luang prabang (laos)

a gilded pagoda alongside a bend in the mekong river

peaceful mountain sunset...

...diligently captured by a frenzied gaggle of other point-and-shooters

on a bike ride, i came upon this nice view of town from a mountain pass

here is the street where i stayed for the first 3 nights
(i had to move because of babies and ringtones)

riverside gardening, with stylish hat

monks out for a stroll

kuang si falls (laos)

numerous falls and turquoise pools in a jungle...

(throngs of tourists, not pictured)

ahhh...

the colors continue to boggle my mind...why so blue?

tuol sleng genocide museum

it's a bizarre thing to have now visited two countries where an unimaginable genocide was perpetrated so recently. tuol sleng is a former prison in phnom penh where khmer rouge officials interrogated, tortured, and killed their captives. today it is a museum dedicated to telling the story of the brutal years of oppression suffered under pol pot and the khmer rouge.

prison cells, barely wide enough for my shoulders

a torture cell for those accused of leading opposition efforts against pol pot

ancient temples (siem reap, cambodia)

the enormous, amazing angkor wat.
angkor wat is the most famous temple in the region, which
is home to dozens of ancient temples in varying degrees of ruin.
i imagine one could spend weeks here and not see it all.

a "finger dancer", one of countless etchings in the stone

one of more than 200 stone faces at the temple bayon, in angkor thom

a headless statue in preah khan
(all the statues with heads still in tact have been moved to museums)

nature vying to reclaim the east gate of ta som...

...as well as this inner chamber of ta prohm

banteay srey is small in comparison to other temples in the area, and remarkably well preserved
(with evident assistance from conservationists)

the carvings here are perhaps more intricate than those of any other temple...

...with a level of depth and detail that is hard to fathom

kbal spean is a series of carvings along a river in some nearby hills

known as "the river of a thousand lingas", kbal spean features, well,
thousands of stone phallic symbols called "lingas"

the lingas lead to a waterfall...

...where some local kids were cooling off

we ended our three-day templing spree at phnom bok, a ruined temple atop a large hill
with an impressive view of the surrounding countryside

cambodian countryside

cycling some timber...

...perhaps to build a house like this one.
i thought it was interesting how most houses in rural areas here are built on stilts.
it obviously helps during times of high water, but i've been told the design
helps keep the house cool - a useful thing in this muggy climate.

a 2009 bush holiday

very common traditional housing in busia, near lake victoria

most people in uganda have a place where they live and work, though it is almost always different from their village "home." in fact, given the proximity of these villages homes to the nearest employment opportunity, such a distinction is unavoidable. so whenever you ask someone where he/she is from, you should specify what you mean - do you want to know where they live or where their village is?

when the christmas holiday approaches, people begin migrating back to their village homes, where they will find children, grandparents, spouses, and siblings. transport prices double and in some cases triple as people shift from one part of the country to another. kampala (uganda's only major transport hub) slows to a frustrating crawl amidst choking throngs of pedestrians and trapped vehicles under an unusually thick haze of pollution. i had to travel through kampala several days before christmas last year and swore i'd never do it again. it is complete and utter madness - kind of like a giant, filthy mall.

this year, i happily accepted several invitations to visit friends of mine at their village homes, staying far away from the capital city and relying almost exclusively on the kindness and curiosity of several ugandan strangers who picked me up along the road...

* * *

neighbor's compound is situated in the midst of several enormous mango trees, around which sit five circular huts. the dwellings are modestly constructed out of crumbling, exposed brick and are more or less half-finished. i believe they might appear quite differently if this were the site of their original home, a permanent place built up over many years. but, sadly, her family was forced to flee from that established setting during "the insurgency" in 1989 during which soldiers commandeered the area, cutting down trees, destroying houses, looting the place and stripping it of all practical value. when neighbor came back more than a decade later, there was nothing left. her family decided to start over in a new location less than a kilometer away, which is where i visited.

a mango tree is rather impressive, like a wide, dense, towering cloud of leaves and branches whose ceiling is conveniently about six feet off the ground. it serves as a great shelter and allows most people (excluding yours truly) to walk comfortably underneath. to have one of these trees in your family's compound, let alone three, is a blessing, especially when they are producing. i was given a bowl of five ripe, juicy mangoes after lunch, which i enjoyed thoroughly. actually, i've eaten so many in the last couple weeks that my lips are raw.

it was coming to dusk as we sat drinking hot cocoa from mismatched mugs under one of the three mango trees, which had a pile of firewood - for cooking - stacked at its base. i almost didn't notice the hen as it approached, but my curiosity piqued when it hopped up from one piece of firewood to another until it was halfway up the tree trunk. once there, it stopped, looking befuddled. i asked my neighbor what was going on and she told me, very matter-of-factly that the chickens were getting ready for bed. they have been trained to sleep in trees! i think it's actually a regional phenomenon for this to happen and some chickens do it instinctively - up in the limbs, they are safe from predators and less prone to disease. as an added bonus for me, it's hilarious!

within minutes of my question, i saw a whole gaggle of hens climbing the mango tree on the opposite edge of the compound. one by one, they hopped up into its branches not to be seen again until morning. all were safely nestled above except for the rooster, who is apparently too heavy to hop to such a height on his own. but he's not left to his own devices on the ground; one of the (five) wives of the compound picked him up, walked him very calmly over to the edge of the tree's canopy, did a full-body wind-up, and threw him full-force into the mango tree! the rooster squawked and flapped and unsteadily came to rest amid his leafy evening surroundings. good night, delicious bird.

from a clear patch of night sky a half-moon was shining, the light of which was enough to illuminate the compound and allow us to do most of what we needed without a lantern. nights like these are neighbor's favorite; she can sit outside until very late, conversing with others and still able to observe the entire village. on this evening, as our yawning grew more and more contagious, we noticed dark storm clouds organizing themselves in the moon's glow from the opposite direction.

i entered one of the huts, which i shared on this night with the head of the compound and husband to the five wives. we settled in and, moments after we laid down, we could hear the first fat, heavy drops of what promised to be a solid rainfall. after several false starts, the sky opened up on our iron sheets, increasing in intensity until it was deafening. despite its alarming volume, this sound can be a very relaxing thing, conjuring a feeling similar to that of being warm in bed while cold winds are howling outside. just knowing that the crazy outside cannot touch the cozy inside amplifies this comfort. i was consciously appreciating this when i thought i felt something hit my leg... then my arm... and then my eyelid. the weather was no longer being held at bay by our roof - it had forced its way in and began raining onto my bed! i was too tired to react (nothing could be done, nothing at all) so i just pulled my sheet up and tried to settle in the dry spots. it was likely a wind-related issue, because my indoor rain stopped after only about ten minutes while the outdoor rain continued long after i fell asleep.

over a dinner of freshly roasted chicken earlier in the evening (the only bird who didn't make it up into the tree that night), i was informed of various "chicken customs" among the tribes of uganda. the common thread among all of them is that a chicken must be slaughtered for a visitor. but beyond that we find deviations: some cultures force the visitor(s) to eat the entire bird on his/her/their own while other cultures send the visitor away with a live chicken and any remaining cooked chicken from the meal. in the particular region of uganda i was visiting, the hosts customarily join the visitor(s) in the meal (which i think is a healthy practice) and then send a live chicken with the visitor when they go. the following day, i had the pleasure of carrying a living, pooping chicken on my 3 hour journey home, along with a guitar and a backpack stuffed with sweet potatoes, maize, freshly picked oranges, and an untouched change of clothes.

* * *

$25 per person bought each of my friends 12.5 kilos of meat this year

yes, christmas in uganda is a pretty big deal. as one friend said, people begin planning (saving) for "their christmas" from the first of january. it is a time for people to come together...to come together and eat meat. groups of friends and colleagues pool resources and pay their share slowly, bit by bit, throughout the year to save enough money for a cow/bull. our college staff had organized such a group and held their slaughtering party on the 23rd. music blared from a boom-box while the meat was cut, weighed, and distributed in the blazing midday sun. on this day, it turned out that each $25 share bought 12.5 kilograms of beef for the share owner to carry home to his/her family. as a lucky bystander at the slaughtering party who grilled up four extraordinarily fresh charity steaks on the 23rd and as a guest at two of the homes, i had more than my fill of beef this holiday season. moving through villages on the road to my counterpart's home, he said (just as i was thinking the very same thing myself): "these festivities are smelly, as you can see..." it was in the air, the smell of raw, not-so-fresh-anymore meat. needless to say, by the end of it all i was just craving an apple and a celery stalk.

season's greetings, phonetically speaking

two years is long, but not forever

somehow, there is only one page left on the 2009 calendar mom made for me last year and i have a feeling it's not gonna last long; i'm caught in one of those pockets where time just runs like mad. our students finished their final exams today and head home tomorrow morning for the long holiday. while i welcome the peace and quiet this change will bring, i'm less excited about the implications. the school year is now over and following soon after is my peace corps service. between now and january 14th, i'll be tying up the loose ends of all my projects and will hopefully be able to post something meaningful about what has been going on recently. i'm really pleased with how things are winding up and couldn't be more grateful for this opportunity i've had here. more to come soon...

chwarino?!

watedo nangin (we're cooking clothes!)

there is a thing i usually say to people whenever i'm complimented on my local language skills: "afwonjere moth moth; kis ndelo amedo wach achiel..." which basically means, "i'm learning slowly, each day i add one word." this, sadly, is a lie. i have not consistently dedicated the time needed to advance my vocabulary on a daily basis, but this stock saying serves well in response to random praise from strangers. keep in mind, this praise is often triggered by the simplest things, like greeting, which i have been doing since week one.

having said all that, i love picking up new words in the language and try to seize every opportunity i can. i recently learned an obscure and somewhat depressing word: chwarino (bed bugs). i wish i could say i had no particular reason to ask, but i suspected them of having infiltrated my tiny ugandan home. i had been waking up fairly often with bites in suspicious patterns and finally decided to put my foam mattress under the sun. having never seen a bed bug before, i wasn't sure what to look for, but i did notice some conspicuous insect activity on the underside of the mattress. not certain whether they traveled outside with the foam or hopped on once it was under the sun, i chose to err on the side of caution. i've heard the horror stories and do not want to become another victim!

i quickly organized an extermination plan, which included a college maintenance staff member applying chemicals to my bed and wooden furniture on a tuesday. as we discussed our plan of attack, i jumped at the chance to employ some clever dhopadhola:

chwarino tye i ot paran...jorach maaa.
(bedbugs are in my house. they are so bad.)

wanyalo neko chwarino saw'adi?
(we are able to kill bedbugs at what time?)

as it turned out, 3pm was a good time. to give our poison a chance to dissipate afterward, i spent a couple nights in tororo town, 5km away - i had hoped the body count would be high but was not willing to be among the dead. the next step (which i grossly underestimated) was to come back home thursday morning and boil my clothes. to do so, i needed to first explain myself and request a big saucepan from the cooking staff upon my return:

tich aryo, waketho yath i kitanda paran.
(on tuesday, we put poison on my bed frame.)

konon, amito moro pii i sapik ma dwong t'atedo nangin jie.
(today i want to boil water in a big saucepan and cook all my clothes.)

i am by no means a dhopadhola specialist, but i love feeling conversational...especially when it allows me to say ridiculous things. in this case, i got to say such things while moving almost completely out of my house and then back in again over the course of a day. several students thankfully came to my aid in the boiling and poison-blasting effort. it's hard to say what effect this may ultimately have on the suspected invaders, but it was a pretty amusing and exhausting experience. so far so good - i've been sleeping soundly and bite-free. but just typing that makes me feel like i'm foolishly tempting the chwarino gods...

the inexplicable dismissal of our country director

our peace corps post in uganda was thriving under the direction of larry brown, someone who is sincerely concerned about the safety, support, and effectiveness of each and every volunteer in the field. he is the best example i can imagine of a country director acting in the best interest of volunteers in the country he was serving. it certainly felt like he was indeed here to serve us. larry understood his reason for being here as a commitment to support each and every volunteer living and working in uganda and, by doing so, better serve the communities in which we live. put quite simply, he was an enthusiastic, outspoken advocate for us.

it was energizing to have an administration encourage us and pledge support so seriously. under larry's leadership, we felt empowered. not in a rebellious way, but in a positive way, we were urged to take personal responsibility and be proactive. he believed, quite correctly, that this post wouldn’t exist without the volunteers. larry gave us a voice, compelling us to personally invest in the future value of peace corps uganda. in my opinion, this is exactly the role a country director should play.

it is extremely disappointing to know that his efforts were not only ignored by those in a higher position, but that they may have ultimately lead to his termination. if the peace corps administration in washington does not exist for the purpose of supporting posts, volunteers, and the communities in which we live and work, then what purpose does it serve? i cannot imagine. but i do know that the decision to remove larry brown from his position as country director was not made in the interest of supporting myself and my fellow volunteers here in uganda. in fact, it has been a significant disservice to us.

although there has been a fair amount of speculation about larry brown’s removal, we volunteers have received absolutely no official explanation for the decision. perhaps more disturbingly, for three weeks we had not received a single piece of correspondence from peace corps administration, washington or otherwise, informing us that any decision was made at all. we all learned of the momentous development through a haphazard string of volunteer-to-volunteer cell phone calls, text messages, and speculative emails. as i write this, my country director has left uganda for his home in the us, and no one knows why. all signs on the ground suggest that the situation was severely mishandled and should be investigated.

i am confused and saddened by the departure of such an energetic and inspirational country director and disappointed in those who made this bewildering decision. the responsible person or group of people has clearly lost sight of the peace corps agency’s purpose – to act in the best interest of volunteers serving worldwide, and the communities in which we live. peace corps was created for that purpose and in this case i feel that it has failed. we deserve better.

transportation III: two wheels go a long way

carrying what... local brew? paint? water? petrol?
my money is on the brew :)

it must have been a huge revolution when bicycles first reached tororo (around 1980 by some local accounts). it is difficult enough for me to imagine this area without the now ubiquitous motorcycles, but without bicycles? it would be an almost unrecognizable place. a significant portion of uganda's population gets around on two wheels these days; you can find bicycles, motorcycles, and their taxi incarnations (bodas) in even the smallest village trading centers.

a common means of generating income - the bicycle taxi
(note: a real bicycle taxi has a colorful, padded back seat...with tassels)

in addition to their drivers, bicycles and motorcycles are often seen carrying a mind-boggling variety of cargo, including: humans (several times, i've seen six people on one motorcycle), crates of soda and beer bottles (both full and empty), jerrycans of pretty much anything, enormous sacks of grain or charcoal, numerous bunches of green bananas, firewood, live animals (snorting pigs, wailing goats, clucking chickens, stupid turkeys who defecate on my veranda), less road-worthy bicycles on their way to be repaired, bed frames, couches, coffins, even a merchant's entire inventory displayed in a flimsy, ten-foot-high, plywood kiosk. it's rather incredible; if something needs to be transported, odds are good that it can be moved on two wheels. personally, i have been adventurous enough to strap my backpack, my guitar, and a jerrycan to my bike. but that's child's play here.

a shoe merchant transports his wares through mukono
(how does this work?!?!)
(note the driver's winter attire...it's 85 degrees!)

despite all these fancy, two-wheeled options, when it comes to moving around in uganda, nothing is cheaper or more readily available than your own two feet. this is how people got around for centuries; the adoption of wheels as a daily means of transportation for the masses has been a surprisingly recent development. even today you will find people walking prodigious distances to and from the nearest town, health center, a burial, or a workshop, simply because it is a free and reliable means of transport. and as with most things here, time is not often a big concern. maybe someday, as western influences and transport options permeate ugandan culture, the notion of "african time" may lose some of its authority. but this much is clear: for the slowly growing number of people with a little disposable income and/or a busy schedule, the quicker, two-wheeled alternatives are gradually becoming "the new feet."

19-0! perfect season!

it makes sense. every year, two teams face off for the chance to be called super bowl champs. and every year, one of them emerges victorious from the fray, immediately and miraculously wearing t-shirts (so soon??) announcing their superiority to the world. logistically baffling, you say? indeed! but each year, as most people know, t-shirts are printed for both the winning and losing teams before the game is even played. then, whenever the winning team is known, its players can immediately be given their championship shirts. no waiting, no hassle, no messy clean-up. that is, unless you consider cleaning up after all those loser t-shirts. they cannot possibly be permitted to see the light of day and confuse the issue of who's really the best of the best. no, those loser shirts must be packed, sealed, and shipped to the deepest, most remote location in the world where they'll never be seen by an NFL fan. a place like kitgum, uganda, for instance.

while eating lunch one day on a recent trip to northern uganda, my friend, lisandro, noticed a super bowl champions t-shirt. as peace corps volunteers here, we're tuned to a slightly different frequency; things like this excite us and make us look more closely. lisandro called the young man over to get a better look at his shirt and found that, yes, it really was a loser shirt! after two years of searching, we had finally laid eyes on one! and it's not just any loser shirt, but a patriots "perfect 19-0 season" from super bowl 42. in reality of course, they lost the game and their perfect season to the giants that year. subsequently, this beautiful, xxl t-shirt which was so eager to broadcast that piece of history from the chest of a victorious lineman, was sent to a village in northern uganda only to be bought off the back of its owner for $2 by a giddy volunteer who promises to wear it non-stop the next time he goes to boston. good eye, lisandro, good eye.

as if...

close of service conference

i am reclined on the veranda of a luxury bungalow watching the sun set behind a canopy of trees along the eastern bank of the nile river in jinja, while monkeys meander casually across a closely-cropped lawn in the low evening light to collect leaves from the landscaped foliage surrounding the buildings and pathways of this resort compound. it is a moment both uncommonly peaceful and frustrating, unfolding and ending of its own accord whether i'm ready or not.

this is my close of service conference for peace corps. the fifteen or so incredible and inspiring volunteers in attendance are being generously (and deservedly) put up for a few days in a luxury resort which would otherwise be well beyond the reach of our modest budget. the food has been outstanding, the atmosphere relaxed, and the mood optimistic if not a little apprehensive. two years in a developing country sounds like a long time, but it is not forever; our service here is winding down and it is now time to look forward to whatever may come next.

of course, this is not at all how i expected to reach this point and there are still numerous challenges to face before i say goodbye to our beautiful host country. if all had gone according to plan, i would have been in this position six months ago, alongside the stellar volunteers who went through every day of training with me way back in march of 2007. but things do not always go according to plan. i got sick and was sent home to the usa early in my service as a volunteer. i questioned the wisdom of fighting to come back to a place where i had encountered such misfortune and worried that something bad might happen to me again should i return. i grew weary of the reinstatement process, which took months longer than expected; i was literally two days from giving up entirely and moving on when i was finally cleared to be a peace corps volunteer in uganda once again. exhausted, anxious, and uncertain, i was thankfully (in hindsight) willing enough to take advantage of the second chance i had been given.

the purpose of this close of service conference is to help peace corps volunteers reflect on their service to date and make a work plan for their few remaining months in country. yes, there are projects to wrap up and administrative loose ends to tie, but there is also an intimidating set of cultural concerns to manage as we begin the process of easing out of our communities, both materially and socially. this will not be anything like moving out of my apartment in baltimore and i am thankful for the guidance we've been given and the time i now have to make a responsible plan.

the perspective i have gained in the last several months has been invaluable. i witnessed dozens of my colleagues go through the process of saying goodbye to their friends and communities as they close their service and move on to exciting travel adventures and, in some cases, uncertain futures. i am acutely aware of the fact i am present here and now...but will not be forever. in fewer than six months, i'll likely be packing my bags to leave uganda indefinitely. this time will pass on its own, completely independent of my will; all i can do is stay true to the promises i have made to myself and my community and consciously appreciate how lucky, blessed, and extremely proud i feel to be in the position i'm in. none of this has been particularly easy, but the rewards have been satisfying and rich beyond expectation.

as the glow fades to gloaming, i stroll down the walkway on my way to one last delicious dinner before packing my bags and mentally preparing for all of the work waiting for me at site. tomorrow will be an adjustment, as i say goodbye to these several days in a luxurious fantasy land and re-enter the real world of work and struggle, all the while respecting the uncertainty of what comes after all this...which will undoubtedly be a much bigger and jarring transition.