By Leah
Even in countries where English is spoken, I find it really helpful to learn the local form.
In Ethiopia recently, I needed a disposable cup from an English-speaking hotel maid. First, I asked for a plastic cup. I got a quizzical look, so I asked for a paper cup. She still didn't know what to do with my request so I asked for a disposable cup and a few unsuccessful minutes later found myself pantomiming using the cup then throwing it away. Me: "You know, you drink the liquid and then you throw it in the trash..." (insert wild gesticulations involving fictional water and a wastebasket).
Finally she says, "Madame, do you need a use-and-throw cup?" Me: Ah, yes! That's exactly what I need." She didn't have one, but when I asked later in the hotel restaurant "Do you have a use-and-throw cup?" they immediately knew what I needed and handed it over.
I've learned to use "taxi" exclusively, and not "cab."I think cab means something else, but I've yet to find out what- I just gather as much from the wary glances that result from asking "can I get a cab?"
In Kenya, they say "the way forward" for "next steps" which sounds dramatic to my ear, but is useful terminology in business meetings.
It's also useful to know the term for "crosswalk" as you strain to hear where your driver wants to meet you at the chaotic airport. We are in Africa, so naturally the term for white stripes on pavement is "zebra crossing."
Yesterday, when asked "How are you?" I tried out the local English and said "I am very OK!"
I haven't taken the time to learn Swahili yet, but I'm having fun learning the English.
Thursday 29 September 2011
Monday 26 September 2011
The back of my shirt
By Leah
I'm at an outdoor cafe in Kampala, Uganda. I'm working on my laptop and eating Indian food. And a monkey just pooped all over the back of my shirt.
I'm at an outdoor cafe in Kampala, Uganda. I'm working on my laptop and eating Indian food. And a monkey just pooped all over the back of my shirt.
Sunday 25 September 2011
A Nature Hike in the City
Nairobi, often disparaged for being noisy and polluted, actually has a lot of green space for a big city. We are determined to go on a couple of safaris while we're here, but we were also really happy to find several cheaper options available within 30 minutes of our neighborhood.
Last weekend, we explored the Karura Forest, a small urban forest that's been the subject of several confrontations between conservationists and developers in the past two decades. For now, the conservations have won.
For about $2.50 each, we got into the park and spent a few hours walking through the trees, down to a waterfall, and past some small caves. We noticed a lot of foreign families with small children, and decided it must be a very safe place to hang out.
Here are a few photos of our day, plus one video of a little festival that was happening in the park.
Last weekend, we explored the Karura Forest, a small urban forest that's been the subject of several confrontations between conservationists and developers in the past two decades. For now, the conservations have won.
For about $2.50 each, we got into the park and spent a few hours walking through the trees, down to a waterfall, and past some small caves. We noticed a lot of foreign families with small children, and decided it must be a very safe place to hang out.
Here are a few photos of our day, plus one video of a little festival that was happening in the park.
Tuesday 13 September 2011
The Police
By Leah
At a business meeting today, I met a Kenyan in his 50's who told me the following story about an encounter with the police. He was smiling the whole time, maybe because he knew I would think it was ridiculous, maybe he was embarrassed, or maybe he just has a good sense of humor.
"I was riding in my car and a policeman stopped me. He didn't tell me what I did wrong but he said we must go to the police station. He is the police, so I did what he said. The whole time we were riding in the car, we talked about the elections [the post-election violence of 2007/8]. He told me I was good because I was from the [...] tribe. He said that he wanted to make sure the [...] didn't take power. He kept talking like he was personally going to make sure they didn't take power. I was thinking 'you are the police, you are just supposed to keep order, no matter who is in power.'
Very soon I realized we were not going to the police station- we were simply doing his patrol together. We would stop every 10 minutes or so, and he would pull over a motorist and take a 'little something' [bribe] from them. After three and a half hours on patrol, I asked him if I could please go home. He said 'how much money do you have with you?' I said '1,000 shillings' [about $11]. He took it from me. Then I said to him 'you have used my car and my petrol to do your patrol, and you have made a lot of money today, using me as your driver- look at that stack of bills in your hand. I think I deserve a little something.' After we discussed it, he agreed and gave me 2,000 shillings. So I made a little money that day being a police officer."
At a business meeting today, I met a Kenyan in his 50's who told me the following story about an encounter with the police. He was smiling the whole time, maybe because he knew I would think it was ridiculous, maybe he was embarrassed, or maybe he just has a good sense of humor.
"I was riding in my car and a policeman stopped me. He didn't tell me what I did wrong but he said we must go to the police station. He is the police, so I did what he said. The whole time we were riding in the car, we talked about the elections [the post-election violence of 2007/8]. He told me I was good because I was from the [...] tribe. He said that he wanted to make sure the [...] didn't take power. He kept talking like he was personally going to make sure they didn't take power. I was thinking 'you are the police, you are just supposed to keep order, no matter who is in power.'
Very soon I realized we were not going to the police station- we were simply doing his patrol together. We would stop every 10 minutes or so, and he would pull over a motorist and take a 'little something' [bribe] from them. After three and a half hours on patrol, I asked him if I could please go home. He said 'how much money do you have with you?' I said '1,000 shillings' [about $11]. He took it from me. Then I said to him 'you have used my car and my petrol to do your patrol, and you have made a lot of money today, using me as your driver- look at that stack of bills in your hand. I think I deserve a little something.' After we discussed it, he agreed and gave me 2,000 shillings. So I made a little money that day being a police officer."
Sunday 11 September 2011
September Eleventh
By Leah
Today we remembered the terrorist attacks from the other side of the world. At lunch with our friends from DC, Ian and Erin, we had the "where were you" conversation, and talked a little bit about the ensuing decade of war.
I was in my first month of college, and I'd been gone long enough to feel homesick. My roommate had the news on before the first plane hit, so we were standing in front of the tiny little TV watching when the second plane hit, the news anchor lost composure, and terrorism entered my consciousness for the first time. I was so, so confused that first week, and have never been so homesick.
Today I was a little homesick too, because every year on this day, I've felt a surge of patriotism from knowing that everyone else in my country has a meaningful "where were you" story about that day too.
A little while ago, Steve found a story on CNN about a Kenyan tribe that sent cows (a precious possession) to the U.S. as gifts of condolence for our grief. Steve said "they are really decent people and they know that sometimes you just need to give someone a cow." It's a neat story with great photos- check it out: http://globalpublicsquare.blogs.cnn.com/2011/09/10/remembering-911-an-unexpected-gift-to-america/
Today we remembered the terrorist attacks from the other side of the world. At lunch with our friends from DC, Ian and Erin, we had the "where were you" conversation, and talked a little bit about the ensuing decade of war.
I was in my first month of college, and I'd been gone long enough to feel homesick. My roommate had the news on before the first plane hit, so we were standing in front of the tiny little TV watching when the second plane hit, the news anchor lost composure, and terrorism entered my consciousness for the first time. I was so, so confused that first week, and have never been so homesick.
Today I was a little homesick too, because every year on this day, I've felt a surge of patriotism from knowing that everyone else in my country has a meaningful "where were you" story about that day too.
A little while ago, Steve found a story on CNN about a Kenyan tribe that sent cows (a precious possession) to the U.S. as gifts of condolence for our grief. Steve said "they are really decent people and they know that sometimes you just need to give someone a cow." It's a neat story with great photos- check it out: http://globalpublicsquare.blogs.cnn.com/2011/09/10/remembering-911-an-unexpected-gift-to-america/
Friday 9 September 2011
Life Before Nairobi
A short timeline of our life together before the move.
2008: We both (independently) move to Port au Prince to work for a Haitian microfinance institution. After week 2, we are inseparable.
2009: Steve moves back to DC for work. Being apart is awful. I move back at the end of the year.
2010: Steve proposes in the most romantic way I can think of. We plan a wedding in less than three months.
What news have we? from Leah Nedderman on Vimeo.
2011: We get married outdoors under a perfect January Texas sky, with the people we love.
Last week: We packed 14 bags, left our house in the capable hands of good friends, and were greeted by a gorgeous east African winter.
2008: We both (independently) move to Port au Prince to work for a Haitian microfinance institution. After week 2, we are inseparable.
2009: Steve moves back to DC for work. Being apart is awful. I move back at the end of the year.
2010: Steve proposes in the most romantic way I can think of. We plan a wedding in less than three months.
What news have we? from Leah Nedderman on Vimeo.
2011: We get married outdoors under a perfect January Texas sky, with the people we love.
Last week: We packed 14 bags, left our house in the capable hands of good friends, and were greeted by a gorgeous east African winter.
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