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I shook hands with a guy who shook hands with the guy who shook hands with the devil

I am a boy hiding under a desk in a nuclear war.
I am looking down, walking through traffic.
I am a 4 year old’s question.
I am a writer’s block on a tight deadline.
I am the sideline on an in-bound call.
I am a chess match.
I am a split horizon between night and day.
I am a photograph, stuck in time.
I am searching for Carmen Sandiego.
I am a tug rope at the office pic-nic.
I am digging for a creative well.

One could say that I’ve been busy. In truth, I simply haven’t taken the time to sit down and write my impressions, especially of la fête de tabaski. Now, I’m afraid I will lose them.

At 9am, every mosque is filled to capacity by men who will then return home to sacrifice a sheep to Allah. This is done to thank Allah for sparing Abraham’s only son’s life when he was willing to sacrifice him. Well, if you’re wondering, I am not a sheep killer. My colleague Tounkara came to pick me up right after the prayers were finished at the mosque. I may not have killed a sheep but, from my apartment to his family’s house, I sure saw enough of them hanging from tree branches and being butchered.

Once slaughtered, the sheep is dissected by the men of the family. They work meticulously until each edible part is passed onto the women. It is now their turn to each prepare the meat in a different way. One could call this the Malian version of a “cook-off”.

After there was nothing left of the sheep, I wish I could say that there were exciting rituals of song and dance. However, the rest of the day consists of 2 activities: eating and resting. Just when the button of my pants popped, I’m told it’s time to visit some friends and family… where more sheep meat awaits.

As for the social side of these festivities, I can put it simply by saying that I now have an adopted family here in Bamako. Tounkara’s family, probably without realizing it, showed me why this is, for me, the most human place on Earth.

We now fast forward to December 24th, where I’m with the MFC Director Ibrahim, his wife (my supervisor) Johanna and their two daughters, Batoma and Sira. We celebrate Christmas with a succulent meal followed by the presents. The next day was much less quiet since Ibrahim invited about 20 family members to do what people here do best during the holidays, eat.

I can honestly say that I haven’t been homesick during these past few weeks, as everyone is spending time with their respective families. That, I think, is a testament to the family and friends I have made here (without forgetting my own of course!).

On a slightly different note, I can proudly say that I shook hands with a guy who shook hands with the guy who shook hands with the devil. Confused? My friend Adama recently took me out in a village called Kati, 15 km outside of Bamako, to spend the afternoon with some of his family. He introduced me to them one by one and last but not least was his uncle, “le colonel”. As I took a seat beside Le colonel, he quickly found out my nationality and proudly said that he served Lt. Gen. (Ret) Roméo Dallaire in Rwanda for 6 months. He was the leader of the Rapid Response Team that was directly under Dallaire’s command. Umm… words to explain this… wow?...

These things never happen with any warning or time to prepare the thousand questions that are floating in your mind. Just before I was able to grab a few of those questions, Le colonel politely asked me my age. Only men of 50 years or more were “allowed” to sit in this area so he kindly thanked me for coming to visit. Adama and I then went to have some tea and a delicious lunch with our demographic.

The following night, I went out with Tounkara and his friend, “le petit commandant”. Based on these two encounters, I’m convinced nobody in the Malian Military actually has a name. Le petit commandant is indeed a short man, but that didn’t stop him from spending a year in Darfur with the African Union forces. He recently returned in mid-November and, unlike my meeting with Le colonel, I had the chance to pick his brain. It’s the kind of experience you never really imagine because all of a sudden, a conflict that seemed so distant – physically and metaphorically – has a face to it.

So what’s next? I think I can only hope to, one day, shake hands with the guy who shook hands with God. His name is .

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Sheep and mango trees

“Did you realize there was a live sheep in the trunk?” That’s a question I never, in my right mind, thought I would ever ask someone but alas, the man sharing a taxi with me (and another MFC intern) proved me wrong. There are sheep everywhere. Dozens lie on top of buses. Others sit, tied to a pole while counting down their last days. Most people in Mali are muslim and therefore, preparing for the fête de tabaski where they will savour some sheep in large families.

A colleague has invited me to spend this holiday with him and his family and I told him it would be an honour to join them. I guess you could say that the turkey is going to look a little different this year…

It has been the first sign that the holidays are coming. No Santa Claus paraphernalia at every street corner. No decorations coming out November 1st. And certainly no pressure to empty bank accounts on scented candles and power tools. In fact, the thought of the holidays hadn’t even crossed my mind until last week when I got an email from my parents asking me what I wanted for Christmas. Would it be too much to ask for every child in Mali to get an education and a full stomach?

I’m currently reading The End of Poverty by Jeffrey Sachs and it has been difficult at times, especially when he discusses how easily malaria can be mitigated in Sub-Saharan Africa by distributing bed nets and anti-malarial medicine. You can’t find a bed net anywhere in Garalo, either in a house or a store. Colleagues at work sometimes seem to disappear for about a week and every time I ask, the answer is what I fear: malaria.

It’s probably too late to suggest this as most of this blog’s readership have probably finished their shopping but I want to throw it out there in your consciences anyway. Consider making a donation on behalf of a friend, brother, sister, cousin, neighbourhood barber, yodelling teacher, local 7-11 clerk, father, mother and/or step-(all of the above). If you don’t know where to start, here are some places:

One Sky
Amnesty International
UNICEF

If you are worried about the way your money will be used, I suggest One Sky’s Sowing A Seed program as 80% of it goes directly to buying school supplies (the other 20% is for administration costs to keep the program viable). If I’ve won you over with the bed nets in Garalo example, send me an email and we can figure out a way to get some there.

As sheep replace turkeys and mango trees replace Christmas trees, my thoughts will be with all of you back home. Joyeux Noël et Bonne année à tous.

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The Bottomless Oil Well

If the village of Garalo and the work of Mali-Folkcenter Nyetaa are a sign of things to come for rural Africa, the future is bright. My latest journey to this rural village in the south of Mali began when I was asked to accompany a Dutch engineer, Sander, and a masters student (Inge) because they were in need of an interpretor. They were leaving the next day for what became a 6 day trip; this is what I have come to expect while working here... Plan A's don't really serve a purpose.

There is no doubt in my mind that MFC Nyetaa and the villagers of Garalo are going down in the record books. The electric current in Garalo was generated for the first time from vegetable oil in what has become the largest bio-fuel electrification project in Africa. The 125 Kva generator – one of three at the power plant – that feeds electricity into over 170 homes gives light, refrigeration and security to about 4,700 people.

And I was there to witness it.

The scale of this project is overwhelming when you walk around the village at night or see the sheer size of the generator running. Through my role as an interpretor, I was lucky enough to better understand the mechanics of both, even down to specific details like the piston pressure adjustments required to switch to bio-fuel. This was mostly thanks to Sander, the engineer who installed the generator sets last May. He began working on ships at the age of 17 as an apprentice until he became chief engineer a decade or so later. Having now started his own company, Brodtech, he has installed generator sets not only in Mali but also Tanzania, with many more on the horizon and has done so at one third of the price other companies had quoted because, as he told me, he just wants enough money to put bread on the table.

Two of my days were spent accompanying Inge while she surveyed about 35 households, mainly through the family chiefs. Her research looks into consumer use of energy in terms of appliances currently used and potential ones in the future to determine how much the grid could handle. Most interviews were done through a translation train starting from english, to french, to bambara and back the other way again. After that experience, I've realized that a message is initially so fragile when being transmitted through a roller-coaster of interpretation. The ride gets even bumpier when the message is only understood by engineers or mechanics, both of which I certainly am not.

The interviews gave me a much better understanding of the villagers' opinion of this newfound access to electricity. Some people, mostly the less fortunate living off their land, found the monthly fee of 6,500 CFA Francs (about 14$ cdn) too much for their budgets. They were collectively asking to change from a monthly fee system to a meter-based system where you pay for what you consume.

If only it were that easy...

In order for this whole project to be sustainable, it was decided that a private company (ACCESS) founded by the Mali-Folkecenter Nyetaa would be responsible for the operation of the power plant. Currently, ACCESS barely makes any profit, only enough to continue growing. They have explained to their customers that as the number of total subscribers increases, they will be provided with longer hours of operation (it's currently 5 hours every night but they are about 20 new customers away from being able to offer 6 or 7 hours nightly) and perhaps be able to switch to a meter-based system. Without having to delve back too far into my managerial economics courses (I still get shivers when I hear someone say "marginal cost"), the simple explanation is that there is a base cost (fuel, salaries,etc) that ACCESS needs to cover and this meter-based system, combined with an insufficient base of subcsribers, would cause immediate losses.

This is where the debate of economic development to eradicate poverty begins... but I will leave it there because it's one where I am sitting on the fence.

Jatropha crops are growing and people will soon be able to sell them in exchange for some extra income that could potentially go towards paying these seemingly pricey electricity bills. One villager described jatropha as being their bottomless oil well. If this cycle does become sustainable, the future looks bright in terms of access to electricity for rural Mali and perhaps all of rural Africa.

I'd like to end this post by welcoming "Monsieur P" as a contributor to this blog. If his next posts are as humourous and insightful as his first, we are in for a real treat.

Sugar and cucumbers

To reminisce,


Things can go from bad to worse, but it's best not to think that way. After having lost keys to a secondary school, my weekend couldn't get any better. This blog isn't to complain about that situation, but rather to remind me, and all of us, to just stick with it.

Comically, depression was setting in as a dreaded confrontation with a strict straight-as-an-arrow principal was on the horizon. How to explain incompetence...hmm. Only about a thousand prepared excuses could do the job. After having visited all my past visited locations, in a 50cm snowstorm I might add, I decided to just let time pass until the inevitable confession of the loss. (By the way, those keys cannot fall into the wrong hands). Since cooking is my favorite thing to do, making stuffed zucchini should have worked beautifully. However, I would suggest never mistaking a cucumber for a zucchini, you won't go far. But hope was not lost. Let's put salt on those cucumbers, and relax yet again. Now. I'm not sure how things go in Iran, but if my very foreign roommate put the sugar in the salt shaker, he sure managed to confuse the hell out of me. Sweetened cucumbers taste brutal by the way. Try that Monday on for size. Miraculously, Tuesday, someone had brought a random set of keys to the school office. I think it was Jesus.

Chapeaux

Interprète

On a encore ajouté un nouvel élément à mon gabarit d'homme à tout faire. Je quitte encore une fois pour Garalo demain mais cette fois-ci, non comme photographe et journaliste mais plutôt avec mon chapeau d'interprète. Les génératrices de la centrale électrique à Garalo ont été importé des Pays-Bas et l'ingénieur-en-chef de cette phase du projet est de retour pour 2 semaines. Puisqu'il ne comprend pas très bien le français, je l'accompagne pour les quelques jours pour jouer au jeu de téléphone. Il est fort probable qu'à certains moments, il y aura un employé à la centrale qui agira comme interprète du Bambara au Français donc il faut espérer que le message traverse les haies de la langue.

Stratégiste

Les deux dernières semaines ont été acharnu puisque mes tâches de design de matériaux de communication ont cédés leurs places pour la rédaction d'une stratégie de communication. Il s'agit de la première fois que le MFC entreprend une telle tâche donc le défi se présente aussi comme une opportunité. Je suis imprégné dans le pratique. En fait, c'est une lacune sur laquelle je cherche toujours à m'améliorer. Ce nouveau chapeau de stratégiste semble un peu trop grand pour le moment mais je cherche à le faire rétrécir.

Colocataire

La délégation néerlandaise comprend aussi une consultante qui va passer 3 semaines à Bamako. Le Mali Folkcenter Nyetaa (c'est le nom officiel donc je vais l'utiliser à partir de maintenant) appartient deux apartements: celui où j'habite et un autre dans le même cartier. Puisque cette consultante va aménager avec moi pour les 3 prochaines semaines, on a décidé que ce serait mieux de s'installer dans l'autre apartement puisqu'il est beaucoup plus grand. J'ai vraiment hésité puisque mes racines commençaient à bien creuser cette terre; c'est aussi à cause que ma formation avec One Sky était surtout axée sur l'épanouissement en dehors de sa zone de confort et je crains être trop confortable. Il s'agit peut-être d'une opportunité pour découvrir différents moyens d'éviter le sentiment d'être isoler. Vous allez tous comprendre dès que j'ai la chance de prendre quelques photos.

Bon, c'est quel chapeau que je vais porter aujourd'hui...

Va-dont jouer dehors!!

It's Sunday afternoon and, like every weekend, I feel like I should spend it "playing outside". This feeling surely derives from my upbringing where sunny days needed to be enjoyed to their full potential; if it's nice out then you have no reason to stay indoors!

Bamako, as one can imagine, presents a dilemma because every day is the equivalent of a "nice day": clear skies and mid-30's.

I write about the weather because it leads me to a deeper introspection. Am I "playing outside" enough? Am I experiencing Bamako and Mali to its full potential? To this point, it feels like I am living comfortably in terms of how much I play outside but there is this nagging voice telling me it's not enough.

No longer being in the honeymoon phase of cameras incessantly clicking and eyes never blinking, routine takes over. There is a task before me and I will experience the country and culture through it. The fear of never doing enough comes from the inflated expectations at the onset of departure.

I am here in Bamako for 5 months and that in itself is a sufficient experience for most. I am learning Bambara. I am playing football regularly (a post on this is coming soon). I will learn to play the djembe drum. I have and will be visiting rural communities. I am writing regularly both to friends and family but also for myself. I am playing PES6 (a football video game) with local neighbourhood kids. I am educating kids back in Canada. I am growing roots.

My intention is not to flaunt but rather to share experiences because I realize that I will have as much an impact, if not more, on friends, family and surrounding circles than I will in my work here. Perceptions desperately need to change and that won't be done waiting for CNN to take the initiative. It is done through telling stories and breaking myths that this is a place where only poverty and disease thrive. This is a place where people are taking charge and perspectives are shifting as we speak. I say this not to undermine the many gruesome challenges that people face every day (especially in rural Mali, amongst the poorest places in the world) but rather to shed light to an overlooked reality. Everybody is aware of the challenges but what about the innovative approaches to take that first step on the ladder of development (ok so I'm reading "The End of Poverty", can you tell?).

My friend Daouda, as he was driving me home on his motorcycle, unexpectedly brought up this topic of development; I say unexpectedly because he's a football player and we never had a discussion on this before. He made the point that they are playing catch-up with the rest of the world after only gaining independence in 1961. That said, they are severely handicapped in this game mainly because they have practically nothing but their fields of sourghum and gold mines to put on the table.

I think I hear my mom calling me all the way back in Canada during my childhood. It's time I go outside and play my part in this game of catch-up.

Trolls, Pogs and Marbles

From my friend Bruno, trying to keep me up to speed on latest trends:

"Here is an instructional video on how to perform the latest hip hop tribal dance being emulated constantly by my students and most likely all people in that age group all over North America. It's in actual fact probably the worse song ever put together by an IBM over a weekend, and thus is capturing feeble minds everywhere. Voilà,



Rant completed by this:

I think there are more people who know how to do this dance world wide, than there are people who can perform CPR ; just a passing thought."

My personal favourite has got to be the Superman part just because I can imagine a whole gym full of kids simultaneously emulating flight. It could also easily be turned into the "Mario Bros Swim" if ever Soulja Boy became Frog Boy.

Just when I feel like saying something like "what has this world come to?", I am reminded of this:



... and I realize we were no better.

It's Always Sunny in Bamako

Since my internship began back in Smithers with One Sky, I feel like I am contributing to something good and that my work has an intrinsic value that could not be found within cubicle walls. What may seem as being easy for me, whether it's translating a document or formatting a picture, is considered to be of great value to others.

If life here is a couch, I just went from sitting hesitantly on the edge to lounging back like I know it's going to be a really long movie and a while before I get back up. The routine is slowly taking shape, the initial feeling of wanting to document every single moment and thought is dissipating. It's sunny in Bamako, and I brought my sunglasses.

Le boulot

Days go by quickly, especially when I'm asked to do something by two days ago. I'm in a constant struggle to focus on work rather than turn to the world wide web's panoply of toys, which I have always been so accustomed to having practically around the clock. I must admit that it's nice to come home to a TV (with 3 channels!), many books and, of course, my guitar.

The Prophet

A friend passed me a book called "The Biography of the Prophet" by Karen Armstrong before I left. This is a fascinating story of arguably one of the most influential persons to have ever lived. I will comment on this further once I am finished the book but for now, if you are interested in understanding Islam beyond CNN and Wikipedia, pick it up at a bookstore near you.

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R.I.P. iPod (2003-2007)

My iPod died at 2132 hours yesterday, November 5, 2007; the cause of death is unknown. Although it may seem unlikely, I suspect One Sky is making an inter-continental attempt to once again bring me out of my comfort zone. When doing a workshop on personal ecology, I expressed the fact that music is, and has always been, my coping mechanism for stress. One could say that One Sky has made me a sceptic for life when it comes to ironic and/or unfortunate events and it will always make me laugh inside.

That said, on with more important things…

Projet Yèrè Yiriwa

Mali was among the first countries in West Africa to undertake a vast decentralization process for political power. Local governments now have a much greater responsibility to assure a sustainable economic, political and social development. In fact, rural commune governments now receive 80% of tax revenues are distributed directly to them. Evidently, their budgets have also grown tremendously even if only 20% of elected leaders are entirely literate.

Herein lies the context where Projet Yèrè Yiriwa looks to act as a catalyst for sustainable development from the ground up. Each village must identify 10 revenue-generating activities and then prioritize them. Sectors, consisting of 4 to 5 villages, will then go through the same process.

In order for each village to be fairly represented, 5 delegates are assigned for the Projet Yèrè Yiriwa group consultations: the elected leader, the men’s “animateur”, the women’s “animatrice”, a youth representative as well as a women’s representative. The “animateur” and “animatrice” have both received training by the Yèrè Yiriwa coordinators on techniques to mobilize their community and are very much local champions of the project. After the group consultation, they will return to their communities and relay the messages and lessons learned from the Yèrè Yiriwa team.

It was at these consultations that the Yèrè Yiriwa team explained, for example, the benefits that their paying income taxes can bring. Since becoming a democracy in 1992, I am told that Malians – mainly in rural areas – expect the economic and social benefits to automatically come to them. They have been unable to see the link between income tax revenue and new roads or hospitals, to the point where they complain about a lack of essential services from the State. Projet Yèrè Yiriwa therefore looks to establish a clear link in order to show each and every person how their voice can be heard as well as how they can contribute to this development.

Youth are also encouraged to stay in their respective villages instead of moving to urban centres like Bamako. The prioritization of revenue-generating activities aims to show them the bright horizon for the development of their village and how they can play an important part in it.

After having attended 3 group consultations in the villages of Kodiougou, Sôrôna and Garalo, it is apparent that many challenges lie ahead, the biggest one being proximity. Many of these villages are isolated by 10 or 20 km from each other and the roads are in terrible condition. Therefore, it becomes very difficult for the delegates to find transportation or fuel for the trip. In fact, the first consultation I attended was delayed for more than 3 hours because we had to wait for every village to be represented. It was fascinating for a time-is-money-Westerner to observe the infinite patience of the people, even if they were sacrificing an entire day of harvesting their fields or tending to their daily chores. Patience is definitely an abundant commodity in Mali.

It is thanks to the people’s firm belief in Projet Yèrè Yiriwa that the horizon shines a bit brighter than before. You can even see it in their faces when members of the Yèrè Yiriwa team, like Monsieur Ibrahim Togola, speak of concrete power and personal value that each person detains as players on this field of democracy. One can almost feel the earth tremble from people getting up to make their voices heard as they take momentous steps forward.

"Le rêve est devenu réel"

« Le rêve est devenu réel » dit un chef de famille lorsque je lui demande comment l’accès à l’électricité a changé la vie des villageois de Garalo, une communauté rurale du Mali. À l’aide d’un interprète en Bambara, il m’explique que les bénéfices sont nombreux : (i) on peut maintenant garder des médicaments essentiels réfrigérés; (ii) les enfants peuvent étudier en soirée lorsqu’ils ont plus de temps libre; (iii) l’hôpital a maintenant un bloc opérationnel et l’on espère un jour qu’il soit fonctionnel pendant 24 heures; (iv) et l’on peut aussi faire du pain beaucoup plus nutritionnel.

Le 3e point est important à cause de l’emplacement géographique puisque Garalo est situé à plus de 2 heures de route de Bougouni où l’on y retrouve un hôpital. La route est tellement trouée que le trajet pourrait aggraver la condition d’un patient.

La réponse du chef dura pour plus que 5 minutes et je ne devais même pas attendre pour la traduction afin de comprendre que l’impacte est comparable à un miracle; surtout que les gens le croyait fou lorsque Mamadou Moulin Kané a dit aux gens du village qu’il allait électrifier le village.

La centrale, énergisée par le pourghère cultivé dans le village, produit un courant pendant 3 heures chaque soir après le coucher de soleil. Ce qui paraît minime pour l’Occident est, en réalité, une source de vie pour les habitants de Garalo au point même où les enfants crient de joie lorsque les lumières s’allument chaque soir. On me dit qu’on prit le soir avant de se coucher afin de remercier le courage des employés du MFC ainsi que ACCESS, l’entreprise privée qui entreprend l’opération et le maintien de la centrale ainsi que son réseau.

Malgré leur manque d’éducation formelle, les gens comprennent très bien le lien entre le pourghère qu’ils cultivent et les lumières et téléviseurs qui s’allument le soir. Ils disent faire tout leur possible pour aider au développement de la centrale ainsi que le stock de pourghère.

Une de mes premières questions fût : pourquoi on a choisi à Garalo?

En 1999, le directeur du Mali Folkecenter, Ibrahim Togola, avait une rencontre avec le directeur du Ministre d’Hydrologie lorsqu’un homme interrompu pour demander au directeur ce dont il pouvait faire pour électrifier son village. C’était donc par pur hasard que la référence s’est fait avec M. Togola, qui a été intéressé dès le début à élargir les horizons du MFC, spécialisé auparavant qu’en énergie solaire et éolienne. Cet homme était Mamadou Moulin Kané, un résident de Garalo qui était le premier à rêver de voir les domiciles de Garalo illuminé la nuit. Il a persisté chaque jour pendant des années à rappeler le directeur Togola du projet et parfois même en personne puisqu’il était dans les environs ce jour-là (même si Garalo est à plus que 200 km et 4 heures de route). On peut vraiment dire que c’est grâce à lui que les habitants de Garalo profitent d’électricité durable qui sert aussi de catalyseur de développement de la région.

90's Flowchart

Pema's Insight

"to be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest; to live fully is to be always in no man's land, to experience each moment as completely new and fresh"

The Malian Context

The following text is quoted directly from the Mali Folkecenter website but I thought summed it up rather well:

Geography

Mali is a vast landlocked republic located in West Africa. It is located in the heart of the Sahel, a region threatened by drought and desertification. It lies between Mauritania to its west and Niger to its east. The northern 65% of its land area is desert or semi-desert, and the vast majority of the population are directly dependent on their environment (herding, farming or fishing) for their livelihoods. The capital city is Bamako. Other major towns are Sikasso, Segou, Mopti, Timbuktu, Gao and Kayes. There are 8 administrative divisions or regions (see figure 1 below):, Kayes, , Koulikoro, Sikasso, Segou, Mopti, Tombouctou, Gao and Kidal. The country is further subdivided into 703 rural communes (communes). Its population, growing at a high annual rate of 3 percent, is approximately 12 million people. The national territory extends over 1 241 000 km².

Statistics

Mali’s Human Development Index ranking is 164 out of a total of 173 countries. It has a population of 12 million, over 70% of whom live below the poverty line of $1 a day. Life expectancy at birth is 51.5 years. Infant mortality is 142 (per 1,000 live births). The adult literacy rate is 41.5% (48.9% for men, 34.4% for women), and the average number of children born per woman is 7. HIV/AIDS exposure is increasing. (Statistics: UNDP Human Development Report 2002).

The population is mostly made up of subsistence farmers living in villages of 500-2000 people. Around 15-30 villages make up one commune, 20-50 communes make up a district, and around 4-7 districts make a region. There are 8 regions in Mali. Farmers rely on agriculture for their livelihoods, growing cereals for food and often cotton as a cash crop for export. In rural areas 80% of energy needs are met by firewood and charcoal, and people use kerosene lamps and torches for lighting. This does not include, of course, animal and manpower, which is tiring and time consuming. Rechargeable car batteries are also used for lighting, TV and radio, and a very small minority of people have solar panels or a generator. In rural areas, modern energy services, particularly productive (i.e. income generating) uses are very limited, making efforts to stimulate local economic development difficult.

Energy situation in Mali

Less than 12% of the population has access to formal electricity services, and the majority of these are in the capital Bamako and the principal towns. For rural areas, home to more than 60% of the population, less than 1% has access to electricity. Opportunities for substantially improving the health and qualify of life, longevity, and infant mortality rates for the country are hampered by the lack of reliable electricity and energy services throughout most of the country.

Supply possibilities

Mali has no fossil energy resources, meaning that fossil fuels must be imported from the coast at considerable cost. This means that generating costs for grid electricity are generally around twice as high as Cote d’Ivoire for example, but Mali is significantly poorer as a country. Much of Mali’s hard earned foreign currency is lost on fossil fuel imports, as there is heavy dependence on imported petroleum products that represents about 8 % of the national energy balance, weighing heavily on the foreign exchange and trade balance of the country (more than 100 million USD in 2000, and 75 million USD in 1998). However, in terms of Renewable Energy Sources, Mali is rich in solar, hydro, biomass and, in some parts of the country, wind. There are few places on earth with a better solar resource, with 5-6 standard sun hours per day.

Decentralisation

Mali has been democratic since 1991, and is often held up as a model for other emerging West African democracies. Mali has been among the first countries in West Africa to undergo a pioneering decentralisation process that is moving decision making power away from the central government to the regions, districts and above all to the communes, bringing essential decisions closer to the communities most affected by their outcomes, in order to improve governance and increase democratisation. All the administration, local development policy and programmes are in the hands of the commune members who are elected for five year terms. The communes are now responsible for prioritising their needs and writing their own Communal Development Plans, which are the basis for all development activities in the communes.

Rural Exodus – draining communities of young talent

In rural areas 90% of the population are engaged in farming, which takes up nearly all of people’s time for 5-6 months of the year. But during the 6-7 month dry season, young people, feeling that opportunity is lacking in the villages, move to the cities to find work. Every year, some of them stay on to live there. This rural depopulation is increasing every year, and besides reducing the human resource base of the villages, with an important and dynamic section of the community leaving, it contributes to overcrowding, crime, delinquency, drug problems, prostitution and AIDS in Malian cities, particularly Bamako. It is more cost effective to prevent this rural exodus than to try to treat its symptoms: the integration of these young people into the cities is more difficult and expensive than the improvement of their living conditions in rural areas. The rural exodus is a real danger today, not only for these villages but for the whole country, threatening the government's decentralisation policy.

For example, the infant mortality rate is extremely high, at 123 deaths per 1,000 live births (2000 est., UN HDI) Life expectancy at birth for the total population is barely 47 years. The total fertility rate is almost seven children born/woman (2000 est.). Many of these children never reach their fifth birthday. It is clear that there is a profound need for substantially improved health services in Mali, and electrification of rural health centres can contribute substantially to overall improvement in life expectancy and infant mortality rates.

Literacy, defined as the percentage of the population age 15 and over that can read and write, is only 31% for the total population. It is 39.4% for men and only 23.1% (1995 est., UN HDI) for women. Substantial increases in the levels of social and economic development will require greater and more extensive education, as well as dramatic improvements in health, from the prenatal period through adult life. Electrification of schools to allow evening education will be an essential dimension of improved education for the entire population as the adults, especially women, are very occupied in the day time, so at the evening it is more easy to get to school if there is lighting there.

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Africa Africa

Toubabou. That is what they call me in Bambara and it means “homme blanc”.

The Flights

It didn’t take long to get acquainted with my seat partner on the plane leaving from Montreal because he was also going to Bamako, but to work for a Canadian mining company in the East of Mali. He has been working there for about 18 months with a pretty nice routine: 2 months of work, 1 month off at home. It was quickly apparent, however, that we were there for different reasons and in different capacities but I did not let that affect my impressions of him.

The flight from Paris to Bamako was delayed for about an hour because there were 3 Malians being deported back to Mali and they were cuffed at the ankles and the wrists, something the other Malians in the plane did not appreciate. They certainly vocalized their opinion, which quickly grew into a shouting match on the plane where the police came onboard and intervened by taking off the 3 “prisoners”. The unfortunate thing is that, had the other Malians been quiet, these refugees would have returned home instead of spending another few nights in prison. That said, sometimes a person’s convictions outweigh any logic and there is certainly honour in that.

The Arrival

It felt like a heavy, musky wall of heat as soon as I stepped off the plane. Passing through customs was very easy and the challenge lied more in grabbing my luggage from the belt and passing through security. As soon I stepped out of the airport there was a crowd of people and I missed my “Benoît Rivard – MFC” sign. After about 2 seconds of panic, I found a phone booth where I made a few phone calls and found the MFC driver that had come to get me.

The first night was spent at Johanna and Ibrahim’s house (my supervisor and the MFC director, respectively). It’s a beautiful home in a not so beautiful setting; of course this is basing “beauty” on a completely different set of standards. The next morning I met their 2 gorgeous little daughters Batoma and Sari (I think those are their names, not 100% sure). Batoma is 4 and already speaks 3 languages: Finnish (Johanna is from Finland), Bambara and French. It becomes quite humbling when a 4 year old is translating what her 2 year old sister is saying to you because she only speaks Bambara and Finnish.

Mali Folkecenter

Yesterday was my first day at work and my first impressions were of amazement at how much the MFC is doing simultaneously. I won’t go into detail on their projects because their website already describes most of it but one project worth mentioning is how they have developed and installed a power plant that runs on jatropha oil. It feeds electricity to a village of over 4,000 people so this is no run-of-the-mill bio-diesel generator. I will eventually make a field trip with some of the staff to take pictures and write about this project so more details will follow in the next few months.

The MFC office has wireless internet so I will be able to stay “connected” to a certain degree so feel free to send me an email if you have questions that I am not answering in my posts.

Varia

It is always hot, day and night. People drive with about a 2 inch buffer zone between cars or motorcycles. The local neighbourhood kids have already come to see me about 5 times in 2 days, one of them is called Bogaah. I am sharing my living accommodations with a family of lizards. Nobody speaks French in the market, only Bambara. All the vegetables are miniature compared to what we are used to eating. Bamako feels like a maze of identical streets and main roads; reference points are your lifelines. I am having a lot of difficulty remembering people’s names at the office. I have yet to play my guitar so I will go do that now.

I have posted the pictures I’ve taken so far on my flickr page (link in the side bar) but there aren’t many of the city itself because apparently the police will confiscate your camera if they catch you taking pictures.

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Il est temps de partir

Ce fût une semaine étrange.  Une semaine de rattrapage ainsi que d'efforts de clairvoyance.  Comment se préparer pour un monde tellement inconnu?  On pourrait presque jouer le jeu où tous les gens d'un groupe doivent choisir un objet à apporter sur une île déserte; voilà mon sentiment.

C'est quand même évident que je ne puisse pas être entièrement équipé de tous ce qui sera essentiel.  Comme de raison, je vais oublier quelque chose... il suffit tout simplement que ce ne soit pas mon passeport!  Ou peut-être même l'idée que je vais au Mali pour changer le monde.  Mes intentions ont changé depuis le début de mon stage puisque maintenant je me considère plutôt comment étant un observateur, un étudiant, une éponge.  De cette façon, j'espère ne pas être trop découragé par l'omniprésence de pauvreté qui va sûrement me toucher au coeur.

Ce fût une semaine étrange.  Une semaine où je dis au revoir non seulement à mes ami(e)s et ma famille mais aussi à moi-même, sachant qu'une aventure comme celle qui m'attend va agir comme catalyseur pour certaines convictions personnelles dormantes.

Si ce fût vraiment une semaine étrange, par contre, il sera difficile à décrire les prochains 5 mois...

Le prochain article sera en direct de Bamako dès que je réussis à m'installer avec une connection Internet au bureau.

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... and Sweet

This will be short, I promise.  There are a few thoughts I wanted to share from conversations I had today with various people.

A teacher once told me that an idea can sometimes ring so true inside that one immediately adopts it as a Truth rather than filtering it through a filter of judgment.   There is an inherent danger in falling for this trap.  This advice was offered when a discussion led to me mentioning how everyone on this planet should watch An Inconvenient Truth.  Her response was not what I expected but it was very much a valid point: to firmly believe in something, one needs to be able to argue as convincingly for either "side".  In other words, one should take information from Al Gore with as much skepticism as if he or she were watching CNN or Fox News.

This, of course, is the opinion of a certain individual and although I don't wholeheartedly agree, she definitely makes a valid point.  It has served mainly as a personal reminder when taking in new information.

Today was a day of stimulating (and long overdue) conversations with friends.  I'm still surrounded by this overwhelming sense of naïvety when I think that I will be in Mali in a week from now.  It's both exciting and a little scary but I feel clarity in the reasons why I'm going and doing this.  Whether I will adhere to this plan for the duration of the internship remains to be seen.

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Une journée d'hiver

Tomorrow will be my last day in Smithers before I leave Friday morning. The past few days have been engulfed in both retrospect and a focus on the horizon; analyzing the last 3 months through 20/20 lenses while trying to wrap my head around how I should best prepare for an entirely different reality.

Hiking up to Crater Lake while thinking of Africa is the most accurate microcosm of my experience in Smithers and it was pointed out even before I left Ottawa by a friend who contemplated the logic behind going to Northern B.C. to prepare for West Africa. It's odd to say the least but here I am...

As a final thought, I have this strange impression that the next time I blink I will be on a plane crossing the Atlantic, saying goodbye to family, friends, and a version of myself that I will one day see as disconnected both from my Self as well as the world around it.

Updates

First, I would like to apologize to my readership for the lack of posts but in my defense, you were warned!

Vancouver was an interesting return to the urban jungle filled with the cackling of traffic and the blinding lights at night. Having only been in Smithers since early July, I wasn't expecting this much of a shock during my return to a big city. I found myself craving for the deaf calm of downtown Smithers and the accessibility of all that is essential.

I also realized that living in such an over-stimulating environment like Vancouver doesn't allow one much time to truly reflect either introspectively or on small curiosities like how a blind person knows when they should stop wiping (never quite figured that one out yet).

Being back in Smithers has been full of signs that I am leaving in a short period of time. I have been popping pills and experiencing their side effects but they have definitely ceased. I will only have to take mefloquine once a week instead of doxycycline every day (and it's also an antibiotic, which I'm told can be very hard on your system if taken for prolonged durations).

As for details on the next few weeks, this might be useful to know (subject to change of course):
October 12: I'm arriving in Ottawa at 11:30 pm
October 12-14: In Ottawa
October 14-17: Running around in Cornwall
October 17-19: Back in Ottawa for the Matthew Good show (17th) and to see my Habitants kick some butt at Scotiabank Place on the 18th.
October 19-21: Back in Cornwall for some last minute, panick-ridden to-do's.
October 21: Leave from Montreal for Bamako.
October 22: Arrive in Bamako in the evening.

I was given details today about my accomodations and it looks like the Mali Folkecentre rents out a 2-bedroom apartment for international workers. The apartment is in a compound that shares a courtyard with local families, which will be a great way for me to meet new, non-expatriated people. I intend to take djembe drum lessons while I'm there and learn some Bambara.

Although posts have been few and far between, I will make a better effort in writing because it's also my chance to reflect on what is going on inside of and around me.

Busy Bee

It will likely be very difficult for me to post consistently for the next 2 weeks because of my preparations for the Energetic Olympics booth at the UBCM Conference in Vancouver next week. I have been venturing into the world of graphic design for our material (banner, brochures, posters, alouette) and it has been very pleasant and rewarding when you see the final product. I will post the material once it's completed but for now, a little teaser (done by the wonderful Facundo Gastiazoro)...

Characters in Motion

A rock star forgets the city he's in.
A city boy never looks up at the stars.
A laid-off machinist sits alone at the end of the bar.
A child lies in its broken bed.
A cyclist runs on altruism.
A plumber connects pipes to his freedom.
An introvert writes with a handful of exclamation marks.
A wheat farmer never looks down from the sky scrapers.
A G.I. stands idle, facing verbal bombshells.
A proud mother never stops bragging at the hair salon.
A quarterback can't decide to throw or to run.
A skeptic waltzes with the most optimistic.
A writer wears everyone's shoes but his.

Tell me a secret...

In one of my rare moments of watching TV, I caught a part of The Hour where the guest was Frank Warren, creator of the largest advertisement-free blog on the web: PostSecret. It is an incredible story of a man who opens himself up (he gave his home address on the cover of his latest book of postcards) and, in turn, receives about 1,000 postcards per week. Each one is from anonymous people who want to share a secret with a complete stranger.

I've attached a couple that really hit me...

Polar Bear Mascot Costumes Etc.

An update is slightly overdue and the only reason is that, for the first time in my professional career, I am working long hours. Another first has been the enjoyment of working so much because of a high sense of ownership over the work. One Sky's 6th annual goods and services auction is coming up this Saturday, September 15th, and it has taken up a lot of my time during work hours in order to collect donations from local businesses and individuals. We've also decided to go with a theme this year and so the event is called GO FISH! and includes the following jam-packed night: kids activities, a free magic show, a salmon BBQ, a live and silent auction, performances from the Local Vocals choir, the bellydancers group and our headliner, Yael Wand.

Along with GO FISH!, I have had to juggle the organisation of the Energetic Olympics, my project challenging 22 B.C. communities to reduce their energy footprint. It has been a multi-faceted endeavour ranging from finding a seamstress to make a polar bear costume (for our mascot Scuba, sporting a life-jacket) to creating "Energy Report Cards" for these communities and researching success stories in the developing world.

One Sky has a booth for the Energetic Olympics at the Union of B.C. Municipalities (UBCM) Conference in Vancouver at the end of the month and I am creating the display as well as the overall concept of the booth. It might be very obvious for me to say but I've realized that with greater responsibility often comes a greater sense of ownership over the project and therefore, a heightened sense of motivation. This is what I have experienced at One Sky more than any other previous job (no offense to ATIP, I swear!).

In other news, Mali is coming up very soon and I feel like I am about to blink and find myself over the Atlantic, wondering how I got here so quickly as well as why the attendant is taking so long to bring me my microwaved lasagna.

One last thing, I came across a couple of interesting articles today that I wanted to share:

Millenium Village in Tiby, Mali

Green Roofs are cool...literally!

More than just a butt-crack

OK GO.

Morning bright stars stare back into blank faces. Glowing minds and eyes daydream of a logical paradise. Social capital is the new human(e) currency; savoir-vivre the new market. Efforts relentless to build bridges between perspectives. I see a suit with a silver lining but no pockets for wrinkled dry-cleaning receipts. Acrylic on hope is the medium, very avant-garde. An elder stands tall amongst slouching pin-stripes. An opportunity arises from a gasefied curse. Defeat was never on the license application; sympathy was written between the lines. The mechanics of the human spirit need no oil.

(Photo courtesy of Jahiah)
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Seven Generations

Footprints turn to dust
A foreign place
A foreign time
A feigned disgrace
In a hereditary line
Seven generations
A proverbial light
An ancestral right
For life as a reason
To live
To give
To share tall tales
From Tahltans
To live
To receive
Gifts of black feathers
And eternal flames
There is no word for blame...
Footprints upset the earth
They are stories
Of no worth
Of no glory

Footprints and tire tracks
Meet us where we're at.

Sometimes I Just Go For It...

A Diamond in the Rough

Yes, I know... The term is grossly over-used when it applies most accurately with Julie, one of the interns at One Sky. At first I was debating whether I should post this link simply because no one will want to look at my pictures (compared to hers). Capturing moments is an art form and she is the closest, in my opinion, to mastering it. But what do i know...

See it for yourself.

Note: This set of pictures posted below is just the tip of the iceberg, especially the first one below which I thought was necessary to put due to its excessive ingenuity.

Get the Shell Out!!

There are many ways to approach this topic. One can write from the perspective of the first nation people fighting for the survival of their land and way of life. Another can write about it from behind a solid oak desk on the 72nd floor of Shell Canada's headquarters in Calgary. Another can write it strictly from an environmental and conservation perspective. The list goes on...

I'm writing about this the only way I can, from the perspective of a global citizen concerned about sustainable livelihoods. First, let's look at what it is I'm so vaguely talking about.

First,



Second, here's a bit more background.

In 2004, the B.C. Government awarded mineral rights to Shell Canada Ltd. for the Klappan methane reserve, estimated at eight trillion cubic feet. Shell's proposed development occurs among the small tributaries that give rise to the great salmon systems of the Nass, Stikine, and Skeena rivers, a place in the Klappan Valley the Tahltan people call the "Sacred Headwaters"

Shell's plans threaten to transform wilderness into an industrial landscape. Shannon MacPhail, a fourth-generation Kispiox Valley resident and spokeswoman for the coalition of citizens concerned about coal-bed methane, says "They're planning to drill a thousand-plus wells; it would totally industrialize the landscape and there would be 30 or 40 technical jobs for non-locals. It doesn't make any sense no matter how you look at it from an environmental, social, or community perspective. Nobody benefits but the company" (Source: Andrew Findlay, 2007).

Friday I attended a rally to support the blockaders in Iskut that you saw in the video. There was a court decision that day that basically declared they wouldn't be going to prison for "disrupting the peace". It was so inspiring to hear these Tahltan elders speak about their fight against Shell and I have to admit that some parts gave me real chills.

The purpose of this entry isn't to talk about how this rally made me feel, it's about how this cause makes you feel. I urge everyone who reads this to take just 5 minutes to visit the Skeena Watershed Conservation Coalition and if you're a "facebooker", to join the group.

Whatever lens you're employing, it shouldn't matter because this is a global issue and whether you want to believe it or not, you'll be as affected by this as will any bear, salmon or Tahltan.

Seven Generations

It's a long time from now, isn't it? So why should we care so much about such people? The Native communities say that they make their decisions based on the impact it would have on the seventh generation. It's sustainability at its best.

Today was a perfect microcosm of my experience so far in Smithers. Without getting into too many details, I participated in a rally to support blockaders in Iskut that are protesting against Shell drilling for coal-bed methane in the Skeena Water-shed. If you have never heard of these 2 terms, I strongly urge you to at least read up the Wikipedia articles and then stay patient because I will be writing a post at some point this weekend about this incredibly important cause.

After the rally as well as some chilling and inspiring speeches, the One Sky staff and interns had a workshop on integral theory; a theoretically "heavy" afternoon to say the least. Three hours later, I've realized that the little 2-cylinder engine that has kept me running for 10 hours a day at work this week has suddenly run out of gas. I needed to be alone in order to recuperate.

Looking forward to my bike ride home while listening to the classic - and one of my all-time favourite albums - Beautiful Midnight (by Matthew Good Band), I end up hitching a ride with Nathan Cullen, the local MP. Nathan was once a One Sky intern and has given me a fresh perspective of what a politician can be. Being the environment critic for the NDP, he seems to be in tune with the communities and commmitted to creating change both at home and in Ottawa. In one word, he is human.

My intention for the evening was to rent a movie (Grizzly Man) and just spend some time alone for once. That said, I ended up having BBQ'd buffalo burgers and homemade fries with Tom and his partner Natalie, sitting by the fire and having conversations from the value of a msters degree, to the pendulum-like shift in paradigms of political governance, to the evangelical christian movement in the U.S. to One Sky's organizational culture.

Now I sit here, thinking of where I should begin to draw parallels between this day and my experience in Smithers. What I realize is that it needs to be left for interpretation so take this post in its literary sense or try to read between the lines.

I leave you with that thought for now and check back in the next few days to read up on the coal-bed methane drilling.

Status Report

I apologize for the lack of entries in the past week but it has been hectic (and that's an understatement). In a nutshell, the following happened:

- 3 night, 4 day camping trip to the now infamous Bell Lake where we spent most of the weekend under a giant white tarp and huddled around a fire.
- multiple games of charade with many funny moments (i.e. acting out "Tanya Harding", "Ankle high phosphorescent spandex tights", "Who Killed The Electric Car?" and my favourite, "Charades")
- a party at Tom's with Wade Davis' family, some One Sky board members and many others. The 'kids' ended up hanging out by the fire and we had some great jam sessions. Wade's older daughter Tara is singer/songwriter in an amazing band that has toured all across the american East Coast. It's amazing how much someone with talent can make you look good even if you're just strumming a guitar.
- face to face encounter with a black bear
- the general feeling of losing my sanity at work this week because of my lack of work ethic and time management skills in past work experiences that may or may not be related to the fact that most were in the federal public service.
- a road trip tomorrow to Houston (B.C.) to meet with interesting people who have apparently done incredible work in renewable energy, especially in geo-thermals.

À la prochaine chicane.

An Alchemist's Symphony

It's time I lose my mind for the second last time.
Light and dark intuitions emulate lunar cycles.
A glass reflects in the sun, contemplating the irony of the rainbow.
A ceiling of clouds hovers in unison.
Humbling slopes fool the eye with a game of depth charade.
King of the castle, at least for a while longer.
Instincts fade with every crashing wave.
Calloused feet have grown foreign to me.
Time escaped and has disappeared into the night.
Radios re-wired with empathy blare the soundtrack of ancestors passed.
A broken antenna can serve a thousand purposes.
La vie est de toutes les couleurs.
Falling behind ambitious times; the most beautiful alignment of stars.
Waiting until 11:11 for good fortunes to come knock at the door; the minute always cops out. Sutures and smelling salts, tongue depressors and straw stretchers.
How do you feel about the earth lying on its death bed?

La conquête du lac Bell

After a gruelling, and unsuccessful, adventure last Saturday to find this now infamous Bell Lake, we were given a chance to redeem ourselves. And we did. In terms of natural beauty, I think the pictures speak for themselves. There is this feeling of isolation that overwhelmed me when we first arrived. Imagine looking onto a vast lake knowing you're the only human being. For some locals it may not be such a big deal but for a wide-eyed self-proclaimed city boy, it's such a new experience that you can't help but be stunned.

***********

Yesterday was my birthday. It was surprising to receive so many birthday wishes from close and not so close friends via facebook. As much as it can be criticized for being another platform like myspace and turning the world into 3 degrees of separation, facebook does bring people together. If you dig deep past the useless applications, you'll find some with a just social cause that are trying to raise awareness on important issues. And it's very useful to stay in touch with friends when you're away.

Along with new year's and the Super Bowl, a birthday is one of those milestones that calls for an introspective look on the Self in the past year. In my case, I have lived somewhat of a transient lifestyle for the first time in my life; I have travelled and seen more places in these last 365 days than I ever have in the previous 8,395 days. And yet, I don't feel much different. That said, my outlook on the world has definitely changed and is bound to get shaken up once I arrive in Mali. I guess it's more like I'm an upgraded version of myself: Ben 2.0 - now with new and improved features like a greater sense of Self and the knowledge to build an outhouse, drive standard and weed a garden. Coming soon, Ben 2.1 with the horse training/riding feature.

À la recherche du lac Bell

Samedi passé, trois ambitieux aventuriers pris la route pour le lac Bell, une flaque d'eau inconnue parmi les gens du village. Distraits par les hameçons pendants le long de la route, ces aventuriers font de leur mieux pour garder leur cible devant eux.

Ce fût un trajet imbibé de merveilles, malgré que certaines parmi elles ressemblaient plutôt à un cauchemar qui ne semble pas vouloir arrêter: un ménage industriel dans la forêt, de grands arbres dénudés, des milliers de troncs abandonnés, des habitats bulldozés, une empreinte du pied de l'humanité.

Mais les priorités changent vites lorsque les balles volent au-dessus de la panique. Ceci étant dit, le conflit aime suivre la richesse (naturelle autant que monétaire).

Mes pensées sont dispersées, désolé. C'est difficile à les organiser après avoir vu le film Blood Diamond. Je pensais en discuter mais je me suis vite rendu compte que c'est bien trop difficile en ce moment. Le seul commentaire que je dois partager est le suivant: pourquoi dire, à la toute fin du film, que "Sierra Leone is now at peace"? N'est-ce pas ce genre de masque protecteur que critique la journaliste dans le film? Je suis d'accord que le Sierra Leone a pris de grands pas depuis la guerre civile avec des élections très récentes. Par contre, il ne faut pas se créer l'illusion que la paix règne le pays (ni la région). Ce qui m'inquiète c'est surtout l'impression des gens après avoir visionné le film, ne sachant rien de la situation en Afrique de l'Ouest.

En tout cas, je continue cette pensée à une autre fois. Il est temps que je me ferme les yeux et que je rêve à des forêts boisées et des diamants de paix.

Back to you Jim...

Alright, now it's your turn to grab the mic (or keyboard?) and do the talking.
What is your incentive for doing things in an environmentally friendly way (for example, buying organic products or recycling)?
What discourages you from engageing in further actions (for example, composting, if you haven't already)?
How do you think you can most effectively shrink your footprint?
Finally, do you envision yourself using renewable energy - like solar panels or wind generators - in the next 5 years? If so, what source? If not, why not?

If you're not a blogger user, don't worry! Just leave a comment as Anonymous and write your name in the comment text box.

Et voilà.

God Supports Blu-Ray

Personal relationships. They have been a focal point of interest in my experience with One Sky. What drives them? Why do people connect with certain people more than others? Is there a way to change this by altering one's perspective and, consequently, behaviour? Or is it a lost cause overtaken by cowardly habits that are too afraid to die?

I have struggled with certain relationships because of those habits and instincts that wrap around you like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer; they feel so comfortable but you know that sooner or later they will feel cold. Knowing this, do you hold on to that blanket for your dear life while it's still warm and fresh or do you fold it up and sacrifice a tiny bit of discomfort and fold the rest of your laundry?

I am discovering that there is a line between changing perspectives (getting out of that comfort zone) and staying true to that nucleus also known as the Self. Change is a perpetual road, granted. But you need to set yourself some boundaries, no? Does anyone have an interest in changing to the point where they don't even know who it is they're changing anymore?

I am the Great Wall of Sympathy. I sometimes have great difficulty to feel sympathy outside of my perception box. In other words, someone may feel like they are in a miserable situation but if I can't see myself reacting to that very situation in the same way, then by all means let the tiniest orchestra of the tiniest violins play the saddest song in the world. My coping mechanism in such a situation is to disconnect myself and not vest any time or interest in the situation. How does one find the ability to turn this seemingly negative energy into a positive one of opportunity? It feels like I've figured it out on paper (in theory, communism works, in theory...) but perhaps I'm expecting some sort of epiphany that will only blossom on my death. It will be that moment of the deepest introspection experienced in your life where you stand there naked before yourself, in absolute humility and honesty.

In grade 8, my teacher would tell us that when we get to Heaven, God pops into the VCR (I'm sure he's upgraded to DVD or maybe even HD-DVD or Blu-Ray by now... C'mon, it's God) the videocassette of your life and watches it with you. This is the kind of examination I'm talking about where you have no excuses to fall back on when you stand there, being judged by yourself or God or Jeebus or whoever you believe in. We all leave an impression on this planet, whether on an ecological level or through personal relationships. The question remains whether you leave a legacy or a mere toeprint.

Nomadic Relativism

I wrote this a few years ago and turned it into a song with the help of the talented Mr. Paltrinieri. I keep going back to it because there is so much of it I can relate with.

Disconnected.
Infected.
Silence shattering this glass
All Across the earth

Falling trees
Empty woods
Silence of hungry voices
Make you cry for what it’s worth

Apathetic as we are
Empty souls are not looking
For a thing to do about this

Pack your gear it’s time to go
There’s nothing here left that you know
Infertile earth that is beneath
Our bruised and battered calloused feet

Ciao cheers farewell goodbye
Ciao cheers farewell goodbye
Ciao cheers farewell goodbye

If a boy cries in the desert
Village can you hear him
Make a sound

Hear no evil, I don’t speak it
Cold from the chilling woods
They never get out

Do you really wish to be
Warm from the salty earth
That is the trail

Pack your gear it’s time to go
There’s nothing here left that you know
Infertile earth that is beneath
Our bruised and battered calloused feet

Black Earth

There is something to be said about working with your hands, about building. This has certainly been a large part of my experience here as a Smithereen. Having grown up as a city boy, I have never really been exposed to working with my hands; if you need something, you go buy it at the store or you get an expert to do it. Why would I bother to do it myself?

The past two days have been grounding. A month ago I didn't even know the meaning of that word in this context. I still don't know exaclty how to define it but if I had to try, I would say it's coming back to your senses. I have spent the whole day in Tom's giant gardening and that, to me, is grounding. It's backbreaking, my knees feel like they're going to fall off and I'm a red tomato, but I've never been happier.

Recently I watched a Nature of Things documentary about Cuba and its "Accidental Revolution" where, after the fall of the Soviet Union in 1989, Cuba was left stranded. It had to immediately develop sustainable agricultural systems in order to survive. It was the commentary from one of the local farmers that gave farming a new perspective for me. He was talking about the perception of farmers in Cuba, where there is an annual increase as opposed to most Western countries. As he explained, it may be physically demanding but there is a rewarding element to farming and working off the land.

Oh, and one more thing... you get to eat the freshest and healthiest food which should definitely not be overlooked when many kids from all over the world, even in the Western world, are mal-nourished.

Le perpétuel

L'apprentissage dans la vie est perpétuel, il ne faut pas l'oublier.

Nous sommes tous humains, il ne faut pas l'oublier.

Il y a une certaine fragilité chez les humains qui est quand même fascinant. Une personne peut être perçue comme étant puissante, indépendante et forte de caractère lorsqu'en réalité, ce comportement sert de cri pour de l'affection.

Ce fût mon expérience jusqu'à présent avec une des stagiaires et je dois admettre que j'étais très surpris. À One Sky, on stresse beaucoup l'épanouissement et la découverte de soi. Avec ces découvertes vient le sentiment qu'on peut dire n'importe quoi à n'importe qui et n'importe comment, ce qui devient très dangereux bien sûr. Lors d'un atelier de résolution de conflit hier, l'animateur a expliqué ceci avec l'analogie que nous avons tous un film différent; donc, nos cinq sens sont stimulés différemment ainsi que notre perception d'événement. Une situation comme la cancellation d'un vol peut être stressant pour une personne et non pour l'autre.

La perception est humaine, il ne faut pas l'oublier.

Pour terminer, voici quelques exemples de mon exercice de métaphores personels (en anglais):

I am a mountain.
I am a broken record.
I am a dry sponge thrown into the ocean.
I am a rootless tree.
I am Wile E. Coyote.
I am a thousand shades of grey staring at a rainbow.
I am that Trivial Pursuit answer nobody knows.
I am a misplaced rhyme.
I am the applause for a second encore.
I am a solar panel.

If you are confused about the meaning behind them, it's perfectly normal. This is an introspective exercise everyone should at least try once. The only tip I have is to write whatever comes to your mind and not worry about what it means. Once you run out of those thoughts, you tend to dig a bit deeper and really ask yourself some more serious questions.

I am le tired.

Salmon Swimming Upstream

Not too much to report in terms of crazy adventures. The Kispiox Music Festival definitely exceeded my expectations in terms of size and overall ambiance. There are some extremely talented musicians in the Northern Central Lower Mainland; they seem to call this region by so many different names that it gets quite confusing. There are three groups that are worth mentioning because they stood out:

Los Gringos Salvajes
Blue Island Trio
Cousin Harley

Also, there was an artist working on a piece near the main stage who happened to be there at 3 am when I finished my volunteering shift. He was using fingerpaint on a poly tarp (kind of a plastic) and anyone could try it out. It was an enlightening experience, especially with a group of 4 genius guitarists jamming right next to us. The piece was constantly changing but I put some more pictures on Flickr.

In other news, I will be focussing on writing about certain issues surrounding energy equity in the next few posts since I feel like the personal adventures are not as frequent now that I'm actually doing work. That said, I have many ideas floating in my head that I will need to get out. Whether they make their way here is another story.

While speaking to my mom on the phone today, I realized that I am already beginning to lose my French. This is when the idea came to me that I should also write in French to keep my mind from turning uni-lingual. For my English readers, I will try to translate but you may want to do so yourself if I'm too lazy.

To keep the random train of thought going full steam ahead, I thought I should mention that we made the greatest dinner EVER tonight. A generous woman I met last week offered to give all five interns some free salmon that she caught last year. That free salmon swam its way into a dish of linguine alfredo with caramelized onions, mushrooms, red peppers, fresh green onions and tomatoes. It was, in one word, divine (enough for me to want to take a picture). Now we just need a name for the dish so leave your suggestions in the Comments section.

Hope your mouth is watering.

Progress

With a bit of assistance, the header finally fits! This may sound geeky but I'm still proud of it.

We had an afternoon-long workshop today on personal ecology, a kind of new concept that encompasses mind, body and spirit in a similar way as a biosphere has many co-existing species. It mainly allowed us to examine stress as exterior influences but also how it can start from within. It seems that for many people (including myself), stress from within comes from resisting to accept what is happening in the present.

I had a mini-epiphany during the afternoon when I realized that you can never change a stressful situation, you can only change your perception of it. This will in turn transform your response into a more positive one.

We also did an exercise that I enjoyed so much that I think everyone should try to do this on a regular basis. First, find a way to get into a creative head space. Then, think of a metaphor that reflects where you are currently at in terms of mind, body and spirit. It should start with "I am" in order to focus on your Self. For example, I said I was a dry sponge being thrown into the ocean because I feel overwhelmed by the amount of information and knowledge before me and what I should focus on absorbing; and also how quickly.

It's a great exercise to check in on how you are feeling and if there's something to correct, then how to go about doing so. Expect many metaphors to come because I will be using this blog as a platform for them.

Any comments on the header or my "head space", feel free to leave a comment.

Doei doei.

43 years of darkness to light up the soul

The best way for me to do this is to simply list the lessons learned and the wisdom acquired from an evening with arguably the most brilliant person I've ever met.

- When in a foreign place, learn to connect with people through love, humility. Wade was telling us that a study done recently showed that the human genome originates from the same 1,000 people and so we are all brothers and sisters in a broader sense.

- Realize that people will ask you many questions about the industrialized "North" but make it clear that you are here to learn from them and not vice-versa. This journey is for personal gain, in many ways, and it's only in 10-20 years from now that we will be in positions to make a much greater impact. It is experiences like the one I will have in Mali that, in a decade or two, I will draw upon for inspiration.

- There are many, many, many, many different cultures out there and they are in danger of extinction as much as elements of biospheres. In fact, there are approximately 6,000 languages but only half are currently spoken and they are diminishing at an alarming rate.

I have no idea if any of this makes sense. It's been an overwhelming evening and my mind is still stuck on the slideshow of pictures Wade just finished showing us. These were pictures from literally the 4 corners of the world and each one could have been a magazine cover (I think a couple may have been...). The picture that really stunned me was of this Tibetan woman who had spent 43 years meditating in the dark, without human contact. Let me repeat that... 43 years... The picture is of her reaction the first time she opens the window to her home. 43 years...

Not bad for a relaxing Wednesday evening after work.

The Serpent and the Rainbow

The roots, whatever was actually growing in the ground, have been dug out once again. It appears that this time it will be slightly more permanent but I must say that I am enjoying this transient lifestyle. In a dire attempt not to bore both readers with details, four out of the five interns have moved to Tom Buri's house. Besides being a One Sky Board Member since its conception (I'm assuming), Tom is a lawyer and professor specializing in Aboriginal Law. Bits and pieces of his life are being discovered the more you talk to him and his life story is, in one word, awe-inspiring (is that two?).

A few days ago I felt embarrassed when I heard other interns talking about this Wade Davis character like he was a god and I had no idea who he was. When I asked, their reaction made it even more embarrassing. That said, he is a very famous anthropologist and ethnobotanist who happens to be very good friends with Tom and will be staying here starting tomorrow for a few days. To be honest, I'm writing about him now on Wikipedia as I write this so you might as well do the same. His wife and daughter arrived this evening and had so many incredible stories to tell us. Gail, Wade's wife, was telling us that her father once ran for Republican Presidential Candidate (having been a long-time Senator before).

Another random story is that Wes Craven, famous director known for movies like Nightmare on Elm Street and Scream, dated Tom's sister and made a movie with Wade. I guess this whole night has been full of surreal experiences that needed to be shared.