Epilogue

So getting home has been challenging to say the least.

Flying out of Dar gave me mixed emotions. It was a dreary day. We went to a Japanese restaurant with the office (only the ex-pats since it was Eid, the end of Ramadan, which is a holiday in Tanzania). I got some really fabulous gifts: a woodcarving that says "Karibu" (welcome) from Mwenge market, close to where I first lived in Dar; a festively colorful wrap, after borrowing one from my roommate all summer; and a Sun King Pro, the solar lantern that I tested and worked into our business plan this summer.

As we lifted off at dusk, it took me some time to get oriented to the city from the air. First I identified the major arterial streets. From there, I spotted the lush marsh/field right next to my house and the general location of the office. We kept moving northeast, allowing me to trace my way up the peninsula. But then, the clouds suddenly obstructed my view. I wanted just another glimpse. The Hash was happening as I flew overhead. I wanted to put myself in their shoes with a visual reference. But it was gone. My desperation and anxiety surprised me. Being preoccupied with holding onto the images of Tanzania seemed silly. Moments later a feeling of awe and amazement displaced this feeling of confusion when we broke free of the clouds. The tops of the clouds were majestic and powerful with the setting sun. I thought about how my parents have seen these sights so frequently from the cockpit. And also how often I've had the luxury of flying. And how so many people have never witnessed this beauty, not just those we were serving in rural low-income areas, but even my colleagues and acquaintances in Dar.

I was in a trance, so deep that I didn't realize that the air vent over my row (I had it to myself) was open in a way that made a deafening sound. The woman in the row behind me got up to shut it, and the absolute quiet shocked me.

Fast forward to Dubai. I didn't get on the standby flight, and my hopes were dwindling that I'd be able to make it home in the next week. Luckily my mom's friend (former Northwest, current Emirates pilot) lives there and generously offered me lodging. His place is on the 24th floor of a building just south of The Palm Jumeira. This is one of the most iconic images of Dubai: a completely fabricated community in the Persian Gulf from the ground to the tip of the Atlantis turrets. Such a contrast to Dar.

The accommodations were lovely. Chris jetted off to Melbourne in the morning, so I had the place to myself. The next morning I dreaded standby roulette, exhausted by the uncertainty and not feeling the thrills of getting a sweet deal. I quit. I bought a ticket from Dubai that would leave the next afternoon, laying over in Zurich for the night and then connecting in New York. Sigh. Relief. I'm coming home for real.

I don't really know how I spent my day. Other than wandering to the beach and changing some money, I didn't do much. I wanted to put this feeling of carefree lounging in a bottle, to be remembered during the upcoming stressful school year.

Knowing that I was departing on my birthday, I went to the beach in the morning, taking the bare necessities so that I could comfortably take a dip in the gulf. The water is almost uncomfortable warm, but it was nice to float around for a bit. The heat and the sun make the beach uncomfortable after an hour's time, so I packed up my stuff to head back to pack up and get out of town. I spotted a man and a couple camels. Birthday camel ride?? Yes please. I wondered how much it would cost. "50 AED" he told me (about $20). It was exactly the amount that I had carried with me. Seemed like the right thing to do. I don't think that he believed that it was my birthday, but I negotiated a bit of a longer trip so that he could drop me at the path back to the apartment. Success.

Flight to Zurich was fine. Night in Zurich was fine. Now comes the part where everything unravels.

I get seriously questioned at the airport about where I've been. I understand. My travels are complicated. I can't really explain them myself. Not a good start to the morning. Random check in security. Then flagged at the gate to get my bags searched. Nothing can disturb me. I'm going to be home in time for Fuqua Friday. I have a direct ride from the airport with Allison. I can. not. wait. to see her and the rest of my pals.

On board. Pushed back. Engine down! Not starting up. They are oversharing, and I can tell that we are not going to leave today. They say that they can get the part from London within the window of flight time for the crew. No way. They take us back to the gate. They take us off the plane. Then they tell us we won't be leaving until tomorrow at 8:30 AM. I'm initially one of the first in the line, but I get annoyed by the folks cutting us off. I sit. I blog. Thanks for giving me an outlet.

They'll put us up for the night. I figure that being one of the last to be helped, if I approach the agents calmly and respectfully, they will end this chaotic rebooking on a positive note. I also strategically think that they probably make the cheapest arrangements initially, and I might end up with a sweet deal. If I get the dregs, that's OK, too. Because I'm embracing these moments of carefree lounging. I'm recreating those views on my launch out of Dar and onto my next chapter. I'm savoring the moments. I just hope they feed me because I'm a broke-ass grad student. 

Sweetest goodbye

So I'm all packed up. Backpacking backpack, duffel, and backpack. I'm deserting some of my most "African-ed" belongings. I'll stop by the office tomorrow to say my goodbyes. I've never been a fan of goodbyes. I feel like that's all I'm doing these days.

I'm back on my iPhone (this summer I mooched Allison's old iPhone, which I'm selling to my coworker), and it's strangely foreign. I also pulled out my wallet, something I haven't carried since arriving in Tanzania. Pretty prepared to board the plane tomorrow, but I wish that I knew when I would get outta Dubai. My flight is tomorrow at 6:20 PM and I'll fly through Doha, arriving in Dubai in the middle of the night. I have a long layover before I try for the first standby flight to Atlanta.

My last days here have been filled with dancing and drinking... just the way I like to leave a town. Jackie's Bar hosted me for some delicious dinner on Friday, and I'm piggybacking on other North American going away parties ('tis the season), including a BBQ today.

Last week my rafiki Fernando stopped me on my walk to the office and introduced me to his baby (usually I see him walking his other son to school in the morning). He invited me to see his home and meet his wife. While this is generally not something I would accept, I felt like after seeing him on a daily basis that he was a trustworthy character, and I was legitimately curious to see an authentic Dar household. We walked around the corner and he said hi to his neighbors. His curtained doorway opened into a room smaller than my bedroom with a queen bed, a couch and all of the family's belongings piled along the edges. There was barely enough room for the four of us (including a woman making ribbon banners, not sure what her relationship was to Fernando and his wife). Big smiles all around, lots of "karibus" to welcome me and lots of "asantes" to thank them for their hospitality. I went to work feeling very curious. I can complain about my first world problems... or even my third world problems, but the fact that this family appreciates life and is so willing to welcome a stranger into their unbelievably small and simple home... it's disorienting.

The next day a man with his infant baby on his back approached me, saying his son would like to meet me. We walked together a bit and chatted. They were heading to the clinic for a check-up. When we parted ways, he said "I know you can't give me your contacts but I would like to see you again," an uncharacteristically direct statement for a Tanzanian. His awareness of my understanding that giving your contact information demonstrates interest between men and women was refreshing after having to decline the request on other occasions.

Both of these stories show the sincere friendship and curiosity of Tanzanians. After being here for three months these interactions overshadow those less pleasant exchanges, like the bus station and some not so nice conversations with men (always men!).

Overall I'm still intrigued by the culture here. I'm not sure what people really think of me, but hopefully I was able to represent the US and Duke well. I don't have the opportunity to express my gratitude to everyone that has helped make this experience rewarding and transformational.

As is the general traveling international assumption, no news is good news, so if you don't hear from me until I'm back in the states don't worry. The soonest I'll touch down in Atlanta is 5:45 AM on 8/22 but it could be a couple days later. As an advanced apology, I am not one for souvenirs, so I come home pretty much empty-handed. One thing I'm very grateful to return with is the package of red licorice nibs that my friend, Daniel, gave our Zambia crew before we left Durham. The fact that I still have them symbolizes no crisis moments where I needed the comforts of US treats. I can't wait to dig into them, either to manage traveling woes or to celebrate my homecoming.

Thanks for reading and following me on this journey. I hope that I didn't overshare (a word that my San Francisco Family Dinner crew invented to describe our sometimes dramatic retellings).

Tanzanian epic summer complete! Caterpillar/Kirforce/Kiki/Kirsten out!

Things in threes

I've written about my life ratio before. I like seeing trends and quantifying the patterns of my life.

My summer seems to be "brought to you" by the number 3, stealing a line from Sesame Street.

• Three long round-trip bus rides: Nairobi, Iringa and Arusha
• Three reunions: Anne, Jen and Blake
• Three trips to our closest stations in Chanika and Mbagala
• Three glorious pikipiki rides (none with helmets, sorry Mom and Dad!)
• Three dance parties
• Three local beers: Kilimanjaro, Safari and Serengeti
• Three pieces of meat on a mishkaki
• Three sections of hair in the braids I regularly sport (old school without a dryer)
• Three premature partings of acquaintances 
• Three weddings I missed in the states
• Three weddings I attended in East Africa
• Three names: Kirsten, Kiki and my Dar Hash name...
• Three (hundred) followers I got us up to for the company Twitter
• Three ways to buy a solar lantern (I came up with the third option to sell the lantern separately from the panel initially)
• Three (thousand) shillings, the standard bajaj fare to the peninsula
• Three (hundred) shillings, the dolla dolla fare
• Three types of bug bites: ants, mosquitoes and flies
• Three (or more) nights in Dubai... depending on when I get on a standby flight.
• Three days until I leave
• Three months (yesterday!)

Outta time

"I'm outta time and all I got is 4 minutes, 4 minutes, hey!"

This post is inspired by and reminiscent of my time at Sunset when I "starred" in a parody video for this song with my amazingly creative coworker, RJ. I'm feeling really nostalgic these days.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

I'm outta time. This is my last week in the office, and I will fly out of Dar next Monday evening.

This is truly truly my last chance dance, and I'm taking it all in. When I return to Duke, I will return to a full calendar of incredible events and club activities. A full academic year of interesting and engaging classes. A full incoming group of first years. But half of my Durham life won't be there to welcome me home. Beyond the cultural shift, I think that the mass exodus of my supporting network will be the most shocking realization.

It's easy to get ahead of myself and think about the ultimate termination of this unbelievable adventure that has been business school. I have traveled around the world with classmates and friends. I have created intimate networks in places I never imagined. I have struggled to maintain a sense of my past life, and I must apologize to those whom I've neglected as I've pursued these self-centered dreams and ambitions. Those of you that have offered your unrelenting love and enthusiasm from afar despite my missing important life events, I am so appreciative of your support.

But I need to focus on the present. Put my eye on the prize and chug along. A lot can (and will) happen in a week.

Instead of "lasts" I'm continuing to pursue "firsts" here in Dar.

• On my plate: Prosciutto, hamburger, whole fried fish, sushi, fondue skewers (octopus, lobster, prawns). Remember when I was a vegan? Weird. 
• On the beach: Ferry to Kipepeo on the south side of Dar, roadtrip to Bagamoyo 40 km to the north. 
• At the office: Wrapping up my projects and rolling out my plan to the market.

What will this last week bring? Hopefully not too much stress. I don't want my return to be a reality check because I feel like I've been living a reality. But, it's true, it's an alternative reality. The reality I've experienced here is so different than the reality of school. 

My ills: I'm fearing a "does not compute" and figurative screen of death upon my return. My car will definitely be dead, and its plates are definitely expired. I haven't walked on carpet in more than 90 days. I wouldn't say that I look like I've lived in Africa (longer hair, not particularly sun-kissed and definitely not nutrient-deficient, I bet my blood pressure has increased with my return to animal products).

My thrills: I'm really excited about boarding a plane (not a bus), sleeping in a bed (with sheets), taking warm showers (with my amazing climate curtain!), using my iPhone (with Siri), eating BBQ and salmon (before I make an effort to go back to the green side), hugging my friends, riding my bike and running.

My mixed emotions: I never went to Zanzibar (although there's still technically time), and I didn't climb Kili. I will miss the vibe here: food, music, dance. I felt like the things that I did here mattered: to my coworkers, to our customers, to the people I met. I feel like the things I do in school don't have the same instant pleasure. I hope that I can resolve these conflicting feelings without backpedaling. 

"Time is waiting, we only got four minutes to save the world, no hesitating!"

Instant pleasure

Again, I'm at a loss. The words will not capture the moments, the seconds, the instants of pleasure that I have encountered over the last week. Alas, I must try to attempt to recreate them. The people (my loyal readers) deserve to know. 

Last week I did something very out of character. I wouldn't say that I'm generally a planner (impromptu trips to Nicaragua and Minnesota happened last year) because I love living in the moment. But usually I embark on adventures in a responsible manner. 

What does Kirsten do when she has just three weeks left at her internship? Oh, she spontaneously packs her bags and heads for the hills! Grateful for: awesome work culture and last minute boss approvals, time-consuming yet hassle-free travel, the most hospitable hosts and interim "assignments" that challenged my Excel skills.

So, what happened exactly? Where has Kirsten been and how can she be this grateful? I'll try to present this in an orderly fashion.

Setting: The weekend before was pretty typical Dar es Salaam: Jackie's, mishkaki (yup, I've indulged), dance parties and feasting. We said goodbye to most of the interns; I'm the last woman standing in the office. We went through a serious review of our business plan by some investors, which means that everyone has been feeling the pressure at work. Monday was the memorial hash for our friend that passed and over 100 people attended, very moving display of support.

Background/Purpose: I have been hoping to get up to see my MEM/MBA classmate/colleague/friend, Jen (you can read her incredible blog here) and two other Duke MEMs at their summer posting outside Arusha. They are working with a conservation organization and really experiencing the wild side of Africa. They taking sleeping on the floor (ahem, tents), electricity (huge solar array, 5 kW by my rudimentary calculations), running water (pumped from the valley, it is so dry up here) and cooking (family style!) to a whole new level!

Inspiration: The idea, initially, was that I would try to meet them for a safari. Although that didn't quite work out, "safari"  literally translates to trip, so in a way, I was still on safari and saw enough of the natural world to count as my African summer safari (when I was in Zambia in January our crew did a walking safari, so I got to see most of the critters through that adventure).

What actually happened is this:

• Monday mid-day: Jen and Kirsten chat about the potential for her to get up there
• Monday evening: Kirsten goes on the hash
• Monday night: Jen and Kirsten "hash" out more logistics, Kirsten calls boss, boss oks trip, Kirsten packs a bag and sets her alarm for 4:30.
• Tuesday morning: Kirsten doesn't even remember getting to Ubungo, but she thinks that she took a bus. She buys a ticket for a bus about to depart for Arusha and the trip is underway!
• Tuesday evening: Kirsten arrives in Arusha without phone credit or TZS so she resolves her communications and money situation and tracks down her colleague, Jodie, who has her own start-up in Arusha and has been working with Kirsten on some projects. They get African-style burritos and chill.
• Wednesday morning: Kirsten meets up with staff taking a load of diesel, cabbage, mattresses, etc to camp. The trio grabs chai and hits the road.
• Wednesday afternoon: Arrive in Noloholo. Settle into lovely dorm. Make no-bake cookies. Read in the sun on the patio. 
• Wednesday night: Watch a spectacular sunset. Enjoy a home-cooked meal. Exhaustion doesn't allow Kirsten to stay up to welcome Jen back from the Tarangire safari.
• Thursday morning: Early to rise, reunion breakfast, meet and greet. Turns out Kirsten has Giardiasis, which is quickly treated. Disaster averted!
• Thursday: Time in the office, Kirsten picks up some fun excel and program development projects.
• Thursday night: Kirsten realizes that she's probably not leaving tomorrow... or anytime soon. Kirsten runs loops of the grounds. Zen moments.
• Friday: Kirsten dives headfirst into Excel, creates some fun new tools. Clearly is not back in Dar as she told her boss when initially planning the trip. Earliest she could be back is Sunday, but is convinced to leave on Sunday. Phones are down all day, but gets the okay from the boss when the network is back up that evening.
• Saturday: Rewarded for sticking around with a trip to the local Masai "boma" for a coming of age ceremony (Wikipedia sums it up nicely). "Training" pays off when cow is sliced in chunks off of the slab, stuck in hand, inserted in mouth, chew chew chew, swallow, repeat frantically more than a dozen times. Also involves inserting a spoon in a congealed mixture and stomaching "tender parts and blood" delicacy. True carnivore test!
• Saturday night: Apple crisp, ice cream, bonfire. So many comforts!
• Sunday: Leave the bush. On the drive we see a giraffe, zebra, gazelle, ostrich and more! Jodie hosts again.
• Monday: 4:45 AM pikipiki pick up, bus ticket secured, back to Dar in time for the hash and to receive a Dar hash name!

Conclusion: I am basking in the bliss of this transformational experience. Instant pleasures all around. This is why I came to Africa.

Now to instantly check back into work and get things done. Making moves!!

Under African skies

Paul Simon, your words ring so true. I just have to borrow them. Thanks.

"Under African Skies"

Joseph's face was black as night

The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes

His path was marked

By the stars in the southern hemisphere

And he walked his days

Under African skies

This is the story of how we begin to remember

This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein

After the dream of falling and calling your name out

These are the roots of rhythm

And the roots of rhythm remain.

As many of you know, I'm an avid Hash House Harrier. The Dar es Salaam HHH has been particularly good to me during my time here. It's a breath of familiarity in a sea of uncertainty and chaos. Since I discovered that expats hash, I've missed only one Monday evening gathering of the hashers.

In short, hashing combines my five favorite activities: jogging, hunting (of the scavenging sort), drinking (beer), singing (out of tune) and laughing (during all previously mentioned activities).

At Duke (Law... ahem... Fuqua would never perform in such a disorderly fashion... high transaction costs and too many inefficiencies), we feature a live "hare" (setting a trail of flour and chalk just ahead of the runners) and gallivant through our Gothic campus. The naming ceremony takes precedence over all other circle traditions, which is the result of low requirements for naming, high attendance and way too much access to scandalous information about our classmates. One of the great things about having an extra year at Duke with the combo MEM/MBA is that I get to take part in fun times with fun people for just that much longer.

In Dar, hares set the shredded paper trail the night before (hoping it's not swept away by the locals) and then accompany us on the run, instructing us at broken trails and checkpoints. We dodge laundry lines and watoto (children) in the slums, puddles in the dirt roads, snakes in the bushes and rocks on the cliffs and beaches (see below). Songs dominate the circle with tunes triggered by keywords, responses to interrogation and complaints. Names are given only to deserving and dedicated hashers (I'm still Just Kiki at number 6). My time here is short, but the folks are welcoming and warm. I've definitely found a number of very paternal Brits and Europeans to keep me honest.

Last night's run was absolutely stunning. It circled the tip of the Msasani Peninisula from the beach on the Northwest across to the East and along the cliffs on the East Coast (see above) and back to the Yacht Club.

It was too good to be true. The night did not end well. One of the staple members of the Hash collapsed at the endpoint. He was looked after by a young doctor until the ambulance arrived, but he had serious head trauma from his fall and was unconscious. As he would have demanded, we continued on with the traditional fanfare, albeit with subdued fanning. We learned at the end of our reduced revelry that he had, in fact, died of a heart attack. We were shocked. Many of the longtime Dar hashers were very close to him. He lived a full life (although still not long enough, he was in his early 60's).

Death seems to haunt me. I feel as if I have said premature goodbyes to more people in the past six years than one should have to in a lifetime. This close encounter is a reminder to be safe, be healthy and be careful... but do it in a way that makes you happy and fills you with satisfaction. Because life is short and YOLO.

This is the story of how we begin to remember

This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein

After the dream of falling and calling your name out

These are the roots of rhythm

And the roots of rhythm remain.

Pleased to meat you

So. I have a confession. Family and friends get ready.

I've been consuming animal products.

Not just the occasional cheese or milk.

Let's take a step back. So I've been mostly vegan for 10 years. It started as a class project. I researched the health incentives of eating a plant-based diet and the complications of the US food industry (corn subsidy, yikes!). Adding to that I like planet Earth (use your water resources responsibly) and appreciate animals (let's give them some space, not pump them with hormones and let them naturally fertilize their grazing grounds, thanks).

I've successfully survived navigating menus and declining delicacies in Europe (Italy was a pretty easy home base, France and Hungary were the biggest challenges), visits to the Midwest, family gatherings, weddings, travels to Latin America, India and Zambia.

But I've found myself being less confident in my response to "why vegan" over the past year. I'm mostly concerned with the environmental impacts of our diets; luckily, so are other consumers, which has improved the access to local and sustainable animal-product food sources. North Carolina has epic barbecue (so I've heard) and fresh crab on the coast (so I've tasted). After I slid off the wagon and made the decision to partake in a crab boil in May 2011, I saddled back up and maintained the no meat and mostly no dairy/egg through the next year.

Then I tried some sushi before my departure to Tanzania. And it's been a downward spiral since then.

Before arriving in Tanzania, I created a number of goals for the impact I wanted to have this summer and the things that I wanted to accomplish. One of those bullets was to evaluate my vegan lifestyle. I explained to coworkers that I was mostly vegan, so meals in and with the office have always incorporated vegetarian options. In social settings, dining is definitely more about the experience than consuming food. Sampling all of the dishes is the most respectful way to show your appreciation. I've felt the vegan guilt throughout the last 10 years, but it's even harder when there's a communication barrier. I've found myself appearing quite rude without the capacity to explain myself.

Here's the play-by-play.

I ate ice cream.

And then eggs.

But did not consume this at a birthday buffet.

I sampled the fish here.

I did not eat this.

I resisted the urge to eat this roast at wedding in Nairobi.

And then I went to the wedding in Dar this weekend. I didn't eat meat at the reception, but...

We went to our favorite place, Jackie's Bar, where our crew chowed down on the best mishkaki (kebabs) in town. I still declined.

Insert total meat consumption breakdown. The next day I went to a poolside barbecue to celebrate a coworker's daughter's third birthday. They had chicken or beef. Those were literally the only offerings. I was starving. I ate chicken. Very tasty with the pilipili (pepper) sauce. Then I ate beef. Then they had fish, and I ate that too. I proceeded to eat meat all afternoon/evening.

How did I feel? Very satisfied and not sick at all. It won't be a common practice back in the states because I still can't afford the high quality cuts that I'd want to invest in if I was going to put something in my belly, but I will definitely take a special event into consideration.

Yesterday I had fruit and chapati for breakfast; lentil dal with rice and naan for lunch; fruit and veggies for dinner. Evidence that I'm still primarily vegetarian and vegan, so don't start celebrating.

But I'm warning you that you might not recognize my plate at some future gathering. Pleased to meat you!

Head West

Yesterday I hopped on a bus with 5 of my coworkers and headed West. We're in Iringa, a hilltop city that's a mix between Central America hustle and African bustle with some strangely American panoramas.

This is our most remote location, so I came out to see what's working and how we can make it better. One of my project deals with expansion in this area. Always important to check out the scene.

I'll trek back to Dar tomorrow morning, but I was happy to make the trip up here. Fresh air and great sights. The region is much cooler (everyone says baridi, which means cold), and is a welcome change from the heat of the big city.

Our bus trip took us through Mikumi National Park, where we literally saw giraffe, elephant, zebra, impala, water buffalo and baboons from the highway.

All in a day's work here in Tanzania!

Whoah, she's halfway there...

Whoah-oh! Livin' on a prayer!

This week marks the midpoint in my summer experience.

While I feel like I've accomplished a lot (personal, recreation, professional), this milestone means that my opportunity to make a lasting impact dwindles every day.

Luckily I was just assigned a behemoth of a modeling project with serious significance at the office. I'm also taking on some HR tasks, like creating employee/manager manuals and standardizing their review and promotion processes.

This week I also moved into a new house. I'm living with a some coworkers in a spot that's only 15 minutes from the office by foot (instead of an hour). The walk is great, too. It's through a very neighborhood-y area, where lots of people greet us with warm smiles. I'll miss my running route through the University of Dar, but hopefully I can discover a new, safe loop.

The house is really open and welcoming. Pros: high ceilings, no TV/AC/silly appliances and a big kitchen. Cons: foam mattress on the floor, mosquito-ville and less attractive plumbing situation. Regardless, I'm stoked about the move... ready to conquer the second half of my time in Tanzania. Take my hand, and we'll make it I swear!

Family frenzy

Familiar faces, flocking friends, fancy formalities, fully free-riding.

On Thursday, I crossed the borderline.

That border was Kenya/Tanzania, and it marked only 3 hours remaining in my journey by bus to Nairobi. A $50 Visa and $40 ticket had extremely high returns, including:
-Attendance at a phenomenal wedding
-Quality time with blood relations (cousin Blake is volunteering in a slum in Nairobi) and surrogate Kenyan family
-Local flavors: White Cap Lager, tree tomatoes, irio, porridge and arrowroot
-Birthday celebrations
-Kiddie cuddles
-Bishop blessings
-Bedtime at sunrise
-Song and dance
-Overall warmth and hospitality

'Twas a glorious adventure and well-worth the total travel time of 32 hours.

Video test

Here are a couple of videos I've taken. One's in Nairobi with our Zambia theme song, the other is in Msanga with the incredible panorama. 

Msanga-stic

Last week I took an impromptu trip to the bush with four coworkers. Msanga is where we have a solar franchise station (batteries are swapped at a station run by an entrepreneur that has part ownership of the equipment and is, therefore, invested in the success of the business).

I can't even begin to describe how beautiful it was. Being out in a remote village (it was a three hour drive by car, which was nothing compared to the bus ride to Nairobi) was truly a system reset, reminding me about what we are trying to accomplish, who the population is that we are serving and how far I've come since my days in hyper-developed America and the corporate world.

The highlight of the trip was visiting our coworker's family's farm. Orange orchards, cassava fields, papaya trees and maize. I wish that I could share with you the incredibly fragrant and impossibly delicious oranges that I consumed immediately off of the tree. So peaceful and so majestic. So grateful for this experience.

Chancing dances

So the blog title becomes relevant once again.

Over the weekend I got my dance on. I wasn't really planning on it. In fact, I really tried to not be in the situation that I found myself in.

Friday night was tame after the pre-wedding party. Rest and recovery. Saturday night was a different story.

I went to our favorite bar with my favorite coworker for some Ballantine's whiskey (error 1). Then to a new Brazilian Churrasco restaurant (I got the veggie discount). Then back to the bar. And then the night got really wild. My lack of Swahili was a bit annoying at the bar (forced to chat with a really "patriotic" Tanzanian), a little frustrating at dinner (3rd wheel!) and ultimately dangerous after that. I reached the max Mzungu on display tolerance level. This party was a rented out venue on the beach with only Tanzanians in attendance, and I had no idea what part of town we were in (error 2). People were pretty aggressive,  and I wasn't having any fun. So I tried to escape (error 3), got a little ambitious in my capacity to get a ride somewhere (error 4) and ultimately was told I needed to wait until a group of my coworker's friends were leaving. So I sat and sulked: Kiki crisis.

But wait, the young Tanzanian ladies that my coworker connected me with flipped my world and completely adjusted my attitude. They were so nice and welcoming; they saved my entire weekend! It helped that we went to a Mzungu club (note that it is now 2 AM) with nostalgic American Top 40 hits and a great view of the ocean... not to mention some good people watching. The girls tried to teach me how to shake it, but I really don't think I'm built the same way that they are built. Like my body does not physically make those movements.

I was dropped off by my five new friends at my doorstep as the sun came up. Granted I flaked on my plans to go to a beach on an island, but I managed to get up to a beach on the mainland and watch a bunch of folks kite surf. My friend let me fly her small kite for a bit, which I managed to plow into the beach a few times. I quit before I did any permanent damage to the kite or the kids playing on the beach. Maybe next time I'll be brave enough to get in the water with it.

No real plans for this upcoming weekend, just getting ready for the next week when I head up to Nairobi on Thursday (enter 13+ hour bus ride)! And then there's a 4th of July reception that the US Embassy is throwing on Wednesday next week (yeah, I know, it's not the 4th of July until the next week, but I guess we're a little eager). And before that I'll attend my 3rd HASH and get my Dar name, although I'm not sure it can beat She Shooters She Scores. I can't even describe how different the routes are here. Last week we went through a seriously low income area with tiny alleyways and kids sandwiched between us, yelling "On On!"

Pre-wedding party

So weddings are a big deal here. They are definitely a display of a family's wealth, but they are also the opportunity to keep up traditional celebrations. I was fortunate enough to be invited to witness the pre-wedding party of a colleague's friend's sister. This took place on a Thursday night. We arrived a bit late, but we were quickly ushered to a banquet table in a large hall with about 300 people. Unlike the mood-setting ambiance of American weddings, the place was brightly lit, so I could really take it all in.

We were served endless bottles of beer (I made the commitment to Serengeti lager and was not disappointed). Family members addressed the bride, wishing her well. One of her sister's served as her sidekick throughout the evening, standing and sitting in front of the crowd in glamorous royal blue gowns with lots of glitz.

The celebrations moved into a buffet dinner (incredible eats) and a chance for different groups of people (work friends, family, former classmates) to go up together (usually dancing in a line), present the bride with gifts and wish her well on her wedding.

One thing I really liked about this event was that people dressed in the same color scheme. I was wondering how everyone knew to wear red and gold (the bride and her sisters were very unique in their blue dresses), but I noticed that the invitation featured a red background with gold printing. Ah ha!

One thing I didn't like so much is that it went until after 12 and we bopped around a bit afterward, which made for a rough day in the office. And I think I'm getting sick.

But, it was a great experience. I was one of two white guests, so I definitely stuck out, but I think I represented the Mzungu population well!

Lights, camera, action

Composed Friday, June 8th

How do I capture this?

A truly transformational experience. One of my favorite Fuqua-inspired topics of conversations is about transactional and transformational experiences. Today has been the most transformational day yet. Piggybacking on the aspects that made it such is the idea of serving others; the goal is to be with rather than work for others. This requires being present physically and being active mentally and emotionally.

I haven't done a good job of either of these elements in the last three weeks. This whole internship is a bit of a selfish endeavor. While it is not financially self-serving (I'm not being paid) it is 100% what I wanted to do this summer and why I ultimately went back to school: to have the opportunity to embark on personal paradigm shifting experiences.

When I showed up at the office on day one, I was a bit surprised as I have been on any first day (Whitman, Sunset, Sun Valley, Nic, Babcock, Fuqua), and here I am, surprised to be surprised. That EGG already has robust models to evaluate opportunities, that they are just now creating a mission and vision, that they are facing challenges with their equipment, their customers, their impact and their staff. The two people that I shared the staff house with initially have returned to their other commitments, and the people that have been here the past week will not be here next week. My eagerness mutated into a bit of confusion, which ultimately became a bad attitude and a feeling of stagnation. That paired with bad dreams from the malaria pills and not having intentional interactions with folks at home (relying on passive information from sources like Facebook, Twitter and email), it's not the recipe for a transformational experience.

But I'm out of the red and back on top after a couple of good days. My colleague, Donatien, has been instrumental in this migration. While I'm complaining about not feeling useful, he's coming up with projects. After making a statement about the distance of our house from the office, he demands that I accompany him and a visitor to the Mbagala station. Also, another coworker has been giving me a good taste of non-Mzungu socializing.

So today required a bajaj (auto rickshaw) to the city center (we passed some fender benders and horrible traffic along the way), tracked down an elusive hotel, found the visitor, took a dala-dala (minibus) to Mbagala. I assumed my role as mysterious observer, only asking questions when I'm really curious about something, not forcing any interactions. Then that passivity is shaken when the visitor wants to see the home of a customer. I object, saying people aren't prepared for that intrusive activity. I get overruled and then eagerly accompany the group by taxi. We see an office with two lights powered by a single battery. The lights work; the customer is happy; we return to the station. Instead of heading back to the office in Dar with Donatien and the visitor, I stick around; I'm on a roll and there's an opportunity to see an installation.

It requires some serious transportation, but I accompany three fundis (technicians, all teens) to a remote village, where a Muslim school ordered the installation of six light bulbs in a dorm for boys. Now there are a lot of wild things about this. I gave up trying to learn Swahili and the fundis know some English, but when I can't pronounce the name of one of them (a common problem I encounter), I accidentally call him husband. Just one example of how entertaining I am to them. Then we pile in a van that will take us to the remote village. I try to not be an imposition, but carrying one bag of our supplies might draw more attention: mzungu lady with 3 guys doing manual labor.

We get to the village without a problem, it's around 2 pm when we arrive. The guys track down our client. Client's piki-piki (motorcycle) carries the equipment off, we walk with boys that I assume are his sons, but are probably students at the school. We walk for about a mile to the site, and when we arrive I see that this is a complicated job with extensive wiring, six switches and two batteries. One fundi climbs up in the tresses immediately; he's the lead, and his helpers are ready to work.

Me? I'm given a chair and instructed to sit, so I watch in awe, wishing that they would give me something to do because the only role I'm currently playing is white girl on display. Definitely a rare species in this environment. I manage to insist on helping, handing them tools and attempting to strip wires, but ultimately I appear bored and tired when in reality I'm incredibly impressed that these youngsters are making this happen. The only problem is that I feel like I'm going to faint. I had a huge breakfast of two (2!) avocados, but no water or snacks since 7 am. Luckily I'm gifted a coconut (laughter erupts among the crowd of kids and teachers when I try to pay for it), which is the most refreshing and delicious thing I've ever experienced.

Boys come in and out of the dorm, changing between their street clothes and their traditional white Muslim thobes. A few women pass by and I wish that I could communicate with them, but all I can manage is to shake hands, smile and say asante (thank you). Dusk arrives and voices rise to sing the daily prayers. "Husband" tells me that I have to go, it's getting late. I wonder what time they will finish the installation because it looks like they still have quite a bit of work to do. I'm escorted to the town center, where we arrived by van. But wait! I'm told that there are no vans at this time. A Muslim teacher/warden/superintendent? negotiates a solution: a motorcycle ride to a street with vans that drive back to the station. Yikes. No helmets, but no choice. I take a big gulp and saddle up.

I haven't mentioned the setting. It's incredibly beautiful. It reminds me a lot of rural Zambia, but with coconut trees and pineapple plants. This seems like paradise. The ride is long on a sandy road through small villages, but it's much smoother and more enjoyable than I anticipated. Then I have to shove myself onto a van, squished between people and sacks of potatoes. When I get to Mbagala, I find a luxurious dala-dala to Mwenge (my neighborhood in Dar), so I'm home free! Except traffic congestion means that I don't get home until 9:30 pm. Regardless, I am content. I look at the asphalt that has been squished by the combination of heat and heavy trucks, grateful for the mild weather and feeling like this day has had a similar and lasting impression on me.

Lights, camera, action? Today we installed lights. I did not have a camera. But I am on my way to having more action in my Tanzania life. I chug water and inhale dinner and manage to have a nightmare-free sleep. Undeniably transformational.

Kirforce does Tanzania

I'm in Tanzania for the summer. This is truly my last chance ski bum dance before I head back to Durham for my last year of grad school and then potentially start my life as a "professional." I'll just use this existing site to record some of my happenings.

I arrived in the EGG-Energy office on May 16th after a two night layover in Dubai. In four weeks, I've been to the rainforest (when it was raining!), an island, the beach, downtown Dar's botanical garden, cathedral, fish market and absurd brunch buffet. I've run through the University of Dar campus. I went on a hash run. I've been swimming in the Indian Ocean. I've visited two of our stations and observed an installation at a Muslim school. I've created a number of Excel models. I've been doing a lot of journaling, but I'll spare you the details of my Lariam-distorted nightmares. I did want to share an entry that I wrote on Friday after my trip to rural Tanzania, so that will be the next post. You can also check out my post for the EGG blog... gives you a sense of what we are doing here!