.:: The Daily Cowbell ::.

Loco | We'll never understand the English language

2006-04-06T10:28:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - Ok, read this poem and tell me that English isn't crazy:

When the English tongue we speak.
Why is break not rhymed with freak?
Will you tell me why it's true
We say sew but likewise few?
And the maker of the verse,
Cannot rhyme his horse with worse?
Beard is not the same as heard
Cord is different from word.
Cow is cow but low is low
Shoe is never rhymed with foe.
Think of hose, dose,and lose

*Smacking head* ARGH!!!!

-cw

PSA | Start counting down to 6/27/07

2006-04-03T12:20:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - Finally, it's come.

The Simpsons Movie.
July 27, 2007.

-cw

Blogging the Nile | Finally, the recap!

2006-03-26T18:29:00.001+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - Long time comin' on this one, sorry about it! Hopefully when I catch up a little more I'll do a better job on keeping this baby updated. Anyways, here's a little recap of my trip.

12/16/05 - Left for Cairo, but we're forced (by Ethiopian Airlines) to stay overnight. Luckily, they supply us with hotel rooms.
12/17/05 - Finally arrive in Cairo. We're picked up by George, who tells us he can drive us all over Egypt... for the price of my right arm. We'll give him a test-run when we go to Mt. Sinai tomorrow.
12/19/05 - Drove to, climbed, and came back from Sinai. George overcharged us, and Lauran and I went to the big bazaar in town, Khan el-Khalili, with public transportation. Sianara, George.
12/20/05 - Checked out the Egyptian Museum. Pretty cool place to hang out, I'd say. Afterwards, we indulged in an expensive meal at the Cairo Hilton. Before turning in for the night, I wrestled with the washing machine.
12/21/05 - Headed up to Alexandria. For the most part, it was super-overrated. However, I truly got a thrill out of the Catacombs of Kom ash-Shuqqafa; I'll never forget that freaky place. (Bonus post - Pictures of Alexandria)
12/22/05 - The Pyramids. Just wow. (Bonus post - Those massive triangle thingys)
12/23/05 - Looked around in the Coptic area of Cairo, then walked for a long time. Then I took a night-bus to Luxor. (Bonus post - Where I was yesterday, satellite view)
12/25/05 - Merry Christmas! Yesterday I did the Karnak Temple, Luxor Temple, and Luxor Museum. Today, I explored the Valley of the Kings, Deir al-Bahri, and ate McDonalds for the first time in 6 months. Tonight I'll take a night train back to Cairo.
12/27/05 - Hung out at an Egyptian coffehouse, Fishawy's, for hours. And it's waaaaay more fun than it sounds.
12/29/05 - Finally back in Kenya. I hate Ethiopian Airlines, and I really hate the Egyptian immigration officials. And my name is not Webb-buh-buh.

Ok, that's all, folks! Hope you read and enjoy these backposts. Sorry they're so late, but hey, art takes time. You'll get over it.

-cw, (or in Arabic, for the final time, )

Loco | Programmable Soda: need I say more?

2006-03-26T09:18:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - Oh, this is just crazy.

For example, a programmable cola bottle with buttons for lemon, lime, vanilla, and cherry flavors as well as a caffeine button allows for thirty-two potential choices of soda. A programmable paint container with twenty pigment additive buttons allows the consumer to choose from one million colors.

Do we really need this? Survey says: "YES".

-cw

Hero | Milton Academy ROCKS!

2006-03-23T23:10:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - Hope you're enjoying your day. Here's a little nugget that should crack you up, provided you have sound on your PC. If not, dude? C'mon! Stone Age was years ago, the sell speakers for like 17,542 for the dollar. Anyways, turn on your sound, click play, and watch my damn dance NOW!

*Make sure your sound is on, too.

-cw

PSA | Just a little bit longer...

2006-03-23T13:08:00.000+03:00

Missing Posts
Originally uploaded by webby37.

NAIROBI, KENYA - Not too much longer, now. I've only got maybe 4 or 5 more posts before my Egypt trip (waaaaaay back in December) is fully revealed.

My apologies to my fans who have been waiting. I think you'll be pleasantly pleased with the work done.

-cw

PSA | Just so ya know...

2006-03-08T20:33:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - I am still alive.

The reason I haven't posted any new posts lately is because of the behind-the-scenes post you're not seeing... yet. I've finally got around to typing up my Egypt trip recap, and currently, there are 3 updates just begging to be posted. However, my plan isn't just to post the old/new posts when I get them done, but instead, to wait until their all done, post them all at once, and then do a new post, linking in the old/new posts I'd just added. Makes sense?

Special thanks to you-know-who for the idea!

-cw

Worship | Speed Sister

2006-03-08T08:08:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - In response to me being a wee-bit late to Monday's staff worship last week (when I was scheduled to do all the week's worships), I was called to do today's thought. My sister was today's inspiration. Enjoy!

Since day one, Mom always used to say that I’d be a stockbroker on Wall Street and my sister would be an NFL linebacker. That’s not a mistake.

I’m the kind of guy who likes to sit down, read a book, study, play a game, sleep, do whatever. Ariel’s the kind of guy (no typo there) who likes to beat up boys. I drink coffee, she drinks Gatorade. In academy, I ran the school’s online fantasy football team. Ariel just ran the football team. I was a camp counselor, probably because of my exceptional dealings with kids. My sister, who’s never worked at camp, is scheduled to be a lifeguard. The buoys are already on standby.

Last year, she played basketball for 3 months on a knee that would swell up like a watermelon during the pre-game lay-up drill. After those 3 months of what the average human would describe as “nearly unbearable pain”, my dad finally forced her to go get it checked. The MRI showed she had ripped both meniscus and her ACL. She’s a dude.

Me? When I stub my toe, I’m on the injured-reserved for the rest of the week.

The difference between us is probably the most polar in our skiing style. I like to get up the mountain, stop at the top for a drink of water, and meander down the face of the hill, cutting back and forth across the slope. It’s not that I can’t go fast, or that I don’t want to, either. I just figure that since it takes a solid five minutes for the ski lift to carry us to the top, there’s no point in just rushing back down again, huh? I stop to take pictures, wait for my mom, jam on my MP3 player, just do whatever.

Ariel, on the other hand, feels that God invented downhill skis to do just one thing: go downhill. She swings off lift, makes “French fries” (as opposed to my “pizza pie”), and guns down the grade like there’s no tomorrow. She gathers speed, crouches down like she’s Peekabo Street, and it’s off. All of a sudden, snowboarders bow down, children run to their mothers, and the elderly dive for the woods. Ariel has no brakes, and she enjoys skiing like this. Move out of her way, or prepared to be lying broken and bloodied along the way.

The most horrifying thing she does literally involves 4 and 5 year olds. On any major mountain, there are “ski-school” classes for people who want to brush up on their skills, and they’re only a day class, so really, it’s a great opportunity to go out there, take the class, and gain a little more skill so the next day’s skiing can be even better. While the adults and teens are at these classes, little barely-able-to-walk kids are in their own classes, learning how to ski or ride the mountain as well. The absolute cutest sight on the slopes is to look up and see a line of 10 of these little runts, buttoned up to their neck by mom and dad, following inches behind their instructor. They fall on their butts, yea, but they just pop right back up. No fear, and the most beautiful thing you see all day.

Most skiers like to go on by the little ones, watch them and smile back on the good old days, and then pass on by. Not Ariel. When she sees a groupd of kids in front of her, cutting left and right across the hill, she aims right for the middle of the group and tries to go through them without hitting any. And she’s not very good and this sport. Usually (and I wish I could say this was a joke), there’s 3 or 4 kiddies lying on the ground when she blazes through. Then, she turns her head around, gleefully snickers at her accomplishment, and continues smoking down the mountain, looking for more victims. She’s the devil.

I don’t get a thrill out of this sort of thing. While my sister thinks my system of skiing is boring, I know in my heart that she’s wrong and I’m right, that she’s going to kill a man and that I’m going to have a great, safe day skiing. Any other human would agree that her way of skiing is horrifying, that it’s dangerous, and could very easily get her other knee dismantled. But same thing that frightens you, me, and 99% of the rest of the snow-loving world is Ariel’s life, her style, her drug. She gets down the mountain, sweat heavy on her forehead, and is always the first one to say “Ok, one more?” The very things that scare people – the speed, the altitude, the lack of control – are the very things that put joy into her life.

There are other things that scare people, too. Persecution sounds rough. I hate facing tribulation in my life, and suffering? What could be worse? But really, aren’t those the things that put joy into our lives? Romans 8:37 says “In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.” Not in spite of them, but in them, through them, with them. A true believer doesn’t have God in his life despite these things, but really, because of them.
One of these days my sister’s going to crash. I’m a bad person, so I’ll probably laugh at her and say she had it coming. But hopefully, it’ll be a crash small enough that she’s not seriously injured, but big enough that she learns how she’s putting the lives of others in jeopardy on the mountain. But I know this kid, and I know that no matter what, it won’t extinguish her fire. She’ll continue speeding down the slopes, and no matter how scary it is, she’ll keep doing it.

Shouldn’t we all be so lucky?

-cw

Update | Chiefs cuts

2006-03-03T11:57:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - Ok, so I did give you warning...

My prediction for what will be done, however, is different: KC cuts Shields, McCleon, Warfield, Barber, and possibly Priest.

So really, I was mostly right. We stilll haven't heard anything about Will Shields, but his agent recently stated that he will be playing in 2006, so you've gotta assume it's for KC. No news on Priest, thank the Lord. Gary Stills was my only suprise, but really, he's always been a guy on my nerves because he literally does one job all the time (right up there with long-snapper Kendell Gammon). So thank you, Carl.

The word of Chris: I like these moves. It was the best way to go under the cap. Hopefully something will happen and we can replace Warfield... anyone interested in Ty Law? or Lawyer Milloy? Reggie Howard? Hmmm... There are definately other cornerbacks on the free agent market, plus the oppurtunity in the NFL Draft. Let's hope the Chiefs management has a trick up their sleeve.

Also, the CBA got a 3-day extension before free-agency began, so it might not be the last cuts we see. Pray.

You heard it here first.

-cw

Observations | SPECIAL "CHIEFS OFF-SEASON" EDITION

2006-03-02T08:19:00.000+03:00

BOYS’S DEAN’S OFFICE – Remember a long time ago when I used to do this blog every day? No? think back harder…

Anyways, I used to do this blog every day, and in those days, I had seriously considered a new project: a Daily Cowbell, KC Chiefs edition. Did you know that there’s one new blog started every minute? Well, with my Chiefs knowledge, I thought that perhaps being a center for Chiefs news, rumors, and commentaries would be pretty awesome.

I decided against doing it, in the long run (although I have considered the next step –the podcast. Keep posted…), but with free agency (without this mystical thing called a CBA) starting today, I figured I’d give a special version of my take on what’s going on. So without any more delay...

Three Chiefs Observations:

1. The end of one era, the beginning of another. After the Chiefs’ final victory over the Cincinnati Bengals in Arrowhead, Dick Vermeil expectedly stepped down from the helm, leaving KC without a coach for the first time in 5 years. GM/President/Head Cheerleader Carl Peterson moved quickly and confirmed the rumors that had been swirling for the last few weeks with the hiring of Herman Edwards, former Jets coach. When the Chiefs pulled Vermeil from the Rams, it cost them a first round draft pick; when they pulled Herm from the Jets, it only cost them a 4^th. Depreciation, anyone?

I for one am incredible excited about this move. Sure, Vermeil’s time was amazing – who didn’t enjoy scoring 40 points a game! – and has loads of good memories for me. However, it didn’t take me but 2 years under the Vermeil reign to actually miss the Marty Schottenheimer days, when we’d score 10 point and win versus score 40 and lose. Edwards, who actually coached under Schottenheimer here in KC years ago, is a mix of Marty’s defensive prowlness and Vermeils bonding-with-players-so-much-that-he-will-probably-cry-after -every-emotional-victory. Cool.

The bad news is in the hiring of Herm, KC broke an unofficial promise to Al Saunder, the architect of the Greatest Show on ~~Turf~~ Urf. In the last few years, Saunders has been approached by countless teams, from the Raiders to the Cornhuskers to the Peoria Pigskin Punchers, to be their head coach, and he always (for reasons unknown to fans) turned down these offers. Of course, it was because of the fact that he was 2^nd in the line of KC’s coaching succession. However, when that cup completely skipped to an entirely new line, Saunders likely felt betrayed, and so on he went to Washington to try and pull the miserable Redskins out of the pit. G’luck.

So to replace him, we upgraded offensive line coach Mike Solari to the mastermind’s position. From the outside, this might look stupid. O-Line coaches aren’t traditionally known to be revolutionaries in calling plays, and their experience isn’t in RBs and WRs like it is in those fat guys who knock over other fat guys. But really, no one was a better choice. Solari’s a guy whose name has been coming up in NFL circles in the past few years as a future o-cord. He’s worked almost directly with Saunders, so thinking like Sensei Al shouldn’t be a problem. And based on the work he’s done on the stellar offensive line, he’s got a strong knowledge of what works. I’m all in.

I like the changes that have been made, coaching-wise, this off-season. Let’s just pray it’ll make a difference this time around.

2. To T.O. or not to T.O.? So right around the ProBowl time, rumors started to fly out of Philadelphia that Terrell Owens – yes, that Terrell Owens – was looking for a new home to destroy. Suitors included Atlanta (Haha, him and Vick? LOL, ROTFL), Dallas (“Mr. Parcells, EVERY MEDIA OUTLET IN THE WORLD on line one.”), and Denver (Jokes aside, *gulp* Someone, right now, please clone Patrick Surtain.). However, Kansas City’s name has been coming up as well, and there’s a decent shot that the Chiefs really could come out of this off-season with a new number 81. Sorry, Chris Horn.

If T.O. isn’t traded here in the next like 8 hours, he’ll likely be cut by the Iggles, and then he’s free to sign with whichever team he wants. After a lot of soul-searching, praying, and a dice throw, I’m going to go with the opposite of what I’d say 3 months ago; Please, Carl, sign him. Yes, he’s a locker room cancer. Yes, he’s obnoxious. Yes, his end-zone dances aren’t as original as Chad Johnson’s. But T.O. is one of the 3 players in the NFL whose signing itself almost guarantees you 3 more wins per season. (In that list, I’m also putting my arch-nemesis Tom Brady and the playoff -punished Peyton Manning… speaking of him, wouldn’t it be funny if Peyton and Marty ended up on the same football team? You could toss on Jim Kelly as the backup QB, Curtis Martin, and the entire Atlanta Braves organization as well)

Terrell Owens is not Osama Bin Laden. He’s not Terrell Sadam Hussein or Terrell Jeff Dahmer or Terrell Scott Peterson. He’s a selfish football player who wants the ball 100% of the time. But really, what do you expect? Do you want your star wide receiver to not want the ball on every play? Especially when the star wide receiver is literally someone who can take it to the house any play? Would we be upset if Larry Johnson said he wanted 100% of the carries, or if Greg Wesley said he wanted 100% of the interceptions? Don’t think so either. He can help this team. This is the word of Chris: DO IT.

3. Cuts like a knife, but it feels so… wrong. So the AP’s reporting that there’s a chance that the Collective Bargaining Agreement won’t be reached in the next few hours. What does that mean? I dunno. So I went online to research it out. Here’s what I got:

One of the best things about the NFL is parallel to what’s the worst about MLB, and that’s the salary cap and revenue sharing. Basically, every team in the league is limited to how much money they can spend on players. This is so every team has a shot at getting good people and they’re not perennial losers like a dozen teams in the Major Leagues. Also, they all get equal money, no matter if they’re New York (who, between endorsements, TV deals, stadium naming rights, jacked-up-high ticket prices, and everything else makes $240m/year) or Green Bay (who makes like just under $100m/year). This makes life faaaaaaaaaaaaaair.

Well the thing that keeps that in place (the CBA) just expired without the NFL renewing it (they’re trying!), so as of now, while there’s a salary cap for 2006, there’s not one for 2007. Basically, why use your money now when you can buy EVERYONE next year. It’s a scary thing. If this does go down, the NFL will be the first league to have a salary cap go away rather than added to it. Not a good thing.

Even more locally, because of this whole money issue, there’s a list of 7 or 8 guys who the Chiefs could cut, including Shawn Barber, Chris Bober, Priest-Freaking-Holmes, Dexter MeCleon, Eric Warfield, John Welbourn, Greg Weseley, Jerome Woods, and the scariest of them all *gulp* Will Shields. Any/all of these guys could get shot down in order to make room for KC to sign new free agents and draft picks. While every team in the NFL is going through this crisis, the names of who we’re cutting looks pretty significant to me!

This is the word of Chris: Since something has to be done, I’d cut Barber, McCleon, Woods, and probably ask Shields to retire (with tears in my eyes). My prediction for what will be done, however, is different: KC cuts Shields, McCleon, Warfield, Barber, and possibly Priest. Sorry guys :(

Ok, so that’s about all. Hopefully I’ll do another Chiefs update pretty soon here, with good news coming from it. Later!

-cw

PSA | Renaissance

2006-03-01T22:33:00.000+03:00

BOYS’ DEAN’S OFFICE – I pose a riddle for you – a conundrum, if you will.

Q: What do you call a blogger who enters March with only one post for the year?

A: You call him Chris Webb.

So here I sit, wondering just where to begin. Since the last time I’ve written, I’ve:

Ridden a camel around the Great Pyramids
Eaten the best meal in Africa for about 50 cents.
Explored temple ruins while jamming to rockin’ beats of Phil Collins and Chicago
Broken, then fixed, then re-broke, then fixed again, then broke bad enough that I had to have a “Kip-like” pull into town, then had fixed, then broke one last time the gears on a (low quality) bicycle
Gone to the bathroom (end of story)
Made more runs into Nairobi
Gone “SLT” on a few more fellows
Taught my own government class (still in progress!)
Planned for my family’s soon trip to visit me
Ate a lot of chili paneer
Pulled off the greatest Valentine’s Day surprise somebody has ever seen
Hiked up the 2^nd tallest mountain in Africa
Almost died hiking down the 2^nd tallest mountain in Africa
Got lost, then found my way back on the way down from the 2^nd tallest mountain in Africa
Fell in love… with Wheatabix
Felt how spicy Indian food really is… about 2 hours after I ate it.
Decided on my new political affiliation
Done loads of grading
Nuked my computer
Wrote one blogpost

In a nutshell, that’s it.

But seriously, I know I’ve got lots of catching up to do. I’ve got tons that’s happened in Egypt, the most incredible adventure of teaching my own class, and the horrors of climbing to the peak of Mount Kenya. So much to say… and not a lot of time to say it.

I’m hoping this is the re-birth. I’m hoping this is my chance to get on my blog again. My apologies to Mom (a.k.a. Señora Nag), Mr. Ogan, and my millions of other fans across the globe.

We’re baaaa-aaaaaaack!

-cw

P.S. and by the way, the picture of the mountain on that last post – yea, I’ve stood at the top of that! 16,355 feet, baby!

PSA | 16,355 feet...

2006-02-21T18:40:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - Whew.... that thing was tall. I mean, really tall.

The late, great return of The Daily Cowbell is coming very very soon...

-cw

Blogging the Nile | Bored, "Ethiopian Airline SUCKS," and "Webb-buh-buh"

2005-12-29T13:33:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA – Finally! Home!

Three Observations:

1. Nothing to do… Due to some unforeseen circumstances, my trip, which was to end on the 31^st, was bumped up to me leaving on the 26^th. However, Ethiopian Airlines sucks (more on this later), and once I’d made plans to leave the 26^th, my flight got changed again to me leaving on the 29^th. The point is that when I was taking the Luxor train up to Cairo, I had no idea that my flight had been FUBAR’d to a later date. I skipped the chance to go to Aswan to see the great Abu Simbel so I’d be back to Cairo in enough time to make it to the airport. But, alas, BUZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!

So when I returned back to Cairo, I had a few days to kill, to say the least. Pretty much the only cool thing I did was go back to the Egyptian Museum. My first time there, Lauran had kind of rushed me around, and our trip to the museum that Lonely Planet: Egypt said would last between 3 and 5 hours ended up being more like 2. So going back a second time was totally worth it. All the stuff I hadn’t really had a chance to see was now front and center with me. Not only that, but some artifacts in the museum hailed from Karnak, Thebes, or Luxor. Now, all of a sudden, I knew where those places were. Wicked…

Otherwise, there really wasn’t a lot for me to do around Cairo. I considered taking a day-trip to Saqqara, the oldest pyramids in ancient Egypt, but backed out because of the money. I screwed around in Khan el-Khalili, getting some extra shopping done, spent more time at internet cafes, and had tons more koshari.

But for the most part, I was pretty bored in Cairo those last couple of days. That’s why Fishawy’s Coffeehouse did me some good towards the end there. I sat at a small table in the busy open restaurant, reading The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and listening to iGor, all while enjoying my tea and the smell of sheesha around me. So cool.

2. Ethiopian Airlines SUCKS. As I said, because of a situation, I had to shorten my trip by a few days. While it sucked, I figured I’d gotten the big things I needed to done, so I could safely go back without much delay. But late one afternoon, when I was just returning to the apartment, I was greeted with a phone call – my flight had been snipped. For some reason, it wouldn’t be coming in the day I needed it to after all, and my flight was kicked back a couple more days. Again, this sucked because I’d already made plans to come back. Had I known I had some extra time to spare, I would have taken a quick trip to Aswan to explore the sights down there. Now? Not so much.

It got much better when I reached the airport just to find my flight was delayed another 2 hours. Whoop-de-doo, can you guys by chance to anything when you tell people you’re gonna? STUPID. It didn’t end up being a big deal, since I was about to be harassed by two Egyptian immigration officials (more to come) and once I got to Addis Ababa, I’d be going straight to a hotel without TV, internet, or air conditioning, but it’s the principle.

The final straw came the next day, on my way from Ethiopia to Kenya. I walked into the airport, ran through security, and was ~~pleasantly pleased~~ demonly disturbed that my flight was again delayed, this time for an hour and a half. This was a little more serious today, because Elvin and Honey were to be in Nairobi at a certain time to pick me up, and I didn’t want them to have to wait for 2 hours for me to walk out. I wanted to text message Honey like I’d been over break, but my Egypt SIM card wouldn’t work in Ethiopia, as wouldn’t my Kenya card.

I’d had enough. I checked in my baggage, yelled at the desk man, and chased the hierarchy or supervisors high enogh for them to let me use a phone to call internationally to Kenya. While they insisted it wasn’t their problem, they could do nothing about it, I made it clear; it’s not my problem, and so if it’s not mine and I’m paying them to fly me somewhere, it actually was their problem. I got my phone call, but to alas, no one answered. I tried a few more times (to raise their charges) and then left, eventually giving into a $10-per-hour internet café. Blast.

I ended up making my flight on time, and we took off and landed without too many problems. (I was seated in between two strangers, I spilled my crappy lunch all over my shirt, and we had major “Lost”-like turbulence coming down.) Thankfully, I made it home safely, and not soon enough. If you ever have the choice between Ethiopian Airlines, and, oh let’s say chewing off your right arm, I trust you’ll make the right decision.

3. The birth of Webb-buh-buh. Then I had a classic moment in the immigration line leaving Egypt. Granted, this isn’t Ethiopian’s fault, but I’m going to pin it on them anyways.. This is a direct, word-for-word account of what the immigration official and I said.

Official #1: Passport please.
Webb: (Gives him the passport)
Official #1: (Glances at passport, looks up at my face to verify it matches. Looks at picture again, then looks back at me. Down one more time on the passport, then suspiciously peers at me) Webb-buh-buh… (Looks at picture again, then looks back at me. Back down, back up) Are you Egyptian?
Webb: (A little nervous) Um, no I am American.
Official #1: (Inquisitively) Are you sure you’re not Egyptian?
Webb: (A little irritated) I have an American passport.
Official #1: (Looks at picture again, then looks back at me.) Is your father Egyptian?
Webb: (frustrated, but cool) No, I am American. I have a United States passport.
Official #1: (Stares at me longer, looks at picture again, then looks back at me.) Are you sure you’re not Egyptian?
Webb: (ready to asplode) NO. I am American!
Official #1: (Looks at picture again, then looks back at me. Looks over to left to another official, waves him over, and says like 2 words to him in Arabic. Now quite sure he was saying “play along.”)
Official #2: (Glances at passport, looks up at my face to verify it matches. Looks at picture again, then looks back at me. Mutters something to Official #1.) Webb-buh-buh… (Looks at picture again, then looks back at me. Back down, back up) Are you Egyptian?
Webb: (Ready to punch a baby.) NO.
Official #2: (Looks at picture again, then looks back at me.) Was your father Egyptian?
Webb: (Steam leaking out of ears, face red) No. I am an American, with an American passport. Please, I need to catch my flight [that won’t leave for another 2 hours].
Official #1: (Looks at Official #2, says something in Arabc, then nods me off.) Ok, go.
Webb: (Still standing there for a few seconds) Um, can I have my passport before I leave?
Official #1: (Shocked that I remembered the single-most-important document I need in the world.) Oh yes, here it is. (Hands it to me.) Ok, go now.
Webb: (Practically running to the gate…)

Just an FYI, students and staff alike are already calling me “Webb-buh-buh”. This is how nicknames are developed. :)

Well, thank the Lord that I’m home, anyways. This trip to Egypt was fantastic, and I've got some incredible memories: riding my camel around the pyramid, eating koshari, exploring the temple of Karnak. But now, it's time for some vacation to this break!

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Shooting the Nile | Taking some time to chill

2005-12-27T22:20:00.000+03:00

CAIRO, EGYPT - Fishawy's Coffeehouse has been my #1 favorite chill-out spot in the entire country, and being here is something I'll never ever forget. Here's a couple highlights from a typical trip in.

===

Fishawy's: "One of the finest ahwas, and certainly the most famous, Fishawi's is still a great place to watch an exotic world go by. Despite frequently being swamped by foreign tourists and equally wide-eyed out-of-town Egyptians, it is a regular ahwa, serving up shai, coffee, and sheesha to all-comers." - Lonely Planet: Egypt

Sheesha: In a nutshell, the Arabic sheesha is a water pipe connected to tube where tobacco is passed through water before going into the person... or in plain English, a tobacco-bong. Although smoking a sheesha is equivalent to smoking 18 cigarrettes, it's still the quintessential thing for elderly/middle-aged Egyptian men to do in Cairo ahwas; burgers and Coca-Cola to the West is Turkish coffee and sheesha is the Middle Eastern.

Going into the nostrils, it's not as stuffy and smoky as the smell of normal nicotine. The maassel used in a sheesha is mostly flavoring -- "mixed with dried fruit, natural extracts and artificial flavorings to produce a varying assortment of tobacco flavors, such as apple, strawberry, mango, cappuccino, vanilla, coconut" (Wikipedia: Hookah). The aroma is simply amazing.

Ahwas: "The coffeehouse or ahwa (the Arabic word means both the coffee and the place in which it's drunk) is one of the great Egypt social institutions. Typically just a collection of cheap tin-plate-topped tables and wooden chairs in a sawdust-strewnmroom open to the street, the ahwa is a relaxed and unfussy place where the average Joe, or Ahmed, will hang out for part of the day reading the papers, meeting friends, sipping tea and whiling away the hours. The hubbub of conversation is usually accompanied by the incessant clacking of slammed domina (dominoes) and towla (backgammon) pieces, and the burbling of smokers drawing heavily on their sheeshas, the cumbersome water pipes. Traditionally ahwa-going has been something of an all-male preserve, and older men at that, but in recent years sheesha smoking has become almost fashionable. It's now common to see young, mixed-sex groups of Egyptians in ahwas, especially in Cairo and Alexandria." (Lonely Planet: Egypt)

===

Ok, so that's about it. Ahwas like Fishawy's are definately the place to be here, and especially being located in Khan el-Khalili, it makes the entire experience that much more amazing.

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Blogging the Nile | Adventures in Luxor

2005-12-25T20:20:00.000+03:00

LUXOR, EGYPT – To you, the thought of eating a Big Mac for Christmas dinner is horrifying. For me, it’s the most home-like thing I’ve done in almost 6 months

Apparently, there are three McDonalds in Egypt: Cairo, Hurghada, and Luxor, where just moments ago, I indulged in two chicken Big Macs, French fries, and a Coke. While it doesn’t hold a candle to turkey, mashed potatoes, rice and beans, and some pie, it’s a meal that puts me right back at the table with my family in Kansas. *sigh* Happy.

Three Observations

1. Traveling light. As I mentioned in my last post, I was planning on spending the next few days in Luxor, on the (southern) Upper Nile, so late Friday night, I took the subway to Orabi, and walked to the Turgoman bus station. I was carrying my entire suitcase/backpack, but had left most of my stuff at the Cairo guesthouse so I could travel a little lighter. This was going to be a quick jaunt ~~down~~ up the Nile, and I didn’t need any extra distractions.

My tour bus left Turgoman relatively on time, and I was off. I stared out the window, admiring the lights of the city for the first half hour, until we were officially out of Cairo. At this point, I was feeling some time with iGor and perhaps some good sleep. However, the Upper Nile Bus Company had another idea. As I was preparing myself for some rest, the driver popped in some Arabic movie (at full volume), thwarting my plan. Don’t worry, I eventually got some sleep (18 minutes) over the 8-hour trip. But the good news is that as soon as I pulled into Luxor, it was already time to start exploring!

2. Day 1: Museums, Temples, and Bikes. Once I was moved into the Sherif Hostel, I inquired the front desk about a good place nearby to rent bikes (a common way to get around this relatively small town) and was happy to learn that the hostel itself could rent me a bike. I grabbed my old, blue, almost rusty ride (with a kickin’ basket on the front) and took off to explore 3 sights for the day: the Museum of Luxor, Karnak Temple, and Luxor Temple.

I rode down Corniche el-Nill to the museum, which was a big highlight of my excursion to Luxor. The Egyptian Museum in Cairo, while big and containing everything, is busy, confusing, and truly, just ugly. Its polar opposite is the Luxor Musem: clean, quiet, dark (but dynamically lit), smaller, and just stunning. Some of the gorgeous artifacts included an alabaster Amenhotep III, statues from the Karnak and Luxor temples, and two mummified people (presumed to be pharaohs, but super-frightening).

Next came yet another highlight of the trip –Karnak. How does one describe a place like this? Lonely Planet says it is “a spectacular complex of sanctuaries, kiosks, pylons, and obelisks… the site measures about 1.5km by 800m [almost 300 acres], large enough to contain about 10 cathedrals… was called Ipet-Isut, meaning ‘The Most Perfect of Places.’” However, I’m a bigger fan of what writer Amelia Edwards said about it:

It is a place that as been much written about and often painted; but of which no writing and no art can convey more than dwarfed and pallid impression… The scale is too vast; the effect too tremendous; the sense of one’s own dumbness and littleness and incapacity, too complete and crushing.

Inside is the huge temple complex, Amun Temple, whose centerpiece is the Great Hypostyle Hall. How do you describe an area like this? It’s a 300-foot long forest of 134 75-foot tall columns. You’re completely dwarfed, as you are next to Hatshepsut’s equally as dominant obelisks. Passing though the eight pylons (or layers of the temple) gives you a glimpse of sacred parts of ancient Egyptian life.

After spending a few hours wandering around that area, I hopped on the bike to go grab some lunch and hopefully hit the temple of Luxor. However, my bike had different plans. Short version: the chain that connects the pedal to wheel was actually stretched (or had the bike shrunk) so much that I couldn’t pedal once without the whole thing falling apart. A few friendly Egyptians came over to help me fix it, and after some prying with the metal on their part (and baksheesh on mine), I made it safely back to my hostel… almost. Again, the chain came off a few miles down the road. This time, I’d had enough. I pulled over to another bike place to exchange my piece’o’crap, hopped on the new one, and buzzed back towards Luxor temple.

While it’s not as grand as the Karnak, the temple of Luxor was cool because it’s located right next to the Nile. My Lonely Planet: Egypt book suggested to visit in the day, but to return when the sun was setting, since the temple is lit up and the walls are subjected to shadow games from the reliefs.

Since I had my bike-issues, I missed out on the day portion, but I did get there just as the sun was setting. I investigated the line of sphinxes leading to the temple, shot pictures of Ramses II’s head, and admired the one remaining obelisk in front of the temple. (Little did I know at the time, but I’d just seen this obelisk’s brother in June when I visited the Place de la Concorde in Paris!) After some more exploring, I grabbed the bike, rode back to the hostel, and got a relatively early night of sleep.

3. Day 2: Christmas in Luxor. I like Christmas. It’s a beautiful time of the year, when family and friends are extra-important, and had I been at MAA, the day might have been a bit rough. However, being that I was where I was, I took it as an opportunity to explore the Nile’s East Bank with iGor set to Christmas music only. Take that, Scrooge Hasan al-Grinch.

The first site I got to explore was definitely the coolest: the Valley of the Kings. Carved out of steep cliffs, the 62 tombs were located here by the royals because of their isolation, easiness to guard, and direction from Thebes/Luxor (to the west, the direction of the setting sun, which symbolized afterlife). A 40LE ticket gets you into any 3 tombs… except Tutankhamun, whose final resting place costs an additional 100 LE to visit. My three picks were Ramses I (beautiful blue-painted inside, with a gigantic pink-granite sarcophagus), Ramses IV (known about since 278 BC, but just recently opened to the public), and Tuthmosis IV (built in the hills – can only enter by climbing a staircase, going over a ravine, and delving deep inside the rock).

Next was Deir al-Bahri, the temple of Hatshepsut. Lonely Planet: Egypt’s description of it is dead-on: “Rising out of the desert, in a series of terraces, the Temple of Hatshepsut merges with the sheer limestone cliffs of the eastern face of the Theban mountain as is Nature herself had built this extraordinary monument. The partly rock-cut, partly freestanding structure is one of the finest monuments in ancient Egypt…” This was one of the top 3 monuments I wanted to see before I left Kenya (Pyramids of Giza and Abu Simbel were also on the list), and standing in front of it was just mind-boggling.

The last place of exploration for the day should have been the first. The Colossi of Memnon are two 18-meter tall giants who unceasingly guard the Valley of the Kings. For years, as Ra would rise into the sky, he would heat the dew that had attached itself to the statue in the night, breaking off sand inside the effigy. The sound of the sand would actually be an audible, low, haunting noise, so it was said that the Colossi were “singing” in the morning. Because of a unnecessary “repair” made to the statues, they don’t hum anymore, but they’re still an amazing and beautiful sight.

Arriving back in Luxor, I got some lunch, walked around the town (looking for nothing in particular), talked to my family at an internet café, came back to the hostel, packed, and eventually ate supper, as stated, in McD’s. Now I’m just awaiting my train leaving in a few hours here and I’m off, back to Cairo!

Ok, I think that’s about it. Miss you, miss home, miss Maxwell! Later!

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Shooting the Nile | Satellite-view of yesterday

2005-12-23T13:57:00.000+03:00

CAIRO, EGYPT - Ok, in a nutshell, this is what yesterday's trip to the Pyramids of Giza looked like. Hopefully this will give a more graphical look at what the entire place looks like. Later!

Click on the image for a more zoomed-in version

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Blogging the Nile | Coptic Cairo, Walking, and Luxor

2005-12-23T13:32:00.000+03:00

CAIRO, EGYPT – Relatively “weak” day…

Three Observations:

1. Coptic Cairo. So today I headed down to the Coptic area of the city. Coptic Christianity is the oldest “branch” or “sect” of the Christian church, and much of it developed right here in Egypt. The Old Cairo area is just to the south of Heliopolis, where I’m staying right now, so I had to take the subway (like always) from Saray el Kobba to Mar Girgis so I could explore this interesting little area of town.

As soon as I stepped into the area that has more than 20 churches in less than a square kilometer, I noticed how white the area looked – like, its tourists. Since August, I’ve been surrounded by every race except Caucasians, and now, seeing this area (so reminiscent of home) was almost embarrassing. Do I look like that? No way…

Otherwise, the area was beautiful. Narrow cobblestone alley-like streets, bunches of cute little churches, mosques, convents, monasteries, and synagogues, friendly and simpler Egyptians: this was a beautiful area. There’s lots of history, too, including the oldest synagogue in Egypt, a Greek Orthodox church where visitors wrap themselves in a chain for good luck, and even the Church of St. Sergius, where Jesus’s family apparently stayed when fleeing from King Herod in Judah. All in all, it was a cute little place to visit.

2. Exploring by foot. After inhaling a quick lunch of koshari in a neighborhood restaurant and taking the metro back up to Midian Tahrir (metro stop for the Egyptian museum and, in all honesty, the center of Cairo), I walked about a mile down to the area that Midian Ataba was before deciding that I wanted to try walking down to the Citadel, the famous old fort of Cairo. I had good shoes on, and nothing else to do, so why not give it a shot?

After walking another mile and a half down awkward little streets, I’d changed my mind. Walking that far wasn’t a problem, but right when I was starting to feel like I should be at the Citadel, I noticed that I was approaching the back end of it. I wasn’t going to be getting there anytime soon, and apparently, the building was to close early for the day anyways, so I grabbed some orange juice from a nearby juice stand and hailed a taxi (for very cheap) back up to Heliopolis, where I could relax and get some rest. Like I said, it wasn’t a super-interesting day, but I wanted to get some rest before leaving to Luxor tonight… oh, I didn’t tell you?

3. I’m going to Luxor tonight! Here in a little while, I’m taking a 10pm bus down to the Nile-side city of Luxor, where I plan on seeing some temples, some museums, and hopefully, some Valley of the Kings tombs!

When I get down there, I’ll have a hostel to leave my stuff in, but since it’ll be 8am, it’ll be high-time to do some touring. Wish me luck!

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Blogging the Nile | Pyramids and Camels, Sphinxes and Pizza Huts, and kushari

2005-12-22T23:38:00.000+03:00

CAIRO, EGYPT – So the pyramids are kickin’. That’s the best way to put it: kickin’.

Three Observations

Seeing the Big 3. Today was the big day, the entire reason (almost) for visiting Egypt, the single most recognizable image associated with this country, and the only remaining member of the 7 Wonders of the (ancient) World: the Pyramids of Giza. From the moment I woke up, I bustled around, hurrying so we could get to our goal of the day as quick as possible.

After a walk to Saray el Kobba, a crowded 8:30am “rush hour” subway trip to Giza, and a 15 LE taxi trip to Pyramid Road, there we were, in front of the giants. You know, when I was in Europe this summer, there were so many incredible things I saw, but the greatest were the “freaking spots”: places that were so magnificent, I prefixed them with the word “freaking.” I saw the “freaking Eiffel Tower”, the “freaking Coliseum,” the “freaking Leaning Tower of Pisa”, and one of my favorites, “freaking Venice.” However, the “freaking Pyramids” are an image that’s forever burned in my mind, a step above “freaking.” In pictures, they’re simply large three-dimensional triangles in the middle of the desert, but in person, they take your breath away.

I stepped out of the taxi and just marveled in solitude at the big guys for a few seconds. Now I’m in Egypt. Wow. That solitude was short, though, as immediately, Lauran and I were harassed by a man in a shop to take a 160 LE camel-ride around the site. I wasn’t too certain at first, but the thought worked inside my head. Wait, ride a camel around the Great Pyramids? What could be more quintessential Egyptian? Within 10 minutes, I had the price worked down to 80 LE, including the 40 LE site entrance fee.

I hopped on my dromedary (incredibly uncomfortable – waaaaay wider than a horse. Little do I know that in a few hours, I’ll be begging for an icepack to soothe my aching groin) and began the trip. We rode around the side of the Pyramids, eventually climbing a steep sand dune (The camel had no problem – I almost fell off, face planted, and ate sand.)

Then, we were there; I was standing face to face with them. The tallest man-made object in the world for a few thousand years (until that Eiffel Tower came around – damn French, screwin’ up everything…), they simply tower above you in a way the mind can’t even comprehend. You can drop all the numbers you want – 480 feet tall, almost 500 feet per side, over two million blocks with an average weight of 2.5 tons (although some are 15 tons), 6 million ton total weight – but it won’t make a difference. They’re just big.

We got off the camel to explore the inside of Khafre (more on this later), hopped back on to look at Menkaure (the smallest of the big 3) and ride past the miniature Queen’s Pyramids, and went into camel 1st-gear up the incline of a hill a few hundred yards away. There we got off and took the priceless pictures we’ll show off first when we get home. *sigh* Amazing. You look one way, and you see the pyramids, just staring right back at you. Turn slightly to the right, and you’ll clearly see the smog, brick, and steel that is Cairo. Turn around, and there’s nothing but miles and miles of Lawrence of Arabia sand. The scene was simply stunning, and one day, I hope to be a good enough writer to adequately describe the panorama to you.

After the quick stop, we came back towards the entrance, stopping to grab some sand for the “fans” back at Maxwell. We got haggled by the man giving us the tour for another 20 or 30 LE, and while I was irritated he was pulling this little stunt, My satisfaction of what I’d just seen won, and I gave in. We got back to the camel place, thanked our guides, and breathed a sigh of relief. Riding around the Great Pyramids of Giza on a camel… check.

Exploring. One of the coolest things I wanted to try out was actually going inside one of the mammoths, and while Khufu, the largest, seemed like the logical choice, I was conviced by our camel-leaders that it was a waste of money. “For 1/4th the price, you can go to Khafre and see the exact same thing.” Hey, don’t have to tell me twice!

We paid, got into a stuffy, slow moving line, waited in the Egyptian sun Ra for far too long, and finally stepped up to the entrance of the pyramid. It was an incredibly long ramp, maybe 100 yards, and down, at a 30 degree angle. The height of the tunnel couldn’t have been more than 5 feet, and it was just wide enough for one person to pass (even though it was a two-way street). After squat-walking for a while, I made it to the halfway point – a small, flat chamber with an up-ramp on the other end. I wiped my brow, squatted down, and went another 100 yards up this time, finally ending up in the tomb chamber. All that’s left is a polished black marble sarcophogous that used to hold Mr. Khafre himself, but now lies empty. The room was dimly lit, realatively cool (compared to the paths I’d just walked), and spacious. While there wasn’t a lot to look at, I took the breather and considered I’m in a pyramid! Looking at tombs!

Squat-walking the entire way down and up again, I felt my stomach starting to grumble. I wanted to grab a little something to much on, but there was more to do. We found our guide and camel again, finished our tour, and headed next for the Great Sphinx, a pretty big disappointment. Yes, it’s probably the 2nd more recognizable icon in Egypt, but you couldn’t get closer than 500 feet to it, couldn’t tour or touch it, and really could only stand and get your picture with it. Weeeeeeeeak.

For that reason, lunch was my #2 coolest moment of the day; finally, after months of not touching American food or an American brand, I got to eat Pizza Hut (some little BBQ Chicken Rolls – do we have those at home? Yummy…) and KFC brand fries at the restaurant across from complex. Just right outside my window, the way you’d look at the highway or an office building, I was looking at a Wonder of the World. Awesome.

Maxwell’s music program is wonderful. After we returned to Cairo, we took some time to walk around the Ataba market before returning home (with a quick detour for some much-needed internet). On the way back, we stopped at a little side-store that sold kushari, my new favorite food in the world. Basically, it’s just noodles, rice, lentils, tomato sauce, and some fried onions on top. Then they toss it into a baggie or plastic container, and away you go! It’s pretty much the most incredible food ever. Plus for 2 or 3 LE (like 50 cents) for a bowl that I can barely finish in one sitting, it’s the perfect combination ever: cheap and delicious!

From there, we swung by the guesthouse to chow on the kushari, and then came back outside, next door, to the Seventh-day Adventist Church of Cairo to watch Nile Union Academy’s Christmas program. In a nutshell, it sucked pretty bad, and I was appreciative that Enterprise and Maxwell were both schools with relatively strong music programs, unlike NVA. Whew, can someone, anyone, hit a C? No little girl, that was a B flat. No little boy, that was a… what was that? Like an R?

Ok, so that’s all for now. Pretty tired and stuffed from my amazing supper. Talk to you guys later, miss you all!

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Shooting the Nile | The Big 3

2005-12-22T18:23:00.000+03:00

Pyramids
Originally uploaded by webby37.

CAIRO, EGYPT - What an incredible day... Yea, this shot was Photoshopped a bit (B/W, widescreen bars, texture-clouds in the back, and some wind on the sand), it was a genuine CW shot. Beautiful, if I may say so myself. :)

From left to right: Menkaure (the smallest, with its 3 "baby pyramids," the Mastaba Tombs, in front of it), Khafre (looks bigger, but it's 2nd - it's closer at my angle and on a hill), and Khufu.

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Blogging the Nile | Tombs, Alexandria, and Sick?

2005-12-21T23:19:00.000+03:00

CAIRO, EGYPT – Alexandria’s cool, but totally overrated.

Three Observations

1. A warm dungeon makes me think of fresh bodies. Lauran and I decided yesterday that today would be the day to really travel again (since we were getting too comfy in Cairo), so the plan for today was to try out the Mediterranean city of Alexandria. After waking up at 5am and being in Ramses Station by 6:30, we waited an hour-and-a-half for a cheap Turbini train to take us up north. About 2 hours passed, and I was already smelling sea-scented air. Ah, Alexandria…

Now there really isn’t a lot to do up in this town, but the one thing I was really looking forward to was visiting the Catacombs of Kom ash-Shuqqafa, with its “creepy tombs straight out of a horror-film set” (Lonely Planet). So once we got out of the train, we started walking south towards the catacombs, passing some Coptic neighborhoods and cute little side-streets. We finally hit the gate of the tomb, and after paying, I delved into the dark abyss.

It all started out with a spiral staircase that began at ground level but ended more than 100 feet in the ground. With every step, it got darker and cooler, until finally I was standing in a dimly lit stone room, shadows creeping all around me and warning of mummies and monsters awaiting behind walls. To my left was the triclinium, or the “cafeteria” where mourners would pay their last respects to their deceased with a banquet. To my right, a horrifying little tomb with locules (pigeonhole-like shelves for the bodies to lay… *gulp*). Straight ahead, a descending staircase leading into the torch-lit antechamber tomb, guarded by two monstrous stone statues.

Did I mention that I’m completely alone down here?

I hesitantly crept down the stairs, eyes darting side to side in expectance for the mummy that was undoubtedly about to jump out from a corner and… well, do whatever mummies do to humans. (Come to think of it, why are mummies scary? They’re not like a vampire, with fangs and that blood-thing they have, and they’re not like a werewolf or something that can like eat you. So why am I scared? Hmmmm, I’ll consider that… later. Right now, I’m so anxious, if I was to hear a mosquito buzz by, I’d probably urinate my pants.) To my sides were small, uncomfortably warm rooms with 20 open locules (no bodies, thank the Lord). In front of me, the statues (combination Egyptian, Greek, and Roman iconography) guarding the final locule room were illuminated by two fire torches. Indiana Jones wasn’t there, but it looked like he should have been.

When I’d had enough of exploring that area (so, like, after .00000000457 seconds), I came back into the main room to check out that side room that had frightened me before. Again, warm like a fresh body, with open locules peering at me through the darkness, but this time there was no light to guide my way. At all. I passed through the room and entered the Hall of Caracalla (how the heck did they make the ceilings so high?). It was apparently an entirely different funerary complex with its own tombs, bodies, and locules. Ok, I’d seen enough.

I scurried back through the previous room, up the spiral staircase, and breathed a sigh of relief to see sunlight again. Of all the places I’ve ever been, that was the most horrifying… and it was so much fun. I considered going back in for another quick peek, but decided against it at the last minute. There was still more to do around town.

2. More exploring. After escaping that horror-movie set, Lauran and I hopped in a cab and headed up towards the Mosque of Abu Abbas al-Mursi, and with a little coaxing, I managed to get Lauran to go inside. He’s done the whole mosque thing before, but I’d never been inside, so I was excited that my first time was in this gorgeous building. To be let in, I had to take off my shoes and leave them with a man at the door, but inside it was worth it. It was simply a large spacious carpeted room with columns to supports its gigantic ceiling. Everywhere you looked there were Muslim men, carrying their prayer carpets and reverently praying towards Mecca. It was a beautiful and calming sight for something that, really, our culture condemns as an evil sect.

From there we walked up along the coast to Fort Quaitbey, the huge stone building built on the remains of the Pharaohs Lighthouse, one of the original 7 Wonders of the World. Inside I walked around, was taken on a tour by a non-english-speaking-at-all guard. Did I understand anything? No way. But it was still nice to be walked around and talked to by someone.

By this time, it was getting to be late, and our stomachs were grumbling. No lunch yet! We walked back towards the city to find a phantom fish market, but no such luck, so we settled on some pizza in a little restaurant on the coast. Pretty cool, and a good way to close out our time in Alexandria. From here, we just walked back towards the train station, boarded the 6pm to Cairo, and took the subway home, back to Saray el Kobba.

3. Feeling gross. Lauran was feeling really hungry again, since we’d only eaten once, and he was also craving an internet café fix. His plan was to hop off the metro, grab some grub, and go look for a connection somewhere.

I, however, wasn’t feeling so enthusiastic. I was feeling a little tired and starting to have some soreness in the throat. Am I getting sick? NO NO NO! Please no! In an effort to nip it in the bud, I decided to skip out on the day’s final two activities and just come back to the apartment for some extra sleep. I headed on direction, he headed the other, and I arrived at our place for some extra rest. After a super-long and relaxing shower (and another wrestling bout with the washing machine), I laid down and wrote for a while. Now, as the clock is ticking closer to 11:00p, I’m feeling my eyes closing more and more…

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Shooting the Nile | "Alex"

2005-12-21T19:16:00.000+03:00

ON A SOUTHBOUND TRAIN BETWEEN ALEXANDRIA AND CAIRO – A quick peek at some of the stuff I saw today...

The big boy - Fort Quaitbey...

...and me right in front of it

A gorgeous mural I just saw walking around. This city's quite a bit cleaner than Cairo, but still, not as entertaining.

Taking a quick break on the Meditteranean Sea.

And a slightly Photoshopped shot of a cute little boat hanging out on the shore.

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Blogging the Nile | Museum, Dining, and Laundry

2005-12-20T22:58:00.000+03:00

CAIRO,

EGYPT

– Museums are cool. Cameras are cool. Cameras in museums are cool. In this way, Egypt is not cool. Get the drift?

Three Observations from today:

1. Exploring the past. We got up relatively early, got ready, and headed out of the guesthouse by 9am this morning. Then, instead of paying $40 for George to drive us to the museum, we paid 75pt (less than 1 LE) to ride the subway down to within a block from the museum. HAHA GEORGE!

Anyways, we swung in and began looking around. From the incredible Narmer Palette to the huge statue of Pharaoh Djoser, his wife, and two children, everything was simply mind-boggling, and that was just in the atrium! As I’d went through gift shops and different places across the city, I’d noticed pictures of famous artifacts from the museum, and now, all of a sudden, I see them: the Seated Scribe, Seneb, Tuthmosis III and Hatshepsut’s shrine. All of these things were all about people who I remember learning about in history classes, in books I’d read, in movies I’d seen. All of a sudden, so real.

Upstairs of the museum was even cooler, with rooms and rooms of pharaonic jewelry, masks, chariots, and the infamous blue faience hippopotamus that seems to be the city’s mascot. But the trip peaked at the Tutankhamun galleries, with his tombs, statues, wigs, canopic jars, clothing, and of course, the contents of room 3: the infamous death mask (11kg) and two golden sarcophagi (110kg). Just incredible. This is why you come to Egypt.

The only annoying thing was what I just near-mentioned: the picture policy (or lack of one). Lonely Planet and Rough Guides said that all indoor museums, tombs, and sights would only allow picture-taking for a fee of 5 LE. Worth it to take shots, I'd say, so I'd planned on getting a "picture permit" and the museum. But nay, that policy had just been overturned by the Minister of Tourism. Turns out the flash destroys the paint, the wood, the stone (that had been strong enough to survive thousands of years of weathering, but not a flash?). So a ban was put in place. *sigh* Ah well, everything was still amazing enough without the shots.

2. Hungry hungry hippos! After we explored for a couple of hours, Lauran and I made our way out of the museum and over to the Cairo Hilton (Paris’s Muslim cousin?) to eat at an incredibly nice (and expensive) restaurant, Da Mario’s. I justified the cost by convincing myself I hadn’t eaten at such a quality establishment in close to a year, and that spending $20 on a meal would be justifiable since with the cost of food we’d normally been eating.

The best on the buffet? The pasta with the incredible mutton steaks. Sweet mercy… and desert? Let’s just say we spent 2 hours at the place for a reason. We ate, we just hung out, snacked a bit, came back for more servings, rested some more and did desert. Price per plate made the extra expense VERY valid!

3. Rest of the day… Pretty easy, to say the least. Lauran and I took a river taxi up and down the Nile, my first time on the famous river. After some of that and some walking around downtown, we hopped on the subway and got off at our stop, Saray el Kobba. We headed back to the guesthouse, spending some time at an internet café near Midian Roxy. I found out that the Chiefs had lost, killing my Christmas. But hey, all was well; lots of people had written me! Cool!

It was relatively early when we got back, but after so much walking around, we were pretty pooped. I wrestled with the laundry machine for a while, figuring out how to make my clothes fresh and clean. Awesome.

Ok, better hit the sack soon here. Tomorrow we have to be up and awake early to head out to Alexandria! We’re taking a train up to the Mediterranean city to check out what’s up there. Wish us ok sleep!

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Blogging the Nile | Bedouin, the Hike, and the last of the rip-offs

2005-12-19T22:20:00.000+03:00

CAIRO, EGYPT – After three days of different hotels, finally, it’s nice to have settled somewhere.

Three straight days of non-stop traveling – Nairobi, Addis Ababa, Khartoum, Cairo, Mt. Sinai, Cairo again – and all I wanna do is pass out. Already. Again, only three days. But in those three days, I’ve climbed Mt. Sinai, shopped in Khan el-Khalili, taught myself Arabic numbers, and had 6 falafels. It’s been a great trip already, and I’ve only just begun.

But I’m so tired right now, just keeping my eyes open has been the most challenging adventure…

Three Observations:

1. The Bedouin were laughing. After waking up at 6am to take a six-hour drive to the town of St. Katherine, we moved into our $35/night hotel room. My original plan was to rent mattresses and blankets on top of Sinai and camp out overnight so I could get the blessing of sunset and sunrise, but the powers that be declared that “loco.” So I dumped my backpack in the El-Awry hotel, room 86, and headed off to the van where driver George was taking us to the monastery, located right at the foot of Mt. Sinai.

The monastery, a 14^th century haven that still houses monks to this day, houses a couple of pretty famous relics, including the supposed well where Moses met Zipporah and the infamous burning bush. (Well, that’s not exactly true. First off, the bush is a type that doesn’t exist anywhere else on the continent; it’s been transplanted from its past location. It’s not really a bush as much as it is a tree. And most importantly, it’s not actually the bush. It’s a relative… a “direct relative,” but still a relative. Sorry.) But the understood reason for traveling to this barren, isolated corner of the world is to climb the mountain where Moses/Charlton Heston saw God and received His 10 Commandments. That’s the real reason you check it out. That’s the real reason we coughed up $80 to drive down with George and check out what was up. Call it the “Christian pilgrimage,” if you’d like.

Right after lunch, we began the trek up the mountain. George drove us to the gate of St. Katherine’s where Solomon, our 24-year-old Ludacris-look-alike Bedouin guide met us. His job was to look at us like we were freaks, “lead” us up the obviously laid-out path that Stevie Wonder could have made up by himself, and collect our 50 LE. Later, when we found out that Geroge had duped us and we weren’t required to pay for a guide at all, we gritted our teeth and went on in life, but at the time, he was a great friend made. A great friend… that you have to pay to have.

We worked for probably a half kilometer when Claude, the 50-something year-old man who rode down with us, asked (earnestly): “Hey, are we there yet?” Solomon responded with a ~~giggle~~ ~~chuckle~~ belly-laugh that we hadn’t even started. This is the way of the Bedouin; renowned for his simpleness, natural knowledge, survival skills, and cutting sarcasm.

Before reaching the mountain itself, however, Solomon took us by a few of his Bedouin friends/business associates, whose job was to convice touirists like us that riding a camel would make our lives simpler in 2 ways. 1) We wouldn’t have to walk, and 2) our wallets would be 60 LE lighter. All of us declined, insisting we could hike the 3 miles straight-up the mount, see the sunset, and skip back down under our own power.

8.6 minutes later, Lauran and Bonnie (Claude’s wife) had hopped on their own dromedaries. Cha-ching!

2. “And its only just begun…” With the camels leading the charge up the hill and Solomon coaxing Claude to keep walking, iGor (my iPod) and I turned on the jets, climbing the steep incline of Sinai at a strong pace. At the top of the “first section,” I’d hiked straight up for 2 hours. No problem.

Here, however, is where the mountain gets really exciting. At this point, camels can’t (or aren’t allowed to) go any further. All five of us had to walk up 750 steps, on our own feet, to get to the apex. Again, iGor carried me through, and although I had to battle exhaustion, the occasional

taste of vomit in my mouth, and a mild but quietly threatening case of double leg cramps, I hit the top. And boy, was it worth it.

Laid out before me were the choppy brown mountains of Sinai. Barren and treeless, they weren’t much to look at, but with the Egyptian sun, Ra, ready to call it a day, they were lit up into light browns, burnt siennas, and reds, perfect with the bright blue, orange, and pink sky. At the top, along with the breathtaking scenery, was the most picturesque, photogenic church, illuminated by the few shards of daylight that were still peeking over the western ridge. It was definitely a sight I’ll never forget in my life.

Aside from narrow steps to walk down in the dark, the pitch-black sky/no moon combination that didn’t even try to light our path, twisting my ankle, Bonnie’s slide-into-home on the scree, the 2 rearrangements of my ankle, and the overall risk of tripping and rolling the entire way down on my face, the hike down wasn’t too bad. While I desired to be back in the hotel room (which sounded a lot better now then it had then), I kept thinking back to how I’d just stood where Moses had met God, and I felt like I could go on strong. After what seemed like hours of hiking down, we made it back to the van where George was waiting, ready to take us back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep earned.

3. Drove me crazy! It cost us $80 to travel to Sinai. That’s approximately 920 LE round-trip. Split four-ways: 230 LE. A relatively ok, easy to swallow price.

According to the Lonely Planet and Rough Guides guidebooks, the trip on the luxury East Delta Company bus line would cost 54 LE. Round trip.

Needless to say, I was a bit frustrated. We were picked up at the airport by George for 80 LE, when a normal cab would have charged us 30 LE on the high end. We asked how much it’d cost for George to take us to the Egyptian Museum the next day, and he told us 100 LE. Normal taxi fare from the furthest end of town to the other runs upward of 25 LE. Getting the picture?

For obvious financial reasons (and the fact that the night we got back from Sinai we successfully used 2 taxis), we’ve decided to ditch George and use public transportation. Horay! Let the cheap life begin!

And just cuz I’m in a giddy mood...

4. BONUS OBSERVATION: “How bazaar, how bazaar…” When we got back to Cairo, it was only just 4 or 5pm, and really, night life in Cairo begins at like 8. In other words, the night was entirely too young, and while I was exhausted from the previous day’s activities, I wanted to take advantage of where I was. So I was pumped to get Lauran out of the guesthouse and into a taxi (40 LE round trip, but split between both of us) so we could visit the tourist hot-spot, Khan el-Khalili. Basically, it’s just a huuuuuge bazaar where every unnecessary souvenir is sold.

When I was in Italy, I made a point of getting an Italian soccer jersey, not because I play soccer or wear soccer jerseys, but because everyone else does. I’ve yet to get my Kenya shirt, but I did make a goal of getting a high-quality Egyptian National Team jersey at a relatively ok price. My big mistake was not shopping around, though, when it came down to the small stone pyramids I eyed and admired. I picked up 2 sets for 100 LE, then later found out I could get 2 just like it for 40 LE! Danget! Ah well, really, that’s just a difference in a couple dollars, and the experience made it worth it.

On our way out, we got haggled by a guy who carved plates out of alloy metals, and even though I didn’t want to buy anything, his presentation was simply incredible, so I went ahead and tossed him 32 LE for a plate I’d watched him carve. Pretty cool memory, I’d say. We hailed our taxi, hopped in, and made it safely back to the guesthouse.

Ok, well now I’m exhausted. Gonna get some rest now. Talk to you later!

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Blogging the Nile | iBonding, the big rip-off, and Arabic numbers

2005-12-17T19:53:00.000+03:00

CAIRO, EGYPT (FINALLY!) – Volleyball in Egypt is loud!

It’s only 7pm, but after an entire day of travling, it feel like a quarter till one. We were to be picked up from the hotel at 6:30a to resume our travel to Cairo, so at quarter after 7, Ethiopian Airlines picked us up to chauffer us to the airport. I love Africa time.

About the only cool part of this morning was meeting Kasim, a Kenyan who’d stayed the night in the Jerusalem Hotel with us. He was on his way to Sudan to extract land mines for the United Nations.

“Most are pressure sensitive, so when you step on the, they explode. But some have a trip wire that’ll detonate the device when you walk near it. Some pop out of the ground and explode in the air, which cases much more damage. And some are timed bombs – they’ll explode automatically, when they’re ready.”

Have a great breakfast!

Now, after the highs of listening to stories of land mines and the lows of trying to get out of the plane just to use the restroom, I’ve made it to the Adventist guesthouse, a half a block away from Midian Roxy in Roxy, Cairo, Egypt. The smell of rain that’d fallen earlier in the day mixes with the permanent smell of Cairene fog. The sound of volleyball, being played at the recreation center directly under us, barges through the window. A crowd is shouting instructions, cheers, and support in a language I’ve never heard before. Cool.

Three observations:

1. “Where culture separates, iPod unites.” It sounds cheesy, but when I go back home, I’m submitting it to Apple as a possible advertising campaign.

I’m a poor American student-missionary traveling to Egypt for the holiday. She was a 30-something Egyptian woman, probably returning home from a business trip in Kenya. I’m Christian; she’s probably Muslim. She most likely speaks Arabic, English, and a plethora of other languages. I only speak English (but speak it very well, I must add). We had nothing in common. There was no reason for us to notice each other at all. So what’s the reason for our eyes meeting?

White earbuds.

On the flight from Addis Ababa to Cairo (with a quick “don’t-even-get-out-of-the-plane” stopover in Khartoum, Sudan), I met up with 3 other iPod users, jamming on their tunes. While that’s not a huge deal in the States, meeting so many other members of the white headphones club was a nice taste of home.

2. “How do you say ‘We’re getting ripped off’ in Arabic?” When we made it into Cairo, Ranya, our Egypt contact, had a driver named George waiting for us to bring us to the guesthouse from the airport. George is a private van driver who Ranya worked out a connecting with to take us around Egypt. His brother, Michael, is a travel agent, “volunteering” his services in helping me plan the trip. We were to meet Michael at the guesthouse, so we hopped in the van, made our way through northern Cairo, and finally arrived at the destination of Midian Roxy.

Long story short, even though Michael isn’t charging us for his tour information (which by the way, I feel like an expert on), he does want us to travel everywhere with George. He says it’s a more reliable, safe way to travel, but I think it’s just a more expensive one. For example, a bus ticket to Hurghada, diving capital of the Red Sea, costs 55 LE (about $10) in every guidebook I’ve seen. However, George wants to charge $100! As our conversation went on, I got the feeling that Michael’s “helping us out” was really just “screwing us over.”

So I do believe that Lauran and I are going to actually not use George very much. The one time we may, though, will only be a tad bit more expensive than usual because it’ll be split four-ways, not just two. We met up with an “eccentric” Southern, couple from Frankfurt, Indiana, the Gregory’s. They were wanting to go down to Mt. Sinai, as well, and being that George was going to charge $80 for the van down there, it became much easier to swallow at only 1/4^th price instead of full. We compared schedules, talked it over, and made arrangements to hike the historical mountain the very next day!

3. Getting’ the grub. Being that we hadn’t eaten since our flight in, we decided to make our way into the main Roxy shopping area and get something to munch on. After stopping at a money-changing place to go from dollars to Egyptian pounds (LE), we began the search. It was at this moment I first realized I was in a foreign country.

Looking through my previous blog posts, I never once mentioned Egypt being an Arabic country. I knew this, of course, but simply hadn’t thought about it. Not only were all the signs, menus, and words in another language, but for the first time in my life, so were the numbers! I had to get used to these things now.

Luckily, we delayed the inevitable when we found, incredibly enough, a Kentucky Fried Chicken with English numbers and a picture-menu. Safe! With the English numbers, we knew we could live one more day safely, and now, we’d have the strength to at least attempt the Arabic numbers. After eating, we swung by another fast-food place that specialized in falafels and other on-the-go food. Somehow we communicated that we wanted 4 falafels each, and after waiting a few moments (and just throwing a 50 LE note at the guy since I didn’t know what he was asking for), we realized that the 4 big pita-sandwiches cost 2.5 LE (like 50 cents). I think I’m gonna like this place.

We also ran into a grocery store and managed to buy bottled water for the next day’s trip, even though it was encoded in the foreign language. I also bought some soft-cheese and hot dog buns to snack on for breakfast. Price: 16.3 LE. $2.50. Nice.

Ok, I think I’m out now. We leave for Mt. Sinai tomorrow at 6am! Later!

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Blogging the Nile | Illegal Alien, Sleeping in Addis, and Arabic

2005-12-16T21:55:00.000+03:00

ADDIS ABABA, ETHIOPIA – Finally, the trip has begun.

As I lie here in my poor-excuse for a bed in my poor-excuse for a hotel room, listening to the poor-excuse for arabas drive up and down the street, I can’t help but smile. Three hours ago, I was in an airplane over Kenya. Five hours ago, in Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi. Eight hours ago, I sat in the VerSteegs living room at Maxwell, nervous and excited about my flights and beginning my journey.

Even more – one year ago, and I’m at home, enjoying another simple Christmas break in Junction City, Kansas. Fast forward a year, and I’m in Hotel Jerusalem, Addis Ababa, because Ethiopian Airlines felt guilty about me waiting 12 hours for my next flight. Cool.

Three early observations:

1. HAHA, YOU WERE AN ILLEGAL ALIEN! It’s a point in faculty worship to brag about your political status – or lack of status – in Kenya. Most of the staff are residents or resident aliens; some are still living off their visas. Some have visas that have run out (and their resident cards haven’t came in) so they’re simply living “illegally” in the country. It’s generally understood that, if you are in this situation, that you are to STAY WHERE YOU ARE. A quick jaunt to another country, even for a few days over the holidays, can leave you unable to return home. For this reason, Honey, who (like Elvin and I) is yet to get her work permit had to stay in at MAA instead of going home to the Philippines for Christmas break. While I was truly sorry she couldn’t go home, I made a point of rubbing her non-existent Kenyan status in her face.

So you can imagine my surprise after checking into Ethiopian Airlines flight 492 that my visa, still good for another 2 months, only allowed me to be in Kenya for 3 months in a row. Furthermore, rather than declare I was going to be staying for the maximum time, I’d somehow stupidly told them “one month.”

I’d been an illegal alien in Kenya for over 3 months.

Lucky for me, however, an angel was in charge of immigration at NBO today. After a halfway-teasing schooling from he government worker (usually comparable to blood-thirsty pit bulls), I was stamped with a 3 month extension! Safe till February 11^th!

2. Luckier break! Lauran and I had been loathing not the 2 hour flight to Addis Ababa, but the 12 hours we’d have to wait before going to Cairo. Our flight to Ethiopia, while very smooth and quick (with meal service and a movie – on a two hour flight!) was just the fist part of what was bound to be a long night.

We arrived a few minutes early, at 9pm, and being in no rush, we allowed other passengers the privilege of escaping the plane first. Lauran got talking to a guy nearby who’d mentioned he was looking forward to getting a good night’s rest in the hotel provided by the airline. Come to find out, Ethiopian Airlines was giving him a room and 2 free meals. Were we able to get this deal too? We agreed to check it out at the first Ethiopian Airlines desk we saw.

Turns out since Ethiopian offers only two flights from NBO and Cairo to Addis every other day, all the travelers were waiting 12-16 hours as well, so we were all to be given transit visas and be put up in hotels for the night. Horay! We get to sleep for freeeeeeeee!

3. Arabic Primer, Lesson #1. While we waited for our bus, I got into a conversation with Abu, a Sudanese engineer on his way home from a convention in Nairobi. Abu (“father” in Arabic) took me under his wing, leading me and Lauran to our transfer bus to the hotel, offering me the seat next to him, and teaching me how to write “teacher,” “Chris,” and “Webb” in Arabic. Even more fun, on the way to our Jerusalem Hotel, he taught me Arabic terms for pedestrian (seyara), car (araba), and bus (lorry). In return, I taught him to punch people in the arm when he saw Volkswagen Beetles.

It was nice to make a new friend, but even nicer to shake the timidness I feel in new situations. It was rewarding to get the chance to learn about another culture (Muslims get Christmas day off, but don’t celebrate anything on it), and really, isn’t this what this trip is all about?

Ok, off to bed. Bus comes at 6:30am, and I’ve got a complimentary breakfast to eat. Later!

-cw, (or in Arabic, )

Observations | Final Pre-Egypt Post!

2005-12-16T13:59:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT – Only 3 hours till I begin my big adventure!

As I sit here writing this post, I think of all the things I packed in my suitcase, the possible things I might have forgotten (“Should I bring my little plastic Christmas tree? Hmmmm…”), and the few plans I’ve had yet to solidify. But most of all, I’m overcome with excitement for the time that’s about to come, starting at 4pm when Lauran and I head to the airport. Even though it’ll be a while before we’re in Egypt – we don’t leave Kenya until 7:15pm, arrive in Ethiopia at 9pm, and still have to wait 12 hours to fly to Cairo! – I itch with anticipation for the beginning steps in my Christmas break adventure.

I don’t know how well I’ll be able to keep in touch in these next two weeks. As of right now, I’m not planning on bringing my laptop with me, although there’s still ample time to change my mind. It seems like there are a pretty decent amount of internet cafes, so maybe I can get some posts done there. However, I want you all to know that while I’m not around, you’ll all still be in my heart as I get to tour this incredibly historical place. Lauran, iGor (my iPod), and I will definitely have a great time, but look forward to coming home, too.

Wow, did I just refer to Maxwell as home? Hmmm… :)

~~Three~~ (heck, why not) Four final observations before I leave:

1. To answer the most obvious, most pressing questions that are undoubtedly on your minds as Christmas time rolls around: 1) Yes, we celebrate X-Mas in Africa, and 2) Yes, Santa is black. Duh. On Tuesday’s town trip, after eating an incredible meal and For You, a great Chinese restaurant (now referred to politically-incorrectly by Elvin as “Ching Chong Town”), we decided to go over to the Yaya Center, a nice mall, and do our part in accelerating the digestion process. We walked in, unified in our goal to simply walk around, until my eyes met up with one of the most brilliantly hilarious sights I’d ever witnessed: black Santa.

Sitting in a large chair with a Christmas tree behind him, no different than the scene in any mall anywhere in the States, was Santa Claus, decked out in a red suit and a white beard. No different, of course, except in the fact that this was not Santa Claus but Santa Leroy. I knew from the moment it caught my eye that I’d have to sit on his lap.

We walked around to do our shopping, and on our way out to the vehicle, I decided I couldn’t go without this picture. I very willingly paid the 300/= for a shot and pulled Honey with me to the big fella’s lap. I never beamed so bright as I knew I had the perfect image to post on this blog. As I pulled myself up to a standing position, I was yanked down by Santa Black’s hand. Kris Kringle Kenya apparently had something to tell me.

“WHMM MM MYU MANN MOR MRISMA?”

The blank, confused, and likely frightened look on my face was probably read by Santa, and he spoke up louder to get his words around the large fake white cotton beard.

“WHA DU YOU WAN FOR CHRISMAS?”

Ah, yes, thankfully, a Kenyan accent. NOW I can understand. “Peace on earth… and to get off your lap, you creep fool!” (Note: The second part of this statement wasn’t actually voiced, but expressed through my wriggling and squirming on this pervert’s lap. Let me GO!). I managed to escape the death grip that usually has hold of eight tiny elephants. Honey, still being held onto and likely groped by the Molest’a’Claus, shot me a look of desperation, and after a bit of tugging, we managed to pry her off the full-grown adult’s lap.

Was it worth it? What do you think?

Oh yea. Definitely.

2. Now I can finally nap in peace. After months and months of appreciating the Maxwell Academy Prep Band (Prep likely being an acronym for “Pretty much Ruining Easy band Pieces”), the day had finally come: band concert. This is the day the students who’d worked so hard, slaving over their choir and band pieces, had been looking forward to for so long.

(Elvin and I had been looking forward to this day for equally as long. After this concert, there would probably be no more slaughtering music during our nap time.)

All jokes aside, the concert, which took place up at the division because of it’s great acoustics and stunningly magnificent architecture that makes St. Peter’s Basillica look like Steven’s Shrimp Shack (“Thanks tithe money!”), was wonderful. The music department put on a great show, the appropriate conclusion to a semester of practicing their music over and over and over again.

Afterwards, the students celebrated with a pizza dinner in the cafeteria and a marshmallow roast at our amphitheater/fire-pit/make-out corner before going back to the café for a showing of the Christmas classic, Elf. (Who’s copy? Hmmm…) As for Valerie and I, we slipped out of the part-ay to have our own; the Chiefs were about to whoop the Denver Broncos.

Merry Christmas.

3. Speaking of the Chiefs… my parents are awesome. These two thoughts might seem like non-sequitors, but in fact, they are very related, thanks to Chiefs Pro-Bowl fullback Tony Richardson.

A few weeks ago, my mom wrote Carl Peterson, GM/President/Grand Poobah of the Kansas City Chiefs, to tell him about her incredible son, the obsessive Chris Webb who doesn’t flinch at waking up at 4am to listen to his favorite football team play a game. She told him I’d watched all their games via VCR and how even all the way in Africa, I still managed to tell them news about the team before they even knew.

I don’t really know what happened in the locker room or offices of Arrowhead; all I know is that a week ago I got this in my email inbox:

Hello Chris,

I hope this e-mail finds you well. I've heard a lot of great things about you and want to let you know I'm proud of the commitment you've made to help other people in their time of need.

Your mother Olga wrote a letter to the Kansas City Chiefs and told me a little bit about you. By the way, this is Tony Richardson of the Kansas City Chiefs. We appreciate your support from afar.

Your mother told us about your bedroom and that you are a huge Chiefs fan. As you know we just had a great victory against Denver to put us at 8-4 and we're very optimistic about this week's game vs Dallas and the remainder of the season.

Continue to walk this great walk of faith. I'll be praying for you. Go Chiefs and God bless!!

Tony Richardson

I really believed this was the meanest joke ever, brought to me by my cruel parents, until I did some research. It was sent at 12pm CST, far past their bedtimes. He did mention Olga, something my mom or dad wouldn’t have straight-up wrote (too suspicious). And then there’s the email address: an AOL account (which you have to pay for), and registered to a Tony Richardson from Kansas City… hmmm.

Needless to say, I flipped. I ran over to Valerie’s apartment to show her, breaking a glass bottle and almost my ankle on the way. I forwarded the letter to my parents, sister, friends, relatives, and in general, pretty much anyone I knew. I couldn’t believe it!

Mom, Dad, T-Rich – you guys are awesome.

4. The new reading list: David Sedaris, Douglas Adams, and Egypt guidebooks. I’ve bought two David Sedaris audiobooks – “Live at Carnegie Hall” and “Dress your family in corduroys and denim” – in the last 3 days. I borrowed the “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” 4-part “trilogy” from the Hartzells a few days ago. And I’ve got two separate guidebooks regarding the place I’ll be for the next two weeks.

I shouldn’t be too busy.

Allright, I believe that’s all. 2 hours and counting! Miss you all already.

-cw

Neato | Coolest blog you'll see today... besides this one.

2005-12-15T14:26:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - We do something similar to this at Union... but totally not as cool.

My name is Kyle MacDonald and I am making a series of up-trades for bigger or better things up to my goal of a house... I started with one red paperclip on July 12th, 2005... The current item up for trade is an all-inclusive three-day trip to Yahk, British Columbia, Canada. [Trip includes: Return airfare for one person from anywhere in North America, Three nights Accommodation in a ‘swanky’ hotel, Meals, Full-day guided snowmobile trip in and around Yahk, 1 day skiing at either Fernie or Kimberley Alpine resort.

This man might become my hero.

-cw

Hostage | If I ever live somewhere that has snow again, I need one of these. Or I don't come home.

2005-12-14T22:27:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S APARTMENT - Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the V-8 powered snowblower.

Allright, right ON! Let's DO this!

-cw

Neato | The coolest thing you'll see today: Roman graffiti

2005-12-13T23:35:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - Ever wonder what was scrawled on the bathroom walls in Pompeii?

"Lesbianus, you defecate and you write, ‘Hello, everyone!’"
"Satura was here on September 3rd"
"I screwed the barmaid"
"Gaius Sabinus says a fond hello to Statius. Traveler, you eat bread in Pompeii but you go to Nuceria to drink. At Nuceria, the drinking is better."

PARENTAL WARNING: The writings on this page are not suitable for children under 13... or 18... heck, for anyone.

Anyone but Lesbianus.

-cw

Loco | "Dude, like, this is how we stop the fighting in that Iraq place..."

2005-12-13T10:35:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - When stoners take over the US... a preview.

Hey, whatsup y’all. Been passing out with CNN on a lot lately, and I've noticed that [stuff] seems pretty [messed] up over in Iraq. Also heard like, most of the Democrats have the same ideas for what to do about it as Bush does. Which got me thinking. I got ideas coming out the [my bottom], especially when I toke on the ganja, which is pretty much all the time. So I came up with this list of presents we can all give to Iraq for Christmas...

Dude, like totally...

-cw

Loco | The best/worst Christmas presents ever.

2005-12-12T22:11:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - I need this under my tree... STAT.

Aim and fire with your mouse. C’mon, wage your very own war with weapons of mass compression. You know you want to.

Yes, I do. Imagine, sitting in my office...

Student: Mr. Webb, can I stay up 15 extra minutes past lights out?
Mr. Webb: NO! (Satanic Laugh) Now dance puppet! (Shooting darts at the poor, unsuspecting student)
Student: PORQUE!!!!!

==================================

And the winner of worst Christmas present ever... the kid who's going to get an $800 picture of an Xbox!

Look at this page, and scroll down to the "text" about the machine itself. In the 2nd to the last line, there's the sentence:

"This auction is not for an Xbox 360 system, but instead for a picture of one."

Basically, what he's saying is that you're not buying the Xbox, but the picture of it.

How is the mother ever gonna wrap that up?

-cw

PSA | I Suck

2005-12-12T22:03:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - I suck.

For someone who takes pride in having a blog and keeping it relatively updated, I’ve done a darn-near horrible job of not updating it in the last 2 weeks. While there’s a magnitude of reasons I haven’t done very well, to say the least, in the past few days (Pastor Rich visiting, finals approaching, a straight-up bout with laziness, etc.), for the most part, it’s been just not getting around to it. Now, as my trip to Egypt approaches and I’m preparing to take off, I want to have what’s been going on in my neck of the woods out there for my (3) fans to enjoy.

So here is a small link to what went down while Rich Carlson was here; give it a read, it’s pretty enjoyableThis week I’m going to make sure I keep this blog updated to get back into the rhythm of writing every day. While I previously had talked myself out of taking my laptop to Egypt, I might now so I’ll be able to tell the world what I’ve seen. Hmmmm, we’ll see…

-cw

Neato | Step into the jungle.

2005-12-11T21:20:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - Here are pictures from my adventures with the Cheetah petting place. Click on the picture for a larger version.

===

Here's Valerie, the adventurous one who stepped right up to these colossal felines and began Petting Fest 2005. My excuse for not going down and petting it myself? Someone had to take the picture, right?

Now Pastor Rich steps up and give the "little guys" a pet. Cooooool. This moment gave him a great story for his sermon, where he referenced how if "these things wanted to tear my face off, they pretty much could have."

I'm not really scared here, honestly. Now, of course, I'm not too sure that these guys are too safe, but they're so set on ripping apart their uncooked, raw steaks that they didn't even notice.

Again, I know I've said this before, but these big guys are really very sweet. They just sit there and eat their food, calmly, like a normal housecat. They apprently purr when you scratch them behind their ears, and they enjoy a backscratch as much as Garfield.

Fun fact: The spots of cheetahs actually grow up from the skin. They're not just a fur thing - they're on the skin. As the hair grows up, it retains the spots on the skin itself. Neato.

Again, I'm not scared. I believe that look is simply "gassy."

And now, the great shot of ripping open the meat... yum yum. No barbecue sauce required. (Fun fact: Before I got to the cheetahs, we checked out two lions eating. They eat 10lbs of beef a day. No forks required.)

Hey, maybe they got the right idea... hmm... tasty...

-cw

Observations | SPECIAL RICH CARLSON EDITION

2005-12-04T17:53:00.000+03:00

BOYS’ DEAN’S OFFICE – After 3 months here, I can officially say that it’s nice to see another American.

On Thursday, the time had finally come. Pastor Rich Carlson from Union was going to land in Jomo Kenyatta Airport, carrying X-Mas goodies from home. Valerie and I buzzed all day long, looking forward to seeing our old UC-mate get off the plane. Mr. Thomas, Val, and I were to leave Maxwell at 8:30 to get to the airport on time, so the day was anticipation.

But finally, 8:30 rolled around, and the three members of the MAA Welcoming Committee hopped into the school van and tore down the road for Nairobi. It was strange to ride into town at night as I had a few months earlier; the difference was that this time I went to the airport, fully aware of Africa and how this whole thing worked. Last time, I’d stepped off a plane and was thrown into a whole new world. I thought about this the entire way into the airport, thanking God for how much he’s already done in my life.

We waited for about a half hour until a familiar face came into view – Rich Carlson! It was great to see a face of someone we hadn’t in so long. We delayed the really good welcome for a while, as Rich had to go in and still pick up his luggage. Another hour passed, and some bad news came – only 4 of his 7 boxes of luggage came through. However, this is a common issue in flying to Africa, and Mr. Thomas assured him that the other 3 pieces (Valerie’s Christmas box and one of her two suitcases from her family) would arrive the next day. Back to Maxwell!

The ride back was filled with a game of 20 (thousand) questions from Val and I, asking all about how Union College was surviving without us. We arrived safely at the school and unloaded the boxes into the guesthouse that Rich was staying in. We bid him goodnight and went back to our apartments for the night… with boxes of goodies!

Three wicked cool things with Rich being here:

1. Thanks for all the fish! Ok, so I got no fish… but I did get loads of other stuff! I got back to the apartment and unloaded my box out of the van. I tossed it onto my bed and started ripping through it. Oh, it was so filled with all kinds of goodies: food, notes, little knick-knacks. I was about to really tear into it when I saw a little package that stuck out. I pulled it out and looked inside and was excited to see a small plastic Christmas tree, identical to the ones you can buy in the stores at home, but six inches tall! I knew what had to happen now. I sadly put everything except the tree back into the plastic bin and slipped into my bed to try and get some rest. Tomorrow would be the real Christmas.

After waking up semi-early to do be at staff worship (where I’d share my box of fresh chocolate chip tollhouse cookies – thanks to whoever sent those!), we took Rich on a walk up to see the East-Central Division offices. We came back down to Maxwell to get some pictures taken in our “natural environments,” and when I had my chance, I slipped out to celebrate the holidays my way. I headed to the apartment to shower, put on pajamas, play the $28 worth of Christmas music I “accidentally” bought on iTunes the other day, and put up my little six-inch tree. When everything was all ready, it was time to open presents. I pulled out every item out of my huge blue tub, laughing at the notes from friends and feeling excitement from every gift, from a can of black beans to a new shirt and tie. It was one of the best, most memorable times from my close-to-four-months here in Africa. Again and again, thank you to all who put stuff in my box. From the pack or mini-powdered doughnuts to the instant-horchata (you’re AWESOME Claudia!), you’ve given me the best Christmas ever. Thank you all.

2. Now they wanna come to Union? Valerie and I were under the impression that the moment we stepped on the Maxwell Academy campus, we were recruiting for Union College. Sadly, we’d only gathered mildly interested reactions from 3 or 4 students; it just wasn’t cool enough for them. But then Rich Carlson comes, waving his “Try the International Rescue and Relief program” and the “If you come, we’ll give you a half a trip home ever year you’re here” banners, and now, 30 students are considering Union College as the place they’ll continue their educations.

After talking to the graduating class and bribing them with the chance to visit home, Rich took out the students to some pizza for lunch on Friday, forever securing him in their hearts as “awesome.” He further confirmed the deity-like status among the Maxwell Academy class of 2006 by handing out Union College shirts (along with applications) on Saturday night. In an unprecedented show of “We’re better than all you underclassmen,” the entire class wore their aqua and light blue shirts on Monday. Valerie and I, who’d received the two extra shirts for being the UC representatives on campus, went along with the young ‘uns for the big dress-alike.

But how many do we really have? Well, according to my numbers, I predict that we’ll have 5 Maxwellites at Union next year. While that’s a drop in the bucket compared to the 30 that could come, it’s not bad, considering that there wasn’t an MAA student at Union in the last 2 years. So there.

3. Another “Priceless” moment in Africa. I’ve been so blessed to have had some memories here that’ll always stick with me. I’ve haggled in Nairobi, been kissed by a giraffe, charged at by a rhino, and have in general had the most memorable times in my life. But one that happened on Friday afternoon after the pizza with the Seniors might stick out as far, if not more, than anything else I’ve done: I went into the cage of three live, full grown cheetahs, and pet them. Pet them!

We drove over to the entrance of the Nairobi Game Park, where there’s an animal orphanage that you can see the animals a little closer than in the wild. We walked around, admiring the monkeys, lions, and gazelle-like creatures. (Astute readers might recognize how often I refer to “gazelle-like creatures” in substitution for dik-diks, impalas, elands, bushbucks, antelopes, waterbucks, hartebeests, and gazelles. This is not to imply that all these animals look the same… even though they do. It is in fact proof that I am lazy and don’t care to go through the trouble of identifying the animals. So whatever.) Finally, at the end of the tour, we stopped before the three full-grown cheetahs and watched them stalk around their cage.

Now somehow, I still don’t really understand, if you’re there during feeding time and you have white skin (white skin = money), you can give ‘em a little “encouragement” (100 shillings) to go inside and pet the cats while they’re eating their lumps of raw meat. Somehow, our tour guide and us got to the same idea and , walla, there we were inside a cage with 3 full-grown giant cheetahs, feasting on some beef.

Valerie, who’d been there already, went right up to the cats and began scratching their necks, backs, and even hind areas, just as if they were real, normal housecats. Hesitantly, Rich, Elvin, and I stepped up to the big guys and joined in the fun. As I scratched these big kitties behind their ears, I was just amazed that I was doing this. Here I was, with these giant things that could take me down if they so pleased, and they were as happy as could be eating their food. Wow.

I got my few require pictures (some weren’t very good, so I’ll have to go back, oh darn…) and we headed back to MAA, but overall it was an incredible experience. Now if I can just ride a wild elephant or watch something kill something else in the wild, I think I’ll be set…

Ok, thanks for reading along here. Love you all, miss ya bunches. Again, thanks for the presents! Later!

-cw

Neato | I need this in the dorm.

2005-11-30T23:38:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - This is how we'll get the guys to aim properly. If Mr. Nibbles can, so can you, Jonny.

"I was shocked! Tom kicked his litter habit and was using the toilet in just a few weeks. You've got a great product CitiKitty."
Rick - Washington DC

So awesome. I want to kick my litter habit, too.

-cw

Loco | Don't think of it like that, don't think of it like that...

2005-11-30T16:32:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - Look at t his page and tell me why this woman has never considered changing her name.

And I promise this isn't a porn site!

-cw

Loco | What's on the tube?

2005-11-29T23:11:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S APARTMENT - I mean, what's not on the tube.

Every man in America salutes you, Al Jessup.

-cw

PSA | While partaking in a spitting contest, points will be deducted from contestants who fall off the balcony and die.

2005-11-28T22:56:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - I need to write this one down on the "Don't-do-this" list.

Drobek, his brother and a friend, were competing in a spitting-distance contest, according to Ollech. He said at one point, Drobek crouched down and sprung up to spit off the balcony and went over the railing.

Stupid...

-cw

Neato | Tagalog Primer #1

2005-11-28T18:49:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - I've been spending some time lately learning a new language, Tagalog, the official language of the Phillipines. I now present my first of many primers on this interesting language.

===

"Look, there is a little monkey eating your toe!"

"tingnan mo yung unggoy kinakain paa mo!"

"What is it about cheese and goat-meat that is so appealing to you?"

"ano bang nagustuhan mo sa keso [or you can just say cheese] at karne ng kambing?"

"Your eyes shine like the diamond-encrusted jewels around Usher's neck, and your breath is rich with the scent of spiced cabbage."

"ang mga mata mo'y kasing ningning ng kwintas ni usher, at ang hininga mo'y kasing anghang ng repolyo."

"No, you may not put hepatitis on your pizza as a topping."

"dahil merong gustong magkaroon ng hepatitis sa kanyang pizza.."

"Must be 21 to enter. Prices and participation may vary. Please consult your physician before use."

"para lang sa mga 21 pataas. Kumunsulta muna sa inyong doktor"

"Mmmm, this jackrabit meat is very tasty. Next time, however, for added flavor, you should strip his fur off before baking him. I believe he would be much more tender."

"mmmmm...mukhang masarap ang karne ng jackrabit. Para mas sumarap at maging malambot ang kalabasan, balatan muna bago lutuin."

"Sister, take your tampons out of the refrigerator!"

"Kapatid, tanggalin mo yung mga tampon mo sa ref!"

"You have beautiful eyes. Can I eat them?"

"maganda ang mga mata mo. pwede ko bang kainin yan?"

===

-cw

When I grow up... | Posnanski's Thanksgiving wishes

2005-11-25T22:32:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - Yet another piece of artwork by the great Joe Posnanski. A must-read if you've ever been in Kansas City for more than 38 seconds.

I’m thankful for triples and punt returns without flags and chocolate strawberries from Laura Little’s Candy Kitchen. I’m thankful for Mike Sweeney hitting when he’s healthy, and Will Shields blasting open a hole on the right side and the people trying to get an NHL team for the new arena. I’m thankful for those four little art deco hair curler thingies on top of Bartle Hall, even though I still don’t know what they are. After 10 years, you start to like things just because they’ve lasted.

I will be this man one day.

-cw

Play | Happy Thanksgiving! Now, for that turkey...

2005-11-24T23:43:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - Yet another classic time-waster. Fun, not too difficult... until the blasted turkeys shoot you back.

Miss you all! Hope you have a great break!

-cw

P.S. I scored 7800 before I had to go to the bathroom. Post your scores as comments under this blog! Later!

Observations | SPECIAL "THANKSGIVING" EDITION

2005-11-24T22:38:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT – Right now, my parents are probably on a mountain in Colorado, skiing down without me.

I should be sad. To counter, I’ll just go with “Nanny nanny boo boo, I’m in AFRICA.”

It’s a kinda somber Thanksgiving, really. I know what home is up to. I know the scene at the houses of my friends. I know what the weather looks like, what the leaves look like, how cold it is. But here I am, across the ocean, far away from all of them.

I especially miss the ski trip that has really become one of the staples in our family. They’re staying in the same place, renting equipment from the same place, hitting a few of the same runs (and some new ones I want to try), and the worst part is I can see it. I know exactly where they are… but for the next year, all I can do is picture it.

So in an effort to drown out the memories and thoughts of what I’m missing, I will now systematically eat through a box of cookies and a jar of Nutella.

Three thankful Observations:

1. I’m thankful I’m not sick anymore. About 6pm yesterday, the most horrible fever and achy-body came over me… and fast. I sat at the boys’ dean’s desk, a puddle of my normal self, begging to go to bed… and I still had 5 hours to work! I was a complete mess.

Please note that I’m not a big “sick” person. I don’t remember the last time – from college to academy to middle school – I missed a day because I was sick. The bug can never really gets the best of me, I usually avoid it or shake it off and move on. But from where I was on Wednesday night, I thought that my streak would come to a sudden halt.

It wasn’t any better the following morning, when I awoke to find 3 guys needed to be put on sick list. After being tempted to report myself as the 4^th that was to miss all appointments for the day, I struggled throughout the rest of the morning. I went back to bed and napped, took some medicine, and got in a shower to scrape off the nasty off me.

Strangely enough, I actually felt decent by lunchtime. By 3pm, after another nap, I felt ok, like I could finish out the day. By Thanksgiving dinner at 6pm, being sick seemed like a far off memory. In 24 hours I’d gotten nailed with a nasty virus that I thought would sideline me for days, and I’d also gotten over it, just like that.

2. I’m thankful for government… or at least that we have to teach it. I just picked up my books for teaching the class 2^nd semester. My attitude from this has changed from “Boy, I wanna do this” to “Boy, it’d be cool, but not possible” to “Awesome, it is possible” to “Oh my, it’s gonna happen” to “Oh, ok, well that woulda been fun” and back to “Oh, it is going to happen!” And I say the last one in a very scared way.

Next week, I’ll have to spend some time setting up a class calendar, a syllabus, a classroom policy, lesson plans, and my class final, a “Write-your-own-constitution” final project. Exhausting! But super-exciting too. Before I came here, I prayed I’d have the opportunity to teach a class – my own class. I had a nice little tease in early October, when I got to substitute for Mrs. Rusunescu in English. But that wasn’t my classroom. Now, I’ll have that. Cool.

3. I’m thankful for what I have here. This afternoon, I carried on with my Thursday afternoon tradition of helping out at the elementary school, where I ~~teach~~ hang out with my favorite kids in the world. From there I went up to the cafeteria to help, along with some other staff, with the Thanksgiving dinner preparations. When all was set, I sat with a few of my favorite high school students and some fellow staff members and enjoyed a great little meal.

I thought about that later and really came to the realization of what’s happened. I have been here 106 days, and I hardly think about home. I don’t spend a lot of time wondering what my friends are doing at UC without me. I don’t analyze what I need to do when I get back.

Right now, I’m adjusted. I’m happy here. I know how it works and I’ve gotten everything down. Every day, I’m making a point of living for that day and that day alone. I wake up in the morning, still, and once or twice a day say “damn… I’m in Africa.” I take more chances, do more when I get the opportunity, get to know people more often, all of that. I’m flourishing here, and I thank God that this opportunity has came. It’s something that will forever impact my life.

Happy Thanksgiving, guys. Save me some turkey.

-cw

Observations | Safe in Kenya, Town trip, and Turkey

2005-11-23T11:20:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT – Christmas is in just about 10 days.

Being that mailing things to Africa is a time-consuming (no to mention barely guaranteed) process, UC chaplain Pastor Rich Carlson will be bringing Valerie and I our SM Christmas Boxes, by hand, when he comes to visit next Thursday. Val and I are super excited, being that our friends and families have loaded us up with some goodies to make our holidays here seem a little more like normal.

The last few days have been draining, knowing that we’d get a little taste of home, but still in another week and a half. However, we’re excited for Rich coming and visiting us. He’s apparently visited Asia and South America in the last few months, so swinging over to Africa here is just a part of his world tour. (*Jealous*) Seeing someone that we’d so closely related to our Union experience will be a great reminder that while we’ve still got great times ahead here in Africa, we’ll be back home soon, too.

Three Observations:

1. SAFE! With the previously reported “No” victory for the referendum, it seems that my future in this country has been secured. The Orange camp comfortably beat the Yes Bananas, and the few riots that have been in the streets are out of glee, not anger. (By the way, am I the only one who’s still not sure why joyous times also call for riots? I mean, remember what happened in Detroit a few years ago after the Pistons won the NBA Finals – Why? “Horay, our team is the best, let’s flip over this Passat and light it on fire!” I don’t get it. Maybe they were just upset that the Pistons had accomplished something the Lions, Tigers, and ~~Bears~~ Red Wings couldn’t do. Detroit sucks.)

So now, I guess Kenya’s constitution is back on the drawing board. They’ll start working on a new plan, which will probably take another 4 or 5 years to get nailed down. I’m guessing that’ll all be thrown to the wayside, though, in 2007, when President Kibaki, the biggest supporter of the constitution, will have to run for re-election. John, the cafeteria native worker I went to the election with the other day, invited me to come back and take part in that one.

Not as an SM, no way. But what about as foreign press…

2. “History of violence,” but not currently. At the voting center, the lady I was talking to had told me that she thought it would be best to avoid Nairobi on Tuesday, especially the inner parts of town. If anything was to go bad at all, it would happen there and then. Between that and an additional warning from Doug Hartzell, I felt pretty nervous about our town trip for the week.

However, after some coaxing from Elvin to go in (“If we don’t, the terrorists have won!”), I decided to give it a shot, as long as we weren’t out in town as late as usual. My traveling partners conceded, and we swung in to pick up some groceries and do a little bit of shopping.

It ended up being a very short town trip. Yaya Center, a mall that we’ve hung out at before, had most of its stores closed down for the holiday. We’d eaten before we left, so our weekly Java House stop was just for sweets. (Have I ever declared my love for espresso sundaes before? That goes onto the list of me to write love songs for…) We thought about taking in a movie at Nakumatt Junction, but after the disaster that was last week’s “A History of Violence”, we decided to skip out and just grab the groceries and get back home.

It was literally our shortest town trip of all-time; we were back on campus by 5pm, with plenty of time to unload groceries, eat supper at the café, and toss around the football at rec. Later that night, we’d finish out the trilogy of (good) Tom Clancy book-movies, Clear and Present Danger. Overall, a pretty calm and normal town-trip. Very welcomed, considering that it could have been exciting (too exciting) had the election gone the other direction.

3. No turkey, but… As my family spends their Thanksgiving break in Colorado on our annual ski trip to Breckenridge, I’m now even farther – 10 time zones – from them. Not only is there not snow here, there’s no break or anything from classes on Thursday. Why? Because in Africa they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving. Or 4^th of July. Or Labor Day.

Why not (as 3 different friends and family members have asked me in the last week)? Because the Pilgrims didn’t land here.

Just as well, there are enough American staff and students to justify doing a special dinner on Thursday evening to commemorate the holiday going on across an ocean from us. We’ll have sweet potatoes, gravy, corn, and gluten (close you eyes, stick it in your mouth, and pretend like it’s turkey!). While I’d much rather spend the evening with my family, it’ll be a very acceptable, very welcomed attempt to emulate the scene at home.

Okeeeee, I think it’s time to get some stuff done. I’ll talk to yall later. E-mail me sometime, darn it! I’m all alone her on the holidays!

-cw

Neato | I GET TO STAY IN KENYA!

2005-11-22T07:42:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - Oh thank the Lord.

Yes votes: 2,383,782 (41%)
No votes: 3,403,353 (58%)

-cw

Observations | SLT (Last?), "boredom couples," and seeing the election firsthand.

2005-11-21T16:25:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT – After working the better part of 168 hours worth of deaning, I can finally say it: Finally, off duty!

Like I’ve said before, I enjoy being on duty. Guys will come in and talk to me, and often times, it’ll be the only/first time we’ve talked in a while. If no one’s around I mess around on the net or write blogposts or read a book (like April Blood, which I’ve finally started on). I’ve even brought over my laptop to the office and talked to the family over Skype. I keep myself busy.

But the freedom of being off duty – not having to sit in the office – is a very welcomed event. So the fact that my time off was approaching was very welcomed to me. Even the canceling of school on Monday, because of the declared “Election Day” national holiday, didn’t dull my excitement at all. As the hands on the clock eked forward, my heart began to sing with the thoughts of naps, free time, and scratching. Ah yes, scratching.

Three Long Weekend Observations:

1. SLT’s last stand. The Social-Life Terminator was faced with one of his hardest challenges on Wednesday, when Luke*, the demon-seed that’s been causing the man/machine problems from the get-go, left the SLT in a puddle of anger and rage.

After wasting all of rec time on the phone with his new little girlfriend, Luke* joined rest of the guys over at joint worship, only to come back and call the lady again. Other people needed to use the phone, so SLT stepped up and informed the delinquent to “get the crap off the phone.”

“Why?” was the response.

“Because you were on the phone throughout all of rec and now other people need to talk, too, k?” Taken care of, end of the matter. Next…

Oh no, but the party was just getting started. Luke* stormed into the office, accusing SLT of embarrassing him in front of the other guys in the dorm. (“Embarrasing” him by answering his “Why” question, I can only presume.) While the nightly dorm business was going on, Luke* felt that his complaints and grievances must be dealt with right now.

Long story short, SLT and Luke* ended up standing at opposite ends of the desk in the office, yelling at eachother. While SLT didn’t feel he was out of line in expressing his outright anger towards the student, he did begin to feel the stirrings of upset-ness in the situation. SLT picked up the phone and called in the original SLT, Mr. VerSteeg, and asked him for advice in the situation. After being calmed down, SLT realized he’d played it all as well as he could – but, just to be sure, he’d take some time for a hardware reconfiguring.

SLT is not dead. He is just napping. Beware: it’s not over.

2. “So seeing how there’s no one else on campus to hang out with, and you’re a girl, and I’m a boy, let’s hook up!” The thing I learned from being on duty this long break was how boredom can be a huge motivator for love. Go figure.

It became a joke among the staff how many “boredom couples” were popping up all over the place. Guys and girls who’d never get along in a normal situation were suddenly hooking up, spending all their time together, and giving the supervision staff headaches. Ah, wuv, twue wuv.

Funny, once people started showing back up from long break on Monday, the “boredom couples” evaporated right out of existence. I cannot explain this phenomenon. More to come...

3. The election, up close. As I said earlier, the Kenyan government decided to make Monday (and Tuesday) national holidays, canceling work (and school, except not on Tuesday for us) in observance of the day’s referendum election. Only Kenyan citizens, like some of the campus’ native workers, could vote today, slightly disappointing to me, an avid follower of the political scene here for the past few months. But I was invited by John, one of the head cooks in the cafeteria, to go with him to his polling station to check out what was going on. Since I was off this afternoon, I figured “Why not?” and followed him down the road.

We walked for about 20 minutes down the road to the next town, called Kiserian. After a quick excursion for John’s national ID card, we walked in the Arap Moi School, the closest site for voting. We walked about 150 feet from the road to a room where voting took place. While John went in (to vote Orange – No to the referendum), I stood outside and talked to the lady who was directing people into the room. She told me that even though the polls opened at 7am that morning, at 6:40 there were 4 lines of people from the room I was standing outside to the street; at her estimate, probably 1,200 people waiting to vote! No one could say Kenyans were uninterested in their government.

The woman also speculated with me that she thought that Banana (Yes) had taken most of the vote in that polling station, a relatively troubling thought for me. From all pre-polls, it looked as if Orange (No) had more of the country’s support. If the referendum was to be passed, it would look as though the election was rigged, and the country would undoubtedly be faced with a tumultuous situation. In all reality, a No victory was favored by the non-Kenyans on campus, because a Yes vote could lead to enough unrest that we might need to be pulled out. That this polling station was leaning towards Banana didn’t sit too well with me. I was about to ask the woman more questions when John came out, ballot completed, ready to go.

As we walked back to MAA, I told John what the lady at the polling place had said and asked him his thoughts. It didn’t even seem to phase him: “Oh no, Orange still will win, I think.” He told me some of the ridiculous rules and items put into the constitution (like having to buy a permit to bury your own dog on your own property). He was convinced that the election would go the way of the “no”. Ok…

Allright, I’m gonna take some time to nap! Will write more soon!

-cw

Loco | Terrorists have now taken over our cell phones.

2005-11-19T12:52:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, buy generic batteries. The terrorists are using them as tools of attack.

The cell phone had been charging on the Casper College student's bed. Witnesses say there was a large popping sound, and flames shot more than a foot into the air, melting the case, and burning the sheets on the bed.

Be warned: Your cell phone may try to KILL YOU.

-cw

Neato | Please get this for me for X-Mas.

2005-11-18T00:32:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - I think this might be the greatest childrens' toy ever to be invented.

Introducing Pee & Poo, the plush dolls.

I need these delievered to Maxwell Academy by December 25th. Thanks.

-cw

Loco | If I were a superhero...

2005-11-17T21:24:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - ... I would have "dealt" with this little problem.

She squeezed the cheese on his truck, and he squeezed the cheese in her hair before fleeing in his truck.

No more domestic cheese-on-spouse violence under my rule!

-cw

Hostage | The two people I looked up to in how to form a good, solid relationship - Brittany Spears and Kevin Federline - are calling it quits.

2005-11-16T22:49:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! *crying*

A confidante of Britney’s said to Australia’s NW: "Britney's already seen the divorce lawyer. As it stands, the divorce papers are written up and all she has to do is give the word and they'll be filed in the courthouse. She doesn't want to divorce Kevin, but if that's the best thing for her child and for her own sanity, that's exactly what she'll do."

Now who will I look up to?

-cw

Observations | Banquet, Chiefs, and Government :)

2005-11-16T20:13:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT – Ok, so I don’t ache at all from Sunday’s walk. Heck, not even that day…

I went on my third straight Mount Kenya prep-hike Sunday, and while I regretted the decision almost immediately, it wasn’t because I was tired or knew I couldn’t do it. About 24 steps into the hike, I realized “Hey, I really wish I was sleeping right now.”

But, desire to walk or none, Valerie and I pushed through the 10km of African roads – down the steepest hills ever, then right back up then – and returned to our bus in a little over an hour and a half. It was one of my quickest times ever, and that’s ok reason to be excited. But now, a day later, I can walk without much aching in my butt or my calves.

So while I was a little irked that I had to be up to re-conquer these hills, I definitely was awake afterwards, prepared for one of the longest days I’ve had in a long time.

Three Observations

1. “Can you bring me some salt, waiter?” Sunday night was finally one of the most-looked-forward-to events of the year: banquet. After weeks of hooking up with eachother, breaking up, finding new dates, buying gifts for those dates, and trying to look handsome/pretty for those dates, the time had finally come. My boys showered (finally), bathed in cologne, and picked up their dates from the girls dorm for an evening of romance… in the cafeteria.

My date? A plastic food-serving tray. The faculty were told last week that our duty for the night would be playing the part of servers, waiters, and waitresses to the students. Whoop-de-do. So while the googly-eyed teenagers stared at eachother for the night, I had the opportunity of placing food (that they would inevitably not touch) in front of them.

Of course, they took advantage of the situation. Some students demanded I bring them food that instant, so I willingly fulfilled their request, laying the pasta in front of them after warning them that I had “accidentally” hocked lugies on 3 of the 4 plates. Enjoy! Another student insisted that I bring them a small salt shaker, to which I responded by leaving a half-gallon bucket of salt at their table. Even the simple request for more ice cream warrant a series of insults that I can only assume had never been uttered at any banquet.

My goal was to be fired. Then I could go back to my apartment. No such luck.

After listening to countless dedications of ballads from one lover to another, declaring their undying love for eachother (sung by academy students), the students headed over to watch a “The Pacifier,” another box-office smash by the acting wonder that is Vin Diesel. While they did that, I supervised for a little while until all seemed calm. When the coast was clear, Valerie and I (who’d just pulled a complete weekend on-duty) snuck out of the movie, changed into comfortable clothes, and ran over to the Hartzells to watch…

2. The Chiefs Lose. Again. Hey, but again, how dedicated are we? After skipping out on listening to the second half of the Chiefs-Eagles Embarrass-fest, Valerie wasn’t going to be the cause of bad luck this time. We decided we’d stay up and listen to the game until midnight, no matter what. Even though we’d just worked 3 days straight and had to be up at 6am the next morning to do dorm worship, we weren’t going to let our team down. They’d have to let us down.

Long story short, they did. KC’s offense – arguably the most potent in the league in the last 5 years – put up a mind-numbing 3 points. THREE. While we didn’t leave until the final gun shot off, we lost heart halfway into the first half. *Sigh*

But the night wasn’t a complete wash. Talking to Doug Hartzell, I got some of the best news I’d heard in a while:

3. I am teaching next semester! I could hardly believe it. The reason that Doug had snatched up Lauran’s class from him was because he wanted it taught well, and with all due respect to Lauran, someone from the States should probably be teaching about our government. When Doug heard, though, that I wanted to take the job, he was delighted. He and his wife Carol bounced ideas of projects and classroom things off me the entire second half (when I didn’t want to listen, anyways).

Now, at this point, all that needs to be done is to talk to Principal Thomas, put together an official gameplan for me, and start scheduling away! This is great for me because I’d wanted to take a class, my own class, since before I arrived at Maxwell. While I truly enjoyed being a substitute teacher for Robyn Rusunescu’s English classes while she was in the U.S., I didn’t want to consider switching majors at all until I had spent a good amount of time in a classroom, running my own program. Now, that opportunity might be here. Fingers crossed!

Allright, I do believe it’s time for me to fly. Take care at home, and know that I miss ya bunches. Email sometime!

-cw

Hostage | I need salmon-flavored soda.

2005-11-15T12:03:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - If I don't get a bottle of this in Africa, I'm not coming back.

The salmon-flavoured soda will be offered as part of a $13 "regional holiday pack" that also includes other unusual sodas such as turkey & gravy, corn on the cob, broccoli casserole and pecan pie.

*Barf*

-cw

Loco | Spitting Transvestites of DEATH

2005-11-14T23:54:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - In college writing, we have been preached to how an impressive paragraph can set the tone for a whole article.

If I've ever read a better, more intriguing, "I've-got-to-read-more-of-that-article" paragraph of writing in my life, I don't remember it.

Members of a transvestite gang have confessed to concealing strong sedative pills under their tongues and spitting them down the throats of their victims while kissing, causing them to pass out so they can be easily robbed, police said.

AVOID THAILAND

-cw

SLT REPORT | Victim toll for weekend:3

2005-11-14T16:47:00.000+03:00

Username: *********

Password: *******

===ACCESS GRANTED===

Welcome to the Social-Life Terminator (SLT) report program. Here, SLT owners can evaluate the performance of their dean/droids.

YOU HAVE ONE NEW REPORT.

Social Life Terminator nailed three – count them, three – separate students on two different occasions. Report follows.

Roomcheck and Mr. Vigilante. It all began on Friday, about a half-hour before roomcheck, when SLT invited Miss Honey (evil nickname still in progress) to do the weekly cleanliness screening for him. The villainess agreed, and the check began a few moments after scheduled.

It took approximately 38 seconds for the guys to realize that SLT had a new Terminator in training. She began a hygienic campaign comparable to the mass executions of Jews in WWII. Guys were sneaking up behind her – into the traditionally “clean rooms” – seeing her leave checks for dustiness and not-smoothed-out beds, and flee into their own rooms for extra minutes of cleaning.

After one of the pig-sties met its destiny, SLT found myself surrounded by 5 guys, including Mr. Vigilante*, a certain student (with a rather high and impressive student title… at least, he thinks it is) that has a history of “tattling” on the Mr. Webb. Whether it was taking the lord Gosh's name in vain or a time he hadn’t been at recreation to see if certain students were there (“Sorry, Mr. Vigilante*, I must have been BEING A FRIGGIN’ DEAN.”), there always seems to be something that Webb is not doing up to par for this impressed-with-himself fellow.

“Mr. Webb, Mr. Webb!” they all screamed in unison. “She’s not being fair!”

“First of all, you know my name is SLT. Only refer to me by that name. Second of all, [Terrorizing Nickname for Miss Honey] will grade the rooms how she deems appropriate. All I’ve told her is to be consistent.”

Ah, and then the high, shrill, not-quite-a-real-man-yet voice of Mr. Vigilante* rose over the others. “Well, Mr. Webb, she isn’t being consistent with how you do it.”

The glare must have almost melted him into a puddle of Vigilante Juice. “Tell ya what, she will do it how she wants, and if you have a problem with it, you can take it to Dean Versteeg.” And the hammer of Thor strikes yet again.

Oh no, but that wasn’t it. Just when you think it’s over, another twist comes. That twist came with Ben*, a student especially infuriated by the intrusion of Honey into something so sacred as roomcheck. After she left his ticket (with only one mark-off, doubling his year-long total), SLT engaged itself in 5 separate arguments with Ben* about how “SHE” didn’t know what she was talking about. He didn’t seem to understand that “No” didn’t mean “Please, keep asking, maybe I’ll change my mind,” but really, “NO.”

Ben* wasn’t about to give up. If SLT wasn’t going to listen to him, surely he’d have to pull in reinforcements. Who would be another student, so respected and formidable, that couldn’t possibly be blocked out as Ben* had been?

Enter Mr. Vigilante*.

Vigilante stepped up to the plate immediately after Vespers. The first warning sign was him strolling confidently into the office and taking a seat directly in SLT’s field of vision. This was alarming because V* never came into the office unless some complaint or grievance was about to be filed. Also, Ben* stood nearby, waiting for his Ramen noodles to cook in the office microwave. How ironc…

“Mr. Webb, some guys have been complaining about roomcheck today…”

If only he knew how much SLT detests being called Mr. Webb. “Yes, I know of it, yes, it was dealt with, and Ben*, if I hear one more complaint from you I promise you will be grounded to your dorm room so long you’ll start making funeral arrangements.” Ben* storms out.

The anger shifted to Mr. Vigilante*. “And you, maybe you should spend less time on being the campus vigilante, fighting faculty every time someone is punished and more time on learning what’s going on!”

Vigilante* fired back: “Mr. Webb [I use bold here because of the sheer anger in his voice.], I do not appreciate you talking to me. If you have something to say, you can say it to me in a calm and civil manner…”

SLT pulls out grenade launcher: “No, Vigilante*, you calm down. Did you take any time at all to investigate whether Ben* had actually come to me before your indictments? Because had you checked that out, you might have seen that I’ve already discussed with Ben* 5 times.”

Pause. Vigilante* realizes his mistake in approaching a fully-loaded and prepared SLT. “No, I wasn’t aware of that…”

Laser beams shoot out of the human/droid’s eyes. “Well maybe next time you get your story straight before you come in here and attack me. Leave my office.”

Vigilante* leaves. SLT is victorious again. Resistance is useless.

SLT warned you. Do not test SLT. Another brilliant student tested ~~Happy Fun Ball~~ Social-Life Terminator this weekend. Since Sunday evening was going to be banquet (hence no study hall that night), we had our study hall on Saturday night as the activity for the evening. Yes, everyone was really excited… NOT.

While most of the guys went to their rooms to study, ASB’s Social Committee had special permission to go to the cafeteria and set up for the next day’s event. When they came back from decorating, one that SLT has “dealt with” in the last few days, Luke*, lurked into the office with a massive, way overfilled balloon.

SLT saw into the future. That’s going to pop near me.

The robot/dean/gift-to-all-women warned Luke* that if the balloon, already thinking about assploding himself, was to pop, so would Luke*’s dreams of a week hanging out with his new girlfriend.

Luke* laughed. SLT could not compute this reaction. He heard no joke.

Seconds later, the balloon assplodes. SLT informs Luke* that he is rec-bound for a week. Luke* then realizes it wasn’t a joke. Shock. Horror. Lost hopes. Head down. Stagger out of the office.

And the Triple-Crown of punishment is complete.

And now SLT hopes to recharge his batteries. Power down.

-cw

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent... or presumed innocent.

Loco | Real Headline: "Local Man Fired After Visions of the End of the World"

2005-11-14T07:46:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - And you thought you could get into trouble for messing up those TPS reports?

A Farragut man who said the end of the world would begin on Friday, has been fired from his job at Knology... He'd predicted five big cities in the US would face economic collapse... "In the end I view it as a resignation. I feel God is calling me to do other things. I've said this before but a couple of months ago he told me I wasn't going to work anymore"... John now admits he got the dates wrong...

Pass those dates along when you can, John, so we can schedule them into the calendar.

-cw

Observations | Egypt, Government :(, Narnia

2005-11-12T15:34:00.000+03:00

BOYS’ DEAN’S OFFICE – I’m soooooooooooooooo bored…

I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m cranky, I want to sleep

… and I am on duty. *sigh* So is the life of a dean on duty. I’m in the middle of a Friday-Saturday-Sunday stint here, and while I like being on duty more than I like being off, I’m still wondering why I haven’t moseyed on over to the apartment for one of those (3-hour long) 20-minute naps.

But alas, I am distracted. I keep looking at the copy of The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis that I stole from the library, and I’m craving to continue reading it, more than almost any book before. I’ve got guys coming in and out of the office wanting to chew the fat, so there’s that. I’ve got this blog to write, people online to chat with, news sources to check up on (amazingly, I’ve done a better job in keeping up with U.S. current events here than at home). I’ve got stuff to do.

But nonetheless, that nap does sound good…

Three (probably super unclear because the Sandman is drifting over me) Observations:

1. “No no no, perhaps you don’t get it – I’m going to Egypt whether you let me in or not!” Because of the bombardment of no help from Ethiopian Airlines and the bad attitude (B.A.) from the Egyptian embassy, I knew that Lauran’s and my trip to Nairobi on Thursday would require an extra dose of aggression. But, from where? I’m not necessarily strong enough to take care of this on my own; they hadn’t listened to me before, so why would they now? I considered all my options before deciding on bringing with me the most evil, vile, power-filled man/machine that Africa has ever seen:

Yes, that’s right. Only the villainous Social-Life Terminator could have the cojones to take down an airline and an embassy in one fell swoop. It was on like Donkey Kong.

Three hours later, Lauran had gotten his yellow fever shot, we’d driven by the embassy, and I’d walked out of the Ethiopian Airlines downtown office with two round-trip tickets to Cairo.

It’s official; I’m going. Thanks SLT!

2. “Hey Chris, you should teach government, really! I mean, we have the opening, we need someone to do it, and you’d do a good job… yeah, you interested? You are? PSYCH!” In a lesser sense, this was what happened with my Government class.

On the way back from the Egyptian embassy on Thursday, Lauran, the person who’d unofficially offered me the class, told me that Doug Hartzell, history guru, had already volunteered to take the class. It had apparently been mistakenly assigned to Lauran, while in fact, it was Doug’s baby. He even had the history book’s teacher’s edition that I’d been looking for. So apparently, I’m out of this job.

I’m not too worried though. I have stuff that I do in the dorm, so teaching might take from that a bit. Also, there’s always a chance that some other class might come up that needs a teacher, so I might be able to step in and take that one. Or heck, I haven’t even talked to Doug yet. Maybe Government and I aren’t finished. Only time will tell…

3. “There are two kinds of people in the end; those who say to God ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says ‘Thy will be done.’” – C.S. Lewis in The Great Divorce. I read “The Chronicles of Narnia.” Many times. That’s one of the classic books I treasure from my childhood. As time passed, however, I’ve done a horrible job of reading more of C.S. Lewis’ writings, and I’ve needed an excuse for quite some time to get “back in.”

So with the Narnia movie going to theaters so soon, I’ve the best reason to re-ignite my interest in this department. Elvin picked up the soundtrack to the movie, which features incredible songs by Jeremy Camp, Jars of Clay, Steven Curtis Chapman, and Bethany Dillon (to simply name a few). I also began reading The Great Divorce just yesterday, and although it’s incredibly short, I’ve been burning through the pages as fast as I’ve ever read anything. After this post is done, I think that I’ll spend some time on my bed, finishing up the book. Or maybe just drifting off and finishing it later…

Allright, so that’s what I’m off to do. Tomorrow morning is another Mount Kenya prep-hike, tomorrow night is banquet, and after that’s another sure-to-be-disastrous Chiefs game. Miss ya!

-cw

Neato | Really, FREE college money. Move to Kalamazoo.

2005-11-11T15:52:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - I wish I was from Kalamazoo, Michigan.

The scholarship program — called the Kalamazoo Promise — will cover 100 percent of tuition and mandatory fees for children who have been enrolled in KPS since kindergarten... A partial scholarship will be given to students who enter after kindergarten. For instance, a child who transfers to KPS in third grade would receive a scholarship covering 90 percent of tuition, while a student who transfers in ninth grade would receive a 65-percent scholarship.

That's where I'll be raising my family.

-cw

Observations | The Evil Egyptian Embassy, CURRY, and MAA

2005-11-09T11:54:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT – This morning I woke up to the sound of my ears bleeding.

A few weeks ago, I was looking around on iTunes at new releases when I saw a new version of the Eric Clapton classic “Tears in Heaven.” It was one of those remakes where they donate proceeds to whatever recent, chic disaster occured. This single, for victims of the Asian tsunami, featured artists like Elton John, Rod Stewart, Mary J. Blige, Kelly Clarkson, Josh Groban, and even (strangely enough) Ozzy Osbourne. While it seemed like the bizarre mix of artists (especially when the last one is included), I was optimistic. “Tears in Heaven” is one of the greatest songs of all time. Even Ozzy couldn’t mess this one up. Maybe it’s cool. For 99 cents, it was worth the try. I clicked the “Purchase” button, sealing my doomed fate.

I heard the sounds of pigs being slaughtered, children crying, men gnashing their teeth.

New general rule: Whenever there’s a song done for a charity, and any name that even rhymes with “Ozzy” is featured on the single, DO NOT BUY IT. Remember that sound you used to hate in elementary school, of the chalk screeching on the blackboard? It’s like paying 99 cents for that sound, repeated over and over again, for 3 minutes.

myVote™: *Ears bleeding*

Three Observations:

1. Egytian embassy: We pretty much don’t want you to come to our country. Pretty much… As you might remember from past posts, Lauran Merginio and I have been stuck in the Catch-22 from hell in making this Egypt trip work. Ethiopian Airlines, the cheapest carrier around, can get us there and back for $500ish (taxes included). However, they refuse to sell us tickets until Lauran gets his travel visa from the Egyptian embassy.

Not a huge problem, ay? Nope, not really… until you talk to the Egyptian embassy, who informs you that they cannot, in fact, give a visa until they have an actual ticket to the country.

So yesterday, I snatched control of the whole situation. I e-mail spammed our contact in the Cairo Adventist guesthouse, begging her for an official “invitation” to give to the idiots and the embassy. I phoned Ethiopian Airlines, talked with (and I think “was flirted on by”) a super-friendly customer support lady, who informed me that if we simply brought the ticket claim over to the embassy, they’d accept that in lieu of the ticket. I even called the demon-seeds at the embassy to confirm that they wouldn’t issue us a visa without the ticket, even though we couldn’t get the ticket without the visa.

They hung up on me. I called back and informed them that we’d gotten disconnected. I thought I heard the wench on the other side coughing a laugh back. Whatever.

On our town trip, we made a special excursion to the unpleasant embassy to pick up a visa application for Lauran. I almost got screwed on that one; the embassy, while open all day, only accepts visas from 10am to 12:30pm. However, you can pick up an application outside the gate any time. We get to the embassy, I go to the gate, and I ask for an application.

”Ahm [This is how Africans say “Um”.], we have no mahre. De people are making copies. Cahmn bahck een… ahm… thirty minutes.”

Needless to say, I was furious with these people at this point. I demanded that the guard go inside and find me one copy, because I’d came a long way and had to leave to go back home in just a few minutes (blatant lie). The man unwillingly moseyed inside and came back, minutes later, with a sheet of paper: the application. Even the request for this simple item (a 30-second transaction, at the most) took close to 10-minutes to accomplish. Do you guys hate me? You don’t want to visit your freaking country that bad?

Tomorrow, the saga continues. Lauran and I have to go into Nairobi to get Yellow Fever shots. (I had mine done already, but I am lacking the certification.) We’re also going to go into Ethiopian Airlines to plead with them to let us buy our tickets – otherwise, we’ll never get to go at all! I think there’s even a chance we’ll go back to the embassy to head-butt the witch who hung up on me. Ok, I made the last one up. But still, wish us luck!

2. That curry smell is back. I’ve mentioned before how uneventful and repetitive days off have become. While they’re an incredibly great blessing to have (after 6 days of being surrounded by students), they really blend into eachother now. We pretty much do the same thing we did yesterday: go to Sarit Center (the nicest, most American mall) to pick up school supplies from a textbook center, hit up Nakumatt for all our grocery needs, and stop by some place to either eat or just snack a bit.

Yesterday, our eating establishment of choice was Ashianos, the Indian restaurant. This is the eatery where I first began my curry obsession that led to the “curry-scented body wash” experience. While it’s still a borderline painful experience, spicy-wise, I managed to survive the onslaught of flavor/heat and even enjoy my food. Another adding-curry-into-everything-I-cook festival is coming up…

3. Not just my last year at MAA? The hot new rumor on campus (between the staff, that is) has to do with a meeting we’ll be having on Friday. Apparently, a higher-up of the church is visiting us to just “check up” on how we’re doing. She’ll be looking around the school, interviewing staff, and, most likely, talking to students about their school.

The worry is that this woman is coming to scope out the school and deem us expendable to the Adventist Church, a.k.a. shut down Maxwell. This academy was almost closed down before, after another church official (who apparently takes great pride in doing such Satan-possessed things as removing options for Christian education) “stopped by” to check and see how Maxwell was doing. After he left, he filed a report to the General Conference, suggesting that MAA be shut down. If it hadn’t been for a blitz of letters from Maxwell Academy parents, I wouldn’t be working in this school today.

So after that close call, there’s obvious reasoning to be worried. Higher-ups in the church, like this lady, don’t just visit places “for fun;” they have a mission. Of course, we don’t know the mission. She might want to cut funding, depleting us of one less staff member for next year, or she might want to propose we receive more money. But fresh off the heels of the last threat to the school, the overall feeling for Friday’s appointment is “tense.”

This is another one of those (few) times that I’m not trying to be funny or entertaining. I simply am reporting this so you’ll remember to keep our situation in your prayers. If something happens, it won’t happen now, you know. I won’t be deported, sent back home prematurely, so I’m not in danger.

But this school, that I’m really beginning to love, needs to remain open. Whether the Seventh-day Adventist church recognizes it or not, they have the opportunity to train up its future leaders, right here. If they cut the school out, who’s to tell where the students will end up, what they’ll do, what they’ll become. Please keep Maxwell Academy in your prayers.

Allright, it’s time to “R-U-N-N-O-F-T.” Tonight, I get the opportunity of sitting through song approval for banquet. There’s supposed to be 12 performers showing up, crooning out their disgustingly mushy love-songs, dedicated to their “one-and-only” loves. I’ll bring my own barf bag.

-cw

Observations | LJ, Banquets, and Mail

2005-11-07T11:16:00.000+03:00

BOYS’ DEAN’S OFFICE – You people at home think you love Taco Bell. You think because you go towards the Border Menu a couple times a week over a lunch break, you and TB have a relationship. You think that the occasional desire for a 7-layer burrito constitutes an addiction.

Oh, you don’t know, you don’t know…

Since I’ve got here to Kenya, every care package from home is filled to the brim with candy, Chiefs games on tape, and other goodies. But the absolute first thing I check for is a baggie of Taco Bell sauce packets. These little guys, taken so for granted by you, have become my lifeblood. I truly don’t remember the last time I cooked something in my room without adding at least 2 packets of “TC Sauce,” as my mom calls it, to the recipe. Every day for lunch, I pocket a handful and take them to the cafeteria in the event that we have burritos, ugali, or pretty much anything else lacking a much-needed kick.

It’s not just me, either. Doug Hartzell has two buckets, filled to the brim, with sauce packets. I’ve taken them to lunch before and watch students salivate. One of the kids, a freshman named Hanna, went so far as to take one of my used packets that I’d just squeezed 90% of the life out of and drink from it. Just picture it; she took a seemingly endless packet of sauce, milked the half a drop still in it, and dropped it on her tongue.

You think you love it, and I’m here to inform you that you don’t; you just like it.

For those of us that’ll be going 9 months (at the least) without a Gordita or Quesadilla or Baja Blast or even just a simple burrito (no onions), we know the true meaning of love. When I get back to the States, I promise that the first thing I take a bite of will be a 7-layer burrito. Or I’ll starve until I get it.

Three Observations:

1. A true heart-stopper. I can only imagine what my guys were thinking, peeking around the doorframe, into my office, where their dean sat, earphones turned up at full volume, staring into the computer screen and whispering to himself “Get the first down, c’mon!”

The Chiefs-Raiders game on Sunday might have been one of the most trying, stressful times I’ve had since I stepped off the plane in Nairobi. It was imperative we win, not just because it was Oakland or to save the season, but to save face in front of the whole NFL. The Chiefs have been a mixed-message to the league this year, winning over half their games but still not really playing like a contender. This game was huge.

I suffered through an underwhelming first half in the office, through study hall and most of the hour after lights out. When the announcers announced halftime, I dismissed the RAs, unplugged the laptop, and rushed it back to my apartment as not to miss a moment of Chiefs action.

An hour later, I regretted my decision. After getting up on the raiders 20-9, Oakland came back with a couple touchdowns and a 2-point conversion to go up by a field goal. KC was in dire need of points, and I was in dire need of sleep. Bad combination.

The Chiefs matriculated their way down to the field, finally being stopped with a timeout left on the 37-yard line. With every pass, every penalty, every catch-and-run out of bounds, I hopped up from my computer chair and paced the room. “C’mon guys, you can do this. C’mon…”

On LJ’s 36 yard catch to the one-yard line, I could take it no more. I jumped and hopped, repeating my “KICK THE FIELD GOAL!” advice to Coach Vermeil. I wanted to yell and scream, but Elvin was in bed just a room over. Had to keep it down.

Ball spotted on the one. 5 seconds left. Last real play. TD wins it. Vermeil decides to go for it. Team lines up. Praying for no penalties. The snap… the handoff… the jump…

Touchdown.

I popped up out of my seat, pumping my fist with my right arm, covering my mouth with my left. I don’t remember a more exciting victory, especially considering my game-enjoying circumstances. Go Chiefs.

2. Be my banquet date! With banquet coming up here on Sunday (of my weekend on), there’s be a sudden mad rush of people hooking up as dates for the event. On Sunday, there were apparently 10 couples going together; today, 25 couples.

Hand in hand with that is the fact that at MAA, students typically buy each other gifts rather than corsages. Of course, the girls are already ready, but the guys have yet to shop. So tomorrow, on my town trip, I’ll be responsible for picking up banquet gifts for like 5 guys who “never got around to it” (forgot). They know that if the girl likes the gift, “Mr. Webb picked it up for me,” but if she doesn’t, “I had to buy it myself.”

3. I want mail. There are apparently 4 packages in the mail right now from my mom that haven’t made it to me. Apparently, the USPS says they got to Africa safely – the problem is once they’re here, there’s no telling where they are. Every time I talk to my mom, the first question is “Any packages today?” “Nope, nothin’.” *Sigh* This wasn’t a major observation, you know. Just wanted to let ya know. I’m praying every day for it, so hopefully it’ll all work out soon.

Ok, This is all for now. Later!

-cw

Observations | Government class, SLT, and the amazing blessing that is the Java House

2005-11-06T16:09:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT – I’m pooped.

I did another Mount Kenya prep-hike, and I walked it a lost faster. I set a good pace walking down the hill – fast, but not enough to wear me out – and then struggled back up the hill. Nonetheless, I still finished out strong: 10k (straight down and up – no flat areas) in one hour, 25 minutes.

Because next Sunday is banquet (meaning a required 16-hour hair-preparation festival in the girls dorm and an equally impressive 10-minute Shower/Dress/Spray -cologne-all-over-your-body mad-dash in the guys dorm), Mr. Thomas gave the option of walking this Sunday or last Sunday – either option would work. Me? I need the training. Even though I worked it this last week, I’ll be ready for another dose of sore muscles when 8am on Sunday rolls around.

Three Observations:

1. Teaching – once a dream, now a very possible reality. Is it true? Have the prayers I prayed before I left been answered? Will 2^nd Semester be the debut of “Mr. Webb – The Teacher”?

After Friday night’s Vespers program, Valerie, Honey, Elvin, and I headed down to the Merginio’s place for some brownies, ice cream, and fellowship. We told stories, shared some laughs, and had an overall great time. But what I came out with was an offer by Lauran (my Egypt traveling companion) for next semester.

Lauran is the school counselor, a Bible teacher, a PE teacher, the student-travel liaison, and one of the hostel parents, just to name a few of his jobs. In a nutshell, he’s stacked with responsibilities and still burdened with Government class 2^nd semester. He’d been looking for a way to get out of teaching the class when he heard about my interest to actually have my own class. Match made in heaven?

He brought up the possibility to gauge my interest in taking the obligation from him. Needless to say, I was thrilled. Since I left the States, my biggest goal for the year was to actually be a teacher – run my own classroom, assign homework, do grades, give tests – and now, it looks that I’ll have that chance.

As of now, I’m awaiting the chance to glance through the book and other teaching materials before officially agreeing to it. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not going to say “No” to this chance. I just want to be sure when I say “Yes.”

More to come…

2. SLT strikes yet again. A few days ago, I reported about SLT having to face Alex*, a compulsive line-cutter with an extreme arguing fetish. SLT had grounded the student to sit with him, every meal, for one week, to which Alex* emphatically stated that this wasn’t going to happen. SLT threatened Ad Council, and Alex* encouraged it, thinking they’d be more willing to forgive and forget.

He didn’t think about the fact that if the word insubordination comes up in Ad Council, the first response is “Suspension.”

So later, when I approached him to remind him of this fact, he caved in and solemnly vowed to follow my punishment. Muhahaha…

3. Java. Is. Amazing. After the hike from hell, the Hartzells took us out to Java House at Nakumatt Junction for some B-E-A-U-tiful brunch food. We purposely didn’t ea t a lot for breakfast and nothing after the walk so save up the hunger for Java. After hours of starvation preparation, I dismantled a massive bean burrito and a cup of Kenyan dark coffee in a period of 28 seconds. Holla.

Seriously, the trips that we take to the Java House on Sundays, when we’re off and need to get some super-great breakfast, are going to be something I definitely remember for a long time. As much as I’m looking forward to going home eventually, the memories I’m making here are things I’d never trade in the world.

Ok, that’s all for this edition of The Daily Cowbell. I’m on duty tonight, and I plan on bringing my laptop to the office to listen to the Chiefs game. GO KC!

-cw

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent... or presumed innocent.

Neato | Fart-less beans: once a dream, now a reality.

2005-11-05T17:23:00.001+03:00

NAIROBI, KENYA - Gas is dead; long live the bean burrito!

Dr Colin Leakey - that is his real name - has just produced his first six-tonne harvest of a new strain of South American manteca beans. Dr Leakey, 71, has even developed his own 'fart-ometer' to measure the amount of flatulence produced by manteca beans compared to other varieties. "In physiological and replicated tests, the manteca beans produced no more flatulence than muesli or any other normal (non-bean) grain crop," he said.

I think I speak for anyone who's ever taken a girl out on date to a Mexican restaurant when I say, "Amen."

-cw

P.S.: To Dr. Colin Leaky (Can anyone really say that and not bust out laughing? I mean, he's a friggin' FART DOCTOR!), I pose a question; Where can I, too, get a fart-ometer?

Essay | “Today, I was charged at by a rhino.”

2005-11-05T01:01:00.000+03:00

NAIROBI GAME PARK, KENYA - “Today, I was charged at by a rhino.” Statements like that are things that the normal person cannot say. However, after today’s game-drive adventure, I can now chalk it up on my list of accomplishments.

After church and lunch (potluck brought to yours truly by the wonderful Filipino families up the hill at the Division), the afternoon activities were a choice between a 2-or-3-hour Veggie Tales Marathon or a trip into the Nairobi game park. I, of course, chose the latter.

We got into the park and, within the first 10 minutes, were blessed to see lions. We drove to a section of the park, where if you look off to the right, the front, or the back of you, all you see are tall grasses and sky. If you look off to the right side, however, you see a halfway dried-out river bank, tall trees, and 3 mother lionesses (with their 6, at the least, baby cubs), searching for food.

===

If you’ve never been on a game drive, you don’t understand the hierarchy of animals. It’s common to see half a million zebras walking around the park, pretty much where ever you go. You almost have to try and avoid them. They’re interesting the first few times you see them, but eventually, they become annoying blobs on the landscape that catch your eye just before you realize, “Oh, it’s just a zebra.”

Next come the ostriches. They’re ugly. You try and avoid them, for the most part… unless you’re Valerie and Mrs. Thomas on a game-park day, when you try to find their abandoned nests and ~~ste~~al borrow their eggs. (Thanks again, Val, the egg is AWESOME!)

Following that group, the deer-like animals. Whether their elk, elands, bushbucks, buffalo, hartebeests, wildebeests (which you must purposely avoid in the Mara, lest that’s all you see), antelopes, impalas, or gazelle, they’re cool whenever you see them, good for a few pictures, but not the apex. Even giraffes, as beautiful and graceful as they are, are only good for a few minutes worth of watching before looking at your watch.

The second best things to see are the “big guys:” elephants, hippos, and rhinos. Elephants are my personal favorites of all of the creatures you see; by just observing the way they move, how they respect their women, what they do, you can see how some say they’re the closest relative of humans. Hippos are ugly, but pretty cool because of their size and ability to hide all but their eyes under the water. Rhinos? Well, I hadn’t seen any (until today – more to come…) except from long distances, but they seem to be cool guys. Sure, they’re know to charge at vehicles “threatening” them, pounding their 2-ton bodies into whatever they can, but they’re still an animal you want to get close to.

Ah, but the cats always hush up the entire vehicle. Cheetahs are cool because of their incredible speed, and while I haven’t had the chance to actually see one run, I’ve been told that it’s a breathtaking sight. If you’re fortunate enough to even see a leopard, let alone get a picture of it, you’re an incredibly lucky person.

And if the cats are the straight-flush of safaris – not too likely, but among the best to hope for – then the lions are the royal flush. I don’t know if I’ve ever returned from a drive, or seen someone return from a drive, and the first question asked isn’t, “Did you see lions?” They’re definitely the kings of the jungle, no doubt, as well as the king of the expedition. As long as I’ll live, I guarantee, I’ll never forget seeing my first on that first Nairobi Game Park drive, when the momma and her little cub materialized, before our eyes, on the road in front of us. No words were spoken as the two crept up the path, feet away from our car, before moving safely into the tallgrass to avoid any suspicious movements. The image is burned in me forever.

So while our sight wasn’t as dramatic, it was definitely worth taking the peek. Seeing 3 mothers and more than a half-doze cubs was undoubtedly the highlight of our afternoon.

That was, until I accidentally caught a sight on the way out.

===

We drove around a while, catching loads of deer-like animals, more zebras, and even a few rhinos from quite a ways away. While I was closer to the big one-horned trucks than I’d ever been before, I didn’t want to cross it off my list of “What I’ve Seen In Africa” yet. I wasn’t close enough.

More driving, and finally, it was time to return home. We headed towards the gate and drove quickly, wanting to make it home by Vespers and supper. As we bounced along the road, we beheld more elands and hartebeests, a trillion more zebras, and countless miles of Africa savannah.

As we were about ready to hit the last stretch of road before leaving the park, my eyes wandered to the huge cumulonimbus cloud, hovering miles away behind us in the African sky. The azure sky clashed with the pink and orange radiance of the sun, lighting up the sky into colors I can’t even begin to describe. It was hard to focus on the scene with the things impairing my view, however: tree, tree, stick, tree, branch, tree, giraffe neck, branch…

Suddenly I realized what had just passed my vision. I forced out the words – “Hey, um, animal… uh, a giraffe!” – and the bus slammed to a stop. Mr. Thomas reversed the vehicle, and we all took a moment to admire the gorgeous animal with that incredible sunset behind it. After a few moments of staring, Mr. T started up the vehicle again, and we were off home…

But, again, without warning, the bus smashed all it’s weight on it’s front wheels. I snapped my head around and caught a small glimpse of a humongous rhinoceros, charging towards the automobile’s right side. Being on that side myself, I braced myself for the inevitable thud that would knock everyone out of their seats. However, before impact, Mr. Rhino apparently changed his mind, and he whipped around the other direction, darting into the bushes.

How the scene in the bus changed in seconds. This thing – gray, pure muscle, with an enormous single horn jutting out of his face – couldn’t have been more than 10 feet away from us, running at full stampede. In fear, we had all turned away to avoid the smash. But now that he was heading away, 20 lenses pointed at this colossus’s end-quarters, snapping as many shots as our cameras would allow. What an incredible (and instant) change of thought!

When pulses had returned to normal, the bus started up again, and we pulled through the final gates of the game park. The pit-stop to examine the last two beasts had set us a few minutes late, and we were told to sing some songs in substitution for Vespers. As songs of thankfulness and praise to God floated in the air, I could only close my eyes and whisper my own prayer of thanks to the Lord for all the beautiful sights he’d blessed us with during the afternoon.

-cw

All pictures in this piece, blurry and clean alike, are brought to you by the letters CW.
Translation: I took these myself.

Observations | Sleep (or lack of it), the game park, and SLT version 2.0

2005-11-05T01:00:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT – I don’t know why I’m still awake.

It’s almost 11pm, I didn’t get my traditional Sabbath nap, I’ve been in the sun and outside all day so I’m sleepy, and I have to wake up at 8am (on my weekend off) to go on another blasted Mount Kenya prep-hike. I could use the sleep.

But alas, it’s Saturday night, my kids in the dorm are awake, and here I am, in front of the laptop, about ready to inform you about my adventures for the day. *Yawn* Maybe this will just be a quick one…

Three Observations:

1. This tiredness is really starting to concern me. After sleeping in a little bit extra yesterday morning, I was determined to spend some time awake on Friday afternoon, working on Egypt stuff and some other small things. So when the Sandman dropped by, begging for another 20 minute nap, I knew I’d be ok. After all, I wasn’t tired, and I had stuff to do. This would be quick…

Three hours later, this time, and I wake up. Where’d my day go? I missed time to work on my project, missed supper, and then thought I was about to miss Vespers. I threw on my clothes, ran outside towards the church, and realized I was a half-hour early. Eeeeesh.

I wonder if I’m sick. Or still not adjusted to the time. Or just plain crazy. Or lazy. Or hazy…

2. “Today, I was charged at by a rhino.” This was originally a small point, regarding my trip to the Nairobi Game Park this afternoon. However, after much consideration (and a whole lot more writing), I decided an adventure like this afternoon’s deserves more than a point in Observations. Click here for a wonderful piece, if I may say so myself, on my adventures in the game park.

3. SLT, part II. I knew SLT was about to begin another discipline streak. It happened today, after the game drive. SLT was just exiting the bus, and the supper line was just starting to form. Elvin and his Social-Life Terminator, code named “Dean Webb,” hurried up to the line to get decent food positioning. It looked like an uneventful mealtime run.

That is, until Alex* came around. A notorious “cutter,” he started in the back of the line, doing the little cutter’s dance. When the moment was right, he slipped in, standing right behind Elvin and SLT. At that exact moment, SLT turned around and caught him in the act, and the public argument began.

SLT: Back of the line.
Alex*: No.
SLT: Now.
Alex*: No.

The “talk” went like this for a few minutes, with the SLT experiencing his first stirrings of anger. The anger would increase when the doors opened and Alex* made a bee-line for inside, at the watermelon portion of the serving counter. SLT chased down the perpetrator and pulled him off to the side for a public scolding. That scolding would result in even more attitude from demon-seed Alex*.

SLT stormed off, only to return moments later with his punishment – Alex* would be spending the rest of his meals for the week sitting next to Social-Life Terminator. This was the last straw for Alex*. He remained adamant that he hadn’t committed a crime, and furthermore, insisted that he be brought before not judge nor jury, but Ad Council.

Which SLT sits on.

More to come on this late-breaking story.

Ok, after writing two massive posts, I think it's time to go to bed. Wow, it's 1am. Hope I can get up in... 7 hours.

-cw

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent... or presumed innocent.

Neato | This was MY idea!

2005-11-04T11:55:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - I'm so serious, I've been asking all my guys, "Why don't they make black-people band-aids?" Apparently, they do!

Identity Products Ltd. recently announced the introduction of Ebon-AideTM Brand first-aid strips. Ebon-AideTM first-aid strips come in three different sizes and five shades: Licorice, Mocha, Coffee, Cinnamon and Honey... simply put, "Bandages are getting a new identity" and are now "made in your shadeTM ".

I'm ordering 200 boxes for the dorm, right now.

-cw

Observations | SLT (again), curry-scented body wash, and my domain (that I still don't have)

2005-11-04T10:35:00.000+03:00

BOYS’ DEANS OFFICE – While the weather in Africa isn’t as volatile (yet) as it can be at home, I must say it’s just as impressive.

Since I’ve been here, I think I’ve experienced 3 or 4 real out-of-nowhere rainstorms. You’ll be walking around, enjoying the nice sunny say, walk inside for a few minutes, and hear the sprinkler system hitting buildings outside… but hey, those sprinklers never hit that much. Look outside, and it’s an incredible sight – skies still blue, yet a small monsoon pouring out over the land.

I got to experience another one of these on Wednesday afternoon, while I was on duty. I was sitting at the office computer, writing something, and I’d occasionally peek out the window to make sure all continued to look peaceful. It was a gorgeous scene: the campus’ flowers blooming, sun beaming down, people walking around under a huge blue sky with fluffy, white clouds that looked as if they’d been painted in. I smiled, comforted by the sight, and turned back to my computer. The time was 2:31pm.

Then, out of nowhere, came a rumble so deep I knew it had to either be a massive thunderhead, sitting right above us, or a nearby volcano, ready to assplode. I hopped up from the PC, darted outside, and stared in wonder. The view was exactly the same as before, but now, out of nowhere, raining. The time was 2:34pm.

I found out from one of my students, Aman, that they say whenever the weather’s like this – sunny, pretty, blue skies, and raining – they say a lion is born. If that’s true, I’ve been around for the better part of a feline maternity ward. So cool.

Have I mentioned Africa is awesome?

Three Observations:

1. SLT receives schooling from original SLT. On Wednesday night, Social-Life Terminator performed what might have his first ~~error~~ miscalculation. [NOTE TO READER: SLT doesn’t make errors; He purposely miscalculates to give the enemy a (small) chance.] While supervising the dorm during rec, SLT was not aware of the crimes being committed within striking distance. While SLT did handle the delinquents effectively, he did feel “schooled” in having to be informed of offenses.

First off, the dealing with Luca*, the boy SLT had to nail the other day. Luca* was dorm-bound, as stated earlier, which made his courtship of a certain lady difficult. So what did he do? He sat on the dorm steps with the girl. While technically he was within the dorm/punishment parameters, she wasn’t. Students aren’t allowed to be inside the sidewalk of the opposite dorm (located 20 feet from my door) unless they’re yelling for one of the others to come out. Then, they must talk to the other from the outside of the sidewalk. Luca* was legally on my steps; she wasn’t.

However, this was all out of SLT’s field of vision, so he didn’t know until it was too late. Someone called up the dorm, informing him of the transgression. SLT marched to the scene and “took care of it.”

Moments later, SLT was dealt another misdeed-he-didn’t-know-of: Three guys, at the soccer field, missing out on dorm-bound for a previous offense. SLT had no idea that there were problems with the students, and furthermore, that the guys were out there at all. SLT marched over to the field and arrested the 3, bringing them back to the holding cell that is Tegler Hall.

All in all, another 4 targets tonight, plus a bonus-point girl target. *Wipes hands clean* Just another day…

2. I bought curry-scented body wash. Ok, not really. But man, sure smells like it. I was running low on soap for my showers, and I knew I’d need to pick up some more in town. No problem, I could get more at Nakumatt, so I picked some off on the (uneventful) day off into Nairobi.

Well, since we ate at Ashiano’s, the Indian restaurant, a few weeks ago, I’ve been spicing up Ramen dishes, pasta, tuna, peanut-butter-and-jelly – everything – with small dashes of curry powder. If you’re careful with it, it won’t even burn your throat, and it’s an interesting spice to try out.

The only problem is now that I’ve been eating it more, everything smells like it now. Flowers in the garden, smog in Nairobi, “that smelly smell I smell” in the bathroom: all curry! It got so bad that in the shower, my new body wash required a double-take, just to make sure I got “Manly-man musk” and not “CURRY!”

I need to go on the patch…

3. “www.thedailycowbell.com” will be up… eventually. So I previously bought a domain for the blog, as I reported earlier. But because of the idiots at Dime-a-dozen.com, I was unable to close the deal, and alas, I’m still at this long address.

Just 2 days ago, I took my second shot at the adventure, re-buying it with another company, this time for only $5. However, these idiots don’t support web-address masking, a feature that would let you see “www.thedailycowbell.com” on the address bar. They asked me to confirm my order, also, on a phone number only accessible to the United States. Dummies.

It’ll come soon…

4. ... and heck, just because I haven’t done one in a while, BONUS OBSERVATION: I’m not illiterate! That’s a huge surprise to my millions of readers who really know me. My old bragging line was how I never read, but in the last few months, I’ve polished off all the Dan Brown books, Mario Puzo’s The Godfather, Leon Uris’ Battle Cry, and just last night, Paper Lion.

George Plimpton’s book was just incredibly entertaining to me, and not in a football sense, necessarily. Plimpton just uses great stories, real stories, about the adventures a team goew through in training camp. My favorite story involved a player that wanted to spook the great Dick “Night Train” Lane in the middle of the night, so he put on a Halloween mask, slipped into Lane’s closet, and waited for the star to be asleep. While in the closet, however, the player felt a hot breathing down the back of his neck. He turned around and saw the most ghoulish figure ever, and he ran out of the closet, screaming.

The person in the closet was another player, hoping himself to scare Lane, and when he saw that a huge monster (with a football player’s stature) got into his closet, he got frightened himself and started breathing heavy. The monster in the front ran out (scared), scaring the one in the back to run out of the closet. Meanwhile, hearing all the screaming, Lane wakes up, sees two scary things racing out of his closet, and Lane hops out of bed to get away from these demons.

Plimpton’s version is far superior, of course, but still, the book isn’t so much football as it is about a band of brothers. I completely recommend this to the reading list of anyone who appreciates sports, good writing, or just good stories.

Finally, Friday has rolled around, and Sabbath will be here shortly. I’m not on duty this weekend, so I’ll get the opportunity to sleep in tomorrow, go to the game park for Sabbath afternoon, and kill myself (again) on another Mount Kenya prep-hike. Miss you all!

-cw

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent... or presumed innocent.

Frightening | If you saw one of these in the john, you'd flip too.

2005-11-03T23:11:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - Are you joking?

The [carnivorous] teju is capable of holding its breath for half an hour, which probably explains how it managed to navigate its way through the sewer and up into the family toilet. The family is lucky they looked, rather than sat, first. "The chances are greater that the lizard would have taken a bite out of someone's 'ham', than that it wouldn't have," Akvariet director Kees Ekeli told Bergensavisen.

True story: When I was 11 years old, we took a summer vacation to Dominican Republic and stayed in a resort called Casa de Campo. The villa we stayed in was large enough that my parents, my sister, and I all got our own rooms (with our own bathrooms, too).

Well, one night, I woke up late needing to "do the duty," so I pulled myself out of bed and meandered to the potty. I did the business and sat there a little longer, reading a magazine. It was then I heard a dripping sound coming from under me... and I was "done." I leaned over to look, in between my legs, at the inside of the bowl.

Inside, looking up at me from the bottom of the toilet seat, was a pink lizard, staring up at me.

All I remember from the rest of the trip is running to my parents room, screaming, with my pants down, from the bloodcurdling image that'd just appeared before me. And also, I remember never going back into that bathroom again.

Knock on wood, but I'm horrified the same thing is going to happen here some night. It's scarred me for life.

-cw

PSA | If I die...

2005-11-03T12:26:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - ...it's cuz of what's going on in this article. An excellent primer on what's going on here in Kenya.

As one measure of the difficulties of voter education in a country where a third of adults can't read, the campaigns are organized around symbols -- bananas for yes, oranges for no.

Count me in with the oranges.

An additional, really-good-article is located here.

-cw

Observations | SLT returns, Egypt, Kenya (for real)

2005-10-31T23:06:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT – I just woke up from a two-and-a-half-hour 20 minute nap.

After experiencing the most regrettable combination of “The Green Mile” and “The Longest Yard,” I came back to the dorm to finish working my weekend on. I was a little tired, yes, and my booty hurt quite a bit from the downward hike. I was a little cranky, but really, nothing too bad.

However, I didn’t really know how cranky I was. The grumpiness, now added to hefty doses of tiredness and sore-butt syndrome, increased, and my patience wore very thin. I felt like yelling at students whenever they asked me anything. I didn’t, mind you, but still, I wanted to.

I came back to the dorm after work and decided to lay down, if only for a few minutes. Two hours later, I woke up, shook off the grog, and felt like a new man.

Elvin’s theory is that I suffered from mild dehydration yesterday, and my “sickness” I felt was in fact a lack of fluid in me. I can definitely buy that – on the 10km hike, I only drank a 500ml Nalgene bottle’s worth of water. The sun and heat alone made me sweat about 724ml, plus the whole walking up and down Satan’s hill.

The moral of the story: DRINK WATER. A camelback is currently en route to me, so that’ll help on the next hikes…

(…by the way, now scheduled for the next 2 Sundays. *Sigh*)

Three more observations:

1. Do not taunt SLT. The Social-Life Terminator hasn’t been in the news lately, causing many to wonder if he’s in repair, in refurbishing, or out of commission. Well, wonder no more, readers – SLT is still on the strike.

Latest adventure: A (grumpy) SLT was scolded by his flagball team captain, Luca*, for not wanting to partake in a post-killer-hike flagball all-star game. SLT refused because a) he did not feel up to it, b) he is done caring about flagball, c) he felt it would just be another opportunity for his subjects to critique him on his usage of such horrible vulgarities like “darn” and “gosh”, and d) because it would be all (5) staff vs. students.

SLT did not like the odds. SLT was called a pansy by Luca*. SLT does not like being called a pansy. SLT was taunted.

SLT Rule #1: Do not taunt SLT.

The next day, Three students – Luca* among them – was heard running down the halls, yelling at the top of his lungs. Although SLT was informed by him later that it was excusable (because he was on his way to class), SLT decided to take action. He raised the typical punishment for this crime from pushups and a warning to 3 days dorm-bound.

Do not challenge SLT.

2. I’m going to Egypt… ok, I can’t now… now I can… now I’m… ok I am after all… Through patience and prayer, I might have swerved a possible major setback in my goal of going to Egypt this Christmas. This week, my traveling partner, Lauran, and his wife Arlene announced they were pregnant with their second child. Awesome because their first is the precise copy of an angel, but bad because he knew he needed to stay with her now.

Lauran came to me and told me he thought he’d leave Egypt to come back home to Kenya on the 25^th, not the 30^th. Granted, I understand – who wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with their family, especially when they’re expecting another member. But that would definitely throw off my plan, already cut down from 14 days to 11 or 12 (because of traveling and Sabbaths).

On Sunday, then, I spent a lot of time thinking, wondering what I’d do in this case. Would my parents allow me to stay an extra couple of days alone? Would I have to come back with Lauran? Would this throw off my plans for my trip? I gave it to God and prayed he’d take care of it.

However, before I’d even had the chance to talk to my family, I got the best bad-news ever: Lauran checked on our airlines and found there were no open return flights from the 24^th to the 28^th! Saved!

Again, we’ve still got a ways to go. We need to somehow get accommodations in Egypt so we can have a request sent by them to the Filipino embassy. From there, we’ll have to wait on Lauran’s visa to buy our airline tickets, held until the 6^th of December. And I still am trying to plan out exactly how to get around and what we’ll do. But one miracle down yet!

3. SLT cannot avoid the coup d’etat. In all seriousness, though, it could get a little dangerous here in Kenya. On November 21^st, the country will be having a nation-wide referendum for updates on the constitution. It’s expected to be a big enough deal for the country that demonstrations going on in Nairobi could flare up and turn into riots.

The U.S. government is telling its citizens to register with the embassy so they’ll be informed about what to do if this seemingly mild vote goes wild, as it very well could. Maxwell Academy is far enough outside central Nairobi that if riots were to happen, we probably wouldn’t be touched. Nonetheless, we’re exercising great care and concern here, and all of us are keeping watchful eyes on the vote.

I have no doubt either nothing will happen, or if it does, it won’t come close to where I am. However, I still ask you keep me, my kids, and our school in your prayers for the next few weeks. It could become a troubled time soon, and we need all the help we can get. Thanks.

Ok, I think I’m going to get some rest. All that napping this afternoon wore me out.

-cw

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent... or presumed innocent.

PSA | If you want to really freak someone out...

2005-10-31T23:04:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - As Halloween night is about to go down at home, just a super-comforting, calm observation from the Family Media Guide.

[According to Media Data Corp's research,] MDC found that the most popular pain inducer is impalement – with 419 counts, or nearly 25 percent of the 1,734 total instances. The runners-up are protruding object at 313 and bite injury at 305.

As scary and gross as the subject matter is, this is a really great read. Especially if it's Halloween night, and you hear a knock on your door...

-cw

myVote™ | Real headline of the day: "[Venezuelan President] Chavez: Halloween part of U.S. culture of terror"

2005-10-31T20:02:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - When you're a South American dictator scared out of your mind about getting ousted by the U.S. government, you start going a little... "loco."

Like saying that the real American enemy is a carved pumpkin.

In one odd incident a week ago, authorities found more than a dozen jack-o'-lanterns left in spots around Caracas bearing anti-government messages and what appeared to be bomb-like fuses... Paper skeletons bearing anti-Chavez messages also have appeared in spots across Caracas recently, and government officials have blamed sectors of the opposition with aiming to create chaos.

myVote™: When you're the dictator of a country that many think will be the next the US goes to war with, you should always shut your mouth. Especially when it comes to Halloween. Bush loves his candy.

-cw

Neato | The word according to Snoop, New White-Guy Translation

2005-10-31T11:18:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - For anyone who's ever wondered what the crap rappers are talking about in their songs, here is your chance to finally learn.

Snoop Dogg: On and on and on and on we go
I'll dip you if you want me to
You see I really wanna get a little front wit you, bigidy bump wit you

White guy: She won't stop
Do you want to try chewing tobacco?
I want you to rear end me with your automobile.

Ok, now that that's solved: What does it mean to have "dumps like a truck?"

-cw

Loco | Breaking News: Tooth Fairy not accepting teeth anymore. Finds it gross, biohazardous "body parts."

2005-10-31T10:04:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - Oh c'mon...

"I asked the surgeon for the teeth and was refused. I was told teeth were now classed as body parts and had to be disposed of by the hospital"I explained that my daughter had been excited at the prospect of getting money from the tooth fairy but she just shrugged and walked away."

The only consolation was that it was a British hospital, so the bodily specimins will probably be recycled to give a different Brit a completely ugly grill.

-cw

Observations | Hiking, Snow, Hick Tunes

2005-10-30T22:20:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT – Still another hour and a half until kickoff.

Probably the hardest part of being a Chiefs fan on another continent is the horrible time difference that makes listening to games hardly bearable. Valerie and I thought the game began at 3pm (CST), so we could listen from 11pm to 2am. We made “reservations” to hang out at the Hartzell’s house so Val, cursed with a computer without a sound card, could listen to the victory.

However, I failed to remember the Daylight Savings Time. Correct kickoff, Africa time: Midnight.

So here I am, sitting at my computer, waiting, waiting, and waiting still for the game to begin. I’m going to be so wasted tomorrow morning for dorm worship. Ah well, the price to pay to be obsessed!

Three Observations

1. A hill kicked my butt. Every year, MAA takes a group of students up to Mount Kenya, the tallest mountain in the country, for a couple-day campout and climb to the top. The SMs are traditionally among the mountaineers, and this year, no exception. We’re planning on making our way to the peak for the February hike along with the students.

But before we do, we have to train by going on crack-of-dawn (8am) hikes most Sundays. Today was the first of those hikes. So at 8:30am, we hopped onto school vehicles, drove out to a hill in the middle of nowhere, and began the hike from hell.

Right off the bat, we had to go down the hill. While this seems like a welcomed warm-up, it was, by no means, that. We knew that what goes down must come back up, after we exhausted ourselves on the 5km walk to the low-point of the hill. Then, after putting all that strain on our butts, we had to turn around and trudge back up another 5km, this time straining the calves.

A solid 2 hours later, we boarded the bus again, grateful for the ride back to MAA. I was hot, sweaty, sun-burnt, achy… and satisfied with the exercise I’d gotten for the day. I think we’re off next Sunday, and our next hike will be the 13th. Good chance to rest a while and start it all back up. I’m excited; the goal will definitely justify the work I’m putting into it.

Now, where did I put that aspirin…

2. I still hate the snow, but… I’ve been talking to my parents and uncle lately about our annual ski-trip to Breckenridge, Colorado, and I’ve come to realize something; I’m not going to see snow for a year. At all.

Oh, there’s some snow here – on top of Mount Kilimanjaro, where Elvin, Valerie, and other MAA staff will be for Christmas break. But I’ll be far away, hanging out on the Red Sea with Pyramids in Egypt. Otherwise, there’s none, anywhere.

I’m not missing it, mind you, and I won’t miss it, no matter what. I loath every flake that falls from the sky, especially when driving a Volkswagen Beetle – you feel every inch of ice. But how strange, that something I’ve grown up around won’t be here. At all. Weird.

3. And speaking of that… What about country music? I’m not going to be able to hear any country music for another 6 months, huh? This might not seem to a big deal to you, but to a guy who’s having problems coming up with a third point for his Three Observations thing, it’s a valid enough thought to merit a point, right?

Ok, I think I'm done here. I've got a couple more hours of pregame to listen to. Let me, before I go, again say hello to everyone at home. I miss you all, I love you, and I pray that you're keeping me in your prayers.

And again, let me reiterate: chrisw@maxwellsda.org. It's not just a hint anymore, it's the new "in-phrase." Rumor has it that all the cool kids in New York and LA are saying it to all their friends.

How about this: next time someone sneezes, instead of saying "God bless you," say "chrisw@maxwellsda.org." That way, it serves a dual purpose. If enough people do it, it'll totally be accepted.

I’M OUT!

-cw

Observations | THE COMEBACK EDITION

2005-10-29T17:33:00.000+03:00

BOYS’ DEAN’S OFFICE – So the curse of “Chris sucking at flagball” hasn’t wore off.

After qualifying for the MAA Flagball Playoffs with a 2-5-1 record, we lost in our first and only game, to the (gross) Broncos team. The loss was especially painful because we’d dropped both games to them, with close margins, but this game, we got smoked. Not even close.

My biggest complaint about this season was the horrible refereeing that took place when we were to play. Only the obvious, you’ve-gotta-call-that-since-my-teammate-is-bleeding penalties were noted by refs. Elvin felt that the lack of fairness had something to do with 3 faculty members being on the same team, and I’d agree. While I had the honor of listening to students drop vulgarities all over the playing field, I got nailed with a 10 yard unsportsmanlike conduct penalty for yelling “OH MY GOSH, YOU’RE NOT GONNA CALL THAT EITHER?” after my teammate was straight-up shoved over on a pass rush. And I got lectured by a student about not using “profanity.” (Is “gosh” profanity? I could have said a lot worse…) And then that student, my teammate, tattled to the dean, my boss, about my “cursing” on the flagball field. And then I got harassed for the next few days for saying “choice words.”

By students that feel that the N-word is appropriate for everyday, classroom use.

Ah well. Coulda been worse.

Three Observations:

1. I could definitely feel the love… and see it… and hear it… Tuesday’s town trip wasn’t too eventful, again. We ran into town and picked up some school supplies from Sarit Center, and tested out a new eatery, Restaurant Havana. (myVote™: They had tostones. The food was overpriced, the ambience was mundane, and the servers were incompetent. But they did have tostones… A-.) Yet another boring, we’re-just-going-into-Nairobi-again town trip.

However, there was one thing we tried out, different from ever before: the Snake Park. Right off the Museum Hill roundabout sits this reptile-zoo, exhibiting the leeeezards and slithery things of the country. While Valerie and Elvin skipped from one creepy-crawler to the next, Honey and I just stayed back and… appreciated the little beats from a safe distance.

Little did we know, however, that we were to see a more horrifying sight than any other from the day. We walked past the turtle area, glancing at the little guys running around, when suddenly, Honey turned the opposite way she was facing, closed her eyes, and breathed “Oh, oh… look.”

I peaked behind her to see two turtles near each other. The back one looked like he had partially climbed on top of the other, and he was panting with his mouth open…

It took me a solid 10 seconds to get what “they” were doing.

Of course, as disgusting as it was, we had to stand there and watch for another 10 minutes, cracking jokes the whole time. I have (rated R) pictures, with my fellow staff looking in on the tortoise sex-fest, red-faced and laughing at the sight. For the sake of my younger readers, I won’t be posting the pictures. But if you email me, requesting them…

2. But the question is, can I write enough of these to make into a book? You might have noticed the 5 “Worship” posts I did this week. As I explained as a preface to each of them, every staff member is assigned to lead a week’s worth of staff worships, both semesters. This week, Pastor Webb was the one up to bat.

I’d known about this week since the very beginning of the year, and still, I procrastinated the writing of them until the morning of the worship. Luckily, I hadn’t delayed in my theme. My worships looked into the 5 ways that God reveals himself to us: through His nature, His Son, His providing, His law, and His word. Even though I’d waited until literally 10 minutes before our meeting was to start to finish, I still feel like I did a pretty good job with my thoughts.

When I was first bouncing around the idea of preaching a sermon here, I’d made the mistake of telling it to Elvin. He’s been “encouraging” me to really volunteer for it and make it happen. While I still feel like it’s not really going to happen, why not? I’ve talked in front of the guys a million times, and thrice in front of the ladies. Now the faculty have heard me talk to them. Is it really time? Hmmm…

3. Leg-go my Egg-o. While I was undoubtedly napping or doing something useless online on Thursday, Valerie went with the Thomas’ on their weekly trip into the game park. While they were there, they had a great time thieving wild animals of their young… kind of.

Apparently, in the last few weeks, they’d found some abandoned ostrich nests with eggs in them, and they were tired of going past them and not getting any. So this last Thursday, Val and Mrs. Thomas hopped out of the car into the wild (where there were probably a million and a half lions watching and salivating), grabbed handfuls of eggs, and ran back in the vehicle. You’ve heard of stealing candy from a baby? Well, this was stealing babies from a mama. Much more risk.

They brought the eggs (a little narrower than a football, but much shorter in length) back to campus and excitedly called up Elvin and me on the phone, offering us one of their prized captures. We ran over to their house to help out with the emptying-eggs process.

It’s legal to bring ostrich eggs back into the ‘States – just crazy. And gross, if they crack open on the flight. So to minimize nastiness, we take an electric drill, put a small hole in one end, then a larger hole in the other. Then we tilt it over onto the big-hole end and empty out all the nasty on the inside. Once all of that is out, rinse out the little guy, pull out the membrane/skin on the inside of the egg, add some bleach-water to radically improve the scent, and walla! Ostritch Egg!

The first time I saw this done, it didn’t go as textbook-well as I described. We drilled the top of the egg and watched it spout yellow, rotten-scented nasty out its top. The, when the big hole was drilled and we tried to drain it out, it came out it brown, yellow, and sometimes red clumps into the bucket underneath us. And the smell, sweet mercy! Think of the most rotten eggs you’ve ever sniffed in your life, and triple it. It as a miracle I didn’t throw up in my own mouth.

Another time, we emptied everything out and felt there was still something in it. We peek in and saw that there was a partially-developed ostrich chick, maybe an inch and a half long, on the inside. Mr. Thomas, the adventurer he is, pulled out the body parts, piece by piece, with a pair of hemostats.

On the very next egg, there was a chick so big that they had to break it open to see. It was almost full-aged, ready to hatch. When we looked at it, we could see its beak, it’s legs, its wings – even a few hairs that looked to become feathers on day. Sad…

My egg went almost perfectly. We emptied it out without flaw (and hardly any stench), I cleaned it out, and now, it’s sitting on my shelf, thanking me for giving it an inside-out bath. Thanks, Val, for the great souvenir!

I apologize for not doing a very good job of keeping my blog update in the last week, at least with Observations and other things (besides links). I was very distracted by the worship thoughts I had to do. I’ll definitely do better from here on :) Miss you all. I’m begging you; please, please, please, keep emailing me! Bye!

-cw

Neato | I've ALWAYS been brilliant.

2005-10-28T14:21:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - I completely forgot about this story, and was reminded about it while chatting with my mom this afternoon.

Anyways, I was reminded of a time when you were about 5 or 6 yrs. old. In Russell. do you remember Mrs. Cook?... well she was having class that day and she went around asking all the kids about Halloween, and as usual, you were always ahead of yourself... you kept raising your hand, and she just ignored you on purpose, because she said you always had something just to clever to say...anyways, everyone said what they thought Halloween was about, candy, customs, and everything else, so she just went on and on letting everybody talk before you, and finally she said: "ok Chris, what do you thing Halloween is about"? and guess what you said: “It’s a pagan holiday sponsor by the American Dental Association" she said she just stood there frozen, because this was just what she was afraid you would come up with! So funny, do you remember that? You traumatized that poor teacher! She called me at home just to tell me that! The whole school staff just thought it was so funny... When I tell people that story, they always say, "Yeah, that's Chris all the way."

Such a smart kid, since the very beginning.

-cw

PSA | Making up for lost time.

2005-10-28T13:05:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - Back posts! Sorry I've been so bad lately,

Sat. Night - Observations | Magadi, "The Gods," and Egypt
Sunday - Observations | SPECIAL FIRST-QUARTER EDITION

More to come for the week!

-cw

Worship | Reporting from the King's Court...

2005-10-28T09:29:00.000+03:00

Every day at 8:30am, Maxwell staff spend a few minutes together worshiping the Lord. Every week, a different faculty member is assigned to the week's worships. This week, it's "Mr. Webb's" turn. I'll be publishing my worship thoughts to the site every morning (hopefully). Today's worship: God reveals his self to us through His word.

STAFF MEETING ROOM - There are 3 major signs of good journalism: solid fundamentals, clarity, and accuracy. Across the globe, people in my future field are preached to and preached to again about making these the 3 points that govern our lives. An ok writer does one really well, a good one, perhaps to. But only the best of the best, the cream of the crop, will have mastered all three.

Stephen Glass, who worked for The New Republic from 1995-1998, was a young man who came incredibly close to the trifecta. His writing fundamentals were second to none – his co-workers at TNR loved editing his articles. His grammar was perfect, his composition flawless, and his usage, across the board, was on par with some of the great writers of the last few decades.

And his clarity, brilliant. Glass had the ability to take a scene like the Republican National Convention and describe it, leaving you feeling like you’d just walked through it yourself. His sentences would meander at a slow pace, purposely, not to confuse the reader, but he wasn’t bland, by no means. He’d take his audience with him one direction, then pull the mat from under them, leaving them momentarily confused, then giving way to pure intrigue. Glass was as close to being a master as anyone.

But, on May 8^th, 1998, Stephen Glass was fired from The New Republic. His crime: fabricating a recent article. Fact-checking on his piece “Hack Heaven” had proven to be an impossible task, as the only source to check facts off of was the journalist’s own notes. The New Republic had to act fast to save face, and Glass was immediately released from the magazine because of his alleged forgeries.

Harsh? Accusations of inaccurate pieces can destroy any publication – remember the New York Times? – and TNR had to do what it had to do. It looked, from the outside, like a very aggressive reaction by the paper. But when news of Glass’s other phony pieces came out, it explained a whole lot more.

In a nutshell, Stephen Glass, the almost-master who had nailed down fundamentals and clarity, forgot the most important characteristic of good writing: accuracy. Of the 41 articles he’d written for TNR in 3 years, 6 had been completely fabricated, 21 had been partly, and many more were still suspected. Glass had smashed the cardinal rule of journalism, and since his firing in 1998, his only work in the field have been a few, isolated free-lance articles (about ethics in journalism, ironically).

Oh, and he got paid 6-figures to write a “fictional” book about a journalist named Stephen Glass who fabricated over half of his professional articles. And he was given a hefty royalty when that book was made into a movie, Shattered Glass. But the name Stephen Glass is stained now, and without a doubt, he will never work in journalism again.

Isn’t it nice to know we’re not in the same situation with our ultimate handbook? The Bible’s President/CEO/editor-in-chief, God, has released a statement in His book, verifying that everything we will read is accurate.

¹⁶Every part of Scripture is God-breathed and useful one way or another--showing us truth, exposing our rebellion, correcting our mistakes, training us to live God's way.

¹⁷Through the Word we are put together and shaped up for the tasks God has for us. (2 Timothy 3:16-17)

His word is here to guide us, to tell us what he likes, to tell us what he doesn’t, to tell us what he expects, to tell us what he wants for us. He reveals his traits, his character, his personality, not so we’ll know he’s willing to destroy a country if it displeases him, but so we’ll know him. He wants to be close to us, and since he can’t (or won’t) appear physically in front of us, he does it the closest way he can: through his word.

Ok, so God dictated how much he loves us; how do we know the reporting was accurate. Scripture again verifies this fact.

²¹It's not something concocted in the human heart. Prophecy [and let me expand that to everything else in the Word] resulted when the Holy Spirit himself prompted men and women to speak God's Word. (2 Peter 1:21)

He’s fact-checked what was written, and it has his stamp-of-approval; the “embedded reporters” who spent time in the Lord’s presence got the written description of our Heavenly Father dead-on. His word is arguably the best way that our God has revealed to us who he is. Are we reading it?

Today, as the Sabbath nears, I challenge you to take some extra time to look at the part-biography/part-autobiography of our Father. It’s calming, it’s enlightening, it’s accurate. And it’s a good read.

-cw

Kudos | College Cost Calculator

2005-10-27T23:18:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - Way to be for CNN Money.com. They've developed an interesting way to check on tuition prices across the US.

Notable schools*

Southwestern Adventist University (Keene, TX) - $ 11,568
Atlantic Union College (Lancaster, MA) - $12,000
Southern Adventist University (Collegedale, TN) - $ 12,990
Union College (Lincoln, NE) - $ 13,380
Andrews University (Berrien Springs, MI) - $ 15,050
Columbia Union College (Tacoma, MD) - $15,433
Walla Walla College (College Place, WA) - $17,655
Pacific Union College (Angwin, CA) - $ 17,934
George Washington University (Washington, D.C.) - $36,400

-cw

*Prices listed are only tuition, based upon cnnmoney.com. La Sierra University and Loma Linda University not listed on the site. Data accurate for Winter 2005.

Neato | They've reached the apex: the new iPod/Treo/Phone

2005-10-27T22:32:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - Finally, Palm and Apple have combined to form one all-encompassing device, capable of making cell calls, organizing information, and listening to great tunes.

Despite its basic lack of structural integrity, this device combines the best of the two most popular gadgets in the world.

Just amazing. Can't wait to see the iPod Video/Motorola Razor/XBox 360/Gilette Electric Razor coming out soon.

-cw

Loco | 162 wives down; where's #163?

2005-10-27T13:22:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - P.I.M.P. (acronym) 1. Playaz Illegally Marketing Prostitutes, 2. Player Into Making Progress, 3. this guy.

He told a local newspaper: "I'm still very popular with the ladies. At the moment there are two I could choose from... and I've heard one of my ex-wives also wants me back."

I applaud you, Mr. Ilincic. I can't pronounce your name, but I applaud you all the same.

-cw

Neato | Women, explained in mathematics

2005-10-27T09:13:00.000+03:00

MY APARTMENT - My Uncle David sent this little golden nugget.

Awesome.

-cw

Worship | The speeding ticket that wasn't (but almost was)

2005-10-27T08:54:00.000+03:00

It was the beginning of the summer after I graduated, and I hadn’t a job. At all. I did have a job the week before, but my boss, a born-again Nazi, didn’t feel it necessary to train me in how to clean and refurbish electronics. “You’ll figure it out, eventually,” he’d said.

Well, at the end of two weeks, I hadn’t figured it out. I’d broken VCRs, ruined car CD player pickups, and zapped myself countless times on televisions. My boss called me into his office, lectured me on how I should have learned on my own how to do something he promised to teach me in my interview, and let me go… permanently. My head, still smoking from the jolt of a TV, seemed to mirror my feelings.

But thankfully, it was the beginning of summer, and I still had time to look for a quick job. I explored the job market in Junction City, Kansas, finding few opportunities. Mowing the lawn at my old academy was an option, as was working grounds at the hospital. While those two options would work, I kept looking, praying for the diamond-in-the-rough job that no one had applied for.

And then, I found it. Cracker Barrel, one of my family’s favorite restaurants, was looking for servers, and I jumped at the chance. I called them up and was surprised to hear that they could interview me right then. An applicant hadn’t shown up, and they had an open spot. “Drive over as quickly as you can,” they’d said.

And I did. I hopped in my Batmobile, my 1998 red Volkswagen New Beetle, and dashed towards the restaurant. I dodged around two-lane traffic, accelerated on yellow lights, and performed rolling “California stops” on every Stop sign I saw. Time was running out…

As I turned onto the last road, I could see my goal up ahead. I rushed down the street and was about ready to pull into the parking lot when I saw a sight that made my skin crawl: there, in my rearview mirror, red and blue flashing lights. I slammed my forehead against the steering wheel and pulled over to the side of the road. It was only then I noticed the road sign, halfway behind a bush, laughing in front of me: Speed limit enforced by radar.

Long story short, I had only been going 7 miles over the 20mph speed limit, and I got off with a warning. I was late for the interview, but it didn’t matter. They had already found the person they wanted and were simply going through the motions with me. I pulled myself off my chair, shook the managers hand, and headed for the car with my double whammy – 0 jobs, 1 almost-ticket.

Was I in the wrong with driving 27mph down the road? It depends on what road I was on. Down a normal city street, I’m perfectly obeying the law. Down my street I got nailed on, going way too fast. Down the highway, I’ll get pulled over for going too slow. It’s the same speed, but different outcomes.

How was it that I broke the law, but the other 99% of drivers out there didn’t? They probably felt, instinctively, that this was a slower road. Most of the traffic eked along, and our surroundings were wide-open, so a cop could pop out of his hiding place to hit you with a penalty. Had I not been in a hurry, had I had my mind on the road and not on other things, there never would have been any trouble.

Built in all of us is an automatic-speed limit detector, put in by God. It doesn’t matter if you’re from Kansas or Kenya, Manhattan or Micronesia, you still feel the same law, right and wrong. God instructs all men with the law he placed on their hearts

¹⁴When outsiders who have never heard of God's law follow it more or less by instinct, they confirm its truth by their obedience.

¹⁵They show that God's law is not something alien, imposed on us from without, but woven into the very fabric of our creation. There is something deep within them that echoes God's yes and no, right and wrong. (Romans 2:14-15)

God has given us a built-in lawbook. If we hang onto it, we’ll benefit greatly. Or as it’s written in Job 27:6,

⁶I'm holding fast to my integrity and not loosening my grip-- and, believe me, I'll never regret it.

Today, I challenge you to try and notice when you make a gut-call: when you do something right, just because you know it’s right. It’s not in Bible, necessarily, or the constitution or the handbook, but you still know it’s what Jesus would do.

Loco | Doctor to Patient: "I'll see your baby when I'm done unicycling."

2005-10-27T06:59:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - It's nice to wake up to stories like these and begin the day with a laugh.

"We had been asking for someone to see James [the baby] for two hours and we had even told the doctor that he probably shouldn’t be [uni]cycling around in case he hurt someone."

Good call to Fark.com for catching this one.

-cw

Loco | McRedesign? I'm not lovin' it.

2005-10-26T20:49:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - You've got to be joking.

Owners Jerry Wernau and partner Mark Kramer are hoping that the $300,000 remodel of their McDonald's at Scottsdale and Thomas roads will turn the space into "the four-star restaurant of the fast-food arena." "A McDonald's opened in Denver with flat-screen plasma TVs," [McDonald's regional spokeswoman Carolyn] Gust said, "and some of the stores in the West and Southwest have fountains, gas fireplaces or leather sofas."

Yet, for some reason, I know that if I ask a girl out to a nice dinner and take her out for a Big Mac, I'll get slapped. My Vote: McStupid.

-McCW

Neato | I didn't know people loved Jell-O this much.

2005-10-26T15:54:00.000+03:00

BOYS' DEAN'S OFFICE - May I now present San Fransisco, recreated in gelatin.

Wow. Just wow.

-cw