Breakfast

There are few things I enjoy quite as much as a decadent breakfast.  It's not just the abundance of food, the gracious service, or being somewhere elegant and bathed in sushine, no - it's the leisure of it all.  My favorite thing to do when friends come to visit is take our time making coffee or tea, whip up some whole wheat pancakes, make a frittatta (thanks, Martha, for teaching me this skill), bacon, and then toss some fruit on top of plain yogurt and granola.  It's the thing that I never do on work days, the sumptuous feeling of taking our time through the morning, and the delightfully full way to start a day.

My favorite breakfast of all time was at the Serena in Zanzibar.  I haven't written much about my trip there, honestly because there wasn't much to tell - my two friends and I sat on the beach, drank rum n coke, swam in the crystal waters, and soaked in the incredible sunshine for 3 glorious days.  But the first morning we were there - oh, that breakfast.  You wake up to the most blue water you've ever seen, right out the balcony (glad to be out of bed, since we got a 1 person room for 3!).  You rub the sleep out of your eyes and strategize how to walk downstairs as if 2 of your party had just met you for breakfast rather than slept at the hotel with you.  You are served a delightful cappuccino probably with the shape of a leaf or a heart made into the foam (which you try not to destroy by pouring sugar over it).  The Indian Ocean breeze is wafting through ceiling-to-floor windows, and fishing boats that look remarkably like pirate dinghies pass by.  The blue water is a lovely breakfast companion.

You walk over for your first course - begging your stomach to take it slowly and enjoy all this food.  The fruit is fresh mango and honeydew and orange and papaya, and it's ripened to perfection.  Second course - some eggs perhaps?  Now, all the eggs in all of east Africa taste the same to me (all the same ingredients - I could write a book about 'spanish omelette, please') - but you eat them with the knowledge that the cook made these especially for you - just you.  By now you are on your second coffee, or maybe you've switched to juice in the meantime - what a selection of juices.  And finally, when you know your stomach really should be winding down - that's when your custom-ordered waffles arrive.  You drizzle them in some blueberry compote, and take that one moment (the first bite moment) to recognize that this is your happy place.

Perhaps you've been talking through breakfast, or perhaps you've been sitting in silent appreciation.  It doesn't matter.  I've never experienced breakfast like that.  Other places are also nice if you're not vacationing - the Sankara in Nairobi has a delightful spread (although they only get your eggs right 1 day out of 4), but the crepe man is so friendly.  In Kampala, the Serena breakfast is also luxurious, and the staff are the kindest in the world.  In San Salvador, the Hilton Princesa is delightful - and you have to get a cup of their cafe con leche, because that's the only way to start your day correctly.  Or perhaps you're in Milano, and your breakfast is espresso and lemon cakes and focaccia bread.  Delightful and unbelievably unhealthy!  In Harare, I know I've told you about the incredible scones with real clotted cream to eat with your tea. 

But Zanzibar, wow.  Try it sometime...

sad day

Three things broke my heart today:
1. Churches in Khartoum were burned to the ground over the weekend.  Racial and religious hate crimes - against places that also serve as hospitals and schools.
2. My friend sent me this picture - "Kony 2012" spray painted on the memorial for victims of the Boston massacre.  It actually makes me physically ill to look at it:

3. I've mentioned before how people always answer their phones in the middle of meetings - it's totally annoying, and bordering on rude.... but everyone expects you to answer your phone at all hours.  Well, late, late last night and then again early this morning I was awoken by a phone call which I ignored.  Later I talked to this friend - she got beaten up yesterday.  This is why you always answer your phone in post-conflict Africa.

It's not about feeling like this world is too dark, it's about having hope... I don't see a lot of it out there, but I don't know everything.

the 3 questions

I was told today that there are 3 questions to which you always answer, "yes" here:
1. Are you married?
2. Is your husband from here? (South Sudan)
3. Is your husband here? (in the country)

Because apparently if you are married and your husband is South Sudanese and he is in the country, and dude messes with you?  He might get shot.

classic

I'm going to let you in on a few challenges you could run into as an overseas guest:
1. the men on the street told me, 'Run fasta, run fasta!'
2. a black fly kamakazed into my cappuccino this morning.  I fished it out and drank it anyway.
3. my shirt from target just started unravelling.  also this morning.
4. my friend's passport is being held up at the embassy because the worker asked her to marry him, and she said no.
5. my other friend's apartment got attacked by flying termites.
6. within one hour, I was told that I got fat, look too pale, should not have cut my hair, and am too young.  too young for what?  nothing, just too young.
7. Your business is EVERYBODY's business.  Yesterday, the pastor at church called out the honored guests saying, "You are most welcome back to church.  We know you have not been here in many months, but you are most welcome anyway."

Juba, ra ra!

I arrived in South Sudan on Wednesday - so this is my fourth full day here.  Everyone says a lot of different things about Juba, but I'm not going to compare with what everyone else says (I try to never do that), I'm just going to give you the facts from my perspective.

#1 hot, hot, hot.  I've never been anywhere this hot.  It's 10 a.m. right now, and probably 90 degrees (I'm still learning celsius).  We had one night of rain last week, that cooled things down... it was only 70 by 10 a.m., but then the afternoon was just as hot as before.  I'm pretty sure the only way to avoid the heat is to jump in the pool.  I tried running one morning last week - definitely, that has to happen before 8 a.m.

#2 paved roads!  I've counted 5 so far.  It's very exciting, but the rest of the roads are that red dirt, as usual... so the dust is really strong.  Makes my nose and throat all congested.  But that's fine, because I barely notice the smell.  Remember the smell from when I first started coming to Africa 4 years ago?  I don't smell it any more.  I'm not sure that's a good thing.

#3 they really don't speak kiswahili here... it's Juba Arabic, which is not like regular Arabic (or so I'm told).  The sounds are much more gutteral and tonal than I'm used to - maybe after a few months I'll have some phrases down.  Right now all I can remember is something that sounds like "quacha" which means white person.  classic.  maybe I should start working in South America where all languages lead to Spanish.

#4 it's cool to be badass.  Every time I meet a new person, it's the same 3 questions, what are you doing here?  how long have you been here? and have you been out of Juba?  the more badass your answers, the more street cred you get.  Obviously, I'm going to be headed out of Juba as fast as possible.

#5 it's not for families - In Zimbabwe or Kenya, you normally see families - but it's obvious that this is not a family post (as we call it in USAID lingo) - I've only seen one white kid, and he's the exception.  Most people where I'm staying are older British folks.  I talked to one gal last week who said I was the first American she's run into while here.

#6 location, location, location.  I'm at a small "hotel" outside of Juba town... big mistake.  The closer you are to the nightlife, the better - this is because you won't get stopped at a police checkpoint on your way home, and have your evening ruined.  Need to figure out a solution to this.

#7 war, what war?  The first day after I arrived, Sudan declared war on South Sudan.  However, everyone I've spoken with remains blissfully unconcerned about this - "yes, it's bad," they say.  Or, "we knew this was coming," but not one person out of my 6 friends (hey, 6 friends in 4 days - that's pretty good!) actually thinks that the war will move to Juba.  That sound is not a helicopter or a bomb - it's a lawnmower.

I think 7 things is enough for now.  If I get it together, I'll send some pictures - although, it's illegal to do photography here, so maybe I won't.  I'm off to church!

an Acholi wedding, part 2

All of the groom's side met outside the venue and were bussed over to the wedding site. As we arrived, there were dancers and singers who surrounded us, and we danced our way into the venue (an outdoor affair, obviously, with 5 lovely tents surrounding a circular ground - I was in the VIP tent. Believe it).
Then came the ushers - each new group of people is brought in on a white carpet, and they dance their way into the little arena. Each group is requested to search for the groom or the bride (depends), but no one can find him/her until the very end. Ushers are female, by the way. They wear traditional Acholi dress, which are called gomasis, and are quite intricate to put on. They have these huge shoulder poufs, which look hilarious. The goma is supposed to accentuate the woman's features - especially her bum. They will make you pad your bum if it doesn't look big enough. The gomasis also have a sash around the waist - as my friends tell me, "You cannot dance like an acholi unless you have something tied around your waist." They are a hundred colors, and look truly fabulous.

The ladies march their way in, and each participant is given a special envelope from the groom's side with money in it. So nice and, I imagine, so expensive! The MC asks the groom if he can find his bride among the ushers, no, no says the groom, my bride is not in that group. Then the flower girls march in - precious - but the groom cannot find his bride amonst the flower girls. Nevertheless, they are paid for their efforts. Next come the aunties, who are more splendid than any of the previous groups - in their gomasis. They search and search for the groom, but they cannot find him. The aunties are rewarded for their search.

Now I've written this in the course of 10 minutes, and it probably took you less time than that to read it, but these activities have taken place over the course of several hours. It's probably 5 p.m. by now, and we started around 2. There's dancing, MC chatter, and refreshments all along the way. Finally, finally comes the bridal party - the bride with her maids (their term not mine). They are all dressed alike - not in gomasi, but in beautiful red and gold under-dresses with a red sari on top. The bride - well, you're not supposed to know it's her - but her outfit has a lot more gold than anybody else's ;) So Bill's sisters come down out of the raised VIP tent to look for Joanna, and they make a whole game of trying to find her. When they finally find her, there's great rejoicing, ululating, and dancing! Bill's sisters made a sweet speech to welcome her into the family, and then all the VIPs were requested to bring in the family gifts. Each gift is symbolic - carrots, sim sim (sesame) seeds, onions, etc, and each is carried in a basket. For the ladies in the group, we carried them on our heads, and danced our way up to Joanna to present the gifts.
Then came the final moment - introducing the groom to the bride's family. Joanna's aunties came back down the aisle, and searched and searched for Bill in the VIP tent. Finally they found him, brought him down to the front, and presented Joanna to him. All his family was there to accept her, and her family was there to give her away (having already negotiated the dowry several days before).


Ok, introductions completed - then it was time for dinner! We ate delicious local food - chicken, beans, rice, bor, beef stew, and fresh fruits. Bill told me that the number of attendees kept changing - at first they expected 600, then the number dropped to 400, then increased to 1,000, but he insisted they would only cook for 800. Then, let's see - there were speeches by Bill's dad, Bill and then Joanna. (Joanna was wearing a black gomasi at this point, with beautiful patterned colors all over it).
Then I believe there was another break for Joanna to change again - her final outfit was this hot pink wrap dress that had gold sequins all over it. She looked stunning! Joanna and Bill cut their cakes, which were modeled after typical Gululian homes (little clay huts with straw roofs). Then it was the maids' job to serve the cake to the guests. Typically they would have to walk around on their knees to do this, but I guess this was a more forward-thinking couple :)
After dinner and cake, Bill and Joanna opened the dancing to all by making a full circuit around the mini-arena dancing in true Acholi style. At that point it was all over - you couldn't have keep us off the dance floor if you wanted to!

I think what I'll carry with me (in addition to the hugs and excitement of seeing my NUTI friends again), were Bill's words to Joanna: "It's taken me 43 years to find the love of my life, and I'll love you forever."

pictures to come!

an Acholi wedding

The first thing I heard when I arrived in Nairobi was P-I-M-P by 50 cent on the radio.  The second thing was Waterfalls by TLC.  Classic Nairobi.  I arrived at the Sankara at 9:30 p.m., had to run over to my friend's place and pick up a phone - but alas, we think it got stolen from her room.... So, back at the Sankara, no phone, had to be up in 4 hours to leave for Gulu.  ugh.  So, off to the airport, 5:30 a.m., 4 suitcases left at the Sankara, 1 backpack and a passport, and I was on my way.  My friend Sophia met me in Entebbe.

It's been 2 years since I've been to Gulu, and 2 years since I've seen any of my dear, dear friends from the Northern Uganda Transition Initiative (NUTI) program... the NUTIzens we called ourselves.  I came into town for a NUTI wedding - our operations manager, Bill, was marrying an Acholi lady named Joanna.  Bill is a delight if I ever met one, and Joanna is equally delightful.  So, 2 days of flying, 5 hours' drive to Gulu, and a minor car accident later... (our driver's fault, no one was hurt)...  Sophia and I arrived in Gulu town.  Gulu has changed quite a bit since I was there - there's a even an Uchumi Supermarket now!  big time.  We stayed with Sophie's cousin Joy, and her daughter Abby.  Friday, we went out for Ethiopian food - but the restaurant has moved twice since I lived there... so we had to do a little searching.  On the way there, we ran into Lydia, Patricia, and Lindah.  Lydia said her heart stopped beating when she saw me!  It was a great moment.  And a greater hug.

The next day I woke up with about 100 mosquito bites all over my arms & legs.  Way to not turn down the mosquito net, girls.  You would think we were n00bs.  Well, after a quick trip to the supermarket for breakfast (pizza, that's right) - we got ourselves all ready to go.  You should have seen us.  Actually, you will - I'll post pictures.  Now I knew a few things from my last Acholi wedding:
1. You always, always wear a long dress.
2. You wear as many colors as you can find.  Color blocking was invented by the acholis.
3. You never, ever, ever expect things to be on time.  There is a lot of waiting involved in Uganda in general, and even more so at weddings!  Eat in advance - dinner will certainly be later than you expect!
4. It's a bit confusing - but you first do the negotiation of the bride price, then the introduction, then the giving away of the bride to her husband's family - this can be several different events, or it can be one long ceremony, or a whole slew of mini-events.  Then there's a civil ceremony in a church (that can be a few months later - up to several years).
5. Dancing inevitably goes late into the night.  You can get involved in dancing at almost any point.  It's encouraged.

There are a lot more ins and outs than this, but for the mzungus - that's the basics.  So, we arrived on time, grabbed some lunch, and waited.  And waited... and you're going to have to wait too... for part 2 of this blog post and pictures!

KLM

There are some days I feel like a KLM princess.  Like today, when the nice Dutch hostess at the KLM lounge asked what my status was.  Platinum.  That's right, and I worked hard for it (or at least sat in numerous uncomfortable economy-class seats for 16+ hour journeys).  On my earlier flight, the attendant walked up to me and asked my meal preference prior to any of the other passengers - because she saw that I'm a frequent flyer and wanted to make sure I got the meal I wanted.

Recently, KLM has upgraded their wardrobe for flight attendants - precious.  But more importantly, they've upgraded plane tv screens and the in flight menu!  Yep, I actually - wait for it - enjoyed my dinner on the flight last night.  I never thought I would see the day.

Other times, I'm confused - like the music selection here in the lounge has been everything from the Beatles to Alicia Keys... a compendium of soft rock, I guess?  I'm pretty sure Eugene Levy is sitting here in the lounge.  Or perhaps it's his older brother.  Or when the snooty KLM lady tells me there's no possibility of changing my ticket without paying at least $500, and that I must be ridiculous to think otherwise.  Confusing.

So far, this trip has been successful - but I'm headed for the next 8 1/2 hour leg, during daylight, to the Nairobi airport (which I despise), to pick up more bags than I've ever traveled with.  In my life.  Here goes nothing!