Final Day

It is our last full day in Garm. There were snippets of blue sky, the sun shone occasionally and we spent the better part of the day in the office - trying not to succumb to the heat or the fumes emanating from the coal/wood stove in the office. Some man seemed to be under strict orders to stoke on schedule despite the windows thrown open in protest and in hopes of obtaining fresh air.

Although I have been staying in the quarters adjacent to Janice's residence, often guests stay at the guesthouse. In fact a number of full-time national staff live there where a cook prepares their meals as well. I have had the same meals delivered to Janice's (everyone pays for the meals). For lunch today I finally visited the guest house and it seems like a very cozy arrangement. After lunch, Amy and I hiked back up the hill in order to gain a sunnier view of the river valley, lower hills and snow-capped peaks.

This evening was packing and helping Janice get organized for her home-leave. She has been very ill lately so besides lending my travel pharmacy, I lent my organizational skills as well.

Adventures in interviewing

After a long wait for the driver to fill up the pre-arranged car with gas (why these things are not done ahead of time is anyone's guess), we had a late start to drive out to the field. We were two translators and two note-takers (me & Amy) in search of the final interviews for Amy's study. I was entrusted with interviewing one of the young mothers who had been a participant and beneficiary in the program. My translator, Manizha and I were led to the chosen woman's home where we were greeted warmly (even though are arrival was essentially last-minute and unannounced) and ushered into their sitting area which was fortunately warm and toast against the drizzly, chilly day. The woman (pictured) is 23, and under the purple cloth, is a baby sleeping in one of their very ornate cradles. I saw similar cradles in Kosovo - and they seem like such a great idea for sleeping infants.

Nineteen people lived in this household which to my eyes structurally consisted of two rooms - so how that works, I have no idea. While the pulled out the stops to provide food and tea for their guests, it was not lost on Manizha and I that what we ate would take away from the little they had. Still, they insisted that we eat, and eat more. Our interview did not go well because the woman was not only shy, but her mother-in-law would not leave the room and frequently interrupted with her own answers. Because young women are at the bottom of the power hierarchy in this culture, there was no way we would get an in-depth answer from this woman about her experience at trainings and her perceptions about how her role and relationships in her family had changed.

We made a second attempt by taking the woman with us back to the village volunteer's house but when we arrived, there were five other women there so again, the young woman was not going to give open answers. Finally they brought another woman in who was slightly older and said she felt comfortable enough - though her body language said otherwise to me. In the end we completed the interview - while Amy and her translator had much more successful interviews with male community and religious leaders.

This evening Amy and I went for a quick and muddy walk up to a hill above the city. At the risk of sounding redundant, it is beautiful here, especially with the changing leaves - though I've been told Spring is the best time when all the hills are a brilliant green.

Rain, Mud and More Mud

After another lovely, leisurely morning spent drinking tea, and eating homemade bread and Tajik honey, our day begin. Janice and I drove out into the surrounding countryside to visit a health worker training being held in one of the villages. It had rained all night, and continued to do so all day. Thus, most of the roads were either muddy, rutted messes or littered with mini-ponds. Our drive was probably twice as long since the driver drove zig-zag down the road to avoid the deepest holes.

At first we thought we were going to have to walk up a long hill but a miscommunication had us going the wrong direction and luckily our destination was nearer than we thought. However, the car was having engine trouble and had to slide back down the hill while we mucked through the mud.

We observed the training for a while - a local doctor had written the curriculum and was training a member from each of several villages about the prevention, signs and treatments for upper respiratory diseases. These communities are far from health care and cut off by winter for several months of the year, so it's important for them know the danger signs of various illness and how to start treating at home before it's too late.

Our car still wasn't working well so we stood in the rain for a while until it was ready to go. On the way home we stopped and searched the river bed for special rocks - something Janice needed to do for an upcoming home leave trip. A long but good, albeit damp day with stunning scenery but it was good to get home where we joined Amy again and caught up on the day.

Lazy Saturday

With the exception of the stomach ache both Amy and I acquired, probably from the village food, Saturday was spent relaxing, doing a bit of work, catching up with life through the internet, and enjoying each other's company. Janice whipped up her famous "wow" pancakes which contain everything except sugar - so we added sauteed apples, honey and maple syrup - and had a very leisurely, and filling brunch.

I caught up on work and email, Amy and one of the staff worked on transcribing interviews from recorded Tajik to written English, and Janice hosted a Tajik trekking friend who brought her, what she described as the "biggest chicken sandwich in the world". It was essentially a whole cooked chicken wrapped in a large flat bread. It was just begging for a photo op, so we obliged (see above).

This evening we were hosted for dinner by some friends of Janice. The husband is in Russia working so we had dinner with the wife, and her adorable three children and their cousins. Amy had brought them the card game Memory and they immediately brought it out for a few rounds. The meal involved tearing up bread into tiny pieces in a large wooden bowl, pouring yogurt over it, sprinkling sliced onions, then pouring boiling oil over all that which sort of thickens the yogurt/bread mixture, and topping it all with herbs and some chopped vegetables. You eat this with your hand or some bread. It's a little greasy (go figure) but rather good.

We were very considerate guests and didn't leave before we had sufficiently riled up the children with picture taking, tickling and playing various paddy-cake, hand-slapping games.

Friday in Garm

I feel so much better today. Maybe it's something in the air, or the water, or the food, or the company, but this trip has taken a decided turn for the better. After a great night's sleep that was only interrupted by waking up to to the electricity (and ceiling light) coming on at 5am, we had a lovely quick breakfast of kasha - aka very thin cream of wheat - with trader joe's maple syrup.

The office is located next door to Janice's house which is convenient for commuting and using the wireless internet at all times of day. After a quick introduction to the office, we loaded up and headed along muddy, red roads to a village called Askalon. The scenery was beautiful. Amy has spent the last month traveling throughout the region with her trusty group of interviewers and drivers to find out how a particular program indirectly benefited women in these remote and very traditional villages. The themes she is seeing is that because the young married women attended these programs on pregnancy, health and breastfeeding, and also received food distributions, they were often able to gain more respect and more openness in their households. Traditionally young brides are seen as very insignificant, controlled by every member of the house, and not allowed to leave the family compound for the first 5-6 years. Their husband and mother-in-law make all the decisions. (photo: Amy in the room where we held the interviews.)

In the home where we were hosted for the interviews, had had a wedding the week before and the hostess brought out plate after plate of sweets, fruit, nuts, breads, and tea and after the interview, they served us lunch. And after all that it made sense to use the "facilities". We had the best loo with a view. A straw lean-to with a view of the river valley and mountains.

This evening Amy, Janice and I made a brief appearance at one of the office staff's going away party. It was an all male gathering, which is extremely typical as women do not meet in public together. And as is also typical, with every toast there is a large swig of vodka of which we were very much encouraged to partake. They do seem to love their vodka. We left early and had a cozy meal back at Janice's house.

Shaken, not stirred with a Pepto garnish: The trip to Garm

Thursday morning, it was early to the plane for the quick, queasy and frightening flight back to Dushanbe. Unfortunately, my two-day stomach ache culminated in a small relapse of my earlier illness. Brandy hosted me for a quick and much welcomed French toast brunch before shuttling me into a waiting car to drive the jarring five hours to Garm. The scenery was beautiful but the roads where hell, often with a cliff to one side, and the ride was made all the worse due to the reason behind why I diligently popped pepto tablets every hour with great success.

I am now in Garm – a mountainous and wet village, and hosted by the program director in her cozy residence. With me is my new twin for the next week Amy. Amy is conducting case studies to evaluate impact of one of the programs. When I learn more, I will give more detail.

Although a home, we are in the guest side which includes a bathroom accessed by going outside. Hopefully my stomach will get better soon because with the electricity only on between 5-9p, it's flashlights and candles at night and that always makes for a fun bathroom journey.

Election Day – for this side of the world

Yesterday morning I awoke at 3am. Call it making up for too much sleep, being alone in the guesthouse for the first time (Sue and Brandy returned to Dushanbe) or thickly veiled excitement over whether Barrack Obama would be elected out new president. In the wee hours of November 5th, it was BBC and me cheering him on.

Later, it was the only other American in the vicinity and me, glued to our lap tops, as Obama’s victory was declared. Skype and facebook messages from around the world showed every American ex-pat or not was celebrating madly in their corner of the globe. And while I couldn’t be there, with the help of BBC and Al Jezeera, I relieved the footage over and over again that night in the guesthouse.

Working weekend

This weekend was spent in true field-trip style - working. Saturday was an all-day meeting with staff which on the plus side meant heat and internet access, and on the down side meant no lunch and long hours.

Sunday Sue and I worked all day on her starting to piece together the evaluation narrative and me piece together tables needed for the umpteen annexes. The sun finally came out today and so I took a morning break to get out and see a bit of the neighborhood. I walked down to square with the closed opera building and stumbled upon the district museum (pictured to the left) and a dilapitated park. The scenary here is something else. I can't decide whether it is beautiful or eerily stark. A river runs through town and right behind the city rises the driest, steepest mountains I've ever seen. From afar, it looks like there isn't a living thing growing on them.

And now, my favorite topic, food. The food here is probably the least enjoyable I've ever had. It is heavy on the meat, and fattiest meat possible. We have eaten out a few times and I think I've had my quota for meat, fat and oil. The bread is not bad (usually in these rounds to the right) and you can purchase a lot of nuts and dried fruit which is always good. It is probably safe to assume that a home cooked meal here would be much better than the restaurants.

So, the topic of food is not complete without the accompanying food-borne illness. Late Sunday night I was awakened and kept awake all night by some creatures within who wanted out, now. And all night with two layers of clothes and two comforters, I shivered. So not only did I still manage to get what Sue had had, I got it worse. All day Monday, I slept and everytime I stood up, was too dizzy to get very far. Dehydrated, headachy and also hungry, Sue and our country director Brandy arrived that evening with crackers and ibuprophen. And I slept some more.

Field trip!

This morning, the consultant Sue and I drove with our driver and translator out to a village 2 hours from Khujand. It was a desolate drive. Pot-holed road with one section washed out by a flood last July, foggy sky and dry, grazing land for miles and miles. Only some sheep herds could be seen. Once we arrived at the village there were more signs of vegetation and life.

We spent the day at the local health clinic where Sue interviewed the health workers, young women, village development counsel and men (old men since most of the young immigrate to Russia for work). She is assessing an MC child survival program. They were the nicest people. The oldest man (81) invited us to his daughter or was it granddaughter (?)'s wedding party but unfortunately we didn't have time. This man had 6 children, 24 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren and he seemed in great health. In a culture where men do not shake hands with women, he immediately came up to Sue and me upon entering and welcomed us with a hand shake. Another woman invited us to spend the night at her house - which would have been an amazing experience.

At the end of the meetings, some of the women brought out a folded up blanket which contained treats and bread from the wedding party including some sheep meet. They also gave us a concoction of beans/tomato/onions/pepper which was very good. However, out of the three of us who ate it, both Sue and the translator got very sick in the night. So far, my stomach seems to be iron-clad...knock on wood.

Long road to Tajikistan

So I'm behind in posting. Turns out that Tajikistan is the most non-technical country I have visited. I can only access the internet at the MC offices. I'll do a bit of catch-up. On Oct. 28th I started the long trek to Tajikistan. With the 12 hour time difference, I didn't arrive until the early morning hours of Oct. 30th. Between those two time points I flew from Chicago to Detroit, to Amsterdam to Istanbul and to Dushanbe, Taj. I had to spend 6 hours in the Istanbul airport and it's not the most lay-over friendly. There are very few seats and even fewer electric outlets. I ended up camping out at a restaurant where the waiter pretty much grunted his disapproval when on my second visit, all I ordered was a coffee and water.

The overnight flight to Tajikstan had me landing at 4am. My coworker had drawn me a map and given me specific instructions on how to efficiently navigate the Dushanbe airport/visa/immigration system. It only took me an hour to do it all. If I had checked luggage, I might still be there. An MC driver picked me up and drove me through the rainy darkness to the guest house - which was the most bizarre place I've ever stayed - the bathroom and kitchen were on the first floor and the bedroom/sitting rooms were on the second floor through a series of ornate wooden doors. The water that came out of the shower alternated between clear and silty but I managed to reasonably clean up before hitting the hay.

I had been instructed to sleep as long as I liked but around 11am a persistent pounding and door bell ringing started at the main gate (all residences are walled and gated). When I finally heard my name being called, I found the office secretary telling me my flight was at 2p so I need to come to the office. A quick lunch and meeting with our country director and I was on the oldest double-prop plane I've ever seen heading to Khujand - which sounds nothing like it's spelled.

The guesthouse apartment in Khujand is very comfortable and "normal" and I'm sharing it with the consultant who is conducting the program final evaluation. We seem to make very good roommates. Dinner that night was with the ex-pat office director. The three of us managed to order dinner though ended up with various successes - mine was more oil than substance.

Finally to bed after a remarkably long day. (The photo is the guesthouse in Khujand - our kitchen window was the middle floor to the right of the stairwell windows).

Last two days...

Okay I lied. Two posts for the weekend. On Sunday, my new friend introduced me to her spa experience. It was pretty amazing to say the least and I splurged. At the same time, I had a pedicure with massage, a hand massage and a "cream bath". For the bath, they wash your hair then slather on some heavy conditioner and massage your head and then your shoulders. It was really something else. However, having it all done at once made it difficult to appreciate each treatment individually. (Photo: TBA).

After such indulgence we headed to the aforementioned mega-mall where my friend wanted to introduce me to the premier movie experience. However, we didn't have enough time and the movie playing wasn't any good - but apparently there is a full leather recliner and a packaged blanket for each movie goer. All for about $10.

Monday (today) I finally had my presentation. Did it go well? I actually don't know. But now it's over with promise of doing more follow up on the project from the US. Tonight I am homeward bound with mixed feelings - it's nice to go home, but it feels too early to leave. It has been a great experience in all ways. Thanks for coming along!

The inner sanctum

It's been a week of work, work, work so I will sum up the weekend in one fell (and hopefully succinct - oh who am I kidding) swoop. Saturday morning, I headed to Pasaraya which is one of the many - and I mean many - shopping malls in the city. Truly this is a city all about shopping malls. I saw one on Sunday (not even the biggest) that reminded me of Mall of America. There are limited green spaces in Jakarta so everyone goes to the mall.

I was on the hunt for one-stop-shopping souvenirs and managed to a find a few among the two floors of handicrafts from around the country. It is a bit overwhelming to say the list that after two hours, I couldn't handle the though of doing any regular shopping for myself. In the afternoon I went over to the neighbor's house - she is also my coworker's next door neighbor and we got to talking Thursday night at a group dinner, where we discovered that she had flown to Bali on the same flight as me. I had seen her at the airport and hadn't recognized her and she hadn't seen me. I think the Jakarta expat world is actually very, very small.

So Saturday we hung out and talked until it was time to go to a pro-Peace Core party being thrown in the "Inner Sanctum" also affectionately known as Wisteria Lane (after Desperate Housewives. In the complex where I have been staying there is the apartment building (where I am), then you go through a gate to the housing complex, and THEN you can go through the big green door into the inner sanctum where anybody who has anything to do with the US embassy lives. (I may have described this before). We went at night and it was rather eerie. It was like a movie set. Very pristine, tree-lined street with no signs or sounds of life except for frogs and crickets. I was told by another party-goer non-inner sanctum liver, that the floor plans of each house are nearly identical which gives it just that extra bit of hmmm.

The sites & sights of Ubud

After a leisurely breakfast including very good black rice porridge with coconut milk and bananas, Dave and Patrick caught a bus to their next destination. It was kind of rainy out, so in lieu of bicycling (and getting really sweaty), Sarah and I hired a driver to take us to the rice terraces. When I had imagined Ubud, I had thought that you would be surrounded by rice paddies and beautiful countryside. Nope, you have to drive to it many kilometers away past lots of tourist art shops. The terraces were pretty enough but as we stood taking in the view with all the other tourists who had likewise hired drivers to take them there, some of the glory of scenery was lost on me.

Back in Ubud, we strolled the streets poking into little clothes and jewelry shops. I ended up with a Balinese style shirt which I half suspect was a demo model but I didn't have time to have anything made, and the seamstress seemed very pleased to sell it too me, so some bartering later, I was the owner. We also made time to eat at a very well known roasted duck restaurant. It was pretty good.

We had just enough time to fit in a little spa treatment before we caught our bus. Sarah was heading to a beach town - which she reported later was really unimpressive - and I was heading to the airport for a luckily very smooth flight home. Though I was borderline tickled and concerned when the flight attendant finished her safety briefing with "And let us all pray to god for a safe flight". Hmmm, always a good idea, however...

All around Ubud in a day

We didn't really have an itinerary once we were in Ubud. But what I did know was we were meeting a friend of mine from Portland who very coincidentally was in Ubud with his 13 year old nephew for exactly the same weekend as us. We had arranged to stay at the same guesthouse so Saturday morning it was great to see a familiar face.



First on the list was to visit the Monkey Temple in the Monkey Forest - a Hindu site that is home to, go figure, a community of monkeys. I am not a fan of monkeys and like other monkeys I've met, these were rather aggressive and weren't above jumping on people who walked too close and grabbing food out of people's hands - as happened to a Japanese tourist who unwisely decided to eat a candy bar in view of a monkey. She shrieked, the monkey retreated a couple feet away, opened the package and chowed down.



Afterwards we headed back to the guesthouse and rented motorbikes (automatics since I am clutch-inept) and took a little tour around the surrounding area, stopping to visit a very old Hindu temple. It should be noted that in Bali there is always a ceremony going on. There are everyday ceremonies, weekly, monthly, yearly...everywhere are food, incense, and flower offerings in handmade palm leaf containers that are woven that morning. This particular weekend was a ceremony acknowledging the return of the ancestors (who had been visiting for ten days) to the spirit world with god. So besides all the tourists in the area, there was a lot of local activity as people were dressed for and celebrating this holiday along with coinciding temple festivals.

In the evening, we caught one of the temple shows. This one was based on a Hindu story and was "narrated" by several circles of men chanting with different characters coming in and out of the circle. The show was followed by a horse trance dance, where a man with a horse head costume (hard to describe) galloped over burning coconut shell coals while music played. We had ringside seats which was great for the show, but meant Sarah and I were liberally sprinkled with soot from the burning coconut shells. (Pictures to follow).

Also today - we found the shop and healer featured in the book Eat, Pray, Love. However, due to the festivals, though she greeted us, her shop wasn't open for lunch. Sarah got her picture taken with the "celeb", and we were on our way.

Bali Bound

Friday was a partial day culminating to my very long and tedious trip to Ubud, Bali. The plan was to meet Sarah at her office at 3p, have her office driver take us to the airport, fly 1 1/2 hrs to Bali, and have the guesthouse driver drive us to Ubud. Simple enough. However, 2:30p Friday afternoon rolled around and their was no driver at my office, or taxi available to take me. I suggested someone take me on their motorbike but there was no one available. Finally, and running out of time, one of the security guards hailed a motorbike "taxi" for me and I spent 20 grimy minutes, speeding through the hectic traffic and pollution of Jakarta to Sarah's office. 1 1/2 hrs later we were at the airport where the plane was first delayed but after we sat down for a quick dinner, there was an announcement that we were actually boarding. Throwing dinner into a take-out box, and hurrying back through security, we figured out which gate to use and boarded. Upon arriving an hour late in Bali, and meeting our driver, his car wouldn't start. It died once on the way to Ubud but finally by 11p we made it to our guesthouse - where the driver requested more money because our flight was late and the guesthouse requested more for the room because the ceiling fan didn't work and we had a/c instead. Not the best way to start a "relaxing" vacation but we were at least happy to have arrived.

Diet histories in the urban slum

Thursday morning, I headed out with a translator to visit four families in the urban slums. We were to collect 24 hr. diet recalls and food expenditure information from two very poor familes and two not-as-poor families. Definitely not scientifically based, but to gain an observational snap shot of actual child feeding practices relate to socio-economic factors.

My translator was an 18 year old half British/half, Chinese/Indonesian girl who is bi-lingual. And while I don't think she completely understood what we were doing, she was a great source of information on local food and customs. This picture is of the 2nd to the poorest of the four families. They live in this one room house along with the 10 year old daughter and husband. The baby is 12 days old and probably because of the bad Jakarta traffic, was born in a taxi.

The interviews were essentially mini case-studies supporting what is already known - almost everyone spends a lot of money on pre-made food and snacks from street vendors which are essentially very poor nutritionally. However, the mom from the poorest family did not have enough money to always feed her family three meals a day let alone afford snacks for her kids. She rarely was able to provide them with a protein source. The second poorest family at least had cow skin on the menu (though the jury is still out on how much protein that contains). Regardless of income, mothers reported that their little kids were filling up on snack foods and not eating meals - and in a report I read, one reason for giving in is the community pressure to keep your kid quiet in such densely populated neighborhoods. So when they throw a tantrum, the mother's first priority is to make the child happy. Spoiling one's appetite is definitely a world-wide, time-honored practice so hardly surprising it exists here as it does everywhere.

The other habits of the urban poor is to shop daily, and cook every morning all the food that will be consumed that day, and without refrigeration, they keep reheating it for each meal until it is gone. It was really interesting getting to three out of the four families' homes - ranging from one room to perhaps four rooms in total. The mother of the poorest family - 7 children ranging in age from 3 to 24 with only one source of income and whatever the oldest sent home as a maid - came out to the alley to talk with us. She had, I believe, put on her best dress and did her hair nicely to meet with us. My translator became increasingly uncomfortable and then told me that the mother was acting very uncomfortable answering questions about how she fed her family within earshot of all the neighbors. Needless to say, we finished the interview without getting all the information we needed. (Pictures coming soon!)

New accommodations

As mentioned earlier, Monday I moved to an expat staff's apartment while she is away traveling. The apartment is part of a giant complex which includes my building, a series of two/three storey homes laid out very similarly to a western condo/apartment complex and a third area which I haven't seen because it's behind the giant "green door" which cordons off the embassy housing from the rest of us. Along with being behind gates with a plethora of gate-men, there are three swimming pools, three tennis courts, a gym, coffee shop and spa. The complex is next to it's own little neighborhood strip mall complete with grocery store and is a five minute walk to the office.

Now that all sounds well and good - and it is. However, as with any move, your first night can be literally a rude awakening. For starters, there is no TV or internet connection in the apartment. Alright no worries there. What was causing me grief was shortly after going to bed, I had the feeling that I was being snacked upon. Flip on the light and yes I had bites but I wasn't sure what kind. So thinking it might be something in the bed, I switched to the other guest room. Things were going better but the occasional sting followed by burning indicated that yes, I was being bitten by mosquitoes. Very silent, very small but very vampire-esque beasts. In half slumber, I realized that they/it was making a small meal of my face. So a little deet mask later, and I managed through the rest of the night. Upon awakening in the morning, I was puffy-eyed and lip swollen and a bit itchy all over.

My colleague upon assuring me that my lip was more pleasantly plump than a fat-lip, arranged with the housekeeper to install a mosquito net that day. Tuesday night was much nicer. In fact, sleeping under a mosquito net has a certain romantic, out-of-Africa feel to it. AND while working from under it last night, I discovered a free wi-fi signal too. I also tried out one of the pools. It was beautiful but a little eerie having a dimly lit, deserted, night swim complete with prayer call and bats for ambiance.

A "field" trip to the slums

Because I am collecting information on the nutrition/food situation in the urban slums of Jakarta, the nutrition director thought it would be helpful for me to pay a visit for some context. So this morning, I set out with two national staff and our driver for the tour de slums.

Jakarta is divided into a complex system of local governments within neighborhoods. Today was the monthly weighing and the bi-annual dosing of vitamin A of children. We stopped by several centers where this was happening and also visited several Mercy Corps programs where they have helped the communities implement improved hygiene systems like handwashing stations and community latrines and beautification projects. We also visited a composting project that has an income generation component.

While touring the neighborhoods, we ducked down the pathways between buildings where families live in one-room apartments. Cooking facilities that do exit are located outside the room, and there are no toilets or running water. Skirting buildings and pathways is the gutter, where many people relieve themselves and which is absolutely fetid with stagnant water and filth. It was a really amazing experience to see what is a completely normal existence for such a large portion of the world but is unknown to the rest of us.

What I was supposed be taking special note of are the street vendors. The word for them translates into "five legs" because the cart has three legs and the vendor has two. They all sell relatively the same thing and not much of it is healthy. The community and Mercy Corps are concerned with the amount of snacking children do. They don't eat regularly meals but buy snacks from the vendors: fried noodles, chips, candy, soda, ices, sweets etc. The regular consumption of these foods, in place of nutrient dense meals, is said to be causing stunting and micronutrient deficiences in children and obesity is a concern too. One idea is to initiate dialogue with the vendors to find options for selling healthy snacks and then have carts labeled as a "healthy snack" cart. A complex situation which hopefully will have an effective solution.

Living it up in Jakarta

My living situation has changed so that I only have internet access at the office - and this afternoon I have managed to get the IT guy to drop the block on blogspot. That and pubmed. Apparently which sites are blocked is rather random.

So a little catching up is in order. Sunday I spent my last day at the hotel. I took a short walk and stumbled upon a neighborhood of gated houses on tree lined streets - a far cry yet so close to where my hotel is located. A posh hotel but step out on to the street and you can't tell if the sidewalk is coming or going. Gaping holes that would break your leg are everywhere and that's if you aren't run down by a motorbike off-roading to beat the traffic. Also on this street is the most gi-normous KFC I have ever seen. KFC is more prevalent in Asia than any other fast food franchise (by my observation). This one has an indoor playground and a music center. I couldn't get the whole thing in the picture because at rush hour it was impossible to cross the street.

Also on Sunday I treated myself to a spa treatment - 90 minutes of being massaged, scrubbed and slathered with various substances. It was, shall we say, the most thorough and sticky treatment I've ever experienced but oh it was lovely...and about $22.

Inside the ex-pat life

After spending a very relaxing morning working and learning Obama's life story on CNN, I took a taxi to the country director's house to attend his 3-year old son's birthday. Gathered at his very nice house were an assortment of American, British and Australian ex-pats with their children and nannies in tow. In no way do I judge the ex-pat life but I am not used to one that includes maids, nannies and general house help. In most of these families, both parents work and without the daycares of the western world, the nanny is an indispensable position. And from what I've heard, the nannies are far more reliable here than back home.

It was a pretty good shindig. The kids - mostly boys between the ages of 2 and 5 ran around, there was a water fight, lots of great food, a Pooh ice cream cake, and a Pooh pinata. Yes, pinatas are plentiful in Jakarta. A teacher from one of the international schools said that they are a part of most children's parties. The funny thing about this Pooh pinata was that the kids kept taking turns thwacking the poor bear but Pooh refused to yield. Half way through the beating, one parent muttered "It isn't one of the ones with wire is it?". And as the beast started to come apart, it was held in shape by chicken wire. Fortunately, the kids didn't care and when the host finally shook the candy out of the bear, the usual chaos ensued.

A Saturday afternoon well spent. A very friendly crew who all confirmed that Jakarta is a nice place to live as long as you have everything you need nearby because it takes forever to get anywhere at any time in this huge sprawling city. PS Check out this cool party idea - putting jello inside orange slices which then become little boats. Way cool.

It's a small world afterall...

This morning at the hotel breakfast, I found myself looking toward a very familiar face. And since the face was looking at me, I suspected we had correctly placed each other. Of all the hotels in all the cities in the developing world, I had run into my predecessor at Mercy Corps. Sarah had held my position prior to me and I hadn't seen her for nearly two years. But for the same three weeks we are both in Jakarta assisting our orgs' respective country offices (she is based out of DC now). Very bizarro.

And so today proceeded like yesterday sans the exhaustion. Lunch was at a local hole in the wall where you go through buffet style choosing from various platters and bowls of food: fried tempeh, stewed fish, tofu, chicken, beef, vegetables and rice. It was incredibly good stuff and we ate in what could very likely be the family after-hours living room.

The Longest Day

Because you never want to count your chickens before they hatch, I wasn't thoroughly convinced my exit from Singapore was guaranteed. Thus, I was up far too early for my far too early departure time just to make sure I was on that plane. But make it I did and despite having to answer an awful lot of questions at immigration, they let me into Indonesia where the 1 1/2 hrs commute through Jakarta morning rush-hour and my very friendly driver du jour awaited me.

So what the heck am I doing here for the next three weeks? I am gathering as much information as possible on the current situation surrounding child malnutrition in the urban slums of Jakarta. What I can't find via the internet, I'll then have to try to get from other organizations. All the information will then be funneled through a meeting in September where they will transform it into the the Urban Nutrition Strategy to be used for future programming and to entice future donors. Voila!

For my first week I'm staying at really nice hotel which on my first night would have been even nicer if there hadn't been a ruckus dinner event at the pool below my room. The exuberant entertainment however was no match for my sleep deprivation and I managed to pass out early despite it sounding like the singer was belting it out next to my bed.

Singapore - Day 2

Day two was a more coherent more productive day. After making sure that my original flight out was canceled without canceling my return flight, I went out to explore the city. A morning street vendor breakfast of spicy noodle soup call laksa and then I managed a city bus ride to the Sinapore Botanical Garden. Surrounded by the city, it is a tranquil, expansive retreat full of all sorts of, well, plants and it's free! They have an evolution walk talking about the development of plant life on the planet, a ginger garden, spice garden, medicinal plants, beverage plants and an orchestra shell for evening concerts. It was a drizzly morning which was really nice. (The photo is taken behind a waterfall in the garden.)

Afterwards, I headed to Clarkes Quay which is basically a really touristy - shopping mecca - though I'm starting to suspect the whole city is about eating and shopping. This area borders on China town, which I took a miss in favor of exploring Raffles Hotel. Apparently Mr. Raffles was a historic figure but I didn't research him. Instead I walked around the palacial hotel "grounds" which were essentially shops surrounding the main hotel. This hotel is famous for its grandeur as well as being the birthplace of the Singapore Sling cocktail. They sell them for a measely $20.

And that was Singapore - a really great city where people are notably very friendly. I highly recommend a stopover there. Though perhaps without the drama. Tomorrow with my visa and passport in hand, I'm Indo-bound.

Life is what happens when you are making plans...

The plan. Part 1: On first flight watch as many movies as possible (Narnia, Kung Fu Panda, Hors de Prix and What Happens in Vegas...). Check. Part 2: On second flight, get as much sleep as possible. Check. Part 3: While waiting for Indo visa, see as much of Singapore as possible. Derail. Everything was going according to plan, until I called the visa guy Monday morning in Singapore, and he politely informed me that the embassy is not open today and I will have to find a different flight out on Tuesday in order to get my visa back to me in time. Two frantic and groggy hours later, I have a ticket on a different airline for very early Wednesday morning and will be staying another night in Singapore. Good thing it's not on my dime. So now I have two whole days to see Singapore though what I'd really rather do right now is sleep, read and watch TV. But out I will go - it was Part 3 of the plan afterall and with any luck there will be pictures to follow...

...And what did I see? I went to Little India which sort of felt like what I experienced in S. India. It was hot, I visited a temple, ate paratha and dahl and walked by numerous Indian vendors with Indian music playing. On my way back to the hotel I did the strangest of things. I went to a mall. Why? It's air-conditioned, there a ton of them near my hotel and I wanted to browse the Singpore travel books. And for a mall, it wasn't half bad. They have a wider selection of stores and the food court tops anything we have. I mean, where in the states can you "self-serve" all sorts of fruit on a stick? Or as you see in the picture - you can grab a cuppa corn..mmm.

...And then I did something I never do. I slept all day long. I slept and slept and slept with periodic awakenings to check email, or let in some handy-man with a can of WD-40 to do something to the back of the toilet tank, or wonder how the bar across the street could STILL be belting out music all-night-and-morning-long.

Zai Jian/Ni Hao

It's my last night in Beijing which comes with mixed feelings. I'm really glad to be going but a little sad to be leaving. Guo Xin treated me to a farewell Sichuan dinner where I tried preserved eggs. I think the spicy sauce helped mask the gelatinous consistency and grey color. Think grey hard boiled yet jellied egg. She said the good ones are actually orange-y in color. Maybe next time.

On my way to work today, I finally took a picture of a sweet potato vendor. I tried one of these recently and it was very tasty. Another evening I bought some roasted chestnuts. I would have taken a picture of the guy but we had a monetary miscommunication and if he actually wasn't calling me a "dumb foreigner" then his tone certainly implied it. It wasn't really a Kodak moment. I paid the finally understood price (when someone holds up two fingers it mean two to me, not twenty), took my chestnuts and hurried home. But they were tasty.

"Zai jian" Beijing and "Ni hao" Portland and "Xie xie" to those who have been following this blog. I've appreciated the company.

Corporate Love

My last full day in China dawned bright, blue and, well, really cold. After a final staff lunch at a dumpling restaurant, where Guo Xin videoed us reciting a poem for her upcoming wedding celebration (written by Zhao Min where we each took turns reading a line), I spent the rest of the afternoon at the Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) forum. It was a big televised event held at a hotel famed for hosting important international VIPs such as our very own former President Bush Sr. It was quite a production with dancers, lights, cameras, media a-plenty, government ministers, a representative from UNDP and a slew of corporate leaders accepting awards for their demonstration of CSR.

I had been unsure whether I really wanted to attend, but having little choice, was glad they provided those little headphones which relay simultaneous translation. Even then, it was hard to follow what was being said. And sometimes you had to wonder at the choice of words. Several corporate representatives talked about the "love" they were giving, feeling, sharing with the community. Okay, perhaps, but...it seems a stretch. Another interesting experience was, being one of maybe three foreigners at the event, it felt rather odd having the camera on the boom sweep down and stare me squarely in the face - and lo' and behold, my face flashed up on the screen behind the speaker. It's really hard to hold an interested face AND not look at the camera while it hangs there like a giant eye watching you. I really feel for celebrities attending awards shows...not really, but it did cross my mind.

I was attending the forum because MC works with corporations to implement their CSR strategies helping them work/volunteer with local NGOs - such as Dandelion School. Our office figured it would be good to have a presence at the event. However, after 2 1/2 hours of speeches, videos and awards, I took off. It was interesting though hearing speaker after speaker say the same things about working towards worker safety, worker's rights, following labor laws, not using child labor, incorporating green production methods etc. Many protections that the west frequently takes for granted but are now becoming the buzz for this country.

Mao's Mausoleum

This morning I paid an overdue visit to Mao. It had been on my list of things to do so this Sunday morning, I got up early, subwayed over to the south end of Tiananmen Square and joined the throng. (The photo I took last month looking towards Mao's Mausoleum at the southern end of Tiananmen Square.)

It is quite a procedure but that is part of the experience. Since bags and cameras are not allowed, I arrived with money, passport and my apartment keys. They let one large group go at a time, so you stand in line waiting for your turn. Following a yellow-lined path, you proceed to the security check point and through a metal detector. Then you line up in four rows until everyone is together again. Our mass group was led up the front of the mausoleum into the foyer where there is a white statue of Mao sitting amid dozens of plants. At this point people can place fake tulips they purchased prior to entry in front of Mao (the flowers are periodically gathered up to be repurchased by future visitors). In the next room, surrounded by a glass wall, is the glass casket holding the preserved Mao. I had read online about his "glowing" head. And with a light aimed at his waxy face, it does have a yellowy glow. You have about 10 seconds to get your fill of Mao as the group files past and enters the last room - the souvenir shop. And that's it. The amount of time you spend in the mausoleum is about 30 seconds. And it's free.

As I stood outside again, it was a poignant moment. Not because of Mao but because I realized that this was the last time I would be in the heart of Beijing before returning home. It was strangely a sad realization.

Shopping...

I am not a big fan of shopping. But, this being China, with souvenirs and Christmas gifts beckoning, and the end of my trip looming, it was time to go out and get the job done. Psyched up, list and money in hand, and repeating a mantra to resolve to bargain, I entered the world of Beijing shopping.

My first stop, and I wish I'd taken photos but it was all I could handle focusing on my mission, was the Silk Market. Don't be misinformed by the name. It is a five story enclosed building crowded with stalls of shops on each floor and a fifth floor food court. In the basement are shoes, hand bags and luggage. Clothes are on the other floors and the silk fabric store is located on the fourth floor. It is like something out of a movie - if that movie took place in seedy alleys in Thailand. I felt propositioned. The phrases "Lady, lady, you want nice hand bag? Lookie, lookie. Come here, you want Gucci?" followed me as, head down, not making eye-contact, I quickly maneuvered my way through the stalls. "Lady, lady, lookie, lookie." Thing is, despite their lack of English, the young women are well schooled in how to NOT strike a bargain. I bought a pair of throw pillow cases - they sell the same few patterns everywhere making me cringe to think there is a sweat-shop somewhere mass producing them. The girl who sold them to me was smooth. When I offered a counter price she scoffed and said "What! You must be joking me. I give you good price." The game was up before it started.

Saturday morning, having survived unscathed from my evening at the Silk Market, I rose early and headed back to the Dirt Market. It didn't get above freezing that day. I cruised through the stalls hunting for my gifts. Here there is no "lookie, lookie" but there seems to be a secret to eyeing things without really eyeing them. Because once they've caught you seriously looking at something the aggressive calculator game starts. One of you punches in a number and the other counter punches. If you walk away, they grab you "what price? what price?" Practicing western guilt, I feel like I got their hopes up for something I have no intention to buy. Such was the case when I stopped to look at old man's collection of odds and ends. In a friendly way, I gave the "It's cold, isn't it?" pantomime (he spoke no English) and next thing I knew he took me into his dusty little shop, took off my gloves, put my hands on the radiator which was great for my numbed fingers, and invited me to sit down. I felt obligated to look around for something to buy. I spotted one of those bowls that you hit to make a lovely gong sound and out came the calculator. Guilt ensued, after all he was so sweet, so we bargained and I bought it. He even offered to let me stow my purchases while I shopped. Did I need this bowl? No. But the memory of that friendly little old guy, makes the purchase more worth it.

Academic Dreams

China is frequently linked with high academic performance. Guo Xin confirmed that no matter the socio-economic status of a family, great stress it put on succeeding through education. So it was that Friday afternoon, I met more of our adolescent beneficiaries who had completed their education at Dandelion and were part of the first group of unregistered students to be accepted into a public high school. It is a three year school, where the first two years are spent on academics and then in the third year the student can decide whether to work towards going to a university or start vocational training. They live at the school during the week, traveling for hours by bus every weekend back to their homes on the other side of Beijing.



We visited the students that afternoon to practice their English and show them a movie which is a huge treat. The feature DVD that day was the animated film Ratatouille (above photo: they are engrossed in the film). The students are amazing kids. They are migrant youth from all over China who glow and buzz with interest and excitement. They were so friendly and so attentive, eager to speak their very good English, express how thankful they are to be in the school and how they hope to work hard to succeed. As their class leader told me "All of our dreams are to go to University". It warms your heart and you really hope they do - though it will be a challenge given their educational background. One girl (see photo), all smiles, ran up to me when I was leaving, telling me how glad she was to meet me, that she would like to come to my home and then gave me a huge hug. If I could, I would bundle her up, take her home and see that she becomes everything she wants to be.

Non-profits in the land of profit

Another task completed during my stay was the MC orientation for our Beijing staff. Two of our four staff started in September and the third when I arrived. These three are also new to non-profit work. And as I was to learn, non-profits are a new, and sometimes hard to grasp concept in China. Aside from the nuts and bolts of the MC HQ office, I wanted to emphasize such catchy concepts as "transparency", "accountability", and "team work".





During the post-Q&A session, one of my coworkers asked what he should tell his friends when they ask him about MC. They do not understand how non-profits work. There's no profit? Well, then we must be a front for secret operations. It seems suspicious. From the discussion that followed, it appears that China is only beginning to accept the idea of "charity" work. As my colleague Guo Xin explained it to us, the west has traditionally had a religious culture to foster the ideas of "it is better to give than receive" and "give back to society" etc. China, with its Buddhist heritage and political climate, does not have that same cultural ideal. But times are changing. Ten years ago, NGO work was nearly absent but now there are large numbers of local NGOs and the presence of international ones as well - though it is very difficult to register in the country and keep a low-profile to be allowed to stay.

The Face of Mercy Corps

One of my tasks while I am at the Beijing office is to act as the token westerner for public events. When the British couple came to visit Dandelion School, I was unanimously voted the presenter. When the donor visited yesterday, Kate insisted I go along as the HQ representative. And this morning, after a miscommunication left me standing outside in the absolutely frigid cold for a half hour in front of The People's Great Hall (where the communist party meets, next to Tiananmen Square) without an invitation, I was to perform the token duty of handing the president of the Chinese Foundation for Poverty Alleviation a large sign showing how much money has been donated through MC, shake hands, be given an appreciation plaque, all the while having our picture taken.

From appearances, it seemed to be a rather important event. There were many celebrities there - the latest Chinese version of American Idol winner, several actors and some singers, as well as the treasured master calligrapher's club and some very high up government officials. During the whole handing over of the cards and accepting the plaques, Chinese march music played continually giving the atmosphere a very surreal feel. We each had corsages and upon departing were given a swag bag which contained a calendar and a men's dress shirt. Huh?? Whoever fits the shirt, it's all yours.

Moving through Beijing

Or not. Functioning in Beijing is a constant question of mobility. How does one get from point A to point B safely and efficiently? The answer is not always clear. If you get in a vehicle you are never sure whether you will arrive at your destination on time or get stuck in a crushing traffic jam. There's the subway which eventually reaches some destinations but isn't a solution to access the whole city. There's walking but you may be hoofing it for quite a distance dodging an obstacle course of people, vendors, bus stops, cars and phlegm. Or there's the bicycle, which seems like sure-fire way to learn more about that insurance phrase "death or dismemberment".

For the past week I had found the nerve to commute by bike to work. It was only half as quick as walking - which says something about the speed of bicyclists - but it was much more enjoyable. I likened it to a multi-directional game of Frogger. In addition to facing obstacles perpendicularly, people, bicycles and two, three and four wheeled motorized vehicles come at you from every possible angle and large intersections have up to 10 traffic signals to gauge. My adventures in bicycling were to be short lived because Tuesday evening, I discovered that divine intervention had decided I was pressing my luck and, to avoid injury, I could no longer tempt fate. Alas, the old bike, with two locks, was stolen from across from our office. Kate had warned me of the possibility and said I shouldn't worry about it. So, I'm off the streets and back to the sidewalk. (Photo: one of the many different styles of 3-wheeled vehicles)

Apartment in the sky

For most of my stay in Beijing, I have been residing at my colleague's apartment while she is on home and work leave in the US. In essence, I have become her, living there, using her bike and overseeing the day-to-day activities of the office. Us foreigners are easily interchangeable. (Photo: view from the apartment.)

The apartment "city" is called Stone Garden and from what I can tell is made up of about ten 25-plus story apartment buildings. There is also a nursery school, central plaza, store, snack kiosk which is also responsible for delivering water jugs, and a community center which houses a farmers market/grocery store/food court in the basement, restaurant on the main level and at least a gym on one of the upper floors. In the mornings, the older residents practice their tai chi in the plaza and at night their ballroom dance moves in the community center. Last night a group of them were outside practicing some sort of synchronized routine involving flags and a pom pom. We also have a guard house and elevator ladies. All the ladies do, from what I can tell, is memorize where every single resident in their building lives and press the floor button and door open and close buttons for you. (Note: The Chinese are very big into the open and close buttons in elevators. After some very scientific research, I have discovered that in fact the door will close two seconds faster if you hit the door closed button just as soon as the door opens. For people who move so slowly, they sure are an impatient, pushy bunch.)

Kate's apartment is very nice. A two bedroom, two bath, overly heated, 11th floor, lovely apartment completely kitted out in IKEA decor (yes, IKEA is in BJ). I have access to one Chinese based international TV channel, plus an intriguing music video channel (although mostly modern love ballads, last night there were Asian cowboys line-dancing outside a diner and in a barn, drinking milk all to a very catchy tune), and a channel entirely dedicated to western extreme sports. Thus, I have been working my way through an eclectic selection of pirated DVDs that Kate inherited from, if the choice of movies is any indication, a friend who reveled in angst. See the list on this blog (I can't see it but I think it's located to the right) to see what made the watched-list.

Did I mention, this apartment also comes with a weekly cleaning lady? Having a cleaning service is very common in Beijing - both my female coworkers employ one. Zhao Min's also looks after her daughter in the afternoons and starts dinner. Kate's comes every Thursday morning, at which time, I leave let her in, leave her some money (~$6) and then go to work. Presto - a cleaner apartment and sometimes laundered bedding, when I get home.

But before this begins to sound like bliss, let me point out that for whatever structural defect, one man's ceiling is literally another man's floor. I have come to learn the daily schedule of the family above me. I know when it's food prep time (sounds of chopping), cleaning/washing time, instrument practice time (keyboard or most recently, clarinet), and I know when it's time (10p) to put the little daughter to bed (clickety-clack of little shoes running to and fro followed by five minutes of fussing and then quiet).

Photo: This is not the little girl, but a cute as a button baby I saw in Xi'an who was outwith his grandfather. If viewed from behind (literally), the little guy was sporting traditional split-crotch pants exposing his bare bum as he toddled around.