Thursday, July 31, 2008

I Need A Favor


I was walking down my road today and was called over by the Cow ladies to take this photo of their day care centre. I would love to give them this picture. But it will be a month of Sundays before I can get to a place that can develop it. It's a big favor, but could someone print this out in color on glossy paper and send it to me?

Again my address is:
Mike Wigal
P.O. Box 170
Charles Hill,
Botswana

MAil takes forever to get here. At LEAST three weeks. But it would give the ladies and those kids a thrill.

Thanks in advance

Good Bye Baba

Word has reached me that Betty Gill, my mother-in-law has passed. She was 84. And another link to Jan fades away.

Baba (as she was affectionately known) was the Gazda in the Gill family. I don’t know exactly how Gazda translates, but Sloko, my late father-in-law, called her that. Undoubtedly it was Ukrainian in origin and meant she ruled the roost.

Betty was a great lady. She had more than a little influence on raising Mick. Jan’s dying hit her hard of course. It’s tough enough to lose one’s spouse. But to lose your child, regardless the age, it’s just not in the seeming order of things.

Words cannot express my sadness at her passing. She had a big heart and was proud of her Slovak heritage. She accepted me into the family and always went out of her way to make me feel at home in her house.

I’ll miss her and I know Mick will miss his Baba.

I’ve been reading “The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying” lately and it has made Betty’s passing and Jan’s too even more meaningful, if that is possible.

Tsamaya Sentle Baba(Travel Well)

Saturday, July 26, 2008

What I Miss....

It has been asked what I miss. To tell the truth not much. I have pretty much everything I need on a day to day basis. Sure, access to a decent pizza parlor (or just A pizza parlor!) would be nice. But all in all I'm pretty happy with my situation.

I neither have nor want a TV, although a Seinfeld rerun would be enjoyed now and again. If I had the series'DVDs I could play them on my laptop (hint, hint.) But otherwise it's all good. I have a fair-sized stash of books. But I'm always on the lookout for more. ANYTHING by Paul Theroux! I read his "Dark Star Safari" a couple years ago and knew I wanted to go to Africa. Read it again about a month ago and it merely confirmed how glad I am that I came.

A few eons ago, when I was in Korea with the army, I used to absolutely fantasize about drinking Mountain Dew. But there's none of that sort of thing now. I hear other younger volunteers going on about this or that specific thing they crave. Maybe it's a function of age, but there's nothing really that comes to mind.

One thing I have realized is that I am basically stuck (if that's the right word) in Botswana for the next couple years. I'll be able to travel around southern Africa during leave. But my usual jaunts are out for a while. To relieve the travel itch a bit I hiked five miles to the Namibian border last weekend. Just to go through customs, have lunch and walk back.

It was a good feeling just to get a new stamp in my passport. Funny thing, the guy on the Bots side of the border took my passport, looked up and asked "Mothusi?" I tell you I'm famous here!

Anyway, I stopped at a petrol station just over the line, grabbed a bite (love the meat pies here) and crossed back. By 12:30 I was back home. But it counts: Namibia is in. I think number 46.

The road was the Trans-Kalahari Highway, fortunately for me a (more-or-less) major thoroughfare past Chuck Hill.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

JOHN LEY YOU HAVE REACHED ME!!!!

Use my email, John.
mike247worldwide@gmail.com
It's more direct.
Mike
Charles Hill, Botswana

Friday, July 11, 2008

And While We're On The Subject...



The subject being foodstuffs, They have this catsup here (They call it "Tomati Sous") called All Gold. I'm sorry, but this stuff puts Heinz to shame. I know that is sacrilege to those of us who come from near Pittsburgh. But it's true! It's a little bit spicy (They have a hot and spicy sous too). I tell you I could eat this stuff on applesauce! When I'm finished in Botswana I'll be shipping All Gold to the States by the case.

Why Coke is King


I’ll say right from the start I’m a long time Pepsi fan. And you can get it here. But, in the Developing World Coca Cola is the 800 kg gorilla. For one thing, at least in Botswana, they have the 440 ml monster King can. Maybe a Pula or so more than your standard 330 ml dosage. But well worth the price.

PLUS, it just tastes better than that found in the US. Why? Check the label. Second ingredient: sugar. Not corn syrup or fructose, blah, blah blah. Real 100% Sukiri. The good stuff.

Hey! In Charles Hill it's the little things that help you keep it together.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

My Postal Address

It has been requested and I am hereby delivering my postal address:

Mike Wigal
US Peace Corps Volunteer
P.O. Box 170
Charles Hill, Botswana

That's it. Mail takes at least three weeks to get here. PLEASE send me something. Anything! (Well, not ANY thing.)

The box cost me 82.50 Pula for the rest of the year. (So OK, that's only about $13US. But still...)

Mail only arrives in Chuck Hill on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I keep checking. But so far...Nada!

Saturday, July 05, 2008

I Need To Learn More About This


OK, the most common "community" or tribe in Botswana is the Bakwena. They speak Setswana. But out here in the west are a group called Herero. I don't know what the whole story is, but apparently they were driven out of Namibia years ago by the German colonists. From what I gather they are largely involved in cattle raising. In fact wealth in Botswana is kind of measured by the number of cattle you own.

So clearly from looking at the Herero women there is some kind of cow influence. I've been told it's an honor to wear this outfit. You see them all over the place. These two ladies I met in Ghanzi at a kind of county fair. Kind of interesting along the lines of the Amish.

Mi Casa Es Su Casa...


All you have to do is get here. The donkeys are available as transport for small fee based upon hay burned per kilometer.

Actually I don't know what these guys were doing outside the house the other day. But this is my humble abode. The yard is pure Kgadihadi Desert sand. It's common for "yards" in Botswana to be skinned down to bare dirt. Deters the things that creep in the night.

But it's now home. Three bedrooms, ELECTRICITY(!), water, even a water heater. Kitchen, bath and a half, living room with ceiling fan, PLUS a fireplace (doubt I'll ever use it).

Monday, June 30, 2008

Why Soccer Rules the World




Soccer (Futbol) is THE game in this part of the world (“This Part” meaning from the middle of the Atlantic Ocean east and the middle of the Pacific west, plus everything south of Brownsville, Texas).

On one of my first runs around Chuck Hill I caught this moment looking into the setting sun. It’s just my opinion, but all the soccer leagues and all the soccer moms and dads in the whole entire United States won’t produce the kind of players that these fields do. Barefoot. Thorny. Rocky. A plastic bag stuffed with rags for a ball. Hunger. Passion. Desire. That’s why the best players in the world come from fields like these.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Playing Catch Up

Time to play catch-up. I’ve been here in Botswana a little over two months now. Early on I journaled my thoughts, feeling and observations. But til now I haven’t had the chance to post them. So here is how it went:

What a whirlwind! It’s hard to recall everything that happened from the time I left Columbiana to finding myself in Africa.

I pulled out of Columbiana (for the last time?) at 4:15AM the 16th of April. A last look across Arrowhead Lake at the home I once had brought tears to my eyes. It was there Jan died in my arms, Mick grew up and I moved out on this journey. I left a lot there. But Columbiana will always hold a special place in my heart.

On to Cleveland. After driving around the airport in the dark I finally located an Enterprise office to drop off my rental. It was 5:30 and the place was closed. There was a key drop which I found with no problem. A few days earlier I had checked it out online and learned though the office itself didn’t open til 9 a shuttle bus to the airport departure gates passed by every 7 to ten minutes. After 15 minutes and no bus I called the Enterprise 800 number. Wading through the various voicemails and helpful, but helpless operators took another thirty minutes.

My flight was at 7:30. So I had time, but was getting antsy. Dark as it was I could see the airport in the distance. My problem was no closer to being solved. Finally I said “screw it” and headed off, dragging two unruly rolling duffels, a back pack and laptop briefcase along an unlit highway with no real shoulder. “This is great,” I muttered. “I’ll be killed before I even leave Ohio.”

It turned out to be less than a mile to the gate and I was safely at the ticket booth in time.

Reaching Philly for three days of Peace Corps pre-departure training I took a shuttle into the historic district and my hotel. Along the way we passed by a homeless guy pushing an old battered grocery cart, piled high with bulging black plastic trash bags. All his worldly possessions. Then it hit me. That guy owns more “stuff” than me!

The Holiday Inn was busy and I couldn’t check in til the afternoon. So I kicked around a couple hours until eventually I began recognizing some faces from my Boits 7 facebook group. For a while there it was Old home Week. I kind of felt bad for those who hadn’t joined that online group. It made intros much warmer. Almost immediately I hooked up with my Scrabulous nemesis, Antonia, from Boston. The day before leaving I somehow managed to best her in our last game. (She probably threw it to make me feel good.)

As a group we spent the next couple days in pre-Departure Training, beginning the transformation process that resulted in our being sworn in as actual Peace Corps volunteers on June 18th.

The morning of the third day we tossed our bags aboard a couple buses for the ride to JFK, actually passing by some of our companion’s homes as we drove through Brokklyn (which by the way DOES look like “Welcome Back Kotter/”The Jeffersons”/”All in the Family”/”The Sopranos” territory).

Waiting for the evening flight I called Mick only (of course) to get his voicemail. It hit me as I was leaving a message that I might not speak to him again for over two years. That thought again had me choking back tears as I croaked out my good-bye. Fortunately he called back, asking if I had been coughing or something. [Mick update: My first text message to him from my new cell number in Botswana brought this response: “Who are you and if youre my father a buffer zone means NO CONTACT”. Nice. Also, Mick has been nominated for Peace Corps service starting next March in either Central or South America for eco-tourism. Good luck getting a CARE package from me!]

After last calls to my parents and “The Republican Girlfriend” I contacted AT&T to shut down my service.

Last plug pulled we boarded the South African Airlines Airbus (Much preferred over Boeing equipment) and took off into the night. We made a quick stop in Dakar, Senegal for passengers, but never left the plane. So, no new country!

The second hop brought us to Johannesburg, South Africa. Jp-burg. The city is considered too dangerous for us, so we were limited to the confines of a very nice hotel for the night.

After a magnificent buffet and glass of South African merlot I hit the sack. My first night in Africa. So far it could have been Pittsburgh.

Next morning we jammed onto another bus for the six hour run to Botswana with a stop along the way for lunch. Important because it qualified me for another country.

Shortly after crossing the border (I much prefer land crossings to flying in. It gives a much better sense of “going there”) we pulled into the Oasis hotel in Gaborone. I was pleasantly surprised to see the hotel faced Tlokweng Road, made famous in the First Ladies Detective Agency novel series as the home of Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors.

Again, however, we were confined to the hotel property for the three days training there. My roommate, Derek, and I did manage a three mile run by making 12 laps of a set of bungalows within the hotel property. My first African run.

While there we began our Setswana lessons, the language of the Batswana.

After three more days we dropped all our valuables and one of our bags to be held in safe-keeping for the next two months and rolled out to the city of Molepolole where we lived until late June.

Moleps (as it is sometimes called) is a fairly large, sprawling city with a distinctly country feel. The main paved (or tarred) road has a kind of shopping district along it, but most roads are dirt.

That pretty much brings it up to the earlier posts about my home and bathing situation. As I write this I am finishing my first week in Charles Hill. I’ll post a lot about Chuck Hill in the coming two years. But I wanted to finish off the initial impressions first.

Hard to believe it’s been nearly three months since my auction. The house appeared to have been sold on that last day. But alas, the deal fell through. So the place is back on the market. Other than that I am happy as a pig in manure here. Sometimes I feel like I wouldn’t care if I never came back. Of course I will.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Mma Kolane


My Host Mom and Me at the Host Family Dinner
Woman served up a mean plate of Nama Ya Dipodi.

That would be goat meat for you English speakers.

This is Mma getting her hair "Done Up" by Niece Dhumbo (Yeah, I know...)

My Home for the Last Two Months


I wrote about the bathing situation earlier. Here is the house. Three room starter, with no basement, no furnace, no A/C, no insulation, no GRASS(Awesome!), corrugated steel roof, no electricity, no water.

I loved it. My host family couldn't have been nicer. I loved walking home from class in the evenings. Mma Kolane would fix tea (Those Brits did have SOME good ides). It would be pitch dark shortly after 6PM, so I would read by the light of a paraffin lamp (They call it paraffin. I'm wondering is it's just kerosene.)

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Chez Mothusi

I found my house in Chuck Hill on Google Earth. Can you see me waving?

The big building in the upper right is the Rural Administration Centre. That's where my office is.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

The Long and the Short of It...

Alright, I've tried posting multiple pictures of this. But my internet is so slow the stuff will grow back before I get them all posted. So here's the before and after.
Hope it works:

Check out the car battery powering the clippers...

Not bad for ten Pula (about $1.67).

Monday, June 16, 2008

Short Update

Two months ago today I left Columbiana. Peace Corps training is officially finished. I swear in on Wednesday. The two year count starts then. I'm hoping to get internet hooked up in my palatial suite in Chuck Hill. Then I'll start posting photos big time!

I am well and happy and in a really good place in my life.

What remains is the hunt for my personal White Whale, the rare and elusive Pygmy Giraffe. Adapted to the low trees of the northwest Kgadahadi Desert.

Saturday, May 31, 2008

And the Winner IS....

Charles Hill, Botswana. That's where I'm going to spend the next two years. It's way over west near the Namibia border. A smallish town, the nearest town of any size is Ghanzi a two and a half hour bus ride away. I'll head up there next week for a one week shake down tour. Another week of pre-Service training remains after that. On June 18th we get sworn in and away we go.

I had no expectations on where I was to be assigned. Hadn't asked for any place in particular. But, as I was walking up to learn where I was to go the thought "Charles Hill" popped into my head. I read a book last year about a British school teacher who found himself in Charles Hill for a year. Can't remember the title, but I'll have to run it down.

So it's Chuck Hill for me. I'm entirely good with it. Sadly I'll be far from most of my Peace Corps friends.

BUT, my house will have electricity and running water. Back in the lap of luxury!

Monday, May 12, 2008

And Oh By The Way...

That bucket I wash in? It doubles as my honey bucket.

Thursday, May 08, 2008

Continuing On...

Got a little internet time so I figured I'd update. Can't log in to facebook for some reason.

Anyway, I'm in Shoshong this week "shadowing" a current Peace corps Volunteer. The guy is a Community Capacity Builder, mainly working with the local PMTCT (Preventing Mother To Child Transmission) clinic. He has a nice house with electricity AND hot and cold running water! Gloriosky! The lap of luxury.

In my first post I neglected to mention that my host family lacks these modern conveniences. My host mom gets up around 5AM each day to start a fire outside to heat my daily bucket of water. I drag a huge galvanized vat into my room and set up for the morning prep. Toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving cream (goes into the bucket to warm it up. I maintain SOME standards!), razor, soap, shampoo. I'm able to do the needfull each morning with less than a full bucket of warm water. ONE bucket. That includes rinsing everything off.

Usually I have an inch or two of clean water left to water the melon we have growing out front. I then empty the soapy water from the vat back into the bucket for disposal in what they call the pit latrine, but we commonly call the out house. It is, in fact, build like a brick privy. More adobe actually.

It amazes me to consider the relative efficiency of all this. Time-wise it's not much more than when I was in the States. On average Americans flush 25 GALLONS of water down their toilets every day. Add showers, shaving and teethbrushing alone and you can see how much we waste.

To say the least I'm quite satisfied with myself.

But it was nice this morning to have running water.

Botswana is heading into Winter now. The Batswana (what the Bots people are called collectively) think it's getting very cold. Personally it's still T-shirt weather. The skies are clear almost every day and I would guess the high temps to be in the 80s. Nights maybe upper 50s. It's not humid, so even running during the day is comfortable. A guy could get used to this.

A couple of us have found a little running route near our homes that takes us out into the Bush. Running the high veldt. It feels like we have left civilization out there. From one hill top you can see for maybe 30 miles. I really feel like I'm in Africa out there.

I'll post pix when I can, but right now it looks like it may be almost two months before I'm able.

Meanwhile my Setswana is coming S L O W L Y! I'm rated Novice Low. Go gona mathata! (No problem!)

Sunday, May 04, 2008

They Had Me at "Dumela!"

That's Setswana for Hello. I've been here two weeks already. I live with a host family of three women and one man. It ain't Kansas, but I love it. The night skies are incredible. And I live right under the Southern Cross.

Classes are long. My days are full. Heading out to an actual site to shadow a current Peace Corps volunteer. In a month and a half we will finish our training and hit our actual jobs. Can't wait.

So far I've loved the whole experience. At times I don't care if I never come back.

Oh and by the way, my name is now Mothusi (Mo Two' See) Kolane (Ko lan' eh). It means "helper."

Every kid in the neighborhood knows me by that. Yesterday at the grocery store I was checking out and the clerk asked me if my name was Mothusi!

I'm famous in Botswana.

Internet is scarce. Will chat later.

Out.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Last Post


We've been in Pre-Departure Training the last couple days. Lots of team teaching techniques as seen in the picture above. Tonight we are going over our packing AGAIN and nervously waiting the morning move out.

We bus from here in Philly to JFK for the flight to Johannesburg, South Africa tomorrow morning. It's a whole "Joseph" move all over again. I feel right in my element. I'm one of six team leaders to enable the process. All those flights in and out of Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Oman, Bahrain, Saudi, etc. are finally paying off.

By the way, the cemetery holding Ben Franklin's bones is right behind the hotel. Turns out he died 218 years ago today. For some reason visitors to his grave feel compelled to toss coinage onto his tombstone. Go figure...

Game On

So I'm in Philly for pre-Departure Training. Turns out there are 61 of us going to Botswana. Of those with my job title (District AIDS Coordinator) there are 16.

Thanks to our facebook group it was almost like old home week for many of us.

Tomorrow we fly.

Monday, April 14, 2008

End of Days...


My Worldly Belongings That's my pal Jeter in the background.
...Not counting the stuff stored under the stairs at my parent's house.

It's all about "Lasts" these past few days. Today I said my last good-byes to my old work mates (especially Lee T.) at the hospital where I once worked. Even though I left there seven years ago I still have a fondness for many of them.

Took my last five mile run around Lake Newport in Youngstown's Mill Creek Park.

Had my last Elmton's pizza. Elmton's was my first Y-town (Struthers for the cognoscenti) 'za back in 1978. Still good and greasy!

Last this. Last that. It's time to go already. I always dislike "getaway" day, where you have to keep an eye on how much time until you need to be at the airport. You count back everything.

Lately it's been getaway month, then getaway week, now comes tomorrow. THE last day.

It'll be a relief to get going. I'll have at least one more post before the jump.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Local Man Gets Ink

With about two minutes remaining of my fifteen minutes of fame, here are two links to stories about my departure that appeared in the local media this morning. Salem (Ohio) News and the Columbiana Morning Journal interviewed me last week.

Meanwhile, back to REpacking!

Thursday, April 10, 2008

It Was Either the First Day of End of My Life or the Last Day of the Beginning of My Life...

It's been about five days since the big auction went down. I'm still recovering from it. It's a little eerie to walk through that big EMPTY place and hear my footsteps echo. Fortunately one of my yoga friends has lent me a spare bedroom to crash in until I blow out in six days.

Before the auction even began I knew it would be an odd weekend. Friday, the day before the sale I get a phone call about a quarter til two in the afternoon. This lady wanted to know if I was available to show her the house since she had called the realtor and he was otherwise occupied. I said sure, when would you like to see it? She says now. Well, I had a 2:00 o'clock appointment to have the car touched up, but she said she'd follow me in her car and give me a ride back to the house. It was raining anyway, so I was good with that.

I proceeded to show her around the place. We spent about two or three hours. She's telling me she is opening a specialty bakery in Columbiana and has an extended family AND a live-in nurse for her health problems and needed a big house pronto. the bakery would be walking distance from my house. After the tour we are standing in the living room talking and I can see she's wanting to talk turkey. So she asks me what is the lowest price I'll take for the whole enchillada. I'm thinking this ain't how you do it. So I threw it back to her. What's the HIGHEST price you'll pay. And she says "I'll have a certified check in your hands tomorrow morning at 8AM for $250,000 for everything, including my chattels (that's all my stuff I had out for auction!). I was stunned! But not stunned enough to talk her up a few thousand more. But I'm thinking if I can get out of this at one fell swoop for that price I can go to Botswana clean.

So I agree. She says she has to get a hold of her financer/boyfriend (I think) to get the go ahead, but she'll see me in the morning.

As I said I'm stunned. Of all the scenarios I've run through my head this wasn't one of 'em. I call the auctioneer and ask him what would we do. He said he'd never had this happen before, but we could stop the auction and wave everyone off if need be. But until we see the green we'll go ahead as planned.

Good thing. She never showed, never called. Nothing. Admittedly entertainment is hard to come by here in Columbiana. We don't even have a movie theatre. But that was a lot of work for a few hours modest entertainment.

Nonetheless it was a bit of an adrenalin rush.

So now comes Saturday morning. The auction started at 10AM. People were snooping around at 7:30! By 10 there must have been at least 300 people there. Folks were bringing their own lawn chairs and setting them up in front of the auctioneer's stand. The auctioneer starts off by saying for those without chairs I have several on hand to sell. So the first thing he sells (for $2.50) is a couple really old folding chairs with nylon backing. The lady who got them happens to come right beside me to set down. As she sat the dry-rotted webbing gave out and she dumped her ass SPLAT on the driveway. Even though I was cracking up it wasn't a good start.

So the sale gets started in earnest. Things are moving apace. I sell my trumpet for $420 netting me a nifty $35 profit after owning it a mere 44 years. My Nissan XTerra goes for $6100. But, to tell the truth, even though it's all my stuff, I found the thing incredibly boring. I can't imagine wanting to root through other people's junk hoping to find some kind of treasure. I'm sure it happens, but all in all it's still ends up being junk for a new owner.

My yoga instructor canceled the Saturday morning class so everyone could come support me. In fact we all went out for coffee. I was growing ever more nervous because at noon the house would go up for auction.

Comes the witching hour I am so nervous I could chew iron. The auctioneer is giving the run down on the particulars. How it's appraised at $350,000, but the owner is asking only $295 and will offer a bridge loan until financing is secured, the recent values of neighboring property, etc., etc. I tell my dad I can't believe all these nights of sleeplessness worrying comes down to this.

So the bidding starts at the appraised value. Nothing.
It drops to my asking price. Nothing. I'm not too worried, because I figured no one would jump at that level.

Then it drops to 250K. Nothing.
Two hundred. Nothing.
One fifty. Nothing.
A hundred thousand? Finally a nod from someone in the crowd. OK, now we'll get rolling.

One twenty-five? Another nod.
One fifty? One fifty? One fifty? Nada. Nil. Nyet.
$125 grand is the top bid. I'm in shock. Sick to my stomach. In two days I've had two scenarios that I never imagined.

We stop the auction of the house and go back to selling the rest of my junk. I'm wondering what the Hell am I gonna do now? I have ten days to maybe find renters, get the dump cleaned up...CRAP!

About an hour or so later a couple comes up to me and asks to look around. The guy's uncle was at the sale and called him on his cell, telling him to get down here ASAP.

Loooooong story short, they fall in love with the place. Even as I write this they are setting up their finances to buy at a price I can live with. Happily live with.

It won't close until after I leave next week. But, Inshallah, my accountant, who has my Power-of-Attorney, can get it done.

People expressed to me that I would have a hard time emotionally seeing all my belongings leave my life. But to tell you the truth, it hardly bothered me at all. Things I'd owned and enjoyed for over thirty years went out the door without a twinge.

Except for one thing. When the buyer was loading up my beloved Dagger Crossover kayak onto his truck I got a little choked up. I had paddled that thing everywhere. Spent MANY wonderful hours beneath the stars and on the open rivers in it. Great memories. That surprised me.

But when I come back I already have plans to get a new ocean kayak. Which means I must be going to live near a sea...

But for now I haven't got a pot to piss in nor a window to throw it out of. It feels like freedom.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

ALL RIGHT! ALL RIGHT!

I'll update the blog! I've been a little distracted and it will be a big post.

So give some time. I'm still internalizing everything.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Botswana Update

I have it on good authority the following will be my postal address for the first couple months in Bots:

Mike Wigal
U.S. Peace Corps
Private Bag 00243
Gaborone
Botswana

I accept cash, checks and money orders. And cookies...

Monday, March 31, 2008

My Yoga Group Says Good-Bye


So my yoga class had a little going away party for me Saturday night. Youngstown Sports Grill. These people have been my local social support group for the past couple years. I'm gonna miss them and my three weekly yoga sessions.


The "King" performing Tree.

To their credit none of the girls yelled "Whoo!"

Bud demonstrates his "Man Crush" on Bob. Bob was into it.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Open House



Had an open house today. One hour only, from 2 to 3 PM. Must have been over a 100 people show up to go through my stuff. Many of the neighbors came over too.

Crazy feeling to have complete strangers go rooting through all your stuff. But in the end it's all just "stuff." I've made my disconnect. My renter, Karen, told me she got a little emotional when she saw the old bucket of baseballs I used to pitch to Mick for batting practice. Funny how the mundane flotsam of our lives sometimes unwittingly impacts others.

Hope whomever shows next Saturday brings their wallets.

Here's the ad for the sale of my worldly belongings.

Friday, March 28, 2008

Gettin' Down To the Short Strokes...


Well, we're getting down to cases now. I came home last Sunday night and was surprised when I couldn't pull into the garage. While I'd been gone the auctioneers had been busy getting the place ready for the sale next Saturday.

Except for the major pieces of furniture the house was EMPTY! Not a plate, knife or spoon. The only toilet paper left was what was on the roller. I couldn't even scrub the commode because the brush was gone! No food except what little was in the fridge. Everything is laid out on display in the garage and barn.


Even my beloved kayak.

I've been scrambling to disconnect my life from all the things that keep us here, cable TV, satellite radio, health insurance, cell phone, changes of address...every night I remember something else. Today I have a work crew mulching and cleaning up the yard for the open house Sunday. Getting the car detailed tomorrow so it looks good.

Next Saturday is the auction. All my worldly goods. At the end of the day I should know to a dollar figure exactly what I'm worth.

It's a very freeing experience. In a sense it's like I'm dying. In a way I am. In 18 days my old life will end. What follows will be a whole new existence. That's why I'm inviting as many friends as possible to the auction.

It'll be like hosting my own funeral. Only I'll actually be there to say good-bye.

Ya'll come!

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

My Last Middle East Trip Update

Due to the dearth of free internet I haven't been posting while on this trip. It was a pretty normal tour this time. Had a couple nice side trips.

On my first full day Wes Roy (fellow recruiting tribe member) and I took a quick jaunt over the Israeli border into the West Bank. The crossing was crazy. No signs or instructions. Just follow the crowds of Palestinians and hope you don't get lost. I asked the customs guard NOT to stamp my passport with the Israeli visa. If you have Israel stamped in your passport you may will be denied entry into Kuwait, Saudi and some of the other Gulf countries. They stamp a slip of paper and you carry that until you leave.

Anyway, as it turned out we didn't have much time. The Israeli's decided to close the border at 1:30PM that day and we only got in around 10AM. But we hired a Palestinian driver (blue-eyed! Crusader influence I reckon.) and drove to Masada. In 66CE a band of Jewish rebels fighting against Roman rule captured Masada, formerly Herod's winter palace. Sitting high above the Dead Sea Masada is a near impregnable fortress. The Romans built eight encampments on the desert floor surrounding the heights. You can still see them. Their main assault was toward the western gate. The Romans built a siege ramp and in due course were about to breach the wall.

The rebel leader made an impassioned speech to the 960+ rebels trapped inside the walls of Masada. Rather than live as humiliated Roman slaves they agreed to commit suicide. Since suicide is considered a serious sin what the did was basically count off from one to ten. The tenth man then killed the other nine. Then they recounted and again the tenth man killed the other ten. And so on until in the end only one guy actually killed himself. There were some women and children who escaped the slaughter and hid in the fort. When the Romans took possession they were alive to tell what had happened.

Masada is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Jason tells me I can claim both Israel AND Palestine since they both have their own governments. It may be weak, but I'm taking it. It's no worse than Greek and Turkish Cyprus.

We made it back to the Jordanian border with 13 minutes to spare. A good day.

Here Comes the Peace Corps

Man, it's closing fast. I came home from my last Middle East trip Sunday night. Opened the garage door and couldn't pull in. The auctioneers have the whole thing PACKED with my stuff, ready to sell.

The house is almost empty. I couldn't even find a dish, knife or spoon to eat with. Had to rummage around the barn to find the stuff and retrieve enough utensils for the remaining couple weeks. Got a couple coming to look at the joint this afternoon. This will be their third look.

I think they are waiting until the auction in hopes of getting the place at a lower price than what I have it listed for. There might be a couple other interested parties.

The economic question of the day (and night) is: At what price does "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush" kick in? With this market and the possibility of putting any profit to work while I'm gone, plus eliminating the need to do upkeep, pay taxes, keep it rented, etc. etc. etc. I'm strongly inclined to sell.

My flight to Philadelphia for the Peace Corps pre-departure training is booked. Pleasant surprise: I get to claim frequent flier miles, even for the jump from JFK to J-Burg. Oughta be worth a couple bucks. Plus we bus from South Africa into Botswana. So I'll claim two more countries before we even get started. That'll make 47. With luck I'll hit 100 before I kick.

The things I think about...

Monday, March 03, 2008

More About Botswana

This link really lays it all out with regards to HIV/AIDS there.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

I Still Laugh Every Time I See This Commercial


This is the GEICO ad featuring the cave man and the therapist. Anyone acquainted with my wife Jan, who was a psychologist, knows she would have loved this commercial.

I always wish she could be here to see it.

Along with about a jillion other things...

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Some Personal Information

This blog is almost three years old. I've written about a lot of things. Except for things about Mick and Jan I've kept my personal relationships out of this for the most part. I'll probably continue to do that.

But as it happens I have started to see someone. I know, I know, it's crazy to be doing this when I'm leaving for Africa in about fifty days. What woman would spend emotional currency on a guy who is going to disappear for 27 months?

Since this is my blog and not hers I'll keep the details about her out of it. Except for one little item.

If you follow my bloviating you may find this disturbing. It seems, uh, ahem, er, that she is, apparently, sigh (how do I say this?)...a Republican.

Oh, the bitter irony!

Friday, February 22, 2008

Here's How I See It Going Down...

Watched the latest Democrat debate last night. Hillary vs. Barack. Of course the "Talking Heads" have to parse every statement. Who looked "Presidential." Who scored the best on various issues. Blah. Blah. Blah.

But a thought occurred to me. There will either be a woman or a black man as the Democratic party nominee. That's a BIG change for a nation accustomed to old, white men running the show. But change comes ALWAYS incrementally. A matter of degrees.

It all became clear. The voters (Democratic voters) will go for what they feel most comfortable with. Forget Hillary's negatives. Forget Barack's style vs substance issues. Policy-wise there is very little difference. We will nominate Barack. Not because he's a black man. But because he's a MAN. It's the closest to our comfort zone.

Come November it will be man e mano. Then it will be a young dynamic man vs. an old guy who suddenly looks very tired.

So turn out the lights. Hillary's party is over.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Couple Thoughts About Obama

I hear all this business about Barack Obama's lack of experience and how he is not qualified to be President. How he is good with the inspirational speech, but lacks "substance."

To address each point: The current sorry-assed excuse for an administration is LOADED with experience. Darth Cheney was Ronald Reagan's Secretary of Defense if you will recall. Rumsfeld, Rove, all those clowns brought decades of political experience to the table. Look where it got us.

As to lack of substance, the last Antichrist (before Cheney), Ronald Reagan was nothing BUT style. Mr. "Shining City on the Hill" could do little more than read his TelePrompter like the Hollywood ham he was. A lot of people got rich on the backs of the poor under his watch.

So spare me the garbage. I'll take an intelligent, inspirational President every day. Guess that lets President Sock Puppet out of the discussion.

Obama takes the Oval Office by the way. My call.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Negro Mountain Revisited

Just received a comment on a post I put up last year about Negro Mountain in Maryland. At the time I wondered how it's name was derived. One lurker suggested a Spanish origin. I didn't think it likely as the Spanish weren't much of a presence in that neck of the woods.

This post from Blackprof.com perhaps shed a little more light on the topic.

Check this Out...

Each of us here in the western world use on average 32 times the resources of those in developing countries. Are our lives 32 times more important, more significant, more worthwhile than theirs? Look at this and think about it...

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Time to Join the Fight

I'm reading "28 Stories of AIDS in Africa" by Stephanie Nolen. She picked the number 28 to represent the 28 MILLION Africans afflicted by HIV/AIDS. It's powerful reading. At once heartbreaking and uplifting.

What affects a poor dirt farmer in Zambia affects us here in Disney World.

I have no illusions that I'm going to save the world. But I can't wait to throw in with this.

The Official End of Whatever Once Passed for Culture in America

Friday, January 18, 2008

Another Day at the HIV/AIDS Clinic

Adults this time. Nice people. One lady told me she's been HIV+ for twenty years. I was struck today by two thoughts.

Number one is the "normalness" of these folks. With one possible exception you would never guess anyone I saw was HIV+. They could be standing in line next to you at the grocery. In the seat beside you at the movies. In the car behind you at the light. Prepping your food at a fine restaurant. You would never know. They work, go to school, live their lives. Just like you.

HIV/AIDS is an equal opportunity killer. It doesn't care if you are black or white, rich or poor, straight or gay.

That fact aside (and my second thought) I mentioned to the doctor it appears HIV/AIDS is an economic disease. It seems it disproportionally affects poorer people. Not necessarily because of the way they live. But more for the lack of education and opportunity. From what I've been reading it's like that in Africa too.

The clinic I've been visiting is nearer the inner city. Wealthier patients can see private physicians in their office, can drive out of town so no one will recognize them. Cover their tracks so to speak. At the clinic there is no pretension. The patients I've seen are pretty much open about their condition. Very little BS.

I find myself wanting to return. I add nothing to these people's lives. I just shadow the doctor and chat. Yet I feel good about going there.

Picking up some of the technical terms too. Viral Load: the lower the better. CD4 count: the higher the better.

Oh, yeah, HIV+ people HAVE handled your food.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

My Education in HIV/AIDS

Today I "shadowed" a Pediatric HIV/AIDS physician at the local clinic. What an education. Met a lot of staff folks. All very dynamic, giving people.

But it was the kids that made the experience unforgettable.

I met a young teen-aged lady who found out she did NOT have HIV. Seeing the realization on her face was palpable. The relief that she was not going to die changed her whole persona. I said afterwards that as days go she had just had a pretty darned good one!

But there was also the cutest little three month old HIV positive baby boy, a sixteen year old HIV positive girl and a set of four-year-old identical twins in which one was HIV positive and the other HIV negative. All were in for treatment of non-AIDS type complaints, like colds or to check their blood levels. They were all symptom free.

It was an exposure to a world I have to date not known. This will be my life for the next two and a half years.

An interesting point: The doctor told me that due to the medications now available AIDS is a management problem in much the same manner as diabetes. Life expectancy will not be as long probably as it would if the patient was negative. Same as with diabetes. Plus we don't know what will be developed in the future in the fight. But , HIV positive folks can look toward living a basically normal life. Twenty years ago that was out of the question.

But for those of you who think AIDS is God's retribution for some kind of lifestyle, tell it to that three month old baby. Then go to Hell.

Monday, January 07, 2008

New Link (To The Right)

Updated the page with the Lists of Books for 2008. I'll never hit 130 this year. You may notice a strong Africa/HIV/AIDS flavor this year.

Botswana calls.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

First Pet Peeve of the Year


POWER POINT PRESENTATIONS

Man, I hate those things! Does any power point presenter EVER NOT just read the damn thing? I will walk out on a power point every time. I don't care if the President of the United States (if we ever get one) is the presenter.

Just hand me the thing. I can read it faster than you can anyway.

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Before You Buy Your Next Hummer

Read this article from today's New York times by Jared Diamond.

Think about this: Have you read about the election riots in Kenya? Tribal. The Lou think they are being hosed by the Kikuyu. What's that have to do with Diamond's article?

When the natural resources run out civilization breaks down along tribal lines.

It's coming. Too bad we aren't allowed to visit Cuba legally. They are already living
the way we may be happy to in another twenty years. It's not so bad. If you don't mind riding your ox to work.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

2007: The Year In Review

I thought I had established a pattern last year (2006) more or less of how the next few years would go. And on the face of it 2007 was just such a year. There was more traveling. More sights. More friends.

But, in April I got a crazy idea and applied to the Peace Corps. Faithful readers know I will be bugging out to Botswana this coming April. It's a 27 month commitment. Won't be back until June 2010. Of course there'll still be internet access, so the blog will live.

Nonetheless this post is about the past. So in keeping with my now three year tradition here is the breakdown of 2007 by the numbers (BTW, I just realized last year's post also said 2007 when I clearly meant 2006. I hold Jason, Hani and Mick responsible for missing that detail.):

Three trips outside the US. A fall from seven last year.
New Countries visited: 7 (lifetime total-43)
UNESCO World Heritage sites: 12 (lifetime total-50)

Blog posts: 124 (Man, I gotta do more work on that. I blame facebook for the drought.)
Nights on the road: 133
Airplane flights: 61
New friends: 234 (still an estimate)

Miles run: 2535 (My last decent year for a long time. Won't be running as much in Botswana I reckon.)
Lifetime total: 97,729 (If I can even run two or three miles a day in the Peace Corps I can still easily make my lifetime goal of 100,000.)

Books read: 130! (Boy, I really went after this one. My goal was 100. Instead of partying I spent New Year's Eve finishing Anthony Bourdain's "Kitchen Confidential." The full list is on the Frazy.com link to the right of this page.)

There were some other things. I never made it back to Sri Lanka. That will have to wait for a future year. I still wish to return to my tropical island spiritual home.

I sadly said good-bye to the faithful Saps. Three months have gone by and I still can't get used to her not being here.


The house has sat on the market for a year with no activity. That's a huge disappointment. Looking back on what I wrote last year I was thinking of selling out and moving to Canada. As my friend Mark Schroeder says, I was OBE. Overcome By Events. Instead of British Columbia it will be the former British Protectorate of Botswana.

Still have one more US Educational Group swan song in March. Joseph is in mourning over that. My last trips to Jordan, Bahrain, Dubai, Abu Dhabi and the ever popular Saudi Arabia. I've pretty much hit all their UNESCO sites anyway. (BTW, Botswana only has one: Tsodilo The Louvre of the Desert.)

I STILL have a lot of itches to scratch!

Come visit me in Botswana. You are welcome to my mud hut anytime! (Actually, it will be an apartment with running water and electricity.)

Saturday, December 15, 2007

There Goes Roy Hobbs...

Remember the movie "The Natural?" The sports writer played by Robert Duvall tells Robert Redford (Hobbs) basically "the players come and go, Hobbs. We (the writers) are the ones that make the game."

Hobbs wanted to be the best that ever was. The pressure on him was incredible. More than any of us could imagine. He had an owner wanting him to fail, a woman deceiving and using him, a bookie trying to fix him, a manager who's whole life rode on him succeeding and legions of fans living their Depression-era lives through him.

And he was make believe.

In the movie he hits one out of the park. In the book he takes a dive.

Nonetheless, it brings us to today's steroid scandal. Some pretty big names out there. And some awfully small ones. Bonds has been a target of the writers for years. They finally have something with which to hang him. Funny, Clemens always seemed to get a pass. How could HE perform at such a high level for so long without a similar scrutiny to Bonds I wonder?

Clemens, through his mouthpiece, vigorously denies the allegations. Of course he does. He says Roger has never failed a drug test.

Let me tell you something about that statement. Whenever you hear an athlete say "I never failed a drug test" what he mean is "I was never caught." You almost ever hear them say "I never took performance enhancing drugs." That would be a lie. The most current tests for performance-enhancing drugs are always YEARS behind the technology of the cheaters. Always.

So who is to blame for all this? OK, the players for trying to cheat the system. That's pretty obvious. But how about the owners? They are the ones who profited most on the performance of these guys. They and their Commissioner have turned a blind eye to this thing for decades. The sports writers are to blame. They pimped for the Sosa/McGwire home run race. The pennant races, the whole thing. They are the shills. They were in on the game too.

We are responsible. That's right. You and me. We pay to watch. We support the game. We want the great home run chase, the great pennant race, the Red Sox to win, the Yankees to dominate, the lowly Pirates to crawl out of the cellar SOMEDAY. If our players took a little juice to help that happen, what did we care? No skin off our backs.

So now we have this. I don't know. It could be the ruin of major league sports. Olympics too. Heck, don't you think there are kids in high school doing this just to make the team? Or to get a scholarship? I'll lay you a hundred dollars to a doughnut there are parents out there facilitating it. Just for the bragging rights alone that their son or daughter got a "Full Ride" to some college.

Can we ever trust the validity of any mark ever achieved again? Alex Rodriguez is now the Golden Boy of baseball. If he's juicing will we ever know? The writers like HIM. They won't upset THAT applecart. Watch and learn. He'll be proclaimed the new Savior of baseball in a couple years.

Is it about money? Of course it is. It's ALWAYS about money.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

One Other Thing...

Earlier I posted that our group will be known as Bots 6. Turns out that was pre-mature. We are Bots 7. Has a much nicer ring to it, don't you think?.

My Peace Corps Job in Botswana

It turns out there is a married couple currently volunteering in the Peace Corps in Bots. The Awsumbs (a great name I might add). Anyway, they've established a blog which I posted a few days ago. Their latest entry laid out what each job title entails. My job title is District AIDS Coordinator or DAC.

Here are the details:
1) DACs - District AIDS Coordinators

DAC volunteers work at the district level helping to coordinate HIV/AIDS activities, programs, and interventions. The DAC office is not supposed to implement specific HIV/AIDS activities, which falls on local NGOs and sectors. Instead, DAC offices, with the support of a community AIDS committee, decide how to direct local funds and monitor the effectiveness of interventions. DAC offices also report on local HIV/AIDS programs, such as ARV therapy, PMTCT, orphan care and home based care. A DAC PCV builds the capacity of the DAC and others working in the DAC office. This may involve creating organization tools, improving linkages with community organizations, incorporating data and qualitative assessments into planning and monitoring, advising NGOs and sectors on how best to implement activities, etc.

DAC volunteers live in the bigger villages and towns and their day-to-day job is very office based. (You are being told this upfront—don’t plead ignorance later.) The advantage to being a DAC is the access to resources (e.g., activity budget, vehicle/driver assigned to the office, linkage with various sectors). You also end up being kind of a focal person for the other PC volunteers in your area by sharing information and finding ways to support their activities. The biggest disadvantage is dealing with nonsensical bureaucracy and protocols (which isn't unique to Botswana or the emerging world).

So there it is. Looks like I'm going to have to re-enter the actual "Work World" for a couple years! Dang!

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Read It And Weep

A certain young graduate student I know (not Mick) wrote this paper. He shall remain anonymous due to a felony he confessed to in the paper. But, the message is a sobering one.



Peak Oil:

The Intersection of Public Health, the Built Environment, and National Security



Climate change is not the biggest threat facing modern society, not even if the sea level begins to rise noticeably in the coming decades. This and other anticipated effects of climate change – intensification of severe weather, droughts, floods, the spread of tropical diseases, etc – can all be dealt with or adapted to, given our level of technology. That last part is worth repeating – given our level of technology. But what if this were not a given? What if all the complex systems that our advanced society is based on began to crumble? Well, then climate change would be just an exacerbating factor in a much larger problem. This problem is Peak Oil.


“Civilization as we know it is coming to an end soon.”


So begins the website Life After the Oil Crash, a first-stop primer for anyone interested in the issue of Peak Oil (Savinar 2005). This site is now the number two result when one Googles the word “oil.” Its daily readers include the multi-billionaire friend-of-Bush Richard Rainwater, who made his fortune by speculating on trends that he recognized before anyone else did. Rainwater says, “This is the first scenario I’ve seen where I question the survivability of man” (Ryan, 2005).

Peak Oil theories are based on observations of the behaviors of oil fields called Hubbert’s Peak. M. King Hubbert was a Shell petro-geologist in the 40s and 50s. He posited that the production of individual fields followed a bell curve, sloping upward until half of the reserve was tapped, and then sloping back down until it was no longer economical to pump the field. He correctly predicted the peak and decline of domestic US oil production. When his theories are applied to global oil supplies, some think that the peak is imminent, if not already in the past. Others give world reserves another 30 to 40 years before peaking. However, everyone agrees that at some point they will peak and then begin a long, inexorable decline.

The ignorant scoff and say, “We will never run out of oil.” Actually, they are correct. This is because it will no longer make economic sense to extract oil from the Earth once it becomes so difficult that it requires a barrel of effort to produce a barrel in return. Actually, we will probably stop long before that point. This is because we do not need to run out in order to face a crisis. All that is required is for demand to sufficiently outstrip supply – because all of our economic systems are based on growth, and all growth is currently based on the consumption of oil. Once it becomes apparent that oil-based expansion is no longer possible, and no viable alternative is ready, systems will quickly collapse.

If the peak was passed in 2005, as some believe, that means there is no longer any “swing” production available – extra capacity that can be tapped in time of shortage in order to stabilize prices. It basically means that the spigot is open wide and no more can be produced on a day-to-day basis. China and India are certainly demanding more and more oil. The price per barrel is steadily rising, approaching the what-will-be-historic mark of $100 per. The world will probably find out whether or not the peak has passed the next time there is a Katrina-sized disruption. On that occasion, Europe lent the US oil from its strategic reserves, acting as a swing producer (Appleyard, 2005). The question is, had Europe not, could Saudi Arabia have produced more? We do not know, due to how closely Saudi Arabia guards information about its capacities.

As with climate change, even skeptics must admit that Peak Oil is real, but argue the timetable. They say that new reserves are being discovered and the size of current reserves are being found to be larger than previously thought. Most of this is nonsense. No “elephant” fields have been found in over twenty years. Most of the smaller new fields labeled by the press as “new” are not new at all – they were previously discovered, but difficult to reach. They are simply newly viable, as the rising price of a barrel has made them finally worth tapping. The “Jack 2” field in the Gulf of Mexico is an example of this, as well as recent “finds” off the coast of Brazil.

As for recent upward revision of reserve estimates – there is no way to verify them, as most are held as state secrets, and there are many economic incentives for fraud. OPEC production quotas are based on the stated reserves of its members. Also, if the world became too aware of its situation, nations might more aggressively seek to wean themselves from oil addiction. That is not beneficial to exporter nations.

Humans have a tendency to believe that everything happens in cycles. Life, the seasons, the economy – climate change skeptics even argue that global warming is part of some grand cycle. Our consumption of oil, however, is a non-recurring event. Oil reserves are a trust fund of solar energy accumulated in the form of compressed biomass for hundreds of millions of years, and we will have burnt through it, literally, in just two centuries. This is not part of any cycle.

Peak Oil optimists say that we will be saved by innovation and alternative fuels. Perhaps this is true, but a look at the current state of our alternatives is not encouraging. Solar, wind, wave, and geothermal power, hydrogen cells and biofuels – these are all summarily dismissed in their present states of development by critics, including Savinar on his website, and James Kunstler in The Long Emergency. The following is from Life After the Oil Crash:


When considering the role of oil in the production of modern technology, remember that most alternative systems of energy — including solar panels/solar-nanotechnology, windmills, hydrogen fuel cells, bio-diesel production facilities, nuclear power plants, etc. all rely on sophisticated technology and metallurgy.

People tend to think of "alternatives to oil" as somehow independent from oil. In reality, the alternatives to oil are more accurately described as "derivatives of oil." It takes massive amounts of oil and other scarce resources to locate and mine the raw materials (silver, copper, platinum, uranium, etc.) necessary to build solar panels, windmills, and nuclear power plants. It takes more oil to construct these alternatives and even more oil to distribute them, maintain them, and adapt current infrastructure to run on them. (Savinar 2005)


Still, those who wish to dismiss Peak Oil usually do so with their faith in innovation – faith, not reason. This is due to the Pollyanna Principle. People are more likely to believe incorrect, even irrational, information that benefits them rather than sober assessments that spell bad news. The skeptics call the Peak Oil pessimists Cassandras, the same as there have always been, always predicting disaster. The following passage from a feature in the Sunday Times of London addressed this well:


But those [past] doomsdays were the product of faith; reason used to always say the world will continue. The point about the new apocalypse is that this situation has reversed. Now faith tells us we will be able to solve our problems; reason says we have no answers now and none are likely in the future. (Appleyard, 2005).


And later, in the same feature:


The evidence is mounting that our two sunny centuries of growth and wealth may end in a new Dark Age in which ignorance will replace knowledge, war will replace peace, sickness will replace health, and famine will replace obesity. You don’t think so? It’s always happened in the past. What makes us so different? Nothing. (Appleyard, 2005)


This is the subtle point of Pulitzer Prize-winner Jared Diamond’s book Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fair or Succeed, though rather than phrasing it so stridently, he for the most part allows the reader to draw the parallels between the fall of past societies and our own present situation. In example after example, Diamond shows how the population of past societies has always expanded to the threshold of local resources. Then, once local resources are exhausted, or diminish due to some other reason, collapse occurs – often rather quickly and brutally.

The final section of this book: Practical Lessons, should be required reading of all public health and planning students (if not the whole volume). Though Diamond is more concerned with environmental degradations than Peak Oil, the following gallows humor is still quite striking:


Are the parallels between the past and present sufficiently close that the collapse of … [past societies] … could offer any lessons for the modern world? At first, a critic, noting the obvious differences, might be tempted to object, “It’s ridiculous to suppose that the collapses of all those ancient peoples could have broad relevance today, especially to the modern U.S. Those ancients didn’t enjoy the wonders of modern technology, which benefits us and lets us solve problems by inventing new environment-friendly technologies. Those ancients had the misfortune to suffer from effects of climate change. They behaved stupidly and ruined their own environment by doing obviously dumb things, like cutting down their forests, over-harvesting wild animal sources of their protein, watching their topsoil erode away, and building cities in dry areas likely to run short of water. They had foolish leaders who didn’t have books and so couldn’t learn from history, and who embroiled them in expensive and destabilizing wars, cared only about staying in power, and didn’t pay attention to problems at home.” (Diamond, p. 514)


_________________________________

In The Long Emergency, Kunstler argues that America is perhaps the least prepared of all nations for the realities of Peak Oil, primarily due to our decades-long investment in suburban expansion, and the reliance upon automobiles that accompanied it.


The American way of life – which is now virtually synonymous with suburbia – can run only on reliable supplies of dependably cheap oil and gas. Even mild to moderate deviations in either price or supply will crush our economy and make the logistics of daily life impossible. (Kunstler, p. 3)


In addition, our sprawling suburbs have devoured lands that were once agricultural for miles and miles around our cities. In a post-Peak economy, without the means to transport the average piece of food 1,500 miles, we will need this land returned to its previous use. But will this conversion be possible?

Kunstler predicts that the suburbs themselves will become the wastelands of the future, unlivable due to their remoteness from the city and general lack of access to mass transit. Two-ton personal transportation devices run on fossil fuels will no longer be practical or affordable for the vast majority of citizens, as they are now. People will have to move in closer to existing population centers. Kunstler believes that large cities might be untenable – that the post-Peak world may favor smaller cities and hamlets that are surrounded by agricultural land that can support more modest populations.

When referring to Kunstler’s outlook in The Long Emergency, Richard Rainwater says, “It’s the Z scenario” (Ryan, 2005). An A scenario must then be a set of alternatives and innovations, and the time to implement and scale them, that would work so well in place of oil that there would be nary a blip in the purring of the global economy. The reality will most likely be somewhere in between. But where, at what scenario will we find ourselves when the passing of Peak Oil is realized?

This is the question facing future public health and planning professionals. How do we prepare for the possibility of any Peak Oil future that is not scenario A - business as usual? There is no preparing for a Z scenario. I must disagree with the billionaire Richard Rainwater on what this scenario might look like. I think that Kunstler belongs somewhere around the letter T. The Z scenario would be the nightmare world of stirring ash and cannibalism in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, perhaps as the result of resource conflicts that escalated to a nuclear level.

If we are lucky enough to develop a viable alternative to oil in time, it will most likely still require that we “power-down” from our current levels of energy consumption, unless we very quickly unlock the secrets of cold fusion. This means that the carrying capacity of the Earth will be diminished. Before the Industrial Revolution, the Earth’s population was around 1 billion. Since the boom allowed by the exploitation of fossil fuels, it has risen to well over 6 billion. What will the Earth’s carrying capacity be after the end of easy oil?



________________________________


Where were you for New Year’s Eve, 1999? Do you remember the uncertainty about the Y2K bug? There were predictions that massive system failures and chaos could spread across any place that depended on computer networks. This is one reason that I decided to spend the corresponding week in Havana. Cuba was not dependent upon computer networks, and therefore might be a safe bet, just in case there was really anything to the alarmist Y2K scenarios that were being bandied about the news channels.

Cuba comes up again in considering Peak Oil. Some think that a best-case scenario’s slide down the back-slope of oil depletion with no real alternatives might resemble what happened there in the 90’s:


The American trade embargo, combined with the collapse of Cuba’s communist allies in Eastern Europe, suddenly deprived the island of imports. Without oil, public transport shut down and TV broadcasts finished early in the evening to save power. Industrial farms needed fuel and spare parts, pesticide and fertilizer – none of which were available. Consequently, the average Cuban diet dropped from about 3,000 calories per day in 1989 to 1,900 calories four years later. In effect, Cubans were skipping a meal a day, every day, week after month after year. Of necessity, the country converted to sustainable farming techniques, replacing artificial fertilizer with ecological alternatives, rotating crops to keep the soil rich, and using teams of oxen instead of tractors. There are still problems supplying meat and milk, but over time Cubans regained the equivalent of that missing meal. And ecologists hailed their achievement in creating the world’s largest working model of largely sustainable agriculture, largely independent of oil. (Appleyard, 2005)


Of course Cuba is now the beneficiary of Hugo Chavez’ largesse, and oil is being delivered regularly. Still, the country now has the know-how and the proper infrastructure to deal with a world without oil.

One difference between Cuba in the 90’s and potential American scenarios in the future is that Cuba did not have nearly so far to fall as we do. Cuba already did not possess networks as vast, advanced, and irreplaceable as those we depend on now in the United States. Another obvious difference is that Cuba is not a democracy, and it is not a capitalist economy. It is a dictatorship and a command economy. In Cuba’s time of powering-down, these features were almost certainly to its benefit.

I do not yet suggest that we do away with democracy and capitalism in order to deal with a future threat of unknown magnitude. However, taking more decisions regarding resources, infrastructure, and the environment out of the hands of elected officials might not be a bad idea. Non-elected professional, one hopes, would not allot funds to any more Alaskan “bridges to nowhere” or ignore the politically inconvenient measures necessary to avert impending water shortages.

I believe that Jared Diamond would agree:


Two types of choices seem to me to have been crucial in tipping… outcomes towards success or failure: long-term planning, and a willingness to reconsider core values. One of those choices has depended on the courage to practice long-term thinking, and to make bold, courageous, anticipatory decisions at a time when problems have become perceptible but before they have reached crisis proportions. This type of decision-making is the opposite of the short-term reactive decision-making that too often characterizes our elected officials. (Diamond, p. 522)


Professional planners and public health professionals, working together, could begin structuring our nation in such a way that we could better deal with a future power-down. And even if such a power-down did not occur, these changes would be ones that would benefit public health and the built environment anyway. These include many of the things that our class has talked about this semester: mass transit, greater connectivity, less sprawl, pedestrian-friendly design, LEED certifications, local and organic food production, smart growth, and dense mixed-use development.

How can the above best be implemented? I would suggest the entire United States be re-organized along the framework concept of Megaregions. We would be better off without the plethora of archaic, overlapping, and squabbling jurisdictions and authorities full of redundant and petty politicians and bureaucrats that currently burden us. Efforts need to be coordinated at a larger scale. We no longer have the luxury to tolerate wasted time and incremental, provincial bumblings, simply for the sake of outdated political tradition.

As Richard Rainwater says when considering the post-Peak future, “You have to push way past conventional thinking, test the boundaries of chaos, see events in a bigger context” (Ryan, 2005).

Public health and planning practitioners need to speak up and seek to expand their power. The stakes are too high to be content with the present system, when elected officials can, and do, consistently ignore good advice. Those in planning and public health need to cast off their traditional meekness and their acquiescence to backseat roles. Their goal should be to advance from positions as advisors to positions as leaders, whether through advocating organizational reform or seeking public office themselves.

____________________________________


Portents of the coming oil crunch are everywhere. As recent as the December 9th edition of the New York Times there appears an article titled: Oil-Rich Nations Use More Energy, Cutting Exports. It seems that the historically high prices of oil are producing such rapid economic growth in exporter nations that they are needing to keep more and more of their production for themselves. Indonesia has already “flipped” from exporter to importer. Mexico is set to be next, perhaps within 5 years. Mexico is currently the number two source of oil to the United States (Krauss 2007). For the United States, the crunch may precede the peak. Then what?







References


Appleyard, B. (2005, October 16). Waiting for the lights to go out. The Sunday Times, October 16, 2005. Retrieved December 6, 2007 from http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/article575370


Diamond, J. (2005). Collapse. London: Penguin Books.


Krauss, C. (2007, December 9). Oil-rich nations use more energy, cutting exports. The New York Times. December 9, 2007.


Kunstler, J. (2005) The long emergency. New York: Grove Press.


McCarthy, C. (2007). The road. New York: Vintage Books.


Ryan, O. (2005, December 26). The Rainwater prophecy. Fortune, Dec 26 2005.


Savinar, M. (2005). Life after the oil crash. Retrieved December 5, 2007 from http://www.lifeaftertheoilcrash.net

Thursday, December 06, 2007

This Is Why Tom Friedman is Great...

Thanks to Jason for shooting this to me.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

More Peace Corps stuff...

So I called them today to accept the assignment. Got the voicemail! So now I wait for the call back. They were probably watching President Sock Puppet's press conference.

Oh! The first thing to fall out of my offer package was a letter from HIM. Sheesh! I wanted to puke. George Bush wants to tell ME about service? Give me a break.

Anyway, here's a link to their information pdf about service in Botswana. I'll be in a group forever after known as Bots6. Meaning we will be the sixth Peace Corps group to serve in Botswana since reintroduction in 2003.

Moving right along...

Sunday, December 02, 2007

More Bots info

Here's a link to a blog by a husband and wife Peace Corps volunteer team. They are (or were) both working on the HIV/AIDS project there. I just found it and haven't read it much yet. It came highly recommended by someone else who will be going the same time as me. I think I'll be able to connect through facebook with others soon.

More on Botswana...

I've been reading up online like a mad man. Here in a nutshell is the 411.

Economically they really moved past needing the Peace Corps there until the AIDS epidemic struck with a vengeance. In fact the Peace Corps had left in the late '90s. But after the Botswanian (Botswanan?) government asked them back they returned in 2003.

Still not sure what I'll be doing. But the info I got seems to indicate it will be work in an office of some kind.

No Tarzan. No Jane. No boy. No Cheetah.

Saturday, December 01, 2007

FLASH!!!

It's Botswana. April 20th, 2008 til June or July 2010. I just opened today's mail and there it was. I haven't even absorbed half of it yet. Looks like I'll be an HIV/AIDS Regional coordinator. And today is AIDS awareness day.

More to come.

Mikey's going to AFRICA!