The Pope's Christmas Tree

Some time before Christmas, I received an email from my dad, asking if I had made plans for Christmas. He went on to say that if I decided to stay in Rome to celebrate Christmas with the Pope, he wanted to make sure I got a picture of the two of us decorating the tree. I laughed when I read the email but didn't think much of it. So, imagine my surprise when the next day, I walked into St. Peter's Square and saw a crane erecting a giant evergreen tree in the middle of the square! For the next two weeks, I watched each morning and each evening as men added layers of decoration to the Christmas tree. It actually started to feel like my own tree, and I wondered if I should ask to hang an ornament. A couple of times I almost considered going up to the tree and just hanging something on it when no one was looking. But I didn't...

After weeks of this, it was finally decorated. Then, the first time I crossed the square after Christmas, there was more to see. In the run up to Christmas, I had watched the tree go up and wondered why it looked like it was next to a construction site. Well, apparently it was, and what they were constructing was this giant creche. Beautiful!

When it was already too late, I also learned that on the 23rd or 24th of December, the Pope had actually been out in the square unveiling the creche, which was right next to the tree. So, in some attenuated way, I almost had a chance to fulfill my father's wish.

And then, one day in January, it was all gone...

New Country, New Beginning: Take an HIV Test Today

Three and half years, a referendum, and a new country later, I returned to South Sudan on 10 November 2011. The airport hasn't changed much. Arrivals is still in a single dingy room, where checked luggage is brought by a tractor trailer to an couple of glassless windows at the back of the room and arranged by baggage handlers onto a wooden counter. The only obvious difference I saw was the large ex-ray machine that all checked and carry-on luggage is required to pass through. This really reminded me of northern Sudan. I couldn't help but think they were checking for alcohol and then wondering why, considering its legal in the South.

I walked out of the airport and looked around the new outdoor waiting area, looking for either a familiar face or someone holding a sign with my name or organization on it. No such person appeared. Fortunately, after a few phone calls, I learned that someone I knew was on the way. My ride eventually arrived, and we headed off in IDLO's LandCruiser, the unofficial vehicle of the international aid worker.

Aside from the airport, the first thing to catch my attention on this return to Juba was a billboard with some representation of the South Sudan flag and the advice: "New country, new beginning; Take an HIV test today." This was one of many billboards I would see that used South Sudan's recent independence for marketing purposes, but it was certainly the most striking. Others were advertising mobile phone companies and contractors and government agencies. This one, however, stood out not only for it's message but also its apparent bravery at both calling attention to South Sudan's growing HIV problem and linking that problem...one that's not often talked about...to the country's greatest source of pride: it's independence.

My next ten days in Juba were mostly spent going across the Hamza Inn compound, from the IDLO office to my overpriced hotel room ($110 a night for a room that would have cost about $5-10 in many of places I used to visit in Eritrea). When I did get out, there was something new to learn or see every day. Juba, the overgrown village that I couldn't imagine being a national capitol when I visited back in 2008, is growing by leaps and bounds. I would not be surprised if three streets had been paved during my ten days in the country. I didn't recognize very much, to be honest. And even landmarks I thought I knew had relocated or changed dramatically or both. For example, AFEX, the tent city where I had stayed during my 2008 visit, is in a completely different location and is now made up of small bungalows rather than small safari tents and containers.

My time in Juba was also an opportunity for reunions. Many veterans of Darfur have ended up in South Sudan during the last couple of years, including several of my friends and colleagues from Nyala. As such, I ended up meeting up with three Darfur friends during this trip and tried to see another. In addition, while out to dinner one night with some colleagues, I couldn't help but think that one of the women at the table next to us was someone I knew from Nyala. I still think she might have been, but I can't be sure. Maybe I'll find out eventually. I'm also making plans to meet up with several other friends and acquaintances when I return to Juba at the end of January. It may not be my new country, but like the South Sudanese, I do believe I have a future in the world's youngest country!

A Few Thoughts about Ethiopian Airlines

So for my recent mission to Juba, South Sudan, I flew Ethiopian Airlines. This was my first time on Ethiopian Airlines, and I couldn't help but make a couple of observations:

1) The seat belts on Ethiopian are notably shorter than on most other airlines. They are so short, in fact, that the average size to thin Italian man sitting next to me on my flight from Rome to Addis had to ask for an extender piece for his seat belt. I wonder why this is. The only thing I can think of is that the seat belts are designed for Ethiopians who, on average, are thinner than most people in the world, with the exception of east Asians. I guess that's fair, but as one of the farthest reaching African airlines, one would think that Ethiopian would realize that most of their passengers are likely to be non-Ethiopians.

2) On my flight from Addis to Nairobi, we were given a menu from which to choose what we wanted for lunch. The first page of the menu contained a full-page write up about injera, the traditional Ethiopian/Eritrean flat bread made from tef. It went on to say that passengers on this Ethiopian flight had the opportunity to sample injera with wot and something else (probably shiro). But on the next page of the menu, the two choices for lunch were listed as beef cooked in soy sauce and prawns with noodles. So naturally, I asked the flight attendant if they had injera, because that was definitely what I wanted. And her answer, "No, we don't have that today." How can you hand me a menu that has a whole write up about how injera is available on this flight and that you should try it and then not actually have it as an option?!?!

3) On this particular flight, I flew business class. When I checked in for my flight from Juba to Addis on my way back to Rome, I, like everyone else, was given a boarding card without a seat number. I wasn't sure what this meant, but given my vast experience flying in Africa, I knew it was possible that I might not be given a seat number at all for this particular flight. Then, while I was in the waiting area, I overheard someone say that we would be given a seat number at boarding. And that's exactly what happened. As I went outside to board, I was handed a partial boarding card with a handwritten number on it. I couldn't read the number, so I didn't think to object when the man handed it to me, but when I got to the plane, I was told it was 25L. Clearly not business class. Nevertheless, I again decided not to object because on this flight, business looked exactly the same as economy, just in a different part of the plane! But I spent the whole of that flight plotting what I would do if I was put in economy on my connecting flight from Addis to Rome, where I definitely wanted to be in business. As it turned out, I had no reason to worry. But I still have no idea what happened at the airport in Juba!

Heard at the Nairobi airport: "East African Safari Air flight ... to Mogadishu now boarding at Gate XX." I'm sorry, but who takes their East African Safari in Somalia!!

Zanzibar

Nothing quite captures the luxury of being an ex-pat in Tanzania like weekends in Zanzibar. How many people can say they're going to Zanzibar for the weekend in the first place? Add to that discounted resident rates for flights and luxury resorts and one can start to feel pretty entitled. Of course, at this stage I am speaking with some perspective, as I haven't been to Zanzibar for over 10 months and have recently realized that if I want to go back, I won't get the resident rates.

During my tenure in Tanzania, I made five trips to the Zanzibar archipelago. That includes five trips to the largest island in the group, Unguja, and one trip to the more rebellious island of Pemba. Unguja is the island most people think of when they think of Zanzibar. Indeed, most people, at least people who are not from Zanzibar, just call Unguja "Zanzibar".

Each of my trips to Zanzibar was a little bit different. They were each different lengths and involved different destinations and travel partners. There were the scuba diving trips and the lay on the beach trips and the exploring the UNESCO world heritage site of Stone Town trips. In fact, I even attended a wedding in Zanzibar.

According to Wikipedia, "Arab and Portuguese traders visited the [Zanzibar archipelago] in early times, and it was controlled by Omanis in the 18th and 19th centuries. Britain established a protectorate (1890) that became an independent sultanate in December 1963 and a republic after an uprising in January 1964. In April 1964 it joined Tanganyika to form a new republic that was renamed Tanzania in October 1964. (Frommers, 2002) The capital of Zanzibar, located on the island of Unguja, is Zanzibar City, and its historic centre, known as Stone Town, is a World Heritage Site." Zanzibar has a bit of a dark history, as it was East Africa's main slave-trading port during the 18th and 19th centuries, and in the mid-19th century as many as 50,000 slaves were passing annually through the slave markets of Zanzibar.

I made my first trip to Zanzibar in August 2009. I'd been in Arusha for over three months and decided that it was time to get to the beach and also to try scuba diving again, as I hadn't been since 2007 when I received my open water certification during a one week trip in the Red Sea. I headed to the village and beach of Matemwe, located on the northeast corner of Unguja. This would be the first of three trips to Matemwe. I ended up at Matemwe Beach Village, a pleasant resort with an onsite dive center, a beautiful location on the beach and a laid back but upscale atmosphere. I went alone, and I enjoyed every second of my time there.

While this first trip to Zanzibar made an impression in many ways, my favorite moment probably came on the last day. I had decided to take a walk on the beach with my iPod. I was walking along, listening to music, and enjoying the view when I came upon a group of little girls between approximately 6 and 10 years old (the girl below was NOT one of them). They ran up to me and started speaking to me in Swahili. Now my Swahili at this stage was extremely basic, so I really don't know what they were saying. But then they asked in English for a pen. (This is pretty common. Kids in Tanzania are always asking foreigners for pens. With this in mind, I had my parents bring some pens from the US when they came to visit, and we gave them all away in less than an hour in a village near Moshi.) Of course, I didn't have a pen because I was wearing a swimsuit and a kikoi (swahili sarang) and carrying an iPod.

Then the girls pointed to my iPod and wanted to listen. Now, I wasn't really listening to kid friendly music at the time. I think it was something like Rufus Wainwright. But I agreed, and handed one of the earbuds to one of the girls and the other to another one. They listened but weren't that interested. Then I got an idea, and I changed the song on my iPod to Magic System's "Premier Gaou". Now for those of you who don't know, Magic System is a Congolese pop group, and Premier Gaou is a staple of dance parties across Africa.

The change in the girls' reaction to the music was immediate. They went from unimpressed to dancing and fighting each other for a turn to listen. I watched smiling as they passed the earbuds around and tugged at each for their turn. And then, suddenly one of them handed one of the earbuds back to me, and from her expression, I could tell that she wanted me to listen and to dance with them. Which of course I did. We continued this way until the end of the song, at which point they handed the earbuds back to me, and we continued our separate ways. Obviously, I never found out who those girls were or what their lives are like, but they made an impression on me, which I hope I never forget.

My second trip to Zanzibar was in October 2009. This time, I stayed for a week. I began the trip with activities related to the wedding of two friends, who I knew from Eritrea and later Sudan. I met the wedding party on the beach in Paje, on the east coast, and then returned to Stone Town for the actual wedding ceremony. After the wedding, my parents met me in Stone Town. This was my parents' first trip to the African continent, and Zanzibar was the first thing they saw. What a strange introduction!! Anyway, with my parents around, I actually tried a number of touristy things I had not done previously. In addition to exploring the historic sites in Stone Town, we also went to the Jozani Forest to see the Red Colobus Monkeys, who live no where else on earth but this tiny forest on Zanzibar, and on a tour of a spice farm. The spice tour was particularly funny, and resulted in photos like this one.

I returned to Zanzibar again in December 2009, when my friend Emily came to visit, and in July 2010, with a friend from the ICTR. Both of these were trips to the beach. One included diving and the other included snorkeling. Both involved a lot sunbathing and cocktails. Not a bad deal!

But it took me until December 2010 to make it to Pemba Island. I had been dreaming about diving off of Pemba from the moment I arrived in Tanzania. Back in Sudan, a friend had told me that Pemba was great for diving, and I had to try it. So, for Christmas 2010, I joined three colleagues from the ICTR for an epic weekend of drinking and diving on the north coast of Pemba Island, capped off by shopping in Stone Town on our way back to Arusha. On this trip I learned that scuba diving and a hangover do not mix, met a guy who was working in Juba, saw some amazing sea life, and ate a Christmas turkey dinner on the beach. Priceless!

Roman Holiday: Full-Time Job Addition

I've been in Rome for two weeks now. But to be honest, that still hasn't really dawned on me. I've been spending most of my time going back and forth between my new office and an adjoining residence affiliated with my organization. And to the extent to which I have gotten out, it's mostly been for food or drinks with my new colleagues. Indeed, I saw exponentially more of Rome during the 2.5 days my friend Callie and I spent here in 2000 than I have in the past two weeks. That isn't going to improve any time soon either, because I am leaving for Africa on Tuesday.

With this in mind, I decided today that I needed to get out and see a bit of Rome. I won't claim to have learned anything, and honestly, I didn't really see anything I hadn't seen before (except for the Piazza Navona, which I think Callie and I somehow missed in 2000). But I did get a feel for some of Rome (and of areas to avoid if I want to avoid the tourists). I also tracked down this amazing gelato Callie and I had back in 2000 and which I have been dreaming about ever since. It's no secret. The gelateria is lauded by Lonely Planet as having possibly the best gelato in the world. But I was glad to get back there.



So here are a few pictures from the day out. Key stops included the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, and the Piazza Navona.

I must say that while I took a number of photos of the obligatory landmarks, I was most moved by smaller, lesser known streets and piazzas. I found myself stopping and staring at romantic and unexpected restaurants and cafes. Or, as in these photos, at the faded, presumably renaissance era paintings on the side of what appears to be a currently inhabited apartment building.

POLE!!

I am of the opinion that "Pole" is the very best word in the Swahili language. In fact, it might be the best word in any language. And I'm not alone in this opinion.

"Pole" means "sorry" in Swahili. And it is often used just as "sorry" is used in English or "lo siento" is in Spanish. But it also has this other, more sarcastic connotation. Used this way, it is much closer to "that sucks" in English. And sometimes it comes across even more sarcastic than that ... kind of like, "sucks for you!" As a result, people in Tanzania often say "pole" or "sorry" while not sounding sorry at all. And of course, we expats jumped on this and started using "pole" more and more sarcastically. I realize that this view of "pole" as sarcastic is probably just the misunderstanding of a non-Swahili speaker, but it's a misunderstanding that I'm happy not to correct. This is what I like about "pole"!

Now, after approximately two years of "pole" in Tanzania, I am struggling to return to a life where people around me don't understand "pole". I still can't come up with an equivalent English phrase. So instead, I find myself trying to introduce "pole" to people who have never been near East Africa. Unfortunately, this feels like a lost cause...

But maybe with this blog post, I can persuade a very, very small segment of the global population to adopt "pole". Think about it...