Happy New Year!

You may not have realized it, but it's 2014, y'all.

My circadian rhythm is all messed up. Well, not my circadian rhythm - that's my body's 24-hour cycle. To be fair, that does get messed up pretty regularly though - just because, whenever possible, David and I flee for foreign shores.

All in the last 8 months or so... if you want jobs like ours, get in touch! We're hiring!

Side bar: This reminds me of one of my all-time favorite songs: Pamela Brown. I really like the Leo Kottke version, which has a folksy feel, but the original, twangier Tom T. Hall version ain't too shabby either. You should you-tube it, mainly for verse 2:

I've seen the lights of cities and I've been inside their doors / 

Sailed to foreign countries and walked upon their shores /

I guess the guy she married was the best part of my luck / 

She dug him cause he drove a pickup truck.

You'll have to go listen to the song to get the rest of that little delight. Anyway.

So, it's not my circadian rhythm this time. It's like my "circ-annum" rhythm or something. All across America, high school seniors are lining up to walk across stages into what, for many of them, will be the best summer ever. Days are getting longer, grills are being wheeled out of storage, gardens are being planted, and weekend schedules are filling up with festival dates, outdoor concerts, cookouts, and bike rides.

In painful contrast, I'm shivering. Literally shivering. Leaves are covering the ground and I've spent the last two weekends in sweaters and boots working on a Christmas knitting project. Last night, I started a puzzle while my dinner - soup - simmered on the stove and I worked on my second cup of tea.

We're less than 8 degrees off the equator, but in the most confusing direction - South. I never realized the weather had such a big effect on me - but I am fully in winter-mode. Of course, if any of my former ilk (Ohioans) visited, they'd laugh. Despite the smattering of leaves on the ground, the bougainvillea is still in full bloom and we're tropical enough that there are limes fruiting on the trees in the backyard of our office as I type this.

But, still.  I'm all out of sorts.

It doesn't help my screwy sense of time that, for our purposes, it is 2014. Monday was basically our New Year's Celebration. We - and by "we", I mean the 1,147 farmers we served during the 2013 harvest - met our payment deadline.* So, it's on to 2014! We're diving head first into enrollment and putting our focus on expanding our services to (likely) more than double the 2013 headcount.

Anyway. My New Year's Resolution: buy more sweaters.  Seriously guys, I'm really chilly.

*And this is why my job is amazing - we're talking about some of the poorest people in the world and what did they do?  This year, 1,147 of them planted what, for many, will be the best harvest of their lives and they all paid for it - in full - by the deadline.  That's how poor people grow their way out of poverty and into a better life.  Cool, right?  If you agree, let me know -- we're hiring!

It's just that I've been busy.

My mom's been bugging me to write more on my blog.  She's even lobbied for a few particular stories.

I still can't tell you about the time that I applied for my Kenyan driver's license.  I'm saving that little gem for my tell-all memoir: "Eggs in the Engine Block."

I also can't claim to have personally lived the story that's inspired my memoir's winning title, but since I think it's a pretty good representation of the optimism, resourcefulness, and unintentional hilarity of the residents of East Africa, I'll probably pretend that it is my story.  I'm looking forward to being exposed as a fraud on Oprah.  But again, you'll have to wait for the memoir.

Given that those two are staying in my back pocket for now, my mom thought I should tell the story behind this:

Schistosomiasis anyone?

But, honestly, what's to tell?  I paid for a ticket and a kayak outfitter hooked me up with some safety gear before we set off.  That's not to say that careening down the Nile isn't a total baller way to spend a Friday, but I'm not sure there's all that much to share, really.

It just turns out that launching a country operation takes up a lot of time.  I've also been busily trying to check things off the old 30 Before 30 list, which makes for some nice life accomplishments, but not so many write-up-able moments.  Since my last update, I've finished a bunch of books* from the hundred-best list I'm working on (22 months and 60ish books remain...oy).  I've also gone from my couch to a 5k and am currently trying to kick that up a notch (10k here we come) though I've been side-lined in the last week by a sick coach.**

So, it's not that I've given up on this blog... it's just that I've been busy.


* The Beautiful and Damned; LOTR: The Fellowship of the Ring; On the Road; LOTR: The Two Towers; To the Lighthouse; Naked Lunch; My Antonia; Rabbit, Run; The Jungle.  Need a recommendation?  I feel good about only around half of these, so ask first.

** David had the flu, but not to worry.  He's on the mend.

Tutaonana, Kenya!

Today, I'm bidding adieu to my erstwhile home.  In about 6 hours, I'll be on a plane destined to join David in what will be our third home, third country, and third hemisphere.  Before I go though, I want to take a minute to appreciate and remember the things I'll miss now that I'm moving on.

Of course, I'll miss my Coca-Cola stand only half-a-block away (and the "coke-walks" that Team Sensible took during sports hour).  I'll miss Taco Tuesdays and whenever it was Jake or Jennie's turn to cook on Thursdays.  I'll miss my 10-minute walk to work and the sad donkey stationed on my walk home.  I'll miss living with my roommate - from whom I learned so much: about England (Fanny Pack), about French (Formidable!), about quality television programming (Game of Thrones; Sherlock), and about rational thinking (frozen heads), and who always made me tea just when I thought my head might explode and, better still, who knew just the right time to switch from tea to gin.  I'll miss relatively easy currency conversions (although I might just be a millionaire someday in TZ).  I'll miss the KK guards and the afternoon visits from George.  I'll miss passing through Nairobi on my way anywhere and the Artcaffe trip that inevitably included (yes, I'm heading there next).  I'll miss work too - I'll miss Butere District the most and a couple of really cool staffers at the HQ.  I'll probably even miss Fuppy.

Team Butere ready to serve 12,000 farmers in 2013!

Nevertheless, I'm traveling South.  Just as fast as Kenya Airways can carry me.  I'm excited for lots of reasons, but mainly that I'll get to live with my husband again.  As much as I've enjoyed this foray back into roommie life, I picked who I thought should be my final (and permanent) roommate more than 2 years ago and I'm happy to be returning to him.

So, I ask you now to tilt your globes up slightly,* drag your finger South from Bungoma to a mid-way point on Tanzania and you'll be there with me.  Karibu Iringa!**




* What do you mean you don't have a globe?!  How can you trace the analemma??
** Karibu means "welcome."  Having just set down A Clockwork Orange in the Kenya Airways Departures lounge and still finding "nadsat" confusing despite 6 years of Russian language study, I'm committed to keeping this blog more-or-less intelligible.

Hoorah!

I climbed a mountain.

Pretty much, I just wanted you to know.

For My Kenyan Readers

It's recently come to my attention that I have a Kenyan fan-base.

That's a pretty hefty exaggeration.  In fact, it just turns out that some of my colleagues googled me, leading to a discovery of Zero Degrees South, and subsequently, to several awkward face-to-face interactions designed to let me know that said discovery had been made.  For example, "Good morning, Sarah.  I know what happened last December."  It took me several rounds of, "What? What happened?" before I finally understood.

Anyway.  I've written a couple of times about how living abroad in Kenya can be surprising, funny, weird... and wonderful.  That's run-of-the-mill stuff for someone living in a cross-cultural environment and is a big part of why living overseas is appealing to me.  But, since I've spent time writing about what I find different/new/weird about Kenya, I figure, all's fair: I should share a few facts about my homeland that might surprise Mr. Kweyuh or anyone else who may have discovered this site.

1. You already know that Americans like to keep dogs as pets instead of purely for guarding the house. But, you may not have known: dogs are often allowed to sleep in the same bed as their owners.

2. In America, we like to pretend that things are more equal (and they almost certainly are) between the sexes.  Men can cook; women can drive.  Men can stay home with the kids while women go to work with no social repercussions.  But, the truth is: if left to their own devices (i.e. no mothers, girlfriends, sisters, etc.), all bachelors in both countries are still likely to cook instant noodles for every meal.

3. In the summertime, most of us take our tea ice cold with no sugar and no milk.

4. We don't have roundabouts on our roads.  As a result, we don't know how to use them and that may account for any panicking you might have seen an mzungu driver undergo while driving in Kenyan cities.

5. Most Americans don't farm.  At all.  They might have a small garden plot of tomatoes, but almost nobody grows the food they eat.  It's not even like an "I live in Nairobi but my family has 3 acres back home" things.  That's partly because, for the most part, we don't have historic homelands like Kenyans do (or, if we do, they're in Europe, Asia, Latin America, or Africa and we haven't had contact with that branch of the family in a hundred - or 2 or 3 hundred - years).

6. That brings me to another point: lots of Americans don't know what "tribe" they're a part of.  Or, they only know part of it.  I claim to be Dutch heritage but my grandparents (and great grandparents) were German, English, and French too.

7. We learn to drive when we're 15 and licensed when we're 16.  In some places kids can drive as young as 14!  So, if you're ever in the farm states in the middle of my country - watch out! :-)

8. The average age of marriage in America is 25 for women and 27 for men.  The average age of the mother at first birth is 25.6.  So, save your lectures.  I'm not as old or as weird as you think.

9. We have winter.  And it's cold.  I know you think that it's cold in the rainy season when it gets down to like 13 degrees (55 Fahrenheit), but for us, that's a beautiful day.  Where I'm from, it gets so cold that rain literally freezes when it hits the ground.  Sometimes colder.

10. We call football "soccer."  And we don't care about it.  Instead, we go crazy for American Football, which, in truth, has nothing to do with feet outside of occasional running.  It's played primarily by throwing and catching a weirdly shaped ball... with your hands.

Hope you've learned something and gotten a good laugh.  And for my American readers - well, there you have it.  We're weird/strange/different too.  Ain't it grand?

It's true.  He's been on my bed.
Photo Credit: George

Hemingway is Depressing (and Other News)

David moved away at the beginning of this summer.  He didn't exactly abandon me.  Not exactly.  He's been transferred to Tanzania - give it a few months and Zero Degrees South will be making its debut as Almost Eight Degrees South.

Anyway.  In the meantime, I've been forced to find new ways to occupy my non-work time - ways that don't include pestering him.

From this was born a rather cliche "30 Before 30" list (I've got a little more than 2 years before I hit the big 3-0).  I googled it.  I google just about everything that pops in my mind - and that's how I know for sure it's cliche.  There are a ton of these.  From what I can tell, peoples' lists range from the utterly self-indulgent (get glamour shots!), to travel-based (Paris est tres chic!), to self-improvement (learn to forgive!), to education (speak French!).  So, I made my list accordingly, although hopefully my goals are slightly less saccharine than the average.  I'm not going to share my list, because if I'm anything like the rest of the 30 Before 30 blogosphere, that would mean you'd have to read a few "Dear Diary" moments and then, let's face it, you wouldn't be back... even if this became 89 Degrees South (although that would be foolish, because who wouldn't want to read about someone living there?!)

That's how I discovered that Hemingway is depressing.  I googled him.  (Googling isn't on the list... reading is.)  He committed suicide in my neighbor's hometown.  Consequently, she attended Hemingway Elementary.  I feel like I keep leading you astray - Hemingway's life was depressing, but again, I'm referring to his books.

I'll give you the other news in headlines (extended headlines because concision is not my strong suit...)

• It's now been a year since we discovered that Pickles is kind of a racist.  He can now sit, shake, lay-down, roll-over, and fetch.  He cannot, however, keep from terrorizing compound visitors.

• I am now facing cockroaches as my arch-kitchen-nemesis -- humane captures are no longer a priority.

• My new roommate (following David's abandonment) and I went sailing on hippo-infested waters but were thankfully spared any sightings.  We made the mistake of asking the "boat boy" if anyone had ever been killed.  "Many."  We were already on the water, so there wasn't anything for me to do at that point but continue to bail.  (I did willingly embark on a semi-sinking boat, so you are still right to question my judgment in general.)

• I spotted a semi-aquatic ungulate in a swamp.  It mainly looked like an antelope.  And the swamp like a wetland.  So it wasn't quite as nightmare-inducing as you might think.

• I flew in a 12-seater plane.  I sat right behind the pilot.  So close I could have touched him.  Don't worry... I didn't.  But I could have.

And that's the news that's fit to print.

I checked for leopards first.

On Safari!

So, my parents came to Kenya.  The last time they left the United States, I was 11-years-old, making it more than a decade-and-a-half since they'd experienced any foreign nation.  Back in 1996, they had taken my brother and me to Switzerland.  I'm not saying Swiss culture isn't really interesting, unique, or different.  But, I am saying that it's clean.  And cleanliness counts.

I intended on easing my parents into Kenya in a variety of ways: we were going to start off staying in one of these fancy tented camps and going on safari.  I was going to pick them up at the airport and drive the whole way so everything would be comfortable and affordable.  I bought bottles of water and snacks for what I believed would be a 4- (max 5-) hour drive from Nairobi to the Maasai Mara.  I was all set.

Or so I thought.

...

You saw that coming, didn't you?  I recognize that set-up was not especially clever writing, so I'm going to go ahead and abandon it right here.

The trip was great.  We did have some bumps (literally) along the road to the Mara, but we made it.  We saw just about everything you hope to see on safari (with the exception of leopards, but it's cool... I'm not bitter.)  and we got to stay in a "tent" that was actually a luxury hotel with a private deck to watch the baboons and Vervet monkeys playing along the banks of the Talek River.  It wasn't even that hot.  We did get awfully dusty, but I think we'd be disappointed if we hadn't.  After all, how can you make sense of the hair washing scene in "Out of Africa" if going on safari turns out to be a tidy, dirt-free experience?

Anyhoo.  I kept my eye out for 'funny' incidents to blog about with my parents here.  I was on the look out for cultural faux pas, for food failures, for anything that might make a good story later.  My mom did, at one point, say "Jamba Mary!" instead of "Jambo Mary!" (Hello, Mary!) but, honestly, Mary probably didn't even notice.  For those of you who don't know (and for any Jamba Juice fanatics), "jamba" means "fart."  So, that's kind of a weird thing to want in a beverage.

Otherwise, things went on well.  We boated on Lake Victoria, drank tea on a plantation in Kericho, fed giraffes, and watched farmer recruitment (I had to take them to at least one work function).  It was fantastic.

My parents are stopping over in Switzerland now on their way home, probably brushing some red dust off of their suitcases onto the shining streets of Zurich... probably to the horror of their European brethren.

And I'm back at work.  So, there you have it.

For some reason, it makes me really happy that this was erected by the Lion's Club.