The National Passport Center: "No Hope for the Desperate”

At my previous university, I had a reputation for being particularly tough on my students.  In fact, I was once told I was “heartless.”  Many of my undergrads fondly recall the day when I kicked one of their peers out of class for texting.  Of course, my graduate students would probably argue you haven’t felt pain until you’ve experienced the “Mighty Red Pen of Phelan”.  Then again, I tend to receive emails from them after graduation telling me how they miss the “Mighty Red Pen;” perhaps they are all masochists.

Nevertheless, I’ve never been known for being particularly…. I’m not sure.  How should I say this?....Warm and fuzzy?  I’ve never seen a semester go by without a student- a grown man student that is- coming into the office and telling me I’m intimidating and then grovelling for something.  Given my alleged lack of compassion, bargaining for grades, “rounding up” (ha! Insert eye-roll here), and offering extra credit or make-up assignments are of no interest to me.  I’m told none of those things occur here at UQ, but stay tuned as I will let you know when I find out if this is true.

While I don’t believe in extra credit, I used to offer my students “extra effort” opportunities.  There was never a specific number of points they could earn to boost their grades, but I told them they could present a relevant current event article which related to the class in which they were enrolled.  Last semester, one of the girls in my Tourism class told us that the U.S. government was going to stop allowing people to add extra pages to their passports.  This was the most useful extra effort presentation I’ve ever seen… because it related directly to me.

For most people, extra passport pages are a non-issue issue.  For me, they are a big issue.  When you get your passport you have about 50 pages.  If you fill up all those pages you can send in your passport to the State Department and add another 50 pages.  If you fill those up, you can go through the same process a second time.  My passport was issued in 2011.  Before I went to Africa I had pages added.  After Africa I had four blank pages, which I knew would never last me until my passport expires in six years.  Given my move to Australia, and after finding out after December of this year new pages can no longer be added, I decided to apply for new pages now.  (After December 2015 if you run out of pages before your passport expires you have to get a whole new passport.  This is a bigger deal for me since I’m living outside the U.S. and my Australian visa is tied to my current passport number.)

I came out to Australia to visit the first week of May.  The day after I arrived back in the U.S. I sent in my passport so I could get my new pages.  According to the State Department website, it takes 4-6 weeks to process a passport.  At 5 ½ weeks I hadn’t received the passport and the online tracking site was “down” and directed me to call the National Passport Center.

It took six attempts before my call finally went through.  During the first five calls I was either disconnected while going through the automatic messaging system or the call never connected in the first place.  On the sixth attempt I was put into the queue and forced to listen to the same dreadful music continuously for 49 minutes.

At minute 49 Evelyn picked up and told me she couldn’t give me any information at all, aside from saying the passport had been received.  I did find out however that more than 500 people work at the National Passport Center answering the phones (apparently none of them are able to answer your questions about your passport either, so don’t bother asking), the passports are indeed processed in the United States, not outsourced to India or Mexico, and even if you call at the start of the business day Evelyn does not have a sense of humour (I would hate to call at 4pm, eh!).  That led me to ask for her supervisor.

Twenty-six minutes later Nathan answered.  My first question to him was, “What is the name of that song I’ve been listening to for the last hour?  Oh? You don’t know?  I’m pretty sure I know the name.  I believe it is ‘No Hope for the Desperate’.”  Nathan thought that was hilarious by the way.  He must be the token person at NPC with a sense of humour.  While I enjoyed my conversation with Nathan (we have the same birthdate by the way) the conversation ended with, “Well, you can pay an extra $60 to have the passport rushed, but to be honest, they won’t guarantee it will be processed within two weeks (when I needed to depart for OZ).”

In the end I received my passport in time.  In fact, “rushing” works!  I actually had the passport in three days. Not too bad.  Here is my advice for you:

1.      If you travel a lot, don’t have many empty passport pages, and your passport doesn’t expire for a while, get your extra pages now.  After December you won’t have this option.

2.      If you need to renew your passport (or get extra pages) give yourself at least two months between when you send in your passport and your next trip.

3.      If you can’t comfortably be without your passport for two months, pay the rush fee up front so you don’t have to worry about it.

4.      If you have a question about your passport, don’t bother calling NPC.

5.      If you refuse to listen to #4 and insist on calling NPC and Evelyn answers tell her I said hi.  Then immediately ask to talk to Nathan.  When Nathan answers ask him the name of the song played while you were waiting.  If he doesn’t know the name, tell him you believe it is called, ‘No Hope for the Desperate.”  Then tell Nathan I said ‘Hi.’”

In case you were curious what an extra-large passport looks like here you go.  On the left is my passport which now nears the size of a phone book, and on the right is an original passport without any extra pages added.:

Happy Travelling!

Where in the World is Dr. Phelan (Going Next)?

When I first began my blog nearly 18 months ago, my very first blog post was titled: Where in the World is Dr. Phelan? Botswana!

Well, in memory of that first post, I decided to borrow, but also alter, the title.  Rather than asking Where in the World is Dr. Phelan?, the more appropriate question is Where in the World is Dr. Phelan Going Next?  And so we have it….

I will be moving overseas again in a few weeks.  However, this is not a short-term sabbatical move like Botswana.  Instead, this is a more permanent position.  Granted, nothing is really permanent, but this is a full-time position without any pre-determined end date.  Hence, it is considered a permanent move.

Though my future home will be quite different from Africa, and the U.S., there is a lot I’m looking forward to.  Unlike Africa, I’m not expecting excessive power cuts.  But there will be lots of wildlife.  I won’t be the token white person, so I won’t get in trouble for walking with the intent of causing a car accident.  But, there will be a slight language barrier I will need to overcome.  I will need to get a new driver’s license, though since I more or less know how to drive on the “other” side of the road now, I should be able to forego driving lessons.  There is a Little America in my new country, but the necessity of sunscreen will still be strong as ever.

Any guess yet where I might be going?.... 

Want a hint?.... 

In case you didn’t get it the first time, how you could forget?  There are two addresses EVERYONE in the world knows, YOUR address, and….. 

Now, this isn’t entirely accurate.  I’m not moving to Sydney.  But I am moving to Australia!  I recently accepted a position at the University of Queensland, which is in Brisbane, which is here:

I know I said this when I moved to Africa, and only a handful of people took me up on my offer, but I REALLY HOPE YOU’LL COME VISIT ME!

What to do (and not do) When In… Botswana

Since I returned to the United States in September, I took a new position as the Fulbright Grant Administrator at Texas Tech.  Over the past six months I’ve been busy helping professors write their grant applications, and more recently, I’ve been assisting Fulbright fellowship award winners to prepare for their sabbaticals in their host countries.

Just last week I was speaking to the woman who received a Fulbright grant to Botswana.  We spent over an hour on Skype discussing how to get a research permit, what to expect when it comes to trying to obtain a residency visa or when you go to the doctor’s office for a check-up, how not to get deported, the importance of the headlamp, dating, mating and shopping for real estate, and high-end designer duds at the Dead Muzungu Market (it’s not Louis Vuitton, but it IS an experience).

In addition to aspiring Fulbrighters recognizing my wealth of knowledge about travel in Africa, The Economist recently commissioned me to write an article for inclusion in their lifestyle and culture magazine, Intelligent Life.  Take a look at my article, which recounts what to do (and not do) when visiting Botswana.  If you understand each of these statements it means you read the corresponding blog posts, so thank you for your attention!  Enjoy:

http://moreintelligentlife.com/content/places/kelly-phelan/when-botswana

World AIDS Day

I’m not sure if you have been reading the news, but today, December 1^st, is World AIDS Day.  According to one news article I read, the intention of World AIDS Day is to raise awareness and money for research and medical care with the intention of eliminating the disease by 2030.  While an admirable goal, I think it will be difficult to obtain.  Here’s why:

When I was in Congo eight months ago one of the men I met told me that Congolese are more concerned about Ebola than AIDS.  Given our current predicament in Africa with Ebola, this seems poetic.  Back in April when I heard this I thought that was rather foolish.  Now, seeing how quickly Ebola spreads and how difficult it is to contain in Africa, where sanitation is grossly lacking, I understand his reasoning.  Nevertheless, I was surprised by his laissez-faire attitude toward the risk of HIV/AIDS.

Another man I met in Congo told me how AIDS was not a problem because, “we use the condom.”  Well, not long after that I learned what that meant.  The government and NGOs in Congo- Congo reportedly has more NGOs and UN Peacekeepers that anywhere else on earth- have launched nationwide campaigns to “condomize.”  That’s right, it’s so important we made it a verb!  While safe sex propaganda is everywhere in Africa it turns out there is a problem with the marketing message.  As someone who teaches Marketing, perhaps we need to be a little more direct.  Olivier went on to explain that in order to please their government, they wear condoms.  But, the whole point of sex is to join together bodily fluids.  So in order to achieve both goals, they wear condoms, but first cut they tip off so that bodily fluids may be exchanged. WHAT THE #&$*?????  Yes, that was my reaction too.

As I was telling my class last week, the good thing is that no one actually dies from AIDS in Africa.  Before I moved to Africa I had to take a physical.  As mandated by the Botswana government, I was required to have a TB test to enter the country.  Without the test I could not become a resident.  Sitting in the doctor’s office in Lubbock my doctor thought this was ludicrous.  “I can’t imagine they care if you bring this into the country, if anything, shouldn’t we be concerned about you being exposed to it while you are there?” she asked.  My doctor couldn’t even remember the last time she had administered the test, and as a result, filled out the form incorrectly. I ended up having to return a second time to get retested. But as I was saying no one in Africa dies from AIDS.  No, not at all.  But TONS of people die from TB.

You know, “The first rule of Fight Club is you don’t talk about Fight Club?”  Well, it’s kind of the same deal.  We talk endlessly about HIV/AIDS- go to this workshop, get tested, read this brochure, tell your friends.  Yet no one actually has it and no one dies from it.  I can’t tell you how many funerals I have been invited to (in Africa), where someone has died from TB.  Answer: A LOT.   People willingly talk about and show evidence if they DON’T have it, but AIDS patients in Africa are like unicorns, everyone has heard about it, but never actually seen one before.

As I was saying, I think the desire to eradicate AIDS in the next 15 years is admirable.  However, I have little hope that this can be achieved because I think there are a number of cultural barriers which make this a serious challenge.  I should also mention that perhaps the most significant explanation for why I think this will fail is because this is a “preaching to the choir” sort of situation.  In Botswana there is at least one newspaper article every week about HIV/AIDS.  Guess how many newspapers in Botswana ran front page articles about World AIDS Day? Not one.

In case you were interested, here are some of the medical PR campaigns I’ve seen around Africa.  Sleep under a mosquito net to avoid malaria:

Get your Yellow Fever vaccination:

Use a condom:

And this is also related to HIV/AIDS and methods to prevent the transfer of the disease from mother to baby during birth:

Requiem for a Suitcase

Another one bites the dust.  Actually, another one, two, three bites the dust.  Remember how when I first arrived in Botswana one of my bags had a giant hole in it?  Well, there is something to be said for duct tape and shrink wrap.  I didn’t want to buy another piece of luggage while in Africa, so I saved it, duct taped it back together, filled it with a bunch of stuff, and then had it plastic wrapped at the Joburg airport.  TA-DA!  It actually made it all the way home.

And then there was my luggage that was forever lost.  First in Ethiopia for several weeks.  Then it went MIA when they forgot to put it on the plane from Joburg to Gabs.  I used that one most of the time I was travelling around Africa for the past year.  But by May the zipper had broken, so I could only half unzip it.  By June it had deteriorated to not opening at all.  So, yet again, I duct taped it together and then had it wrapped at the airport.  Thankfully, that one made it all the way back to the U.S. as well.

Then there was my rolling carry-on.  The wheels on that broke months ago.  So by Christmas it no longer rolled.  It was simply a “drag it all over the place and explain to porters, bellmen and anyone else who tried to help me with my bag not to worry because it was already broken” kind of bag.

Well, today I finally made the move to bury (in the dumpster) my three pieces of luggage, taken to Africa, only to meet their maker and return lifeless.  I suppose this is just one of the steps to moving forward and saying good-bye to my time in Africa.

On the bright side, I got new luggage!  I highly recommend my new TravelPro roller bags.  They are lighter and seem to have more room than my old luggage (which by the way lasted me a record 239 passport stamps!).

Out with the old….

In with the new….

Of course, that being said, I wouldn’t be terribly heartbroken if I didn’t take an international trip for a while.  Then again, you never know.

Stowaway

For the past two hours I’ve been watching CNN.  Actually, that’s not 100% true.  For the past two hours I’ve been writing a research article with the television on in the background tuned to CNN.  One hundred and nineteen minutes of that broadcast was dedicated to Hamas, Gaza, the sanctions against Russia and the Malaysia airlines crash.  In the last 60 seconds Anderson Cooper squeezed in a story about a stowaway found on a U.S. Air Force plane.  In case you missed it a U.S. Air Force plane landed in Germany yesterday after a trip to Africa.  Upon landing, the maintenance crew discovered the dead body of a “young black man presumed to be African” in the wheel well which housed the landing equipment.  By a show of hands, how many people have heard about similar incidents in the past?  No one?  I didn’t think so.

Believe it or not, this is actually a very common occurrence.  Of course this is probably news to anyone reading this because the media only reports stories which sell papers or directly impacts the lives of their viewers.  As a general rule, stories about nameless individuals from countries most people have never heard of before, who are dead anyway, don’t provide a return on investment, so the media houses don’t report it.  But stowaways happen all the time, particularly on international flights out of African countries.

During my time in Africa I met a number of people who worked for the UN, the Red Cross, the World Bank, the IMF and various other NGOs.  The rule is if you see a white person travelling alone in an African country (especially if it is a country most foreigners don’t frequent) there is a high likelihood they are associated with one of these types of organizations.  I was approached countless times and asked point blank, “Who are you with?” meaning, “Which NGO do you work for?” When I would respond that I was a tourism professor visiting XYZ country as a Fulbright Scholar people would look at me as if I had lost my mind.  In short this expression translated to, “What is WRONG with you?  You mean you CHOSE to come here?  By your own free will?  SERIOUSLY????”

The good thing about meeting all these globe-trotting do-goers is that they love to talk about the misery associated with their chosen professions.  I was once on a plane with a man who had worked for the IMF in about a dozen African countries over more than two decades.  People always think I’m a great person to invite to a dinner party because I have good stories about my travels.  Well, if I was throwing the party, I would invite this guy.  Over the course of our four hour flight, and then two dinners together later that same week, I learned about how to obtain illegal weapons, how to embezzle and bribe high ranking government officials, methods used to torture private civilians and among other things, the prevalence of stowaways.

As our flight was landing we were delayed on the tarmac for over an hour.  The flight crew made no effort to explain the delay but we could see the airport less than 100 yards away.  They refused to open the doors telling us only, “There is a problem with one of the wheels and we cannot deplane until the officials investigate.”  Upon hearing this, my neighbor Mr. IMF said, “God I hope this isn’t another bloody stowaway.”

While security in some areas of Africa can be downright frightening at times, it appears most African countries have a significant deficiency when it comes to securing the planes and runways themselves.  Mr. IMF told me that on a regular basis (at least monthly or more often) “kids,” sneak onto airfields and climb into the wheel wells of planes in hopes of catching a free ride to a better life.  He said one of the most unfortunate incidents happened on a commercial flight from Equatorial Guinea to France (I think).  He said three boys, no older 12, died during the flight.  When French authorities found them the smallest, and likely the youngest one, was gripping a note which had written on it something to the effect of, “We are seeking a new life in France.  If we die, please consider helping our younger brothers back home.  They need you.”

I think the only reason yesterday’s stowaway situation was granted any air time was strictly because of the recent Ebola outbreaks in Africa and the fact the plane had visited several countries currently suffering from this illness.  Otherwise, this likely would have never been reported.  I guess there are two morals to today’s story: 1. despite all the best efforts at attempting to maintain a secure existence, people are always finding ways around it, and 2. desperate people are willing to take extreme measures, even when they know they are unlikely to succeed.

Money, Money, Money, Money...MOOOOOO-NEY!

Though I’m not scheduled to leave Africa for a few more weeks, I thought it a good idea to start going through all my belongings and trying to downsize as much as possible.  Believe it or not, I spent a good 20 minutes trying to streamline my wallet this morning.  As a rule, when I travel, I eliminate all unnecessary items from my wallet.  When friends come to visit and I see them carrying a wallet full of 10 different credit cards, their library card, their Red Cross blood donor card, their Social Security card, and countless other cards they will never use, but are highly likely to lose here, I cringe.  When I moved to Africa I brought the following: 1 personal credit card, 1 credit card for university-related/business purposes, 1 bank debit card, my travel insurance card, and my emergency evacuation/I’M IN A LOT OF TROUBLE GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE! supplementary insurance card.  That’s it!  I have since added a Botswana driver’s license.

Despite having the two credit cards and the debit card, I only use these about half the time.  Southern Africa has begun using plastic on a more regular basis, but Zimbabwe and most of central and east Africa still operate on a strictly cash system.  I knew cash would be necessary, so when I came here I brought $5,000 with me and have since changed or used most of it.  Similar to the patriotism displayed in my blog post about how I was proud to be an American and would NEVER give up my passport to obtain citizenship elsewhere, there is a lot to be said about the power of the U.S. dollar.  You know the commercial, “Visa: Accepted Everywhere”?  Not true.  It should really be, “U.S. Dollars: Accepted Everywhere.”  Though I should add that when travelling to Africa if you plan to bring a credit card, choose Visa.  My university card is a Master Card and I haven’t been able to use it several times because Master Card isn’t as widely accepted as Visa.  Apparently those Olympics commercials with Morgan Freeman ARE telling the truth.

As I was organizing my wallet today there was no need to go through my cards as those have remained stagnant.  But my supply of banknotes and coins has changed considerably.  My stash of U.S. dollars is barely enough to get me through the next couple months, but I can now rest assured that if I get stranded in any one of a dozen African countries I can buy a bottle of water, and in some cases, even dinner if necessary.  Here are some of the bills I’ve collected during my tenure in Africa:

(Left to right, top to bottom): Ugandan Shilling, Rwandan Franc, Congolese Franc, Ethiopian Birr, Zimbabwean Dollar (This is no longer in circulation. Zimbabwe has no official currency, so the U.S. dollar is primarily used, but you can now use 8 different foreign currencies as legal tender), Zambian Kwacha, U.S. Dollar, Kenyan Shilling, Namibian Dollar, Botswana Pula, Sierra Leonean Leone, South African Rand, and Lesotho Loti.

None of these bills are worth more than a dollar or two, except for the Rand and Pula which are about $20 and $23, respectively.  But I will definitely spend those as SA and Botswana are where I will be most of the time until I leave. 

Soweto: South Africa’s Largest and Most Famous Township

When Nelson Mandela died back in December, you may have heard about his roots in Soweto.  Soweto is the largest and most famous township in Johannesburg, South Africa.  Soweto is short for South Western Township.  A township is a black, shantytown settlement. During apartheid in South Africa, towns and cities were segregated by race and black citizens were forced to leave their freehold properties and move into townships.  For the most part, these townships were primarily overcrowded, under-resourced, and exceptionally poor.  As Amanda, Ashleigh and I have been driving around in Botswana and South Africa they have seen several of these shantytowns and been curious about them.  Since it is considered unsafe to visit one of these neighborhoods without the assistance of a local who lives there, I decided it best to organize a tour for us.  And since Soweto is the most prolific example of a township I elected to do the tour there.

The interesting thing about Soweto is that it is now like a normal city.  There are two million people who live there now.  Granted, a huge portion of Soweto is comprised of tin one-room houses in which 10+ people live in each without electricity or indoor plumbing, but they have middle and upper class areas as well.  For instance, Mandela’s second wife, Winnie, owns (and still lives in) a giant home in a neighborhood with manicured lawns, BMWs and swimming pools.  This isn’t her house, but this is an example of one of the upper class residential areas:

Soweto also has one of the largest, and nicest, malls I have seen in South Africa.  The best part of this mall is that it is 100% locally owned.  There is even a McDonald’s (far right side of pic):

Of course, the tiny shanties dominate Soweto:

We were able to walk through the township and even visit our tour guide’s home there.  He said there were about 1,000 shanties in this neighborhood and everyone uses ONE tap to obtain water.  The woman in the bright green shirt is using the tap in this photo while the other women are waiting their turn:

And here is the inside of our guide’s home:

As we were leaving the shantytown we saw this guy who was collecting discarded plastic bottles and cans to turn in to the recycling center for a few dollars.  He had amassed all this since the beginning of the day:

One of the last stops on our tour was the Johannesburg cooling towers.  These were part of the old power plant which is no longer in operation.  Instead, they serve as a giant billboard-type advertisement while simultaneously giving thrill seekers the opportunity to bungee jump:

Proud to be an American

Today I went with a friend to support her in making what I consider to be a very foolish decision.  She surrendered her British passport to become a Botswana citizen.

It’s not that I am opposed to her becoming Motswana.  I’m totally fine with that.  But I am opposed to her losing her British citizenship.  Unfortunately, Botswana does not permit dual citizenship. If you want to become Motswana you must forfeit whatever previous nationality you claimed.

After travelling throughout Africa, and a large portion of the rest of the world, there is one thing I have discovered: Being an American is… PRICELESS!

I truly believe there is nothing quite so valuable as an American passport.  There have been countless times where I have arrived somewhere, flashed my U.S. passport and been waived right through.  In fact, a couple of times they haven’t even looked to verify my name or picture, they just see the navy blue passport cover with the gold lettering and U.S. Coat of Arms and tell me to keep on walking.

Of course, I have to admit, I do cheat a little.  As you can see I have a “Product of Botswana” sticker on the front of my passport.  This means I am doubly protected.  I’m not sure if that is actually true or not, but that’s my perception.  When I went to visit a greenhouse back in the spring (September) they were putting those stickers on the produce packages.  I lifted one and had nowhere to put it, except my passport.  It’s been there ever since.  The way I look at it, the American passport gets me preferential treatment almost anywhere.  When that fails, they see my “Product of Botswana” sticker, look at me quizzically and when I say, “I’m an African resident!” they smile and decide I’m harmless.

Regardless of where I live in the world I will always admit I am proud to be an American, and there is nothing tempting enough for me to give that up… EVER!

Packing Your African Bug Out Bag

I recently received a note on one of my blog posts from my friend Lisa who said that my daily stories provide excellent dinner table conversation for her and her husband.  She mentioned that her family was preparing to move to a natural disaster zone where there were occasional snake problems.  Having read about my experience with the cobra she was concerned about how to handle the situation if a snake entered her home because she couldn’t call the Botswana army to do a snake extraction in Florida.  Lisa recounted a conversation with her husband in which the two of them wondered, “What else do you think Kelly would recommend for survival in a natural disaster area?”

Back in Texas we have a faculty member on staff who is always talking about emergency preparedness and “honoring the threat.”  I’m afraid to visit his home because he describes it like a James Bond type of hideout.  Apparently he has a giant knife, hand grenades or a rocket launcher hidden behind every door, including under the sink of his guest bathroom.  In addition, Dr. Bond likes to discuss the importance of a Bug Out Bag in his classes.  For those of you who may be less familiar, a Bug Out Bag is basically a bag which you always have packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice in the event you have to evacuate unexpectedly due to an emergency.  Here are the contents of my Bug Out Bag, which I also travel with, here in Africa:  

1. Duct Tape.  Duct tape can be used to plug holes in screens to keep the mosquitoes out, to hold your luggage together when it gets ripped, or to keep you from bleeding to death.  I once cut my hand badly on a tin roof.  It was a Sunday afternoon so there were no hospitals open and I was leaving on a flight to Amsterdam the next morning.  No matter what I did the cut wouldn’t stop bleeding.  I duct taped a washcloth around my hand until I got to Amsterdam and could get stitches. 

2. Wedding Ring.  Since I can’t travel with my fake husband I can at least travel with my fake wedding ring.  I am also 11 weeks pregnant and have been exactly 11 weeks pregnant for over a year now.  Fidelity is not taken seriously here, so saying you have a husband and showing the ring as proof does not deter very aggressive, unwanted advances.  But motherhood is highly respected.  Plus research shows that if a woman tells her rapist she is pregnant her attacker is less likely to complete the assault, so I have used this little fib as a preemptive warning in a few particularly scary situations.

3. Hand Sanitizer and Toilet Paper.  Nine times out of ten it is more hygienic to use a bush to relieve yourself than to use a public toilet if you are outside the confines of your home/hotel.  But when you are in the middle of the African bush there are no toilets anyway, so you have to use a bush regardless.  Might as well be prepared. 

4. Needles, Malaria Medication, Vaccination Card, Water Purification Tablets.  Fortunately I haven’t had to use the needles yet (fingers crossed I will make it out of here and not need to), but I always bring them with me because you never know what kinds of medical supplies will be available in the event of an emergency.  

5. U.S. Dollars in small denominations.  I think I’ve mentioned corruption a few times before.  The good thing is, if someone is going to bribe you they are more likely to accept U.S. dollars than any other currency.  When I came to Africa this time I brought $5,000 in small bills; I’ve used most of them.  

6. Head Lamp and Lighter.  You may have heard in passing that we have problems with electricity.  Or you may be stuck in a four-star hotel with electricity, but no light bulbs in the sockets.  If you can’t find something safe to set on fire with the lighter then you can always use your headlamp. 

7. Facial Wipes and Goggles.  I think I may have also mentioned once or twice that we have lots of problems with water throughout Africa.  Sometimes you have water, sometimes you don’t.  Sometimes you have water, but it’s dangerous if you get it in your eyes.  In that case you wear goggles in the shower and then wash your eyes out with bottled water or use facial wipes.  

8. Laundry Detergent and Sink Stopper.  The important instruction here is DO NOT USE WHITE LAUNDRY DETERGENT!  White powder=drugs.  So I use blue laundry detergent.  Depending on where I am travelling I often take only three or four sets of clothes and wash them by hand in my sink each night.  But you need to be careful because in many countries you have to iron ALL YOUR CLOTHES in order to kill the mango fly eggs.  If the mango fly eggs hatch on your clothes they burrow under your skin and you can literately feel them moving around underneath the surface.  Then you have to go to the doctor to have them cut out. As a general rule this is not fun. 

9. Sporf, Pens, Tweezers and Nail Clipper. It’s always a good idea to travel with a sporf (spoon-fork-knife combo), because you never know when you might need an eating utensil and there won’t be any available.  Same goes for pens.  Somehow, no one EVER has a writing instrument.  If you don’t bring your own don’t bother asking for one because no one else will have one either.  Since you can’t travel with scissors, tweezers and nail clippers are good alternatives; you can use them when you need to cut something.

I think that pretty much wraps up my African Bug Out Bag.  Though I would recommend snacks as well.  With all the food shortages we have here you can’t be guaranteed you will find something you want/need when you want/need it.  With that being said, here is one final piece of advice concerning snacks:  If you are driving down the road and see a lone orange tree off to the side with giant oranges on it that look SO GOOD just keep driving.  There is a reason no one else has come along and picked them off sooner.  Why?  Land mines.

HAPPY PACKING!

A Few Final Pictures from Congo

While there are 54 countries in Africa, a lot of those nations may look very similar to the outside observer.  And for good reason.  Many countries across Africa suffer from some of the same challenges: poverty, food shortages, health problems, etc.  In many ways Congo looked similar to several other areas I’ve been to, but there were a few distinctions, or at least phenomena which were more prevalent here than in other places, that I wanted to share.

Petrol (gas) stations were few and far between.  I think I only counted three the entire time I was in the country.  So aspiring entrepreneurs will travel into town, purchase fuel, and then sell it in plastic water bottles scattered throughout the country.  If you remember during Hurricane Sandy last year New York residents began showing up at gas stations with empty 5-liter water bottles, or plastic gallon milk jugs because all the retail stores ran out of gas cans. But the gas stations refused to sell to anyone without a proper gas can due to safety regulations.  Congo does not appear to have those safety policies in place: (Sorry, you need to turn you head 90 degrees to the right.)

In 1994 after the Rwandan genocide, two million genocidaires crossed the border into Congo in less than a week to avoid being prosecuted for human rights violations.  The UN and international community set up refugee camps to accommodate the massive influx of people.  Those refugee camps still exist!  And they extend for MILES.  The reason those people are still refugees after 20 years is partly due to the fact they don’t want to go to jail for crimes during the genocide, and part of it is because they simply don’t have the money to return to Rwanda or move elsewhere:

During the volcanic eruption in 2002, the water pipes in Goma were destroyed.  They are attempting to lay new pipes, but I’m told digging through hardened lava is quite a chore, so it is slow going.  Similar to the fuel-filled water bottle ventures, here are people filling jerry cans in Lake Kivu and then cycling around town selling them:

As I mentioned, part of the reason for my trip to DRC was to visit the Tourism Program at the University of Goma:

The class I visited:

Do you see the wooden bike on the right hand side?  These things were all over the place in DRC.  It was the main method for transporting goods since no one really owned a vehicle:

And finally, the Nyiragongo Volcano:

Overall, it was an interesting trip to Congo.  I’m glad I went and can’t imagine ever going back.  But if nothing else, it gives me a new appreciation for… EVERYTHING.

A Very Busy Few Months Ahead

One of the interesting aspects of being a Fulbrighter is that you are given a lot of freedom.  As long as you are fulfilling your obligations to your host institution it is up to you how you spend the rest of your time.  There are no hard and fast rules in terms of what you are expected to accomplish, which is a good thing as red-tape and politics can make some objectives much more difficult than others.

Last year before I came to Botswana I contacted another Fulbright Scholar.  I asked about the process you had to go through in order to get permission to do research.  She informed me it was much more arduous than in the U.S. and that while she had applied for a research permit in August it wasn’t granted until May.  She left in June.

Fortunately for me I didn’t have nearly as difficult of a time obtaining my permit and IRB approval to conduct my research.  But a lot of that is pure luck; catching the right person who actually knows the answer to your question on a day when they are happy and willing to help you. 

Over the past seven months I have been busy teaching, doing research and travelling.  Most of my travel has been work related for data collection or serving as a guest speaker at other universities, though some of it has been for fun as well.  Since I arrived back from Christmas I’ve had several tourism colleagues throughout the continent invite me to visit them at their universities to guest lecture for a few days.  In order to juggle all the requests, along with other side trips I wanted to take before I left I decided to sit down and plan out the next six months.  Thank goodness I did otherwise I would have never been able to squeeze in another commitment.  This is my calendar for the next six months.  All of the shaded blocks are when I am travelling:

To give you a rundown here is what is on my calendar:

Tomorrow: Head to Cape Town, South Africa for three days to teach at Stellenbosch University.

March: Johannesburg for three days to obtain my DRC visa and visit a colleague at Vaal University with whom I am writing an article.  Then on to Lesotho to visit some of our students currently there on internship.  From Lesotho, go to Mozambique to meet a fellow Fulbrighter for some fun. (This trip takes place during our mid-semester break.)

First week of April: Zanzibar, Tanzania to meet an Egyptian friend who lives in Nairobi, Kenya to hang out on the beach for a long weekend.

Middle-Late April: Fly to Kigali, Rwanda to teach at the Rwanda Tourism University College.  From there head to Goma, Democratic Republic of Congo to teach at University of Goma and then climb the volcano over the weekend.  On the way home stop in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia for three days to give Ethiopia a chance to redeem itself after the luggage fiasco.

May: Amanda and Ashleigh come to visit me in Botswana!  Finally, I get to play host to friends from home.

June: Back to Tanzania to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro.  Then Dad comes to visit for 10 days and I get to show him around Botswana.  The day Dad departs I go to Mauritius where I am presenting two papers at a conference.

July: Perhaps return to the U.S.? 

I would have to say if nothing else I have certainly taken full advantage of my time here.  And I think Fulbright has also gotten its money’s worth. I may have to give my passport a rest whenever I finally make it back across the ocean.