Remembering the past; affecting the future

Today was a somber day but an important one. Today we had the opportunity to learn firsthand about the devastating genocide that took the lives of more than one million Rwandans in 1994. It wasn’t a day for photographs or anecdotes or humor. It was a day for reflection, consideration and confrontation with something that was bound to upset us, confuse us and force us to think.

We began at Nyamata Memorial, where more than 10,000 people who were seeking refuge from the ‘genocidaires’ (as they’re called—those committing genocide) in a Catholic church were brutally massacred. The site is now home to a chilling memorial, the church is filled with the clothes of those killed and a mass grave holding 47,319 bodies of those murdered for no apparent reason. While we have always been taught it was an ethnic cleansing of “ethnic Tutsis” by “ethnic Hutus” we learned today that those distinctions were not actual ethnic groups. In fact, they were introduced by Belgian colonisers in the 1950s to divide and conquer the population. A Tutsi was anyone with 10 or more cattle and a Hutu was anyone else, which only served to make the genocide seem even more futile. While the entire experience was incredibly emotional, a real nerve was hit when we learned that two of our drivers had lost their entire families in the genocide and their parents and other relatives were buried right there where we were standing. To say it personalised and put a face to the experience is an understatement.

In the afternoon we visited the Kigali Museum and Memorial Garden, where more than 250,000 people are buried in a mass grave. The museum explored the history leading up to the genocide, the genocide itself and what has come afterwards. It also offered an overview of other genocides—The Holocaust, the Armenian genocide, the Cambodian genocide and the Bosnian genocide—as well as an incredibly confronting exhibition about 12 children who were killed in the genocide. This incredible museum laid the framework for the conflict, explaining the role European powers played not only in dividing the population and causing conflict, but also in its and the rest of the world’s complete and utter failure to act in the face of one of the world’s greatest tragedies. It also shined a light on how genocide has now become a continual part of our human history despite a pledge in 1948 of “never again” by every nation on earth in the United Nations.

This chilling day led to an extremely thoughtful evening circle, where we come together each evening to discuss the day’s experiences. We talked about how the day made us feel—sad, angry, helpless. We talked about the futility of war and how the driving force behind this genocide and so many other conflicts in the world is an insistence to point out what’s different about each other, us and them, as opposed to what’s similar – we are all human beings trying to be healthy and happy in this life. We discussed how this related to our own countries and our own lives, from treatment towards Australia’s Indigenous population to bullying in school. Finally, we talked about what laid ahead. What’s become crystal clear to us in our time here is that this is a nation that has forgiven each other and is moving on, learning from their tragic history to ensure that this never happens again here.  Similarly, we know that we too need to move forward with our newfound knowledge and understanding, not just of past conflict but of present efforts by World Vision and so many others to drive long-term sustainable growth and bring prosperity, equality and justice to the people of Rwanda. That leaves us, the future, to take what we’ve learned and spread a message of hope, appreciation, kindness and forgiveness in every way we can. This has been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and every student here is committed to making the most of it.

Health Programs Deep In The Countryside

Tue 30 Sep: Going far beyond a paved road

Imagine driving somewhere really remote. From there, drive another 10 kilometres deeper into the remoteness. Are you there yet? Great. Now head another 10 kilometres away from there. Perfect. Now you have some sense of just how remote our visit today felt. Our hour long drive took us deep into a valley full of green tea farms. One of the most remote villages in northern Rwanda, the valley school is responsible for educating 1,700 children and it felt like we met almost every single one.

We started our morning in the local health centre, where we were able to watch firsthand new born babies given every vaccination under the sun—polio, measles, mumps, typhoid, tetanus, tuberculosis and a few others as well! In fact, every child is vaccinated against more potential infections and diseases free of charge by the government than we are in Australia, Europe or North America! Unlike at home where we have the luxury of privacy, here the children were all together with their mothers, the doctors, a small army of 27 foreigners and anyone else who managed to wander in from nearby. We were all marvelling in just how fortunate we are to have such a modern and relatively luxurious medical system.

From here we broke into three groups and had the opportunity to experience ‘a day in the life’ of some of the students in the local community. We visited their homes where their families welcomed us in with open arms, bug hugs and a kind offering of anything they had in the home. We were confronted with the stark reality that a family of eight can often live in a three-room home, sleeping shoulder to shoulder in one room while another is reserved for animals and a third is for cooking and eating. We carried water a great distance to cook, drink and feed the animals, tiled a small garden (which was exhausting) and got the best sense possible of what day-to-day life is like here, once again being reminded of how much we take basic needs—food, water and shelter—for granted, without even realising it.

After a box lunch in the school it was time to take to the classrooms, learning with and trying to teach to the middle and high school kids at the school. Their complex physics and maths work, however, left us wishing we had freshened up our minds before arriving!  And like all great days here in Rwanda we finished with a highly competitive game of soccer, where the school fielded their best players and absolutely destroyed us. It wasn’t pretty.

It’s early to bed now as we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow learning all about the devastating genocide of 1994, that not only rocked their nation but the African continent and the world.

World Vision's locally led, sustainable education programs in Rwanda

Mon 29 Sep: The Kids

Today was day one of three project visit opportunities where the whole group had the opportunity to see firsthand where the money they have raised for World Vision is going. It was really something special. The day began with a decent drive along a washed out dirt road deep into the countryside of Northern Rwanda. We arrived at the day care centre just in time to help with the daily chores – collecting firewood to cook the kid’s lunch, collecting water to make the porridge, picking vegetables and peeling potatoes. It was a real wake-up call to think that these tasks have to be performed every day just to provide food and water to the young children.

Afterwards, the Kimberley College students were able to pop open their bags and bags of presents and enjoy a fun morning with the kids. There were bubbles, balloon animals, chalk drawings and even a foam football! It took a bit of time to really get the group going but we all slowly learned that the language of fun, happiness and laughter can break down any language barrier. Before sadly having to depart (there were several students jokingly threatening to take a child home with them) we all lined up and performed a choreographed dance to Nutbush City Limits by Tina Turner. This launched a bit of a dance-off with the children, who soundly crushed us with their singing, clapping and stomping that blew our little dance out of the water! 

Following our lunch pit-stop back at the hotel it was back on the road to meet Chantal and Promesse, the focus children of this year’s 40 hour famine. Promesse’s family has been struggling with several vital issues – food, shelter and safety while Chantal had to leave school last year to help care for her younger siblings while her mother went to work on a farm to pay for food and shelter. She is only TWELVE years old. We were all taken aback by how grown up she was, which was absolutely a factor of her situation. World Vision Australia’s programs are slowly beginning to impact these young people’s lives and we were able to hear firsthand just how significant these programs have the potential to be on their lives.

We finished the day by once again breaking down all the traditional barriers to communication—common language, culture, etc.—through sport. This time it was a rousing game of soccer that pitted the tough students of Kimberley College against the incredible skills of an entire village of World Vision sponsor children.

As you can probably imagine, even with the help of our exceptionally skilled local drivers, we were destroyed. More than anything, however, the group really learned to appreciate those rare moments when the first thing to come to mind is that we are foreign and they are local. We are white and they are black. We are wealthy and they are struggling with the cycles of poverty. Instead, for just a few moments, we were all just young people kicking a ball around trying to score a goal. It’s these moments more than any other that this group cherishes most.

We Saw Monkeys! (And The Back of a Gorilla)

Sun 28 Sep: Monkeying around

There’s nothing quite like watching the African sunrise over the hills of Rwanda. Today we got to do just that, as we had a 5:30am wake-up to ensure we were in the jungle to track golden monkeys before the midday heat pushed them deeper and deeper into the heavy rainforest.

About to begin their monkey trek

We were locked and loaded by 6:30am, zooming northward into Volcanoes National Park. After a thorough briefing from our local guides we headed off on foot. It was already hot and humid and the sun was already fierce. It poured with rain last night, which meant the air was clear, the grass was greener than greener and the path was MUDDY! We were slipping and sliding as we weaved through farmland, locals waving, smiling and yelling “hello!” as we passed.

The Volcanoes National Park

It took us about thirty minutes before we hit the dense bamboo forest, where we regrouped before continuing on. The temperature dropped instantly as we were under heavy tree cover. The mud, however, did not abate! Neither did the biting ants, which were munching at our ankles as we went. Another thirty minutes and we reached a small clearing, where we dropped our daypacks to be more nimble to follow the golden monkeys. It was just another 100 metres to the monkeys. As we re-entered the forest, Greg, our charity rep, noticed our head guide talk into a walkie-talkie and dart off into the forest at full speed. We learned later that there was a gorilla just a few hundred metres away! While they’re far more scared of us than we are of them (they’re notorious for disappearing into the forest at the sight of a human) we of course had armed guards looking after us.

Gorilla sideshow sorted, we continued onward without realising that all of a sudden the golden monkeys were all around us! Left, right, up, down, leaping from branch to branch, ripping bamboo to shreds as they ate and coming right up to us almost curious about what we were doing. They took a particular liking to Joel, who came within a few feet of them as they looked him up and down. It was a truly surreal experience being consumed in every direction by wild monkeys!

We had over an hour with them before hiking our way back out and heading back to the hotel. While it’s not quite the season for the short rains, we seem to be getting them every afternoon and today was no different. In fact, we were in our rooms no longer than two minutes before monsoon-level intense rains blew open the balcony doors and pounded us for a good solid forty minutes. It was just fantastic.

We’re now nestled safely in our next hotel just a few minutes from the World Vision northern region head office following a two-hour drive on back country dirt roads through rural villages full of warm, smiling, waving people who couldn’t stop welcoming us to their magical country. Once again, another INCREDIBLE day.

Catch up on today’s guest blog by Kimberley College student, Tiffany - read blog.

Lending A Hand In Kigali

Sat 27 Sep: Community Service in Rwanda

Wow does life feel good after a proper night of sleep! Everyone was up and ready for what turned out to be a really big day full of new experiences.

We learned last night that we were here for their monthly national day of community service, where every citizen and visitor across Rwanda spends the morning doing community service in their local area. There is a chairperson, a leadership committee and near mandatory participation. Cars are not allowed on the road, shops are not allowed to be open and even the president takes part!

We joined our local group and put it a solid few hours sweeping, raking and pruning a large section of land in the heart of Kigali.

Everyone really enjoyed the opportunity to get their hands dirty and several noted that it was a moment when they didn’t feel like tourists because everyone mucked in together regardless of anything at all.

From there we hopped in our transport vehicles and headed north for Ruhengeri, where we will visit the golden monkey preserve within Rwanda’s largest national park tomorrow. What we expected to be a scenic yet otherwise uneventful drive turned into a major cultural experience as we stopped to take in the view of the Nile river (under a different name here in Rwanda) which runs from the centre of the African continent all the way to the mediterranean sea!

Within minutes of arriving we were inundated by local kids who were curious at the large group of white people wandering around their village. This was the first experience like it for the group and it was a learning one. How do we take photos without feeling like we’re objectifying the local people? How do we not feel objectified when asked for money and food and other items? How are we perceived driving around a developing country in our convoy of SUVs while still trying to have a local experience? These questions and so many more are ones we will continue to work at answering over the next week.

We closed the day with a visit to the local market in Ruhengeri, which was also quite an experience. Again, the sites, sounds and smells took people by surprise and led to a really interesting conversation about what the word “need” really means. We’ve been here only 36 hours and already every one of us has been challenged to really think about so many aspects of our day-to-day lives. No doubt the next week will be truly life-changing. Be sure to read our guest blog by Kimberley College student, Chelsea Taylor – read blog.

It's Time For Africa!

Fri 26 Sep: “Waka Waka – this time for Africa!”

The questions of the day were most certainly “what day is it?” and “what time zone are we in?”  Both were fair questions, as it took us three flights, thirty hours, and EIGHT time zones but we’re finally in Africa!

The theme of our travel was “EAT.”  It’s all we seemed to do. Eat on the plane, eat in the airport, eat in customs, eat at the hotel, EAT EAT EAT.  Everyone has managed the journey brilliantly. Our first-time flyer Ryan was a legend, we got to experience the brand new Boeing 787 Dreamliner and even the “adults” (though we’re not THAT old) are functioning despite a serious lack of sleep.

Oh, and Shakira’s Waka Waka (Time For Africa) is running on loop in everyone’s head (check out the video!).

After showers and a little nap it was off to World Vision HQ for a security briefing followed by a wander around central Kigali, where everyone had the opportunity to take in the sights, sounds and smells of this bustling capital city.  It’s now just past 8pm and all 22 students are either fast asleep or on their way to dreamland. We have a big day ahead tomorrow. More soon!

Almost Jailed In Montenegro

I was saving this story for my final blog on this trip because it’s an absolute travel gem.  There are few days in my life that were more frightening, bizarre and hilarious all at the same time.  It of course involves a car, as all great stories on this trip do.  We’ve had difficulty getting the right car, difficulty finding gas for the car, difficulty parking the car, difficulty navigating the car around other drivers (I’m looking at you Turkey) and even difficulty backing the car up down a lane that got more and more narrow like the entrance to the factory in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  That last one was the ultimate Austin Powers moment as the car was wedged between a wall and another car (see below).  Still, nothing compares to this doozie of a day so buckle up and get ready for a rip roaring good time.

It all started in the hills of Montenegro just north of Niksic.  We had been driving for about an hour since lunch and came upon some gasoline spilled in the road which caused us to slide a little bit and resulted in a minor fender bender.  Because of our insurance, we had to call the police and obtain a report to ensure we didn’t get charged by the rental car company.  Seems easy enough.  Wrong.

A local guy offered to call the cops for us and while we were waiting it started to rain like it had never rained before.  I mean, we’re talking biblical rains and here we are stranded on the side of the road.  This is when we learned that the left two doors were now leaking, which meant said biblical rain was falling on Sarah and my head.  Awesome.  This is what also made us realize we’d need to have the car replaced.  You can’t carry on in a car that’s taking on water.  So the cop finally arrives and just immediately has that “You’re an idiot” air about him, shaking his head and surveying the scene as if to say “stupid foreign kids.”  Now, while we are indeed younger than this officer we are by know means kids.  I’m 30 for gods sake and we’re all either working professionals or obtaining higher higher degrees and yet his walk, his eye rolls and his general “you listen here sonny boy” demeanor is somehow wildly offensive.

Pasha spends a solid hour in the police car with him playing charades about what happens before he takes Pasha’s passport and drives away with no indication of what will happen next.  Our hopes of quickly picking up a new car and continuing on our trip are fading very very fast.  So now we’re once again stranded on the side of the road taking cover in an abandoned building.  As we’re standing there, another car swerves and slides and crashes IN THE EXACT SAME SPOT AS US.  We run to help and make sure everyone is okay, which they are, thank goodness.  His car is completely undrivable and a small contingent of burly southern European men push and cajole it to the side of the road.

A few more minutes pass and a tow truck arrives.  No doubt this is for our car but because there are two accidents the driver looks thoroughly confused.  Sarah and Aditi are pointing at our car like “hey man, take ours.  We were here first.  Lets get this show on the road.”  Fortunately, the police officer rolls up again before any decisions are made.  Seeing the second accident (and noting that it was caused by an upstanding father and husband), he bangs his head on his steering wheel and the air of superiority, though not completely gone, definitely begins to fade.

He assures the two truck driver that our car is in fact first up and we frantically remove all the bags from the boot as he hoists the little Skoda onto the flat bed, demands 50 euros in cash, then drives away with our rental car to god knows where.  So now we’re on the side of the road.  In the middle of Montenegro.  With no car.  And all of our bags.  And a Russian family.  And an irritable cop.  What.  To.  Do.

Fortunately, one of the local guys offers to act as our translator and coerces from the cop that I will need to go with him to the police station to make a report.  At the same time our car rental company has indicated that a replacement car won’t be with us until the following afternoon, which means we’ll be staying in wonderful Niksic for the night!  Aditi - a newly minted lawyer - suggests she come along to the police station.  Meanwhile, the rest of the team orders a taxi with plans to check us into Niksic’s only hotel.  “Meet you there in an hour,” Aditi offers up as we pull away with the policeman.  No such luck.

We arrive to what appears to be a police force in chaos.  There are officers everywhere looking incredibly busy but actually doing very little.  Cell phones are ringing constantly, people are walking with intent in every direction but as soon as you dig just slightly under the surface it’s all too easy to see that there is no substance to the activity.  An office opens a filing cabinet to reveal piles of papers strewn in every possible direction.  Bent, torn, upside down, you name it.  Meanwhile, we notice another officer in the corner typing away on his computer using only ONE finger.  Not one finger of each hand, just ONE FINGER.  It’s utterly bizarre.

Aditi and I are shuttled from room to room, no clear sense of what is happening.  The poor Russian man - who doesn’t speak a work of Montenegran - is being shouted at by a team of officers who clearly don’t speak a word of Russian.  They’re using the “if I speak louder then he will understand” approach to no avail.  Fortunately, we meet a man who speaks English and is in our same situation.  He offers to help us along and genuinely saves the day.  A solid hour later we’re brought into an interview room where I am asked to write down - in English - what happened.  This takes no more than five minutes, during which the officer receives and answers no fewer than seven phone calls on his cell phone, his ringtone blasting “I’m Sexy And I Know It” every time.  I hand it back to him and ask our new translator if he is able to find out how quickly I can get a copy of the report.  He and the officer have a short conversation before he tells me “you have to come back in an hour to see the judge who will rule on your trial.”  What the what?!

Offered no further explanation, Aditi and I beeline it to the hotel to catch up with the rest of the team, where we regale them with our absurd experiences so far before heading back to the station for our trial, which ends up not being at the station at all.  It is now after 10pm.  This debacle started at 5:20pm.  An officer shows us to his car where we hop in to be driven who knows where.  Five minutes later we arrive to what looks like an abandoned strip mall.  Our car is parked outside, still on the tow truck.  The office leads us into a lobby where we sit and wait for another hour before a woman walks out and says in English, “the judge will see you now.”  We hop up, I pass her, walk in, her the door close, turn around and see that Aditi has been left outside.  Oh no.

The room looks like the office of an insurance salesman in Glendale.  Sparse walls decorated with inspiration posters, a few desks, the oldest Dell computers on earth and some very random characters.  The judge is wearing shorts, flip flops, and a polo shirt.  His clerk is sitting to his left and on “the bench” is my translator and myself.  The cop is also sitting opposite us.  There is also a random young woman sitting in the corner playing candy crush WITH THE SOUND ON who I learn later is the “official witness” to I have no idea what.  The proceedings, I gather.

We start by my translator reading my supposed account of the accident which sounds like a East German style rewrite where I’m claiming responsibility for not only this car accident (that affected no other vehicles) but also everything else bad that has happened in the world from the dawn of time until now.  “You accept you are a bad and dangerous driver and subjected society to danger by your terrible actions,” the translator read.  “No, I didn’t write any of those things,” I respond, as we work together to rewrite the statement though I can’t read it so I have no idea what’s actually being put down.  We then confirm my name as Kyle Tyler (wrong), my address as East Vagina Ave (also wrong, and “corrected” to East Viagra Ave, no joke) and my ethnicity as - wait for it - American Samoa.  Despite correcting this the final documents of the court end up saying all of the above, which means if I am ever in trouble again in Montenegro they’ll be looking for a stalky islander who lives on Viagra Avenue.

Next the policeman goes and says their investigations have shown there was gasoline spilled on the road.  I’m thinking, “great.  The cop acknowledges there were unforeseeable obstacles.  That should wrap this up and I should be out of here in no time.”  Wrong.  Even with this admission, according to Montenegran law I can still be charged with “public endangerment” regardless of the fact that it was an accident for which I was not at fault.  I know this because my translator read directly from the 400-page book of statues that cover traffic violations ONLY.  At one point I asked her if I might go to jail.  Her response?  “Let me ask the judge.”  After a lengthy exchange she turned to me and said “no, but the judge says you will have to pay a fine.  I know it’s crazy but this is Montenegro.  It’s corruption!”  At least she was honest.

With no further additions from me the judge rendered his verdict: A fine of 130 euros payable in cash only.  As I had none on me (we had only just arrived in Montengro) the cop proceeded to drive me to an ATM where I pulled out money and was returned to the court.  When I got back the translator said to me, “good news Kyle!  While you were away I bargained down your fine to 100 euros!”  Okay, let me start by saying this is excellent news but seriously, why on earth can you BARGAIN DOWN A GOVERNMENT FINE?  This country is trying to accede to the European Union. This type of corruption just won’t cut it.  Anyway, I paid the fine in cash, got a receipt with ten different “official” stamps on it, and was then returned with Aditi to the police station to pick up the police report.  By this time it was after midnight - a seven-hour saga that ended with a  criminal record for me, a fine, and a delay in our trip.

Now all we needed was a copy of the police report, which was of course the only thing we needed to begin with and it wasn’t even for us - it was for the rental car company!  The officers told us it wouldn’t be ready until the morning (naturally) so we headed back to the hotel, drank lots of local brandy and regailed the group with our absurd happenings.  As you might expect, the next day was equally absurd.  More cops buzzing around like they had no idea why we were there, further delays, a fee that had to be paid at the post office to obtain an official receipt that had to then be brought back to the police station, several phone calls to who knows who and lots of single finger typing in the corner.  It took nearly two hours in the end just to get a copy of the report.  Our replacement car (a microscopic Chevy Aveo) arrived just after 5pm, concluding what was possibly the most absurd 24 hours of my life.  But man, does it make for a great story!

-Kyle Taylor

Sarajevo is Splendid

I first had the good fortune of coming to Sarajevo in 2004 when I was studying abroad in Europe.  My program was based in Brussels and focused on the European Union.  The EU has just taken over administration for the transitional faze of Bosnia and Herzegovina’s government.  It was less than ten years since the siege on the city and less than five years since the regional conflict ended entirely.  Blown up buildings were still commonplace.  Those that were still standing were riddled with bullet holes.  Even our hotel - The Holiday Inn and only major hotel at the time - still showed signs of having been mortared when the Serbian separatists and Yugoslav Army parked themselves in the surrounding hills and spent years shooting rockets, bombs and bullets at its residents.  They were literally trying to bomb them into submission.

The citizens of Sarajevo didn’t waiver, however.  Faced with almost certain death and no arms to fight back they built a secret underground tunnel (pictured above) beneath the airport that led from the city to “Free Bosnia” through which they funneled telecommunications, electricity, food, and armaments.  The Serbs had also cut off all water supplies into the city.  Thankfully, they were unaware that the Austral-Hungarian built beer brewery had tapped into a separate natural spring 100 years before.  This became the lifeline of the city and people smuggled in large canisters to fill up and take home on an almost daily basis.  The Serbs couldn’t figure out how the residents were staying alive and in the end, they won out though there was still a horrific loss of life and property.  Just for some perspective, this was taking place while the US was entwined with the Monica Lewinsky sex scandal and the UK were ushering in a new era of politics with New Labour’s dramatic landslide victory.  The internet bubble was still expanding and meanwhile there was a full-out ethnic conflict (and genocide) in Europe.  Amazing stuff.

The lat ten years have seen monumental change in the city and it took no more than an hour for all of us to be completely endeared by its charm, character, and all-around perfection.  From fascinating history museums (this was also the place where World War I started) to beautiful architecture, adorable pedestrian lanes to bustling market squares Sarajevo has everything a city needs to charm you.  And lets not forget the food and drinks.  Our “food highlight” was definitely a recently moved (thanks for nothing Lonely Planet) restaurant where there are no menus.  You simply tell the waiters what you like and don’t like and the chefs whip up a culinary masterpiece accompanied by soup, dessert, and bottles of champagne all for the price of a meal at McDonald’s.  The local brewery also housed a spectacular beer hall serving up pints for under a dollar.  The sites, sounds and tastes were further magnified by the people.  Lovely, kind, warm, generous, smiling people.  Our first apartment even came with its own grandma, who nattered on in Bosnian while wearing a massive smile as she cooked us local specialties in her oven.

Four days simply wasn’t enough and Sarajevo is on the top of my “return as soon as possible” list.

-Kyle Taylor

The Balkan Coast - Europe's Best Kept Secret

I had seen the pictures.  Endless coastlines dotted with beautiful coved beaches.  Picturesque jagged cliffs plunging into the sea.  Otherworldy lakes.  Charming old walled cities buzzing with an air of rediscovered glory.  Last and certainly not least, uncrowded and affordable.  The Balkan coastline absolutely delivered.

After a harrowing descent down the side of a cliff face in pitch black (the most frightening drive I have undertaken, enhanced by the fact that I was behind the wheel of a Chevy Aveo stuffed to the brim with people and bags), we rolled into the seaside town of Budva, Montenegro to find we were perhaps the only non-Russians and non-Serbs in the entire city.  It was freeing to feel like the only language-incapable guests.  Like we were totally incognito in a very backwards way.

We had dinner in the shadows of the old city walls listening to fantastic local singer belt out western diva classics that culminated in a sultry slow rendition of Alicia Keys’ Empire State of Mind.  It was totally surreal.

The next few days were spent lake and beach hopping, interlinked by gorgeous country drives and - despite it being the business month - fairly few crowds save for on the sand itself (which looked like a patchwork of leathery sunburned human flesh).  The lakes!  The beaches!  The vistas!  And of course, Sveti Bar - a little island connected to the mainland via a thin spit of sand that forms one of the most stunning coastline views I have ever seen.

From Budva it was northward to Dubrovnik via The Bay of Kotor, which felt like stumbling upon one of Europe’s best kept secrets.  It left me torn as to whether I should tell people about it so they can visit or keep it all to myself.  It was just stunning!

We completed our coastal adventure in Dubrovnik which is without question the most beautiful town in Europe.  The external walls are perfect.  The uniform red roofs are perfect.  The tiny lanes, draped in people’s washing lines and dotted with cute street lights and al fresco dining were too adorable to feel real.  In fact, that was the general feeling about the entire town - like we were enveloped in our own little fairy tale of perfection.

On our last day we rented a boat piloted by Captain Sarah French Brennan and spent from dawn to dusk island hopping along the Dalmation Coast.  It was, at times, all a bit too incredible and borderline overwhelming.  There were endless “pinch me” moments and I just can’t wait to get back.

Did I mention it’s wonderful?

-Kyle Taylor

A few gorgeous pics:

Lake Skadar, Montenegro

 Sveti Bar

 Montenegrin Alps

 Lanes in Dubrovnik

 Swimming Outside Dubrovnik's City Walls

 Butterfly!

A Case of the Mondays

I've given writing this blog a go several times in the last six months and never seemed to be able to stick with it.  I couldn't figure out why.  Was there nothing interesting to say?  Was there no political commentary to be made?  Had I lost my comedic streak?  Was I just not "seeing" the world anymore the way I used to?  One major impediment is that I can't write about work for obvious reasons (politics and all).  The other reason, I only just realized, is that the rest of my life is fairly boring.  By fairly boring I mean, for me, really boring.  The most exciting thing that happened to me today was getting an amazing deal on fresh ready-made deals at the supermarket.

I do believe I have a low threshold for boredom.  If I'm not being pulled in 3 different directions, learning something totally new, consuming news in real time, watching a TV show, and planning my weekend while on a moving train, plane, or bus I generally feel bored.  This is my reality.

As it's a new year, I'm recommitting myself to beating the bored out of me.  It may take some time, as waking up and having your first thought be when you can next get into bed is still somewhat appealing.  Also, it doesn't get light until 8am so it's not the most inspiring situation in the AM hours.  But hey, I know that's a load of excuses.  While I scheme, at least I know I'll be eating healthy, in controlled portions, and on a budget, so that's something.

-Kyle Taylor

P.S. This is NOT a New Year resolution.  It's just something I'm doing.  Resolutions are overrated and hardly ever last.  If you want to do something, just do it. Right?

Syria Isn't A War, It's a Moral & Human Obligation

What happened in Syria - the use of chemical weapons - is a moral atrocity.  It is an explicit desire to inflict pain and suffering on people and in this case, it was performed by a government to its OWN people, which is even more shocking.  What I'm saying is, there is no need to use them.  They don't do anything more than regular weapons to kill people, they just make the death more horrific and painful.  There is no point to them.

This is the argument that has been used to suggest it was "the rebels" and not the government in Syria who used the weapons, despite the fact that there is extensive evidence to show that the government has such weapons, along with a fairly decked out military.  That versus "the rebels," who are made up of several different disparate groups who aren't organised, aren't being supplied by foreign governments or groups (as opposed to the Syrian government, who is being armed by Iran and Russia).  Three international governments have ruled near conclusively (it's never possible to be 100% sure but knowing that in one incident the weapons were dropped by fighter jets pretty much rules out the rebels, no?) that the Syrian government was responsible.  Most recently, Germany.

I've been confused by the lack of public support for any action at all when you consider what has gone on and how much less we've gone to war for in the past.  Iraq - No WMDs in existence, much less used!.  In Libya, much of the same.  And yet guns were blazing in the USA for the former and around the world for the latter.  Now, this time, we have concrete evidence that a leader is brutally murdering his own people and the world is like, "no, not this time." Huh?  Here are my four points:

1. If there was ever a conflict this century to act on, it's this one.  The Syrian government has violated an obscene number of international laws, used chemical weapons to kill their own people, and caused the displacement of SEVEN MILLION PEOPLE, 2 million of them across borders.  When people are fleeing TO Iraq you know something's seriously wrong.  That's one third of the entire population displaced.  Not even the conflicts in Afghanistan or Iraq can match that.
2. We're not "helping Al-Qaeda" by taking action.  One of MANY groups fighting Assad is Al-Qaeda and in fact, the most powerful ones are secular groups in the south.  Also, is Assad's government not a terror group itself at this point, dropping chemical weapons on civilians?  Also, doesn't it offer some semblance of good will and shift the perception of people when the international community intervenes for the right reasons?
3. Um, folks, whose side do we want to be on here?  I believe it's Iran, Russia and China who are backing Assad at the minute for whatever reason.  None of them are really superstars as of late when it comes to basic human rights.  My guess is their team isn't the best choice.
4. Nothing I've written really matters because of the moral obligation we have as human beings to help other human beings who are being senselessly slaughtered by their own government using cruel and unusual methods.  I mean, dear god, how is everyone not wildly and unbelievably outraged?  This is a violation at the most human level and if something like this doesn't drive us to act my bigger fear is for humanity in general.

Hot Dog Crust Pizza & Other Ways We Know We Have Enough

Living in central London, we get about 4,761 leaflets under our door a week.  Recently, TWO pizza places have been offering their "Hot Dug Stuffed Crust Pizza," using an arrow to show exactly where the hot dog goes inside the crust for those of us who have never even heard of pizza.

We all know that in "developed" countries we have, generally, enough food (of course there are also those going hungry in the developing world, which further reinforces my point).  We know this because we have overweight and obese people, suggesting there is a significant excess of food available to us.

With that in mind, WHY ARE WE PUTTING HOT DOGS INTO THE CRUST OF PIZZA?  Some would say "why not?" and go into a long speech about how this is the American Dream and freedom and blah blah blah.  All of those arguments are absurd.  We as a society have proven that decisions like how much to eat can't be left up to us because we make bad choices and that affects everyone (healthcare costs, for example).  As such, it's time to be an overreaching government-loving liberal and call for the immediate ban on all foods that combine two foods that are terrible for you into one food.

On that note, I'd also like to ban useless crap like this strap-on knee pillow.  For those of you considering purchasing this fine piece of useless sleep accessory, please spread your legs, take on of your head pillows, and place it between them.  Close.  Done.  I just saved you $16.  You're welcome.

-Kyle Taylor

Pride Adventures

Perhaps one of the most exciting aspects of being gay is being able to celebrate with your community at parties, parades, and events the world over.  People often ask what it's about and why we do it and "what's with the costumes and outfits?"

There is no quick answer and while the sense of being part of something bigger in a world that has historically been quite hostile is certainly a central reason, right now it feels more like a real dichotomy of celebrating advances in equality that are happening globally with protesting the horrific devolution of minority rights in places like Russia.  Somehow getting together and having a good time en masse feels like a real way to do exactly what those places don't want people to do - celebrate diversity and inclusion by showing we're proud of who we are.

This year took me to Brighton and to London for some serious celebrations.  Photos below from Brighton:

And London:

Friend Adventures

One of the most brilliant bits of living in London is the number of people who fly through, stay for a bit, or decide it's the perfect place for them to live as well.  That is combined with the ease with which you can get pretty much anywhere on earth from this fine city.

Brilliantly, Amy arrived just before her birthday and is STILL HERE, which is excellent for everyone and everything but my liver:

Nipping to DC meant seeing this lovely trio:

And this less-lovely trio:

A recent move to Abu Dhabi allowed Miss Zubes to stop in for a long weekend:

Reconnecting with Stacey, Mika, and Hillary:

And catching up with the Brussels crew also while in DC:

Looking forward to more people flying through, staying for a while, or something in between as well as visiting people far and wide because the world intersect in London and London intersects the world.

-Kyle Taylor

Family Adventures

All this travel has meant tons of time with the immediate family as well as great opportunities to reconnect with family I haven't seen in years.  That also meant meeting new members of the Taylor/Brown/Burgoine clan.  Such fun!

Most importantly, we celebrated my sister's graduation in Boston:

I met this little dude:

Spent some quality time with Uncle Kit, Auntie Julie, and the legend, Grandma Jean:

Celebrated Easter with the Shepherds:

Road public transport with the Taylors:

Reconnected with the Browns/Burgoines/Other Surnames:

Met these two little dudes:

Party rocked with the legend that is Courtenay:

Let these two be friends:

And did some whiskey tasting with the ultimate Kitty Cat:

Next up, all the friends that happen to accidentally fly through London, followed by a note on Gay Pride before regular programming commences!