on the Ninth Day in India, my Krishna gave to me...

..."a train ticket to Gandhi's ash-ram." actually, we didn't go straight from Delhi to the ashram - there was a little stop-over in Agra to visit the Taj Mahal (how could i visit India and miss this. that'd just be silly.) and the Agra Fort, a former capital of India during the British Raj. but before i get into those, let me backtrack to the last days in Delhi.

hmm, there was so much there i can hardly recount it all (mind you i'm writing this a few weeks post facto). but i'll share a few highlights:

SUFI SHRINE!!! so, if you know me really well, you may know that i've got a soft spot in the musical lobe of my heart for qawwali songs - the mystical tunes of Sufism. basically they are comprised of one main singer with a really wide range accompanied by a chorus that does both call-and-response and background vocals, usually at least one harpsichord, and tabla drums. sometimes other instruments are incorporated too. and they clap. most of the songs are chanted hymns to Allah, with all the trademark vocal acrobatics one associates with the call to prayer, but in their most traditional forms qawwali songs can go on for hours, improvised by the singer who enters into a kind of mystic trance and lets the divine sing through him. if you want some more information or to listen to some samples, check out this site, dedicated to the most well-known qawwali artist: http://nusrat.info/

well, the reason i've blabbered on about this is because i actually got to see it performed!! may not mean much to you, but for me the experience was like a hot tub in the rain or first tracks in 3 feet of powder. i actually visited the shrine/temple complex twice - we went there as a class for just 30 minutes one evening, and then i went back for 3 hours another night. the shrine is called Nizamuddin Darga. getting to the music is half the fun. the entrance is tucked away in the corner of a crazy market/bazaar area, framed by flowers hanging amid the air caked in incense. when you enter, you take your shoes off, leave them next to the door, and then walk through a long marble hallway that twists and turns so you don't have any sense of direction by the time the hallway opens into the night sky again. you walk into a large stone patio with a gilded square tomb in the center, and flanked by cloisters for praying and reading on all sides. everything is marble or gold or floral, and the whole place is filled with devotees reading passages of the Qur'an quietly, or talking theology with friends, or praying to the prominent holy people buried there, or listening to the music being played in the center. facing the main tomb, the "band" is all seated on the floor, the main singer in the front with his hands on his harpsichord, and everyone sits on either side to watch so that there is a rectangular empty space with the music and the tomb facing each other. they play for 45, 50 minutes non-stop, but the music shifts tempo and feel throughout the session. i was enraptured. it is probably the most beautiful expression of spiritual devotion that i have ever witnessed. plus after the singing ended at 10, i started talking with a guy whose dad teaches about Sufism, so he told me all about the place and about his religion and about the message of international brotherhood that he's trying to promote. in sum, it was one of the best nights of my life.

so needless to say i was a little sad to leave Delhi and all the places that i hadn't yet seen there. but there is more good to come. we had a few more awesome field trips - one to a protest to protect the river's health, another to a Sikh temple - before we all packed our jumbo-size backpacks and loaded onto the bus for Agra at 6 am, or what my professor would call "dark-thirty." the early alarm clock was well worth the sights for the day, though. we spent about 2 hours at the Taj Mahal, which i can never do justice to in words, so i won't even try. just a few facts to illustrate the grandeur: it took 22 years to build, the entire thing is marble, all of the designs are inlaid semi-precious stones, and when the whole thing was finished the king cut off the hands of everyone that worked on it (i.e. 22,000 people engineers, masons, and laborers) so that they could never repeat their work. pretty friggin crazy. i took a ton of pics, and some are - if i do say so myself - quite good. the first one here is of me and my friend Jess at the entrance to the main grounds, and then the one below is on the patio surrounding the main mausoleum. i'll post more on my photo site when i get a good connection.

after the day of ultra-tourism, we took an overnight train to Sewagram, where we stayed across the street from one of Gandhi's ashrams. this place is uber cool. in addition to the yoga in the mornings, the delicious and nutritious meals, the open field for some frisbee time (i was beginning to notice the symptoms of withdrawal after so much time in a cramped city - not a good thing), and the fact that we were sleeping not 200 yards from a place where one of the greatest personalities of the last century spent a lot of his time... well, there isn't really much else that's better than that.

for class we took a field trip (strange use of the term on a program that changes location at least once a week) to visit a "museum" dedicated to Gandhi and the Gandhian way. it is more than just a museum, though. in line with Gandhi's philosophy and his statement "my life is my message," this place did not just teach Gandhi's ideas, it really practiced them. the place was a community center, a small-scale organic farm, a khadi-cotton spinning and weaving facility (using only local cotton producers), a clinic for naturopathic medicine, and a retail shop where you can buy the clothes, soaps, and other products that were made right on the grounds by people that you meet walking around. in fact, it was a lot more than that, but i didn't retain enough of the detailed information to remember. we spent an entire day there, but i still could not learn about everything that goes on on that one hectare of earth. when we talked to some of the people that work there, they said that it gave them a "peace of mind" that they could not find in any other job, despite the higher pay they would receive. i could clearly see why - we all wanted to stay there forever.

after Sewagram, we're headed to an organic farm way out in the boonies for a week to explore the cotton economy and the difficulties of sustenance living. so you can read all about that in my next installment! (cut to commercial. just kidding, i don't do commercials here. unless i get a lot of money. hehe).

much love,

-t

namaste Delhi! please don't turn me into roadkill.

almost didn't start writing tonight because i should be resting for the intense week of lectures, readings, and field visits to come. not that it won't be a blast, but i know it will be exhausting. apparently our country coordinator likes to work us to the intellectual bone. despite this, i felt that i had to write because these first days in India have been so unbelievable. we arrive on the morning of the 24th after some 18 hours of traveling (at the least). immediately after settling in i went for a walk. our hostel was in the diplomatic sector of town, and it was some kind of holiday, so the streets were empty and bland. when i walked through the mostly shuttered-over market, however, there were just enough places open to fill my nostrils with scents that i'd only sampled occasionally at home. i knew then where i was, and i was overwhelmed by existential contentedness.

the second day i latched onto an internet cafe search party. after a 2 km walk with little success, we eventually crammed ourselves into an "auto-rickshaw" (also known as a tuk-tuk or 3-wheeled mini-taxi) and headed to Connaught Place, right in the center of Old Delhi. being Sunday, nearly all of the shops were closed, so we didn't get much of a feel fro what must only be the utter madness of a typical day. the roads were still lively, though, and their contribution to the atmosphere was readily apparent. in some places the smog was so thick that if i looked down a straight street i couldn't see the third block. it's difficult to describe the layout or visual aspects of the city - i'll have to save that for a later entry. or you could just look up a map. sorry, i'll hold off on the sass.

anyway, we found one place with decent computers, and, lo and behold - DSL! i was beginning to think that i would never encounter a connection that loaded a page faster than i could finish a sudoku, which was the standard in Tanzania, but the IT gods have certainly smiled upon the Subcontinent. granted, we still spent several hours there finishing our paper. in our post-assignment completion, chai-assisted ecstasy, we went to lunch next door - thali (naan, rice, daal, paneer curry, some yogurt and cheese thing, and fresh onions and radishes) for Rs 35 ($.90) that strongly reinforced my notion that my taste buds, and hopefully my gastrointestinal system as well, will attain nirvana in India long before my scattered, overflowing mind will. during lunch, my friend and i communicated mostly through stupid grins and elated, i-can't-f'ing-believe-this giggles.

after a brief rendezvous back at the hostel to pack and receive instructions from our country coordinator, we all separated into our homestay groups, loaded into taxis, and launched. Adam, Nate and i had not idea that anything could possibly be better than our Zanzibar family, but we grossly underestimated the plenitude, the cornucopia (thank you Adam, the walking thesaurus, for feeding me new vocabulary as i write) of our collective good karma.

our homestay mom just be the coolest and quirkiest person i've met so far on this trip. she lives out in some area of town that is transitioning from agricultural to urban in a 3-storey house in a walled compound with 3 outbuildings, a half-acre organic farm, 2 cows, 3 goats, a chicken, and her German Shepherd, Radya. the whole place is mostly waste-free, and the majority of the food she eats is grown on the premises. the house itself is spacious but luxuriously decorated with hardwood furniture, marble floors, a modern kitchen, many beautiful paintings, wi-fi, 3 computers, a hot shower (mega-bonus in cold Delhi) and a large-screen TV where we ended the evening watching Tom and Jerry with her and her domestic help.

dinner was, in line with the rest of the pleasant surprises, absolutely delicious. unfortunately, it was intentionally not very spicy because she wanted to be "on the safe side." however, when i ate one of the hot peppers in the daal (which i was told post facto were just for flavor, NOT eating) without much difficulty, she tried mimicking me and it was too spicy for her. she relayed this apparently impressive information to her mother in Hindi, and i'm sure i must've blushed a little from the flattery. i guess i'll have to look further for a real challenge of buds. i can already envision my famous last words: "sure, i like spicy food."

the last three days have been full of really engaging classes on everything from religious and cultural syncretism to groundwater restoration to the social psychology of the nation-state. luckily, we have chai breaks between our lectures to let the information settle before another round of really interesting oral knowledge is transferred. there is usually enough time to ask one or two questions so that our guest speaker can touch on another fascinating area just long enough to grab our attention, but never fully explaining. such is the nature of the program.

with that, i'll end my transmission for the night. there are too many other priceless details to mention. until next time, may peace be upon you, namaste, hakuna matata, -tanner.

i am thankful for... donkeys, cheese, and thunderstorms

today being Thanksgiving back home, i must start by giving thanks to all days, and to tomorrow, when i will leave for India. every hour on this trip so far has been worthwhile and useful and contributed to my learning and progress. i've had the last 6 days to reflect, unwind, relax and regenerate myself mentally, physically, and emotionally from the bombardment of information and experiences of Tanzania. for my vacation i returned to Maasailand with 3 friends. we spent 3 nights at the hostel at Ilaramatak community development center in Terrat and one night at the boma of Neyeyo, our translator from the previous visit. the ride over was crowded, bumpy, dusty, and absolutely wonderful. we crammed into a beat-up old safari jeep and took the long route from Arusha to Terrat, through dry gullies and acacia savannah and little villages scattered among pasturelands and corn and bean farms. for the first time we really travelled like the locals, and i felt so at home. my kind of ride.

on the second day the girls went back to our boma to give gifts of snuff and photographs (the former for the men, the latter for the moms and kids). i stayed at the center with Neyeyo's mom to help her make cheese and talk about education, geography, and life in general. i also finally got some alone time, which i relished by reading the Bhagavad Gita and sitting on the grass looking out at the quiet landscape. the next morning we walked with Neyeyo, Tataiyo (another translator friend), and Daniel (a warrior friend/bodyguard) for a good hour and a half to get to Neyeyo's boma. she lives in a clean concrete house very close to a large forest inhabited by a troublesome population of hyenas, lions, and leopards. didn't get to see any, though. we spent most of the day just talking and resting, and then we mande everybody the pasta marinara from supplies we carried from Arusha. i also helped prepare the chicken. i'm not just talking about the cooking, but also the plucking and gutting. i was so happy to get back in the kitchen and be useful. i hadn't realized how much i enjoy preparing food.

on our last day, we walked back to Terrat, stopping at Daniel's boma to meet his family and drink some goat-juice-and-herb soup. yummm. saying goodbye was really hard, but i know that the friends i made here will last. i don't know if i've ever gone somewhere and been able to relate to people so quickly and honestly as i was here. someday i'll return, i'm sure.

on our last night, a storm passed through, complete with lightning, thunder, and rough heavy rain. i stood outside to greet the oncoming torrent, feeling the surge of a real African rain, the beginning of the fertile season. in fact, the experience was so powerfully sublime, my inner romantic-naturalist Walt-Whitman wanna-be self could not be restrained, so i decided to write a little poem about it. please read (out loud if you like - this kind of thing sounds much better coming from human lips than from a computer screen) and enjoy. also, i always appreciate criticism. or snide remarks. or any kind of comment, really. or publication.

----

rain through the acacia

-

the wall the shadow

the sky's mighty hiss

no sunlight to frame its coming

no satellite report to quantify droplets

or categorize the response from the trees

as they cry softly and exhale

before the expecting mist blankets

the reaches of every possible trail.

-

and me, bowing backwards to the thunder

on my knees, eyes freed like liquid compasses

to find true headings from the clues

flooding every pore and nerve

and i greet the advancing battalions

with a sapling howl, i cry in freedom

for the rain on the acacia

washes out the blood from the old kingdom.

-

every day at home where the rain

falls and flows and drains - unappreciated

i scour my news and my most ethical

muse, but i am no medicine man

for the pain of this battered land

with symptoms on Wall Street and hospital

sheets stained with the epochs of death

that history books lazily relay - unappreciated.

-

somewhere under this soil and over the gray

the water runs parallel and rich as milk

but i still sink thoughtlessly when i know

that those gilded sorrows in the arteries below

flow north to saturate lands seeking grace

and the veins returning wind up in this place

with some bread, bullets, beer

and a bill for the disoriented human race.

-

out here exposed to the storm, to true people,

to resiliency and faith, to a working definition

of home

there is a great grasping pulse that pulls

as the night walks near and the slightest

warm breeze brushes off the fear unbounded

to reveal the sound of hope - grateful and silent

like the rain through the acacia

as the roots are released to feed.

----

now i'm back in Arusha, 15 hours away from leaving for India. not sure if i've got much closure on Tanzania, but i do feel a lot more grounded and strengthened for the next leg. it has been tough to balance my academic, personal, spiritual, and social lives, but i'm learning to sway between them more gracefully. all in all, i don't think i could possibly gripe about anything. i still feel almost sickeningly lucky and priviledged and honored to be here.

TTFN, and i'll check back in once i get to INDIA!!!!

mmmmooooooo. cows. goats. endless savannah. yes, you're in Maasailand.

the final formal leg of the Tanzania program was a stay at a Maasai "boma" or family compound. we drove to a small village way out in the savannah where we stayed for 5 days learning about and living closely with the Maasai people. all of us stayed in one boma but in separate huts. the boma is a circular area fenced with thorny trees to protect the people and livestock on the inside. our boma was owned by one man named Taon Matinda, but he shared it with three others and their total of 22 wives, 10 of which were Taon's. each wife has her own hut made from sticks and a mixture of mud and cow urine and covered with a straw roof. with no ventilation and a constant fire going inside, the interior is small, very smokey, hot, and dark. but in a cozy way. Adam, Nate and i slept on a dried goatskin (very dried - practically jerky) covering some straw and twigs. not very forgiving on the back, but i slept okay. personally, i really enjoyed the rustic conditions. felt a lot closer to the earth. though i did have a lot of black stuff in my handkerchief at the end of the stay.

we did all kinds of things while were there. the first two nights we participated in traditional dances. there were no drums, but the dancers would sing, grunt, and make a whole range of other sounds i'd never heard from a human before. that provided the rhythm and melody for the dancing, which consisted of a lot of small shaking and shuffling movements interspersed with men entering the middle of the dance circle to jump straight up in the air. the whole event was very jovial and fun, and they were especially entertained to see us students try it out. i got a lot of congratulatory handshakes for my jumping, though i think it was less because of the height that i jumped and more because of the absolutely ridiculous and completely off-beat "dancing" that i introduced. one of my friends got video. please don't watch it - i look like a jack-in-the-box on a trampoline in an earthquake.

on the first night there, many of the Maasai from the village came to hang out. some of the moran (warriors) slaughtered and roasted a goat right in front of us. it was damn tasty. i employed the services of a translator named Abrahim to talk with an elder man, who i later learned was the traditional leader of the village. we talked for hours about education, culture, science, history, and astrology. we got to comparing the ways that we used the stars to interpret reality and/or predict changes in things. he seemed to know a lot about reading the stars for signs of changes in the weather. i explained a little bit about how astrology works in a Western context, but in pretty simple terms. at this point, the conversation was pretty exciting (for me, at least), and as you may know, i get a teensy bit exuberant and crazy when i'm excited. just a little. so before you knew it, i was down on my knees, drawing a representation of the solar system in the dirt and spinning my fists around to demonstrate orbit and the change between night and day. the propane lamp gave a simply luminous performance as our sun. i also attempted to explain why different stars appear at different times of the year. in fact, i found myself teaching things i didn't even knew that i knew. maybe i was channeling Bill Nye the Science Guy.

he seemed pretty impressed with the model, and he said that he had never understood that the earth revolves around the sun. i guess Copernicus isn't exactly a well-known dude around here. after this jaunty into astrophysics subsided, the conversation was pretty well spent and he had to return to his boma. elated, i spent the remaining hours before sleep sitting around the campfire with other students and some of the warriors.

after class the next day we grouped up and walked the 45-minute trail to our home for the next 3 days. the boma welcomed us warmly. over the course of my time there, i was able to converse with many people, with or without a translator, and learned a lot about their culture. on the first night, one moran i talked to extensively about theology tried to convert me to Christianity. i tried to explain that my set of beliefs did not conflict with his, my own lame attempt at proselytizing religious pluralism, but he insisted that when i return home i need to "find Jesus." talk about reverse globalization. most of the younger Maasai are Lutheran, Catholic, or Baptist, and i didn't meet anyone my own age who seemed particularly interested in alternatives to Christianity. as upsetting as this was at first, i later realized that many Maasai don't perceive Christian religion and their own traditional spirituality to be at odds, so the missionaries may have been less culturally destructive than i initially surmised. as i always say, ...and by always, i mean right now... "you can never stop learning." yup. ain't that the truth. uhhh-huh. okay, bye.

safari njema! lions and buffalo and elephants and rhinos and... no leopards. OH MY!

maybe after reading this you will understand why i haven't posted anything for some time. currently, i'm in Arusha, which is one of the largest cities in Northern Tanzania, situated just at the foot of Mount Meru, Kilimanjaro's little brother. over the course of the last two weeks, i've spent at least half of the time in places with no running water or electricity, just the light of the millions of twinkling stars. literally - it was crazy, i thought i was seeing things but they actually would flicker. it has been so good for me to get out of the city and into some wilderness; i was the happiest i've been since we left.

we started in Arusha with a visit to the UN International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, just to keep things on a light note. it was the first time we were all sobered into silence. we were able to witness part of one trial and then have a long lecture/discussion with the Registrar, an old college buddy of Fatma's, who had some really interesting insights on human rights in the African context and the role of international law and justice in the decolonization process. one aspect of the trial that i found particularly interesting was that it was the first time a government leader had plead guilty and been convicted of genocide. i could go on and on, but i wouldn't be able to do justice (no pun intended) to the eloquence and formality of the trial. their website is http://www.un.org/ictr/ if you want some more detailed information.

in a strange change of scenery, we left the tribunal to head out on a 3-day safari of Lake Manyara, Ngorongoro Crater, and Oldupai Gorge. i saw all manner of wild animals, including hippos, elephants, a rhino, a lion, ostrich, wildebeest, zebras, and two cheetahs laying down not 20 feet from our car. despite the disgust of being such a blatant camera-toting, giddy ecotourist, not to mention the obvious disturbance to the ecosystem we were causing, it was still amazing to actually be there and be that close up. my pictures tell the rest of the story.

one anecdote that tells a little about our campsite: we stayed on the rim of the Ngorongoro Crater for two nights at a place called Simba Camp (simba is Swahili for lion). during the daytime, we were left with the illusion of isolation from nature. "sure, there are big toothed, hoofed, horned mammals down there, but we're totally out of their range up here. um... right?" when we noticed the guards that came at night to patrol the periphery with AK-47s, we began to wonder just what was out there that necessitated such a high-firepower presence in our quaint little camp. the first clue that i got was when, on the first night, i shone my headlamp across the field and saw a half-dozen zebras grazing. Maureen, our program fellow, said that she spotted a few hyenas snooping around, probably looking for an easy kill. "okay, cool. i guess we've got a few visitors, but at least they're keeping their distance." so thought naive tanner, before walking out of the outhouse at 9 pm (well past sunset) and having one of the kitchen staff nonchalantly wave his arm to my right and say "mind yourself." i looked over, not knowing what to expect, but certainly not a 13-foot tall (at the shoulder) bull elephant with his trunk hanging inside the water tank, standing within 30 yards from me. just having a little nightcap, i suppose. i almost jumped up and down from the goosebumps and joyful excitement. i quietly retrieved a couple close friends and told them to follow me, and then we watched him wander off into the forest, silent and majestic and totally HUGE. but, the fun didn't end there that night. later on, while sitting around the fire with some of our guides, we heard a somewhat unnervingly loud RRROOOOAARRRR from behind us. yup. lions. sounded pretty damn close too. the guards checked their radios and found out that a male had passed by another camp not too far away, so they estimated 3-5 km. we heard the roar a few more times before i went to bed, and i don't think i've ever heard another creature make any sound that commands so much force and respect. i felt privileged to even hear it.

the last day on safari, we went to Oldupai Gorge, one of the most human archaeological digs in the world. some of the oldest evidence of our ancestors have been found in this serene corner of the Great Rift Valley, the speculated eden of homo sapiens that runs from Mozambique to Ethiopia. sadly, we only stayed for 2 hours, much too short to really feel the place, and we didn't even leave the visitor center at the edge of the gorge. still, i found some quiet time to really BE there, and i could definitely pick up on the holiness of the place. i felt like i was the late arrival to a huge family reunion. there was such a density of wisdom and history there. i can't even begin to describe the sensation. it was hard to leave; i'm going to have to come back someday.

sisal, sisal, sisal - scary! (i.e. Halloween in Africa)

hello from Super Mzungu Tourist Warrior! i'll explain later. seeing as i didn't really cover much recent stuff in my last edition, i'll go over some of the highlights from the beginning of the Northern Tanzania part of the program. the focus for this part was on the agriculturally-based sectors of the Tanzanian economy, specifically the sisal plant. since you obviously already know what sisal is, i'll just jump right into it. just kidding, i'll be painfully descriptive. sisal is a cactus in the agave family that originated in the Yucatan but was imported into Africa by the Germans during the colonial period. unfortunately, it is not used to make tequila (my first question), but the leaves are instead ground up and the sinuous fibers inside are used to make natural rope. they're really strong, too. they gave us a sample, and one clump of 20 strands no bigger than human hairs was almost impossible to break by hand.

the sisal economy in Tanzania was government-run until recently. the price had dropped dramatically in the 60s due to the introduction of synthetic alternatives, but it started gaining popularity again in the early 90s, so the govenerment decided to privatize it in order to take advantage of the market shift. we were hosted by a one Mr. Shamte, a former government official who now runs a large-scale private sisal company with some interesting strategies. first of all, they divided their sisal-growing land into smaller plots, usually around 15 hectares, and then handed the plots over to families on the condition that they grow sisal and sell it to their company. the families are allowed to grow sustenance crops on their land as well. the company itself owns several sisal processing plants, two of which we were able to visit and see close up. the conventional factory was your standard industrial agriculture facility - large biomass goes in, small valued output comes out, and lots of waste is produced. however, they had just completed a new factory using state-of-the-art technology, and it seemed to be moving much more progressively towards their goal of sustainability. in addition to the processing of the fibers for ropes (a mere 2% of the sisal plant), this factory utilized almost the entire plant to create a variety of marketable products like natural chemicals, fertilizer, and methane gas, which was used to run their on-site generator to provide power for all the industrial processes. although they were still in the red because of the high investment costs, the factory is supposed to be completely self-reliant and nearly waste-free, within a few years.

while i was touring the facilities and walking through the fields of sisal, mostly i just wanted to say "bravo!" for the seemingly successful ingenuity and creativity of it all. but, seeing as this program is called Rethinking Globalization, i knew that i should not jump to conclusions. true, the efforts we witnessed were more progressive than the majority of industrialized agricultual cash-crop production schemes, but the entire industry was admittedly and overwhelmingly export-based and proudly capitalist. neoliberal definitions of development were prevalent in many of the conversations i had with employees and farmers, and they seemed to be totally okay with that. from this perspective, it is difficult for me to award this economy my personal seal of sustainability. however, the controversial debate is still open and i don't think i'll ever really be able to take a conclusive side on the issue.

in order to unwind from the rigorous theoretical analysis of this part of the program, we held a pretty spectacular halloween party at our hotel in Moshi. not everyone dressed up, but the common theme of the night was to take someone elses clothes and impersonate them for the evening. in this picture each of the girls dressed up as the one to their right, and Jasmine dressed up as... can you guess? well, perhaps she accentuated my subtle hippie/rasta qualities a little much, but yeah, she was me. last minute as usual, i dressed as SuperMzungu (mzungu is the Swahili equivalent of gringo, or white person). basically i went as the tourist from hell (see picture at top). it was a good time.

"he'll be coming around Mount Kilimanjaro when he comes..."

so i'm back on the mainland. at this moment, i'm in a town called Moshi, which is one of the two main jumping-off points for those wishing to scale the continent's largest mountain, and also a key coffee-producing region. i can't say how happy i am to be in a climate where the hours of being drenched with sweat are limited to the early afternoon - the mornings and nights here are quite cool, and our hotel's rooftop restaurant has a splendid view of the majestic Mt. Kilimanjaro, capped off with its famous (albeit receding) snows, which, according to recent evidence, is not due to global warming but local deforestation. but enough boring stuff, i haven't written in a while, so i'll go over some of the craziness of the last few weeks, starting back with the last days in Zanzibar (seems like lifetimes ago now):

the date: Friday, October 26th. crazy, crazy day. on Saturday we were scheduled to leave for the mainland, so all the fun had to be squeezed into that last 24 hours. i woke up early to go snorkeling with most of the class at a coral reef just off the coast. it was probably the best snorkeling experience i've ever had. granted, that's not saying much, but you'd probably be just as amazed by the rainbow of different colors on the fish and the intricate patterns of the massive coral structures. in the afternoon, 13 of us students plus Abui (host brother) took an open-top outboard-motor boat out to the "sandbar," which is exactly what it sounds like - an island of sand in the middle of the sea. we arrived at high tide, so the island was just a little hill no bigger than a basketball court. to the east we could see Zanzibar about 1 mile away, and to the west an awe-inspiring sunset over the distant African horizon. i walked way out into the water so the only thing i could see was sky and ocean, perfectly dissected along the middle of my field of vision. just after the sun set, the full moon rose in the East. talk about scenic perfection. we made a fire and goofed off for a while before jumping back on the rickety boat to return, or at least that was the plan. 300 meters from shore the up-to-then perfect day started to show signs of a turning. it all started with the boat running out of fuel, leaving us wet and cold and bouncing around tantalizingly close to home. it wasn't a huge dilemma, though, because our captain was able to swim to shore and bring back a refill. we stepped ashore at about quarter to 10 and headed home. this is when the real surprise came. Adam (homestay housemate) and i walked into the house, only to find our host brother Issa shouting at us: "where have you been? we've been waiting for 3 hours!!"

after the initial shock, we were able to figuer out that Issa had planned a surprise going-away dinner for the 3 of us (Nate stayed there too) and he had invited all kinds of extended relatives to join in. problem was, apparently Abui never knew, and Issa wasn't aware that we were not going to be back in time for dinner, so we came home to an i-don't-know-how-many-course dinner and a houseful of very, very irritated people. they had waited, the food getting colder and colder, for the last 3 hours. dinner was, needless to say, one of the most shamefully and painfully awkward situations of my life - so much so that i almost burst out laughing from the absurdity of it all. all of the men at the table wouldn't speak to me; they looked like they were about to start fuming from the ears. to top it all off, the food was incredible and after the dinner they served us not one, not two, but THREE different desserts, followed by gifts. i couldn't figure out how to thank them - i felt so guilty. it was all okay in the end, however. Issa calmed down and lightened up, and my sister Isde and Mama Hadija were chill and bouyant as always. lesson learned - Zanzibari hospitality knows no bounds.

[pictures: top - Stone Town streets; middle - Adam, host brother Abui, host Mama Hadija, Nate; bottom - some of the antiques in my host family's shop]

conservation, globalization, grassroots resistance... and monkeys!!

last time i wrote anything down was late Wednesday night. since then i've visited 3 villages, stayed with families there, interviewed an eco-tour guide, learned about conservation efforts to preserve the native evergreen and mangrove forests, and witnessed a man free-climb a 50-foot coconut palm while shouting (in Kiswahili), "if you are in the toilet, cover yourself. i am climbing and i can see you!" this is regarded as standard courtesy.

on Wednesday afternoon we toured the village of Kizimkazi with the local school's headmaster. we saw a 900 year-old mosque, entered a cave with a small monolith resembling a young woman that holds spiritual significance for the local people, and explored the quaint fishing harbor. the people here still use traditional outrigger canoes powered by wind or push-pole, since a gas engine is both expensive and disturbs the fish. most of the fishing is subsistence-based. that's me with one of the sail-less canoes. and yes, i am wearing my "sustain ubc" t-shirt, standard Tanner travel attire for all locations, although it is beginning to show the wear and tear, the latter being manifested quite literally in some spots. others call it raggish - i call it "breathable".

early Thursday morning my group jumped into a little motorboat with snorkel gear and chugged off up the coast in search of dolphin pods. sure enough, we found them, and i was able to spend a good 20 minutes or so diving around and swimming between the playful bottlenose. pretty hard to believe this is my school. i was able to take some pretty awesome pictures with my friend's underwater camera, but i don't have them on me so you'll have to wait. later that day we drove from Kizimkazi (South-West coast of Zanzibar island) to Jozani-Chokwa Bay National Park, where we hiked through jungles filled with the rare red colobus monkey, as seen below.

we stayed with families in the local village of Pete, and were honored guests of a communal drum-and-dance circle that evening.

on Friday we spent the morning talking with a few environmental groups who were attempting to create solutions that met the needs of the local communities as well as the conservation effort. although their efforts are commendable, the practices did not seem entirely sound and their funding relies on both external donors and the tourism sector, so sustainability is questionable. at noon we took our dala-dala to the final stop, the village of Jambiani on the East Coast. our host and eco-tour guide, Kassim, enthusiastically showed us around the village and some of the community cooperatives in play there. we talked with seaweed farmers (see picture below), women trying to make a living outside of the home and independent of their husbands. we also met several other community members who were searching for ways to sustain their local culture, economy, and civil rights in the midst of government corruption and the onslaught of foreign tourist investment dollars. there are not that many hotels on the beach yet, but the resorts that do exist are almost entirely owned by Europeans or Americans, employ imported labor, and exert a lot of power on local politics. for example, some resorts prohibit the local fisherman from using the beach in front of their property. despite all of the struggles, the people are incredibly kind, warm-hearted, and willing to talk with us curious (and very self-conscious) students.

yesterday morning i woke up early to see the sun rise over the Indian Ocean. actually, i woke up at 4 am to the crow of the rooster next door and the rats scurrying about my room, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the awe-inspiring scene. after breakfast we met with a medicine man whose family has been practicing for 400 years. the plethora of spices and herbs on the island make for all kinds of remedies and concoctions.

it was difficult to leave the serenity of the beach, but we had to return to Stone Town and our homestays yesterday afternoon. plus, i was in dire need of a shower (most of the bathrooms i encountered during the last few days consisted of little more than a hole in the concrete and a bucket of water to wash your hands). i decided to take last night and today for myself to relax, reflect, and express.

last days in Dar, first days in Zanzibar

(written October 17, 2007)

7 days since my last entry seems much, much longer than that. the value of 24 hours is really being pushed to its limits - i get so much out of every moment. i can't even begin to describe everything, but i'll start with today and work my way back.

right now i'm laying on my mosquito net-covered bed, cotton sleep sack rolled out beneath me, in a spartan guest house room in Kizimkazi, Zanzibar, Tanzania. the white-sand, coral-lined beach is only 50 yards out the door. saying "coral-lined" is a bit redundant, though, since this entire island is literally made of coral that has piled up over the millenia to create an entire land mass and ecosystem. today we had class in the morning at the Palace Museum (the former home of the Sultan of Zanzibar) and then at the Institute of Marine Science in Stone Town, Zanzibar, before breaking up into 3 smaller groups and starting our field site visits, which will last for 3 days. we jumped aboard our dala-dala and drove south for an hour. tomorrow we're waking up at 5:30 to go swim with dolphins. very very very excited, to say the least.

yesterday (Tuesday) was the least eventful of the last week. highlight - making India vacation travel plans with my friend Caroll (we're going to Dharamsala for 4 days!). Monday was crazy. class was fun, but a bit hot and long, so it was tough to stay awake. after having dinner with my host family, i went out to see the Eid festivities (Tuesday was the last day of the 4-day celebration at the end of Ramadhan) with my host sister, Isde, her sister-in-law, her maid, Atu, and my host family's other student-renter, Cassie. i had a simply stupendous time walking through the crazy open-air markets, seeing all the Muslim families out and about, and joking with my "entourage."

the day before, Sunday, was our first real day in Zanzibar. i went for a long walk with myself, managing to get lost several times in the twisting maze of ancient streets carved between whitewashed houses, old forts, and various examples of Arabic architecture. my host brother, Abui, who is only a year older than i, took us (Adam, Nate and me - as the only three males in the program, we are constantly boarding together) to a housewarming party for his cousin. her husband is an ex-pro footballer, and his house was the size and layout of a small apartment building. we ate on the roof with at least 25 other relatives in two boisterous cross-legged circles separated by gender. the meal - Zanzibar mix, which was something like potato curry, falafel, beef kabob, cucumber salad, and local spices all mixed together. quite a treat, i highly recommend it the next time you happen to pass by Zanzibar.

on Saturday most of the day-hours were spent traveling on the ferry from Dar to Zanzibar, getting acquainted with the host family, and finding my way around their extensive and labyrinthine house. Adam and i share a bed, but the room is so comfy and deluxe with Arabian-influenced decor that we hardly notice the inconvenience. that night Abui took us out to a reggae party and then to a bar catering to the many "muzungus" (lit, Europeans, but used to refer to any white people) in Zanzibar.

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of last week were all crazy days. Wednesday saw our first group "check-in" session, which for me was a real milestone in feeling more comforatble with everyone. lots of emotional connections and other gooey stuff, but it's important when we're spending so much time in close contact with people who were, up until a few weeks ago, complete strangers.

Thursday was great fun. for dinner, Maureen (our program's "fellow," or assistant teacher) and a group of 8 students were invited to the house of a chance acquaintance of Maureen's. we helped prepare and ate ugali and other local veggie dishes. our host, Sarafina, was possibly the most hospitable and bubbly personality i've ever met. she served us champagne, which is crazy because she is devout Muslim (i.e. she has never had a drop of alcohol in her life) and obviously on a tight budget, living alone in a one-bedroom apartment. it was quite an event - not something i'll forget easily. when we returned, Rachel (the YMCA concierge) took a bunch of us to a nearby club to go dancing. it was a good time, but i was a little preoccupied making sure that none of the other inebreated patrons got too excited by the pack of beautiful young American women that walked in the door with me. we were just there to enjoy ourselves and go home, but being the only guy i decided to stay sober and just a little bit cautious. of course, nothing serious happened, and we got home safe and sound, though i didn't get to bed until the early morning.

needless to say, Friday found me totally drained, having had only a few hours of sleep in the past few days. Helena, Caroll, and i were able to arrange an interview with Tundu Lissu after class, which was awesome and really helpful for my studies, but it also ended up taking 3 hours, so we didn't eat until 10. i made sure to get a good rest that night.

asalaam aleikom, Dar es Salaam

outside, crows are calling each other in the early morning air. my ceiling fan wobbles and throbs, and my foot itches. i think i must have accidentally stretched in my sleep and thrust it out of the confines of my mosquito net. good thing i've got my doxycycline. today i'll read from 6:30 to 7:30, then breakfast, then at 8:30 we all go to the University of Dar es Salaam for more classes with Fatma Alloo, Smitu Kothari, and Tundu Lissu, a prominent Tanzanian human rights lawyer who is notorious for taking on the government over land rights issues. his work with Lawyer's Environmental Action Team has helped push the atrocities of extractive mining practices into mainstream media here in Tanzania. hopefully today the jetlag won't impair my ability to stay fully awake during class.

these last few days have been great fun, full of activity and Kiswahili practice and roaming Dar and eating beans (maharagwe) and rice (wali) and the local "stiff porridge" (ugali). rather than trying to tell everything i've done in full, i'll just recount a one particularly memorable experience:

on Monday a small group of us met up with Benedict Pius Tomas, the man who took Ina and Katie and me around town on Sunday. he seemed a little surprised to find me with so many new sisters, but it all worked out for the best. as we meandered through the potholed, sun-baked streets, dodging cars and dala-dalas (the ubiquitous local minibus transit), the girls chatted with him as best they could. Caroll, friendly as always, got to talking with someone as we were walking and he decided to join the party. i later found out that he is a student from a rural area, a young man named Msafiri. we walked for about 15 minutes through town until we arrived at the "beach," which was actually fenced off and covered in debris. so we didn't go out there. there is a main road that runs parallel to the shore, and between that road and the beach fence there is a large embankment where people have set up outdoor kitches, shops, and other ad hoc structures. i'll admit i was a little cautious when we finally got through the dense diesel fumes and speeding Land Rover-filled thoroughfare to pass through a rusted wrought-iron fence that looked menacingly exclusionary, but once we got to the area with the plastic tables, it felt a bit moree familiar. as soon as we approached, 6 or 7 women in white dresses jumped into a frenzy of service, setting up chairs and beckoning us to sit down. none of us at this time had realized that where we were was anything resembling a restaurant. but it had a good view of the peaceful harbor (Dar es Salaam was named for this valuable resource - in Arabic it means "Peace of Heaven") and Benedict seemed sure, so we all took our places and began the futile effort to explain to the women that some of us are vegetarians. "mimi sili nyama" - "i don't eat meat," we said over and over, but apparently some of us veggies are confused souls in need of a little civilizing, so we got meat (tasted like goat) and fish anyway. oh well, hakuna matata, and we ate the food anyway. it was delicious.

i've got PTSD! (Pre-Travel Stupor and Disorientation)

actually, the title kinda lies. i'm not really that disoriented, but when i think about where i'll be soon it does induce a kind of mental malaise, like trying to understand one of those magic eye things. also, the poor sleep and extra doses of coffee probably don't help.

classes, however, have been anything but stupor-inducing. this last saturday we visited Polyface Farms in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, and it was absolutely incredible. they practice "alternative pastoral farming," but it is so simple and straight-forward that it makes industrial agriculture seem like some Lewis Carroll fantasy. i won't bore you with all the cool facts i learned from the very charismatic owner/farmer/tour guide, but one definitely sticks out: if all of the pasture land in the US operated with the methods they employ, the organic content of the soil would increase, thereby allowing for a much denser biomass (more grass), and the revitalized Great Plains could potentially sequester all of the carbon in the atmosphere produced since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. now i know that sounds far fetched, but this guy was really, really smart. even if it is off, when i was on the farm it did not seem to improbable just judging by the difference in the shade of green between his fields and the other farms.

so that was a good day. these last few days we've been cranking out papers, so there hasn't been much more exploring around dc (although i did go the the National Geographic building, just to pay homage). today we were visited by the Beehive Design Collective, a group of artists who create these amazing graphics depicting various issues of global importance. the one we saw was a 30' x 8' black-and-white banner visually telling the story of the drug war in Columbia and its many roots and reprocussions. the eye-warping visuals aside, their philosophies are also really innovative and cool. plus the young woman who represented them to us is an IHP alum, so it was cool to see what one student has done post-program.

plane leaves in three days, so the next time i post here will probably be from an internet cafe somewhere in Dar es Salaam or Zanzibar. usually it gets easier to embark on a journey, but i've made sure to intensify each one to balance off the equation. what i'm trying to say is, i'm definitely a little nervous. but i feel confident that whatever hits me will be valuable in the larger scheme o' tings.

first 10 days in DC

so. i'm here in the district of columbia, and what a fine city it is. sometimes. not so crazy 'bout the lack of recycling facilities (i know, i'm an eco-prude), but the museums are awesome and so is the concentration of NGOs and other politically active groups. muy cool.

the program started 11 days ago, although it feels like months. we've already covered all of our orientation, done quite a bit of reading and assignments, visited the World Bank, Capitol Hill, and environmental NGOs. the 27 other students and myself are parking our tired, studious bodies in a cute little bed and breakfast every night, which is probably the last bed we'll sleep in without fear of scabies, lice, or bed bugs for a long time.

for those readers who have not idea what this "program" is, i'll go into a brief explanation now. if you've already heard me give all the boring details, then feel free to skip ahead to the next paragraph.

the program i am on is called "Rethinking Globalization," and it is the only year-long study abroad offered by the International Honors Program. i will be studying anthropology, ecology, social movements, development and economics, and environmental policy in Washington, DC, Tanzania, India, New Zealand, and Mexico. along with the 27 students, i will travel, live, and study with faculty both from the US and elsewhere. some of the highlights (everything is tentative, though): visiting the Ngorongoro Crater and Olduvai Gorge, walking through the sights, sounds, and tastes of Delhi and Mumbai, living among the Maori, and observing the alternative economic and social structures of indegenous people in Southern Mexico. the program offers a really progressive, hyper-critical perspective, and they really encourage personal inquiry and open-mindedness. in other words, it's gonna be really, really fantastic and really, really difficult. so it goes.

but back to the moment - i've been dividing my relatively little free time between getting to know the people i'll be with for the next 8 months (yes, they are all really cool), exploring the city, decompressing from long days of intensive intellectual discussion with a nice game of "Taboo" or a pint at a local cafe, and generally figuring out how i'm going to survive this thing mentally, physically, and spiritually intact. there have already been some major shifts in how i observe and process isses, and i can only imagine how much further i'll have to go to even begin to understand the complexity of what i'll be seeing and studying. so i'm both supa-dupa excited and also mightily intimidated.

part of my study involves a year-long project, which i am still crafting but will include lots of person-to-person research and interaction (i.e. interviews) to better understand the lives and visions of the people i'll be in contact with around the world. once i get a more complete version of the project, i will post it up here and i would love to hear your feedback/comments/critiques.

i don't feel that there is much else i can talk about, since i'm sure the stories to come will be FAR more interesting than my academic pursuits in the capital. so i'll end it here.