The Diplomat Spring 2012 Vol.2

DeltaPhiEpsilon Issue2,April2012

Delta Phi Epsilon

Epsilon Chapter

Spring 2012 Th

e Dip

lomat

Alumni

India 6 Senegal 3 Uganda 9

Foreign Affairs

France’s Elections 5 Thai Politics 8

Travel

DPhiE Goes To Baja! 2 How to Appreciate 11

A Letter From The Editor

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Hello dear readers! This issue comes at the start of the last month of school. For some, it can’t pass soon enough. For others (myself included), it’s far too short. This month is busy, with the active event, pledge event, alumni luncheon and banquet, as well as a number of informal plans like celebrating Holi, and Dance Marathon! I fully intend on being everywhere at once so I can appreciate it all.

This issue is full of alumni spotlights, which should give you all a glimpseinto what kind of lives and what kind of work you can expect post graduation (at least for the short term) should you dream big and

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work hard. It’s always refreshing to hear from our older brothers and sisters, as they’ve gone through everything we’re going through. It also reminds us to maintain strong bonds, not only for the healthy benefits of friendship but also for brain-picking later down the road. Your friends are your best resources, as I’m constantly reminded while networking for jobs.

On the topic of friendship, you’ll find an article on an impromptu trip to Mexico that some members planned for spring break, where they spent quality time together while exploring a foreign country. And you’ll learn from one of our own

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well-seasoned travelers how to remember every moment of your time abroad. I suppose the theme of this issue is memories, making them and storing them. So read on my brothers and sisters, and think about what you’d like to remember further down the road.

~ Christina Kaba ~

A trip to Napa, organized by our own Natalie Hurley


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As we drove at night down an unlit dirt road well outside of town following a police past abandoned warehouses to our condo whose name we weren’t sure of, with no idea where we were, no cell phone reception and no way to contact the other half of our group, the thought on all our minds, after “I hope this cop isn’t corrupt and handing us over to narcos” was, “¡Pinche José!” (Translation: “Stupid” Jose…yes we’ll stick with stupid.”) We were worried that crossing back into the US would mean waiting in a line of cars for several hours, but we were pleasantly surprised to drive right through. Then again as Brett wisely noted, ‘smart’ people don’t generally cross over the border in Tijuana at midnight. Our car passed through without an issue, apart from David awkwardly greeting the security check and mentioning that yes, we did have food to declare; after Aish death-glared him, he quickly clarified, “Pringles, we

just uhh, are declaring Pringles”. Satisfied that we were in fact the awkward, naive, and harmless college students that we are, the guards let us pass through. The other car (Jose, Giseob, Sam Lee, and Kevin) did not fare as well: with a Mexican without a passport, a Thai smuggling mangoes in the trunk, and a Korean without correct

documentation, they were required to move to secondary inspection, patiently waiting between one car full of drugs and another car being dismantled to pull out a terrified child hidden inside.

Buying fresh oysters, shrimp and fish at a local seafood market? $40.

Having a restaurant on the water cook up

our seafood with plenty of lime, chilli and garlic while we sipped piña coladas, coronas and micheladas? $30. Trying to ignore a boat-tour man bark like a seal at us throughout our meal? Priceless. Halfway through one of our meals, an old man walked up to us with a strange box and silently, solemnly held out metal poles that

were attached. Giseob gladly accepted, eager to see what they were for. Apparently these were metal bars conducted high volts of electricity from the battery the old man sported. We all laughed, slightly worried as Giseob yelled in pain, unable to unclench his fists as the man increased the voltage. The man tried offering the poles to Sam, but David stepped up to the plate and

grabbed hold, grimacing in a forced smile as he pretended not to be in pain. He also pretended not to hear the old man who informed him that the waitress withstood a higher voltage.

DPhiE Does Baja

By Jazzy Fatemi

Continued on Page 5


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Alumni Spotlight: Peace Corps Volunteer Sister Meghan Mize

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Hello DPhiE Brothers and Sisters! For those of you I haven’t met, my name is Meghan Mize, and I pledged Fall 2008 and graduated May 2011. Currently, I am in northern Senegal working on agriculture with Peace Corps (officially a Urban and Peri-Urban Agriculture Extension Agent). I arrived in Senegal at the end of last August, which puts me at seven months out of my 27 months of service. I live in a small town of 6,000 people in the northern-most part of Senegal 20 kilometers from the Mauritanian boarder. It is very dry and is basically a big desert. Because of the shortage of volunteers in my area, I am also assigned to work two larger cities where I have taken over some the projects of volunteers who have completed their service and not been replaced. Right now, I am managing an existing hospital garden, starting a new hospital garden, building a demonstration garden for women’s groups in the surrounding area to learn improved techniques, and working closely with a “Master Farmer”, a farmer that implements all of the

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Peace Corps approved techniques and holds demonstrations on his or her land. I also just hang out at people home gardens, the women’s banana field, and the large irrigated fields by my house to learn as much as I can. In addition to the gardening activities, I am about to begin a scholarship program that Peace Corps/Senegal offers for middle school girls. If this sounds like it is a lot, it is. I’m not really sure how to sum up seven months in Senegal, so I’ll tell you guys what I did today. I woke up around 5am to the sounds of the call to prayer from the mosque near my house. Then I tried to go back to bed but was once again woken up around 6am to the sounds of an annoying donkey that likes to sit outside my hut and make donkey noises day and night. Then at about 6:30 one of the women in my house decided it was the perfect time of day to start chopping wood in front of my door. At this point, I decided it was a losing battle and got up. I got out from under my mosquito net and left my one-


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(Continued)

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room thatch-roofed mud hut to go have breakfast with my family. Everyone has a 5-inch piece of bread and a bit coffee warmed on some hot coals before they start their activities. Later, they might eat some ground rice and milk (all three meals at my house include a large amount of rice). After breakfast, I watered the tree nursery I set up last week, which has finally starting sprouting after a surprise rain. I also instructed my younger sister how and when to water it since I was leaving to go to one of the big cities I work in for a meeting about the new hospital garden. After this, I went to the phone repair guy (who is really just a teenager who has his own shop) to whom I had given my water-logged phone that I had dropped in a bucket of soap and vegetable oil while I was helping a neighbor make a home-made sticky trap for the aphids that were eating her eggplant. Even though he said he would be there at 8am, by 9am he still hadn’t showed up. Thankfully, one of my older host sisters was selling breakfast sandwiches near the repair shop and called the kid’s mom to get him out of bed. By 9:30, I had a working phone again! With my phone in hand, I was finally ready to head out of Taredji, so I walked over to the garage to pick up a car. Because Taredji is at the intersection of two roads, there are always tons of cars waiting to fill up. I was lucky enough to come across a car going in my direction that was pretty much full, and we took off shortly. However, I knew it was too

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good to be true when the car started sputtering and the guy who collects the money in the back of the car opens a hole at my feet in the tin floor of the car and starts playing around with the gas tank while we are still moving. We end up sitting on the side of the road for about 30 minuets, but they managed to get the car going again. After 2 hours, I finally make the 20-kilometer journey and convince the car to let me out early at the bank where I am meeting someone from the Peace Corps who is going to help me transfer a large sum of money to some guys in Dakar who are going to build the fence for the hospital garden. Once we get inside the bank, it turns out that the account number we have for the fence team doesn’t have enough digits in it and we have to call my boss the head of the Ag sector of Peace Corps about five times in order to get it right as well as spend another hour and a half at the bank. Now, I head over to the hospital to let the director know that the money has been sent. I also had to buy a motor for the refrigerator at the Peace Corps regional house (Peace Corps Senegal has “regional” houses all over the country for volunteers to stay at and use the internet, etc). Conveniently, the guy who sells spare refrigerator motors operates out of a back room of the hospital? For once, something went smoothly. After a long days work, I topped up on phone credit at a local boutique and bought a Fanta. Now I am waiting for the refrigerator

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repairman to show up and install the motor while I budget for the hospital garden. If any of you have any questions about Peace Corps (the application process, Peace Corps/Senegal, etc) or Senegal in general please don’t hesitate to email me. You can also read my blog for more info on my service (http://eatcoconuts.blogspot.com) Or even better, if any of you want to come visit me in Senegal, my hut door is always open, which as it turns out is the best way to have all your stuff eaten by a hungry goat. May we never forget each other, nor our friendship cease to grow! DPhiE Love, Meghan [email protected]

Us collecting wood and me looking ridiculous with 2 sticks on my head


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France Goes To The Polls To Decide The Next President of the Republic

ClearlyGiseobishungryforsomefreshseafood.

On April 22, French citizens all over the world will have their say in the first round of the country’s presidential election, with a runoff election taking place May 6, if necessary. Incumbent Nicolas Sarkozy of the Union for the Popular Movement (UMP) will face a myriad of candidates in his go at a second and final term, ranging from the Left Front’s Jean-Luc Mélenchon to the Front National’s Marine Le Pen. The other qualified candidates are François Bayroue of the Mouvement Démocratique and François Hollande of the Parti Socialiste. The frontrunners are Sarkozy and Hollande who are each polling at about 28% in the first round polls. Their numbers diverge in the runoff polls, however, with Sarkozy pulling in about 46% of the prospective vote, and Hollande pulling in about 54%. Nationalist tendencies all across Europe have influenced Sarkozy’s presidency, and he is feeling the effects of those policy decisions during this election cycle, with more leftist candidates rising in the public conscience.

These ascensions could also be seen as the public’s unhappiness with the way Sarkozy has handled the global economic crisis’ impact in France. Sarkozy is running on an economic platform of more closely emulating German policies, while Hollande rejects this plan in favor of more spending on education and job creation.

French presidential elections happen every 5 years, with the last one taking place in 2007. Nicolas Sarkozy took office May 16, 2007 after defeating the Parti Socialiste’s Ségolène Royal in the runoff election. He started off with a popularity rating of about 65% just after his election, with numbers plummeting soon thereafter, with polls since May of 2008 hovering around 35%.

These are just a few snapshots of our random road-trip to Mexico - chronicling all the hilarious moments with plenty of photos, talking about politics with Aish’s dad until 2AM, getting stopped at every check-point because of the suspicious giant red beach ball Sam had to hold on his lap, avocado egg burritos for breakfast, hiding people in the bathroom so the landlady wouldn’t realize we had too many people, wondering why the security guard to our building had a rifle slung around him, sipping coronas as we wake up on the beach.

For me, the trip was a blur of beautiful condos on the beach, margaritas, fresh seafood, sun, sand, and of course the best company.

By: Samantha Schaevitz

Will he be saying “Au revoir” ?


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Hi Epsilon Chapter, my name is Lorenz Noe and I would like to take this opportunity to introduce myself to those who don’t know me and say hi to those who do.

I am a brother from the class of 2011. I’m currently an American India Foundation (AIF) Clinton Fellow in New Delhi, India. In that capacity, I’m working with micro Home Solutions (mHS), a social housing initiative that serves to provide a portfolio of housing solutions to low-income households in India’s urban areas. Essentially, mHS seeks to address the fact that very little attention has been paid to how to actually provide low-income housing on the ground. The issue of low-income or Affordable Housing has been talked to death and especially in India with such a high housing deficit, the question is not if, but how to provide it. However, this is where the imagination of most policymakers ends. Affordable Housing, all too often means allocating a plot of land to a private developer, who then razes half the plot, uses it to build stylish condos for India’s upper middle class and keeps the rest for low-income housing, most often in the form of housing blocks that retain little of the original sense of community. Perhaps most appallingly, often times, the developer will actually fulfill their side of the bargain by jumping through a legal loophole and buy the same acreage of low-income housing allocated land elsewhere, build the low-income housing there and use up all of the original plot for the stylish condos. What results is the massive resettlement of entire communities far from their source of livelihoods and social infrastructure. Clearly, the issue of low-income housing goes beyond four walls and a roof.

mHS therefore tries to provide the government with alternate models of providing low-income housing. This includes spreading awareness about city development plans among low-income communities at risk and designing better architectural solutions to the low-income housing that is built. Furthermore, the goal is to positively impact self-construction/incremental housing. These two terms simply refer to the fact that up to 60% of housing in mega-cities in India is provided not by a builder or a contractor but by the household itself, meaning the construction takes place in a most haphazard, albeit cheap way. The challenge mHS has set for itself in this area of low-income housing is that the self-construction that is going on anyway should at least be conducted in a safe but affordable manner, since the reality is that the haphazard building results in highly unsafe buildings that regularly collapse, to say nothing of the threat of earthquakes, especially in North and West India.

-A house mHS helped to build-

In terms of what I personally do, my response will be a bit awkward. Consistent with the fact that a degree in Political Science and Political Economy qualifies me to absolutely everything and nothing at the same time, I do project design for mapping low-income communities in Delhi, I run the numbers for projects with the World Bank, I work on program strategy to plan for mHS’ future and at the same time do intern stuff like social media and organizing. Luckily not all of these happen at the exact same time, but I keep very busy either way.

Alumni

Spotlight:

Hello From

India!


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Life is quite exciting in India and I have luckily gotten the chance to travel a lot in my time here. Whether it’s the humid delta of West Bengal or the mountains of the Himalayas in Uttarakhand or the bustling IT centre of Bangalore, India has a lot to offer in terms of sights and I know that I will leave disappointed at everything I’ve missed.

In terms of what’s next, the plan is to work for a year or so more before returning to the sweet embrace of academia in the form of a Master’s degree. Until then, however, it’s a big question mark, as I’m open to work anywhere that lets me learn more about urban development and the money/policy behind it all.

If you’d like to know more about anything I’ve talked about or if you simply want to say hi (I miss all of you!), I’d love to hear from you. I can be reached at [email protected].

May we never forget each other, Nor our friendship cease to grow, Huzzah!

Brother Noe New Delhi, India April 2012 Editor’s note: If you’d like to read about what Lorenz has been doing, check out his blog! http://talesfromtherooftop.wordpress.com/

Lorenz and the prayer flags - Uttarakhand

Delhi

Hampi Kolkatta flower market


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2006 - A bloodless military coup deposed of wealthy strongman Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra while he was preparing to address the United Nations in New York. Street protests (Yellow-Shirts) charging him of massive corruption and nepotism enabled the army to act.

2008 – After democratic elections were held again under a newly written constitution (Thailand’s 18th), two pro-Thaksin prime ministers came to power. One was expelled on a legal technicality by the Constitutional Court, while the other’s administration collapsed after the Court dissolved an entire slew of pro-Thaksin parties on electoral fraud charges. The verdict ended the week-long occupation of Suvarnabhumi International Airport, Thailand and the region’s international gateway, by anti-Thaksin factions.

--A reason why Thais might not be impressed with the scale of the “Occupy” movement in the US…--

2008-2011 – The Democrats, the main opposition party, led by Abhisit Vejjajiva, young career politician educated in the UK, came into power with the support of other smaller parties. During this time there were two mass protests in Krung Thep (Bangkok) by pro-Thaksin supporters (Red-Shirts), the latter of which in March- May 2010 led to a state of emergency and armed clashes throughout the city and the deaths of almost one hundred civilians and troops.

2011 – Abhisit dissolves Parliament and calls for new elections. The regrouped pro-Thaksin party won decisively and Thaksin’s sister, Yingluck Shinawatra, became Prime Minister. So it just seems like political maneuvering between two political factions/interest groups? Read on next time, for there are many themes, issues, and players lurking in the shadows, battling for supremacy in this existential crisis for democracy in Thailand…

By Kevin Patumwat

Yingluck and Thaksin – a dynamic sibling duo


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In Ghana, I once had a difficult conversation with a Congolese friend who had lived in Johannesburg for many years and now lives in Ghana. He asked, not unkindly, about my interest in international development. What gives a foreigner, with no firsthand knowledge or understanding of another country, the right to intervene in its affairs? And the ones of most import, at that -- education, health services, job creation, and so on.

I had often wondered how I would justify my career interests – which, as with many people’s career interests, have a strongly personal motivation – to a resident of a country that I purported to “help,” to put it crudely. That is essentially why we do what we do: Why else move to a foreign country, or undertake any number of endeavors for that matter, unless we think we could be of some service? I found myself caught off guard nonetheless. The whole thing suddenly appeared hugely arrogant.

Reading critiques of the Kony 2012 campaign called to mind this conversation from two years ago. Granted, the most visible aim of Invisible Children is a different one entirely from the aims of the development and aid industry. While Invisible Children does have field programs in northern Uganda focused on education and livelihoods – which are, by some accounts, more effective than the average NGO in a region overrun with them – the bulk of its efforts seem to be aimed at spreading awareness, as though awareness were an end in itself. And not only awareness, but awareness of an oversimplified, distorted, rather patronizing message. As the Ethiopian-American author Dinaw Mengestu wrote, “No one denies that Kony should be brought to justice. Millions of Americans may not have known that before, but millions of Africans have, and thousands of people have been working valiantly for years to do just that. Kony 2012 self-indulgently promises all of this will change because now we know, and thus we have the power.”

(A great irony of Kony 2012 is that a colleague of mine, who was briefly abducted by the LRA years ago and escaped in a staggering stroke of luck, tried to watch the video but was thwarted by Uganda’s glacial internet speed.)

That said, the language used by critics stirs a faint sense of unease and recognition. The more cutting critiques say that Kony 2012 and internationally-focused activism in general often fall prey to a white savior complex, in which a magnanimous Westerner uses Africa to satisfy their emotional needs. As much as a viral video campaign differs from international development work, either way you have to have a certain hubris – or else a complete lack of self-awareness – to believe that you can go to Africa and “make a difference”.

To be clear, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with studying abroad or working in a developing country, as long as one tries to approach the experience with a certain sense of responsibility and with respect for the systems, institutions, and culture of that country. (Having worked in Ghana, Sierra Leone, and now Uganda with no apparent qualifications, I am certainly as guilty as the next person of Western hubris.) But I think it is valuable to examine one’s own motives for engaging in international work or activism, and to try to engage in what the Nigerian-American novelist Teju Cole calls “constellational thinking” in his now-famous piece in the Atlantic on Invisible Children and the white savior complex. It involves connecting the dots – making sense of the bigger picture, understanding the relationships and power dynamics at play in how a problem came to be and why it persists. It means thinking of the Kony issue as something more complex, and therefore deserving of a more complex analysis and solution, than a “humanitarian disaster,” as Nick Kristof recently called it.

I think that the lesson applies regardless of whether you are a self-aggrandizing African-child-saving viral video maker or an ordinary person who wants to make life a bit better for other people: Operating responsibly in unfamiliar contexts means we must engage with them in a careful, deliberate manner, rather than perceive a need and blindly attempt to fill it.

It would be a bit cynical to dismiss the aid, development, and foreign policy/diplomacy industries as a massive exercise in validation of white privilege (or Chinese-American privilege, as the case may be). The issue is certainly less pertinent to seasoned international development professionals than to the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed masses. But thinking through what drives us to do what we do is an interesting exercise in introspection, as well as an act of due diligence to the communities that we try to serve.

Alumni Spotlight Uganda: Sister Alina Xu on International Development

Kampala, Uganda from the minaret of Gaddafi National Mosque


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I concede that I harbor a slight sense of superiority and relief, as though I’ve dodged the bullet of obligatory self-justification, that I work in research and not development per se. My job is focused not on implementation of programs but rather on answering questions and contributing to a body of knowledge. I am working in Africa, but squarely in the field of economic research. This distinction gives me false consolation that for now I’m able to put off answering some of the messier questions of whether I am violating the principle of “do no harm” when it comes to foreign interference in developing countries, as a naïve recent college graduate with minimal practical training in my field of interest and surely insufficient experience working in developing countries. (Of course, it brings up a host of fresh questions about whether research actually makes a difference, and the potentially morally suspect nature of conducting research with vulnerable populations, but that is another discussion.)

I work for Innovations for Poverty Action, a nonprofit whose work is driven by affiliated researchers, mostly economists, who seek to answer a basic question: What works to reduce poverty? They conduct impact evaluations of various types of programs using randomized control trials, an increasingly popular research tool in social science adapted from clinical trials such as those used to test the efficacy of drugs. As a research assistant to researchers based in Berlin, Berkeley, and Geneva, I manage an evaluation of several types of entrepreneurial training among Ugandan secondary school students who are about to graduate into an economy with very few avenues of formal employment. Our hope is to isolate the causal impact of each type of entrepreneurial training, identifying the components of training that actually improve people’s success in starting and running businesses. Once we know what works, the results could inform the design of business training programs.

My interest in impact evaluation comes from both my interest in economic development and in the intellectual dimension of generating knowledge. At Berkeley I majored in economics but took many classes on development, including Ananya Roy’s famous class on global poverty. I liked learning about people’s lives, the range of problems they face, the theoretical underpinnings of social and economic malaise, and the various hypotheses put forth to root out these problems. But I was left feeling vaguely dissatisfied with the level of rigor used to analyze potential solutions, and irritated at the lofty rhetoric that stirred my social-justice seeking conscience but did little else.

The econometrics and statistics classes I took were a little more satisfying, in a different way. They taught me how to distinguish between correlation and causality, how to approach problems in a rigorous, well-defined manner, how to poke holes in analyses that weren’t watertight. I realized that I really liked answering questions. I thought, and still think, that being able to say with reasonable confidence that some program or external force has or doesn’t have some effect -- a measurable effect – is immensely powerful, and something to aspire to.

I am far from convinced that conducting randomized control trials will save the world. Everyone I know who works in impact evaluation also approaches the enterprise with a degree of skepticism — cynicism, even. But I hold that in a resource-constrained world, learning what works and what doesn’t is a worthwhile pursuit.

Despite this conviction, whether I can justify my presence and activities in a distant part of the world I can only begin to understand is still an open question.

~ Alina Xu ~

~ Mt. Longonot in Kenya ~

Alumna Marie Collins and I work for the same organization and were in

Kenya for an organization-wide staff training


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Our accomplished editor recently wrote to me asking for a “What Would Babby Do” travel piece. That’s a tall order: sometimes I have no clue what Babby would do. The fact that word association might well lead readers to judge my responses along WWJD standards doesn’t help either. Luckily, Kaba isn’t just an editor - she’s a muse. Based on her prompts, here are my thoughts. What Would Babby Eat? This one is a no brainer. I would eat street food. It comes in so many forms: herring in The Netherlands, burek in the Balkans, shawarma in the Arab World, papusas in Central America, yakitori in Japan, and of course Tijuana dogs in... take a guess. The list is nearly endless. Some people get a little squeamish at the thought of street food, but there are some common sense steps you can take to keep yourself from being a prisoner of el baño: first, sit back for a minute and see which vendors are getting steady business so you can get an idea of who the locals trust; second, have a quick peak at the vendor’s work area and make a judgment call on whether or not it looks reasonably sanitary; third, let your friends with a higher risk tolerance try it first and wait to see if they turn green. Street food vendors often congregate in local markets so pick up a few vegetables with your meat on a stick. Now you’re looking at dinner, not just a snack. Ask me about Cartagena if you’d like to hear about some tasty treats. What Would Babby Choose [to do]: I’m not against sightseeing along the tourist trail, but my smile really starts getting wide when I get off the beaten path. First thing I would do in a new town is make an effort to put my ear to the rail so to speak. Talk to hostel employees, fellow travelers, resident students, along with any other locals who cross your path. There’s a certain savvy that comes to you quickly when you use this approach: take note when your sources independently mention the same recommendation; run travel ideas past a third party who likely has your welfare in mind, like a couch surfing host or hostel manager; and of course, trust your gut instincts regarding your own safety. You might find out that local university students gather on the seawall for beers after class, or that a one-hour bus ride outside the city gets you from crowded beach to lonely cabana with hammock. These are the little things that make a venture an adventure. Ask me about Matanzas sometime. What Would Babby Save [as a souvenir]: Part of me wants to take the fifth on this one, seeing as I have to admit to being sort of a nerd. My inner numismatist gets the best of me when I travel. I never leave a country without a few notes in my wallet and a few coins in my pocket. Incidentally, my money is on the Swiss Franc as the most gorgeous money in the world, with the Hong Kong $10 note as a notable contender. My affinity for foreign currency comes with ups and downs of course. A rainbow wad of cash can be nice souvenir and conversation piece, but you don’t want to get stuck with too much of it. I have an envelope with $130 worth of Serbian Dinar lying around somewhere. Try exchanging that at your local bank. Cheers, ~M


Matthew Babby Yasmin (Jazzy) Fatemi Christina Kaba Kevin Patumwat Samantha Schaevitz

The Diplomat Staff for the issue Questions for Alumni?

Meghan Mize: [email protected]

Lorenz Noe: [email protected]

Alina Xu: [email protected]

Team Delta Phi Epsilon Serves:

Taken at our last game of the season, but missing a few key players. Look out for a full team photo in our next issue!

HUZZAH!

Pictured: Philipp, Matt, Mattia, Christina, Miki, Nika, Kevin, Jessica

Visiting Jim Allen, who worked for the CIA during the Cold War, during our trip to Napa. Natalie organized a wonderful weekend of winery tours, and we enjoyed her parents’ great hospitality!

Venge Vineyards

Documents

The Diplomat Spring 2012 Vol.2