Riding a New Wave

My first experience with couchsurfing involved neither my own couch nor my own surfer. I was staying with a friend in DC, crashing on her couch. She went to work, casually saying, "oh, and if a french guy with a backpack comes. Let him in. He's my couchsurfer." Ummmmm...Whatever I thought and watched yesterday's rerun of the daily show. Sometime later that afternoon Juls shows up. He is French and does have a backpack. Washington DC is his first stop on a 5 week cross country train trip. Lauren's other roommates showed up and decided that every frenchman needs to eat proper southern barbeque with hot sauce until your eyes water. So we all piled into cars and went to Rockland. At Rocklands Juls tried chili potato salad, briskit, and the ubiqitous rice crispies treat. Fine dining to be sure.

I was hooked on the idea of couchsurfing. There is something great about someplace where someone, especially a stranger, is waiting for you. There is a undeniably a level of sketch to it. Strange people connect with you over the internet (Music from the twilight zone plays onminously in the background), and they stay in you house/apartment/cardboard box under the interstate overpass. Explaining the security was a big selling point to my mother, who graciously agreed to let me host travelers this summer (yay for mommys). Mostly its on you to read profiles carefully and question references. But I've been a member since the middle of June, and I have hosted about 12 people and shown 4 or 5 others around Nairobi.

In terms of being a host, there really is no better place than Nairobi. It is everyone's transit point and nobody's destination. This basically means I never have to worry about the length of time people will stay with me. Everyone is always too excited about safaris and trips to the coast to bother too much with Nairobi. This is also good because most of worth seeing in Nairobi as a tourist can be done in a day and a half. (Nairobi is a great place to live, and a good place to visit if you have access to a car.) It is doubly good for hosting because the kind of people who spend their holidays in Africa are kind of by defintion people that I would want to know. If they aren't safari trekkers, they go off and volunteer in parts of kney I've never heard of.

Everyone that I've hosted has been phenomenal. Many of them brought me little gifts (not required) and left proper thank you notes. They've cooked me dinner and done dishes. They are neater and more polite than I am. They've taught me about everything from demographics in Scandanavia and its impact on education policy to the going rate for medical experiments in Argus. (I also learned that Canada grows wine. Who knew?) It can still seem a little bit creepy, but hospitality is a trait to be nurtured. I fully plan on surfing couches during my peace corps travels, and I only hope that I can be as good a guest as mine have been.

I encourage everyone to check it out: couchsurfing.com

WTF South Africa?!?!?!?!

I love South Africa. I spent a blissful year in Cape Town studying and experiencing a part of Africa that seemed to get it. There was rule of law, nonviolent protests, and an energized economy. This is not to say I was blind to the flaws. There was rampant poverty and incredible wealth next to incredible poverty. A friend in Cape Town said it was a microcosm of the world where the first and the third world mix. (I refrained from telling him that it didn't really matter if the capitalists and nonaligned mixed anymore, but his point was well made.)

For the past few weeks, though, it seems that South Africa has gone slightly round the bend. Mbeki fired his deputy Minister of Health ostensibly because she went to an AIDS conference in Madrid. Hallelujah for that...a health minister from South Africa doing something about AIDS, besides of course curing it with beetroot and garlic. I'm sure there were more particulars kept out off the media, but its ridiculous. The current Minster, manto tshabalala-msimang is a crackpot nutcase, and possibly an alcoholic who got a new liver thanks to presidential connections. (http://www.guardian.co.uk/southafrica/story/0,,2152333,00.html). Currently 5.5 million people in south africa have HIV/AIDS, life expectancy is 47, and less than 1/3 of the people who need treatment can access it thanks to the Comrade Coffin (Mbeki) and Dr. Beetroot (Tshabalala-Msimang). South Africa only started providing ARVs after being taken to court by the Treatment Action Campaign.

The Deputy minister who was fired for her unauthorized trip to Spain recognized there was, in fact, an epidemic and responded. Her 5 year plan for HIV/AIDS is quite brilliant and focuses on getting treatment. With her gone, its back to the quagmire of AIDS denialists, no drugs, and raising death rates.

Adding insult to injury (but with a silver lining), Jacob Zuma is back in court. Hopefully this time the charges will stick. Zuma was accused of raping a family friend. Ultimately he was found not guilty, but not until he explained that he consensual sex with an HIV+ woman but was safe because he took a shower. Zuma is a presidential hopeful in the highest levels of the ANC. Now he and his lawyer are trying to avoide facing corruption charges in relation to an arms deal with French Arms manufacter Thist.

And for the grand finale, several million of the government distributed condoms are being recalled. A health inspector was bribed to approve substandard condoms for distribution. I want to smack that guy. How much money is it worth for millions of people to get infected with an incurable disease that will leave 10 million orphans, kill 14 teachers a week, and basically destroy the social fabric of your country?

Score One For The Tree Huggers and Non-Insecticide-Treated Bed Nets

As a health consultant, particularly one focused on simple and effective preventative health measures, I have the deepest and most profound respect for mosquito nets. They are the primary reason that I have never had malaria despite more than 8 years in rabidly endemic areas. Insectide treated nets are seemingly a pancea. They give pregant women and children under five the best chance for good health. And they are an incredibly marketable commodity. Check out more at WHO.

Although bed nets are altogether fantastic, mozzie nets have a new role in the Kramer/Loughran household. Kenya is joining the ranks of countries that have banned or will soon ban plastic bags. In Kenya sometime in December or January, using plastic bags will be illegal, and good for them. The ubiquitous plastic bag is a blight practically everywhere you go. They litter sidewalks and trash heaps across africa. Kenyans make thses fantastic, durable, and beautiful woven baskets out of grasses and sisal. They are way more economical and fashionable. We use reusable bags for most of our shopping. The main exception, however, was the green grocer. The shop attendants put the veggies into their individual plastic bags to make it easier to weigh them before putting them in our eco-friendly baskets. In response, my mom commissioned re-usable mesh bags out of mosquito netting. Yesterday was their first test run and they were an unmitigated success!

"Intergenerational Sex Stops With You" and other life lessons from Uganda

It seems strange that after 9 or so years in East Africa this was the first trip ever to Uganda. I largely went for work related reasons. The WORTH program has some savings groups in Mbale, Uganda and that was my first destination. Henry, the Salvation Army driver, collected me from the airport and drove me the three hours to Mbale proper. I had the beginings of what would become a raging head cold, so i was not the best company one could imagine. Henry didn't seem to mind, though.

Once in Mbale, I was introduced to Meddi and Dorothy, who are the assistant WORTH coordinators for Uganda. They are both the most amazing and creative women. great fun was had, minus my fever, head ache, and stuffy nose. I checked into the sunrise hotel at with a fantastic view of Mt. Elgon and promptly slept through the night.

Thursday morning saw my first site visits. These women mean business. Its amazing watching 25 women bring what amounts to pennies to their meetings and watch them accumulate. I was also audience to the generosity and hospitality of Ugandans. Getting visitors, particularly of the mzungu variety, was special for them. The women were delighted to read drafts of my dialogues and give me input, although I think there were a bit taken back by my desire for their input. I need to practice my pre-tests. Malaria for children and STI for women are the big concerns in these areas. We stayed with the first group for several hours and then heading further up the mountain ridges for the second. Again, the women saved together, made some loans, and told me how exciting it will be when the loan cycle ends. At the end, the women divide up the interest paid on the loans as 'dividends.' The chairwoman at this particular group refers to herself as the Bank Director because she says thats what she's doing. It had rained during the meeting, and our truck was stuck in the mud. They wouldn't let me help push and eventually the car got going. Mud driving is not my favorite activity.

Friday morning I went to one savings group and then I drove back to Kampala, where i was meeting up with my study abroad roommate. She is working for an NGO in Kampala for a year, and when far away friends find their way to not so far away places, its best to track them down. We were supposed to go out to dinner, but that was rudely interrupted by a purse snatcher, who grabbed my bag. I lost all my money, my cell phone, and my passport. Part of it is on me for being absent minded and forgetting that the passport was in there, but mostly it was on bastards who steal other peoples property.

Thus began my stay in Kampala. After the robbery, we went to the Jinja Road police station where I had to make a statement. The first officer taking my statement had terrible handwriting and a slightly lacking grasp of English. He spelled my name Katherhain Krachmher and said i was 42 years old. He also said I lost my UK passport. it improved when they were taking my statement, probably because my blond host attracted the eye of the officer in charge of the station. After all this went on, we were trying to get out of the jinja road police station, which was harder than we thought it would be. Eventually, the officer in charge told us some transport was coming. Shortly thereafter, a chinese man drove up in an electric blue beetle, followed by another chinese man in a pick up truck. Thus our ride had arrived. Ten minutes of chinese pop music and stilted conversation later, we arrived at the house and i went to bed.

Saturday morning began the round of chores that needed to be done in order to get my life together enough to leave. I had to get an official report from the Jinja road station. The consulate was closed until monday, so i had to change my flight out of Uganda as well. I also went and got several US Visa sized photos taken. Then we went and got touristy. We took boda bodas (small motorcycle/scooter taxis) to the Buganda tombs. Its the worlds largest thatched hut and a world heritage site, and then we went to the craft markets. Craft markets in africa are suprisingly homogenious. Most of what was in Kampala could be bought in nairobi for around the same price. We had lunch at an indian restaurant nearby and ran into two other ex pats. they were in town for the release of the ugandan demographic and health survey. it is like my bible. We had a lazy, lazy lunch that stretched for hours. I learned from them that 84% of ugandan women thought that wife beating was acceptable, and that a journalist at a workshop thought that deserved the headline "Women Like to be Beaten." I think he missed the point. Health and such in Uganda is a seemingly big thing. it pioneered ABC, but people say now that low prevelance rates have more to do with fewer people being tested. There are also adds all over the place warning against sugar daddies and IG sex. The radio spots are great if you are ever in the region. the day ended with a run to the internet cafe that was quickly aborted because the internet is lazy and slow and bootlegged DVDs.

Sunday was brunch at the serena, expensive but well worth it considering I didn't need to eat for two days following. We lazed around by the pool at the serena, gawked at the security measures, and watched the Aga Khan fly in on helicopters. Monday I went to the consulate and basically want to thank god and my parents that i am an american citizen. I was placed at the head of the cues and was generally hustled though the whole process. I got a brand new (temporary) passport in less than 30 minutes and was free to leave the country, which I did at 8 pm that night, following some eating, some television, and the 45 minute drive from Kampala to Entebbe. All in all, I am delighted to be home.

Trachoma, Masaailand, Company Towns, and Technical Difficulties

This trip actually happened a while ago, but I just got the photos today. Magadi is a region of kenya known mostly for its alkaline soda lake (Lake Magadi which was featured in The Constant Gardener as Lake Turkana). I went out for work to visit some AMREF self-help groups in the Masaailand of Magadi. It was quite cool. They have a great community health component which focuses on the control, treatment, and eradication of trachoma in the area. trachoma is passed through flies and contaminated water. AMREF supports the women by training them as community health workers, teaching them to build VIP latrines, and changing water behavior uses. Visiting the groups was probably the best part of the day.

Then we toddled off to the town of Magadi. Magadi has one industry of note, a soda bottle factory. They use some of the salts from Lake Magadi in the processing. Magadi town is entirely owned by the Soda Factory. it has a very odd west virginia coal mining vibe. I kept hearing "15 tons and what do you get, another day older and deeper in debt" as we wandered around looking for food and water. It was sort of strange to see old masaai mzees sitting by a heated swimming pool.

Our last site invovled a 2.5 hour drive through hell to the more inhabited part of magadi. In the foothill of the mountains there is lots of water (not so in the rest of magadi which is unbearable dry and dusty), and there is a very nice clinic nestled up there. Although the clinic was very nice and a very good place to go if you ever find yourself ill in Magadi, it was not quite worth the bumps, dust, and bruises sustained on the drive out there. The roads were made worse by the repair work. Every 20 feet or so we had to offroad around a culvert repair. it would have been fine had we been warned to take the 4 wheel drive vehicle. We got stuck on the way back. The effort in the image was ultimatly unsuccessful. We dug out the tires with our bare hands, jacked the car up to put rocks under the tires, and eventually escaped. I haven't been that dirty in a long, long time.

Its Hard to Be An Ass on Lamu: The Adventures of Captain Mango, Pineapple, and Kikoy

Nairobi is cold! Damp, gray, drizzling, and cold, so I was beyond delighted when some friends suggested that we run away to Lamu for the weekend. Lamu is a pole pole type island off the kenyan coast. It has 40 some mosques and about 2 cars. Our entire point for being there was to sit in the sun, shop for silver, and eat fish in as many varieties as possible.

We flew down because otherwise its a 9 hour bus to mombasa and another 6 hours to the mainland by lamu. We landed at Manda airport, which is so laid back that its scary. Thatched roofs and a sand runway. its a short walk to the jetty and then a 10 minute ride on a "ferry" or anything that potentially floats with an outboard motor. On our flight, I met Coconut, a fisherman with a dhow. He arranged ferries and took us into the morass of Lamu town to find a cheap hotel for the next few days. Ultimately we stettled on the Archipelago Hotel by the waterfront. Lamu is fantastic for the lack of real pricing. "3500 for 3 people" says the proprieter. We gasp in shock and outrage and the price is lowered a bit. Then the haggling begins. We get the room for 3000, which is a bit more than we wanted to pay, but the sun is setting and there is wandering to be done. To fit in, we dubbed ourselves with Lamu-style nicknames. Captain Mango, Pineapple, and Kikoy were born.

We wandered into and out of sliver smiths (2 rings), tropical boutiques (yet more kiloys and kangas), and cafes (mango-passion juice, and chai tangawezi). Prices were given and negotiated, and compared to the shops of mombassa, everyone was very chill. If you didn't want to buy, you walked out and the proprietor said, "come again." its a refreshing change. we also found our way to the hotel Bahari at the far end of Lamu town. The rooftop verandah was spectacular, the lamu beds were beautiful, and the price was cheaper. We made arrangements to stay there the next night.

Dinner was had at Miraa, a rooftop restaurant with swahili food and swahili prices. Prawn curry and coconut rice was great; less so was the TV blaring an old episode of charmed, so we left shortly after getting food. Then we wandered back via Petley's Landing, for a beer. It is muslim island almost exclusively. So beer, wine, and booze can only be bought from some select locals. Petleys din of inequity was our haunt. We wrapped up the night with the wine we brought from Nairobi and an entertaining game of Kings.

Day two was our adventure with Coconut and his crew. Its a typical tourist adventure, but one definatly worth it. we set sail on the dhow at around 10 and set off for the channels. We were going fishing. I managed to catch a juvenile yellow snapper, which was beautiful, but hardly worth eating. It was fun. Then we were off to the beaches on Manda island for the more sun, sea, and sand. Coconut, et all cooked up a lunch for us. Coconut rice, salad, fruit, and fish cooked in hot coals. It was a basically perfect day. We came back and some more tuskers at petleys. More fish for dinner, and a lazy evening sitting on the roof of the Bahari. We saw scorpio and the leonids star shower.

Day three was our last day. how sad! We wandered and ambled for a bit. Found a man who swore his wife did the best henna on the island. So I got my hands done. I will have the memory of heat and tropics on my hands for the next two weeks. Eventually though, we had to make our way back to Manda airport. Upon arrival we were told that the plane was delayed for an hour. Captain mango and Pineapple changed into swim suits and went off for a swim. I wandered around a bit and read. There is not exactly a whole lot to do on manda island, particularly on that end. Also, I got rabidly sunburned on my shoulders on the dhow trip. So any sun was painful.

Unfortunately the plane was only delayed and not cancelled. We went off at 4:00 and were back in Nairobi at 6. Que barbaridad! Nairobi is slightly warmer than a remember, but that might be the heat that my shoulders are generating. Pictures will be forthcoming!