This blog has covered my summer 2009 EnerNOC internship, my fall semester in Copenhagen, it has acted as a official blog assignment while I was taking an environmental studies course. Who knows what the future will bring?
So, I have my blog back, as my professor put it. Am I going to use it? I don't know yet. However, there are some other things that I do know:
I know that I have a week and a half left in this semester before I return to Boston. I'll be living with my brother Michael again at his place in Medford and interning at EnerNOC where I worked last year.
I know that by nightfall on June 19th, I will have a sister-in-law, as the aforementioned brother Michael marries his fiancee of three years. I know I'm looking forward to that weekend.
I know that later in the summer (though I do not know exactly when yet), Michael will move to the west coast to get ready to attend grad school at Berkeley in the field of sustainable energy. This means me being happy for him, and it also means a slight change in my living arrangements from that point in the summer onward.
I know that this fall, I will be taking courses that I'm very excited for. All of my classes follow a "I liked it the first time, so I'll probably like more of it too" pattern:
Seminar in Human Motivation: Intrinsic Motivation. I took the 200-level version of this course last year and loved it; now I'm back for more with the same professor and a similar topic at the 300-level.
Topics in Peace Studies: Conflict Resolution Skills. There's been a lot of discussion in the Peace Studies department lately about how students feel like we talk a lot about building consensus and using mediation techniques, but we never actually learn these skills. Some of these discussions later turned into informal skills workshops run by faculty and students, which have been great. Perhaps part of that discussion lead to one of the professors offering this course next semester.
U.S. Environmental Policy. My current enviro class has been great (the one that I've done these posts for) so I'm taking another enviro course with the same professor.
Internship with United Workers. Working with that particular non-profit has been incredibly educational for me, especially this past semester, and I believe by spending more hours a week with them, I'll be able to learn more about community organizing and running or being part of a campaign.
African Drum and Dance. I'm coming back for round 3. I still don't even really think of this as a class; it's just a fun thing to do that they happen to give me credit for.
I know that this fall, on October 10th (10/10/10) there will be a massive global work party organized by 350.org. Baltimore will be the site of just one of the thousands of events happening worldwide that day. As it stands right now, we're trying to get as many local groups involved as we can. We're still early in the planning stage, but I know it's going to be awesome.
Of course, I use "know" loosely. I say "know," but I really mean, "These are my current plans, but all things are still possible." I don't know where the universe is going to lead me, but I'm excited about it. Yay life!
I appreciate Berry's willingness to break down the typical environmental discourses. Basically, he points out that we see nature either as a pool of natural resources from which we can and rightfully should take everything we can, or we see it as a beautiful thing to be protected because we are really just part of nature and when we hurt nature we are only hurting ourselves. These have natural parallels in Dryzek, namely Promethian and Survivalist, though the survivalist parallel is more tenuous. Then he points out that, although the survivalist mentality is closer to accurate, viewing ourselves as "part of the natural world" doesn't really tell the whole story.
Berry states very well a point that I've tried to make before, though never done as him. Our definition of "progress" is leading to our own destruction, and that's no progress at all. Once again, it's not about saving polar bears because they're cute, and it's not about planting flowers because they smell nice (although Berry isn't inherently against those things). It's about a recognition that helping nature thrive helps us thrive, as the survivalists say, with the caveat that it only works if we know exactly what we're doing. We don't need to leave nature alone, as some would say. We can help nature. But we also need to be aware of the difference between helping nature and spraying nitrates which double crop production. There are short-term and long-term effects, and the long-term has been ignored.
Last, and most importantly, I'm going to restate the point I made two posts ago, because Berry says the exact same thing. Nature conservation areas were a good idea to get us started on the environmentalist path, but really, it's an illusion. Everywhere needs to be a conservation area, in a sense. Farms, forests, cities, etc. Of course, they'll look different than what we think of as a "conservation area" today, but they will all be operated under the same principles.
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Side note: I've had some experiences with the "so-called nature lover" phenomenon this week worth sharing. A friend posted on his Facebook status how annoyed he gets when people shake cherry blossom trees so that they can get a picture of them swirling around in the wind. I said early on that there is a difference between a pet owner and an animal lover (though they sometimes line up), and similarly, there is a difference between a person who thinks cherry blossoms are pretty and a nature lover (though they sometimes line up). Many people I know aren't willing to make the leap and say that every living thing is worthy of care. Unfortunately (or fortunately, really) we can't just protect the pandas and butterflies; we also have to protect the snakes and algae and spiders.
To my friends: I know, my blog got all formal 'n' stuff. I apologize to anyone who's disappointed, which means you, Eli Moss, the only person who reads this anymore now that I'm not in Denmark. Hi Eli!
So, what do we do at Goucher, and what don't we do?
Well, I see the school taking some steps towards environmentalism, all of which are admirable. Our dining services do a good job, and we have a very efficient heating and cooling plant. However, we miss the boat on some fairly obvious measures. I somewhat accepted reliance on paper as a fact of life in college until I went to Denmark for a semester. All my classes either encouraged or required that we hand in papers via e-mail, which were returned with comments via "track changes." No paper involved. So, why don't we all do that? Well, professors here have reasons that are understandable, but I'm not sure if they're sufficient. Most of them fall back on "I don't want to stare at a screen all day," or a lack of desire to learn a new piece of technology.
In order to get any kind of environmental initiative pushed through, it has to start with student action on a large scale. The school rarely actively opposes initiatives except on the grounds of funding, and even then they don't push back very hard or for very long if the suggestion is unambiguously the right thing to do. So, in truth, all we have to do is ask. Only a few years ago, SGA made double-sided printing standard on environmental grounds; it's just a question of how much we want it. Of course, the difference between reduced-paper and paperless is significant; nobody really opposed double-sided except for a few professors who were sticklers for proper academic format, and even then they didn't really care that much. Students and professors will oppose a paperless classroom much more.
That said, there are certain things that absolutely should be digital. The course syllabus should always be online, as should reading handouts. Even if a few people decide to print it on their own, we're still saving tons of paper. I'm using very specific examples, but the point is that in nearly all cases, the thing that we could be doing better is raising more of a fuss. The school only very occasionally makes a move on their own without student demand.
Unsurprisingly, the 2007 IPCC report and its summary were brought up quite frequently at Klimaforum09 in Copenhagen, giving me another opportunity to discuss my visit. (Hey everyone, did I mention that spent last semester in Copenhagen? I thought some people may not have picked up on that yet).
The report took several years to put together from hundreds of pieces of scientific and sociological literature, and by the time COP15 rolled around only two years later, some of the data was said to be out-of-date by climatologists. In fact, further research done in 2007 and 2008 pointed at climate change occurring even more rapidly and dangerously than that predicted by the IPCC. This seems to be a recurring trend. Perhaps due to fossil fuel lobbies, greed, naivete or some other factor, but we seem to think that climate change is not as big of a deal, only to find later that we should have taken action a long time ago.
On page 15 of the report summary, there is a table of how various sectors could improve in the area of environmental sustainability. In almost every category, after a series of specific suggestions, is the idea "incorporate climate change concerns into design and daily practices" or something to that effect. This points at an important goal of environmentalism. A Department of the Environment is important, and many countries have one in some form or another. However, the goal of any environmental bureau should be its own obsolescence (credit to Ailish Hopper-Meisner for teaching me that concept). A government cannot have a Department of Energy build new coal plants and a Department of the Environment create conservation areas and claim to be meeting everyone's needs. Environmental concerns will not be met as long as they are considered separate from other concerns. They must be integrated into every aspect of society. The IPCC does a good job of showing the magnitude of the problem and pointing out that it cannot be solved by disjointed efforts.
In chapter 6, Speth focuses on the multitude of socioeconomic factors that go into calculating environmental impact. I appreciate his willingness to depart from the "old model" (that is, IPAT) and recognize the many other factors involved.
Matt brought up a great point in class a few weeks ago about the unfairness of using population as a factor with such prominence. Environmentalists are more or less in agreement that more people leads to a greater environmental impact, but the population factor is not of equal bearing with affluence, technology, or any of the seven other factors Speth lists. To paraphrase Matt's point, one average American child will consume more resources in his lifetime than fifty average children in the developing world. Therefore, limiting population, especially in the developing world, is a band-aid solution at best and a dishonest and unjust non-solution at worst.
The third factor, technology, I feel is also misapplied. Speth does a good job of clearing things up. It is not inherently the development of new technology that is the problem, but our unwillingness to change the definition of "progress." It has been pointed out by many environmental leaders (including many at Klimaforum09 in Copenhagen) that we have all the technology we need to solve nearly every environmental problem we are facing. We can create a sustainable electric grid worldwide, produce the things we need in a nearly waste-free way (see: Cradle to Cradle), and keep CO2 down to safe levels. Our problem is not that we need more technology. Our problem is that we have not committed to the applicaiton of technology. For example, once we have started building the number of wind turbines we really should have in the US, then we can always upgrade or switch to new methods when more efficient wind turbines become available. In the meantime, we ought to get started; the tendency is to say "the technology is not ready yet" when in fact, it has been ready for anywhere from 10-50 years, depending on which aspect of climate change we're talking about.
What does this say about us? Well, to repeat a point I've made at least three times in previous posts, we're always looking for excuses to be passive, when this is a problem that requires us to be active.
Ah, yes. The old "free markets would solve everything if only those stupid governments would stop getting in the way" approach. How I missed thee. Dryzek chapter 6 focuses on the market, and the discourse in which the market can solve all of our problems. While Dryzek does poke holes in this discourse, as he does with all the discourses, I want to add a few that he missed.
On page 124, Dryzek notes that "owners of forests that could not be logged economically would keep them as wilderness areas or invest in wildlife conservation in order to attract hunters or photographers, who would be charged admission to provide income for these conservation investments." While Dryzek later points out that privately owned conservation land often end up being sold to developers, he missed an opportunity to make a broader point: conservation lands need to simply exist. We cannot just save forests that people want to visit, hunt in, or take photographs of. That is not truly a market solution because there are only so many hunters and photographers and only so many people taking vacations at any given time. The entire model relies on the assumption that photographers are a major economic actor. I can think of few wildlife photographers who have the kind of money required to make conservation a good investment. In the end, a forest that is not commercially viable for logging will now (most likely) eventually be commercially viable for logging, or at least for something, and whatever that thing is will probably make the owner a lot more money than conservation. Therefore, by this model, the forest will eventually be cut down. Therefore, we need a system in which forests are allowed to simply exist, regardless of whether we are actively using them for something (because we passively use them for regulating global CO2 levels, among other things).
In my high school economics class, when we were studying Adam Smith's notion of free-market capitalism, my teacher was quick to point out that even the most hardcore, bottom-line, anti-regulation capitalists admit that governments have certain responsibilities. Namely, governments must handle pieces of business that are in the best interest of everyone, but no individual has any reason to take care of. For example, ensuring drinkable water: no individual will clean a whole reservoir, but collectively everyone around needs the water to be clean. Smith lists other examples including education, the prevention of monopolies and maintaining an active military*. So, Dryzek is making a straw man argument in parts of this chapter. I'm not sure there are truly that many free-market capitalists who believe that a healthy environment will happen when every single piece of air, water, and land is owned by an individual or firm. All but the most extreme capitalists tend to back off when it comes to certain issues like drinking water. The government does have its place, and that place is to protect the people when the market does not protect them.
*I find this somewhat questionable, but he was writing in the 1770's, so I'll cut him some slack. Anyway, while I'm staunchly anti-military, I suppose if one has to exist I'd rather it be run publicly, by the government, than by a bunch of rich people each with their own private militias.
Dryzek barely hides his own contempt for the notion that we can solve every problem by figuring out how to exploit new resources, or exploit old resources better. The Promethean argument extends as far as saying that we will eventually figure out how to harbor yesterday's pollution into today's energy source, which Dryzek compares to alchemy. There is only really one central point where I agree with Prometheans, but then feel that they take their argument in entirely the wrong direction.
I absolutely agree that there is no limit to human ingenuity. We are amazing creatures and can come up with a solution to any problem we put our minds to. However, unlikely Prometheans, I would argue that this is what we are doing right now. While the Promethean viewpoint appears to be, "we're smart, so we'll learn to live with global warming, depletion of resources, and pollution when the time comes," my viewpoint is, "we're smart, so we'll build wind farms, a smart grid, and take a sustainable approach to logging." Yes, we are incredibly resourceful as a species. That's why many of us are trying to nip this problem in the bud now, rather than wait for the economic tipping point.
At the risk of simply restating Dryzek's point, the Promethean viewpoint is unabashedly capitalist, and sees no other form of progress other than continued accumulation of things. It relies heavily on the use of misleading statistics such as global averages, which fail to account for regional differences. For example, it includes the absurd notion of "trickle-down economics," by stating that mean global increase in wealth equals increased prosperity and ability to solve new problems as they come up. In fact, what is happening is that one part of the world is accumulating wealth, and when these new challenges come up, that part of the world will be fine while the rest of the world is left by the wayside.
This time, in answering the question "what does this say about us?" I can't help but be a little sarcastic. It says that many of us in the wealthy part of the world are comfortable living the way we are living, and will come up with any excuse to protect what we feel is rightfully ours, regardless of whether or not we earned it. We are willing to cause very direct harm to people in other countries, or even the poor within our own countries, as long as it can be rationalized in terms of progress or blamed on some other factor. Critical? Yes. Harsh? Absolutely. But I can't see any other way of putting it. This is happening right now, and it's going to take a lot more pressure and education than previously thought to convince Prometheans of the error of their ways.
Note: this is not a PSC140 post. Scroll down for my environmental blog contribution for the week of 2/8/2010
I've had a few conversations with friends recently about growing up in a world filled with wizards and magic spells. Somewhere between video games, books, movies, and role-playing, many of us spent our childhoods in the backyard with a boffing sword, holding off hordes of imaginary Chaos Warriors (yes, I went for the obscure Hero Quest reference). I've been thinking back on that a bit lately, and I've got a few thoughts about my own childhood that I want to try to iron out here. There are references in this post that not everyone will get, but I'll try to keep it accessible, such that with context clues, you can figure out what I'm getting at (if I haven't already lost everyone with Hero Quest). All references to "Avatar" are to "...: The Last Airbender," not James Cameron's recent film.
First, magic (and other magic-like things, such as elemental control in Avatar) seem to only exist as a backdrop to war. It's especially black-and-white in video games like Final Fantasy or non-video games like Dungeons and Dragons. Magic is a weapon, and nothing else. In an RPG, you would never waste your precious spell slots/points on a spell you're not planning on blasting goblins with. Maybe an occasional spell such as invisibility, so that you can sneak up on a goblin before blasting it. But that's about it.
(Gandalf with his Instant Comedy Sticks. Just add fire!)
In books, the world is typically more complex and developed, but the non-battle applications of magic are still limited. Gandalf makes fireworks for the hobbit children. Avatar Aang amuses children with spinning beads. But it's more for comic relief than any actual plot purpose. Much to my own surprise, the one counterexample I could think of was one of the most pop-culture-ish interpretations of magical worlds: Harry Potter.
The world of Harry Potter leaves room for day-to-day magic use. It's the only system I can think of where there is a spell for cleaning a room. There are magic objects that serve "mundane" purposes, like pensieves, or the Maurader's Map. Sure, they end up being plot-relevant and in the book exist only to further the fight against Evil. But it is made clear that the Maurader's Map was created for common childhood pranks, and that was it.
J.K. Rowling took steps to create a world that is "normal" except for the inclusion of magic, and I think that's noteworthy. It may be part of the reason why the books were so compelling. But at the same time, I sometimes felt like she stopped short, and created a number of spells and items that only existed for Harry and friends to find. The one I joke with friends about most often is the "patronus" (from the third book, but used again later). It appears to serve no purpose other than scaring away dementors. Which are something that the average wizard never ever encounters. Yet, it's set up as an important spell that every wizard would know. There are hundreds of these convenient set-ups in fantasy stories, and we, the readers, wouldn't have it any other way.
A second thought is that fantasy worlds tend to be completely black-and-white in terms of good and evil. Granted, other genres fall into the same trap, so we're not talking about something unique to fantasy. Still, it's worth noting that we're comfortable with our Saurons and Voldemorts and Kefkas and Firelord Ozais, and the list goes on. One of my favorite comics points out the limited nature of this setup.
(The classic D&D "alignments")
So, this all got me thinking. What if someone created a comprehensive fantasy world, with as much richness of history and detail as Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter, (or even MORE history, perhaps). Then someone took that world, and *didn't* turn it into a cataclysmic battle of good vs. evil. Would anyone read it? Would it be engaging? Could a non-epic story be told in an epic fantasy setting? If properly written, could it be deep and nuanced? The only thing that's coming to mind right now is a modern Hollywood romantic comedy set in a fantasy world, and that's actually the thing I'd *least* want to see created out of this little brainstorm.
I'm not sure what the solution is, but I know how to define the problem I'm having. Regardless of the medium, the fantasy world is a place where pretty much any action is justifiable if the enemy is "evil" (see comic linked above). And if the enemy is not human, it's even more justified. Maiming evil humans sometimes require a degree of moral turbulence, but nobody ever feels bad for an orc. Again, fantasy is not the only genre to oversimplify good and evil, but it's the one I grew up with. I see fantasy, along with a million other forms of media, as continuing the notion that the world is black-and-white. Without some other counter-balancing perspective, it becomes easy to see criminals as The Bad Guys, rather than human beings screwed by a society we create and control. It's easier to view greedy CEOs as People Who Should Die, rather than people who need a new kind of education.
I guess what I'm asking is this: in a few years, when most of the world has figured out that we've been missing the point for most of human history, and that widespread cooperation, respect and trust are truly the basis of civilization, and that there is no such thing as Good and Evil, and that we are all just People... when all those things happen, what will fantasy look like?
Before we started reading Red Sky, it was mentioned in class that the book was a good summary of environmental issues. Unfortunately, that's all it has been for me so far. If I hadn't just spent a semester in Copenhagen learning about these issues, it would have been the perfect book for me. Unfortunately, it's ended up being more of a review so far. Hopefully later chapters will present new information. For the record, I'm not writing this to be smug about my vast, unending knowledge of environmental issues or anything so bold. Merely pointing out that this book is a summary, and is review for folks who are already involved. That said, it is incredibly well-written.
One piece of information that stuck out the most was the 450ppm C02 target. It was only three years ago that studies confirmed 350ppm as more of a "safe" target (safe in quotes, because even 350ppm will result in significant climate change). Perhaps seven years ago, during the writing of the book, 450ppm was still seen as a reasonable target. Now, further research has debunked that.
These constant readjustments seem to mirror a larger issue in our society of wishful thinking vis a vis global warming. We are constantly saying "maybe the problem will fix itself" or "maybe we'll only have to make small, incremental changes in our lifestyle." In reality, environmental issues have always required a complete overhaul of society, but we have never collectively risen to the challenge. Even if 450ppm was still considered "safe," we're on track to pass that in only another 20 years. What does this say about us? Well, first and foremost, we're comfortable living the way we are. We don't want to change, even at the expense of those who will suffer the brunt of the consequences despite their lack of contribution to the problem. Even more than that, it says that active environmentalists need to ramp up their efforts more than ever before. Helping educate people who don't know about the environmental issues, and helping mobilize people who do. That's the next step (and coincidentally, the next chapter in Speth).
"Defending species on a one-at-a-time basis has proven politically treacherous, at least beyond the defense of bald eagles, bison, and other charismatic megafauna." - Red Sky at Morning, James Gustave Speth, p. 25
More than any other, this snippet from the Speth reading caught my eye. While serious environmentalists generally have a sense of respect for all forms of life, it can be difficult to rally the public around the idea of saving a rare snail or fern. While saving the whales is important, the whales have somewhat hogged the spotlight for the past 40 years. Smaller, less iconic, less "majestic" animals get little press.
It brings me back to 2007, watching the film "Happy Feet," which does do a good job of presenting overfishing in a way that is accessible to children. But I ended the movie feeling that the point was, "Let's save the penguins because they entertain us with their wacky tap-dancing antics." The film presented this as a triumph, but for me, it more closely resembled a scene in a different animated film: the scene in The Lion King, where Zazu is being forced to sing for Scar's amusement, and if he stops he will be fed to the hyenas.
At the end of the chapter (p. 42) Speth notes that the cost of a well executed nature reserve plan would equal the amount of money spent on pet food annually by wealthy OECD countries. Pet owners are often mistaken for animal lovers, and while those two groups sometimes overlap, they certainly do not always overlap. I frequently meet pet owners who love their pets, but care little for other animals. While there are clearly much better ways of funding conservationism, I appreciated the notion that a sudden abolishment of pets could free up enough money to meet present and future forest needs.
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Side note: Comedian Denis Leary also has something to say about saving the cute animals (first 1:20 of the clip. Contains profanity, and quickly devolves into some disturbing imagery after about 1:30).
In an unexpected turn of events, I have a school assignment to keep a blog (for my environmental studies class, no less). So, it turns out that I will be using this again after all. For my friends and family who were reading my Copenhagen postings, there's nothing stopping you from keeping this up, but expect me to make quite a few references to books and articles you haven't read.
I'm back in the US, and man, is it weird. Reverse culture shock all over the place. It's not that it's been a problem readjusting to American culture, so much as it's been a problem readjusting to my mom's house. She cooks for me and buys me things, which is a change from the self-made lifestyle I had in Denmark. Plus, she lives in DC, and I was wandering around today only to be asked for money by three of the fine (poor/homeless) citizens of our nation's capital and offered cheap DVDs out of the back of a car trunk by three different people. I was only out for about 45 minutes. Welcome home, Eli. To the land of "Screw you, you probably deserve to be poor." I miss social welfare already.
So, we'll see what I end up doing with this blog. I may keep updating this winter, or I may just abandon it as a testament to my trip. It is called "2009 adventures" after all, and soon it won't be 2009 anymore. But, that remains to be seen. This may be the last post, or it may not be. It'll be left up to fate, and my personal whims. You, my six readers, will be left in such great suspense, I don't know how you'll possibly handle it. Sitting there, biting your nails, holding your breath, wondering if the blog will continue. This is, after all, a piece of work that will revolutionize the very concept of literature.
But what I really want to talk about is my last two-and-a-half days in Denmark.
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Friday morning, I woke up late and headed to our pre-show rehearsal for the DIS closing ceremony. I've been in a singing group with other American DIS students all semester, cleverly titled DISchord (yes, it was my idea, and no, nobody else thought it was as funny as I did, but they humored me). For the final show we would be singing "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey. Because it's not a closing ceremony if it doesn't include the tackiest song ever written. Then again, maybe that's unfair; itcertainlycouldhavebeenworse.
So, the closing ceremony happened, we sang nicely. We were rewarded for our efforts with Christmasy tea light holders, which are a big deal in Denmark. As are candles in general. We heard a few student speakers who were pretty typical in their student speeches; "we'll all return home a newfound sense of self and trying to figure out what to do with our experiences but I'm sure we'll all be juuuuuuuuust fine, etc. etc." The president of DIS showed a slideshow of things relating to our stay, and Denmark in recent months. His one slide representing recent environmental stuff was of protesters getting arrested. He did it so that he could make a joke, but it kinda pissed me off. The reason why violent protesters are so detrimental is that the media, and subsequently the populace, latch on to these images of jerks getting arrested, so we never really learn about the cause. And he just reinforced that for the umpteenth time. But I had to let that slide to enjoy the rest of the show.
(A relatively tame example of what I'm talking about. The woman says flat-out that it was a peaceful protest with only a small pocket of violent people who were largely ignored by the rest of the protesters. And yet, a full minute of the 1:45 video is focused on them, and the title of the video implies that the whole protest went sour.)
After the ceremony, we were given free cookies. Standing around munching, I realized how few people I knew or cared about at DIS. My handful of friends left, and suddenly I had no reason to be there. I ended up chatting with a couple professors, which I always seem to find more exciting than the college kids. I'm weird like that. Besides, all the goodbyes were awkward, in part because we all knew we'd be around for another 2-3 days. We weren't really sure what to say to each other, I think.
So, I left that party and had the difficult (read: easy) choice to make between the DIS post-close party at some club downtown, and the final party for Klimaforum. The Klimaforum party included a couple guest speakers, then two different klezmer-rock bands (your guess is as good as mine). I danced a lot, and got hit on quite a bit more than I'm used to. I guess activist parties are the kind of parties where I'm considered good-looking/fashionable (beards are the new black). Or could have been my awesome dance moves. Regardless, it was a fun time.
Just as it was ending, I ran into a guy from DIS named Tim, who I only considered an acquaintance at the time, though I now consider him a friend. We had spoken a couple times about environmental stuff and living in Maryland, but we were really only at "Facebook friend" levels of knowing each other. However, after we left the party around 11:30, we started looking for a place to catch the end of the COP15 proceedings on TV, and chatted quite a bit on the way. It turns out that we have a hell of a lot in common, and the things we don't have in common are things that make us interested in hearing about each other. So, we pretty much didn't stop talking for the next three hours as we searched for a screening. We found one, but it was for journalists and NGO people only. So, we left, and just kept talking.
Saturday was spent uneventfully cleaning my room. We can just skip that part, I think. Although I do have some photos.
(Before and after cleaning my room. Cleaning even helps with hue correction!)
(Just before leaving the room for the last time)
Sunday morning I put the finishing touches on my room, kissed my key goodbye, and headed to DIS to handle some final business. I dropped off some books, recycled a huge pile of paper, and got ready to meet up with Tim. DIS housing ended on the 20th, but I was staying until the 21st, and I had a few ideas for how I was going to deal with that. However, Tim offered his air mattress, and I gladly took him up on the offer. We had a late lunch with a third friend at Riz Raz, a place downtown with an awesome vegetarian buffet. They specialize in Mediterranean food, so I had a ridiculous amount of chickpeas (in their original form, as well as in the form of hummus and falafel). I was careful about not eating out all semester so that I didn't waste money, and as a result I didn't feel too bad about having a $14 meal, especially given that it was my last lunch in Copenhagen. Good place to do it, too.
(Riz Raz, with buffet pictured on the left. It's a hell of a lot of food, and reminded me that being a vegan wouldn't really be that hard; I'd just need to learn a couple more recipes.)
We went back to his place where he immediately fell asleep. I wrote that last blog post over the next few hours while he napped. I didn't realize quite how long it was until I finished. About 2000 words, it turns out. Hope you guys enjoy my writing.
That evening, we went to Christiania to check out the last night of their Julemarked (Christmas market), but arrived to find that it was being taken down. For no logical reason, we decided to wander around the warehouse which was full of people carrying things and power tools. Not the smartest or safest move, but we ended up running into three guys in the corner playing hackeysack, which was the best thing that could have possibly happened. I hadn't played since high school except maybe once or twice, and we hacked for a good hour. Everyone was better than me by enough for me to be impressed, but they didn't have the high school "look what I can do" attitude that makes the game annoying. They didn't hog the bag, and they joked and spoke in English for our benefit. I can't think of a better way to have spent my last night in Copenhagen. We also went to one of Christiania's eateries just before it closed for the night and got some good food. It was a great time.
(What the Julemarked would have looked like, if I'd been there)
Upon returning to Tim's place, I had to blow up the air mattress manually, which was the perfect thing for making sure I passed out as soon as I was done. The thing took 20 minutes to inflate, and I've never been good at even blowing up balloons. It was satisfying, though. There's something very self-made and independent about knowing that I blew it up myself. Or maybe there's some kind of metaphor in there, with me literally sleeping on my own breath. Don't know what that means, but it at least sounds philosophical.
The next morning, Tim headed to the airport before me; there was a four-hour gap between our flights, and I didn't want to sit around for that long. So, I went to DIS and sat around there. At least I had internet. I also got my last slice of Istanbul Pizza, the local college eatery in DIS's part of town. It's that area's Antonio's, basically. Though not quite as delicious. But what is, really?
The flight was uneventful, except for running into a couple other DIS kids. I saw a few movies, listened to music, and slept. As one does on nine-hour flights. Coming back to the US, I could tell things were different right away. First of all, in Copenhagen airport and around town, there were all sorts of climate-awareness billboards and advertisements. Nothing of the sort in Chicago O'Haire or Dulles. However, two funny things did happen in Chicago worth sharing:
1) We had a 25-minute taxi from where we landed to the gate. The main theory going around was that only certain runways were cleared off after the recent snowstorm, and they were all the ones farthest away. As a result, we actually taxied across a highway. Apparently there's a highway cutting across the airport, and we literally took a plane over it (well, over a bridge over it). It was something I'd never seen before, and it cracked me up.
2) Since I've been gone, I apparently came into the possession of a chain of Chicago dessert shops. Who knew? Alas, my name did not earn me free cake, but they didn't refuse when I asked to take a picture of their stall. And I think that picture is a fitting end to my Copenhagen adventure. Partly because it has nothing to do with Copenhagen. Welcome home, me.
So, I went to a LOT of talks over the past week and a half, and I'm going to list all of them, but only discuss the highlights in detail or else this post will drag on forever. In fact, it's already pretty long, so you can always do what I did to choose which presentations to go to: look up and down this post at the topic headings, and read the details on the ones that sound interesting. Worked for me. There was a lot more info than I'm posting here, of course, so feel free to ask me about anything I went to.
(Map of the DGI-Byen, Copenhagen's massive community center and venue for Klimaforum09. All the colored rooms contained events. The largest, the orange hall, was a full basketball court plus bleachers, so it probably seated about 700 people with plenty of moving around room. The red room could hold about 100-150. I only mention this so you can get a sense of how many people were there during peak hours).
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"The Inner Dimensions of Climate Change." A panel of spiritual leaders discussing the connection between our thoughts and the outer world. The main points were that the more we have respect for all people and for all living things, the more we are likely to make change in our outside world. Getting rid of our own greed is part of that. It was also noted that this was a rare occasion where highly respected people of varying religions were in unanimous agreement.
"Survival Pact, not Suicide Pact." Bill McKibben, the founder of 350.org, spoke for about an hour about the success of the movement. 350.org is a campaign about spreading the word on emissions. 350 parts per million is the maximum allowable concentration of CO2 in the atmosphere if we want to live in a world that looks like it did before we industrialized (i.e. relatively cool). He credits the success of the campaign and its ability to spread worldwide to a few factors:
1) They created a 90-second video that did not require language skills to understand. Even in the poorest developing countries, someone usually has a cell phone with internet access, and word was able to spread worldwide without a language barrier.
2) They trained leaders who trained other leaders and got people mobilized through local campaigns
3) Perhaps most importantly, they had a rallying cry that rose above individual organizations. Every organization has its own focus (preserving the rainforest, reducing emissions, saving whales, funding research, etc.) but all those things somehow come back to the principles of the 350 campaign; these groups are all connected by a common environmentalist thread. So, when it came time for a global day of action, thousands of individuals and organizations did their own, decentralized actions under the 350 banner. We also got to see a lot of photos from recent 350 events.
Bill told a few personal stories about the photos, then introduced Mohammad Nasheed, the president of the Maldives. Nasheed came to speak to us before going to COP15 because in his eyes, the Klimaforum folks are the ones actually accomplishing something for the environment and for his country.
The Maldives are worth reading about. They're going to be one of the first countries to get completely screwed by global warming because the whole country is a series of low islands, and the place is disappearing underwater fast. When I say "going to be" I really mean that it's already begun. They've already lost their coral reefs, which provide some protection against natural disasters. I didn't actually know that coral reefs did that, but apparently they do. Well, they did, anyway. Not so much anymore.
"Eventually We'll All Be Middle Class." A pointless art film I wish I hadn't wasted my time seeing. The artists decided the night before that they would sign out the room to show it because nobody else was using it. Their justification for showing it there was that it's about "the world" and "saving people" but it had nothing to do with climate change, and more to do with saving the poets and artists. Even the really, really bad ones, apparently. It's only notable because it reminded me why I hated my Workshop in Experimental Theatre freshman year. It's "art for art's sake," which is an invention of the privileged. The "art of the masses," if we want to call it that, doesn't come from a sense of "this would be a fun diversion," it comes from a deep need to get something out there. If it does not feel soul-burningly necessary to make whatever it is you're making, then you're not really making art, so much as goofing off. Which is fine, I guess. Except in this sort of context, when people who could have been learning about climate change were tricked into coming by a misleading description in the Klimaforum program. But now I'm getting ranty about this. Moving on...
"Progress - A New Millenium." A film about how we need to stop defining "progress" as "the accumulation of more things. Plenty of famous people interviewed on this, including the Dalai Lama, Gorbachev, and a bunch of scientists and writers. Interesting film, and I'd recommend it to others, though it didn't tell me anything I didn't personally already know.
"Political Salon: Reflections on Gender, Climate and Change" A pure discussion, in a fishbowl format. It was opened up by a group of Latino women dressed as panthers doing a performance about climate justice. The theme of the discussion was about how the rich, and mostly rich men, benefit from fossil fuels, and the poor, mostly women in developing nations, are harmed by the effects of climate change. Excellent discussion that highlighted the multifaceted nature of the issue.
"Moving Towards Zero Carbon and Beyond." A panel of speakers, including one of the main people from zerocarbonbritain.com. Their proposal is not perfect and includes a carbon-trading scheme that most people at Klimaforum are against. But other that, they've created it's a completely feasible way for the UK to go carbon neutral in only ten years (or at least most of the way). It needs fixing, but it's the best and most detailed proposal of its kind that I've seen. Worth checking out their material. The whole proposal is on the web, as are summaries for those of you who don't have hours of free time (read: all of you)
Also presenting was a member of the Australian parliament, who was talking about the hidden challenges involved in most green proposals. For example, we absolutely need to have a plan that says "we're going to install X number of wind turbines and solar panels" but those proposals also need to say "we're going to set Y amount of money aside to train people on how to install them." The infrastructure to support a green advancement has to appear at the same time as the advancement itself. When that doesn't happen, you have 100 qualified contractors trying to do the work of 1000, and things don't get done on time, or done well. The speakers were great, and among my favorites at Klimaforum.
"Growth is Good!" A presentation of the cradle to cradle concept. Look it up.
Basically, everything we make has organic components and inorganic components, and if we could separate those out, and use the right materials, we could always bury/biodegrade the organic and reuse or reprocess the inorganic, preventing us from ever needing new raw materials ever again. The presenter explained the concept well, and it's a great concept, but the guy was also a bit of an ass, and pissed off half the audience by making jokes in poor taste and saying that the environmental movement has missed the boat, and that he, in fact, has the answers. He also used the examples of carpet squares, because a company called Desso is making 97% cradle-to-cradle carpet squares. He got called out during the question period on picking the most bourgeois example possible, and that saying we should all buy carpets from Desso doesn't really fit with the anti-consumerist vibe of Klimaforum.
My conclusion was that most of us took the good parts of his presentation (C2C) and left the bad (shameless capitalism), so no real harm done. He undermined his own point a bit, but nobody actually disagrees with cradle-to-cradle at its core. So yes, he used the pretty mainstream example ofcarpet squares (in the words of one angry activist, "nobody gives a shit about carpet squares"). But he COULD have used shoes or diapers or a few other items which will probably still be necessary after The Revolution (unlike carpet squares).
"Breakthrough Advanced Free Energy Technology." I tried to be open minded about this one, but basically, it was two conspiracy theory groups talking about how the government has a secret thing that makes electricity out of nothing, but the oil lobbies don't want it to go public. One of the groups believed that we had this technology because aliens have landed with it. I buy the underlying concept, that the government and oil lobbies have stifled progress. But... seriously? Aliens?
I'm not even ruling out the possibility that aliens exist. The truth is, I just don't care whether they exist or not. If they landed and are talking to the president, or have been flying around secretly for eons, or any of the other theories people have come up with... it doesn't change anything. Even if this guy is right, and they're here and the government is hiding technology... so what? I'm already protesting the government's refusal to go green. I'm going to keep doing that, and weaken the oil lobbies how I can, and if that eventually leads to the revelation of an environmental Magic Bullet, then yay. If it leads to incremental improvements in renewable capacity, then also yay. It really doesn't change a thing. Except, possibly, for how crazy people think I am.
"Climate Broadcasters: How to Communicate Climate Change." A presentation of ideas for how weathermen could be used to present climate issues to a large audience. Especially in places like the US where there are millions of people who still Don't Quite Get It. The panel consisted of weathermen, who liked the ideas, but would have a hard time getting more airtime.
"Are You Getting the Deal You Came For?" An excellently moderated three-hour discussion with hundreds of people to answer the important questions, including "What would a good deal look like?" and "What do we do now that the deal is clearly not going to happen this year?" Most effective group discussion I've ever seen with 600 people in a room. It wasn't perfect, and some people had to be cut off due to rambly or off-topic mic-hogging, but it worked very well, largely thanks to the guy running it. He was very focused on keeping things democratic, and we got to hear a lot of perspectives and ideas. The general consensus is that the deal needs to be stronger, and the "what we do" is "keep building the movement." It's vital that those in power hear that there is a large (and quickly growing) number of people who want the temperature to stay put where it is.
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The last thing I went to was the Klimaforum closing ceremony/party, but I'll wait until my "What I did the last couple days in Copenhagen" post to talk about that. Kickin' party. Klimaforum was a great time, and I learned a lot. I'm ready to go home and be much more involved in the various organizations in and around Baltimore. I'm not typically one to care about arbitrary calendar designations, but I'm specifically excited about 2010 for some reason. Should be good. And now, it's time to get some sleep, as I fly back to the US tomorrow afternoon. Yay for home.
Note: sorry about the wonky font-changing in this post; I copied some of it from a word doc, and that seemed to mess everything up.
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Okay, so many things have happened this week. I'm going to try to put my thoughts together, but it will require spreading it out over several posts.
As I finished my last couple assignments for school, I was able to start going to all the Klimaforum events I talked about earlier. I haven't spent as much time wandering the city and seeing the exhibits because there's about eight things going on at any one time at Klimaforum alone. I'm glad I got to see the other stuff around town earlier on, because it feels like there's just not enough time to do everything. Which there isn't. There are literally seven presentations going on at the same time in the same gigantic building all throughout the day, every day. So, I've picked the ones that seem the most interesting, and accepted myself as a finite being. I may have stolen that phrase from Ailish, one of my mentors at Goucher. I think I'll spend next post creating a list with descriptions of all the Klimaforum things I've been to. Some of them have been great. In the meantime, I want to talk about Saturday.
I went to a massive climate demonstration. We marched from Christiansborg (parliament building) to the Bella Center (site of COP15). There were between 25,000 and 100,000 people there, depending on who you ask. There were at least a hundred different organizations represented, many of which made banners, floats, etc.
I’ve heard it said in the past that protest movements died in the 70’s, and that may have been true to some extent. Images of thousands of people marching with signs and yelling stopped being a new and exciting phenomenon, and the news stopped covering these protests. It became harder and harder to get publicity. Those times are over. The protest is back. I have a theory as to why, and it starts with that idea of media images.
Organizers have come up with new and creative ways of getting their message out there. There’s no longer just a bunch of people. There are a bunch of people coordinating their dress, making human formations, creating floats, whatever they have to do to present a single, clear message. A sound bite, a photograph, whatever gets the message across.
(Photo of Saturday's crowd)
Protests get a bad rap when it appears to be just a mob of angry people yelling, especially when they seem unsure as to what they’re yelling about. Back in 2004, I was at the massive anti-RNC protest in New York City. The only lingering memory I have from the march was the pro-Gore and pro-Nader people screaming at each other. That’s the sort of crap we don’t need, and the kind of crap that has been blessedly absent here in Copenhagen.
A single unifying message is incredibly important. While the various groups present were at the protest focusing on different aspects of climate legislation, everyone more or less agreed with each other. While some focused on indigenous peoples' rights, some focused on wildlife conservation, some focused on emissions reduction, and some focused on keeping the world anti-nuclear. Nevertheless, all these groups understood that these issues were related, and that a truly fair deal at COP15 could not ignore any of them. As such, folks got along just fine across movements, and it was a great event.
I've heard that a violent group tried to infiltrate the protest, but they more or less got cut off in the back, and didn't really manage to cause serious trouble. Arrests were made, though. Meanwhile, as you'd expect with a protest that size, those of us in the middle and the front didn't hear a thing until after the fact. We were too busy being positive.
Anyway, while our action was going on in Copenhagen, folks around the world were holding candlelight vigils in solidarity. Some great photos and beautiful displays of global unity, much like the 350.org event back in October (when I got to be a Mr. Green). I'll talk about 350.org more in my next post, and show some more photos as well.
(This vigil photo was captioned "Amherst, USA," but I have no idea who or where it is)
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Quick updates from recent posts: 1) The polar bear took about as long to melt as expected. Unfortunate, really. I was hoping for some irony. Or is it double irony? (Hint: no, it's not irony at all) 2) The weird temporary glass buildings on City Hall Square house various climate solutions. The overall exhibit is called "the future city.
Okay, not nuts, but there's a noticeable excitement around the place. Every large public area in Copenhagen has some kind of display, tent, booth, or exhibit on climate change.
Greenpeace has docked their ship in Copenhagen's harbor. Y'know, the ship they use to run off giant Japanese whaling tankers. That one.
Just outside the tent, there is a massive polar bear statue made out of ice (pictured below). Inside is a bronze skeleton, which will be all that is left when the statue melts, representing the endangered nature of the animal. It's supposed to take about ten days to melt, but it's only the end of day 3, and this afternoon the skull was already poking out of the ice quite a bit. Maybe it was (ironically) warmer than they expected this week, leading to a faster melt. That would be a pretty great message, in my opinion. Also, in case you were wondering, the baby is about three-quarters melted at this point, we'll see how it's doing in the morning.
In Rådhuspladsen, a.k.a City Hall Square, there is a giant bicycle-powered globe and several temporary glass buildings which I haven't quite figured out the purpose of. Something green, I'm sure. It's on my list of things to investigate further.
In Kongens Nytorv (The King's New Square), has been showing a photo display of "100 places to remember before they disappear." The exhibit has been there since late September, actually, but it was all in anticipation of the next couple weeks. There is a website here, which contains photos of all 100 places, as well as a description of the climate-related problems they are facing. Many of them are "naturey" landmarks, which are certainly worth protecting for the sake of biodiversity and natural beauty, but the more striking ones to me are the "human" landmarks. Pretty much every coastal city in the world is going to be flooded if the oceans rise as much as predicted. Chicago, Caracas (Venezuela), Beijing, New York, Amman (Jordan), and the entire country of The Maldives are featured in the exhibit, but that list is certainly not extensive.
Over the next two days, I'm going to have a lot of homework, but then I'm more or less done for the semester. I plan on spending my last week and a half monitoring the news closely, and attending as many lectures and exhibits as I can. In addition to the above, there is also an event called Klimaforum, which is sort of "the people's COP15." It's a series of events and lectures for those of us who can't actually attend COP15 (which is everyone). Plus Christiania is putting on their own event to celebrate visions of hope for the future. My favorite bit is that each day at 2:00PM, they're "burying" an abstract concept which hinders progress. Unfortunately, I was in class yesterday and missed out on burying The American Dream, but I'll be sure to catch a couple of the other funerals before I leave. It's looking like it's going to be an awesome couple of weeks.
When I got back from my travel break, I was a little bummed out.
After a semester that was mostly devoted to exploration and discovery with fairly little academic BS (we had work, but it was manageable, interesting, and rewarding) I realized that I was going to have to do a chunk of typical, boring, academic writing, which I wasn't looking forward to. In addition, during the two weeks I was away, Copenhagen went from "gets dark early" to "gets dark really early," and the idea of wandering aimlessly around parts of the city stopped being so appealing. So, I spent a lot of time emotionally removed from Denmark during the last two weeks of November. I chatted with friends back home, stayed up ridiculously late, and didn't leave my hall except an occasional shopping trip, plus classes.
Part of my funk was because the darkness, but another part was being somewhat disillusioned by the Danes in my kollegium, and not really knowing where else to meet Danes. And of course, the DIS students were all busy doing work. I guess there was a sense that it was too close to the end to make new friends, and that I might as well do something else. Like play video games. I'm not saying that's true, simply that it's part of what I was thinking.
When we got back from Thanksgiving, I started to go to a whole bunch of get-togethers. Some DIS sponsored, some otherwise. I've been to several Christmas lunches, and also a final reception for my department. This definitely helped me out of it; I enjoy being around people more than being alone, and I think the first party reminded me of that. Also, at the Psychology reception, about 50 people showed me how much they appreciated my presence, which isn't something that happens every day. All of this just made me want to spend the last few weeks as involved as possible.
I felt a little silly this weekend because there was a setup for an environmental display that needed volunteers, and I chose to miss that in favor of a Danish Christmas lunch. It's one of the big DIS-sponsored events, and I'm glad I went, as I got to meet a few Danes, and I was part of a group that was performing. Even so, it felt very typical of me to come up with some excuse to miss out on doing something good for the world. I enjoyed myself, but I think the climate folks needed me more than the singing group did. Next time, I guess. There will be plenty of opportunities in the next two weeks, with COP15 starting tomorrow.
All that aside, I still have to write a paper about something I don't care about. It's an unfortunate thing that happens frequently. I tend to pick topics that I'm interested in, which seem to always be different from what academics are interested in. So, I can't find any evidence or research one way or another, and I change my topic to something more boring. This time it's for my Gender and Sexuality class. I'm on my third topic, and it's about Danish vs. US marriage norms. That's not inherently uninteresting, but there's so much more I'd rather be doing.
However, I'm determined to not let something as trite as homework get in the way of my education.
I got an idea a few days ago for a project I might start on when I get back to the States. We talked in one of the DIS-sponsored climate change seminars about how if we want to remain within the "safe zone" for CO2 emissions, we can only emit about 2 tons of CO2 per person per year. Right now, the average Dane is at about 6, and the average American is at about 22. So, I wondered what a ton of CO2 actually amounts to, and if those numbers could be more accessible to the public. I'd like to create a scorecard of some kind, that says "driving a car five miles = X lbs. of CO2, taking a bus = Y lbs. of CO2." I know there are millions of nuances, i.e. city driving vs. highway driving, the efficiency of your car, etc. But I still think there's a way to make those numbers at least somewhat more accessible to the average person.
I often hear two things on the topic of personal responsibility for climate change. 1) "I changed my light bulbs to the eco-friendly kind, so I've fulfilled my obligation." 2) "It's impossible to live a green lifestyle, so I'm not even going to bother." The first person has not, in fact, done everything possible, and the second person is being pessimistic without even having access to the numbers. I would like to be able to show people exactly what it takes to be "under the line" for CO2 emissions, and also show people that it's attainable.
By the way, if anyone has any resources offhand for this sort of thing, send them my way. The first thing I'll need to do is find dozens of sites that say how much CO2 is emitted by different activities and industries.
It's been a pretty uneventful week here in Copenhagen, so I'm going to tell a few more short stories from my travel break.
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#1) In Barcelona, as in many cities, you can take busses, trains, and metros cheaper if you buy a T10, which is a ten-trip pass. In Barcelona, this is an especially good deal, because the T10 pass costs roughly the same as three train trips, or five bus trips. Usually these things are only a 10%-20% discount, at least in the cities I've been in. So, that's how I was getting around.
When I arrived at the airport to go to Cork, I realized I had a half-used pass, which I was not going to be able to use. So, I quickly used my wits and a pocket Spanish-English dictionary to figure out how to say "I am going to fly, but I have a T10 with six trips left on it, and I would like to give it to you." My plan was to approach the first person who looked like s/he was about to walk up to the ticket machines and give it to that person. For some reason, though, I spent a long time just standing there, watching people buy tickets.
There's some part of me that is still nervous about approaching people and breaking up their routine, even when I'm trying to do nice things and be a generous person. I felt like the awkwardness of me trying to explain myself in broken Spanish would not be work the five euros I'd be saving them, and all these pointless fears and insecurities started cropping up. I had a full four hours before my flight, so I was in no rush. So I just stood there watching people buy tickets for about ten minutes. It was just a pointless thing to be scared stiff about. Again, this was me being insecure about approaching people with a gift.
Finally, a group of about four people stopped, and I know enough Spanish to be able to tell they were trying to figure out which pass they were supposed to buy. I decided that it was time to make my move. Me feeling ridiculous outweighed me being nervous about the conversation, so I went for it. I said my line. The guy paused, looked and at me, and said (with a Spanish accent) "You speak English?"
So, that's how badly I botched my line.
I explained myself in English, and he at first thought he was misunderstanding me, that maybe I was trying to sell it to him (which makes sense; how often do people give stuff away at a train station?) But I assured him that there were six passes left on this, and that it was his. I was flying to Ireland, and wouldn't be back in Barcelona for a long time, so I would have no need of the pass. He and the folks he was traveling with seemed happy, which was my goal in all this, so as soon as he took it and thanked me, I told him to have a nice day and went for my flight. It was every bit as awkward as I expected, but I consider it a worthwhile experience.
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#2) In Cork, on the way back from one of our day-trips, Scott and I ran into a crazy old drunk guy. I think I mentioned in a previous post that this happens to be on a regular basis. Our conversation started when we asked him, in Cork, if we were at the right stop. He nodded and mumbled something, then all of us got off. On the way out of the station (which, thankfully, was the right one), I thanked him for the directions, which was either polite, or a huge mistake, depending on how you view the next fifteen minutes of my life.
He opened his mouth, as if to say something relevant, like maybe "you're welcome," "no problem," or even "enjoy your trip." But no, after a moment of what looked like deep thought, the words that exited this man's lips were "I got drunk." I believe the next line out of his mouth was "...but god bless ye, yer still young yet." Apparently "young" is an antonym for "drunk." This guy had obviously not been around many college campuses.
He then proceeded to explain (drunkenly) that the large cruise ship out in the harbor was being repaired because it had scraped some rocks. The guy is the navigator, and as such, got an unexpected week off, which he was enjoying spending in a stupor. He explained that the crew could still come back to the ship, so he could go there to sleep and get food while it was in harbor. At first he made it sound like he was going back to the ship now because it was going to depart soon, which made me a little nervous (remember kids, friends don't let friends navigate cruise ships drunk).
He repeated the phrase "god bless you" several times during the conversation in a tone that made it sounds like a farewell, so we started walking away, at which point he kept talking. There were many opportunities for us to get out of there if we really wanted to (I'm sure we could have outran him) but my view was that this was all funny enough to make a good story, and we were in no rush. The highlight of it may have been a phrase I alluded to a few posts ago. He said "god bless you," I responded "yeah, you too, nice meeting you," and he responded "yeah... it's nice... to be nice... to *mumble mumble*." Yes, it's nice to be nice. God bless you too, drunk old navigator guy.
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#3) I mentioned in my last post that we had the 6-bed room in Belfast all to ourselves the first night. Well, the second night we were joined by a very international group of travelers. There was a Brazilian guy, a Slovenian girl, and an American girl who appeared to be dating the guy, although he kept referring to her as his "friend," much to our amusement.
When they arrived in the room, the guy asked us if we knew where any good nightclubs were. He was talking about how much of a party animal he was, so we were all a bit concerned that they were going to come back at 4:00AM and throw up all over the place, as party animals are wont to do. We were discussing this possibility and how annoying this would be, and even went so far as to move our stuff from the middle of the room to one side where it would be less likely to be in the line of fire. Yes, we were that paranoid. To be fair, the guy was talking about his previous Crazy Nights, and it sounded like he was like looking for another. The Slovenian girl was not interested, however, which may be an explanation for what happened next.
We had gone to bed around 11:30, because we had to get up early the next day. EC and Annie fell asleep almost instantly, but I was up reading a bit. At around 11:45, our roommates returned, much to my surprise. They got ready for bed right away, and were out by a little after midnight. I overheard them saying that they had an early start the next morning, which would explain it. I went to bed at the same time, happy to know that they decided to take it easy.
At about 4:00AM, I woke up to the sound of the guy throwing up in the bathroom. Yeah, I was surprised too. I'm guessing it wasn't alcohol-related, since he had slept peacefully for several hours before throwing up. I'm guessing it was a bug, or maybe food poisoning (probably the latter, but I say that mostly because none of us got sick over the next few days).
So, that was a night of double-irony. We expected them to be irresponsible, and they were responsible. Then I expected them not to throw up because they had been responsible, and the guy threw up. He cleaned up fine, and in the morning there was no sign of anything. No harm done, really. It was just a series of weird expectation-defying twists. Just another reason I should stop trying to predict the future.
Hey, it's a post with pictures! Haven't had one of those in a while. Hope you weren't bored by all the text in my blog, I know it's not really what they were made for.
View Larger Map Above is a map of our 14km (8.5mi) walk around Belfast. We had under 48 hours in the city, which only included one full day, so we made the most of it. Points A and H are our hostel, the Belfast International Youth Hostel, which was a nice place and only 12 pounds apiece to stay in a six-bed room, which we were lucky enough to get to ourselves the first night. We ate breakfast at their cafe both mornings, which was delicious and similarly inexpensive. Annie and I shared a large "Ulster Fry," which is basically the "a little bit of everything" breakfast that many American diners also serve, but with more Irish foods.
(They asked me to pose with the breakfast. I obliged.)
Point B is St. George's Market, which is a huge indoor space with booths where people mostly sell food or crafts. I considered getting something, but I had just eaten breakfast and don't like buying things that just sit there looking pretty. So, we walked around for 20 minutes and left. Cool place, though. If I come back to Belfast, I'll be sure to go when I'm actually hungry.
Point C is the town hall, where there was a Ferris Wheel for some reason. It sounded like some kind of festival was being prepared for, but honestly, it appeared to just be the one attraction. We went on, though, and got the best view of the city you can get without going out to the hills. Good way to start our journey.
(Three different views of Belfast from above)
Part of the reason we came was to see the murals from the Northern Irish "Troubles," a conflict I'd learned a lot about my freshman year. I have yet to find a website that adequately sums up the conflict for the uninitiated, so I'll do my best in the next two paragraphs, so you know what's going on with these murals.
The British once controlled all of Ireland, but in the early 1900's, Ireland started its major push for independence. However, in the northern part of Ireland, there were a lot of people who wanted to remain part of the UK, most of them Protestant and of English descent. Although it's easy to say that Ireland should belong to the Irish, many of the Protestants had families who have lived on the land for hundreds of years. Think of it like modern America and the Native Americans. Even though it's easy to say that white men shouldn't have come to America and committed genocide, I'm also not sure that the right move at this point is to give the land back and find somewhere else for the 300 million of us to live.
Northern Ireland, it was decided, was going to remain part of the UK. And the battle lines were drawn. In general, Irish Catholics wanted a unified Ireland, and English Protestants wanted things to stay how they were. Militant groups on both sides started bombing each other. Regions that were already segregated in practice became even moreso. Belfast was and is the largest city, so it couldn't be easily labeled a Catholic or Protestant area, and the lines ended up being drawn by neighborhood. The fighting officially stopped about ten years ago with a treaty, but you still hear about the occasional bomb here and there.
That's about as good as I can do in two paragraphs, look up more if you're interested, or just e-mail me.
After the Ferris Wheel ride, we walked north a bit then started west on Shankill Rd. It's a Protestant area where historically quite a bit of violence took place. One of my professors told a story about getting off the bus there once to find that everything was on fire. However, we went during the day, and in the 21st century, both of which I consider to be good moves. Basically, it's a fairly normal commercial street with shops and businesses and an occasional gas station. That is, with the exception of murals and political graffitti, both of which were notable. I didn't see a lot of random crudeness on the walls. People who buy spraypaint in Belfast do it because they have something poignant to say, and that doesn't include "for a good time, call..."
We stopped briefly at Woodvale Park (point D) and then walked through a very confusing suburban neighborhood (note our travel path between D and E; it was actually a bit windier than that, I think). At E, there was a large gate through a wall that was covered in razor wire. This separated Shankill from the Catholic neighborhood of Clonard.
(A mural'd gate) (yes, razor wire. They didn't call them the Troubles for nothing)
And here's where I make the point about the murals. In Shankill, they looked like this:
(A mural calling out the IRA on their "strategy") (The UVF, aka The People's Army, are noble soldiers and peacemakers, while the IRA are scary and wear black masks)
Once we crossed the gate, the murals became a little different:
(Glorifying the Irish guys with the guns) (Calling out the English army on the Ballymurphy Massacre.)
Seeing the murals confirmed what I had already learned. While they were, in one sense, propaganda, the were also legitimate memorials to people who had been wrongly killed (as though anyone is rightly killed). The IRA mostly killed Protestant civilians, and the UVF and British army killed mostly Catholic civilians. There were very few cases where two groups of people with guns ever faced each other head on and had a shoot-out. I'm not trying to say that a shoot-out is a noble form of warfare. It's not. I'm merely saying that people who never intended to fight suddenly became part of the fight, if it could even be called a fight. The Troubles consisted of mostly marketplace bombings and shootings from each paramilitary group, and thousands of people died as a result.
The thing that defied my expectations was the lack of general peace murals. No images of Republican and Loyalist children playing side by side, or anything like that. Like in the Buffalo Springfield song, the murals "mostly say 'hooray for our side.'" Those that don't say "damn the other side for killing us." I expected at least one "hey guys let's all stop with this fighting, shall we?" Maybe we were in the wrong neighborhoods, or maybe they don't exist. I'm not sure yet, though I'd like to find out.
We wandered around some suburbs in the Irish part of town (around point F) where some official-looking people were hanging plain black flags on fences and poles. I never found out what they were for, though I kind of wish I'd asked. Annie and EC attempted to befriend two dogs, but they were having none of it. They became suddenly aggressive, and although they didn't touch us, we were all a bit freaked out. This is notable mainly because I was actually the least freaked out of the three of us when faced with a vicious dog. Those of you who have known me since childhood will verify that this is not typical. So, that was our 14 km trip. We stopped for some giant sandwiches, then headed back to the hostel.
I got up early the next morning to check out Belfast's botanical gardens. There's a huge rose garden with somewhere around 50 different kinds of roses, most of which have ridiculous names. Some had random abstract nouns, including two right next to each other called "Freedom" and "Mischief." I wish I could make a joke here and say that Freedom smells a lot like Mischief, but really, neither of them smelled like much of anything. Both were past their season (not a metaphor). Others were named after people, which was even funnier. At one point I was, in all seriousness, sniffing Uncle Pete, and I started cracking up.
After Belfast, I had a three-hour layover in Amsterdam, which might have the most ridiculous airport in the world, although I can't say that for sure until I've been to all of them. However, I feel comfortable saying that it's large, confusing, and expensive. But, I made it home, and now I'm back in Copenhagen where there's an annoying amount of schoolwork and other things I'd rather not have to deal with. It's only been 24 hours and I'm already longing for winter break. At this very moment, I'm not feeling particularly positive, but I think tomorrow will ease that a bit. I've got six things weighing on my mind right now, but four or five of them are going to be resolved by mid-afternoon tomorrow, and I'll feel a little less overwhelmed. I'll leave you with one final image for this evening:
(The obligatory adorable group pose. EC, Annie, me.)
Galway is more or less a typical college town. There's plenty of cheap food, bars, and trendy shops. The whole place appears to be built around the school, as most of the people I ran into around town, whether it was 5PM or 2AM, were young university students. At around 2:00 one night, a bar/nightclub closed for the evening and there was what could only be described as a stampede of around 150 drunk college kids staggering in my direction. I momentarily thought he zombie apocalypse had come, but then I saw one hold his drink in the air and yell "WOOOOOO!!" and I realized that I was facing an entirely different type of zombie horde.
I got to go to see a different free live music nearly every night with EC and Annie, occasionally joined by an Irish buddy named Gar (rhymes with "dare"). Monday we went to a traditional tunes session, which usually includes about 4-5 people and takes over a corner of a place called the Crane Bar. The night we were there, however, it took up half the room and included about a dozen musicians (including five flutes! FIVE!) Wednesday we saw a mandolin/guitar duo who played a mix of modern acoustic covers, with a few Irish tunes thrown in. They played a couple Tom Waits songs, much to Gar's delight, but we were more or less the only people listening. The music was occasionally drowned out by a group of loud college rugby players in the back corner of the room. Apparently, they'd won a match and were celebrating. The final night in Galway we saw a great blues band whose singer and lead guitarist could have passed for Derek Trucks, both in appearance and talent.
Wednesday night while on our search for music, EC, Gar and I ran into an older guy with an awesome moustache. Gar knew him from some previous encounters, and he hung out with us for the evening. His name was Michael, and he was a self-described poet, though it doesn't seem like he considers that his full-time job (how many do?). Generally jovial person, and we got some banter going. He joked that the weather turned sour as soon as I showed up. I pointed out that one of the days had been beautiful with an awesome rainbow, and he asked me if I could work on doing that again. I told him that rainbows are expensive, and I can't just go dropping rainbows every other day; they're an investment saved only for special occasions. He laughed. It wasn't the most substantial conversation of the week, but he was a nice guy, and I wish him the best.
A while after Michael joined us, a girl named Maria followed suit. She's been helping Michael type up his poetry. I'm not clear on how they met or what the connection was, but I'm glad she joined the conversation. She's originally from Argentina, but had been living in Ireland for a few years. We talked at length about Peace Studies, and how I should really go to Argentina, where there are hundreds of human rights groups, labor groups, etc.. I told her I'm open to pretty much anything once I'm done with college, but I'd definitely want a plan, because randomly showing up to help may not be helpful at all. Maria told me that getting there would be easy. There are lots of jobs available on ships, and as a result, I could go to Argentina for free. Admittedly, that wasn't what I meant when I said "a plan" (I'm not worried about how to GET to Argentina), but that's cool to know, and one of many possibilities for the future. I am aware, however, that there is a big difference between working on a ship and "let's all sing another sea shanty with the folks dressed up as pirates."
On Friday, EC, Annie and I boarded a bus to Belfast for the weekend. On the trip, and old woman came over completely out of the blue and talked to me for the last 90 minutes of our 6 hour bus ride. This woman basically told me her life story, mostly about all the places she had gone in Europe to do various charity and social action work. I could tell when she started that she needed to talk to me a lot more than I needed to do my fourth crossword puzzle of the day, so I put it down and listened. In retrospect, it was exactly what I needed too. I didn't really have the energy to put into a conversation, but I was getting bored, and she turned the trip into storytime.
She mostly talked about the work she had done, which included helping children in war-torn areas and raising money for the wheelchair-bound. She may not have spent every moment of her life helping others, it was certainly the only thing she talked about. It could easily have been seen as bragging, and one of my travelling companions suggested later that she might have been making parts of it up. I wouldn't completely rule it out; it's certainly possible, and I'm not going out of my way to verify her story. It's more or less irrelevant to me, though. The important thing about the conversation was that the story she told was completely attainable. It seemed so simple when she was talking. There's no reason I can't just spend my life travelling around and helping people. I just have to do it. So simple. I know where to go, I know who needs help, I know how to help them. The only thing stopping me is my own head. I guess I get afraid of commitment, like I might devote too much to one cause and somehow get "stuck" or "roped in." Then again, my alternative usually involves video games. So... what's worse, really?
So, that was a nice realization. I'm not sure what it is about me that attracts conversation from people over 60 (a scent, perhaps?) but they have all been either interesting or amusing, so I'm okay with it. Speaking of which, I've got a story about an old drunk guy from Cork that I skipped earlier, but let's call this a spoiler for the next post. Our conversation included the phrase "it's nice to be nice," which I think lands somewhere between "zen" and "drunk" from a linguistic perspective.
