To the east, the midwest, and back to the Pacific

I find the east coast a little scary.  Always have - this poor midwest girl just can't handle the speed of it all - and all the black!  I forgot how much black they wear!  Coming back to the mainland is always fun and I get to go to my favorite places that Hawaii doesn't have (Target, Victorias Secret, etc) and then there are places that I forget about and it's delightful to stumble upon an old favorite place that I'd forgotten about.  Panara Bread was the big one this time (how could I have forgotten the joy of cheesy broccoli soup in a sourdough bread bowl?  and how do i live without it?)  And then there was the reminder of how hot boys look in turtle-neck sweaters (I'd forgotten that too). 

This whole trip was due to my absolute begging of my advisors to let me go to a conference on infectious diseases and climate change...kinda hypicritical I guess to fly 6000 miles to hear more about climate change (guess my carbon footprint is a little big...like sasquatch big).  But I did learn some interesting things - for one - the general conclusion is that global warming will not lead to massive outbreaks of malaria and ebola in your backard (you being my American friends).  I guess that's a good thing, but not so good for my ph.d research plan - better to find out now I guess, instead of in two years.  Some interesting not-so-healthy effects of global warming include more ragweed because more CO2 makes it grow more - like a fertilizer (my deepest condolences go out to my allergy-suffering friends) and poison ivy is going to get more poisonus.  (Which you gotta admit is kinda cool - poison ivy also likes CO2 and increased levels are showing to make more poison in the plant and a stronger poision - hello killer Poison Ivy - she was always my favorite comic book character).

Another interesting tid-bit is that more American's believe in flying-saucers than evolution.  Don't they realize we evolved from aliens?  (jk).

From DC I flew home to Wisconsin for a few days, and now I'm on my way back to Honolulu (from Milwaukee via Chicago via DC via Dalla via Los Angeles and then Honolulu...ridiculious, I know...I may have two carbon footprints by now).  I've got six weeks to finish my master's degree and if I do, I've been selected for the fellowship I've been lusting over for two years.  Although I was more than ready to get off the rock, I'll be continuing my isolation in Hawaii for 2-3 more years (but the pay will be a little better). 

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Ends, beginnings, and middles

I had my bags packed, my stuff reduced down to the bare minimum (only that which can fit into my car in one load), and one foot was out the door.  I was ready to go, I would have been happy going.  I had decided to go.  But then I got what I wanted - the fellowship I had been lusting over since before I even started going to grad school.  I had bitterly accepted defeat (probably to save face more than anything).  But then I got it, and funny how not a word was mentioned about how they discouraged me from applying. 

And now I got what I wanted, I'm starting to be more and more surprized by my ability to get "whatever I want" - I know it's been joked about in the past that I can do and get whatever I want, but the more this occurs the more it reminds me of 'be careful what you wish for senerios.'

So I've just commited myself to at least two more years in Hawaii (probably three) and to do a ph. d.  Which is something I've always wanted to do, and I get to do a project that I want to do (instead of being slave to someone else's ideas and plans).  The fellowship also opens me up to the ability to go to conferences and mingle with the brilliant minds moreso than I'd otherwise be able to. 

I'm happy.  Overall, this won't be bad.  I really feel that grad school has broke me down to nothing though.  They destroyed my confidence in the beginning and although it's been slightly re-built (in the semi-annoying fashion of an inteillectual who thinks 'common people' could never understand) it still isn't how it was.  The lack of support overall depresses me most because with a bit more guidence I could do so much more.  Looking at the hoops I've had to jump through, it's amazing I've done anything at all (other than lay in my bed and cry every day).  I can do a lot, I am a hard worker, and I'm very independent, but every once-in-awhile I need to be told I'm on the right track (becuase sometimes I'm not) and I need to be trainned.  I am here to be trainned.  I am here to learn from brilliant minds - to work with them (not entirely 'for' them). 

I by no means what to be micromanaged, and I understand that I could be in the opposite situation, which would be a lot worse (and probably unbearable for me).  But I just get so bummed out that I'm not doing more.  I really don't feel like I've done much, but yet I feel like I am working non-stop.  I'm exhausted.  Mentally, physically, spiritually.  And there is no end in sight.  There is no break in sight.  Just more work.  But this is what I wanted, what I fought for, what I demanded. 

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I've been too long in Hawaii, I don't know if I'll ever be able to return to the mainland perminantly.  I don't know how to function here.  I do get super excited about little things though.  Some things I look forward to - for instance - shopping.  I get to go shopping at Target, Victoria's Secret and Express.  And then there are amazing things that I stumble on that I've forgotten - like Panara Bread and CVS pharmacy (so much better than Longs!).  And things are so much cheaper here.  The SAME thing, in the SAME store, cheaper just becuase I'll be carrying it over the ocean instead of it going on a big ship.

I'm on the East coast right now, which has always scared it a little bit.  I'm a midwest girl - country at heart.  I had never been in a taxi till I went to college.  Public transport was something I'd never experienced either.  And the sophistication of the East coast is just so different.  My first morning at the conference I felt so wrongly dressed - how dare I wear anything that's not black?  I was presently surprized to remember how hot men are in turtleneck sweaters though - don't see many of those in Hawaii. 

The conference was really good, although it overall didn't support my cause.  Pretty much ever speaker discussed how climate change is not going to play a role in infectious disease incidence or distribution.  But they did reiterate, over and over again, how crutial a role the environment plays in disease.  So that supports my cause.  I also spent a lot of the conference being hella-neverous that the big-shot man from my university was there (and speaking).  He did talk to me a few times though, which was cool, and of course, I bumbled like an idiot - but what do you do? 

can an inatimate object hold meaning?  do you think that the necklace around my neck is a symbol of the man who has me in a noose?  is my 'lucky' pearl tying me to a man who doesn't love me?  am i being strung along on a string.  do i keep this necklace near my heart and close to me at all times becuase of him?

i hope not.  i really like the necklace.  and we both wanted to go to tahiti.  it wasn't a me making him go or him making me go.  it was a crazy adventure that i loved every minute of.  we picked the oyster together.  i narrowed it down to two and he picked it.  there was a 50/50 chance that i would have picked the same one.  the shell was a bit smaller.  it tried to decieve us, but he picked the right one - the one with the perfect pearl in it.  and that's the pearl that i wear around my neck everyday.  it's special it has meaning, with or without him.  right?  

i feel naked without it.  i never wore it around him, i never wore it on the boat.  but i wear it now everyday.  so maybe it doesn't attach me to him.  it is my pearl from the south pacific.  a stone from the mississippi that was put into a tahitian oyster which grew in the ocean that i love more than anything.  it is mine.  it is me.  it is no one else and has nothing to do with anyone else from this point forward.  it is my pearl, my lucky pearl.  no boys involved.  no him.  i need to get over him.  but i'm keeping the pearl.  amber and the pearl.  the keys were mine, but he's taking those.  and so we divide the world.  

fuck him.  fuck what he's done to me and what he keeps doing to me.  i don't think he means to, i know he doesn' t mean to.  but i can't help it.  i do need to move on, but i'm keeping the pearl. 

Ends, beginings, and middles

I feel really old, like much, much older than I should feel.  I’ve always seemed a bit older than I am.  And a lot comes from taking responsibility too seriously.  I refuse to fail, I refuse to be the girl who left northern Wisconsin and didn’t make it and had to go home.  But I’ve lost track of what I’m after.  I don’t remember the goal anymore.  Or I can’t narrow down what the original goal was.  I only went to grad school so I could get a master’s degree and convince Action Quest to let me work and teach on their college program boat that’s sailing around the world.  Now I’m lost in this academia world where I could keep going, do a PhD, then a post-doc; work for the CDC; be a professor and start my own lab and life happily ever after?  Now it almost seems like I’m expected to do that.  Why would I have done all this if it weren’t to do something better with my life?  And I sit back and look at all the pain and suffering I’ve gone though (and am going through) and it does seems silly to have suffered all of this and then not use it.  And it seems even sillier to keep up with this suffering.  But if I continue now, it will be easier than if I stop and start again.  And I may never start again.

I had a doctor tell me once he really wanted to be a marine biologist, but he got all A’s and they told him to apply to med school just to see if he got in - he did, and then he felt like he couldn’t say no because so many people who really want to go to med school can’t even get in, and he didn’t want to, but did.  And all the fringe benifits - money, job security, etc.  Now he’s a doctor,  makes lots of money, but clearly not happy.

I’ve been so focused on the goal, on the end, that I’ve forgotten what I was oringinally after.  I’ve been so busy that I’ve lost touch with myself.  Who have I become?  What happened to who I am?  How do I go back?  I don’t find enjoyment in anything right now.  I just have to get through this, find the end.  Then I can move on...but that idea almost scares me (which it never would have two years ago).  I want to cling to all that I knew, but I really don’t know anything anymore. 

I had a really amazing afternoon yesterday.  I left work and went to the north shore and did some free-diving at Waimea.  I swam out to the end of the bay and dove down and in the thick silence I could hear whales calling to each other.  There must have been three of them, differen’t piches.  On the surface there was nothing but loud cars, people screaming, and the sound of my own breath.  But underwater it was just them.  It’s a bit late in the season for whales, but I went to the ocean for answers, and they talked to me.

Things have changed, I’ve changed, and all around me have changed.  It’s sad that we can never go back.  That things will never be how they were.  I know this is okay in the end, and new memories and adventures are to be had.  I’ve just never been very good at letting go.  I’ve been pretty good at starting over, but that’s so scary right now.  I’m tired of being responsible and independent and strong.  I want to curl up in someones arms and lay in bed for days - pretending that the outside world doesn’t exist.  But there’s just no time for that right now. 

When I lose control over what’s going on with my own life I make rash decisions.  I reach out to gain some control and ‘do something.’  Something that I chose, something that I control.  And so, as if working two jobs and trying to finish my master’s thesis weren’t enough, I’m going to captain school.  I’ve wanted to for a long time, and it never really fit into my schedule.  Technically, it still doesn’t.  But I think I can take it.  Everyone keeps telling me that ‘there’s an exam’ and I’ll have to study for it.  Do you have any idea how much time I’ve spent studying in the last 18 months?  I am the queen of study.  I can pass exams that I was never supposing to.  I can do it.  This cocky attitude is never good though.

Through that decision, I’ve made another.  If I don’t get the fellowship (the one I’ve lusted over for two years now) I’m going to try to defer for a year.  (If they’ll let me).  And even if I don’t defer, I’ll be a captain and hopefully be able to work on my boat as a captain every once in a while, while continuing to work on my phd?    

As this all came about, and then I remembered that I only went to grad school to get a masters so that I could go and work on a boat that my old company had just built.  I wasn’t super serious about going to grad school till they told me they’d need someone with a masters degree to teach on board.  So where did all the ph d stuff come from anyways?  (Okay, so it all came from me house sitting for my undergrad Chair’s diabetic cat and seeing that her mail came to Dr. and Mr. and my severe feminist desires made me want that.  I want my mail to come to Dr. and Mr., so I guess that means I need a Mr too…one who isn’t a Dr.  Hmmmm.  Maybe it’s time to give up on this hope, too many complications).

And dude!  I’m 24.  What is my rush?  (I dunno, but I can’t help it).  I’d be 27 with a phd.  Who the heck is going to take a 27 year old phd seriously?  I wouldn’t.  Of course, I do change my mind every other day.  Sometimes twice a day.  Okay, I need to stop making all these life-altering decisions and finish my avian influenza presentation.  Ugh.  I just want to get on a boat right now.  

there was a girl who didn't want to get into a relationship.  So she ran away to a boat.  She figured she'd be safe there.  Safe to be with herself and only herself.  It didn't turn out that way though.  It wasn't two weeks before she found herself mildly molested (pushed up against a wall and made out with, to be exact) and that started the beginning of a much unexpected, very long relationship.  It started off as a matter of convenience, but grew into something that she really never expected.  Early on, a stranger gave a hug goodbye to the girl and he said, "Don't break his heart."  And she laughed, because she knew it wasn't her who would be the heartbreaker.  She knew that all along.  But the girl and boy were never actually something, there were no strings attached, or so it was discussed.  And the girl left, but the boy didn't go away, maybe he did, but the girl tried not to let him.  Many days past, and weeks, and months and the girl couldn't go on anymore without an explanation.  What was going on?  The boy said they were friends, and she cried.  But the calls continued, and on the next visit, it was like they were closer than they had ever been.  The girl left again, and while she was gone, she came to a conclusion of what she wanted.  While she was gone, she met another boy, whom she connected with, but yet loved and hated.  She couldn't figure him out.  But she constantly thought of the boy back home.  When she got back, she went straight to the boy, and realized everything had changed.  She tried to deal, and she questioned the boy of what she thought, but he said no. 

Girl was in a cafe one day and high school boy came up and asked her to go to a concert, she was slightly nervous and didn't know what to say.  She said yes, and started hanging out with high school boy.  he turned out to be anything but the girls type.  he was probably the furthest thing away from what she needed one could imagine, but at the same time, he was exactly what she needed.  it was like she was in high school again.  they were sitting on a couch, drinking beer, watching bad movies, and playing video games, and hanging out at open mic nights.  she had fun, and great sex.  and then one day they stopped talking, and the girl noticed her sunglasses disappeared - her very expensive sunglasses.  Bastard stole her sunglasses. 

The next week the girl's close girl friend came into town and the friend told her about new boy that she had to meet.  She met him, and he kind of ignored her, seemed like he didn't even notice her.  So she passed him off.  Then the next day they all planned to go out and new boy said she should 'wear that little black dress and those diamonds he got her in cabo.'  That night they went out and the girl was swept off her feet. 

Girl and new boy were inseparable.  Girl really liked new boy.  But new boy was leaving.  So as time went on, girl started to get attached, and got scared, and pulled away.  And as girl pulled away, she became not who she really was, and acted a bit off.  But in the end, new boy left girl without even a goodbye, and girl was really sad.  And angry, and started thinking about how good things used to be with boy. 

But in a fit of rage and misjudgment, girl went out with psycho guy.  Psycho guy had been minorly stalking girl for quite a while, and due to her sadness, and rage, and confusion, she agreed to a date.  The first date was scary and funny.  And entertaining enough, that girl had to go out with him once more, just to see what happened.  But the night before that date she got a call from boy, and boy was talking about going to Fiji and girl was so happy and excited.  She went out with psycho boy the next night though, and had the scariest date of her life.  Girl seriously misjudged this situation and almost ended up in a very bad situation.  Girl was freaked out and went home.  She checked her email and found one from boy - and boy told her that he had a new girlfriend he never told her about and from the information given to girl from boy; she realized that the last eight months of their relationship that boy had been cheating on girl...or that boy had been cheating on his new girlfriend.  Either way, boy had two girls.  And this made girl very, very sad.  She was betrayed by her friend, her friend that she desperately needed in her life.  And just like that, everything was different.  And boy was gone.  And girl felt lost in the world.  How many bad boys could girl go through in one year?

Girl searched for answers from boy, but got none.  Two months went by and she got an answer from new boy, and it was nice to have closure, but girl was still sad and tired of all of this.

As the year came to a close, and girl was making her new years resolution to avoid boys - foreign boy showed up on her doorstep with no warning.  And girl had the best week of the year.  But foreign boy lived so far away. 

And after foreign boy left, boy came to visit.  And girl thought she could hold it together, and she thought she could be okay.  And see him, and be friends, and be okay.  And she made it half way though, and boy gave her money that he owed her, and she cried.  It was as if he was paying her off.  Paying her to leave him alone.  And she cried. 

Then one day, many days later, girl read something written by new boy.  And that made her cry because she didn't understand.  Why would he write that?  What did it mean?  And it made her head spin and she was very confused.  And foreign boy was showing up again the next week.  But all she really wanted was to see boy, and get her sunglasses back.

2/10 but from 11/07

Letters of a lonely and broken heart

I adore airports – almost in a crazy way.  They have been conditioned in my mind to be the beginnings of adventure.  The escape place.  They make me feel alive.

Today was interesting in the Honolulu airport – I went to the international terminal only to be greeted with the sadness I was trying to forget.  We had been there.  My last time there was with him, and we were happy.  

I truly enjoyed traveling with him.  I longed for him to call me.  He has become the friend I cannot live without, but he didn’t call.  And although I wanted to call, I didn’t.  I restrained myself.

My matters with the other one pale in comparison to what this is doing to me.  I cannot eat, I cannot sleep.  But this trip, although not the original reason, will help me get over this.  

Why is it that broken hearts feel as they will never heal?  I am loosing more friends lately than I can take, and not making any new to make up for it.

But I must accept the end.  I’ve never been too good at letting go.  I can try to tell myself that I am better – smarter, more ambitious, prettier.  But maybe I need to accept that I am not.  I probably burdened him more than anything.  I probably brought him down.  And maybe he thinks he got nothing from the relationship.  Maybe I was a bad choice for a companion.  But I miss him so much it brings nausea and tears.  It clenches my insides as if I may convulse.

But I will not die for the lose of a love and a friend.  Another layer will grow around me, like a memory cell in the immune system.  I will be prepared for the next attach and better able to fight it off.  I hope. 

I think he loved me.  I with I could say that I know he loved me, but I don’t know.  And there have never been the reassuring words to let me know.  Maybe was has been with her all along.  Maybe I have just been a girl on the side.  Could that be?  The thought hurts inside me as if it were true.  I try to shake it off, but it doesn’t, which seems to reconfirm the truth.

Why no words from him?  Why does this not hurt him as it does me?  How is that fair?  It’s not, but life goes on.  But these thoughts need to be pushed away fro now.  This is a trip to clear my mind, to renew my soul.  And it will be.

I felt instantly better in the airport (especially escaping the long lines by my AA gold membership) and now I am over the ocean – almost there.  I am in need of a simplistic experience (not this trip).  But I have found myself wanting unnecessary things lately.  It is time to stop that.  I am not that person; I don’t need or want much. 

This may not be politically correct, but the Japanese flight attendants remind me of the ‘It’s a small world’ dolls at Disney World.  They are so perfect with their porcelain faces and dark eyes.  So beautiful. 

I have prided myself by my use of chop sticks today, first eating Chinese in the food court, and now on the plane.  Hawaii has at least taught me something.  My aversion to Asia may be kind of silly – I love the food; can’t live without the tea, so maybe this will be even better than I thought.  

But now, back to my book on Marie Antoinette – sometimes other’s sad misfortune makes me feel less able to be sad about my own minor misfortune.

Later:

The masks people wear (Japanese) kind of freak me out.  Do they have something or is it just for protection?  I’m assuming protection.  It makes me almost feel like because I’m not wearing a mask that I am exposing them to me.  Or that I am not being safe for myself and wearing a mask to protect me.  Like I’m having unprotected sex in the airplane or something.

We’re still two hours in the air.  That almost seems to short.  I need more time to think.  Flying is like my vortex, my escape from the real world, my time-freezing machine.  I’m not happy yet.  I don’t’ want to get off the plane till I’m happy gain.  I want to hover indefinitely. 

~Perhaps this longing I have to wander in the wilderness across open spaces is connected to some even deeper urge to follow the herds between their seasonal pastures.  –Rick Ridgeway

~I am not an empire builder, I am not a missionary, I am not truly a scientist.  I merely want to return to African and continue my wanderings.  –Joseph Thompson

~On foot, the pulse of Africa comes through your boot.   You are an animal among others, chary of the shadowed places, of sudden quite in the air.  –Peter Mathiessen

~I would rather say I’m sorry I did it, than I wish I had done it

~Kabule, Kabule, Kwa majo, pshagula nizere!

Wind, wind, take me home to mama, I’m coming!

Nile special. Malaria. Children’s hospital. Bubbles. My first lion at Murchison. Open mouthed hippo. Matthew. White water rafting the Nile. William. Throwing ice at Ulf. Teaching Simon to pipette. Salsa dancing at Rouge. Playing pool. Talking till security guard told us to go to bed before the elephant would get us. Ndare dancers with clay pots and dancing with Fred. Fred’s daughter talking about DDT. The child at Kasingati who grabbed me out of the horrid, hot, hospital. Boda bodas. Swedified.  Inga and Sven.  Almost getting run over in Kampala city center trying to find the bus. Crying when Daria left.  Gorillas.  The bus getting to the gorillas. Flea boy. Meningococcal. Getting a vaccine. Saying goodbye. The children at the animal orphanage. Rubber chicken with Fi and Josh. Hiking with Fi. Storytime with Josh. Kitinga in sneakers. The top of Kili. Sliding down to Kibo hut. Black colobus monkeys.  Indoitaliaino with Fi, Josh, Lisa, and Mel. Honorary Canadian (with a pin). My wanna-be husband of 12 from Moshi. The shark tail jellyfish.  Miss Kili pageant. The Serengeti leopard. Female lions on pride rock against blue skies. The zebras, elephant, and buffalo in the Ngorongoro campsite. The Canadians Josh and Brian.  Male lions in Ngorongoro. Making the ferry to Zanzibar. Tourist touts.  Jambo, Jambo cds. Eddie at Jambo guesthouse. Zazibar proposals – walking like a giraffe? Spice tour and Dutch couple. Monsoon’s spice tea. Swimming with bottlenose dolphins. Seahorse, frogfish, crocodile fish, and dhow wrecks. Diving in the Indian Ocean off a wooden dhow. My climatologist and doctor dutch couple. Sailing on a true dhow with the Aussie guy. Food poisoning from the Serena. Red collobus monkeys and JC. The Moshi Peace corps girl. The Zanzibar Café.  The moshi coffee shop.  The American girl divemaster.  Sunset at the African House wit sheesha.  Sheesha at the Lebanese Cowboy bar. Banana wine. Baboons. 

6/9 – Zanzibar

I’m sitting on a deck of the African Hotel in a comfy leather chair and in front of me is the Indian Ocean.  It’s calm and blue.  There are dhows – Arab sailboats.  They remind me of those on Lake Titicaca.  They are hand made.  No fancy modern technology, no plastic, no rubber.  Just wood and nails and a canvas sail, held by a strong man.  No wenches, no auto pilot, no GPS, no lights.  Just wind power and a little bit of man power.  Sweat built these boats out in the hot sun.

I got to Zanzibar yesterday with Brian and Josh – my new Canadian counterparts.  I met them in Ngorongoro Crater campsite and then met up with them on the bus from Arusha/Moshi to Dar.  We almost missed the ferry to Zanzibar, but at the last minute got there.  Two and a half hours on the Indian Ocean we watched the deep orange sun dip down over the blue ocean we arrived on the small island and it was dark already.

The smell of saltwater in the air reminded me of home.  I was instantly homesick for the ocean.  It had been so long since I smelled it; I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.  From the second we got on land we were hounded by tourists touts.  But some of them got us to our hotel – the Jambo Guesthouse. 

Soon we were showered and read for the night and we set out to find Monsoon’s Restaurant.  Stone Town is a maze of narrow, unorganized pathways with multi-story buildings on either side.  It must have been beautiful in its day – but now it has been neglected, unloved, eaten away by saltwater, ocean breeze, and poverty.  It still calls to you, like an old woman who used to be beautiful.  Sort of a soft “Remember me.”

Monsoon’s restaurant was amazing – I was like an Arab princess lounging on the floor, barefoot on pillows.  Arabian music played in the background while we ate spiced rice, calamari, fish, and many other Swahili/Arab dishes.  My favorite was the spiced tea after dinner with a small bit of peanut fudge (which was amazing).  This was my heaven – Arab princess drinking spice tea, just like Princess Jasmine, waiting for Aladdin. 

Today we wandered the streets, getting lost along the way.  The narrow streets can sometimes fit one car, but there are no rules about which way you can go.  Bicycles and children run by.  We saw a great game of soccer down one winding street.  While lost we found the market which was a sensual experience as if my mother’s spice cabinet had exploded in a sauna – with a bit of raw, rotting fish in the background. 

I bought all sorts of spices: cinnamon, vanilla, cumin, saffron, cloves, and chilies.  Also tea: vanilla, banana, cinnamon, and other spice teas.

Zanzibar is a sensory overload – too much to take in at once.  Ocean, sunset, spices, raw fish.  Smells-tastes-heat-occasional breeze.  Everywhere you look your eyes are entertained: blue ocean, blue sky, white stone, Arab children saying “jambo”, old men sitting on stones watching the day pass by.  Beautiful paintings and scarves in hidden shops.  You must keep your eyes open to find them.

I like it here.  Island life with spice.  No Jimmy Buffett, no Blue Hawaiian cocktails.  It’s relaxing, but other than the tourist touts – not over whelming, not over powering, I like it.

6/9 – Zanzibar night

After the African Hotel we went to the Formodoni Gardens where a mass street food party happens each night.  We ate Zanzibar pizza (chapatti with egg, meat, and veggies) and banana and chocolate pizzas.  And fish kabobs with barracuda, marlin, lobster, and shark.  We also had sugar cane juice and spice tea.  It was amazing and we finished with a drink at the Old Fort – Tanzanian gin and tonic.

6/11

I’m so happy – I found a bookstore and restocked on books, so now I can finish the book I have (I was fearful to finish it before I had anything else to read, because then I wouldn’t have had anything to read). 

I went scuba diving today – more than anything; it made me homesick for the boat.  At the same time, I realized that I really like diving – but I don’t know if I love it.  I can live without it.  Mostly I was happy that I hadn’t forgotten how to do it.  I was fearful for a second.  But, just like riding a bike, it came back to me.  I did two dives off Stone Town – the first was an 80ft wreck (maybe a Dhow?)  And the highlight was a crocodile fish.  It looked like a scorpion fish, but with a big croc mouth. 

On the second dive we saw a seahorse all by itself out in the sand.  There was also a frogfish and two huge lionfish (they really do make Hawaiian lionfish look like turkey fish!)  There was also a blue spotted sting ray and four batfish. 

These were my first dives in the Indian Ocean – now I only have the Arctic Ocean left, and no intention of doing that any time soon.  It also dawned on me that I haven’t been diving since I got off the boat in August.  Ten months.  Who knew I could go that long without diving? 

I don’t know what I am going to do when I get back to the US.  My re-entry will be in the LAX airport and I don’t know how I will deal with no one saying hi to me.  Here, you absolutely MUST say hi and Jambo to everyone who walks by you.  It is insanely rude not to.  You should also stop, shake hands, and ask how they are and about their families.  It’s all really time consuming – so you should plan accordingly when figuring out how long it will take you to walk somewhere. 

In Moshi and Stone Town you must also be prepared for the tourist touts.  They will say hi, ask how you are, start walking with you, ask where you’re from and if you like their home.  And then they will try to sell you a tour, a painting, cashew, Jambo, Jambo CD, etc.  They are hard to get rid of.  And you must be nice, but stern.

My favorite thing about busing from Kampala to Dar was to watch what the produce people were selling change throughout the landscape.  Every few hours the bus would stop and pick up/drop off people and if you look out your window fruits, veggies, toys, sunglasses, etc would be hoisted up to the windows. 

In Kampala it was passion fruit, oranges, pineapple, and bananas.  Half way to Bwindi was onions.  To Nairobi there were more bananas, mangoes and then we moved into maize and potato country.  To Dar, my favorite was the long, skinny bags of oranges.  People went crazy for them – at least half the bus bought a bag and then they all scrambled to find a place on the bus to put them.

My Canadians left me today – the hypochondriac, gay, Canadian (Josh) decided that his ear hurt too much to go swimming with the dolphins, so they headed to the North a day early.  It’s okay though, I think I’d had my fill of Josh.  I did like Brian though. 

Last night was really sketchy though.  We were at the gardens and the “town crazy” decided to scam Josh.  He said that Josh broke his Jambo, Jambo cd that he wanted to sell.  The guy freaked out and threatened to pull a knife on Josh and “slit him” and then bite off his ear.  Lovely.  He liked me though (who knows why) I was his dada (sister).  He wanted 10,000 shillings for the CD and this lasted for at least one and a half hours.  In the end the boys got the cops involved, somehow, and our friend, the good guy, got in through.  Sometimes it’s probably best just to pay the money.

Yesterday we went on a spice tour.  It was nice – not amazing, just nice.  We also went to the slave caves and the beach.  I paid 20,000 shillings for a beach chair – but I think it was worth it.  I just longed to sleep in the shade as the slow, Zanzibarian world went by.  The beach was beautiful and blue ocean, no clouds.  And fishermen in dhows where everywhere.

6/12

Today was a relaxing day.  I had my ticket from Entebbe to Nairobi cancelled so that I only have to get back to Nairobi to fly home.  (This makes me nervous though because Nairobi is scary).  Then I also found out that my mom changed my ticket from London to Chicago/MKE instead of London-LAX-ORD-MKE.  Which makes it so much easier for me (and makes more sense).

Then I went to the Serena hotel and pretended I was rich while drinking tea and eating a cheesecake brownie on their colonial-style patio that overlooks the ocean.  You cannot see Stone Town at all, just blue sky and blue ocean.  You could be anywhere on the beach.

Later I had lunch at Monsoons and then joined the Dutch couple and their Mexican friend for sunset and dinner at the African house.

6/15

If you come to Africa do not expect anything to happen as you think it will.  Any plans you have are likely to be changed.  Even if you paid dearly to have things go just the way you wanted, they won’t.  This is Africa.  Your imagination cannot begin to envision what you will see.  And once you’ve seen it, your conscious mind most likely won’t be able to comprehend what you have seen.  My advice would be to go without expectation.  Let what happens, happen.  Don’t fight against the things you think, “Won’t work out.”  With “patients” and “pole, pole” they will work out, just differently than you had planned.

Sometimes it will be terrible and you will be on a hot, smelly but for 18 hours, but if you forget the bad, and look up to the sky you may see the Southern skies filled with stars like holes to Heaven.  And if you’re cold, wet, and hungry with no way to fix these ailments you may find kindness and friendship in strangers to the extent you never thought possible.

And if you really try had to have a perfect experience, something different from everyone else and you spend your hours arranging it, you might just find yourself on the “lovey duvy” tourist boat with an engine instead of a sail.  Sometimes in Africa you have to accept that things aren’t going to go as you planned, but every once in awhile, pole-pole, with a little patients, you can get things exactly as you wanted, and even better than you could have ever imagined.

Or at least that’s how it’s been for me. 

Last night the Dutch couple and I planned to go out on a traditional dhow boat, instead they tried to put us on the not-so-traditional tourist sunset cruise.  We didn’t want that – so we nicely expressed our issues and an hour later this Aussie guy shows up with a sail and brought in a 10ft hand-built traditional dhow.  An hour later we were sailing into the sunset.

It was amazing – probably in my top five African experiences.  I love to sail, and to be out in the ocean on a boat with no gadgets, no GPS, no nav lights, nothing but wood and a canvas sail was fantastic.  The sail was tied to one beam with slip knots!  And the back rope was held by the captain.  The rudder was operated by hand and the boat had no floor. 

To sail without an engine is always a ‘primitive’ experience – just using the wind as energy.  But this was even more so, this is how they did it 500 years ago.  And it works well.  We cut through the waves as if we were on a luxury sailboat (maybe even better).  Right as the sun was going down we stopped at a little sand spit and walked around.  There were hundreds of birds landing and taking flight again against the ever reddening sky.

As the huge sun sank below the clouds we were almost back to Stone Town and we drifted to the beach just as the first star came out.  I didn’t feel like a tourist, I felt like I had just been out sailing with friends (rafiki). 

Yesterday afternoon I was having coffee at the Zanzibar coffee house and across the street is a small children’s school and they were singling the “ABC” song and “BINGO”.  It was neat. 

I love hearing Swahili.  Right now I’m in another coffee house having spice tea and the women working here are in the corner spreading gossip in Swahili. 

The American man who went diving with me in Mnemba said to me, “It’s amazing to hear so many different languages – but laughter is always the same.”  At the moment Swahili was being spoken, as well as Dutch, German, Spanish, and English. 

Sometimes in Africa your expectations will be surpassed.  It won’t be what you expected, or how you expected it, but it will be amazing and it may even change your life, or at least maybe a little.  Or at least it did for me.

It’s clear that my trip is coming to an end and I’m getting all dreamy and nostalgic.  I have gotten back into the writing mode, but it’s a bit late.  I want to leave Africa behind because I want to go to Wisconsin and see my parents.  I have so much to tell them and show them.  But I don’t want to go back to Hawaii.  I don’t want to be unhappy again.  I like being happy.

I think this trip has given me back some of my confidence.  So maybe I’ll be able to go back to UH and be more demanding and decisive.  I need t make a list with deadlines and meet all of those.  It’s time to be on a schedule.  It’s time to get things done.  But for now I’m still in Africa – five more days.  How did two months go by so fast?  But yet, the malaria course seems long ago, ages away.  Dream-like almost.

I’m very glad I came to Africa for the course first.  It helped me to get my bearings in Africa and to really see and understand the dangers as well as what isn’t a danger.  And Matthew and Yenen also helped me to be daring.  (I would have never eaten a grasshopper by myself).  Once I realized a little diarrhea won’t kill me and that all Africans don’t want to rob me – it was all good.

And the course gave me a more ‘real’ African experience.  If you want, you can come to Africa and be completely sheltered from how life really is here.  You can hide away in fancy hotels and pay to have the natives sing to you, and I’m not saying that’s bad – some people may be better of not seeing the real thing.  But it has been nice, for me, to see a bit of both sides. 

I’ve played doctor a bit on this trip – with my newly gained knowledge of tropical diseases as well as learning/gaining/having a lot of travel sickness experience I think it’s been okay.  The Canadian, Josh, was my biggest patient.  And I was most happy to give advice, and then have him ask the actual doctors on the trip and have them give the same advice (whoho). 

I’ve learned a lot about Africa on this trip – I never really knew too much.  In the US we are just taught that Africa is ad, corrupt, disease-ridden place where they will rob, rape, and murder you (and you’ll get AIDS).  I just finished my book on the last 50 years of Africa and it’s been really eye opening.  It was us who caused Africa to be how it is.  And it wasn’t just one thing that the whites did.  It was bad idea after bad idea after bad action and poor judgment.  It seems as if from the first white person’s visit to Africa the white man has never though of ‘what is best for Africa’ but instead ‘what is best for us.’  And it still seems to be that way.

The other problem (as I see it) is the aid factor.  We have given so much money in aid (which has almost never gotten to who needs it in the proper manner).  And now we’re not giving it (to some countries) and even more disaster is occurring. 

It’s like the little rich boy who was spoiled and given everything his whole life and at 18 they cut him off.  He has no idea how to make his own money or how to work or live on his own.  It doesn’t’ work.

And Africa is really unlucky with disease.  A lot of the disease, with less poverty, better hygiene, proper drinking water, etc would make the disease burden considerable less, but they probably won’t happen any time soon.

But essentially white man (colonial men) came in and tried to make Africa the new Europe.  And maybe it’s okay to not be Europe.  Maybe we should have left things how they were, adapt to them, not try to make them like us.  But it’s too late for that now.  

I wish I could say I have ideas to fix the problems of Africa.  I with I had a diagnosis with a little white pill to stop all the hardships.  But I don’t’, and the more I learn and see, the more overwhelmed I am.  There are so many issues, so many interconnected problems.  So many things would have to change to even start moving things in a forward direction.  The more I know, the more hopeless it seems and I know that’s not a good attitude.  But I cannot even comprehend the depth of Africa’s problems – how could I ever form reasonable ideas to fix it?

I found I have a hard time describing scuba diving.  It’s like I just don’t have similar experience to relate it to – with land and landscape I can draw similarities that people can understand.  But diving you must do to understand.  I’ve loved the memories of other adventures that come back to you occasionally.  I love getting reminded of feelings I had in a past situation.  While diving at Mnemba I was dying to come out of the water and have one of Juza’s hot chocolates.

While sailing on the dhow it was reminded of how the wind feels blowing in my face as I’m in motion only due to the wind.  Hiking Kili brought back many memories of past hiking.  It had been awhile since I’d done a proper hiking trip.  I though a lot about when I worked at Camp Nawakwa and did the Lake Superior hiking trail with my girls. 

I am at peace sipping spice tea under and umbrella with my toes in the soft sand the and sound of ocean waves brushing the shore.

6/19

One of the reasons I cam to Africa was to see animals in the wild.  To not have a cage separating you from an almost domesticated zoo animal, but instead see an animal in its own habitat – on its own terms.  But in many cases, my coming to Africa has made me feel like I’m the animal on display.  Children scream, point, and wave at me.  They stair at me like I’m an alien (I guess I am).  Just now I was at the duty free in the Zanzibar airport and I was wandering around.  One of the employees asked me where I was from and I said the US and he asked where.  I said Hawaii and he was like, “Where is that?”  This lead to a thirty minute discussion over a world map explaining my islands to him and that yes, they’re a part of the USA, like Zanzibar is part of Tanzania.  (Both of them not very happy about it).  All the time he was staring at me, wide-eyed, like I was this exotic creature from another world.  

And so my African adventure is almost over.  I look out at the airplanes and see the three gate signs (although all exit to the same place).  I think I’m okay with this ending.  I spend too many days in Zanzibar, got a little bored, and being idle is not something I’m good at.  It’s been a good trip, I have learned a lot.  Africa has been this big, black mass on my map; I knew so little about it.  I still have only scratched the surface, but I have become much more aware.  And as they say, “once you have the soil of Africa on your boots, you always come back.”  This is our home after all, where it all started.

Nairobi 6pm

As I walked out of the Zanzibar airport to my plane, the African sun tried one more time to turn my skin black (or maybe just pink).  I love getting on planes outside, it’s just so much better than being shuttled through that movable gate.  

It was worth the extra money to fly to Nairobi just to fly over Kili.  It is such a beautiful mountain – just breaking its way up and over the clouds.  You could see the glaciers – who would ever thing there would be glaciers in equatorial Africa?

The man sitting next to me used to live in Zambia.  Now he comes back once a year.  I want to live in Africa 50 years ago.  I wish I had been there.  

I’m back in the Nairobi airport, waiting again.  It feels like I was just here, it almost feels like I never left.  Airports hold this sort of safety for me, it’s as if once I check in, get my passport stamped out of the country, then I’m free.  And safe.  It’s too late to turn back.  And it seems as if nothing can happen while I’m here – no tourist touts, robbers, evil taxi drivers.  Airports are a safe zone.  Almost home-like after all the time I’ve spent in them.

I here CNN in the background in an American accent and it sounds foreign.  It’s something about Iraq, I can’t quite hear it (maybe I’m trying not to).  Back to the real world, one ride at a time.

As I sit here at the guest house (my last night) re-living my experience on paper, a new group of muzungus has come in.  They’re from Wisconsin.  It’s odd being the one leaving and these new people coming in to have their own, unique experiences – I’m jealous of them in a way.  I do hope they like Bubble’s though! 

It’s odd talking to Americans.  It’s so different how I converse with them verses how I converse with people from other countries.  I miss my Europeans and I wish Matthew would walk in the door right now.  But his plane is taking off right now – he’s leaving Africa.  It’s so scary to think that I may never see him again. 

I emailed Matthew right after they left and he responded saying that we were some sort of soul mates and that I made his trip so much better than it would have otherwise been.  Who says that, honestly?  Soul-mates and he wouldn’t even kiss me?  Fucking British!

5/24

Finally leaving Kampala and a months worth of excitement and love that fells like I’m leaving a place I have lived for very long, I am headed to Nairobi.  They promised me that the roads in Kenya were better than those in Uganda, but they lied.  The road to Nairobi was terrible – the worst I may have ever been on in my life.  I’d say that driving in the fields next to the road would have been better, but the driver tried that for awhile and it proved to be pretty bad as well.  Right after Jinja there was an over-turned bus that looked just like the one I was in.  Not very re-assuring.  My favorite sign was: Do not overspeed!

Martin met me in Nairobi and set me up in a hotel that he said would be safe for me.  I though my undying love for Matthew had been apparent, but I guess Martin thought my visiting him may lead to a bit more.  I really did like the guy, and if it weren’t for the raw, broken heart that I had after leaving Matthew just a day before, things may have been different (but probably not).  He had only gotta a room for me with one bed. 

Nairobi with Martin was great though.  He served as my tour guide and big, black body guard and let me enjoy Nairobi, without him I would have just been worried and scared.  In fact, I would not have stopped there had he not been there.  He gave me a city tour both walking and by bus and after a crack down on city pollution they have enforced fines to those who litter or do any sort of damage on the streets, and increased the amount of garbage cans.  I thought the city was quite clean.  Traffic was terrible though (as it typically is in these cities) and we took the bus out of town to the animal orphanage, went on a safari walk and on our way back into town saw the worst traffic jam ever going into town.  Pirates of the Caribbean two came out that night and Martin agreed to go with me.  Turned out that I took him to the biggest muzungu gathering this side of the Atlantic.  The whole theater was filled with white men and women and children.  We rose at the beginning of the movie for the national anthem and pictures on the screen of the prime minister. 

5/28 – Kilimanjaro

This is really unreal.  I am on my way to the top of Kilimanjaro.  It’s like it’s a dream – people like me really don’t do this sort of stuff – this is just for National geographic and books.  It just feels weird.  Last night and this morning I have been so nervous – total butterflies in my stomach.  I really don’t know why though.  And I’m antsy.  I don’t’ want to sit still.  Will I make it?  Will I not make it?  As sad as it sounds, I really do miss Matthew – I wish he was here with me – it would be great to do this with him. 

But enough of the lonely, loveless girly stuff.  It ended up being me, a guide – Cornell, and a porter.  I think a cook as well, me and my entourage.  I really had hoped for a group to hike with – but I found one at the base.  An English girl, Shirlina, and two Aussies, Fiona and Josh.  All just coming off an overland trip from Cape Town to Nairobi.  Can’t lie that I’m a little jealous.  But they all seem great. 

So we started up the mountain – I popped a Cadbury éclair into my mouth and double knotted my shoes and headed forward, quickly, leaving my guide in the dust and joining Fi and Josh and their guide. 

The day was pretty easy hiking – I know it won’t last for long though.  We also me two guys from DC.  At the hut was a woman who didn’t make it – altitude sickness.  Kinda scared me a bit.  And the DC boys kept talking about Dizapan and how they’re already taking it. 

I think I may be a bit over my head – slightly unprepared, but very enthusiastic.  And I’m typically unprepared a bit for moth things and they tend to be the best things.  I saw my second glimpse of Kili on the drive to the base.  Just peeking out of the clouds you could see the top and it was covered in snow!  It looked damn cold!  So beautiful though, and a meadow of sunflowers below – yellow, black, green, blue and white – beautiful. 

And I’m behaving like a hyper little kid.  I don’t want to sit still, I want to run and jump and keep going.  Make it to Kili tonight!  On the way up we saw three black monkeys, one was a baby.  And later on, at the first camp, we saw four white colobus monkeys at the hut.  They had these amazing white, long tails – then a black monkey stared attacking one, it was crazy.

Once at the hut we went to see a crater and we could see down below into Kenya on one side and down into Tanzania on the other.  It was almost like looking down in the ocean – it just went on forever, as far as you could see.

I’m happy to be doing something.  Happy to be walking, step after step, living a dream.  I hope I make it to the top and if I don’t it will be good however far I make it.  I’m happy to be with people too, hear their stories and lies.  Today was just walking through the rainforest and tomorrow we move into moorland, then alpine, then ice cap!  Crazy!  I truly can’t believe I’m here.  Damn. 

Poli, Poli. 

Spanish moss balls. 

Cards by candlelight. 

Trying to get Manual to play bullshit, but not understanding how to lie.

6/2 – Some thoughts on Africa

It makes me mad that we removed the pygmies from Bwindi for gorilla conservation.  What gives us the right to kick people out of their homes?  We could never make the people of NYC move out to save some animal.  And how terrible is what we’re doing to them?  “Sit here during these hours and sing and dance for the tourists and sell some hand-carved gorillas.”  Talk about taking their dignity away.  These used to be forest people, forest hunters.  Nomadic and able to survive off the forest.  They were strong and deadly to deal with, and now we have reduced them to singing and dancing puppets, forbidding them to go into their own forests to kill meat.  At what point have we taken this too far?  And honesty, what harm were they doing?  So yeah, they probably killed a gorilla every once-in-awhile, but it was for food. 

Africa loves country music.  It’s odd.  I’ve heard more Dolly Parton in the last five weeks that I have ever in my whole life.  In Nairobi we were in a chain burger join and “Islands in the Stream” was just blaring.  Odd is the only way I can describe it.

I don’t think I will truly understand this experience until it is long over.  It has been so much to take in.  In some ways it is so much more difficult to travel here than in South America – except that they speak English.

But Africa seems to lack something SA had.  Fi says that life is cheap in Africa.  (I agree with this).  Also, in Africa, no one does anything about their problems.  They just take things how they come.  SA was the total opposite.  They fought for everything – even when not getting anything in return they still protested and tried.  In Africa, no one fights back, it’s disheartening.  I think its true hand-outs have ruined the country.  (I think whites ruined the country).  But hand-outs become expected.  It takes hard work and earning things to truly appreciate life – and maybe that lack of appreciation makes life so cheap here.

6/3 – Safari Day 1

After having a day to think about Kili, I am mad at myself.  I was so close to the top.  Now that I spent a day in the sunshine and can feel my toes again, it seems so sill that I stopped.  And I know I could have done it.  I’m not like that – I don’t stop things before they’re finished.  What’s happened to me? 

Yesterday I had a great chat with Cynthia – the Peace Corps girl I met last week.  Another PC girl quit last week and was going home.  Last night I was going to go to the Miss Kili pageant, but they took me far out of town and I freaked out and made them take me back.  I don’t regret turning back.  But I wonder what would have/could have happened.  It’s not like me to freak out for no reason, I just lost confidence, and I have pretty good intuition.  It was scary.

Nighttime – today we went to Lake Marangu and with me was a Dutch couple (the Dutch apparently have taken over Africa).  They seem nice.  It turns out I got majorly ripped off on the trip though.  They got it for 120 a person, I paid 150.  Plus, I was told there would be drinks (there weren’t) and that I could have vegetarian food (there wasn’t), and they tried to make us sleep in tents tonight (but after some complaining we got rooms).  Plus there’s a rumor that two other people are coming (I was promised there would only be three). 

But Lake Marangu was beautiful.  An elephant tried to charge us, there were giraffes, water buffalo, zebras, elephants, mongoose, baboons, vervet monkeys, hippos, impala, wildebeest, etc.  The guide/driver is a bit creepy, and our cook – Moody – doesn’t talk much.

6/4 – Safari Day 2

I’m sad that I have no one to share this with.  I don’t know what it is about this trip to Africa, but it has made me feel co-dependent.  My only guess is Matthew.  I’ve never before met someone that I think I could continue to life my life the way I want to live it – with someone else.  Oh my god – it’s like that biological clock thing is for real.  Bastards!

Today has been amazing though.  As we descended into the Serengeti from Ngorongoro it was like everything I had ever imagined.  The Circle of Life song was playing in the back of my head and the African plains spread out in front of us as far as the eyes could see.  Green and brown grasses, blue skies, white African clouds.  It’s like all the clouds I loved so much as a child were preparing me for these spectacular clouds.

We saw gazelle, impala, and zebras by the hundred.  I love the way the zebras bunch together to avoid prey.  And the wildebeest were everywhere.  We literally saw hundreds of thousands.  There were animals everywhere – every place you could put your eyes, there were animals.  We saw four lions – one was stalking a wildebeest and two (my favorites) were lounging on rocks overlooking their Serengeti home.  It was like they were placed there just for us to look at. 

Tonight I saw a Serengeti sunset – again it was just like I imagined – breathtakingly beautiful.  The sun has now set on our campsite in the middle of the Serengeti (we are literally in the middle of it).  There is no running water, and only three groups of people here.

Lets add this to my Africa list of near-death experiences.  We are open to the animals – What’s hungry for Brandi?  There’s lightning off in the distance and the crickets have started their music and I can hear faint Swahili being spoken on the other side of the campsite.  This is the Serengeti. 

I’ve been a bit subdued and mellow since I started the safari.  I’m not sure if it’s that the adrenaline in me has run out in the last five weeks.  I am suddenly looking very forward to going to Wisconsin to see my parents.  To sit in front of their fireplace on the couch and drink tea.  Nothing can hurt me there.  No hyenas or scary drivers or meningococcal.  There’s no grasshoppers to eat (well I suppose if you really wanted to) to boda bodas to ride on.  No mountains to climb or malaria.  Just my mom and her brownies.  I keep thinking about how I don’t think I’ll be able to digest this experience until long after I’ve gone home.  Maybe it will all make sense one day when I’m pipetting in the lab.  Maybe it will come to me in a dream.  What this (these) experiences have done to change me.  How they’ve changed me.  What Africa has given and taken from me.

I don’t think Africa cares though.  It does not concern itself with my mental status – it has bigger problems.  Maybe that is the problem – Africa does not care.  It is not a babysitter or a mother.  It is heartless, yet it is the heart of the world.  It wants nothing and needs nothing, but will take everything from you.  It is everything, and it knows this – but is beyond needing to answer to anyone.  Africa is nothing more and nothing less than Africa.  Maybe someday I’ll understand, but I probably won’t.

6/5 – Day 3

So there I was…in the middle of the Serengeti in a tent – in the dark – alone.  They locked us in our tents at nightfall and told us not to get out of the tent till sunrise.  The guide and cook were sleeping in a tent that was in a cage behind the kitchen-like area.  There were five tents total – three were ours.

It must have been at about three am and a large four-legged bump ran into me.  Something was scratching itself on the side of my tent!  Was I dreaming?  I would have pinched myself, but I didn’t want to move.  I didn’t want whatever it was to know there was food inside (me).  Let’s just add this to my list of near death experiences in Africa. 

But I did live till morning – woke up to an amazing sunrise and we set of on another game drive through the Serengeti.  It started off kinda slow and I was wondering where all the animals had gone.  But luckily that didn’t last too long and we came upon a cheetah devouring a gazelle!  So cool!  So National Geographic!  (For real too because there was a guy from NG filming it in the truck right next to us!  It’s amazing that they can edit out 16 other land rovers from their film.  That’s what the TV programs don’t show.

Once the cheetah had eaten its fill, he left and three hyenas moved in to clean up after our kitty cat.  And awhile later, when they were done, the vultures and buzzards moved in.  Nothing goes to waste.

After seeing the cheetah there were only two more animals on my list – a leopard and a rhino.  Not twenty minutes later we came to another traffic jam of land rovers and up in a tree was this beautiful leopard just staring out over his home.  As I was snapping dozens of pictures, he stood up, jumped down one branch, then onto the ground, then straight for me.  By this time all nine land rovers had started their engines, screamed “get down” and started pulling away.  I was still hanging out of the Land rover snapping pictures.

He just walked right in front of our vehicle, sat down on his back legs and started drinking water from a tire mark in the mud.  Just like a cat drinking from his dish.  Then Manual told me that the leopards can jump, in one leap, into the land rovers through the top (one more near death experience). 

And so I was content for the day (and it was only 11am) and we spent the rest of the day driving along the plains and seeing hundreds of wildebeests, zebras, giraffes, and warthogs.  Not bad. 

Around four we were back in Ngorangora at Simba campsite.  We pulled in to see about 10 tents and 9 zebras (2 babies)!  They were just munching grass in between the tents as if they were in the Serengeti or something.  Then Amarinda yells, “There’s an elephant!”  This is going to be another night without sleep….

I snapped a ton of pictures, getting really close to the zebras.  It was so surreal.  After taking hundreds of pictures out of the land rover trying to get a good one, here I was with them inches in front of me.  After I had all the zebra pics one can deal with, I went and had a shower (first in three days of hot, dusty, open vehicle travel) and there was HOT water.  (Really, it’s the little things you have to appreciate in Africa). 

We are on the Ngorongoro crater rim and 3700 meters (almost the top of Kili) and its already getting cold here.  But the view is amazing and the zebras make it even better.  So much unexpected.

Later on:

The beginnings of a new friendship all due to this guy walking by carrying, “Guns, germs, and steel.”  Then there was an elephant – in the camp ground!  Pretty soon Brian and I were chatting about Kampala – we’d both just spent a month there.  We talked about Bubble’s, the Thai restaurant, Mulago, death in Africa, and Uganda in general.  Then I met his friend, Josh.  And now we’re going to Zanzibar together.  And maybe Brundi and Rawanda are back on?

6/6 Day 4

All I can say is wow.  After seeing the zebras, elephant, and water buffalo in the campsite, my night was filled with visions of wild animals taking over the campsite.  I did hear zebras eating outside my tent.  A chomping, cutting sort of noise.

We woke up before dawn, ate breakfast, and descended into the crater.  We were the first to find a cheetah eating a gazelle (and my guide was the talk of the crater all day).  It was so nice to be the first (and only) ones there.  We had the view all to ourselves instead of fighting with a land rover traffic jam.

Later on we saw two male lions drinking and when they were finished they walked RIGHT past our land rover.  Like almost touching it (as Manual was yelling at us to get back in the land rover again).  One leap and I coulda been dinner, camera and all (but I’d have gotten the shot!)

So all that was left of the big five was a rhino.  And we looked and we looked and we searched.  And we came upon two more cheetahs just lounging around.  TWO!  I love the big cats for some reason.  A little further on we saw it.  It was off quite a ways, but with the binoculars it was clear it was a black rhino.  Big 5 – accomplished!

After that I was content and ready to head home.  Some hippos and elephants came to say goodbye as we ascended out of the crater.

Swahili

Haraka haraka haina baraka – hurry, hurry has no blessing

Mwehye nguva mpishe – give way to the strong ones

Asiyekuwupo na lake halipo – our of sight, out of mind

Lugandan

Mpolo mpolo atuuka wala – slow, but sure

Kamu kamu gwe mugando – one by one makes a bando

Owamonji ta kera – I know what I’m doing, so I came late

April 27^th, 2007 – London

I had all sorts of other philosophical and enlightening things to write, but I lost them all in the realizing moment that my watch was stolen.  I noticed it as I was sitting in the London underground waiting for the subway train to come and take me to a different terminal.  I looked down to check the time (an impatient habit of mine) and it was gone!  I even pulled up my sleeve.  I felt so naked, my wrist felt cold – and even worse, I didn’t know what time it was!  I could have missed my plane (unlikely because the last watch-look was hour 2 of my 9 hour London layover, but who knows if there had been a time lapse or I could have gone into a coma of unknown length!)  Either way, I’m sad without my watch and this proves once again that you can be robbed anywhere and everywhere.  Okay, and I could have lost it by the strap breaking of something too – but I doubt it. 

April 28^th, 2007 – Nairobi

Just got into Nairobi.  One more flight to go.  For 16,000 miles, this hasn’t been “that” bad.  HNL to LAX was good – the seat next to me was open.  LAX-London I was in the middle, but I think I annoyed the people around me more than they alloyed me.  We arrived in London at 2am Hawaii time, so I read the whole flight and finished an entire book! 

I’m not a huge fan of London airport – but time passed quickly.  London-Nairobi was great – I love being reminded how much American Airlines sucks by fabulous non-USA airlines.  Traveling doesn’t suck entirely if you get food and water, big seats, and nice flight attendants.

So now I’m in the Nairobi airport – I saw Mt. Kilimanjaro as we were descending.  My first impression of Africa is a smelly airport that allows smoking.  Think no air condition, sweaty men, and smoke. 

On another note – I’m still insanely in love with Robert.  He flew in on Saturday and surprised me with tickets to the Kokua Fest – Jack Johnson and Eddie Vedder (and others) at the park, next to the ocean on a beautiful Hawaiian evening.  The concert was good – not the best I’ve ever been to, but very chill and relaxed.  It was an ‘eco’ concert run almost entirely on biofuel.  What couldn’t be run on biofuel they planted trees to make up for their carbon footprint.  The whole thing was very organic, hippy, and environmentalistic. 

The concert really relaxed me – made me happy and I spent the rest of the week with Robert.  I really wish he was coming with me.  I miss traveling with him.  He has a good shoulder to sleep on.  So far all the white people I’ve met are older, rich-looking white couples seeming to be on a second honeymoon.

Oh yeah, and I love British accents.  In fact, I find most British men very attractive – tall, slightly pale, skinny, dark hair – oh and the accent!  There was this HOT British guy sitting near me from LA-London.  He kept looking at me too.  Should've taken him back to join the mile high club!

I’m pretty much done with Kris.  I don’t know if I can ever even be friends with him.  He is such higher maintenance that me, and so egotistical and demanding.  I called him the night before I left (only after waiting for him to call all day) and then he freaked out that he didn’t think I was going to call him and that he really wanted to see me before I left (well maybe if he had called the night before!)  Then he went on to say that he can’t believe that I don’t have the “decency” to tell him I lost interest.  I have been REALLY busy the last few weeks – and he knew from the beginning how busy I was, how I felt, etc.  He just couldn’t handle not being together 24/7 (although he claims he could).  He’s really hurtful – the things he says cut deep – and although it was clear that things maybe weren’t working out, it was not all my fault and he had no right to make me feel bad to smooth over his pride.  He plays this all-wonderful, sweet guy, but he really is all in it for himself.  And I’m not implying that I’m some humble angel – but he knows how I am.  I told him from the first day we hung out how busy I am, how right now I am all consumed with grad school.  But enough about him – he is out of my mind for the rest of this trip.

I know this is going to sound crazy – but what everyone says about Africa is true – I can already feel it.  It’s comfortable – like going home.  Wow – I can’t believe I’m here.

It never ceases to amaze me what a small world it really is.  In 25 hours by air I have come to the other side of the world.  Fourteen time zones, 2 sunrises, 3 continents, and 16,000 miles.  I am in Africa.  Across the pacific, the Atlantic, and today I got my first glimpse of the Indian ocean.  This is a place of dreams, of photographs; far-away places that are like fairy tails.  But it will no longer be a fairy tail for me.  Now it’s real.

April 28^th – Kampala

Finally, I’m here.  The Entebbe airport is tiny!  Not at all as big as “The King of Scotland” made it look!  And it was bloody hot when I got off the plane.  I had emailed the place where we are staying a few days ago to see if someone would pick me up and I got no response.  I didn’t even know if they’d have a room for me.  I had hoped to call when I got to the airport, but there was no payphone, so I decided to take a taxi (and pray that the taxi driver didn’t kidnap me).  Whoa, is it still called kidnapping when you’re not a kid?

I really do have quite the insane fear of taxis.  They just have so much power, and when I’m traveling alone (like always) they just could do so much bad to me.  Maybe I’m overly paranoid, but it freaks me out.

This taxi driver was a good guy, though, and got me to the guesthouse (which was over an hour away!)  I walked in and the guy at the desk says, “You must be Brandi!” – yep – “Oh, I’m so sorry, our internet was down till just a few hours ago and I didn’t get your email message till just now!”  Luckily William had a room for me, and I showered 3 continents off my body, put out my mosquito net and drifted off to sleep.

April 29^th

What a day – a day I will never be able to reproduce on paper.  I lay in bed till almost 9am, which added up to almost 15 hours of sleep (wow) and then wandered into the dinning room to see if breakfast was till available.  No one was in the dinning room, so I helped myself to some bread and coffee.

Almost 15 minutes later a white guy came in, got some food and sat down next to me.  Richard turned out to be a British guy teaching/doing research at a Norwegian University.  He’s an ecologist, which lead to much discussion.  He takes sediment cores from lakes to determine how old they are and about their make-up over time.  (How cool!)  And we talked about ecology and conservation, my research, and biology in general.  Later on, a friend of his, Thelma, came out and we were discussing what to do for the day – she suggested that we hire a driver to take us to the source of the Nile and some waterfall.

Hey, why not?  So we did.  By 10:00 the two of us were in a cab with Oscar, who didn’t want to talk (or hear us talk) so we got to listen to the Fuji’s as high as the radio volume would go while he was driving at speeds exceeding 120km.  There was also much dodging of motorbikes (with up to four people one them) and pedestrians with water containers on their heads.

Uganda is beautifully green against a deep, red, clay background.  Really quite stunning.  Richard wanted to stop at this forest (which was being fought over because they wanted to chop it down for paper, but the locals were pulling this environmentalist attitude saying they wanted to keep their forest (really they just didn’t want the Indians to get anything of theirs).  So we stopped and started walking into this trail-like cut in the thick forest.  It seemed a bit sketchy.  But he wanted to see it, and there were butterflies and pretty bugs everywhere.  We were looking for monkeys and I started to wonder if we could really be there – what if there were drug dealers hiding out back there, protecting their plants?  What if we were trespassing?  But Richard wanted to keep going.  So we did.  I had my eyes up to the sky looking for monkey and I heard something move, I strained to look for any birds and then this man walked right up to us from the other direction.  This scared the shit out of me, but it turned out (or so he told us) that he was there to keep the monkeys away from the Kava plants.  Then he told us that it was mid-day and the monkeys are all sleeping, so we won’t see any. 

We continued on our way to the Source of the Nile and saw Lake Victoria and I managed to pass out at Lake Victoria – dunno if it was because of the malarone, the lack of sleep, food, or water.  Or the intense heat.  Or maybe all of the above. 

April 30^th – 1^st day of course

Yet again, I feel very out of place – less smart than all these other people, so much below them.  Why do I throw myself into these places I probably don’t belong?  Why or how do I even get myself in? 

The people are amazing.  Although we have only known each other for a few hours, I feel this bond.  I laughed more today than I have laughed in a long time.  My cheeks hurt, I like it.  And can we say ‘hot British doctor’?  As well as stunningly handsome Sudan man – reminds me a lot like jay – only much more professional looking. 

This morning I came out to breakfast and sort of watched all the people I figured were course people as I sat back and had breakfast with Richard.  Then they were leaving, so I went and introduced myself to an important looking person – Daria – who rushed me into the van.  Then I got bombarded with names, where everyone was from, whose group I was in.  I met Sabina and Martin who I had emailed with – I was in a group with them.  We went to the lab and the Makerere University Biochemistry department and it looked like something out of Harry Potter – dark wood benches, no air conditioning.  Not much of anything around. 

The course started right away with introductions (mine was lame and the British doctor is brilliant!)  Then we had a general malaria lecture from Dr. Chen, an epi lecture by Karin, lunch at the hospital (rice and beans) and then we drove into town for money exchange and to get anything that was needed.  Once we got back to the guesthouse I saw the boys getting a beer, so I went to William and asked for a Nile Special – he laughed at me and said “nooo – Nile Special is a mans beer – you can’t handle it – you should drink the other beer.”  Haha, yeah right mister.  Gimme the damn Nile Special – I can take it.  (This may have been mistake number one.)  We had dinner down the road at an Indian restaurant which was next to a men’s sauna – and gave occasional glimpses of fat men in red towels emerging from the steam – very appetizing.

May 1^st

This is my first time to Africa – but I almost forget I’m in Africa (except when driving in taxis).  I have laughed more in the last two days than I have in the last year.  These people I have just met – from all around the world – it feels like I’ve known them forever.  I do feel out of place at times – I don’t have the background they have – but I have an extensive background in general disease.  I think I’m the first to forget this though. 

I am playing the anti-American American (well not ‘playing’ – I am).  I make comments on my own people.  Matthew told me that ‘Americans aren’t very popular right now’ – wow, thanks for the update – really, I had no idea.  I want to be here to change your mind – how do I accomplish this?

It is very cool that these names I have been receiving emails form now have faces – they now have backgrounds, research, homes and lifestyles.  We share common joys and goals.  And we are here.  I am so lucky to be involved with this – I hope I don’t disappoint them.

As for today – the morning/afternoon was quite mellow.  We did DNA extractions.  Some have never used a pipette before.  But in their defense, most are clinicians – they would know if I had malaria, or cholera, or HIV.  They could treat me.  I can only use a pipette.

Matthew’s research amazes me – he does human studies!  Purposely infecting people with malaria.  Damn me for living in a country that doesn’t allow that.  Anywayz.  We had journal club, which I did very poorly at – when did I become so accepting of “good enough”?  when did I become so slack?

It has been two days and there have been so many mixed feelings – one second I am ecstatic to be involved with these people – I live for this.  The next second I am angry at myself – mad that I wanted to come here.  Upset that I have chosen this as my path.  Maybe this is common though.  The roads we chose (no matter which ones) ore difficult.  We will meet conflict.

This evening we went to dinner – had some beers before, had some beers after – laughed a lot.  I got to talked to Matthew a lot – he has been re-named McDreamy.  Haha.  This time is going to go too fast.

5/2

Late morning.  We had lectures on drug resistance and traditional medical care of malaria.  We walked back to the guesthouse through the market and there was the woman selling fruit there who was so beautiful.  She was probably older than me, and she just glowed and smiled at us.  Everyone stocked up on passionfruit, jackfruit, mangoes, etc.  For dinner we all went to Crocodiles Restaurant.  There were seven of us – from seven different countries, three continents.  Pretty amazing.  I got to chat with Mohammad for awhile – really nice guy.  He commented that, “Wow – women really can do everything here” this morning.  I decided not to comment.  He’s from Sudan and this is his second trip out of Sudan, the other being to India with a school trip.  He said I would be safe walking in Khartoum.  I dunno if I would be.  I also talked a lot with Martin about Kenya.  And I told Jenny (from Cameroon) how I used to be obsessed with Cameroon as a child because I was from Cameron.  It was a really nice night.  Then Matt, Isabel, Anna, and I went to Bubble’s O Leary.  One of the many Irish pubs that makes you forget what country you’re in – or even what planet you’re on.  I drank a bit too much.  At one point we had six shots in front of us and Isabel went to pay for them and the bartender gave her back large bills in change and she freaked out that it wasn’t the right change – so he tried to explain, then said he was sorry, took the money, brought back the same amount in smaller bills and she smiled and said thank you – next time you better not try to cheat me!  It was great.

5/4

I’ve been having this cold-thing happening which has left me in a bit of misery – and forcing me to be anti-social.  I’m still completely amazed by this group of people.  I feel so much like I don’t fit in – I’m not at their level.  And I’m really not – at least when specifically talking about malaria.  I am happy for my forced knowledge of all infectious diseases (as torturous as the UH TropMed program is.)  In a very “Bruce” mindset, I can see how important it is to know at least a little about everything, because everything is linked together.  Similar things are happening in different systems.  In the end it is all the same – at least to some point.  For example, our lecturer from yesterday and today discussed gene switching in malaria similar to trypanosomes.  How cool is that? 

I very much like everyone – I hope they don’t hate me.  Martin and McDreamy are probably my favorite.  As well as Francesca.  Martin is so smart – I get to a point where I am totally lost and he spits out something brilliant that clears up all my questions and makes it seem simple.  And he’s such a sweet guy on top of everything.

5/6

We left Saturday morning for a safari to Murchison Falls and it turned out to be an amazing trip.  We left before dawn and the drive up there was crazy – mostly dirt roads, people walking beside them carrying water.  We saw people getting water from a tire-mark-puddle in the road!  We passed through little villages and communities.  Overall it was a bumpy, hot, long ride.  A few years before some tourists were killed in the north and because of this there was some anxiety about going up there.  We also brought along another American girl – Sarah – who was lots of fun to talk to (although she talked nonstop).  She was on a rotary grant to be studying women’s health at Makerere. 

Eventually we got to the Paraa Lodge and it was like a whole other world.  It was like we were zipped back into colonial Africa where the white men in kaki were waited on, hand and foot, by the locals.  As we got off the bus they gave us hot, wet hand towels to wipe our hands on and glasses of ice cold lemon aid.  Then we were brought to a balcony overlooking the Nile River and we served a three course lunch.  It was unbelievable.  Later we went on my first game drive – I saw my first lions (three of them), and giraffes, and as we left the sky was turning this color that only occurs in Africa at dusk and there were these white birds by the hundred flying across the plains.  It was truly amazing.

For dinner we had another amazing three course meal and it was Chen’s birthday.  They had managed to bring a small cake from Kampala (over eight hours of bumpy roads) and it still survived.  After dinner I went to get some coffee and Anna and Diane cornered me and asked if I liked Matthew “uh, uh, ummmm” – Anna said she thought he was single.  Ahhh, McDreamy.  We all moved downstairs to some pool tables and persisted to drink late into the night.  I ended up with Matt out by the pool till like 3am, when the guard came and told us that we needed to go to bed so the elephants don’t get us.  (As unbelievable as that sounds, there were tracks in the mud the next morning!) 

I woke up early to see the entire sky a pinkish purple and the Nile reflected the deep mauve and all else was black.  It was like a painting.  Later on we went for a boat ride up the falls and there were hundreds of hippos – also water buffalo and crocs.  The feeling one gets from seeing these creatures in the wild is indescribable.  The drive home was longer than there, we were all tired.  I got to sit next to Matt though, we talked, a lot.  It was really nice. 

5/7

IAVI, bad restaurant, Yenen showed up, pool w/ Jenny, Kenya airlines crash and Anna Couet

5/8

Children’s hospital

5/9

Rouge - Salsa, Haandi

5/10

HIV clinic IDI, Thai dinner, sold for a goat, bubbles with Ulf, Yenen, Matt

5/11

Ulf left, Phase 2- reggae with Simon

5/12

White water rafting, coco bananas, sunburn

5/13

African village, Ndere Troupe

5/14

Eating grasshoppers, Haandii, Lebonise cowboys and sheesha

5/15

Problems with group travel, long day, walking and walking, ending up at Steak-out, matt knows John Patz

5/16

Kasangati, African Village, going to bus station with Matt (almost dying), Turkish restaurant and more sheesha, pool

5/17

Computer viruses, lab presentations, party at guesthouse, professional dancers, whiskey, speeches, DDT

5/18

Goodbye talks, boda-boda ride, Emin Pashisa, Phase 2 with Simon, Mo, Anna, Matthew

5/19

Goodbye to Mo, left at 5:15am, bus didn’t leave till 8, Travel to Bwindi, bus broke down, the stars.  Sarah at the mechanics.  Buhoma community rest camp, bed bugs

5/20

Nature walk, village walk, Flea boy and his hospitals, banana wine and wangari

5/21

Gorillas

5/22

4am bus departure, home at 5pm, Fred, dinner at Turkish restaurant with Simon - meningococcal

This may be the most unexcited I am to take a trip.  I can't explain it.  I can't explain my lack of excitement, or the will to do anything, for that matter.  I want to lay in bed, I want to walk aimlessly through malls and not buy anything - or even look at anything.  i just want to walk.

my mind depresion has been good for my diet - ever since the robert thing eating has been less.  i was at the doctor the other day and i am at my post-africa weight.  i weight the same now as i did after two months of eating almost nothing, shitting out everything i did eat, and three day of severe food poisioning where i thought i puked up my intestines with everything else.  i'm that skinny right now.  (which still isn't like anorexic skinny, but it's too skinny for me).  although it makes me happy to fit into size 8 and even some size 6 jeans.  just makes me feel good, i guess.

but the anxiety from the evil exams has given me spend-a-holics disease. or maybe in trying to find something to make me happy, i just keep shopping.  and shopping makes me feel momenterily better (especially when i'm taking home size 6 jeans that fit).  my gap credit card (the most evil thing i ever got) had a 400 dollar bill last month.  FOUR HUNDRED DOLLARS!  That's more than I typically spend in a month on all of my expenses.  i can't even think of what the hell i bought!  and my 600 dollar car insurance was due, 200 bucks to re-register my car, 200 dollar for student fees.  plus i had to up-front my bangkok ticket and my conference fee (1400 dollars there).  holy shit, i can't afford to live!  i need a suger daddy like you have no idea.  

and the mold, the mold is taking over everything.  my suitcases and backpacks are covered in it.  my clothes are either growing with the green shit or smell like must and mold.  even my favorite necklace (my sharks tooth and black pearl) was covered.  i freaked out last night, drove to wal mart at 2am and bought lysol and lysoled my whole room till i had a headache and couldn't breath without coughing.  everything else about this place is perfect - but the mold may be the worst thing ever.  

the alternative music station has this afternoon guy who has enlightened me to who i am and reminds me where i came from.  he must be the same age as me, and possibly grew up in the same sort of sheltered, small town world.  how do i know this?  i just can from the music he plays.  his music reminds me of my former life as a high schooler (and before).  he was telling us the traffic report the other night with the Doug theme song in the background.  it was like my entire adolecense was sumed up in one 60 second theme song.  doug, and skeeter, and patty mayonaise lived my life.  side-by-side we were, going through jr. high.  and the dj does the weather with sneeker pimps 6 underground song in the background.  and he plays reel big fish and mighty mighty bosstones.  i bet he used to watch daria. 

in random other news - some guy threw a baby off a bridge into the highway last week.  and although this is upsetting, it sorta hit me in a way i wouldn't have expected.  i drive under the overpass every day, and the day after it happened i actually started crying when i drove under the bridge.  people have brought balloon and flowers and leis and covered the whole overpass with them.  who the hell throws a kid off a bridge!?!?!  we later found out that it was the neighbor (who sometimes BABYSAT the kid), who was on meth, who just decided he should throw the kid off the bridge into the highway.  and some poor bastard, driving home from work hit a flying child in his car.  can you imagine the therapy that poor person is going to need?  and where was the mother?  (no one knows, she's got two other kids who were taken away from her), the father?  well, he's in jail for five years.  the baby was suppose to be being watched by the boyfriend, but we still don't know where he was.  

the same day some guy murdered his girlfriend with the butt of his shotgun.  

what kind of a world is this?

matthew's coming back when i get back from thailand.  he told me this time.  but i wonder if there is really a difference between not telling me or just coming whenever anyways.  

oh yeah, and i have a tumor.  they're cutting it out when i get back. 

"In my part of Africa, death is never far away.....The urgent, tugging winds themselves seem to whisper the message memento mori, you too shall die.  in Africa, you do not view death from the auditorium of life, as a spectator, but from the edge of the stage, waiting only for your cue.  You feel perishable, temporary, transient.  You feel mortal.  

Maybe this is why you live more vividly in Africa.  The drama of life there is amplified by its constant proximity to death.  That's what infuses it with tension.  It is the essence of its tragedy too.  Please love harder there.  Love is the way that life forgets that it is terminal.  Love is life's alibi in the face of death. "

I'm reading of Africa right now.  Of how live is different in Africa.  The author claims that everyone in Africa does things 'more' - they love stronger and more, they live each day more, they really do live as if it is their last day.  But this is due to the chance of it being their last day.  Africa is so wild and life is not something you're expected to have.  Life is not a right.  Being born alive is lucky, living is lucky, everything you do is lucky - you could be dead.  From disease, from crazy governmental issues, from so much that we do not have to worry about here.  Africa is a true adventure - there is a lot to be lost there.  From my cozy house in Honolulu, less than a mile from the nearest Starbucks, two miles from the nearest emergency room, things are safer.  I'm unlikely to die of malaria here, or of being raped and shot from a child soldier who's parents died of AIDS and who's goverment does not even know he exists.  If I have a health issue, or a crazy accident, if I fall off a waterfall - I am more likely to survive it here.  In Africa, I might be lucky enough to get to a hospital or even be treated - but that would probably be because I am white and have money.  I love the way I feel when I'm in Africa.  That extra risk, that little boost of excitment.  You live all you have in your life, because you could really lose it at any second.  I love the excitement.  Africa makes herself your addiction.  She wants you to want her - but you will never have her.  She causes you pain, shows you immense beauty, is perfect and evil at the same time.  She is a temptress.

But that's what what I wanted to write about here.  

I know I love the ocean and diving.  And maybe the more recent NEED and absolute desire to be in the ocean, and to be on a boat again may be becasue it's been awhile since I've been there.  I can't have it like I used to.  But yet, I have the option to go out diving almost every day here, and I don't.  It's like how you know that you love and need chocolate, but you don't let yourself have it...and it just makes you want it more.  Or the man you love, who you know isn't good for you, but yet he pursues you, and you resist - only to desire him even more.  Diving is also an adventure.  Mike Emmanual said "Cheated death, yet again," after every dive I did with him.  It makes you think - we're really not suppose to be able to survive underwater.  There are many risks - equiptment problems, death by angry animals, death by a crazy buddy who panicks, being taken by the ocean.  Whenever I start to forget that risk I am taking, the ocean reminds me somehow - sometimes she gives me a little nudge, other times she slaps me in the face with the danger I seek.  She is in charge, I am not.  

But what I'm really here to talk about is men.  The men I love.  When I read of Africa, I love Matthew.  When I think of Africa, or far away places, I want to be there with him.  I want to be at the ends of the world with him.  I want him to hold my hand when I'm scared of evil, disease, and poverty.  I want to help change the world with him.  I want us to watch the sunrise over the Serengeti as a leopard leaps out of a tree.  I want to raft down waterfalls with him and to save the world with him.  I want to live my crazy life with him.  I want us to live happily ever after and do what normal people do, but not in a normal way. 

But when I think about addiction, I love Robert.  I love being underwater.  It is my escape, my freedom, my other world,  It renews me, it changes me, it saves my life.  I need it.  I crave it.  I want to feel the water over every inch of my body the same way that I crave for Robert.  I want him near me.  I want him to love me and need me.  I need him.  I want to be smothered by him and the ocean.  It is unhealthy, it is scary.  I think about it, I dream about it, I crave it.  It is my every other thought.  I can't imagine my life without him in it.  It is this gnawing at my soul.  I cannot live without the ability to be underwater.  I cannot live without the ability to be near Robert.  I want it, when I want it.  I want to be able to have it.  And it kills me when I cannot.