JL | journal

I doubt these three options exhaust our lives; a more common comparison is between Money and Health, or Money and Happiness.

On the way walking from UAACC - United African Alliance Community Center - out to the main road, I asked my company - Steve, Susie, and a rasta guy Mwalimu(or something like that) - how they would rank the three.

Mwalimu: Money > Time > Friends.
Susie: Friends > Time > Money.
Steve: Money > Friends > Time.

What is Time by the way? Time for yourself? Is time equivalent to longevity?

When I asked the question I hadn’t put much though into it. Now, as I think about it more, I think Time is time for yourself. Time to do what you want.
Susie would give up her money first, and if necessary her personal time, for her friends.

Of course, the context is important. There are times that we would give up one for the other and other times we wouldn’t. So for simplicity’s sake, let’s assume that for the rest of your life, you’ll have to live without one of the three, and one of the three you’ll have for certain, the other will only show up randomly 50% of the time.

Me: Time > Friends > Money.

I think I can live in the woods, without any money, on my own working on my goals, and have friends visit me once in a while. It’s really a hard call, actually, friends make my life. But I would be more disappointed, I think, if at the end of my life I have only achieved half of my goals, or half of every goal.

How would you rank the three? and, if you want, why?

“You come here with your laptop computers, your malaria medicine and you little bottles of hand sanitizer and think you can change the outcome, huh?”

–Danny Archer to Maddy Bowen, in Blood Diamond.

Between the growingly intense and gruesome massacres in the film, Emily made a comment, “This is not the best place to watch this film… Africa I mean.”

It was the best place to watch the film, I thought.

We tell ourselves, we come here to get a taste of ‘reality’. When we spend weekends at bars and clubs and fancy restaurants that prices quite reasonably for American’s standard, spending 2000 Tsh a beer, 5000 Tsh a bottle of Konyagi–the local form of gin, kind of-and exploding our vehicle with American music, we were so close to reality.

I wonder how close to reality this film is. Far, probably. Despite of that, and the plenty compliments about this film that I have heard, it still exceeded my expectation. It may bother some people that it is another one of these movies where a Hollywood movie star (white one, of course) plays the hero, saves lives, kills 200 villains before getting a scratch. Perhaps it is a little bit of that. But I thought, Leonardo’s part could not be played by an African, or an African American, for that matter. That was the whole point of it. It was about this white guy exploiting Africa, and through his pursuit of the blood diamond blah blah blah realized blah blah blah. It’s the white people. It’s the WHITE PEOPLE.*

I came here with my laptop computer(with which I watched Blood Diamond), my malaria medicine and my little bottles of hand sanitizer and think, hm, I can change the out come.

• btw, I am not white. Nonetheless I also fall into the category of Mzungu.

When I told him I am actually from Hong Kong, Man was really surprised. From his experience, most people from Hong Kong make sure that they come from Hong Kong, not China. Similar situation with Taiwanese, but that is a little different, of course. In 20 years or less, though, it will be hard to say. It is the economical war, and China is the sweeping army. This is only my shallow opinion, but Man agrees with me completely.

Man’s real name is Mansoor, and he’s from Pakistan. He works for the UN as, I don’t remember what exactly his job title is, an officer that goes around observing the military. Military Observer, I suppose. He works in DR Congo, where he goes to work everyday in helmets and bullet proof vests. When I met him he is taking his vacation near the niles, training himself to go down the nile with his solo kayak. (more…)

Yesterday, my chore duty was to water baby thorn bushes around our fence. 2.5 acre of land requires quite a long fence, and a lot of thorn bushes to surround it. It was a tedious and boring task, and with such a task, one’s ability to do the work with great attention is limited. That was my excuse. As it turns out, we were all watering the bigger, healthier and more easily noticeable saplings. Some of the already weaker ones were, unfortunately, neglected.

There are so many street kids in Arusha - 8,000 according to Hori and more-than-1,000 according to Emmanuel, an ex-street kid now staying at CCF - but the orphanage that OHS is building will have the capacity of about 25-30 upon completion. How do we make the choices? Personal preference? I suppose, the brighter, livelier, easier to talk with kids.

I personally watered 50,000Tsh and two hours onto Mohammed today.

I could not help but notice that some saplings around the fence is turning yellow and their stems curling.

He has already been approached by the coach of the youth national team, but he refused. He wants to finish his secondary education first - that is exactly what he was doing, and what he would be doing, had he not been forced out of school because he could not afford his school fees for this term. (more…)

八月十五，我哥哥的生日。

我沒忘記，不過當天我身在前往烏干達的長途巴士（共十七小時）之上，無法聯絡。抱歉。

這部落格文章是送給哥哥的遲來的生日禮物。

記得小事一樁。

童年時過的某一個生日，不知為何（大概又是被大哥氣弄）很不高興。哭得瓜瓜聲的我，把自己反鎖了在房間，晚飯都不要吃。一時有個主意：讓眼淚滴在大拇指上，然後在一張小紙上打了一個指模。紙上寫了幾個字，應該是有個「愛」字的。衝出房間，呈上小紙，又再反鎖自己。

不久之後，沒有再哭了。出來吃飯了。

哥哥（兩個）都很疼我。我也很疼哥哥。

生日，肉麻一點無所謂了吧。:-)

> more in flickr.

This orphanage in Arusha town - CCF (as title) - is, ironically, left with only children. Daniel Smith brought me here, and I am now quite acquainted with the boys here.

When I was a kid, the word ‘model’ meant BB Gundams. (damn, I miss them.)

When I was a teenager, and a little beyond that, the word ‘model’ meant attractive men and women. (A lot of skinny boys that I never understood what’s attractive about them.)

When I was at the Architecture program, ‘model’ meant Xacto and 4-ply and 2-ply and 8-ply cardboards and fake grass and Elmer’s and 60cm metal rulers.

When I am in Tanzania now, ‘model’ means 1.) a program that does what it promises to do, achieves what it aims for, should be replicated, and sustainable regardless of its mantra; 2.) a person that acts the way he/she teaches/expects others to.

I am here to find models, and striving to be one myself.

Daladala is the Tanzanian equivalent of minibuses in Hong Kong, except that it takes the form of a usually-9-person minivan and will occasionally fit (so far, to my experience) up to 28 persons. Despite their thorough concern of safety for the passengers, it is a rather interesting and even addictive experience. After the first introduction to the actual riding of a daladala by Jacob about two weeks ago, I’ve been almost taking it every other day since then. (more…)

> click on the images for more, in flickr.