7 / 17 / 2009

Please excuse the delay in this submission, connectivity continues to be difficult.

I feel like a 16 year-old! I received my Zambian driver’s license today, thanks to the great personal network of one of the drivers. Mr. Ngoma convinced a friend to walk through the papers, reducing the one-month process to just a day. Good to have friends in high places.

The Zambian version of the Department of Motor Vehicles is on the western, industrial side of town. Refuse lines the streets (most of it appears to be empty plastic bottles); every couple hundred yards someone has attempted to burn some of the garbage in piles three feet high. Fire is the predominant method to clear things here – whether it is garbage in the streets or weeds in the field. Further down the boulevard is an extremely mad market, with vendors selling clothes from piles laying on the street, food from upright stalls, shoes, phones and all sorts of goods litter the street. Just behind the thoroughfare is a large borough, where the smell of humanity is very strong. Hundreds of people criss-cross the street. As we drive, the smells constantly switch between food, people and the burnt piles of garbage.

The reason to rush the drivers’ permit is we are leaving for Harare, Zimbabwe this weekend. I have to admit that I’m a bit concerned about traveling to Mugabe’s country, all the US State and CIA reports are quite negative. With my personal background I feel I represent that country’s worst nightmare when I reach the border. But I am going with Brian Berkhout, a native of Zimbabwe and one of the white farmers who lost his land to Mugabe’s nationalization plan for its veterans. Brian assures me that Zimbabwe is not only completely safe, but also a far cry better than Zambia in almost every aspect. We are driving down to Harare Sunday.

This week has been all about preparing for this trip. World Bicycle Relief has received a great deal of interest from NGOs working in Zimbabwe and other countries. The bicycle has proved so resilient and successful in Zambia that demand is growing elsewhere. Currently, WBR has tentative requests for about 1000 bicycles, all to be delivered before the end of September. It seems many of the organizations in Harare have fall-out funds remaining from the fiscal year and need to spend that money before the year ends in September. So this week has been about customs, duties, and immigration paperwork that will be necessary and making sure we know how to get around the city of Harare once we arrive.

For me that means some extensive map study, I prefer to always know how to get where I want/need to be, by foot if necessary, in foreign places. This is especially true in Harare if the US reports are anything close to accurate. Call me paranoid if you like, but I prefer to be prepared for the worst.

On the home front, things have improved in Lusaka. The sun finally came out and the temperature is in the 70’s during the day, making the nights more bearable. I think my recent purchase of a space-heater is the reason for the change in weather. The heater cost $75, and we have never turned it on. Personally I’m still dealing with a cold that refuses to go away.

As August is approaching, many of the students working in Zambia begin returning home. Camilla will be the first to leave, so the folks at the Italian embassy are having a farewell dinner for her this weekend. I’m looking forward to the event. She has received requests that she bring “the Americans” since the planners want to have a backyard barbecue – and who knows more about grilling steaks than Americans. I’ll be happy to oblige.

7 / 11 / 20009

Well, it’s the weekend! But nothing much is different for me, just no trip to the office, which is a difference from every previous day. The younger tenants of this house seem to enjoy a festive night-life, especially Camilla, she is making the most of her experience working for the Italian Embassy. She and the two young men, Dan and Jack have had a few late evenings this week and they are all sleeping in this morning.

It is a brighter day, but still cold. Today I will try to make a difference by purchasing a space heater. Most of the hours after dark are unprofitable, I’m just too chilled to be productive. Other than that house is very comfortable. I’m sharing a room with Dan, a cousin of Bill and F.K who is here as an intern. Dan finished college last year and is like many of my classmates who is trying to figure out what comes next. For those of you counting, yes, this makes Dan almost half my age, a theme that will be repeated quite often while I’m here

Dan - the lady's man

Jack is half-way through college at Michigan and studying business. He’s a very warm-hearted young man who is family friends with the Day’s. He and Dan have been here a little over a month and will return in early August. Jack likes to remind me of my collegiate days by telling stories about antics in the frat house. If Jack’s mom is reading this, he doesn’t sound like an instigator, but a playful observer.

Jack, the guy lady's want

Camilla, the sweetheart

Camilla is the room-mate I met first, since Jack and Dan were on a bit of Safari that weekend. She is an Italian student working as an intern at the Embassy, and seems the most genuine in her interest in the local people and customs. I like Camilla, mostly because she likes my music and I’m allowed to let the i-tunes play all day. Actually, she is very unpretentious (this photo captures that quite well) and easy to get along with. Besides the music, the only entertainment is reading or conversation. No TV, movies, or newspapers. We do have a wonderful time with the mosquitoes in the evening, trying to see who can catch the most evasive and annoying little bastard I’ve ever had the misfortune to come in contact with. I win the first contest with a leaping 180 from the dinner table. I’m gonna leave that guy on the wall as a warning to the others.

Our house is brand new. You won’t see in on the google satellite shot, but I added the address, so if you punch Ngumbo Rd, Lusaka Zambia into the search bar, it will zoom into our neighborhood. We are right between Embassy Row and the Presidential residence. Its probably the safest neighborhood in the country. The national police are a block away and the army across the road from the state house. The street is tree lined and reminds me of a southern neighborhood. The same walls that surrounded the buildings in Pretoria are also here, with barbed wire and a local improvement: broken glass cemented to the tops of the walls. Every residence is protected by a large metal door, most of which are manned by guards. While we have no guard, we have dogs that are too annoying to bother with.

There are two other homes within this plot (they are on the map). There are two kids living in the homes next door. Lamushi is about 10 and very nice and quick to talk or answer questions. Her little brother is much more shy and about 7. Mfasi is ALWAYS dirty, in a way that would make any boy in America envious. The two have learned that we usually have candy, or water-melon and have been a bit more adventurous about coming to our door.

We also have a maid who visits the house three times a week. This is very good for Dan. She offers to do laundry, which I happily take her up on at the first opportunity. Her price seems reasonable - $10. But this is the same wage earned by the bicycle mechanics after working an entire day. Working for the westerners is obviously a wonderful benefit. But I wonder how many men would be willing to earn so much more by doing house-work.

I interviewed another cab driver. Patson is in very similar situation as Enpol. He drives a private car 6 days a week that belongs to someone else. He has identical aspirations and also thinks that once he owns a car, he would not drive it for hire. I think this is very interesting. However, Patson pays 75 pin a day for the car, (1 pin is 1000 Kwacha, 5000 Kwacha is roughly equal to a dollar) so that’s $15/day for the car, another 5 pin ($1) for secure parking and 100 pin ($20) for gas. Patson makes roughly 30,000 – 40,000 Kwacha per fare, so he needs about 5 a day to beat his costs. That’s often about all he does. A very good day and Patson collects 300 pin ($60, of which only $25 is profit). Patson is probably living on less than $150 a month. He is a very happy and congenial young man with a wife and a son just over 1 year old. Although the pay is meager and nerve-rackingly inconsistent, taxis abound in Lusaka. This opportunity is better than the options.

The “kids” are heading out again, I’m calling Patson to take me to dinner. I was attempting to make one, but the power has gone out, which happens several times a week, usually at this hour. Good night folks.

7 / 8 / 2009

I apologize for the delay in this posting, we have been experiencing technical difficulties. I hope everyone is enjoying the blog...

Since both Monday and Tuesday were holidays, this is the first day of school since we discovered the faulty parts. Today probably marks a first in Zambia, and probably for many parts of Africa, if not the whole continent. We’re having a recall! That’s right, we know we gave you junk, but instead of laughing on the way to the bank, as some businesses in Africa seem to do, WBR is going to make it right. We drive back into the area of Chongwe and to a school called Ndapula, where just last week the organization gave out approximately 100 bicycles.

Ndapula is a small two-room schoolhouse that sits on a hill with a view for miles in every direction: very picturesque. The building is a bright blue, there is a swing-set in the yard and a huge meeting tree. There are only 4 teachers in Ndapula teaching 300 students from 1^st to 9^th grade. This school was only recently sanctioned by the Ministry of Education; before then it was a facility created by the locals because other schools were just too far away.

Even with the new school in this location, many students have to walk for miles to get here, and a few students decide the distance is just too far, hence WBR’s Bicycle Education Empowerment Program (BEEP). On the way to the school we actually came across a recent success story. Martha is about 13 and had dropped out of school last year, due to the distance. The local school board identified her as a candidate for BEEP. A week later she is not only back in school, but we found her helping another child make the journey. She is extremely excited to be back in school. Seventy percent of WBR ‘s BEEP bikes are targeted at girls. Educating the girls has the added benefits of decreasing child mortality, birth rates and increasing longevity.

On the way to the school, we leave the blacktop and travel 45 minutes over dirt roads. Much of the distance reminds me of the dirt roads I traveled as a boy at home in rural Missouri (many are still there). They are broad and groomed following the end of the rainy season with ample irrigation ditches alongside. But the last 5 miles are torturous; a simple jeep trail that only a bicycle or ox-cart should be on. We do in fact pass several ox-carts; they are the most numerous means of transport we see. The carts are mostly handmade, I would prefer to walk myself, rather than risk the contraption falling apart beneath me. All the fields on either side of the road are barren – its mid-winter and the dry season. Even barren they don’t look well tended.

When we arrive at the school, the repairs have already begun. The mechanics have set up their tarp under the meeting tree and started to replace the faulty wheels. 8 mechanics spend the entire day on the bikes. Since most have been in use only a week, there is little to do other than replace the wheels.

The kids wait patiently, watching the repairs. Just like at home the girls are less interested in what’s going on, they are chatting with each other, or playing. To a one, the boys are gathered around and paying rapt attention. When it’s their turn, they follow the bike like an expectant father, inspecting every move the mechanic makes. I am struck by searingly similar image of myself and other young boys as we tooled with our upside-down bicycles, acting like mechanics, or out fathers. I watch one young boy who is obviously cataloguing every piece that comes off to ensure it is put back accurately.

I swear the boy on the right was counting parts

Part of the business process is to collect the data. Each rider completes an interview following the wheel replacement: How far has the bike been ridden; what did you carry; has anyone else been using the bike? The mechanics find 5 hubs that are obviously close to failure. We are lucky there have been no catastrophic issues. The five hubs are packaged and sent to the manufacture for testing and analysis.

I take a few minutes to walk around and inspect the school. I meet Elizabeth, who runs the school. She is obviously delighted with the program! Since receiving bikes, two teachers have returned to help with the kids (30% of the bikes go to teachers and staff to ensure the schools can even provide a reliable schedule of classes). She also tells me that, due to the distances, the school actually has two periods: morning and afternoon. Otherwise, too much of the day would be lost to both commute and school. A half-day of school is a compromise.

When I look inside, I’m actually surprised to see all the lesson plans are in English. Vocabulary and alphabet lessons, multiplication tables (yeah, I know they’re Arabic, but the rest is English) are all just like what I remember from my first days in school. I’ve been aware that everyone in Zambia speaks English, but I assumed it was a strong universal second language, not the only language officially taught. The down side is the school is obviously geared to the most elementary education. The older children must abide by the same lessons every year. Elizabeth has carried on somewhere else, so I can’t ask any more questions in this regard. The children here, even though many are shoeless, seem much better off than those I met earlier in the week in the main village.

On the way back to Lusaka, we pass more ox-carts and the occasional farm-let. These are amazing to see; concrete or brick walls. Some rounded in what I imagine is the traditional shape for grass huts, and others square. There is still an incredible shortage of adults, this area seems to be populated purely by children and teenagers.

All-in-all, it’s been an extremely interesting day, but I’m glad to be getting back. The young room-mates, three kids in their 20’s, are going out on the town. I’ve been sick since Monday, and since I failed to bring flu remedies in my hubristic sense of health, the last few days have not been pretty. F.K. senses I’ve been struggling and offers his stash of Nyquil before heading home. I can’t believe how soft I’ve become, or how dependant I/we are on all the little things that make life easy and convenient. Good night everyone.

7 / 6 / 2009

Today is Hero’s Day in Zambia, recognizing all those who contributed to Zambian independence. Independence came gradually to Zambia with no revolutionary fight or colonial expulsion. After gaining access to open elections in 1962, the United National Independence Party (UNIP) gained control and voted to secede from the commonwealth and seek full autonomy. On October 24 of 1964 the process was complete and Zambia was born. Since then the country has seen single party rule, near dictatorship, and lately a multi-party system with presidential term limits.

Zambia is a country the size of Texas with 11 million people. The average age is only 17, primarily due to the AIDS epidemic. Life expectancy here is less than 40 years and the infant mortality rate is greater than 10%. After being here just a few days, and in the capital where a higher standard of living is possible, I see almost no one of my own age in the local populace. This is an excellent location for WBR to start it’s ministry.

Part of the program here is not only providing bicycles, but also to create an economy around the conveyance that is self-sustaining. Previously, the bicycles on the market were poorly designed and maintenance capability has been limited. Available spare parts are as structurally deficient as the original bicycles. All of this gives great credence to Easterly’s opinion that the poor have no voice in the products that are available to them. WBR has been training field mechanics to ensure bicycles recipients have access to quality parts and service. Otherwise, the bikes will degrade over time using only those spares that were formerly available.

Not far from Lusaka is a village called Chongwe. Today we are paying a visit to one of the WBR trained field mechanics. As we pull up outside the village, the World Bicycle Relief banner is quickly recognized and I am beset by elders eager to know when the local school will be receiving their allotment of bikes. This is an unexpected reception as the bikes for students program is barely two weeks old. I am disappointed that one of my first acts in Africa is to marginalize the hopes of the village, telling them that it will be longer than expected for their children to receive the aid we have promised. Next I’m struck by the stark utilitarian nature of the people. Someone has tapped into the power line next to the highway (there are only three main arteries in the national system) and strung live wires along the ground to create an arc welding station. I pray it doesn’t rain.

I did take some photos of this trip, unfortunately they were done with 20^th century technology and will require ScanCafe support before getting added to the blog. I think I should get some advertising credit here.

Inside the village mall we find the man we are looking for: Albert. Albert was a promising high school graduate who had no opportunity for work (unemployment in Zambia is 50%, yes 50!) Africare identified Albert as a promising young man and trained him to be a bicycle mechanic. A few years later, WBR also selected Albert for additional training and inclusion in the RAPIDS program. Today we are here to see how Albert is doing. To be blunt, he is an inspiration to all of us. With the extra income he is receiving as a WBR mechanic, Albert is putting all of his nieces and nephews into private school, his wife is in school, he has purchased some land and is erecting a building for seven apartments, one of which is dedicated to young orphan girls who are attending the same school as his orphaned nieces (Albert’s sister was a victim of AIDS). Albert’s ability to monetize his skills and create opportunity for so many around him is amazing, it is also an example of the weight so many entrepreneurs in this country must bear. As they become more successful, more and distant family members come to partake in their success. This creates an atmosphere of poverty that is nearly impossible to escape.

One of the drivers, Mr. Ngoma, takes me on a walk around the village to see the shops and meet the people. Most of the shop owners are selling dried fish. Fish is a strong term, most of the tables are loaded with minnows, less than an inch long and stacked in piles. This food represents the last ditch effort at sustenance. When heads of households can no longer provide meat or vegetables to their families, these fish are the last resort. They resemble a strip of scotch tape with blue eyes. Mr. Ngoma tells me that most families in this area have at least one meal a day composed of the dried minnows. While the fish and other clothing items are sold outside (along with a shirt bearing Obama’s likeness – “Change we can Belive In”), inside the warehouse structure are more affluent purveyors who are selling fresh vegetables: mostly tomatoes, cabbage and onions.

Next we take a tour of Albert’s new structure, which is a strong term. He assures me there is rebar in the footings, but the rest of the building is simple brick and mortar, no wood, insulation or windows. Only a few missing bricks to provide for air flow. The floors are either dirt or concrete and each room is roughly 7 ft square – just enough room to sleep and take refuge from rain or cold. Nearby, about 20 yards off is a borehole, or well. It is 2.5 ft across and the water table is close, less than 20ft below the surface. Albert assures me this water is only for washing/cleaning; drinking water comes from a similar hole, but much farther from the village. Without checking, I hope the hole for drinking water is much deeper. As we walk we are followed by shoeless children, many of the young girls have infants tied to their backs. The girls are too young to be parents, but they carry the burden so naturally, they must start caring for these siblings very early on. The kids are delighted to see their faces in Leah’s viewfinder (She has a digital camera). We also see ample evidence of WBR’s efforts. The bikes are everywhere and represent all aspects of the project: school bikes, health care workers and those purchased through miro-loans.

On the way back to Lusaka we pass another group of workers. They are literally making little rocks out of big ones! Leah informs me that it’s a positive sign that children are no longer swinging the hammers. A hundred piles of gravel surround the few men and women who sit on piles of boulders and spend their day making ingredients for concrete or bricks. Nearby, bricks are made by pouring the mixture into molds cut into the dirt. One machine could replace all of this labor and do a better, quicker and more complete job. Then again unemployment is 50%. I really am at a loss for words to describe this scene.

A few hours later we are in a very nice Italian restaurant. It would be nice in Napa, and an unexpected opulence in any urban area with the Romanesque lay out of open verandas and gardens, charcoal briers flaming every few yards. The food is very good and the wine is excellent. It’s a great dinner (courtesy of F.K.) but I keep thinking some rider spent half a day getting the coal for the fire to Lusaka, and all that work is just burning to ash in an open courtyard.

7 / 4 / 2009

Independence Day in the U.S., Saturday here in Lusaka. I am up before 4AM, I'm not sure why. I think it's so I don't have to wake to the sound of crowing roosters. The house is still cold and dark; Friday night revelers can still be heard in the distance. Since we are so close to the equator, daylight only lasts 12 hours, generally 6AM to 6PM every day. It's a schedule that even chickens get bored with, they start announcing the sun shortly after 4 in the morning. Thinking of them I prepare a solid American breakfast of sausage and eggs, and one doxycyclene pill.

Today's agenda includes preparing new wheels to replace those that have been issued in the past week. The inaugural roll out included 100 bikes, there were an additional 110 delivered to a few test programs and administrators, so 210 in all. All but 20 have the new faulty parts. F.K. picks me up and we go to the office on Sable Road where about 15 workers have assembled to do the work. Over the next several hours they build 100 wheels using the old Czech hubs. WBR will replace the faulty wheels with these new ones on Wednesday when school is back in session (Monday is Heroes Day in Zambia recognizing those that worked to gain independence in 1964, Tuesday is Unity Day which sounds very enlightened, progressive and slightly socialist).

While they build the wheels, F.K. gives me a primer on the history of WBR and it's goals in Zambia. Following the Indian Ocean tsunami, which wrecked the coast of so many countries, F.K. wanted to use the skills at SRAM to assist those in need in Sri Lanka. After encountering some frustrating efforts attempting to work with, or through, established charities, who preferred cash to new ideas, F.K. and his wife Leah formed World Bicycle Relief with the help of several bicycle manufacturers and private donors. WBR was able to locate a local manufacturer in Sri Lanka to produce the bikes needed to assist healthcare workers and first responders serve their communities. The program was very successful. WBR had hoped to follow the same model in Zambia, but the complete lack of any organic bicycle industry made that an impossibility. Hence the relationship with Tata, who offers the best of many less-than-optimal solutions and bicycles.

Co Founders F.K. and Leah Day at the office

In Zambia, WBR has been working in conjunction with USAID, World Vision (a christian charity), the Salvation Army and a few other agencies associated with RAPIDS (Reaching HIV/AIDS Affected People with Integrated Development and Support - which is reaching for an acronym). There has even been some interaction with the World Bank providing bicycles to businesses through micro-loans. In phase I, WBR provided over 24,000 bicycles to health care workers; primarily villagers tending to HIV and AIDS victims.

At this time, WBR is a charity that is able to use its limited donations to fund a portion of their efforts in Zambia (25%). Most of the funding comes from World Vision, a 50 year old entity. The combination of the current economy, the competing demands of so many charities, and the limited experience of WBR, SRAM, F.K. et al in fund-raising makes the continued existence of WBR as a non-profit charity questionable. This is certainly true if WBR wishes to continue making an impact at the current scope of operations in Zambia (75,ooo bikes). In order to complete it's goals of increasing health-care, education and commerce for the 400+ million inhabitants of sub-Saharan Africa, close to 30 million bicycles are needed. For these reasons F.K. has expressed the idea that WBR may wish to stay with what it knows best: providing management and logistical expertise in a for-profit manner. Customers will be those international organizations like World Vision or the World Bank once they can be convinced of the efficacy of F.K.'s dream of providing the power of bicycles to the disenfranchised.

Today's efforts of preparing to replace the suspect parts are evidence of the type of expertise WBR brings to the market. First, in moving aggressively to replace faulty merchandise and secondly, in contacting the supplier with even greater vigor to improve the quality of it's products.

We close the day with a home cooked meal at Dave's house (who is still in Kenya) prepared by Leah (F.K.'s wife). I spent most of the evening drawing pictures of airplanes, or building them out of scrap paper for young Lincoln (3 years old) who's appetite for aviation is unquenchable.

7 / 3/ 2009

It is a moderate distance back to the airport and the drive is the reason to stay in Pretoria (as well as seeing the Presidential residence across from the hotel).  The countryside resembles Wyoming or Montana – high terrain with open vistas.  There is a good deal of smog never-the-less and construction the entire length of the trip.  I note that every residence in Pretoria has not only walls but also barbed wire for protection.  My driver says he likes Pretoria because there is much less crime than other areas.  Between the two cities are new developments.  Each area is surrounded by two sets of walls with clear ground in between.  The communities contain their own shops and restaurants.  It all reminds me of the DMZ in Korea, combined with any planned community in the U.S.

S15.425592 E28.317561

I land in Lusaka at 1PM.  The first person I meet is Kennedy, who is cheerful and gregarious.  We get to know each other (he just proposed) while waiting for a second van, the one Kennedy drove to the airport will not start and probably needs new gaskets.

Dave Neiswander is the man I’ll be working with most closely while in Zambia.  He is currently in Kenya trying to establish some contacts to expand the organization into that area.  So Kennedy takes me to see F.K. who is at the Tata facility.

Tata is the Indian conglomerate who is best known for cars and who recently purchased Land Rover and Jaguar from Ford. They are also one of the chief providers of bicycles to Africa.  WBR has partnered with Tata; Tata provides warehouse facilities and skilled workers, and WBR provides more modern management techniques and quality control.

My first hour on the ground in Zambia and we are in fact discussing quality control.  WBR has recently switched suppliers for the rear hub of it’s bicycles.  Formerly, the hubs came from the Czech Republic and a company called Vello Steel.  The Czech hubs were marked by over engineering and an outdated design that eventually left the bike useless under the extreme use of the Zambians (couriers often carry 75Kg of coal).  This year, WBR initiated a lab and field tests on hubs made in Taiwan by several companies including Shimano and KT (Kun Tang).  The KT hubs proved to be 30% cheaper, more reliable in design and easier to repair.  An additional factor in KT’s favor, the company is willing to work with WBR to revise designs to meet the specific needs of the Zambian market.  Unfortunately, the hubs sent to Zambia for production are not holding up as well as those used in the initial tests.  Failure rates are as high as 80% with many hubs already broken in the box. 

The initial actions are 1) determine the cause of the failiures and 2) determine where the difference occurred between testing and manufacture.  WBR has an additional set of immediate concerns.  Last week the organization rolled out phase II of it’s operations in Zambia; 50,000 bicycles going to help keep students, primarily female students, in school.  Two hundred bicycles are already in the field, with several hundred more scheduled for immediate delivery.  Of those delivered, over half have the new faulty hubs. 

To date, World Bicycle Relief has earned a reputation for supplying quality bicycles, equipment much more resilient than those available through retail channels.  This situation threatens to damage that reputation as well as the efficacy of the program.

7 / 2 / 2009

British Airways #33, a 747 departs London at 8:45AM.  Victor is seated next to me.  A 350 lbs English rugger enroute to see the British Lions play South Africa.  He’s funny and adventurous; we talk a lot about cars since we each have an affinity for engines larger than 5.0l.

In the center is a wonderful family of four.  The parents constantly play and sing to the two girls throughout the 10 hr flight.  I am delighted by the girls and the abundance of kisses and nursery rhymes.

This next bit is for Lisa.  The drive from Johannesberg to Praetoria is about 40 minutes and my driver seems to be a nice young man, polite and comfortable with my questions.  I was impressed when I first spotted him, dressed much better than other limo drivers at the airport in a sportcoat and tie.  Enpol is from Pietersberg in the north and has a wife and 15 month old daughter.  He gets about four days off each month, working 8-12 hours a day.  For his services he earns 2500 Rand (~$300) a month.  He lives in a two-bedroom apartment where the rent is roughly 1000 Rand (~$120) and his groceries are another 600 R.  I found it curious to note that his expenditures for housing and food roughly parallel my own as a percentage of net income.  He laments that he has no way to save, or attend school, and wants any job that will earn him more.

Enpol is a high school graduate but his nature, appearance and language seem to separate him very easily from most I’ve seen so far, or expected.  He aspires to purchase a car of his own so he can lease the vehicle as a taxi.  I was intrigued by the notion that he did not even consider driving the car, as he does now for someone else.  Once he owns a cab, his aspirations are purely as an owner/investor with an employee to do the work.  But he will almost never be able to afford one at his current income.  I suggest that he combine his efforts with friends or family to achieve his goal.  He laughs and says that when it comes to money – there is no trust.  He faces a prisoners’ dilemma with any potential co-investor.  So I relate to him how important trust is to achieving success, and tell him the story of Bernie Madoff.  A man recently put in jail for 150 years because he violated the trust of others.  Enpol looks at me as if punishing someone for this type of act is lunacy.

The hotel is twice as nice as the Heathrow Sheraton, as is the service. One night in this room would cost Enpol half a month’s pay.

6 / 30 / 2009

3 AM, enough said.  I look forward to this trip now with vigorous anticipation.  Two months of menial labor have taken their toll on my middle-aged form.  Africa now represents a chance to rest.

Gina is a wonder and meets me in front of her house at 4:20 and we drive to the airport. I will sorely miss Chuck and Gina and their incredible hospitality.  As I leave for Africa, they are leaving for San Diego and more service to the USMC.

Although I miss the first flight to Chicago, it’s first class on the next one and I’m lucky enough to get the last business class seat available for the 5PM flight to London.  Joe is on my left, a seasoned traveler from England who visits his daughter in LA.  Kimberly is next to me on my right; she’s a fellow United furloughee.  She’s also a bit flirtatious but good company for the nine hour flight.  Michal, an Israeli banker for Barclay’s in NY, is across the aisle.  I give her my card.  It is a good group of travelers, better than almost any other I’ve experienced as we chat and laugh across the two aisles for a good portion of the journey.

All competence and smoothness leave me once we arrive in London.  I leave my largest bag inside the security area while trying to help Kimberly purchase tickets for the underground.  A 45 minute wait to get back inside, wondering who is doing what to my bag.  Kimberly is kind and waits at the curb with the bags I did remember.  Finally I get inside and my bag is right where I left it, now I wonder what the English security folks are actually doing...  Another wait for the bus and I finally make it to the hotel to discover my reservation was for June, not July, 1^st.  Hey!  More starpoints.

6/29/2009

The greatest journeys start with a single step.  This one is starting by missing my flight.  Over the last few days, I have been consumed with urges to clean, repair, build and monitor every aspect of my existence in Tacoma; the house, garage in process, the rentals plus a last few opportunities to spend time with friends.  Yet barely a moment to ready myself for three months in Africa.  Now I've missed the flight and I've still not begun to pack.

I've known about this trip, one way or another, for two years.  Africa was on my list of immediate post graduation plans.  Originally I thought a few days on Safari would suffice, but the more I considered the options and the expectations I have of myself, something else was necessary.  A few months ago, I mentioned my desire to a friend to go to Africa and do "something philanthropic."  "What a coincidence," says Bill,  "my cousin will be here in 15 minutes."  Enter FK Day, a founder of SRAM and World Bicycle Relief. (http://www.worldbicyclerelief.org/) A few emails and a short phone call with the Director of African Operations in Zambia and its set - 10 weeks in Lusaka.  I began making reservations two months ago, starting and ending the trip in London.  Getting back and forth to Europe will be by the grace of United Airlines and my retained travel benefits.

I want to go.  Actually, I want to follow the advice of "just show up."  I'm excited by the opportunity to do something new, commit to a worthy cause, and test my experience, philosophy and acumen.  But part of me, apparently a large part, wants to stay; enjoy the northwest summer, tinker around the house, host dinners, be a bit more normal than the last two years have allowed.  But I will go, I am much too disciplined for any other option to prevail.  So now I have to pack, the flight's at 6AM to Chicago.