As expressed in my previous post I miss that damn city.
Due to visa trouble in the past I couldn’t actually be sure that The Land Of The Free And The Home Of The Brave (humility has never been a virtue of the USA) wanted me back, so ever since I left 20 months ago I’ve thought that I couldn’t go back there. That it was off limits, which is what has made it so damn hard.
But thanks mainly to a wonderful friend’s persuasive powers and the fact that the restaurant where I used to work might be closing in a couple of months, I decided that now was the time to give it a shot. So I bought myself a ticket, got on a plane and hoped for the best. Oh, and did I mention that I was just a bit nervous?...
But to my own disbelief I went straight through immigration. Thank God for Homeland Security!
Suddenly I was back and it was as if I’d never left. It was like coming home.
Only one person knew that I was coming and I caught the rest by surprise. The expressions on their faces were priceless.
Walking into that restaurant at 9.30 on a busy Saturday night is something that I’ve visualized ever since I left but never dared to believe would actually come true. And there I was. Part of that big old dysfunctional family again. I got my ‘Haa-aay!’ back!
So I spent eight amazing days with wonderful friends in the one city that holds my heart.
It’s not that I don’t like my life in Denmark. I just miss New York. I want both. And for those eight days I had it. I guess that sometimes you can actually have your cake and eat it too.
But of course it had an expiration date.
Good-byes are never easy and this one was no exception. If anything, this little trip back to the past has made me even more aware of what I had in that city, and that I am no longer part of it even though it will always be a part of me.
Now I’m back to my life in Copenhagen and I am back in school. And I’m happy with that. I’m excited to start the new semester and just knowing that I can go back to New York and visit sometimes makes it a whole lot easier not having it in my everyday life.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Monday, December 17, 2007
In Repair
Too many shadows in my room
Too many hours in this midnight
Too many corners in my mind
So much to do to set my heart right
Oh it's taking so long I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, I am in repair
Stood on the corner for a while
To wait for the wind to blow down on me
Hoping it takes with it my old ways
And brings some brand new look upon me
Oh it's taking so long I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, I am in repair
And now I'm walking in a park
All of the birds they dance below me
Maybe when things turn green again
It will be good to say you know me
Oh it's taking so long I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unready
Oh I'm never really ready, I'm never really ready
I'm in repair, I'm not together but I'm getting there
I'm in repair, I'm not together but I'm getting there
Still miss it...
Too many hours in this midnight
Too many corners in my mind
So much to do to set my heart right
Oh it's taking so long I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, I am in repair
Stood on the corner for a while
To wait for the wind to blow down on me
Hoping it takes with it my old ways
And brings some brand new look upon me
Oh it's taking so long I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, I am in repair
And now I'm walking in a park
All of the birds they dance below me
Maybe when things turn green again
It will be good to say you know me
Oh it's taking so long I could be wrong, I could be ready
Oh but if I take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unready
Oh I'm never really ready, I'm never really ready
I'm in repair, I'm not together but I'm getting there
I'm in repair, I'm not together but I'm getting there
- John Mayer
Still miss it...
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Looking Back
As you might know I'm now back in Copenhagen where I've started med school. Yay!
I left Uganda in the end of July, and I meant to post some kind of recap on the whole Africa experience, but after I came back other things (like chemistry and different body parts) quickly took over my mind. Not that I've forgotten about Africa, I just haven't taken the time to sit down and put my thoughts into words.
The last couple of days I've seen a lot of people who I hadn't seen since before I left for Africa and of course they've been asking about my trip.
So, to at least say a little something, here goes:
I'm glad I went. It's been a very valuable experience and it has put a lot of things into perspective.
As expected it wasn't all positive, but it has given me a better picture of the problems that a lot of African countries face.
It's been frustrating at times. Mostly because of poor organization, which results in inefficiency and resources not being used optimally, and on a personal level it meant that there wasn't that much for me to do at the places where I was supposed to work. But being at these different projects gave me a good picture of what works and what doesn't in regards to dealing with HIV/Aids in Africa. In general I've become more sceptical of foreign aid and Western development projects, but that discussion will have to wait till some other time.
And then there was the cultural differences. (No need to mention the previous post...)
But looking back now, what I remember the most is my Maasai friends from Zanzibar. I miss hanging out with them in the afternoons, laughing with them, trying to teach them English, watching them dance and play soccer, and listening to their stories from a world so very far from my own. In spite of the fact that we come from very different places we somehow bonded. That special connection was there. I truly miss these wonderful people.
I still talk to them sometimes (they all have cell phones, of course), but communicating isn't easy since my Swahili vocabulary is slowly but surely disappearing.
But who knows? Maybe I'll see them again sometime...
Until then, Tutaonana!
Zanzibar, April 2007. Leimba, me, Lekseto, Lemunyo and Lasaro.
I left Uganda in the end of July, and I meant to post some kind of recap on the whole Africa experience, but after I came back other things (like chemistry and different body parts) quickly took over my mind. Not that I've forgotten about Africa, I just haven't taken the time to sit down and put my thoughts into words.
The last couple of days I've seen a lot of people who I hadn't seen since before I left for Africa and of course they've been asking about my trip.
So, to at least say a little something, here goes:
I'm glad I went. It's been a very valuable experience and it has put a lot of things into perspective.
As expected it wasn't all positive, but it has given me a better picture of the problems that a lot of African countries face.
It's been frustrating at times. Mostly because of poor organization, which results in inefficiency and resources not being used optimally, and on a personal level it meant that there wasn't that much for me to do at the places where I was supposed to work. But being at these different projects gave me a good picture of what works and what doesn't in regards to dealing with HIV/Aids in Africa. In general I've become more sceptical of foreign aid and Western development projects, but that discussion will have to wait till some other time.
And then there was the cultural differences. (No need to mention the previous post...)
But looking back now, what I remember the most is my Maasai friends from Zanzibar. I miss hanging out with them in the afternoons, laughing with them, trying to teach them English, watching them dance and play soccer, and listening to their stories from a world so very far from my own. In spite of the fact that we come from very different places we somehow bonded. That special connection was there. I truly miss these wonderful people.
I still talk to them sometimes (they all have cell phones, of course), but communicating isn't easy since my Swahili vocabulary is slowly but surely disappearing.
But who knows? Maybe I'll see them again sometime...
Until then, Tutaonana!
Zanzibar, April 2007. Leimba, me, Lekseto, Lemunyo and Lasaro.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Life As A Mzungu
Conversation as I was getting in a matatu (mini bus)...
Me: To Njeru?
Matatu Driver: Yes. Then you give me water!
(I was carrying a water bottle)
Me: No.
Matatu Driver: Why?
Me: Because I don't know you.
Matatu Driver: I am not your friend?
Me: No, I don't know you.
Matatu Driver: Why am I not your friend?
I didn't answer. Just like i didn't bother answering when he proceeded to ask my name and nationality. Once again I found myself ignoring a person who wanted my attention.
I don't usually consider myself arrogant but these days i guess it could be a fitting description of my behavior at times.
Unfortunately I've come to expect tiresome behavior from the Ugandans and as a result I distance myself. Too many times have strangers (like the mentioned matatu driver) started out by demanding things, or wanted to be my new best friend - or even husband - asking for my phone number after barely talking to me for a minute, or in other ways put me in a position where I've had to say no. Now I simply don't invite to conversation. I put up a front.
I know that instead of taking this behavior as a nuisance I should look at it as part of being in a different culture and try to understand what causes many Ugandans to act this way around white people, but I've run out of patience.
I thought that at positive attitude would get me somewhere, but it hasn't. It's proven easier not to greet people or be friendly.
I feel like against my will I've been assigned a role that doesn't fit me. And I'm tired of playing this part. I want to be me again.
Me: To Njeru?
Matatu Driver: Yes. Then you give me water!
(I was carrying a water bottle)
Me: No.
Matatu Driver: Why?
Me: Because I don't know you.
Matatu Driver: I am not your friend?
Me: No, I don't know you.
Matatu Driver: Why am I not your friend?
I didn't answer. Just like i didn't bother answering when he proceeded to ask my name and nationality. Once again I found myself ignoring a person who wanted my attention.
I don't usually consider myself arrogant but these days i guess it could be a fitting description of my behavior at times.
Unfortunately I've come to expect tiresome behavior from the Ugandans and as a result I distance myself. Too many times have strangers (like the mentioned matatu driver) started out by demanding things, or wanted to be my new best friend - or even husband - asking for my phone number after barely talking to me for a minute, or in other ways put me in a position where I've had to say no. Now I simply don't invite to conversation. I put up a front.
I know that instead of taking this behavior as a nuisance I should look at it as part of being in a different culture and try to understand what causes many Ugandans to act this way around white people, but I've run out of patience.
I thought that at positive attitude would get me somewhere, but it hasn't. It's proven easier not to greet people or be friendly.
I feel like against my will I've been assigned a role that doesn't fit me. And I'm tired of playing this part. I want to be me again.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Safari
As a true mzungu in Africa I, of course, had to go on a safari to take a look at the amazing wildlife.
So while back in Tanzania I met up with the Danish girls and we set out for 3 days of watching wild animals in their natural habitat... from the convenient safety of a safari vehicle, of course.
Day One: Tarangire National Park
Zebras.
Getting up close with the elephants.
As we were on the way to our camp after leaving the park we passed a giraffe hanging out by the the road.
Day Two: Ngorongoro Conservational Area
Beautiful view on the way to the Ngorongoro Crater which is an old volcanic crater surrounded by mountains and a couple of still active volcanoes. Since this is a conservational area - as opposed to a national park - the Maasai are allowed to live and graze their cattle here.
The Ngorongoro was full of animals. Mostly gazelles, wildebeest and zebras.
More zebras with hippos in the background.
Buffalo.
Lioness.
The girls.
Amazing view of the crater from above.
Day Three: Lake Manyara National Park
Baboons cleaning each others fur.
Giraffes.
Hippos.
Zebras rolling in the sand while uncle wildebeest watches.
Mommy with baby elephant.
So while back in Tanzania I met up with the Danish girls and we set out for 3 days of watching wild animals in their natural habitat... from the convenient safety of a safari vehicle, of course.
Day One: Tarangire National Park
Zebras.
Getting up close with the elephants.
As we were on the way to our camp after leaving the park we passed a giraffe hanging out by the the road.Day Two: Ngorongoro Conservational Area
Beautiful view on the way to the Ngorongoro Crater which is an old volcanic crater surrounded by mountains and a couple of still active volcanoes. Since this is a conservational area - as opposed to a national park - the Maasai are allowed to live and graze their cattle here.
The Ngorongoro was full of animals. Mostly gazelles, wildebeest and zebras.
More zebras with hippos in the background.
Buffalo.
Lioness.
The girls.
Amazing view of the crater from above.Day Three: Lake Manyara National Park
Baboons cleaning each others fur.
Giraffes.
Hippos.
Zebras rolling in the sand while uncle wildebeest watches.
Mommy with baby elephant.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
On The Bus
2 tickets Handeni-Arusha: 14000TSH (12USD)
iPod: 299USD
Travelling through Tanzania while sharing headphones with Maasai friend who can't get enough of Justin Timberlake 'Sexy Back': PRICELESS!
Maasai
Staying with the Maasai was an amazing experience. It was like entering a different world. A slower and simpler one.
Everyone was very sincere and sweet and lived seemingly carefree and happy lives. Hardly the warriors they are said to have been.
They are apparently content with what they have and do not try to pursue what we in the western world consider wealth. For them wealth is measured in cattle so they feel rich even though they in our eyes don't have much.
Of course it is easy to romanticize their way of life and they obviously have problems like anyone else (e.g. if they get sick and need to pay for a doctors visit), but staying with them made me think that there is something very genuine about them that the western world might have lost somewhere along the way.
Me with Teres and Ester who are both married to Andorois.
Ester with her two own children and some of the others.
More children. I never really found out where they all came from, but there were many hanging around taking care of each other. The smaller ones were afraid of me in the beginning (guess they don't usually see white people), but soon they were very curious. Most of the ones that are old enough go to school, but this picture was taken on the weekend.
Women and children hanging out in the afternoon. Some are making new bead jewelry, some cleaning a goat skin, some cleaning the milk gourds, some breast feeding their children, some cleaning their teeth. All the while they are chatting and laughing. Maa has got to be one of the softest sounding languages. Their chatting combined with the faint ringing of their jewelry is like a sound you want to fall asleep in.
Children singing Christian songs and dancing with an amazing joy and energy. They apparently do this every evening.
There was a party on Saturday and everyone was singing and dancing. The boy in the red was jumping which is an important part of the men's dancing. They jump straight up and down and can jump amazingly high.
Sunday morning I woke up to more singing. Everyone had gathered to bless the cattle and thank God which they do every Sunday. They are very religious and show it in a joyful way.
The women milk the cows when they are brought back to the kral in the late afternoon.
Leimba using a stick to churn the yogurt (or just old milk, depending on how you look at it) to get the lumps evened out.
It actually tasted alright. Leimba loved it and drank three mugs. (Note the previously mentioned white plastic sandals... The coat he's wearing is mine. He kept it on for four days after I lent it two him for the piki-piki ride.)
Cattle herders in front of the hut we stayed in.
Our roommates... Sheep! But you couldn't really complain. They weren't noisy and they were gone all day.
Leimba's parents: Sarai and Mainge.
Mama Lekseto with her youngest daughter. I also became very good friends with Lekseto on Zanzibar, but unfortunately he couldn't leave work to visit home with us. Mama Lekseto is also married to Mainge, so Leimba and Lekseto are half brothers. All together Mainge has thirteen children ages about 2 to 30 (they don't really know how old they are).
Departure.
I would have stayed with the Maasai for a lot longer, but as any westerner I was on a schedule and had to get back to the other reality.
We left the village on foot as the sun was setting. At first a group of friends walked with us, but bit by bit they stayed behind. The last one to say goodbye was Leimba's mother who knelt down and prayed for our safe journey before she turned around and walked back.
After that we walked in silence for a long time while the darkness settled around us. It felt like we were walking out of a dream.
Everyone was very sincere and sweet and lived seemingly carefree and happy lives. Hardly the warriors they are said to have been.
They are apparently content with what they have and do not try to pursue what we in the western world consider wealth. For them wealth is measured in cattle so they feel rich even though they in our eyes don't have much.
Of course it is easy to romanticize their way of life and they obviously have problems like anyone else (e.g. if they get sick and need to pay for a doctors visit), but staying with them made me think that there is something very genuine about them that the western world might have lost somewhere along the way.
Me with Teres and Ester who are both married to Andorois.
Ester with her two own children and some of the others.
More children. I never really found out where they all came from, but there were many hanging around taking care of each other. The smaller ones were afraid of me in the beginning (guess they don't usually see white people), but soon they were very curious. Most of the ones that are old enough go to school, but this picture was taken on the weekend.
Women and children hanging out in the afternoon. Some are making new bead jewelry, some cleaning a goat skin, some cleaning the milk gourds, some breast feeding their children, some cleaning their teeth. All the while they are chatting and laughing. Maa has got to be one of the softest sounding languages. Their chatting combined with the faint ringing of their jewelry is like a sound you want to fall asleep in.
Children singing Christian songs and dancing with an amazing joy and energy. They apparently do this every evening.
There was a party on Saturday and everyone was singing and dancing. The boy in the red was jumping which is an important part of the men's dancing. They jump straight up and down and can jump amazingly high.
Sunday morning I woke up to more singing. Everyone had gathered to bless the cattle and thank God which they do every Sunday. They are very religious and show it in a joyful way.
The women milk the cows when they are brought back to the kral in the late afternoon.
Leimba using a stick to churn the yogurt (or just old milk, depending on how you look at it) to get the lumps evened out.
It actually tasted alright. Leimba loved it and drank three mugs. (Note the previously mentioned white plastic sandals... The coat he's wearing is mine. He kept it on for four days after I lent it two him for the piki-piki ride.)
Cattle herders in front of the hut we stayed in.
Our roommates... Sheep! But you couldn't really complain. They weren't noisy and they were gone all day.
Leimba's parents: Sarai and Mainge.
Mama Lekseto with her youngest daughter. I also became very good friends with Lekseto on Zanzibar, but unfortunately he couldn't leave work to visit home with us. Mama Lekseto is also married to Mainge, so Leimba and Lekseto are half brothers. All together Mainge has thirteen children ages about 2 to 30 (they don't really know how old they are).Departure.
I would have stayed with the Maasai for a lot longer, but as any westerner I was on a schedule and had to get back to the other reality.
We left the village on foot as the sun was setting. At first a group of friends walked with us, but bit by bit they stayed behind. The last one to say goodbye was Leimba's mother who knelt down and prayed for our safe journey before she turned around and walked back.
After that we walked in silence for a long time while the darkness settled around us. It felt like we were walking out of a dream.
"But I am plagued by the thought that we have arrived at a moment in history when this is about to be swept away. Of course the swell has been gathering force for a century or more, since Joseph Thompson first saw 'the most peculiar band of men to be found in Africa'. Now the wave is about to break. How many Masai will be doing this in twenty years' time?"
Justin Cartwright 'Masai Dreaming'
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