Salehe, Me and UVa Cap

Jacqueline Novograt’s The Blue Sweater in many ways was the final push for me to come to Africa.  But I never imagined I would have my own “Blue Sweater” moment.  Go here to read more about it!

The goal is to read a book set in every country I have been to.  And while I feel the strongest desire to start reading a Tanzanian novel, I have decided to begin at my life’s beginning…

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Shanghai Girls

My first book is Shanghai Girls by Lisa See. It is a story about Pearl and May,  two sisters living the life of “beautiful girls” in 1930s Shanghai.  Their world of extravagance and elegance initially hid the signs of impending war and death looming over the city, but  eventually life as they knew it collapsed around them.  The story follows the sisters through their escape from the Japanese, detainment at Angel’s Island to their attempts at reconciling the tragedies and secrets of their lives. 

I hesitate to read Chinese books penned by American Chinese authors.  They taste like General Tsao’s chicken… edible but unauthentic.  They are heavy with stereotypical Chinese myths, too much for my palate but perhaps stimulating to a foreigner‘s tongue.  I vowed myself never to read such a book again after suffering through Joy Luck Club and its endless tales of bounded feet, losing face and zodiac signs. 

Another qualm I have is that in these books the author always moves their protagonist to the US and write about the struggles of assimilating into a foreign culture.  My grandparents never escaped and thus my parents were  raised in China, and it would haven been refreshing to have read a novel that told the stories behind China’s Iron Curtain.

Yet, no matter how cliched some elements of the book may be, there is no denying the existence of tremendous tragedies in 20th Century China.  This book serves as a stark reminder of how fortunate my generation is and in that sense, Shanghai Girls was a worthwhile read.

But it is the warmness of the people that I find most appealing.  Perhaps bright lights and big cities have hardened me, because I find myself charmed by the bright smiles and big hearts of this country.  Harmony is not easy to achieve in a continent that has suffered through so many tragedies. But Tanzania, a melting pot of various ethnic groups, is relatively free from the tensions that plague so many other African nations.  This is partly due to the beloved Julius Nyerere, who won Tanzania’s freedom from the Europeans and became her first president. He tore down old ethnic and social divides and rebuilt the nation upon the notion of equality and unity:

“In Tanzania, it was more than one hundred tribal nits which lost their freedom; it was one nation that regained it.”

However, living with a Tanzanian family has helped me open my eyes to the everyday plights of  the people. It is hard to romanticize about a place, however stunning and exotic, when blackouts, water shortages and two hour traffic jams are real and frequent.  But I fully appreciate the authenticity of the experience, because it is so easy as a Muzungu (foreigner, usually a white person) to see half the story.

And so, it is against this backdrop of breathtaking visuals, humbling hospitality and demoralizing realities that I will carryout my fellowship…

ps. here is my first blog for Kiva

It is always exciting to visit the country and see the collision of old and new…how global influences are weaving themselves into the fabric of China’s ancient culture.  But I’m also always hesitant. In the space between all those years of my absence, lies a sense of guilt over the distance that is separating me and my relatives.

I remember when my family – my maternal grandparents, paternal grandmother, great grandmother, uncle, aunt, cousin, dad, mom and me- all lived together in a stone house with three floors.  But in the 20 years since I had left, our lives have grown worlds apart… I have grown apart.  Now, it almost seems impossible to fill the gaps.  Nuances, jokes, revelations… they often get lost in the translation of foreign experiences, especially ones that span 5 continents over 2 decades.

This has always been my one grievance over relocation.  And, as I head off to Tanzania, I cannot help think of the family and friends I am once again parting ways from….

I headed to Xiamen the next morning, where my dad currently works. The city lies in the south and as such, was much warmer than I had anticipated.  I spent a few days catching up on a lot of sleep and seeing the nearby island of Gulang Yu (Piano Island). 

In Shanghai, I was able to meet up with most of my relatives over – you guessed it – dinner.  Nothing beats a large Chinese meal around a round table.  I was also really glad I was able to touch the piano and finally learn my favorite song from the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack. On my last day, I met up with Christina and Erik for lunch.  It was interesting to get their take about living in a foreign country.

Overall, the whole trip has been a needed change from the monotony of the last three years.  Partly due to my packed schedule, partly due to the fun I’ve been having… It feels like so much has happened in the last three weeks… Charlotte, Miami, San Deigo, LA, SF, Vancouver, Beijing, Xiamen and finally Shanghai… 

And as this journey ends, the next advenure is about to begin…

But there is no allure of a place like that of its people and so I have to thank Serena and Kenley for making my trip to the city perfect. 

Over spicy Korean food, friends caught up on old memories and new dreams.  Serena and I also cycled around Stanley park, soaking in the beauty of a lazy Canadian afternoon.  

The trip completely changed my preconceptions of the city. My memories where of dull shopping malls and monotonous suburban houses, but I am now amazed by the vibrancy of the streets and its people. Yet the people never fail to maintain a sense of calm about their way of life and the city is enveloped by a freshness that is found wanting in most urban cities.

On Sept 21st,  49 individuals came together in SF to begin the training for a  journey.  These individuals could not have been more different but for a desire they all shared. This desire is to engage themselves in the grassroots movement that is Kiva.  These 49 comprise the 9th class of Kiva Fellows (KF9) and will be spread across South America, Africa, the Middle East, Central Asia and Southeast Asia.  And I have the honor of being a part of this group. 

Like fellows before us, we have agreed to journey out onto the field to collect invaluable stories about the Kiva borrowers.  These stories can not be underestimated. They are the threads that tie the young Kiva community together and the source of transparency that many NGOs fail to provide.   

However, the role of the fellow extends far beyond storytelling. For the past week, we have undergone sessions about the many deliverables needed to be accomplished at our respective MFIs. For example, some tasks include revamping  journal updating procedures, verifying borrower information, and carrying out miscellaneous projects for the MFI.

The weeklong training laid the groundwork of what is to be expected of us.  But it was also an opportunity for the group to get to know each before heading for our separate ways.  For myself, I will be placed in Tanzania, one of only two who will be there. I’m extremely fortunate for the inspiring opportunity to the meet the Kiva staff and fellows.  By the end of the week, we were no longer 49 individuals, but KF9.

We made our way up the sunny state and found ourselves at the home of Mike’s relatives.  Our wonderful hosts (and their four colorful dogs) definitely made a impression on me.  Without delving into details, I realized that though I am dreaming of big plans in Africa,  the kindest acts can be done at home and be surprisingly simple in concept.

A day later we were in SF.  I’ve always enjoyed its hilly streets and how the breeze carries with it a heavier scent of “aquatic life” (think clams and seaweed).  Unfortunately, this is where Mike and I had to part ways.  Him back to The City and me off on my new path.

The story behind the title is enough for anyone to go “AHA”.  When she was a young girl, her uncle gave her a blue sweater that had a picture of Kilimanjaro in front of it. When she eventually outgrew it, it was donated to the local salvation army. It would have it that the journeys of  Novogratz and the blue sweater would eventually cross path a decade later in Rwanda – She, jogging along the dusty roads …It, covering the small frame of an African boy. 

The memoir is inspiring and raw.  From Rwanda to Rockefeller Foundation, Novogratz opens our eyes to a new approach on an old problem. Yet, she makes no compromises for the failures and tragedies that occured during her career.  It’s a great read, for anyone  interested in social enterpreneuership. It’s a must read, for those who have just taken their first step into this field.

The three days spent in sunny Miami was bliss. After an incomprehensibly chaotic week, it was nice to have a few days to laze around on some really pristine beaches. On land, Mike and I tore down South Beach on our little black beast of a scooter. At sea, we explored the sapphire waters with our snorkels. What really hit the spot was meeting up with Thai… on his bday no less! We celebrated with juicy steaks and Miami margaritas that dwarfed our faces. Too relaxed to write so I’ll let the pictures do the talking…