Lac Assal, Djibouti

photo by Todd Katschke

When in Djibouti, be sure to visit Lac Assal. It is the lowest point in Africa, third lowest depression on earth, the world's largest salt reserve, and the world's 2nd most saline body of water.

Translation: The water is crystal clear and you float--- like really float-- as in sit a child on your stomach and you still float high without effort, and you'd better bring extra water for rinsing off because it is so salty that your entire body becomes covered in salt crystal as soon as you start to dry.
 

The other thing to do at Lac Assal is collect salt pearls and salt crystals.  They make great natural art for home.  These Djibouti salt pearls are so unusual that they were featured on Salt News (I know, the fact that there is a news blog dedicated to gourmet salt is amazing to me too).   According to Salt News, you can  

"serve Djibouti Boule in a gimlet, using gin from the freezer and adding the salt ball at the last minute.  You then drink in a race against the dissolving salt.  Or wrap a Djibouti Boule with ground lamb, egg, breadcrumbs, and herbs and do meat-encrusted salt balls, meating your salt instead of salting your meat is not just witty, it’s delicious, and plays with the cooking time and texture of the food in interesting ways.  Or just enjoy the tactile pleasure they offer.  I keep a bowl of the on desk and roll them around between my fingers when I’m trying to figure something resistant to figuring, like what to do with Djibouti Boule. Roll some Djibouti Cutie around a plate with more angular geometries of sashimi, or melon, or what have you.  Perch some atop a beet and goat cheese salad for visual drama and textural intimidation (the crystals are actually somewhat soft, but seem hard as marbles). Scatter grilled or broiled seafood with Djibouti Pearl. Let some intermingle with the juices of a steak, a lobster salad, or what the heck, an oyster. Djibouti Dew is effectively a sprinkling salt.  It has an elusive, but ultimately hard and in your face intensity that makes it suitable for spicy foods found anywhere from Thailand to Madagascar to Peru to Mexico."

See that white stuff? It's not foam; it's salt crystals

collecting salt beads

Taylor collecting salt beads; photo by Stuart Denyer

Salt pearls; photo by Todd Katschke

A BBC news corespondent also did an article on Lac Assal, but it is a bit of a downer,  and I promised you posts about the enjoyable parts of life in Djibouti, so I'll just mention it in passing. 

SIFAT build update

"So, Taylor, what happened with that construction project in Lusaka that you spent so much time telling us about?  You never got around to doing a follow-up blog on it."

I'm so glad you asked.  Those of you who know me well or have read my blog posts from when I was working in Zambia know that through no planning of my own (i.e. the hot potato dropped firmly into my lap not long after arriving to town) I ended up playing a major role in helping the United Methodist Church's Lusaka district obtain a title deed on a large plot of land north of town and acted as the communications link between SIFAT and district leadership. I expressed to you my mixed emotions about the initiative--about how the missiologist in me would suggest to anyone considering such a thing to run away quickly, and yet how I sensed that I was being called to shepherd this project precisely because I was keenly aware of the difficulties it would face.

After the countless trips to bureaucratic government offices I had truly hoped that, if anything, the district leadership would succeed in obtaining a title deed and that I would still be around the hold that dang piece of paper in my hands.  My wish was finally granted one month before I left Zambia.  Rev. John Ilunga beamed with pride when he returned from the Ministry of Land, and I squealed with joy.


 

I got to be around to see the caretaker's house built (which John, Mary and their children live in), the exterior enclosure completed, and the much of the main building's structural elements go up.  Was even given the honor of preaching at the first official worship service in the building.

There's a little Evelyn in that big belly!

The construction stage is still ongoing and volunteers are welcome.  So if you'd like to spend a vacation going on safari, seeing Victoria Falls and meeting some great people--and helping them build a conference/training center while you are there, contact my friends at SIFAT. 

Whale Sharks and Lac Abbe, Djibouti

Our colleague Fausto DeGuzman got a GoPro camera and created these two great videos while here in Djibouti.

Whale Sharks  (yes, I got to swim with whale sharks too on a later date---amazing experience)

Road trip to the chimneys at Lac Abbe--I went on this trip

(organized by my friends Armina and Rony at Phoenix Travel Services )

Joy of Djibouti

Floating in Lake Assal, the lowest point in Africa and the world's largest salt reserve

This weekend I hit the 6 month mark of my time living in Djibouti.  Six straight months without leaving the country, and a wonderful six months it has been.  I’m serious—not one ounce of sarcasm.  I really am enjoying living in Djibouti and look forward to the next 18 months here.

This may come as a bit of a surprise to some of you.  Djibouti has a bad reputation.  When telling people I was moving here, the responses I received were usually “My condolences” or “Where?!” I myself didn’t know diddly-squat about the country until it appeared on our bid list. Researching it online didn’t provide many clues as to what to expect, and books on the subject are hard to find.  Not even Lonely Planet can tell you much—just a few pages inserted into their book on Ethiopia.  After over a year of studying the topic, what I had learned could be summed up in the following points:

1)    Djibouti is freakishly hot much of the year

2)    Djibouti’s main sources of income are the rent paid by the Americans and French for their military camps/bases here. The port is also a major player in the economy.

3)    There are thousands of non-Djiboutian military troops stationed in the main city

4)    The vast majority of Djibouti men are daily users of a drug called Khat (read High in Hell for more about this)

5)    Men who have made their wealth from piracy own fancy homes here.

6)    Most Djiboutians are extremely poor

7)    Most of Djibouti is unfit for agricultural efforts

8)    There didn’t seem to be much to see/do in Djibouti  (which turned out to be completely incorrect)

9)    Djibouti used to be part of Ethiopia, but the French rented it to use as a shipping port and never gave it back.  Now it is an independent state.

10) BUT there is the snorkeling and the whale shark migration to look forward to!

After arriving and getting my official orientation, I learned a few more things--- like that HIV and tuberculosis levels are very high, and that one of the most extreme forms of female genital mutilation continues to be inflicted on the majority of Djiboutian girls.

So now that I’ve told you all of that, I’d like to say (especially to those considering coming here) that life in Djibouti is actually quite nice if you are one of the lucky ones to have a living wage.  Djibouti is full of stunning beauty both above and below the waterline. Djibouti has good restaurants and beaches, and in the winter the weather is fantastic.  There is a decent French elementary and high school and a French-run hospital with competent staff. Unlike most capital cities in the world, Djibouti has extremely low rates of random violent crime.  Muggings and car-jackings aren’t an issue here. Neither is air pollution or getting stuck for ages in snarled traffic.

Thus, I plan to dedicate a number of my upcoming posts to the joys of Djibouti.  

Camels!

If you come to Djibouti, you will most likely see camels.  It is kind of hard to miss them  (I mean this literally; you have to be careful driving at night--I've had to slam on the brakes for random camels in the road a number of times now).  They show up in the most amusing places, so I thought I'd share some of my favorite camel pictures I've taken in Djibouti thus far.  

Camel at Lake Assal

Admittedly not camels, but a family of these wild birds hangs out my house

Camels in trucks on the highway

Random camel in front of my house--freaking out my dog

Camels hogging the road making me late for my french class

Camels parked at one of my favorite restaurants in town

#ForeignServiceProblems

Lydia making my life easier

Earlier this month Lydia, my 'mother's helper,' said she had a bad toothache and needed to seek medical attention.  She didn't trust local dentists so had decided to travel back to Ethiopia--didn't know when she'd be back.  That was the last time I heard from her.   My back-up helper is currently helping the Marines get their place ready for official inspection, so she’s been too busy to moonlight for me these days either. This means that daytime housework and childcare are once again 100% my responsibility--making goals like ‘blog regularly’ fall to the wayside.  

I thought how petty complaining about this online would sound (“My househelp is sick so I have to do everything myself and don’t have time for blogging or my French studies” #richworldproblems), but then it occurred to me that my female colleagues in Congo would totally be able to relate. There is it common knowledge that no woman on her own could possibly juggle housework, childcare and income-generating work let alone be involved in things like church ministries. It takes at least two—ideally more—women in a household to get things done, and even then there is rarely time left for educational or creative pursuits.  When women get married in Congo they quickly summon another woman (usually close family relation) to come help.  This is partly why when I visit homes in North Katanga I often scratch my head trying to figure out who actually lives there and how everyone is related.

This is why polygamy—or household structures that resemble polygamy in everything but the sex—is still common in many parts of the world. Americans who think it is all about sex simply miss the point. A woman needs other women in the household to survive.

Now I’m sure a voice in your head is noting how many well-functioning households you know that have only one (or no) woman in it.  Such examples, I tell you, are made possible by outsourcing and technology. Who grew, harvested, plucked and prepared the food and drinks you consumed today? It’s highly unlikely there weren’t women (and children—especially if you consumed chocolate or coffee) involved in much of that work. Who made the clothes you are wearing?  Probably a sweatshop full of women. You might also have the benefit of washing machines, dishwashers, licensed daycare centers, potable running water, refrigerators and reliable electricity, and homes that are so well sealed that they don't have to be swept and scrubbed daily due to all the dirt that blows in.

I could go on and on the topic, but my daughter has recently discovered the joys of opening cabinets and tossing out all of their contents and has managed to make a huge mess while I was writing all of this. She might currently be holding a fragile/dangerous object. Have I mentioned how I'm now eating humble pie for all those times I silently judged Congolese women when I saw their toddlers 'alone' in a corner left to entertain themselves?  

A Xeedho Ceremony

An aunty unwrapping the Xeedho

Last week I was honored to be invited to a Xeedho ceremony for Kanni, a Djiboutian friend of mine who was recently married. "What's a Xeedho?" you ask.  Well since it was new to me too, I'll borrow the explanation she gave me:

"The xeedho is a wooden eating bowl commonly found in all nomadic households in Djibouti. At weddings, the bowl is filled with a palatable dish (called the muq-mad - which is the beef jerky Somali style) prepared of sun-dried meat which has been fried in butter and seasoned with spices and to which dates are added in large quantities. The muq-mad, recognized to be a delicacy, is a nutritious, life giving foodstuff and is especially appreciated by the nomadic community. It lasts for a long time and thus serves as a reserve food in nomadic households, often being given as a treat to distinguished guests.

At the xeedho ceremony, the basket is given a human form. It is “clothed” in a similar attire to that of the bride, brought to the wedding by her relatives. The bowl with the dish is usually stored in a basket consisting of two conical baskets joined at right angles, covered with a piece of tanned leather or white cloth, nicely decorated with cowrie shells and tied together with leather strips and cords in a very complicated way. Under the direction of an unmarried woman "presiding" over the ceremony, every young male of the groom's family is called to try to untie the rope. The woman overseeing the ceremony watches carefully each young man's attempt to find the knot and untie the rope. If the woman judges the attempt too brusque, or unconvincing, she sentences and applies a form of "punishment" varying from reciting poetry to dancing. When the ceremony is successfully finished, people join together to feast and celebrate. The ceremony is celebrated on the seventh day of the marriage. It concludes the whole wedding ceremony. The xeedho is a gift given by the mother to her daughter and son in law and the goal is to promote social cohesion."

The xeedho ceremony I attended was a ladies-only event (with the exception of a brief appearance of the groom and a couple cameramen who came to capture the memory) and primarily done as a way for her to include her foreign friends--most of whom weren't at the wedding-- in the celebration of this new chapter of her life.  If I were to sum it up in one word I'd say "Delicious."

(Facebook friends: I've posted more photos in my Xeedho Ceremony album)

The Great North Road Trip

In my forth month of pregnancy my husband Stuart, anxious that our time in Zambia was coming to an end, insisted that we take a big road trip to explore Northern Zambia.  The adventurous week on the road produced many amazing stories and ended with an exciting finale (i.e. our flipped and totaled SUV on a bad remote road).  I should write about them in detail one day, but for now I'll share Stuart's description of the route we took.  If you ever have the chance, we suggest you try it. 

The Great North Road Trip  -written by Stuart Denyer

The Great North Road.  Its imperial title evokes classic adventure the length of Africa.  While the Cape Town to Cairo route of Cecil Rhodes’s dreams never quite came to fruition, the section of it in Zambia is the country’s equivalent of Route 66, and links all Zambia has to offer.  Heading north from Lusaka, one will see spectacular waterfalls, ancient cave drawings, a Bemba chief whose great grandfather buried Dr. Livingstone’s heart on his land, a grand colonial estate, a tropical beach resort, historic roadside monuments, and this author’s favorite spot in Zambia: the hot springs where one can sit in the effervescent warm waters beneath a magnificent African night sky.

Here is one possible itinerary taking the Great North Road and beyond to explore northeastern Zambia:

Day 1

Depart Lusaka mid-day (e.g. after work on Friday), driving to Mkushi. 

Overnight at the Forest Inn.  A simple but charming lodge with cottages in the forest, just off the main road.  

Day 2

Kundalila: An easy hike from main road

Leave early in the morning to drive northwards.  Just past the Serenje turnoff, stop at Kundalila waterfalls.   Hike down to the base of the falls and back.  (An on-site guide can point you in the right direction after you pay the nominal entrance fee.)  Consider a stop at either Nsalu or Nachikufu caves (probably not time for both) to see prehistoric rock paintings.  (You will need the on-site guide.)  Past Mpika, turn left off the Great North Road when you see the signs to Shiwa Ngandu. 

Many of Northern Zambia's rock paintings are 10,000-20,000 years old!

Famed Shiwa N’gandu estate is a magnificent English country manor house dropped into a remote part of Zambia.  Its history is thoroughly documented in Christina Lamb’s Africa House, which tells the story of Stewart Gore-Brown, a man with big dreams, and still the only white man to receive a state funeral (post independence) in Zambia.  It is a working farm run by Gore-Brown’s grandson, Charlie Harvey and his wife Jo.  

Overnight: Shiwa N’gandu estate.  The cost is high, but then this is not really for average travelers needing a bed.  It’s for history lovers. Dining with the Harveys in their beautiful dining room is akin to joining a family dinner.

The famous Shiwa N'gandu

Day 3

There is a choice of activities on the estate.  Go on a safari drive with Charlie; no, you won’t see roaming lions, but where else can you do a safari with three beloved ridgebacks straining past you to see out, with a Jack Russell on your lap?

Go for a horseback ride with Ms. Harvey up to Gore-Brown’s hilltop gravesite, or hike up to the second highest peak in Zambia, just as Dr. Livingstone did.  See their working farm, or simply sit in the library, sipping sherry, and delve in to Gore-Brown’s original photo albums, or inspect his diaries in the tower room.

In the later afternoon, depart the main house and drive down the road to the adjoining Kapishya Hotsprings, owned by Charlie Harvey’s brother, Mark. 

After an excellent family-style dinner at Kapishya, including chatting with the Welsh manager and other guests, sit in the bath-tub temperature waters of the hotsprings.

Overnight at Kapishya Hotsprings where they have a lovely pool and gardens. 

Kapishya Hotsprings

Day 4

Drive west on the dirt, but very well graded, road leaving Kapishya.  At the paved road, turn right (north) towards Kasama.  Just after the Chambeshi bridge (from which one can see on the left the remains of an older bridge that was bombed out during the Rhodesian conflict of the 1970s), make a turnoff on the left toward the old bridge to visit the Von-Lettow Vorbeck Memorial, the site of the final shots of W.W I.  (It took awhile for word of war’s end to reach the German army here.)  Arrive in Mpulungu and leave your car (as directed by the lodge where you will stay). Take a lodge skiff to the lake resort.  [Caveat lector: The Isanga Bay lodge skiff does not run after dark; we arrived just a little bit too late and were forced to overnight in Mpulungu, a slightly chaotic port town.]    

Overnight at Isanga Bay Lodge Alternate is Ndole Bay Lodge

Isanga Bay Lodge

Day 5

Kalambo waterfall

Visit Kalambo waterfall (2^nd tallest in Africa; twice the height of Victoria Falls).  The lodge can arrange a boat to get closer and from there it is a rather strenuous guided hike that takes several hours.  (Those less fit might consider just driving to the falls after leaving Lake Tanganyika). 

Enjoy swimming and sunning from the lodge’s sandy beaches on Lake Tanganyika.  (The owners promise it is free of crocodiles and bilharzias.)

Overnight at Isanga Bay Lodge

Day 6

Take lodge skiff back to Mpulungu.  Those with an extra week in their itinerary might want to take the MV Liemba from Mpulungu to Kigoma, Tanzania.  The Liemba, a German-built steamer, has been plying these waters for almost 100 years and visits Mpulungu once a week.  Sunk by the British during W.W. I and then raised from the bottom to serve as a passenger and cargo ferry, this ship (along with two other German warships) served as the inspiration for the warship featured in the story “African Queen.”  Aside from the Liemba, it’s also possible to negotiate passage on one of the cargo ships.

In Mpulungu, on a hill above the port, visit Niamkolo church, established by the London Missionary Society and the oldest church in Zambia.  (The stone church is currently missing a roof).  Near here is also the remains of the Good News, the first missionary boat, although we were unable to locate it.

From Mpulungu drive to Mbala (formerly known as Abercorn) to visit the Moto Moto museum, the best collection of Zambian African history after the Livingstone Museum.  (If you didn’t visit Kalambo Falls earlier, you could at this point drive to the falls, located on the Zambia-Tanzania border.)

Drive south to Kasama.  On the eastern outskirts of Kasama, visit Mwela Rocks.  A guide at the entrance will join you in the car to point out various ancient cave drawings, including unmistakable fertility depictions.  Sadly, some of the cave drawings were lost in the 1970s as the Chinese builders of the Tazara railway thought the rocks had more value as railway trestles.

Overnight at Thorntree Guest house, a simple but pleasant establishment run by a former British schoolteacher.  

Day 7

Chishimba Falls

Drive westwards toward Mansa.  Not far outside Kasama, stop at Chishimba Falls, a highly accessible set of three dramatic waterfalls.  At the middle waterfall, with some caution, one can walk across the rock plateau next to where the water goes over, for a classic African vista down the gorge.

[Caveat Lector: The road as far as Luwingu is paved.  Thereafter, from Luwingu to Mansa, the road deteriorates into a dreadful rocky mess.  Though he was not driving at the time, the author’s car spun out of control and rolled over.  This sort of thing can put a damper on a holiday so one may wish to avoid this road.  In fact, it may have been overly ambitious to think one could drive from Kasama to Samfya in one day, especially with a stop at Chishimba Falls]

Overnight at Bangweulu Bay Lodge (just outside Samfya), one of the few such lodges owned by an African-Zambian.  Enjoy hot tea and biscuits watching an orange moon rise over Bangweulu lake, the largest natural lake in Zambia.  The next morning, sit on the sandy beach and watch a shimmering sunrise over the lake (but you may not want to swim in the lake).

Day 8

Drive south on the excellent road that cruises past the Bangweulu wetlands (and passes over the longest bridge in Zambia).  Just before Kasanka park (known for the spectacular bat migration, at the right time of year) you will see a turnoff on the left for the Livingstone Memorial and Chief Chitambo’s Village.  Chief Chitambo’s palace is just one km from the main road and it’s well worth it to have an audience with this English-educated and forward-thinking chief.  His great-grandfather was with Dr. Livingstone when he died.   Any history aficionados will consider the 25 km dirt road (in good condition) well worth it to reach the actual monument where Livingstone’s heart and other organs are buried.  (The rest of him was taken back to Westminster Abbey in London.)  After returning to the main road, continue southwards, rejoining the Great North Road, towards Mkushi.

Overnight at the Loza Guest House, a renovated British farmhouse that provides excellent meals.  It’s a 10km dirt road off the main road.  An alternate, simpler lodging is Serenje’s Mapontela Guest House, which was started by a former Peace Corps Volunteer.  

Day 9

Drive southwards towards Lusaka. 

In Kabwe (formerly known as Broken Hill) there are two sites of interest:  Heading southwards in the middle of town, take the parallel road one block east of the Great North Road.  Outside the stately government provincial building there are two monuments: a war memorial and a memorial to the discovery of Broken Hill Man, an important archeological discovery linking apes to us.  Just past this is the well known Big Tree (represented on the 50,000 kwacha note), a well-known meeting place in Kabwe.  Just after leaving Kabwe, on the right, is the Fig Tree café, a pleasant spot to get a milkshake or lunch.  (Note: Fig Tree is closed on Sundays.)

-Stuart Denyer (former Vice-Consul who immensely enjoyed exploring Zambia). 

For more photos of the journey, visit Taylor's Facebook album

Remembering Lusaka

Remembering our baptism

It has been pointed out to me that I haven't blogged in a long time. These days I mostly share my adventures via Facebook. That said, not everyone regularly reads FB newsfeeds and not every story can be summed up with a status update or a captioned photo album. So, perhaps I'll start again and begin by telling some of my favorite stories from where I left off.

Not long after my last blog post I discovered that Stuart and I would soon become parents. I had a rather rough first trimester, but we wanted to hold-off on announcing the pregnancy, so I tried to mask my illness and continued with my church work in Lusaka. In fact, when the pastor of the main United Methodist congregation in the district said he could no longer handle his commute due to the heavy rains and bad roads, I was appointed as senior pastor at Matero with the deal that when the roads finally dried I could leave town for my commitments in Indiana and Congo.

No longer itinerating around the district allowed me to journey through all of Lent and into Easter with the same congregation. The experience had its challenges (like marching all morning on a hot day in a heavy robe in an ecumenical Palm Sunday parade while battling morning sickness), but it overall it was wonderful. Together we explored how to enrich our Lenten journey and made plans to make Easter extra special.

My husband and I have a tradition of inviting embassy friends to our house for a Maundy Thursday dinner followed by a contemplative Taize service and Passion reading. When I arrived at church (visualize a rented classroom in a poor part of town) the next morning to lead the Good Friday services, the Taize hymn “Jesus, Remember Me” was still floating through my head, so I decided to introduce it to the congregation. The result was powerful. I had never experienced Taize like this; it brought tears to my eyes as the song swelled pentecostally and morphed into what it was intended to be—an intense communal plea for Christ to not abandon us. The service and song became one; spoken reflections on the Passion and scripture readings served as short rests between its refrains. It is moments like this that make me feel incredibly blessed to work in a setting where contexts collide and enhance each other.

Our beautiful Easter morning sanctuary

Blessing a marriage on Easter Sunday

On Easter morning I arrived with decorations from home (wedding crystal, silk flowers and tablecloths) and was delighted to find our normally shabby classroom had already been transformed by the women of the church. Pink toilet paper, salvaged balloons, curtains from their homes—everything they could gather had been used. I was honored that morning to officiate the baptism of ten children, ritually bless a common-law marriage and welcome three new members. What a day! The members were still talking about it with pride and enthusiasm when interviewed by a visiting American pastor months later.

Join the Club

 When I was in middle school, my mother sat me down and explained that when people say "How are you?" (including when at church) it is a greeting not an actual question.  About the same time that I learned that it was a social faux pas to be candid about one's state of mind, I was realizing that most folks don't see the world the way I do. Luckily, the world is a big place and over the years I've found kindred spirits who don't mind my idiosyncrasies. We're a hodgepodge of mostly introverted geeks and we keep in touch via the miracle of the internet.  Interestingly, we span a large range of professions, theologies and fixations.

So what is the glue that binds us together?  I suspect it is the thing that "The Doctor's" companions have in common (yes, I'm a big Doctor Who fan)... the thing that Buckaroo Bonzai and the A-Team had... the thing that makes TED great... and it also seems to be the thing that attracts people to our approach at Friendly Planet Missiology.  

Without ‘it,’ it can be difficult to connect with someone no matter how similar they appear on paper.   So what is ‘it’?  I’m still working out a theory, so feel free to help me out. Folks that have “it” tend to

• Be Out-of-Sync with the World. You find human behavior baffling, recognize you're operating out of a different paradigm, have concluded that you aren’t crazy (at least not when it comes to that), and have come to some sort of peace with this despite still wishing things would change.    
• Appreciate Quirky Humor. There are plenty of people whose passion for social justice has made them so angry that they can’t enjoy a good joke.  I don’t mean biting sarcasm. I mean silly witty pun-filled banter.  Take the world’s problems seriously; just don’t take yourself too seriously.
• Practice Radical Grace and Hospitality. Even if someone doesn’t quite fit in (like Penny in Big Bang Theory) your first-hand knowledge of how it feels to be rejected makes you committed to including all those in need of love---from Alexandra Wallace to Congolese Warlords.
• Ask ‘How are You?’ and Want to Know.  You see people as individuals—not objects to manipulate to reach your career aspirations.  You even gladly make sacrifices for them.
• Feed your Curiosity and Challenge Assumptions.  You love learning and will risk losing what you think you know in order to explore the deeper—or better—question.  No belief is too sacred to be reexamined, and no one is ostracized for asking an honest question.  
• Take Action. You have a vision of a better way of living. Live into it and invite others to join you. 

So this is an idealized list.  I’d like to say it describes me, but it’s really a description of my favorite people. I have to frequently remind myself to not be so serious, to let down my guard, and to set aside my own thoughts long enough to stop and truly ask ‘How are you?’