Archive for the ‘Caroline Martin’ Category

Last week, our house was flooded in the middle of the night. Each of us had a very different perspective on the event, so we thought it would be interesting to share them all. Without further adieu…

CARRIE’S STORY

I still don’t know why I woke up. Perhaps it was because the rotary fan blowing in my room was failing to prevent my sweat from penetrating my pajamas. Or maybe it was because the sound of the rain falling on the corrugated plastic skylight in my bathroom was so loud I thought it might shatter. It also could have been the flashes of light that periodically filled my room only to leave the darkness even darker…

ROB’S STORY

I awoke to a tentative tap on my door. Two thoughts slowly wandered across my groggy mind: “I probably just imagined that.” “If I didn’t imagine that, whoever it is will go away.” Again came the mouse-like tapping. I thought it was probably Jules – some evenings he comes to talk and make sure everything is going well. Upon hearing my hoarse invitation to come in, my mystery visitor – Carrie, it turned out – slowly opened my door and edged her way in my room…

MIKE’S STORY

Oh, how the rain came down! It rains in Kigali almost daily but nothing like this. This tropical rain was falling in sets of blistering long waves averaging 1 to 2 minutes in length.

I had laid down to bed at 11PM and still found my self stirring an hour later. The rain was so loud and violent that I could feel it in my chest, creating a vicious cerebral cycle…

CHADD’S STORY

KNOCK! “Chadd don’t get up!” It was one of those knocks that has less to do with preserving your privacy than with announcing an abrupt entrance.

Lights flipping on immediately accompanied my intruder’s rude entry.

Hunched over a short squeegee, eyes wide, Rob informed me the house was flooding. I looked at the floor. Well I’ll be a son-of-a-er-gun – flooding indeed…

By Caroline Martin

Nobody likes being sick. Besides all the uncomfortable – sometimes painful – symptoms that plague your body while your immune system wages war against the invading germs, being sick takes you out of the game. It forces you to move at a slower pace while your body recuperates. Being sick makes you feel like you’re missing out on life.

I’ve been fortunate to never really be sick while traveling. I had a cold once, while I was in Prague, but a visit to the local doctor and some antibiotics cleared that up and I was back to my old self in no time. I’ve been dehydrated to the point that I got a headache, but that’s nothing a few cold glasses of water and a handful of ibuprofen couldn’t cure. You could say I’ve been lucky not to have a vacation ruined or a business trip cancelled due to illness. I guess I was due.

Prior to leaving for Africa, the travel doctor pumped me full of eight different vaccinations. It seemed like she had a shot for every possible malady, whether transmitted via mosquito, personal contact, air, or sick animal. But, the shots were just a start. Prescriptions for an oral typhoid vaccine, daily malaria prophylaxis, and two different antibiotics followed. Strict warnings were given against drinking water from the tap, using ice, eating anything that didn’t come piping hot, drinking milk, and even eating vegetables. Instructions were handed down on how to treat traveler’s diarrhea, which I was projected to have at least once over the course of a five week stay, and how to spot signs of more serious diseases. The doctor even offered directions on the type of mosquito repellent and sun block I should use. Perhaps I felt she had gone a little overboard with the warnings and precautions, but nevertheless, I felt more than prepared to handle whatever might assail me in Rwanda.

Three and a half weeks into the project and it had been pretty much smooth sailing. We’d eaten almost everything that had been prepared for us (our hosts are gracious enough to provide three home-cooked meals a day), visited restaurants in Kigali, Kibuye, and Musanze, taken bucket showers, hiked through the jungle and dipped our toes in a freshwater lake. I was starting to feel that I just might win this round against the travel gods – skate through the five weeks unscathed. However, the thing about getting sick is that you can try your best to prevent it, but you can never predict when it might strike.

I’ve been sick for three days. I’ll spare you the graphic details, but if you’ve experienced traveler’s diarrhea you may know some of what I’ve been going through: a slight fever, chills, cramping, vomiting, and of course, the diarrhea. I haven’t eaten since Tuesday (it’s now Friday). I’ve tried, but my body rejects any form of food. Three days without sustenance, save one half piece of bread and some apple juice, and you might think I wouldn’t be hungry anymore. Not true. It’s weird feeling both nauseous and hungry at the same time. Your stomach grumbles for nourishment, while your head is disgusted at the thought of food or the slightest smell. I don’t envy anyone who chooses cleansing routines, hunger strikes, or is afflicted with anorexia – completely denying the body of food is an incredibly difficult path to take to detox, make a point, or lose weight.

I’m taking the antibiotic I packed in the event of such an illness, and so I’m starting to feel a bit better. However, I’m physically exhausted, mentally drained, and forced to take a seat on the bench as my teammates run with the ball towards the goal-line of our project. That’s the hardest part of being sick for me – feeling forced to take a personal time out. I hate feeling like I’ve let down my team or like I’m the weak link. Maybe it’s because I’m the only girl and I feel I have something to prove, but I see myself as a trooper, someone who can push through the pain and succeed. Sometimes though, we have no choice. Life makes us take pause.

It’s humbling to realize that no matter the precautions you may take, warnings you may heed, or great shape you’re in, we are all susceptible to getting sick – none of us is invincible. Africa humbles you in many ways; knocking you down with a bout of traveler’s diarrhea is just one of the ways in which it reminds us of our own fragility. This experience has helped me to realize that getting sick isn’t about missing out on life, but rather it’s a staunch reminder that I’m really living it.

By Caroline Martin

It would be easy to lose yourself in this foreign land. Banana plants line the sides of dirt roads that meander over the hilly landscape. A pint-sized child is wrapped across the back of his mother as she skillfully balances a basket of potatoes from the morning market on her head. Western-style button-down shirts are worn atop traditional wrap-skirts with vibrant patterns. Kinyarwanda, Kiswahili, French, and English can be heard all at once on downtown street corners. A pick-up game of soccer is played by a group of shoeless boys on a nearby dirt pitch. The smell of roasted corn and burnt wood chips permeates our neighborhood block.

The people, sights, sounds, and smells are so captivating that even after five short weeks I will leave this country forever impacted. My perspective will be broader, my understanding of what unites us as humans will be more pronounced, and my appreciation for my family and loved ones will be even greater.

Productivity in Paradise

However, this isn’t a vacation. I haven’t been afforded the luxury of losing myself completely here. I came to Kigali with two very clear objectives: to help a local computer business grow and to learn as much as I can about Rwandan culture. To achieve both of these objectives I must successfully maneuver a delicate balance between practicing strategies for high performance and embracing new cultural experiences.

The latter is easy. Everywhere I turn there is a chance to learn something new, see a spectacle I’ve never imagined, or feel a way I’ve never felt before. It doesn’t hurt that both our host and his wife have welcomed the team with the type of East African hospitality and graciousness I’ve only heard about. Each of us has our own room in their guesthouse, including access to a freshly stocked kitchen, bathrooms with clean towels and hot showers, and a sitting room equipped with ‘local-speed’ wi-fi. During the three meals we eat together every day, we’re not only provided a lavish spread of locally grown fruit, grains, and protein, but also offered stories reflecting the intricacies of African culture. We’ve been given tours of the entire city with a personalized narrative of the historic significance of the places we’ve visited. Our host, Jules, has also acted as a cruise-director, suggesting activities that will ensure we are exposed to the best that Rwanda has to offer.

The former – practicing strategies for high performance – has proven to be a more difficult task. When time is a fluid concept and you spend the majority of it together with your team and your client, scheduling your day becomes a somewhat futile task. Nonetheless, I’ve developed tactics for carving out personal time to devote towards nurturing my physical, emotional, and spiritual health and ensuring my top performance as a business consultant.

My day starts at 5:45AM when I rise to workout on the front lawn while the cook, house servant, and guard giggle at the funny ways in which my body twists. I join the group at 7:15 for our hour-long breakfast (the shortest meal of the day) before we head to the office at around 8:30. I eat less than my colleagues and hosts in an attempt to maintain my energy levels throughout the day (and have gotten used to the teasing that my smaller portions have attracted). Often, I take mental breaks that allow me to journal my experiences and connect with loved ones. Sometimes, I get the chance to take a mid-day walk with a teammate around the city to recollect my thoughts and refocus my energies when I return to the office. A power-nap upon returning from the office helps to reinvigorate me for the few hours I spend with my team and client before retiring to my chambers for an early slumber.

Finding a balance that enables me to embrace Rwandan culture, develop lasting friendships, and sustain a high level of performance in the workplace is critical to my success here. I’ve struggled to find that balance in this exotic world where time has an unfamiliar rhythm, where I’m seldom alone, and where I can’t control the myriad extraneous variables impacting my day. On top of all of this, I constantly discover new stimuli that are so attractive that my desire to play is often stronger than my desire to work. However, maintaining the balance I’ve managed to find is something that I owe not only to my client, teammates, professor, and any future TEM Lab students, but also to myself, and to my family and loved ones who continue to support my ever-present wanderlust.

CARRIE’S STORY

I still don’t know why I woke up. Perhaps it was because the rotary fan blowing in my room was failing to prevent my sweat from penetrating my pajamas. Or maybe it was because the sound of the rain falling on the corrugated plastic skylight in my bathroom was so loud I thought it might shatter. It also could have been the flashes of light that periodically filled my room only to leave the darkness even darker.

Whatever the reason, I awoke in the kind of daze where the world seems more like a dream. Disoriented and a bit unsettled, I wiped the sleep from my eyes as I swung my legs over the side of my bed and reached for the light switch on the wall.

“Water?! What the….”

As the light came on and my eyes focused, I took in the 2-inch deep river of brown water streaming past my bed and over my feet. My heart started to race as I tried to gather my thoughts. You just don’t expect to wake-up in the middle of the night to be surrounded by quickly rising water. As I pulled up my pant legs and stood up I noticed that my computer lay helplessly on the floor gasping for breath, drowning under the runoff. I quickly jumped into action, diving for the computer and pulling the power cord out of the wall without recognizing how wonderful an electrical conductor I would have made at that very moment. Luckily, I escaped without a shock and as the water continued to pour in through the crack under my door I tried to perform CPR on my poor Mac, but to no avail. When it wouldn’t start, I turned my attention to the quickly rising water and went to get help.

“Rob. Rob, wake up. The house is flooding, and I’m freaking out.”

Out of a deep slumber Rob arose to beckon me into his room. With blurry eyes, he looked up and asked me to reiterate, but there really was no need once I turned on the light and he noticed the advancing water on the floor in his room.

“The house, it’s flooding,” I exclaimed. “My computer was on the floor and now it won’t turn on. Where’s your computer? Is it on the floor?”
“No. My computer’s fine. Turn around,” he said as he hopped out of bed dressed only in his favorite mauve undies. Apparently, even in an emergency Rob doesn’t lose his sense of modesty or his respect for women. He threw on a pair of shorts and we ran out of the room to find the source of the water. As we came to the front seating area we noticed the door to our guest house had been dislodged from the force of the raging water, allowing the runoff to pour in at a fast rate. Rob propped the door shut, which helped to slow the stream of water, but we still found ourselves ankle deep in the results of the tropical deluge. As we took a pause to assess the situation, a flash of lightning shone through the window, followed instantly by a roaring crash of thunder.

I could see the alarm in Rob’s eyes as he instructed me to get rubber shoes and stay on my bed out of the water. There was no time to explain, but it was clear that the man had experience with lightning and wasn’t going to take a chance with Mother Nature’s wrath.

When the lightning was no longer at our doorstep, Rob and I got out of bed, rubber-soled shoes strapped on our feet and went to meet Boniface, the night guardsmen who was waiting patiently in the downpour at the front of our guesthouse to lend a hand. Upon stepping outside, Rob the consummate thinker, must have noticed that the drain in front of our house wasn’t working efficiently, so he pulled the filter out, which helped divert some of the water. The two turned their attention to the drains inside the house, and attacked them with the same kind of problem solving. With the drains open, the water started to dissipate and they focused on funneling the water towards its new passage.

Meanwhile, I went to the main house to grab a squeegee from Mike’s bathroom to help with the water cleanup.

“Uh, Mike? There’s been a flood in our house and I need your squeegee,” I explained as I knocked on his door. A bit confused, he told me that it was not a problem and asked if we needed help. I reassured him that we had the situation under control, and he could go back to sleep. Sure enough, no more than two minutes after I returned with the squeegee in hand, Mike was at our door, wide-awake, and chomping at the bit to lend a hand.

So, the four of us cleaned up the guesthouse as Jules, our client and host, worked outside in the rain creating a channel for the water to ensure that the floodwater wouldn’t reach the front of the house. You may ask, what happened to Chadd? Through the three-hour-long commotion he turned over once, grumbled in a half-man, half-bear voice something about helping and fell back to sleep once he got the “all-clear” from his buddies.

The house is back to normal, except for a brand new five-inch high curb in front of our landing. And, we’re all hoping – especially me – that after some good drying time my computer will start again. At the very least, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I can save the contents of the hard-drive when I return home to the States. What a difficult way to learn to back up all your data, huh?!

That’s not all I’ve learned though. It’s a theme that’s been reiterated here, time and time again. It’s an idea that you learn to live with, and eventually becomes a part of you – influencing your attitude and your perspective. The night of the flood was just Mother Nature’s way of communicating the same moral: “always expect the unexpected”.