Here’s the big-picture overview — think maps, pins and where-in-the-world:

• Trip 1 (July – August): Kenya – Uganda – Ethiopia – Sweden – Netherlands
• Trip 2 (September): Singapore – Hong Kong – India (8 cities, north to south and east to west) – South Korea
• Trip 3 (October): London, England – Frankfurt, Germany
• Bonus Trips: Kansas City, Los Angeles and Washington DC
• Trip 4 (now):  Italy (Rome, Bergamo, Cinque Terre)
• Trip 5 (forthcoming at end November): Berlin, Germany

There are too many highlights to note here; hopefully my Twitterstream has done some justice to these over time.  In addition to my personal observations, I have a WaterCredit Twitterstream that’s focused specifically on water, sanitation and microfinance.  I talk a lot about toilets, poo and municipal water authorities these days… hmmm.  Well, given that we’ve got 2.6 billion people without appropriate WSH (that means Water, Sanitiation & Hygiene) today and — despite significant resources, time, money and efforts being expended globally — we’ll have 4 billion people like this by 2025, I’d say more people need to join these conversations.

But back to the travel theme…

Such awesome trips, all of them.  Professionally, MFI interest in WaterCredit is broad and sincere; I couldn’t be more pleased with how outreach meetings went.  The Water.org/WaterCredit team has a lot of follow-up work to do — hurray!

It was interesting and great fun to return to several places I’d visited in the past, but this time with additional work responsibilities and insights about “doing business” there.  My in-country Water.org colleagues were amazing hosts and enabled us to do, learn and experience things that I never could have done solo.  For example I will never forget the 11-course meal (including 4 rice dishes alone — with everything from coconut to cracked pepper, pomegranates and cardamom) warmly prepared by the Water.org India country director’s wife at their home in Tiruchirapalli, Tamil Nadu, and then playing shuttlecock (aka badminton) with his daughters afterwards.  And not least, the tumble I took in the street trying to return a volley.

Alongside familiar places were several new ones too.  Among them:  Uganda; Bahir Dar, northern Ethiopia; and Frankfurt, Germany.  Uganda was a trip — navigating through slums to MFI headquarters, roaming Kampala’s first 24-hour Nakumatt superstore, and eating my first matoke (yes, it tastes like wet socks).  Visiting Bahir Dar was like a step back in time, to a bucolic verdant community removed from the frenzy of Addis.  I did have to remind myself however that we were there during the short wet season, when the land is eye-poppingly green; for most of the year it suffers from drought (hence Water.org’s program there).  By the way, if you’re curious about the kinds of water-works Water.org does in Ethiopia, here’s one example.  And Frankfurt = what an unexpected treat!  I’d only been there in transit before; this time I attended a “Financing Sanitation” conference hosted by KfW.  Alongside that, we had opportunities to explore the delightful city center and ride in a bona fide Paternoster elevator.

Now checking in from Rome, it’s as lovely as ever — especially with the crisp autumn air and thinner tourist crowds — though also surprisingly expensive.  (Notwithstanding the awful $:euro rate, what’s happened to the local economy in the past 3 years?!?)  I made the delicious mistake of ordering gnocchi al tartufo bianco at a local trattoria (simple family-run locale) and got nailed $40. The cafe’ next to my hotel charges 9 euro ($13.50) for a double espresso (“only” 5 euro ($7.50) for a single). The metro is still a steal at 1 euro ($1.50) per ride, but trains are dear (80 euro ($120) for a 3-hour journey up north) and it’s better to walk around town and enjoy the sights anyway…

Which I’ve been doing whenever possible.  Piazza Navona, Pantheon, Forum, St. Peter’s, Campo dei Fiori, all my favorite places already ticked off.  Especially enjoyed wandering the backstreets of Trastevere (stumbling upon a hole-in-the-wall forno with steaming-hot fresh bread, gawking once more at the stunning mosaics of Santa Maria in Trastevere), quaffing my first in-country cappuccino at Caffe’ Sant’Eustachio, and doing a handstand in front of the Colosseum.  That makes handstands at 6 of the 8 Modern Wonders of the World (Great Wall of China, Pyramids of Giza, Petra, Macchu Picchu, Taj Mahal and Colosseum) — Chichen Itza and the Giant Jesus in Rio, here I come!  Flickr photos up shortly.

Of course the most important reason I’m here is the IDLO law-and-microfinance “grand finale” gathering.  It’s like a family reunion with participants from 30+ developing courses whom I’ve been fortunate to meet and teach over the past 3 years.  We’ve come together to discuss lessons learned and the way forward; it’s truly a humbling experience, and as usual (it feels like) I’m learning far more than contributing.  Simultaneous tracks in English, Spanish and French covering topics ranging from regulatory structures to consumer protection and branchless banking.  Wow… and makes me very excited for what could be next up for IDLO’s microfinance team.

On that note, back to microfinance credit ratings and (shortly) another espresso… Ciao for now, a presto!

You can find photos from my time in east Africa here, and Stockholm World Water Week here.  The Swedes have such a good thing going in summertime…

Today I embark on the next phase of WaterCredit travels: India.  Over the next 2+ weeks I will be in Delhi, Lucknow, Mumbai, Ahmedabad, Bangalore, Hyderabad, Chennai and Tiruchirapalli.  Hoping (and fingers crossed expecting) to find MFI feedback and interest in WaterCredit equally if not more encouraging than was the case in Africa, and very excited to see what may result.  As always you can find out more about what I’m up to on a daily basis — travel notes from the road, adventures and random observations — on Twitter.  Until the next post, off to experience life and the world to their fullest!

My time in Africa is going extraordinarily well so far; we’ve worked our way through Kenya (Nairobi) and Uganda, with time in rural Nyanza province, western Kenya (where Water.org has its regional office for Africa) and Ethiopia still to come.  The response received from MFIs about WaterCredit is both very encouraging and exciting — there is no shortage of interest! I’ve also had opportunities to see water and sanitation (watsan) projects on the ground; a very eye-opening experience, not least given the oftentimes dire water circumstances to be reckoned with.  Being able to provide small-scale finance to individuals and groups to take ownership of, and accountability for, their own water needs through WaterCredit is tremendously rewarding; the amount of demand is astounding, however, every drop counts!

Other favorite trip experiences so far include flying over Lake Victoria, meeting up with dear IDLO friends in Kampala, receiving an amazing massage from a strong Congolese woman (hearing her tale from Goma was truly inspiring), eating ugali na sukumawiki and fresh mandaazi, and visiting hippo pools.  There’s not a lot of non-working time, but somehow each day brings adventures and explorations that could keep up with the best of my travelogues anyway…

As usual, the best way to follow my day-to-day observations, impressions and Notes From The Road is on Twitter.  I’ve been tweeting up a storm on this trip, so hope you will find it fun to track me there.  I’ll be sure to safari njema!

On the former front, I’ve begun my new role as Director of WaterCredit for Water.org.  What is WaterCredit, you ask?  It’s an innovative initiative that applies microfinance tools — small loans, group-based lending models, etc. — to the water and sanitation (watsan) sector.  WaterCredit has been underway since 2003, though it’s now reaching an inflection point that demands greater outreach and strategic development; hence where I come in.  Expect to see more about water + microfinance issues (“H2O+MF” as I like to call it) in future posts, along with more travelogues.  The travel demands will be intense and fun — India, Bangladesh, east Africa, west Africa, Europe… I’m not complaining!

No sooner did I dive deep into WaterCredit for a few weeks, than it was time to hit the road for IDLO.  Destination: Jordan, for the MENA regional microfinance course.  Jerry and I packed up — still proud of the fact that the two of us can fit everything for 3 weeks into one bag together — and headed east.  En route we stopped over in England, for the wedding of a dear friend in the English countryside outside Malvern (Worcestershire).  Perfect weather, copious Pimm’s and fancy hats, and some day-after ambling through hillsides that would make Beatrix Potter and Leonardo Da Vinci both proud.  Stunning and memorable!  A few ramble pictures here.

The IDLO course was held smack on the Dead Sea, with the West Bank directy across; at night we could see the lights of Jerusalem twinkling in the distance.  As usual the IDLO participants were a lively, diverse group coming from 12 countries/territories including Yemen, Palestine, Iraq, Syria and Kuwait (yes, there is microfinance in Kuwait).  Days were spent talking about MFI investment, Islamic finance and the impact of the global financial crisis on microfinance (as the temperature soared above 115 degrees F outside), while evenings were spent staying cool in the multiple pools on hand.  And of course, a dip in the salty Dead Sea for good measure — so fun to just bob and flop around in the buoyancy!

Post-IDLO we took some extra time to explore the rest of the country, easily falling in love with its uber-friendly people and marveling at its diverse and magical geography.  (No comment on the searing heat though.) The first leg was by public transport, a hot dusty 6-hour bus ride south to Petra (and the funky tourist town of Wadi Musa right beside it — it means “Valley of Moses” in Arabic).  Petra did not disappoint, and by all means earns its claim to fame as one of the Seven New Wonders of the World.  It’s especially magical at the crack of dawn, when you can have the Siq all to yourself, or late at night when the entire Milky Way opens itself up to you amidst thousands of candlelights and Arabian music wafting beyond.  What’s more, I’ve now done handstands at the majority of these destinations; Petra handstand is #4, and #5 (Colosseum of Rome) is slated for later this year.  Hurray!

In Petra we rented a car from a guy named Said — should we be worried about driving in the Middle East? — and headed down the King’s Highway towards the fabled Wadi Rum desert, aka Lawrence of Arabia’s backyard.  It was hot, hotter than I could have imagined, but apparently not as hot as it can get (we saw 117F, but “that’s nothing” compared to 135F in July I was told).  There were multiple camel traffic jams which were fun to photograph and partake of.  We nearly ran out of gas and that felt really scary.  The landscape is like nothing I’d ever seen — the best I can describe is a surreal combination of the moon, Grand Canyon, Moab (Utah) and the Sahara.  But even that’s not quite right; you’ve got to see it in person to understand its unique immensity.

We baked in Wadi Rum, saw an amazing sunset and feasted on spit-roasted meats grilled over a zerb (Bedouin pit fire). Ah yes, Bedouins — and ah yes again, food!  The Bedouin culture pervades much of Jordan, and their nomadic-tent lifestyle and extraordinary generosity are present at every turn. I found it difficult to determine what is uniquely Bedouin, but anyone from the tribe will promptly let you know.  The diet consists of staples like camel meat, dates and goat’s milk, none of which I got to try (even though I tried hard to find them).  Nevertheless Jordanian cuisine leaves little to be desired — delicious at every turn.  In addition to staples like baba ghanouj and shwarma, favorite dishes include fuul medames (fava beans with chillies and olive oil), shanklish (a cross between chevre and bleu cheese, doused generously with thyme and cracked pepper) and the divine fattoush (salad of tomatoes and cucumber with deep-fried pitta-like croutons and sumac spice).  It was also a cause of much amusement to ask for pitta and get a quizzical look in reply; there it’s not pitta, just khobz (bread).

From Wadi Rum we shot due north along the King’s Highway again (and beyond).  We visited the Crusader castles and ruins at Shobek and Karak, along with the Dana Nature Reserve (and dilapidated village of the same name, clinging precariously to the side of a cliff).  It truly felt like no-person’s land in the middle of the country — so windswept, even if you whistled it blew away — though at the same time close and connected to the entire history of humankind.

We rolled into Madaba late at night, and the next day explored the city’s renowned Roman mosaics (good enough to rival those of Sicily and France), souq and hidden alleyways.  This was followed by an excursion along the Dead Sea Parkway, taking in the Ma’in hot springs, Dead Sea Panorama, Bethany-beyond-the-Jordan (where Jesus was baptized) and Mount Nebo (where Moses saw the Promised Land) en route.  It also brought us full circle, back to where we had taught not long before.  The next morning we were homeward bound (almost — still had several days in NYC first).  What a great trip.

So if you’ve made it this far, thanks – and here’s the link to my full Flickr album from the trip.  Enjoy, and stay tuned for more H2O+MF plus travel adventures; for starters I’m headed back to east Africa  at the end of this month.

And yes, Twitter remains the best way to follow my whereabouts and goings-on more frequently…

And so, my adventures continue.  Continue wonderfully, exceptionally well, and unfortunately all to quickly.  The last time you heard from me I had just wrapped up in Viet Nam, and in the month since then I have explored two very different archipelagos, those of The Philippines (Filipinas) and Indonesia (the ‘capital’ island of Java (Jawa) and the paradise-on-earth called Bali).  This installment could also be called The Island Phase, as it has entailed significant island-hopping, endless kilometers of coastline, and yet another new manifestation — and appreciation — of diversity.  This time the diversity is that which has been dictated by geographic distance and remoteness.  While Indonesia as a whole has several aspects in common with Malaysia, both Bali and The Philippines are worlds apart.  I found each of them to be wildly and uniquely fascinating, and all the moreso when put in reference and contrast to the places I’ve already visited.

The Philippines is a Catholic, meat-eating, English-speaking, basketball- and America-obsessed ‘blip’ in Southeast Asia.  The people and the ‘eighth wonder of the world’ rice terraces of North Luzon rank among the best things about the country (see below), and the congested megalopolis of Manila is undoubtedly the worst.  Little idea of the latter did I have upon arrival there.  My first impressions were shaped by traffic, television, armed security guards and artificial ingredients.  To call Manila ‘a big pit’ is an understatement; a 10-km, 1 1/2 hour taxi ride to my guesthouse was ample proof of that.  En route I had plenty of opportunity to view not only the capital’s urban filth, but also the delightful Filipino adaptation known as the Jeepney.  Basically refit, decorated, and blessed-by-the-virgin-Mary US army vehicles, jeepneys are the brightest thing on the road — though they do not provide the most comfortable ride!  Gone were the cyclos and tuk-tuks…

… And in came Western culture.  Too much of it for my taste.  Filipino society goes nuts over anything American, and I even heard the country joked of as “the 51st state” by Filipinos themselves.  Where this insatiable interest comes from, and whether it is more the result of US exportation or the Filipinos actively seeking it out, I don’t know.  However, in a rare change of suit for me (who usually finds fault with McDonald’s and The Disney Store as instigators of cultural homogenization) on balance it seems that the Filipinos collectively are more responsible for the mass influx of music videos, tshirts and fast-food joints.  New York Knicks game statistics grace the front pages of the major newspapers and 4-year-olds can sing Madonna tunes by heart, yet I didn’t see noticeably more advertising or physical US presence than anywhere else in Southeast Asia.

Oh, yes, the fast-food joints.  They are an unavoidable part of any Filipino town, and are in large part the culprit of the pathetic state of Filipino food in general.  What a lowlight!  Granted, coming on the heels of Viet Nam and preceding Indonesia, it was up against stiff competition.  But even so, not only could it not compare, but I would have to rate it low even relative to other countries like Hungary or Iceland.  Definitely not a source of national pride!  Empty calories, fried snacks at every turn, and the fact that there exist more pre-packaged foods than in the United States.  I had looked forward to Spanish-inspired arroz dishes and spicy island fish, but was sorely disappointed.  The four main food groups appear to be:  Nescafe’ (with non-dairy creamer only — indeed, what baffles me still is that there are NO dairy products available of any sort.  No fresh milk, no yogurt, no cheese… and this in a country chock-full of cows!  Just one of several Filipino conundrums…); potato chips; fried pork of every imaginable sort; and various white, super-sweet pastries.  And ironically, portions were often large enough to serve two!  It was a no-win situation.  Granted, there are some tasty national dishes such as Adobo (pork, chicken or beef stewed in a marinade of soy sauce, black pepper and vinegar) and Pancit Canton (wide noodles stir-fried with mixed greens, peppers and liver) which I enjoyed.  And one bonus (term used tongue-in-cheek) that the eating experience did permit was in-depth observation of karaoke and videoke culture.  Yikes!

I had decided to focus my time in The Philippines on the island of Luzon, and spent 8 days doing a circuit through its northern reaches.  This area is home to the native Ifugao people who, some 2000-3000 years ago, constructed spectacular wet-cultivation rice terraces.  The first stop on this loop was the hill town of Baguio, nestled in the mountains some 7 hours north-west of Manila.  You arrive via the windy Marcos Highway, which is complete with a mini Mount Rushmore version of Ferdinand himself.  Baguio is little more than a transit and market town, whose claims to fame are (in my opinion) a silver workshop run by European missionary nuns, and the biggest, brightest carrots I’ve ever tasted.  It was interesting to see the various steps involved in filigree silversmithing (most of the workers are disabled and would otherwise be unemployed), and I overdosed on vitamin A– I had to take advantage of the few fresh fruits and vegetables I could get!

I stayed in Baguio long enough to get my bearings and plan my circuit properly, and then headed east to my next stop:  the ‘alpine’ village of Sagada.  The 6-hour curvy, scenic bus ride got off to an unexpected start with casual, no-big-deal talk of a military coup on the morning radio news.  Apparently gigolo-actor-turned-prime minister Joseph Estrada was having yet more difficulties in office, and his popularity (along with the stock market, thanks to rumors of corrupt officials and his doling out key business deals as favors to close friends) continued to plummet throughout my visit.  I tried talking to several people during the week about politics — from Marcos to Aquino to Ramos and now Estrada — but got overwhelmingly disinterested responses.  From what I could tell, it is not at all that Filipinos are ignorant or fearful of discussing politics, but they are very apathetic towards it.  They would rather talk about cock-fighting, or their families, or (you guessed it) basketball.

The people.  The Filipinos are the best — unbelievably friendly, curious yet polite, helpful yet respectful of one’s space and privacy.  All foreign women are “ma’am” regardless of age.  Foreign women traveling solo are considered quite an oddity but not ‘fair game’ to harass as in so many other countries.  In fact I found the men to be exceptionally nice, and all-around quite different from their counterparts elsewhere in Southeast Asia; with their machismo, dark sunglasses, gold chains, heftier builds and moustaches, they struck me as more akin to Central American hombres.  But without incessant whistles and catcalls, it was welcome relief.  (I have also by this point ‘given up’ and been saved a lot more hassle when questioned about my marital status by responding, “Yes I have a boyfriend, and in fact we are meeting up again this weekend to travel together.”  It works like a charm!)

Sagada is a tiny, lazy village that serves as a good introduction to the rice terrace region (as there are several series in the area, which look amazing to the first-time visitor but pale in comparison to what comes next) and has some excellent hiking opportunities.  I climbed up mountains, down to waterfalls, and across valleys to see some famed ‘hanging coffins’ (really, preserved wooden coffins suspended mid-air!).  And even in this most remote of locales, there were missionaries.  It is strange; they are omnipresent and though the Filipino population is 90% Catholic, religion per se oddly is not very visible at all.  Churches are plentiful and people attend mass (it was neat to stumble upon a wedding once), but it all occurs in a very sedate, done-without-thinking manner.  It certainly was a change from the spiritual fervor of most other countries on this trip.

Just 10 km (or an hour by jeepney) from Sagada is the town of Bontoc, and I headed there the following morning.  My plan was to hike to the famed Malingcong terraces and village of the same name.  Upon learning that the 8 km one-way trip was straight uphill, I followed my guesthouse owner’s advice and took a jeepney there– and am so glad I did!  For had I not, I would not have met Nora, Brenda, Josephine, Manny or Nimrod.  These were 5 of the 15 people crammed into the vehicle, and we enjoyed a lively chat together.  This group was indicative of a larger phenomenon in The Philippines:  that of bilingualism.  Everywhere, nearly everyone speaks at least some English.  This is a boon for travelers — even for me, who usually strives for a more ‘authentic’ (read: at times frustrating) experience with locals.  Even among themselves, friends switch from Tagalog to English from sentence to sentence — it certainly makes for interesting eavesdropping! We spoke about the terraces (they all came from Malingcong village, population 300), my trip, and North America.  They asked me about my family (response:  boyfriend!), and I asked them about their names.  Many Filipinos carry first names of English or Spanish origin and Filipino last names; it makes for quite a combination.  I did see/meet some pretty funny examples en route, however, such as a man named Boston (his grandfather had been the first person from that village to go to the US, and had gone to Massachusetts), or Red (yes, after the Sox), or the unfortunate person named Inept.  Ouch!

We arrived at the end of the road (literally, as the village of Malingcong itself is further 3 km into the hills and accessible only by narrow footpaths through the terraces) and were greeted by a cool, light drizzle.  Great, I thought, it will add to the ambiance and I won’t get swelteringly hot while climbing around.  I began the descent and was left breathless within 2 minutes.  How can I describe the terraces adequately?  Level upon level of still water, hand-constructed earthen banks (at Malingcong, or stone at Batad), shimmering and placid, with tufts of bright green springing up by the hundreds from the water.  April is rice planting season, so I was there at the best possible time.  The terraces are perched on rugged, steep hillsides, usually occupy an inner cove-like area, and often extend down gorges and valleys beyond eyesight.  It is said that if all of Luzon’s terraces were put end to end, they would stretch for more than 20,000 km.  Often, but not always, you see old women in cone hats, standing calf-deep in the water, hunched over and tending the sprouts; it is a sight to behold.

I clambered down, over, around, through, and back up the other side of the terraces and arrived in the village (if you can even call the collection of tin-roofed lean-to’s that– though there was a one-room primary school, and old posters tacked up in English!).  Turning around, and getting hungry, I started the hike back.  About 15 minutes into it, just when I had reached the middle of terraceland, an unbelievably thick fog rushed in from nowhere (like on Mount Everest, but warmer) and I found myself totally lost, on a mud bank the width of a balance beam, with nothing and no one around.  Trying not to panic and realizing quickly that I was up for an adventure whether I liked it or not, I began slowly to navigate in the direction I had been heading.  A good idea until I reached the end of that terrace, when both bank and stairs ceased to exist.  Trying my best to keep my balance, I stretched my leg gingerly down towards the next visible bank, and — flop — before I knew it I was calf-deep in rice water and mud, with the rain now pouring down and the fog still soupy.  I tried to lift one leg up and — big oops — the muddy quicksand ate my sandal.  Now this was really getting comical.  I took off my rainjacket to that I could plunge my arms free into the muck and retrieve my shoe.  Success, but now I was soaked– to say nothing of dirty, and still lost!  I sat down on the bank, covered in mud, and as I was putting on my soggy sandal noticed a triangle of bright yellow.  It got bigger and… oh my god, it was the pointy cap of a woman checking her rice stalks!  She was startled to see me, but I couldn’t have been happier to follow her back.  I still had another 11 km to walk back to Bontoc, but it was fantastic– the fog gradually cleared as I descended to reveal a stunning landscape of forested mountains, rushing rivers, country architecture and terraces visible around almost every corner.

As if Malingcong wasn’t enough, it was when I left Bontoc and went south to Banaue (45 km or 2 1/2 hours by jeepney — by now you’re probably getting a good idea of the condition of the roads!) and especially to Batad that the fun really began.  Truly, otherworldly.  The 3 days and 3 nights spent in this area were in all honesty not only the highlight of Filipinas, but one of the entire trip as well.  I still cannot imagine who would/could have ever built such terraces at 90 degree angles on sheer mountain crests — or why, or why here on these mountains — but at this point such questioning is futile.  Rather, it is better to focus on having gone, tread lightly, marveled, come away with a much refined appreciation of so many things in life (and hopefully taken some good photos).

My arrival in Banaue set the stage perfectly.  As the jeepney blew up dust and we (there were only a dozen or so passengers– a light load) barreled into town, the funniest, most ‘old meets new with style’ sight appeared.  On the side of the road was an ancient (she could have been 60 or 100, and had the weathered tanned skin of a fragile elephant) Ifugao woman.  She stood perhaps 4′8″ in height and was small-boned as a sparrow.  She was naked from the waist down except for a wide indigo sash which was wrapped haphazardly around her waist (but did a good enough job for modesty).  Her hair was wrapped in a similar indigo turban, upon which was perched a giant pair of mirrored plastic sunglasses, lopsided.  Furthermore she had a frayed Chicago Bulls scarf draped over her shoulder, and when coupled the the gnarled branch that she used as a cane to hobble with, it made for a perfect lesson in ‘cultural awareness.’

I settled into my guesthouse room overlooking the Banaue gorge (price:  $3.50 per night), tromped around 2 nearby villages in the afternoon, made sure all of my plans and packing for the trek to Batad were set, ate some pork adobo and called it a day.  The trek to Batad is a notably strenuous one, typically involving a tricycle ride for 12 km to the junction where the road ends, and from where all persons must hike — uphill — approx. 3 hours to the village itself.  No problem, I mused, I should be there by noon.  Famous last words… you can imagine what went through my mind the next morning when I awoke to learn that there had been a landslide the night before which had made the road impassable to all vehicles.  Ugh!  But not to worry… what’s an extra 12 km? I set out along the road, and most happily walked the whole way.  I passed the landslide on foot (it was a doozy — a good 10 feet high), met a group of 3 young Filipino women with whom to hike, and witnessed some of the most incredible scenery in my life upon arrival (at which point, yes, I was sweaty and tired– but overawed).  Again, how to describe it?  Batad (population 1000) is situated IN the terraces; it is a small village of thatched roofs and tiny Ifugao people that is approached from the crest above.  It is as if you are on top of the world, and the world is nothing more than green, rice, banana trees, waterfalls, and steep cliffs.  Indeed, not only are there no roads bigger than a footpath into Batad, but there is no electricity, no consistently running water, no ‘products’ other than what is carried in by hand– and interestingly, there is essentially NO desire to change this status quo.  And I must say, after a further 4 hours of hiking (for a total of 9), waterfall-swimming, and terrace-scrambling in the afternoon, sitting on the terrace by candlelight that evening, listening to a young village man strum the guitar, and staring down into the black nothingness of Batad by night, I’ve got to agree.  My only wish is that they could have ice somehow, so that the beer could have been cold!

We awoke before sunrise for another full day of trekking, this time with a guide; most of the trails in the area are far too sketchy to trust one’s instinct.  More amazing views, more waterfalls, more women planting rice and sweet potatoes, more chirps of “Hello!” as we passed by.  By the time we made it back to Banaue early that evening, I was utterly exhausted.  And happy.  And it was time to begin reflecting on my Filipino experience and preparing for the next islands…

On balance, The Philippines are not among my favorite countries in Asia, but they are definitely unique.  In addition to the Spanish influence, Catholicism, and the obsession with Americana, one also finds an exceptional basketry tradition (though otherwise the tourist goods to purchase are depressingly cheap and tacky), a wonderful laissez-faire attitude, and a zest for living that has led to a disproportionate number of 24-hour shops and restaurants.  I enjoyed my time there and would welcome an opportunity to return — but don’t mind that I didn’t plan to spend more time on my first visit.

Last week I was in Boston to attend a Gates Foundation-sponsored symposium on savings-led microfinance.  It was held at the Fletcher School, so great to take a trip down memory lane.  Spent time at Harvard and met the founder of SeedingLabs, another social enterprise focusing on in-country scientific research in the developing world and that I am keen to see expand dramatically in the coming years.

My eyes were opened to the power of savings as part of a broader platform of financial products and services for the world’s poor and underserved communities.  I’ve often encountered legal, regulatory and big-picture policy issues related to savings:  what kind of entities can and cannot offer savings, appropriate prudential and non-prudential regulations, and so forth.  But I hadn’t spent much time on the different grassroots, village-based, self-regulating (so unregulated from a governmental perspective) approaches that are taking root around the world.  Although not without their own set of challenges, they offer a robust new tool to deploy as part of a broader financial platform in many countries.  Oxfam’s Savings for Change program is one such example, but there are a surprising number of others.  And there’s clearly a role for linkages among these smaller groups with larger MFIs, though much debate remains as to the appropriate “linkages” to forge, as well as when and how to foster them.

Following the principal gathering day, there was a half-day open space for microfinance practitioners.  Par for the course, it was a highlight of the entire symposium.  We spent time discussing topics as broad as the Psychology of Savings (and how cognitive biases factor in) and how to foster more savings initiatives for youth.  Regarding the latter I learned more about organizations like the Corporation for Enterprise Development (CFED) with savings-led programs in the U.S., and Aflatoun, based in the Netherlands and operating throughout the developing world.  CFED and Aflatoun’s activities resonate with me on multiple levels, not least the connection between Youth + Savings + Education investment.

So as I continue to navigate my current crossroads, even more to think about — how do we spur more action and innovation in this space, especially for future generations (and in a way that gives younger cohorts some control and meaningful responsibility in the process)?

Incredible how time has flown by.  African adventures, holidays, Obama administration and more positive changes on the horizon…

The best way to track me these days (including all of  my African travelogues, which now seem like a long time ago) is still on my Tweetstream.  However I do plan to write a longer, more ‘robust’ narrative in the coming weeks.  No promises as to when it’ll be ready, but whenever it is you’ll be able to find it here.

Quick recap since my last post.  Africa trip highlights are too numerous to list, but here’s a snapshot:

• Meeting Obama’s grandmother Sarah in the very rural ‘village’ (read: dirt road, mud huts, smiling kids and scrappy dogs) of Kogelo, western Kenya
• Bicycling down the escarpments of the Great Rift Valley, through banana plantations and ending up on the shores of Lake Nakuru with zebras to my right, wildebeests to my left and a rainbow overhead
• Feeding giraffes by hand, cruising by a fabled white rhinoceros and viewing lions less than 5 meters away
• Hiking through a Zanzibari “spice farm” and plucking fresh nutmeg, cloves, vanilla, peppercorns (5 colors), ginger, cacao, annatto, lemongrass, cardamom, tumeric, cinnamon, curry leaf and more from the branches and vines, then eating a simple meal with a village family that used the spices we’d brought
• Celebrating Jerry’s birthday with spit-roasted goat, green bananas and new Maasai and Chagga friends
• An impromptu morning concert with about 40 local schoolkids dancing and grooving to their hearts’ delight, with spontaneous portraits captured happily afterward
• Crossing the equator 4 times in one day — and doing a handstand on it, of course
• And last but definitely not least, spending several wonderful days teaching at the IDLO law-and-microfinance course in Tanzania with participants from everywhere from Malawi to Madagascar to Nigeria to Uganda and beyond… an amazing, fun, inspirational group and I learned so much too!

Flickr photo albums can be found here:

• ETHIOPIA
• KENYA
• TANZANIA

Returning to San Francisco after a marathon 37-hour journey (which included taxis, boats, buses and planes) was like entering another, faster, chillier, almost surreal world.  Cars went way too fast, there were no large animals grazing at the roadside, and shops were so large and brightly-lit… strange!

Happily it was also the holiday season, so enjoyed that to the fullest.  Then the new year, lovely family visits, some microfinance speeches… and here I am, here we are, so blessed and lucky and thrilled to be alive at this amazing time.  We donned our matching Obama kangas, purchased from a roadside stall in rural Tanzania, proudly throughout the inauguration celebrations — then saw the exact same one greeting Obama in the White House!

On that note, get ready for some hopefully exciting, positive changes on the horizon — in Washington DC, and also closer to home here in San Francisco.  Kwaheri for now!

I’ve been on the road for almost 2 weeks now, yet due to lack of both quality internet access and time have not been able to blog as much as I’d hoped.  It’s been an amazing journey so far, as I’d hoped and expected… Addis Ababa, Nairobi, and now a small village (no electricity) in rural western Kenya near the Kakamega forest reserve.  I’ve hob-nobbed with cabinet ministers about legal reform for microfinance; seen zebras, giraffes, gazelles and even the fabled white rhino at close range; and experienced family hospitality and microentrepreneurship first-hand.  It’s an extraordinarily rich, diverse, warm and fascinating area, yet saddled with a problematic history (on many levels) and current obstacles to change.  Obama and his legacy live strong here — even 5 year olds know his name, and his portrait is painted on the side of many buildings.  I am delighted to be one of the first unofficial “foreign ambassadors” of the new-administration-to-be and can only hope that the push for meaningful change becomes a truly global movement.

I’ve also come to realize that online connectivity is not one of the region’s strengths.  So it’s probably best not to get my (or anyone else’s) hopes up by promising to blog “live”; rather, I may end up reverting to offline observations and note-taking, to be followed by a more comprehensive travelogue post after-the-fact.  It will depend in part on whether access options get any better in the coming weeks…

Meanwhile I’ve posted many “mini-blogpost” tweets online, which can be found here.  At least they provide a few snippits and insights into what I’ve experienced so far.  Please continue to check back at the same Twitter link, as I intend to update it as often as I can!

Kwaheri for now…

I moderated a BarCamp panel on social, cultural, political and development issues in Africa. A fabulous diversity of perspectives — from documentary filmmaker Amie Williams‘ experiences of the Kenyan political violence through the eyes of a teenage girl, to Joseph Nganga’s efforts at alternative energy and rural needs thanks to companies like Vipani, to Josh Goldstein’s work with Google regarding internet policy and the specific needs of Africa (and a Fletcherite like me!), to Ken Banks‘ initiative to deploy technology to community health workers and hospitals in rural areas, to Kjerstin Erikson’s organization FORGE that works with post-conflict refugees in Zambia and beyond. Other highlight breakout sessions included an African music and dance journey, brainstorming about the likes of the XPrize, and taking an extraordinary Google Maps adventure above, below and around the continent.

Less than 48 hours later, I found myself at SoCap. Along with some 700+ other people — double the original capacity, from what I understand — packing into Fort Mason and eager to meet others interested in going “beyond microfinance” and pushing the double bottom line and social investment envelopes further.

There were more than 50 breakout sessions organized by the SoCap team, plus an unconference day facilitated by Jerry Michalski. Particularly noteworthy organized sessions included New Spin on Old World Development, Design in the Developing World, Venture Philanthropy and International Government Investment, Sustainable Energy Investments for the BOP, New African Capital and Scaling US Social Enterprise (that’s only a small fraction of what was on tap). The day was capped off by an engaging, challenging Oxford-style debate regarding whether profit maximization is the best way to reach and assist the poor. I lost count of how many times I heard the word “philanthrocapitalism”…

I must say — and not only because of my connection to Jerry — that the unconference day was the best of all. Not only because it allowed participants to own and direct the discussions themselves, but also because this format finally provided “something different” at this type of conference. A forum to connect with others on one’s own terms and with one’s own thoughts in the open. A chance to let discussions take tangents, which 99% of the time lead to even better things. An opportunity around every corner to be surprised, challenged and reminded about the myriad avenues to build community.

A sampling of the unconference sessions I attended (can we say, custom-tailored to what’s most relevant to me these days?!):

• “Legal / structuring 101″ for social investing (including VC folks, entrepreneurs and a few lawyers for good measure)
• Social impact metrics and measurement parameters
• Franchising social enterprises (including e.g., microfranchising)
• Fortune 500 companies: Can they innovate via social investment?
• Social investment in Africa
• Alternative exits, with an emphasis on legacy

I’m looking forward to staying in touch with so many people from SoCap (big question: might we work together someday?) and look forward to SoCap 2009 already. As for BarCamp Africa, I’m not sure if it’s an annual event but definitely think it should be — and its relevance will be felt again quite soon, as exactly 3 weeks from today I’ll be Ethiopia-bound!

A couple of unique recommendations for anyone interested in further-flung travel, in one case Africa specifically and the other with more global appeal. BarCamp Africa is slated to take place on October 11 at the Googleplex and offers to be an extraordinary day full of issues, ideas and initiatives related to the continent (and people keen to learn more about them, get involved more directly, or who already have relevant and want to share it). I’ve been asked to moderate a panel on social and human issues in Africa (people, politics, policy). What an honor. I expect that much will dovetail also with economics (including, of course!, microfinance).

My Africa trip planning has also gotten a kick start thanks to the new Offbeat Guides. The concept is fantastic — customized travel guides for cities / places around the world that are created online (and then formatted into a printable, pocket-sized, user-friendly PDF). Included are weather forecasts, festivals and special events, etc. specifically for the dates you will be there. No more lugging around bulky travel guides of which only 10% of the info is relevant at any given time. No more worrying if you lose a guide en route (or anger at oneself if you loan it to a fellow traveler who unexpectedly takes the next bus out of town and leaves you stranded in a rural village in, say, outer Mongolia). I test-drove the site by creating a guide for Addis Ababa. More detailed info is definitely still needed for this particular city, though I doubt Addis is high on most people’s travel wish list and am confident it’ll be better by the time of my departure. What I would like to see most of all, however, is a travelogue component to each Offbeat Guide. Not least because of my own travelogging passion and tenure — maybe I’ve finally found another outlet-idea for them? — but especially because thanks to others’ feedback to mine, I believe that candid, offbeat, first-hand recounts of “stuff that wouldn’t normally be found in guidebooks” can be truly invaluable in helping others to see the world in a new perspective, whether doing so on-the-road or in an armchair at home.

On that note, six weeks… and counting!