once I'm back in the US

"... once I'm back in the US, I'm pretty limited to other people in the US, the news, and surfing the Internet, there just isn't the same quality or amount of unfiltered information I can get from being here and seeing the mobile network billboards, the electronics stores, cell phones, the SIM cards, the laptops, the internet cafes, the price tag for all of these things, and the ways in which that all fits and doesn't fit together with the way people live day to day and the opportunities they have."

online, but offline

"I constantly find myself ultimately facing the task of accomplishing what ideally everyone SAYS they want to move to "online" aka IDI's training courses, and having along the way to concurrently create a completely substitutable and parallel solution for doing it all "offline" aka distributing all of the course materials with website screenshots in hard copy form and specifying deadlines for online submission of periodic assignments OR distributing CDs or flash drives with an offline version of the training course website and specifying deadlines for syncing up via online submission of assignments and feedback OR distributing smartphones or laptops with individual dedicated connectivity (USB modems) for directly accessing the training course website... and in the end, there's no underestimating the technology education a student is inherently getting if they opt for the distance learning online course format, even if those formats are technically offline."

from Boston to Kampala

Life in Kampala, Uganda aka Deep in the Sahara, listening to "Feelings"

Perhaps it’s a sign of ambivalence about Development that one periodically wants to flee the most developed places and go to the least developed place on earth.

Of course, the forces of globalization are not stopped that easily. The Tuareg guide wears Nike sneakers. Toyota 4WD Land Cruisers can bring even the least mobile tourists to see the rock art. And one guide has brought along a tape of Western pop music played over and over again at camp every night, including the official Worst Pop Song of all time mentioned in the title.

-William Easterly