Team Smallbean consisted of Carrie – a librarian from Minnesota, Kavitha – a lawyer from Boston, Sean, and myself. I had the pleasure of  joining the crew for training in three sites: Elangata Waus in Masailand… the Kibera slum in Nairobi… and the border town of Busia near Uganda… before zipping back to the states for a family wedding.

The entire experience was a blast, but in the spirit of limited attention spans, here are the highlights, both dairy and otherwise:

• Masailand was GORGEOUS. Bright colors, awesome landscape, and some of the nicest people ever. It’s the safari you (okay, maybe just naive me) think of when you hear the word Kenya:

• The largest slum in Nairobi, and the second largest urban slum in Africa, Kibera was quite densely packed (fun fact: wiki says kibera accounts for <1% of nairobi’s total area but holds >25% of its population. dayummmm.).

• Busia was amazingly lush and green…a nice change of scenery from the dry plains of Masailand and the concrete jungle of Nairobi. Our very gracious hosts really showed us the sights by taking us out to a club, introducing us to the deliciousness that is fermented milk, and smuggling us into Uganda. Busia is a bordertown so its residents are used to crossing in&outta the UG on a daily basis…however, for us TSA-friendly American’s, it felt totally badass.

• While Team Smallbean ventured off to beach paradise Lamu, I had a day-ish in Nairobi before my flight back to the states. Hanging out with friends and venturing out to Lake Nakuru, it was a fun, relaxing way finish up the trip.

Lake Nakuru is located in Central Kenya and has copious amounts of algae that consequently attracts copious numbers of flamingos. It was quite a (smelly) sight.

• At the Naivasha toll booth, as in many other countries, there are vendors coming up to cars to sell various goods…while I’ve seen an eclectic assortment of merch sold in such situations around the world, this was the first time I’d ever seen JUGS of yogurt being offered as the sole product. Turns out, there was a yogurt factory down the street that thought this would be a great advertising campaign… ingenious!?! yes. I thought so too.

 Hugh Cholmondeley, 3rd Baron Delamere, 1st Dairy King of Kenya

Yeah, no.

Getting to Lander meant a 6 hour drive from Denali –> Anchorage, followed by a 8 hour red-eye Anchorage –> Atlanta, then a 5 hour flight Atlanta –> Denver, which should have been followed by an 6 hour drive from Denver –> Lander…but due to an um, trip planning faux pax, alterations were in order.

How, you ask, could this travel itinerary have gotten any crazier????

“Human error.”

After discovering the day of that, oops, Elizabeth and I had not booked our flights to arrive in Denver on the same day, I thought my trip was a goner. But thanks to some ingenious coordination on the part of Elizabeth’s family (and some speedy ticket buying by mi madre)… I tagged on one more flight and one more six hour roadtrip, and voila – I was good to go.

Living out all my elementary school Oregon Trail fantasies, I spent ten days experiencing the Wild, Wild West (sans dysentery):

Taking many a morning hike, I had the opportunity to appreciate all of Wyoming’s scenic views… however, attempting to exercise at 1 mile above sea level, said views (literally) left me breathless.

I had the honor of partaking in Lander’s biggest celebration: the Fourth of July. Saw fireworksXmillion. Watched an elaborate parade involving cowboys, Native Americans, wagons, and john deer tractors… Lander struck the perfect balance between America then&now.

Went camping with Elizabeth&fam to Yellowstone + Tetons & saw Old Faithful do its thangg. Pictured here, bonding with nature via yogurt.

Interacted with wildlife. Rode a jackalope; played with Gypsy (above); ate a bison (…or at least whatever parts comprise a “bison dog”).

Thank you Elizabeth + Jarrard Family for an awesome, awesome time.

And now… I”m off again! (yes, this is exactly the kind of abrupt ending you should avoid…but I’m going to be late for my flight). Time for Epic Journey, Part III: Kenya.

Admittedly nervous about leaving my Weetabix at home, I found myself pleasantly surprised (perhaps even, impressed) at HAL’s excellent breakfast spread. Prune juice, stewed prunes, all bran, etc. I had ample energy to fuel my “active adult” lifestyle. And good thing. With such adrenaline-pumping cruise events as 60′s trivia night, Veteran’s cocktail hour, and  Bingo (lots and lots of Bingo), it was clearly a bustlin’ week.

My all time favorite – “The Art of Napkin Folding’ with Party Planner Candi. I was shocked to discover that such a job existed…someone was willing to pay this lady to craft all day? every day? um, JEALOUS.

Alaska itself was gorgeous. Ridiculously gorgeous. Crossing the Canadian border for the second time in one month (…from opposite ends of the Can-Am border AND for less than 2 days each time. Not suspicious at all, Border Patrol), we cruised outta Vancouver and slowly made our way towards Seward, Alaska.

Alaska: by land, by sea, by rail.

Forget about booze cruise, I had the pleasure of being carded at the ship gym. Apparently you need to be “at least 16, hun” to use the machines. Rather than spilling my secret to everlasting youth, I instead chose to take my workout to the “Teen Lounge” (ages 13-17 only, please).

Us tweenz doin’ some Shaun T. Insanity while sailing the Kenai Fjords.

Though tempted by Alaska’s incredible natural beauty, I don’t think I’ll be moving up to the Last Frontier any time soon. With a gallon of milk coming in at a shocking 14$/gallon, AK’s dairy is clearly the food of the gods.

Same same but different?

But what to do? Gotta shell out that cash-money. After all, I didn’t want to say no to the most important question of them all…

To the Vedak Family, the roadtrip is an eXtreme sport. You know, kinda like BASE jumping.  A test of endurance, dedication, drive, and stamina, those with faint hearts (or small bladders) need not apply.

In merely three days, we engaged in a somewhat abridged homage to our friendly northern neighbors, Canada, followed by an overnight journey to the heart of the Midwest, Iowa. Our vessel, the trusty Honda Odyssey, was packed full with spicy peanuts and pirated Bollywood DVD’s. Our hearts, filled with courage. Our cameras, charged.

Our itinerary, went as follows:

IL…Ann Arbor, Michigan…London, Canada (Food Detour #1)…Niagara, Canada…

— Paused for almost 24 hours. (quickly) appreciated natural splendor.  —

…  Toronto, Canada (Food Detour #2)…Bettendorf, Iowa…IL

The food detours mentioned above added (at least) 5 hours to this adventure, but were deemed “absolutely necessary” by the parentals. Yes. You guessed it. FOOD is Vedak Family takes so serious #3. Like a troupe of traveling restaurant critics, we indulged our jaded American tastebuds with the best that Canada had to offer. Like any Indians, we let it be known when they were not up to par…ah, awkward moments.

So while we did send back that guacamole at Taco Tequila Taquiera (too salty, amigo)….and demanded nothing less than a full refund for that horrid chilli chicken at Wang’s (we came all the way from America for THIS?!)… at least the yogurt did not disappoint.

Catering to an array of key demographics, Yoplait dominated the market by making sure Canadians young and old were  hip&happenin’ yogurt fans (read: addicts) FOR LIFE.

*Pictured above: Minigo, Yop, and Source. not pictured, and sadly, not sampled: Yoplait’s Asana yogurt for hip&happenin’ g-mas.

Excellent marketing, eh?

Alas, for those who’ve dined with me yet miraculously missed out on this sacred ritual, I assure you, lovers&friends, there is nothing to fear. I can only be socially acceptable for so long.

Just ask my (extremely) understanding roomies.

Exhibit A The standard, university-issued microfridge and contents, as advertised:

Exhibit B The standard, university-issued microfridge and contents, as experienced by the occupants of 17B:

Yes, future healthcare professionals, I hope you’re taking notes. These are the hallmarks of addiction.

But how could one NOT be addicted? After all, yogurt has that little extra flair that makes it truly shine amongst its supermarket sistahs. That extra pizzaz, if I may, that makes it THE dairy daddy.

More importantly, however, yogurt is the olive branch of foodie friendship throughout the world.

Wait. Wh-what? Yogurt can lead to world peace?!? Correct.

Infused with the patriotism, culture, and customs of a nation, there’s more to this dairy deliciousness than meets the eye…  Let’s take a look at the evidence, courtesy of some recent jet-setting (and my parents’ wallet).

• Careful systematic research conducted between ‘field visits’ to Angkor What? (and a few to Angkor Wat)  revealed that Cambodia was a big fan of such tropical tastes as coconut and red bean+corn.
• 24/7, India always kept my body at a happy homeostasis. Sweet tooth rearing its ugly head?  mishti dahi, please. Feel the blood pressure dropping? Amp up that sodium with some chaach.
• Of course, my post-MCAT Mexican siesta was the real baile in mi boca with such fiesta-worthy flavors as papaya, apple, and tamarind.
• And most recently, simple “skyriousity” lead me to discover the bounties of Iceland. FYI: Skyr is this thick, strained, cultured dairy product. Think Greek yogurt-ish.

So as I head up north tomorrow (to, alas, do more than) check out Canada’s hip&happenin’ yogurt scene, I have but one message for the world:

However, what we writing tutors are paid not to tell you, is that “outlining” also serves as an excellent method for “productive procrastination” — the time-wasting technique of choice for all overachieving souls. Consequently, this little endeavor has been in the works for, well, a year; a year during which I have managed to accomplish pretty much EVERYTHING apart from starting this blog. Case in point:

• August 2009: Took the MCATs. Came out (mostly) unscathed.
• September 2009: Started my purely “liberal arts” year of edumacation. Also known as, a year in the life of a not-science major… also known as, the best year ever.
• October 2009: Ran the Nike Women’s Marathon 26.2 miles that my body continues to hate me for enduring (adiós knees)…but still, totally worth it. Thanks for pushing me through that one, Elizabeth .
• November 2009: 400ish miles of training + post marathon ouch, lead to a brief period of disenchantment with running. Discovered the world of hot yoga. Decided that taking a bus at 5:15 am every morning was a minor sacrifice for Prana bliss…and consequently walked the tenuous line between true love and addiction.
• January 2010: Entered NYT “Win a Trip” Contest. Friended Nicholas D. Kristof. Failed to win a trip. Defriended Nicholas D. Kristof.
• February 2010: Taste trippin’ with Miracle Fruit. Two hours of altered tastebuds that allowed me to discover a new level of citrus-love. Word to the wise: abstain from taking shots of balsamic vinegar… seems like a harmless idea at the time, but no. just no.
• March 2010: Spring Breakjavik in Reykjavik, Iceland. Ten days during which I played an integral role in Nordic IR by representing any and all “diversity” in Bjork’s otherwise blonde, blue-eyed ‘hood. Learned the marketing power of the phrase “per capita,” especially when used in reference to a nation encompassing 1/60^th the population of NYC. Sampled literally every brand of Skyr and Yogür in said nation. Left a path of geothermal destruction in my wake.
• April 2010: Was within 10 feet of brain crush #1, Atul Gawande. Hoped for a natural osmotic flow of wit, talent, and genius from his area of high concentration to my area of low concentration…should be done any day now.
  • Turned 21 and decided to commemorate with a week of celebrations. Despite best intentions, failed to keep it classy (countless apologies to the kind bouncers of Clink). Will soon pay a quarter million to officially learn about the intricacies of birthweek-induced bodily harm in med school, but present, novice assessment indicates questionable prognosis. This will not be an annual event.
• May 2010: Attended TedX Cambridge with foodies far wiser than myself. Sampled a chocolate covered cricket or two. salty.
  • Signed up for skydiving and signed away my life via many a dotted line. Jumped out of a plane at 10,000 feet and survived. Decided, that extended lifespan = no more excuses. Birthed this blog.

And here I stand today, dairy diary in (virtual) hand…and no outline in sight. Get excited. Controlled chaos to follow.