No Longer in Limbo

"Hi, Mr. Travel Agent. I would like to book a one way ticket from Boston to Mumbai for Sunday, I have a meeting in India Tuesday morning."

...

"Yes, I know its Friday."

...

"Can you also book a ticket from New Delhi to Denver sometime around Christmas. On second thought, there is a high likelihood that I will need to go to Zambia between now and Christmas."

...

"That's right, Zambia."

The conversation didn't go quite like that. I expected it to, but the travel agent has delt with us a few too many times. He didn't even blink an eye:

"How about I book you on this completely refundable ticket through Ethiopia to Zambia from India, so that in the case you do go to Zambia, you've got it. If not, give me a call, we'll cancel that one and find another way to get you out of India for Christmas."

It was a down to the wire decision - Zambia vs. India. In the end, India came through.

Yes, its been A LONG time since the last blog posting, and yes, they have come VERY infrequently since my departure from Zambia.

My aim is to remedy that.

India will be my new home for the foreseeable future. Home...? You might say more like homeless at this point. Since returning from Zambia in June, I've been bouncing between hotels, friend's spare bedrooms or couches, and my cherished tent. For the next three weeks at least, I'm bouncing around India to meet with a number of partners. Hotel rooms and couches - Indian style.

Homeless ... no. Nomadic.

Ah, and happy mo-vember from Mumbai!

Got Elephants?

I stare out my hotel room window at the highway, enjoying the respite of air conditioning from the summer desert heat outside. My chocolate milk and snacks from the grocery store feel like delicacies, well earned after a long day of work. I'm trying to avoid the pitfalls of previous long work stints in the desert of Southern California - long hours, work frustrations, illogical decisions - although these can be said about most jobs. The days seem to blend together between working, sleeping, and eating. Its a strange exile at a forgotten airport, with carcasses of dying airplanes that seem to wilt in the heat and dirt.

Looking around, there is something lacking. I haven't been able to put a finger on it - until now. There are no elephants. Not in the hangar, not roaming the airport runways. Surely not in town - snacking on the shrubs outside the hotel. I would dare say their aren't even pink elephants to be seen - and there is surely no elephant in my hotel room to ignore (no large gorillas in the room to ignore either...)

When I have been able to escape to the mountains, I have been more worried about run-ins with scarce bears or mountain lions than a heard of roaming elephants, poisonous snakes, or ghastly spiders. A friend wears a bear bell for a trail run in an area with a bear sow with two cubs. I think twice whether the intent is to alert and scare or alert and entice - ala the dinner bell. When I emerge from my tent at night, there are no hippos to look out for and no lions to deter me from straying more than a few inches from my sleeping bag. I wonder more about how many hikers we will see on the trail and what is for lunch - not whether I will become lunch.

Its a different mindset. A different comfort level in the wild. Can it even be considered wild? Do you have elephants?

Life choices...

I've missed the mountains. I find them peaceful, grounding, and inspiring. I've spent most of the last month playing in the mountains after returning from Zambia, venturing places where you don't have to worry about lions when pitching your tent or look for poisonous snakes when hiking. I even got to play a bit in that divine white stuff - snow. I thought it would provide me with an opportunity to clear my mind and focus on a few upcoming decisions. Instead, I found myself paying more attention to the beauty of the location, hiking steep sections requiring concentration, or wearing crampons and trying not to (A) trip and fall in a _bad_ place or (B) tear a hole in my pants.

Not long before I left Zambia, a friend told me a story of his. It turns out, he used to be a monster rock climber, living for a few years in his car as he traveled from one hot climbing destination to another. He was even featured on the cover of Climbing magazine - for an article he wrote himself about a climbing trip. After a few beers, he regaled me with a story about how he had gotten where he is today, working for a renowned organization to improve the lot of the world's children. He was offered a position at a small software company in a mountain town where the focus was on morning ski turns. He was then offered a position with his current organization, living far from the life he had lived - and far from any good climbing. He opted for the more challenging, ambitious job over a more personally satisfying lifestyle. This is a choice that I consistently debate over, the pursuit of happiness or purpose. While you don't have to exclusively choose one over the other, both can have a significant influence over your path in life.

I find myself approaching a similar fork in the road (but without his dichotomous choice in career path). What is that next step for me? After Zambia, what comes next? Is it still across the pond and south a bit? maybe north a bit? Or is it something totally foreign - like staying put? I think it might be time to finally figure out what I want to do when I grow up.

Pictures are from Mt. Baker and Mt. Rainier - courtesy of my climbing partners.

Coffee and Elephants

I woke up last Sunday morning, rolled out of the tent, and started to boil water for coffee. The sun was warm, but not yet hot. Our tent was situated on a bluff overlooking a wide turn in the Zambezi river. As I finished making coffee I sat down to enjoy the morning and breakfast. An elephant on the opposite side of the river was doing the same, rummaging through the bush alongside the river, picking and choosing which grass to pluck or tree to taste. Its a rough life. And its a life that I will miss.

There is plenty about living in Zambia that I won't miss, but probably more that I will. There hasn't been a month here when one tree or another isn't in bloom. Right now there are bunches of hanging yellow flowers. The incessant buzz from bus stops, from bus 'pimps' vying for your business to the pop music blaring out the window. The serenity of the countryside and the smiles on children's faces. Shouts of 'How are YOU?!', quickly followed by 'give me money' or 'I want a sweet.' When I look back on this chapter in my life, I expect the pleasurable memories to remain, and the annoyances to fade away.

I could get nostalgic - but I don't think that's quite my style. But its not everywhere you can share your morning coffee with an elephant.

Teaser

I've been swept up in a whirlwind of activity in the past few weeks. The ruckus of site installs has abated, most work challenges involved with doubling the number of clinics we are working in have settled down. I even managed to take a vacation.

My departure from Zambia is imminent. I don't know when, or if, I will be back. I think so. I haven't quite come to grips with leaving Zambia yet. As I sit and attempt to type, words fail to come. I instead look at some pictures...

Dried fish sold on a roadside stand.

Some of these speak for themselves...

We were stuck behind this truck going uphill for some time.

And then had to deal with a road full of potholes like these.

Ah, and there are so many more...