addendum

On the drive home, Jenga still had the radio on. Instead of the man sleeping, it now featured him counting down from an indeterminate number that was greater than 36, 655. He counted in a regular, measured voice and had reached somewhere in the mid 36,300's when I made it home. I'm sure the whole broadcast was intended as some form of protest, but I fervently believe that protests are best when they give some indication of what, exactly, is being protested. Jenga had no idea, but he listened anyway. I'm not sure whether the counting or his listening to the counting was the more impressive.

Bands I Have Been In or Been: a retrospective while I download satellite imagery on a slow connection

1997: S'
1998: Wake
1998: Lurk
1999-2000: Rocinante
2001: Lamar
2002: Fuera de Contra
2002: The Electric Elvis Cocktail/The Busters
2003: The Short Bus Kids
2004: Benny Profane
2005: S'

the commute

The official KEMRI truck picks me up each morning and drives me, furiously, to the Institute. I believe the driver's name is Jenga. The ride apparently used to be twice as long and to involve considerably more wading in mud. Now the roads are mostly paved. We make one stop at the entomology labs affiliated with Walter Reed. They're on a busy corner of Kisumu entirely covered in shoe venders. Shoes are carefully arranged along and across the sidewalks, and the merchants polish them endlessly. One recent innovation in sidewalk shoe sales is the vertical display, a wooden rack that lets passing traffic inspect the wares. Vertical wooden shoe racks have sprung up around the city, clear indications of Kisumu's continued economic resurgence.

Jenga was listening to a popular morning radio program on today's drive, featuring a lone talk radio personality. The personality had been asleep, on air, for three hours when I tuned in. His snores varied in magnitude, but his breathing was consistent. Jenga insisted we listen to the snoring throughout our commute.

Traveling can be spelled with one or two l's

I'm writing from my newfound workstation at the Kenya Medical Research Institute (KEMRI, if you will), a walled compound housing a diverse group of Kenyan, American, and non-denominational researchers. The CDC's facilities are here, in an amazingly modern building that is somewhat posher than those in Atlanta. I am enthusiastically prevented from entering it unless I have an appointment.

The flights that deposited me here were very long and very dull, though otherwise unremarkable. The massive Boeing 747 which successfuly landed in Naiobi has an upper deck, while the 777, despite a wingspan of 60.9 meters, does not. The 777 which carried me over the Atlantic does, however, have brilliantly comfortable lounge seating with luxurious, fully reclinable seats. It also has a cramped economy section, where I sat. Curiously, the 777 is, according to Boeing, also the first plane to have a rose named after it. "The rose is deep purple-red with a citrus-like fragrance," and "was developed by Olympia, Wash., Western Independent Nurseries."

I found the propeller plane that carried me from Nairobi to Kisumu at an irrationally early hour to lack both comfortable seating and an ability to inspire me to breed rose hybrids. When it came time to board, we were waved through the gate onto the tarmac and pointed in roughly the general direction of the plane. My fellow passengers and I wandered around the parked aircraft as if trying to find a forgotten car in the long-term economy lot. After an aborted attempt to board a flight to Mombasa, we succesfully found the turbo-prop and were rewarded with locally roasted peanuts.