avelog

Ok. So I finally put my photos from East and Central-East Africa up on Flickr. They can be found here.

The past few months have been a rollercoaster. What is often referred to as “reverse culture shock” has been the major influence on my state of mind. Of course, such things are always far more complex than such a term can capture, but that’s the best I can do without delving into the assuredly alarming inner workings of my mind. The West Coast sun helped soothe both body and soul, but surely couldn’t lend order to my thoughts.

After drifting for several weeks, I joined a research project at UBC’s business school. I was involved in a preliminary project examining the feasibility of a new Centre for Social Entrepreneurship. The field, unfamiliar to most and not well defined, involves applying entrepreneurial spirit and skills to projects that favour social outcomes at least as much as finanical outcomes. Such projects can be for-profit or non-profit, but share some sort of positive social vision. It provided me the opportunity to learn more about a field with which I had had passing contact while travelling, and which sparked my interest as a new and potentially edgy development paradigm.

September heralded a return to coursework and an altogether new research focus. I try to imagine that I am developing a unique and integrated skill set, although it sometimes seems that I am simply wandering from field to field. My new research will involve the production-side impacts of biodiesel crops in India, in an attempt to avoid the surge of funding and lack of thorough research that have characterized the American bioethanol industry. The real costs and benefits - environmental, social, and economic - must be rigorously identified before rampant enthusiasm takes over (although we may be a bit late in this regard).

And so life goes, ever forward; a definite beginning, a definite end, but meanwhile, everything is muddled and uncertain.

It occurred to me that I should eventually complete the details of my African journey, and post some kind of assessment of where I’m headed next. I’ve been back in Canada for nearly five months now, and have gone through a number of phases in terms of happiness, energy and determination.

My last few weeks in Africa were spent in Burundi, Cape Town, and back in Pretoria. The few days in Burundi turned out to be very rewarding. My new friend took us on a road trip, visiting his home town, and pretty well anything remotely interesting that occurred to him along the way. We paused to take in an avocado oil factory; a memorial condemming the atrocities of the civil war; a pair of hills that his father always maintained were a set of women’s legs spread invitingly; a sculptured mural exploring ancient Burundian myths; a former refugee camp that had grown into a permanent village; a new biotechnology research facility in the highlands, dedicated to the development of improved crop varieties for the African Great Lakes region; and many many other little spots of interest.

We stayed overnight in his hometown of Gitega, at a two-level concrete hotel owned by his father. In the evening, we stopped by his father’s house to join the extended family in feast and revelry, children running in and out and around a low-slung house and people spilling out onto the covered concrete patio, beer or wine in hand. Goat skewers, mashed potatoes, and salad were eaten from paper plates balanced precariously as we stood around and absorbed the conversations flowing through room.

On Sunday morning, we were woken by the sounds of a jubilant Church parade winding through the town centre, past the balconies of our hotel. Colourful banners were carried a the head of a number of seemingly different groups following eachother; hundreds of men, women, and children in each groups marching, dancing, and singing songs in Kirundi.

While driving back to the capital, Bujumura, to catch my flight back to South Africa, we paused to intercept the minibus to Rwanda, so that my travelling companion could return to her medicine elective. Despite my Burundian friend’s assurances that we had plenty of time to catch my flight, we barely made it in time and were chastised by the airline attendants before I was allowed on the plane.

Flying south from Bujumura, over the dense Congolese jungle and arid stretches of Zambia and South Africa, left me feeling intensely bittersweet. I knew that it would be a very long time before I would ever return to the colourful and diverse cultures and contexts through which I had travelled during the previous months; so often and so starkly an outsider, yet welcomed so warmly. My life of day-to-day uncertainty and adventure was to return to the more mundane and frightening long-term uncertainty and excrutiating detail that I had not-so-easily forgotten. Decisions about grad school were looming, and I was questioning whether academic pursuits were really of any importance in my life plan. I knew that if landing in Cape Town was to be a shock, incongruous as it is with the African context, my impending return to Canada would be something altogether different; possessing a sense of finality for which I was not prepared.

My ten days in Cape Town were a transition. I spent much of it wandering around on foot, aware of the constant warnings about personal safety now that I was back in South Africa, but with a hardened resolve to wander nonetheless, borne from months of solo travel. I hiked up Table Mountain, lingering several hours to watch the sun setting over a seemingly eternal ocean. I strode purposefully up and down Long Street, conscious of the stories - muggings and attempted muggings - that had flitted around the backpacker’s where I was staying. I went down to the A & M Waterfront, converted from its historical roots in maritime commerce, to a vast, touristy district of shops and restaurants. I contemplated the architecture and history imbued in buildings from the Dutch era of which I had learned so much during my research in Pretoria. But most of all, I was obsessed with the life-changing decisions that I had to make.

After an agonizing week, I finally decided that the best course - for my personal life and career - was to move to Vancouver and start an MSc program at UBC. Having set my mind (mostly) to rest on this issue, my time was freed up to fight with Singapore Airlines to have my return flight booked. For various reasons, this was extremely frustrating, and it monopolized much of my remaining time in South Africa. After flying back to Pretoria, I was fortunate enough to be able to stay at a former colleague’s house while he was vacationing in Australia. With many errands to finish before getting on my plane back to Canada, I wasn’t able to see friends as much as I would have liked, but managed to drop in at work on my way to the airport for one final goodbye. My bags overstuffed with African trinkets, both tacky and sentimental, I boarded my 40 hour flight back to Canada, dazed and confused, uncertain and apprehensive, hopeful and impatient.

I cannot sum up, or draw a line under, my African experience, for fear that this will finalize it. Life is continuous and complex; it cannot be boxed off and packed away. I have every hope - and a deep-seated need - that this will not be the end of adventure. I am sure that my fears seem naïve in the eyes of those more experienced or wise, but I can only communicate my own state of mind; not that of my elder self to come.

I’ve tried to write a few things down here, but due to a combination of slow internet and power failures, it has been a bit of a mishap.

The important thing is that I am safe and healthy. I’m currently in Moshi, Tanzania, near to Mount Kilimanjaro. I’ve had pretty crazy few days! Having had to vacate my first night’s room, I headed blindly south, with only the name ‘Kipepeo Beach’ to guide me and randomly met three different guys that I thought at first were trying to scam me, and each eventually ended up helping me quite a bit. I stayed one night at the beach accomodation, and was introduced (by one of the above-mentioned guys) to a fellow named Mwasi, a self-employed tour consultant who ran four jeeps on safaris. Despite the fact that I hadn’t planned to do any safaris yet, if at all, I ended up agreeing to a three-day trip to the Mikumi National Park and Udzungwa Mountain National Park (one of the biodiversity hotspots of Africa, in the Eastern Arc Mountains). I joined three German girls and a guide in a Land Rover and we cruised around Mikumi for one and a half days looking at animals, and then I did a four hour hike with a local guide in the mountain park, looking at monkeys and a huge variety of plants. It had been pouring down rain all night and only eased a little in the morning, so the girls didn’t end up coming on the trek. I got to climb up to three waterfalls and took some nice photos that I’ll post eventually.

The night I got back to Dar es Salaam, the same tour consultant SMSed me saying that there was a group doing the Serengeti/Ngorongoro Crater/Lake Manyara safari followed by a climb of Kilimanjaro, and did I want to go. The catch was that I’d have to leave for Moshi early the next morning and it was already 9pm. I delayed insisting that I speak first with a friend of a friend who was to meet me for a beer, but after some thought and conversation, I decided to spend the money and get it over with (I’ll have little left, so wandering aimlessly once I’m done these too things had better be fairly cheap!). This morning, Mwasi put me on a bus to Moshi, and I’ve only just arrived, greeted by his cousin Phillip (another tour operator) who is running these two tours.

Although Phillip’s story and Mwasi’s story don’t perfectly align (there are now 12 in the group for the safari, in three jeeps, and nobody yet for Kilimanjaro), it looks like it still might work out. Mwasi told me that I’d be with two Germans and an American for both the safari and the climb, but I might very well be completely alone for the climb (except of course for porters, cook, and guide?!). Apparently it’s much easier to find people for Kili, so Phillip thought it would be a good idea to stick me on the safari while there’s a group going. It’s low season (rainy), so I’m told that it’s often tough to find groups at this time of year.

And of course, I’ll write all about it when I’m done! There are so many details that I wish I could write about, but that I’m sure would sound very very boring in print.

Still safe and happy!

According to the Globe and Mail (Canadian helps Texas teen battle RIAA, 2005-01-31), Terry McBride, head of Nettwerk Music Group (Lavigne, McLachlan, Barenaked Ladies) is funding the legal defence for David Greubel of Arlington, TX as the RIAA attempts to sue him for possession of illegally downloaded songs. McBride says that it’s dangerous to consider music as a product, since music consumerism is wholly dependent on emotional response. He points out that music downloaders are music lovers, and alienating via litigation is not helpful.

Good for him, but is this simply low-cost advertising for his clients?