Some Reflections on Ghana

Last month I spent a week and a half in a very foreign country. I was there helping with a documentary. We got a lot of work done, I saw some amazing things, and I learned a lot about filming and interviewing and organizing and planning.

But I also learned some valuable life lessons from the people living in little mud huts, in tiny little villages.

Our very first day in Ghana, we visited a village about an hour outside of Accra. We went to the school and met the kids, who surrounded us and shook our hands with big smiles and repeated, "You are welcome, you are welcome." I felt like a sort of celebrity.

We took a walk through the village to film some of what life is like there, when suddenly it started to rain--hard. One of the men we were talking to invited us into his hut to stay dry. On his floor in the entryway was a small scrap of marble-patterned linoleum. We complimented him on it--to his great pleasure. He invited us to sit on his bed, and pulled some old chairs in for us, too. We talked for a while, just waiting out the storm.

I was impressed with the graciousness of the people in the villages we visited. They have almost nothing, but they take care of what they have. The dirt floors inside their huts are neatly swept...even the dirt "yards" in front of their huts are swept and clear of any trash or clutter. They make use of everything they have. Many of the kids' school uniforms were threadbare and had tears and bursted seams, or were entirely too big for the kid because they were hand-me-downs from older siblings.

One little boy we met in a village did not attend school. We sat next to the head school teacher Richard as he talked with the boy. He asked the boy why he didn't come to school, and the boy said that he did not have a uniform. In Ghana, if you don't wear your uniform to school, you can be punished. Richard asked the boy if he would come to school if he had a uniform. The boy said yes. They were talking in their native language, so when the boy ran off to play, we asked Richard what they had been talking about. Richard explained the story, and Matthew, a BYU student working as a social analyst in Ghana, asked how much a uniform cost. Richard said it cost 8 cedis (roughly $7). Matthew pulled 8 cedis out of his wallet and handed it to Richard, and told him to make sure the little boy got a uniform.

That was on a Wednesday. The following Monday, we went back to that same village and saw the little boy walking to school wearing a brand new uniform! It was his first day of school. It was experiences like those that really touched me. 8 cedis is not that much money, but for this little boy, it means he'll get a basic education.

After seeing the contrast between the villages and the city, I would MUCH rather live in a mud hut, far away from the dirty, ramshackle city that is Accra. It is a more westernized city, but it's crowded, buildings are in disrepair, and the living conditions are so poor. In the villages, things were peaceful and simple, and although life wasn't easy for the people--they worked hard in their fields to make a living--they were happy. They never asked the white Americans for money. In Accra, we were constantly being badgered for a handout. It made me sad, because the people in the city could see affluence, they could see rich people with their fancy houses and nice cars, so they knew the state of their own poverty. In the villages, everyone lived on the same plane. They didn't know what it was like to have a two-story house, or a car, or even electricity. They just valued what they did have, and took much better care of it than any American I've seen.

It certainly made me a lot more grateful for what I have.

...just some of my thoughts. I'm sure I'll write about this again. And include a few pictures.

Ghone to Ghana

Well, I'm outta here. Be back in ten days.

Ghana

I'm leaving for Ghana next week. I'll be gone for ten days, filming stuff for a documentary I'm co-producing for KBYU. I've never been to a third-world country before...but as I've been doing some research, I've noticed there are a lot of things I take for granted.

Here are some interesting stats I pulled from the World Factbook.
- Ghana has roughly twice the per capita output of the poorest countries on West Africa.
- main exports are gold, timber, cocoa
- subsistence agriculture accounts for 35% of GDP and is 55% of the workforce
- 2007 GDP per capita was $1,400
- Labor force - 37.3% agriculture, 25.3% industry, 37.5% services (2006)
- unemployment rate 11% (2000) - the 2008 estimate is 20%
- Electricity production by source - Hydro 95%, fossil fuel 5%, Nuclear/other 0% (2001)
- life expectancy: total population 59.49 yrs, male 58.65 yrs, female 60.35 yrs (2008)
- literacy (age 15 and older can read and write): total population 57.9%, male 66.4%, female 49.8% (2000 census)

Compare that with the current U.S. stats.

Wow. We certainly have a lot to be thankful for.

A very long, soggy 26.2

On October 4th I ran the St. George Marathon with my dad and my sister.

Or perhaps I should say I ran the first two miles with them before they took off ahead of me...

At any rate, it was a good experience, though not one of my better memories. It was my second time running this marathon, so I was pretty sure I knew what to expect. We arrived at the starting line in a little place called Central around 4:45 a.m., anxiously anticipating the 26.2 miles of road that separated us from ice cream, finishers' medals, and leg massages. It was cold, and 6,500 runners huddled around fires to keep warm. I had heard reports that it was supposed to rain that day, but I'd been told that it wouldn't start raining until later in the afternoon.

That was false.

About 30-45 minutes before the race started, the rain started. It was just a drizzle, but it came down steadily. People started rushing to the aid station to get garbage bags to keep dry, but by the time my dad, my sister and I got there, they had run out. Almost everyone was dripping wet before the race even started. Nevertheless, we crossed the starting line in high spirits, cheering and pumping each other up for a good race.

We ran together for the first two miles or so before Lauren and my dad took off ahead of me and I lost them in the sea of garbage bags and short shorts. I had planned on this happening, so I settled into my marathon pace and kept going. I was fairly optimistic about my pace; perhaps the rain would keep things cool and then let up after the first five miles...

It became obvious to me that was not going to be the case by mile six or seven. I was freezing, and the rain was still going strong. I didn't realize until attempting to unwrap a Clif bar on the go that I had lost most of the motor skills in my hands. I could do little more than hold a section of a banana and rip off the peel with my teeth to eat it.

At the next aid station I grabbed a stick with a glob of vaseline on the end and smeared it over the backs of my hands to protect them from windburn. It helped, though I still couldn't use them for much more than holding a banana or a cup of gatorade.

Around mile 16 a sharp pain shot through the sole of my left foot and slowed me to a very painful walk. I started cursing myself for not buying new shoes before the race. I knew that these shoes were getting near the end of their life, and it didn't help that they were soaking wet and squished every time I landed on them. Ten more miles to go, I told myself.

That ten miles seemed like an eternity, especially since I was trying to do it with plantar fasciitis in one foot and a growing case of tendinitis in my right leg. You should've trained better, Kellie.

By mile 19, I was barely shuffling my feet to move forward. I might have started crying, but I couldn't distiguish the tears from the raindrops that kept sliding down my face. I entertained the thought of waving down the medical shuttle at the next aid station and riding the rest of the way down. But then I thought of all the people who knew I was running this race, and they all expected me to finish. I expected myself to finish, though I already knew I was not going to beat my finishing time from last year. For some reason, my pride wouldn't let me quit.

When I made it to the outskirts of the city with only three miles left to go, some sort of animalistic determination kicked in and, though I was limping, I ran. I'm sure I looked quite fearsome with my teeth clenched and my eyes fixed like lasers on the course ahead of me.

Coming down the chute to the finish line was amazing. It was still raining, but I knew I was almost there. I yelled and waved my hands in the air as I crossed the finish line. I walked over to a lady who was giving out the finishers' medals, and gave her a hug (even though I was soaking wet). It was a bittersweet experience, because I came in 13 minutes slower than my previous marathon time, but I had finished nonetheless. My dad and Lauren were there at the finish line waiting for me. None of us could walk very well, so we shuffled around the park to grab some food and pick up our clothing bags, shuffled out to where our car was parked, and drove home.

By the way, it was still raining.

I think I'll try to do it again next year.

Shots

I'm going to Ghana in November. This means I have the distinct privilege of playing host to several vaccinations (6 in all), including yellow fever and typhoid.

Yellow fever is a live vaccine, and it's taking a toll on me. The nurse informed me that I had a 25% chance of experiencing flu-like symptoms over the next 5-10 days. So far, no nausea or vomiting, but I have had some severe fatigue. I hope that's not from the yellow fever. (Note: I'm running a marathon in 5 days...perfect.)

Fortunately, the disease is not contagious. Unless I was a mosquito and I bit someone. Then we might have a problem.

Mile eight.

I'm training for a marathon. It's in 5 1/2 weeks. And the farthest I've run to date is eight miles.

"Hmmm, it's probably time to step it up, Kellie..."

Yes, you're correct. As I've started to run longer and more frequently, I'm beginning to notice the effects of altitude on my body. While I was in London, I was running a pretty consistent 8:30 mile. I could run 3.5 miles and feel comfortably tired, but not completely wasted.

But then, that was nearly at sea level. Now that I'm back at home in the rocky mountains of Utah, I'm training at roughly 4,000 feet above sea level. That's a pretty big difference, and on my first run after getting home, my body was hating me. I felt like I had to expend twice the effort to run half the distance. I was inhaling but felt like I was getting no oxygen. After two miles, my legs felt like bricks. I was struggling to keep up a 10:00/mile pace.

I'm starting to readjust. But it's clear I've got my work cut out for me.

Culture Shock?

I've been back in the US for four days now. And there are some things I've noticed:

- Utah has a distinct smell. I walked outside on my first day home and took a deep breath, and I noticed I wasn't inhaling cigarette smoke and exhaust from busses.

- My apartment has a distinct smell, too. (Rest assured, it's not a nasty smell.)

- People look at you funny when you say "toilets" instead of "restrooms"

- Not everyone wants to see every one of the hundreds of photographs I've taken in the past two months.

- There are trash cans here. Everywhere!

- There are drinking fountains here.

- Even though I never drove in London, it feels weird to drive on the right-hand side of the road now.

- Public transportation is a somewhat under-emphasized issue here.

- I walk at a very fast pace now.

- Corn and potatoes are not part of every meal.

- I can find peanut butter at the grocery store.

- American chocolate is nasty.

- American yogurt is watery.

- My clothes actually feel dry when I walk outside.

- I have air conditioning!

I'm back

It's 6:34 a.m. 

I've been awake since 3:30 a.m.

Darn jet lag...

"Congratulations, ladies, you survived your first London skate."

Barely.

My sister an I strapped on rollerblades and joined 200 other skaters for a planned 10.9-mile skate around the city. We started at Hyde Park Corner, skated down and around Piccadilly Circus and on down to Trafalgar Square, then right past the houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey. All while traffic stopped for us and people lined the streets and took pictures of us and cheered as though we were running a marathon. Quite the experience.

Lauren and I spent most of our time at the back, being coaxed by the rear marshals who were constantly urging us to pick up the pace or drop out of the group. I took a couple spills, Lauren ran into a car, and we both had to be coached in the fine art of stopping...

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunate for us), it started raining and the skate was cut short because the roads were too slippery.

It was so much fun. I think that's the best thing I've done here in London. But I think when I get home, I'm going to go rollerblading and practice my stopping.

Swiss-land

Wow, what can I say about such a place? It was incredible.

It's been a couple weeks since I was there. I just haven't gotten around to putting anything online. Basically my friend Dan and I decided we wanted to go to Switzerland one Wednesday night, so we got online, bought plane tickets, and eight days later were sleeping in the Heathrow Airport waiting for our 6:05 a.m. departure to Zurich Flughafen (that's German for Airport...my three years of high school German were finally put to use).

Sleeping in the airport is not the most comfortable thing I've ever attempted. I slept from 12:30 to 4:00 a.m., waking up about every hour or so. Around 4 I just gave up and went for a stroll around the terminal.

The trip itself was AMAZING. We spent a couple hours in Zurich before taking a train to Luzern and then out to Interlaken, a popular destination for backpackers. We made several stops along the way, including a stop at Aareschlucht, a huge gorge with a walkway along the side of the cliff. We also stopped in Brienz, a delightful little lakeside town famous for its woodcarvings. I wanted to get myself a little wooden musical box, but after turning it over and seeing the 99 CHF pricetag, I decided against it. Swiss Francs are at about the same level as the US dollar, but I didn't have that much money anyway.

We finally made it to Interlaken on Friday evening and started looking for a place to stay. We headed for the cheapest hostel we could find, and booked two beds in a 32-bed dormitory. I'll be honest, I'm not usually picky about where I sleep. I'm just fine with cots or ground or couches...but these bunks made me a little nervous. I mean, it's hard to say when the last time those blankets and sheets were washed...

Travelers Tip: Always bring along a sleep sack/liner, especially when you are concerned about the cleanliness of the sheets. I was so glad I had mine.

On Saturday we rented mountain bikes and loaded them on a train to Lauterbrunnen. We got stuck in the bike car because we didn't get into the normal second-class carriage in time. Later the train conductor found us...we basically got kicked off the train because we didn't have money to pay the extra fee for the bikes. Fortunately, we got kicked off at our stop: Lauterbrunnen. We rode through the town and up to Stechelberg. The ride was gorgeous. There were waterfalls everywhere, on both sides of the valley. We hiked up behind one of them to get a better view of the town.

We rode some cable cars up the sides of the cliffs to a peak called the Schilthorn, which provides an INCREDIBLE view of the surrounding Swiss Alps. It is also the site of the world's first revolving restaurant, and James Bond made an appearance there in one of his movies...

Anyway, we hiked back down part of the Schilthorn, then rode our bikes back down into the valley. It was a day full of amazing pictures, scenery, hiking, biking, and exploration. We were exhausted that night.

On Sunday we went to Grindelwald and Kleine Scheidegg by train, but didn't have enough money to finish the train loop to Wengen, so we walked the rest of the way. Cheap, and much more rewarding, I'd say. The scenery was incredible, and aside from a slight panic when we got lost and didn't know if we'd be able to make it back to civilization in time to catch our train back to Zurich for our flight, we had a great time wandering through the mountains.

It was another one of those trips that totally wore me out, but recharged my battery for the last two weeks of my stay here in London. It was a week and a half ago, but I still can't stop talking about it. Switzerland is such a beautiful country. It's quieter, it's cleaner, the people are friendlier...I want to go back.

For some reason my blog doesn't like it when I upload pictures (it makes them really small...and it takes forever). Click here to see a few of my Swiss pictures.

First-timer

An American who doesn't know how to make coffee? Shocking.

I'm a sort of rarity here, I suppose. I received a brief tutorial in coffee-making this morning. Then I was asked to make some for a client meeting. I just delivered the finished product to the conference room, and my coworker was kind enough to supply a disclaimer that this was the American intern's first attempt at making coffee.

I guess if it tastes bad, now they'll know why...

Smart kid...

I saw a kid chasing pigeons and trying to smash them with his orange plastic dinosaur. He's got the right idea.

I wish I had an orange plastic dinosaur...

Do you hear that?

"Guys, wait. Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"...Exactly."

I'm not a city girl. Some of you may know this about me. Sure, it's fun and exciting to be in a new place with big buildings and loud noises and famous people. But nothing makes me feel more out-of-place than a flat landscape covered in concrete.

It seems like my entire experience in Europe has been one of constant movement. I've been subject to relentless sensory overload. One thing right after another: gotta go to work, then see this monument, that museum, those shops, this park...I can't waste any time. So much to see, so much to do...so much noise. I haven't stopped.

But when Jessi, Jessica, and I stepped off the train in Dover early on Saturday morning, I stopped.

And I listened.

I couldn't hear sirens. I couldn't hear car horns. I couldn't hear people shouting obscenities back and forth. People weren't bumping into me on the sidewalk. I didn't smell cigarette smoke, diesel fuel, or the warm, stuffy, stagnant air of the tube. The wind I felt was not from busses whizzing past me on the busy streets. It was coming from the English Channel. It was fresh. Clean. Cool. I felt alive again.

I spent most of my afternoon out on the famous White Cliffs. I almost cried for joy when I found a trail made of dirt and rocks and grass...and no concrete. As for the cliffs...I don't know that I have words to describe them. The landscape is gorgeous. It. Was. Incredible.

This was just the type of sanity break I needed. I was reluctant to get back on the train that night. 

Now week six has begun. Back to the drone of city life. Back to the daily routine. Back to the commotion. But I feel like I can handle it now. This weekend gave me an energy boost. Bring on the noise. I can take it.

Whirlwind

I know my fan club is dying to know what I did last weekend. (And by fan club I mean the four or five people who actually read this.) So here I present a very condensed version of my jam-packed 36 hours in Paris.

We took the Eurostar to Paris early on Saturday morning. When we got there, we hopped on a bus for a quick tour around the city. I think I’ve made my feelings about bus tours quite clear in a previous post…but this one was a little better. I actually got a couple decent pictures out of it. During the tour we stopped for lunch at a delightful little Parisian café (all 75 of us). Lunch was already arranged and paid-for, so we didn’t really have a choice on what to order. But the food was excellent! I suppose that is to be expected; after all, we were in France.

The bus tour ended at our hotel. We all got checked in, Jessi and I dropped our bags in our room, admired the bright orange couch and our view of the Eiffel Tower right outside our window, and five minutes later walked back out the door to explore the Latin quarter of Paris.

We went through a bit of an ordeal to get there…the Paris Metro is much more confusing than the London Underground. But maybe that’s just because we weren’t used to it. We got in line for the right train, but thought we were on the wrong side of the platform. So we went to the other side, got on, and then realized the train was heading in the wrong direction. So we got off at the next stop, turned around, and got on the train heading the other direction.

At long last we made it to Saint Michel, in the Latin Quarter. Jessi had done some research in advance and learned that this was where a lot of demonstrators would gather to set up barricades and protest wars. The Latin Quarter is considered the “intellectual” section of the city. It’s where the big universities are, and back in the Middle Ages, all the scholars there spoke Latin (hence the name).

Jessi had been to Paris before, so she had already seen a lot of the major tourist sites. Unfortunately for her, she had me as a travel buddy, and I haven’t been anywhere. I dragged her up to Notre Dame cathedral for a quick detour. What an incredible building! I’ve only ever seen it in Disney movies, but it’s so magnificent in person. So many ornate details. And that’s just on the outside. People just don’t build things like that anymore. It’s amazing.

Tip for travellers: If a fragile-looking woman with a forlorn look on her face approaches you and says, “spick English?” don’t respond. Gypsies are everywhere, and they like to take your money and anything else that is not carefully guarded on your person.

The rest of the Latin Quarter was amazing! I’m a sucker for cheap souvenir shops, and there is no shortage of those on the streets of the Left Bank. We went to the Pantheon and saw the crypt in the basement where famous people like Voltaire, Victor Hugo, and Louis Braille are buried. We got authentic French crepes, filled with nutella (the most heavenly thing I have ever eaten). We also went to the Luxembourg gardens and took crazy pictures of ourselves with the statues. Yes, we are American tourists.

We also visited the Shakespeare and Company bookstore. This was a great find by Jessi. It was a popular hangout for American expatriates like Hemingway and Fitzgerald in the 1920s. Very cool atmosphere. I felt so scholarly taking used books off the shelves, sitting down, and reading a few pages. I found myself an old edition of Dickens’ Great Expectations, a book that I started reading but never finished. I thought it would be worth another try, so I bought it.

We ate dinner at another great restaurant, and I’ll say once again that French food is AMAZING.

That night we went to the Eiffel Tower. We didn’t get there in time to go up, but we sat on the grass and admired the sparkling lights. It really was quite a sight.

On Sunday we started off by going down the road to see the Statue of Liberty. Ever seen National Treasure II? Yeah, there really is a Statue of Liberty in Paris. And it was right down the street from our hotel.

After that we took the Metro up to the Arc de Triomphe (with much less difficulty this time). We walked down the Avenue des Champs-Elysees (SHAHMZ el-ee-ZAY – Saying a name like that makes me feel very French…even when I really only know 3 or 4 French phrases). We did primarily window-shopping, because the stores along Champs-Elysees are comparable to those of Fifth Avenue in New York City: you feel unworthy to enter the stores because you know you could never afford anything for sale there without taking out a loan. I drooled over the purses on display in the windows of Louis Vuitton, only to glance at the price tag and see €2,100. *Sigh* I guess I’ll just have to be content with having seen them.

We spent the afternoon in the Louvre, though we only had 2.5 hours there. I knew before going that I’d never be able to see everything on all three levels of the 1.5-mile-long building. So I chose one section and spent all my time there. I saw the collections of Greek and Roman sculptures, including the Venus de Milo and Nike of Samothrace. I also stumbled across the Mona Lisa. I saw Gericault’s Raft of the Medusa, David’s Oath of the Horatii, as well as Delacroix’s Liberty Leading the People and The Death of Sardanapalus. I was overwhelmed by all of it. I got chills as I walked through the halls. I almost felt like crying as I stood in front of these works of art that I’d only seen pictures of in my textbooks. I never dreamed I’d get to see them in person. It was breathtaking.

We finished off the day with a visit to Le Sacre Coeur, a basilica on a hill that overlooks the whole city. Quite amazing.

After that, we were back on the train heading home. We did so much there, but I still feel like I barely scratched the surface of all there is to see in Paris. I hope to go back there one day (maybe when I’ve learned a little more French).

So much for making this a “condensed” version of my trip…

For more pictures, see here.

Must be Monday

Today has been a day of firsts.

Today was the first time I've ever been pooped on by a pigeon. I guess I expected it to happen sooner or later. But I wasn't exactly happy when I felt something hit my lower back on the steps of Trafalgar Square this afternoon.

As a result, today was also the first time that I've done laundry in the bathroom at work. I rinsed out the bottom of my shirt quite thoroughly, turned on the automatic hand drier and stood there for about five minutes while it dried.

My friend told me she heard that it's good luck if a pigeon poops on you. If that's the case, I'd hate to know what brings bad luck.

Darn pigeons.

It's the small stuff...

I love the little things that make me smile while I'm at work. For example, my roommate Jessi's latest blog post on the entertainment value of Google's automatic translator. And a description on the back of my Nestle Boost Smashin' Strawberry smoothie (with Mind Boost) that I drank this morning:

WARNING: After drinking your Boost, you may suffer intense feelings of happiness, lust for life and you may start hugging old ladies. Don't be concerned, this is so normal.

Haven't hugged any old ladies yet, but I am very happy right now. I might even say I have a lust for life. I should drink these things more often...

Weather in London

I wore long pants, a jacket, and a scarf to work yesterday. This is the type of outfit that I normally wear during the fall and winter. I wasn't planning on dressing like this in the middle of July.

It rained all day. From 6:30 in the morning (yes, I was awake then) until about 9 p.m. And that's fairly common here. Coming from a place like Utah, I'm not accustomed to this kind of weather. I think I've probably used my little lime-green umbrella more in the past two weeks than in the previous three years that I've owned it. But this is a typical London summer.

Fortunately, Mother Nature throws out little gold coins to keep me from getting completely depressed. Today the sun is shining. That means I can wear a short-sleeved dress with open-toe shoes and eat my lunch outside again.

Mamma Mia, here I go again...

Last night my friend Kim and I went to Leicester Square and Covent Gardens for a little "Girls' Night Out." And I have to say that it was incredibly successful.

We spent a little while browsing various street vendors and shady souvenir shops. We had some pretty good finds. Like scarves that were 2 for £5 (we bought a lot of them, so the lady was nice and gave us each a free one too). And I found myself a Bloomingdale's "medium brown bag" (I love knock-offs, and I'm not ashamed to say that I own several purses of that nature).

After shopping, we grabbed dinner at a little middle-eastern style deli. It was my first time eating falafel. Quite good. And cheap. I think I'll go back there for lunch sometime, seeing as the euronews office is right around the corner.

The highlight of the night was going to see Mamma Mia: the movie at the Odeon Theatre in Leicester Square. The movie premiered there last week. I was expecting a normal movie theater, previews, etc. I was wrong. Not only did we have assigned seating and an usher who took us to our leopard-print upholstered seats...we also got exclusive souvenir programs, a live organ performance, and a look back at footage from the world premiere last week. Everyone cheered as the lights dimmed and the movie started.

I've never seen the musical, so I didn't know what to expect. But I thought the movie was brilliant. Kim and I couldn't keep from dancing in our seats during several of the songs. And neither could the people sitting beside us. And behind us. We all clapped to the beat and sang along with Meryl Streep, Julie Walters, and Christine Baranski as they sang "Dancing Queen". We danced to the beat of "Take a Chance on Me". I've never had so much fun in a movie theater. I mean, come on, you can't help but dance when ABBA is playing.

The characters were amazing. I particularly enjoyed Meryl Streep's performance as Donna, a free-spirited single mom running an old hotel on a remote island in Greece. I love her versatility as an actress.

Pierce Brosnan had a great performance as well. But then, he's just downright attractive. Can he do any wrong?

Good story, amazing cast, rad music...basically, this was the ultimate feel-good movie. I highly recommend it. And I got to see it before any of you. Haha! Look for it when it's released in the States

Happy Fourth...

Today is the Fourth of July. 

Yesterday was the Third of July. 

Tomorrow is the Fifth of July.

To the British, there's nothing special about today.

But it's special to me. Here's to a free nation. Happy birthday, USA.

Fulfillment.

Our new Comment:Visions webpage launched yesterday. It's funny how excited I am to see concrete results of what I've been working on for the past two and a half weeks. And this month's topic is quite interesting. Austin, you'll appreciate this one...all about robotics and automation.

Eight hours in Brussels

I spent Monday in Brussels (Belgium). Well, eight hours, to be precise...and six of those were spent in a meeting.

It was my first time riding a train. That was exciting.
I was there with my boss and my project manager for a Comment:Visions event. It was a panel discussion, and the topic being addressed was climate change and the effect it will have on everday lifestyle. Interesting debate. On the one hand you have political measures (i.e. raising taxes on carbon and subsidizing taxes on other forms of energy), but you also have new technologies (electric and solar-powered cars, for instance). And of course there are the lifestyle changes that we as individuals can make.

I think my default reaction to the problem of climate change is to just throw my hands up in the air and say, "There's nothing we can do." But after listening to over 90 educated and innovative thinkers at this event, I'm beginning to see possible ways to reduce our energy consumption. I guess that's what I get for being put in charge of getting experts' opinions on how to address the energy crisis.

The meeting was successful. We had a good time socializing afterward. And then we got back on the train to come home.

Regrettably, I didn't get a chance to try any Belgian chocolates. Or waffles.

Indulgence comes with a price

This morning on my way to work I decided I wanted a jelly donut, even though I had already eaten breakfast and knew it wouldn't be good for me. So I bought one at the store and continued walking to work. As I was walking, I took bite after bite of the sugar-laden amazingness, enjoying every moment of it. But my little bubble of happiness didn't last long. As I took another bite close to the center, a huge glob of raspberry jelly oozed out of the side and dropped onto my nice, clean, WHITE shirt...

Perhaps that should be a lesson to me...

A lazy post...

We saw the world's most famous pile of rocks, and some ancient Roman baths. Pretty cool.

For more pictures, see this album.

English Pub (from an American Perspective)

Until Thursday night I had never been to one. But when my boss suggested that we all leave work an hour early for drinks, I wasn't going to say no.

Pubs are where English people socialize. They go with friends and meet new people, everyone buys drinks for everyone, and they stay for hours. We left the office at 4:30 that afternoon, and I didn't get back to my dorm until 10:30 that night. Good times.

I went with my boss and a few people from the office. It was nice to get to know them outside of their jobs. They asked me several times during the course of the night if I was having a good time. I guess they thought I wasn't because I wasn't drinking beer. But I did have a great time, and I enjoyed my Sprite.

The guys from the office introduced me to some of their friends, we watched the Spain-Russia football game together with everyone else in the pub, and celebrated when Spain won.

It was a great insight into everyday British life. I had fun, even though I wasn't drunk. I might even go back sometime, just for the social interaction.

Wimbledon

Yeah, I went there. It’s a kind of Mecca for classy people with lots of money, sharp brand-name blazers and sweater-vests, and a very refined sense of entertainment.

…Well, then there’s me. I have neither money nor a sweater vest. But I do find tennis very entertaining.

My friend was able to get free grounds passes for my roommate and me. Grounds passes allow you access to all courts except two: No.1 Court and Centre Court. Which of course is where the really famous people play. People like Roger Federer and Ana Ivanovic. It’s been my dream to watch one of Federer’s matches on Centre Court, but alas, I can’t afford the £195 tickets. I suppose I’ll just have to be content with having walked on the grounds where he has been.

I did get to watch a very good match, however, between Fernando Verdasco and Olivier Rochus. Verdasco is ranked #22 in the Wimbledon lineup, so he’s quite good. And I feel a sort of connection with him because he’s left-handed (we lefties have to stick together). The match was excellent. Both men played very well, but Verdasco seemed to have more control and use less effort. Rochus made the ever-popular “tennis grunt” every time he hit the ball, while Verdasco remained mostly silent on his shots. In the end Verdasco was the victor: 7-6, 6-7, 6-1, 6-1. Great match.

After the match we ran around the grounds taking pictures and purchasing ridiculously-priced food and souvenirs. Like I said, Wimbledon is a place for people with lots of money. But it was definitely the highlight of my week.

Bus Tour

I'll admit, I wasn't too keen on the idea. Spend my Saturday morning on an open-top, double-decker bus riding around London? That's what old people do. All I need now are my bermuda shorts and straw hat.

We walked outside to get on the bus this morning, and it was raining. Jessi and I decided we didn't care (along with several other members of our group) and headed for the open top deck. We could take better pictures from up there. Or so I thought.

As soon as we started going, I realized it was going to be more difficult than I thought to get the pictures I wanted. Everyone else was trying to get the same pictures I was hoping to get, so their cameras, heads, and arms were constantly in my shots. And the bus just kept moving. We only made one stop, at the Tower of London, where we were allowed to get out and look around for about 15 minutes. But the rest of the time we were just zooming through the streets, and I was frantically trying to snap pictures of all the major landmarks before they were obstructed by trees or street light poles.

We stopped for lunch at a swanky bar and club called Sugar Reef. It was quite good. After lunch we were supposed to continue on the tour, but Jessi and I opted to go back to the Tower of London and tour the inside. 

We went on a great tour of the grounds inside, gawked at the sparkling crown jewels, learned all sorts of fascinating things about the history of the fortress, and were reprimanded by our tour guide because, as he put it, "If you Americans had paid your taxes, this could have been YOUR history, too." Oh well.

I took about 100 pictures today. Not many of them are worth posting. I did my best.

STOMP

Last night was Friday night, and as such, my roommate and I felt a compelling need to plan something fun. So that afternoon when I got off work I ran over to Leicester Square (pronounced LESS-ter...why all the extra letters? Couldn't say. Probably the same reason that Worchestershire has all those extra letters.)

Leicester Square is at the heart of the theatre district. It also happens to be about two minutes' stroll from where I work on St. Martin's Lane. In the middle of Leicester Square there is a ticket booth that sells tickets for many of the theatre shows at half-price. Which is great when you are a poor starving college student working 40 hours a week and not getting paid for any of it. The only catch is that you have to buy them on the day of the show. I wanted to see Stomp, and it was on sale at the half-price ticket booth for, well, half price. So instead of paying £45 per ticket I paid £22.50 (plus a £2.50 service charge, but still...) And that was for seats that were eight rows back from the front on the side with a clear view of the stage. Not bad, if you ask me.

So that night Jessi and I went to see the show. I'll just tell you right now, if you ever get a chance to see it, DO IT! I loved it.

Stomp is a percussion ensemble made up of eight or nine people. They perform several numbers clapping, snapping, and hammering out rhythms on just about anything you can imagine...INCLUDING the kitchen sink. They use everything from trash cans to Altoids boxes to newspapers to water jugs to toilet plungers...and yes, there was a number that four of the members performed with kitchen sinks full of water strung around their necks. Not only are the rhythms and audio ensemble incredible, but the visual aspect is mesmerizing as well. They move around the stage and interact with each other while still keeping the beat and acting natural.

There's also a brilliant comedic element to the show, and it's achieved only through actions and facial expressions. There is no verbal conversation in the whole performance. In fact, aside from the occasional shout or mumbling in gibberish during part of the show, there are no words at all. But each performer has a distinct character, developed entirely through his or her interactions with the others in the group, as well as with the audience. The performers responded to laughter in the audience, and even led us in some call-response numbers. One of the performers would step out in front and clap/snap/stomp, and we would imitate his rhythm, while the other performers drummed out an accompaniment with various...instruments (like 50-gallon plastic drums and large metal buckets.)

I've wanted to see this show for years, and all I'm trying to say is that it was TOTALLY WORTH IT!

Always read the instructions

I bought an iron yesterday. It's travel-size, complete with steam jet and folding handle. Used it for the first time this morning. I melted a hole in my shirt. I turned over the tag on the shirt to find the words "warm iron, no steam"...

Always read the instructions.

First Day on the Job

Today was my first day working at EuroNews. I left the dorm this morning with plenty of time to get to the office. Too much, in fact. Even though the tube station was INSANE this morning and I had to wait for the next train because the first one was jam-packed, I arrived at the office shortly before nine, and I was the first one there. About ten minutes later, Fred (who works there) arrived with the keys. I introduced myself to him and he showed me around the office. He also took me across the street to a little cafe and told me a little bit about the history of EuroNews. We had a great discussion about publicly and privately owned news stations. Publicly-funded news stations are much more prevalent in Europe. There are some noticeable differences in public news. It's more straightforward and neutral, because the stations receive their money from the government rather than from advertising. There's less pressure to "sell" the news, so to speak, so there's less focus on entertainment value. He contrasted EuroNews with Fox news, which is probably about the biggest contrast you could draw. Just reading the headlines on their websites reveals how much hype we Americans put into our news. It's interesting to compare the two.

After Fred and I got back to the office, I met the other interns that I'll be working with. And I got my first responsibility: laminating. Yes, I am an intern, and as such, I do have to complete menial tasks. Menial tasks that take as much as two hours to complete. I'm not complaining, though. I was working together with Jessica, another intern, so we talked and got to know each other. It was good. And, after ruining a few pages in the experimental phases, I now feel very confident in my ability to operate a laminating machine.

My boss was in France today on business, and this afternoon, the other two paid staff members left to join him. Meaning the office was left in the hands of the interns. There are four interns in the office: myself and Tim and Jessica, all from the States, and Charlotte, from France. We all went out to lunch. One thing I love about London: there are so many great places to eat. There are little pubs and cafes on practically every street corner.

When we finished lunch I received a crash course in all my internship responsibilities, courtesy of Tim. And soon after that, I left for the day.


I think I'm going to love working there. The people are great, the work is interesting, and the location is awesome. After work I walked for two minutes down to Trafalgar Square. And yes, I had my camera with me this time. It was amazing. And there was a great view of Big Ben. I also wandered into the National Gallery and lost myself in the incredible collection of artwork. I could spend all day in there. And it's free! Except for the special exhibits; you have to pay to see those. But I can go and see the work of Manet, Seurat, Titian, Goya, Monet, etc. without paying a dime. I love London.

Navigation

I love new places. Especially when I have time to explore. I'm glad I didn't have to start work today, because (a) I'm still getting over jet lag, and (b) I had extra time to roam the city.

Yesterday afternoon my roommate Jessi and I decided to test out the Tube (London's subway system). We rode it a few stops over to Regent's Park and spent much of the afternoon wandering around. It's beautiful. It reminded me of Central Park in Manhattan. Lots of open space and VERY crowded on a Sunday afternoon. I was just excited to see grass again. I'd been in London for less than 24 hours and already I was missing the trees and grass. I think I'll be spending a lot more time in Regent's park.


Instead of taking the Tube back to our dorm, we opted to walk. I'll be honest, crossing the street here scares me. I always have to remind myself which direction the cars are coming from. If it weren't for the instructions painted on the pavement in front of every crosswalk, I probably would have been flattened somewhere along Euston Street by now.

Today I took the Tube to the EuroNews office, just to make sure I know how to get there tomorrow morning. It only took me 20 minutes, and I was about to turn around and just go home. Then I remembered something..."Kellie, you're in LONDON, for heaven's sake!" So I changed my course and headed toward Hyde Park and Buckingham Palace.

The palace was amazing. Green Park was lovely. The shops were great. And then I realized I forgot my camera. Rats.

Jet Lag

I knew it would hit me.

It's 7:30 in the morning here. And I've been awake since 4:30. I tried to get back to sleep for about two hours, but without much success.

I finally gave up trying to sleep around 6:30 and decided to get up and go running. I went about four miles, from my dorm up to Regent's park, around the park and back down. My sister Lauren would be proud of me. It was a beautiful run. The weather was perfect. And because London is less than 100 feet above sea level in most places, I could actually breathe during my run! I'm going to have a hard time going back to 4,000 feet of elevation in Utah in August. I'll probably have to scale my mileage back to about half. That'll be interesting.

Well, time to start the day. Hopefully I can function somewhat normally on five hours of sleep.

Kendra

My sister was kind enough to take a few pictures of herself on my camera before I left. That way I won't forget what she looks like.

I think this picture sums up her personality.

Thanks, Kendra. :)

British Airways

I don’t know exactly what time it is right now. My internal clock is telling me it’s about 8:35 a.m. That means it’s about 3:35 p.m. in the UK. And I’m somewhere in the middle, over the Atlantic Ocean.

I’ve been traveling since midnight. I flew from Salt Lake to New York on Delta, and from New York I hopped on a British Airways flight bound for London Heathrow. Let’s just say I’ve been FAR more impressed with British Airways. Did you know Delta actually charges extra for you to check a second bag now? You used to be able to check two bags for free. I guess we’re seeing the effects of rising gas prices; airlines are trying to save money or get more of it wherever they can.

The flight to New York was decent. I was able to get a little sleep, however fitful it may have been. I’ll take what I can get. Oh, and sleeping in contacts = bad idea. I need to catch up with the times and get myself some of those night and day contacts so my eyes don’t feel like raisins when I wake up.

When I got to New York I had to scramble around a couple terminals and walk for what seemed like an eternity to find the Air Train to take me to where I was supposed to be. It was quite a feat, considering I was dragging 98 pounds of luggage behind me, plus carry-ons. When you’re going somewhere for two months, it’s difficult to pack light. I’m getting better at maneuvering my two large suitcases; hopefully, on the return flight, I’ll be a pro. In the meantime, I’ll just consider it a very taxing workout.

I was able to get checked in just fine (by the way, British Airways does NOT charge extra for the second bag), and even had a couple extra minutes to grab breakfast. It was about 7:45 a.m. EST, and I was starving. I bought myself a banana muffin, a yogurt/granola/strawberry parfait, and some juice. And I ate it all in about 15 minutes.

I boarded the British Airways 747 (which has two floors and a VERY nice first-class section, complete with footrest and room to fully extend your legs and recline your seat…someday, when I’m rich and famous, I will fly in that section.) We took off right on schedule.

Everyone that I’ve listened to on this plane has a British accent. I’m already starting to feel out of place.

The biggest surprise of the flight so far: about an hour into the flight the flight attendants came around with a hot breakfast. What? You mean we actually get real food instead of just peanuts and apple juice (courtesy of Delta…and many other American flights I’ve been on)? This was a full English breakfast spread: hash browns, sausage, ham, eggs, fruit, yogurt, muffin, orange juice, and a little chocolate cookie to wash it all down. Wow. I was really starting to wish I hadn’t eaten such a huge breakfast at the airport. Regardless, I ate most of the food that was in front of me and saved the rest in my seat pocket so I can pull it out later. It’s college student instinct. I can’t help it.

The TV screen in front of me has a little feature that tells me how much time is left in the flight. I’m trying not to look at it too frequently so the time will pass more quickly.

Only four hours and twelve minutes to go…

Nervous

My bags are packed.
My boarding passes are printed.
My numerous government records and forms of identification, complete with unflattering pictures, are assembled.
My new Bob Schieffer book has arrived.
And I have snacks.

Yep, I think I'm set to go. I'm scared out of my mind.

Packing

I hate it. So I'm avoiding it.

I'm leaving for London in three days, and I've only just started packing. But every time I try to sit down and do it, a more attractive option presents itself. And I'm very easily distracted.

Perhaps it would be beneficial for me to explain exactly why I'm going to London. I'm going over there for a two-month internship with EuroNews, a European broadcast station. I'm working in their London office with a program called Comment Visions. Check it out. It's quite interesting. Each month they focus on a different topic and put together a sort of long-format news piece featuring an expert (the "guest speaker" of the month) on that topic. Then they ask a whole bunch of other professionals in the field (opinion leaders) for written comments on the subject. At this point, all I know of my responsibilities is that they will consist mostly of researching and establishing contact with these Opinion Leaders. And a possible trip to Brussels (can't really complain about that one). I'll try to provide a more detailed explanation once I actually start work.

I'd better get back to packing...

Zappos.com

Probably one of the best things to happen to the shoe-shopping world. Seriously. My mom would agree with me.

The other day, I was on Zappos searching for some dress shoes. I did a customized search where I selected type, size, color, and price range of shoes that I was looking for. This is one of the only times I've ever seen women's shoes available in size 10.5. That never happens! I have big feet, but sometimes an 11 is too big and a 10 is too small. I'm not sure who decided that most women's shoes didn't need to be offered in size 10.5, but apparently, when they get that big, who cares, right?

Wrong. I guess I'm one of the five people in the world that could actually benefit from that shoe size.

Fortunately for me, Zappos has the biggest selection of shoes I've ever seen. Even with my highly customized search of size 10.5 black dress shoes with a 1 3/4" to 2 1/2" heel, I had quite a selection to choose from. I found a couple pairs to my liking and placed my order.

Another thing I love about Zappos: free standard ground shipping. That's what I always get.

A few hours later, I received an email from the friendly people in Zappos customer service, notifying me that my shipment has been upgraded to Next-Day Air...absolutely free of charge. It's not every day you can get next-day air shipping for free. Whoa, these people must really love me.

Today I got my two new pairs of shoes. And they're perfect.

It starts...

I feel as though I should start off with some explanation as to why I set up this blog--some qualifying statement that will justify my stepping into the world of bloggers. Something that fellow bloggers will read and think, "Yes, she is one of us."

But alas, I can think of nothing to say. Here I am. This is me. Take it for what it's worth.