as i watched today's bbc coverage of the 5 british soldiers killed in combat in afghanistan in as many days, i had trouble with the images of the 5 coffins draped in the union jack being unloaded from a plane.
i don't know if i think things happen for a reason. on most days, i would say no. but these days, i tend to agree with the soldier when he thinks they do.
he left the army in early 2008 and has a few more months to go before he is a civilian. and he just found out that his regiment will be deployed to afghanistan shortly after he is out.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
weather karma
i was having a thought on my run today. i was running on the road because i get these shin splint-type pains if i run on hard surfaces like sidewalks and i was noticing how wide the roads are here, but how drivers are still noticeably nervous when i am running on their turf.
this brought me around to some other thoughts i have been having lately - that our culture is so afraid of so many things happening. or, possibly, that companies, corporations, or any type of authority does not want to be held responsible for anything and then push safety and security down our throats. thank you, litigation.
so we wear helmets, reflective running jackets, and now we can't eat tomatoes. it just seems a bit obsessive. perhaps i feel this way because i have been living in a place where the options are a) go for a run on the road and risk getting hit by one of the cars that regularly speed by you on narrow roads, potentially rabid dog bites, or twisting an ankle on uneven surfaces or b) stay at home. staying at home gets old after a few weeks.
not that i do not think that any of these precautions are bad ideas. bike helmets keep your skull intact, reflective jackets allow you to have a less worrisome run, and salmonella is no fun (although the chances of dying from salmonella are low and it seems a bit alarmist to pull my favourite vegetable off the shelves after a sort of warning that they might be responsible for a salmonella 'outbreak').
in a way, this is linked to the craze about 'going green' and again, i believe some of the principles behind it, but i struggle with the idea that eating organic is 'going green.' actually, i downright disagree. growing things organically is not better for our environment, but i will save that for another post.
during these running thoughts when i was thinking, 'calgary, what a city of wimps!' it began to pour rain and i was thinking, 'i love running in the rain.' and then it hailed on me. and hail hurts! like lots of tiny bee stings all over your exposed skin, including the sensitive skin of the neck, ouch! i think that is what you call weather karma.
and i hope that weather karma does not rear its ugly head on me next time i try to be healthy, active, and non-wimpy.
this brought me around to some other thoughts i have been having lately - that our culture is so afraid of so many things happening. or, possibly, that companies, corporations, or any type of authority does not want to be held responsible for anything and then push safety and security down our throats. thank you, litigation.
so we wear helmets, reflective running jackets, and now we can't eat tomatoes. it just seems a bit obsessive. perhaps i feel this way because i have been living in a place where the options are a) go for a run on the road and risk getting hit by one of the cars that regularly speed by you on narrow roads, potentially rabid dog bites, or twisting an ankle on uneven surfaces or b) stay at home. staying at home gets old after a few weeks.
not that i do not think that any of these precautions are bad ideas. bike helmets keep your skull intact, reflective jackets allow you to have a less worrisome run, and salmonella is no fun (although the chances of dying from salmonella are low and it seems a bit alarmist to pull my favourite vegetable off the shelves after a sort of warning that they might be responsible for a salmonella 'outbreak').
in a way, this is linked to the craze about 'going green' and again, i believe some of the principles behind it, but i struggle with the idea that eating organic is 'going green.' actually, i downright disagree. growing things organically is not better for our environment, but i will save that for another post.
during these running thoughts when i was thinking, 'calgary, what a city of wimps!' it began to pour rain and i was thinking, 'i love running in the rain.' and then it hailed on me. and hail hurts! like lots of tiny bee stings all over your exposed skin, including the sensitive skin of the neck, ouch! i think that is what you call weather karma.
and i hope that weather karma does not rear its ugly head on me next time i try to be healthy, active, and non-wimpy.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
simple development wisdom
'you can't donate people out of poverty.'
and that is, pretty much, why foreign aid won't work. sorry fans of the .7% gdp to foreign aid (of which i used to be), i just don't think it will work. it may have paid my salary and pay my salary again in the future. but i no longer have faith it will work.
thanks, paul polak and the hour with george stroumboulopoulos.
update, schmupdate
i have been home nearly 2 weeks and have been relaxing and dealing with allergies. i haven't felt compelled to update so i will give you a recap that will probably not be very exciting to read, but will make me feel less guilty when i check my blogomatic and bore myself with my own lack of news.
i am sad that the hockey night in canada theme song is going to go to tsn/ctv now. it goes hand-in-hand with the cbc and cherry's antics for me. but what was cbc thinking? i am pretty sure they can afford the $500 per play.
that wasn't much of an update. i will try again.
the soldier and i have a flat to move into in germany, which is rather exciting and makes things feel more 'real' even though i keep getting ahead of myself by thinking about the autumn and future jobs, houses, and life back in calgary.
but yay for a new nest! i wonder how you say 'nest' in german?
back to those allergies - they are kicking me in the ass. i am not sure if it is allergies or a cold, but i am sleeping way too much, i wake up with headaches, and my eyes are itchy far too often. blech.
i have eaten more red meat in the past few days than in the past 6 months, but i have come to expect (and anticipate) that. i loves me some alberta beef. i also love red wine and my mom's red wine dispenser (otherwise known as a box of wine conveniently placed so you simply place your glass under the spout and voila!).
it seems when you leave your job, people seem to think you are rather valuable, but i guess that happens anywhere in any field. or so i am told. but no bother, i like the compliments and the requests for my cv.
speaking of my cv, i met with a recruiter and i am feeling positive (for once!) about my career. nothing concrete, just a good meeting full of good ideas.
ordering at starbucks is STRESSFUL. here is what i want - a latte, the medium size, with skim milk, and maybe, just maybe, a fancy flavour shot or a fancy drink like a caramel macchiato (but not very sweet and none of the no-sugar syrup). but you need to be able to say that in the fancy coffee shop lingo in a matter of seconds. who can do that?! well, probably you. but i am used to putting in my order at nairobi java house and just crossing my fingers that they get it right and enjoying whatever shows up on the counter. often, to get the drink how you want it, it takes a short diatribe and a few baseball hand signals, but i am little out of the loop.
the mass consumption and marketing in this place is also stressful. not to mention the serious leaps in technology that make me feel like an 80 year old (maybe even 90 year old) who has lived in a home for entire technology revolution. in saskatchewan (ok, maybe a stereotype, but i would imagine that if you lived in a home in saskatchewan, it might be even less technologically current).
i am learning a lot about wedding dresses and weddings. i am glad i get to be a spectator at this one (well, an active chief bridesmaid spectator) so i can learn the ropes.
other than that, adjusting is and will be tough, i miss parts of life in africa, but i am excited for a lot of upcoming things and nothing beats that.
i am sad that the hockey night in canada theme song is going to go to tsn/ctv now. it goes hand-in-hand with the cbc and cherry's antics for me. but what was cbc thinking? i am pretty sure they can afford the $500 per play.
that wasn't much of an update. i will try again.
the soldier and i have a flat to move into in germany, which is rather exciting and makes things feel more 'real' even though i keep getting ahead of myself by thinking about the autumn and future jobs, houses, and life back in calgary.
but yay for a new nest! i wonder how you say 'nest' in german?
back to those allergies - they are kicking me in the ass. i am not sure if it is allergies or a cold, but i am sleeping way too much, i wake up with headaches, and my eyes are itchy far too often. blech.
i have eaten more red meat in the past few days than in the past 6 months, but i have come to expect (and anticipate) that. i loves me some alberta beef. i also love red wine and my mom's red wine dispenser (otherwise known as a box of wine conveniently placed so you simply place your glass under the spout and voila!).
it seems when you leave your job, people seem to think you are rather valuable, but i guess that happens anywhere in any field. or so i am told. but no bother, i like the compliments and the requests for my cv.
speaking of my cv, i met with a recruiter and i am feeling positive (for once!) about my career. nothing concrete, just a good meeting full of good ideas.
ordering at starbucks is STRESSFUL. here is what i want - a latte, the medium size, with skim milk, and maybe, just maybe, a fancy flavour shot or a fancy drink like a caramel macchiato (but not very sweet and none of the no-sugar syrup). but you need to be able to say that in the fancy coffee shop lingo in a matter of seconds. who can do that?! well, probably you. but i am used to putting in my order at nairobi java house and just crossing my fingers that they get it right and enjoying whatever shows up on the counter. often, to get the drink how you want it, it takes a short diatribe and a few baseball hand signals, but i am little out of the loop.
the mass consumption and marketing in this place is also stressful. not to mention the serious leaps in technology that make me feel like an 80 year old (maybe even 90 year old) who has lived in a home for entire technology revolution. in saskatchewan (ok, maybe a stereotype, but i would imagine that if you lived in a home in saskatchewan, it might be even less technologically current).
i am learning a lot about wedding dresses and weddings. i am glad i get to be a spectator at this one (well, an active chief bridesmaid spectator) so i can learn the ropes.
other than that, adjusting is and will be tough, i miss parts of life in africa, but i am excited for a lot of upcoming things and nothing beats that.
Monday, June 02, 2008
stuff you notice
- canadians really are friendly, including the customs guys who i thought were going to take away my harrods duty free or charge me tax on the items i had shipped, but no, they were very friendly - tattoos, scary black gloves and all. the passport office staff earn an honourable mention for their friendliness and for bending the rules for my 'unique situation.'
- the driving skills around these parts are sub par compared to those of nairobi. sure, people here know the road rules and tend to obey them, but they follow too closely and need really big lanes because they insist on meandering between lanes, across lanes, and where ever they please. i guess you can forgive them considering they aren't used to roads filled with hazards such as potholes that will swallow you, potential carjackers, and laneless roads. sounds chaotic, but drivers are much better at manouvering their vehicles around deathtraps and/or traffic in kenya. (following road rules is another thing completely and canada wins that one)
- mobile phone companies in canada are stupid and i wish they would get with the european and african times with sim cards and innovation
- all the choice is overwhelming
- a rainy day in calgary is better than a rainy day in nairobi
- so much tv to watch, so few hours in a day
- calgary has a distinct smell and you notice it when you land in the airport, it is nice. clean. dry.
- i keep forgetting that cold water runs out of the tap and man, is it cold. but the hot water is delicious, simply delicious.
- blueberries are still my favourite berry
- we keep leaving our front door open when we go out. i guess the stereotype is true. and it is so nice that we can do that (not that we do all the time, but having options is nice)
- hockey and snow in june? oh yeah.
adjusting back to north american life is going to have its challenges and this visit home has been the first time that i have been worried about them, but i suppose since it is on the horizon, worry is warranted.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
a great way to pass time at heathrow (or anywhere you find yourself)
stuff white people like
i especially like #99 - and i have taken a stand on the serial comma gramar rule and i love the serial comma!
i especially like #99 - and i have taken a stand on the serial comma gramar rule and i love the serial comma!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
i'm on my way
today is my last day in nairobi and my last day at work and i am remembering that i really do hate good-byes. and not for the reasons that most people do. i just hate that they are so drawn out and people insist that they 'have to see you' before you go (and you have been here for nearly 2 years, for the love of god!) and everyone says 'but, why?' in this most annoying voice. yes, i live in kenya, but i am not from kenya. i do have a home, people!
but i have scheduled pick up at 7:30pm, have checked in online (hello window seat and sweet dreams all the way to london!), and have managed to get my runny nose under control so i do not infect all those around me with a nasty aeroplane bug. ew.
and hello, also, to heathrow terminal 3 and its delights. terminal 3 is my favourite of the terminals and perhaps i will replace my tried and tested birkenstocks (i am such a hippy who is in drastic need of a fashion overhaul, but hello also to europe this summer!) with something more fashionable.
i love travelling. i hate saying good bye. and i am more than a little excited to go home and see my fam (and my one-eyed dog) (oh, and my fluffy cat) (and all other north american novelties, which i could least at length but will save that for later).
yay.
but i have scheduled pick up at 7:30pm, have checked in online (hello window seat and sweet dreams all the way to london!), and have managed to get my runny nose under control so i do not infect all those around me with a nasty aeroplane bug. ew.
and hello, also, to heathrow terminal 3 and its delights. terminal 3 is my favourite of the terminals and perhaps i will replace my tried and tested birkenstocks (i am such a hippy who is in drastic need of a fashion overhaul, but hello also to europe this summer!) with something more fashionable.
i love travelling. i hate saying good bye. and i am more than a little excited to go home and see my fam (and my one-eyed dog) (oh, and my fluffy cat) (and all other north american novelties, which i could least at length but will save that for later).
yay.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
1 year
sometimes you meet people who are completely different than you, who are from a different place, a different culture, and have a very different perspective of the world. sometimes, you surprise yourself and everyone around you by welcoming such a person into your life and soon find that it was one of the easiest decisions you ever made.
one year ago today, i met a soldier who had arrived in kenya that very morning. and i don’t think either of us realised how one chance meeting and a peacock would affect our lives. between us we have been to 8 countries, lived 9 times zones apart, and spent a near fortune on text messages and long distance phone calls.
and now, 12 months later, i have 3 days in kenya, followed by 3 weeks in calgary before spending 3 months not only in the same time zone, not only in the same country, but in the very same flat with one of the most kind, generous people i have ever met.
and i can’t think of a better way to start our second year together.
a very happy one year wish to you. it will surely be the first of many.
xoxo
one year ago today, i met a soldier who had arrived in kenya that very morning. and i don’t think either of us realised how one chance meeting and a peacock would affect our lives. between us we have been to 8 countries, lived 9 times zones apart, and spent a near fortune on text messages and long distance phone calls.
and now, 12 months later, i have 3 days in kenya, followed by 3 weeks in calgary before spending 3 months not only in the same time zone, not only in the same country, but in the very same flat with one of the most kind, generous people i have ever met.
and i can’t think of a better way to start our second year together.
a very happy one year wish to you. it will surely be the first of many.
xoxo
Monday, May 19, 2008
finding my spot
(may 16, 2008)
my little (big) brother does this thing when he is going to bed and he has done it as long as any of us can remember – he wiggles and fidgets and flops around until he finds ‘his spot’ before he can get to sleep. i guess it is something about finding that place in your bed where the sheets, duvet, and pillows align for the perfect combination of fluffliness, firmness, coziness, warmth, and coolness.
i think i am doing the same thing right now, but in a more metaphorical way. i am not the most confident person at the best of times in terms of what i have achieved and accomplished academically or professionally but lately i feel like perhaps i am still trying to find ‘my spot.’
i am good at a lot of things, but not great at any one thing and i think that i want to be. i want to be so passionate about something that i excel at it and become known for my knowledge and experience in that one area. maybe because the reality is hitting me that i am leaving my job and this field for the time being, but if i were to stay, i would join the ranks of people in the world who know a lot about human trafficking. there are not that many people who can be considered ‘experts’* on the topic and in some circles, i am considered just that. but a few more years of experience and exposure, i would probably feel confident that i am gathering expertise.**
but do i feel so strongly about it that i can continue to commit my career to it? i am not so sure. but are people who are really good at certain things really in love with those topics? i sort of doubt it. but i still like to think so.
i have a few ideas of what i could be that passionate about and i plan on exploring them in the near future. i just hope that i can find something, stick to it, and love what i do.
until then, i will continue wiggling, fidgeting, and flopping until i find my spot, however long it takes.
*although i hate that word and think it is thrown around at whim around here
**another word i hate
my little (big) brother does this thing when he is going to bed and he has done it as long as any of us can remember – he wiggles and fidgets and flops around until he finds ‘his spot’ before he can get to sleep. i guess it is something about finding that place in your bed where the sheets, duvet, and pillows align for the perfect combination of fluffliness, firmness, coziness, warmth, and coolness.
i think i am doing the same thing right now, but in a more metaphorical way. i am not the most confident person at the best of times in terms of what i have achieved and accomplished academically or professionally but lately i feel like perhaps i am still trying to find ‘my spot.’
i am good at a lot of things, but not great at any one thing and i think that i want to be. i want to be so passionate about something that i excel at it and become known for my knowledge and experience in that one area. maybe because the reality is hitting me that i am leaving my job and this field for the time being, but if i were to stay, i would join the ranks of people in the world who know a lot about human trafficking. there are not that many people who can be considered ‘experts’* on the topic and in some circles, i am considered just that. but a few more years of experience and exposure, i would probably feel confident that i am gathering expertise.**
but do i feel so strongly about it that i can continue to commit my career to it? i am not so sure. but are people who are really good at certain things really in love with those topics? i sort of doubt it. but i still like to think so.
i have a few ideas of what i could be that passionate about and i plan on exploring them in the near future. i just hope that i can find something, stick to it, and love what i do.
until then, i will continue wiggling, fidgeting, and flopping until i find my spot, however long it takes.
*although i hate that word and think it is thrown around at whim around here
**another word i hate
just another night in the ‘robes
(may 16, 2008)
i am sitting in my pyjamas and having a glass of wine after having set my pan on fire during the melting of the butter and heating of the vodka in the preparation of vodka pasta. like any normal person would, i tried to blow it out (fyi – NOT a good idea) then carefully turned the burner off and gently placed the pan back down on the stove and just waited for the fire to burnt itself out while i calmly wondered, ‘is is soda or powder that goes on a grease fire?’
instead of chancing it, i figured i would just watch and ‘monitor’ the fire. during my vigilant monitoring, i debated putting the pan on the stoop so that it was less likely to ignite my kitchen, but instead just called my flatmate, who was equally clueless on what exactly we should do. so we watched it burn together. and then she said, just like a 14 year old boy would, ‘wow, that was cool.’ and i replied, ‘i know, science, eh.’ and that is a true story.
the vodka pasta was nice (although i have made better batches, i think the secret lies in the cream) and i am now patiently awaiting the arrival of my taxi driver, who i hope will buy my cooker. and agree to come and visit me in canada one day. because without him, my stay in nairobi would not have been as rich of an experience and i am quite sad to think that i might not see him again.
he and i have been plant shopping together, had impromptu kiswahili lessons while passing time, he has picked me up at the airport after returning from journeys both long and short. he even picked my family up at the airport last year with a name sign that i am sure was spelled wrong and chauffeured us around town, even joining us at the baby elephants, which i think he enjoyed just as much as we did.
this guy has given me the low down on all the carjackings, robberies, and other neighbourhood happenings and he has also been a partner in a great many political discussions and we tried to solve the problems of kenya in the post election violence while navigating the streets of nairobi. he has rented me cars, given me free rides on my birthday or when he was exceptionally late, and he has given me the ok to marry my boyfriend who he thinks is a ‘good guy’ and is convinced i will return when i have babies in my arms.
actually, he was there the night we first met and picked up and delivered my keys when i got home and realised that i had left them with a friend at the bar. he has picked up important documents and take away food, helped me figure out how the central investigative division of the kenya police works, and will hopefully buy my cooker and fridge.
he reckons he will save his shillings and visit his friends in canada and australia (or austria, we never could figure out where his friend lives) and i do not doubt it. i am convinced the man sits on a vault of money. i just hope i can be as good of a driver and friend as he has been to me.
i am sitting in my pyjamas and having a glass of wine after having set my pan on fire during the melting of the butter and heating of the vodka in the preparation of vodka pasta. like any normal person would, i tried to blow it out (fyi – NOT a good idea) then carefully turned the burner off and gently placed the pan back down on the stove and just waited for the fire to burnt itself out while i calmly wondered, ‘is is soda or powder that goes on a grease fire?’
instead of chancing it, i figured i would just watch and ‘monitor’ the fire. during my vigilant monitoring, i debated putting the pan on the stoop so that it was less likely to ignite my kitchen, but instead just called my flatmate, who was equally clueless on what exactly we should do. so we watched it burn together. and then she said, just like a 14 year old boy would, ‘wow, that was cool.’ and i replied, ‘i know, science, eh.’ and that is a true story.
the vodka pasta was nice (although i have made better batches, i think the secret lies in the cream) and i am now patiently awaiting the arrival of my taxi driver, who i hope will buy my cooker. and agree to come and visit me in canada one day. because without him, my stay in nairobi would not have been as rich of an experience and i am quite sad to think that i might not see him again.
he and i have been plant shopping together, had impromptu kiswahili lessons while passing time, he has picked me up at the airport after returning from journeys both long and short. he even picked my family up at the airport last year with a name sign that i am sure was spelled wrong and chauffeured us around town, even joining us at the baby elephants, which i think he enjoyed just as much as we did.
this guy has given me the low down on all the carjackings, robberies, and other neighbourhood happenings and he has also been a partner in a great many political discussions and we tried to solve the problems of kenya in the post election violence while navigating the streets of nairobi. he has rented me cars, given me free rides on my birthday or when he was exceptionally late, and he has given me the ok to marry my boyfriend who he thinks is a ‘good guy’ and is convinced i will return when i have babies in my arms.
actually, he was there the night we first met and picked up and delivered my keys when i got home and realised that i had left them with a friend at the bar. he has picked up important documents and take away food, helped me figure out how the central investigative division of the kenya police works, and will hopefully buy my cooker and fridge.
he reckons he will save his shillings and visit his friends in canada and australia (or austria, we never could figure out where his friend lives) and i do not doubt it. i am convinced the man sits on a vault of money. i just hope i can be as good of a driver and friend as he has been to me.
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