The holidays are fast approaching--although it doesn't quite feel like it here. Sure there are Christmas decorations up at the malls (went up right around Thanksgiving time, just like in the US!), and the rainy season is persisting and keeping a slight chill in the air (okay, maybe 55 degrees--but did you ever imagine Africa could be that cold when it's nearly summer here?!). Perhaps it's that my last few holiday season have been spent in the cold chill of Boston, NY, and DC, but I will never get used to a warm Christmas.
Still things are winding down at work, and by winding down, I mean the Ministry of Health, along with the rest of the Swazi government as a whole and their operations are grinding to a halt. And yet it feels like there's still a huge amount to get done before the end of the year. But somethings may just have to wait, as it would seem that by the end of next week, things will get very quiet in Mbabane--the residence of the government agency offices and those of many of the programs and partner NGOs that work with it--and stay that way until into the first week or two of January.
In the meantime, we are making the last push to create a video presentation to be shown at the final round of the big grant application process, which was started back in August. We have been hosting a videographer from the Netherlands, who has been working to capture footage of Swaziland landscape, culture, and clinics. This will be used to show the donor organization just how big an impact our grant could make on the country and its people living with HIV/AIDS, and in the longer term for people all over the world. This amazing video demonstrates the potential impact that the grant would make possible and keeps us pushing through this final leg of the process!
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Halloween 2K10
After Halloween in Charlottesville, DC, and NYC, those are tough acts to follow. This was my third Halloween abroad—Rome during junior year abroad, Uganda, and I will say, from that small sample, Swazi takes the Halloween cake.
Halloween has become second only to New Years for being a holiday that I like the idea of but loathe in reality—too much buildup, pressure, and expectations that are rarely met. However, after a glorious day, there was still time for costume making and a big (well, at least—or especially—for Swaziland) party that proved to be a very good time.
I started the day off going for a run with a few friends in a game park. Yes, you read that right—running in a game park! There’s a small game park, Mlilwane (pronounced mil-WA-nay), which I actually went to on my first weekend here, and it is only about a 20-minute drive from Mbabane. It’s incredibly beautiful, with a large pond, rolling hills, and wide plains, and because it is spring everything is becoming so vividly green.
There is no large, carnivore game, just nice friendly zebra, impala, warthogs, and wildebeest, so perfectly safe to stroll around. You can take a horse ride or rent a bike as well, which one of my friends did, while the rest of us ran (and walked at times) through the reserve. After about an hour, we headed for the pool. There is a nice, cool pool looking out over the park with a big braai area as well. I will have to plan a party there at some point. We all changed into bathing suits and enjoyed a refreshing swim after the midday run. It was great to do the run and then learn about the free pool because Mlilwane is that it is park of the Wild Card park program that I just signed up for. For approximate $50 a year (I get resident rates because I have a work permit), I get free entry into 80 parks in Swaziland and South Africa (including Kruger!). So I get free entry every time I want to go run among zebra and then jump in a pool? Take that $80 gym membership back in NYC!
Just as we were getting ready to make a move for a late lunch, clouds rolled in and moved us along. We ended up at Boma, a great pizza place, and picked up a few other expats in the area, so that we had a party of 10 for pizza. (Do you get the sense we only travel in packs here? It’s true.) After gobbling down pizza, it was time to head home and construct our costumes—at, ya know, 8pm for an 8pm party. Ah well. We made it to the party just after 10pm. An impressive feat that was only accomplished thanks to the creativity and skill of two other friends who assisted my friend and me who were—wait for it—boxes of wine. Here’s where I must give a shout out to my dear friend, Jess, who premiered this costume several years back—during the early post college years (perhaps a more appropriate time to showcase it). But let me tell you, box of wine crosses borders, and here in Swaziland, it is quite ubiquitous, especially at my beloved Pick n’ Pay grocery store, where the 3-litre Dry Red Wine box set me back E 59.95, or about $9.
And, as an ode to my former, non-SUV gas-guzzling ways, the costume was highly recyclable—I took used boxes from the laboratory warehouse, used calendar pages covered the boxes to give a white background, and Pick n’ Pay plastic bags were split and woven to form the shoulder straps to hold up the box. (However, the sustainability of the costume proved low—it took quite a beating throughout the night.) After cutting, taping, painting, drawing, weaving, and tying, we were finally ready to secure the bags of wine (carefully removed from the box) and attach it to a sling around one shoulder, and then pop the tap and spout out a hole cut in the side of the cardboard box. Finito!
It was a hit. We walked into the party (held at an amazing house a few kilometers out past mine in Pine Valley) and people were amused. Then they saw the full-functionality of the costume and they were blown away. I’m telling you, folks, this is a foolproof costume, what’s not to love? I succeeded in sharing all my wine over the course of the evening, and happily ended the night on the makeshift dance floor, although the cardboard box had called it quits some time earlier. Until next year as a box o’ wine….
Halloween has become second only to New Years for being a holiday that I like the idea of but loathe in reality—too much buildup, pressure, and expectations that are rarely met. However, after a glorious day, there was still time for costume making and a big (well, at least—or especially—for Swaziland) party that proved to be a very good time.
I started the day off going for a run with a few friends in a game park. Yes, you read that right—running in a game park! There’s a small game park, Mlilwane (pronounced mil-WA-nay), which I actually went to on my first weekend here, and it is only about a 20-minute drive from Mbabane. It’s incredibly beautiful, with a large pond, rolling hills, and wide plains, and because it is spring everything is becoming so vividly green.
There is no large, carnivore game, just nice friendly zebra, impala, warthogs, and wildebeest, so perfectly safe to stroll around. You can take a horse ride or rent a bike as well, which one of my friends did, while the rest of us ran (and walked at times) through the reserve. After about an hour, we headed for the pool. There is a nice, cool pool looking out over the park with a big braai area as well. I will have to plan a party there at some point. We all changed into bathing suits and enjoyed a refreshing swim after the midday run. It was great to do the run and then learn about the free pool because Mlilwane is that it is park of the Wild Card park program that I just signed up for. For approximate $50 a year (I get resident rates because I have a work permit), I get free entry into 80 parks in Swaziland and South Africa (including Kruger!). So I get free entry every time I want to go run among zebra and then jump in a pool? Take that $80 gym membership back in NYC!
Just as we were getting ready to make a move for a late lunch, clouds rolled in and moved us along. We ended up at Boma, a great pizza place, and picked up a few other expats in the area, so that we had a party of 10 for pizza. (Do you get the sense we only travel in packs here? It’s true.) After gobbling down pizza, it was time to head home and construct our costumes—at, ya know, 8pm for an 8pm party. Ah well. We made it to the party just after 10pm. An impressive feat that was only accomplished thanks to the creativity and skill of two other friends who assisted my friend and me who were—wait for it—boxes of wine. Here’s where I must give a shout out to my dear friend, Jess, who premiered this costume several years back—during the early post college years (perhaps a more appropriate time to showcase it). But let me tell you, box of wine crosses borders, and here in Swaziland, it is quite ubiquitous, especially at my beloved Pick n’ Pay grocery store, where the 3-litre Dry Red Wine box set me back E 59.95, or about $9.
And, as an ode to my former, non-SUV gas-guzzling ways, the costume was highly recyclable—I took used boxes from the laboratory warehouse, used calendar pages covered the boxes to give a white background, and Pick n’ Pay plastic bags were split and woven to form the shoulder straps to hold up the box. (However, the sustainability of the costume proved low—it took quite a beating throughout the night.) After cutting, taping, painting, drawing, weaving, and tying, we were finally ready to secure the bags of wine (carefully removed from the box) and attach it to a sling around one shoulder, and then pop the tap and spout out a hole cut in the side of the cardboard box. Finito!
It was a hit. We walked into the party (held at an amazing house a few kilometers out past mine in Pine Valley) and people were amused. Then they saw the full-functionality of the costume and they were blown away. I’m telling you, folks, this is a foolproof costume, what’s not to love? I succeeded in sharing all my wine over the course of the evening, and happily ended the night on the makeshift dance floor, although the cardboard box had called it quits some time earlier. Until next year as a box o’ wine….
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Country Fair, Swazi Style
This past weekend was the Simunye Country Fair, and so much of the Swaziland population, including a sizeable chunk of the Mbabane expat community headed east for a weekend of festivities. I had no idea what to expect for a “country fair” in Southern Africa, but I must say that I was impressed. The rides were plentiful and the crowds were lively. I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking, but Friday night featured a popular South African band, Freshly Ground, and Bholowja, a “famous” Swazi musical artist played in the line-up on Saturday night.
But no weekend (nor week) would be complete without some car drama, and indeed there was plenty. Two long-time expats were on their way out after two-year stints with ODI in the UK. Their farewell weekend coincided nicely with the fair, which well over an hours drive from Mbabane anyways, so a weekend stay at a nearby lodge was planed. I know few words in the English language that are often so misconstrued as “nearby” (“soon” may be in the running). The Mlawula Lodge was within the namesake game reserve and just by an entrance gate of a major paved road—sadly, however, the one that gets locked at night. The other entrance is 17 Km north of the lodge cottages, along rutted, bumpy, rocky reserve roads. Now combine that with pitch-black darkness, a lack of intelligible signs beyond “Hippo Pool →”, and you can already guess this story doesn’t end smoothly.
We left the fair grounds a little after 1am, and did not arrive at the lodge until well after 2am. But we were among the lucky ones—well, some of us. Several people had driven their lower clearance cars not realizing that the 17km along a gravel road, as mentioned in the email, meant the treacherous journey that would entail. A few of the lower cars clunked along slowly, while I fell asleep in the passenger seat of a four-wheel drive, only to be awoken at the site of several people from our group pushing their hatchback into the tall grasses in the dark of the night, save for the bright car headlights staring down on us—one of the larger cars ahead had come back to along the narrow path to check on them when the call came in of the broken down car. It wouldn’t start, so we ditched it in the grasses until morning, and all of us (a four-car caravan now turned into 3) pushed onward, exhausted, grumpy, and confused—and anxiously looking for anything that resembled a lodge. Just as someone in the car said it felt like we had definitely gone 17 Km (I would argue it felt like 50, at the pace we had to go), far off we saw some light twinkling, which quickly drew nearer. We had found the lodge—and as we would irritatingly discover the following morning—the other gate.
Some others had arrived, yet some we would find out the next morning, would not be so lucky. There other cars remained circling throughout the darkened park until nearly 4:30am—they could have driven to Mbabane and back in that time. Needless to say, the morning revealed many cranky travelers recounting tales that could out-do each other, and I was one who escaped nearly scot-free (aside from the guilt of not having driven my SUV, but who knew “gravel” meant THAT). However, by late morning, we’d had some coffee, French toast and eggs, and some of the group had departed to get the broken car towed out of the park, and then to play in a basketball tournament held at the fair, while the rest of us lounged the day away, taking in the lovely scenery from the infinity pool. The lodge was completely empty save for our group.
We arrived at the fair in the late afternoon, only to receive the final piece of ridiculous hilarity. The basketball tournament, for which a few of our group had qualified weeks earlier in a starting round, had been canceled. Well, not exactly, of course, because that would be too simple. The organizers had realized too late, that the fair grounds had no basketball court, so they texted players to say the tournament would be held at 10am instead of noon at a nearby location. Only one team showed up, were promptly declared the winners, and the other 8 teams showed up more than a little ticked off a couple hours later.
Just when the fair had me thinking I was back stateside, many of the weekend’s events confirmed the fact that I am very far from home.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
My First Car
I’ll tell you what, if you had bet me a million dollars, I would not think I would buy a car—my first car—in Swaziland. But upon arrival in Mbabane, I quickly came to realize that I would soon need to become a car owner. A scary thought, as well the largest tangible object purchase I’ve ever made. (I know some of my friends are already homeowners, but if you think the idea of committing to a car has me stressing, I can’t even imagine…)
After life in DC, New York, and Boston, I was hard-pressed to give up my public transport ways, until there was no public transport. Enter Swaziland. Although there is “public transport” in the form of kombis (aka the matatus of Uganda), white vans that heave up and down the hills of Mbabane, each uniquely named “Unique” or “Jesus is my homeboy,” there are not the boda-bodas, or mopeds, that sped me around Kampala day in and day our for months. But in terms of general mobility needs, driving to the laboratory and back during work, and getting home after dark, and having any kind of freedom on the weekends, a car is key. And the car market here is relatively steady—there is a constant stream of expats in and out the revolving door, so often one can buy a car and sell it not so many months or years later for about the same price, or so I’m told.
Thus began a long search for the perfect car. And much like the search for the perfect anything in this world, it does not exist. But there are plenty of acceptable options, or so they seem. All I wanted was a sub-par option that will still be in driving existence when I decide to leave and sell it. The options were to go to a dealer and take a chance, get the car checked and hope not to get a lemon, or wait for an expat to sell their car on their way out. The former had me panicked; the latter had me bumming rides for two months. Finally, a Baylor doctor and her husband settled on a job offer short notice, and emailed about two cars on sale. One was automatic—did I want it? Um, no, not really, still don’t. Did I need it? Yes.
I am now the (proud?) owner of a 2000 Honda CRV. Yep, Miss Sustainability bought an SUV, and an old gas guzzling one at that—there’s no hiding it. But that just means if you come visit you will have a nice, lofty ride through the game parks (any takers??). Next up: car valuations, insurance quotes, and mechanic appointments. Oh the joys of car ownership. But after two-months of bumming rides, I’m finally a legitimate Swazi driver. I owe a huge thank you to my co-workers who shuttled me around until now—let the payback or pay-it-forward begin.
After life in DC, New York, and Boston, I was hard-pressed to give up my public transport ways, until there was no public transport. Enter Swaziland. Although there is “public transport” in the form of kombis (aka the matatus of Uganda), white vans that heave up and down the hills of Mbabane, each uniquely named “Unique” or “Jesus is my homeboy,” there are not the boda-bodas, or mopeds, that sped me around Kampala day in and day our for months. But in terms of general mobility needs, driving to the laboratory and back during work, and getting home after dark, and having any kind of freedom on the weekends, a car is key. And the car market here is relatively steady—there is a constant stream of expats in and out the revolving door, so often one can buy a car and sell it not so many months or years later for about the same price, or so I’m told.
Thus began a long search for the perfect car. And much like the search for the perfect anything in this world, it does not exist. But there are plenty of acceptable options, or so they seem. All I wanted was a sub-par option that will still be in driving existence when I decide to leave and sell it. The options were to go to a dealer and take a chance, get the car checked and hope not to get a lemon, or wait for an expat to sell their car on their way out. The former had me panicked; the latter had me bumming rides for two months. Finally, a Baylor doctor and her husband settled on a job offer short notice, and emailed about two cars on sale. One was automatic—did I want it? Um, no, not really, still don’t. Did I need it? Yes.
I am now the (proud?) owner of a 2000 Honda CRV. Yep, Miss Sustainability bought an SUV, and an old gas guzzling one at that—there’s no hiding it. But that just means if you come visit you will have a nice, lofty ride through the game parks (any takers??). Next up: car valuations, insurance quotes, and mechanic appointments. Oh the joys of car ownership. But after two-months of bumming rides, I’m finally a legitimate Swazi driver. I owe a huge thank you to my co-workers who shuttled me around until now—let the payback or pay-it-forward begin.
Friday, October 15, 2010
In support of water...
I had the opportunity to intern at a very cool organization, charity: water, last summer in NYC, working to help raise awareness and funds to bring clean, safe drinking water to the over one billion the world over who lack access. My time there, albeit brief, was a valuable lesson in both the inter-workings of a small, committed start-up (they just turned 4 years old last month!) and the innovative methods that some savvy nonprofits are using to inspire donors and communicate their successes.
In my brief time in Swaziland, I have still encountered that same challenge that nonprofits cannot escape--our goals are tied in no small way to the support of donors around the world. Without donors' generosity, compassion, and support for causes dear to them, this organizations simply could not help the many causes and people they help eveveryday. The world water crisis is a particularly far-reaching cause, in that clean water is the basis for basic human health. Without it, there is little hope for survival. So on this, Blog Action Day 2010, which this year is dedicated to the water crisis, I would like to suggest a worthy organization that is creatively and transparently tackling a daunting task, and that could use your support--http://www.charitywater.org/.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Ultimate?
a) Frisbee b) pain c) good time d) all of the above
I’m tempted to go with "b", but in fact, it did end up being closer to all of the above, with a little embarrassment thrown in for good measure.
In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not good at Frisbee. In fact my game compares similarly to my 5th grade basketball/softball skills, which is to say, not promising. Nevertheless, Frisbee is big here in Swaziland, and it would seem according to the tournament, throughout parts of Southern Africa, and one of the few (only?) organized sports that takes place regularly around town. And mainly, the Swazi team was in need of girls, as teams of 7 play and rules stipulate that you must have 2 girls on the field at all times--so my lackluster skills were still in demand.
The tournament took place in Joburg, with 8 competing teams, and it was no joke. People there are athletes. We played 8 forty minute games over the course of 2 days, and then I had also agreed to be in the ladies’ tourney (why oh why?), which added another game each day—wearing army camouflage and tiaras mind you, of course. Saturday night there was a big party, and we even brought the festivities (and keg) back to the house we were staying in—a huge four bedroom belonging to another former Swazi ex-pat now living in Joburg (and a former UVA Wahoo in fact!).
Needless to say, after a second day of 7am wake-up call and several hours solid of running up and down the field (often attempting defense, often looking like a chicken with my head cut off), I could barely walk. After being dropped off back at my apartment on Sunday night, I promptly eased myself into bed around 8pm, and literally could not get up until this morning, when I proceeded to hobble around getting ready for work, and as I would continue to hobble for the rest of the day.
I’m tempted to go with "b", but in fact, it did end up being closer to all of the above, with a little embarrassment thrown in for good measure.
In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not good at Frisbee. In fact my game compares similarly to my 5th grade basketball/softball skills, which is to say, not promising. Nevertheless, Frisbee is big here in Swaziland, and it would seem according to the tournament, throughout parts of Southern Africa, and one of the few (only?) organized sports that takes place regularly around town. And mainly, the Swazi team was in need of girls, as teams of 7 play and rules stipulate that you must have 2 girls on the field at all times--so my lackluster skills were still in demand.
The tournament took place in Joburg, with 8 competing teams, and it was no joke. People there are athletes. We played 8 forty minute games over the course of 2 days, and then I had also agreed to be in the ladies’ tourney (why oh why?), which added another game each day—wearing army camouflage and tiaras mind you, of course. Saturday night there was a big party, and we even brought the festivities (and keg) back to the house we were staying in—a huge four bedroom belonging to another former Swazi ex-pat now living in Joburg (and a former UVA Wahoo in fact!).
Needless to say, after a second day of 7am wake-up call and several hours solid of running up and down the field (often attempting defense, often looking like a chicken with my head cut off), I could barely walk. After being dropped off back at my apartment on Sunday night, I promptly eased myself into bed around 8pm, and literally could not get up until this morning, when I proceeded to hobble around getting ready for work, and as I would continue to hobble for the rest of the day.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Trade-offs & Good Wishes
I feel very fortunate to have this opportunity to be in Swaziland, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t times I feel acutely aware of all that I’m missing at home. Usually a gchat, Skype session, or good email chain will do the trick in curing some home-longing. But then there are moments where the reality kicks in and I’m reminded that my being in Southern Africa puts me very far away from the people I love and some of the big milestones in their lives. The last few weeks have had quite a few. And while I can’t be there to help celebrate, I’m thinking of all those wonderful friends, and wishing them all the happiness I can from afar.
CONGRATULATIONS to…
Sandy and Daniel Hinchman on the birth of their first child, Daniel Edward “Ward” Hinchman IV! What a cutie--and a little Wahoo in the making! Check out all that hair.
Abby Rotman and her husband, Ben, on their new marriage! Many a Holtonites was there to represent (and drink some champagne?) on my behalf, I’m sure!
Nani Abrams and her soon-to-be husband, Josh! I have no doubt the wedding will be quite the dance party!
CONGRATULATIONS to…
Sandy and Daniel Hinchman on the birth of their first child, Daniel Edward “Ward” Hinchman IV! What a cutie--and a little Wahoo in the making! Check out all that hair.
Abby Rotman and her husband, Ben, on their new marriage! Many a Holtonites was there to represent (and drink some champagne?) on my behalf, I’m sure!
Nani Abrams and her soon-to-be husband, Josh! I have no doubt the wedding will be quite the dance party!
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Another Moz Fly-by
Yep, I did it again—another 24-hour trip to Maputo, which has consequently consumed nearly 6 passport pages (they have an annoying habit of placing a sticker just so, taking up nearly another page each entrance). But I have a three-month visa, so why not go?
We left mid-morning, and arrived in Maputo in the early afternoon. Rather than hit the beach, which was very tempting, I decided to try to take in some culture and see a new part of the city, since it was my third time there after all. I joined the car that was heading to a cool art gallery, then to the central handicraft market, and finally to view the French cultural center downtown. After a couple of hours of more culture than I’d had in some time, it was time for a large group dinner at the fish market—still as good as back in August!
After some downtime at the large house in central Maputo where all dozen of us were staying (some very nice former Mbabanites and my hosts from several weeks earlier), we headed out to a special event, a jazz show that was taking place at the old train station. The venue was complete with two several bar serving drinks and jazz musicians (Americans in fact, sponsored by the US Embassy) performing on a train flatbed. After the show and just around midnight (yippee, late night!) we headed over to Rue d’Art, a unique outdoor bar and club, housed in an alley way of sorts, with a DJ spinning music in the middle of the street corridor, and an indoor bar off to one side.
We proceeded to dance for approximately 4 hours, although the last hour was admittedly more, “hey, let’s try to make it all night ‘til sunrise” because who wants sleep anyway? In fact, a few people’s early morning hunger pangs won out, and we went on a mad search for pizza—apparently not easy to come by in good ol’ Maputo. We finally did find it, but the location was less than ideal. Some street revelers pointed us towards what ended us being a gentleman’s club. Luckily the overt club activities of the evening had already ended as it was after 5am, so we managed to beg for a last-call order of pizza and then struggled to keep our eyes open until it arrived. When the pizza finally did arrive pizza, it was not half bad, and then we made way for home, as the lighted sky promised we had nearly succeeded in our goal.
The next morning included another trip to Café Sol of famed bagels and coffee (not really famous but it is to Swazi expats) and some Thai take-away—the perfect dinner to savor back safe and sound and early to bed in peaceful Mbabane.
We left mid-morning, and arrived in Maputo in the early afternoon. Rather than hit the beach, which was very tempting, I decided to try to take in some culture and see a new part of the city, since it was my third time there after all. I joined the car that was heading to a cool art gallery, then to the central handicraft market, and finally to view the French cultural center downtown. After a couple of hours of more culture than I’d had in some time, it was time for a large group dinner at the fish market—still as good as back in August!
After some downtime at the large house in central Maputo where all dozen of us were staying (some very nice former Mbabanites and my hosts from several weeks earlier), we headed out to a special event, a jazz show that was taking place at the old train station. The venue was complete with two several bar serving drinks and jazz musicians (Americans in fact, sponsored by the US Embassy) performing on a train flatbed. After the show and just around midnight (yippee, late night!) we headed over to Rue d’Art, a unique outdoor bar and club, housed in an alley way of sorts, with a DJ spinning music in the middle of the street corridor, and an indoor bar off to one side.
We proceeded to dance for approximately 4 hours, although the last hour was admittedly more, “hey, let’s try to make it all night ‘til sunrise” because who wants sleep anyway? In fact, a few people’s early morning hunger pangs won out, and we went on a mad search for pizza—apparently not easy to come by in good ol’ Maputo. We finally did find it, but the location was less than ideal. Some street revelers pointed us towards what ended us being a gentleman’s club. Luckily the overt club activities of the evening had already ended as it was after 5am, so we managed to beg for a last-call order of pizza and then struggled to keep our eyes open until it arrived. When the pizza finally did arrive pizza, it was not half bad, and then we made way for home, as the lighted sky promised we had nearly succeeded in our goal.
The next morning included another trip to Café Sol of famed bagels and coffee (not really famous but it is to Swazi expats) and some Thai take-away—the perfect dinner to savor back safe and sound and early to bed in peaceful Mbabane.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Grant Me Freedom
Boy am I glad I went to Moz last weekend, because as I suspected, things at work would be getting quite a bit more hectic upon my boss’s return from leave. We have an enormous proposal due next week—well really October 1st, so we have to have it ready to print sooner than that.
In the meantime, we have been brainstorming, writing, editing, and debating endless options for our proposal to the Dutch Postcode Lottery to which we are applying in conjunction with a NGO in the Netherlands called Stop AIDS Now!, along with a number of other collaborating partners. Apparently 4 of the 60 million Dutch play the Dutch Postcode Lottery, and they take half the earnings each year and donate them to charity. CHAI and SAN! submitted an early-round proposal and are now up against ten other proposals to see who will make it through to the final round. The potential payout of the grant would be 8 million Euros—of which the CHAI Swaziland office would be able to use 4 million to implement a number of “interventions” with the hopes of radically scaling up HIV testing and treatment by making it accessible to all Swazis, which in theory it is now, but for any and all reasons, the HIV epidemic is growing, and Swaziland can sadly boast the world’s highest rate of infection, striking 26% of the general population and 42% of pregnant women.
We have been brainstorming existing barriers to getting people tested and on treatment—rural population, lack of community involvement, weakened health communication system, never-ending list….and coming up with targeted projects to address as many as possible. Four million Euros seems like a lot on one hand, but as soon as the programmatic budgeting starts (and my main job has been crafting the budget), the money goes very quickly. But considering our current country budget is in the hundreds of thousands, a grant of this magnitude would be a huge boost for our ability to implement new initiatives. Just a few more late nights, and hopefully in a couple months time we will know if our hard work pays off…fingers crossed!
In the meantime, we have been brainstorming, writing, editing, and debating endless options for our proposal to the Dutch Postcode Lottery to which we are applying in conjunction with a NGO in the Netherlands called Stop AIDS Now!, along with a number of other collaborating partners. Apparently 4 of the 60 million Dutch play the Dutch Postcode Lottery, and they take half the earnings each year and donate them to charity. CHAI and SAN! submitted an early-round proposal and are now up against ten other proposals to see who will make it through to the final round. The potential payout of the grant would be 8 million Euros—of which the CHAI Swaziland office would be able to use 4 million to implement a number of “interventions” with the hopes of radically scaling up HIV testing and treatment by making it accessible to all Swazis, which in theory it is now, but for any and all reasons, the HIV epidemic is growing, and Swaziland can sadly boast the world’s highest rate of infection, striking 26% of the general population and 42% of pregnant women.
We have been brainstorming existing barriers to getting people tested and on treatment—rural population, lack of community involvement, weakened health communication system, never-ending list….and coming up with targeted projects to address as many as possible. Four million Euros seems like a lot on one hand, but as soon as the programmatic budgeting starts (and my main job has been crafting the budget), the money goes very quickly. But considering our current country budget is in the hundreds of thousands, a grant of this magnitude would be a huge boost for our ability to implement new initiatives. Just a few more late nights, and hopefully in a couple months time we will know if our hard work pays off…fingers crossed!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
If you're feeling newish, there's always someone Jewish...
L'Shana Tova, and Happy New Year! Year 5771, to be exact.
Not surprisingly, there aren’t any synagogues in Swaziland, although to be fair, there was a legitimate Jewish tribe in Uganda. Still, lo and behold, there are still a number of Jews in Swaziland. There are a few of us among the expat community, and on Friday night we held a Rosh Hashanah dinner for over a dozen people. The four or so Jews in attendance helped preside over a brief service, complete with homemade challah and plenty of apples and honey. At the dinner, a couple people mentioned another overnighter trip to Maputo for the following night, and I figured, why not—in keeping with my personal motto of “always go, never leave” ☺
I awoke the next day to a misty, foggy, rainy view out my window and was confirmed in my commitment to flee towards the warmer potential of Maputo. After a smooth 3 and a half hour trip, we arrived in Maputo and made our way to the Cinema Avineda, which was hosting a local African film festival. It was nice to sit in a movie theater again (there is none to be found in the whole of Swaziland, although rumors have it that one is on the way in just a few months!). After an early evening cappuccino, we made our way to the house of some friends of those I was traveling with (doctors who had lived in Swazi and now reside in Maputo in a huge house right off the main street.
Even though I haven’t been away all that long, the rest of the evening was quite a treat in a return to some things I’ve been missing and craving—Thai food and tennis. We walked to a Thai restaurant for a very delicious dinner, then headed to the bar next door to watch the Federer-Djokovic semi-final, which ended up being quite the match! Finally, after taking in some late night local music at a cool bar, Gil Vincente, we crashed, only to wake up (not late enough) the next morning head out to the beach to play Frisbee. And by play Frisbee, I mean watch other people play Frisbee. Frisbee playing is no joke here—and at that morning practice, despite a strong wind along the beach, the players were not messing around. A local player kindly gave me a brief instruction on how to improve my throw (no where to go but up!) and then I lounged on the beach until it was time to hit up the craft market and grab a delicious gelato on the way out of town.
All in all, another great, if brief, to Maputo. Swaziland really is a little gem of a location in Southern Africa, and it seems only appropriate to take advantage of the proximity to some other fascinating countries.
Not surprisingly, there aren’t any synagogues in Swaziland, although to be fair, there was a legitimate Jewish tribe in Uganda. Still, lo and behold, there are still a number of Jews in Swaziland. There are a few of us among the expat community, and on Friday night we held a Rosh Hashanah dinner for over a dozen people. The four or so Jews in attendance helped preside over a brief service, complete with homemade challah and plenty of apples and honey. At the dinner, a couple people mentioned another overnighter trip to Maputo for the following night, and I figured, why not—in keeping with my personal motto of “always go, never leave” ☺
I awoke the next day to a misty, foggy, rainy view out my window and was confirmed in my commitment to flee towards the warmer potential of Maputo. After a smooth 3 and a half hour trip, we arrived in Maputo and made our way to the Cinema Avineda, which was hosting a local African film festival. It was nice to sit in a movie theater again (there is none to be found in the whole of Swaziland, although rumors have it that one is on the way in just a few months!). After an early evening cappuccino, we made our way to the house of some friends of those I was traveling with (doctors who had lived in Swazi and now reside in Maputo in a huge house right off the main street.
Even though I haven’t been away all that long, the rest of the evening was quite a treat in a return to some things I’ve been missing and craving—Thai food and tennis. We walked to a Thai restaurant for a very delicious dinner, then headed to the bar next door to watch the Federer-Djokovic semi-final, which ended up being quite the match! Finally, after taking in some late night local music at a cool bar, Gil Vincente, we crashed, only to wake up (not late enough) the next morning head out to the beach to play Frisbee. And by play Frisbee, I mean watch other people play Frisbee. Frisbee playing is no joke here—and at that morning practice, despite a strong wind along the beach, the players were not messing around. A local player kindly gave me a brief instruction on how to improve my throw (no where to go but up!) and then I lounged on the beach until it was time to hit up the craft market and grab a delicious gelato on the way out of town.
All in all, another great, if brief, to Maputo. Swaziland really is a little gem of a location in Southern Africa, and it seems only appropriate to take advantage of the proximity to some other fascinating countries.
Friday, September 10, 2010
A (Few) Day(s) at the Beach
I missed out on summer. Well, not exactly—I certainly experienced all the humidity that a DC July has to offer, but there was not a ton of relaxation to be had. As myself and too many of my friends have experience, unemployment does not equal relaxation. Yes, you have all this “free time” but also feel like you should be constantly making efforts to land a job (although some people can get past this, and I admire that to a point!). Nevertheless, there were a few days of funemployment and trips to NY to see friends, but there was also anxiety, unpacking, interviewing, and repacking. So when I had the opportunity to tag along on a beach weekend—I jumped at the chance.
We were planning to head to Xai Xai, a chill resort spot on the Mozambique coast a few hours north of Maputo. But upheaval around Maputo put a giant kink in that plan. It very abrupt to hear of the riots, although apparently tension has been building there as the bread prices have risen dramatically. Whenever family and friends worry about my being in Africa and asking whether I feel safe, I truthfully answer that much of the time I really do. Yes, it’s important to be aware and on your guard, but it’s often not nearly as unsafe as the general perceptions or media often lead people to believe or fear the unfamiliar. But I will say that I sometimes sense a precariousness, as a result of many dire social and economic circumstances brewing, that when the tension mounts and nerves snap, it seems to spread more easily and rapidly. Apparently police fired into the crowd of onlookers and from then on the city was on tight lockdown. In fact, one Swazi expat was in Maputo for a work conference that week, and confirmed that the city was on lockdown.
Instead, we took a 4-5 hours drive down to the South African coast with no problems (although that country continues to have issues as well, and by that I mean massive nationwide strikes). Thanks to yet another expat connection, we stayed at a large house owned by a friend of many attendees just a short drive from the beach, and a short walk from main street. We spent the weekend on the beach, game driving, and feasting on seafood—certainly a perfectly acceptable “backup” vacation.
In fact, a couple people from the group even went out fishing the last morning, so we had a braai complete with fresh fish upon our return to landlocked Swaziland!
Monday, September 6, 2010
So What?
Last week I attended a 6-day training focused on techniques for efficient and effective implementation of new World Health Organization (WHO) guidelines concerning prevention of mother to child HIV transmission (PMTCT). The approximately three dozen attendees included mostly Ministry of Health (MOH) employees and regional supervisors, and only a handful of partners (NGOs)—Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation (EGPAF), Mothers to Mothers, and of course CHAI (represented by yours truly). The new guidelines, were recently adopted by Swaziland, and call for some significant adjustments to standards of care for pregnant women, such a prophylaxis to be given to children and calling for sustained breastfeeding for 12 months with continued prophylaxis.
The course for the week was basically like a rapid Executive MBA, put on through a joint effort by Johnson & Johnson (funding), UCLA Anderson School of Management and AMREF (instruction) through an initiative called the Management Development Institute. It had just finished trainings in Cape Town the week beforehand; there was another going on in Ghana.
Needless to say, many parts were redundant for me. We had three-hour courses on Leadership & Management, Organizational Planning, Financial Management, Marketing, and Operations.
The most interesting part for me was developing our goals for implementing the new PMTCT guidelines—significant changes include placing the mother on ART medication at 14 weeks of gestation and placing an exposed baby (meaning the mother is HIV positive; antibodies in the baby’s blood stream from the mom means that the baby’s on HIV status cannot be determined until six weeks) on prophylaxis at birth and continuing on it through (the encouraged) 12-months of breast feeding plus one additional week. Phew. And that’s just two of them. Things get quite technical quite fast.
In any case, back to the goals. The 35 participants were split into 5 different teams—one for each region and one national team. I was team Lubumbo, the eastern region that is one of the poor regions. We had to write out what we considered to be the major current challenges and barriers to implementing PMTCT (this can go on forever—lack of systems, human resources, training, etc.) and then decide on three problems to target, and develop a mission statement for each goal and then a process-oriented objective (i.e. Train one nurse from every facility in the region) and an outcome oriented objective (i.e. Enable nurses to provide better PMTCT care for patients) that had to be SMART (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, Timely). We were asked to continually test our goals and objectives by asking “So what?” Such as, we are training 30 nurses—so what?? Do we really think they will then be prepared to implement all the new guidelines on a regular basis?
It proved to be very challenging for our team, as proved by the fact that that task took us close to 6 hours to accomplish. And, in fact, it’s really not simple—I should use that SMART rule for more goals in my life. The surprising thing was how hard it was to come up with goals that really hit home on those five points. And how to measure it??? I know we talked endlessly about measuring impact in many of my nonprofit management courses, and there remains no simple answer—just continued effort to try to really hone in on goals and align funding and time with these as carefully as possible.
As the only non-African participant, there were certainly a few lonely dinners in the midst of a sea of other colleagues who knew and worked together, as well as moments were I felt suffocated by a life lived day-in-day-out within a hotel and fueled by teas and enormous, underwhelming buffets every two hours. On the other hand, by the end of the week, I had formed friendly connections with many of them, and definitely bonded with my Lubombo Team (Exhibit A), and seen many of the other participants challenged and absorbed in learning and processing all the new material thrown at them. I was happy to be free of the buffet line, but also happy to have had the chance to attend.
The course for the week was basically like a rapid Executive MBA, put on through a joint effort by Johnson & Johnson (funding), UCLA Anderson School of Management and AMREF (instruction) through an initiative called the Management Development Institute. It had just finished trainings in Cape Town the week beforehand; there was another going on in Ghana.
Needless to say, many parts were redundant for me. We had three-hour courses on Leadership & Management, Organizational Planning, Financial Management, Marketing, and Operations.
The most interesting part for me was developing our goals for implementing the new PMTCT guidelines—significant changes include placing the mother on ART medication at 14 weeks of gestation and placing an exposed baby (meaning the mother is HIV positive; antibodies in the baby’s blood stream from the mom means that the baby’s on HIV status cannot be determined until six weeks) on prophylaxis at birth and continuing on it through (the encouraged) 12-months of breast feeding plus one additional week. Phew. And that’s just two of them. Things get quite technical quite fast.
In any case, back to the goals. The 35 participants were split into 5 different teams—one for each region and one national team. I was team Lubumbo, the eastern region that is one of the poor regions. We had to write out what we considered to be the major current challenges and barriers to implementing PMTCT (this can go on forever—lack of systems, human resources, training, etc.) and then decide on three problems to target, and develop a mission statement for each goal and then a process-oriented objective (i.e. Train one nurse from every facility in the region) and an outcome oriented objective (i.e. Enable nurses to provide better PMTCT care for patients) that had to be SMART (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, Timely). We were asked to continually test our goals and objectives by asking “So what?” Such as, we are training 30 nurses—so what?? Do we really think they will then be prepared to implement all the new guidelines on a regular basis?
It proved to be very challenging for our team, as proved by the fact that that task took us close to 6 hours to accomplish. And, in fact, it’s really not simple—I should use that SMART rule for more goals in my life. The surprising thing was how hard it was to come up with goals that really hit home on those five points. And how to measure it??? I know we talked endlessly about measuring impact in many of my nonprofit management courses, and there remains no simple answer—just continued effort to try to really hone in on goals and align funding and time with these as carefully as possible.
As the only non-African participant, there were certainly a few lonely dinners in the midst of a sea of other colleagues who knew and worked together, as well as moments were I felt suffocated by a life lived day-in-day-out within a hotel and fueled by teas and enormous, underwhelming buffets every two hours. On the other hand, by the end of the week, I had formed friendly connections with many of them, and definitely bonded with my Lubombo Team (Exhibit A), and seen many of the other participants challenged and absorbed in learning and processing all the new material thrown at them. I was happy to be free of the buffet line, but also happy to have had the chance to attend.
Monday, August 30, 2010
All the Single Ladies
This past Sunday, I attended one of the most significant annual cultural events in the Kingdom of Swaziland—the Umhlanga, or Reed Dance. As accurately described on Wikipedia, it consists of the following:
An annual Swazi and Zulu tradition held in August or September. Tens of thousands of unmarried and childless Swazi/Zulu girls and women travel from their villages to participate in the eight-day event. In Swaziland they gather at the Queen Mother's royal village, which currently is Ludzidzini Royal Village, while Nongoma is the site of the royal reed dance in Zululand.
After arriving at the Queen Mother's royal residence, or Enyokeni Palace in Zululand, the women disperse the following night to surrounding areas and cut tall reeds. The following night they bundle them together and bring them back to the Queen Mother to be used in repairing holes in the reed windscreen surrounding the royal village. After a day of rest and washing the women prepare their traditional costumes consisting of a bead necklace, rattling anklets made from cocoons, a sash, and skirt. Many of them carry the bush knife they used to cut the reeds as a symbol of their virginity.
Today's Reed Dance ceremony developed in the 1940's and 50's from the Umcwasho custom where young girls were placed in age regiments to ensure their virginity. Once they reached the age of marriage they would perform labor for the Queen Mother followed by dancing and a feast. The official purpose of the annual ceremony is to preserve the women's chastity, provide tribute labor for the Queen Mother, and produce solidarity among the women through working together.
The women sing and dance as they parade in front of the royal family as well as a crowd of spectators, tourists and foreign dignitaries. After the parade, groups from select villages take to the center of the field and put on a special performance for the crowd. The King's many daughters also participate in the Umhlanga ceremony and are distinguished by the crown of red feathers in their hair.
I was scheduled to attend a weeklong training in Pigg’s Peak in northern Swaziland (which just means all of an hour’s drive from Mbabane!). It had been planned to begin on Monday, the public holiday in honor of the Reed Dance, so my only options were to attend Sunday’s festivities or miss out completely. In fact, as luck would have it, Sunday is the day when the women present the reeds, so I saw that stage of the ceremony as well as some bare-breasted dancing. I have a feeling that somehow this cultural event is fortunately a fairly well kept secret, because I can’t figure out why my guy friends didn’t know about this and try to schedule a visit to Swaziland in time for the big event.
The other significant part of the ceremony is that the king uses this ceremony to choose another wife—although some years he does not pick one, and usually it is pre-determined well before the ceremonial week. I refrained from participating, and thus gave up a chance to be the king’s 15th wife (and launch an internal pro-democracy coup from within the monarchy in the spirit of my dear father—sorry, PapaLo). However, there were three participants who were not Swazi—one white girl and two Asian girls (although the latter two were clothed on top). In any case, I hear that it is quite a process to be able to participate, and I am not up to that challenge.
All in all, it was a perfectly pleasant event, especially since after a few minutes surrounded by thousands of young women (the claim was that 60,000 attended) the lack of female attire loses it shock value (although I will say that the thick middle aged men dressed in only cloth-bound skirts was more disconcerting for me by far). The sounds of singing and the sights of dancing and elaborate outfits and swaying reeds were interesting for at least a few hours. There were also many adorable little girls dressed to the nines. Apparently some of the costumes, such as the beaded skirts are very expensive (the information booth told me that at one point they were tied to the price of a cow), and so they are passed down through families.
Who knows how long the ceremony went on Sunday night or again on Monday? I do not, but I’m glad I got to take in a little Swazi culture for an afternoon.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Hiking 101
I needed it. It’s not that I’ve never hiked before (a two-week trip to Colorado in high school, more than a few trips up Humpback Rock during college, jungle treks during my year abroad before b-school), but it sure has been a while since I took a good long hike. Thus, my first performance in Swaziland was admittedly less than stellar.
A big group of expats had been out on Friday night, at a benefit concert at House on Fire (a cool music venue--think House of Blues, but in the middle of fields and mountains in the valley outside Mbabane). I probably did not return home until 2am, so when a 9am wake-up call for a hike the following (ahem, later that) day was proposed. Me? On a Saturday?? Seemed highly unlikely, but I managed to drag myself out of bed. A group of 6 of us started out from the backyard of one expat’s house (one which put my darling little cottage to shame—the places here are lovely and have the views to match), which sits just opposite Sibebe, the largest exposed granite rock in the world. We trekked some yellowed grassy fields towards the mountains strewn with boulders, rising out of the ash and soot of grasses burned by the clearing of winter grasses. The air was thick with dust and ash kicked up as we maneuvered up the slope. That and the altitude got the best of me, and just 15 minutes later, I was huffing and puffing, and very much bringing up the rear of the group.
But about an hour later (for me, perhaps 15 minutes behind most of the others), I reached the boulders perch on top of the mountain, and took in a 360 degree view. Completely worth it. After a few photo shoots (Exhibit A):
And snacks, water, and chatting, we made our way back down the slope (much easier!) and walked through the fields past a small series of waterfalls and pools (a must-return once summer fully arrives!).
I felt a bit sore that night, but decided to fight fire with fire. I was up at 9am Sunday morning, this time for a hike in Malolotja—a nature reserve an hour NW of Mbabane. The views were spectacular, and I was assured that they would only be more so in the coming months thanks to summertime. We set out on a trail in search of a large waterfall, and trekking down some boulder-filled mountains and across a small river, promptly lost any trace of a trail. Thus we spent the next one or two hours scrambling through dry and thorny brush, trying to get sure footing on the rocks. We finally arrived at an outcropping that looked out over a waterfall far below. After a snack break, we continued around the mountain to the other side for an even more death-defying view. There were four of us hiking, and I was still lagging towards the back, but it still felt a whole lot better than the day before. On the way back, we spotted more of a trail and ended up returning towards the car much faster than our way out. However, there was still what looked like a wall of small boulders on the final mountainside. The day concluded with a stop at the main lodge for some well-deserved beers matched by a peaceful and stunning view.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Back to Work
As someone who has not worked in 3 (yes, count ‘em, 3) years, and prior worked in the publishing industry, which stressed work-life balance (even if I therefore couldn’t afford much of that life in NY), the transition to Swaziland has included not just cultural adjustment but major lifestyle adjustment. As my parents assessed on the phone the other night, after I had told of my early to bed weekdays and early to hike weekends, it’s very healthy. (As long as you ignore the chicken & chips consumed at least 3 days per week.)
I was surprised at the early work hours, but most employees are at their desk by 8:00am, if not earlier—as attested by the 15-minute rush hour that exists in town from 7:45-8:00am. My boss has been picking me up on her way into town as I’m still carless, so I rouse myself by 7ish and stumble blurry-eyed to the most-wonderful-shower-on-earth-or-at-least-in-this-hemisphere: Super-hot waterfall in an instant—bliss. It’s been quite chilly in the mornings (it’s true, as much as I could not fathom as I packed in the summer heat of DC, Africa does get cold), so I’ve been wearing every layer I brought. My days so far have consisted of meeting with my boss and getting up to speed on all things public health, specifically HIV/AIDS.
My first project is a big one—very interesting and challenging—implementation of a national sample transportation system, a network of 5 trucks and 4 motorcycles that will drive various routes weekly to collect blood samples for testing at major laboratories around the country (most clinics only have the capacity to do routine tests) and then bring the corresponding results back for patients—hopefully improving the rate of accurate diagnoses and resulting in more timely treatment. Swaziland is a small country, with just 1 million people, but 80% of the inhabitants live in rural areas spread across four regions, so coordinating the moving parts of the 160+ clinics is still a lot to assess and coordinate. This project has been in development for nearly 2 years, and implementation is just weeks away.
Wish me luck!
I was surprised at the early work hours, but most employees are at their desk by 8:00am, if not earlier—as attested by the 15-minute rush hour that exists in town from 7:45-8:00am. My boss has been picking me up on her way into town as I’m still carless, so I rouse myself by 7ish and stumble blurry-eyed to the most-wonderful-shower-on-earth-or-at-least-in-this-hemisphere: Super-hot waterfall in an instant—bliss. It’s been quite chilly in the mornings (it’s true, as much as I could not fathom as I packed in the summer heat of DC, Africa does get cold), so I’ve been wearing every layer I brought. My days so far have consisted of meeting with my boss and getting up to speed on all things public health, specifically HIV/AIDS.
My first project is a big one—very interesting and challenging—implementation of a national sample transportation system, a network of 5 trucks and 4 motorcycles that will drive various routes weekly to collect blood samples for testing at major laboratories around the country (most clinics only have the capacity to do routine tests) and then bring the corresponding results back for patients—hopefully improving the rate of accurate diagnoses and resulting in more timely treatment. Swaziland is a small country, with just 1 million people, but 80% of the inhabitants live in rural areas spread across four regions, so coordinating the moving parts of the 160+ clinics is still a lot to assess and coordinate. This project has been in development for nearly 2 years, and implementation is just weeks away.
Wish me luck!
Monday, August 16, 2010
24 Hours in Mozambique
Last Thursday, at a brai (South African for “BBQ”), a co-worker fresh of a previous weekend trip to Mozambique for a Frisbee tournament, proposed a trip to the capital, Maputo, for Friday night. We would be back in Mbabane in time for a big party on Saturday night. I anticipated that this plan was lacking any real follow-through, but packed a few items on Friday morning before running out of my cottage to catch my ride. I really mean just a few items: a sundress and bikini, thrown in a ziplock bag with my toothbrush, as Maputo is much warmer thanks to its coastal locale. But in the office that morning, I asked, “So that was just a joke fueled by a couple of beers?” I was proven wrong. There would be 5 of us heading to Mozambique that evening at 5pm, undertaking the three and a half hour drive.
We departed Mbabane and headed east, crossing the boarder just after dark, after a 40-minute wait for a few single-entry visas. We arrived at our backpackers, Fatima’s, dropped our bags, and made way for dinner, ending up at a local restaurant, Miramar, for some delicious seafood—calamari, prawns, fish and some large draft beers. We went out to a couple clubs around town, ending the night at a tasteful place known as Coconuts. It was packed, and stayed open late, as in NYC late, a novelty coming from sleepy Mbabane.
The next morning we headed to a great breakfast spot, Café Sol, for some excellent Mozambique coffee (brought a bag home with me) and bagels! Then we made way for the beach, which stretches far, far out at low tide. It was a lovely sight, but not the best for swimming, although the waters did not seem the cleanest anyways. But the highlight of the trip still lay ahead. We hopped back in the car and headed over to the fish market in town. A couple of the group had been to the fish market on their last visit and recognized their restaurant hostess, so we joined with her, and she escorted us around the cramped, aromatic market, but we did the bargaining. Not sure how well we really did actually, but we got a good haul of fresh seafood for less than $15/person. There were heaps of fresh, whole fish—bright pink skin, glossy gray—piles of lobsters and crabs, and water-filled bins chock full of prawns and clams. We picked three fish, a couple pounds of clams, a couple dozen prawns, and a one and a half kilogram crab (over three pounds), and walked around the corner to the open-air courtyard surrounded by restaurants and many hawkers selling their wares. About 45 minutes later, out came the freshest steamed clams, followed not long after by garlic/butter prawns, grilled fish, and steamed crab. Along with some large Laurentina Preta (a great dark beer) sitting in the warm sun, I was one happy girl. Then it was time to cram back into the car for the trip away from the sea, back across the border, to peaceful Mbabane.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Sawubona, Swaziland!
Hello--"Sawubona"--from Mbabane, Swaziland, my new home for the next six months! I have been here exactly one week as of today, and am decidedly in that time warp period where it feels like I have been here for months and then again like I only arrived a few hours ago.
After leaving Washington, DC, last Tuesday, I managed a 12-hour layover in London, raced into the city and saw my brother and sister-in-law, a high school friend, and a couple of friends from travels in Vietnam and Brazil, then hightailed it back out to Heathrow Airport to catch my second overnight flight to Johannesburg. From Johannesburg I had one final wisp of a flight--45 minutes in a tiny plane--to reach Matsapha International Airport, which has only one gate and ten flights per day. A coworker came to pick me up from the airport and drove me from the town of Manzini to the capital, Mbabane, (pronounced "Buh-baah-neh") and to our office for a bit (pretty standard but with a great view of rocky green hills surrounding the city. Then my manager whisked me off on a mini-driving tour of Mbabane surroundings and I saw my one potential apartment, by which (going in with some useful "lo" expectations of course) I was very happily surprised.
I have rarely been so decisive, but I think it also helped that I was eager to stop lugging my enormous, heavy suitcase around as soon as possible. But I really love the place: a very clean, bright one bedroom attached to the back of the large house of a local judge, on a property that includes geese, ducks, chickens (delicious organic eggs), a stream and a small swimming pool. Not bad. It is cold here (I mean it, I didn't fully believe my coworkers either, but Africa does get cold), and the heating has not wowed me, but I have 4 TV channels (often playing American movies) and delightful internet that's allowing me to post this, so I'm a happy girl. I'll leave the rest up to the pictures:
After leaving Washington, DC, last Tuesday, I managed a 12-hour layover in London, raced into the city and saw my brother and sister-in-law, a high school friend, and a couple of friends from travels in Vietnam and Brazil, then hightailed it back out to Heathrow Airport to catch my second overnight flight to Johannesburg. From Johannesburg I had one final wisp of a flight--45 minutes in a tiny plane--to reach Matsapha International Airport, which has only one gate and ten flights per day. A coworker came to pick me up from the airport and drove me from the town of Manzini to the capital, Mbabane, (pronounced "Buh-baah-neh") and to our office for a bit (pretty standard but with a great view of rocky green hills surrounding the city. Then my manager whisked me off on a mini-driving tour of Mbabane surroundings and I saw my one potential apartment, by which (going in with some useful "lo" expectations of course) I was very happily surprised.
I have rarely been so decisive, but I think it also helped that I was eager to stop lugging my enormous, heavy suitcase around as soon as possible. But I really love the place: a very clean, bright one bedroom attached to the back of the large house of a local judge, on a property that includes geese, ducks, chickens (delicious organic eggs), a stream and a small swimming pool. Not bad. It is cold here (I mean it, I didn't fully believe my coworkers either, but Africa does get cold), and the heating has not wowed me, but I have 4 TV channels (often playing American movies) and delightful internet that's allowing me to post this, so I'm a happy girl. I'll leave the rest up to the pictures:
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