June 8, 2009

The End.

The suspense was killing you, I’m sure.

The Jinna-Chicago Reunion has come and gone. I’ve spent most of my time, so far, reacquainting myself with the city’s world-class eats, sprinkled with just a few whining fits about the cold weather. It’s good to be back!

My last two weeks were spent traveling around Kenya with Travis. It was an incredible tour of the country, from a rainforest in the western province to a Swahili island on the east coast. And we took just about every mode of transportation available, including donkeys.

Hell’s Gate
We rode bikes through the park along a dirt road, alongside giraffes, zebras and buffalo. And by foot, we explored a winding gorge through the volcanic surroundings. But women beware: baboons attack lone females left briefly by their boyfriends at the picnic site. Don’t learn this the way hard, like I did.



Kakamega Rainforest
It was everything you’d expect a rainforest to be: lush, green, wild, humid, rainy. But a hailstorm?


Mombasa
It took 17 hours to get from Nairobi to Mombasa by train. But the time flew by as we were lulled to sleep by the rocking of the car and the tempo of the tracks.


Eventually, we made our way out of the city and to our cottage on the beach.




Lamu
No cars, just donkeys. We relished the Swahili culture, happy people, and island views. We even got used to the earsplitting calls to prayer at 5am.



We were living the dream in our beautiful Swahili house.



I’ve been asked if it’s weird to be back. So far, I’ve transitioned without any real "shock" to the system. I made some good friends, saw some amazing sites, and lived some incredible adventures over the past 9 months. So that chapter is closed and a new one begins. Anyone out there looking to hire? Job hunting during America’s historic financial meltdown... That could make for an interesting new blog, huh?

May 11, 2009

My Year in Photos

For my last few weeks, I'll be travelling around Kenya with my boyfriend. The clock is ticking. He arrives this Friday and I fly back to Chicago on June 1! So there' s no better time than the present to post a slide show restrospective. You can never have enough of those, right?

May 10, 2009

Realm of the Ridiculous

NAIROBI, Kenya, May 10 (UPI) -- A Kenyan man has sued a women's activist group, claiming a sex boycott it organized affected his marriage and caused him stress.

James Kimondo is demanding damages from G-10, his lawyers told the Kenyan Broadcasting Corp. G-10, a coalition of women's groups, called for a one-week ban on sexual relations as a protest against the political infighting between President Mwai Kibaki and Prime Minister Raile Odinga.

Ann Njogu, the executive director of the Center for Rights Education and Awareness, said the boycott convinced leaders to begin talks to avert a return to the violence that hit the country after the last election. Kibaki and Odinga eventually formed a coalition government.

"I have not been served with the papers, but I was told they are coming and I am eagerly waiting," she told CNN. "It will be interesting to see the face of a man who is not willing to abstain for the sake of his country."

Kimondo in his lawsuit says the boycott caused symptoms that included headaches and insomnia.

April 29, 2009

Reel Scenes



Here is the video I produced for the Emmanuel Youth Empowerment Centre. It will be used for promotional and fundraising purposes. I haven't shot video since graduate school and I had only a miniDV camcorder and iMovie to work with, but I think it still conveys the value of the centre. Enjoy!

April 23, 2009

The Mungiki Madness

The latest international headlines out of Kenya are grim, as they usually are when they reach the world stage. At least 29 people are dead after an outbreak of violence just north of Nairobi. The last time Kenya made world news was when two human rights activists were murdered in the streets of Nairobi in March. What connects these two stories is one brutal gang, considered Kenya's version of the mafia: the Mungiki.



The Mungiki started in the 1980s as a pseudo-religious sect with political ambitions. But it's transformed into a nightmare group of militants which was banned in 2002. According to the
BBC:

"They extort, engage in fraud, robbery, murder and even kidnap their victims.

Media reports say the sect has evolved over the years into an organised and intimidating underworld gang with bases in Nairobi, and parts of Central and Rift Valley Provinces.

They control public transport routes and demand illegal levies from operators.

Mungiki followers reign supreme within city slums, notably Mathare in the east of the capital. Here they provide illegal water and electricity connections to hundreds of makeshift shacks.

Residents of the slums also have to pay a levy to the sect to be able to access communal toilets and for security during the night in the crime infested slums."

The recent violence erupted because local residents were fed up and fought back.



The activists killed in March were campaigning against extrajudicial killings of the Mungiki by the Kenyan police force. (Interestingly, five hours before the shootings, a government spokesman identified their organization as a front for the Mungiki.) A UN special rapporteur called for the dismissal of the police chief and the resignation of the Attorney-General.



But what do you do with a group of thugs without any regard for human life? Several Kenyans have told me extrajudicial killings are the only way. And "outsiders" like the UN and the U.S. only speak out when Mungiki members are killed. Where is the noise when the gang extorts, mutilates and beheads innocent Kenyans?


Considering how much there is to fear, to be angry about, I have a renewed appreciation for the warm smiles and persevering spirit of nearly every Kenyan I meet.

April 19, 2009

The End is Near

Classes are over. Shooting for the video is done. And the rainy season has started. All this means I’ve got a lot of time to reflect on my experience in the past 8 months.

A local Rotarian recently asked me what I’ve enjoyed about Kenya. And I found myself stumped. In a moment, I scanned my scrambled head for a singular favorite: weather, friendly people, food, landscape, culture? After my awkward “Uhh, the whole experience” response stumbled out of my mouth, I thought about why I don’t have a better answer.

Of course, there are plenty of things I like about Kenya. Sure, there are the banalities like food, weather and hospitality. The all-encompassing generalities like culture and attitude. And, to be fair, I’ve enjoyed things that are the less than noble, like the exchange rate. I could say all these things next time I’m asked. But the answer would be hollow, failing to capture the deep change and profound insights I’ve gained from this experience.

Being in Tanzania and Kenya has taught me more than any other travel has. Every day, I’ve had to choose whether to stay safely inside my comfort zone or venture outside it. I've battled with my insulated, privileged American outlook while proudly claiming our goodwill and leadership. I’ve learned that colonialism raped Africa’s past but too many Africans are letting it rob their future. And I’ve seen how those with food have many problems but those who don’t have only one.

Once I’m back in Chicago, I anticipate I’ll understand my African experience even better. I think I’ll see more of Kenya when I’m back in the US, appreciating the absence of things unnoticed now. An American living here told me going back the US is harder than coming to Kenya. Not only is there reverse culture shock but there’s the inevitability that friends and family can’t relate. “Some people treat it like you just came back from the supermarket.” That’s why I’m grateful my boyfriend will be here in less than a month. He’ll better understand where I’ve been and the readjustment I'll need to where I’m going.

April 13, 2009

Easter in Nakuru

There are an estimated 250,000 street kids in Kenya: a quarter-million kids without steady food or schooling, often sick or addicted to drugs. About 60,000 of them are in Nairobi. So the rest of the country also needs caring, capable homes for these kids.



This weekend, I went to the Nakuru area, about 200 km northwest of Nairobi. Megan, another Ambassadorial Scholar in Nairobi, has been volunteering with the Joseph Waweru Home School and she invited me to join her for a visit.



It was helpful to see how other boys centers are run and I picked up a few ideas to bring back to the Emmanuel Center. For instance, the boys at JWHS are given many creative outlets and I'd like to introduce more arts and crafts at Emmanuel.


Custom Painted Bedrooms


Easter Egg Decorating

What is true of both centers is the feeling of family, between the boys and the staff. It's heartwarming to witness genuine affection and concern amongst boys who, before coming to the home, were strangers with shared experiences of abandonment, hunger and struggle.



What is also true for all homes for orphans and street kids is the need for funds. Rotary Club of Lakeview has generously donated $500 to the Emmanuel Boys Center and the club president has matched it with $500 out of her own pocket. That will cover private school fees for 4 boys for a full year!

Primary school student: $250/yr.
Secondary school student: $320/ yr.

If you'd like to sponsor a boy, I've made it really easy to do so. You can now find a paypal link on my blog which will allow you to send money to me. That way, once received, I can coordinate the sponsorship directly with you. I'll let you know which boy is being sponsored, organize pen pals, and send updates/pictures of the boys!

March 29, 2009

Rotary Rally for the Disabled



Nearly 2,000 students with mental or physical handicaps had a chance to eat, drink and be merry this weekend. The event is organized by Rotary clubs in and around Nairobi each year. Held at the Nairobi fair grounds, students were treated to a day of music, dancing, face paintings, food, donkey rides, gifts, entertainers... and even a downpour of rain didn't dampen the spirit of the rally.


As one student boarded the bus to go back home, he told a Rotarian "Merry Christmas!" When he was met with a puzzled look, he explained this is the only Christmas he'll have. It was a memorable and moving event and I was so proud to help out.


I was busy coordinating the distribution of meals, snacks, and ice cream to the children and volunteers so I didn't get a chance to interact with the crowd. So thanks to fellow Ambassadorial Scholar Megan MacDonald for the beautiful photos.

March 25, 2009

Kibera


Kibera is Africa's largest slum and one of the biggest in the world. You may know of it from the book and movie The Constant Gardener.

Three of us -- a PhD student from Australia doing research in Kibera, a Kenyan activist, and I -- toured the area with Raphael Omondi, a Kibera resident, community organizer, and renown activist.


There are 1.5 million people living in Kibera’s 300 acres and it’s growing. (The slum covers the lighter middle third in image above.) Post-election protestors burned down countless farms in rural Kenya, adding to the food shortage crisis in the countryside. With jobs virtually nonexistent, rains scarce and hunger rampant, villagers move to Kibera, hopeful to find work in Nairobi.


Raphael (pictured in the middle) is the founder of Pamoja (togetherness), a foundation for Kibera youth. At only 20-years-old, Raphael has already done a lifetime’s work of empowering the community through job training programs, paying school fees for dozens of students, spearheading performing arts events, organizing tree plantings… He does it all, which explains why when someone like UN General Secretary Ban Ki Moon visits, he’s the tour guide.


"No Raila - No Peace"
Election violence was particularly gruesome here, with neighbors killing and raping each other, looting and burning down homes. “Raila” is the name of then presidential candidate Raila Odinga. He now occupies the newly formed Prime Minister seat in the Grand Coalition Government, which Kenyans often call the Grand Collusion Government.

Some of Kibera's youngest dwellers

March 21, 2009

Do Re Mi

I'm not exactly an extrovert.  But karaoke brings it out of me.  And thanks to Michael Jackson, I can express my ambassadorial endeavors through song.  My apologies.

March 17, 2009

Learning the Hard Way



A lone cactus in the desert. An island in a wavy ocean. The wanderings of my mind in the margins of my Medical Sociology notebook.

Lectures are mind numbing. For 2 out of the 3 hours, the professor reads his notes, which the students then copy verbatim.

Lecturer: “It may seem reasonable to suppose…”
(Students begin frantic note taking)
Lecturer: “It may seem reasonable to suppose… It may seem reasonable to suppose…that people consult their doctors…”
Student: “Can you slow down?”
Lecturer: “It may seem reasonable to suppose that people consult their doctors… consult their doctors…”
Student: “Their?”
Lecturer: “Their doctors… when they experience symptoms… when they experience, what? When they experience symptoms.”

That is, without exaggeration, how a lecture carries on for hours. Some professors even point out where a comma should go or new paragraph should start. I know I’ve had the benefit of an exceptional education and I didn’t expect classes here to compare with those at Northwestern. But this is one of the best schools in East Africa? How can Kenyans compete out there when so little independent and critical thinking occurs in here?

Occasionally, the lecturer breaks from his repetitive recitations and opens up a discussion. This is usually when I stop detailing a palm tree. I’ve unexpectedly learned more about gender relations during medical sociology discussions than about -- Oh, I don’t know -- medical sociology.

Lecturer: “Women go to the hospital for everything!”
(Students chuckle)
Lecturer, imitating a “typical” woman: “Oh I cut my finger! I’m dying. Take me the hospital.”
(Students throw back their heads, laughing)
Female student: “But, you know, I don’t do that. I go to a doctor if it’s serious only.”
(Lecturer laughs)
Lecturer: “Eh? Okay, maybe. But, you know, it’s mostly men who don’t worry over such things. A day doesn't go by when you women aren't either a patient or a doctor.”

Male generalization of female behavior is not new to me. After studying in Korea and now Africa, I’m aware of the big wide paternalistic world out there. What struck me was the reaction of the female students. They laughed, nodding their heads in agreement, even offering their own examples of absurd female conduct. Cliché though it may be, women are too often their own worst enemy. Case in point: Kenyan women prefer male doctors to female doctors.

“Why?”
(The entire class looked at me like I just admitted I’d never heard Barack Obama.)
Female student: “Because women aren’t sensitive. Men listen, give you attention. Women doctors are harsh.”
Lecturer: “Yeah, that’s a fact. Okay. New paragraph. There are four aspects of symptoms… Four aspects of symptoms…”

March 14, 2009

Nairobbery

I’ve been prepared for much worse. Malaria. Losing my passport. Having my camera stolen. I’ve managed to avoid all of these episodes. Another Ambassadorial Scholar, now relocated to Kampala, has been less fortunate, having been mugged, evicted, and robbed in both Tanzania and Uganda. But even when I’m being robbed, apparently, I’m lucky.

In hindsight, the entire affair was expertly orchestrated. Two men boarded the bus. One sat behind me and another sat two seats to my left. The latter started a coughing fit and motioned towards the window (where I was sitting) to spit. He switched seats with the boy next to me, feigning a congested chest and holding a rather large shopping bag. Suddenly, the man behind me starts saying, “Hey! Put on your seat belt! The police are checking! Hurry, put on your belt!” During the commotion, the man sitting next to me slipped his hand in my bag and placed my wallet in his shopping bag. I didn’t feel a thing. But the boy who switched seats with him noticed something amiss. (Police could care less about seat belts.) The boy, still dressed in his school uniform, shouted, “Hey! You’re robbing her!” The man adroitly put my wallet back in my bag and vehemently denied the whole thing.

I was stunned at how well the clever operation went down, at least until I was rescued by my knight in shining trousers. According to my eternal optimist boyfriend, “Now you know how they rob without actually getting robbed.” Hooray. Lesson learned.

March 5, 2009

Seoul Searching

Now that I’ve finished reading Barack Obama’s Dreams from My Father, I wish I had read it earlier. Not earlier as in before the election. I mean earlier in my life, when I was first grappling with my identity, before it had even been published.

His story, as a biracial man, is obviously not mine. His is black and white. Mine’s more yellow and white. But the struggle to find peace from an internalized conflict of identity is universal. As I read, my mind reeled with understanding at passages like this:

It wasn’t a matter of conscious choice, necessarily, just a matter of gravitational pull, the way integration always worked, a one-way street. The minority assimilated into the dominant culture, not the other way around. Only white culture could be neutral and objective. Only white culture could be nonracial, willing to adopt the occasional exotic into its ranks.”

It was in this way, as a “neutralized” Korean American, that I came to Africa. Boarding the plane, passport in hand, I held tightly to my national identity rather than my ethnic one. But here, my face represents bad Jackie Chan movies, not the stars and stripes.

Several times today, like every day, men called after me with my equivalent of nails scratching a chalkboard: “Ching, chong, chang!” I always take a deep breath after hearing this. (The thoughts running through my head, however, aren’t suitable for this blog.)

I first dismissed the chants as innocent, even playful, mockery. But today, after the fourth man spat it out as he was entering the Apostles of Jesus Technical Institute, I realized that mockery, no matter how rooted in ignorance, is derisive. And this particular mockery puts me in a hole with only enough space for a Chinese pigeon.

I admire Barack Obama’s unrelenting pursuit to know himself and his place in the world. I’ve always felt a subtle resistance to diving into the murky waters of race identity, choosing instead to accept the position of the “exotic” in the ranks. But I now realize America is one of the few places where there’s a chance to be both your ethnicity and your nationality. Of course, there will be the occasional “ching, chong” chumps when I’m stateside. But, at the very least, they’ll be chirping it to a flock of pigeons who long outgrew that hole.

March 1, 2009

Starvation and Strife Menace Torn Kenya

By JEFFREY GETTLEMAN
Published in the New York Times
February 28, 2009

NAIROBI, Kenya — One year after this country exploded in ethnic bloodshed, trouble is brewing here again.

Ten million people face starvation, partly because farmers in crucial food-producing areas who fled their homes last year have not returned, instead withdrawing deeper into their ethnic enclaves, deeper into fear.

At the same time, public confidence in the Kenyan government is plummeting. Top politicians have been implicated in an endless string of scandals involving tourism, fuel, guns and corn.

On Wednesday, United Nations officials called for the country’s police chief and attorney general to resign after a United Nations investigation revealed that more than 500 people had been killed by police death squads. One of the Kenyan whistle-blowers himself was shot to death after providing detailed evidence.

“There’s a lot of anger,” said Maina Kiai, the former director of Kenya’s national human rights commission. “If we don’t start resolving these issues soon, things could be worse than before. There could be complete collapse.”

The grand coalition government that was formed last year between Kenya’s governing party and the opposition, after a deeply flawed election, is now widely dismissed as the “grand letdown.” It managed to stop the bloodletting between different ethnic groups that tore this country apart in 2008, killing more than 1,000 people, but has accomplished little else.

The only thing Kenya’s ruling class seems to agree on is refusing to pay most of its taxes, even though Kenyan politicians are already among the highest paid in the world, a stunning fact in one of the world’s poorest countries.

“Corruption is the glue holding this government together,” said John Githongo, the director of an anticorruption institute here.

Kenya’s legendary safari business, an engine of the economy, has not bounced back either. Tourist arrivals were down about 35 percent in 2008 compared with 2007, leading to thousands of layoffs and a steady stream of unemployed youths marching back to the already teeming slums.

President Obama, whose father was Kenyan, has become a savior to many people here, in part because Kenyans say their own leaders have been such a disappointment.

Ethnicity and the country’s lingering Balkanization are topics studiously avoided in Parliament. Few of Kenya’s politicians seem ready to tackle land reform, constitutional reform or the dangerous culture of impunity, all of which were called urgent priorities after the bloodshed last year. Many Kenyans are urging the International Criminal Court in The Hague to get involved, because they have no faith that the Kenyan justice system will prosecute the well-known political figures suspected of orchestrating last year’s killings.

“This country hasn’t healed,” Mr. Kiai said, “because we haven’t done anything to heal it.”



Many victims of last year’s violence feel totally abandoned. On a recent morning, Mary Macharia stood in a long line of sick people at a hospital near Nairobi, Kenya’s capital, her eyes on the floor.

A shiny, bubbly scar stretches from her ear to her lips. The right side of her face looks melted. A glance in the mirror jolts her mind back to the burning church where her daughter was killed a year ago, along with 30 others.

“Some days,” she said, “I hate myself.”

Across Kenya, near the western town of Kisumu, Millicent Awino is all alone, a young woman who used to have two children and a decent job packing flowers. She is essentially a serf now, her time, her sweat and her body at the beck and call of her ex-husband’s family, the only people who would take her in after she fled the violence that consumed her son and daughter and the ethnically mixed town where she used to live. She recently had another child, by the ex-husband who came into her hut one night, but the baby died of malaria.

“I think I’m done with children,” she said.

She also said she would never return to her former home.

Kenya, once a nation of so much promise, remains a land divided. The country pulled apart in 2008, when hundreds of thousands of people fled ethnically mixed areas for the safety of homogeneous zones. This was the result of a disputed election in which the president, Mwai Kibaki, was widely believed to have rigged the results to stay in power. Supporters of the top opposition leader, Raila Odinga, who hails from a different ethnic group, then vented their rage on Mr. Kibaki’s people.

On Jan. 1, 2008, Mrs. Macharia and four of her children ran from their farm near Eldoret, in the Rift Valley, to a nearby church to seek shelter.

The Macharias are Kikuyus, Mr. Kibaki’s ethnic group. A mob made up of men from other ethnic groups surrounded the church, barricaded the doors and set it on fire. Mrs. Macharia tried to escape but tripped on a burning mattress, falling on her right side. She had her 3-year-old daughter, Joyce, tied to her back and the little girl flipped into the flames.

Mrs. Macharia remembers her daughter screaming: “Mommy, don’t leave me here! I don’t want to die!”

But people inside the church panicked and Mrs. Macharia, 41, was trampled at the door.

She spent the next six months in the hospital, getting skin grafts and other painful operations. She wants plastic surgery, she said, “because I don’t like the way people look at me now.”

But for the first time in her life, she is broke. Her family used to have a nice farmhouse, sheep, chickens and cows. Now they live in a one-room apartment atop a sun-baked hill, surrounded by other Kikuyus, living off handouts.

“We used to have it all,” said Haron Macharia, Mary’s husband. “Now, we’re beggars.”

He said he could never go back to Eldoret because his neighbors had turned on him and they were like “snakes.”

The Macharias are worried about their 12-year-old son, James. He, too, was trapped in the church that day, though he survived.

“He won’t stop talking about killing,” Haron said. “He wants to burn everything.”

Over the summer, Kenyan children rioted in hundreds of schools, ransacking classrooms and burning down dorms. Ostensibly, the children were upset about exams. In truth, it may have been a collective outburst after all the violence they had witnessed.

Mrs. Awino’s two children, Wycliffe and Cynthia, were victims of revenge. Mrs. Awino, 24, is a Luo, a large and historically marginalized ethnic group, and while she was at work on Jan. 27, 2008, packing roses for $2 a day, a Kikuyu mob burned the house where her children were staying.

Her losses do not seem to end. After her 3-month-old baby died in early February, Mrs. Awino’s in-laws called her cursed and told her to leave.

“I would,” she said. “But I have nowhere else to go.”

February 26, 2009

Polio in Kenya

There have been great strides in global polio eradication, due in no small part to Rotary International.

But there’s still work to be done.

Kenya Toddler Is First Polio Infection in 20 Years
Published: February 25, 2009

NAIROBI, Kenya (AP) -- Kenya announced its first polio infection in 20 years on Wednesday, after a 4-year-old girl was diagnosed with the disease along the country's remote border with Sudan.

''In a country free of polio, when you make a diagnosis of one case of polio the definition is an outbreak,'' said Dr. David Okello, country representative of the World Health Organization. For every child paralyzed by polio, there are about 200 other asymptomatic cases who can spread the disease to others.

Okello said they were investigating a second case in Lokichoggio, 900 kilometers (560 miles) north of the capital city of Nairobi, where an infant had shown symptoms of the disease.

''Really we are not sure, there may be other cases,'' said Okello.

Polio is an infectious disease that mainly strikes children under five. It is spread primarily by the feces of an infected person getting into the food chain. It causes paralysis and can be fatal.

In 2006, two refugees escaping the war in Somalia were diagnosed with the disease at the Dadaab refugee camp at Kenya's eastern border with Somalia. That outbreak was contained before it spread.

Okello said the disease may have spread from south Sudan, where a polio outbreak occurred in early January.

He said many Kenyan children were not immunized due to postelection violence in 2008, which left more than 1,000 people dead and 600,000 people displaced from their homes. Many have still not returned home.

Okello said coverage of the immunization campaign was 100 percent before the violence but has dropped to 60 percent.

He said in the next 10 days health officials will conduct immediate vaccination of Lokichoggio and surrounding areas to prevent the spread of the disease and then a synchronized vaccination campaign involving Sudan, Ethiopia and Uganda.

Global efforts to eradicate polio have decreased cases by 99 percent since 1988. Last year, it was only endemic in four countries: Afghanistan, India, Nigeria and Pakistan. But those countries have the potential to re-infect anywhere in the world.

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If you'd like to help eradicate polio, click here.

February 22, 2009

Big five? Big deal.


I shot some video during our amazing safari through the Great Rift Valley.


We did five days, driving around in our pop-top van to Lake Nakuru, Lake Naivasha and the Masai Mara National Reserve. For two of those days, our sidekick Ben joined us.

You can also find more pictures from our travels in my Picasa web album.



Please excuse the soundtrack. I couldn't help myself. In fact, Ant and I couldn't resist belting Lion King songs the entire trip. (We tipped our guide accordingly.) But, trust me, you'd be humming it to yourself anyway. So, you're welcome.

East Africa’s Asian Invasion

No, this is not another story about how the Chinese are getting all the construction contracts here (which they are). This is a story about Antoinette Nguyen, friend extraordinaire, who came from Atlanta to visit me for 3 weeks. I was excited to “re-see” Kenya and Tanzania through her eyes.

She has her own blog if you care to read her perspective on the trip (when she eventually updates it). For now, here is what I “re-saw” during our very own East African Asian Invasion...

Helping out at the Emmanuel Boys Center makes you realize so much.
Ant realized her high school physics lessons stuck long enough to help David with his homework.
And I realized that my hair continues to be a spectacle for so many Africans.


If you don't smile like an idiot when you feed a giraffe, you’re not human.


Korean food is ridiculously delicious, no matter where you have it.

A safari isn’t complete without hundreds of pictures of us pointing at animals.


There is an inordinate amount of Obama across this land.

When in Zanzibar, it’s sometimes best to keep picture-taking to a minimum. We opted to enjoy paradise over documenting it… except for this time.