Sylvia's Journal

I already know that my un- or subconscious is very active but I remain amazed how and why it picks up certain images or words during the day and spins them into magnificent movie scenes. One of my colleagues mentioned a party yesterday where the disc jockey, our very own Christian from MSH, played the YMCA song. She spoke about a thousand other things yesterday but my unconscious grasped this piece and spun it into a dream. I dreamed that I was at the YMCA and wanted to show Sita the cheerleaders that were marching through the streets. In the dream Sita was Dutch and had never seen or heard about cheerleaders. In order to get to Sita who was working up in the rafters (It must be all these invitations to world or regional economic forums) I had to climb up there myself. Someone helped me but it was either very courageous or stupid on my part as it was a bit above my ability and quite risky.

Yesterday I continued easing into work. I got a taste of early morning traffic in Nairobi but arrived in time for an eight o’clock meeting at our MSH office with first Abebe from Ethiopia and then Peter from Kenya. They are wonderful men with whom I had co-facilitated workshops in the past. It was nice see see them after all this time.

We then headed off for the US embassy to have lunch in the embassy cafetaria with USAID staff from the population and health office. This was the new embassy, on the outskirts of Nairobi (the old one was blown up some years ago). The security was intense. I had to give up my bags of green tea, two candies, lipbalm and much more. It was fun to see the security guards unpack my colleague’s bag. You learn a lot from people by seeing what they carry with them. It feels rather invasive this probing of something as intimate as one’s handbag. It was as if we were undressed in public. (We got everything back at the exit). The cafetaria was dominated by a huge (HUGE) screen with a football game going on, we were on American soil after all. I picked the seat with my back to the screen and watched in admiration how our USAID colleague eat her sticky and gooey spare ribs without getting anything on her white blouse. I admired her greatly. I would have been a mess. We discussed leadership and management in Kenya, of course, and got to know each other a bit better.

After lunch Ida took us around the outskirts of Nairobi in order to avoid as much as we could of the infamous and congested Thika road. Kristen and Joseph guided her expertly (with the help of maps) from the backseat through narrow roads that always seemed to have Garden in their name. Garden is a nicer way of saying rural I suppose. It was not a shortcut but more pleasant than sitting in traffic.

We arrived at the Safari Park hotel to see a group of nurses about some programs we are exploring and others we are launching. They were having a workshop there. In Nairobi everyone is always having workshops at one hotel or another. We arrived hours early because we did not want to be caught in the rush hour traffic leaving Nairobi on Thika road. As a result we had a very long wait (several hours actually) of sitting in a disgustingly beautiful garden drinking first tea, then sundowners. I tried the local pretend beer (Malta) which tasted rather malty and syrupy, more medecine, and a downer rather than a sundowner and really too sweet to even pretend. If Axel had been with us he would have, no doubt, be less disciplined and told his nerves to go to hell and partaken in the Kenyan sundowner ritual.

When the nurses emerged from their workshop it was nearly dark and we chatted by candlelight. One nurse had been in a virtual leadership program I led some years ago and it was nice to meet her in the flesh. It felt as if we were old acquaintances. I suppose we were.

Ida dropped us off at a Thai restaurant which has been in Nairobi for ever and, as always, was mostly empty. I have learned from Sita to suspect that it is a shell. But the food was good. Despite the slow rhythm of the day I was pretty pooped when I got home. I managed to squeeze the last energy out to review one document and participate briefly in a virtual conference that started yesterday about family planning in Francophone Africa. I marveled again at how easy it is to feel connected to a larger group of people who share a common vision through one’s computer, sitting alone in a hotel room. I am sorry I missed Axel’s Skype call. The eight hours difference is a bit much late in the day.