The readers have spoken! E-mailed, anyway. Consider me suitably chastised for not writing about rafting the Nile. Here it is, with apologies...

I’ve never gotten the hang of re-assimilation into my home society. Home is where Yancey and Roberta drink coffee with me, where Polly and ...

Three flights and a bus trip after Herr Marlboro and his father left me at Entebbe, I disembarked at Newark Airport. The sky was overcast, t...

On my last afternoon, in Kampala, when I should be coloring comic books, I’m instead worrying about Uganda. And I’m not the only one. The ne...

It’s official. Just got back from the doctor’s office (and the dentist and the manicurist who groaned at my filthy feet) and I’m full of fu...

Last week in Kampala, students "rioted" over increases in fees at the university. Monday, the "riot" was because the Pre...

Nairobi is not a warm and fuzzy destination. But I could swear it had improved. People seemed less paranoid. No one warned me about the good...

Nairobi’s Parkside Hotel was shabbier than I remembered it being. And the toilet didn’t work. Plus I was sick. First it was a cold. Then i...

I’d been to Arusha before. Twice. It’s fine, but I didn’t really need to go back. But I also didn’t need to arrive in one of the worst parts...

“I am very happy with you,” declared Geoffrey, my regular waiter at Dar Es Salaam’s Chef’s Pride. I stared at him, perplexed. Had I over-tip...