March 21st

DONATE HERE

Those of you watching the news will probably know that a degree of political stability has now returned to Kenya.

However, there are still thousands of internally displaced peoples (IDP's), many of whom do not have a home to go back to. The camps where these people live are extremely under-funded and under-resourced.

Therefore, with your help, we (a few of the GVN volunteers) are planning on providing a short term but necessary solution that will benefit some of these people in such terrible circumstances.

The plan is as follows:

- Up until the 5th of April, we harass you a lot into donating money to the GVN foundation.

- GVN passes 100% of your donations on to us.

- We get a truck and drive to an IDP camp where we will find out what items are needed the most.

- We purchase the necessary items and pass them on to the IDPs.

-GVN has made one trip to the Ndundori refugee camp before (see pictures attached). There are 1100 people at this camp outside Nakuru and the only aid they've received (other than from GVN) were medical supplies from Merlin. $11 (6 quid) buys 50Kg (110Lbs) of food!

-These people are at a critical moment right now. IDPs are returning to normal society, but at a very slow rate (which is unavoidable). The next few months are critical. If they can survive, they have a hope of eventually leading a normal life again. Unsustainable donations are often frowned upon, but in this situation it is what is necessary and most efficient.

-This is the most efficient donation you will ever make. As all the labor is by volunteers who will pay for their own transport, room and board, our only cost is that of a rental truck!

The GVN Foundation is an entirely non-profit organisation so 100% of your donations will go to helping these people out!

TO DONATE CLICK:

DONATE HERE

Thank you all so much!

March 21st (mini goodbye)

Hey everybody. I apologize for neglecting the comments and the blog in general. Thank you again for reading and commenting.

I've been very busy arranging the aid-trips to the IDP camp (see today's newer post). We are doing one trip this coming monday (I have $1500 on me now) and another at the end of April (which I'll leave in the hands of capable people that will still be here). Consider donating, because it would be the most effective donation you could possibly make.

Its possible the next time I'll post will be when I'm home ... got the IDP trip monday and tuesday and considering going to Uganda and Rwanda wednesday until the 31st, then fly back the first. I will post again when I'm home, but goodbye for now!

March 10th

I brought another volunteer, Jack, to switch to the Rehab school. The two of us now completely run the school. I moved around classes today in the schedule, assigned Jack to classes, and starting up a private tutoring time, so I could get the illits alone. The other adults are there, but never do anything. Like I noticed my last class with standard 8 was friday morning at 8:20. I next had them today at 11:40 today and my lesson was still on the board. rediculous. I had no class at 2 (kid's all had either CRE, science or social studies ... none of which I'm qualified to do) ... so I went to each classroom ... not a teacher to be found. ridiculous.

March 8th

Experienced two typical Nairobian firsts in the past two days: theft and traveler’s diarrhea. Actually it was the third time I was a victim of theft. The first was when the monkey stole the toast. The second was when a hawk took a chicken wing right off a plate I was holding in one hand [I’m so used to the surreal now I didn’t even think it was blog-worthy at the time; I was just pissed about my diminished dinner]. Yesterday I was pickpocketed. I’m not exactly sure when or how, but at least only my cheap phone was taken [my new number is +254 721 638 046].
Today I woke up feeling fine and went with some volunteers to see some acrobats [one of whom is our house manager’s cousin … more on him next time].
Around mid-performance I felt the rumblings. Plans for the rest of the day were aborted, but I was still a long way from home. It took about 2 hours to get back. Had it taken 2 hours and thirty seconds I would have owned my first pair of brown underwear … EWWWW. It took two months, but I eventually had to break out the bottles of Imodium and cipro. Spent the rest of the day watching Brad Pitt films [“I am not gay … I am not gay”].



So back to the cousin of the house manager, David. He’s been courting one of the volunteers here like crazy. Whenever I meet any African guy they ask the same two questions: “How do I go to America” and “How can I get a Muzungu [white] girlfriend.” It’s like shiksappeal but way stronger and way more upfront. It’s across the board and with no shame whatsoever.

Their method of courting, however, is well, odd. The volunteer, Carla, has had over 10 guys profess their love for her although only three were more than just random guys in the street [“I love you” is the pickup line of choice here]. One is David, the other works at her orphanage and I don’t know how she knows the third, but he has already proposed despite not having been on a date. The one at the orphanage has invited her to meet his parents. And then there’s David, who has sent the most hilarious text messages I have ever read. One read, “My love. You visited me in a dream last night and showed me around your hidden treasures. I woke up but still dreaming of you. Where did you take me?” The other texts are even more ridiculous. When I get access to them I’ll post them.

The appeal for the other gender [African girls to white guys] is noticeable, but not nearly as strong. I’ve only had one girl proclaim her love for me, to which I replied (solely for the irony of it), “What was your name again.” She actually got the joke and laughed, before reminding me of her name. My host brother asked me if I wanted him to get rid of her. I said “yes,” so she’s probably floating in the Nairobi River right now. Actually I did feel a little bad for having her escorted off, but I know she was either a grifter or a “hustler” so I don’t feel that bad.
We do get harassed by African men a lot, but in a non-sexual way. It’s really annoying because a dude or two will just walk with you for long stretches of time. It’s hard to get rid of them, because how do you stop someone from walking next to you?
The other day these two guys walked with me for 30 minutes. I couldn’t tell them to piss off, because I preferred them annoying to belligerent. And they just said they wanted to be friends and exchange numbers blah blah, but I know their idea of being friends is me buying them stuff. I have a lot of African friends now who I do buy meals and drinks for, but I know if I told them to pay for themselves they would. These two guys were just wankers, but they had no shame about bluntly declaring they were walking me into the house (and thus, by default, staying awhile). So when we got to the gate I had no choice but to say, “I’m not giving you my number, we’re not friends, you have to leave now.” If you’re anything less than direct, they’ll push their way into your life. Of course when I said this they played the race card as I walked off. Whatever.
It is annoying, but it doesn’t bother me after-the-fact, but a couple other volunteers have said it’s the one reason they wouldn’t want to come back. For me it’s way not enough of a reason [although I understand why its much more threatening for girls].

A couple of weeks ago this random guy started walking with me and the GVN rep, Sara, like 40 minutes from our destination. I livened things up a bit by telling him I was a helicopter pilot and manufacturer from Montana in Kenya looking to build propellers here. I kept it up for the 40 minutes while Sara fought off cover-blowing laughter. I was proud of myself until a few hours later when the guy found us at lunch and sat down with us uninvited with a list of emails and numbers of skilled workmen who he was sure could build helicopter propellers. Wasn’t so proud of myself anymore … DAMMIT.

Another volunteer and I have discussed the Muzungu Pass and Muzungu Tax system. Basically we can go wherever we want and do whatever we want on the pass, but get charged a little bit extra on the tax. The average white southerner is not 5% as racist against black people as African black people are against black people. It’s kind of sad.

Back to the African girls opinion of white guys. It’s kind of fun being the popular, sexy guy in the room when we go out here. Actually the muzungu’s whole existence here is sort of like celebrity status (with kids pointing and staring and everyone wanting to meet you). I haven’t had any relationships here whatsoever, although for once it wouldn’t be hard at all [the disease thing really scares me along with the disingenuous nature it would have to take … not that this is a philosophy post haha]. But when we went clubbing the other night I had no trouble finding dance partners, and mind you, I’m sporting a pair of legit mutton chops ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Beardindex.jpg ) at the moment; I look like a half-retarded West Virginian (is that redundant?) farmer. But a white half-retarded West Virginian farmer still rocks the muzungu pass haha.

March 6th

The kids at the orphanage wach got a teaspoon of sugar today as a mid-day treat. They just ate teh sugar straight. ok.

March 5th

Thanks for the replies. No new post today, although I did leave a lot of rambling thoughts in a reply comment on February 25th.

I'll see what I can do with the blog in future posts. I'll try to write something. Maybe even fabricate a story or two haha.

March 2nd

I'm back in Nairobi which is good news and bad news for the blog. Good news is I'll have internet much more frequently. Bad news is there will probably not be many more exciting stories as my placement in Nairobi is sort of cushy (back in the Volunteer house and working at the boys rehab school).

I know from experience with reading blogs, that if they aren't updated regularly I'd just stop checking them at all. So it's time for a poll. First of all, I'd be interested to know who's still reading at this point and what you'd like to read about (if anything).

So I could just shut down the blog and if anything interesting happens I'll just send out an email. Or I could just keep on posting with mundane things, such as what Im' teaching, how the soccer training is going. Or I could talk about the soccer as if it's a formulaic feel-good sports movie script. Or I could continue with philosophy. Or a mix of those things.

So who's still reading? And what do you want to read (if anything)? responses by post or email are fine.

Thanks,

Rafe

P.S. this guy just sat down next to me at the internet cafe ... he smells so bad.

March 1st

Had my first real shower in three weeks. It was powerful but very cold. I've never been more ecstatic about a cold shower in my life.

February 25th

So I was suppose to go to church yesterday, I’m reading the bible for fun, I’m teaching at a school that mandates CRE (Christian religious education) as a daily class, and I’ve become accepting of faith-based beliefs. Obviously I’ve come around on this religion thing. Well, not exactly.

The last time I discussed religion I talked about belief and how I should be accepting of faith-based beliefs. Now I want to discuss knowledge and how it differs from belief.
What is belief? “Belief in X” means “sincerely thinking that X is true.” So as discussed before, belief is not a matter of choice nor desire or hope. This belief could stem from rationality or faith. I concluded last time that it is ok to believe something without rational justification for the belief. But this does not mean its ok to act as though your belief is knowledge. Belief doesn’t require rational justification, but knowledge does. To understand this let us consider the concept, “knowledge.”

What do we mean when we say, “He knows the capital of France is Paris?” First of all, this implies that Paris is the capital of France. We would never say, “He knows the capital of France is Lyons.” He might believe it, but he can’t know that. So knowledge requires truth.
But truth is independent of the knower. I don’t know what the capital of Liberia is, but it does have a true capital. Belief links the human to the truth. “He knows that Paris is the capital of France” implies both that “Paris is the capital of France” and “He believes that the capital of France is Paris.” Knowledge requires truth and belief.
If truth and belief were all knowledge required we’d still be at an impasse with Christianity (and all religions). Belief doesn’t necessitate rationality and whether their beliefs are true is beyond either of our abilities, so how can I say if what they claim as knowledge is or isn’t knowledge?
Fortunately, knowledge also requires justification. This is far less obvious than the truth and belief requirements, so let’s examine an example:

Adam’s alarm goes off every morning at 7:45. Adam then showers, brushes his teeth, pees, gets dressed and has a cup of coffee before leaving his house. Across from his house in the distance is the town’s big clock-tower. As Adam pulls out of his driveway he looks up at the clock and every day it reads 8:32 and every day Adam laughs at his own OCD. He knows it’s dumb, but he secretly loves how perfectly routinized his mornings are. Adam gets home after dark everyday and enjoys less routinized nights.
One night Adam is arrested. He is told that a hit-and-run homicide occurred on his street that morning. The police know he takes that route every morning, so he’s held as a main suspect.
When his case comes to trial, evidence comes to light that the homicide occurred at 8:25am. Adam gets up as a witness in his own defense and says, “I could not have done it. I know I left home at 8:32 that morning; I always leave my house at 8:32. I know because I always laugh when I pull out and the town’s clock reads 8:32.”
As he finishes his statement the whole courtroom bursts out in laughter. Judge Ping leans over and says, “Adam, that clock has been stuck on 8:32 for over a year.”
Fortunately for Adam, his next-door neighbor Eve testifies next. Eve says she knows Adam left at 8:32 that day because she was cutting the grass when her alarm went off just as Adam was leaving. Her alarm is set for 8:32 because her favorite program starts at 8:35 and she wants 3 minutes warning.
It is found that Eve’s watch is set to the correct time and that she wasn’t lying, so all charges are dropped against Adam. Yay! The End.

Let’s rewind the clock (haha) to the moment when Adam testified, “I know I left at 8:32 that morning.” Now if knowledge only required truth and belief then Adam did indeed know he left at 8:32: he believed he left at 8:32; and he did leave at 8:32. So how do we define the concept of knowledge? What do you think?
I would not say that Adam knew he left at 8:32 because the link between his belief and the truth (the clock-tower) was fallible. Knowledge requires justification (the link between belief and truth).
Likewise I would not say a Christian knows the Bible is the word of God (even if it is) if his belief is faith-based. Consider if Adam testified, “I know I left at 8:32 because I have faith that I did.” Is this a proper use of the concept of knowledge? I would say it is not, even though his belief is sincere and true. Knowledge requires rational justification.
To reiterate, belief alone does not require justification, but the type of belief that is to be claimed as knowledge does. So it’s totally cool for a person to say he believes that the Bible is the word of God, but it is not cool for a person to say he knows the Bible is the word of God … even if it is!

The next obvious question is how much justification should be required for a belief in a truth to be knowledge? I think this could probably be argued about forever, but it does seem clear that it is more than zero and that faith is strictly a cause of belief and not a form of justification of knowledge (the proof of this is left as an exercise for the reader :).

To recap, so far we have discovered that: belief is not a matter of choice; and that knowledge requires some rational justification. The combination of these two could deal a fatal blow to the continuation of religion in the rational community.

To be continued …

February 24th (2)

Had traditional Maasai Soup today. I decided to try it before asking
what it was. "For desert: Monkey Brains!" Just kidding; it was goat
brains.

Here's the recipe for you at home: immediately after slaughtering the
goat, chop off its head, cleave it in half and place it in a pot with
boiling water. Add salt and coriander and let it cook until the
water, blood and brain juice mixture comes to a boil again. Then
filter out the skull and brain chunks and enjoy the liquid remains.
Of all the strange things I've eaten in the past year only this
tasted as bad as it sounds. I had two sips and felt like vomiting …
and that was before asking what it was.
You should never disrespect your host, but I felt being honest was
less disrespectful than regurgitating cranial fluids all over the
dining room.

On this continent I've also had:

Ostrich (Amazingly delicious)
Goat Stomach (edible)
Crocodile (Texture of chicken, taste of sardines … not a good combination).

February 24th

I was planning on going to church today, but nobody in my host family went, so I went for a hike by myself instead. I traveled a few miles to the southwest to climb this peculiar range of hills in the middle of the rift valley.
Now I made it to the top of Kilimanjaro, but I only made it to within 50 meters of the top of this hill. I was stopped by the fear of death.

I was walking back the other day from Ngong and passed 15-20 wild giraffe, just chillin. So cool. I asked my host brother if this meant that there were other wild animals around like lions or cheetah. He said no. I beg to differ.

50 meters from the top of the hill today I stepped down off a stone and around a bush and whoosh … a dicdic or small gazelle sidestepped me at full speed followed instantaneously by a f***ing huge adult cheetah, hot in pursuit. I fell back in the bush and before I could think the two were gone down the hillside. I am not making this up; a wild cheetah came with in two feet of me and only avoided a head-to-hip collision through its cat-like agility. Oh my god.
I stayed in that spot maybe ten minutes paralyzed by the pounding of my chest. I then hightailed down (in a different direction than the two animals went) with a baseball sized rock in one hand and my swiss army knife in the other, jumping at the sound of every rustling bush. Oh my god, I promise thee oh lord I will go to church next week.

February 23

Took the Matatu in again. I had a much safer position this time and again had an African seatbelt. At one point I felt someone pulling at my leg hair. I figured it was the kid in my lap (the kids here are fascinated by leg and arm hair). But no, it was a 40 year old woman. I don't know if she was amused, confused or just checking to see if it was real. She kept at it for like 15 minutes. [Shrug]

February 21st

The country had quarterly exams today. Before I graded the 8th grade math exam I did the exam because you never know if the answer book provided by the state can be trusted. The test was significantly harder than any of the homeworks the kids have been doing. They had 2 hours to complete the 50-question multiple-choice exam. I finished in about an hour; not a good sign for them. I got one question wrong, but still outperformed the state's answer key 49 to 48 haha [Rafe: 0 .... Kenya: -1].

The median and mean for the students were both 18 out of 50. The highest was a 31 and 7 of the 33 kids scored lower than the expected score from random guessing.

So obviously I'm thinking that this is terrible, but the other teachers weren't so worried. Turns out missing 2 questions out of 50 on their own 8th grade math exam administered nationwide was not the dumbest part of it all on the Ministry of Education's behalf. The test was so hard for the kids because the state tests on the entire curriculum on the first quarter, midterm, third quarter and final exams. So they are only expected to know 1/4 of the material now.

I guess the good part is the kids see improvement, but it makes grading these exams completely frivolous. Their luck in guessing on the 3/4 of the test they aren't suppose to know yet almost completely masks their ability on the 1/4 of the test they should know. One kid answered "C" on about 30 of the 50 questions. Some of these were true attempts, but its hard to know which. He got 14 of the Cs correct (well within the likely range of randomness) ... he got 5 of the other 20 correct indicating when he made an honest attempt, he had no clue. But he got 19 questions correct putting him in the top 50% of the class and above others who likely knew the 1/4 of the material well and guessed poorly on the other questions (e.g. all Ds). So ridiculous haha.

Febraury 17

Yesterday’s Matatu experience still ranks #1 on my all time surreal and unsafe experience lists, but after today each list has a close second place (although from separate events).

I missed the Matatu back to Maasailand yesterday (although it wasn’t really my fault). So I wound up going out with my host brother and his cousin and friends. My host brother, Alfred, is 19 and as nice as can be, but his friends are a little shady, his cousin included. Alfred kept reminding me to keep my wallet safe. “My friends are nice, but they’re hustlers y’know,” he would say. I only had two beers, so as to keep my wits, but I played the role of rich whitey well buying them several pitchers ($2 a piece). I also paid some of their cover charges at the bar/club we went to to watch the Man U – Arsenal FA cup showdown (what happened there, Dustin?).

So we all got along well … perhaps too well. Around 1am, I hit a wall and discovered they were planning on all-nighting. In my youth, I might have been able to do it, but no longer. I’m also sensitive about weakening my system with all the diseases supposedly around. The club was in the basement of a hotel, so I asked about rooms … $13 for a sweet with two bedrooms and a living room. I took one bedroom, and Alfred the other. I locked my door, but left the door to the sweet open in case his friends wanted to crash on the floor there later.
Around 5am I hear a knock on my door. “Raf … RAF … open up.” It was the cousin Emmanuel.
I groggily open up to see he’s with a woman. “No way am I being sexiled now,” I’m thinking, but I respond “what do you want?”
“She’s for you.” He says as he turns to her and says, “go in there with the Mazungu [white person].”
I kid you not, he actually brought a girl for me. Now Emmanuel’s not a pimp, and she wasn’t a prostitute. I think it was just a thank-you gift for treating him well all night.
What is proper etiquette in this situation? On one hand I want to say, “What the hell are you thinking?” But he just thought he was doing me a favor (and she was either doing him a favor, or just wanted to sleep with a white man … which is not uncommon here I hear). So I just told them I was tired and going back to bed. They got the message.
As I shut and locked the door and laid back to bed I stayed awake for another 10 minutes simple shaking my head and giggling. So Surreal.



The #2 on my unsafe list was how me and Alfred got home. There are no matatus on Sunday to Maasailand. I wanted to walk the few hours (what else is there to do Sunday morning), but we ended up taking a dirt-bike taxi … one of them. Even though it probably was more safe than the Matatu, I was far more afraid. Three people on one bike with no helmets cruising along a bumpy African road. My eyes were tearing from the wind in my face, but I could have easily been crying out of fear haha.

[I have no choice whether to do the Matatu again or not, but I’m never doing the dirt-bike taxi again. And neither should you kids reading at home!]

February 16th

Wow. A surreal experience to top them all.

The matatus are what Kenya has instead of buses. They are 15-person vans that can fit 24 people if organized correctly (aka, seeming completely disorganized).
It’s straight out of a cartoon. Two guys work it, the driver and the money collector, who is often not inside the matatu but rather standing with his toes on the edge of the open side door. The passengers fortunate enough to be last-in also stand, but inside the van and sort of leaning across people’s laps. To indicate it is ok to go, the money-guy will bang a coin on the roof of the van, so the driver can hear it over the blarring hip-hop or Christian reggae music. The matatu will then whiz off down the road. It’s hilariously fantastic.

But today I had a matatu experience to top all others. The matatu from Maasailand to Ngong only runs in at 7:45 each morning. There are 3 on Saturdays because the whole town goes in for market. It was a real smalltown experience getting on and seeing 5 of the other 8 teachers at the school also on the same matatu.
But this matatu was not like the others. It was a mid-sized 1990 Toyota Pick-up truck. There were two benches along the bed of the pick-up. Not the safest mode of transport in the world, but ok. When my host family and I got on, we made 13. 5 squeezed tightly along each bench and three standing at the front of the bed. By the time the other passengers implored the driver to stop picking people up and make a second trip, we were 26 in the bed of the truck!! I still don’t understand how this was possible, but I counted several times.
Last night, my host mother was condemning skydiving as too dangerous. This morning she had no qualms with me sitting on the rail of a pickup traveling up to 65kph (40mph) down an unpaved African road (which is slightly smoother than a paved African road). Yes, my spot was the front right rail of the pickup bed. This meant my right knee was directly behind the driver’s head (they drive British-style here) and my right hand was inside the driver’s window holding onto the roof above his head. The rail I was sitting on was where my gluts meet my hamstrings, which meant two things: If I were to drop a #2 the car would not be soiled (aka my entire body excluding my legs was above ground); and because of the positioning of the rail, no blood was able to get to my legs the entire 40-minute trip, so I literally could not stand when we got to Ngong. Everyone found it hysterical as I held onto the truck for a couple minutes enduring crazy pins and needles.
I really wish I had a picture of this; it was far and away the most danger my life has ever been in. The only thing keeping my inside the truck was the strength of my two hands and a kid sitting in my lap [I’m coining the term “African seatbelt” to mean when somebody is sitting in your lap … a common occurrence].
I touched the side-view mirror at one point just to prove I could amidst laughable disbelief. But I am alive .. at least until next time.

February 14th-16th

Happy Valentine's Day!!!!

New posts are up starting at February 7th.

I'll only have internet on Saturdays until March. I hope everyone's well,

-Rafe

February 13th

How does the saying go? “Sometimes you dig for stones and find gold?”

I came home from work today and turned on my phone to find I had received three text messages from my host sister, Jean, all exactly the same, sent 5 minutes apart from one another. I asked her about it and she claimed it must have been a glitch in Safaricom’s service.

An hour later I texted another volunteer, Carla, to forward to Jean the text, “This is Safaricom. There is a glitch in your SIM card, please replace it to avoid further problems.” An inane enough act that morphed into unmatched entertainment for the rest of the night.
Carla wrote back to tell me that Jean responded to the text with, “Go to Hell.” Obviously I’m thinking Jean knows it was me (why wouldn’t she, we were just talking about Safaricom glitches) and chose to respond via text even though we were sitting across from each other in the living room (along with the rest of the family).
Then Jean got a call and answered it, “This is Harriet [lie].” And proceeded to tell the person on the other line, “Yes, I live in Nairobi [lie] and spend many weekends in Nakuru [lie] … yes … I’ll be up in Nakuru next weekend [lie] … ok … bye.” As she hung up her siblings burst out laughing. I texted Carla to reply to Jean’s last text, “Only liars go to hell, Harriet.”
When Jean received it, she flipped out. Turns out she never knew I was behind it and still didn’t. The guy she was on the line with was DJ Sniper, a potential love interest who she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see, so she gave a false name so she’d be harder to track down. Now she was afraid that Carla’s number belonged to a friend of the DJ who was onto her game.
Jean then called Carla’s number to get to the bottom of the situation. When Carla answered in an obviously feminine voice Jean screamed, hung up, and went into full panic mode. She got into a frantic Swahili exchange with her sister, while her brother (who knew I was behind it all), amidst uncontrollable laughter translated, “She thinks it’s his wife!”
Now normally I don’t enjoy causing people to suffer [lie], but when the target is a potential home-wrecking liar … well, let’s just say I almost suffocated on my own laughter.

The whole charade of panic and laughter continued for a couple hours until Jean used my phone to call Carla’s number. I had wisely deleted Carla’s entry in my phone and warned her she may be called to prepare for this scenario. But Carla let down her guard and asked to speak to “Raf” and the gig was up.
Jean vowed never to talk to me again. Well worth it.

February 12th

Was speaking to other volunteers the other day about what we miss most from home (other than friends and family of course ;)). They both pined for food from home, but I haven’t had a craving for anything. The food here is fantastic. All the other Mzungus (whiteys) complain it’s too bland, which is probably why I love it. It’s all very simple: rice, pasta, chapatti (like a crepe) or ugali (thick, white square of dough) accompanying cabbage and some sort of stew of vegetables, lentils and occasionally meat. And Fruit! Oh man, I love the fruit here. Everyday in Nairobi I’d have at least 3 bananas, a mango and usually a pineapple as well, because there was a stand on my way to work. And it’s so cheap. I made a fruit salad for 6 people the other night for 95 shilling ($1.25).
I did have a boiled fermented wheat drink today that was a little strange, but everything else has been great. I drink Chai 3 or 4 times a day (half hot-water, half hot milk, some sort of tea and a lot of sugar); it’s quite good.
I guess I have craved big salads at times …. I miss Frist haha.

So the food is great, but I’d pay a lot for a 20-minute hot shower. At the volunteer house in Nairobi it was either a luke-warm trickle, or a powerful cold. A great day was a powerful luke-warm shower. Here in Maasialand, there are no showers, so at least I don’t have to suffer through a cold one haha.

February 11th

Arrived in Maasailand today. I’m just behind Ngong Hills in the Rift Valley (if you want to goolge-earth it haha). It’s an extremely picturesque spot. My host family is great and speaks perfect English. It’s a single-mother home with 2 daughters, 2 nieces, a son and a house-help. The house is modern (so no traditional Maasai mud/dung hut). It’s right off the only road in the area, but the school is a ten-minute walk from the road through the acacia trees. There are 300 students at the school, but there are no houses anywhere around it. There’s no real village. It’s just a school, a church and an infirmary in the middle of the woods haha. The school is the only one in this area of the Rift Valley, so the kids walk to school from up to 15Km (9 miles) away.

The house I’m at is an interesting mix of Maasai and Western culture. The decorations range from traditional Sausage Tree canteens to a picture frame that reads, “Wall Street, NYC.” The family is very Christian, so I have to pray with them before dinner, yet one of their posters reads, “Our prayers should be for blessings in general, for only Allah knows what is best for us.” I asked my host mom if Allah just meant a generic god in Swahili (Swahili is influenced by Arabic a lot). She said no, so I asked about the poster. Apparently she had never read it. She laughed and proceeded to take it down. I’m causing trouble already.
The oddities don’t stop there. There’s no electricity in the Rift Valley, so the house has no lights. It does, however, have a TV which is powered by two solar batteries. So we ate dinner via a mix of lantern and TV light.
The windows of the house are just left open, so there are a ton of flies. I’ll either get used to being covered by house flies, or I’ll be eaten whole by March. There’s also no running water, so I’m going to stink in three weeks, not that I don’t already. There are two pit-latrines outside for bathrooms.

I contracted a nasty cold-sore from the refugee camp. It takes up half of my lower lip, so I did a lot of drooling during my first meal with my new family haha. There’s no Byroleum in this country . But I’d rather have a drool-inducing cold-sore than traveler’s diarrhea, malaria or the 17-second-fire-stomach (you don’t want to know), so I’m still happy with my body’s adjustment to the third world (knock on wood).

February 10th

Dammit,

I'm off to Maasailand tomorrow morning and just got to the i-cafe 15 minutes before closing (damn sunday hours). Bummer as I have a ton of stuff to post.

It's possible I'll have internet access in the next 3 weeks, as everything's a little more modern than my program description let on. But I may not, who knows. My number is +254 711 999 227 if you should want to call. If you have the ability to call, I'd love to hear from you. We're 8 hours ahead of NY time. I'll be back to posting regardless in March.

Ta,

-Rafe

February 8th

Very early start to get our shopping on … which took forever. We filled the rental truck with 30 mattresses and blankets (for elderly and expecting mothers), kettles for boiling water and cooking, and more food than I’ve ever seen in my life. 50Kg (110lbs) of beans or maize cost roughly $11, so we bought about 22,000lbs of food. So the money does go a long way even though it’s not “sustainable.”

The unloading went smoothly. I spent that time climbing trees around the camp to get epic shots to send to donors. Once everything was out of the truck, we turned it over to the unofficial leaders of the camp. When the people lined up for rations, there was some squabbling, so we took all the little kids to a different part of the grounds and did the hokey-pokey with them 50 times.
We left at 4pm to get through Naivasha before dusk (the Kenyan members of our group were Kikuyu … the persecuted tribe).


Overall the experience wasn’t too traumatizing, mostly because I think I was preparing for the worst. I only saw one dead person on the trip, a victim of vehicular carelessness, rather than racial violence. The only roadblocks we hit were run by the military and not angry mobs.
The most disturbing thing about the experience was the victims’ immediate change in wealth, rather than the absolute level of penury. The elections were little over a month ago at which point these people owned houses, went to school, and worked jobs. Now they clung to a bag of rags or a single lemon as their only possession.
As the violence is subsiding a bit, many have the option to leave the camp without fear of homicide. But to go where? There are no jobs in the region and no land or homes available to people without money. Even if they held bank accounts, the ATMs in the region are bone-dry. In the camp they get medical supplies and food every so often, even if it means living with 1100 people on a couple acres.
But more that anything, I think the difference is here they get respect. They get respect from each other as members of a community and they get respect from outsiders as people who had something and tragically now have nothing. If they leave the camp, they’ll be street-bums and will get the respect street-bums get. I think this, more that the violence, is why many people remain here to live, even amongst extreme discomfort and death.

February 7th

In Nakuru (the violence-ridden area). Six of us (three from GVN, three from the partner organization) spent the day at a refugee camp. There were 1100 people who had been there for 2 weeks (since the first member of parliament was killed). Our organization raised $3,500 in the past week for us to work with. All we did today was assess the situation. It was amazing how orderly everybody was. It took maybe 4 minutes for the 400 refugees there (the other 700 were out during the day, but return at night) to sit and be completely silent for individuals to speak about the camp’s needs. Merlin had been the only organization to visit this camp. Merlin deals almost exclusively with medical supplies, so the refugees were well taken care of in that regard, but the adults hadn’t eaten in four days and there were only two pit latrines for 1100 people.
Even before food, sanitation is the most important thing. Without sanitation, disease will spread and the medical supplies will no longer be sufficient. The local government agreed to build 4 more latrines tomorrow. A fact which was relayed to the Kenyans in our group, but was not relayed to us from GVN (who controlled the fate of the money). So when we spent all the time in the late afternoon figuring out what we needed to buy to build latrines our Kenyan partners were getting noticeably angry and kept telling us that we need the money for food while we insisted on taking care of sanitation first. So tensions got high in our group. Turns out that “we need this money for food” meant “we pre-ordered the food and we’re committed to buying it” and “food’s more important than sanitation” means “food’s more important because the local government is taking care of sanitation … not that you could know that, because we didn’t tell you that.” It’s really frustration how stuff gets lost in translation even with people who speak perfect English.

Fortunately I got to speak on the phone with the local official right before we purchased everything, so only time (and not money) was wasted. But the woman in charge of the partner organization was visibly angry that we wasted the whole afternoon and only bought a few tarps for shelter. When I apologized for wasting time (not that it was in any way our fault), she was completely silent. I caught eyes with the GVN rep in charge and we exchanged half-bemused/half-petrified furrowed eyebrows, while the silence persisted. Hopefully it was just a cultural thing (I doubt it).

Everything seemed to smooth over by dinner, which was a fun, laughter-filled meal for all.

February 6 (2)

Hardly get any international news here and internet's real slow. I saw a little bit about "super tuesday" but have no idea what it means. Does anyone have a guess at the odds now that Obama will win? Is there a line from Vegas?

Thanks

February 6

Had my first two days of class. So when I said there were four other teachers, I guess I meant that there's suppose to be four other teachers. In actuality most of the time the kids sit in their class by themselves doing nothing, because the teachers just don't show up. The classes I had were all ok. I was suppose to be doing division of fractions with the 8th graders, which requires knowing mulitplication of fractions, reducing fractions, multiplication of whole numbers etc. Some knew this stuff, others didn't, but we hammered it out none-the-less.

The bells (by which I mean the one cow-bell that's rung by one of the 8th grades) were confusing me today. I thought I was showing up for math 25 minutes early to put stuff on the board, but the kids were already there ... and wanting to leave 25 minutes before the class ended (because the kid rang the bell). I then realised that the entire school (including the other teacher) go completely off of the one clock in the 8th grade classroom, which is not even on the wall, but passed around as kids want to see it. The wheel in the back must have been hit thus sending the whole school 25 minutes into the future. How quaint.

February 4

First day of work. I'm teaching at a boys rehabilitation center. There are 63 kids there (some orphans, others not), because they were caught commiting non-violent crimes. They are there until they graduate 8th grade. Although the kids are grades 5-8, they range in age from 10-17. Upon graduation they are sent to boarding high schools. If they don't graduate by 18 they are released.
I'm only working there for this week and then all of March (with the Maasai Teaching program in between). I'm teaching 8th grade math, 7th grade English and 5th-8th grade Phys Ed. There are 4 teachers for 4 grades and 8 periods each day, so I make 5 providing some relief for the others. There are actual texts for math and english, which is great. For P.E. the good news is there are two full-sized soccer fields (altho not in great shape) with goals and without any glass or garbage on them. The bad news is the extent of the equipment is one deflated ball and some donated uniforms. I plan on doing soccer exclusively in PE, but I could really use some balls and cones. I'm going to purchase them regardless, but if you'd like to pledge a ball ($12) or cone ($1.50) to cut down on my personal expesnses, that's be great!

First day was a little rough, because the principle thought it would be a good idea to give me all 63 kids for two 2-hour sessions for me to get to know them. I think he was just getting the teachers a break. This was bad because the only way for me to prevent complete chaos was to be very strict, so I don't think I made a great impression. Not to mention this obviously didn't help me get to know them at all.
Refereed a game to end the day. They are very good dribblers and good with 2-person teamwork, but there's no semblence of a gameplan nor of shooting/trapping/lefty skills. Got a lot of work to do if they're going to base a cookie-cutter cheesy sports movie on my stay with them (not to mention we need a team of bad guys who have won the national cup 8 years in arrow. Maybe the rehab center accross the street for kids who committed violent crimes would fit the bill).

February 2nd

Went to the Nairobian Safari Walk (zoo) today with other volunteers. We were the ONLY people there, so the staff let us enter the cheetah pen and pet a domesticated grown cheetah. So surreal.

February 1st (2)

Why Post Introspection?

The true reason I started posting this stuff is that I wrote it in my journal alongside the hiking entries I was planning on posting. When I chose to post it all, my thinking was “what the hell; let’s see what happens.”
But in retrospect, I’m happy I’m going in this direction. Most importantly, without posting everything it’s too easy to convince myself of BS. It’ll hopefully hone my thinking knowing it’s all going to be subject to criticism.
Secondly, I think I can come across as an enigma at times even to some of my closest friends. Although I perversely enjoy this sometimes, enigmas irk me. Like everyone else, I like figuring out how other people think, why they act the way they do and what drives them. But there are a couple of people I know well for whom I’ve completely given up trying to understand how they make decisions and how they came to be the way they are. Man would I love to read about their introspections and thought process. So I hope this detailed introspection is actually interesting to read (otherwise I shouldn’t bother posting it).
A couple of friends once expressed the opinion that I forewent Finance because I’m some sort of idealist. This is far from the truth. So maybe these essays will help people figure out how I see myself.
If this stuff isn’t interesting, or could be more interesting, let me know. Feedback about the blog as a whole is most beneficial at his juncture haha.

If you’re interested in past thought-experiments I’ve taken (such as why forego finance, why act ethically, or epistemology’s relation to climate change) let me know.

February 1st

Why be Introspective?

In reading the replies to my earlier posts I think I need to discuss why I believe this sort of philosophical introspection to be worthwhile.
First of all, I enjoy it. I love discussing philosophy and thought it would be interesting to keep it all directed inward for this trip.
Secondly, I think it is useful. I disagree completely with the “the harder you look, the less you find” theory.” I used to go by the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” mentality, but that’s equally harmful. I only have one life (sorry, Buddhists); shouldn’t optimality be the goal?
Here’s how I believe introspection and perspective (which I define here as “an understanding of one’s self and how it interacts with the world”) to be useful. In economics we studied a typical person’s utility as a function of leisure and consumption. (Overly simplified,) the basic idea is the more money and free time you have the better your quality of life … everyone’s curve is slightly different. This is far too crude a model, but imagine something that models everything that you experience (quality of friends, health, hotness of wife etc.) The key thing to note is that before anything leads to happiness it must first be experienced. You don’t become happier when the 6 ping-pong balls corresponding to the numbers on your lotto ticket pop-up; you become happier only when you discover that they did. And you’ll be even happier when you’re driving your new Bugatti around. In a theoretical sense humans are machines. Experiences (life) are the input; utility is the output. But sometimes we run like Bugattis, other times we run like Nairobian taxis. I view perspective as the oil. You could treat perspective just like money and graph Utility vs. Perspective. But because perspective deals with the mechanism itself, I treat perspective like a shift in the curve of Utility vs. everything else. How ever much utility your machine pumps out from a life with a $200,000/year income, with a little extra perspective it’ll pump out the equivalent of a $250,000/year income (all else being equal).
Look, my life is amazing; I love it. I’m not some 21st century Catcher in the Rye toiling through my disillusioned early 20s in Africa trying to find meaning for my existence. I do these thought-experiments because they excite me and I learn from them. This tool about treating humans as utility-pumping machines as an aid for understanding perspective is an old discovery for me. I’ve posted it now to help those who haven’t been subjected to my utilitarian rants catch up with how and why I think. But everything else in the blog so far (and hopefully from now on) is all fresh stuff for me (which is why I’m very thankful for any and all comments and criticisms posted).
As an example for how these thought-experiments help consider the one about faith and rationality. I used to rail against faith-based beliefs. “How can someone believe something even if they have no reasons for why it is true? It’s fine if their reasons are false and they just don’t see it; that’s why debate is progress. But how can someone just remove himself from debate because he doesn’t care whether reason justifies his position? The problem is faith doesn’t care about self-affirmation. ‘Abortion is immoral because the Pope knows God says it is, and the Pope knows what God thinks, because the Pope knows what God thinks … duh’” I once would have ranted. But as of 17 days ago, I discovered that I too hold very tightly to a self-affirming belief (induction and deduction are the only valid means of justification). So how would I answer my hypothetical Catholic now? He has faith the Pope knows what God deems ethical and I have faith that rationality deems what’s ethical. An impasse [at least in terms of philosophy; in practical terms the law mandates the separation of church and state, so he has to venture into the realm of rationality if he wants to stop me from getting an abortion. FYI: I’m preggerz and I’m keeping it).
In any case, the result of that mental jaunt has made me more aware of my own beliefs, forcing me to be more accepting of others’. Not to mention how ridiculously fun it was ;).

Jan 31st (2)

P.S.

just read this on nytimes.com and thought it a good example of how the international media isn't trustworthy either:

"... and the violence has steadily moved, town by town, death by death, across the country."

Jan 31st

Thought you all might be interested in an update on Kenya ... I'll
keep it brief (and hopefully unique from what you could already know
from online international media sources).

Things have gotten a lot worse just in the past couple days,
especially after the shooting of the MP. I went to Kibera (the second largest slum in the world with between 900,000 and 1.4M people) just a few
hours ago. The news of the second murdered MP was just coming across
the news as we were en route (although we didn't learn until just now
that it doesn't seem to have been politically motivated). The main
road to Kibera has been barricaded, so we had to park in the back part
of the fairgrounds (where the refugees are) and meet Peter (the main tour guide of Kibera and friend of the volunteer program I'm with) there to be
walked into Kibera through a back gate. As we got to the clinic
(which is in front of Kibera and where the tour I took with Peter last week began) Peter was informed by a buddy
that a mob was forming down the road a bit, so we left. The clinic's
windows were all broken from rioting. Because the road is barricaded,
ambulances can't get to the clinic. They had a lot of patients two
days ago after the police opened fire on the mob, but they couldn't
get any of the gun-shot victims to hospital for necessary
x-rays/treatment. The kids are not going to school right now, because
the parents are afraid to let them leave their shanties. The
volunteers are mostly still working, although it's a day-to-day
decision. Peter was understandably not in a good mood . He said
things were almost completely back to normal before the MP was shot
and now he fears there might not be an end insight. He also expressed
disgust for a lot of people who left who did not live in areas of
Kibera that were in danger complicating matters at the fairgrounds.

The big problem they are having in the fairgrounds right now is with
HIV patients. A lot of people are dying because they cannot get
treatment without their HIV I.D. cards, but most people's cards were
left behind when they fled. Other than that, there's enough food and
medical supplies because the government has been forcing people out.
There were 18,000 people in the fairgrounds 2 weeks ago; now there are
850. I got to talk to a volunteer teacher there (so this is all
information from only one source). He said that the overcrowding
there was making the government look bad, so that's why people were
dispersed. The government offered to pay rent for people to leave,
but there was no guarantee for how long they'd cover rent, so a lot of
people refused to leave. The deal was also for 4 males per rented
apartment, so in many cases it would have been 4 Kenyan-sized families
in each apartment. Most of the 17,000 people who left did not take
the government deal, but convoyed to other districts of the country or
found family etc. Some are tenting in the brush just outside the
fairgrounds. Some got work as guards (given the increase in demand
for that occupation in this country right now). He said the
fairgrounds still have 60 orphans, but he's hopeful they'll be placed
in an orphanage in Ngong once they finish the new building there.
I'm not sure what tribe this guy belongs to, but he said, "Raila knew
he won. All Kenyans knew he won." But when I asked him if he thought
there was rigging on both sides he said there definitely was. I asked
him what he thinks should be done from here and he expressed desire
for reelections with a 3-month intermediate government run by the
speaker of parliament. Either that or martial law. He claimed
that's what everyone in the fairgrounds wants, but he also admitted
that the people there receive almost no news. He said every tribe is
represented in the fairgrounds and everyone there is for peace.

I'm heading to Nakuru next week to help Irene (the director of the organisation GVN partners with here) at a refugee camp up
there, so I'll let you know how things up there are if I learn
anything.

As an interesting note, Irene is Kikuyu (the target tribe and tribe of the incumbent) and I know she would argue that the elections were fair. She's well educated and has been to the states. The truth is you really can't trust anyone including domestic and international sources of media. But no matter who you ask, everyone agrees that things are only getting worse.

As for my safety, no need to worry. The violence has spread in size, but not in geography. It's still very localised in Kibera in Nairobi and in Nakuru/Eldorat area. The whitey-burbs I'm staying in is quite calm.

January 24th-27

Spent these days on safari (Maasai Mara and Lake Nakuru). Lot’s of fun stories and cool things, but I think it wouldn’t do justice just writing about it without pictures, so you’ll have to wait until I get back.

January 19

I wake up feeling spectacular. We have breakfast and organize tips and equipment donations for our staff. The porter who carried my stuff the whole way wore striking hot-pink jump pants. I’m jealous. The tipping ceremony is quite hilarious. We give out the tips and then our staff of 35 sing the Kilimajaro song in Swahili. This is the only day it didn’t precipitate at all; an all-around glorious day of hiking. Not sore at all. Get back into the Kibo hotel around 4pm and have two orders of strawberry ice cream before dinner. This is a typical example of peculiar things that are common in Africa. Four of us order two bowls of chocolate ice cream and two of vanilla. The waiter disappears for 10 anticipatory minutes before returning to inform us they’re out of vanilla. One person changes to chocolate and the other to strawberry. The waiter disappears for another 5 minutes before coming back to tell us they only have strawberry. Weird. I rationalized that while he was telling us about the lack of vanilla, the cow with the chocolate utter wondered away. Nonetheless, the strawberry cow provided one of the best ice cream experiences of my life.

January 18

We start hiking at midnight so we can get good footing on the frozen ground. The next 12 hours are an indescribable hell. The mothers in my group compared it to giving birth. The best I can do is liken it to waking up with the worst hangover of your life, except instead of sleeping in and doing nothing all day, you are woken up at midnight to hike uphill for eight hours in temperatures around -15 degrees Fahrenheit on no food in the past 24 hours. And of course, despite the fact that we could see hardly any snow on the peak on the way up, we summitted in an all-out blizzard. It felt like we were walking for survival the second day of a nuclear winter. Very surreal.

My head thought it was a cement mixer and my eyelashes (the only part of my body exposed) were frozen-white icicles. Every five-minute break we took I sat down and fell asleep against my backpack, despite reprimands from my guide. I slept not due to fatigue, but because it was the only possible reprieve from the headache. But I made it to Uhuru peak, the highest point in Africa (19,800ft). There’s less than 50% oxygen at the top, so there were no organized group shots or celebrating at all. It was get in and get out as fast as possible. The lack of a spectacular view (or any view for that matter) was very disappointing.

The way down was equally as painful. The scree was now loose and every slip-step on the way down sent my headache off. I got some help an hour away from camp when a porter met me to take my bag.

We rested at camp for a few hours (I still couldn’t find the stomach to eat) and then set off for another three-hour hike down to a lower camp. Already feel much better upon arrival and ate a full meal for the first time in 48 hours. Delicious soup, rice, beef stew and fresh fruit. We have our first “washy washy” in a few days. I’m not sure how many of the staff know that “washy washy” isn’t exactly how us westerners would phrase it?

January 17

I wake up below Mwenzi peak with a splitting headache, the kind that throbs of pain with every pulse. I have some tea and get up to pee, but end up puking out everything I’ve consumed in the past 24 hours en route. Apparently both the stomach and brain need oxygen to function properly. The hike is exceedingly painful, but visually spectacular. We head to Kibo camp at the base of the main peak across desert. I find it really strange how the climates are ordered on the ascent: plains then rainforest then brush, then desert then glaciers. Weird. Head to bed at 6:30pm to prepare for the 11pm wakeup call for the final ascent. 16,000 ft.

January 16

Hike to the base of Mwenzi peak (the lower of the two peaks of Kili). Other than my tentmate, Peter, everyone else is feeling some effects of altitude sickness. Suckas. Peter and I are bouncing around snapping pictures during a sleet-filled acclimatization hike while the rest of the group suffers. Added a new game (“Animals”) to the drug-dealer, taboo etc. array of games of hilarity. 14,000 ft.

Night of the 15th

*********************************************************************************

Let’s pause for a moment to discuss philosophy. I think it’s stupid to come to Africa to “find yourself” because there aren’t that many mirrors. But I guess I came to gain “perspective,” which must be interpreted as a deeper understanding of how the world is, but more specifically how I interact with the experiences I have (human input), how I process experience and how I make decisions based on that input.


I’ve thought a lot about my future in the past year. The D-date for my adulthood to start in on my return. I had three criteria for a career: (in no particular order) something enjoyable, something profitable (instrumental for further enjoyment) and something that results in positive change for the world. I aimed for two of the three before (baseball, alternative energy etc.), but through social entrepreneurship I can accomplish all three. But I want more than just a career satisfying all three; I also want to “get it.” And that is where I’ll begin this discussion.


I fell asleep at 8:30pm and woke up at midnight having to pee like a racehorse … a racehorse that needs to pee very badly. This only required getting out of my sleeping bag, putting on shoes, walking 20ft, unzipping and letting the clear and copious flow. But at 11,000ft this got my heart racing. Normally when I start on the philosophy at night I know to cut it off before it gains steam, but I’m too awake to fall asleep anyway, so I let it go. Maybe this is a starting point for perspective.


There are obviously many different types of people in the world, but for the purpose of this mental jaunt I’ll divide the population into three broad categories.


The first category is people who “get it.” They comprise between 0.01% and 0.001% of the population, or roughly 4,000 to 40,000 people in the US. At first glance this figure seems extremely small, but I can find equal reason to think it’s too big. It is tough to describe what it means to “get it,” but without an attempt this ramble is pointless. To “get it” you have to be comfortable in every situation, you have to always say and do the right thing (and not just for image’s sake), you have to have a profound effect on the people around you and you have to have an unbelievable understanding of yourself and the world. These are all necessary attributes for “getting it,” but it is by no means a sufficient list. Very, very few successful people “get it,” but all people who “get it” are successful. This is because when you have a deep understanding of yourself and human interaction with the world, you have both the initiative and ability to cause ripples in society whether its financially in the marketplace, globally in culture or quality of life, or interpersonally.

The dearth of people who “get it” not only means it’s possible to live a life without ever meeting such a person, but it’s likely. I’m fortunate enough to know two people who I believe to “get it.” One is my parents’ teacher Rinpoche. The other is Colin, the founder and CEO of GVN.

(WARNING: this is longwinded, but it all ties back in with my life and perspective eventually and its essential to understand what “getting it” means to me if you are to follow any of the later introspection, so longwinded it must be. Please skip to the next post if you’re only interested in hiking.)

Back to Rinpoche and Colin. Let’s examine the differences between these two, as their inclusion in this group serves as the similarities. Rinpoche is Buddhist. Colin is Christian. Rinpoche is deeply religious. I didn’t know Colin was Christian until I knew he was Christian. Presumably their religion helped each “get it,” but religion hardly seems like a prerequisite for “getting it” given their range of devotion. At least I hope it’s not a prerequisite, otherwise I’m in trouble. Rinpoche is considered to be enlightened, the Buddhist cousin of “getting it.” Because of the similarity between “getting it” and enlightenment it is likely that a disproportionate number of Buddhists “get it.” But this is only idle speculation, and I don’t believe Buddhism to be a prerequisite in any case.


Before moving on to the next two categories of people, let me stress now that while it is better to “get it” than not, neither of the following two groups is better in any way nor better off than the other; they’re just different.


The second category is people who might have a slight chance to “get it,” but it is not worth their effort – nor anyone else’s – to get them there. This group consists of 95-99% of the population, or roughly 380-396 million in the US. Now there could be a number of reasons why “getting it” is not worth the effort for a person in this category.

One subcategory is people who either aren’t intelligent enough to “get it,” or lack the necessary education or means to get to the point where “getting it” could be a realistic goal. This sounds harsh, but the purpose of this exercise is to think, not to be PC. To illustrate this subcategory, consider Africa. Plenty of people here are bright enough, but can “getting it” be a viable or worthwhile goal when pitted against the struggle just to earn a living and escape the cycle of poverty? For people in Princeton or New York, this subcategory is a small minority of the people we know (because getting it doesn’t require a vast amount of intelligence, schooling and wealth, only some minimum threshold of each).

A second subcategory – the majority of people we know – is people who are slaves to their upbringing and experiences. Their nature and nurture has congealed by adulthood into a conception of the good life that does not include “getting it.” Although they may wish to have many of the same qualities associated with “getting it” their ideal life does not include “getting it.”

Let’s examine a few examples to further understand this group. (NOTE, if you are reading this blog, you are NOT one of the following people, because I know these people will never read this blog. But it’s possibly you may know these people thus the examples will remain anonymous.)

The first person is a middle-aged father. He’s a great all-around person. He likely had some experiences growing up that left him feeling inadequate or unaccepted. This resulted in a very mild streak of anger, which he has eradicated (or compensated for) by being unusually mellow and cool to the point it strikes the keen eye as peculiar. His concept of the good life involves: being a great husband and father; retirement; seeing his kids do great things; and probably not much else.

The second example is a student who stood out academically even at Princeton. He has a wide network of friends, works a high-paying job, and will no-doubt be hugely successful because he is so smart and driven. He’s perfectly nice and friendly. He likely was under huge pressure from his parents to succeed. Although I didn’t interact with him a whole lot, I suspect he struggles (or is unable) to open up and really be close with anyone. This could lead to trouble – or at least suboptimality – down the road (e.g., marriage), but it might not and it might not even bother him if it does. His concept of the good life is great success and a family life that is as perfect as he is aware one can be.

The third example is another Princeton student. Although I didn’t interact with her a whole lot either, she was one of my favorite people at the school. She’s super positive and friendly etc. She struggles slightly with the fact that she truly believes the world isn’t quite as wonderful as she wishes she thought it was. I hope she lives out her concept of the good life, which is to have lots of close friends, a great husband and kids, affect positive change on the world, and continue with only a small gap between actual perception of the world and desired perception of the world. I fear that her desire for pure optimism will continue to clash with her experience, especially as she begins a career in finance.

It is important to reiterate that these examples are in the second category of people not because of success, awesomeness of personality, intelligence etc. They are in this category only because it is not worthwhile for them to pursue “getting it.”


The third and final category is people who have a tangible chance to “get it” and are best off trying to “get it.” This group comprises 1-5% of the population or roughly 4 to 20 million in the US. These people have the ability to understand what getting it entails. If they’ve never met someone who “gets it” they may not be aware “getting it” exists. Or they may think they know people who “get it” who actually don’t. But these people are capable of understanding what “getting it” means. In order for these people to actually “get it” a number of things need to happen. I wish I knew what exactly, but I don’t; it likely involves a lot of good choices and luck. Notice from the size of the categories that less than 1% of these people will ever “get it.” It is a worthwhile quest, nonetheless, because it is a part of their concept of the good life and “getting it” will practically ensure that all other aspects of their concept of the good life will materialize. It is also a worthwhile quest because with each step closer to “getting it” the quality of life improves. “Getting it” is not an eternal salvation-like pursuit in which you must put in your dues now for a total reward in the future; there is value in every progress. I’m in this category.


I apologize if this is beating a dead horse, but let me provide one more example to illustrate the distinctions among the three categories. When I was a little younger – and even more naïve – I would have read a blurb like this and hastily placed my grandfather in the category of people who “get it.” This would be typical behavior of someone like myself in group three to make this mistake. Of everyone I’ve ever known, I probably have the most respect for my grandfather; he’s witty, kind, brilliant, successful and unique. But even though he has many of the same qualities as those who “get it” he belongs in category two, because his qualities fall directly from his experiences, which is not “getting it.” My confusion lied in the distinction between “getting it” and old-age wisdom. Perhaps this is confusing, but he simply happened to live out the typical Jewish-American concept of the good life, while managing to keep his sanity (haha). I don’t believe having a deep understanding of self and interaction with the world was ever a clear part of his goals. He merely picked up a recognizable portion of such awareness by being smart and having a lot of experience. He belongs in group two, because he doesn’t quite “get it” and he would not have been better off pursuing “getting it.”


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It’s now 4am and I have to pee again. This is the first time I’ve peed twice in the middle of a night that did not follow drinking things measured by proof. This urination was well worth it. As I’m letting it flow onto a now well-hydrated bush, I see a comet fly through the sky. It is so clear I could actually see red around the comet’s head. Within moments a second flies by. Reeediculous. The night sky now has my full attention and it’s unlike any I’ve ever seen before. There must be over a hundred thousand stars distinctly visible, with over 100 of them brighter than any of the planets have ever been on the east coast. I can see both the North Star and the Southern Cross. Reeediculous. I look over to see the gleam of the moon off Kili’s summit. Above the summit is a legit twinkling star completely spazzing. I think this is the first twinkling star I’ve ever seen. I actually stop to wonder what it is. Song makes sense now.

As I slip back into the tent I see a flash of light across the plains below. I’m completely perplexed until I hear the thunder and realize I’m literally above the storm. So surreal.

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The question is posed, “why not Buddhism if the goal is ‘getting it?’” I’ll start with the surface reasons for hesitancy and progress to deeper barriers.

First of all, becoming Buddhist far from guarantees “getting it.” A quick glance at my parents’ sangha (Buddhist group) reveals that. Rinpoche has one student who is very close to “getting it” (well ahead of the rest of us category threes). The rest of the sangha is a mix of category twos and threes who seem to know how to have a good time and might be improving their lives, but aren’t any closer after years of Buddhism to “getting it” than I believe myself to be now. Now this isn’t a barrier in itself, because there is value in the journey, so any positive movement is worthwhile. But this concern holds more weight in tandem with a deeper concern, which is that I see the Buddhist life as an abandonment of one of my other goals (improving the world).

Now it is easy to say that my life goals will change if I convert and start the journey, but which criteria should I use in decision making: my current knowledge and aspirations or what my view of the world might be if I make certain decisions? I can only use the beliefs, information and goals I have at present. Otherwise it’s like choosing to smoke crack because you suspect that once you do you’ll become addicted and develop ‘being high as much as possible’ as a goal. In other words, you can’t act towards a goal that won’t exist until the action in question enables it, otherwise the rationality of decision making breaks down. And this brings us to the crux of the issue: rationality and belief.

If I have one fundamental belief it is that knowledge can only be justified by induction and deduction. From what I understand, Buddhism has a system of justification akin to this notion of rationality, but fundamentally different. This fact combined with many Buddhist beliefs that fly in the face of rational deduction and induction pose a serious barrier.

Now there is a glaring fallacy with my fundamental belief: how can I justify it? Any deductive or inductive support of induction and deduction would beg the question. So how did I come to believe that knowledge can only be justified by induction and deduction? The answer must be faith (which accounts for all belief that doesn’t come to be through observation or logic).

This is extremely worrisome. Faith has been my longtime nemesis and now it seems that everything I claim to know rests upon it? To see why faith is so troublesome, notice how it avoids the same issue deduction and induction had with self-justification. Let’s pretend I now hold that knowledge can only be justified by deduction, induction or faith and ask again how this can be justified. The answer is faith. I can have faith that faith is a valid mans of justifying knowledge and this is not question-begging because faith simply isn’t subject to the laws of rationality. It’s not subject to any laws; it’s the anarchy of belief. Faith is a boundless, unchecked havoc-wreaker on thinking and here I am, a man of faith?!

Upon closer inspection, however, I might not be in as much trouble as it seems. Faith is bound by one law: just like with beliefs based on deduction and induction, you cannot will yourself to have a faith-based belief. You cannot choose to have faith in the existence of god; faith must already be present before reasoning on the belief takes place (a lot more on this to come in a future post). Faith-based beliefs are those beliefs which I hold to be true, but which I did not come by as a result of observation or thought. A belief in an omnipotent Being solely because there seems no other plausible means for the existence of humanity is not faith-based; it is inductive. A belief that the bible is the word of god despite all the evidence piled against it (or at least in the absence of any evidence for it) is faith-based.

So what do I have faith in? Well for one, I have faith that all other knowledge can only be justified by induction and deduction alone. And if I have faith in that, then clearly I don’t have faith in anything else. Is my belief that induction and deduction alone can provide justification for all beliefs except this one justified? No, it cannot be. But I have faith in this even if it is unclear how this faith developed. It is therefore pointless to convince others to hold this view, because it falls from faith alone. This is saddening, but at least my base of knowledge remains stable internally. My wealth of knowledge still supports itself to me. I can live in a world where I have to accept a Christian’s beliefs on equal footing as my own, but I cannot live in a world where I have to challenge everything I hold to be true right down to two plus two equaling four because deduction might be fallible.

Even with faith in the mix, belief is not a matter of choice. This is where my true incompatibility with Buddhism (and all religions) lies. I cannot alter my belief system just because it might be in my best interest. To convert would be to attempt to abandon everything I hold to be true, and such is impossible; open-mindedness is admirable, but, at such a fundamental level, unattainable. Belief is not a matter of choice.

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January 15

8 hours of hiking including all stops. Others in group are starting to feel signs of altitude sickness, but I feel the best I have in days. Skies cleared and the views of the peaks above and the plains below are unbelievable. We’re being super pampered on this hike. We have a team of 35 (three guides, a cook and 31 porters)! I feel like we should be waging war on a small nation. We get tea in bed to start the day, take meals in a mess tent, have a toilet tent and are eating really good food. The porters each carry about 30 pounds on their heads, some are wearing loafers, and they still fly by us on route. “Jambo, Jambo” say the whiteys every time they pass. And yet they remain really friendly? Camp at 11,000.

January 14

Overcast, so no spectacular views of the mountain. Took two-hour drive to starting point. “African Massage” = 2-hour jeep ride on African roads. First walk’s a breeze, but got a nose-bleed. I always was that fat kid it the front of the class. Camp at 8,000ft.

January 13

Good news: bags came. Bad news: still sick. We listen to a speech about how demanding the climb is and I can’t even hear well without hawking up wads of mucous. Bring it on!

January 11-12

The third world is so dangerous these days that I got sick before I even arrived. To add distress to disease, my bags didn’t join me in Nairobi. If they don’t show up tomorrow I’ll have to climb the highest free-standing mountain in the world in Sauconys and my Baggio jersey.

WELCOME

Welcome to my Blog. So on the slow internet over here I can’t always retroactively post blogs, and because I’m mostly transcribing things from a journal, the days on which I post things don’t line up at all with the day I wrote it. So I’m going to title each entry by the date on which it was written. Also you should be warned that there’s going to be a lot of philosophy throughout. To keep it interesting, or even worthwhile, I’m going to try to keep it all relevant to my life. Therefore, this blog will be deeply introspective at times. If you aren’t interested in that sort of stuff, by all means skip it. If you are interested and do choose to read it, I’d love to hear your opinions, questions, criticisms etc. Feel free to fire away at anything I think, how I choose to live and (especially!) what you think I fail to see. Enjoy!

-Rafa (as I'm known over here haha)