until we meet again...

so this is it. my final night in kampala. i can't believe how quickly the month has come and gone and yet how impactful this short time has been. i'll miss a lot of things about uganda; the friendly people, the warm weather, the beautiful landscape. and i'm grateful above all else for the much-needed humbling i've received.

as a farewell, i'd like to share photos of some of the amazing things i've seen and the extraordinary people i've met.

thank you so much for following me on my journey...and stay tuned for my upcoming travels to tanzania!

all love,

ghazaleh

safari!

i'll let the pictures speak for themselves (only to say, i nearly cried when i spotted my first giraffe...)

this was the most fun i've had in recent memory...maybe i'll pursue a new career in nature photography... :)

i heart ugandan tv

yeah, yeah, i know…it’s a shame to admit that i’ve been watching a lot of tv since I’ve come here. even worse to tell you that i’ve actually enjoyed it. but i strive to give accurate accounts of my experiences, and i’d be remiss in excluding the hours spent in my hotel room lazing in front of the tube (in this case you really can’t blame me—since the bombings of july 11, everything in kampala’s dead at night anyway).

but why, you may ask, do i so thoroughly relish an otherwise mundane activity i could do in my own home? i’ll tell you: 1) the incredibly in-depth coverage of world news; and 2) the really really bad entertainment programming.

let’s start with the first – the news. there are no fewer than 5 channels dedicated to global news coverage - and i’m not talking about skewed partisan pandering (*ahem*fox*ahem*) or glorified celebrity fluff talk (i’m lookin at you, cnn) – i’m talkin old-fashioned, down and dirty, hard-hitting news…like the kind your grandpa used to mutter and shake his head at. not only is the coverage refreshingly raw, but the breadth is beyond anything we ever get in the states. did you know war, famine and natural disasters lead to actual death and destruction?? it’s true – i’ve actually seen it with my own eyes, thanks to the news here.

now on to the next – entertainment tv. where do i even begin? is it the movie channel dedicated exclusively to lifetime made-for-tv movies made circa 1998 i love? or is it the telenovelas that are horribly dubbed into english (example from a recent episode of “la tormenta” where a mob of villagers is chasing a suspected witch to the outskirts of town: “you are mistaken, dimitrio. you want to burn maria-teresa on a stick, but do you not remember how you felt when the townspeople wanted to hang you by the neck only last year? this was not a good feeling, no?”)? or perhaps it’s the local programming, which consists of such shows as “trickstars”- an african candid camera dedicated solely to swindling unsuspecting victims out of money, jewels or property. ahh, but why chose? i can love them all…and i do!

(the only thing i don't get is the national obsession with big brother africa - there is an entire channel dedicated to watching the contestants 24-hours a day!)

but i digress from my original sentiment: thank you, ugandan, tv…you’ve livened my stay beyond what I can express…

utterly otherly

to all those who have traveled to far off places and felt like an alien landing from outer space: i totally get you now. sure, i’ve been an “other” plenty of times before (from being dubbed the “exotic princess” in college, to being ridiculed by my own people in iran for my manner of speech and system of beliefs), but never have i felt so completely different than i have during my trip to uganda.

on the one hand is the peculiar interest that i have garnered all over the countryside, simply for being “white”. adults stare, little children trail me rubbing my skin or yanking my hair, and everyone everywhere raises the alarm that “mzungu!” (ugandan for “whitey”) has arrived the minute i touch down in the villages. a talking dog would have caused less curiosity. although strange, and in a way reminiscent of what life as a b-list celebrity might be like, this type of attention has been harmless for the most part.

what’s really bothered me is the elevated status i’ve been awarded next to my own peers, for lack of any qualification other than my appearance. during my work travels, it was a given that i would always be offered the front seat, the largest hotel room and first consideration for times to rest, eat, whatever. this, in spite of being in the company of much more senior personnel (both in age and professional standing) from the ministry of health and partner organizations. while ugandans are quite a friendly and hospitable people, i have a hard time believing that was the true origin or sole motivation of this behavior (maybe they thought i expected even demanded such treatment? and there were times i could swear that even my companions were reluctant to be seen with me, loathing the added attention i brought to every mundane task.

i have no deep, sweeping commentary on the whole thing. i can only say that i’ve been disturbed by it, and can now sympathize with all my fellow sideshow freaks. sorry, bearded lady, i never knew you had it so tough…

It’s the economy (or, rather, development), stupid!

For the past three weeks, I’ve been traveling the Ugandan countryside, meeting with workers in the most remote rural health posts. Our job (to keep it simple) is to assess whether interventions aimed at improving the recruitment and performance of health care workers in these resource-poor areas are actually taking effect. While the results of the evaluation are yet to be tallied, one thing is for certain: the work we do, though sound in intention and application, is like trying to fill the ocean one bucketful at a time.

Now, I’m not trying to undermine the value of service in public health (lest I render myself obsolete); but during these journeys I’ve come to realize that at the heart of everything we’re striving for, every health target at which we aim, is a rotting core of economic underdevelopment. To say the conditions here are poor, abject, wretched, whathaveyou, would be to vastly understate the case. A quick run down the list of lacks will include anything from basic needs (food, water, shelter) to basic services (sanitation, electricity, transportation)…and let’s not even concern ourselves with luxuries such as clothing, education, or employment. In this context, you soon come to question the impact of narrowly focused health interventions. In other words: What good is a dumb ol’ program on health workers when the very foundation of human subsistence is so precarious?

So, ah-ha! I’ve got it! It’s all about broad-scale development, right? Not so fast... Despite the decades-long infusion of foreign aid in every area of development (which recently passed the half trillion mark), Africa maintains the dubious distinction of housing the most corrupt and ineffectual governments; governments which preside over the biggest slice of the world’s impoverished populations. It has widely been argued in scholarly articles (letmegooglethatforyou) that the very concept and content of foreign aid is what lies at the epicenter of Africa’s reverberating wave of poverty, underdevelopment and economic dependence.

And yet here I am, a product of just such aid, wandering the Ugandan countryside marveling in horror at the raw display of indigence and wondering to myself: What am I really doing here?

the mountain pub

hot, stone enclosure seething with smoke…blazing flames reaching up to lick splattered grease off the walls.. barely visible are dark, sweaty figures moving in the thickness … no light anywhere except that provided by millions of stars and the cloudy milky way reaching across the expanse of the sky…and in front of you, with what little bit of dim is broken by the firelight, rests a plate of the most celestial fried pork. Mouth-size pieces of ribs from the cut of your choosing, chopped by machete on the hollowed out bowl of an old tree trunk, are sent swimming into a bubbling cauldron bath, steeped in the juices of all the pieces that came before it…crisped inside and out by the boiling oil, but made tender by the shock of heat…bone, fat, flesh…all merge in a blissful sensory confluence…

…and that, my friends, is the mountain pub. jealous?

the texture of africa

it’s hard to explain what it feels like to be here. i’ve traveled all over the world, and each place i’ve seen has its distinct flavor. but africa, africa has a texture. everything about it is rich in a way that’s new and more intense than anything i’ve felt prior.

its sounds: the chorus of wildlife singing its never-ending score outside my window; the squeal and giggle of the ubiquitous children; the clamor of the kampala bustle; the low rhythm of drum beats seeping out from every car, house and shop…

its sights: the throngs of brightly draped ugandans crowding all corners of my vision; the verdant landscape, unfurling in lush waves across miles of horizon; the expanse of sky, deep blue by day, at night an inky black, teeming with stars…

its smells: the ripe tang of human bodies; the saccharine drip of syrupy watermelons and mangoes; the toxic mingling of exhaust and burning trash that pierces straight to your inner brain...

and its feel: the temperate breeze swirling through my hair; the gritty coat of clay dirt on my eyes, my skin, my teeth; the warmth of each sincere smile and lingering handshake; the contrast of multiple realities layered one on top of the other…

at every moment i am utterly awash in africa, taking it in from all senses, on all levels. and i am gradually beginning to understand the binding spell its cast on so many others...and falling victim…

pineapples don’t grow on trees (and other things i've learned this week)

don't laugh. i really didn't know. i mean, i guess i never thought about how pineapples grew in the first place. well anyway, now i know... and here are some other things i've learned during my first week in uganda:


it’s pronounced wah-tah, not water (learned after numerous perplexed expressions and one particular waiter who brought me a plate of mashed plantains…?)

outside is better than inside for every activity

you can slow it waaaay down and still get it done somehow (less the stress of rushing)

silences are not awkward, it is only you who is akward

peanuts (called g-nuts) make a purple stew when you grind them up, eating with your hands is an acceptable form of fun (for me anyway), and real fish actually come with many many bones

childhood may just be a figment of our social construction

the only thing more annoying than mosquitoes (or, rather, mo-sqweetos) is mo-sqweeto nets

if you keep your wants simple, you will rarely be disappointed

the reason everyone comes back from africa with pictures of smiling children is because the children are constantly following you, smiling

people are willing to sit through anything you want to teach them, long as you give them a certificate at the end

and, most importantly:

everyone is your seestah or your bruthah, and that’s how you keep the love flowing…

Afield I go...

Friends,

Please pardon my delay in posting...I've been busy working with our local counterparts to prepare an in-field assessment for launch early tomorrow. I'll be travelling to some more remote areas of Uganda, so will likely be out of internet's reach until the end of the week (*gasp*).

Don't worry, though, I'll be taking dutiful notes on my experiences and will report back as soon as I am able.

For now, I'll leave you with the contradiction I awoke to this morning: Beautiful clear sunlight...cool, dewy air...the sound of cranes whooping in the distance....and the smell of burning trash searing my lungs....


...and away I go!

welcome to africa, my sister!

it took 22 hours to arrive, but merely ten minutes on ugandan soil to engage in my first political discussion. as we trotted along the dark, dusty road from entebbe to kampala, kasim, the cab driver, described the sad state of affairs as he saw them: yes, uganda is a wonderful place...my family, my life is here...but let me tell you, there is no system here that works. you want an education? you have to know somebody. you want a job? you better know somebody. you get sick and need help? well in that case, you better start praying.

kasim lamented the interminable reign of their leader, yoweri museveni, and described "first-hand" accounts (i have seen it, i swear to you!) of government corruption and greed. what started as a promising rebirth from the suffering inflicted under idi amin, museveni's once-heralded economic and social stability have slowly given way to a regression to the lowest political denominator. mutiple violent fronts (in congo and against the lord's resistance army in the north) and the leader's rapacious appetite for control have eroded uganda's hard-fought gains. and with the abolishment of term limits in his own favor, museveni became, in kasim's words, "just another african leader."

but not to worry, kasim assured me: despite all this, we still care for our families, we still love life and we still dance...that is the only way forward. welcome to africa, my sister!

farewell, phnom penh

this it is, folks... time has finally caught up with me and i'm relishing my final moments in cambodia. it's befitting that i should end this brilliant trip with a weekend of birthday revelry (please forward all gifts to my parents house in rockville, thanks) and the celebrations will also be the reason why this is the last entry i'll make from my little desk here in cambodia.

worry not, though...i promised i would regale you with more tales of my travels and regale i shall! just not now. it's my last day of work and i've got to finish two major reports and then pick up a friend from the airport and rush home to get ready for tonight's extravaganza (full of good food, great cocktails and karaoke, by decree of the birthday princess) and...and...and...

with time having flown the way it has, i've barely had a second to absorb the impact of my impending departure, but i'll ruminate on the 30+ hour trip home and be sure to wrap it all up with a neat, insightful bow.

oh! and don't let me forget to tell you about india, hanoi, diving in ko tao, the work i've done, the friends i've made...and on and on...

i promise your patience will be well-rewarded. ok, maybe not well-rewarded .. or even really rewarded...just...well...you know...i'm gonna write some stuff and post some pics..whatever...

gotta run now...love and kisses from phnom penh!

movin' on up!

like a gift sent from up on high, i received an email from a friend two days ago asking if i wouldn't mind house-sitting for an acquaintance of hers. "it's a nice place," she assured me, "you should check it out."

as it turns out, nice doesn't begin to descibe it. behind a private gate, monitored by a 24-hour guard, lies the 4-story villa of a spanish u.n. employee and her family. beautifully designed and tastefully appointed, this is the kind of house you imagine a proper high-end expat occupying. so what am i doing there? and where did i even come from?

i didn't take the time to explain earlier, but in my first weekend in phnom penh, i secured a sweet little apartment for myself in a neighborhood endearingly referred to as "ngo-land." the area consists primarily of development organizations and the homes of the people who run them, but it is still dotted with khmer enclaves. i happened to find just such a building: a slightly run-down three-story structure with a top-floor apartment available for rent. none of that frilly expat business for me, i thought. i was gonna live the way khmers in my neighborhood did. the apartment had no air conditioning, only basic furnishings and was on a block with no other foreigners in sight. i was comfortable enough there, but a few of the bonus features started slowly to wear at my resolve.

first there was my neighbor's prize-winning cock-fighting rooster, who was given free run of the grounds. all day and all night (NO EXAGGERATION), the lil pest would strut about proclaiming his champion status to all. even when miles away, out with friends or busy at work, his prideful crow would still be ringing in my ears.

then, there were the noodles. on the corner, right at the bottom of the building, was a popular moto driver hangout that started frying up khmer eats at 6 in the morning and continued til all hours. the first week or two, it was kind of nice waking up to the aroma of noodles crisping in a pan. but once the novelty wore off, all i was left with was a closetful of clothing that smelled like week-old chinese take-out.

worst of all, though, were the ants. oh, the ants. tiny in size but impressive in number, they marched all about the apartment in constant search of any thoughtlessly discarded crumb. everything with even a hint of edibility was kept in the fridge and the after-dinner sweep became a necessary ritual. the back-breaking straw came three days ago during my morning face wash. i had just rinsed off and, with eyes half-shut, groped for my washcloth and gave my mug a good wipe. leaning into the mirror to survey the results, i noticed a single teeny ant smushed on my cheek. confused, i looked down at my once-blue washcloth only to find that it was now a mottled brown--swarming with ants! if a girl can't even complete a simple skin ritual in peace, then you know it's time to go.

but who am i to complain? that apartment provided me shelter from the rain, plenty of room to store my things and a safe(ish) place to rest my head at night (albeit on a bed with craters so big you could sit in them). compared to most, i was sitting pretty. oh by the way, did i mention that to counteract the heat, i had to open the windows, which let in mosquitoes that made a ghazaleh buffet out of me every night? yeah, there was that too. but i digress...

point being, when i got the offer to housesit for someone in a much better position, i jumped at the chance. within ten minutes of the email, i was making copies of the housekeys and running off to pack my things. i moved in yesterday and have wasted no time in making myself at home. the great thing is that the owners will be returning on my last night in town, so i won't ever have to go back to my old place.

despite my obvious glee, there is a tinge of sadness to this story. i'll miss the two little girls next door that hung around practicing their english with me, i'll miss the simplicty of the place (that went rather well with the "development chic" style that i'm sporting these days) and i'll even miss the stupid rooster and his incessant cawing (um, maybe). but i'll do my best to be strong and not cry myself to sleep in my new huge, comfy bed.

taste of bangkok

the two weekends' sandwiching my trip to india (to be detailed in a later entry) were spent in bangkok, fulfilling the pent-up consumer hunger that had built over my month in cambodia. it's true phnom penh has plenty by way of restaurants, bars and the like, but when it comes to familiar flagships of good ol' material life in the states, it's a vast empty terrain. no mcdonald's, no starbucks and no multiplex cinemas.


in some ways it's been refreshing to live a life devoid of any monuments to western capitalism (besides, i eat mcdonalds once a year, don't drink coffee and see about one movie a season), but there's something strangely comforting about being in the presence of those familiar symbols. while in bangkok i succumb to my every material want and was astonished at the city's ability to satisfy, no matter the level of my rapacity. from the chaotic chachutek weekend market to the refined siam paragon mall (with stores so high end i dared not even enter them), bangkok was my greedy respite from the "development" life in phnom penh. i shopped to the point of fatigue, i took in a v.i.p. showing of shrek three (you pay extra bucks to enjoy the film from a love seat with blanket at all) and i helped myself to some burger king fries. and my, how good it felt!


not to be overlooked: i also visited a few famous spots (like the reclining golden buddha and chinatown), did my fair share of gay clubbing with a good friend and got the most exhilirating traditional thai massage (complete with elbows, knees and spine-twisting maneuvers).

best of all was the street food. in cambodia i shy away from most food served off wheels or in alleys, but in thailand i couldn't take the variety of offerings down fast enough. every kind of satay, fried noodle dish, curry and soup was at my disposable and you better believe i ate it all. hands-down best thai food i've ever had was in some back alley of chinatown (see photo below). mm-mm!

being as enraptured by the sights and commodities as i was, i again failed to concentrate my photographic efforts ( i swear i'll have to make the rounds again someday solely to capture everything on film), but here are a few shots i managed to snap amid the frenzy.






chinatown




wat arun temple



bangkok nightlife





the reclining buddha (notice the size compared to the doorway)



buddha face



spirit house



chinatown alley



street food



bangkok taxi


behind the docks




street curry--MMM!

and the count-down begins...

i could hardly believe it when i realized that today marks my one-month count-down back to the states, which means: not only will i be leaving here in 30 short days but i've already been here six weeks!

in the time that i've spent in and around cambodia, i've grown to really love the region. it is admittedly a little ignorant of me to refer to a complex array of peoples, cultures and histories as "a region," but i think you gather my meaning. there's a warmth and ease to life that's refreshing - albeit unique to my situation (i am well aware that i'm on a glorified vacation here) - and i'm not so certain that come august 6th, i'll be ready to be back on u.s. soil. there's still so much to learn, so much to see and (surprise) so much to eat!

not every day is sparkling; some days i could do without pushy moto drivers, the incessant crowing of my neighbor's rooster and the thin layer of sweat and dirt that encases me wherever i go. and being the sap that i am i miss my friends and family dearly. but were i an island unto myself i wouldn't mind drifiting through southeast asia for a few more months (or even years). the "lifers" i've met around here all have the same soft spot in their heart and caution against the infectious allure of this part of the world.

i know there are still many things to be seen and experienced in the remainder of my time here, but i can already feel the calendar gaining on me. ready or not, it'll soon be time to go so i guess the best i can do is enjoy every unconsumed moment as it comes my way. and, of course, share it with you.

angkor what? (i'm sooo original)

as it's been quite some while since i've written a proper entry, you'll notice that i'm on a bit of a time delay. today i'll be recounting for you my breathtaking trip to siem reap (home of the ancient angkor temples) , which took place over three weeks ago. oops.

to make up for my tardiness, i'll keep the writing to a minimum (lucky break!) and instead cram it full of pictures.

here's a brief summary: back in mid-june i made a solo journey to the north of cambodia where the intricate system of temples reside. though there are numerous sites to see (each king having tried to outdo the one before him), i had only time to take in the dazzling top picks: angkor wat (the largest and most famous), angkor thom (the one with all the mysterious smiling faces), banteay srey (the meticulously detailed pink temple) and , of course, ta prohm (known to many around the world as the "tomb raider" temple). each temple had its own form of beauty; angkor wat's is its symmetry and scale, angkor thom in the sly expressions of the scores of statues, banteay srey in its intricacy and ta prohm in the eerie creeping of nature over man's creation. by some stroke of luck i would arrive at a site minutes before the busloads of tourists and had at least a few peaceful moments at each location before being overrun by the noisy crowds.


though the temple visits themselves were awe-inspiring, the real beauty of the trip came in the form of my guide, mr. thy. on the advice of those who'd tread there before me, i hired a personal tour guru to take me around and explain every exhausting detail (you can only imagine what nerdy glee it provided me!). the information was nice, the personal attention even better...but the most edifying piece was in talking to mr. thy about his life in cambodia. over the course of two 8-hour days he described in great detail the struggles, fears, hopes and joys that he and his kin face in modern times.

in the shadow of angkor wat, he recounted tales from the dark years of pol pot; he told of how his parents were forced to marry in the labor camps, how dozens of family members were killed and how the legacy of that pain is still carried by many cambodians today. he beamed with pride at the glories of old kampuchea and emanated a resilient optimism for the future. we talked about corrupt governments, the burden of history and the capacity for the human spirit to thrive in even the most dire of situations.

as a bonus (at my insistence), mr. thy taught me a spate of khmer phrases to use during the rest of my time here. we covered all the basics: i'm hungry, i need a nap, i love to eat, etc...and i can even count to 999,999! i've impressed many a taxi driver with my budding language in the days since my trip but of all the information mr. thy gave me, the glimpse into his personal life has been the most rewarding.

and on that sappy note...some pics!

(i apologize if they're a bit on the generic side. i was so engrossed in our discussions that photography became almost an afterthought.)




ta prohm (tomb raider temple)


ta prohm doorway


ta prohm entryway


outside angkor thom


faces of angkor thom


more faces of angkor thom


bridge to ankgor thom


praying at angkor thom


apsara dancers at ankgor wat


statue at angkor wat



doorway of baneay srey


banteay srey detail



angkor wat