I'm in Thailand, and should be blogging about Thailand, but here's some catch up on the camping trip. I wasn't sure which picture of rocks and trees to show you so here's a random selection.

Seriously, I think I should just drive around with a canoe tied to the roof of my car all the time. First of all, it just makes me happy to look up and see a canoe on the roof of my car. Second of all, it doesn't really change my fuel efficiency much (surprisingly). Third, it is a whole lot easier to find my car in parking lots.

Had a great canoe trip and hope to provide some photos and details tomorrow.

I had a chance between breakfast and the morning sessions to get out and go for a quick hike. It was great to be outside the conference meeting walls for even a few minutes. This place is quite beautiful as I hope you'll agree

.

There is a lot of information to absorb in a very short period of time at this conference. I'm thankful that I have at least some basic idea of what is going on so I am not completely blown out of the water, but people are using these tools, on a much higher level than I can cope with at the moment. But is is exciting to see the amount of enthusiasm and innovation that is going on. Almost too much innovation. How am I supposed to choose among so many options?

Now I'm at this conference, which was a bit of an adventure to get to. My flight was late, so the car rental company I had a reservation with had closed, and I had to get a car on the spot from another company that was still, lucky for me, open. Then I had to drive up through the San Bernardino National Park at 1 in the morning. I realized at some point that this trip is actually stretching my comfort zone more than the Haiti trip. When I go to Haiti, I know who I'm meeting, and how I relate, where I will sleep, what the meal and bathroom protocol is, etc. The conference situation is totally new. Getting here itself was a stretch. One might even argue that the 'language' is unfamiliar, since there are numerous technical terms which I don't know or am just learning. This irony is underscored all the more by the fact that I just got back from Haiti the night before last, and then immediately turned around and came up here. In a few minutes I should go and register for this thing.

I wanted to run to the Hyatt here in the airport in Dallas Fort Worth as soon as I got here and just rent a room and lie on a comfortable bed for a few hours. I almost wish I hadn't done it that one time because now it will become a huge temptation.

This current trip, just so you know, is to a conference on GIS in conservation. GIS stands for Geographical Information Systems which is, well, a group of technologies which help to represent information spatially. I'm just learning about it myself, and so going to this conference in order to learn. The greatest thing about it for me is that it means making maps, and if you know me you know I love maps. So getting to make maps is like a dream come true.

Here's a post-trip selection of photos from Haiti:

Metal drums flattened out to be used in the making of metal craftwork. This 'Fe Forje' is very beautiful and a famous Haitian artform, used for wall hangings, frames, signs, wall dividers, and numerous other things. Unfortunately I didn't take any photos of the actual craftwork, which would have made the point much more nicely, but there is an entire village where in house after house metal worker artists are practicing their trade. Definitely worth seeing if you get to Haiti, and worth purchasing--I have none myself yet, but am always keeping my eye out for the right one.

Early morning coming down out of Gran Goave commune heading to the airport. The peak you see on the right is Pic de la Sel, the highest point in Haiti.

One of the newest hotels in Port au Prince, the Caribbean Lodge, which in the few months since it has opened has become an aid worker hangout. Building is constructed out of shipping containers which appear to have been modified especially for that purpose. Pricey at 125USD per night, a bit out of my range, but free and ubiquitous wifi, free breakfast and dinner, and more A/C than you could possibly handle. The concept itself is quite clever.

This hotel bed was so comfortable, I didn't much want to get out of it this morning. I did have to get up, get breakfast, so some computer work, etc, and I started wondering what it would be like to actually live in the airport. If that were even possible. It would sure be convenient for me--no more rushing to the airport, and begging people for rides, or paying for expensive shuttles. My room get cleaned whenever I want, and I can have food delivered to my door at any time of day or night. Plus the room is really not a whole lot smaller than my apartment. I'm pretty sure I could make that work. Right now I'm going to head out of the lobby, and go print my tickets.

Heard an interesting comment from someone today while talking about zombies (in Haiti). The comment was "I don't believe it, but I know they exist".

Let you think about that one...

Meanwhile, I'm back in Toronto, with a layover squashed between trips, trying to catch a few hours sleep in the airport hotel. After I log off here that is.

Some photos of the new high school in the community where our office is located. Nice rooms with lots of space, ventilation, and supposedly earthquake resistant.

Today was a day of mostly translating. "Interpreting" actually, as I learned recently, the difference being that translation is for the written word and interpretation for spoken word. I actually quite like interpretation. It's like you shut down entirely a major part of the brain and switch on another major part. I kind of wish I was a real, official interpreter. The challenge is to try and best represent the thoughts of the person balancing between a precise representation of their words and a true representation of the core thought. All the while on the fly with no time to look anything up. I just find it really fun and by the end of the day, feel like my brain has physically worked out. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I can actually feel my brain at times like this. If that makes any sense at all. Hard to describe if you've never experienced it yourself.

So I may as well keep blogging while I can because who knows when I can again. Seems to have something to do with the rain or something. I saw houses like this scattered around both in the city and the country side. Apparently earthquake and hurricane resistance, and provided by some agency or other. I heard a rumour that in order to receive a house like this you had to sign some document promising not to try to emigrate to another country, but I have absolutely no idea if that is true. Seems like something that wouldn't be true, but one never knows. Regardless, besides the house building I have schools reconstructed in a couple of rural communities now, as well as some debris removal work on the National Palace. It's nice to see that some reconstruction is finally happening. I suppose the biggest sign that reconstruction is happening is that Haiti is totally out of the news now. Seems as if the press only likes to report when things are going badly here.

Internet connection is a bit sketchy here in our office so I apologize for the failure to communicate. This week my main function is translator since we have a consultant here who is giving a training on a particular savings and loan system designed for people in poor communities. Since we've arrived it has pretty much rained every afternoon, and most farmers are out preparing land, planting beans etc. The following is one of those tropical afternoons when the sun is still shining down, but there's a dark cloud coming behind. After I took this photo it started to pour about 15 minutes later.

And so begins a summer of journeys. I was describing to a friend recently how many trips I had coming up this summer, and his comment was, "Oh good, so there should be lots of grumpy entries from airports on your blog". I don't know, I'm just always happy to hear that someone is reading my blog at all, regardless.

Actually the journeying started a couple of weeks ago when I went out to the Kingston area to help friends of mine who are building a house this summer. They have designed it themselves and are doing most of the work as well. I've been describing it as my-friends-who-have-been-so-generous-over-the-years-and-now-they're-calling-in-their-favours-to-build-their-house. Which is not really true. They're building it themselves because they want to and are the creative types, and their friends are helping them because they want to, and quite frankly I learned a tonne about house-building in the couple days I was there. I hope to get out there again if I can, somewhere between grouchy blog entries (this entry is being made from an airport, by the way).

Here is a photo of my friend looking out the window of his house's first wall for the first time.

There's a couple of moths who have been hanging out on my patio screen for the past few days. I was struck this morning by what seems to me to be the remarkable similarity between the moth silhouette and the shape of the B2 stealth bomber. I don't know, maybe you don't see it. But it is known that some moths are able to evade bat sonar (for real, look it up!). So is it possible that the military noticed that and copied moth 'technology'? Or is it a case where the military came up with the shape completely independently? Or is it just coincidence and has nothing to do with being stealthy at all? Or is it just my imagination?

Have a look at tell me what you think...

(the picture of the moths is mine, the B2 I downloaded from the web, just to be clear.)

Another trip comes to an end. and with the exception of a 3 hour delay due to mechanical problems, the return home was uneventful.

To answer the question that appeared in the comments section, there has been in the past manufacturing in Haiti, with clothes being one of the major products. There was a sporting goods company that made baseballs in Haiti but they pulled out in the early 90's due to political instability. There is also a free trade zone (or maybe more than one) where foreign companies are being encouraged to open for business, but I am not sure who is there or what they are manufacturing. Also in the neighbouring DR, a significant amount of the labour in the farm, construction and hotel industry is Haitian. Not a very complete answer sorry, but yes there is manufacturing on a limited scale, and potential for more.

So here's another travel tip which I don't think I've mentioned before:

When flushing with a bucket, be sure not to stand in the same plane as the direction of the bucket pour itself.

This is one of the results of the study, a map drawn by community members indicating the rivers, roads, various communities, forested and deforested areas, schools, clinics, and churches. There's a lot of info here that really wouldn't be available anywhere else, and is also surprisingly geographically accurate.

I spent some time trying to capture motorcycle images going by in front of my house. There was one that went by with 4 people, and I even saw one with 5 (two babies), but unfortunately couldn't get those on film. Here are the best of the ones on got:

For some reason I was dreaming very vividly last night. Pretty much as soon as my head hit the pillow and I drifted off. But probably one of the strangest things was not even a dream. My landlady--who is a retired restaurant owner, and who has been renting me a room and providing my meals for the past 2 weeks--arrived home late and discovered that there were leftovers from my dinner. So she calls out to me from the kitchen--keep in mind that I am in my room, dreaming vividly and that she is speaking rapidly in Spanish--

"Hey Bob, do you want to save these leftovers for tomorrow, or can I give them to someone else?" Being only half awake, I wasn't entirely understanding, so I replied,

"I had plenty to eat thanks."

So then she says,

"I asked you, do you want to save these leftovers or can I give them away?"

Still not entirely sure I was understanding (either words or the situation), I said,

"Thanks, I had enough to eat."

I hear her sigh, and mutter to herself, "he doesn't understand"

Then I hear her shuffle out of the kitchen into the backyard, out onto the street and shout,

"Hey, Haitian, come here!"

I don't know if she was just calling any random Haitian hanging out, of which there are often several, or if she was calling someone she knows (she knows a lot of people), but regardless, about a minute later she and some Haitian guy I have never seen approach my door and she repeats her question in Spanish and the Haitian asks me in Creole if I want to keep the leftovers or not. I say, no in Creole, he says no to my landlady in Spanish. She smiles, the Haitian wishes me a good night, then they both leave, and I close my bedroom door and go back to vivid dreaming, now confused as to when I am dreaming and when I am awake.

Today was a day of getting ready for the focus groups which we are planning for tomorrow. Reviewing the discussion exercises we will use--known as participatory tools--training the staff in how to use them, and preparing in advance for various problems or logistical challenges which we might encounter.

In the late afternoon we made a quick visit to the communities in the watershed that were invited, to remind them of tomorrow's meeting. While waiting for one leader to show up at her house, I took the chance to walk around a bit. It is really quite a beautiful area, and although the folks living here are considered to be some of the poorest in the country, the setting itself I find quite stunning. (which isn't to imply in any way that the attached photo itself is stunning; it really isn't especially given what I was actually looking at)

I have a theory (I have many theories if you've ever noticed). The history books tell us that the Taino, the people indigenous to this island were completely wiped out by enslavement or disease within 40 years of European arrival. However I think that is highly unlikely for several reasons:

1. This is a big mountainous place, with extremely difficult terrain, and there are still areas even today which are hard to get to and where few 'europeans' have ever been, even 500 years later. So I doubt that in 40 years, Columbus and his associates could have reliably confirmed the complete extinction of an entire nation

2. During slave revolts in the French colony, the rebels were able to successfully hide in the mountains for decades, and ultimately were able to successfully drive the French from the island. Even in the early 1900's, the Caco warriors hiding out in the Central Plateau of Haiti were able to wage a not insubstantial resistance against US marines for a number of years.

3. Island dwellers have been demonstrated to have much more significant open water navigation skills that has often been thought (see Guns, Germs, and Steel). I suspect there was likely considerable inter island and Central America coastal travel by the Taino, Arawaks, Caribs and others long before 1492.

This all leads, to the possibility that the Taino may have quietly cleared out of the coastal areas where the colonial towns and plantations were popping up, and headed for the hills, or even more likely out to sea. If anyone has knowledge of this subject, I'd love to hear from you.

So now that the data has been collected, I've spent the better part of the last couple of days trying to get it entered on a spreadsheet. So far I've entered 90+ of 120 surveys total. This includes double checking of every single data point before moving on. A slow, and somewhat tedious process, but worth the trouble to preserve the truth so to speak. I recently read a book on statistical analysis, where the author said that he spends about 20% of his time actually doing the analysis and about 80% of his time getting the data in proper shape. This I don't think includes the actual collection of data, which would make the actual proportion of the time doing analysis even smaller.

So the page of the survey you see below, if you actually take a closer look, includes questions like, how old are you?, what kind of techniques do you apply on your farm?, and how much soil are you losing on your farm? Incidently I've been tracking the average number of persons per household as I've been entering the data. Up til now the average from our survey is 4.15 persons/household. The official 2002 government census reports 4.05 persons/hh for the same municipality. Just a small check, but makes me feel good about the data so far.

Yesterday my neighbour was telling how salt fish is a Dominican product. I didn't bother to point out that historically a large portion of the salt fish sold in the Caribbean has come from the Grand Banks off the eastern coast of Canada, for centuries in fact. The strange thing is that it has come to be considered as a local food. Here in the DR thye eat bacalao, in Haiti aransol, in Jamaica saltfish--all very delicious and prepared slightly differently in each country. What makes this even stranger, is that in Newfoundland, they drink something called screech, which I thought for years was some sort of local newfie moonshine. Turns out that it is actually Jamaican rum which filled the holds of Canadian sailing ships after unloading the saltfish. Supposedly on the return voyage the mast rigging made a squealing noise, hence the name.

The thing about the Caribbean is that pretty much most of the things it is known for come from somewhere else--coffee, sugar (and the rum it makes), bananas, even the people were 'imported'. I wonder if the early colonialists really where thinking about the grand social experiment on which they were embarking. Maybe. I would love to get inside some 15th or 16th century mind and find out.

So be careful what you wish for is what I've heard. It rained yesterday. A lot. The picture below is my attempt to capture the massive black wall of rain making it's way towards us in the afternoon. What followed was probably an hour or more of solid tropical downpour. The rivers blew up of course. The Ozama River which you see in the second picture is probably more than twice as wide in the photo as it normally is, and 4 times the depth. This meant that we were trapped between two parts of the river on a road with no bridges and ended up having to spend that night waiting for the river to subside. We (the agronomist and myself) stumbled upon an 86 year old farmer living next to (but well above) the river and he and his wife generously offered to host us for the night. He went on at length about respecting the river, and how someone had fallen in during a flash flood and had been found many kilometres downstream. I spent much of the evening thinking about how I had been just before praising farmers for their acceptance of the ways of nature, and how frustrated I was sitting there. Very poetic--the bitter irony that is.

The next morning we got up around 6 to check the crossing. The water had definitely gone down, but I decided it would be a good idea to wade across to make sure there were no unexpected deep spots where the truck might submerge below the air intake and completely strand us. This I did extremely carefully (don't worry), although the current was a bit sketchy in a couple of spots and each step took a while, but I got across no problem, and confirmed a safe path for the pickup. At this point, my co-worker had to go back up the hill to fetch the vehicle, leaving me on one side of the river, and my pants and shoes on the other. I spent that time thinking about how hilarious it would be if someone showed up and ran off with my pants (and wallet).

The rain coming straight at me and my camera

The Ozama river at the confluence with the Rio Verde--twice as wide and 4 times as deep as when we had crossed that morning

Just to follow up on yesterday's post to try to explain why I enjoy days like that. Among several reasons, probably the main one is talking to farmers. They, I think are a unique breed apart from the rest of us. Probably because they literally live and die by the sunlight, rain, soil, plants and animals. This makes them by default, intimately aware of nature, and its cycles and whims. On average, I've found that, especially subsistence farmers, have an understanding of our dependence on the natural world from which the rest of us have disconnected. This does not make farmers innocent or exempt, but it does mean that meeting and working with them is always a privilege, and gives me a chance better understand the natural world.

To take this a step further--in my opinion--historically in the Christian faith, many have seen the priest as humanity's conduit to God. And in a lot of places farmer's have sought the assistance of the clergy to connect with God. Ironically, I think we may have had this all backwards.

Today was one of my favourite kinds of days.

After the initial shock yesterday to everyone about how much work is going to be required in the next two weeks to complete this baseline study, we got down to the actual first steps today. I say first steps, although the chief agronomist here, and myself have been have been preparing the ground work for months. But today, the agronomist, and 4 other staff who will be going house to house in the target area conducting a survey, visited the community leaders to advise them of our intentions, and to plan community meetings to get local input. The other objective was to familiarize the other staff with the new region, and to introduce some of the concepts of watershed management on the fly.

My big regret is not being able to make small talk in Spanish. I mean I can barely do small talk in English. I can say technical stuff when I have to, mainly because a lot of the technical jargon transfers easily from one language to the other, but this leads people to mistakenly assume that I can also talk about the weather, sports, or the latest local news. Mostly I smile and nod and hope that no one thinks I'm being rude.

Last night I dreamed I was (very gingerly) crossing a river barefoot on the backs of crocodiles lined up side by side. (Please don't let that be a metaphor for dangerous pathogens hidden in the water!)

I woke up this morning to the sound of horseshoes clattering by on the street. About a minute later a scooter puttered by--probably at about the same speed. That is a funny thing about, well, this entire island; you can be warped from the 18th century to the 21st century in an instant. One of my American co-workers once observed that in the border area between Haiti and the DR where we are working, it is so isolated --no electricity, no running water, no telephones--that it seems almost like you are stepping back into a previous century. The only give away are the world cup tee-shirts.

So cases of cholera are jumping up now in the Dominican Republic. Which is making me think twice about things I might normally do, like drink water. I was invited to go swimming in a local river on Sunday. I am not sure how I can politely turn that down. Who wouldn't want to go swimming in this kind of weather. Well, I've got 6 days to figure out a strategy.

This morning the staff here in the Dominican Republic and myself met to go over the plans for evaluation that we are doing this year. Every three years we try to answer the question, "Are we making a difference?" A tough one for sure, and a lot of work is required, but an important question to be asking ourselves as an organization. It is kind of easy to go on planting trees, and training farmers, and assume that what we are doing is all good. However, once in a while, it is good to take a step back and try to get a view from a slightly different perspective. So much like a company might hire a marketing firm to help them understand how customers perceive or use their products, we go out and do household surveys and hold focus groups to discuss our work. We ask questions like, what are your sources of income? and how much of your farm is protected by trees? and what material is the floor of your house made of? This last question may seem a bit strange, but the fact of the matter is that if you ask people directly about their income, or their financial situation, you rarely get a reliable answer. Either because people don't really track their finances themselves, or they are reluctant (understandably) to tell others. So the thinking is to ask some indirect questions, which can give you an idea of how someone is doing, like whether they have a dirt floor or not.

I have arrived. After the standard airline gambit of gradual delays (I am sure there is an industry term for this) where they dispense a big delay in 15 to 30 minute increments so no one ever gets too bent out of shape. Turns out the total delay was 4 hours, but in the end I guess we are just happy to have arrived.

I do promise to explain more about what I am doing on this trip, but I'm tired, so I think I'll turn in, using my standard mosquito gambit of pointing the fan indirectly at my bed, creating just enough current to keep flying insects veering off course but not so much as to be uncomfortable.

I used to think that early morning flights were the way to go. At some point my thinking on that changed.

This trip is to the Dominican Republic. The program there is growing, and adding new communities in a new region. So this trip is about collecting baseline information so we can make informed decisions about what to do, and also so we will have something by which we can measure our progress in the future. We also will be consulting with communities and developing plans that make sense to them as well as us. More on all that later in the week, assuming I have internet access.

This particular project expansion is the first time that we will be looking at things from a watershed level. Working in reforestation and soil conservation, our work has always been influenced by watersheds, but to actually tackle an entire watershed in an organized way requires a bit more strategy. I will elaborate more on this too if the opportunity presents itself.

I expect boarding any second now. Planning on breakfast at JFK.

So I'm on my way home. I wonder what is was like for the early explorers, missionaries, traders, when the return journey meant 3 months on a creaky boat. I mean most of the time I spend less time in these countries than early travellers would have spent getting to the port where they would get their boat. Or wait for their boat.

My final shot from this trip is this beautiful drum I saw in a fancy resort (where I did not stay!). That and a shot of drummers in Bujumbura using somewhat more generic drums.

One thing I'm always excited about when I come to Burundi is the fish. I think there is something about the water of Lake Tanganika which makes the fish delicious. Mind you it is not the season right now, and so the fish are smaller and not quite as good tasting as normal, but still quite good. Below is mukeke, don't know the scientific name, which is an endemic species, I believe, and is one of the most popular in the region.

This I witnessed at a beach on Lake Tanganika. A restaurant where both locals and tourists go to relax and have a drink or a meal. Beautiful spot really, and therefore a good site apparently for a music video. This was a Catholic church choir, and although they are actually singing, they also had speakers hooked up to a generator for back up sound

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This farmers' association in the eastern part of Burundi has planted 5000 avocado seedlings which they are having grafted, and hope to sell for 1000 Francs each. If they sell all, this will give them a total gross income of about 400 US dollars. The group calls themselves Vyizigiro which means Hope. We spent the afternoon talking to them about their community and their work. It's really inspiring to me what they are doing, producing trees which can feed people, and protect the environment.

Today's post probably best told in pictures so:

A disease resistant banana variety, and the sprouts it produces at the base which are the traditional way of replanting

A new low cost propagation method which allows multiple shoots to be produced from one regular sprout

Seedlings transplanted by farmers in the Gihanga association (see the map)

The disease resistant variety bearing fruit

Finally made it. So now I've had about 16 hours sleep in 4 days, a lot of it in fits and starts on the plane. You people that get by regularly on 3-4 hours sleep a night, I don't know how you do it.

So I guess this is the disadvantage of an early morning flight in the winter. The plane sat out at the gate all night in the rain, then snow, and this froze some stuff apparently, which caused the plane to not work. They had technicians on board doing a reset. (with all our technological power, the reset is still one of the best ways to fix stuff?) So long story short, my flight has changed, and I now arrive in Bujumbura at 2 am. Or at least I have a flight itinerary which tells me so.

Funny thing about Zurich though, that bank of clouds you see flying in that looks like a mountain range? It's actually a mountain range that looks like a bank of clouds.

Got to take advantage of the free wifi while I can. Who knows when I'll have access again. Things are looking good for this flight: I've had about 6 hours sleep in the last 48 which is less than normal for me, and should render me unconscious for a good part of the Atlantic. That double espresso at the airport coffee shop probably wasn't such a good idea though...

today's agenda, some combination of planning and more watershed visits. I have to admit that it doesn't feel much like work, tooling around the country side, looking at trees and stuff.


View DR trip in a larger map

Today's journey was a meandering through a watershed to gather info, confirm some of the remote sensing analysis done in advance of the trip, and to generally familiarize ourselves with this potential new project area. It was satisfying to see that the satellite analysis matched up pretty closely with what we saw on the ground.

Posting all these maps is probably slowing down my blog, so I'll remove some of the older ones since all the previous points are still in this current map.

Car stuff

Every year I do some basic arithmetic on my car. Which for whatever reason interests me, but more than likely doesn't so much interest you. That isn't stopping me from sharing my findings:

-average fuel consumption for 2010 was 6.9 L/100km (which is exactly the advertised rating for my make and model)

-average cost per km is 25 cents but if you figure in depreciation it's closer to 37 cents

The chart below shows my average fuel consumption plotted throughout the year--again for the three of you out there that are interested:

Haiti election status

It is so difficult here to get any kind of reliable info about the elections in Haiti. Some say that everything is going great (this is mostly the electoral committee saying this), and others say that the country is on the verge of civil war.

I don't really know what's going on, but I do know that I spoke with a friend of mine this morning, an American living in Haiti who has been working in sustainable agriculture for many years. He told me that he saw people burning tires in the town where he lives and found himself kind of upset because they were burning the kinds of tires which turn inside out more easily and can be used to make small tire gardens. He said he found himself thinking that it would be ok if they were burning the tires that don't turn inside, out, but they could have used the others to grow vegetables. In fact my friend regularly goes to Port au Prince to pick up a truck load of used tires for vegetable containers, and this past week they were stopped by police since it was suspicious that anyone would be leaving the city with a load of tires. These days, tires are mostly being brought into Port au Prince for the burning and protest purposes.

Progress in Haiti

Yesterday morning, I heard yet another news report about how so much money has been spent in Haiti, and how there is nothing to show for it. I think we all share the same frustration, but I also wish that journalists would come and visit our project and see the hundreds of kilometres of soil conservation barriers that have been built on hundreds of hectares of land, the thousands of trees that have been planted and are thriving, hear the stories of the thousands of families who have received crops seed, tools, and jobs. It's not nothing. Lives have (it may be going too far to say 'saved') been stabilized, vulnerable land protected, farms have been made productive. Yes of course I'm defensive, because I have been a part of the earthquake response effort, but I just feel that the press is looking at this thing the wrong way. I challenge any journalist who was there in the early days after the quake--and I know there were swarms of them, I saw them myself--to recall just how grim and overwhelming those days were. Personally, I think the relief response was pretty incredible. In those early days, the country was at a tipping point, and things could have easily been much worse. In fact there was no major starvation, no collapse of the transportation or communication system, no widespread violence, and no major disease outbreak (cholera came later and is non-earthquake related). All of these were predicted, and none happened. So in fact journalists claiming that nothing has happened in Haiti is in a sense, a good thing. Of course, it is hard to prove a negative, but I think the relief efforts contributed significantly to ensuring that nothing happened. Yes, we've still got a long long way to go, and I too am frustrated, but I invite any journalist or other skeptic to please come and visit our project and still go home and say that nothing has been done. We are small, granted, but there are hundreds of efforts just like ours all across the country, that are doing something, and at least set the stage for families to build a better future. (assuming there is not another Biblical-scale plague)

A work crew in Fonds Verrettes, Haiti, posing next to a soil erosion barrier they had just built.

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So here's the full story on the baboon in Tarangire:

There is a specified lunch spot where all the park visitors eat, and each tour typically provides box lunches. At this particular site there are picnic tables set up along the edge of an a beautiful outlook from where you can see a river below and a large section of the park. The guides were just beginning to set out the white cardboard lunch boxes when I noticed that there was a rather large baboon (like the one in the picture, but not that one), sort of slowly making his way up the incline at the edge of the outlook toward our table. At this point he was still on the other side of the chest-high fence at the edge of the outlook. So I then said to the guide, "There's a baboon coming." and by the time I had finished that sentence, the baboon had suddenly sprung from gradual mode, and was on the picnic table, a distance of about 4 metres, with a lunch box in his hands. The guide, out of reflex probably more than anything, made a grab for the lunch box, and the baboon bared his very scary and large teeth with much hissing. All of us, inculding the baboon took a leap back, but the baboon maintained hold of the lunch, and quickly retreated back over the fence and back down the incline beyond the edge of the lookout. The whole incident was over in probably less than 5 seconds. I was amazed at how quickly the baboon could move. Not only that, but also the cleverness of his approach. He moved as slowly as possible as he edged up the incline so as not to be noticed, but as soon as I started to speak, it was like he recognized he had been discovered and knew he had to strike quickly. It's a good think he wasn't intent on attacking people, because I don't think anyone would have much chance against something so fast and intelligent, armed with those sharp teeth. Everyone had a good laugh after about our 'Tarangire Experience', a story which I am certain will improve with age.

A different, but similarly large baboon eating pods of the sausage tree, a natural alternative to tourist lunch boxes.

I regret not having been able to post more often on this trip. Been lots to share, but just no access. Probably my favourite story so far is the baboon that stole a lunch box from us in Tarangire National park. The details of this are worth expanding on, and I will share with you as per your interest, but suffice it to say that the staff here are now referring to it as the "Tarangire Experience"

Wheels off

I thought we had dropped into the ditch, except that the landcruiser was still on the road. The driver managed to bring it to a stop without losing control as we watched the left rear wheel go rolling by into an open field. This is a first time for me. Not just a blow out, but all the bolts on the axle shearing off and the the entire rim and tire leaving the vehicle. None of us could really come

up with a totally satisfying explanation.

Wheels down (?)

So is the opposite of wheels up, wheels down. It was an uneventful, (and therefore good) flight, where the highlight was trying to figure out how you pronounce the name of the airport in Amsterdam...

Wheels up

I'm really liking the phrase 'wheels up', which seems to have migrated from the military to civilian life. Or at least you hear it in movies and on TV: "Wheels up at 0300 hours" etc. I like it so much I resolve to start using it in regular speech, beginning with this post, since I go wheels up this afternoon. Destination Africa. Or would that be the LZ?...

Sunday afternoon I heard two loud "booms" outside my apartment which actually woke me from a pleasant nap. The power went off immediately, the smoke alarm started beeping, and then the general alarm started blaring. Shortly after that, the superintendent came on the PA system and said that there was a 'problem' with the transformer, and that there was no need to be alarmed. Now, in the 6 or 7 years I have lived here, no superintendent has ever come on to announce that there is no need to be alarmed, which actually tells me that there probably is. It turns out that we went without power for almost a full day and for a change I had to use candle power. It all seems so ironic somehow, having just come back from Haiti.

Where is Bob picture.

Find me in the Chicago Conservatory. (visiting friends over the weekend on my way back to YYZ).

My last night in Haiti and I am not sure what to end with. The month has gone quicker than I thought. Among other things I feel healthy which is a good thing, since people have been falling around me like tin soldiers. I still don't have a very good answer to the overwhelming nature of the earthquake and all that it has caused, and will continue to cause for a long time to come, but please at least accept this photo below of trees planted in our most recent project in the north of the country. These are less that 3 years old, and have been well cared for which is why they look so great.

On the way to the above site, as occasionally happens during field visits in hard to get to areas, one has times where one stumbles across women bathing in tropical mountain streams. Today was one such day, but my finely tuned cross cultural skills told me that it was not a good time to take a photo. Sorry.

Below find a photo of one of my favourite spots in Haiti, and where I am staying tonight, the Hotel Roi Christophe. Very historical, and where Henri Christophe one of the founding leaders of the country first worked as a baker. It was also a place where Napoleon's officers are supposed to have stayed. Very nice and oozing with history. If you ever visit, order the french toast for breakfast.

Finally, staying with this eclectic theme, I leave you with the lyrics of a song which have been running through my head the past few days, and seem at least marginally appropriate.

"Doctor, my eyes have seen the years

and the slow parade of fears without crying,

now I want to understand.

I have done all that I could

To see the evil and the good without hiding,

You must help me if you can.

Doctor: my eyes.

Tell me what is wrong,

Was I unwise to leave them open for so long?

As I have wandered through this world

And as each moment has unfurled

I've been waiting to awaken from this dream.

People go just where they will;

I never noticed them until I got this feeling

That it's later than it seems.

Doctor: my eyes.

Tell me what you see.

I hear their cries,

Just say if it's too late for me.

Doctor: my eyes.

I cannot see the sky.

Is this the price for having learned how not to cry?"

I think I may have become somehow an accidental rep for Coke. When I travel I tend to drink said beverage more often when home, and the past week or two here I've been going to a local vendor on the street just near our office. As I was returning the office with a freshly purchased bottle, I heard kid behind me saying, "blan, coca, blan coca". I interpreted this to either mean that I was continously buying the drink, or those two things were closely associated. I hope the company appreciates the free advertising.

Data entry is the activity of the moment. We have a team of 14 in the field interviewing households, and a team of 4 entering data. This is a somewhat repetitive task, but I'm excited to be getting the info we need to make some measurements on impact of our activities over the past 3 years in this particular area.

The Citadelle

I think I've been to the Citadelle at least 5 times, and each time I go I learn something new. It really is a marvel, and if you are ever in Haiti you should make a point of seeing it. In fact I would say you might want to come here just to see it. After Haiti gained independence, the ruler of the northern part of the country, Henri Christophe built this fortress perched on top of this mountain in case the French ever came back. They didn't and 200 years later, the structure still stands as a monument to independence. The photo shows the Citadelle from a distance, close to the town of Cap Haitian, and even from afar it is an intimidating sight.

Be careful what you wish for

A couple of weeks ago I was joking around with some visitors/program supporters about whether you would rather be the person that cut down the last tree in Haiti or ate the last sea turtle. Well, this poor fellow passed by me while I was having coffee on the patio of one of the nicer restaurants in Cap Haitian (the Roi Christophe--I think everyone should visit) and the fisherman in question was planning to sell to the kitchen. So, I guess you might be able to do both, possibly eating turtle soup off a table made of wood...

The past week I have been staying in our office in Acul du Nord, near Cap Haitien in the north. There are 5 of us, 2 sleeping in the existing beds, and 3 sleeping on the floor. If you know me at all, you know I pride myself on being able to do without, but there is a certain level of chaos associated with the lifestyle here that I just can't quite manage. Chaos, and a different sense of personal space and privacy. I like to be able to feel like I can have some control over my little corner of the world, and here I just can't quite get that. Still, I have nothing to complain about. I was thinking that last night with the rain beating down on the tin roof, and just imagining what it would be like to be crouched under a plastic tarp held up by wooden poles with mud running under foot.
Anyhow, it's not sleeping on the floor, or taking bucket showers that is the problem. In fact sometimes I sleep on the floor just because it's comfortable. Its more about the disorder of everyday living. This is a bit hard to explain and is better experienced. Maybe I'll elaborate in later posts. Sorry, still no way to upload pictures. Maybe this weekend.