woeta, depending on if I was in a Twi or Ewe speaking area. This meant that I was the younger female twin born on Saturday.

Since people knew just from hearing my name that I was a twin, people would often ask me about it. In the Volta region, where I lived, there is also a special brown and white beaded bracelet that twins wear. This meant that as I moved along in public transport or in the market, people would comment on my bracelet. Of course they would be even more surprised when I turned around and started talking to them in the local language.

In the market they would always ask me where my sister was, since they could fathom why we were joined at the hip. So each market day I would go through the ritual greeting of them asking me where my twin was, and me telling them that she was at home. When she came to visit Ghana, and joined me in the market, the ladies nearly fell over with joy that she had come to visit.

In the village I also had special moms who were the mothers of twins. If one twin dies, the mother keeps a small wooden statue of the twin, and wears the bracelet typically worn by the twin. The first time I saw this I was so surprised, as the woman had very little in her sparse hearth area, but there was the little wooden doll with a bracelet matching to mine within easy reach of her daily cooking duties.

I feel honored to be a twin in general, but finding them around the world is an excellent treat.

Miss you sis!

Miel

Dukes of Hazards

2010-02-02T02:50:00.007-05:00

Life in general certainly has its hazard, no matter where you. I don't believe that anyone who has travelled to developing countries would disagree with the notion that there are simply more risks in certain places in the world. In the West, we try our best to mitigate risk and make things as safe as possible. To that degree, we have whole sectors of business and government dedicated to managing risk.

Out here in the rest of the world, you are on your own. It is up to the individual to watch out for the minefields of life, sometimes quiet literally.

Here are some of the things that must be paid attention to:

Watch where you step. This might seem like a no brainer, but you'd be surprised at how accustomed one can become to a relatively level playing field. One thing that I notice all the time in Africa is that there is rarely symmetry in stairs. This means that one step might be huge, and then the next short. If you are used to standard stairs, this may throw you off badly.

Mind the Gap. Open gutters often abound. In Peace Corps we called the sport "gutter diving." Luckily I've managed not to become victim myself, but I know friend who have gone in with bikes and simply been swallowed by them whole.

Watch what you eat. Some extra ants or bugs in the food is often just added protein around these parts, and actually doesn't cause much reason for concern. However, there are plenty of ways to get sick in places like Africa. Some simple things you can do are pay attention to where the food is coming from (i.e. does the vendor have filthy hands?), always eat hot food while it is still hot (as this helps to reduce the likelihood of bacteria growing), wash your fruits and veggies well (or better yet peel), and use your gut (if you are thinking this might not be safe to eat, it might very well not be). I follow these simple cues that I learned in Peace Corps and I am very lucky to avoid tummy issues while traveling.

Mind the wildlife. Obviously Africa is known for having a fair bit of wildlife. Most of these can unfortunately only be found in game parks, but there are still plenty of factors in this category. As was pointed out in the snake park that I visited recently in Zimbabwe, there are plenty of these that can kill you quickly. Scorpions are the one that I had many run ins with as a Peace Corps Volunteer. In reality you are more likely to face hazards like leeches crawling into places you don't want them, or that sort of thing. In fact, we had a hilariously told story of such an unfortunate incident to one of my team members here. While it was no laughing matter in reality, he had us crying with laughter at the tale of it. The cute little 2 month old lion that I'm holding in my profile photo also bit me, so be ware of who you decide cuddle with!

Mind the Mozzies. They might seem like a small threat, but there are 250 million cases of malaria annually, with one million deaths globally. Some people who travel a lot are blase about taking prophylaxis. I'm still a big proponent of prevention. I had a fellow volunteer who became one of those statistics, and I'd rather use the means available to me than to fall sick and not be able to do my job. Reminds me that I need to take my weekly pill today!

Be Prepared. As I posted on the other day, there are times when you need to improvise. Some common preparedness is always having something that will pass for toilet paper. I have the habit of hanging on to all of the extra napkins that I end up getting on flights and stashing them in my purse for later; they often come in very handy. Another folly that I've learned from, is to always turn on the water before touching the soap, as too often there is no water.

Learn to Balance. For women in particular, learning the art of hovering over nasty toilets or holes in the ground. We made jokes in South America that it got easier as you went, since starting in Ecuador you had to hover over toilets, but the further south we went, the toilets disappeared and it was easier to over a hole. My most famous experience in this art was in Fiji. I was in need of using the facilities, but they were themselves pretty nasty. The floor was soaked, and I couldn't exactly put my pack down. This meant that I had to balance with my fifty pound pack while squatting. Not an ease feat, but good for the thigh muscles! Aside from the ick factor of many toilet seats, plenty of them (including my office here in DRC) have seats that are plastic and break easily. This means that they pinch your bum as well!

Beware of Scams. While you can be scammed anywhere, this tends to be easier when you are in a place that you don't actually know the cost of something. Often it is is well meaning enough, just trying to get as much out of you as possible, but sometimes it can be more serious scams. You can certainly get screwed out of more money than you should be. To give an example, I bought a mask on this trip for a family member. The guy wanted $45 and I ended up paying $13.

It is not worth it. At the end of the day, if you do run into a situation of some kind. Give them what they want, as your life isn't worth it. I travel with the guide that if I'd be heart broken if I lost it, I don't bring it in the first place. I might have a relatively expensive camera, but it is replaceable.

Be careful of your heart. Now as a married woman I forget the landmines of love, but they were all over when I was a young single traveler. Relationships abroad are certainly part of the experience, but use common sense and protect yourself.

Use Common Sense. Above all, use your brain. If you are suspicious, then there is probably good reason to follow your gut. We called this the "stupidity tax" if you aren't paying attention, you'll likely end up sick and in a gutter.

Readers: I'd love to hear your tips on how to stay safe when traveling, or any fun tales about what can happen when you aren't so lucky.

Safe travels,

Miel

Impunity

2010-02-01T02:10:00.003-05:00

Impunity is something that is mentioned often when discussing the issue of sexual violence in the Democratic Republic of Congo. It is thrown around at Congressional hearings and discussed at round tables of well-meaning NGO types like myself.

According to the dictionary, it means:

1.	exemption from punishment.

2.	immunity from detrimental effects, as of an action.

The nightmare that exist here in the Congo is much, much worse than that.

Exempt from punishment doesn't begin to describe. We met last week with a lawyer in Kisangani, the focal point for Sexual and Gender Based Violence - otherwise known as SGBV - a neat and tidy acronym that is used to refer to atrocities of the worst kind against humanity.

About three quarters of the way through the meeting, I paused. Contemplating what to do next. Most often when I'm meeting with a stakeholder of some kind, my aim is to get their opinions and ideas about how to address programmatic issues to ensure that the design of our interventions are sound. In this case it was clear that the solutions were far from within reach.

The basic situation around the legal aspect of sexual violence goes something like this here in DRC. A man attacks a woman on her way back from farm or collecting firewood, a child is molested by their relative or community member, a teen is chosen for marriage by being violently attacked and raped; the scenarios are endless, and all equally disturbing.

From there, most of the time women and girls will say nothing and do nothing. There are medical interventions that can help to prevent pregnancy and the transmission of HIV if the case is reported with 72 hours; this rarely, rarely happens.

It is easier to say nothing. That is unless there are consequences that can't be hidden, such as pregnancy. According to the stats, the number of women that become pregnant due to rape in DRC seem extraordinarily high; unless you realize that this is just because women were more likely to report as they couldn't go on unnoticed by the community.

Dr. Mkwege, who has become famous for his life and disgrace saving interventions to repair traumatic fistula cases, puts it pretty bluntly. Women don't come unless they are bleeding. Unless is it so bad that they can't take it. Otherwise they suffer in silence or deal with it amongst female family members.

If they come forward and they are a woman, they are likely to be thrown out of the house by their husbands and families. There have been cases known where community leaders have forced raped women to walk through the community naked to show their disgrace even more publicly.

If it is a teen aged girl, the consequences are extreme. Culturally the answer is that if a girl comes forward, they will be forced to marry the rapist. Some even say that this is how a man is able to select their wife. If they are able to rape the girl, then she is his; if she gets away then she has refused the marriage.

After the initial ordeal of dealing with the trauma and stigma of being raped, most do not pursue legal prosecution. If they do, the cycle of abuse just really continues further. Hopefully survivors will have access to programs that help provide assistance to pursue prosecution, but these are still few and far between.

If they don't have assistance, they will have to pay for the lawyers, judges, transportation fees, to get the rapist to court, the list of expenses goes on. Then the perpetrator will most likely do his own part to pay off the various players; the judge, the lawyers, or even the doctor to change the medical paperwork to make the case disappear.

If a case is successfully prosecuted, you might be lucky if the man stays in jail for a night or two. They will either be released within a couple of days, because the jails are too full, or they will escape since there is extremely poor security to retain prisoners.

They walk free. Right back into the communities where they raped the woman in the first place.

That is the definition of impunity.

Miel

Nothing But Forest

2010-01-31T06:06:00.000-05:00

As we traversed between Kisangani, and Walikale, approximately 600 miles. In 8 hrs of driving, there was nothing but jungle surrounding us. As you can imagine, it was an incredibly beautiful drive.

As we drive along this beautiful road, at some point I start to notice the complete lack of traffic. We literally drive hours at a time without passing a car. Only in the outback of Australia have I ever seen so little traffic. At certain stretches, there are plenty of people, walking along the road with their wares and harvests. But there are no cars. None.

On the way there, we pass one UN convoy, and little else. There are no trucks hauling goods, no buses or mini-vans. Nada. On the way back, we pass one bus. On other roads in Congo I had noticed the lack of vehicles, but had chucked it up to horrible roads. And yet, with the most beautiful road around, there was still nothing.

This picture gives you a good sense of what the road did look like.Flying out of Kisangani, back to Goma, it was even more awe inspiring from the air. As we lifted off it was clearly that the entire city was tightly surrounded by trees. The first stretch had chunks taken out here and there, still relatively small for the size of the forest.

Within a couple of minutes there was truly nothing but forest. No marks of civilization whatsoever. As we gained in elevation, the forest took on the feel of a massive head of broccoli, the texture of the forest creating ridges. I watch for as long as I could before we were too high in altitude and the clouds took over the forest.

Coming out of the clouds nearly two hours later, still nothing but forest. Solid, massive forest. A reminder of why the Congo River Basin is still one of the earth’s best defenses to climate change.

Eventually scars of humanity appear on the landscape. We are coming closer to so called, civilization.

Lake Kivu appears, brilliant and shining like a sapphire. We head up the lake towards Goma, and the lake feels impossibly long. It keeps on and on, taking on the appearance of an ocean, at times, rather than a lake.

Alas Goma appears in the distance. The wheels on the ancient Russian airliner drop down. The bizarre gingerbread houses of Goma appear below; their multiple eves and columns supposedly representing some kind of western architecture that actually doesn’t exist in the west. Then markets, and garbage mounds, and bam, we are on the tarmac landing into Goma’s International Airport.

What a flight. Certainly one I will remember for years to come.

Miel

Avatar

2010-01-30T04:51:00.002-05:00

As I’m cruising through the hours of endless forest, I stop to consider how crazy it is that one day I’m, for instance people watching in the affluence of Friendship Heights, DC, and then next in the heart of Africa. In both places just as comfortable, yet transformed like a chameleon between the two; different clothes, different language, different approach.

I realized that my life was very much like being an avatar, putting on a different persona depending on where it is that I’m working. Certainly, like as in avatars, there are many similarities, but unique in an of itself. Ask family who have visited me in the places where I have lived, and they will tell you that I’m a different version of myself. Still true to myself, but adapted to the circumstances and context.

In looking at the analogy of the movie Avatar, I realized how much more my life resembles that movie; and perhaps why it resonated more with me than I thought it would.

For those who haven’t seen the movie, the premise - without giving too much away - is that humans travel between two worlds, taking on characteristics of their host environment to adapt and integrate themselves. The ultimate goal of course, in the movie is to extract riches from beneath the soil of the forest dwelling society that lives in harmony with the earth. The humans of course, can’t understand why this society doesn’t want their roads and schools.

At first I consider, as I have plenty of time driving through the forest, that the people of Congo are different – at least at present time – in that they aren’t a peaceful earth loving society. They are at war with each other and lack basic human rights, an governmental, education, judicial, and civil society systems as a whole. So in that way, the parallel is a bit different.

While at first I considered that I, myself as an aid worker, am here to provide support and assistance, rather than the aim of extracting wealth. This again parallels the movie, in that I might be blindly going along my path thinking that I’m working with the best interest of this society in mind, but while at the same time inadvertently helping those who seek the wealth.

In reality though, whether I like it or not, I can’t recues myself of the atrocities that take place in DRC because of mineral extraction. As we speak, I’m charging my iPod, writing on my laptop, and have my cell phone available for calls; all of which use materials that come from here in DRC. Thus, while I’d like to absolve myself, that isn’t so easy in today’s world.

What to do with this analogy is the next hard question that I haven’t sorted out. For now I continue to live between two worlds and wonder how the two intersect. What will come of that is anyone’s guess.

Miel

MacGyver Moves

2010-01-29T04:46:00.001-05:00

One big part of traveling, particularly to the places that I go to, is the need to go with the flow and improvise when need be. For those of you who are Americans, or lived through the 80s, you might know of MacGyver, who was legendary at fixing anything with a little improvising, as the world was threatened to come to an end around him.

In the field it is good to keep in mind MacGyver moves, as you never know when you’ll need them.

The other night when I tried to take a shower after a long day on the road, the water pressure was abysmal. Water pressure is something you don’t even pay attention to, unless you don’t have it.

In this case, it was one of those systems where it is a bathtub with a showerhead on a cord that is too short to hold above your head. Yet, with the water pressure as bad as it was, it was barely at a dribble initially and then stopped flowing entirely if it went above the level of the faucet. This meant, that even squatting, I had to bend my head all the way down just to get a dribble of water. Knowing a dying cause when I saw one, I opted to just get my hair wet and see what I could manage in the morning.

I ended up getting a bucket from the front desk, but they didn’t have a cup to scoop the water in to have a bucket bath. After looking around for what might pass as a scooper, I took matters into my own hands.

Finding a broken piece of the TV antennae, I used this to stab through an empty water bottle and rip off the top half to make it into an improvised cup. In the mean time I was filling the bucket with water, as the dribble was so slow that it took 15 minutes to fill a bucket.

But alas, a shower! The water was even warm; my first hot “shower” since arriving in DRC. Life is good.

Miel

King Leopold’s Ghost

2010-01-28T03:53:00.003-05:00

Part of me wonders what it was like in the colonial and pre-colonial era. A book called King Leopold's Ghost, by Adam Hochschild, has been on my wishlist to read for some time. I imagine it would give insight into the roots of Congo.

Looking at the once beautiful colonial housing along the vast Congo river, I imagine it was a beautiful city in its hay-day. However, at that time, during the reign of King Leopold, things were anything but beautiful. Attributed to the slaughter of millions people, and the degradation of society, King Leopold’s mark on history is being rewritten in European history books. However, in the city where he once reeked havoc, they still have a statue in his honor.

Then I wonder what it was like before colonialism. One could say that parts of Congo have been less affected by outside influences, but I don’t believe that even the most remote of places in Congo have existed in a vacuum. They have certainly felt the impact of colonialism and the outside world, even if they haven’t reaped the benefits.

I imagine that parts of the culture have indeed been maintained, but I believe that a great deal has been degraded through now decades of fighting. On the one side you have ethnic tensions driving the on-going militant battles in Eastern DRC, stemming from the days of the Rwandan genocide.

Today you have people just trying to survive. Last night I looked at a hand written letter, as is the normal means of official communication here in DRC, that was from a community that we help serve, to the government. They letter basically said that the FARDC (the Congolese army) was not serving its duty to protect the people of this village. They requested that the government remove the inept army, causing more harm than good, and let them defend themselves against the various rebel armies in the area.

It is a sad state of affairs when lack of government pushes people to defend their homes or flee. Yet this is an ongoing part of life for far too many people in Eastern DRC.

Given brutal past and present, it is hard to envision Congo pulling out of such historical pressures. It is hard to differentiate the effects of colonialism when they are now such a part of the global story. One thing is true in Congo, you can feel the ghost of colonialism like an unshakable presence.

Miel

Checkpoint Charlie

2010-01-27T06:19:00.002-05:00

We stop at one of many check points where they are surprised to see a couple of white people, particularly a woman. Most ask us for where we are coming and going, and explaining that we are relief workers, they send us on our way after attempts in vain for a small dash of a bribe. They wave us through, advising that for the moment all is calm.

We pass into what our driver calls the “zone rouge”, or the red zone. Mile after mile the villages are deserted. The empty homes for a stretch of about twenty miles was a tell tale enough sign that things were not as they should be. Swathes of the road are littered in ammo shells from recent fighting. Casing crunch under our tires and hope the silence will continue.

Though all was calm for the moment, I knew that things could change quickly. Our team passed through the same area the day before, and were caught in the middle of the fighting, pulling a truck driver that had been shot out of his vehicle and taking him back for medical assistance.

There are reminders of those who fled. A small shoe of a toddler on the road, left exposed and abandoned. A woman’s plastic woven purse with its remnants scattered about make me wonder of her fate. Was she like so many Congolese women who are forced into the forest by militants and kept for weeks as a sex slave until they tire of her?

The rest of the community fled. According to the reports, 4,000 people fled in one direction, and anther 6,000 in the other direction. Adding to the numbers of internally displaced people who must call upon the kindness of their neighbors to help support them in their time of need.

Why do they fight? The answers are unclear. At the time, when the war is technically over, it seems that they fight largely because they can. With no certain victory at stake, it seems they fight because that is what militants do. What else are you supposed to do with your gun but use it?

Miel

Wild West of Congo - Orientale Province

2010-01-26T03:32:00.004-05:00

When we arrived in Kinsangani, Orientale Province of DRC, it was clear right away that things were different. The city reminded me immediately of Kinshasa and Bujumbura, with its wide boulevards and colonial feel. In fact, the city feels as though it never left the colonial era.

Most of the buildings date back to the colonial period, and thanks to the excellent architecture of the day, are still structurally sound after a century. Though they appear as though they haven’t been painted or maintained since then, that is merely the affect that Congo has on things. The only proof of maintenance is that the city would have been covered over by jungle had it not been maintained!
We hit the ground running, meeting with various contacts to discuss the situation around sexual violence in Orientale province. By the time the afternoon was over, it was clear that things were a bit different here. Each person echoed what the last had said, pointing out the reality that Orientale remains an untouched zone of DRC. People pointed to Goma and Bukavu, as the civilized areas of Eastern DRC; explaining that the reality of the area was due to a high level of ignorance.

Looking at the statistics given to us for the area, it was clear that we were dealing with something different here. Whereas most of the media around sexual violence in DRC revolves around the violent and public attacks by militants against women to break down the community structure, there is another more private horror occurring.

The data was clear, there are high numbers of molestation and incest happening in this area. The majority of reported cases were against children, as they are more likely to speak up or face medical issues due to rape. Women are better at hiding it to protect against stigma and loosing what little they do have. Month after month you scroll through the data to see crimes against 3 year olds, 5 year olds, you hear about stories where an 8 year old was discovered when her entire insides were destroyed. It is painful just to here such stories.

Then we move on to discuss the legal aspect of sexual violence. I’ll do an additional post about this, as there is too much to say just here. But suffice to say, that the entire legal system is broken. The lawyer we spoke with says that the only thing in their favor is that the laws exist to prohibit sexual violence, other than that, the rest is simply broken.

Next we spoke to a foreign priest who has been living in Kisangani for the last 24 years. He shakes his head as he says that he cannot begin to describe the horrors that he witnessed during the war. He says that after the war, international actors appeared, but the local population was only willing to take their money, and nothing else. Since then they've basically chased out the NGOs, leaving mainly the UN and International Red Cross as major actors. Clearly there is a great need for assistance, but a lack of willingness or interest to accept such help.

So for now, Orientale remains a relatively untouched area of the world. But then again, it is not untouched. It clearly bares the marks and scars of colonialism, but without the benefits of a functional government, legal, education, health, or any other system. Clearly things are different here.

Miel

Monkeys and Bananas

2010-01-25T01:35:00.000-05:00

A key learning in my masters level ethics class was the relativity that perspective brings to the discussion. Sure we can say what is right and wrong, but it all depends on where you are standing. In field of international development this is a tenuous line that we walk. As always, I've been using my experiences in the field to reflect on the imposition on other cultures, and the equally challenging issue of using culture as an excuse to leave things as they are.

For example, we stopped the other day in Lubutu, DRC to grab some bananas and peanuts for lunch on the road to Walikale. At first there seems a scarcity of bananas by that time in the day, but we managed to find one market woman who had a pile of bananas.

These bananas, according to American standards, were about the ugliest ones you could manage to find. They were green as could be, and covered in dark brown bruises. Most muzungus, or foreigners, would have taken a pass on such bad looking bananas.

Break into one of these bananas and you’ll find a tastier banana than possible to find in a supermarket in the states, where beautifully engineered bananas now lack all real flavor of a banana. Flavorful and delectable, we plowed through all that the woman had to offer.

The next day, on our return back from Walikale to Kisangani, we stopped again at the same market for bananas and peanuts. In a chipper mood, after having spotted passion fruit to add to the lunch menu, I was taken aback by what I spotted next to our purchase of bananas.

Ironically, in the stall next to the bananas, was the skewered and practically charcoaled monkey, whose face was still screaming out in pain. If I wasn’t appalled enough by this, there were several more monkeys ready to be barbequed underneath the table. Later on the road we saw a group of kids holding up a monkey on a string for sale.

The man at the market stall clearly saw from my expression that I was not impressed by the monkey on a stick. His response was that it was a way to make money. For him and the kids on the road it was like finding a winning lotto ticket on the way home, there is no way they would pass that up.

While I certainly cannot condone the slaughter of wild game in Congo, I have also learned that I can’t expect otherwise. While I see the loss of wildlife as a detriment to the environment, they see it as a means of survival. Considering that the Congolese people cannot even protect themselves from massacres and the decimation of communities, it is unlikely that the monkeys and antelope will fair any better.

The monkey and the banana are the two ends of an extreme. The one being hard to swallow, literally – as it appeared you’d have to crew for days just to get it down, and the other being the folly of expecting that perfection on the outside means flavor on the inside.

There are also two lessons here. The first is to look carefully and remind oneself to try and reserve judgment and be open to new cultures.

The second is that once you’ve taken an adequate assessment of the situation, taking care to ask appropriate questions to a variety of people, you also can’t let cultural perspective be a crutch for allowing certain practices to occur.

While on the one side I’m against jumping into judgment to assist, for example, by providing agricultural assistance to “improve” the bananas in Congo; on the other you can’t stand back and say that the wildlife aren’t in need of protection.

There is a fine line in the “development” of the world. As aid workers, we tread this line each day, evaluating the banana and the monkey.

Miel

Saving Cute African Babies (SCAB)

2010-01-20T03:18:00.001-05:00

The NGO world is full of acronyms. It is also full of pictures of cute children from around the world. One day at the office we were remarking how it seems there must be nothing but cute children, as these are all that you see in the glossy brochures.

As the conversation digressed, we contemplated a new hypothetical program that we coined jokingly, Saving Cute African Babies (SCAB). This can also be changed to fit the context, i.e. Saving Cute Asia, Afghan or Angolan Babies.

In honor of SCAB, here are a few of the latest cuties in my album of cute children from around the globe.

Enjoy,

Miel

Now There is Light

2010-01-19T14:59:00.003-05:00

I feel absolutely blessed to have a career that satisfies, challenges, and inspires. You can’t get much better than that. When I look back at the path I have chosen, I realize that I could never have imagined that I’d be paid to perform such incredible work. I am fortunate.

The people I help assist often are not. I work with people in some of the most difficult places on earth, where just being born in such places reduces the likelihood of positive life outcomes. As a woman in Congo the odds are stacked against you. You are more likely to be raped, die in childbirth, loose a child, go hungry, be married off at a young age, be beaten, you name it. As a man you may become a child soldier or a perpetrator of violent sexual abuse against women; and you’ll most likely have difficulty providing for family.

Despite all of this, there is hope.

Last year I visited a hospital that was completely deserted because of word spreading of militias in the area who were raping, pillaging, and burning communities along their path. While the doctor on the premises is eager and hard working, he faces continued challenges.

Last year it was pitch black in the hospital when we showed up at dusk and toured the empty compound. Now thanks to our work there is a generator providing power at night for emergency surgeries such as the c-section that took place the night I was there. A year ago this would have been performed by lantern and flashlight. Now there is light.

The woman was one of the success stories, where both her and her child survived. In Congo you can’t take that for granted.

Miel

Familiar in the Unfamiliar

2010-01-12T14:36:00.002-05:00

Technically Kenya doesn't yet count on my list of 53 countries that I've traveled to. And yet, when I arrive at the airport only a six weeks after having been here, everything is suddenly familiar. I recall the toilet that surprisingly for an otherwise modern airport has one stall for squatting, rather than an actually toilet. I then head straight for the wifi and BLT sandwich I recall from my last eight hour stint here.

The more I travel the more supposedly unfamiliar places become the norm. Places that once would have seemed that they could be nothing but foreign are instead like being in my old stomping ground.

When I'm in Amsterdam I'm reminded of my departure as a Peace Corps Volunteer, and when I travel through Brussels I have my designated bench that I pass out on for several hours and wake up to a terminal swarming with people who wonder how I can sleep through it all. I step off the plane in Afghanistan and it all comes back to me. The world is a massive and diverse place, but it is also extremely small and familiar as well.

I enjoy the journey wherever I am. Traveling for 48hrs straight, and then continuing out into the bush on one of the worse roads on earth is not something most people would sign up for. What can I say? It is simply my life and what makes me, me. Do what works for you.

Safe Journey,

Miel

Making Connections Wherever I Am

2010-01-12T14:17:00.004-05:00

I officially have one of the worse flight schedules possible, but it still doesn't compare to those who first circumnavigated the globe. I've got for flights this time around - DC - Amsterdam - Nairobi - Bujumbura - Kigali and then drive six hours to Bukavu, DRC tomorrow. All in all about 48 hours, but still a record when you think of the real distance.

As I take another trip around the globe, I'm continually intrigued by the phenomenon of flight. Just a century ago flying was looked as something as out of this world as connecting to you from Nairobi would have been a few decades back. Our norms have also changed socially during travel.

One of the things that I was chatting with my husband about recently is that people don't talk on planes these days. I can't say that I'm not guilty of this either. I've spent numerous trips around the globe not talking to anyone.

It is a bit of a bizarre phenomenon when you think of it. Most people are doing something interesting that is taking then from here to there. We all have a story, and from all edges of the earth. Why don't we speak up and share a bit, even if it is just small talk?

This time around I ended up having several good conversations. One in line boarding the flight to Nairobi, and the other on the flight itself. The first was sparked by the woman and I having the same bag, and noting its popularity. The second was even more interesting. The woman actually broke all social norms and actually started talking to me during meal service when I had my headphones in. The conversation was much more interesting than the cartoon they had on. She was coming from Indianapolis to pick up her three year old daughter who had been in Kenya since Christmas and go to her brother's wedding, while being fully pregnant as well.

Having had many a flight with no contact at all, it was refreshing to share a bit and have some interaction. My goal on this trip is to be more social as I travel. Traveling can often bring out the introvert in me, as I spend hours in deep thought all up in my head. It is often a time of reflection, but it is also helpful to connect with others around you. You never know who you might meet.

Safe travels,

Miel

Vicarious Nomad

Comeback Kid

Amen, Omen

Forced Slow Down

Respect our Roots

Wally Jones Passing On

Friends and family: Wally's Wake tonight @ Sam Bond's 6 p.m.Come celebrate his life, share stories, and reunite at his favorite watering hole.

Timelapse Flight

Royal Wedding Crashing

Owen & Mzee

Relaxing in Mombasa

Somaliland

Snippets of Travel in East Africa

Achieving Buoyancy

Akuna Matata – Zanzibar Style

Diving into the Blue of Zanzibar

Day Two in Zanzibar

Zanzibar Next Stop!

Back on the Road

Best Vacations Ever

Santa Elena Reserve, Monteverde, Costa Rica

Forest Train Ride Monteverde, Costa Rica

El Trapiche Tour

Thanksgiving in Costa Rica

Comic Relief

Mount Nyiragongo

Bonobos!

Media Attention to Congo

Tragedy in Paradise

Honoring International Humanitarian Day

So No to Conflict Minerals

Fashion Flashbacks

Chobe National Park

Rafting the Great Zambezi

Clash of Counter-Bureaucracy and Development

Travel Tips for Victoria Falls

Incredible Victoria Falls

World Cup Finale

World Cup Fever

Travel Update

You Say It's Your Birthday!

Minerals

Making News

On the Road Again

Passing through Stuttgart

Walking to Work

Moving in Circles in the City

Another Nomad in the Family

Time Zones

In Her Element

Residency in Congo

Toy Soliders

Fishnets and Corsets

First Female King in Ghana

Influx of Whites to Rwanda

Ni Paix Ni Guerre

Kids will be Kids

Dancing Raindrops

Into your Psyche

Out of Juice

Ambassador

Peace Corps Week

Learn More about DR Congo

Vicarious Nomad

Best of Photos - DRC 2010

Oasis en Route

Heart of Darkness

Twins in Africa

Dukes of Hazards

Impunity

Nothing But Forest

Avatar

MacGyver Moves

King Leopold’s Ghost

Checkpoint Charlie

Wild West of Congo - Orientale Province

Monkeys and Bananas

Saving Cute African Babies (SCAB)

Now There is Light

Familiar in the Unfamiliar

Friends and family: Wally's Wake tonight @ Sam Bond's 6 p.m.

Come celebrate his life, share stories, and reunite at his favorite watering hole.