Nairobi and Addis

I have no photos from Nairobi other than the one of the advertisement for Obama, the Musical. I'm not sure why, other than perhaps because Nairobi looks much, much more a Western city, and seemed somehow less striking. It's a very green city, and we spent an afternoon in a lovely arboretum, walking among gigantic clusters of bamboo and enormous trees of all kinds. It was beautiful, and I envied the families and groups of giggling teenage girls: there is nowhere green, quiet, and clean in Liberia to go and relax on a Sunday afternoon.

After a few days in Nairobi, we went onto Addis. Because Ethiopia is still a despearately poor country, it's somewhat shocking to visit places such as the Sheraton, where I tried (unsuccessfully) to exchange some AmEx gift checks.
From our room, we could see one of the city's largest cathedrals, beyond the dozens of construction projects.

We saw some amazing Ethiopian dancers at a restaurant. The show was a little touristy, but still pretty amazing. This clip is very dark, but at the very beginning you can make out the dancers slinging their heads around in circles in a truly amazing way.



I like the next photo because it shows two of the major factors affecting growth in Africa: 1) Western companies are increasingly realizing that developing economies have tremendous potential for growth; 2) the presence of Chinese investors, companies, and contractors.

Zanzibar, Part II

Sorry to be posting these pictures so late. Now that we're back in the land of high speed Internet connections, the rest of the pictures from this year will go up very soon. Here's a map showing Zanzibar's location:


View Larger Map


So...back to our October vacation: First stop was Zanzibar, which is the name of an island (the largest one in the archipelago of the same name.) After a few days in largest city, Stone Town, we took a tiny flight to the other large island nearby, Pemba. Here's Zanzibar from our teeny plane:


On Pemba, we stayed at a place with an absolutely stunning view of the ocean.


We saw a couple unbelievable sunsets.

There were many naps (leading to blissful post-nap state):


...and we went on a fun, if uneventful, snorkeling trip. Here I am in an ill-fitting wetsuit during the break.


On the way to snorkeling we saw some boats full of fishermen:


After a few beautiful days in Pemba, we headed back to Zanzibar's east coast. We woke up early to see the sunrise, which was beautiful, if a bit cloudy.

One of us looks less excited to see the sunrise.


We biked on the beach at low tide.

And then onto the next flight...

Zanzibar, Part I

Two weeks ago, after several days of pre-vacation madness, hundreds of While I'm gone... emails, and three flights, we landed in Zanzibar.

Zanzibar, a semi- autonomous island off Tanzania's east coast of Tanzania, has a colorful history, both as a major crossroads for traders from Africa, Arabia, India, and Indonesian and as the home to dozens of lush, highly coveted spice plantations. Compared to sullen, struggling Liberia, Zanzibar was calm...even quiet.






Despite its relatively strong tourism industry, Zanzibar is still fairly poor. (I couldn't find any hard numbers, but nominal GDP per capita seems to be about $428/year. As a point of comparison, Liberia's is only $195/year.) Judging by the conversations we had with locals (ok, just one local - our tour guide) and by this sign, the government has some work to do to convince the population of its good intentions.

We spent a few indulgent days in Zanzibar's largest city, Stone Town at an opulent hotel called 236 Hurumzi (formerly known as Emerson and Green.


For our first dinner, we ate grilled seafood from a street market - a gigantic crab claw with sweet, tender flesh; smoky, chewy octopus; and soft salty mussels - all doused in fresh lime juice and dipped in a spicy-sweet tomato sauce.

We couldn't resist going on a spice tour - for good reason. A very knowledgeable guide brought us to a spice farm, where we saw, sniffed, and tasted products both familiar (vanilla, cloves, oranges) and unfamiliar (the "lipstick" plant). Here I am, sampling the latter:





And Peter, enjoying a familiar treat:



During the tour, a young boy demonstrated how to harvest coconuts. In this photo, you can see the piece of rope around his feet used to provide support, as well as the gigantic knife in his back pocket. Yikes.


The farm workers gave me an amazing little frog woven of leaves.


After the tour, we ate a traditional lunch at a Zanzibari home. I have no idea whose house we visited, but the food was delicious. Fragrant rice scented with cloves and cinnamon under a mysteriously spicy yellow lentil sauce, small chunks of fried tuna, a cool tomato and red onion relish, garlicky shredded spinach. And to wash it all down, fresh, juicy oranges.

We were happy and rested and ready for Part II...

Obamamania...in Kenya!

We've been on vacation for the last 10 days, and we've been pretty good about staying off email. Zanzibar and Pemba (a smaller island north of Zanzibar) made it easy. I'll post more pictures later this week, but here's the gist of it:


Now, however, we’re in Kenya, a.k.a. “Barack Obama’s ancestral land.” I had expected a bit of Obamamania, but this is amazing. He isn’t just in the paper, he’s on nearly every page of the paper. Today’s Daily Nation included these stories (among others):

Only a few had faith in Obama in the early days
Big parties planned in US and Kenya to celebrate an Obama victory
Family suspends daily media briefings
What Kenyans said on possibility of Obama win
Kisumu to hold vigil to keep up with results
Obama must not lose sight of black people’s struggle
Village upbeat about change of fortunes
Democrat unites Kenyans of all shades
Visit to fatherland ‘was a wonderful time’ for US senator and his family
What Africa will gain from winner
Tourism banks on Obama win

Yesterday, Peter’s Kenyan Clinton Foundation colleagues were deep in discussion about the merits of various states. Ohio’s not so bad... Today, the whole office (six Kenyans ages 22-45 plus Peter's British colleague from the Liberia office) was checking poll results online, and repeatedly checking CNN coverage. This was especially funny, since Nairobi is seven hours ahead of the East Coast, and nothing had happened yet.

Unfortunately, we are flying out early tomorrow morning. Not only will we be on a plane right as preliminary election results will be announced, but we will miss our last chance to see "Obama, the Musical."

keeping up with events at home

About ten days ago, a fellow American expat held an Obama fundraiser here. He showed a tape of the Vice Presidential debate - during which the crowd played Palin Bingo - and by the end of the night, we had raised several thousand dollars for the campaign. The real question is whether there have been Monrovia McCain fundraisers, as well...

happy new year

Two weeks ago, we hosted Rosh Hashanah dinner at our apartment for fifteen Monrovia-based Jews and assorted friends (such as myself and our flatmate, Denise). Our other flatmate Jim estimates that this group represents close to 100% of the Jews who have wandered to Liberia, but Peter is sure there are more out there and the numbers are growing daily. In fact, Peter may be right, as the same day as our dinner, the local newspaper reported that a rather famous Liberian had discovered Judaism:


Charles Taylor, of course, is the ex-Liberian President currently being tried in The Hague for war crimes. Does the text under his picture represent Taylor's point of view? Or was it just the newspaper editorializing, perhaps, about the benefits of Judaism? We'll never know.

Our friend Dan led the first prayer, and then we had apples and honey, which symbolize the hopes of a sweet new year.

Our menu included foods from a few cultures:

Apples and honey
Chicken satay with peanut dipping sauce
Ratatouille and bread
Homemade round challah with and without raisins
Brisket with roasted sweet potatoes, carrots, prunes, and dates
Roasted squash
Collard greens sauted with onions and white wine
Chocolate cake with coconut frosting

It was one of the more successful dinner parties we've had, I think, mostly because we started the preparations so early. On the Saturday before the dinner, Peter, Denise, and Jim visited a butcher shop on Benson Street in search of brisket. Jim and Peter brought a sketch of a cow to indicate the area of the brisket, and the butcher used an axe - yes, an axe - to hack it off the cow carcass hanging from the ceiling. Later, they told me that said cow's head was sitting on the ground of the shop.

On Sunday night at about 8:30, Peter started preparations for cooking the brisket. Why hadn't he started earlier? I can't really remember, but it probably had to do with the fact that we were lazing around at the beach that day. I made fun of him, which I would later regret. Peter stayed up until 1:30.

On Monday night, at about the same time, I cursed myself for having procrastinated again, and started baking challah at 9 PM. At midnight, the dough hadn't risen enough, but I figured it just needed more time. I decided to take a quick nap, but a few minutes after I turned off the light, I couldn't stop thinking: What did I do wrong? I bake bread every weekend...Suddenly I realized I had used a teaspoon of yeast, instead of a tablespoon. I dissolved some more yeast in warm water to make sure it was alive, but then realized that with so much more water, I would need more flour. Thirty minutes later, I had turned the dough back into a mushy mess...and now I needed to braid it. Oy.

I had known that round challah is often eaten at Rosh Hashanah, but for some reason I also wanted to bake a loaf with six braids, rather than the usual three. At 1 AM I found myself giggling as I tried to maneuver lumpy, sticky ropes of dough into a complex, elegant braid. They were pale, masses of mush. I let them sit in the refrigerator for a few hours, and at 5:30 AM, Peter kindly got out of bed to take the dough out of the refrigerator. I got up an hour later to bake them, and they actually looked great. Thank god for egg wash, which makes even my challah look presentable.

On Tuesday, the day of the dinner, we braised the brisket for a few more hours, cooked the squash and collard greens, and our friend Leah brought over the chicken and ratatouille.

Notwithstanding our manic midnight cooking, the dinner was really wonderful.









Here's a rough approximation of Pete's brisket recipe:


Pete's Brisket with Sweet Potato and Carrot
Adapted from a recipe on the Florida Department of Agriculture website (although he attests that most of the inspiration came from his mom's tsimmes recipe.)

Ingredients
6 medium onions, chopped
8 large cloves garlic, chopped
6 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
5 cups chicken stock or canned broth
3 cups "Sangria" (or whatever inexpensive sweet wine you can find)
3 bay leaves
2 5-pound boneless first-cut beef briskets
2 handfuls of dried dates
1 1/2 cups pitted prunes
3 pounds sweet potato, peeled, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
6 large carrots, peeled, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
minced fresh parsley


Preparation
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Heat oil in heavy large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add onions and garlic and cook until beginning to brown, stirring frequently, about 15 minutes. Add 1 teaspoon allspice and crushed red pepper and stir 20 seconds. Add chicken stock, wine and bay leaves. Boil 10 minutes to blend flavors. Pour into gigantic roasting pan.

Make a mixture of salt, black pepper and olive oil and rub in to the brisket. Add brisket to roasting pan, fat side up. Add dried dates and pitted prunes. Cover and bake 1 1/2 hours. Add sweet potatoes and carrots to roasting pan. Cover and cook until brisket is very tender, about 5 hours longer. Remove from oven and let stand 20 minutes. Remove brisket from pot and slice thinly across grain. Arrange on platter. Degrease pan juices. Spoon pan juices over meat. Arrange fruit and vegetables around meat. Garnish with minced fresh parsley and serve.

If cooking in advance, as we did, slice the brisket and place at the bottom of the roasting pan and cover with juices and vegetables. Reheat as needed.

Yield
16 servings

flag day and blue lake

A few weeks ago, we took a short road trip to Blue Lake. It was Flag Day, so we bought a little Liberian flag to show our national pride. (Photo to be posted tomorrow.)

After 90 minutes of fairly smooth driving, we were rewarded with a beautiful view:


That day, some UNMIL (United Nations Mission in Liberia) bigwigs were also gathering near Blue Lake. All over the country UNMIL troops have built schools, roads, toilets, and countless other public facilities. Without them, our presence - that is, of the hundreds of development workers - would be nearly impossible, mostly because UNMIL's 13,000 troops also provide a steady security presence. We weren't allowed to hang out where the VIPs were gathering, so we retreated up the hill where we could picnic with our grouper sandwiches, sodas, and Pringles. We had a lovely lunch, and as ate we heard strains of...wait...is that really Madonna's 'La Isla Bonita'?



One nice thing about the UN presence is that the troops take great pride - deservedly so - in their contributions to the country. At the top of the pictures above, you should be able to see some picnic tables and shelters, in an area named Pak Point for the Pakistani soldiers that constructed them.

All over the country there are signs for BANBATT, GHANBATT, and of course PAKBATT. According to UNMIL's website, soldiers from 49 countries are serving in Liberia.

The only downside about the UN troops - really, probably a downside about any military - is that it occasionally becomes true that many of them haven't interacted with women for many months. This is no big deal, and usually manifests itself in slightly awkward jokes and eager smiles. At Pak Point, we came upon some Jordanian soldiers celebrating the holiday with a little barbecue. The leader welcomed us and insisted on feeding us each a mouthful of delicious grilled chicken - and I mean by actually putting the chicken in each of our mouths himself. When Peter introduced me (protectively, as we are engaged but not yet married) as his wife, the Jordanian exclaimed, "Lucky man!" and smiled excitedly. "Lucky man!*

From Pak Point itself, we could see across the lake to where we had picnicked. It looks as though the lake was formed at a former quarry site, though no one could confirm this.


Later, I was sitting alone under one of the shelters while Peter chatted on the phone with a friend, and some solidiers approached me. Could I take a picture of them? Sure, sure. I started to get up and reach for one man's camera. No, no, they explained. They each wanted to be in a photograph with me. Oh. Um, ok.

even more like home

Although I sometimes hate myself for it, our home here seems extremely luxurious - far fancier than our homes in New York and Philly. But our apartment is too big, even for four adults. It seems as though the only design criteria for the place was simply: As Big As Possible.

Because our kitchen is so gigantic, it used to be a somewhat difficult place for cooking. It has relatively little counter space, and I would resort - as I did in New York and London - to using the microwave as a pot stand or the floor as a an extra dish rack. So Peter, because he takes excellent care of me, commissioned a local carpenter to build us a kitchen island:



Having the island made our preparations for Saturday night's dinner party easy. Again we went to the fish market, and bought two large fish. Apparently, we bought two mullets. Here I am, looking both pleased and terrified by the fish.

Peter carved the mullets into several huge fillets, and again we had a feast of sweet, firm fish. Amazingly, we found red bell peppers at the market - banged up for sure, but the woman selling them cut off the bad parts and sold them to us at about $1.30/ pound.

For a starter we had some freshly popped (on the stove!) popcorn, and for dinner, we had grilled fish with a spicy pineapple chutney, grilled red peppers, roasted plantains, and a thai-style cabbage/grapefruit/peanut salad. Homemade mango ice cream for dessert. (Ok, the ice cream didn't exactly freeze, so we had very cold, chunky mango milkshakes.) I have to say, it was pretty damn good.

a normal weekend, sort of

Every once in a while, we have a weekend that's normal...almost. Last Saturday, we decided to go buy some fish for dinner. That's something we often used to do at home. So we went to the fish market down the street. There were five-foot long barracudas and giant red groupers - a bit much for the two of us, so we bought a "small" grouper:



For dinner that night we grilled a third of it: two thick, meaty steaks and its enormous head. With a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper, and a few splashes of lime juice, it was magic.


Later that night, I completed one of my numerous culinary experiments: homemade challah. Not too difficult, as it turns out (even if one accidentally uses cold water, instead of warm). Here's Pete, showing it off to our roommate, Jim.

Not quite as puffy as I'd hoped...but I'll try again next weekend.

Sunday was a beautiful day - maybe the best we've had. After two straight days of rain, the air was clear, rather than muggy. On days like these, Liberia seems like a pretty happy place. I printed out the Sunday New York Times crossword, and lounged around on the couch.

Before heading down to the pool, Peter and I made lunch. Putzing around the kitchen in our bathing suits, listening to the radio, it didn't seem so different than the time we spent in Florida last December, or in St. Maarten several months before that.

We used the leftover grilled fish and the challah to make fish salad sandwiches for lunch. At home, we would have had tuna salad on bagels, potato chips on the side, and maybe an apple for dessert. Here we have grouper salad on challah, plaintain chips on the side, and papaya for dessert. Pretty close, right? (Diet Coke on ice, in both cases.)

Not bad at all, for a Sunday afternoon.

more signs

As I've said before, very few signs here are printed. This is changing slowly, but for the most part, bumper stickers, signboards, and sometimes even bulletin boards are hand painted. Here are two of my recent favorites:






I didn't realize "the people" needed or wanted table tennis, but hey, who am I to say?