(Other Alternate Title: Sometimes I can’t sleep. This is the outcome.)

One of the things I have discovered during the early parts of my education in finance is that I am actually learning about human behavior. This was not something I’d ever considered, but it becomes apparent when you realize that all an economist does when they formulate a model is make an attempt to create a mathematical expression that will simulate an interaction that takes place naturally among people. Finance, being in essence a special form of applied economics, often involves making assumptions about human behavior in the face of risk. As I lay somewhere in-between waking and dreaming the other night, it dawned on me that I could easily model a simple form of the choices a man faces when considering asking a woman out, and use this to show, mathematically, why we are so timid.

On the show “How I Met Your Mother”, this scene stands out as an example.

Robin: Remember that guy Ted that I was telling you about? Well, I came home and I found him waiting in my apartment with the string quartet and roses and chocolates and…
The vet: Oh, that’s so sweet.
Robin: Ok, yes, it’s sweet in theory but isn’t it also kind of crazy? I mean a string quartet in my living room, who does that?
The vet: Nobody does that.
Robin: Exactly.
The vet: No honey, nobody does that.

Why? Why are men so scared to go the extra mile and really put themselves out there? We see it in movies and on TV all the time. Some man sings in public (Ten Things I Hate…), he breaks up a wedding (Wayne’s World 2), or he fights for her honor (Back to the Future, and yes, I chose stupid examples on purpose).  The point being, the guy makes a fool of himself, but ends up with the girl, because the latent cultural belief is that the “Grand Gesture” is the pinnacle of romantic overtures. So then, why is it so rare that we ever observe it in the wild?

I think, obviously, that the answer is well known to everyone. Risk. It’s a high risk, high reward situation. There’s a huge payoff to be had, but the cost of failure is punitive.  One my well ask though, isn’t the reward worth the risk? Well, let’s try to find out.

Allow me to introduce you to a little concept called the “utility” function. I use quotes around utility because the words has a specific definition in our context. We will simple refer to “utility” as the value one derives from the consumption of some good. One of the basic rules of a utility function is that it is a strictly increasing function. In other words, more is better than less. Think of money: you’d rather have two dollars as one dollar, and you’d prefer three to two, and you’d rather have one million and one dollars as opposed to just one million. For our case, the “good” we will consider is emotional well being. We will assign emotional well being a numeric value. Let’s assume that this is a linear mapping, so that an emotional rating of 100 is twice as good as 50.  So, we will define our utility function as u(x). You can read that as “you-of-ex”, with x being the e-score we mentioned above. This just says that our utility is a function of our e-score. The higher the e-score, the higher our utility, because more is preferred to less.

We will also make one little extra constraint on the utility function. It will be the property that represents the “risk aversion” of the individual. The way we will describe the situation is this: even though more is better than less, it gets better at a slower rate the more of something you already have. So, to say that a different way, $50 is more useful to someone who has $2,000 than $50 is to someone who has $200,000. We call this “decreasing marginal utility”. Mathematically, we express this as u”(x)<0. This is a statement about the shape of the function, but it’s basically just the “math” way of saying the same thing, i.e. we gain utility at a decreasing rate.

So, let’s assign our utility function an actual mathematical form. The natural logarithmic function suits our purposes. You won’t need to know much about it, but trust me that it matches the assumptions that we set out earlier. So, let u(x)=ln(x). To demonstrate that it is strictly increasing, consider ln(2.0)=.693, ln(3.0)=1.099, and ln(4.0)=1.386. So, it’s obviously increasing, but now look at the change from unit to unit. From 2 to 3, the function’s output rose by .406, but from 3 to 4, it only increased by .287. So, like I said, it’s always increasing, but it does so at a decreasing rate. This will become really important later.

Ok, so, enter now our cast. We shall call our young suitor Westley. The object of his undisclosed affections is the beautiful young Buttercup. As I have just insinuated, Westley has not told Buttercup of his intentions, nor does he know her affections with regard to him. Westley starts this scenario with a baseline of 5000 emotional points. We will restrict his options to a binary choice. That means he only gets to pick from two different actions. Our setting: the annual fall ball – “Mega Autumnal Harvest Freakathon – MCMLXXX!!!”

Choice A: Westley decides that the better part of valor is discretion.  He chooses to make an attempt to single out Buttercup from amidst the crowd and confess his feelings privately in a straightforward undemanding way (perhaps during a dance, using the white noise of the crowd to cover his attempt). This allows Buttercup to let him down gently should it turn out that he is not exactly her choice of masked bandit. This spares him any public humiliation in that case, but it also limits his upside. But, let’s face it, if she says yes, he’s not worried about could-have-been.

Choice A has two possible outcomes, which we will list now.

Outcome 1A: Sweet success!! Buttercup smiles, looks away for just a moment to compose herself (after all, she’s been waiting for this moment for quite some time herself), and whispers, “Of course. What’s taken you so long!”

Westley is, at this point, fairly elated. He revels in his own private triumph, but does wonder how awesome it would have been if everyone would have been watching at the time. That would have put it over the top.

Success bonus: +1000 e-points.

Outcome 2A: Bitter defeat. Double sad face. ( Buttercup, falters for just a moment, but puts on a sweet, warm smile, and declines his proffer. Because he was so nice about it, however, she at least compliments him on his bravery. She’s somewhat amazed he had the guts to ask, since it was obvious to everyone that he had no shot.

Westley, dear, sweet Westley, is crestfallen. All his planning, all the months of pining away, have come to naught. But, on the bright side, she didn’t humiliate him, and other than a few close, chosen confidants, no one knows about what just happened, so his street cred has suffered minimal damage. He can hold a stiff upper lip, and walk out with dignity.

Failure penalty: -1000 e-points.

Now, we will proceed to his second option.

Choice B: Westley, being but a young, common day laborer, has aspirations. As a boy, he sat on his father’s knee and listened to the stories of days gone by. Days when the public outcry against the tyranny of illegitimate rulers would no longer be restrained, and the concentrated passions of good men wrought a new nation built upon individual liberty and respect for basic human rights bestowed upon us by an almighty righteous Creator. Days when men battled untold nightmares across the oceans. Days when men shaved their faces with nothing but a wedge of raw hand sharpened steel, iron willed self confidence, and the bowel churning fear of being the only guy who ever actually did cut his own throat while trimming his mustache.

Our protagonist has decided that he will be one of those men. Damn the consequences, the world will know how he feels. He will look back on this day as his proof of life, evidence of a spine, and “the day I grew a pair.” He will lie on his death bed with the bosom warming knowledge that he was not a coward in this all too short life. No sir (or ma’am, I suppose), Westley is going to step up to the plate and grab hold of this chance with both hands, and tightly. He may well strike out, but it will not be quietly to a slow curve over the outside corner. No, it will be on three Herculean swings that appear to be an attempt to screw himself into the ground feet-first.

Let there be lights. Westley jumps on stage. He sings an Elton John song. He does an interpretive dance. He tosses toffee and chocolate like it’s the freaking Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Men in penguin suits filter in through the back with row upon row of roses in a variety of colors.  He jumps off the stage, and in front of his beloved’s rather shocked face, he states clearly into the microphone, “Buttercup, I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you. Would you like to go get some ice cream or something?” (Ed note: We never said he was smart.)

Choice B also has two possible outcomes.

Outcome 1B: Perfect Victory!!!11One!! A slight mistiness creeps into the eyes of many. An older gentleman comments “I say, it seems to have gotten a bit dusty in here,” as he steps out so that no one will see him cry. Buttercup beams like the glory of the rising sun. She throws herself at young Westley in what appears to be an attempt to swallow his face whole. Women want him. Men want to be him. The florist refuses to accept his money, on account of this being the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. Buttercup’s father asks Westley to please marry his daughter so as to strengthen his own progeny’s genetic heritage. He even offers to pay for the honeymoon.

Success bonus: +500,000 e-points

“K-K-K-K-COMBO!!!”:  +100,000 e-points. All who witnessed will tell their grandchildren. The story persists through the millennia.

Made for TV bonus: +100,000 e-points. Funding to put their seven children (hey, they really like each other) through college is covered by the Hollywood exec who decides this is going to be next summer’s blockbuster.

Manliness bonus: +100,000 e-points. Overheard on the way out, “Dude. That guy has balls that clang.”

Twoo Wuv bonus: +100,000 e-points. Turns out, she wasn’t just caught up in the moment. They celebrate their 75th wedding anniversary next Tuesday.

Unquestionable Decision Making bonus: +95,000 e-points. Westley now has the ultimate card to play whenever anyone else has relationship problems. He and  Buttercup become “that couple” that always go on and on about how they got together at every opportunity. Everyone hates it, but they don’t care. Don’t question success.

Total: +995,000 e-points.

Outcome 2B: Epic Fail.  The crowd stands in stunned silence. Buttercup, horrified, shrieks, “Oh my God! What is *wrong* with you! You freak!” She then runs out of the room sobbing in humiliation. Westley, for his part, hasn’t moved. He does appear to have gone a slight shade of green. Internally, the reason for his immobility is not resolve. No, instead, it is the all too common reaction to fear. Simply, he’s doing his best to resist the sensation of impending explosive incontinence. A young child, seeing the tortured disfigurement in Westley’s face turns to his mother, who simply whispers, “Dear God, what is that thing?” Westley manages to creep out the back, attempting to ignore the growing laughter in the auditorium.

Failure penalty: -1,000 e-points.

“Finish Him!”: -1,000 e-points. As a follow up, Westley is served papers later that week. Buttercup is suing for emotional trauma. There’s also a restraining order included, just for kicks. Good times!

Humiliation penalty: -1,000 e-points. Overheard from another young lady on the way out: “Can you imagine?  I would have just thrown up on him then and there. I mean, what was he thinking? Everyone knows he had no shot with her. And ice cream… what was that? What a creep.”

Short changed penalty: -1,000 e-points. Umm… yeah. He only made it to the car before his “discomforts” overtook him. Now he needs to buy a new driver’s seat, and have the car fumigated. We won’t even mention the cost of replacing the tux he rented.

“Pay up sucker!”: -999 e-points. Do you have any idea how much those freaking roses cost?!

Total: -4,999 e-points.

Math note: I didn’t take the full 5,000 because I assume that if his e-index falls to zero, Westley commits suicide. I didn’t want to go there. It just so happens that ln(0) is negative infinity, but ln(1)=0. I think the intuition of that works well.

Ok, now let’s look at this mathematically. Westley has to make his decision now, before he knows how Buttercup will react. Because of this, we say that Westley is about to maximize his *expected* utility. If he knew what was going to happen, he’d just maximize his utility. The difference is, now Westley has to face some risk.

Let’s assume that Westley feels that either reaction is equally likely. She might love him, she might not. It’s 50/50.

So, what is Westley’s expectation about his potential utility with regards to each of his two options?

Choice A: 50% chance of receiving 1000 e-points, and a 50% chance of losing 1000 e-points. So, he expects to basically end up with a zero net change in his emotional well being.

Choice B: 50% chance of receiving 995k e-points, and a 50% chance of losing 4999 e-points. So, he is actually looking like he’d be much better off taking the risk here, right?

Well, now we have to go back to the constraints we set forth earlier. Remember, Westley operates out of his utility function, and it factors in his risk aversion. That’s why we say he is maximizing his expected utility, and not just his expected emotional point standing. Why? Because, like I said earlier: just like money, the more you have of something, the less it is worth incrementally.

So, for Choice A, Westley’s expected utility is: .5*ln(6000)+.5*ln(4000)

All we did is plug in his post-decision emotional well being into his utility function, and multiply them by their respective probability.

For Choice A, this expected utility is 8.497.

Doing the same for Choice B, his expected utility with that decision is:

.5*ln(1000000)+.5*ln(1)= 6.908

Whoa. Isn’t that weird? Even though Westley would expect to have a much better average outcome if he goes with Choice B, he won’t choose it. He will wuss out and go with Choice A. Why? Risk. Implicit in the “risk averse” concept is that people put more weight on the downside than they do the upside.

An example: Someone walks up to you, and offers you this gamble. They will flip a coin. If it’s heads, you win $50,000. If it’s tails, you lose $50,000. You have to pay it. There’s no way to weasel out. The coin is fair, verifiably. The money is real, and it’s right there in front of you. Do you take the gamble? Most people won’t, because they are risk averse. The downside, though technically “equal” in magnitude, outweighs the upside.  As an aside, there also exists the concept of “risk neutral” and “risk loving” as human behaviors. Risk loving is pretty rare, and only exists in a few situations.

So, what could we do to change this outcome? Well, what if Westley had a better idea that Buttercup might be interested? What if he was 65% sure that she liked him?

Choice A: .65*ln(6000)+.35*ln(4000)=8.558

Choice B: .65*ln(1000000)+.35*ln(1)=8.980

Hey! Now it looks like the guy will take the risk, which is what all of us romantic softies really wanted in the first place. So, this explains a little something else to us: we *do* see some big gestures, but they only really occur after a relationship has already started. A guy might get down on one knee in front of a thousand people, but he generally already knows what’s about to happen. It’s probably just as much (or more) a function of his expectation of her reaction than it is the actual value to him of that reaction.

I expect that no one reading this will really consider this revolutionary information. Most people favor the overly romantic “Grand Gesture” as the theoretical peak, but so few attain it because the cost of failing is just too much to overcome. Perhaps men are cowards, but it’s not because they prefer it. They just can’t afford not to be extremely caution. Why, consider dear Westley. Suppose after the failure, he decides to move on with his life and pursue some other young lady. If said young lady had witnessed the cataclysmic wreckage of his attempt with Buttercup, do you think she’s going to go out with the guy? I think not. So, by virtue of making the supreme effort, Westley sacrifices his other alternatives. Perhaps I should have listed that in the costs above.

Speaking of extending this analysis, some of you (being clever in your own right) may be asking the question, “Well, why does the guy *have* to ask her out?” Good question. I considered putting that in, as a third option, but I felt that it would best describe the situation to show a man who has made up his mind to go forward. If you prefer a more mathematical viewpoint, we could say that Choice C is take no action at all. But, alas, because of our protagonist’s sense of honor, he would suffer a cowardice penalty. I would say, let’s dock him 4001 e-points, because he regrets it for the rest of his life, and he is never really able to get over Buttercup. Without “knowing” one way or the other, his soul is tortured. He wilted in the face of the trial, and now he must live with the knowledge that he never pursued his one true love.

ln(999)=6.907

Thus, his utility from doing nothing is a worse option than Choice B. Please note that I had to chose 999 e-points as his final total, since ln(1000) is exactly equal to .5*ln(1000000). It’s just one of the interesting properties of the natural log function.

Fortunately for our two love starved heroes, their story is somewhat well known. He distinctly said, “to blave”, and as we all know, to blave means “to bluff”, and he died after being tortured in the Pit of Despair. It’s sad, but true.

Now that I have hand forged, lo, these 3000+ words; I hope that you are appreciative. Knowledge is power. Or pow’r, if you were the writer of many nineteenth century hymns.

Now I have to take derivatives and sign them. Good times.

These are the “best of the best” from my trip as far as wallpaper goes (in my opinion of course). I had other great images, but they just may not be as suited for this sort of display.

Remember, just because I didn’t watermark them doesn’t mean that they aren’t all copyrighted (me, 2009), so no distribution off of this page please.

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I’ve generated some more background and character work that I think will pay off in the future. It’s so much easier to write people when you already have them developed in your head. Really, it’s similar to real life in some ways. I write dialogue in the same way I rehearse conversations (does anyone else do that?). I talk to people in my head, trying to think about how they would respond to various things I could say. I think it helps me communicate more clearly in real life if I develop my ideas ahead of time. This often makes people think that I’m combative in conversation, because I have detailed backing for a lot of my opinions. So, when I bring up several conflicting points in a conversation, they think I’m picking a fight, when really I’m just trying to deal with a subject that I’ve already spent time thinking about in the past. Often, I’m not really being adversarial as much as I’m just trying to figure out if they’ve come up with a better solution or response than I have.

I have to admit, sometimes I get disappointed when people quit on a disagreement so quickly. People don’t like conflict, and so they tend to back down or give up in short order. Frequently, I am actually hoping that they’ll say something I haven’t considered and actually change my mind. It’s a comfort sometimes, because I don’t like a lot of the conclusions I draw when I examine the world. It frustrates me when I can’t seem to get a different perspective that makes more sense than the cynical one I often come to.

Anyway, I’ve gotten some satisfaction from my writing recently. I have several things I need to write, and it just happened that I didn’t want to (or didn’t have the inspiration glads primed enough) really concentrate on them. One is a set of essays for my graduate applications, and the other is a summary of my thoughts on Africa. The first I’m just not prepared for, because I still need to do some research. The second I just haven’t formed enough conclusions to really do properly.

So, here’s a bit of what I *have* managed to get done. The actual codex doesn’t contain both of these pieces adjacent to each other, but I want to keep enough of the story obscure so that it will be fresh when I get ready to release it to destructive testing (open reading and editing). It’s just a flimsy story. Gutter fiction of the sort I like to read that is funny and interesting, yet not so heavy as to be taxing. Sometimes I just want a fun story that has some solid logic inherent in thing. Hopefully I’ll be able to be internally consistent… but at the same time, it’s intended to jack with your perceptions and make you consider some thoughts that I hope are original and unique to my little fevered mind.

Enjoy!

****

His nights were consumed with the library, an interactive database of knowledge covering almost every social, technological, and historical aspect of Earth. This was where Warren began to realize the truth about just how out of place he was.

It started because of the industrial revolution. The multiplied tons of carbon that began filling the atmosphere served as a clear indication to those who were watching that the inhabitants of the planet were about to embark on an amazing period of growth in technological capability. This was the trigger.

They had been watching for some time. Earth was not unique among the heavens in that respect. They kept tabs on all known members of a certain class of celestial bodies. Planets were cataloged, categorized by inhabitability, and occasionally encouraged to develop. Planets with native sapience were treated with the utmost of care. They were the rarest of pearls in God’s jewelry box, planets so rich in location and substance that they actually brought forth rational intelligence. The universe as a whole was not the teaming ocean of life that many believed. Though a great many planets were situated in survivable orbits and contained the correct ratios of elements and gravities, very, very few actually developed life. Those that did frequently never developed anything above instinct level intelligences. Beings always underestimated the raw opposition of probability when it came to these things. Sentience was not a low energy state affair, and no matter how many monkeys with paintbrushes you employ, the Sistine Chapel was not an act of chaos, nor could it ever be.

Thus, when Earth started to fog its skies those who watched simply followed the protocols in place. Rules had been established long ago regarding the interaction with and advancement of juvenile societies: it was allowed and encouraged, but heavily regulated. Every planet would always retain a vast, and bordering on total, amount of independence with regards to the affairs within its own atmosphere and, generally, star system. Outside of those lines, however, systems were considered the property of those parties granted rights due to the discovery or purchase of that sector of space.

So it was that Earth had been the property of another galactic entity for approximately 47,000 years. A rather large portion of the human race still was not aware of the true extent of this situation, for it had been decided best to reveal this over a longer period and in small doses to the general population.

****

Walking down the hallway, Warren was a ball of tension. His mind was a curious complexity of questions and fear.

You’re just being stupid. These people aren’t going to eat your mind or anything. They are doctors. They are at war, so they need you. You’re a soldier. Why should they do anything to harm you? But can you really trust a shrink? Do they really even know what they are doing, fooling with the mind? Maybe they’ll brainwash you. But brainwash me to what? What is it about this place? It’s like there’s some great secret hiding in the background that I just can’t see. Why am I here? Where am I? Who brought me here? What are they hiding from me? Watch for windows. How am I going to get out of here if I need to? Watch for windows. They aren’t barred… God only knows what they are made of. This is a clinic… for crazy people. You think they’ll put easily broken unbarred windows about the place? Doubtful. Where would I go, anyway? I’ll try to find Gibson. Will he help me? What would that mean for him? They’ll court marshal him. Would he risk that? Who else can you trust? I don’t think I can trust anyone. There’s no way about it. You can’t win this. You can’t run. Where can you hide? They probably have tracking devices in you. Well of course they do. You’re barcoded. You’re a soldier. You’re meat to them. Face it, you’ve already lost. You’re just biding your time until your hand is called. This is all so stupid. These are real people, you know. Families. Dogs at home, waiting to be fed. It’s not like they are puppy kicking cannibals. Relax. So far, the only danger you’ve been subjected to has been in your own head. You walk the streets at night in peace. Everything has always been peaceful around here. I wonder why? Isn’t that odd?

The burgundy carpet was deeply padded and complemented the wood paneled walls. The entire atmosphere of the clinic was similar to a hunting lodge. All the decorations were of dark colors. Every lampshade seemed to be rose tinted, and though the curtains were drawn open, the light entering the windows couldn’t quite manage to really fill the place. Darkness prevailed in the corners and under tables.

It was odd to him that, under different circumstances, such a building would be well suited to a quiet vacation in the wilderness. Though dark, the colors were comforting. They implied a coolness, a reprieve from the oppressive heat of the un-obscured sun awaiting outside. He wanted to lay down for a short nap in the softness of carpet and watch the light play on the oiled furniture. Possibly, he could forget where he was for a short time…

He was shown into a luxuriously furnished office. The continuing theme of soft red and browns made the room look like a 20’s era boardroom. Tung oil scented the air, along with a very slight smell of vanilla.

Standing to one side of a large mahogany desk was the source of the second aroma. The first thing that struck Warren was not the lack of a beard, or a sweater for that matter. No, the first thing that went through his mind was that this was one of the most attractive women he’d ever seen in his life wearing a very warm smile.

“Ah, Mr. Feeks. It’s good to meet you. I’m Dr. Basilico. Please, have a seat.”

She indicated the chair before the desk as her smile faded. It was of the same style and size as her own: large, leather, and deep. She dismissed the secretary with a nod without removing her attention from her new patient.

“You’re not military, are you.”

Warren said this as a statement, rather than a question. It was obvious. He thought to himself that this may have been why he was so struck by her features, because they were quite unlike any other woman he’d seen since his displacement. Her fine bone structure looked almost frail in comparison to the rest of the female population on base.

He gestured to the desk and chairs, “Don’t you think the appointments are a bit stereotypical? Do I need to get on the couch? I can’t believe you actually have one… I always thought it was just a cliché.”

“No,” she replied as her smile returned. “I’m not military. And you are correct that I did not receive that engineering, if that’s what you’re implying. I also must confess that I don’t really understand your second question. What’s stereotypical about my office? And I do not see how a therapists’ couch is anything out of place. I simply try to make my clients as comfortable as possible.”

“Well, it’s kind of classic posh, isn’t it? A bit of a show, financially? I mean, you’ve even got the massive bookcase full of leather bound volumes. I’m just waiting for you to tell me that you’re ‘kind of a big deal’. ‘People know me.’ That sort of thing. But they do engineer people here, don’t they? I’d guessed, but hadn’t had time to research it yet.”

“Yes, ‘they’ do, Mr. Feeks, though I think we should leave the technical questions aside for the moment. I will promise to come back to them in due time, but right now I would like to set a psychological baseline to start from. Is that acceptable?”

“Thank you, yes.”

“I’m an evaluation specialist, Mr. Feeks. I’m not here to fix your problems; I’m here to determine your condition as it concerns military service. There are a few different ways we can look at this situation, and I just want to be up front about that. Please understand that I am not passing any judgment on you at this time, but I will have to make certain recommendations about your fitness for duty. I’m not here for therapy, or to offer you any treatment for any illness you might have. I am triage. I decide if you stay or go. I am your judge, Mr. Feeks. Because of this burden I have, I will need you to be as honest as possible. If I suspect that you are lying, I will mention that in any report that I give. You should have no expectation of confidentiality in this room. This is a military procedure. What you say will be scrutinized and made available to those in decision making positions.

“Desertion is a real problem the military faces with many soldiers. You need to be aware that this is one of the main possibilities that I must consider in your case. Our military has no legal responsibility to grant a medical discharge without the recommendation of my department, and you will be afforded no recourse even if later review or testing discovers an error in our judgment. In other words, my decisions regarding your status are binding and final.

“Do you understand your position in this matter?”

“Wait, so… is this a legal hearing or a psychological evaluation?”

“It is both, Mr. Feeks.”

“Well if this is some sort of legal proceeding, do I need a lawyer?”

“You are not allowed legal counsel in this matter. I serve as both your advisor, and jury.”

“I’m not allowed any outside oversight?”

“Mr. Feeks, you fall under military jurisdiction. This is the process. You’ve requested a discharge from your services due to medical necessity. It is my duty to make an evaluation of that request. I have no wish to see anyone in the field that is not fully able to serve in a full capacity, and I am fully qualified to evaluate your mental faculties. These are the powers granted me. You assented to this program when you signed up for this release. If you have any further questions about the scope of this process, I would ask that you review that at a later time. We have quite a bit of ground to cover today. Now, may we proceed?”

“I suppose so.”

“Very well. Now, you say you can’t remember anything that happened past two months ago? No, wait, that’s not correct. What you remember just doesn’t appear to match up with the life that you now have, correct?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Yes, well, I’ve looked over your screening tests, and I must say, it appears you’ve been pretty open about this problem.”

“I’m not sure what to do. I thought about hiding it, but I believed that that could harm others.”

“Yes, so you’ve said. You even have had odd dreams since your accident, yes? Amazingly, the hospital found absolutely no sign of long term trauma to your brain. You came in with a concussion, but you were examined shortly before you were discharged. They found no damage, just a fairly regular concussion, which would have cleared up within a few days of your release from the hospital.”
She looked up from the file in her hands, “So, I’ll just be up front about this, it doesn’t appear that any physical change is responsible. Why don’t you just relay what your memories are from the start?”

“Ok… I’m not really sure what you mean by ‘from the start.’ You want, like, my life story or something?”

“Yes, please.”

“Well… I mean… I don’t know. I grew up pretty normal I guess. Born, raised in a small town. You see, I don’t even know what to talk about. I don’t know what’s the same here and what’s different, you know? I haven’t even been off this base since I got here… what’s regular life like?”

“Mr. Feeks, I understand that you may have some dilemma in accurately relaying and describing some details, however we really must have more information about exactly what psychosis you are or are not suffering from. Just talk, I’ll interrupt if I need more detail or explanation.”

“Ok, well, do I really need to start that early?”

“Let’s just start at twelve. Focus on your teenage years until now.”

“Right, well, I went to school in a little town called Darby, here in Florida. It was a private school. Actually, it gets weird right here, because Darby apparently doesn’t exist anymore. It’s not on your maps.”

“You said Florida? Interesting, and a private school. What kind of private school?”

“Oh, Christian. My parents liked having more control over my education than what public schools gave. They liked that it was so small, and they felt like they had more say since they were sending in checks. I was just another kid. I played backup safety on the football team. I never was big enough for much else. I didn’t have the arm to throw or the leg to kick. Special teams and stuff like that. You’ve got football, right?”

She smiled a little, “Yes, it’s a popular game.”

“Well… that’s something at least. So, anyway, I wasn’t a real social ascendant, just a guy. Didn’t really date much. Actually, that’s one of the weird things so far, I actually do know two people here. They were back there also. I knew them in school. I kinda had a crush on Jill back in the day. Never got anywhere with it. Girls in Darby generally always wanted a boyfriend from somewhere else. I guess it was more prestigious or something to say that you’d landed a guy from another town. Like, I guess you were worth driving to see or something.”

“Yes, Mr. Feeks, we have that documented. We’ve already taken statements from both.”

“Oh, well, great. I’m sure they had some interesting things to say. Anyway, I wasn’t anything really, just a guy. I graduated in the upper portion of my class, and went to college not far from home. USF. Same story there, really. I didn’t get out a lot. Oddly enough, that’s how I got here I guess. I actually “got out” one night. Those two girls and I, we’d went to a party. Ok, not together, but we’d all ended up there, and they’d gotten a bit tipsy and needed a ride home. I was always a safe ride home. Since they knew me, they knew I wouldn’t take advantage of them.”

Warren smiled, “Maybe I should have… that would have kept me from feeling like such a doormat, but anyway, we were driving home, and I think a dog ran into the road or something. I swerved, because I’m stupid, and I hit some gravel on the edge of the road. From what they tell me, it wasn’t a horrible wreck. I just hit my head. The girls were fine, because apparently drunks always walk away. I ended up in the hospital for a couple of days.”

“And so you feel like you woke up in a different world?”

“I don’t really have a better way to say it. There’s stuff here we didn’t have back home. Technology people made up in their head.”

“All technology is made up in people’s heads, Mr. Feeks.” She seemed to enjoy batting down his loose statements. It made for an odd atmosphere, because Warren couldn’t figure out if she was paying more attention to the whole of his story or if she was just continually picking nits.

“Ok, but you know what I mean. This is crap that we didn’t have development or manufacturing for. We didn’t have the capability, even if we could dream it. It’s bad enough that they think I’m a pilot, but it’s not like I even recognize the propulsion system on those craft. I don’t know if I should call them planes or jets or what. We didn’t have things like that.”

“And yet, Mr. Feeks, I have complete records of your training to fly that very vehicle. Eye witnesses. Signed documents. Video, even. How do you explain that?”

Well, today was heartbreak. We ate our last breakfast, lunch, and dinner in Moshi. I spent part of the morning packing.

We were supposed to go to a primary school (Masasita) at ~10:30am or so, but there was some mix-up, so we couldn’t do it then. We did get to see a huge wasp that had a tarantula captive. National Geographic in the raw. When the wasp first flew by, it was just a shock. I’ve never seen a wasp so large. It was maybe two inches long in the body, and really seemed to have some bulk to it. I made the comment that it looked like something I’d seen on TV before, a wasp that paralyzes tarantulas and lays eggs on them. Sure enough, we see it fly into a hole in the concrete, and there’s a tarantula in there. They belong to the family “pompilidae”. They are often called “tarantula hawks” or “spider wasps”.

The basic process is this: a female wasp locates a tarantula by smell, and the two generally get in a fight. The wasp does its best to get a good sting on the spider, which paralyzes it. Then, the wasp lays an egg on the body of the tarantula. The egg hatches, and the larvae has a nice snack to start out in life with. It’s a grisly business, spider hawking. I can’t believe I’ve seen this with my own eyes, but there you have it. The wasp is hard to make out in the pictures, because it’s so dark. If you look closely, you can see a leg sticking out and the iridescence of its wings. The tarantula must have already been paralyzed, because it didn’t move much while I watched. I was amazed that he wasp was so strong: it could lift the tarantula pretty easily. I don’t think they have enough lift to carry them in flight though… that would be scary.

Since there was some time to kill, the rest of the group went shopping, while I stayed at the MH. I needed to finish a book before I donated it to the school library. I had bought a Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass book to read on the trip.

We did (finally) end up going to the primary school at ~2:20PM. Montana spoke to the children about love. There was a Lutheran minister there also. He really appreciated the sermon, and it turns out that he’d recently experienced some personal tragedy as his son was killed in an accident a month or two earlier.

They had separated out all the Christian kids away from the Muslim and Catholic children. Tanzania is much different from the US in that respect. They have no trouble with having religion involved in school or everyday activities, and it looks like they even encourage it in many ways.

After we left the primary school, we went to FoH for the farewell ceremony. They opened with singing, and we all received a shirt as a gift. I cried a lot. Shocker. The leaders also gathered around us and prayed for us. I can still hear the headmistress praying “bind his hands to the hands of Christ, his feet to the feet of Christ, his heart to the heart of Christ, his mind to the mind of Christ…”

We were asked to speak, and I could barely say anything. I gave it a good try. I started off making light of the fact that I was all weepy, and then proceeded on with a fine demonstration of shaky voiced, overly-dramatic farewell speech. I’m not going to say I’m ashamed of it, but it wasn’t really one of my proudest moments either. I guess we’ll just go with “it is what it is” and leave it at that. Most of the students didn’t cry, but I think a few of the F1 girls were tearing up. We were not so strong. I wasn’t at least.

“You are fairer, much fairer, than the lily that grows by the wayside…”

Mgebi gave me a rock, which was pretty cool of him. I’d told him earlier in the week that I needed to find a good rock to take home. When I left home, I’d asked mom what kind of souvenir she wanted, and she said she wanted a rock, just a piece of Africa. I’d found one earlier that I liked, so I gave that one to her and kept the one that Mgebi gave me for myself.

Emmanuel finally prayed for me. This was another story that I didn’t really get into earlier. Emmanuel was one of the real leaders of Form One. He is a great guy (and will probably end up being a real lady-killer). On one of our outings to the children’s prison, he’d asked me about my glasses. I told him I’d had them for a long time, and couldn’t see very well at all without them. He told me he would pray for me, but we never got around to it. When everyone was clearing out after the farewell ceremony, I caught up with him and asked him if he was going to make good on his promise. I’ll take a prayer like that every day of the week, please.

I received a note from Gladness (Form One) also. Most (if not all) of us got special notes as we were leaving from the students, similar to our welcome cards. It was kind of funny, because the students didn’t deliver them directly to us, and Gladness came up two or three times asking if I’d gotten a note yet. I think she was really excited to get my reaction. It was very edifying, and a great touch. It’s nice to have something from them that I can pick up and read to refresh my memory of the place.

On our way out, a few of the third graders met us before we go on the van. I don’t think they’d be there for the farewell, because I looked for a few of them in the crowd but never saw them. I could hear little Gladness (Mahene, Grade 3) crying before I got to them. It really was an emotional moment for me. If you’ll remember, Gladness was the girl who drew the pictures for me earlier. Seeing the look on her face just went right through me. I really wept with her, just holding her for a while before we had to get into the dalla dalla to leave.

8/27/08 7:30AM (Amsterdam)

After we left the school, we ate our final supper at MH and hurriedly packed our things onto a truck and headed for the airport.

I had to check my stick (one of the several items I bought to bring home) on because it was considered a weapon. The first leg of our flight was short, because we were just going to Dar es Salaam.

I slept ok on the flight to Amsterdam, and watched a couple of movies. The flight passed fairly quickly. It’s been really easy traveling. I had Debbie as a travel buddy on all the flights, so at least I had some decent company, and she doesn’t snore or anything. I must’ve watched seven movies on the return flights.

We spent half a day in the airport in Amsterdam. Finding a place to sleep was difficult, and we ended up crashing out on some benches. Trying to fit lengthwise was a challenge, because there were armrests that you couldn’t move. I spent twelve dollars on a McDonald’s meal, just chicken nuggets, fries, and a coke. I guess it was still a better deal that the three bottles of water we got in Amsterdam on the way out. Those were $5 a pop. Yeah… airport prices plus the current dollar to euro conversion makes for expensive meals.

The rest of the trip home was mostly uneventful. I had to wait for close to an hour for my stick to come out on the baggage line in Memphis. The rest of my luggage was all small enough to take as carry on, so I was never in fear of losing anything. We made at least three requests to the help desk to have them look for it, but then never listened to me. Kim finally talked to them and gave them some good Seger motivation. After that, all was well, and we made it home around 9PM.

Yesterday, we slept in a little. We left later to go on some in-home visits. We had breakfast, and then we went to the school to pick up Weniel and little Emmanuel. Evelyn and Mama Eric came with us.

Our first stop was at Weniel’s house. His father is a pastor of a little congregation of about 60. Their home is mud, dung, and sticks. They live with a few of their children. They have seven total; I think there are ten people in their house.

They live in a pretty common manner. They farm a little plot of land for maize, keep a cow for someone else because they are getting the calf, and raise chickens. The roof was tin, and they have a little electricity for a light and radio. Water comes from a faucet about twenty-five yards from the house. They have had materials to build a house since 1995, blocks and bricks donated by their church, but haven’t had enough money to build even now. The construction costs are just too high for the simply income they have. The cooking area is simply three stones on the ground to support a pot that rests over an open fire.

The pastor was a very kind and hospitable man. He was wearing a suit when we arrived, and they brought out every chair, stool, and bench they had so that we could sit and speak with them outside. We sat and discussed their lifestyle, how they farmed, and how they had raised their children.
To be honest, the situation was a little uncomfortable. It’s like “we’re coming to see you poor people and how you live in squalor.” I didn’t take my camera out of the van. One thing I really tried to do with all of my photos is show how much joy there is here. I avoided taking pictures of the kids when they were in pain (after getting out of the dentist’s office), and I didn’t feel comfortable taking photos of this family’s house. I kept reminding myself that I’m not here to be a journalist, I’m here to love them and show them Christ. Plus, with what I learned and experienced at Fountain of Hope, for many people, I may have a more effective communication of why people should help by pointing out the absolute joy of being there and the love experienced by connecting with those children.

After we left, we went to Ema’s house, or rather his grandmother’s. It also was a small mud house with a tin roof, although I’m pretty sure she had no electricity. She buys water from her neighbors. She gathers grass to sell for hay everyday to buy food. The house she lives in is actually not even hers, it is owned by someone else. I’m not sure if she pays rent or if they just allow her to live there.

I’m not sure if I can really even describe how I felt sitting there with this woman. Again, we were treated as honored guests, but I almost felt like I was intruding. She told us the story of her daily work and struggle to get food and water. It’s a day to day existence. What was really troubling is that there were numerous banana trees in her front yard, and she was surrounded by fields of maize. However, even with food all around, the plants and land are not hers, so she cannot take from them.

Ema, his father, and his grandmother are HIV positive. Ema was left at the orphanage at 2mos old, and this was the third time his grandmother had seen him. No one knows where his mother is. I believe Ema’s father is working somewhere as a painter. The grandmother was very concerned for her family, and their spiritual well being. I think every heart broke as we asked if we could pray for her. Instead of asking us to pray out her lifestyle, or for more work, or healing, or that God would provide for her children, she asked that we would pray that God would give her wisdom about how to deal with her family.

Our day wasn’t all sadness though, Ramadan ran over her neighbor’s hedge while trying to turn around when we got to the grandmother’s house. Fortunately, he only got the end of it, and the people were very kind about it. It was very fortunate that they knew the people we were going to see, and I think Evelyn did a wonderful job apologizing for us. We also stopped on the way out of town to buy two boxes full of food and supplies that we gave to each family while we were there, and of course, we gave out candy.

After lunch, the dental team went to FoH to finish the 1st and 2nd grade kids. The rest of us went to Fountain of Joy to pick up the shirts we were having made, but it turns out they aren’t ready yet. I also got some dolls for J&B&D. We spent a little while there doing bracelets, talking to Mary, and listening to them sing a few songs.

We then headed back to FoH, because it was almost five. The dental team was still working, and they finished pretty late because this was their last day to work and they wanted to make sure and finish every child. I’m really proud of them. They’ve worked their butts off and have generally done a great job. I feel a bit ashamed, because it seems like I got to hang out and have fun for two weeks, while they had to scare/hurt people (people cover their mouths now when they see Jason ) and work.

The rest of us just talked to some of the students while we waited. Kili came out again; we only saw the mountain a few times the whole time we were here. It’s a beautiful sight, and I’d really like to climb it some day.

Supper was at Pastor and Josephine’s house. They live is a nice house near town, where I’m told they actually have a washing machine, although it’s not quite the same as what we think of when we talk about washing machines. Josephine cooked some traditional Chagga food, and we sat and talked until it was late. The food was quite different. There were green bananas (didn’t care for them much), some sort of root that was a lot like potato in taste (not bad at all). Then there was the fruit of that same plant, and I didn’t care for it as much as the root. We also had some curried chicken, which isn’t bad. Overall, I really can’t complain about the food we’ve had here. Actually, to say I can’t complain isn’t even fair. The cooks at the house were incredible, really. It’s better than I eat at home, by far.

It’s hard to say goodbye, because we really spent such a very little time with the Shoos since we’ve been here. Josephine is a wonderful lady, and Pastor is quite the jokester. I really enjoyed both the nights that we ate with them.

Yesterday was a fairly full day. We got up early to make the 7AM service at iCC. Pastor Shoo spoke about being a child of God and how that applied to how we pray.

The form one students lead the praise and worship. They always do such a great job. The leaders of the fellowship prayed for us also. I got Josephine (Pastor’s wife), so, I mean, obviously I’m special.
We went back to the MH for breakfast, and then went to FoH where we led the school services. They split the school into two groups. I went with Debbie, Kim, and Jacob. Again, we had help from the Form One students. There, Kim continued speaking about prayer.

After lunch, we then got to the real fun. We went to visit the first and second grades, just to play. The kids there really enjoyed it. We spent time tossing them around, and showing them pictures from the safaris. They would all crowd around us so tightly to see the pictures. They love cameras. When you started showing them pictures, you would quickly be nearly suffocated by the kids pressing in on you. The whole time we were there, you could hardly see any white people because there would be a whole pile of kids stacked on top of them.

Another thing they love is hair. They would just sit and play with the hair on your arms, head, face, legs, or chest (according to Jason). Odd as it is, people in Tanzania don’t have much body hair. Plus, they don’t let the kids grow their hair out unless they can take care of it themselves. So, we show up and they were just mesmerized. We’ve got hairy faces and arms and legs. They really made Becky’s hair a mess. With her long pretty hair, it was really unavoidable. She had also brought her glitter duster, and that was a big hit. There was glitter all over those kids. They were sparkling like disco balls.

Two that I met were really special (well, every one of them were very special, but still). One was a little girl named Joy. She just hung out with me a lot that day. The other was a girl named Miriam. She had some tribal scars on her face and chest. I believe they said she came from the Hadzabe tribe, and those scars were either due to “beautification” or possibly some sort of tribal medicine ritual. Either way, she was a terrific little girl. If it’s not already obvious, I’m a total sucker for little girls. My daughters will walk all over me some day. My four nieces pretty much already do.

Jacob was a huge hit. You’d just see him making rounds of the building running with a huge group of boys chasing him. Once or twice I was worried, because they started rough housing, but everyone was laughing, so they were obviously loving it.

Before we left, we gave them all a bit of candy: a sucker and a tootsie roll. They really liked it. We also got some group pictures of them. For some reason, Zamlata went inside and kind of avoided us. I think she was upset for some reason. She did come out toward the end to see us and get some candy (it’s a big draw).

Continuing on, we got to the climax of the day – nursery! We all love the kids there, because they get so excited to see us. When you pull up at the building, they are all basically jumping up and down shouting for you. I got to see the little darling Jessica again, and also had two more girls that also got to me. One was named Josephine. We didn’t talk much, but she stayed right by my side the whole time we were there.

But if she stayed by my side, Esther stayed in my lap. Esther was the little girl who had specifically learned my name that last time we visited nursery. From the moment we got there until the moment we left, she barely let go of my hand. Actually, I had to make her let go twice: once so she could let Jason and Sean swing her around and again to get her candy. Otherwise, I was content to let her sit in my lap the whole time. I seriously would bring her to the US if it were possible. I think she’d fit in my backpack.

I guess part of what makes the nursery time so great is that the kids just soak up all the attention. I’m sure that it’s hard on them being away from home so long at that age. They just love anything and everything you do with them. They are old enough to really play and don’t have any of the hesitation we saw with the babies at FoZ. Also, they are still young enough to just cut straight to your heart with their innocence and cuteness. The cuteness factor in nursery (and grades one and two) is through the roof. Watching them eat their candy was hilarious.

Obviously, saying goodbye was very difficult. We told them we loved them, and tried to run away before we flooded the place with tears. Looking back, it’s best that I wasn’t sure if I’d be back to see them again or not. Now, knowing that it’s the last I’ll see of them, I don’t think I would have been quite so composed.

One of the interesting things today was seeing some of the kids that were clearly little siblings of some of the older students, like Salome’s little sister. They looked so alike! I guess you’d have had to be there. I mean, I suppose I should have expected that there would be brothers and sisters in the school, and mentally I did know it, but it was still a little shocking to be walking around and see a little clone of one of the older kids looking up at you.

We had hamburgers for supper. Kim went to visit friends and we had ice cream drumsticks. It rained hard last night. First real rain since we’ve been here.

Ps. 37:1-8

Yesterday we began by going with some of the Form One students to town for street ministry. We all (and I mean all) piled into Ramadan’s dalla dalla and headed for town. I was paired with Debbie, and we teamed with John, Joseph, Joanne, and Gladness. That was the basic format: two mzungu and four F1 students. Doing the math, that’s eight members of the team, plus sixteen students, plus Abel (the accompanying teacher), and Ramadan driving. If you’re claustrophobic/ochlophobic, you may want to avoid public transport in Africa. We had people stacked up on top of each other.

We went to a market area in Moshi, where we talked with several shop owners. The first man I talked to was young, about 22. He said he was Muslim, but that he would like to receive Christ but he still lived with his family. We prayed for him and invited him to Pastor Shoo’s church. We ran into that situation a few times, where people said that their family was Muslim, and that was really the only thing hindering them.

Many people wanted us to stop and pray for their business, even Muslims. We prayed for people’s children, health, and families. No one received Christ, but a few said they would try to make a service at Hindu Mandel. I think probably they were just being polite, but we’ll see. It’s obvious that they believed God could help their wallets, so hopefully they believe that He can change their lives.

The FoH kids did a great job. They served as our interpreters, but they also had a lot of initiative. Joseph did a lot of talking with several people, especially the last man. He was Muslim, and didn’t want us to pray for him. I only spoke a little, but did most of the praying. Generally, we worked in two groups, with Debbie and the girls working together while the guys and I operated close by in the same area.

After lunch, we grouped with another set of students form Form One, and we went back to the children’s prison. There, we taught about teeth, and I also spoke on Christ’s family and our freedom from our past. Jason gave a more evangelistic sermon. I spoke from Mt. 1 and 2Cor. 5. I also tried to lead a song. It didn’t go so well. It’s been way too long since I played guitar.

The students did a drama and spoke on prayer. We also did some singing, and gave out some candy. I was really touched again by the sense that the Warden really cares about those kids, or at least that is the impression I get. He’s been very encouraging when we’ve been there, urging the children to interact and pay attention.

I always have fun with the Form One students. They operate with a lot of joy, and it’s so amazing to see how dedicated they are to the outreach they do in the children’s prison and on the street. I know that all of us piling into a dalla dalla was surely a funny sight. I wish I had a picture of it. I think it was not quite so enjoyable for some of our team members, as personal hygiene becomes a critical issue when you’ve got twenty-six people crammed into a sixteen passenger mini-bus. You just can’t help but notice, but it’s just something you’ve got to deal with and get over. Once I embraced the situation, it was actually kind of fun. It’s a bit like being in a big dog pile.

So, yesterday we went to the crater. The drive in was fairly uneventful, because there was a lot of fog and cloud cover. We cold barely see twenty feet out the windows. I’d heard enough beforehand to know that coming in and out of the crater can be quite frightening. I guess the fog helped, because the only scary thing was that we could have had a head-on collision on the narrow road and barely known it was coming before the impact.

We’ve also had the chance to see some road construction, Tanzania style. You know what they use for highway cones? Rocks. Big rocks. At first I thought there’d been a rockslide, but it turns out that was just to keep the cars from driving into the people working, because it was so foggy you couldn’t see the people (or the hole in the road they were waist deep in) when you were driving around the rocks. Looking back on it, I’d say the rocks are pretty effective. I mean, you can drive over a highway cone without messing up your car. It’s tough to run over basketball size rocks without doing some damage though. Oh, and yeah, construction was all shovel powered on the crater road. Our first stop in the crater (after we checked in at the entry office) was a Masai boma. They charged $50 for the entire truckload to enter. They did some customary singing and dancing (jumping); I actually jumped with them. Obviously, these were fairly commercialized Masai, because they had all their jewelry and items spread out to buy.

They took us into one of their hats, where we saw how they lived. The smoke from the small fire really stung my eyes. The interior of the hut is all black from soot. They have about four rooms, really: one where the wife and children sleep, one for the man, adjacent is the cooking/main room, and then a room for a calf or storage near the door. The whole thing may be 150sqft. We took a couple of quick pictures, while our guide told us about their way of life. He has three wives but only one at that boma.

Masai huts are standard mud, cow crap, and stick construction. I say “standard”, because many houses in Africa are made from the same materials, but with different architecture: square instead of “beehive-esque” like the Masai huts. The house is framed up with saplings and covered on the outside with the mud/poo mixture. There are small holes for ventilation and a port for a door. Like I said, this stick/mud construction is used in a lot of housing in poorer areas, however in those houses, they have more westernized wall/roof construction. Noticing this led to my “crappy house” theory on education in Africa. That being: children are much more interested and diligent in school when they are faced with the prospect of living in a poop house if they don’t have an education. I mean… that’s solid capitalistic motivation right there. Get an education or build your house out of animal litter. You’d be amazed at how well the kids paid attention in class.

After we left the hut, we looked at their stuff for sale. Like I said, these Masai were very commercialized. Even while we were looking others would come up to sell things. Our guide tried to keep us in one section, for apparently these were the items his family had made and he would receive the money from that sale.

The prices were quite high, so I didn’t really buy much. Just two small bracelets for $20. I wanted a club, stick, blanket, or spear, but they were really high. We got the same stuff in Moshi later at much better prices. It’s funny; they yell at you if you take their picture in town, but for $50 they’ll invite you into their home, take YOUR picture in their house for you, and dance and sing. “Here, pose with the kids!” We kind of joked about the possibility of them having an RV encampment just over the ridge that we couldn’t see, with hot-tubs and plasma TVs, because there were at least four truckloads of people that stopped while we were there. I can see them all sitting on their leather couches, drinking martinis, and laughing about the stupid mzungu. It’s not that I blame them, but it does seem that money cures a lot of problems.

We proceeded on to the crater, seeing cape buffalo, wildebeest, hartebeest, jackals, various birds, baboons, elephants, gazelle, hippos, and even some lions. Rhinos were sorely lacking and dearly missed. Apparently, those are very rare and hard to see.

The massive number of animals was amazing. At one point, a herd of wildebeest (and probably various other ungulates) strung out for at least half a mile. We also enjoyed breathtaking vistas over and over as we drove past calderas with the crater rim constantly in the background. The rim gives you a sense of always being near a range of hills or mountains, and so you always have it as a back drop in your photos. Granted, the crater is something like 12 miles across, so the rim isn’t always large in the background, but it’s almost always visible.

We got to see a pride of lions fairly closely. It was easy to spot where they were because of the traffic jam of vehicles lining both sides of the road. Lions are popular. They are the jocks and cheerleaders of Ngorongoro High. I don’t even know what you’d classify a rhino as… maybe like if you went to high school with John Wayne’s kids or something. I’m not sure how anyone could ever be cooler than that.

We stopped for lunch by a lake, where there were bathrooms and hippos to watch. Oh, and birds. Lots of birds. You had to be careful, because there were apparently falcons that would take your hand off to get your sandwich if you gave them the opportunity. A lot of the little birds were really aggressive also. They would land within feet of you to try to nab a snack. Some even went inside our truck after a peanut. Funny enough, there were (crested) guineas all over the place also. I suppose they are native here.

I guess the highlight of the day would be the elephant that just about climbed into the truck with us. I now have new found respect for those things. This one was eating a thorn tree/bush. And when I say thorns, I mean thorns: four inch long wooden nails really. I don’t know how it kept from piercing its own tongue, but it didn’t seem to be bothered at all. The elephant would just reach out with its trunk, yank a bunch of thorny limbs off the bush, and chow down like it was celery or something. I must have taken seventy five pictures of it, because it was so close to us. It ended up crossing the road and moving on, barely paying any attention to us. I guess SUVs full of white people just don’t impress like they used to.

The drive out was vastly different from the drive in. The sky had cleared mostly, and we could see how close and how steep the edge was. It is a dramatic and frightening drive. We saw paint scrapes on the side of the road wall (it was cut out of the crater rim, so the sides were sheer) where vehicles couldn’t quite make the hairpin turns. You could look out the other side of the vehicle and not really see any hillside, it was too steep. You had to look ahead or behind to really see the ground fall away.

At the top, we stopped and took some photos, since its some 2000ft above the bottom of the crater. I was a little disappointed in the pictures, because the floor is so far down that it’s difficult to show in a photo. Plus, it was so hazy that it’s hard to see the details in a photo like you can in person. There were a couple monuments there for people who’d died doing research and protecting the crater from poachers. Some had died in animal attacks, or plane crashes. I think a couple were killed by poachers hunting rhinos. Poaching of large game is an act that really makes you disappointed in humanity (and aware of our real need for redemption). I’ll leave it to you to research it online (beware, the pictures can be disturbing), but it really is a stupid, petty way to make a buck.

Our drive home was mostly uneventful; we stopped at a couple of high priced shops, where barely anything was purchased. Beware, tourist traps are alive and well in those parts. If you really want to go shopping for souvenirs, do it in Moshi.

Oh, I did need to mention that we found out that the Masai spearheads are manufactured in a factory in Arusha. And after we left the boma, we stopped before entering the crater. Other Masai approached us selling their special blankets… they were still in the packages! This led to a unique revelation… the items you buy in stores in Moshi are basically just as authentic as what you buy from the Masai directly, only much cheaper. I guess it would be cool to say that you’d bought something directly from the tribe (thus the two bracelets that I paid $20 for), but that’s the only difference in the actual product. It’s funny to see “Made in Arusha” on the blanket packages though. As a comparison, those two bracelets would’ve cost probably $5-$8 in Moshi.

We got to see a lot of impressive artwork in our shopping. The woodcarvings are excellent, and some of the bowls and soapstone works are really beautiful. I wish I’d had some more space (and money) so I could’ve gotten one of the knife paintings. It’s hard to describe the style, but it’s a painting done in a way that all the figures are really vertically stretched and angular. The presentation is beautiful. Generally, the subjects seemed to be Masai people, and it accented some of the attributes you think of when you see Masai. That is, that they are tall, thin, and dominated by primary colors. It’s a great artistic representation.

Anyway, we did stop on the way home for Kim to buy some red bananas in the town that had trees covered in crane poop near Lake Manyara. It still stank. The bananas were great though. The red ones don’t taste any different. The little stubby bananas are the best. Tastey.

The biggest scare (of the entire time in Africa, I think) was driving through Arusha at night. People are everywhere. We saw one man that looks like he was struck by a car. Bicycles come out of nowhere. It’s hard to see anyone in the dark, and the street lighting is really poor. All of us were cringing so much, I think it would have been easier if I would have just closed my eyes and not known about it. Really scary, but we made it home ok. We unloaded, said goodbye to Daniel, and went to bed following some discussion and prayer. We also prayed over the items we purchased, just in case.

Today we woke up and left at 8AM for safari (actually, they call it a “game drive,” since I think technically safari can refer to any type of journey). First, we drove to change some money, and then to FoZ to drop some it off for the shirts that are being made by FoJ. They needed more cloth to finish the shirts.

The road out of Moshi to the northwest is actually pretty decent. It’s better than chip and seal, and for the most part is pretty smooth. The African countryside has a blend of interestingly different and surprisingly normal landscapes. You see plenty of maize, and people just walking around, or some greenhouses on a hillside, but then you see a monkey, or a cactus tree (I wish I’d have gotten a picture) and realize that this ain’t Colorado.

We saw many Masai, their villages (or reputedly, ONE Masai’s village, with his multiple wives and hundreds of children.. it’s a long storey), baobab, acacia, coffee, banana, and other crazy trees. Cactus trees, sausage trees. Cactus trees are exactly what they sound like. It’s a tree, but when you look closely, the branches and everything… it’s a big cactus. Again, I got no pictures (sorry), but it’s one of the craziest things ever. Sausage trees are pretty unique also, but unfortunately, they are not edible (sadness).

The drive from Moshi to Arusha is a gentle climb. Because of that, the land gets gradually greener along the way. One of the striking things is that there seem to be banana trees everywhere. You see them growing out of creek banks, in front yards, and randomly poking out in ditches on the side of the road. I guess it is Africa’s monstrous analogue to daffodils. This does mean that I have eaten the absolute best bananas I’ve ever tasted here. I suppose freshness counts for something.

We’ve also seen some fields of coffee. It’s not a tree, like I thought. It’s really just a bush. They plant shade trees throughout the fields to shade the coffee as it grows. Apparently this gives it better flavor. I don’t drink coffee, but Sean claims that even the instant coffee he’s had here is pretty good. It’s kind of funny, all the stuff that we don’t grow in Arkansas they apparently grow here. Bananas, mangos (ooohhh the mangos are good!), coffee, papaya… you just see it hanging on trees over here. We also saw a few rice fields… it’s not done with quite the same panache as it is in the US. People here just muck around with hoes and stuff. I don’t think we’ve come across any John Deere service centers recently. There is a Ford dealer in Arusha though. The trucks don’t look the same.

We’ve crossed the Usa (pronounced oo-suh) river. Arusha has some larger, more impressive buildings, but even these are surrounded by the small one and two story dirty concrete staples. I think they must have a “square beige concrete building” factory somewhere around here.

We drove through Arusha and headed for Lake Manyara. Close to the entrance to the park, we drove through a town (can’t remember the name) with some really, really impressively huge trees. Unfortunately, the trees were home to some special crane or something. Half the town was covered in a light colored dust… crane poop. I can’t really describe the smell, except to say that we made the mistake of having the windows open, and we paid dearly for that lack of foresight. It’s sort of an acrid, ammonia smell. I’m not sure why anyone would build there house under that, but people did. I suppose if that’s the land you’ve got, that’s where you build your house. Wow did it stink though.

In the park, we saw baboons, bush bucks, dikdik, impalas, giraffes, cape buffalo, elephant, blue monkeys, vervet monkeys (with blue scrotums… seriously), tree hyrax, flamingos, hippos, wildebeest, zebras, and a variety of birds. Also, warthogs and some other monkeys. Bonus fact: the John Wayne movie “Hatari” was filmed in the Arusha area near Lake Manyara and Ngorongoro.

Out of all of it, the most memorable moment for me was when we finally came out into the open by the lake (most of the park is trees with roads cut in it) and could see giraffes in the distance. I think they have to be the most impressive animal I’ve ever seen. The males are huge! You see them walking around, and it’s a little hard to believe something like that should exist. Plus, they actually move pretty gracefully for a thing that’s basically a neck with legs. One of my “welcome to Africa” moments was seeing a giraffe walking by a group of zebras in front of a flamingo covered lake that was fed by a hot spring that’s heated by underground volcanic activity. Toss in a few acacia trees, and you’ve got a Disney movie.

The lake (as I mentioned) is fed by hot springs. It’s an alkali lake, and is very shallow (3-5m). The spring was very hot, as it was heated by volcano. The whole area lies in the Great Rift Valley, which stretches some 10,000km from the middle east across eastern Africa. We walked down to where a spring came out of the hillside. It’s hot. Really hot. I’m pretty sure you could cook with it. Lake Manyara is home to something like three million flamingos. I’m not even kidding: you see more pink and white than blue when you look at the water.

There were a couple of interesting incidents near the end of our day in Lake Manyara. First, we were trying to get over to the hippo pond before the park closes at night, and a large bull elephant was blocking the road. Now, in the parks, the animals have the right of way. You are not allowed to honk or push them out of the way, because you’re in there home, right? Well, this elephant decided he was just going to stay there. I think he was a little bothered by us, because he was flapping his ears and kicking up dust at us. We sat there waiting for nearly five minutes before Daniel (our driver) decided to turn around take the long way. Elephants can be dangerous. In some parks, they’ve been known to flip vehicles over occasionally, so you’ve got to be careful.

So, we made it to the hippo pond where, honestly, things were pretty boring. You see, hippos live in the water (shocking, I know), so, there’s really not much to see except hippo backs. It just looks like a shoal of big smooth rocks. But, to our benefit, one male did decide to come up on the bank for us. Yes… we know it was male; it was kind of obvious. The funny part was that we discovered one of the more disgusting habits that exists in the animal world. Hippos whirl their poop around with their tails like a propeller. They even do it in the water. Supposedly they do it to help mark their territory, as it distributes the feces over a larger area than just letting it fall. This guy did it in the water, and then again when he got up on the bank. Karibu Tanzania! Have some hippo poop! Don’t drink the water!
We did not see the tree climbing lions, or any other cats (like leopards). Lake Manyara is evidently the only place in the world where you can find tree climbing lions. I think we did see a couple of lions lying in the sade *under* a tree, but we did not, in fact, see any in the trees themselves.

Our lodge is over the ridge in another town (Keratu). It’s the Kutu lodge. Nice place. Toilet doesn’t work very well though. They did have passion fruit Fanta though, so that’s a plus. The minus is that it’s a tourist resort, so they charge extravagantly for it. Oh well, at least the food was good… but so far I’ve like most of the food here.

Leaving Lake Manyara, we had to climb a huge escarpment (they don’t call it the Great Rift Valley for nothing). On the top, we stopped to gaze out over the valley below. It is a really beautiful sight. The valley floor and the lake rest about 2000ft below the top of the valley walls. I don’t believe the portion we reached was quit that high, but it was breathtaking nonetheless.

Tomorrow- Ngorongoro