Monday, October 11, 2010

Pure Gonzo

From Wiki:

Gonzo journalism is a style of journalism that is written subjectively, often including the reporter as part of the story via a first-person narrative.

Gonzo journalism tends to favor style over accuracy and often uses personal experiences and emotions to provide context for the topic or event being covered...Use of quotations, sarcasm, humor, exaggeration, and profanity is common.


I think I was in the middle of some emotive point about something ridiculous on Saturday when a chum said for a second I reminded him of Hunter S Thompson, the father of gonzo journalism. The Hawaiian shirt I had on probably helped the illusion. The comment reminded me of the Journalism paper I did in my last year at varsity. (ps while never a huge fan of Hunter S, I did enjoy The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe.)

As I like to obsess on irrelevant detail long after no one else cares, I have been subsequently thinking about to what extent a person's travel blog could constitute 'gonzo journalism'.

I suppose this blog-if I strain the meaning really hard-could be a form of journalism? It is informing about events, issues and slices of life. I dunno if it is 'gonzo' though. Its not drug addled enough.

But I guess I am the main character of a subjective endeavour. (kicked under table) Ow, my wife is too I suppose. But unlike gonzo, my style is less about a surreal, stream of consciousness monologue and more about the selection of detail, that to me, paints a picture of the madness that goes on here. But the blog IS self indulgent enough to be a form of subjective gonzo-ness I suppose....I dunno...

Maybe this blog is about as relevant as this form of Gonzo:



Off to get 'uppers' ie caffiene

Maize-d and Confused

It is getting hotter and hotter as October rolls on.

Had another interesting weekend. We’d planned to meet up with the volunteers in Arusha, as well as getting Franatee to a dentist out there. Saturday morning, we jumped on a bus (after walking quickly past a guy smoking a cigarette on top of a petrol tanker...shudder) and were soon in Arusha hip deep in other Kiwis. We all went to the Blue Heron, an upmarket outdoor restaurant and caught up over beers, Bacardi (me) and lunch. By a happy coincidence, a play (in English) was being put on that night at the Arusha Hotel by the ‘Dar Es Salaam Players’ and we had tickets booked. Kudos to the organiser!

It was hours until the play so we decided to get some afternoon exercise. A mini-putt course was fabled to exist in Arusha and we were determined to find it. After a bit of wandering we found it, a 9 hole course at the ‘Le Jacaranda’ hotel. A waiter brought us refreshments (more beer) as we played.

Worst. Course. Ever.

I can only conjecture that the holes were designed by someone with very limited actual mini-putt hours logged. Crazy sheer angles, no room for error (or even a golf ball on some of the slopes) and balls constantly flying out of bounds. But all good fun. The wife beat me by 1 stroke, did a trick shot off a roof and found a tame rabbit to play with, so she was happy.

Are you ‘aving a laff?

After some sushi, it was time for the play. We rolled to the Arusha Hotel, finding it packed with smartly dressed ex-pats...also there for the play I assumed. I felt a little underdressed. Wandering in the hotel, I passed through the ‘Safari Casino Room’ and got flashbacks to my time working in gambling operational policy. Another beer helped calm me down.

Showtime!

As we took our seats amidst the pre-show music playing, I suddenly heard OMC’s ‘How Bizarre’. I went a little crazy hearing that NZ anthem in Africa and started whooping for joy. (did I mention we had been drinking since noon?) Got some right filthy looks we did.

The play was awesome: ‘Bouncers’ an adult drama/comedy dealing with the trials and tribulations of the bouncing scene in Northern England. I think some of the English humour was lost on some of the ex-pat audience, but the Kiwis were laughing uproariously (you can take a man out of the Hutt but...). At one point I brayed with laughter at one crass line, only to realise no one else was laughing (cue second round of filthy looks).

A great show. Any play with ‘Tubthumpin’ by Chumbawumba in the soundtrack is the best play ever.

After a post play drink and debrief, we moved on to ‘Via Via’ a local night club and sat outside with (yes)some more drinks. A couple of MJ songs enticed the wife and I in for a dance. A local Tanzanian who was the friend of one of us turned up and joined us outside.

All aboard...the night train!
Okay.
I dunno which intrepid one amongst first mooted the idea but I have my suspicions. Anyway, it was getting past midnight and one of us suggested that it would be an awesome idea to get in a car and just drive until we found some coast to watch the sunrise. What can I say, alcohol is conducive to enthusiasm. We did however discount the possibility of a late night run across the Kenyan border to the coast of Mombasa.

We discussed the idea of being taxied a relatively short distance outside of the Arusha town limits and waiting in a ‘paddock’ ie on the plains until dawn. I and 3 other kiwis were in. Our Tanzanian friend’s face alternated between bemusement and horror, but he too agreed to come.

My wife (sensibly) decided to sit this one out and get some sleep at a volunteer’s house. She told me she didn’t want to see me get mugged again. I didn’t tell her that it was probably snakes that would be the concern in the wild, rather than muggers.

We rolled back to a house and grabbed blankets and jackets. I had some residual misgivings about the wisdom of this enterprise but the others were really keen and I felt that it was incumbent on me as a mature role model to not deprive the group of the benefit of my sensible, guiding hand. So grabbing a bread knife for protection, I headed out the door.

Our posse contracted an incredulous taxi driver at 1am to drive us out of Arusha to somewhere away from lights where we could see the stars. A short while later we were crashing through a maize field in the dead of the night, moving away from the lights shining from the Arusha airport in the distance. Aside from the distant airport and a couple of lights twinkling from some houses far off it was dark and still.
And cold. I really wish I had had more than just a t-shirt on. While some of our group snored contentedly under jackets, I couldn’t settle on the rocky ground. Plus, I think it was sinking in for our Tanzanian friend that we really did want to stay there until dawn and he was getting a little grouchy and vocal about that.

The sky was a bit cloudy at first, but it soon cleared and we could see stars overhead. The odd bat and owl whirled around overhead. I assume it was an owl, otherwise that was one big freakin’ brown bat that buzzed me. Too cold and wired to sleep, I wandered off from the group for a comfort stop. I did not realise that it is actually hard to find a misplaced group of huddled, sleeping forms again in a maize field. I wandered up and down for about half an hour. Ran into the grouchy Tanzanian who had gotten lost like me. We wandered a bit more calling out ‘Dudes! Dudes!’ before we stumbled across the Kiwis again. I later found out that one of them had heard me calling but thought I was a bandit or something so kept quiet. Dead to me.

Lay there for a while. It was now about 430am and it was still freaking cold. I was shivering like anything. I finally snapped and started huddling in with the unisex sleepers, desperate for body warmth. Don’t tell mke. The guy spooning behind me actually did stop the shivers, even if it was all becoming a little bit like this Heath Ledger movie I once saw:


I didn’t really get to sleep at all; the Tanzanian was still awake and loudly vocalising his views of the wisdom of New Zealanders..finally about 545am Sunday morning it started getting lighter. Around 630am, the horizon went a nice pink/golden colour and directly ahead we had nice silhouette of Mount Meru. I dunno if it was all ‘worth it’ but it was a nice Kodak moment.

(this guy looks less than happy about his night's accommodation)
Then as luck would have it, local workers turned up to work in the maize fields. Awkward. I really don’t know what they made of this gaggle of scruffy wazungu crashed out in the middle of the field, but they smiled as we started trudging for home (stopping briefly to remove a huge furry caterpillar from my back that, apparently, is very poisonous).

We grabbed a dala dala back to Arusha, looking exhausted and clutching our blankets. A quick stop for chai in a local place. The Masaai in there smirked good naturedly at our motley group. I reunited with the wife, bailed on the idea of a dentist for now, said our goodbyes to those krazy kiwis and took the insanely speeding bus home to Moshi.

I was shattered all Sunday, but it was all (PUN ALERT) par for course. Life is beautiful.

Oh the Hu-manatee

This Thursday, the wife and I are off on a travel intensive 4 day safari of the Serengeti. A lot to see and do in a vast area in only a few days. One thing I’d love to see is the annual wildebeest migratory super-herd but I think about now the herd may have crossed the Mara river and is in Kenya, boo. At mke’s insistence (let the record state) we plan to splurge and- all going to plan- do a balloon ride over the plains. Expect photos of lions and a Hindenburg recreation soon.

Friday, October 8, 2010

"You wanted me...here I am"

After some weeks of trying, yesterday I snapped. I had had enough of a lack of direction on the prioritisation of some training/human rights interventions so I matched into the boss' room yesterday in a Batsuit, put a chair under the door handle and demanded answers in a Batman growl.

The gruff Bat voice and 'tude actually worked wonders. I was given some useful, pragmatic advice as to what the NGO really needs me to deliver at this point in time. Groovy. Now if only mke can get some direction too...

Off to Arusha for the weekend. Bat Justice is needed there (no Slovenians are going to rough up my boys)and I need some Springboks (a shot, half green liquor, half brown cream).

NB-80% of the above really happened.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Baron Dougchausen

"He won't get far on hot air and fantasy."
A public servant, The Adventures of Baron Munchhausen

Someone remarked to me the other day that they were unsure whether my recent Facebook status updates were fictitious or not. I remember a similar queries from people when I got back from South Africa in 2008 asking me which elements really happened and which ones did not. Um, sorry my trip wasn't more dull..

It bugs me a little because while I enjoy a good yarn, I am not a complete fantasist I am no outrageous fraud or teller of tall tales, I am a sober, quiet volunteer; I am not Baron Dougchausen! (Okay, but I do love that film and I do hope to be in a hot air balloon at some point soon.)

Ahem.

Obviously, a Blog selects or highlights some events and omits others. I have not written an extensive blog about getting a haircut or brushing my teeth. Okay, well I did write an entry about getting a haircut. But I do select events/thoughts of interest both for any readers (all 2 of you) and as a memory jog for myself for when I get home. I do like to put a lot of quirky, factual detail in the blog cos that is what I want to remember myself later.

So rest assured, colourful prose aside, events depicted here all happened. I did get mugged and was in a car crash in the same weekend. I have swum with a sea snake. I did have a hawk steal my cake. My wife did barge through a procession of prisoners. I did get woken up by an elephant ripping up the vegetation outside my lodge. I did headbutt an Aussie woman by mistake on the dance floor who then tried to pull my shirt off...um forget that one.

Of course you are free to disbelieve me. But for serious, this is just Africa. Stuff happens here. Good stuff, bad stuff, insane stuff. That's what drew me here in the first place instead of a year's secondment at Paper Plus on Jackson Street, Petone.

Believe me, it is all wretchedly tiring. I'm starting to look forward to some normality.

But if I say-for example-last night I got lost on a dusk jog and ended up walking through a secondary school packed with hooting, laughing students (a prizegiving on or something?) my Ipod earphones trailing behind me in disgrace....it's just what happened...but I will do my level best to be more uneventful.

It aint always doom and gloom



(A happy moment at one of our village HIV support groups)

List of positive things that happened today:

-The new cycle route to work is scenic. It goes through a nice tree lined area past the cheeky kids at the local school and the awe struck younger tykes (at the madly peddling white guy) at the local kindy.

-Lunch today was tasty-pilaf rice and lentils

-Saw 3 hornbills (why always in 3's?) race over on a walk

-Heard another update that a young HIV positive client I intervened with a while ago is doing extremely well.

-Helped a co-worker draft his performance appraisal material. He's stoked. He's a hard worker and has a big family, I hope he gets a well earned raise.

-Our new monitoring & evaluation officer (his second day) seems switched on and enthusiastic, awesome!

-And last but not least, having an email convo with a mate back home (our timezones must have matched briefly) planning the EPIC party the wife and I are going to have when we return to the Petone house in 2011. I say we trash it and blame the damages on the tenants, Bwaa haa haaa


There is no passion to be found playing small - in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.
Nelson Mandela

Sunday, October 3, 2010

What would Phil Collins do?



She calls out to the man on the street
Sir, can you help me?
Phil Collins 'Another Day in Paradise'

Just once, a totally quiet weekend would be nice. Saturday was an awesomely sunny day, so decided to do a solo run first thing in morning, while wifey chilled and made pancakes. Did a nice 45 minute run ended up in the ward of Karanga with a stunning view of Kili over a river valley (to the soundtrack of the randomly shuffled stirring Lord of the Rings sounds on the Ipod). Karanga is where the big local prison is located. That could have explained the sullen looking guy in orange prison overalls hiding in the bushes? I just jogged a bit faster past him...

Got home, chucked on a Hawaiian shirt, despite wifey saying it made me look too touristy then rolled into town to meet friends for a coffee. As we discussed where the wildebeest migration is currently located(in the north of the Serengeti heading south if you must know),I thought my toasted cheese sandwich which tasted a bit...odd...

We then wanted to get a plunger for our toilet/shower combo (don't ask). Wandered into a random hardware store. The twitchy Tanzanian/Asian guy running the store proceeded to give the wife and I a detailed lecture on the drug trade in Moshi, how his competitors were fronts for drug barons etc etc. He showed us his helpful hand written notes on various conspiracies for our 'education'. Just the plunger, dude, just the plunger.

No sooner do we escape that nutbar, than (with the wife trailing behind) I happen upon 4 guys at a Vodacom stand on the path surrounding a girl. One of the guys is twisting her arm back. Her expression and noises do not indicate she is enjoying it. I made a loud 'Oi' noise and stared at them. They let her go a bit then started making smirking tough guy noises at me. Guess the Hawaiian shirt made me look a bit too much like an outsider. I just wish they coulda said what was going on, instead of trying to save face or something. Maybe she was caught stealing something? But it looked more like a domestic thing...then again it coulda been a scheme to distract us to take money off us.

As we were on a main street, people were everywhere and the Police station was just opposite the road, I slowly wandered on. But I wasn't happy just to walk off. In NZ I would expect the person holding the girl to clarify WHY he was doing it. However locals I've talked to since have said I did the right thing...a lone white guy starting a fight with 4 Tanzanians could end badly. A local told me last year a young American in Arusha tried to intervene as a thief snatched a handbag from a tourist and was stabbed with a long screwdriver several times...Luckily he lived..

So yeah, gotta be careful about interventions here.

So didn't sleep too well that night, brooding on that, noises outside the house of toy dogs scrapping, people walking past. Plus I developed a bit of food poisoning (thanks to the odd tasting cheese sandwich). Well the day started off as a good day...

Next day, I felt ill so kept a low profile. Did go for one wander late in the day where we saw...well I'll let the wife explain:

"On the walk home from an attempted visit to a friend's place I saw a dark green and black spotted chameleon on the footpath. I urged Doug to stop so we could check it out. It looked like it was injured as the side of it's mouth looked a bit crusty. I immediately named the creature 'Velveteen.' Since language school I've begun a practice of naming chameleons after types of fabric. 'Chambrey' who we met on the lawn of language school was our first encounter with a chameleon.

I picked up Velveteen and he crawled over mine and Doug's hands. He was so cute! Doug and I debated whether based on his injuries we should take him home and care for him or whether we should just leave him put. I was a bit concerned about how we'd manage to catch enough food for him each day. However, moments later Velveteen gave us the answer - he stretched up his little front legs, as if climbing in mid air, in the direction of the nearest tree. We popped him up there, wished him well, as he started to turn the colour of the tree trunk and headed home."

Postscript:
Velveteen went on to become a DJ in Tanzania, the first representative of the Chamaeleonidae family to do so. He specifically thanked Franatee at his first big gig.

Friday, October 1, 2010

All roads lead to the Mile

We have green lino in our new flat. You can watch the green floor go through from the Kitchen/Dinning Area to the Lounge, to the Bedroom and then the Toilet/Shower Combo. I have thought at least once before it reminds me of the movie 'The Green Mile.'

Now stay with me.

I crafted a gigantic Child Protection/Abuse Manual/Document/Staff Workbook thing months ago. Shout out to mke for her common sense input/review. It has sat with the boss in silence for a long time. I tried to get feedback on it but not a peep. I thought maybe it was too dense or un-user friendly or something. Then suddenly a week ago, I found it had been passed (without me knowing, tut) onto a UNICEF contact for their input...so I promptly got in touch with the UNICEF person. Good to have someone else to look at it.

Stay with me.

We have had a couple of Kenyans here the past week from our Kenyan (duh) office giving input into a big EU project that's underway. I haven't had too much to do with them...except...I must say...one of them is a huge guy who looks exactly like the character John Coffey from...that's right, The Green Mile.

So I'm working at my desk Friday afternoon, when this giant bear man suddenly appears and starts telling me (in a booming baritone) how he has to go now but Kenya is really excited about my 'child document'. And WHACK he gives me this big CLAP on the back. He says he can't wait to see it, great work, I need to come to Nairobi immediately etc etc. I'm just blinking and smiling nervously as his huge paw claps up and down on my tender back....as he leaves he hands me a business card and his name has the initials 'J.O' But the second letter of his last name is a 'C'...its almost J.C!!

From silence, to UNICEF to The Green Mile. I'm ecstatic to get some movement on a big piece of work, thank you John Coffey!