More pictures of little trees struggling for survival.  One of my favourite things I guess.  

A farmer plot fenced off to protect seedlings. You can see trees growing in the fenceline and hopefully the little blobs of green inside the plot which are trees too.

Same plot up close. Not sure if you can see but there are dozens of trees here, about 1.5 to 2  metres tall. This plot is probably about 18 months old.

Another plot about 5 years old. For those who know this is the Pere Albert Memorial plot.  You can see outside the fence there is not many trees at all, and one of the culprits lurking for more food.

A tiny leucaena which has seeded naturally from the larger trees in the above picture. In a couple of years this little tree and a half a dozen others I saw scattered around will start to fill in the space in the bottom part of the plot in the picture above. Here's to you Pere Albert, where ever you are.

It was so hot in my room last night I decided to grab one of the earthquake tents  and sleep outside on the porch. This morning when I woke up, I got up and went to grab the stuff sack to start taking down the tent and this huge tarantula jumped out of the stuff sack and onto my hand. I jumped too and yelled. So lesson learned, keep the stuff sack inside the tent.

At 4:40 pm someone from the community told me with absolutely no trace of irony that there was a soccer match between two local teams starting at 4pm and if I was interested I could watch since it would be starting soon.

This just cracks me up since starting at 4 means anytime but 4.

Haiti earthquake consequences

Ever wondered what has happened in Haiti since the earthquake? Heard the news reports about how there's been no progress? Here's a couple of photos of a hillside where we did tree planting in the aftermath, between April and Oct 2010. In the first photo, you'll see there are a bunch of contour canals still in place, and the little green patches in the mid foreground are all trees. I skidded down the hill--about a 45 degree slope to give you a closer view of some of those green patches now 1 to 1.5 metres tall.

I'm not trying to say that Haiti is suddenly going to be reforested. Those little trees have a long way to go...

Made it. Even landed about 10 minutes early. So no ill consequences of Hurricane Irene here. Apparently there was some flooding damage in the north of the country, but for the most part Haiti was lucky this time around. I was worried because when we did our evaluations in 2008, Haiti had just been hit by 4 hurricanes in a row, over about a one month period. So I was afraid we might have the same thing happen again.

"On the road again, I just can't..."
Wait? I could wait really. However, duty calls or something. Flying just as hurricane Irene hits the east coast is probably not my greatest idea ever, but the airline seems to think it is ok, so here we go.

On a completely unrelated note, yesterday an important Canadian political figure, Jack Layton, leader of one of our parties here, the NDP was laid to rest and his life celebrated in a huge ceremony in Toronto. I learned that one of his favourite songs was "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen, and it was performed at the funeral. It's a beautiful song, and one of my favourites too, but it got me thinking about what songs I might want performed when that inevitable day comes. Morbid maybe, but for the record here's a list of possibles:

When I survey the wondrous cross, Isaac Watts

There is a redeemer, Keith Green

Be still my soul, Jean Sibelius

Redemption songs, Bob Marley

We shall be free, Garth Brooks

Not to put too fine a point on it, but here are the ticket stubs from my recent trip, plus one receipt for a shower in the Narita airport!

Home at last, thank God I'm home at last. So the journey home began in Tanzania 2 days ago and ended in Canada this evening. I was figuring on the plane--lots of time to do so--that I spent about 55 hours travelling, either flying or in airports, and about 70 hours from the time I got up on the first travel day until my head hits the pillow after this blog post. This I believe is my personal record for longest single travel 'day'. Made longer of course by the fact that the return journey retraced steps back through Thailand instead of going through Europe--which would be shorter, but ironically not cheaper (I do not understand airfares).

There's things about Japanese culture that fascinate me. Like the ultra-politness: bowing, handing things to people with two hands. I feel like one of the only things that remains with me after three generations is the not wearing shoes indoors. I don't like that at all, even in someone's house where they do wear their shoes.

The sad thing is I know so little really about the countries of my ancestral origin. And speak more of other languages and no Japanese, German or Gaelic. So I'm thinking maybe I might plan my next vacation trip with the ancestral origin theme. Start in Scotland, go to Germany, then Japan. I guess that would be 3 week trip at least.

The final airport of the journey. Had a 14 dollar shower. Here's a photo which should be more than obvious as to where I am.

In another airport and no way to upload a photo, sorry. The Africa trip is done, and I'm on the 2 day journey home to Canada. After a couple more days I'll be heading off to Haiti. As I think I may have mentioned it is a hectic schedule and I can feel it wearing me down. I need a vacation. And I know, I just had a vacation a couple weeks ago, but somehow I'm still tired.
Anyhow, yesterday, I found myself quite by accident (I think) in an informal discussion with a couple of staff who work for a local institution in Tanzania--which will remain nameless, although I will clarify that it is not the organization I work for. I was surprised at how candid these folks were about corruption and political problems within and without. It made me feel good in a way partly because it made me feel like part of the 'inner-circle', and partly because it was just good to hear folks talk frankly about problems in their own country. I don't know if that makes any sense to you.

This photo was taken about 20 minutes ago and should give you a pretty good idea of where I am. Other hints include that I am using my laptop perched on the edge of the balcony of my room because it seems like a good spot to get internet connection, and someone on the road just called me 'Baba'. Which is a first for me by the way and a bit depressing.

So I thought I might try making you guess where I am, in this case, based on a lousy photo snapped in a hurry. Still there should be plenty of clues to get this one. The most precise guess gets a free drink on me.

The main reason for this visit to Thailand was for a training course in participatory methodologies. These are techniques that allow communities and organizations to engage in meaningful discussion and at the same time catalyze the process of change (hopefully for the better!)

The course lasted 2 days, the first in the classroom and the second in the field doing a practical exercise. These photos are of community members where one student group went to apply what they learned. The students of course cannot be seen since they were in the background facilitating the exercise.

Community members drawing a map of their village

Community members explaining the map the the student facilitators and the instructor (me!)

So a little good news story for you: One of the villages that we partner with here in Thailand has qualified for a government pilot project for community forestry management. If you're patient with me I can try to explain as briefly as possible why this is good news at least to me. About 5 years, ago, we started working here (through our local partner organization, UHDP, Upland Holistic Development Project, www.uhdp.org) on assisting rural communities to develop forestry management plans. This was necessary because the government was establishing new national parks, and the park boundaries overlapped with the villages where people were already living. Like in many places around the world, this is controversial, because on one hand the park is protecting valuable nature and biodiversity, but on the other hand it threatens the livelihoods of people living in and around the park. Opinions vary on how to handle such a tricky situation, but we set out, with UHDP, and the communities to develop maps using GPS, and management plans that would demonstrate how communities could responsibly care for forest area, and sustainably exist within park boundaries. Did I mention that this started 5 years ago? It was a long and convoluted process involving many changes and uncertainties in forestry law, all the while training and encouraging communities to draft their own forest management plans. Finally this year, one of those communities was approved along with 18 others in the region to be part of the government pilot plan. There is still a lot of uncertainty ahead, but there have already been positive consequences, since we have seen an increase in tree planting and the establishment of agroforestry plots in the area. This positive change seems to be a result of the increased confidence farmers have about their land which gives them the freedom to make the long term investment in planting trees. Good news, and it feels good to have played even a small part in helping this community to get to this point. Who knew that the way to get more trees planted would have to do with teaching farmers how to use a GPS?

An agroforestry plot in Thailand, mixed trees and agriculture, mimicking a natural forest

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...