and all that is to say that work is boring. always. i had dinner with philipp, my boss at credit suisse last night, and i found out that i don't miss it. not the politics. not the ass kissing. and definitely not...hmmm...did i mention politics? legally, i'm not allowed to work yet (shhhh!), which is to say, i'm not getting paid. ooof. and even when i do get paid, it will be measily compared to my last salary. but meh, i can't live on the $10 daily allowance that jon's giving me. i'm just not that low maintenance (and public transport costs a pair of limbs in london). so for now, i'm working 3 days a week, not getting paid, and hoping that eventually, i'll get a spousal visa for the uk. until then, who knows.
7.29.2009
back to the grind
it's my second day of work today, which for me, means getting back to a routine, finding more reading material for the tube (stat!), learning to use a mac, and giving up my daytime tv (b/c all my tv channels are owned by the british gov, there are always pairs of stations that play the same thing: e4, e4+1, channel 4, channel 4 + 1, virgin, virgin+1, etc etc. as you can imagine, the +1's just play the same programming an hour later. i've been known to watch the same gilmore girls episode 2 hours in a row. their quirky gab is irresistable (and infinitely preferable to the unscripted gobbledygook of big brother). for you, it probably means more frequent blog posts.
7.16.2009
mombasa
we stayed at ash's mom's timeshare resort, which had its ups and downs. the luxury was refreshing--private bathrooms, air con, mosquito nets, but it felt like a resort in florida, not africa. people were there with their families, old ppl populated the pool...and we were warned in the orientation meeting to stay away from the beach boys. so, the typical resort experience was very sterile. you flew in, got picked up at the airport, and joined the water aerobics and putt putt sessions. but we had our own car. we were free to go as we pleased. still, it was depressing to see the masai huddled in the tennis court, roasting in the sun as old tourists in sunhats picked thru their trinkets. watching the tribal dancers brought in for a post-dinner show felt very voyeuristic. they rumbled in, gyrating to local gods, while we sat sipping colorful drinks and clapping politely. maybe if we could've joined them in their ritual...but just watching, knowing they had been paid to come in, well, it was unsavory...like we had displaced their gods and they were dancing to us. dirty.
most of the time we lounged at the pool or the beach. the beach wasn't nearly as nice as zanzibar's. in low tide, there were miles of not quite beach...mucky black sucky sand and pools of brackish water. to get anywhere swimmable required walking over a mile out. we did manage to squeeze in a very nice beach walk with the beach boys (who prefer to be called beach operators to escape the sexual griminess associated with the term beach boy). they showed us lots of interesting sea life (urchins, starfish, slugs), and took us to a coral rock pool that was deep enough to dive into. we brought snorkeling equipment and got a nice peek at the stripey fish that huddled in the coral to escape the surf. i did an ok job of not getting bashed into the coral, but i think erika got scratched up pretty badly. she bruises like a peach, that one.
and then we ran into mika, mika, and morgan! what are the chances? small world, all that jazz. i mean, i understand that most travelers thru africa follow the lonely planet, but we were off the path beaten down by backpackers. we were in a posh timeshare resort...and so were mika, mika, and morgan, courtesy of mika's mom, as a honeymoon gift to mika (the other one) and morgan. not only where they in the same resort, they were in the room right next to ours, which came in handy when we locked ourselves out and had to break in via our balcony.
remembering that mika's dad is a mechanic, we had him look at our car, which translated into driving the car to market with a carload of ppl, which meant that i got to ride on the roof :-D. i've always wanted to ride the roof of a 4x4, and what better place to do it than africa, where my safety was no one's concern but mine. we bumped along the dirt road as i held on for dear life to the roof rack. when we got to the major road, we sped up, turned up the kings of leon, and i leaned into the wind and took advantage of the speed bumps to wave at the catcallers who yelled, "hey cheeeeena!". FREEDOM!
that night, we bought some prawns from the beach boys and made ash's spicy red prawn curry, along with garlic+lemon stringbeans, and a huge cucumber, tomato, avocado salad. as usual, we made way too much food, but luckily, gerwin was stoned off his face, so we put away a good deal of it. the ants had their way with the leftovers.
Another memorable meal was when we got the beach boys to throw us a moonlight seafood bbq. to be honest, they oversold it a bit, promising us lobster, kingprawns, fish, and crabs and delivering only octopus, barracuda, and prawns, but the home made coconut wine, the excellent curry, and the great ambiance under the stars made up for everything. i told them i liked sea urchin, so they picked a few of those for me too. we literally cracked them open and ate them raw...which was sandy and salty, and not quite the uni-like experience i had hoped for. did i mention the curry was to die for?
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
most of the time we lounged at the pool or the beach. the beach wasn't nearly as nice as zanzibar's. in low tide, there were miles of not quite beach...mucky black sucky sand and pools of brackish water. to get anywhere swimmable required walking over a mile out. we did manage to squeeze in a very nice beach walk with the beach boys (who prefer to be called beach operators to escape the sexual griminess associated with the term beach boy). they showed us lots of interesting sea life (urchins, starfish, slugs), and took us to a coral rock pool that was deep enough to dive into. we brought snorkeling equipment and got a nice peek at the stripey fish that huddled in the coral to escape the surf. i did an ok job of not getting bashed into the coral, but i think erika got scratched up pretty badly. she bruises like a peach, that one.
and then we ran into mika, mika, and morgan! what are the chances? small world, all that jazz. i mean, i understand that most travelers thru africa follow the lonely planet, but we were off the path beaten down by backpackers. we were in a posh timeshare resort...and so were mika, mika, and morgan, courtesy of mika's mom, as a honeymoon gift to mika (the other one) and morgan. not only where they in the same resort, they were in the room right next to ours, which came in handy when we locked ourselves out and had to break in via our balcony.
remembering that mika's dad is a mechanic, we had him look at our car, which translated into driving the car to market with a carload of ppl, which meant that i got to ride on the roof :-D. i've always wanted to ride the roof of a 4x4, and what better place to do it than africa, where my safety was no one's concern but mine. we bumped along the dirt road as i held on for dear life to the roof rack. when we got to the major road, we sped up, turned up the kings of leon, and i leaned into the wind and took advantage of the speed bumps to wave at the catcallers who yelled, "hey cheeeeena!". FREEDOM!
that night, we bought some prawns from the beach boys and made ash's spicy red prawn curry, along with garlic+lemon stringbeans, and a huge cucumber, tomato, avocado salad. as usual, we made way too much food, but luckily, gerwin was stoned off his face, so we put away a good deal of it. the ants had their way with the leftovers.
 |
| From mombasa 3-2009 |
 |
| From mombasa 3-2009 |
Another memorable meal was when we got the beach boys to throw us a moonlight seafood bbq. to be honest, they oversold it a bit, promising us lobster, kingprawns, fish, and crabs and delivering only octopus, barracuda, and prawns, but the home made coconut wine, the excellent curry, and the great ambiance under the stars made up for everything. i told them i liked sea urchin, so they picked a few of those for me too. we literally cracked them open and ate them raw...which was sandy and salty, and not quite the uni-like experience i had hoped for. did i mention the curry was to die for?
 |
| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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| From mombasa 3-2009 |
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