Mr. Lacy Archive

Leaving Rwanda

Well, it’s that time again. I’ve been wearing the same dusty jeans for much of the last two weeks, I’m sick of every single item on the room service menu, the mini-bar is crying for mercy, weird insect bites are covering my limbs and I sorely miss US television (THANKS FOR NOTHING NON-INTERNATIONAL HULU!) Also, my head is so packed with stuff I need to find the time to sit and write that I live in a near-constant panic it will all pour out of my ear one night during my sleep.

Yes, it’s time for me to head back to San Francisco for a few weeks, and as I write this I’m  24 hours into the trip home with about six more to go. I smell absolutely horrible, for the record. Mr. Lacy is asleep on my shoulder. I’m on my second glass of wine and watching “Last Chance Harvey” which is one of the more depressing movies I’ve seen on a plane, and yet, reminds me how petty our worries typically are as Americans.

Rwanda has been amazing. It’s my second trip here this year, and it was somehow more challenging and inspiring than the first. And that’s one of the more unoriginal statements I’ve ever uttered. If I had to break it down into percentages, the impact of Rwanda is 75% the people of the country, 10% the gorgeous setting, 10% the impressive job the government has done turning aid into sustainable economic development and 5% watching some of the most successful and powerful people from the West take in that other 95% and be immeasurably affected by it.

In the last two weeks my experiences have vacillated between hanging out with wealthy, powerful or well-known Americans doing work in the country and some of the poorest Rwandans just getting by. And guess what? Everyone would grant that the Rwandans display the most hope and resilience of the two groups. The Americans I know who have spent any time in the tiny, landlocked country are humbled by the Rwandan experience and spirit and can't wait to go back. There’s something magical about the country that brings together people in ways that just wouldn’t happen elsewhere.

Here’s an example: At a dinner party last week in the volcano park where the endangered silverback gorillas roam, we were sitting near Jungle Jack Hanna—my all-time favorite David Letterman guest—and, believe it or not, the decedents of the Von Trapp family who sang several songs from "The Sound of Music"-- one of my favorite movies of all time. But the spotlight belonged to a guy named Frederick, a Rwandan who was left to die when he refused to kill Tutsis back in a time of post-genocide uprisings and scattered violence in 1998. Guerrilla fighters cut off his hands and left him tied to a tree. By a fluke, the ropes were tied so tight, it worked like a tourniquet saving three-quarters of his arms and his life. He now works with orphaned children in Rwanda. He also plays the guitar and paints with no hands. This is the Rwandan spirit: It doesn’t want special favors or handouts. They just want a chance to compete and rebuild their country.

Here’s the wackiest part of that aforementioned dinner: We didn’t know any of these people before it began. We just happened to be at the same hotel, and Hanna invited us to join the group when we exchanged pleasantries at the bar. Somehow, that’s just what happens in Rwanda.

Below are some pictures of my trip and check out my TechCrunch posts about it here. (Working on another one as we speak, jet lag permitting.) I’m saving the bulk for my book though, sorry!

 

So Other Than That Ms. Lacy, How'd You Enjoy Your Breakfast?

People keep telling me to "travel safe." For the record this is the only time I've been TERRIFIED FOR MY LIFE during my whirlwind of travel for my new book on global entrepreneurs. I'm going to let this video speak for itself. Mostly.

First, know a few things:

1. This was not staged, and clearly Geoff can read the future.

2. See how fast he left? The pictures don't show it, but that's how fast he came in. I happened to be reviewing the first part of this video on the FlipCam, and I heard Geoff yell, "HE'S BACK!" and looked up to a big snout a few meters away and closing on me. I froze, looking around for the staff to do something. But he had waited for the ENTIRE wait staff to go downstairs. Wiley.

3. In ten years of being together, Geoff says he has NEVER heard me scream as loud as I did this morning. I really thought I was about to get rabies or lose an arm.

4. Afterwards, my driver came up and said, "Come and look at who's on the roof eating a croissant!" Yeah, that'd be mine. 

5. Our cat, Mr. Vinnie, is on a diet. Our other cat, Boo, is not. So whenever he gets a chance Vinnie charges in the room where we keep her food and eats as much of it, as fast as he can, terrifying Boo in the process. I used to tell her to toughen up. Now I know how she feels. Sorry, Boo. 

6. He sat on the roof and ate all of the pastries he stole, then came down and his kids ran up. He didn't even save them any! They were like "Hey Dad, where's the food?" He's not even a good dad! 

7. Regardless of this video, I *highly* recommend the Akagera Game Lodge in Rwanda. The staff was amazing, and the scenery was beautiful.

EXPOSED!!! Local News Fights Back

We haven't done an episode of Morning Don't for while. We've actually filmed several but no one (ahem, me) has had the time to produce them. So it's with much excitement I bring you the long-awaited episode 20. I've written a lot of harsh things about traditional media lately. But clearly, one local news channel has found a way to fight Web 2.0 and Google. Watch and learn.

Morning Don't Ep. 20 from sarah lacy on Vimeo.

"I'm Sorry, Your Fingers Are Too Sleepy to Finish this Post..."

I’m sitting on the oldest plane ever somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. I think the Wright Brothers might have carved their name in the bathroom, before they moved on to a newer, more commercial model. I should be nodding off soon: It’s a sure sign the Ambian is kicking in when I can’t type. You’ll probably read this once I’ve edited it in the morning, but right now it looks a bit lishksjent thiewbbs. I’m also sitting in the very back of coach with a longshoreman in front of me who is reclined so far back in his seat, I might as well make his flight a little nicer by massaging his temples. He actually asked the flight attendant why it wouldn't recline more. Um, those would be MY LEGS.

I’m coming back from two weeks in Tel Aviv, as you know if you've been following me on Twitter or TechCrunch. I’m exhausted, sad, happy, and inspired because I can see  parts of the book coming together already. But mostly I just can’t wait to see my husband. (see his cuteness, below)

Since I’m getting Ambian-heavy-typing-fingers, I started watching the movie “Marley & Me,” thinking it would help the pill, wine and a noise reduction headset push me into a sleepy world where I can dream of flying first class. Instead, I’ve found myself actually watching it. Perhaps, as a cat person, I’m missing the point, but it seems to be a movie about a reporter who is so tethered by family life, he can never follow his dreams. He watches sadly as his buddy travels all over the world writing about drug cartels, which is sort of like traveling all over the world and writing about entrepreneurs.

It’s pretty hard to watch this and not miss my husband even more. There are very few men who would be cool with me flying off for weeks on end, coming home exhausted and emotionally-spent with even more work to do.

This book is really hard to do on a ton of levels. But I can handle the flights, the jet lag, the exhaustion, the mindless hours organizing logistics, and the frustration that comes with only knowing five words in someone’s language when you’re trying to learn his or her deepest hopes, secrets and fears. I can handle it all because I also get the joy and excitement when it comes together. But Mr. Lacy only gets an exhausted wife he sees more on Skype than in real life. Either he secretly hates me or he’s a pretty amazing guy.