A fellow classmate at Olaf, Subhash Ghimire, has entered a competition for a $50,000 grant to continue his work with Nepalese children impacted by the civil war that ravaged the country from 1996-2006.  This past summer, among other things, he established a summer camp in Arupokhari to help children overcome the scars of war and the caste system.  He also established the Sarswati Foundation in his mother’s memory and is now moving forward with plans for the Sarswati Peace School, for which he needs the grant.  Please visit the Dell Social Innovation Competition website to vote for his project here.  The voting ends March 3rd (Wednesday) so visit now!  You’ll have to register your email address first.

If you want more information about the work Subhash has done, check out this article.

Thanks for your support!

There are posts in the works but this whole adjusting-back-to-normal-school thing is a tougher exercise in time management than I thought!  Boy do I wish I were back at camp outside Tarangire right now.  I think I’d savor getting dressed in a 104 degree F tent…

BUT I’m not.  I’m here in the library at St. Olaf.  I should be doing my Stats homework as I wait for my next class to roll around – Ethnographic Research Methods (cause I didn’t learn enough lessons from my attempt in the field?!) but instead I’m zoning out.  I just took a Global Climate Change midterm.  Not so sure about that… heh.

Anyway, to keep you busy while I get some more interesting posts prepared, check this out: A Mirror of Nature: Nordic Landscape Painting 1840-1910 .  It’s a traveling exhibit that came to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts over a year ago now.  I went to it and, even though it’s not typically my favorite style, I quite liked it!  A favorite: Akseli Gallen-Kallela.

Enjoy!

I’m pretty overwhelmed right now, as I try to get back into life here.  I visited St. Olaf on Sunday night and nearly drowned in the amount of information I had to process immediately.  I was fully aware that time passes at home while you’re gone and I thought I was prepared, but I guess you can’t prepare for it.  So now I’m sitting here playing and replaying all the details in my head, trying to get a grip on how my home reality has changed without me since July so I can move on and become a part of it once again.  Truth is, I just want it to be January so I can get back to school and start my social clean-up.  Ha.

But I am also, as usual, very excited for Christmas.  It was hard to believe that winter and December were happening while I was in Tanzania.  The occasional Christmas carol would float out of a storefront, but most of Tanzanian life went on as usual without the huge consumerist, snow-obsessed buzz that the United States is used to.  Even though I don’t personally like to spend oodles of money on Christmas gifts, I enjoy the cheer and traditions that come with the season and really missed walking through decked out malls and hearing Christmas music 24/7 on the radio.  So I’m glad to be home.

At jacob’s well on Sunday, though, they played this video before the service and I quite liked it so I’m linking to it.  There’s more discussion of it on this blog post if you’re interested but here’s the video.  The video’s home site is www.adventconspiracy.org.  Enjoy!

We hiked for a total of 5 days through about 5 different ecological zones, all beautiful and all still pretty pristine. We met people from all over the world and found ourselves worrying about how these perfect strangers were doing as they climbed. We shared blister band-aids. We climbed endlessly and then descended in a rush. The stars were beautiful, the view was breathtaking, the glaciers are still there – somewhat – and the adrenaline was phenomenal.

I’m currently sitting in an internet cafe in Arusha, Tz, killing a day before my friend Zoe and I head to Tanzania’s second largest city, Mwanza. Mwanza is in Northwestern Tanzania, on Lake Victoria.  It is famous for its fishing industry and – I’m told – holds a lot of economic power because the region is also good for mining and coffee.  It’s supposed to be a beautiful city on the lake, surrounded by hills studded with huge boulders.  There are a number of islands near Mwanza that offer great “getaways” as well.  Zoe and I have no plans as of yet, so we’ll see what we end up doing.  Personally, at this point it’s fun just to hang out in these cities.

I’m writing from the Marangu Hotel in Moshi, Tanzania.  We have been briefed and are now “prepared” to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro tomorrow.  We will do a five day climb via the Marangu Route and will reach Uhuru peak about the time all you USAers are eating Thanksgiving dinner – if all goes well, of course.  So, wish me luck and Happy Thanksgiving!  I’ll be sure to let you all know how it goes when I get back down.

Cheers!

There has been a student strike going on here at the University of Dar es Salaam for the last few days. Parades of students on walkout marched past our house the last two days and my host dad came home last night to say that branches were thrown on his car as he was driving to work. Apparently strikes like this happen every year. This one is due to the government’s failure to distribute the loans it promised to much of the student body. The University has demanded payment for the semester and without their loans to help them pay, many students are being sent home. Now they’re striking to try to get the money they need. There’s an extra twist in the story involving embezzlement of millions of shillings by some higher-ups in the Tanzanian government, but sadly my Swahili wasn’t quite good enough to decipher exactly what all that was about. I’d guess that the money that was supposed to go to the students actually went into government pockets. Anyway, the strike has been a tiny bit terrifying because students are being pulled off buses on their way to school and – as I mentioned – people in cars on the University grounds (where we live) are being called “thief” as branches are thrown on their hoods. Every time I go out, people ask if I’m a student at the University and why I’m striking and now today a notice was circulated that the University has been closed and all its students suspended until further notice. We’re not sure when classes will resume. We’ve heard two weeks from now, but we’ve also heard February – aka next semester. All students (with the exception of foreign students who would have nowhere to go) were required to move out of the dorms immediately and police and soldiers began to roam the campus to “keep the peace.” Let me tell you, I was pretty nervous to go out on the streets today. Oddly, though, this whole thing seems routine. The notice was published and then everyone just packed up and left! There was a short rally and the police had fun with their megaphones, but I don’t think any trouble really commenced. By mid-afternoon, the campus was completely deserted. It was even quieter than I remember it being in the weeks before classes started and we left for the field! I can’t decide if this silence is eerie or refreshing after the last few days of demonstration. It certainly will be strange not to hear the usual morning racket of discordant music blasting from the windows of overcrowded dorms nor see entire hillsides covered in drying laundry. And it will be strange to have the run of the campus again. Suddenly there are places to sit and study and the possibility of functioning internet and power and water! I don’t know what I will do with this sudden influx of resources! Maybe I’ll actually get my work done.

I am currently sitting on my bed in my host parent’s house, procrastinating on my mountain of homework (this will be posted tomorrow morning when I [hopefully] find internet somewhere up at the main campus). I had a delicious dinner of chapati, njegere, maharage, na mboga (or beans, greens – spinach-like but more ground up, and peas – always slightly undercooked by American standards, eaten with a chapatti). For dessert, I had ndizi na embe ndogo (fried sweet plantains – my absolute favorite thing to eat here – and a small mango). Did you know that there are two types of mango? There are big ones and small ones and they grow on different types of trees! I prefer the big ones because you can get a lot more meat from them, but the mini mangoes were not bad at all. Just pretty fibrous. I was happy I had floss when I was done with mine.

Last night my housemate, Mackenzie, our host parents (hereafter called Mama and Baba), and I went to Mlimani City to see the new James Bond movie, Quantum of Solace. (Mlimani City is a very Western mall on the way into town from the University. It’s handy to have nearby for chocolate emergencies.) I’m sure most of you have already seen Bond, since everyone in the world is a James Bond fan (I know this because it is the only movie I’ve seen come out in Tanzania at the same time as in the States. A worldwide opening! Congratulations, Bond). Mama hadn’t been to the movies since The Passion of the Christ – which came out before Mlimani was even built – and she was a riot, always squealing at the fight scenes. Baba was quieter during the movie but professed his love for it afterward. Apparently he’s a big fan of the old Bond movies and was impressed by how Daniel Craig measured up to Sean Connery. I personally thought the movie was good but not as good as Casino Royale. – Mostly, I was surprised to notice how shocked I was by all the violence. I guess I am no longer desensitized to American violence after three and a half months away from our mass media. What a revelation! American movies are violent beyond belief! Geeze!

Mama and Baba are good sports when it comes to hanging out with Mackenzie and me. On November 5th (Guy Faux Day), we invited them to watch V for Vendetta with us and, to our surprise, they were completely game! To clarify, both Mama and Baba are fluent in English and actually speak it more often than they do Swahili. Baba is originally from Mbeya, in Southern Tanzania, and Mama is from Cameroon (so her first language isn’t Swahili anyway). They both went to college in London, which is where they met and why they knew about Guy Faux Day in the first place. They moved to Dar es Salaam after living in England for eight years. They watch a silly South African soap opera – which is mostly in English – every evening during dinner and correct us when we don’t use the British English for things like “I’m full” you should say “I am finished” or “papaya” which they swear isn’t an English word. The correct word is “pawpaw.” They are absolute dears and Mackenzie and I are really enjoying being little kids again (cause that’s what it feels like). They even bought us popcorn at the movie!

A side note about the movie theater: I have been to the movies twice now since I’ve been here. My first time was when I went to see The Dark Knight during my first few weeks in the country. Both times, I’ve been fascinated by the pre-feature advertisements which are clearly directed at the wealthy, movie-going crowd. There are ads for fitness clubs and health spas even though I don’t know many Tanzanians who would use such facilities. There are hotels and restaurants and conference rooms for rent and a new high-rise in downtown Dar that boasts fourteen condos and three four-bedroom, three-floor suites complete with their own swimming pools – all on the top thirteen floors! Dar is one of the most expensive world cities to live in. I can’t imagine anyone who could afford such a thing here let alone HOW they managed to construct such a tower and how they think they’re going to support it when the power and water regularly go out all over town! – And I can’t help thinking of the beggars that no doubt sit on the tower steps just as they do all over downtown Dar, hoping for a few hundred shillings donation from passersby. Sometimes the disparity between rich and poor is so obvious it hurts. Actually, always. But why do places like this tower even exist?! There are much better things people could be doing with that money. Here’s an idea: give it to those students who were denied their loans so they can finish their education and make a life for themselves. Spend it on developing a waste management plan for the city so that the “rivers” we cross don’t stink to high heaven because they’ve become landfills and so we don’t have to walk through clouds of smoke from burning garbage in 100 degree humidity everyday. Use it to build more secondary schools so that there’s enough space to teach this country’s next generation. There are a million things you could do with money like that, each one better than the last. But for God’s sake, spending it on private swimming pools twenty stories up is not a responsible option. That’s ridiculous. And yet, it has been built. This tower and many others like it exist all over the globe. Sometimes this world disgusts me.

Well it’s getting late and I have a whole new day of work ahead of me tomorrow as I am trying to study for two final exams – each of which constitutes 60% of my grade in their respective classes, write two final papers for those same classes, write up my research paper, and create a bilingual poster summarizing my findings. I have two more days of work time and then it all hits the fan on Saturday. I’m pretty sure I’ll fail both my finals but not for lack of studying or learning or anything. I’ll explain later. For now, wish me luck and as I wrap up here, I’d like to point you in the direction of Chelsea’s blog once again. She has eloquently painted a picture of her time in India and it truly is a joy to read. If I had done half as good of a job keeping you all updated on my adventures as she has done, you’d see the many parallels between her experiences and my own (not that we’ve had the same experience at all, I’m just over here learning many of the same life lessons she is). Anyway, I promise I’m working on filling in the blank that is the field and the most phenomenal part of my trip so far. I have decided to back-post those stories so people can keep straight what happened when. I imagine it would get pretty confusing if one post says I’m stuck here writing papers and the next says I’ve been off gallivanting across the savannah riding sidesaddle on the back of a bicycle. So check October for field stories. Love you all!

Amanda

www.wherethehellismatt.com

But I have something to say today:
It snowed! Not much, but it was a start. The day began windy and cold with a steel gray sky. Then mid-afternoon, little balls of ice began to mix in with the gusts of wind. By dinner time, they were falling thick enough to cover grass, sidewalks, and students who were rushing to get inside. I went out. I like to be part of the significant weather occurrences of the year and snow – even pellet-like snow – is by no means an exception.

So yes it’s cold, but I have hope that this winter the cold won’t be for nothing. I’m hoping for foot upon foot of snow so I can sled and ski and make all the snowmen I want. Because that’s the joy of winter. Plus, I’m spending January up north and I want it to be a winter wonderland.

As a side note: I had lunch with an exchange friend from Japan yesterday and learned two things: the Japanese refer to that sparkly snow that glitters as it falls as diamond dust. How ingenious is that?! Spread it around. The second thing was that the Japanese do not have daylight savings. She was thoroughly confused by the concept of repeating/changing time and I was “lucky” enough to have to explain it to her. Try explaining a concept most Americans can’t even keep straight… hahaha. I think she got it though. She understands which way to turn her clock anyway.

Finally, I’ve decided to continue with my CIS major for the time being. I’ve recovered from my momentary panic attack and have found a happy medium between “super scientific” and “useless book knowledge.” I’ve begun my proposal and it so far sounds like a personal interest reflection but I’ll get it under control soon.

i do love to read poetry for the way it feels coming out of my mouth. if it’s a good poem the words just fit. they make shapes in my mouth and fall gently from my lips. i had no idea it sounded that way too. next time you see a poem, read it aloud and listen. too often a poem gets read but not spoken and half its beauty is lost.

the poem i read (a masterpiece if you ask me):

Old Australian Ways
Andrew ‘Banjo’ Patterson

The London lights are far abeam
Behind a bank of cloud,
Along the shore the gaslights gleam,
The gale is piping loud;
And down the Channel, groping blind,
We drive her through the haze
Towards the land we left behind –
The good old land of `never mind’,
And old Australian ways.

The narrow ways of English folk
Are not for such as we;
They bear the long-accustomed yoke
Of staid conservancy:
But all our roads are new and strange,
And through our blood there runs
The vagabonding love of change
That drove us westward of the range
And westward of the suns.

The city folk go to and fro
Behind a prison’s bars,
They never feel the breezes blow
And never see the stars;
They never hear in blossomed trees
The music low and sweet
Of wild birds making melodies,
Nor catch the little laughing breeze
That whispers in the wheat.

Our fathers came of roving stock
That could not fixed abide:
And we have followed field and flock
Since e’er we learnt to ride;
By miner’s camp and shearing shed,
In land of heat and drought,
We followed where our fortunes led,
With fortune always on ahead
And always further out.

The wind is in the barley-grass,
The wattles are in bloom;
The breezes greet us as they pass
With honey-sweet perfume;
The parakeets go screaming by
With flash of golden wing,
And from the swamp the wild-ducks cry
Their long-drawn note of revelry,
Rejoicing at the Spring.

So throw the weary pen aside
And let the papers rest,
For we must saddle up and ride
Towards the blue hill’s breast;
And we must travel far and fast
Across their rugged maze,
To find the Spring of Youth at last,
And call back from the buried past
The old Australian ways.

When Clancy took the drover’s track
In years of long ago,
He drifted to the outer back
Beyond the Overflow;
By rolling plain and rocky shelf,
With stockwhip in his hand,
He reached at last, oh lucky elf,
The Town of Come-and-help-yourself
In Rough-and-ready Land.

And if it be that you would know
The tracks he used to ride,
Then you must saddle up and go
Beyond the Queensland side –
Beyond the reach of rule or law,
To ride the long day through,
In Nature’s homestead — filled with awe
You then might see what Clancy saw
And know what Clancy knew.

Who’s Clancy? Read Clancy of the Overflow by Banjo. I promise it’s good too.

We started with a tour of the Minnesota Center for Photography (MCP) and time to view the McKnight show they have on display at the moment. It’s a show featuring four Twin Cities-based photographers who had been given grants in 2006 to put this show together. They had very diverse styles and it was interesting to see. One of them, Angela Strassheim, actually works for Carleton as well and some of the photographs she included in the exhibit were taken at Carleton. The show ends October 7th but if you can get there, I’d go. I also quite liked Eric William Carroll’s Sunburn which was also up and closes with the McKnight show Oct. 7th.

For the second half of the evening we went to the MIA and MCAD. At MCAD, we attended a seminar speech by Fazal Sheikh. Fazal Sheikh is an intriguing and inspiring human being to say the least. As his website states,

“Fazal Sheikh is an artist-activist who uses photography to create a sustained portrait of different communities around the world, addressing their beliefs and traditions, as well as their political and economic problems. By establishing a context of respect and understanding, his photographs demand we learn more about the people in them and about the circumstances in which they live.”

Fazal’s a Kenyan-American photographer, born and raised in New York and graduate of Princeton University. After he graduated he decided to travel to Northern Pakistan and the Afghan border to reconnect with his heritage – specifically the life his grandfather (who he’s named after but never knew) lived. Sheikh had intended only to photograph the places where his grandfather had lived but when he arrived, many Afghani refugees were crossing the Pakistani border. Fazal made the choice to visit the refugee camps instead. He immediately connected with the people in the camps and has been working to photograph and connect with people in those same conditions all over the world. If you have time, visit his website. He is an amazing photographer and his books (which you can view online) reflect his hard work to not only take pictures but to record stories as well. He truly was a captivating speaker.

The presentation went longer than expected so we didn’t get much time to view the exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts (MIA) that we had come to see, but we walked through it and through the photography galleries. I found some amazing photography by Henri Cartier Bresson and another man, an American, whose name I can’t remember and who I cannot find on their website. I’ll find him though… sometime. The exhibit we went to see was in the Minnesota Artists Gallery and in two parts: I Will Follow You into the Dark and War Mediated. I really didn’t get time to take it all in but I saw some of the War Mediated work and didn’t like it (except for Megan Vossler’s graphite drawings which I found fascinating). I guess one reason I didn’t like the others’ work would be my aversion to anything army/war but I also didn’t think any of the art was particularly stunning. The paintings in I Will Follow You into the Dark drew my eye more but I never got to see them so I’m not sure. Check it out if you want. The exhibit is up through October 28th and the MIA is free to the public. (So is the MCP in case you were wondering.)

Just to be complete, I’ll add that MCAD (Minneapolis College of Art and Design) has a show up in their main lobby about the grotesque in art. Some of it was interesting…

And that’s about it. No doubt you noticed this blog is peppered with links to the different museums and shows.  Here are links to all the artists I mentioned:

MCP:

Kristine Heykants (McKnight)
Orin Rutchick (McKnight)
Mickey Smith (McKnight)
Angela Strassheim (McKnight)
Eric William Carroll (Sunburn)

MCAD and MIA:

Fazal Sheikh (who spoke)
Henri Cartier Bresson
Megan Rye (I Will Follow You into the Dark)
Camille Gage (War Mediated)
Justin Newhall (War Mediated)
Megan Vossler (War Mediated)

Enjoy!