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Uganda is a traveller’s paradise, unspoilt by travellers. Four days in, I’m quite charmed with the place. When it comes to travelling in the developed world, there seems to be a certain virtue to getting off the beaten track.

In my experience, a large tourism industry turns tourists into a commodity. No one likes to be a commodity. As travellers, we want to feel special, unique, as emissaries, brave explorers who have gone beyond the borders of our own comfortable homelands. (Are we these things? At best, perhaps. More often, we’re carousing voyeurs, in search of “otherness,” poverty, the fantastic and exotic.)

Based on my anecdotal experience, less touristed places (in the developing world) tend to be more pleasant places to travel, in terms of opportunities to make genuine connections and freedom from hassle. Curious if the data on tourist visitation bears this out, I put together a simple chart, and calculated the number of annual tourist visits per thousand residents:

Country Name	2013 Visits	2010 Population	Annual Visits Per Thousand   Residents	2013 Visits as % of Peak Visitation
Argentina	5,571,000	40,412,000	138	98%
Bhutan	116,000	726,000	160	100%
Cambodia	4,210,000	14,139,000	298	100%
Chile	3,576,000	17,113,688	209	100%
China	55,686,000	1,338,300,000	42	96%
Costa Rica	2,428,000	4,659,000	521	100%
Egypt	9,174,000	81,121,000	113	65%
India	6,968,000	1,224,615,000	6	100%
Kenya	1,434,000	40,513,000	35	82%
Mexico	24,151,000	113,423,000	213	100%
Mozambique	1,886,000	23,390,000	81	89%
Namibia	1,176,000	2,283,000	515	100%
Nepal	798,000	29,959,000	27	99%
Peru	3,164,000	29,076,000	109	100%
South Africa	9,537,000	49,991,000	191	99%
Tanzania	1,063,000	44,841,000	24	100%
Thailand	26,547,000	69,122,000	384	100%
Uganda	1,206,000	33,424,000	36	100%
Vietnam	7,572,000	86,928,000	87	100%
Zimbabwe	1,833,000	12,571,000	146	73%

I report 2013 visitation statistics, but have also included a column (2013 Visits as % of Peak Visitation) to indicate if the country’s tourist industry is experiencing a contraction. Egypt, for example, saw 14m visitors in 2010, but only 9m visitors in 2013.

India, with six visits per thousand people per year, happens to be my very favourite of countries I’ve visited, in terms of being a tourist. The Indians I met were as fascinated with me as I was with them. Hassle was non-existent, and every Indian I met was another opportunity for a genuine connection, person-to-person, and cultural.

Egypt’s score of 113 seems reasonable, until you consider that a few years ago Egypt received 14m visitors, and lately is receiving 5m fewer annual visitors than at its peak (one Egyptian operator I spoke with blamed President Obama and the Israel-loving western media for this turn of events, but I suspect it may be more related to Egypt’s recent revolution which, from the appearance of things in Cairgo, is not yet ancient history). In other words, competition in Egypt is fierce, the sector having been reduced by 33%, meaning that only the fierce of its tourist touts have survived the downturn.

Thailand, with its 26m visitors to its country of 69m residents (a score of almost 400), ranks high in my memory in terms of hassle, especially on the typical backpacker circuit.

With a mere 36 visits (per thousand residents, per year), Uganda ranks quite nicely on my simplistic ranking. Being here on the ground, the effect is obvious: Ugandans, from my experience here, take an interest in their visitors.

My tourist density proxy for pleasantness / hassle of being a tourist is obviously overly simplistic. Mexico ranks poorly (213 visitors per thousand residents per year), but I’d wager that 95% of those visits are limited to its resort towns and beaches. The interior of Mexico, I’d wager, is probably closer to 10 visits–a number much closer to my delightful experience of travelling through interior Mexico.

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In Egypt, the first and most useful word of Arabic I learned was no (la). From the moment I hit the ground to the moment I departed, I was hounded by hungry touts, operators, guides, and beggars. Without fail, every time I was greeted by an Egyptian, it was a prelude to a hard sell, invariably on something I had no interest in). I learned quickly (though, perhaps, not quickly enough) to smile, say no thank you, and walk resolutely away any time when approached. I managed a few good conversations with Egyptians, but only those who I approached myself.

In Uganda, while en route to the South African-run compound where I was intending to sign up for a few days of kayaking on the Nile, I was greeted by several locals. Though initially quite leery, I hazarded a “yes” to their invitation to talk. As a result, to my complete delight, I had an opportunity to get to spend a couple days hanging out with really lovely and fascinating Ugandans, saved a bundle on my kayaking adventure, and got to spend my money with locals, instead of expats.

I am by nature, trusting, gullible, naïve. In Egypt, this made me an easy target. The gullible and naïve tourist in Egypt learns quick to be cynical, or gets eaten alive. I always mentally budget in some extra money the first few days I’m in a new country as I readjust to what things actually cost. Some of its a function of a culture of bargaining (without knowing the market value of a good or service, I find it hard to bargain effectively), and some of it is special msungu pricing (unlike in Sweden, no one here in East Africa mistakes me for anything other than a tourist from a rich, Western country).

In any case–I’m quite charmed with Uganda, and glad to be here.

Kenya’s most famous people are its Masai tribe–an ancient tribe of warriors. Traditional tribal life all throughout the world is disappearing. Encountering the Masai en route to and around Kenya’s Masai Mara wildlife refuge (named for the Masai people of the region, and the Mara River), I expected to encounter degraded tribal existence, a la America’s Indian Reservations.

I was surprised and delighted to find something better than expectations. The Masai still ply their existence by herding goats and cattle upon the savannah, walking on foot from place to place. They wear their colorful traditional dress, and the women still shave their heads. Schools have proliferated, but Christianity has failed to gain converts (the Masai have no religion whatsoever). They live simply, but are not impoverished. Some households may own and herd upwards of 200 cattle, worth some 30,000 Kenyan Shillings (~$300 USD) each at the nearby market. Yet, despite this apparent wealth, the Masai still live much as they ever did. I took an early morning run through the area outside the wildlife preserver, and observed the Masai in the area to be living in mud houses with sod roofs, with few material possessions. Their villages were remarkably clean, without the usual proliferation of trash and litter that one expects of poor rural villages. They were friendly, and the children a bit curious at the strange white man running along their roads.  Which isn’t to say that all Masai have rejected everything modern. Some live in cinder-block houses with (limited) electricity, and a few have motorbikes, or Western style jackets. Nevertheless, the overwhelming impression is that the Masai see no need of any culture other than their own, which is alive and well.

That said, one facet of Masai culture is changing: their communal grazing lands having been grazed down to nothing, the Masai are building fences.

Judgement is swift and punishment severe in Kenya. Once nick-named Nairobery, Nairobi is becoming a safer city. Wanjau, our safari guide, remarks that “now, we are able to count our money, use our mobiles in in the street.” How has this transformation been accomplished? President Uhuru Kenyetta (who has been tried in the Hague court for murders after the disputed 2007 election) has ordered Kenya’s police to shoot armed robbers on sight. (Shoot first, ask questions later.)

Kenya takes the protection of its wildlife quite seriously. We observed this lesson first hand when denied entry to the Masai Mara for our sunrise game drive. Poachers had come over the border from Tanzania overnight, and the Kenyan Wildlife Service was conducting a military operation to capture the poachers. As the morning progressed, our guide received news over his local frequency CB radio (used by safari guides to help coordinate when certain wildlife–lions, say, are discovered) that two of the poachers had been shot dead, and seven more were in custody. The goal seems to be to send a strong message, and it appears this tactic is succeeding.

The savannah is a striking and wonderful landscape. For me, it was love at first sight. The Masai Mara extends seemingly to the ends of the eawrth in its gently rolling grasslands. It consists of great plains of tall savannah grasses. At the end of the rainy season, before the arrival of the wildebeest, the gently waving grasses stand as tall as a man. These rolling hills are punctuated here and there by trees–the iconic acacia and boabab trees–each tree with an acre of land by itself.

I love the desert for the fact that each thing in it has space, allowing for the appreciation of its individual constituents. On the savannah, the space between things is so great that the eye is immediately drawn to each individual, exulted thing in it. These are often acacia, boabab, or cadamia trees. But perhaps almost as often, the object that draws the eye is a family of elephants, grazing upon the plain, or a pair of giraffes, silhouetted against the skyline. These immense creatures fit perfectly in the savannah, and neither would make sense without the other.

Seeing the savannah makes me long to have seen North America’s great plains when grazed by herds of millions of migrating buffalo (North America’s version of the wildebeest).

If you go on safari and have a good driver cum guide, you’ll have a good safari. If you do not have a good driver, its unlikely you’ll have a good safari. I was lucky to have an excellent driver (Wanjau). (If you yourself go on safari, I have Wanjau’s contact information, and would highly recommend any safari he drives.)

I was also lucky to have wonderful companions. Together for the game drives, and sharing our meals together, having great companions allowed for having a better experience by virtue of it being shared, experienced together, rehashed and experienced from others perspectives over our evening meals. Jessica and Sunshine, from southern California, are wonderful, interesting people. It was also a treat to get to share the safari experience with other Americans, who share a common experience of America’s national parks, of our American mountains and wildernesses. Sarang and Avinash are Indian soldiers, on leave from their UN post in South Sudan. The cross-cultural dialog was insightful and fun. It was sobering to hear their stories of their peacekeeping mission in South Sudan, of the thousands of Sudanese murdered along ethnic lines (and of the peacekeeping force’s failure to act, constrained by bureaucracy as an atrocity unfolded). (We were also joined for part of the safari by a Greek man and his Kenyan escort from Nairobi. Although she was lively and very pleasant, the situation was a bit odd and unsettling for me.)

I must comment in closing on the remarkable extend and effectiveness of conservation efforts in Kenya.  The Masai Mara is well conserved, and much of the western corner of the country is held by private conservancies. The animal populations seems very healthy and abundant, the Mara was unspoilt with development. It makes me very glad that such places still exist in the world, and will continue to exist.

I can think of no better way to begin the year than with good friends in a beautiful place. 2014 began with playing in snow in Montana with Quadlings.

In February I went ice climbing for the second time. Abram, Anne, and co. set up an awesome weekend of climbing in Ouray.

The winter and spring allowed for no shortage of sliding on snow. I was lucky enough to get 49 days last season, including a tremendously fun trip to Aspen (Snowmass) in February with Scott, Chris, Sagar & Co, and a March ski trip to Jackson Hole with Sagar and Jon:

Other highlights of the season include the New Belgium scavenger hunt at Loveland with Abram, Sagar, and Jon:

Beach days at A Basin (with mono ski!):

And some good backcountry corn harvesting on Gray’s and Torey’s peak:

In April my Dad ran the Boston Marathon (which I was able to attend and cheer at), and he retired in May.

My sister turned 40 the day after Christmas, which I was able to celebrate with her, her awesome husband Tory, four kids, my parents, brother, and Tory’s family.

I baked a lot of pizza and bread (and finally feel that I have my pizza dough down).

In May we took a trip to Indian Creek some climbing and to celebrate Sagar’s birthday.

In June I went to the Telluride Bluegrass Festival with TJ and Candice.

I celebrated the 4th of July with Griffin, Ali, Todd, Aaron, Joe, Emily and a host of other good folks in Taos. Festivities included downhill mountain biking and paddling through the Lower Taos Box in the Rio Grande.

In July, Sagar, Candice and I went into the Indian Peaks wilderness to train for Rainier. We camped in beautiful Moose Basin, and climbed Skywalker Couloir.

Our training paid off, and Sagar, Candice and I successfully climbed Mount Rainier via the Emmons Winthrop route a few weeks later.

Jon taught me the rudiments of mountain biking this summer. Fall highlights include hiking down Mount Elbert with Jon, and a Moab mountain biking trip with Joe, Emily, Cole, Griffin, Emily, Jon, and crew.

I ran the Rim Rock Marathon in November, finishing 7th in a field of ~100 runners.

Then, it was off to Mexico for an extended road trip. Highlights include spending Thanksgiving with Bri and Curtis in San Cristobal de las Casas, and the friends we made along the way.

Last but not least, I studied for and took the GMAT, and applied to grad schools. I’ve applied to eight different data science and data analytics programs.

Wrapped up the year by once again returning to Bozeman. I am blessed to have once again welcomed the New Year a dozen Quadlings and dear friends.

These were but the highlights of a very fun, fulfilling and rewarding year. I’m grateful for the experiences, the fun, and the good friendships that filled 2014. Looking forward to carrying on the fun in 2015!

I ran the Rim Rock Marathon today in three hours and thirty minutes. That’s a respectable time, though hardly a course record. But it’s important because it marks a transition in me from someone who has skated by in life on natural talent to someone who sets goals, works hard, and achieves them.

I’ve been gifted in life with an abundance with the sort of intelligence that makes it easy to excel in academic environments. But, to my chagrin, I have most often used my intelligence to shirk rather than excel. In high school, it was a point of pride to earn “A”s on exams while completing none of the homework. I’m living proof that it’s possible to ace tests without ever actually learning the material. I’m good at taking tests; I always have been. High marks aside, my math skills today are notably weak. Not because I’m incapable of it, but because I’ve never worked at being good at math. And math is but one example.

College was much the same. It was less a point of pride to be a Dean’s List slacker, but I nevertheless persisted in the mode of doing the bare minimum required to outperform the majority of my peers (as though the point of college was to earn relatively high marks, rather than to learn). In retrospect, I’m ashamed of the opportunities I’ve had that I’ve squandered on being mediocre. Naturally talented, but lazy.

Well, the joke’s on me. It turns out, in the real world, being naturally talented can only take you so far. Being talented and saying yes to opportunities as they arise can take you places–good places even. But if there’s something you truly want in life, nobody is going to just hand it to you. I’m learning that you have to work for it.

Which brings me back to marathons. The first marathon I attempted, I didn’t train and managed only half of. I should mention that I’m a naturally talented runner. I’ve got great genes. My dad has qualified for the Boston Marathon five times, and run it twice. My brother similarly a strong runner. Two years ago, I ran the Colorado Marathon. I trained halfheartedly, bonked, and crawled across the finish line in a measure of time unbefitting a capable 26-year-old male athlete.

What makes a marathon a great accomplishment is that you can’t skate by in a marathon on natural ability or good genes. Running a marathon requires work, commitment, and training. Which is why today’s marathon is important to me.

I’ve had enough of just skating by in life. I am remaking myself into someone who works hard for the things I want. Someone who leverages natural ability with a greater measure of hard work. Someone who makes the most of everyone opportunity given, and who creates his own opportunities. I am learning to be a better version of myself.

Today is symbolic of that. And I hope that today is the first and least of many accomplishments to come gained by hard work and dedication. My accomplishment today is a mild one, shared with the half-million other Americans who run a marathon every year (many of whom run much faster). But today I add a new item to the short list of things in life I’ve done that I’m proud of. Not for the accomplishment of running 26 miles, but for the work and training I put in before hand. This is the new person I will become.