Friday, April 8, 2011
Rounding third....
Given that we’re at the end of a break, I find I have two options for things to talk about. I could discuss my break, which included a trip to the states as well as Matema Beach. However, I think it’s better to look to the future. Especially given that my remaining time here is shrinking incredibly fast. If you do the math, I have about a quarter of my time left, so in the spirit of the beginning of the baseball season, I'm rounding third. I kind of view it like my senior year of school. You have that one last go around where you’re both capable and in control. You can take the easy way out and coast through on easy classes, try to get a head start on future work, or you can acknowledge the opportunity sitting in front of you, which you are better qualified to take now more than any other time ever. I suppose if I was considering an extension, that experience could be the entire time beyond my two years of service I stay in country. However, I am blessed with a fantastic future back home and, as was proven to me on my break in the states, I will be ready to move on when my service ends. Therefore, to summarize what lies ahead I’ll go through my projects one-by-one with a goals list that I can reference on my way out of country. Teaching: My first priority has to be being an effective teacher. It has been a challenge fighting through materials that I was never fully comfortable with, however, I feel that I have a solid understanding of what concepts are beyond my ability to self-educate. Things like quality lab experiments and the higher ends of electromagnetism and circuitry are responsibilities I am hoping to share with someone who has taken the class before. I will see the results of my work with the first class in a few weeks when national exam scores are released. Hopefully, they will be positive. We shall see exactly how my work load turns out soon, once the schedule is set. It is possible I could return to a full-time math teacher which would bring in some more interesting and complex geometry and calculus work. Library: A major project of mine over time has been an upgrade to the library here at school and to say it hasn’t seen progress would be unfair. But it is equally unfair to imply that the library has been improved at all. It has moved from its small room in the back of a building to a series of four rooms, two recently constructed, in the front of the building. However, the books are still found in piles and boxes and are difficult to access for the students. The inability to use the library as a resource has not changed at all and its check out process still deters students. If work should continue on the building, I will actively get involved yet again and try to implement a system that is student friendly and effective. It’s possible this is a project that could extend beyond my time in Tanzania, as it wouldn’t be too hard to send books to the school in the future for use in the library. However, I have to see motivation on the part of the school administration to complete the project before I put significant effort into it. Gardening: I am still working through the preparatory processes of starting a garden project at the school. So far, a dedicated group of students has shown me they are willing to put in effort to maintain a garden and meet with me to work through the challenges we might face. The project still has to get a green light from the headmaster but I could see this being a success if for no other reason than that I would be in charge, cutting out bureaucracy, and we can start work immediately after approval. I also have counterparts that would be interested in this activity and be there when I am not, which is a sustainability factor that I haven’t been able to produce so far. Ministry of Water Cooperation: Recently, I’ve made a contact with a man in the Ministry of Water and Irrigation here in town. He currently works with a community education project on preserving the water resources here in the Rift Valley. Part of their work is to explain why we want to keep the watersheds clean and what actions are keeping them dirty. This affects everything from trash removal to farming techniques. In fact, it’s possible the garden and this project could merge into one if my friend finds the techniques useful in improving yields without fertilizer or farming immediately adjacent to the streams. Student Life Improvement Lectures: I gave my sleep lecture several months ago and I would consider it somewhat of a success. I think the information was taken to heart by some of the students who realized that sleep is as critical a part of succeeding in school as studying. I am working on a Time Management and Study Skills seminar currently, with plans for nutrition to be a third lecture that will hopefully coincide with the beginning of produce from the garden project. Conferences: Mbeya region has a Girls’ Empowerment Conference scheduled for June that I hope to participate with. While my role is more one of support than leadership, the function is quite large with upwards of 70 girls doing various events from education on appropriate social interactions, to goals planning, to health education. It is a fun week at camp for girls who might otherwise find themselves misguided and even taken advantage of in everyday society. Additionally, I’ve been working with a Scottish volunteer to put together a set of heath weekends that teach early college-age students simple heath facts that they may not otherwise learn. HIV and AIDS is a huge problem in Africa but it, along with malaria, can often overshadow other health issues to the point where they aren’t even considered, sadly, sometimes at the expense of a life. The health weekend would work to pass on information about issues such as diabetes and mental health that might otherwise be ignored to students in teachers’ colleges who could then further distribute the information to the classes they teach once they graduate. It’s interesting to compare my goals now to my goals just a year ago. I had just left my big training that occurs three months into service and had ideas for what I could do with the school. Those turned into focuses on the library and my Swahili skills, which, for better or worse, have fallen in the priorities list. I may not speak fantastic Swahili but I can get by, and the library has moved along at a snail’s pace. Yet, I think I can still accomplish a significant amount between now and my return to the states, even potentially starting new projects that could live beyond my time here. It’s both exciting and sad to think about the end, but my window is closing whether I like it or not. It’s time to make something of my two years here :P
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
The role of respect
When you start the process of going somewhere where you will live in a different culture they warn you about the cultural issues. Watch out for the wrong hand motions, always be aware of how you are presenting yourself, try to use their language, etc. However, what they don’t always succeed in explaining is that the differences extend beyond that, into the very core ideas of what is acceptable interaction between humans. I’m finding it hard to deal sometimes with the idea of respect as it is shown here in Tanzania. Some of the ways of showing respect in this country look to me a lot more like submission and servitude than respect.
I suppose first of all, I should apologize to my brothers, Erik and Samuel. Some of the things that drive me up the wall today are the very things I would do to them when we were younger. Not because I thought they needed to develop more respect for me as their big brother, or even that I wanted them to fear me, but rather I just exercised the power that being a larger human being gave me at the time. I remember both Mom and Hannah trying to explain the problem with what I was doing and really not processing that what I was doing was harmful both physically and psychologically. Now, I think at least, my mismanagement as a big brother has not permanently hurt our relationship as siblings but similar cycles I see developing here are causing this country issues.
For example, one big issue, that entirely stems from the culture, is this idea that with age you somehow earn respect from those younger than you, like somehow you have done more respect-worthy things by just having been breathing for longer. I’ve developed a rather rigid rubric for what earns respect in my eyes, but one of the most important characteristics of someone who deserves respect is that they respect others. I think if you look through human history, you find that those who fit this bill, are some of the most powerful people in their generation. Fear and brute strength will only keep things quiet for a time, as we are proving with current events in the Middle East. Look how quickly Gaddafi lost the support of other nations once he showed that he had no respect for his people. Not all people are good, and not all people should be given a pass or even forgiveness (although I would challenge the notion that we have the right to withhold that), but we compartmentalize too quickly. In our heads it flows “that person is a thief, therefore” when in reality we need to understand what lead to the person thieving. It may not change the fact that they need disciplined, but context matters. Respecting them as a fellow human being means offering them a chance to defend themselves. But, before I get lost on an ideological tangent, the relevance to this situation is that the interaction here between the young and old is not always one of earned respect but of expected respect.
A teacher will expect the students to bring them food during morning tea break by just pulling them away from their group of friends. The headmaster will call meetings and have no issues running into class time. I think I’ve complained here before that no one worries about anyone else’s time. But rather, it’s the totem pole. I’m higher than you. The teacher is higher than the student therefore; the student must do as the teacher asks. Never mind that the student may be a star performer and have listened intently during the class the teacher taught that day, fulfilling his or her side of the education agreement. No, that student should get the food, expending effort to make sure the food is of the highest quality available, not just what was on top, instead of using what may be an important break for their ability to perform at a high academic level. Or, for our other example, the headmaster is higher than the student, so he is more deserving of the teachers’ attention. That’s fine once in a while but weekly meetings about things that are not immediately important and take away from the students’ instruction time are a lack of respect for the students.
Another issue that I have come across is the actual physical badgering of those below them, at least in a school setting. The country still has corporal punishment as a discipline method and I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m ok with that as a concept. Discipline given with respect and a sincere concern for improving the person is a good and necessary thing. However, corporal punishment is almost never followed as it is legally allowed and it often quickly loses its use as anything more than an oppressive display of power. One day recently, one of the worst abusers of corporal punishment walked along in front of me and I watched as kids retreated, even if only slightly, and cowered as he made slightly threatening moves with his stick. It was exactly the same response I get from animals in Tanzania who view any movement from a human as preceding some sort of beating. There is no respect there, only pure power, and that really bothers me. But what’s even more concerning is that those students see that power as what awaits them if they should become a teacher professionally. They earned the right to intimidate and abuse because they passed a certain level of school.
Now, I do want to address the fact that I seem to be dictating good and bad from my high American horse. I’m hesitant to actually address these issues outright because, as some of the teachers will tell you, it’s the way Tanzanians are. Taking away the system wouldn’t process as a shift in disciplinary methods but rather as a loss of enforcement. I recognize that I didn’t come to this country on some proselytizing mission devoted to instilling a system of best practices as compiled by Andrew Shook. I’m not here to fix everything, just to offer a little help, then leave. Additionally, I think the make love not war camp is just as far off base as the other end of the spectrum. Power that is fairly earned and exercised is something that should be preserved and fought for.
There is any number of reasons that humans do bad things to each other. We’re inherently sinful, we evolved under the context of survival of the fittest, or some people are just bad people. But being cognizant of when something is bad, and when it’s just out of cultural context can be a challenge. I do think there is an understanding between them that it is a discipline and respect issue, but it worries me that it clearly goes beyond that, and frequently. What to do about it is a never ending challenge for the Peace Corps volunteer, and an issue I hope to address soon.
I suppose first of all, I should apologize to my brothers, Erik and Samuel. Some of the things that drive me up the wall today are the very things I would do to them when we were younger. Not because I thought they needed to develop more respect for me as their big brother, or even that I wanted them to fear me, but rather I just exercised the power that being a larger human being gave me at the time. I remember both Mom and Hannah trying to explain the problem with what I was doing and really not processing that what I was doing was harmful both physically and psychologically. Now, I think at least, my mismanagement as a big brother has not permanently hurt our relationship as siblings but similar cycles I see developing here are causing this country issues.
For example, one big issue, that entirely stems from the culture, is this idea that with age you somehow earn respect from those younger than you, like somehow you have done more respect-worthy things by just having been breathing for longer. I’ve developed a rather rigid rubric for what earns respect in my eyes, but one of the most important characteristics of someone who deserves respect is that they respect others. I think if you look through human history, you find that those who fit this bill, are some of the most powerful people in their generation. Fear and brute strength will only keep things quiet for a time, as we are proving with current events in the Middle East. Look how quickly Gaddafi lost the support of other nations once he showed that he had no respect for his people. Not all people are good, and not all people should be given a pass or even forgiveness (although I would challenge the notion that we have the right to withhold that), but we compartmentalize too quickly. In our heads it flows “that person is a thief, therefore” when in reality we need to understand what lead to the person thieving. It may not change the fact that they need disciplined, but context matters. Respecting them as a fellow human being means offering them a chance to defend themselves. But, before I get lost on an ideological tangent, the relevance to this situation is that the interaction here between the young and old is not always one of earned respect but of expected respect.
A teacher will expect the students to bring them food during morning tea break by just pulling them away from their group of friends. The headmaster will call meetings and have no issues running into class time. I think I’ve complained here before that no one worries about anyone else’s time. But rather, it’s the totem pole. I’m higher than you. The teacher is higher than the student therefore; the student must do as the teacher asks. Never mind that the student may be a star performer and have listened intently during the class the teacher taught that day, fulfilling his or her side of the education agreement. No, that student should get the food, expending effort to make sure the food is of the highest quality available, not just what was on top, instead of using what may be an important break for their ability to perform at a high academic level. Or, for our other example, the headmaster is higher than the student, so he is more deserving of the teachers’ attention. That’s fine once in a while but weekly meetings about things that are not immediately important and take away from the students’ instruction time are a lack of respect for the students.
Another issue that I have come across is the actual physical badgering of those below them, at least in a school setting. The country still has corporal punishment as a discipline method and I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m ok with that as a concept. Discipline given with respect and a sincere concern for improving the person is a good and necessary thing. However, corporal punishment is almost never followed as it is legally allowed and it often quickly loses its use as anything more than an oppressive display of power. One day recently, one of the worst abusers of corporal punishment walked along in front of me and I watched as kids retreated, even if only slightly, and cowered as he made slightly threatening moves with his stick. It was exactly the same response I get from animals in Tanzania who view any movement from a human as preceding some sort of beating. There is no respect there, only pure power, and that really bothers me. But what’s even more concerning is that those students see that power as what awaits them if they should become a teacher professionally. They earned the right to intimidate and abuse because they passed a certain level of school.
Now, I do want to address the fact that I seem to be dictating good and bad from my high American horse. I’m hesitant to actually address these issues outright because, as some of the teachers will tell you, it’s the way Tanzanians are. Taking away the system wouldn’t process as a shift in disciplinary methods but rather as a loss of enforcement. I recognize that I didn’t come to this country on some proselytizing mission devoted to instilling a system of best practices as compiled by Andrew Shook. I’m not here to fix everything, just to offer a little help, then leave. Additionally, I think the make love not war camp is just as far off base as the other end of the spectrum. Power that is fairly earned and exercised is something that should be preserved and fought for.
There is any number of reasons that humans do bad things to each other. We’re inherently sinful, we evolved under the context of survival of the fittest, or some people are just bad people. But being cognizant of when something is bad, and when it’s just out of cultural context can be a challenge. I do think there is an understanding between them that it is a discipline and respect issue, but it worries me that it clearly goes beyond that, and frequently. What to do about it is a never ending challenge for the Peace Corps volunteer, and an issue I hope to address soon.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
The neglected story of coming to site
I received a request to tell the tale of my arriving at site recently, so here is that story. I apologize if I have forgotten a few details you were interested in.
The day before heading to site is swearing in. For our event, we had a ceremony on the lawn at the US Ambassador’s residence in Dar es Salaam. It was a motivating ceremony as we were all gathered together to commit ourselves to service for 2 years and everyone is excited to see where they’re going. After the ceremony, which was on the day before Thanksgiving, we went to our Country Director’s house for a thanksgiving meal. At some point that evening, I think it dawned on us that we were not going to see the majority of our group members for a long time. We knew who are site mates are, so we know who we were going to be on the bus with. But the realization that it could be over a year before seeing friends you was kind of a difficult one. Not only because you’ve developed relationships but because you rely on them to help you deal with the challenges of living in another culture and it’s scary to see that support leg headed out the door.
The bus tickets were purchased so that we would sit next to our school’s representative, but given that we had met with these people just one time, it didn’t take us long to formulate a plan to sit together as volunteers. In retrospect, this seems kind of childish but at the time it seemed like a dramatic improvement on our situation. It’s funny how when you’re a kid you assume all those nerves and concerns go away as you grow. To some degree they do, but the reality is, put yourself in a challenging situation and you find they haven’t disappeared at all, they’re just lying dormant. Anyway, we ended up sitting as we were assigned and nothing went wrong...surprise!
When we started the day, we knew it was going to be a long drive…we just didn’t realize it was going to be THAT long. I still complain about the bus ride but the reality is that I can do it without much trouble now. I remember only a couple parts of the actual ride. I spent the entirety of my training in the northern half of the country, only leaving the Dar-Morogoro corridor twice; once on shadow to Kondoa and once on our trip to Mikumi National Park. Entering the southern highlands is rather impressive. You pass through the Mikumi area and then head up a big hill. From there on things get very hilly and you begin to careen along the side of ever increasing hills that become mountains with a massive river below you. Traveling at full speed and passing these massive buses is quite scary and it really doesn’t end, save one 15ish kilometer stretch of flat, until you’re just outside of Iringa. It was my first realization that there was something more to Tanzania than the semi-arid grassland in the middle of the country and the coastal plains of Dar. How little I knew!
I remember being disappointed I slept passed Iringa. I truly enjoy traveling through cities. I don’t know for sure why but I have always liked to see each place pass by instead of sitting on the same rural-looking highway passing around it. Knowing Iringa as I do now, you don’t go into the city so I hadn’t really missed much. Shortly after Iringa we hit a dog in the middle of the road. Considering the pack of dogs that had been there moments before, it was a surprisingly low mortality rate.
Nothing much of significance passed after that until coming into the Mbeya area. Given that I have a really good sense of direction and map memory, I didn’t fall into the trap of thinking I’d almost made it to Tukuyu but it was dusk and it served as a unfortunate reminder that I still had further to go. Just outside of the “suburb” (it’s really just all one massive conglomeration of urban poverty, just different names for different parts) of Uyole, the road climbs a mountain to get into our valley. I remember watching the headlights of the bus against the curves as we went down and around all these hills because by this time I couldn’t see anything else.
When we finally arrived in Tukuyu, I got off to a well-lit and relatively active bus stand and only did what I was told. Collect all my stuff, and put it into a cab. We were trained all of training that we have to be in charge of all our stuff or it will probably get stolen. In Ubungo, that may be true, but away from the biggest cities con artists and thieves are much harder to find. However, not knowing that at the time made me quite nervous. After we got everything into the cab, probably a 5-10 minute affair, we loaded ourselves and rode the perhaps 1-1.5 minute ride to my house. I think at the time it was probably the best approach given how much stuff I had, but that is the only time I have ever taken a cab for that trip.
My second master, who had accompanied me from Dar, brought me to the house and helped me get settled inside. It was a large space, considering at no point in my life had “my space” consisted of anything more than a bedroom. So naturally, I put my stuff in my bedroom and headed to the headmaster’s house for dinner. He was out of town for the night and I had only Mama and the kids to eat with. After dinner, I found my way home and went to sleep.
The next morning, I spent about 3 hours setting up some of my house, specifically my bedroom, finding what was in the room that had been locked and generally rearranging until I felt like it was a least slightly my house. About the time I was ready to relax, I got a call from Theo, who realized he had no food or things to do in his house. He found his way into town, an hour and a half long affair, and we started to figure out what was where. We found lunch at a restaurant that has since become one of our mainstays and began shopping for both food and home items in the market.
Of course, we didn’t get everything in those first few days and the process of outfitting a home continued for several weeks. Now however, everything seems to have happened right away but it was a process that took time and planning. My house is very much mine now, even though wall decorations are scant, and those that exist are not mine. I’ve adjusted the arrangement of things several times but that’s part of who I am. It’s all a matter of perspective of course, but now the process of arriving seems like a small step in the process, but it absolutely was a massive shock to my self-comfort as I had never been so alone before. Actually, I doubt I’ll ever face such a substantial challenge alone again….Interesting. :)
The day before heading to site is swearing in. For our event, we had a ceremony on the lawn at the US Ambassador’s residence in Dar es Salaam. It was a motivating ceremony as we were all gathered together to commit ourselves to service for 2 years and everyone is excited to see where they’re going. After the ceremony, which was on the day before Thanksgiving, we went to our Country Director’s house for a thanksgiving meal. At some point that evening, I think it dawned on us that we were not going to see the majority of our group members for a long time. We knew who are site mates are, so we know who we were going to be on the bus with. But the realization that it could be over a year before seeing friends you was kind of a difficult one. Not only because you’ve developed relationships but because you rely on them to help you deal with the challenges of living in another culture and it’s scary to see that support leg headed out the door.
The bus tickets were purchased so that we would sit next to our school’s representative, but given that we had met with these people just one time, it didn’t take us long to formulate a plan to sit together as volunteers. In retrospect, this seems kind of childish but at the time it seemed like a dramatic improvement on our situation. It’s funny how when you’re a kid you assume all those nerves and concerns go away as you grow. To some degree they do, but the reality is, put yourself in a challenging situation and you find they haven’t disappeared at all, they’re just lying dormant. Anyway, we ended up sitting as we were assigned and nothing went wrong...surprise!
When we started the day, we knew it was going to be a long drive…we just didn’t realize it was going to be THAT long. I still complain about the bus ride but the reality is that I can do it without much trouble now. I remember only a couple parts of the actual ride. I spent the entirety of my training in the northern half of the country, only leaving the Dar-Morogoro corridor twice; once on shadow to Kondoa and once on our trip to Mikumi National Park. Entering the southern highlands is rather impressive. You pass through the Mikumi area and then head up a big hill. From there on things get very hilly and you begin to careen along the side of ever increasing hills that become mountains with a massive river below you. Traveling at full speed and passing these massive buses is quite scary and it really doesn’t end, save one 15ish kilometer stretch of flat, until you’re just outside of Iringa. It was my first realization that there was something more to Tanzania than the semi-arid grassland in the middle of the country and the coastal plains of Dar. How little I knew!
I remember being disappointed I slept passed Iringa. I truly enjoy traveling through cities. I don’t know for sure why but I have always liked to see each place pass by instead of sitting on the same rural-looking highway passing around it. Knowing Iringa as I do now, you don’t go into the city so I hadn’t really missed much. Shortly after Iringa we hit a dog in the middle of the road. Considering the pack of dogs that had been there moments before, it was a surprisingly low mortality rate.
Nothing much of significance passed after that until coming into the Mbeya area. Given that I have a really good sense of direction and map memory, I didn’t fall into the trap of thinking I’d almost made it to Tukuyu but it was dusk and it served as a unfortunate reminder that I still had further to go. Just outside of the “suburb” (it’s really just all one massive conglomeration of urban poverty, just different names for different parts) of Uyole, the road climbs a mountain to get into our valley. I remember watching the headlights of the bus against the curves as we went down and around all these hills because by this time I couldn’t see anything else.
When we finally arrived in Tukuyu, I got off to a well-lit and relatively active bus stand and only did what I was told. Collect all my stuff, and put it into a cab. We were trained all of training that we have to be in charge of all our stuff or it will probably get stolen. In Ubungo, that may be true, but away from the biggest cities con artists and thieves are much harder to find. However, not knowing that at the time made me quite nervous. After we got everything into the cab, probably a 5-10 minute affair, we loaded ourselves and rode the perhaps 1-1.5 minute ride to my house. I think at the time it was probably the best approach given how much stuff I had, but that is the only time I have ever taken a cab for that trip.
My second master, who had accompanied me from Dar, brought me to the house and helped me get settled inside. It was a large space, considering at no point in my life had “my space” consisted of anything more than a bedroom. So naturally, I put my stuff in my bedroom and headed to the headmaster’s house for dinner. He was out of town for the night and I had only Mama and the kids to eat with. After dinner, I found my way home and went to sleep.
The next morning, I spent about 3 hours setting up some of my house, specifically my bedroom, finding what was in the room that had been locked and generally rearranging until I felt like it was a least slightly my house. About the time I was ready to relax, I got a call from Theo, who realized he had no food or things to do in his house. He found his way into town, an hour and a half long affair, and we started to figure out what was where. We found lunch at a restaurant that has since become one of our mainstays and began shopping for both food and home items in the market.
Of course, we didn’t get everything in those first few days and the process of outfitting a home continued for several weeks. Now however, everything seems to have happened right away but it was a process that took time and planning. My house is very much mine now, even though wall decorations are scant, and those that exist are not mine. I’ve adjusted the arrangement of things several times but that’s part of who I am. It’s all a matter of perspective of course, but now the process of arriving seems like a small step in the process, but it absolutely was a massive shock to my self-comfort as I had never been so alone before. Actually, I doubt I’ll ever face such a substantial challenge alone again….Interesting. :)
Monday, February 14, 2011
I suppose I should apologize for my extended blogging absence. While I recognize that I can obviously write when I want, I do know some people use my blog as a way to keep tabs on me, so I’ll try to improve my frequency here in the coming weeks.
I suppose I should first start with an update on the recent events here in Tanzania. For Christmas, I was blessed with a visit from my family for the holiday season. Yes, that’s right, Mom traveled across the world! How’s that for a Christmas gift!? Overcoming lifelong fears to visit means quite a bit!
Anyway, they arrived on December 23rd into Dar es Salaam, with the those coming from America arriving quite late. I was fortunate enough to have some Peace Corps friends who were able to reserve them rooms at a hotel as well as get bus tickets for the morning. Now, I have to admit, if you ask any volunteer here in Tanzania they would tell you they would be concerned with family trying to navigate Dar alone and I was quite concerned something would go wrong. However, fortunately, everything seemed to go according to plan and everyone found their way onto the correct bus in their seats when the bus pulled out of Ubungo, the main bus stand, which is probably the most hectic and stressful place I’ve encountered in country.
After experiencing the 14 hour bus ride that brings you from Dar es Salaam to Tukuyu the family disembarked only a short walk from my house. Once we reached the house, I served the dinner I had hastily cooked during a miscommunication, thinking they were an hour and a half closer than was actually true.
The next morning was Christmas day and we shared presents. Hannah and James brought their gifts from the first leg of their trip in India and everyone else brought gifts from home. It was really nice to have a true family Christmas, even if the only decoration in the room was the one Christmas stocking I found in the house when I moved in.
Over the next two days we did traveling around the Tukuyu area. This valley is quite blessed in terms of its natural wonders which to see. We went to Ngozi Crater Lake the day after Christmas and then Kaparogwe Waterfall the next. Since I’ve spent time describing these two places before, I’m going to move on for now (with pictures of course).
The following day was business and good-byes. Hannah and James left for the airport in the early afternoon to head back home. After setting up a few travel related issues for the next week with Dad, the rest of us went to the airport after dinner to see Mom and Erik off as well.
The next morning, Dad, Samuel, and I headed out on the dala dalas to get to the ferry boat that would take us to Mafia Island. I’m glad they got to experience both the Dar bus and the standard mini-van dala. Now they see what we travel on usually: no personal space and even less comfort :P But you get used to it and eventually a ride is a ride. The dala dropped us off within sight of our boat and after acquiring some drinking water we jumped aboard the ferry, which is really just a large fishing boat with some 40-50 people packing the deck. It was a relatively pleasant ride out the mouth of the Rufiji and across the ocean to the island. After the ferry stopped well off-shore we hopped into a smaller boat for the ride to the shore…or so we thought. We still got to walk a good 500 feet in the water although it never was deeper than thigh-high. Our guesthouse manager picked us up at the port and drove us across the island to the guesthouse, where we prepared for festivities, as this was December 31st. However, we did not succeed in lasting until midnight as our previous late night at the airport caught up with us.
The following morning, we were able to rearrange our flights back to Dar to allow us to leave in the morning. We actually made the switch within 2 hours of our scheduled departure and still made it with plenty of time to spare, although we were assisted by a half-hour delay. Arriving back in Dar spent the day at the YMCA, introducing Dad and Samuel to my fellow volunteers who were in Dar before our conference. That evening, Dad and Samuel went to the airport for their return flight to the states. I stayed in Dar for the next week for my Mid-Service Conference before returning to site.
My sunburn developed into a subplot of the second week and actually even the weeks beyond. That’s what happens when you jump into the water immediately and then swim around for over 2 hours. I could tell when I was in the water that I was burning, as it already hurt halfway through the second snorkeling session. However being in the water was soothing and made it tolerable, which combined with strong direct sunlight made for a horrific burn. The first two days when we were on Mafia Island and traveling to Zanzibar my back hurt but it was not more than a bad sunburn. By the first full day on Zanzibar I had developed blisters in clusters all over my back with some being as large as my pinky finger. Over the next three to four days the blisters went through a cycle of seeping empty and refilling. Finally, my back started to peel a full 7 days after the initial burn. It was thick moist sheets of skin that pulled off with ease, although that did not improve the color or pain of my back. In about 24 hours the majority of my back lost a rather thick layer of skin and that night I felt what I remember seeing in Erik just before he went to immediate care during his horrible sunburn a few summers ago.
Remembering watching that and what happened was actually quite comforting because without it I wouldn’t have been so sure it would pass. It’s not unbearable pain. By itself it’s tolerable, but it’s mixed with this intense itching that goes straight to your head and drives you crazy. I felt fortunate I was in my room alone because I must have looked crazy. I paced back and forth and made noise to try to deal with the sensation but it would not go away, even with pain reliever. After about 30 minutes, I decided to take a shower. The water immediately helped but after a few minutes it began to actually increase the intensity, so I shut off the water, which also initially helped but slowly increased the pain. So I ended up alternating between showering and standing in the shower with the water off for another 30 minutes. Finally when I went back to my room, I was able to tolerate it as long as I didn’t move my back. This allowed me just enough relief to fall asleep for the night.
Over the next couple days, the skin, which I think was way too freshly exposed to air, began to harden and become more tolerable. By this time, our meetings in Dar had begun. I began to peel a second time but also, certain parts of my skin began to develop massive welts that were painful all their own. Eventually they all started to show these solid, scab-like covers at the top and continued to grow. I finally decided to go visit the medical officer the last day of our meeting and he diagnosed them as some sort of infectious reaction to the sunburn. He cleaned out the worst of them and gave me antibiotics (it seems I can’t even escape amoxicillin, even in Africa) to speed the recovery. After returning to site I continued to take the medicine and clean the wounds every day. Over time each of the welts began to either burst or just ooze puss. The two biggest welts were last and most disgusting of all. When they finally broke open, the infectious material was not some liquid that would ooze out. It was a rubbery ball that was attached to the inside of the welt. As I cleaned the wounds they would expel more of the material and I eventually pulled it out but severing what appeared to be a root into my back.
During the next month, these rather large divots in my back slowly began to fill in and heal and today I have scabs over the two worst spots but nothing more. It’s hard for me to tell if I scarred because of my vantage point but I think it has actually healed quite effectively. Still, having a burn affect my life for over a month has been an interesting experience. Needless to say, I’m going to do a better job with sunscreen next time :P
I suppose I should first start with an update on the recent events here in Tanzania. For Christmas, I was blessed with a visit from my family for the holiday season. Yes, that’s right, Mom traveled across the world! How’s that for a Christmas gift!? Overcoming lifelong fears to visit means quite a bit!
Anyway, they arrived on December 23rd into Dar es Salaam, with the those coming from America arriving quite late. I was fortunate enough to have some Peace Corps friends who were able to reserve them rooms at a hotel as well as get bus tickets for the morning. Now, I have to admit, if you ask any volunteer here in Tanzania they would tell you they would be concerned with family trying to navigate Dar alone and I was quite concerned something would go wrong. However, fortunately, everything seemed to go according to plan and everyone found their way onto the correct bus in their seats when the bus pulled out of Ubungo, the main bus stand, which is probably the most hectic and stressful place I’ve encountered in country.
After experiencing the 14 hour bus ride that brings you from Dar es Salaam to Tukuyu the family disembarked only a short walk from my house. Once we reached the house, I served the dinner I had hastily cooked during a miscommunication, thinking they were an hour and a half closer than was actually true.
The next morning was Christmas day and we shared presents. Hannah and James brought their gifts from the first leg of their trip in India and everyone else brought gifts from home. It was really nice to have a true family Christmas, even if the only decoration in the room was the one Christmas stocking I found in the house when I moved in.
It’s amazing how quickly you fall back into family time together. While some people that unfortunately means the standard family bickering but for us, it is a well developed sense of family and togetherness, honed on month long road trips together in The Old Green Van (I’m starting to understand why you wanted a family picture with it Dad :P). It was a lovely morning, complete with a wildly out-of-place rendition of I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas.
We also did a tour of my school, walking around to see where I operate on a daily basis. It was nice to show the family what I do here. While I know all my work can be idolized and sound great, it is cool to be able to show that my daily life is not all that different from any other high school teacher’s. The system is different and but the reality is, I work in a school much like any other teacher. The difference is, I’m (trying!) to do more than teach. I showed the family my library project, in its eternal state of being worked on and hopefully now they can visualize where my garden project happens, if it gets approved.
Over the next two days we did traveling around the Tukuyu area. This valley is quite blessed in terms of its natural wonders which to see. We went to Ngozi Crater Lake the day after Christmas and then Kaparogwe Waterfall the next. Since I’ve spent time describing these two places before, I’m going to move on for now (with pictures of course).
The last day was an unexpected one. We had initially intended to go to Mikumi National Park but through some planning errors we tried to get a bus ticket too late and were forced to wait a day, cutting out the Mikumi trip. That day we spent in town again, with the family choosing their cloth to be made into Tanzanian clothes. After choosing their cloth of choice, we all went to the tailor to be measured. While we continued on our trip, the clothing was sewn and I have since picked them up. They’ll be taking about half my bag on the way home, but I’m excited to see if they like them.
The following day was that bus ride again. It’s always too long. It’s always tiring. And when going to Dar, the end is always sweat-inducing. We finally got to Dar in the evening of the 30th. I had a surprisingly good experience negotiating the cab, as we were too many for a real one, so we got a pickup truck to take us in. Once settled at the YMCA we walked around looking for a recommended restaurant, Snoopy’s. They have fantastic pizza and ice cream and so when you next find yourself in Dar…
The following day was business and good-byes. Hannah and James left for the airport in the early afternoon to head back home. After setting up a few travel related issues for the next week with Dad, the rest of us went to the airport after dinner to see Mom and Erik off as well.
The next morning, Dad, Samuel, and I headed out on the dala dalas to get to the ferry boat that would take us to Mafia Island. I’m glad they got to experience both the Dar bus and the standard mini-van dala. Now they see what we travel on usually: no personal space and even less comfort :P But you get used to it and eventually a ride is a ride. The dala dropped us off within sight of our boat and after acquiring some drinking water we jumped aboard the ferry, which is really just a large fishing boat with some 40-50 people packing the deck. It was a relatively pleasant ride out the mouth of the Rufiji and across the ocean to the island. After the ferry stopped well off-shore we hopped into a smaller boat for the ride to the shore…or so we thought. We still got to walk a good 500 feet in the water although it never was deeper than thigh-high. Our guesthouse manager picked us up at the port and drove us across the island to the guesthouse, where we prepared for festivities, as this was December 31st. However, we did not succeed in lasting until midnight as our previous late night at the airport caught up with us.
The next day we spent the afternoon snorkeling in the southeastern bay of the island. There are many coral outcroppings and all the fish imaginable to go with them. If I could have only shown one picture from this whole trip it probably would have been the scene from when I was paddling amongst a school of some of the most colorful fish I have a ever seen. Unfortunately, I have no underwater camera equipment and I’ll have to keep the memory in my mind but it was one of those experiences you can never forget. I had a little bit of a mishap however. I put on sunscreen as we were walking to the shore and the boat. However, I waited till we were on the boat to apply my sunscreen under what my shirt had been covering….then I took it off and jumped in the water. Baaaaaad idea.
The next day we went swimming with the whale sharks on the other side of the island. Again, the pictures do not give the full picture but you can kind of see what it was like. After jumping into the water as one would swim by and losing it almost immediately for an hour, we returned to shore and the guesthouse.
The next day we traveled across the island one last time to the tiny airstrip in the main town. There, our 6-seat aircraft awaited to take us to Dar. It is by far the smallest aircraft I’ve ever flown in but it was an enjoyable experience and I never felt concerned, which was a little surprising. We switched terminals at the airport, from charter flights to commercial flights, to catch our Precision Air flight to Zanzibar. Clocking in at less than 20 minutes we stepped off to find our cabbie waiting for us. Now, we picked these destinations off of recommendations and so it was logical to do the same for our lodging. We reserved a room at an inn on the island with the same method but were surprised when the cab turned away from the old Stonetown and headed off into the countryside. We drove for over an hour before we came to a beachside resort on the complete opposite side of the island. Oops. It was actually a lovely place and if I were traveling to stay somewhere isolated for a few days, it would have been perfect. But for us who were looking for a base of operations for Zanzibar’s offerings, it was not ideal.
The next day we went back into town and met up with friends of mine who were also vacationing on the island. We saw an Anglican (I think) church built on the site of an Arab-run slave trade market and went to a museum about the history of the island. In the evening, we ate at a fresh fish market which was quite the tourist draw; although that did not negatively impact the quality of our Zanzibar pizzas.
Our last day on the island was spent doing a spice tour, which consisted of seeing each plant as it would grow in the wild, and a full lunch made with the same spices. The tour took the better part of the day but we returned to Stonetown in time to eat at Freddy Mercury’s, a beachside restaurant celebrating (I guess that’s what you would call hanging up lots of pictures and using the name) the Zanzibar native.
The following morning, we were able to rearrange our flights back to Dar to allow us to leave in the morning. We actually made the switch within 2 hours of our scheduled departure and still made it with plenty of time to spare, although we were assisted by a half-hour delay. Arriving back in Dar spent the day at the YMCA, introducing Dad and Samuel to my fellow volunteers who were in Dar before our conference. That evening, Dad and Samuel went to the airport for their return flight to the states. I stayed in Dar for the next week for my Mid-Service Conference before returning to site.
My sunburn developed into a subplot of the second week and actually even the weeks beyond. That’s what happens when you jump into the water immediately and then swim around for over 2 hours. I could tell when I was in the water that I was burning, as it already hurt halfway through the second snorkeling session. However being in the water was soothing and made it tolerable, which combined with strong direct sunlight made for a horrific burn. The first two days when we were on Mafia Island and traveling to Zanzibar my back hurt but it was not more than a bad sunburn. By the first full day on Zanzibar I had developed blisters in clusters all over my back with some being as large as my pinky finger. Over the next three to four days the blisters went through a cycle of seeping empty and refilling. Finally, my back started to peel a full 7 days after the initial burn. It was thick moist sheets of skin that pulled off with ease, although that did not improve the color or pain of my back. In about 24 hours the majority of my back lost a rather thick layer of skin and that night I felt what I remember seeing in Erik just before he went to immediate care during his horrible sunburn a few summers ago.
Remembering watching that and what happened was actually quite comforting because without it I wouldn’t have been so sure it would pass. It’s not unbearable pain. By itself it’s tolerable, but it’s mixed with this intense itching that goes straight to your head and drives you crazy. I felt fortunate I was in my room alone because I must have looked crazy. I paced back and forth and made noise to try to deal with the sensation but it would not go away, even with pain reliever. After about 30 minutes, I decided to take a shower. The water immediately helped but after a few minutes it began to actually increase the intensity, so I shut off the water, which also initially helped but slowly increased the pain. So I ended up alternating between showering and standing in the shower with the water off for another 30 minutes. Finally when I went back to my room, I was able to tolerate it as long as I didn’t move my back. This allowed me just enough relief to fall asleep for the night.
Over the next couple days, the skin, which I think was way too freshly exposed to air, began to harden and become more tolerable. By this time, our meetings in Dar had begun. I began to peel a second time but also, certain parts of my skin began to develop massive welts that were painful all their own. Eventually they all started to show these solid, scab-like covers at the top and continued to grow. I finally decided to go visit the medical officer the last day of our meeting and he diagnosed them as some sort of infectious reaction to the sunburn. He cleaned out the worst of them and gave me antibiotics (it seems I can’t even escape amoxicillin, even in Africa) to speed the recovery. After returning to site I continued to take the medicine and clean the wounds every day. Over time each of the welts began to either burst or just ooze puss. The two biggest welts were last and most disgusting of all. When they finally broke open, the infectious material was not some liquid that would ooze out. It was a rubbery ball that was attached to the inside of the welt. As I cleaned the wounds they would expel more of the material and I eventually pulled it out but severing what appeared to be a root into my back.
During the next month, these rather large divots in my back slowly began to fill in and heal and today I have scabs over the two worst spots but nothing more. It’s hard for me to tell if I scarred because of my vantage point but I think it has actually healed quite effectively. Still, having a burn affect my life for over a month has been an interesting experience. Needless to say, I’m going to do a better job with sunscreen next time :P
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
TZ Frustrations
Part of the whole cultural exchange process in Tanzania is learning how to deal with situations where you feel wronged a addressing those appropriately. One of the prevailing issues in this country, and something I believe is holding back the nation as a whole is a sense of responsibility. No one will fess up to their actions and a large number take advantage of a situation where they can get away with doing something wrong that helps them. Ok, so maybe that generalization can be made to America too but it doesn’t change the fact that it is wildly frustrating. Little things go missing here and there and no one sees it as a problem, until it’s someone else who gets caught. They complain about corruption in the government but don’t see taking a pen as equal. Now, I am in no way free of blame but I think my track record is pretty positive. I also could be looking at this through an unrepresentative view. I am white and I am perceived to be well off. I do have nice things which slants their assumptions towards me being able to afford to replace what they take. But on a week where I’m trying to live off of less than 5,000 shillings (that’s $3.33 for those keeping track in the states) I find it incredibly frustrating to learn I’ve lost probably 4 meals worth of rice and my next two weeks worth of TP. So maybe some of this is my fault for coming here with a relative abundance of clothes and a computer, but the principle remains the same.
You can always question whether there should be disparity in income across the world and how I, as a member of the richest country in the world, have any right to tell these people what is mine should not also be theirs. But that’s a philosophical question far beyond the scope of me being here. The reality is, despite the poor economy, I could be making many many times what the people here are making. I chose to sacrifice that income to come here and try to help the situation, to pass on knowledge that can help them improve their situation. In a way, I feel abused. Not only are they taking my good will, they’re also taking what I use to support myself, allowing me to give what I can. Now, in the grand scheme of things, what I have lost this week is limited in importance at best, but the timing was not ideal. I’ll survive because, in reality, I can borrow a little, change some dollars, do any number of things that wouldn’t necessarily be a viable option for a struggling Tanzanian. However, I just want to be appreciated, and that was the exact opposite of the feeling I got upon returning.
Not only did the missing materials bother me, the first thing my headmaster said upon seeing me is “why haven’t we seen you?” Now, I recognize that Tanzanian culture expects you to stop by and say hello after a trip, but I was tired (and I have to grade tests too). But the tone of his voice was not one of “oh we missed you!” it was one of reprimand. That just adds insult to injury. I’m fairly sure the expectation was that I came to say I was back and tell them about my trip. Tanzanians will tell you oh, we’re in Africa or this isn’t America like that somehow changes the fact that I am a foreigner. The hypocrisy of their expectation of me to not be myself in their country when they’ve never had to live in a different culture is extremely frustrating. I have come to realize I loathe that line. I may not be in America but I am, in some of the most stereotypical ways, an American. I take comfort in Peace Corps’ second purpose which is to bring American culture to host country nationals to justify my decisions to go to sleep when they might expect me to come socialize. I’m learning, that despite our social practices, Americans are very private people. If you’re tired or sick especially, but even when you’re perfectly well, alone time is highly valuable. That is not the case here in Tanzania but I’ve come to accept the fact that I am absolutely not Tanzanian and there is no need to make myself miserable to assuage their concerns about my lack of a presence.
Anyway, the moral of the story is after only 3 hours of sleep the night before due to my painful back (more on that in my next post) and an early bus departure, followed by a 14 hour bus ride across the country, I had too much Tanzania upon my arrival. I just wanted to rest and around every corner was some issue preventing that.
You can always question whether there should be disparity in income across the world and how I, as a member of the richest country in the world, have any right to tell these people what is mine should not also be theirs. But that’s a philosophical question far beyond the scope of me being here. The reality is, despite the poor economy, I could be making many many times what the people here are making. I chose to sacrifice that income to come here and try to help the situation, to pass on knowledge that can help them improve their situation. In a way, I feel abused. Not only are they taking my good will, they’re also taking what I use to support myself, allowing me to give what I can. Now, in the grand scheme of things, what I have lost this week is limited in importance at best, but the timing was not ideal. I’ll survive because, in reality, I can borrow a little, change some dollars, do any number of things that wouldn’t necessarily be a viable option for a struggling Tanzanian. However, I just want to be appreciated, and that was the exact opposite of the feeling I got upon returning.
Not only did the missing materials bother me, the first thing my headmaster said upon seeing me is “why haven’t we seen you?” Now, I recognize that Tanzanian culture expects you to stop by and say hello after a trip, but I was tired (and I have to grade tests too). But the tone of his voice was not one of “oh we missed you!” it was one of reprimand. That just adds insult to injury. I’m fairly sure the expectation was that I came to say I was back and tell them about my trip. Tanzanians will tell you oh, we’re in Africa or this isn’t America like that somehow changes the fact that I am a foreigner. The hypocrisy of their expectation of me to not be myself in their country when they’ve never had to live in a different culture is extremely frustrating. I have come to realize I loathe that line. I may not be in America but I am, in some of the most stereotypical ways, an American. I take comfort in Peace Corps’ second purpose which is to bring American culture to host country nationals to justify my decisions to go to sleep when they might expect me to come socialize. I’m learning, that despite our social practices, Americans are very private people. If you’re tired or sick especially, but even when you’re perfectly well, alone time is highly valuable. That is not the case here in Tanzania but I’ve come to accept the fact that I am absolutely not Tanzanian and there is no need to make myself miserable to assuage their concerns about my lack of a presence.
Anyway, the moral of the story is after only 3 hours of sleep the night before due to my painful back (more on that in my next post) and an early bus departure, followed by a 14 hour bus ride across the country, I had too much Tanzania upon my arrival. I just wanted to rest and around every corner was some issue preventing that.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Work, Weather, and World War II
So I wanted to write another blog post just to catch up on current events. In terms of the day-to-day, very little has changed down here in the southwest of Tanzania. The O-level classes have closed and it is quieter around school with just the A-level kids hanging around. Currently we’re also in the middle of mock exams for form 6 so that keeps half the kids studying furiously in a corner in an attempt to prepare for their tests. My class’s exam was relatively easy. There were few tricky questions, as most of them were very straightforward and asking for very mainstream concepts to be produced. There were two questions that I thought were out of line as they were never mentioned in the syllabus but I suppose they were probably concepts taught in O-level which would make them fair game for an A-level exam, as they are supposed to be fully cumulative. However, partial fraction decomposition and (less so) the equation for a circle were concepts that we never went over and I’ll be surprised if the students score very well on them. Although, I guess I should be grateful they showed up here and not on the exam for the first time. Other than exams, school is continuing, if only at a seemingly sluggish pace. Since I lost my physics periods, my work load is down hovering around that line where I don’t have to do any work to still get by and at times it can be hard to motivate myself to do quality work day in and day out. However, I am attempting to use the time to give effort in my secondary work, library and presentations, to counter when I regain my physics periods in the coming weeks. However, I find I do better work when I have more of it so it may take that additional responsibility to trigger a consistent quality response.
The seasons are one thing that is changing, and rather rapidly, right now. It has looked like a storm several times and even spit rain while grumbling thunder, but until quite recently the actual precipitation has been lacking. That all changed this last Sunday when I could see the storm clouds gathering in the early afternoon. Part of the difference was the fact that the storm approached about 3 hours before they had been gathering lately, and part of it was the cloud structure, which was much more defined and solid. One of the cool things about tin roofs is that you can hear what is coming for a little bit before it arrives. The storm came in like a continuous crescendo of applause and once the rain showed up the wind picked up too. It got to the point where I was waiting outside to watch the tree that would inevitably fall, do so. I turned out to be correct, although it was only a large branch as opposed to the full tree this time, but I missed it because I was driven inside by the pea-sized hail (yes hail!) that was blown sideways compromising my porch as a shelter. Ever since that storm, we’ve had pouring rain every night, and even some showers during the day. It was clearly the beginning of the season which now looks to stay quite wet. Well, at least it feels like Tukuyu again!
I watched the movie Saving Private Ryan the other day for the first time. I’d wanted to see it ever since I remembered hearing Ian got to go see it in theatres when we were not even teenagers. I’d even seen some of the opening scene once, but never the entire movie. I have no idea if a World War II vet would consider that a good representation of the experience, but it moved me in a way few movies have in recent memory. I have levels of quality in my mind and often movies are good but do not get up to that highest rung, but this one certainly did. From the opening scene where the fronts of the boats open at Omaha Beach to greet a wave of bullets, I was filled with the feeling that I did not appreciate what that war meant to America and the world. We hear the words about how our soldiers are fighting in the name of freedom etc. in Afghanistan and Iraq but somehow, with all the disagreement on where we should be fighting and if we should still be there, the words lose their meaning. But to know that failure meant the conquest of pure evil in the world, the call to fight must have been undeniable. Yet, war in those days was so much different. Casualties were expected and you were happy with numbers lost in a battle that today are unacceptable in a war! Men went to fight, knowing it was likely they would die, and yet they did it anyway; literally for family, god, and country. I don’t think my generation can truly appreciate what war was for those fighting in WWII because I don’t think we think we equate war with such a high likelihood of death. Obviously today’s soldiers have to be willing to give their lives and indeed many have already given themselves mentally to the cause. But at least for me, “going off to war” doesn’t mean what it must have for the men in the 40s.
I think the other element of the movie that struck a chord with me was the camaraderie of the men in battle and dying for your fellow soldier. At the end of the movie, Tom Hanks’ character says to Matt Damon simply, “Earn this.” What an inescapable burden the survivors of that war must have felt from those they left behind on the battlefield. By some inexplicable roll of the dice, they were the ones that got to go home to their wives, girlfriends, and unborn generations that lived only because they did. I have never claimed to understand Post-traumatic Stress Disorder because I’m not sure what it could possibly feel like. But the moment where Private Ryan has grown to an old man and is begging for his wife to tell him he’s lived a good life, earning every life that was sacrificed to save his own on the battle field, I think I got a glimpse of what that burden must have been like to the survivors and how it could cause some to never recover. I’m not trying to say that from one movie I am suddenly privy to even a small portion of what that war did to America, but I think that movie did exactly what a great film does; it gave, if even for only a few moments, the sense of being in the experience and not behind a screen.
Given that today is December 7, I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you to every veteran that fought in World War II and every other veteran who has served to keep America and her people safe. And thank you to those who continue to do that duty today, especially my friends and family who are serving. I could not do what I am doing without your work.
The seasons are one thing that is changing, and rather rapidly, right now. It has looked like a storm several times and even spit rain while grumbling thunder, but until quite recently the actual precipitation has been lacking. That all changed this last Sunday when I could see the storm clouds gathering in the early afternoon. Part of the difference was the fact that the storm approached about 3 hours before they had been gathering lately, and part of it was the cloud structure, which was much more defined and solid. One of the cool things about tin roofs is that you can hear what is coming for a little bit before it arrives. The storm came in like a continuous crescendo of applause and once the rain showed up the wind picked up too. It got to the point where I was waiting outside to watch the tree that would inevitably fall, do so. I turned out to be correct, although it was only a large branch as opposed to the full tree this time, but I missed it because I was driven inside by the pea-sized hail (yes hail!) that was blown sideways compromising my porch as a shelter. Ever since that storm, we’ve had pouring rain every night, and even some showers during the day. It was clearly the beginning of the season which now looks to stay quite wet. Well, at least it feels like Tukuyu again!
I watched the movie Saving Private Ryan the other day for the first time. I’d wanted to see it ever since I remembered hearing Ian got to go see it in theatres when we were not even teenagers. I’d even seen some of the opening scene once, but never the entire movie. I have no idea if a World War II vet would consider that a good representation of the experience, but it moved me in a way few movies have in recent memory. I have levels of quality in my mind and often movies are good but do not get up to that highest rung, but this one certainly did. From the opening scene where the fronts of the boats open at Omaha Beach to greet a wave of bullets, I was filled with the feeling that I did not appreciate what that war meant to America and the world. We hear the words about how our soldiers are fighting in the name of freedom etc. in Afghanistan and Iraq but somehow, with all the disagreement on where we should be fighting and if we should still be there, the words lose their meaning. But to know that failure meant the conquest of pure evil in the world, the call to fight must have been undeniable. Yet, war in those days was so much different. Casualties were expected and you were happy with numbers lost in a battle that today are unacceptable in a war! Men went to fight, knowing it was likely they would die, and yet they did it anyway; literally for family, god, and country. I don’t think my generation can truly appreciate what war was for those fighting in WWII because I don’t think we think we equate war with such a high likelihood of death. Obviously today’s soldiers have to be willing to give their lives and indeed many have already given themselves mentally to the cause. But at least for me, “going off to war” doesn’t mean what it must have for the men in the 40s.
I think the other element of the movie that struck a chord with me was the camaraderie of the men in battle and dying for your fellow soldier. At the end of the movie, Tom Hanks’ character says to Matt Damon simply, “Earn this.” What an inescapable burden the survivors of that war must have felt from those they left behind on the battlefield. By some inexplicable roll of the dice, they were the ones that got to go home to their wives, girlfriends, and unborn generations that lived only because they did. I have never claimed to understand Post-traumatic Stress Disorder because I’m not sure what it could possibly feel like. But the moment where Private Ryan has grown to an old man and is begging for his wife to tell him he’s lived a good life, earning every life that was sacrificed to save his own on the battle field, I think I got a glimpse of what that burden must have been like to the survivors and how it could cause some to never recover. I’m not trying to say that from one movie I am suddenly privy to even a small portion of what that war did to America, but I think that movie did exactly what a great film does; it gave, if even for only a few moments, the sense of being in the experience and not behind a screen.
Given that today is December 7, I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you to every veteran that fought in World War II and every other veteran who has served to keep America and her people safe. And thank you to those who continue to do that duty today, especially my friends and family who are serving. I could not do what I am doing without your work.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
A Transit Tangent!
To those who have read my blog in the past you may have consistently come across a reference to a transit project that I have spent a significant amount of time designing. While it seems at times like a colossal waste of time given I live in Africa having limited contact with people who could identify the merits and faults of my proposal, it has been an enjoyable exercise and a good creative outlet. However, often my ideas aren’t finished until I’ve reached some sort of tangible ending point to the project. A few months ago, I put the idea into an actual document that I sent to be produced into a physical booklet (thank you Katie!) and sent to people who could indeed have an effect on it. I was rewarded with a thoughtful response by the director of Wichita Transit, giving me a look at the document they have chosen to guide them in the future.
However, I have since found an additional solution to my list of kinks to be worked out, which brings me here, in search of another end. So therefore, I’ll present the plan and its associated update.
I have been working on this idea in one form or another since my freshman year of college, when I realized that the city had an interesting situation in that in every direction from the city, towards every other town nearby, there were rail corridors in various states of use. Then, I further recognized that most every major destination had one of these corridors in close proximity to it. Over the course of the next few years I developed several iterations of my plan until settling on open-ended bus-rapid-transit (BRT) corridors as the best use of the facilities. I admit, some would require more significant construction than others, and the costs could be significant, but with a commitment to the project, other necessary improvements (that will be constructed without the system) could be modified to make the project even cheaper.
Anyway, the system is based around consolidating the current offerings of the Wichita Transit into branches of an effectively high-capacity corridor where service would be dramatically increased. In places where buses run on nearby streets, they would be consolidated to one corridor and timed to cut the wait time for the next bus in half. The further you travel from city center, the less frequent travel is on the transit corridor, as buses turn off to offer local service on various streets. In the center of town, this does shrink service coverage, but if the corridor offers truly frequent service, people will walk to take it. The other advantage, and biggest gain, of the system is an assistance of non-downtown-oriented trips. Since stations on the busway could be used as a transfer point, the rider could ride one bus to the transitway and then switch services to another destination without going downtown, as is required now.
The busways with the most potential boil down to four different routes. A northeast busway which follows abandoned railroad tracks from Washington, just north of Central, to Wesley hospital before turning north towards WSU, and then turning east to travel at roughly 17th street to Rock Road. A second busway would follow Southeast Blvd from its break off with Washington all the way to 47th Street South and the Oaklawn community. This could be constructed concurrently with an effort to raise the train tracks paralleling the boulevard by sacrificing lanes on a street that is redundant to Washington, Hydraulic, and I-135 in the north, and has sufficient space for additional lanes further south. The western branches both begin in Delano, just north of Douglas, then the southwest splits to follow the active railway past Friends and then branches off to travel along the southern side of Kellogg to the airport. The northwestern line would travel parallel to the rails heading northwest along Zoo Boulevard. Perhaps, with the construction of a rail connection between Maize and North Broadway, the railroad could be convinced to abandon the right-of-way and the transitways would require very little property acquisition. There are other potential corridors, including a southern transitway I included in phase three that follows the western edge of the river, however, these four are the foundation of the system.
The product being put together for Wichita Transit’s expansion, currently focuses on decreasing wait times and increasing transfer opportunities which is a necessary goal. However, the busway concept allows users to take advantage of potential redundancies closer to the region’s core as buses converge on the downtown area, all the while seeing more comfortable transfer facilities. Even initially at the start up, frequencies at transitways are often much better than 10 minutes between buses. The following is a diagram of my hypothetical build out after the second phase:
*Sorry for the crazy colors. I messed with it in Picasa to try to improve the contrast, but I really couldn't get it to look all that good.
However, I have since found an additional solution to my list of kinks to be worked out, which brings me here, in search of another end. So therefore, I’ll present the plan and its associated update.
I have been working on this idea in one form or another since my freshman year of college, when I realized that the city had an interesting situation in that in every direction from the city, towards every other town nearby, there were rail corridors in various states of use. Then, I further recognized that most every major destination had one of these corridors in close proximity to it. Over the course of the next few years I developed several iterations of my plan until settling on open-ended bus-rapid-transit (BRT) corridors as the best use of the facilities. I admit, some would require more significant construction than others, and the costs could be significant, but with a commitment to the project, other necessary improvements (that will be constructed without the system) could be modified to make the project even cheaper.
Anyway, the system is based around consolidating the current offerings of the Wichita Transit into branches of an effectively high-capacity corridor where service would be dramatically increased. In places where buses run on nearby streets, they would be consolidated to one corridor and timed to cut the wait time for the next bus in half. The further you travel from city center, the less frequent travel is on the transit corridor, as buses turn off to offer local service on various streets. In the center of town, this does shrink service coverage, but if the corridor offers truly frequent service, people will walk to take it. The other advantage, and biggest gain, of the system is an assistance of non-downtown-oriented trips. Since stations on the busway could be used as a transfer point, the rider could ride one bus to the transitway and then switch services to another destination without going downtown, as is required now.
The busways with the most potential boil down to four different routes. A northeast busway which follows abandoned railroad tracks from Washington, just north of Central, to Wesley hospital before turning north towards WSU, and then turning east to travel at roughly 17th street to Rock Road. A second busway would follow Southeast Blvd from its break off with Washington all the way to 47th Street South and the Oaklawn community. This could be constructed concurrently with an effort to raise the train tracks paralleling the boulevard by sacrificing lanes on a street that is redundant to Washington, Hydraulic, and I-135 in the north, and has sufficient space for additional lanes further south. The western branches both begin in Delano, just north of Douglas, then the southwest splits to follow the active railway past Friends and then branches off to travel along the southern side of Kellogg to the airport. The northwestern line would travel parallel to the rails heading northwest along Zoo Boulevard. Perhaps, with the construction of a rail connection between Maize and North Broadway, the railroad could be convinced to abandon the right-of-way and the transitways would require very little property acquisition. There are other potential corridors, including a southern transitway I included in phase three that follows the western edge of the river, however, these four are the foundation of the system.
The product being put together for Wichita Transit’s expansion, currently focuses on decreasing wait times and increasing transfer opportunities which is a necessary goal. However, the busway concept allows users to take advantage of potential redundancies closer to the region’s core as buses converge on the downtown area, all the while seeing more comfortable transfer facilities. Even initially at the start up, frequencies at transitways are often much better than 10 minutes between buses. The following is a diagram of my hypothetical build out after the second phase:
There are some obvious shortfalls of the suggestions and service does lack to some important parts of the city. I had to create a hypothetical implementation in order to effectively show the potential of my system and this is the map for one potential solution. Two places that would really require service that I have not served well are the manufacturing hubs of Hawker Beechcraft and Cessna Aircraft. I would also advocate better north-south connections on the near east side (Hillside and/or Oliver service). With this level of investment in the system, it would develop beyond one of basic mobility service to one riders could truly plan their day around.
The current plan for Wichita Transit is to significantly increase frequencies, in some cases to every 15 minutes. Since this is already under consideration for improved bus service, I adopted it into my proposal as well. Each line is upgraded to 15 minute service, which creates very busy transitways where over half the system stations have frequencies of 6 minutes or less!
That is the express version of the plan, which is all about focusing on serving a transit district completely, as opposed to trying to serve the entire region with basic mobility. I’m not sure if it would be possible in this economic climate, but Wichita Transit has suggested perhaps seeking a transit tax or some other increase in funds in order to fund their ambitious expansion. I would perhaps suggest defining the transit district and levying the tax on those individuals residing and businesses operating within it, and people living outside the district could vote on if they want more basic mobility based services, funded by a smaller tax. I find that system both more fair, and more likely to get passed. As the people who need it are the people in the core but also are often overruled when the suburban vote is added to the mix.
The gap at the center of the map where the busways seemingly end in the downtown area is the subject of my recent work. I have been bothered by that problem since I finished the project. I will admit the idea came from a fun little hypothetical redesign of the Union Station site as a redeveloped transit center with the expansion of the Heartland Flyer. Connecting it to the bus network was a priority and developed the idea of William as an exclusive transit corridor. During the inevitable upgrades required at the station, a connection would be built from the back of Union Station to the William Street corridor to allow transit vehicles to pass underneath the railroad tracks above. To the west, William Street becomes Water street after curving northward next to Century II and the busway could extend northward following Water and the abandoned railway it comes to join. The recent downtown master plan has identified that the downtown area has an excess of lanes, which I agree with whole heartedly. However, the suggestion of a Douglas St transit facility takes away lanes from the one place in downtown where they are actually at a shortage. With a few connections, using excess lanes on other streets, the William/Water bus facility could be connected to the busways radiating out from town. The following is my drawing of such designed facilities:
The current plan for Wichita Transit is to significantly increase frequencies, in some cases to every 15 minutes. Since this is already under consideration for improved bus service, I adopted it into my proposal as well. Each line is upgraded to 15 minute service, which creates very busy transitways where over half the system stations have frequencies of 6 minutes or less!
That is the express version of the plan, which is all about focusing on serving a transit district completely, as opposed to trying to serve the entire region with basic mobility. I’m not sure if it would be possible in this economic climate, but Wichita Transit has suggested perhaps seeking a transit tax or some other increase in funds in order to fund their ambitious expansion. I would perhaps suggest defining the transit district and levying the tax on those individuals residing and businesses operating within it, and people living outside the district could vote on if they want more basic mobility based services, funded by a smaller tax. I find that system both more fair, and more likely to get passed. As the people who need it are the people in the core but also are often overruled when the suburban vote is added to the mix.
The gap at the center of the map where the busways seemingly end in the downtown area is the subject of my recent work. I have been bothered by that problem since I finished the project. I will admit the idea came from a fun little hypothetical redesign of the Union Station site as a redeveloped transit center with the expansion of the Heartland Flyer. Connecting it to the bus network was a priority and developed the idea of William as an exclusive transit corridor. During the inevitable upgrades required at the station, a connection would be built from the back of Union Station to the William Street corridor to allow transit vehicles to pass underneath the railroad tracks above. To the west, William Street becomes Water street after curving northward next to Century II and the busway could extend northward following Water and the abandoned railway it comes to join. The recent downtown master plan has identified that the downtown area has an excess of lanes, which I agree with whole heartedly. However, the suggestion of a Douglas St transit facility takes away lanes from the one place in downtown where they are actually at a shortage. With a few connections, using excess lanes on other streets, the William/Water bus facility could be connected to the busways radiating out from town. The following is my drawing of such designed facilities:
The portion of Douglas between Water and the Delano district has a portion with 6 lanes, in front of Century II and 4 lanes across the river connecting to a two lane portion through Delano. Taking two lanes from each section should not significantly impair the traffic flow on the street, as it is simply moves the funnel east to near the Waco/Douglas intersection. The southeast busway would be accessed by converting one of the side-streets west of Washington into a transitway to connect to the back of Union Station and the northeast busway could connect to the William/Water transitway through dedicated lanes on Murdock St. A future redesign of Washington Street for service as both a street and transit facility could create Wichita’s own version of the loop, connecting all the major downtown facilities.
Implementing this also creates the potential for several transit oriented developments with a focus on residential (near Cleveland/Central), office and light industry (near Washington/Kellogg), or shopping (west of Delano). While the focus at this time should be the true core of the city, success of such a transit system could feed the need for additional transit focused space to be developed in the areas immediately surrounding the downtown core.
Another aspect of the design that I really like is the attempt to make downtown truly a multimodal travel center with the introduction of full bicycle facilities. Blue lines on the map represent fully separated bike paths, and dashed blue lines represent prominent bike lanes. With these facilities, the entire area from I-135 to the river and from Lincoln to Murdock would be bicycle friendly. With the improvements in walkability being promoted downtown, it would create a truly multimodal hub with walking, biking, potentially intercity rail, and transit given a significant presence, although I will not say equal footing, compared to cars. The first street corridor could be designed to look something like this:
Implementing this also creates the potential for several transit oriented developments with a focus on residential (near Cleveland/Central), office and light industry (near Washington/Kellogg), or shopping (west of Delano). While the focus at this time should be the true core of the city, success of such a transit system could feed the need for additional transit focused space to be developed in the areas immediately surrounding the downtown core.
Another aspect of the design that I really like is the attempt to make downtown truly a multimodal travel center with the introduction of full bicycle facilities. Blue lines on the map represent fully separated bike paths, and dashed blue lines represent prominent bike lanes. With these facilities, the entire area from I-135 to the river and from Lincoln to Murdock would be bicycle friendly. With the improvements in walkability being promoted downtown, it would create a truly multimodal hub with walking, biking, potentially intercity rail, and transit given a significant presence, although I will not say equal footing, compared to cars. The first street corridor could be designed to look something like this:
Tired yet? I have one more thing :P When I made my proposal, I based it on population and income distribution data from more than a decade ago. The recently released Wichita Transit Plan has a section showing the population and employment densities for 2008 of the Wichita Metro Area. I combined them into a product that suggested transit suitability, as follows below:
*Sorry for the crazy colors. I messed with it in Picasa to try to improve the contrast, but I really couldn't get it to look all that good.I have drawn on the Phase 2 build out of my transit system for reference. I think it does a pretty good job of hitting the biggest concentrations of high transit potential. The pink dot (highest score) just northwest of downtown would be near a transit stop built at Murdock and Waco. However, the other pink dot, between Lincoln and Harry on Oliver, is not served directly by a busway. It does make an interesting case for bus lanes on Harry street between Southeast Blvd. and Rock Road however, and I wonder if the Wichita Transit officials have considered that when advocating a BRT-light system for Douglas between the shopping malls. The map also demonstrates there may be potential for express buses to Andover and Derby then local service within their respective city limits.
And there you have it: my official update. It’s not perfect, and it would require significant investment, in both time and money, from the city. But I think it would start to develop a system that promotes non-automobile orienting living. A denser city is a cheaper one to supply basic infrastructure to so from an economic standpoint as well as an cheaper on to live in, especially if the price of gas starts to climb again. I think it's in the city's best interest to be actively seeking things that support enhanced density.
Hopefully I was reasonably articulate. It’s easy to see to see my maps and know all my ideas but not always simple to put those into words. Please feel free to comment and question the idea below! And if you’re still reading, thanks so much for actually considering it all!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
