Just to remind you that the tugboat still looms large in daily life. Other than that, nothin' much is happening. Work. Work. And a little more work.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Monday, September 19, 2005
Turning 35
Since it's my birthday tomorrow, I thought I would follow Julee tradition and share a gift with you: the worst poem ever written in the English language. It delights my soul.
A Tragedy
Death!
Plop.
The barges down the river flop.
Flop. Plop,
Above, beneath.
From the slimy branches the grey drips drop...
To the oozy waters, that lounge and flop...
And my head shrieks - "Stop"
And my heart shrieks - "Die"....
Enough! I can't torture you any more. If you want to read more, I highly recommend Very Bad Poetry. This particular masterpiece, by Theophile Marzials, stands out.
Enjoy!
A Tragedy
Death!
Plop.
The barges down the river flop.
Flop. Plop,
Above, beneath.
From the slimy branches the grey drips drop...
To the oozy waters, that lounge and flop...
And my head shrieks - "Stop"
And my heart shrieks - "Die"....
Enough! I can't torture you any more. If you want to read more, I highly recommend Very Bad Poetry. This particular masterpiece, by Theophile Marzials, stands out.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Late August blues
I'm getting restless again. Laurence laughed when I mentioned this and asked where I would have to be sent this time to chase the blues away... I've been asked to do a temporary assignment in Afghanistan for two months, which would probably chase them away for good! Anyways, that decision is still pending, so here I am in DC, scurrying along with the other rats, hoping to finish the race with grace and good humor.
Off I run.
Off I run.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Chameaux sunbathing on the beach in Tadjoura
I went to Tadjoura today, a small township on the other side of the Gulf of Tadjoura, just an hour away from Djibouti-ville by boat. By Land Cruiser, two and a half hours.
But what a trip!
Inactive volcanoes suddenly popping out of the landscape, hardened lava flows creating dripping black walls along the side of the road. Salt patches dotting the slopes of mountains. The gulf itself glistening below us, then next to us, as we descend and descend along numerous switchbacks. Strange animals – no, wait, baboons! – scurrying across the blacktop, congregating on the bushes on the side of the road to feast and play. Baboons in the desert! Camels lazing on the beach in Tadjoura, like great, bloated tourists.
It was almost too much to take in. As a result, I’m absolutely exhausted, but I must keep writing before I forget.
A “water” team from USAID wanted to visit the schools in Tadjoura to get a sense of the schools where water was difficult to access. As the people who are working in the schools, we went along for a site visit and, well, sheer curiosity. The first school was accessible by a dirt road that wound its way along the spine of several mountains; I envisioned my death at least four times and it wasn’t much fun in any scenario. When we reached the school, a pristine concrete building padlocked for the summer, we were greeted by extremely curious children and very cautious women. I am assuming the men were out somewhere – tending goats, chameaux, or perhaps chewing khat, the hallucinogen of choice in Djibouti, particularly for truck drivers.
Next to the school stood an old, decrepit water tower constructed of failing concrete. The women said that there was a water source that was piped in, yet it wasn’t enough. We went to investigate the source of the water on a route that took us truly into four-wheel drive territory: straight down a mountainside into the valley below, where a small oasis grew out of the spillage that dribbled out from the spring. The road was narrow, lined with rocks, and – at times – dropped at an angle of 30 – 40 degrees. It was almost breathtaking, particularly as we came closer and closer to the edge of the “road”.
When we arrived at the bottom of the valley, having followed the water pipes all the way down, we were greeted by a small gaggle of children, some of whom were visibly upset... “Freaked out by the foreigners” is probably more apt. One of our uber-sensitive water team members immediately pulled out her camera and snapped about five photos of them, without asking permission, ignoring the little whimpers of terror. I hate this kind of behavior – you always ask, but before that, you make sure that the situation is appropriate. That moment was definitely inappropriate.
The well was a bit further beyond, a shared and ancient resource for the people who dwelled in the surrounding mountains. A family of chameaux watched us warily, groaning and grunting with their half-strangled voices; we watched them too, wondering if they’d come and storm the water source.
All of this seems incredibly banal the way I’m writing it, but it wasn’t! It was odd and dislocated, incredibly hot and very familiar, like I had been there before and knew what it would be like, but then all of a sudden there were baboons in the most unlikely place ever. (I blame this sense of familiarity on too much reading and watching “Wild Kingdom” in the 1970s.) As we bounced down the mountain path we were listening to the Fugees’ cover of "Killing Me Softly", throughout which I had to suppress the urge to yell, “Turn it off! You’re tainting my Djiboutian desert mountain valley experience with memories of teaching 8th grade English!” But I didn’t. I sat there and watched the world bounce by.
The water source was fine, the motor new and strong, the piping sturdy. The real problem was the shabbily constructed water tower, which turned out to only be 2 years old, instead of 50. Ah. Problem solved – the USG would be very happy to build you a new water tower, o Djiboutian village, in exchange for access to the deepest port on the entrance of the Red Sea and the rights to build a military base with lots of American soldiers. And those soldiers would be joining the Germans, the French Legionnaires, the... Ay yi yi.
More on the rest of the day anon... Must get back to work!
But what a trip!
Inactive volcanoes suddenly popping out of the landscape, hardened lava flows creating dripping black walls along the side of the road. Salt patches dotting the slopes of mountains. The gulf itself glistening below us, then next to us, as we descend and descend along numerous switchbacks. Strange animals – no, wait, baboons! – scurrying across the blacktop, congregating on the bushes on the side of the road to feast and play. Baboons in the desert! Camels lazing on the beach in Tadjoura, like great, bloated tourists.
It was almost too much to take in. As a result, I’m absolutely exhausted, but I must keep writing before I forget.
A “water” team from USAID wanted to visit the schools in Tadjoura to get a sense of the schools where water was difficult to access. As the people who are working in the schools, we went along for a site visit and, well, sheer curiosity. The first school was accessible by a dirt road that wound its way along the spine of several mountains; I envisioned my death at least four times and it wasn’t much fun in any scenario. When we reached the school, a pristine concrete building padlocked for the summer, we were greeted by extremely curious children and very cautious women. I am assuming the men were out somewhere – tending goats, chameaux, or perhaps chewing khat, the hallucinogen of choice in Djibouti, particularly for truck drivers.
Next to the school stood an old, decrepit water tower constructed of failing concrete. The women said that there was a water source that was piped in, yet it wasn’t enough. We went to investigate the source of the water on a route that took us truly into four-wheel drive territory: straight down a mountainside into the valley below, where a small oasis grew out of the spillage that dribbled out from the spring. The road was narrow, lined with rocks, and – at times – dropped at an angle of 30 – 40 degrees. It was almost breathtaking, particularly as we came closer and closer to the edge of the “road”.
When we arrived at the bottom of the valley, having followed the water pipes all the way down, we were greeted by a small gaggle of children, some of whom were visibly upset... “Freaked out by the foreigners” is probably more apt. One of our uber-sensitive water team members immediately pulled out her camera and snapped about five photos of them, without asking permission, ignoring the little whimpers of terror. I hate this kind of behavior – you always ask, but before that, you make sure that the situation is appropriate. That moment was definitely inappropriate.
The well was a bit further beyond, a shared and ancient resource for the people who dwelled in the surrounding mountains. A family of chameaux watched us warily, groaning and grunting with their half-strangled voices; we watched them too, wondering if they’d come and storm the water source.
All of this seems incredibly banal the way I’m writing it, but it wasn’t! It was odd and dislocated, incredibly hot and very familiar, like I had been there before and knew what it would be like, but then all of a sudden there were baboons in the most unlikely place ever. (I blame this sense of familiarity on too much reading and watching “Wild Kingdom” in the 1970s.) As we bounced down the mountain path we were listening to the Fugees’ cover of "Killing Me Softly", throughout which I had to suppress the urge to yell, “Turn it off! You’re tainting my Djiboutian desert mountain valley experience with memories of teaching 8th grade English!” But I didn’t. I sat there and watched the world bounce by.
The water source was fine, the motor new and strong, the piping sturdy. The real problem was the shabbily constructed water tower, which turned out to only be 2 years old, instead of 50. Ah. Problem solved – the USG would be very happy to build you a new water tower, o Djiboutian village, in exchange for access to the deepest port on the entrance of the Red Sea and the rights to build a military base with lots of American soldiers. And those soldiers would be joining the Germans, the French Legionnaires, the... Ay yi yi.
More on the rest of the day anon... Must get back to work!
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Shakin' my (dji)bouti!!!
Greetings from Djibouti! Today I went to Ali Sabieh, near the border of Somalia and Ethiopia, which was unlike anything I’ve seen before. Perhaps the closest comparison would be some images shot by NASA on Mars. Not a unique comparison, but true. Yet no matter how desert-like the landscape, and how short the drive, the vista was infinitely variable. Lava rocks here, mountains there, a lake suddenly created by rainfall miles and miles away, camels chewing their cud solemnly on the side of the road... It was invigorating. And Ali Sabieh was cool! It was in the mid-80s with a brisk cool wind. Dang. I was expecting Lawrence of Arabia heat and horror.
We traveled by Land Cruiser down Djibouti’s notorious high-risk corridor: a heavily trafficked truck route between Djibouti’s lucrative port and Ethiopia. The high-risk comes not only from dodging dodgy overloaded trucks on the dusty and winding highway, but from prostitution along the trucking route that spreads SIDA (HIV/AIDS). We had a frank little conversation in the car about the benefits of regulating prostitution... Ah, I love development work. And our conversation was in three languages: English, French (oh, Julee, why don’t you learn French?), and Somali. We all got the gist.
I now know the French word for camel is chameau – okay, I’m not too sure of the spelling, but I know it sounds like “Shamu”. (I kept envisioning the killer whale every time my colleague from Mali would elbow me in the side and yell, “Chameau!”) They were everywhere: lean eating machines, chewing their cud and loping through the desert brush. I had one of those “I can’t believe this is my job” moments, which occasionally strike me when confronted with anything that is the polar opposite of my New Hampshire childhood. I can’t believe this is my job... I am so, so lucky.
Must dash, my friends.... Implementation plans to write.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Juicy little trip forthcoming! Shake your (Dji)bouti...
I leave on Friday for Djibouti. This is my first trip to Africa. Ever. I don't speak French, except for whatever I learned from Pepe Le Peu from Looney Tunes. This might be a bit of a barrier, but...
I will have a digital camera, so tune in for updates, written and visual, from Djibouti-ville on Monday.
Au revoir! (Boy, I better prepare myself for this...!)
I will have a digital camera, so tune in for updates, written and visual, from Djibouti-ville on Monday.
Au revoir! (Boy, I better prepare myself for this...!)
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Midsummer blues
There has been a decided lack of excitement recently: our operational plans and budgets are due next week, numbers must be crunched (and spat out on the floor), boxes must be ticked, etc. I'm good at tolerating all of this when I know there's some juicy little escape around the corner: a visit to our field office in Dhaka, a conference in Istanbul, a little trip up to Westport, a trip on the tug... Nothing.
Sigh. I shall follow the rule of the Daily Dancer and dance in the morning before I come to work. That should make it better, no?
http://dailydancer.com/
Sigh. I shall follow the rule of the Daily Dancer and dance in the morning before I come to work. That should make it better, no?
http://dailydancer.com/
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Monday, June 13, 2005
She's a bit closer...
Good morning. Well, I had great hopes of posting audio blogs all weekend, but for some bizarre reason the blog access number did not work, so no audio blogs. (I don't think you can blame the user for this one!) Nothing really that riveting happened: no storms, no injuries, no accidental warping of the ship's hull, etc. It was just a lovely weekend, worth mentioning quickly and simply.
We left Baltimore in the early afternoon without event. Still cursed with the triple H's (as we are today, too), the breeze on the water was refreshing. The water was filled with pleasure craft, but none so special and unique as the Wendy B -- I do acknowledge the allure of an old, sweet tug! Whenever we tie up we have people waiting for us with questions, hoping to be asked on board. Anyways, we chugged down the Chesapeake and anchored out in the Eastern Bay at night, about 1 mile offshore. It was beautiful -- once we did all of our little chores, like trying to figure out how to turn on the anchor lights (we gave up), we sat on the back deck and looked up at the stars. No light pollution, few clouds, and an infinite expanse of mystery. It was so lovely it made my heart ache.
Sunday was equally uneventful and lovely. We pulled anchor at 6 am (why do they always insist on waking up so bloody early????) and made it to our destination to the boatyard in Cambridge, MD, about four hours ahead of schedule. Home by 7 pm. Wonderful.
I am a little overwhelmed at work at the moment, so this is going to be it for now... I'll let you know when our next adventure will be. If she's going to have body work done in Cambridge, we probably won't bring her back until early August, but things may change.
Enjoy!
We left Baltimore in the early afternoon without event. Still cursed with the triple H's (as we are today, too), the breeze on the water was refreshing. The water was filled with pleasure craft, but none so special and unique as the Wendy B -- I do acknowledge the allure of an old, sweet tug! Whenever we tie up we have people waiting for us with questions, hoping to be asked on board. Anyways, we chugged down the Chesapeake and anchored out in the Eastern Bay at night, about 1 mile offshore. It was beautiful -- once we did all of our little chores, like trying to figure out how to turn on the anchor lights (we gave up), we sat on the back deck and looked up at the stars. No light pollution, few clouds, and an infinite expanse of mystery. It was so lovely it made my heart ache.
Sunday was equally uneventful and lovely. We pulled anchor at 6 am (why do they always insist on waking up so bloody early????) and made it to our destination to the boatyard in Cambridge, MD, about four hours ahead of schedule. Home by 7 pm. Wonderful.
I am a little overwhelmed at work at the moment, so this is going to be it for now... I'll let you know when our next adventure will be. If she's going to have body work done in Cambridge, we probably won't bring her back until early August, but things may change.
Enjoy!
Friday, June 10, 2005
Wendy B, Leg 3
The entire Washington, DC (aka "Swamp from Hell) area has been stricken by a case of the triple H's: hazy, hot, humid. In spite of this, we're heading up to Baltimore tomorrow to bring the Wendy B a little closer to DC, but not quite to DC itself. We're getting an estimate on painting the hull, so she'll have a nice little vacation on the Eastern Shore while the crew slaves away at the bureaucratic grind. (Grr.)
So I will be Tugboat Julee once again. The concern: the boat is HOT when the engine is running, which was wonderful when it was 30' at night, but means there is no escape from the heat over the weekend. I think we'll be sleeping on deck at night, which might be a bit of a mosquito-fest for the local bloodsuckers.
I will do some audio posts over the weekend and try to borrow a digital camera... More tomorrow!
So I will be Tugboat Julee once again. The concern: the boat is HOT when the engine is running, which was wonderful when it was 30' at night, but means there is no escape from the heat over the weekend. I think we'll be sleeping on deck at night, which might be a bit of a mosquito-fest for the local bloodsuckers.
I will do some audio posts over the weekend and try to borrow a digital camera... More tomorrow!
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Next trip!
Good morning, sunshine. Sunshine? Hello? It's a classic HHH day in DC: hazy, hot, hellish (humid). Summer is here and I'm ready to be on the water.
We're going to bring Wendy B a little bit closer to home this weekend by bringing her into the Chesapeake with a stopover at a shipyard for an estimate on painting the hull. This means a nice, lazy weekend on the water, which is what I desperately need. I don't think I've been home for two consecutive weekends in a row for over two months now, which is beginning to wear on me slightly, but what a delight to be Tugboat Julee once again...
We're going to bring Wendy B a little bit closer to home this weekend by bringing her into the Chesapeake with a stopover at a shipyard for an estimate on painting the hull. This means a nice, lazy weekend on the water, which is what I desperately need. I don't think I've been home for two consecutive weekends in a row for over two months now, which is beginning to wear on me slightly, but what a delight to be Tugboat Julee once again...
Monday, June 06, 2005
Friday, June 03, 2005
Friday morning, Westport
My task for today is to pull together a consultant team to go out to East Africa and revitalize a project. I dreamed about this last night, which is never a good sign, but I was greeted by an e-mail from Mali this morning that brings another team member on board. Now for the last person... Hooray!
I have decided that I infinitely prefer tugboat Julee over stressed out worker bee Julee. (Of course, tugboat Julee is usually stressed out in other ways, and dirty, but she has a certain charm and charisma I find appealing.) Now to find the balance between the two! Anyways, Wendy B will make the last leg of the journey in mid-June and then she'll be in Washington. I've already alerted Laurence that I plan on spending every weekend on the boat; the entire SW boardwalk feels so different and alien from the rest of the city; I can almost convince myself that I'm somewhere else when I'm there. Ah. Sweet escape.
Must get a little more work done here at the hotel before going to work... More anon, o breathless readers.
I have decided that I infinitely prefer tugboat Julee over stressed out worker bee Julee. (Of course, tugboat Julee is usually stressed out in other ways, and dirty, but she has a certain charm and charisma I find appealing.) Now to find the balance between the two! Anyways, Wendy B will make the last leg of the journey in mid-June and then she'll be in Washington. I've already alerted Laurence that I plan on spending every weekend on the boat; the entire SW boardwalk feels so different and alien from the rest of the city; I can almost convince myself that I'm somewhere else when I'm there. Ah. Sweet escape.
Must get a little more work done here at the hotel before going to work... More anon, o breathless readers.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Back at work, Tuesday morning
I am utterly exhausted.
I woke up this morning so slothlike that I turned on the burner to heat the water for my cup of toxic tea, but left the kettle on the counter.
My nose is sunburned and doesn't match the rest of my body.
The dirt/oil on my hands is so embedded that a 25 minute scalding hot shower left the dirt untouched.
I haven't quite found my land legs -- I'm sitting here at my desk and I feel like I'm bobbing up and down, oh-so-very-gently.
But I had a wonderful time. Sure, there were a few unpleasant moments - okay, hours - but it was a wonderful escape from the world as I know it. The bay was flat yesterday afternoon, the sun was warm, all was right in the world.
Too tired to type more -- I should begin to dig through the e-mail that has accumulated since Thursday afternoon. 85 e-mail. A few look quite bad. Welcome back!
I woke up this morning so slothlike that I turned on the burner to heat the water for my cup of toxic tea, but left the kettle on the counter.
My nose is sunburned and doesn't match the rest of my body.
The dirt/oil on my hands is so embedded that a 25 minute scalding hot shower left the dirt untouched.
I haven't quite found my land legs -- I'm sitting here at my desk and I feel like I'm bobbing up and down, oh-so-very-gently.
But I had a wonderful time. Sure, there were a few unpleasant moments - okay, hours - but it was a wonderful escape from the world as I know it. The bay was flat yesterday afternoon, the sun was warm, all was right in the world.
Too tired to type more -- I should begin to dig through the e-mail that has accumulated since Thursday afternoon. 85 e-mail. A few look quite bad. Welcome back!
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Friday, May 27, 2005
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Thursday morning, blue skies. Yee-hah!
I now have witnesses to this blogging experiment! Very exciting. Howdy to Laurie up in Montreal! C'est va?
The sun is finally shining again on DC. (Literally. Figuratively, it'll take another 3.5 years or massive social unrest! Organize, my friends!) When Laurence, Gene and I returned from the first leg of Wendy B's journey to DC, we were greeted with Bangladeshi monsoon weather: torrential rain, high winds, thunderous skies. The rain was quickly over - and it was quite beautiful - but this grey dreck has been lingering for almost two weeks. Enough already! The forecast looks great for the weekend, so we'll go up to NYC as planned early tomorrow morning to ready the tug.
Yesterday I was sucked deeply into the blog vortex, which I must deny today! This will be my last written post until next Tuesday. Check in for some audio blogs over the weekend - expect to hear thrills on the high seas! (Or, more likely, Julee running at the mouth about nothing in particular.)
The sun is finally shining again on DC. (Literally. Figuratively, it'll take another 3.5 years or massive social unrest! Organize, my friends!) When Laurence, Gene and I returned from the first leg of Wendy B's journey to DC, we were greeted with Bangladeshi monsoon weather: torrential rain, high winds, thunderous skies. The rain was quickly over - and it was quite beautiful - but this grey dreck has been lingering for almost two weeks. Enough already! The forecast looks great for the weekend, so we'll go up to NYC as planned early tomorrow morning to ready the tug.
Yesterday I was sucked deeply into the blog vortex, which I must deny today! This will be my last written post until next Tuesday. Check in for some audio blogs over the weekend - expect to hear thrills on the high seas! (Or, more likely, Julee running at the mouth about nothing in particular.)
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Wendy B to Baltimore
On Friday morning Laurence and I will head up to NYC to prepare for the second leg of Wendy B's lengthy journey to Washington, DC. The first leg - Toronto to NYC - was filled with surprises: an exploding and horribly stinking head; non-functioning water pumps (and sad brown water when the water pump actually worked); a few bumps, bangs, and bruises (both the crew and the boat); and plenty of interpersonal drama. I could write a novel based on the 20 hours on Lake Ontario alone!
Our crew will consist of six people: Laurence, captain and galley slave's squeeze; me, galley slave; Gene, crew; Gene's currently nameless son, crew; Rick, galley slave's dad and crew; and Scott, crew. More anon... I really must get to work.
Our crew will consist of six people: Laurence, captain and galley slave's squeeze; me, galley slave; Gene, crew; Gene's currently nameless son, crew; Rick, galley slave's dad and crew; and Scott, crew. More anon... I really must get to work.
Julee's first post
I am not a techie-type person.
I have never done this before.
I don't know what has compelled me to try blogging, other than my need to procrastinate on budget analysis.
But I shall go forth and be fabulous.
I have never done this before.
I don't know what has compelled me to try blogging, other than my need to procrastinate on budget analysis.
But I shall go forth and be fabulous.
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