tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38277698504372180282024-02-18T22:19:15.131-08:00BOW: International DevelopmentAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01555385016185389953noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-15112945463242072672017-09-18T19:06:00.001-07:002017-09-18T19:12:21.581-07:00Reflection and other good stuff<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Affordable Design and Entrepreneurship and IDIN has meant a great deal for me. It is one of the few experiences in my college years where I felt like I was creating impact, and allowed me to do so "long - term" (longer than a semester). The opportunity to continue my team's work during the summer just shows how dedicated the ADE and IDIN team are to my learning. If not for ADE, I would not have learned how to:</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">rent a truck & tow a trailer</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">gather hundred of survey responses</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">write & obtain grants</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">develop & test curriculum with youth</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">build a guitar</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">evaluate social impact</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">communicate among multiple community stakeholders</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">document decisions with video, images, & text</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">manage & measure team progress & health</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">build a business model</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">design, present, & share data</span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This summer, I was able to:</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Individually meet with over 20 community members</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Make 15 diddley bows with 15 students</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Present at the iRise Educational Conference Conference</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Host a 3 day STEM camp at Coahoma Community College with 35 1st-6th graders</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Make 2 electric guitars with 2 (full-time) students</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Help the team obtain the <a href="https://4pt0.org/tiny/">Tiny Fellowship</a>, $10,000 + year-long mentorship for the pilot program</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Help the team obtain the <a href="https://www.fordblueovalnetwork.org/contests/ford-c3">Ford Grant</a> ($25,000)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Help the team obtain a Community Foundation of Northwest Mississippi Grant ($7,000)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Support two other partner organizations: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CrossroadsCulturalArtsCenter/">Crossroads Cultural Arts Center</a> & <a href="https://www.lobaki.com/">Clarksdale's Virtual Reality Center</a></span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Not only were the experiences rewarding, the class and the network gave proof that it is possible to do impactful design work without having to compromise my values. ADE carries many parallels to life. The pillars of the class--humility, people, impact, and justice--are also ones I carry in my life. For both, I have to acknowledge and prepare for my impermanence. I know that I will need to leave, so I need to learn how to create net positive impact.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">During my last semester, Irene (teammate) and I found a general 'angst' among our team. We were all ping - ponging back and forth between tasks, which left us feeling like we never actually made any progress. Do we focus on developing our business model or applying for grants or branding our program? We were stressed, annoyed, and overworked yet cared so much. Irene and I coined this, "ADE angst" and defined it as t<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">he perpetually overwhelming existential crisis experienced by students of the Affordable Design and Entrepreneurship program, caused by a fear that there is so much important work to do and never enough time to get it all done. Which is basically life. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And even though it was rough at time, I am glad for the practice run. Observing my progress and reflecting upon my accomplishments give me hope that I will be able to do good during the rest of my time on this planet. </span></span></span><br />
<div>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "roboto"; font-size: 12pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-83277459019799266192017-08-31T09:24:00.002-07:002017-08-31T09:33:56.826-07:00Climbing Back Into Student Life My previous post mentioned a lot of differences about life in Uganda vs life in the US. While I noticed those differences I never really noticed how those differences changed me. This is a window into my experience getting back into the swing of American life and discovering just how much I had gotten used to the Ugandan culture.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Let's start at the airport. I was flying from Entebbe, Uganda to Nairobi, Kenya to visit my brother who was working for a stove manufacturing business. We arrived at the airport 5 hours early. Before my stay in Uganda, that would have been a vast amount of time. I would need to bring something to do, check emails, solve Rubik's cubes, play games on my phone, anything to fill the time with countless activities. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now, I wasn't thinking of any of that. I was just glad we made it to the airport before my plane left. My phone had stopped working, and I didn't have the parts to fix it since there aren't any iPhone parts where I was in Uganda. But even without my gadgets to constantly occupy my mind, I was content. The wait didn't seem too long. I was used to letting time slip by, and just experiencing what was happening around me. In Uganda, there could have been any number of things that would cause a wrinkle in our schedule, and have us arrive at the airport too late. There, time is fluid.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I met my brother Ben at the Nairobi airport and immediately noticed a change in tone. The air was less humid. There were more cars, more people walking with purpose instead of strolling around the street. It felt as if I was no longer wading in water and my legs could once again move quickly - almost too quickly. We arrived at the house Ben was staying at after everyone had already gone to bed.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The next morning, I got up at 7 to leave for the stove factory at 7:30. The first person I met was a bright-eyed college design grad from Michigan. He was bustling about his morning making a tropical fruit smoothie for breakfast (The mangoes are really impressive in East Africa). I noticed a few things. He reminded me instantly of what I imagined all working class people were like. In about two minutes he had made himself breakfast, introduced himself, had a conversation with me about Uganda, sent a few text messages, gotten ready for work, and started to drink his smoothie. This guy radiated productivity--much in contrast to everyone else I had met in my last two months. Where I had been in Uganda it took two minutes to get the water to wash your hands for breakfast. </div>
<div>
This was a similar theme throughout my gradual acceleration into american culture again. I felt slow. My mind didn't make connections as fast as it used to. Yes, some of it may have been that I was just used to conversing with people who learned English as a second language, and was overwhelmed with the speed conversations were going. But I still felt like a spectator witnessing all of the cool action going on around me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There were other aspects of american culture that I was less excited for. My distance from American culture gave me a good vantage point to view American Capitalism. Maybe we don't need another product for every tiny discomfort that will just get thrown out at the end of the day.<br />
People here get worried about the littlest things! Coming through security, there was someone at the airport who was complaining about everything he could possibly complain about. The line, the people, the temperature, his bags. When the security official asked him to examine his bag, he replied "I think you've given me enough trouble already." While this is an extreme case, it does expose that developed worlds don't usually embrace humble values.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I think the most important change that I noticed in myself while returning is my understanding of my personal values. Personal connections with people around me are now much higher on that list than they were last spring, and productivity much lower.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14924745251898599646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-10363110549542339982017-08-25T17:28:00.001-07:002017-08-25T17:28:26.576-07:00Building Guitars With YouthBy August, I was scrambling to find people to build guitars with. The youth in Bobo never showed up, despite showing interest and enthusiasm. Maybe the summer had more interesting things to offer. So after several weeks of trying to make it work, Tarra, Coahoma County's Culture and Arts Coordinator, and I decided to try to gather some youth in Rena Lara instead. Rena Lara is a small community about 20 mins southwest of Clarksdale, Mississippi.<br />
<br />
<img height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmmp487A4qzbOlhYBzRQAnzEPSzkMkEU_sSSjkKcOTh_uOIx9dnJ_kMrJYeO-serxBEWrjm8GrS1r_OyaB9JjkMbJ-mSf-w6feM1D9KrEqz7o5gEG_0S5DClLH9ubPiole6dqeM2G7/w784-h441-no/" width="320" /> <img height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL-Aea7VGgqioI6cecKyGfF-UetICD_O15tVcwdyLjb6JWX548AMf1ZwAXRwYj20ZCnA8BltQdyPm9EAGhyphenhyphen71hSPTv5bt9g10Kb_EnjcLSUBEtV0Ygg8zT1qYmlsjiLG4EOb4705YF/w784-h441-no/" width="320" /><br />
<br />
Four girls showed up interested, which was comforting. I was in a rush to build the electric guitars since I only had two more weeks in town, but a part of me was uncomfortable. The girls were not in our target audience. All of them were under the age of 14 (we are trying to reach high school aged students), they were pretty well off, and two of them were not local. I knew I would not be able to rally any more young people, so we jumped right in.<br />
<br />
The first day, they broke off into two teams. One team for cutting out the body of one guitar and the other team for drilling holes on the other. They enjoyed the activity, and we planned out the meeting times for the upcoming days. I was a bit naive. I learned a big lesson the following day.<br />
<br />
<img height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhujrJZE1ozIx3iQkWAgJ7NaUbePaCR6P2EQAGVCd2qKQv0HXzacQxvmPsi8AoKbzVccFb8GRstXzb7_qPBprNkm2GH_DwinrUnpn5YOazWvFDGZsawGlJZhtI1KqZrN44ZtcIk5pjd/w784-h441-no/" width="320" /> <img height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYAYW-tpMAlNzlufjoFt3nKsYurywybAAnmJELObU6ptd5FXeU3qe_EYCipr8rKt0IjqK_NPYAdJlioM-ueyTleaiGl4EWyFUiUMNOzbxjJ7Kp70bHUhu2B2KN3JXfadhfix8_l1c/w784-h441-no/" width="320" /><br />
<br />
LESSON 1: BE CLEAR WHERE THE GUITAR WILL END UP<br />
Only two of the four students showed up the next day. The two who showed up were sisters. I learned that the others quit because they did not know where the guitars would end up. It seemed unfair to just give it to someone else. I propose we try to auction one and give the other to the library. That did not seem to sit well with the sisters, but they agreed that the activity was fun on its own and decided to continue forward.<br />
<br />
The two sisters were self-driven and focused. No matter the task, they were confident that they could complete it. I found that confidence incredibly soothing since there were moments when I was uncertain of how to finish the guitars. They learned to solder, spray paint, drill, saw, and sand. Each day, they asked to stay longer. They really liked building the guitars, and proclaimed that if the workshop did not exist, they would be at home watching TV.<br />
<br />
<img height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtNc2yX1iJKHDJ0CaPdFZnNKDXfmxkwTO5IdpXYRHJ7L15F0U3e-60eECVu9KBHs66WQBJ0s5egiwRd0Le5eKqk4yBrRV0Zyn5Eamr57nxUNinD4i_52F45_CB0_tLh5XKFfEpvPXG/w784-h441-no/" width="320" /> <img height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTqfPIZOyMOrRZKBnswfJ3X9GiRe5iDPsVdA9Tprflq7Fz_z1UNNcxmRDGDsTqcdqf0PSlFvsbt_6VA15xXfo2cdpX6d1I7-pGDgaM1K4m9lKWor05Wet7LgZ7PAXvhasMcdqMG3gR/w784-h441-no/" width="320" /><br />
<br />
<br />
LESSON 2: BRING THE PARENTS ON BOARD<br />
Their father was a huge supporter. He was responsive, and brought them in each day. On the first day, I made sure to get his contact information, and we agreed phone calls and texting were the best way to reach other. He also had some extra tools, like a jigsaw and drill, that he let us borrow.<br />
<br />
<img height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr4eKTLjPGvPism_HtxyeU6PB8bb_N0cNATuGjzdkWo92FgvNs3sCEW76VyK0vORV2VFKHCbShS7vuASPB6xvsplpcuIZWP92np_0fo_FazLUo6b5JK60KCgauo0lJmurqIEGSbyCe/w784-h441-no/" width="320" /> <img height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIkGxBxBaHoJQfWSX30NErU-KnfWXjXCnUsdGe-U6KL_RLsx03EQ5Ja1prk6bEhyphenhyphenlh8WiG_9YhUp769HTSDa_q3_BupqmiEqQ0LJREpRC7De9yz-e8F7t7WuKGV3xiifEP-S-a-Iq/w784-h441-no/" width="320" /><br />
<br />
After Jodie and Marria finished soldering and painting, all that was left was assembling the guitar. The activity lasted a week, approximately 30 hours, a bit faster than expected. Given, the necks were pre-fretted which took away about 80 hours.<br />
<br />
LESSON 3: DO INTERVIEWS AND TAKE PHOTOS UNTIL IT FEELS GROSS<br />
I have always been bad at photographing, but this time I made sure that I took photos of everything. Every time Jodie or Marria were moving to the next step, I took a photo and a video. It felt obscene. But looking back, I am really grateful. Having so many action photos makes it 10X easier when I show other people what I did for this summer than if I tried to explain it to them. I also took video interviews of Marria and Jodie separately about their learning goals and feelings about this curriculum. Not only is it incredibly useful to have user feedback and insights that the team can show others, Marria and Jodie also felt special being asked to do interviews.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<img height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEl5rAVe_hNRvC_c5oGxSI0XIINKbSioDvlgMGVeuVAnqAygMxQ_ckAopU1jkl1JyQqyWSeZCtz0nDusqDztfogroYOZuHXvAyyjrMEF_UAJjDS7j74nTmFYeSd1piSd4CN3pZXgLi/w784-h441-no/" width="640" /><br />
<br />
Right now, Jodie and Marria are back in Texas with their mother. They definitely wanted to come back next summer to do it again, or even teach others. One guitar is with them, and the other one is on display at the Carnegie Public Library. There is still a lot to learn and iterate on, but it is a good place to start.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-1426156832741442342017-08-24T13:33:00.000-07:002017-08-24T13:33:06.882-07:00Transitioning Back<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’ve been having difficulty writing this final blog
for a while now. It’s been about a month since I’ve returned from my home in
Soroti, Uganda. As the days pass by, I wait for passively for a solution for
all the problems in the world to appear. But unfortunately or maybe
fortunately, the world is not black and white. There is no simple revelation
from my time abroad, no easy epiphany that will rid the world of problems. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkrcTzhhPcu1xoE_EaMwM9yNQHzJnA7x_hMOoJvaDRpYzSIzWQLCR5AMvCXLsk5JxZqvKamcPyuAW760NVCCsHl3dISISIP9bM5CrKtrJGZLiZ9fZaIeinWXTqJjbKma2vm0V-SkQefkJ/s1600/DSCN5201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkrcTzhhPcu1xoE_EaMwM9yNQHzJnA7x_hMOoJvaDRpYzSIzWQLCR5AMvCXLsk5JxZqvKamcPyuAW760NVCCsHl3dISISIP9bM5CrKtrJGZLiZ9fZaIeinWXTqJjbKma2vm0V-SkQefkJ/s320/DSCN5201.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our last day in Soroti</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When I first got off the plane from Kampala, Uganda and
entered the Amsterdam airport, I immediately thought that everything was so
clean- from the sparkly white floor, to the plethora of lights making
impossible to tell whether its day or night, to the rows of stores begging
passersby to buy the highest brand purse or watch. The first store on the right
had a red sign declaring that Lola by Dior was being sold for only one hundred
and fifteen euros – more than Betty’s sheet metal workers make in a year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Despite my efforts, I couldn’t help being disgusted.
As I walked by each high end boutique with advertisements designed to propagate
insecurities and create unnecessary desires all in the interest of making money,
I wasn’t sure if I was in a dream. A toddler was crying about not being able to
play on his dad’s iphone, a young teenage girl was pouting to her mom, two men
tried to make their way to the front of the security line by cutting anyone
they could. Voyagers looked tired, parents had a short temper, and children
wanted more. I don’t mean any of this with reproach – traveling is very tiring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But the combination of stores telling me to buy, buy,
buy and families with Gucci bags and Swiss watches complaining about waiting
for their plane, really emphasized that the disproportionate wealth
distribution is a terrible problem and one that is so difficult to solve.
That’s definitely one of the worst part about culture shock- really realizing
that you are living in excess wealth but that you can’t just throw money at a
problem. Now I don’t even think that throwing time and education will solve
anything either.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There is no simple solution to helping underprivileged
communities in Boston, or in the United States or around the world – I think
everyone can attest to that. In fact sometimes I now think that helping people
around the world is not a solution, which is very difficult for me to accept.
But this does not mean I think we should allow ignorance to be our bliss. We
should be very aware of all the privileges that we all have. But other than
that, I have no idea what we should all do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186212185164588475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-61830262101451851012017-07-26T03:16:00.002-07:002017-07-26T03:16:51.139-07:00Untold Stories<div class="MsoNormal">
As I end my journey in Uganda (eet), I wanted to share some fictional
stories of the lives of people here. Even if these stories are not necessarily
true, they are the truth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Upon hearing the rustling in the mango tree I was climbing
one day, I turn to see a young girl, no older than nine, perched on a very thin
branch. She smiles mischievously, plucks a mango, and says hello. After one
bite, she throws it down onto the ground. That’s when I hear a young girl
sighing in very good English, “These children always waste.” Right below my
feet, stands a young girl. As she climbs up, I climb down to meet her. With
ease, she introduces herself and begins asking me so many questions about my
life. We interrogate each other, cautious in the beginning, but gaining
confidence with each answer, both curious about the other’s world. She stops
the conversation at one point stating, “You people, you people are very good.
Africans are very bad.” My mind struggled to find the right words. How could
explain that all humans can be bad or good? And that white people have been
especially cruel and conniving to the Africans? Should I delve into basic
morality? I think I managed something along the lines of no no no, we are not
good. We are both bad and good just like Africans. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At one point, I’m pulled away from our conversation to play
a game of football and I say goodbye to Mary, the girl from the mango tree. As
I attempt to play against my highly skilled coworkers, she goes back to her grass
hut, only a couple hundred feet away. She starts cooking her family dinner at
5:30 p.m. – Thursdays are her night to cook dinner ever since her mom was sent
to the hospital. As she lights the charcoal in her cook stove, her mind wanders,
joining the smoke from the fire. She thinks about her dad, and how if the
jealous men had not shot him down, then maybe her mom would not be in the
hospital. Maybe she would be able to go to school past the end of the week,
because his knack for selling cars kept their family well off. But as she adds
the cassava flour to the boiling water to make atapa, the local bread, she
knows that these thoughts will not get her anywhere. She leaves the cook stove
and goes to where the people who make cook stoves play football and watches. As
Juma easily takes the ball away from me, I catch a glimpse of her. I wave, she
waves back. After the game when I go to talk to her, she has already gone back
to finish making dinner. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can hear Ochieng before you can see him. His laugh penetrates
your entire body, to which you instinctively join him, shaking with laughter.
His skill with sheet metal – he works in the cook stove industry- and his
willingness to help anyone, made him loved by his fellow coworkers. As he
spends his days hammering, cutting, and bending, he makes his comrades laugh by
teasing them incessantly. At only nineteen years old, he was already making the
best cook stoves at the factory.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ever since he was about eight years old, Ochieng had been
working with sheet metal. His dad, too poor to feed him and his other children,
told him to work. He learned how to cut keys from his father, then quickly
moved from trade to trade, picking up skills as he went. He went from being a pool
connoisseur, to a welder, to a cook stove maker. When he was young he went to
school, and even got a scholarship from the school for three years for his
talent for long jump. But eventually the school fees were taxing, and he
stopped going to school.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not going to school changed his life. He knew that he would
always need to make money by trade, so he decided to always do his best at no
matter what job he did. He wanted to be rich. He had a dream of being a pilot,
but needed money in order to get there. Without a high school diploma, he would
have to start saving up for a long time. He spent little on himself, never
buying things in excess, eating little. But when times were hard, he always gave
what he had saved to his mom or dad, so that they could use it to feed
themselves.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you talk with Ochieng, you could never imagine the pain
that he hid. You could never imagine that when he was seventeen years old, his
childhood friend got pregnant. And that when she went into labor, there were
medical complications that required a lot of money. You would not be able to
tell that Ochieng spent days and nights finding that money, selling off his
mattress and clothes and anything he could. That he resorted to begging,
despite having promised himself that he would never do that. And you would not
be able to know that a couple months after his girlfriend got better, he would
walk home to an empty house, no traces of his girlfriend or his son anywhere. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ochieng hid his pain away, focusing instead on his goal of
becoming rich. He no longer talks to girls. When a girl says hi to him on the
street, he will not respond. One girl told him that she loved him, and he told
her to never say that again. If he wanted to give his son a better life and to
get out a poverty, he could not be distracted by women. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yet, even fixated on this goal, Ochieng always gives more
than he has to everyone else. He forgoes dinner several nights a week in order
to save enough money to give to the starving woman down the street. He offers
his time to help the cook stove newbies, allowing them to catch up with the
rest of the workers. He’ll watch his neighbor’s kids when they need him to. And
at night, when he has time to himself, he goes on walks, reflecting on his
life. He sits on his favorite log, looks up at an airplane flying above, and
wonders what life is like in other parts of the world. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Emma was twenty six years old when he finished college. He
was the third youngest in his class; most students took time off between
semesters, since they could not afford to go every term. He had been sick with
malaria while taking his final exams, so he waited in fear to learn whether or
not he passed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While he waited for about a year, he needed to find some way
to make a living. So he ran into debt with a motorcycle dealership, and became
a boda-boda. Life was fair; he was grateful for the steady income that trickled
in every day, but he was restless. Waiting for hours at the boda-boda stand for
a customer to come was tedious. Sometimes he would drive around looking for
someone to pick up, but he always had to find a balance between aimlessly
driving around for customers and not wasting too much gas. Mondays were always
the worst. After the weekend, people were refreshed and often did not spend
money on a boda-boda. Them saving money, meant him losing money. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But he always made sure to look his best for his customers.
He kept his clothes very clean and his hair short. He cleaned his motorcycle
every other day. At nights when the day was over, Emma would go back to his
rented home, bathe, and go to the neighborhood restaurant. He goes to the same
restaurant every day owned by a forty three year old women named Helen. He gets
the usual of atapa and beans, winks at Helen, and compliments either her hair, her
clothes, or her cooking. After dinner he always walks around with his friends
that come from the same district as him, listening to whatever new song someone
might have downloaded.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But June 31 was a different day - Emma will learn whether or
not he passed his exams. As usual Emma started his day at six, taking his
motorcycle along the usual route. But instead of stopping at the boda-boda
stand, he continued straight towards his college. When he arrived to the
Ugandan College of Commerce, he already saw a line of people waiting to hear
their news. He parked his motorcycle, walked up to the end of the line, and did
what one tends to do in Uganda: he waited. As hours passed by, he finally
reached the beginning of the line, where a young woman smiled pitifully and
handed him an envelope. Too nervous to open it in at the front of the line, he
walked back to his motorcycle, his hands shaking. He carefully opened the seal,
pulled out the piece of paper, and read the first few sentences. His shoulders
relaxed, his hands unclenched, his spine stretched. He was a certified
accountant of Uganda.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186212185164588475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-7541757888511977112017-07-24T08:23:00.002-07:002017-07-24T08:23:43.518-07:00Testing The Guitar CurriculumI am currently in Clarksdale, Mississippi working with youth to build guitars from scratch. When locals hear that response, they raise their eyebrows and nod their heads because, while it may seem a bit unconventional, it also makes sense. Coahoma County is a rich artistic community. People are building and creating all the time. It is normal to hear a young person improvise a song about getting out of bed, or meet <a href="https://youtu.be/hwt4Ng3egUc">elders who perform at juke joints </a>they built themselves, or see families singing and celebrating every Sunday at church. So, building musical instruments with community members is understandable.<br />
<br />
<div>
The most exciting part about being here is that I am working on a project I've been a part of since January 2016. For almost two years, I've been learning about Coahoma County, collaborating with community members, and designing with youth through my Affordable Design and Entrepreneurship class. During those semesters, I had the opportunity to visit the county five times, and engage with hundreds of high schoolers. We asked them what they would like to learn through hands-on education, and music, performing and visual arts, technology, and entrepreneurship were the top voted areas. We developed a guitar curriculum to include all those parts. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Since May, I been testing the curriculum. I have worked with 15 middle and high schoolers who built 12 diddley bows, led a 3-day STEM camp for 35 youth, and hosted a pop-up activity with 10 kids. It's been great!</div>
<div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/YunNCrvPaNs/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YunNCrvPaNs?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
2 min video of the ADE Community Dev project</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Building diddley bows has definitely been a highlight of my time here. It's funny because when we start out, most of them are pretty confused. They follow the steps, build the body, put in the pick-ups, and once we start planning the design for the neck, the light bulb turns on and they get really excited. Last month when I was with 3 youth in Bobo, I ask them if they needed a break after working 3 hours straight, they all shook their heads and proclaimed they wanted to continue. Seeing that reaction was rewarding, and I hope in the future, our program will generate the same energy. </div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiaaNO1ohG34Pd99cj2pLJv3GZ97Wzf_tTFyt57HphDkiiF4RWfDnk8zEQTiE8CiuVqbLwmtYHfamGh9ZNeaOxEA31QK15dpbzvj_KsgD3DlvBnYm0oiDam5180JPaRAGQwrlN4BmW/s1600/20170608_180801.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiaaNO1ohG34Pd99cj2pLJv3GZ97Wzf_tTFyt57HphDkiiF4RWfDnk8zEQTiE8CiuVqbLwmtYHfamGh9ZNeaOxEA31QK15dpbzvj_KsgD3DlvBnYm0oiDam5180JPaRAGQwrlN4BmW/s400/20170608_180801.mp4" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Youth in Bobo celebrating their finished instruments</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In early June, I partnered with the Coahoma Community College to host a 3-day STEM camp. I asked for a cap of 15 students, and within a day, 35 students were signed up. I hadn't led a camp in years, and definitely was out of practice, but luckily the college staff was there to support me. During those three days, the group of 1st to 6th graders participated in a paper tower challenge, boat design challenge, and team building activities. They made collages, bottle rockets, and even tried coding. From what I heard, most of the youth enjoyed it, especially the bottle rockets, which gives me hope I did something right.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYM2xol5L_Hi_aKTUF2AIPQb-TYIljO8LPEueM_yUUfpVHivA8oEIdSJ7-lZbanJP0h-IpD6TEfZclVztIDszu1brfpC7Q6NhOo_CTI7psj4VEbQgabW3MZtC5XSx1xLgDiLwuof__/s1600/19023713_911561208985095_4780665889759501608_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="1430" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYM2xol5L_Hi_aKTUF2AIPQb-TYIljO8LPEueM_yUUfpVHivA8oEIdSJ7-lZbanJP0h-IpD6TEfZclVztIDszu1brfpC7Q6NhOo_CTI7psj4VEbQgabW3MZtC5XSx1xLgDiLwuof__/s400/19023713_911561208985095_4780665889759501608_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Building paper towers under time and resource constraints</div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
The next few weeks here, I will be building a guitar with 3 youth from Bobo, and I will keep you updated on our progress in future posts. Thanks for reading!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-10319898710533652102017-07-06T16:35:00.002-07:002017-07-07T12:42:35.274-07:00IDDS Life<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm writing from beautiful <span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Fusagasug</span><span style="background-color: white;">á, (say it five times fast) Colombia, where IDDS Climate Change Adaptation is being held at the University of Cundinamarca's sports center. There's a lot of high quality content about the summit being put out on U de C's youtube channel (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/Udecando/videos">https://www.youtube.com/user/Udecando/videos</a>) and on Facebook and Instagram (<a href="https://www.idin.org/blog-news-events/events/idds-climate-change-adaptation">https://www.idin.org/blog-news-events/events/idds-climate-change-adaptation</a>), so I'm just going to focus on my perspective on the summit and on life here. Some photos of the campus to get us started:</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKR9LOMxrHjEPAO8SHce0pPC1ZNaOpujyrM9vZef8TEmTzuWqplwv_5wC12tHG9s6n7qQIM0Tt3j1t43oTPCUDI0QEBGnFS8YgVDY7wUmAva06edHl-LqKeAuh9j8bAc1yDQc1xEKUpOki/s1600/IMG_20170627_124750999.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKR9LOMxrHjEPAO8SHce0pPC1ZNaOpujyrM9vZef8TEmTzuWqplwv_5wC12tHG9s6n7qQIM0Tt3j1t43oTPCUDI0QEBGnFS8YgVDY7wUmAva06edHl-LqKeAuh9j8bAc1yDQc1xEKUpOki/s400/IMG_20170627_124750999.jpg" width="224" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoelDZHfIUvMCNZ68Te1llvvG4ThiLLbTarrrX2lgxLUWi5iAVgU-WXff2ab6t6iygcTdzARh_BMdayn4v4JWNYG-wMXbbfyn9vnoQFOrv4z1fQ7iem-RhLAX5Vlbddq-7ZH4yKwEe564/s1600/IMG_20170701_141017949_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoelDZHfIUvMCNZ68Te1llvvG4ThiLLbTarrrX2lgxLUWi5iAVgU-WXff2ab6t6iygcTdzARh_BMdayn4v4JWNYG-wMXbbfyn9vnoQFOrv4z1fQ7iem-RhLAX5Vlbddq-7ZH4yKwEe564/s400/IMG_20170701_141017949_HDR.jpg" width="224" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The horse who lives here, whom I have dubbed Campus Horse. He's not really concerned about rules or boundaries and just sort of wanders as he pleases. There are also two cows, but they mostly stay in their field.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu5T6kU_h19H-oTrcj-qRPGserecYN_Atq-tLu0_zwaQVsTgtNiQpFoGik4IX2bF-50CTHGgpbzuO299OnPG7iqE-E9PMIo7oVY_5MnZe0RlKfeDyQMBnH3jpPecACxTkjskmGV74072uV/s1600/IMG_20170701_163526985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu5T6kU_h19H-oTrcj-qRPGserecYN_Atq-tLu0_zwaQVsTgtNiQpFoGik4IX2bF-50CTHGgpbzuO299OnPG7iqE-E9PMIo7oVY_5MnZe0RlKfeDyQMBnH3jpPecACxTkjskmGV74072uV/s320/IMG_20170701_163526985.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Participants hard at work on their design challenge outside of the gym-turned-workshop.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdJYvn7LhW7yXDvfPvcpw58WE6q1l83amj130Lj6unbYgUIIpMqj47AhfjGUVcf3q_nz1e0toRGAAqm-Yy5nqsNM-OpFINnWvUdGqdrH1pjxEr_Daq5wsWUxv7kVIqNUfI_Ztoyz4IpCk/s1600/IMG_20170704_081351013_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdJYvn7LhW7yXDvfPvcpw58WE6q1l83amj130Lj6unbYgUIIpMqj47AhfjGUVcf3q_nz1e0toRGAAqm-Yy5nqsNM-OpFINnWvUdGqdrH1pjxEr_Daq5wsWUxv7kVIqNUfI_Ztoyz4IpCk/s320/IMG_20170704_081351013_HDR.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A very big palm tree outside the dining hall.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Life here is really good. Showers are cold, wifi is limited, and bugs are rampant (currently having a bit of a strange allergic reaction), but I really don't mind any of that. I'm living in a double room with another girl from the organizing team, and we share a bathroom with one other roommate pair. My time is mostly spent in the workshop, teaching participants to use tools, documenting projects, and doing odd jobs. My hands are always covered in small cuts, and at this point I'm sure my nails will never be clean again, but it's some of the most fulfilling work I've ever done. In the mornings, I often have the opportunity to go for a short run on the concrete track, but breakfast starts at 7am and organizer meetings and nighttime hanging out sometimes run until midnight, so I'm trying to live a balanced lifestyle and prioritize sleep. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyIGBVk_Mk2vHdJM3TulDoYltnBkOrKjMuPfmBW0KCva439G6J5ciFtB3GpcvhfDh0WqJKmL5QwgqVvw2G4mT-rIPH3Tq9VHdxjqBKBGlrzyBLdO6gaQYwH9E7k5uHEDMrY4EZPiIeQ3g/s1600/IMG_20170706_175451078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyIGBVk_Mk2vHdJM3TulDoYltnBkOrKjMuPfmBW0KCva439G6J5ciFtB3GpcvhfDh0WqJKmL5QwgqVvw2G4mT-rIPH3Tq9VHdxjqBKBGlrzyBLdO6gaQYwH9E7k5uHEDMrY4EZPiIeQ3g/s320/IMG_20170706_175451078.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The workshop (my second home).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2dppvtRY-rz-Z9CbykWwDf4TG4qolQ_JWJVbOlt-0mJCEGaC4zgWiRutnqqTlX-x1UtAs41MIyBO4YtE3-99hvIMjITRCWxeJ4KX9w7Dxxw5YI5BaQ0rPEtjlKyeala-F1o_QaE42yQ4/s1600/IMG_20170706_175528434_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2dppvtRY-rz-Z9CbykWwDf4TG4qolQ_JWJVbOlt-0mJCEGaC4zgWiRutnqqTlX-x1UtAs41MIyBO4YtE3-99hvIMjITRCWxeJ4KX9w7Dxxw5YI5BaQ0rPEtjlKyeala-F1o_QaE42yQ4/s320/IMG_20170706_175528434_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The track and soccer field, complete with forested mountain backdrop.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Speaking of breakfast, the food here is absolutely incredible. Meals rarely happen on time (this is still Colombia), but the kitchen is very aware of the presence of foreigners and seems to be really stepping it up. We also get to drink amazing coffee from local farms, and I've completely abandoned my tea-drinking roots. We all eat together, and mealtimes have been a great opportunity to get to know some participants. They're from near and far, and work in many different fields, but they all care deeply about solving the challenges of climate change. The accents from different parts of Latin America sometimes confound me (sorry Uruguay), but everyone is friendly, patient, and involved in really cool work. I'm also one of the younger people around, so hearing about people's paths is also really interesting and inspiring.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Watching the execution of the summit itself has also been really cool given my background. The material that the summit covers is basically the second part of UOCD (mandatory Olin human-centered design class) with the addition of maybe one prototyping cycle, but packed into three weeks. It's intense, hard to execute in a culture without punctuality, and definitely not perfect, but participants get to work in very close contact with local communities. There are unique challenges here. What do you do when community members aren't as engaged as you thought they would be? When the project direction you've been planning for months falls through? We're also getting to the point in the summit where participants are starting to have complaints and criticism, which is super interesting from an Olin perspective. Going to a small college with experimental classes and an emphasis on feedback makes think I've heard every complaint that there is to complain about design curriculum, but I thought wrong. I feel like having experience with how students react to design curriculum gives me more of an insight into what are actual problems with the class and what are parts of the process that students just need to accept, but it's still difficult to distinguish. I don't think I would be ready to be a design facilitator in charge of a team, so I'm glad that I just get to help out and be along for the ride. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I'm trying to get as much out of the opportunity to be here as I can. I've learned some new techniques for problem framing and insights into team formation, and there are many more lectures for me to sit in the back of and conversations with talented designers to be had. I've also been able to visit some of the communities that we're working with, which has been incredible. I spent the 4th of July at three different farms, and found myself in a blackberry field at the top of a mountain at sunset, which was absolutely transcendent. I only took two photos, and they don't even begin to capture the moment, but I still want to close with one of them. Your coffee comes from a magical place.</span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZ6wgxuugpeKP9imnj8ORam12GroGGQ0YSKdURCKnlV1mXyAwJmyHTq_PuMgjSqro8zzhN82ls4YvDpHWf8a71dDPAfODX3smphk51u-1wC1x7BQ1YogLTHDQg9tuvceusVGrGIpVyA0T/s1600/IMG_20170704_175530097_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZ6wgxuugpeKP9imnj8ORam12GroGGQ0YSKdURCKnlV1mXyAwJmyHTq_PuMgjSqro8zzhN82ls4YvDpHWf8a71dDPAfODX3smphk51u-1wC1x7BQ1YogLTHDQg9tuvceusVGrGIpVyA0T/s640/IMG_20170704_175530097_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tourism board here doesn't have to lie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09116796530477482376noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-19529014415752551422017-06-30T09:22:00.000-07:002017-07-07T12:43:27.837-07:00Diving into East African Life<div class="MsoNormal">
When you travel to a very new place, you notice the
differences first. Similarities come later. As this is my first blog post, I’ll
do my best to give a few good pictures of some differences.<br />
<ul>
<li>I noticed the first difference when I stepped
off the plane. The air here is simply mostly water. No need for Chap Stick,
just try not to drown in the humidity.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Uganda was settled by England right? Yeah, so
people speak English and I won’t need to worry about understanding anyone.</li>
</ul>
<ol><ul>
<li>HA! I only asked “what?... say again?... Huh?”
about 6 times before resorting to s<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">miling
and laughing nervously to myself. Yes, people speak English, but there was
still going to be a language barrier.</span></li>
</ul>
</ol>
<ul>
<li>Still at the airport, we got used to the idea
that things in Uganda just take more time. Period. When we got out of the
airport, Betty had been waiting outside for two hours. Our plane had landed 5
minutes late. This is the first of many examples.</li>
</ul>
<ol><ul>
<li>Food can take many hours to cook. A good dinner
here usually boils for about three hours, unless it’s beans where it can take
more like 6 or 7</li>
<li>A simple exchange at the bank that would take
only 3 minutes in the states might take a few hours since the line moves so
slowly. (Something in the computer system?)</li>
<li>Lighting a gas stove in America takes about 2
seconds, here it takes about 20 minutes to light a fire and get the charcoal
set</li>
</ul>
</ol>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 1.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoAQc-jQvAH7l5gcjNZqaGuGoo4fyoYgtnsvFe-nPLiev-pKn5WIwTdwtkaQ09uttzI4L02b1eMLt2WrXKhN3OS0_8CE6yLh3gpsKb-Xpnv6EapyYkk3r8jwejF5vNp786xpqqlAeOFwIj/s1600/IMG_3212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoAQc-jQvAH7l5gcjNZqaGuGoo4fyoYgtnsvFe-nPLiev-pKn5WIwTdwtkaQ09uttzI4L02b1eMLt2WrXKhN3OS0_8CE6yLh3gpsKb-Xpnv6EapyYkk3r8jwejF5vNp786xpqqlAeOFwIj/s320/IMG_3212.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A luxurious four burner Charcoal stove</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<ul style="text-indent: 0px;">
<li>The other half of the large bag was being carried by Betty’s friend who lived close to the airport. On the way to the car, we seemed to run into almost every passerby coming the opposite direction on the path.</li>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Riiiight… England settled Uganda. Brits drive on the left.</span></li>
</ul>
<li>We took a bus the next morning to Soroti (the town we’d be working in for the next month and a half). I quickly learned that transportation in Uganda was not decided by the traveler. As soon as the bus company learned we were trying to get to Soroti, my bags were already out of the car we had come in, and I was being dragged by 3 shouting men into the bus entrance along with Katya and Betty, (who seemed as if nothing was out of the ordinary)</li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-indent: 0px;">
<li>Looking around a city street packed with people, I was painfully aware that we were the only people in sight that did not have African skin, and judging by the looks everyone was giving us on the street, there were not many others in the whole city.</li>
<ul>
<li>After getting to Soroti we realized that we may very well be the only “mzungus” in living in the entire city. (Mzungu is a word for white foreigner, and all of the small children smile and laugh and yell “mzungu hi!”, “mzungu how are you?” “Mzungu!”)</li>
</ul>
</ul>
<ul style="text-indent: 0px;">
<li>I had thought it was hot the night we flew in. I was in for a real surprise when I was sitting in a crowded bus with my knees jammed into the seat in front of me under the baking sun coming through the window.</li>
<ul>
<li>Not only do you swim in the air here, you swim in your sweat.</li>
</ul>
</ul>
<ul style="text-indent: 0px;">
<li>Roads in the US are generally paved, and generally passable at about the speed limit. Uganda does not follow suit. Some of the road to Soroti was absolutely gorgeous, not a blip in sight. Other parts were colored bright rusty red since they were made from the local soil, and the surface was probably more pothole than not pothole.</li>
<ul>
<li>Almost all the road work is imported from India or other Asian countries despite there being an enormous population that would be willing to be employed to work on roads. Some believe the government lacks the capital to invest in highway paving machines, and thus contracts small sections of road externally.</li>
</ul>
</ul>
<ul style="text-indent: 0px;">
<li>On the bus, I failed to recognize that there were no stop signs or street lights. It was impossible to ignore, however, zipping through busy streets on the back of a motorcycle taxi called a Boda Boda. Four others were carrying our bags, Betty, and Katya.</li>
<ul>
<li>Helmets would just be an inconvenience.</li>
</ul>
</ul>
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 1.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHqVBN9G_txU9SZQ5cyjmzOTMkYRyDqe1ffJp2yJ01-J0hfPYM7X2kWiH7PK2ldVTOyoEz4awM2hXcm9b8DOOaRxqS4lqc1o-qxQ8g13vTGPUBw1oXP2eP9tVkcsTbkMgSUbBkuW8fGVuP/s1600/IMG_3461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHqVBN9G_txU9SZQ5cyjmzOTMkYRyDqe1ffJp2yJ01-J0hfPYM7X2kWiH7PK2ldVTOyoEz4awM2hXcm9b8DOOaRxqS4lqc1o-qxQ8g13vTGPUBw1oXP2eP9tVkcsTbkMgSUbBkuW8fGVuP/s320/IMG_3461.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three people to a BodaBoda near Sipi Falls (2 weeks later)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<ul>
<li>Driving through the less populated areas of Soroti, it was clear that both running water and electricity are luxuries only the wealthiest can afford. Most get water from hand-pump wells in filling large
yellow plastic jugs that resemble diesel cans. (I’ve seen about 50 jugs in line
to be filled at one time)</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After living here for a little while, I began to notice some
less obvious differences.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<ol>
<li>People here feel like they must show their
wealth. Even if you live in a clay hut, you still wear perfectly clean clothes
in public.</li>
<ul>
<li>Additionally a person’s weight is considered a way
of showing economic standing, and if your guests don’t gain weight, you are
considered an indecent host.</li>
<li>Yes, they are attempting to fatten us up.</li>
</ul>
<li>In America when most people get off work, they
do something fun they enjoy. Embracing fun activity. Here, there is less of a
drive to do things for fun. If you do not need to use your muscles to work,
most people will sit, talk, and relax. Americans live for adventure, Ugandans
seem to think adventure is exhausting.</li>
<li>Women absolutely have a lower standing than men.
Parents wish their children will be boys. Women do all of the housework and
cooking (which takes so much more work than in America.) </li>
<ul>
<li>Most of the gardening and
harvesting is done by women. No Boda Boda drivers are women. I guess most Taxi
drivers are male in America too, but it’s not 100% like Uganda. </li>
<li>If a family only has enough money to
send one child to school, the girl will be learning how to take care of the
house instead.</li>
</ul>
<li>What happened to experimentation? Here, they
play one game of cards. That’s it. In America children make up card games all
the time, creativity and individuality is much less valued.</li>
<li>If you are white, you will absolutely be charged
more for things. Not always, but it happens. The market is usually a place for
negotiation.</li>
<li>Foooooood Oh my, what do they do to bananas in America
to make them taste like plastic? How do they make pineapple here taste like it
has twice the goodness? Why does that fruit named Jack look big enough to eat
me?</li>
</ol>
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghY_hIITFPIm0z-pDDqoEC6Sb33OCNJGL7FFkVRHQUsPh3c87PTGNL08S7SvsgpmAjeV57BE2xF7aRIGWZktKH1ja5g-o7MR6TjvGcY9X8BFhogSFmYc7_1mUws5ZsjtUyacQl-hX4gLip/s1600/IMG_3335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghY_hIITFPIm0z-pDDqoEC6Sb33OCNJGL7FFkVRHQUsPh3c87PTGNL08S7SvsgpmAjeV57BE2xF7aRIGWZktKH1ja5g-o7MR6TjvGcY9X8BFhogSFmYc7_1mUws5ZsjtUyacQl-hX4gLip/s320/IMG_3335.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
7. People slaughter animals. Yes you can argue that
animals get slaughtered in America too, but no one thinks about it, they just
get meat in nicely packaged morsels from the supermarket. Here when you get
meat, the vendor hacks it from a piece of animal carcass hanging from the
ceiling in front of you.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
8. The sky at night is awesome! At least this time
of year there’s been lightning in the surrounding clouds every night. Usually
in the distance, but sometimes closer.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that’s all from Soroti, Uganda this time. I’m sure there
will be much more to learn in the coming weeks.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuhcw1e1ASoISPHXVu9_p7bHSTKKVytqMn4TZb1_JZ2czQxpFCM8tyq8MaOOaGSsye-5bvN7jaLuyr0V77qvo_AhXDFG6xCpNQWtRLGSUxqx1fTwvBBIqaEZuWEi7HaYN9Hdqsp9TsqwUA/s1600/IMG_3172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuhcw1e1ASoISPHXVu9_p7bHSTKKVytqMn4TZb1_JZ2czQxpFCM8tyq8MaOOaGSsye-5bvN7jaLuyr0V77qvo_AhXDFG6xCpNQWtRLGSUxqx1fTwvBBIqaEZuWEi7HaYN9Hdqsp9TsqwUA/s320/IMG_3172.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset by our appartment</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14924745251898599646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-50951655607451890412017-06-29T13:14:00.000-07:002017-07-07T12:24:33.638-07:00Uganda Style<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Imagine a street full of
boda boda (motorcycle taxis) rushing by, letting each pedestrian know that it
is their responsibility to not get run over, with men yelling from the shared
taxi’s “Jinja! M’bale! Soroti!”. As Betty Ikanaly -- my boss and the person
that the next few weeks of my life depended on -- navigated effortlessly
through the swarm of people, I followed closely behind until we made it to the
bus that would take us to Soroti, an Eastern district of Uganda. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> As soon as we climbed on board, the bus started. To be
completely honest, it was more like we climbed on board as the bus was moving. We
took our seats and I waved farewell to Kampala. The scenery changed from rows
of two story buildings to run down cement and sheet metal houses and then to
farm lands with scattered villages. As the bus made its first of many stops in
a village, women and men flooded the bus with goods, such as roasted maize,
water, soda, and grilled goat. Betty, a wonderful host, treated us to roasted
cassava, groundnuts, and chapati. Within the first hour of the bus ride, I knew
that food here would definitely not be lacking in flavor, or in quantity.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> When we reached Soroti, I quickly noticed the starking
contrast from the capital city. People lounged outside of the shops
and strolled through the town. Most took shelter from the heat underneath
buildings. We boarded some much less hectic boda boda, and drove out of the
town to our new apartment. Children ran out as we drove by, screaming with
glee, “Mzungu hi!” (Mzungu means white foreigner). After a short ten minute
drive, we reached the apartment. Betty made sure that everything would be ready
for us when we got there; we have running water, electricity (most of the time),
and even a fridge! </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5OvRLcTXckqukFVHVYuyJhQWTD9gBJqCKf1Hl9nziZ_4rPKOlLbpgPvKaEsYEZqlid-WS912VUE7yL63uAXOPuEj0eaVpM5mAH1Gotp2UblgcuRPN0-cMU_OA5YEmE2gnoNPSIj8VPTfx/s1600/IMG_3219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5OvRLcTXckqukFVHVYuyJhQWTD9gBJqCKf1Hl9nziZ_4rPKOlLbpgPvKaEsYEZqlid-WS912VUE7yL63uAXOPuEj0eaVpM5mAH1Gotp2UblgcuRPN0-cMU_OA5YEmE2gnoNPSIj8VPTfx/s320/IMG_3219.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our apartment in Uganda (the second door from the left)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /> Three weeks later, I have settled into my new home for
the next couple of weeks. Colvin and I have been working on improving the
carbonization process at Betty’s company, Appropriate Energy Saving
Technologies (AEST). I have definitely learned a lot during this project. For
example, one of the largest differences between the US and Uganda is that here,
things move slowly. A task that might take an hour in the States, can take up
to a day here. Part of the reason is that some processes simply take time, such
as waiting for the charcoal to dry in the sun, or warming biomass to make
charcoal. Other reasons include a lack of resources and the blasting heat,
which definitely takes a toll on productivity. When visiting a local high
school – one of the best in Uganda – I chuckled as I read the school’s motto,
or what Colvin and I consider to be Uganda’s motto: if you rush, you crash.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDqNNxY7wk-9BUe7siyarKp6T0MQdheWgkIwkhvpLxuFG9hLsxJ6az7g58O4XnXNl7JQU60zlCLVkROAxe9bzqHt8d_MCxChSnKAKcZrwhyUAIaKexhiikkLbSUAByFo76L68NW6GM016/s1600/IMG_3269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDqNNxY7wk-9BUe7siyarKp6T0MQdheWgkIwkhvpLxuFG9hLsxJ6az7g58O4XnXNl7JQU60zlCLVkROAxe9bzqHt8d_MCxChSnKAKcZrwhyUAIaKexhiikkLbSUAByFo76L68NW6GM016/s320/IMG_3269.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Betty's cook stove factory</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Other things to note
when coming to Uganda:</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Most women and girls
wear skirts and dresses</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Look first right then
left when crossing!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Your host wants you to
gain weight before you go back home, as will be noticeably in the quantity and
quality of food</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Throwing food waste on
the ground is completely acceptable</span></li>
<li>It is quite toasty (currently sporting a nice sun burn)</li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Cooking takes much
longer, since you need to heat up your charcoal cook stove before your food!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">You will do the same
thing as a local for a day and end up covered in dirt, whereas they will still
be wearing a pristine ironed white shirt</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">You won’t even know
where to begin when doing your laundry (how the heck to I get mango juice out
of a white t-shirt?)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Workers will stick weld
on the side of the road wearing only sunglasses</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Children will find you
fascinating and a little terrifying- most screaming the little English they
know, and some even daring enough to touch you or shake your hand</span> </li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnv2qXHbdncRxh2tThb1_xgH-sN58meXL4jniVwYiWbFQbTeP7HtvqGYg6WoWUumHcxlNT-oorBuUcbKIVg23DWGjF8zAdwTlIoA5VIgLZZqJ2bGF5GDLihZJ2gvrhVNCmNorBcwiS3gKA/s1600/IMG_3189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnv2qXHbdncRxh2tThb1_xgH-sN58meXL4jniVwYiWbFQbTeP7HtvqGYg6WoWUumHcxlNT-oorBuUcbKIVg23DWGjF8zAdwTlIoA5VIgLZZqJ2bGF5GDLihZJ2gvrhVNCmNorBcwiS3gKA/s320/IMG_3189.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stick welding the cook stove grates</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> But in the end, people are the same everywhere.
We bond over the love of Justin Bieber’s hot new single, complain about the
heavy lifting, and tease everyone working incessantly. After a day of work, we
might kick around a soccer ball or throw a Frisbee (that we brought from the
States). I’m definitely excited to learn more from the people here and
from Uganda!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvUAxVw2QbOWj0QXmLI0mYoAToJ6osGgNOzcC8r29LkQg-iCCXYgrCCVDCuakGffRl5WquUkgP_X43Nl8Fk5KhyphenhyphenJ9QgEzLNbq2871rctVTuwICIAoRYlUAeVDQPCFv2vswQaz9Wjsjgrff/s1600/IMG_3456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvUAxVw2QbOWj0QXmLI0mYoAToJ6osGgNOzcC8r29LkQg-iCCXYgrCCVDCuakGffRl5WquUkgP_X43Nl8Fk5KhyphenhyphenJ9QgEzLNbq2871rctVTuwICIAoRYlUAeVDQPCFv2vswQaz9Wjsjgrff/s320/IMG_3456.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sipi Falls: One of the many beautiful landscapes of Uganda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04186212185164588475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-64099476193540978142017-06-25T17:09:00.001-07:002017-06-25T17:09:14.956-07:00Goodbye Bogota<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8LvkFj12v08s1MSGxtr_xdxFTuoVuh2akX82dkD45LD6TZtyyOwx2NtP8laVtuIT665zpysBzK9UXW-BnDIlbu_HNrGS9hg2Zo89GVeWMvsGXNE_FJ5A7DfpdRKFMqn1xwGwa1lI776FC/s1600/IMG_20170607_175307968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8LvkFj12v08s1MSGxtr_xdxFTuoVuh2akX82dkD45LD6TZtyyOwx2NtP8laVtuIT665zpysBzK9UXW-BnDIlbu_HNrGS9hg2Zo89GVeWMvsGXNE_FJ5A7DfpdRKFMqn1xwGwa1lI776FC/s320/IMG_20170607_175307968.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A student painting a mural at the National University of Colombia.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Tomorrow, I leave the big city for a town called Fusagasug<span style="background-color: white;">á</span> (known locally as Fusa) to start preparing for IDDS Climate Adaptation with the other organizers. I wish I could say that I'm equally sad to be leaving Bogot<span style="background-color: white;">á</span> and happy to be going to Fusa, but I'm much more excited than sad. Though I've had a good time in Bogot<span style="background-color: white;">á</span>, I'll likely never be a fan of big cities or wearing wool socks in June. Fusa is much lower in elevation and therefore a bit warmer than Bogot<span style="background-color: white;">á</span>, and it's nestled in a valley in the beautiful coffee-producing regions south of here. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSq86ZoNfWbVWGD2vj5OmUmdZdWvh7LQEbS0ndlSqHaeCSJ56pb87fIHjlGs3KUca78-jbMfLFkFli_e2kNGoLOTQ9tEGN_xpGAlMPlHalkomQp1iZMVkSD9Vhyphenhyphen8xjFvsbxaqQbqLtJmlt/s1600/IMG_20170614_165524303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSq86ZoNfWbVWGD2vj5OmUmdZdWvh7LQEbS0ndlSqHaeCSJ56pb87fIHjlGs3KUca78-jbMfLFkFli_e2kNGoLOTQ9tEGN_xpGAlMPlHalkomQp1iZMVkSD9Vhyphenhyphen8xjFvsbxaqQbqLtJmlt/s320/IMG_20170614_165524303.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The place I've been going to work for the past 5.5 weeks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">In the past few days, we've packed the entire workshop/office into boxes, and tomorrow we'll put it all into a truck to drive down. I'm currently in the process of packing up my things here at home. Fortunately, many of my clothes stayed in my suitcase for the whole time I was here, since my travels this summer will bring me to the warm temperatures of Mexico City, Boise, Seattle, and Boston, as well as cool, rainy Bogot<span style="background-color: white;">á</span>. Fusa won't be too drastic of a change, but an increase of 5 degrees Celsius is enough to really alter the way a climate feels. While I'm not very excited to reacquaint myself with mosquitoes, moving to weather that feels like summer will be a welcome change. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The prospect of experiencing the summit itself is also very exciting. I'm expecting to learn a lot about both design in low resource contexts and the actual execution of an event like this. Though I'm not a participant, I'll still get to meet everyone and see the whole process while helping to make it happen. Sixty participants make this is the largest IDDS ever, so there will be no shortage of new perspectives, and I'll be spending my days with people from many different places and walks of life. I'm also looking forward to having three solid meals a day. I know how to cook, but often fail to convince myself that the effort is worth it when I'm only cooking for myself. This is definitely not related to being in Bogot<span style="background-color: white;">á</span>; I struggled to keep my weight up last summer when I was doing research at Olin as well. I guess eating is so connected to socializing during the school year that I just don't get as hungry when I don't have anyone to eat with. I haven't had many opportunities to exercise, either, since long work hours and 6pm sunsets make running a little unfeasible. As a result, I'm not nearly as fit as I used to be, but there's a track at the place where we'll be living, so I'm hoping to wake up early and try to remember some track workouts from high school. Don't worry, parents, I'm not wasting away, Bogot<span style="background-color: white;">á</span> has just left me not quite as strong and healthy as I prefer to be.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm sure I'll find myself missing things about Bogot<span style="background-color: white;">á</span> throughout the next few weeks, but right now I'm just excited to go to Fusa. We'll see how it lives up to my expectations! I'm sure I'll have much more interesting things to write about as well once the IDDS is in full swing.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09116796530477482376noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-3780604897431434302017-05-30T09:03:00.003-07:002017-05-30T09:03:53.764-07:00Surprises from the First Two Weeks<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn4tY5XvJf2G42Ti0DVP7UNWtTRScaGWFWRX8-q-34gCG45Yo7vw8Hu26lV9tk3fG0JeoPBfRA5B_6KeDOlu1vytdRUILUmUXH2wO9gliiOLf9h93BbW0R-KnQk8KaPk2W6uAQ5ufgjWnK/s1600/IMG_20170516_151227726_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn4tY5XvJf2G42Ti0DVP7UNWtTRScaGWFWRX8-q-34gCG45Yo7vw8Hu26lV9tk3fG0JeoPBfRA5B_6KeDOlu1vytdRUILUmUXH2wO9gliiOLf9h93BbW0R-KnQk8KaPk2W6uAQ5ufgjWnK/s320/IMG_20170516_151227726_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view out my bedroom window; taken May 16.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Today officially marks two weeks since I arrived in Colombia! I'm happy, healthy, and excited for the rest of my time here. Two weeks in, I feel adjusted to most of the everyday things. I'm comfortable with the language, altitude, and traffic patterns of this city. I've tried and enjoyed many new foods, and I never mess up the order and placement of the five keys I need to get into my apartment anymore. I barely notice that there aren't any bugs up here at 2,600m. However, a few things have been more deeply surprising, and I wanted to share them in this post.<br />
<br />
1. I love working with my hands. I come in at 9am and stay late every day, and I'm not even getting paid. I guess the amount of fun I had in PoE should have been a clue, but I still didn't expect to be having this much fun at work. Most of what I'm doing right now involves learning to build and documenting the projects that will serve as introductions to the use of tools for participants during the first few days of the IDDS. They are small projects using cheap materials, but they're really practical and fun to make. I plan to redesign the solar fruit dryer for use in my dorm room in the fall.<br />
<br />
2. The mindset of the people I work with here at C-INNOVA is different than anything I've ever encountered. They are all deeply committed to creating positive change in their country, and they deal with the complications and hypocrisies that they encounter in the most direct way possible. I've always disliked patriotism, not only because I'm a child of two countries, but because of the ways it's usually expressed in the US and Europe. In the US, people tend to express their love for their country through superlatives that ignore its deep inequalities and problems. In Europe, patriotism often means shunning outside influence and intercultural understanding. For my co-workers, loving Colombia means acknowledging and taking responsibility for its problems. It means serving Colombia's people and taking steps to improve their lives. I'm sure there are people with this mindset in every country, but it isn't something I've been lucky enough to encounter before. I'm excited to experiment with this version of patriotism and to find more people who embrace it.<br />
<br />
3. Truly being a foreigner for the first time in my life is more strange and beautiful than I ever could have imagined. When everything is new, the wonder of childhood comes back and the smallest things seem magical. You can go from one climate to another here in a matter of minutes, just by driving down the mountain. I've finally started wearing sunscreen every day, because Bogota's proximity to the equator and altitude mean that I can get sunburned on my walk out to lunch. The sounds of small explosions we heard during a weekend in the countryside were nothing to worry about, just a popular pastime that's a bit like corn hole but with gunpowder. The dogs on farms that don't seem to belong to anyone are friendly and have all of their shots. The other day, I saw a billboard advertising NO-AD sunscreen. I think I finally understand my parents' tendency to giggle at small everyday things, when they're outside of the countries where they grew up. There are some things that just never stop seeming odd or wonderful when you're in an unfamiliar context.<br />
<br />
Everyone always says that the first two weeks in a new place are the hardest, and there have definitely been difficult moments, but I've really enjoyed my time here so far. Here's to the next seven weeks!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09116796530477482376noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-51973330861000215872017-02-27T06:01:00.003-08:002017-02-27T06:01:51.990-08:00Outsider in Zambia<div class="p1">
When I decided to take the IDIN grant to travel and work abroad, I was not at all sure about what to expect from the experience. I asked my placement coordinator where my skills might be best utilized and most needed, and was immediately pointed to Kafue Innovation Center in Kafue, Zambia among others. I spoke to John, one member of 3 at KIC, soon after, and his excitement and interest in having me was overwhelming. I began looking at flights that same day.</div>
<div class="p1">
About 2 weeks after beginning to work in Kafue, I spoke to John regarding how he thought things were going and felt about the work I was doing. I felt that I had been doing a good job of getting through what was asked of me and learning everything I possibly could about KIC, the projects, and future possibilities. He agreed, but he also wanted to encourage me to take more of a leadership role and share more of my opinions on everything I was learning about the center. Essentially, he wanted me to get tough with them. I was really glad to have that feedback, but also a bit uncomfortable. Thanks to my previous coursework in international development, the fact that actions and even simple suggestions may often have unintended consequences in this field was not lost on me. I was hesitant to cross the line between consciously doing no harm and making unique contributions even though that was why I had come. Moreover, without classmates, expert instructors, and a degree of separation that previously made real world problems seem more inviting than urgent, I felt extremely alone. </div>
<div class="p1">
Going from the classroom where stakeholder feedback and interactions are much fewer to basically unlimited access was quite overwhelming. My notebooks were inundated with new ideas and insights, but I was hesitant to pursue or even propose them without feeling more secure in my knowledge and understanding of the assumptions I was making and their ramifications. After talking to John, however, I realized misusing the best resource I had access to: the people I worked with at the innovation center every day. </div>
<style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545}
</style>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LEoMNNJKGodf-3-_K1OtWz5JZ1wa1-N5zC3sVmhOxgsvgyW7F2q9AvHjRYsEITqvc8mO14q15WDX5_euslGxRqh2F4lUp65TLfXomL3d0d7ipFhBP456CCmoR-M5xTDslpG82jqP-1Q/s1600/static1.squarespace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LEoMNNJKGodf-3-_K1OtWz5JZ1wa1-N5zC3sVmhOxgsvgyW7F2q9AvHjRYsEITqvc8mO14q15WDX5_euslGxRqh2F4lUp65TLfXomL3d0d7ipFhBP456CCmoR-M5xTDslpG82jqP-1Q/s320/static1.squarespace.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="p1">
I came to Zambia acutely aware of my outsider-ness and actively avoided falling into any undesirable power dynamic. My friends at KIC helped me understand that they understood this concern and could handle it. They weren’t looking for an outsider to open up a whole new world of insights for them, but a contributor to bring useful feedback to the table for consideration. I didn’t stop assessing my assumptions, but I realized that picking them apart to the level I had been really impeded my progress. I think this is where my experiences in the classroom and working in Zambia completely diverged. I had become so used to attempting not to lead stakeholders to any particular conclusions about what I was presenting to them, that I forgot to even let my partners in. I wasn’t used to having so much access to them, and it took time for me to take advantage of what they had to offer.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17575334729685142907noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-46590309713551941342016-08-02T04:40:00.003-07:002016-08-02T04:40:39.687-07:00I Guess I'm a Maverick Now?I spent the week of July 18 shirking my work. Why? Because Agastya was hosting an international teachers' summit, and I was asked to be a participant!<br />
<br />
The event: <a href="http://www.agastyamtgs.org/" target="_blank">Maverick Teachers Global Summit</a>. The people: 30 or so incredible teachers from around the world, and several educational "thought leaders," with a special emphasis on inviting Indian educators. The goal: to develop curricula and teaching tools to help educate about and solve specially selected global challenges, inspired by the UN's <a href="http://www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment/sustainable-development-goals/" target="_blank">Sustainable Development Goals</a>.<br />
<br />
7 teams of educators working for one week on specially chosen problems, trying to build empathy with global students, designing educational materials and prototyping/piloting them with children at Agastya's campus. In other words?<br />
<br />
The Oliner's Natural Environment. (Or, at the very least, mine!)<br />
<br />
I was lucky enough to be on the Gender Equality team. We were the largest team by far (10 people!), but we also had one of the largest problems that the summit had selected: <b>how can we design a curriculum that promotes gender equality throughout society?</b> I was happy to be on such a stellar global team: we had three people from the U.S. (including myself), two from Finland, one from Chile, and four from right here in India (four women and six men, if you're wondering). The great part about having such a big team was a diversity of opinion and thought, which was a strength that we tried to leverage to make a gender equality learning plan that would be relevant to children everywhere (that is, something that would be culturally adaptable).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw4Gj_-d4Do4IT3jezXBag8ElrpnNs4Egp36Jyw-Mqxa2H5Ual4fnE_GwnY-IxYtlCPFoxzbXKLh5mF10o-6OmuvV57KIEM-VBNv66IoWb1g3Xx36bsDmF_kr_wxsyQXBRzzp7M74qXpA/s1600/13775980_10154216527750853_4571678700640056053_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw4Gj_-d4Do4IT3jezXBag8ElrpnNs4Egp36Jyw-Mqxa2H5Ual4fnE_GwnY-IxYtlCPFoxzbXKLh5mF10o-6OmuvV57KIEM-VBNv66IoWb1g3Xx36bsDmF_kr_wxsyQXBRzzp7M74qXpA/s320/13775980_10154216527750853_4571678700640056053_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Go Gender, Go Gender, Go Gender, Equality!</b> (PC Prianka)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOp7mHtkA9oKQlDVci9qPFeMR5Pev4vuxH3kRiL92nXEIylRjAkwK-txVZkAwDCykpwfaYQgdtl1Nqgv_4gwWfMSvxVh49us_CFWBoauhs0VJg1Xt1u4dIqnHGOTEJdn54jzIyO3FsQo/s1600/13692537_10154216527705853_3234338942299584357_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOp7mHtkA9oKQlDVci9qPFeMR5Pev4vuxH3kRiL92nXEIylRjAkwK-txVZkAwDCykpwfaYQgdtl1Nqgv_4gwWfMSvxVh49us_CFWBoauhs0VJg1Xt1u4dIqnHGOTEJdn54jzIyO3FsQo/s320/13692537_10154216527705853_3234338942299584357_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our team, truly global (again, PC Prianka)!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Immediately, we were struck at the vast differences in experience of gender inequality. The defining characteristics of what it looks like in different countries is hugely variable, from the U.S, where the popular gender inequality discussions of the day are centered around <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lean_In" target="_blank"><i>Lean In</i></a>, <span id="goog_1595078079"></span><a href="http://www.usnews.com/news/articles/2015/10/21/women-still-underrepresented-in-stem-fields" target="_blank">STEM education</a> (<a href="https://www.whitehouse.gov/administration/eop/ostp/women" target="_blank">2nd link</a>), <span id="goog_1595078080"></span><a href="http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/hillary-clinton-poorly-white-male-voters/" target="_blank">Hillary Clinton</a>, and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/YesAllWomen" target="_blank">#yesallwomen</a>, to India, where sexual violence is (<b>Trigger Warning on this link</b>) <a href="http://www.ibtimes.com/rape-india-epidemic-sexual-violence-against-women-children-rape-laws-arent-enough-2157704" target="_blank">being described as an epidemic</a>, but women <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/guardian-professional/2015/jun/24/why-women-in-stem-may-be-better-off-working-in-india-and-latin-america" target="_blank">seem to be doing better in STEM careers</a> (happy link, click away).<br />
<br />
So where, then, do we begin? What is the unifying factor in these experiences? I found my own answer to this from a local thirteen-year-old boy I spoke with, who said he had <i>never spoken with anybody about gender inequality</i>. Once we had established that he did understand what gender inequality was, I asked him what he thought the source was. And he pretty quickly responded: <b>"The gents have all the power. The ladies have no power."</b> He also gave me a more-local reason: "The parents respect their sons more than they respect their daughters."<br />
<br />
Wow. So the kids <i>get it</i>. They <i>know</i> that they live in a world deeply affected by gender inequality, and <i>they know why</i>. So our team decided to create a lesson in which students can bring their own experiences and viewpoints to the table, speak critically about gender for what may well be the first time, and be introduced to the concept of gender-based violence.<br />
<br />
Most of the materials that we made will be posted online soon (hopefully!), so I won't go into details here, but I think we laid some groundwork for what will hopefully be a culturally adaptable curriculum, for all ages, that is as relevant to students in Europe as those in South Asia, and everywhere in-between. I believe that we took a major step toward this goal when I heard the students we worked with commit to change for the better. We had them write a small "promise to act" on a piece of paper, something that they could do to try to make the world a little more equal in regards to gender. I leave you with what one student wrote.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">We should treat all the children as our brothers and sisters.<br /> We should have a good attitude to one another.<br /> We should not do wrong things to one another.<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> We should never degrade another person."</span></span></span></blockquote>
The conference was fun, the team was great, the curriculum we designed was interesting. But I hope that the change we affect is <i>better</i>.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGvyQKTlcTqpld0DbvdX-Wdm-Hba3qzYJ0dMMd9dG6CWYIIvV4Dg3gATPeubhx2VHSH1ooAcPEM-Ujl0P2SQ8kKwJfaCou2s8nJnHSrE9uoKiAlNJ-ICdCxB2HI4qkyfxqVyVLO7VGjo/s1600/13765852_10154230800185853_6377192321316683155_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGvyQKTlcTqpld0DbvdX-Wdm-Hba3qzYJ0dMMd9dG6CWYIIvV4Dg3gATPeubhx2VHSH1ooAcPEM-Ujl0P2SQ8kKwJfaCou2s8nJnHSrE9uoKiAlNJ-ICdCxB2HI4qkyfxqVyVLO7VGjo/s320/13765852_10154230800185853_6377192321316683155_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The above quote as originally written, in Kannada. (seriously, the last one, PC Prianka!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
mitch.c.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17828681532816765870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-71941077699870699572016-08-02T02:53:00.001-07:002016-08-02T03:00:05.568-07:00Bio Discovery at Agastya (and my first few weeks in India)Hey y'all! I'm Mitch, and I'm an Electrical and Computer Engineering student at Olin. I'm spending the summer at the <a href="http://www.agastya.org/" target="_blank">Agastya International Foundation</a>, near Gudivanka, Andhra Pradesh, India. It's an educational NGO, and is really focused on hands-on and investigative-based learning. This post is mostly an introduction to myself and the work I'm doing, so it'll be a bit long I think.<br />
<br />
The campus itself is a huge (172 acres) ecology park in a rural area, where the buildings and curricula are integrated with nature. It's also quite modern, focused on teaching math, science, and engineering to local students to augment their normal education. The whole feeling of the place is one of dualisms, especially between the energy of the hundreds of kids that come every day and the calming natural environment that surrounds and permeates it. I heard one of my professors describe the campus as "pastoral;" that's an apt description, but it seems to leave out some indescribable quality of the air, the kids, the teachers, and the weather. I'd add to it, "invigorating."<br />
<br />
I work in the Bio Discovery program here. I say "in," but I really mean "with" or "for." You see, unlike many programs here, the Bio Discovery program has no buildings yet. It's a new program, and they hope to have their first building complete within the next year, ending with (I think) ten buildings to teach kids biology in an engaging, memorable, and high-quality way. The whole center is to have five components: Let's Investigate, The <span class="il">Sensorium</span>, Learning Gardens, Mechanics of Movement, and Genetics. I'm here as a prototyping intern, so my work is mostly centered around building physical models and interactive demonstrations in each of these components.<br />
<br />
So far, I've been engaged in 3 projects. The first of these is with another intern here, Katie, and has most utilized my electrical engineering skills. It's to make an interactive demonstration that shows how <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reflex_arc" target="_blank">somatic reflex arcs</a> work. The general idea of the demonstration is that an instructor will press a button on a model of an arm or leg, and lights will engage in sequence to represent neurons firing, up the limb, to the spinal cord, and back to the limb. Finally, the limb will jerk in some way, demonstrating that the muscle responded to the stimulus. I've been focused on what circuitry we need to make such a demonstration simple, effective, and durable.<br />
<br />
The second is a special goggles that children will wear to invert their vision. This is a part of the Sensorium, and the goggles themselves will be a fun way for students to better understand the relationships between our senses and our brains' processing of those senses (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neural_adaptation" target="_blank">relevant link</a>). The design of the goggles is really "just enough" to hold special prisms in front of the children's eyes, so I don't anticipate this particular project taking very much time.<br />
<br />
The third project is the big one that will take most of my summer: designing and building Mechanics of Motion models. The idea is that students will be able to physically interact with some sort of demonstration or exhibit (think science museum), and see how particular motions in the body occur. To begin, I'm working on a lever-pulling demonstration, where students will see the muscles and joints involved in pulling a lever (encompassing radial abduction of the wrist, flexion of the forearm, and extension of the arm), and in pushing that lever (the opposite motions: ulnar abduction, forearm extension, arm flexion). The general idea of the demonstration is that it will be mostly passive (i.e. not electrical), a mechanical system, and that it will show bones and muscles working together. I haven't quite worked out all the details, but it should be an exciting exhibit when I'm done! After this particular motion is finished, I plan to work on a few more motion demonstrations to varying degrees of completeness. I hope I can finish at least one or two before I leave!<br />
<br />
India itself has taken some getting used to, but I'm adapting quickly. I certainly echo much of what Aaron said in a previous post about the experience of being the only white person around (save some of my fellow interns). I'm enjoying the pace of life here at Agastya, and their unique outlook on education. I'm hoping to learn as much as I can before I return to Olin.<br />
<br />
Vidkolu,<br />
Mitch <br />
<br />mitch.c.http://www.blogger.com/profile/17828681532816765870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-85413276508430846792016-08-01T02:23:00.001-07:002016-08-01T02:25:21.736-07:00I Did Not Come to Africa to Help the Children<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">“I just really wanted to come to Africa help the children”, I hear the white girl across from me say. She pushes her straight blonde hair back over her left ear and lays her RayBan sunglasses on the plastic table. She sits in a blue plastic chair with “Pepsi” written on the back, under a tent that leans such that it looks as if it could topple at any moment. On the wall across her is a bare cement building with “Chakula House” in colorful paint on the wall and written again on the Pepsi-branded sign. On both sides of the long table sit Tanzanian men and women, eating wali, ugali and mshikaki. “Chips”, she says to the young woman with an apron who walks up next to her. “Chips, you understand?” she repeats. The woman nods her head.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>From my quick interaction I am already forming her backstory. She comes from California, just out of college. She has always wanted to go to Africa, doesn’t really matter where, since last year when her friend went. On the weekdays she goes to orphanages and hospitals where she plays with the kids and unsuccessfully tries to teach them english. On the weekends she goes on safari, lounges by the pool, and goes to all the clubs. Her Instagram is a mix between her with the little children with captions about how happy they are even though their situation is so tragic, and selfies with elephants. Her profile picture is her in the middle a group of African (she doesn’t specify the country) kids. She is <a href="https://www.instagram.com/barbiesavior/?hl=en" target="_blank">White Savior Barbie</a>. She is <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/jul/05/zambians-hit-back-at-white-saviour-gap-yah-memoir" target="_blank">everything I complain about</a> to my other mzungu friends.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvp6g2hDLt6YgMlneHOt4IUMFsznpvvGNAi5FL_TMKWFpC_FaCDwyKUiaTZ2gB-hbiGMifpiLM-7i0ym3I78HaCDzLg5FKcayUPMPzrsMKFLN_RtDNNNt81DmNTBcmDlpErpFXJo00JK0/s1600/DSC_0061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvp6g2hDLt6YgMlneHOt4IUMFsznpvvGNAi5FL_TMKWFpC_FaCDwyKUiaTZ2gB-hbiGMifpiLM-7i0ym3I78HaCDzLg5FKcayUPMPzrsMKFLN_RtDNNNt81DmNTBcmDlpErpFXJo00JK0/s400/DSC_0061.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View up the road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: 11px; white-space: pre;"> </span>But am I all that different? I am in Tanzania for two months, I go out on the weekends, post pictures of landscapes on Instagram, and speak a few words of broken Swahili. I like to think I came to Arusha to do something that mattered and get experience in international development, but I am also having a good time living in another country. There are no doubt things that separate me from her. I am not pretending I know what is best for Tanzania, I take the bus and ride my bike through the local entrance of the national park, I live without many of the luxuries of home, and my profile picture is not of me with a group of Tanzanian children. I want to believe that I am not a “white savior”, but there is a part of me is not sure and it makes my stomach hurt.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_rkEPSn-LV8XTDFC5UYwZum_whmJCPk4NjjP5-ERk4tQgkgCnHWrqlsUISq93Jx7pKkP4WkX35HRJFBaPk0vgNQKpIykRpnJqJZhhCoDn8tqBMvcVWme5g0xi-vsej_iNGcXcGBbM7yI/s1600/DSC_0534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_rkEPSn-LV8XTDFC5UYwZum_whmJCPk4NjjP5-ERk4tQgkgCnHWrqlsUISq93Jx7pKkP4WkX35HRJFBaPk0vgNQKpIykRpnJqJZhhCoDn8tqBMvcVWme5g0xi-vsej_iNGcXcGBbM7yI/s400/DSC_0534.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Manyaya National Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: 11px; white-space: pre;"> </span>One night, after a long talk about what were were really doing in Tanzania, my friend said to me, “The people who are thinking abut the things and questioning if they are really making a difference are usually the ones that are.” So hopefully, by recognizing that I have the privilege to be able to go here (and the privilege to leave whenever I want), that I am not a savior, and that I do not know what is best for Tanzania, I don't have to be like the girl sitting across from me. It is okay for me to go to Tanzania for a summer. It is okay for me to have an experience where I learn about international development, do my best to help, and even go on small trips on the weekends. But I did not just really want to come to Africa to help the children.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805617180540617552noreply@blogger.com0Arusha, Tanzania-3.3869254 36.6829927-3.5137314 36.5216312 -3.2601194 36.8443542tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-40894653409241803112016-07-26T13:11:00.000-07:002016-07-26T13:11:12.466-07:00A Crazy Day in Bogota: or Fear is Overrated.<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So, this week I nearly gave myself a heart attack, which as a healthy twenty-one year old filled with vim and vigor really shouldn’t be possible. So let me explain about how this strange occurrence almost came to fruition. On Friday morning I got into a taxi with one of my mentor/hosts/bosses (we really need to come up with titles at some point) in order to buy giant barrels for my aquaponic system. I knew that we were going to have to cross some of the worst neighborhoods in town in order to get to the region where all of materials and workshops were located. There have been a spate of robberies here where someone is using a smartphone in a taxi and has someone wrench open the door and grab their phone. So, being a cautious tourist, I was wearing my coat with my wallet and phone on the inside pockets. I was pretty safe, I thought. I have been becoming much more comfortable here having seen no violence or theft and the only indication that I not in a fully developed country being a high instance of homeless people which can be found in any American city as well as a great deal of trash that is not picked up.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJCWAxV8QKS0j80v6F7wMXbxW5GY8tgLHZ9GWAiPQFjCAA3VKmxa82Qfx7EQAhRZv6v-0OmoHcbB5Y9f_P0FYpbNmAP_B4acSEIsOuKH9nZiZU8APLb_2Osn4PWwVBpiXIm3-LhELzKk/s1600/ColombianBinLaden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJCWAxV8QKS0j80v6F7wMXbxW5GY8tgLHZ9GWAiPQFjCAA3VKmxa82Qfx7EQAhRZv6v-0OmoHcbB5Y9f_P0FYpbNmAP_B4acSEIsOuKH9nZiZU8APLb_2Osn4PWwVBpiXIm3-LhELzKk/s320/ColombianBinLaden.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colombian Bin Laden*</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We drove through the horrifically paved streets past regions I was starting to get to know and finally turned a corner at which point I could feel myself sink down into my seat slightly. There was a man in full cammo (not the uniform of the colombian military or police) up ahead carrying what looked like an AK47 or M5. With recent events in Nice and around the world, I instantly panicked thinking that maybe he was stopping cars looking for Americans. Once again, I cursed my blond hair and clothes that stand out as not being from around here. This whole time I was trying not to look like I was panicking. I’m supposed to be brave and not judge people based on their appearance, but this man looked like every person that media and culture had taught me to demonize and fear. I mean, he looked exactly like Osama Bin Laden which I could see because at this point he was knocking on our window. My eyes were certainly wide enough to take in his beard and turban and I pressed myself away from the window. My host, Alex, waved him off and we drove on. Alex leaned over and said, “Just by the way, his gun is made out of wood.” I think I breathed a sigh of relief audible in space. It turns out that that man is an Osama Bin Laden impersonator and people here pay money to have their pictures taken with him. Decide for yourself if you would have reacted seeing this man walking towards you on a street somewhere. I not completely proud of my reaction, but I'm glad I didn't say anything or do anything too embarrassing or judgmental. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3g9jY2AakdGvyMx1h5HzPn-BPb2qdIqn4rAP9C3jjI-pChB_ziHSFO5gLMn62EEhkNy_G5uB2q7gPZKaK9YDrCZ7TLC6ESYh9j6euNDFn7uq-NU11V2FAyiwaqklweP2jv2oGTdoc9I/s1600/Tejo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3g9jY2AakdGvyMx1h5HzPn-BPb2qdIqn4rAP9C3jjI-pChB_ziHSFO5gLMn62EEhkNy_G5uB2q7gPZKaK9YDrCZ7TLC6ESYh9j6euNDFn7uq-NU11V2FAyiwaqklweP2jv2oGTdoc9I/s320/Tejo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tejo board with pink gunpowder packets**</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All was well and good until I went out that night with a coworker and the Colombian women’s lacrosse team (my coworker plays on the team and invited me to join them). We were going to play Tejo, a traditional Colombian game something like corn-hole, along with the coaches they’d flown in from the U.S. I’m pretty sure I was brought in to help the Americans (the ones from the U.S. not the South Americans. How much hubris do we have saying that we’re American?) feel a little less isolated. We walked into this tiny bar and grabbed beers at which point I heard a gunshot from right behind me in the bar. I jumped along with all the other Americans and looked wildly round at a cheerfully laughing group of Colombians. With all the shootings in the U.S., I’ve started to build up a fear muscle whenever I’m in public. The good news is that a) I wasn’t shot in a bar in Colombia, and b) that tejo is played with small packets of gunpowder similar to pop-its. The game centers around throwing a heavy weight at a board covered in clay which has a metal target ring on it and four gunpowder filled packets placed on the ring. If you are lucky, you get your weight into the middle or manage to hit one of the gunpowder packets with a sound remarkably similar to a gunshot. After jumping the first couple of times, we managed to loudly proclaim tejo anytime someone actually managed to hit one of the packets which between that and the thirty rack of beer we were required to drink with our game stopped us jumping very quickly. It was one of the most pleasant nights of my life. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-ea81c960-2855-1f85-a59d-3d6e79c50c92"></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On a less terrifying note, the next day I helped out at an event for kids who needs prosthesis. The Men upstairs work on prosthesis for kids and needed someone to help with an activity for the parents and other parts of the family while the kids were learning how to use minecraft, cad, and figuring out self-narratives. It was one of those experiences where while it is in progress, you know you are doing something worth doing (something we all strive for, but don’t always find in day-to-day activities). </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">*Image credit Getty Images. Link to article about the Man <a href="http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/osama-bin-laden-lookalike-the-colombian-179559" target="_blank">here</a></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
**Image credit to <a href="https://www.google.com.co/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwis6rO_2ZHOAhWDGD4KHbN8AygQjhwIBQ&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.uncovercolombia.com%2Fen%2Fitem%2Ftejo-the-next-olympic-sport&psig=AFQjCNHzHgARm__NN7T4bK3NvypwwBrzYg&ust=1469642051261547" target="_blank">Uncover Colombia</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17979359058359401690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-7210596620734531262016-07-26T13:09:00.003-07:002016-07-26T13:10:16.898-07:00Three Weeks In<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Where do I stand after three weeks in Colombia. Well, this past Saturday I had my first workshop here. Among other things, I got to learn that most people don’t use tools as quickly as I do. I had a blast making a miniature lending library for a prototype and display purposes. We’re going to put it outside as soon as we can buy a means of attaching it to the wall. Things have a way of running away here if they’re not bolted down. Another intern showed up and we have decided that we have the solemn responsibility of placing C-innova on firmer footing than we found it. To this end, we’re recording lot’s of propaganda videos and are going to launch a GoFundMe. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc_UiPpkjS-oLOA99n9UTvU8RcYGSyZz8tqgU97ffkitMLl3U2wjFmM-mEyhX_knitAzn4jCpWzXvqPhdT50uaqtGD398BXg_MUFXk-91D2s40lWuo6Mb8V1idOOTYSyZeNfB8VrQVyNg/s1600/LittleLendingLibrary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc_UiPpkjS-oLOA99n9UTvU8RcYGSyZz8tqgU97ffkitMLl3U2wjFmM-mEyhX_knitAzn4jCpWzXvqPhdT50uaqtGD398BXg_MUFXk-91D2s40lWuo6Mb8V1idOOTYSyZeNfB8VrQVyNg/s640/LittleLendingLibrary.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Little Lending Library</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There are certainly a few interesting aspects to crowdfunding that I had never considered before. For instance, GoFundMe requires that you be an American citizen with an American bank account. I can only surmise this is for insurance purposes and to stop embargoed countries from getting money throw these sorts of sites. As thankfully both the other intern and I are American citizens with American bank accounts we can do this a crowdfunding, although this does raise a point about opportunity distribution. C-innova had actually considered doing crowdfunding before but found they couldn’t do it due to these considerations. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the things C-innova would really like to have is a station to learn about electrical engineering because right now they really only have the ability to take on design and mechanical engineering projects. My fellow intern and I also noticed a discrepancy in the number of diy videos that are filmed in Spanish versus the number that are in English. We’d like to leave some amount of equipment here that they can continue to use. Finally, C-innova would really like to be able to take its message out of Bogota. Right now the workshop is stuck in a room in Bogota and they’d like to be able to drive around to schools and towns that are not nearby. Towards these goals, we’re working on a hilarious video for our crowdfund campaign. Let’s just say, I have an incredible Hillary Clinton impersonation. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In any event, life here is beginning to take on a familiar form. My favorite place to grab lunch now knows my order by heart and I have finally gotten the hang of the cheek to cheek kissy thing (this is after I made a rather hilarious mistake by missing and accidentally kissing this lady’s shoulder,...she was very confused). I find now also that my thoughts seem to be in a variety of Spanish and English which is fun, but not totally coherent. It works because most of the people around me speak both so our conversations tend to go in and out of both languages. I was even complimented on my accent this week. Apparently, it now takes me messing up a particularly simple verb for people to realize that spanish isn’t my first language, which I do on a regular basis (I wouldn’t want to be too predictable…).</span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-8017b74d-28c4-24fb-81fc-75745a289df3"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The last thing I’d like to say here is that I’ve learned a new definition of the word waste. While using tons of packaging doesn’t draw attention, if you leave a single morsel of edible food on your plate you will get a talking to, either by people with you wondering what’s wrong with you, or the waiter wanting to know what was wrong with the food. I also haven’t been warm since I got here. I work in two shirts or a shirt and coat because they don’t seem to heat buildings. I suppose since there are no seasons here they just figure that people can manage on particularly cold days. I now understand completely about why people here drink so much hot chocolate and coffee besides the fact that it’s very cheap. They also don’t seem to believe in heating water past lukewarm, which at first was very frustrating and then I realized just how much energy they’re saving. According to Energy.gov water heating accounts for 18% of a homes energy usage in the U.S. leaving me to wonder how much energy we’d save if everyone was okay with lukewarm water, not that I think we’ll ever convice people to do that. Hasta Luego, muchachos. </span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17979359058359401690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-18625091920942867872016-07-21T05:12:00.000-07:002016-08-01T02:23:45.385-07:00So, What Am I Doing?<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">I want to take a quick break from travel writing to quickly explain what I am doing in Tanzania. As part of a placement through the Olin IDIN fund, I am working at Twende in Arusha, Tanzania for two months this summer. Twende is a social innovation center that works to empower local innovators to solve challenges they see in their communities. We work to accomplish this through hands-on workshops and projects. We also provide support for businesses and developing social ventures.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylkoEUI2l_TPOAP0rQGmwDJjBmmji6BEetfh0a1V_56yftIp6kxjtWn1-Y6ulvJl0No60eWBYL5C3yJh-PMWpYY9g2Cy6jvayWWrRofkE_c40Ck3NK1FLqzjZuMCUz1DNjFPa-3HaxIs/s1600/IMG_4270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylkoEUI2l_TPOAP0rQGmwDJjBmmji6BEetfh0a1V_56yftIp6kxjtWn1-Y6ulvJl0No60eWBYL5C3yJh-PMWpYY9g2Cy6jvayWWrRofkE_c40Ck3NK1FLqzjZuMCUz1DNjFPa-3HaxIs/s400/IMG_4270.JPG" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The workshop.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; min-height: 13px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></div>
<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: 11px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-kerning: none;">But enough about that, back to me. I am working primarily in the (2 person) design team. As the director of creativity (self-appointed title), I work to provide design support for both the Twende center itself, and for the innovators that are working on projects or businesses. I have recently been working on designing a book to highlight Twende’s CCB (Creative Capacity Building) workshop, as well as graphic design for a business operating out of Twende. Throughout it all, I have been documenting the various work that goes on at Twende through photo and video. On the more human-centered design side, I have been working on improving the workshop space, and planing for Nane Nane (a large festival that happens in the beginning of August).</span><br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjOVC_OPl8PYzDYixe9yTn9nSK8KrcQ6-SqYg2EqmHZ7SGpTWiKLt2Vb2kuQhK2pOp2s7942xEkVHSvIx-hRNE9icJBzbFPsfDhsim8f80REcn7NP1tKSYDWVoZ-g6hVEk_Fv0Bv6mOI/s1600/DSC_0039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjOVC_OPl8PYzDYixe9yTn9nSK8KrcQ6-SqYg2EqmHZ7SGpTWiKLt2Vb2kuQhK2pOp2s7942xEkVHSvIx-hRNE9icJBzbFPsfDhsim8f80REcn7NP1tKSYDWVoZ-g6hVEk_Fv0Bv6mOI/s400/DSC_0039.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A view inside.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">It is safe to say that this summer experience has been unlike most. When deciding whether to take an opportunity more in my comfort zone or to come here, I took a leap of faith. It has paid off so much more than I could have hoped for. Not only am I working somewhere where I can have a real, meaningful impact on the lives of others, but I have also grown so much as a person and gotten to know myself much better. I would recommend everyone that can take this kind of opportunity whenever possible. It has been a wonderful learning experience so far, and it’s hard to believe I am more than half way done with my internship here already. There is so much more that I want to accomplish!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805617180540617552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-63441197947408795692016-07-15T13:18:00.000-07:002016-07-15T13:20:54.175-07:00Tanzanian Style<div style="line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">Its noon and I am biking in the middle of the African desert with Han and Scotty and they both have flats. We are at least five miles from our camping site where, after some brief consideration this morning before we left, we have decided to leave the bike pump in the car. The dirt road is a fiery orange, and weaves through fields of dying sunflowers and tall yellow grass. Mt. Kilimanjaro soars up ahead of us, disappearing into the clouds.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: 11px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaUPVzBuQUeJ_P2aBU4T6Tb9Gjg4yYdAaL_VOqu49AVCQT32hBaS6n1JgNryxNt5Zuq71y4nfUpS5RCdQc1bDwvo5ToYrHyMybw6gv0eFjjEjor8MgYB6ctOlfVHnBSZkE3s4QSSbVMM/s1600/IMG_4324.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaUPVzBuQUeJ_P2aBU4T6Tb9Gjg4yYdAaL_VOqu49AVCQT32hBaS6n1JgNryxNt5Zuq71y4nfUpS5RCdQc1bDwvo5ToYrHyMybw6gv0eFjjEjor8MgYB6ctOlfVHnBSZkE3s4QSSbVMM/s400/IMG_4324.JPG" width="500" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Exploring the roads by bike.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">Just moments ago, as I was leading us down a narrow path that swerved in and out of a dried-up river bed, I hit the brakes hard to maneuver around a fallen branch. I heard a muffled cracking noise behind be, followed by “Shit!”. I knew what this meant immediately. At the campsite this morning as we put together our bikes, Han was riding around when one of his handlebars suddenly snapped off. In addition to the engine failure and the missing quick-release bolt, this only added to our transportation trouble, not to mention the flat tire we would receive driving out the next day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: 11px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX2FWEi_iwIbdDXwyZV7lvQ5sMdmpdvMTzL794PTm7MViPUm9dmVWVTpn5ssslQNXLAI-piDCJkOHiauSBN3i6F3pZRs7JkQhGSo6Ob5eq_SSEa07kozhySmXERhD15yIifXcD9T8pBzo/s1600/IMG_4318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX2FWEi_iwIbdDXwyZV7lvQ5sMdmpdvMTzL794PTm7MViPUm9dmVWVTpn5ssslQNXLAI-piDCJkOHiauSBN3i6F3pZRs7JkQhGSo6Ob5eq_SSEa07kozhySmXERhD15yIifXcD9T8pBzo/s400/IMG_4318.JPG" width="500" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Not a bad camping spot.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: 11px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: 11px; white-space: pre;"> </span>We went in search of a fix, but in the remote campsite a wooden dowel was the best we could find. We cut up the dowel into foot-long pieces and made a make-shift splint for the handlebar, held together by tightly-wrapped bicycle tubes. Han goes for a test ride, and we decide that our fix will do. As we are leaving on the rocky, dusty road, we stop by Mwambo. He points at the bike, “Hey, I like the fix. Tanzanian style.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One month in, and one month to go, I have finally embraced my new way of living. Cold showers, dust on pretty much everything, running to charge all of the electronics when the power goes back on. I sit in a cold plastic chair instinctively switching back and forth between windows on my computer waiting five minutes for a google search result to load. I also drink warm chai when the weather turns a little chilly, and wave back to all the children playing soccer as I go by them on my run.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We walk our disabled bikes down the road a bit further happen upon a small shop. With limited Swahili and lots of hand gestures, we get the tubes fixed. We strap our helmets back on and continue down the path. Right around the corner, we find ourselves biking through a rock quarry. The white granite provides a stark contrast against the red dirt. “Where are we?” we ask the man taking a break from chipping at the rock. “You’re in Kenya!” he replies. “We’re in Kenya!” I exclaim and we all give high-fives.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjIEZDLckSYQgp1o11kak0yLPchzquyDY9V1kRTDJYYCm1OZRVYVeY8-rCTvJZS9CxXxzlDhc5WFCNjXfc_ijjxYNIPb8cqfchyphenhyphenyqTg9hJ0kUxza2wtOZxz1NTqK709FXusRIN3SM4P2U/s1600/IMG_4314.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjIEZDLckSYQgp1o11kak0yLPchzquyDY9V1kRTDJYYCm1OZRVYVeY8-rCTvJZS9CxXxzlDhc5WFCNjXfc_ijjxYNIPb8cqfchyphenhyphenyqTg9hJ0kUxza2wtOZxz1NTqK709FXusRIN3SM4P2U/s400/IMG_4314.PNG" width="500" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Made it to Kenya!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">As the sun illuminates us from behind, we head back towards camp. Through small villages, fields of sunflowers, and tall waving grass we bike with our eyes trained on Kili. The next day we wake up, kayak across the deep, clear lake to Kenya on the other side, and hike with the baboons. When the weekend comes to an end, I am back at Twende, supporting local Tanzanians that are making a real difference in their communities. I could get used to Tanzanian style.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805617180540617552noreply@blogger.com0Arusha, Tanzania-3.3869254 36.6829927-3.5137314 36.5216312 -3.2601194 36.8443542tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-16653153034992402852016-07-13T10:24:00.000-07:002016-07-13T11:42:10.110-07:00Great City of the South: Understanding the Urbanism in São Paulo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<i>[This was originally a continuation of "Ola Sao Paulo!", divided into two posts for readability.]</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<i><br /></i>
In our conversations prior to my arrival in Brazil, Anielle Guedes, Urban3D's founder and CEO, described São Paulo as one of the "great cities of the South." These cities -- places like Lagos, Jakarta, New Delhi, Shanghai, and other rising cities across the "Developing World" -- have seen massive population expansions as people move from the countryside seeking economic and social advancement. While these locations have vastly different cultures and political traditions, all face similar challenges in providing services -- from modern transportation and finance to basics like public health and housing -- for their populaces. They also see, to varying degrees, large levels of inequality.<br />
<br />
These realities are readily apparent on the streets here. São Paulo is South America's largest city, and has the greatest concentration of industry on the continent. While it was a relatively quiet center of cattle and coffee production at the turn of the 20th century, São Paulo has gone through several periods of great economic growth. Today, the State of Sao Paulo, home to 20% of Brazil's people, generates over 40% of the nation's GDP. Young, well-traveled Paulistanos that I've talked to often compare their city to Nova York: both cities share a strong business culture, a well-utilized metro system, and a large fleet of helicopters (NYC is #1, São Paulo is #2). And the cities are comparatively sized, with the São Paulo metro area's 21 million people in 7,000 sq. km corresponding closely to New York City's 23 million, though New York's metro is spread out over 34,000 sq. km. However, the urban form starts to diverge there. Population density and building types in New York City form a Gaussian curve centered on Manhattan (60-story offices and apartment buildings downtown give way to 6-story apartment blocks in the boroughs and 2-story houses in the suburbs), and the entire city is characterized by an effective grid system that anticipated future expansions. Different story for São Paulo.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKtpmTqwLxCKys5nK8T_AQnV1sd74ji2AImuUWoR7SfAXtykxgmQVHiG_jxvbFdCme6idHIsWn2uDo9W6UrS0gVLANL5HGN-ev4zITSvTQE0UERtFb-F3YX05VNSIzlcDjjOZFS5mMG2c/s1600/carte_sao_paulo_informations_touristiques_dessin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKtpmTqwLxCKys5nK8T_AQnV1sd74ji2AImuUWoR7SfAXtykxgmQVHiG_jxvbFdCme6idHIsWn2uDo9W6UrS0gVLANL5HGN-ev4zITSvTQE0UERtFb-F3YX05VNSIzlcDjjOZFS5mMG2c/s640/carte_sao_paulo_informations_touristiques_dessin.jpg" width="566" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">São Paulo: <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Makes Boston look reasonable. </span><br />
<i>Mappi.net. Original: http://www.mappi.net/sao_paulo.php</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
By contrast, the city planning here is more frenzied and less, uh, planned: from its origins as a hilltop Jesuit monastery in colonial times, the city today is a mix of old village centers, streetcar-oriented grids, grand avenues, office parks, highways, and improvised settlements which later had their streets paved and dignified. Its dense residential neighborhoods of two-story houses, host to working-class immigrants and well-to-do Paulistanos alike, established themselves on the former coffee plantations and hillsides one-by-one as the city expanded. Since the midcentury, and especially since the high-crime days of the 1980's, relaxed zoning laws have allowed 30-story apartment towers to sprout across these neighborhoods, providing the rich with a more modern, "American" standard of living complete with strong metal fences and protected basement garages for automobiles. The result of this indiscriminate construction: after riding 30 minutes on the metro from the historic downtown, your view of the skyline remains pretty much the same.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="448" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/c7/Passeio_de_Helic%C3%B3ptero_em_S%C3%A3o_Paulo24.jpg/1024px-Passeio_de_Helic%C3%B3ptero_em_S%C3%A3o_Paulo24.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A patchwork of low-rise homes and high-rise apartments, the product of unrestricted and unplanned construction over the past few decades, sprawls out for hundreds of kilometers.<br />
<i>Ana Paula Hirana. Original: https://www.flickr.com/photos/33704098@N00/5746769466</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For me, the essential lesson from this reality is that São Paulo, as a city, is difficult to rationalize. In its hugeness and density and sprawl, it is difficult (for me as a stranger) to imagine its entirety. Its streets don't naturally orient you, as New York's gridiron does; its hills are too crowded and too numerous to provide clarifying vistas, as they do in San Francisco, or to provide a backdrop as they do in Los Angeles; its skyline, in its consistency, offers few beacons to the urban navigator, as the Hancock Tower has always been to me in Boston. Even its rivers, the Pinheiros and Tiete, can't contain or define the city; rather, their concrete riverbeds merely provide the courses for the city's circumferential highway, literally called <i>the Marginal</i>, which separates the slightly-older neighborhoods from the slightly-newer sprawl.<br />
<br />
Interestingly, this doesn't mean that São Paulo lacks a sense of place; rather, it seems to become a city of many, many places. The relaxed zoning means that some streets become disappointing strips of condo-tower garage ramps, but on other thoroughfares, neighborhood businesses have great freedom to improvise and thrive. The street art here is prolific and fantastic (notably <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g303631-d2349935-Reviews-Batman_Alley-Sao_Paulo_State_of_Sao_Paulo.html">Beco do Batman</a>, but countless murals exist elsewhere). There are big places: Avenida Paulista, formerly home to the powerful coffee planters' mansions, now home to powerful industry leaders' office towers; the Stock Exchange and Financial District; the plaza of the Metropolitan Cathedral.The tangle of streets provide plenty of opportunities for the great civic monuments to bump up against local markets and shops, spray-painted high-rises, and cluttered back-alleys. In essence, the hugeness of the city, and its improvised planning, provide the kind of nooks and crannies essential for humans to settle in and define their own lives.<br />
<br />
Of course, this is the outsider's perspective, based on my own observations and conversations with a few of the people I've met here. It's quite likely that a seasoned Paulistano would have a different conception than I would -- it would be interesting to ask how they've drawn up their mental maps.<br />
<br />
And also, of course, the unplanned nature of the city means that social problems can be very difficult to solve. Most notably is the entrenched social stratification, along class and race lines, inherent in the layout of the neighborhoods. The central neighborhoods here, with easy metro access and plenty of cultural amenities, are overwhelmingly upper-class and white. The city's working class people are largely people of color originating from Brazil's impoverished Northeast, and are relegated to peripheral neighborhoods. They face long commutes (up to three hours in one direction) on bus lines to get to employment centers downtown, with public social services (healthcare, education, etc) that are "ridiculously underfunded," in the words of one of my housemates. This is further exacerbated by interpersonal discrimination and prejudice. Many of the people I've spoken to have said that social mobility is extremely difficult, and many of the same wealthy families have been running the country's institutions for generations. Sound familiar?<br />
<br />
As the 21st century progresses, more and more people will be moving to cities like São Paulo. Urban planning in the 20th century, particularly in the United States, centralized its power in top-down urban renewal agencies. The sprawling metropolises of the 21st century may prove to simply be too gigantic, and will certainly prove to be too under-funded, to pursue that kind of erasure and demolition and resurrection. Much to the chagrin of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haussmann%27s_renovation_of_Paris">Baron von Haussmann</a>'s of the world, cities will likely need to live with their confusion and imperfection and un-idealism. Renovations and redesigns will still inevitably occur, but on a much smaller scale. However, these conditions may ultimately be an advantage. Could the reduction of central planning allow a shift in focus back to localization, to communities and neighborhoods? In other words, is it possible that, within the niches of the megacity, we could live at a more human scale? I would like to see this as a possibility, and imagine that modern life can become more, not less, alienating. Of course, the great challenge of this new urbanism will be ensuring that the people now on the periphery are not left behind. Can the people of privilege and power find new ways of bridging the gaps? Or will the amoebic cities of the future, having triumphed over history and trampled over geography, be increasingly defined only in terms of "inside" and "outside"?<br />
<br />
<a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3f/Greater_S%C3%A3o_Paulo_at_night.jpg/800px-Greater_S%C3%A3o_Paulo_at_night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3f/Greater_S%C3%A3o_Paulo_at_night.jpg/800px-Greater_S%C3%A3o_Paulo_at_night.jpg" width="468" /></a><br />
<br />
<i>Thanks for reading, sorry for the rambling! Do you have any thoughts about urbanism, or anything else? Leave a comment below!</i><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17816733433190886987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-34654930081408099182016-07-13T08:29:00.001-07:002016-07-13T10:48:45.286-07:00Olá, São Paulo!Olá! Tudo Bem? My name is Michael Costello, mechanical engineering student and member of the Olin College community of 2014. I'm spending the summer in São Paulo, Brazil, working with <a href="http://www.urban3d.co/">Urban3D</a>, a start-up company which partially emerged from IDDS in 2012. Urban3D is working on creating new technology to supplement and automate the construction process, with the ultimate goal of producing low-cost, environmentally sustainable, community-oriented building to address the developing world's infrastructure needs. As a mechanical engineer with an intense interest in urban design and development, Urban3D has been a natural fit. I'll be spending the next few weeks working on the design and prototyping of Urban3D's mechanical systems. However, as part of my work, I am also learning about the city itself, so that the system we design will provide maximum positive effect for communities here. After spending twenty years in the city of Boston (metro population 4.6 million, metro area 11,700 sq km), the change from the familiar brownstone row-houses has shown me quite a bit about how cities react under intense human pressures, giving me a glimpse of the past and future of our rapidly-urbanizing world.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8LEWN53R1389corhcsqUMsJGHRJ1sfPHw_2mPLLil7s9mE0sMeiwj43b1FO26ybhyphenhyphenpR5z20tNhXPh4638k9ry2_vNPs79Qn4hW2hp1ALCFq2rvqcz0EcGGEUUvDd0z0SNsJRJJhiHOA/s1600/sao_paulo_intro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8LEWN53R1389corhcsqUMsJGHRJ1sfPHw_2mPLLil7s9mE0sMeiwj43b1FO26ybhyphenhyphenpR5z20tNhXPh4638k9ry2_vNPs79Qn4hW2hp1ALCFq2rvqcz0EcGGEUUvDd0z0SNsJRJJhiHOA/s400/sao_paulo_intro.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from my hostel's roof. Not shown in this photo: zoning laws.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm a week into my trip already, so I've had some chance to get acclimated to the work environment and the new city. There's been plenty to think about. Having never traveled outside the country -- hell, outside of Massachusetts -- on my own, there are lots of topics I hope to reflect on. Already, I've been wrestling with some interesting ideas: the meaning of "international development," the philosophy of automation, the future of architecture, the strategies of constructing adequate infrastructure and solving social stratification (I have no answers so far, just more questions)... not to mention the more terrestrial experiences of being immersed in a different culture, like food, friends, work, fun, and conversing in Portuguese while not really knowing how to speak Portuguese. And, ultimately, the experience of getting used to a "normal routine" that is drastically different from the one I've always known. It's been an interesting experience so far, and the next few weeks promise to be equally exciting!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17816733433190886987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-76936503827212688032016-07-11T14:34:00.001-07:002016-07-11T14:42:52.314-07:00A Few Rants From Bogota<br />
<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIfRjsHAwZx1j_pTy_rRfFwYsYRMtChSOOJNX8nCKBCukLr9wHSF39hdhw6-g9vz6AmE_FceEIp3YNdZbEd1oF8UPeTXEnhY4fOdNZWnMT63-I87EqUyO8zcmnlhVnE8qyTIBjU6KeV8/s1600/20160703_114345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIfRjsHAwZx1j_pTy_rRfFwYsYRMtChSOOJNX8nCKBCukLr9wHSF39hdhw6-g9vz6AmE_FceEIp3YNdZbEd1oF8UPeTXEnhY4fOdNZWnMT63-I87EqUyO8zcmnlhVnE8qyTIBjU6KeV8/s400/20160703_114345.jpg" width="225" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As is often the case, the most interesting things this week have been conversations. Please bear in mind, that I mean this is often the case because new people can introduce new thoughts and ideas and carry around a lifetime of stories and experience. Many of my favorite conversations recently have been with my airbnb host’s mother. She seems to have taken a shining to me and enjoys teaching me parts of spanish I didn’t know, how to make the best hot chocolate of my life (sorry, mom), and even took me to the botanical garden (although I’m pretty sure this last is because she’s worried about me walking for hours up and down the city alone). I spent most of my last sunday walking with her through the botanical gardens which are phenomenal. They’re the closest I’ve been to a jungle since I was three in Costa Rica. While I had briefly discussed religion with Mao, my airbnb host, while visiting a church, this was a much longer conversation covering music, philosophy, politics, literature, sports, and American politics. She is a fervent Nirvana fan, likes Max Weber’s ideas, is neither conservative nor liberal, has read so many books it’s incredible, loves the colombian women’s soccer team, and has no idea how the U.S. could possibly elect Donald Trump. Our discussion of religion was enlightening as a glance at Colombia over the past three generations. Her parents were fervent Catholics. She, while educated by nuns in catholic school, said she was probably not catholic but was some type of christian. Mao, her son, told me he was a daoist (go figure). We even managed to go through what I like to call the grand inquisitor argument with no adverse effects*</span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. I have found here that people are much more open to differing ideologies and especially to different political opinions. That being said, a lot of the art in the museums here make me want to start apologizing profusely for the U.S. foreign policy over the last fifty years (I’ve seen so many american dollar planes attacking people I’m starting to have dreams about it). I also bring up Donald Trump because over the past two weeks I’ve had to explain my theory about how it’s possible he has risen to this much power more than 6 times...in spanish.</span></span></div>
<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="clear: left; float: left; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; margin-top: 0pt;">
<a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/33gr78M-x6vIRqxlcmzjGrAp5N2fm0h7hzPJAl_1dE5IrUEFZbDe9qK-leNN0o81NMlZogmW3W79O_tcGY9KlhZfOP1NuSo0srLrvfgP2VnWA26mVZA3IFa1tBlT9mJfFy3Fn2AD" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img alt="LittleFreeLibrary.jpg" border="0" height="416" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/33gr78M-x6vIRqxlcmzjGrAp5N2fm0h7hzPJAl_1dE5IrUEFZbDe9qK-leNN0o81NMlZogmW3W79O_tcGY9KlhZfOP1NuSo0srLrvfgP2VnWA26mVZA3IFa1tBlT9mJfFy3Fn2AD" style="border: none; transform: rotate(0rad);" width="312" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px;">I’ve had a busy week. Since last week I’ve been to four museums, walked nearly twenty miles of city, went to Roque el parque 2016, went to the botanical garden, saw the house of the author of Aura (weirdest book I’ve ever read), decided what two workshops I’m going to run, and figured out what build it I will do. The function of C-innova is development for colombia, and the easiest way they’ve found to do that is through education and workshops (weird, education works…). The first workshop I will be running is on how to build the little community libraries. There are differing opinions on the functionality and benefits of these little libraries, but overall I feel that they’ll be a positive step for Colombia. People here love to share opinions and ideas so much and they would probably help brighten up the never ending fences and walls. The people here at C-innova also see them as a branding opportunity so that we can put our name out there more and attract people to other workshops that we have. The libraries are also very cheap because they can be made out of almost anything. In addition, these little free libraries may be a way to help bridge the education gap inherent in many school systems. Over the past few decades it has become apparent that while low income students learn just as</span></span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> much as middle and upper income students during the school year, over the summer they fall far behind (sorry, but maybe no summer vacation is the way to go...now that I’m safely through that time). In recent years this has been pinned on a lack of accessibility, and little free libraries may be a way to bridge this gap**</span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: black; float: left; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: black; float: left; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: black; float: left; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img alt="Media-Based-Aquaponics-System.png" height="541" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/h1OCU-EC_G-6p_YxjcZESHp6yIB0s2niVLUE6bLuf5aObJv4ISQtpvLoc5Pj9MFwg2PoEHEM0L76_iy-2fA_mXYtQpkB_pjyT5O-VVVD-k4f7tfjR_zzAJkuu5KB27Iwk50n1Llr" style="border: none; transform: rotate(0rad);" width="404" /></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 20.24px;">The second workshop that I’ll be doing involves aquaponic systems. Until about a year ago I was completely new to aquaponics, but then a friend invited me to join a club of people interested in building an aquaponic system. Since then I’ve become a huge proponent of the use of such systems. To put it mildly, the earth is on the edge of a huge food crisis, not always caused by simply not being able to grow enough, but sometimes caused by an inability to distribute what we do have (Seriously y’all, stop throwing away so much food). For evidence of this I recommend typing in Venezuelan food crisis into wikipedia and get ready to feel some bubbles of anger and frustration. In case you didn’t know, aquaponics systems allow for the growth year round of many times more vegetables and other plant life. These systems also allow for the cultivation of fish which use less food to become protein sources than any other animal. </span> In addition to this fact, it is predicted that most of the population growth over the next few decades will be in developing countries, including Colombia. What many of us (meaning those who are worried about the global food trend) are hoping to do, is help countries like Colombia leapfrog over the past couple of decades of inefficient and polluting agriculture that we had in the U.S. and move straight to this sort of agriculture that allows for low transport distances, one tenth as much water for a greater quantity of crops, and a healthy efficient protein source that’s not dumping CO2 and methane into the atmosphere***</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Also, it would be great if this technology could find its way across the border to Venezuela. The closest thing to this system I’ve seen here is a hydroponics system in the Botanical Garden.</span></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-9ac90212-dbcb-ae6e-9711-00c2b2f90309"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After a brief dalliance where I decided to see if I could break chemistry in order to build a cheap electrodialysis system (still want to see if I can do this), the group and I have voted on making a crank generator capable of charging cellphones and other USB powered devices. While C-innova here made solar chargers only a few weeks ago, they quickly realized that this system doesn’t work in Bogota, mostly because I’ve only seen the sun once or twice since I’ve been here. </span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img alt="weather.png" height="273" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/YJegCWIeqxAYKvbGR50fEnFWbdSkcZcvCmUi1hHFFLOn3NGSV-hgPDYx7O0sNNRjUfNuVgK0U6fZF1Dch_LPuhZTlkuuVXNnW3yEp-yeqnR17OfzFQKGQjdXRtOXFixclOtqve60" style="border: none; transform: rotate(0rad);" width="624" /></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The other idea is to do this at a much lower cost and with a greater degree of customizability. Basically, I will make the circuit and a diagram of how one would make that circuit themselves and how to connect it to a hand crank, or a bike, or whatever suits the fancy of those who want to use it. It hasn’t been terribly easy because a lot of the components and items I take for granted in the U.S. have to be shipped here, usually from the U.S. or China. I’ll also draw up a couple of fun educational circuits that these guys can use when I’m not around, small Van Der Graaf generators and little games to teach circuit logic. Maybe we could make a sort of obstacle course out logic gates? I’ll have to think about it. In any case, it’s nice to have an objective and a course to pursue. For further rants about the state of agriculture and bizarre political opinions, tune in next week to Maddy has a headache from trying to learn as much spanish as possible over only a few weeks and has a tongue that seems to no longer be able to form syllables.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 14.6667px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">*</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I nicknamed this argument after the section titled, “The Grand Inquisitor” in “The Brother’s Karamazov.” Somehow it is held up as one of the best arguments against religion even while the entire book is held up as one of the greatest arguments for religion. It’s worth reading. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; white-space: pre-wrap;">**<a href="http://www.booksourcebanter.com/2015/05/08/why-do-poor-students-lag-behind-rich-students-in-reading-development/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">One Example</a> This is just one article on one idea on a very complex subject, but it is far from the only one with this belief.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; white-space: pre-wrap;">***</span><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 13.3333px; white-space: pre-wrap;">For further information I recommend google or this fantastic book: ”Aquaponic Gardening: A Step-By-Step Guide to Raising Vegetables and Fish Together”, by Sylvia Bernstein</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17979359058359401690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-50796829805958184902016-07-11T12:45:00.004-07:002016-07-11T12:45:49.195-07:00Expression in Colombia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="clear: left; float: left; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; margin-top: 0pt;">
<a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/qNlpd9gVdMGMLmkLmk8A7VuzlZVF7f1Sco-VV4qDTm95cGgHCLfef-8aERcSlG0y_Ap9guY-LO9CndduCqkspc_NUcbm157_Z7ddooFQeRbOBQyd9P062PuCtXR-Sne7uPWauAtD" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="20160629_090218.jpg" border="0" height="400" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/qNlpd9gVdMGMLmkLmk8A7VuzlZVF7f1Sco-VV4qDTm95cGgHCLfef-8aERcSlG0y_Ap9guY-LO9CndduCqkspc_NUcbm157_Z7ddooFQeRbOBQyd9P062PuCtXR-Sne7uPWauAtD" style="border: none; transform: rotate(0rad);" width="224" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Colombia is not what I expected. I suppose I had expected some fusion of Mexico, Spain, and Costa Rica; the three spanish speaking countries I’ve travelled to before now. When I first arrived here, I was far too exhausted to notice anything and just barely managed to squeak out enough words in spanish to get through customs and into a taxi with the host of my airbnb (thank you, modern world). After being handed six keys to get in or out of my apartment, I collapsed for a night’s sleep. What greeted me the next morning was a sight of beautiful mountains and apartments leading up into the hills. I was a little taken back as I had expected it to look somewhat more refined, more like the careful masonry of Spain or the parts of northern Mexico I used to frequent when I was much younger. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> What really shocked me was the razor wire. My exceptionally kind host escorted me around the city and I tried not to stare at pieces of trash, high steel fences surrounding all the apartments, and graffiti everywhere I could see. While I realize that the broken window theory is mostly debunked at this point, it is still exceptionally unnerving. To add to all this, while I speak spanish fairly well with a single person and can read it, the conversations that were whirling around me were far too much to keep up with. I felt surrounded by a foreign world and began to ask myself what I had gotten into, I mean I wanted to help people, but this was a pretty crazy place to live alone.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> I’m not alone per say, as I’m sharing an apartment with my host and his mother. But between them they do not speak much English and it can be exhausting to constantly try to think and converse in another language. My host, Mao, is very amiable and swings by my little room asking if I need anything or want to go with him to get coffee. His mother even gave me an impromptu geography and history lesson about Colombia which nearly blew my socks off. I consider myself fairly educated for an American and I still had managed to forget that Brazil and Colombia share a border. Stupid Mercator projection making me forget just how huge South America is. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 14.6667px; line-height: 1.38;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> I got to meet the people that I will be working with for the next six weeks on my first day in Colombia. After walking past huge fences and lots of razor wire (still shocks me a little), I finally stumbled upon the building. The group I’m working with, C-innova, share a space called Lab1 which is squished in between several stores and apartment buildings. It stands out to put it mildly.</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img alt="20160630_172214.jpg" height="225" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/OqDa5mhUmBvzeZTXL3TwopzWQ_KQAZWR4jKNH7I9f6eEbDXVwZXZlMc0UypHDwuoWJZWtHzFZzkIw-MIJGr_lMrfSnLmQvUeZkjVVApNDZu16lsgvPAQbrp7kUe3zZ9PK-5Su1mk" style="border: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; transform: rotate(0rad);" width="400" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">C-innova and Lab1</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Yes, the yellow building here is Lab1. During lunch one day I asked one of my hosts (coworkers?),Johanna, what the fences and graffiti were about since I found them so surprising. The fences were because there was a specific type of robber who specializes in apartments and if there is an easy means of egress or ingress then the apartment or building is a prime target (hence my six keys to get to my room). The graffiti however was nothing to worry over since rather than a person or group staking territory, it was more of a form of self expression. At first, I didn’t really understand this idea. I decided it would be fun to walk to the National Museum of Colombia, especially since the first Saturday of the month was free. On my walk I saw some truly stunning graffiti, telling stories, announcements (including one for a movie), and opinions. </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img alt="20160702_153632.jpg" height="249" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/fb43edF7nnrlZEpKQ6V-2nHUdurUDdQF8Ii7bKKAKoPqz24D6ZofrNBz9ND_z8C23Pmzq-E8wiCFD7oWXted1V50xVI-9IoS06hdTaDxGOp8cQLqIxGTuxxIOiw-AkVmKkwVDvvO" style="border: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; transform: rotate(0rad);" width="442" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Man playing dominoes in La Candeleria</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After having spent most of my last few days barely speaking for fear of messing up, I began to understand the incredible quantity of graffiti. When you’re forced to close your doors, add razor wire or broken glass to the tops of your walls and cannot afford nor care to appear too wealthy, street art makes sense. Expression is something that humans crave and Bogota has found its calling. There are even tours for just the graffiti which are, of course, conducted in English. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> When I was b</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">ack in Dallas, I was forced onto the skytran along with a few other unwilling passengers (I mean, what’s so wrong with wanting to take a walk?!). I heard a couple of people speaking spanish. I wondered if they felt ostracized and after working up my courage asked them in spanish where they were headed and if they had watched the Copa America tournament. They exuded joy it seemed at not being so isolated in a country where we are being told by certain groups to despise foreignness, and especially that they could just speak. </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We talked about the various performances and lamented about the rumours that Messi would no longer play for Argentina (please Messi, don’t do this...you bring joy to the world by playing as marvelously as you do). We wished each other good luck to our various destinations, them to San Salvador and me to Bogota. Filled with a good will for humanity I watched a stranger’s bags while she went to the bathroom regardless of the loudspeaker blaring that I shouldn’t. I was rebelling in a place that forced me to remove almost everything I was using as expression and stand nearly naked whenever called upon to do so, a place where I had to walk where told and sit like a good puppy and not say the wrong words or act outside the norm. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWvXtCRoPVSjOCu9tycYZMadGlaFv0ur9vFdfjVSxBdO30-Q-cv8Ky1Rh3jSLZXE6Ctkz_tteiVitJMmhshlwIw9cVXoAxF3n2lJXbQ44mrRKoMVXxQ7f_7yjL3TMCxRfSoEciM8rm2Y/s1600/20160702_153650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="395" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWvXtCRoPVSjOCu9tycYZMadGlaFv0ur9vFdfjVSxBdO30-Q-cv8Ky1Rh3jSLZXE6Ctkz_tteiVitJMmhshlwIw9cVXoAxF3n2lJXbQ44mrRKoMVXxQ7f_7yjL3TMCxRfSoEciM8rm2Y/s400/20160702_153650.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-50f98efc-adda-f4b6-ac63-260c1a9077e8"></span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So if I lived in Colombia, I’d probably cover my overly large walls and gates with beautiful paint as well. I admired that they didn’t have perfectly manicured lawns leading to the exact same house with the exact same cars and the exact same suits walking out each morning at exactly the same time. We all need a way to express ourselves, and street art like this, seems like a great way to do so. My Costa Rican friends would say “Pura Vida” about the art which roughly translates to "pure life" but really means "cool"(What a fantastic expression!). The Colombians would say “Es Chevere.” Hasta la proxima semana chicos.</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17979359058359401690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-22066023454309685652016-07-04T04:07:00.003-07:002016-07-04T04:07:19.734-07:00Representing Twende in Dar es Salaam<div class="MsoNormal">
Twende workshop is located in Arusha, Tanzania. It’s our
office, shop, and showroom, and home base—our only location. In addition to
travelling out to more rural areas, we occasionally travel to advertise Twende
and meet like-minded people. And that’s how I ended up spending a week in Dar
es Salaam, Tanzania’s industrial capitol and largest city.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent the first half of the week in a USAID “co-creation
workshop” about improving adolescent girls’ education in Tanzania and Malawi.
The idea was to bring together a bunch of organizations addressing girls’
education from different angles and put them to work together to come up with
unique, holistic ways to improve enrollment and retention in schools. Twende
was definitely one of the smallest—if not the smallest—organizations there. But
I think we did have a unique perspective from being more on-the-ground and
community-focused than some larger organizations. The workshop itself was
interesting. We were told this whole collaboration ideation thing is a new
method USAID is trying. It was all very “design” in a way that I think Oliners
are used to—lots of butcher paper and Post-it notes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent the second half of my week at a conference on
Tanzanian startups. This one was very much aimed at young entrepreneurs. I’m
not sure how to describe it except that it looked like a startup conference
pretty much anywhere else in the world. I met lots of young people who were
just overall very excited about the idea of starting their own businesses.
There, I spent a lot of time talking about Twende, and I realized just how
different we are in the field of startup incubators, innovation hubs, or
whatever you want to call them, in the area. Unlike these others, Twende
focuses on mechanical innovations, and many people (at both conferences) told
me they knew great resources for business, web design, and coding support but
nothing for mechanical innovators. The most common comments I received about
Twende were: “Why are you only in Arusha?” and “Everybody should know about
this.”<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3827769850437218028.post-521878127411708362016-07-01T06:43:00.000-07:002016-07-20T08:40:43.195-07:00Day 19: Finding My Place<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; line-height: 20px; text-align: left;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFRVPN8UJ6i7TRgp_aKmQjWrMIHvvZGmLuyxGbn5SkiCNVpA4ahrfA4Hzh3WRL_y8LReoAgYHbt_F169YPIMUhOUImhgo1SyCIwltET-jWYtMI15Z3g3ujUvwDlBSUr-VsWSTTicKhSzE/s1600/DSC_0050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFRVPN8UJ6i7TRgp_aKmQjWrMIHvvZGmLuyxGbn5SkiCNVpA4ahrfA4Hzh3WRL_y8LReoAgYHbt_F169YPIMUhOUImhgo1SyCIwltET-jWYtMI15Z3g3ujUvwDlBSUr-VsWSTTicKhSzE/s400/DSC_0050.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of the road outside my house.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"> Yesterday, I rode into town in a cramped dala dala. The small minivan-sized bus with “Tracy Chapman” written on the front windshield and “Praise Jesus” on the back picked me up at the Fiber stop, just a five minute walk from my house and across the street from the large fiberboard factory. I squeezed into a seat in the third row. There were 20 people already in the dala dala, with more joining at each stop. I was lucky I had a seat. Last week I was standing on the lip outside the open sliding door with the motorcycles passing within inches of me. Pushed up against the window, I looked around. I was at least a head higher than anyone else around me, my white skin providing a stark contrast to dark color of everyone else’s. A little girl with a pink headband sitting next to me in her mom’s lap looked up at me with big eyes, only glancing away when her mother spoke. The conductor of the dala dala rattled the coins in his hand and I reached for me wallet. With the little girl’s mother squished up against me and solidly blocking access to my right pocket I squirmed and wiggled to fish out my wallet. I caught glances from others in the dala dala as I was finally able to hand the conductor my 400 shillings. “Clock Tower, Asante,” I said, using my limited Swahili. “Okay,” he responded in English.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yw0rub_KMSOyjU8F05OoZQYx1usd-VATf8qc7h5UZE4yWqmW4KKFySAztYwMvLDfo-1JKfopqrbqT2eJFXpkqgOV4vINseeUwC0HQzqC2G7HEKn99eIW1d9F5xgRPpLE3AcBmvWUCyc/s1600/DSC_0109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yw0rub_KMSOyjU8F05OoZQYx1usd-VATf8qc7h5UZE4yWqmW4KKFySAztYwMvLDfo-1JKfopqrbqT2eJFXpkqgOV4vINseeUwC0HQzqC2G7HEKn99eIW1d9F5xgRPpLE3AcBmvWUCyc/s400/DSC_0109.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A typical dala dala.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: 11px; white-space: pre;"> </span>When I got off at Clock Tower, a man in a grey shirt came up to me. “You are looking for Airtel? Bank? Let me show you.” I said nothing and looked right, then left, and crossed the street. “Sir, how many days for safari?”, another man proclaimed as I walked by. “How many days?”, he repeated, following close behind me. I turned left down the street, pulled out my phone, and searched “Arusha post office”. I did my best to look like like I knew where I was going, even though it was obvious I was lost. I looked up and across the street to see “Tanzania Post Office” in big letters on the side a blue building. I put my phone back in my pocket, and pulled out my large, obvious camera for a few quick shots of the architecture and the busy round-about. Camera in hand, I once again crossed the street. “Sir, looking for post office? Here I can show you.” “Hey, brother from another mother, how are you? We know each other.” I kept my focus ahead and walked up the steps.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedpPqgQPwfhd1IGwHETvUPgSR9Wxst5j2gliJf0YGoxKonBca9Xw5dcVHRT26PSO4vf9aKM5qflR9kFlh75pvPTBsjq_h-IECx5maP77EDaVcIaXMlb7Xrqov3vDajQR67IsMEPayizE/s1600/DSC_0300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedpPqgQPwfhd1IGwHETvUPgSR9Wxst5j2gliJf0YGoxKonBca9Xw5dcVHRT26PSO4vf9aKM5qflR9kFlh75pvPTBsjq_h-IECx5maP77EDaVcIaXMlb7Xrqov3vDajQR67IsMEPayizE/s400/DSC_0300.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Clock Tower" in Arusha.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-size: 11px; white-space: pre;"> </span>Tourists are loud, ignorant of local customs, and unaware of their surroundings. They butcher the language, they stand in the middle of the sidewalk lost and look at their phones, they take pictures everything with their cameras. I am a tourist. I hate being a tourist. This would be the part where normally I would say that even after being here only for a little while, I don’t feel like a tourist anymore. But I’ve been in Arusha, Tanzania for almost three weeks now, and I’ve learned there is no chance I am ever going to blend in with the local population. But that’s okay. I am a tourist, I am the “other”. I will still do my best to learn the language, the customs, and my way around. But when I pass by a group of kids, I will always hear “Hi! Hi! How are you! Hi!”. When I can truly embrace my status as a tourist, I can find my place. Here, I will always be a mzungu.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805617180540617552noreply@blogger.com0Arusha, Tanzania-3.3869254 36.6829927-3.5137314 36.5216312 -3.2601194 36.8443542