Saturday, December 27, 2008

Wreckognize this?

Perhaps you've seen this painting in photos (it hangs in the Louvre), but do you know the story behind it? "The Raft of the Medusa," by Theodore Gericault, depicts an historical event, one of the tragedies of Franco-Senegalese colonial history.

In July of 1816, the Medusa, a French frigate, was en route to the capital of French West Africa, St. Louis (san-loo-EE). It carried over 400 people, including the crew. Among its passengers were the new colonial governor and his family.

The captain, who had been granted his position as a political reward, hadn't sailed in 20 years, and was profoundly incompetent. He ran the ship aground on a sandbar some 60 miles off the coast of West Africa, where it broke up.

Lacking sufficient lifeboats, 146 travellers were forced to flee on a makeshift raft tethered to the lifeboats. This arrangement proved ungainly, and the lifeboat's passengers cut the raft loose, abandoning it to the elements.

Thirteen days later, the raft was discovered with only 15 passengers, the rest having died of deyhydration (they had only wine to drink), starvation (despite resorting to cannibalism), or literally raving madness.

The political ramfications of the event were also severe, greatly embarrassing France's post-Napoleonic, newly restored monarchy.

Gericault thoroughly researched his subject, reading first-hand accounts of the tragedy, and even interviewing some of the survivors, one of whom he portrayed in the painting. Begun in 1818, just two years after the incident, and completed in 1819, when the artist was only 28 years old, the painting is considered a seminal work of the Romantic era and perhaps Gericault's masterpiece (he died of tuberculosis just three years later).

The tale is as interesting as it is horrific. It's all the more interesting to me given its geographic and historical connection to my current home. Two recent books on the topic are readily available if you want to pursue the story in more detail.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

words from The Word about THE WORD

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:
"The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son,
and they will call him Immanuel"—
which means, "God with us."
from the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 1

*******
God sent the angel Gabriel to a virgin named Mary. The angel went to her and said,
You will be with child and give birth to a son. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. His kingdom will never end.
Mary, gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

selections from the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 2

*******
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.

Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

selections from the Gospel of John, Chapter 1

*******

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Putting the Horse Before the Cart

I won't trouble with daily updates on the construction, but I just got a good shot (admittedly blurry--I took it through my window screen) of something I wanted to show earlier.

Around here, when we refer to a workhorse, we mean it literally. This horse has been on campus for several days, carting sand across the soccer field to the site where it is used to make cinder-blocks. Here he is leaving to get another load of sand.

Horse carts like this are common in Dakar, sharing the roads with the thousands of cars and trucks, though usually, they stay off of the divided highways.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Saharacide

For years I have been puzzled by the enormous number of discoveries of the remnants of older civilizations deep underground. How did they get buried?

Pompei I can understand. But most of the buried cities are far from volcanic activity. If there were only one or two non-volcanic cases, it would be a curiosity with several plausible theories. But city after city after city?

After living in Dakar for nearly six years, I begin, perhaps, to understand. Every year from December through June, harmattan [HAHR-mah-tahn] winds carry vast quantities of sandy dust from the Sahara, across West Africa, and out into the Atlantic (see photo--Dakar is the tiny, hooked peninsula near the bottom). Some days it's as thick as fog. At night, you can see it drift past the street lights.

At Dakar Academy, the maintenance staff frequently have to sweep the dust and sand off of our sidewalks, steps, and basketball court to keep them from being buried. But could this account for all of it? How high did the world's mountains used to be if cities are hidden beneath cities beneath cities beneath meters of sand? It baffles me.

(Satellite photo in public domain, from http://www.nasa.gov)

What a Difference a Day Makes



OK, it’s been more than a day. But not much more than a week since I first posted the first picture, above. I took the second one yesterday.

Why the difference? Because, about a week ago, work began on an addition to our on-campus dormitory. (In my 5-1/2 years here, every year has included a major change on campus.) You can see where the old staircase has been torn down, where sand is being dug out to make way for the foundation, and where a temporary worker’s shack has been built off to the left.

The end product is to be three stories tall, with the bottom floor left open for now, and the dorm parent apartment and students’ rooms on the top two, enclosed floors. After we’ve saved money for a few years by not renting as much dorm space off campus, we may enclose the bottom floor for a staff apartment.

This is how the work is being done.



No backhoes, earth-movers or other heavy equipment is anywhere to be seen. Everything is by manual labor. To bend re-bar, they use a simple contraption in which the stump of one of the trees dug up last week is used as the counterweight.

As the building goes up, perhaps I’ll be able to take video of teams of men shoveling wet cement, in unison, up to the next floor while singing a work song to keep the rhythm going. Does that sound like another century? No, just a part of the world where relatively few manual labor jobs have been surrendered to technology, unemployment is high, and labor is cheap.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Films Worth Seeing--or Seeing Again








Don't miss the new reviews of three old films, Searching for Bobby Fischer, Spanglish, and The Truman Show, just posted in the column to the right!

Blues in the (African) Night

A Welsh friend and I attended an open-air, blues concert in downtown Dakar last night. Now, blues is not my favorite type of music. I prefer bluegrass; or "classical" music in many of it's varieties--renaissance, baroque, classical, etc. Or folk and “world” music (klezmer; mariachi, etc.); or hymns, especially early American shape-note hymnody, and contemporary “re-hymns” (old hymn texts set to new tunes); or jazz, especially bebop, Dixieland, and swing; or Western swing, ragtime, reggae, stride piano, zydeco, or even Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Nevertheless, seeking a little bit of home at a cost less than round trip airfare, I took in a concert by the Chicago Blues Quintet. As it turns out, sixty percent of the Chicago Blues Quintet is not from Chicago, but from France. The Americans, Maurice John Vaughn and B. J. Emory, have been performing together in Chicago for nearly 20 years. On their European tours, they team up with a band led by Frederic Brousse, and brought them with them to Senegal for this, their first-ever African gig.

Vaughn is the musical and personality leader of the group, the happiest blues singer you ever did see, with an unexpectedly light, even zany stage presence. A roly-poly, joking, fella-next-door suburban family man, he is also a world class blues guitarist (we didn’t get to hear enough of it), and a more than serviceable backup blues keyboardist. I can’t comment on his ability on sax, as he inexplicably never played it. He’s had a successful career as a concert and recording side-man, but has also made a mark as a soloist. According to one bio I’ve read online, Guitar World magazine called his debut solo CD, humorously titled Generic Blues Album (Alligator/AL 4763), blues album of the year.

Emory is a gutsy vocalist and a bland trombonist, both skills benefiting from great tone, pitch and presence, and both suffering from lack of melodic and improvisational interest.

For me, the musical revelation of the evening came from Fred Brousse, the leader of the act’s talented French contingent. Though an above average lead guitarist, and a decent singer, Brousse deserves worldwide fame as a harmonica player. Seriously. Brousse’s performance-opening, 5-minute, unaccompanied solo was no less than extraordinary, and was alone worth the price of admission. It was Ella Fitzgerald, Chicago, Ravel, a train, James Brown, and Billie Holliday all wrapped into one. I’ve heard excellent harmonica before, but I have never heard harmonica with such nuance, variety, depth, guts, emotion, and virtuosity. In fact, I never could have imagined it was capable of such nuance, variety, depth, guts, emotion, and virtuosity.

An enjoyable evening overall, a welcome and, at $6, affordable taste of home, clearly appreciated by the initially staid French crowd, and receiving rave reviews from my Welsh friend, for whom it was anything but a taste of home. I'd like to hear more Vaughn, especially his stellar guitar work, though I'd recommend he steer clear of doo-wop in the future.

But I would go well out of my way, and gladly pay more, to hear Fred Brousse on the harmonica again, with or without other performers.

The Sound and the Fury

Senegal has no noise ordinances. Anyone can broadcast music or speech--or other sounds, for that matter--anywhere, at any volume, at any time. As I write this, my clock has just silently reached the 2:00 A.M. mark, and piercing the darkness is music so loud that, though it is coming from a high school stadium a few blocks away, sounds (and feels) like it's coming from the apartment next door. This is the third straight day (and night) of virtually uninterrupted music and shouting and what I take to be preaching to youth.

Other common sources of air-saturating sounds are (a) calls to prayer, broadcast from speakers in mosque towers, (b) garbage trucks driving through neighborhoods during the day, honking their horns loudly and repeatedly for 5-10 seconds at a blast (c) youth organization parties, which, like the current stadium event, include singing and dancing into the early morning hours, and (d) all-night religious gatherings, with preaching, chanting, and singing--some of which is quite beautiful, and some of which does not please the western ear.

OK, I guess I should admit that our students are sometimes culprits. During student-run carnivals and afternoon (and late-night) sports tournaments, our kids join in the freedom, and play CDs at bone-vibrating volumes.

Oh, one more example, for which I suppose I can share partial blame, since I paid for it. I attended Chicago Blues Quintet concert tonight. It was held in an open-air amphitheater in the heart of downtown Dakar. From 9:00 to 11:00 P.M., the neighborhood and beyond were treated to keyboard, drums, trombone, bass guitar, rhythm guitar, harmonica, and gutsy voices, all generously amplified. I wonder if it was worth paying for admission. I could have sat on a nearby street corner for free and heard just as much music. (More on the concert in an upcoming post.)

There's something to having the freedom to make noise or, more often, music at any time. But it sure can be hard to get to sleep! Speaking of which, good night.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Letting it All Hang Out

One of the small things that surprised me when I moved to Senegal was the ubiquitous presence of laundry drying outside--hanging out of windows, lying on bushes,

stretched across clothes lines. Very few people, even in the city, own electric or gas dryers. Rain is so infrequent as to be inconsequential. (Dust is more of a problem in the dry season than rain in the rainy season.)

I was struck recently by the rainbow of colors hanging on a line outside my bedroom window. I took this photo through the screen, so it lacks the brilliance of the actual sight. Still, I like the image. There is nothing on the other two lines that stretch parallel to this one, making this an uncharacteristically artistic arrangement.

This view out this window began to change this week. Soon I will be posting photos of the construction work that has begun. An extension is going to be built on this end of the on-campus dormitory (the building in the upper right corner).

Tightening Our Chaaya Genyo

Friends of mine who live in rural Senegal sent me an email last week that provides an excellent glimpse of some of the major contrasts between life for the average Senegalese and the average American. With their permission, I am printing excerpts from it below. I have removed all identifying information to protect them and those they minister to from reprisals.

"We've watched from a distance as financial markets convulsed this fall. These headline events haven’t raised a single question or comment from our village friends who’ve never heard of Wall Street or a mutual fund.

"Villagers don’t even have bank accounts in this cash economy. They don’t speak or read French so bank documents are unintelligible to them. Plus, banks charge so many fees that small accounts are not feasible financially.

"A different economy operates here. “Savings accounts” are the sheep and goats owned by every family. An emergency medical bill or a need to visit to a distant sick relative may prompt the sale of one or more male goats.

"Females are prized for increasing the size of the herd. The availability of grass and hay causes fluctuations in value with selling prices lowest during the rainy season when free grass is abundant. Prices are highest near the end of the dry season when all the grass has been eaten and the hay supply is at a minimum.

"The highest prices for large male sheep are just before Tabaski when each family deems it almost obligatory to kill and eat a sheep during the holiday that commemorates Abraham’s offering of Ishmael—according to the Koran. Tabaski takes place this year the second week of December so the supply of sheep in towns is growing daily.

"We are aware that the current economic challenges are affecting many of you...We also are tightening our chaaya genyo (pants tie-strings, as in our sweat pants)."

Thursday, December 11, 2008

21st Century Christmas Carols

In case you haven't heard of them before, here are a few Christmas Carols, chosen or updated for singers with particular diagnoses:

Schizophrenia
Do You Hear What I Hear?

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells...

Narcissism
Hark, the Herald Angels Sing About Me!

Manic Disorder
Deck the halls and walls and house and lawn and streets and stores and offices and town and cars and busses and trucks and trees and fire hydrants and...

Paranoia
Santa Claus is Coming to Get Me

Mulitple Personality Disorder
We Three Kings Disoriented Are

May you have happier songs to sing!

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Tabaski

For the last half hour or so, songs and chants have been wafting into my apartment from all sides, broadcast from minarets around the city. It is one of the Islamic required hours of prayer, and today is the most important day on the Muslim calendar. Even as I write, goats are being sacrificed around the city and around the country to atone for sin. It's a national holiday.

Eid al-Adha, or Tabaski, as it is known here, is a commemoration of Abraham's near-sacrifice of his own son, at God's commaned--stopped at the last moment by an angel who told Abraham to sacrifice a goat that was caught in a nearby patch of thorns instead.

In the days leading up to the holiday here in Dakar, thousands and thousands of goats appear at impromptu roadside markets, like so many Christmas tree stands in the US. (I saw fewer of them this year, apparently due to a tightening in the enforcement of laws governing such things.)

For the rest of the day, families will celebrate, with relatives visiting relatives, friends visiting friends, adults giving gifts to children, children playing games, and everyone dressing in their finest new clothes to eat elaborate holiday meals, and many families spending beyond their means.

Sound familiar? I wonder if every culture has a day celebrated in this manner.

Monday, December 1, 2008

East Side, West Side

All Around the Town
or

And Never the Twain Shall Meet

Despite living in Dakar for over 5 years, I have a hard time remembering that the US is to the West of me. I finally figured out why. It's because, growing up on the East coast of the US, the Atlantic Ocean has for me always been the equivalent of East. When I looked out over the Atlantic, I was always looking East. Since I have no magnetic needle in my brain telling me which way is East, when I look out over the Atlantic Ocean now, I automatically imagine I'm looking East. I have to actively work to correct this mental perspective.

In other cultural news, did you know that the French don't capitalize North, South, East, or West? Or French, American, Korean, etc. That is apropos of nothing, but it gave me an excuse to write this sentence using a word we stole from French.

Sparky has a Sibling

As I touch-type, I am watching one of the newest members of my household explore my bedroom. I hope he's foraging for food, because there are certainly enough bugs here to keep him happy and healthy and for a long time.

This little guy, who I'm naming Squiggle because of the amusing way his body twists when he walks, is presumably Sparky's baby brother. At two inches head to tail, and about the width of a pencil, he's the same size Sparky was when I wrote about him (see my October 25 post), but Sparky should be much bigger by now. I've also seen an even smaller sibling several times in the past few days. I haven't named that one, who is perhaps only an inch and a quarter long, and half a pencil-width across. I'm accepting suggestions.

Since I grew up on the East Coast (of the US), having lizards living with me is a bit of a lark.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

To Paris and Back in an Hour

I took a brief trip to Paris to go shopping this afternoon. It only took an hour. That's pretty amazing, because usually it's a 5-hour flight each way, plus the time on the ground!

OK, I didn't really go to Paris, but I might as well have. Some friends introduced me to a new, enclosed mini-mall that is a slightly smaller version of one I shopped at in France when I went there for language training in 2006. Several glass-fronted, upscale boutiques line one side of a tiled promenade. Across from the boutiques, with no wall or windows to separate it from the mall, is a huge, sparklingly clean grocery store filled with imported items (mostly from France, some from the Mideast, and a few from the US), and lighted up brighter than a Hollywood premier.

It was actually a little disorienting, walking aisles laid out exactly as they were at that store in France, overflowing with neatly stacked rows of brightly colored packages containing virtually every item a large American grocery/drug store would have, and even some other customers speaking (heavily accented) English. I had to keep telling myself I was in Dakar, not Paris.

This is just one more sign of the sea-change taking place here. Last spring, a new, modern, air-conditioned(!) Departures Terminal opened at the airport. This fall, an efficient highway system leading into and around the city was completed. Under construction now is a series of hotels and parks, and a large Visitors Center with a fabulous ocean view, along a 2-mile stretch of shoreline on the peninsula's western coast.

Next thing you know, the power and water will work consistently! Well, that still appears to be wishful thinking. "But," as the old song goes, "I Can Dream, Can't I?"

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Green Red Cards

To "get" this post, read the first couple of paragraphs of my previous post first.
I've been using Red Cards with my students for several months now. A few days ago, while teaching my Kindergarteners, I happened to pull out the stack of identical cards in other colors, to use in a game. When the kids saw them, their reaction was immediate: "Look, he has green red cards." "There's a blue red card!" "Cool, there's a black red card."

***

This seems to me to illustrate something about human nature. Once we have a particular perspective, we look at other things with the same perspective, even if they are quite different. For example I find that I perceive peers I've known for years quite differently from peers I've met recently. The middle-aged friends I've known for 20 or 30 years almost all look younger to me than newer friends of the same age. I see the old friends through a mental filter of what they were like when we were young. And not just their physical appearance, but their personalities and characters, too.

I went to my 30th high school reunion a few years ago. While in town, I dropped by a local grocery store, and passed a number of older adults in the aisles as I shopped. Suddenly, I realized these weren't older adults, they were my peers. I might see any one of them at the reunion the next day. I'd never adjusted my perception of middle-aged people as "older" than I--as my parents' peers, not mine--to the reality that I was now middle-aged.

But some experiences show this tendency to perceive the new through an old filter, as sometimes a good thing, even as accurate. If I know someone well, and know him to be honest, kind, and trustworthy, I will perceive an isolated episode of rudeness or failure as an anomaly, not as an indication of a change in their character. It's like saying "Look, a rude good person." If, on the other hand, I know someone as a rude, crude jerk, I see even good behavior through that lens--perhaps doubting the reality or sincerity of the new behavior. "Look, there's a kind and thoughtful jerk." Of course, we all know examples of children who get blamed for something they didn't do because so often they have been the one at fault.

How many green red cards are in your life?

Red Cards and Baby Harmonicas

RED CARDS: I've finally hit on a simple, effective discipline system for my elementary music classes. It came to me in a flash at the beginning of a 2nd grade session last year. They were a bright group, but considerably lacking in self control.

One day, I had pulled out a stack of square, laminated cards that I'd made from construction paper in different colors, for use in various games. That day, I picked the red cards out of the pack and handed one to any student who misbehaved. I explained that they were like penalty flags in sports--you get one when you've done something you shouldn't have, and there is a punishment that goes with it.

Now I use Red Cards with all my elementary classes. When the teachers pick up their children, they check to see if any of their students received a red card (or more than one) and incorporate that as a negative "mark" in whatever discipline system they use (5 minutes off recess for each mark, or whatever).

This has revolutionized discipline in my classes. I don't have to run back to the board to put a student's name up. I don't have to remember the offense until the end of class. I just keep a card or two in my shirt pocket, and hand it to the student immediately after the infraction.

BABY HARMONICAS. For a couple of years, I've been using a desk bell to get my students' attentions whenever they get too noisy, or when I need to interrupt what they're doing to give new instructions. This has worked well--it's a penetrating but attractive sound--but it has a major drawback. The bell is never where I am when I need it. If I'm playing the piano, it's on my desk. If I've moved it to the piano, I'm writing on the board. I always have to search for it, and then go get it.

I mused for weeks on how to solve the problem. "I need an instrument I can carry with me at all times," I thought one day. But what? The answer? A harmonica!

Last summer, I bought a one-inch harmonica (really!), just to see if I could learn how to play. (It's not a toy, it's an honest-to-goodness Hoehner harmonica.) For only $10, it was a low-risk investment.

A few weeks ago, I took it to school to show to my students. To keep from losing it, I put it on a lanyard around my neck. In the middle of a class, realizing my bell was on the other side of the room, it came to me. I can use the harmonica! Now I wear it every day, and give it a little toot whenever I need the students' attentions. Once I learn to play better, maybe I can have different signals for different circumstances, like Baron Von Trapp in The Sound of Music...

Red cards and baby harmonicas--they only took 5 years to come up with. And that's just more evidence that a professor's caution was on the mark: don't judge yourself as a teacher until you've been teaching at least 5 years.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Power Plays

Power outages are a common topic around here, because they are such a common--and frustrating--occurrence, especially between July and November.

Outages are unannounced, so there's no way to plan work or other needs around them. As a result, they (along with constant, damaging power fluctuations) wreak havoc on work, food (going bad in non-operating fridges and freezers), sleep on still, sultry nights, applicances, and much more.

Frustration has boiled over into demonstrations (read: riots) in Dakar over the past couple of weeks. One crowd piled a bunch of ruined appliances in the street and set them on fire. Others destroyed Senelec business offices in a couple of quatiers (neighborhoods), smashing windows, computers, desks, etc.

In response, Senelec has switched from cutting the power once or twice a day for 4 hours or more (11 hours on one day a few weeks ago) to cutting it 4 or 5 times a day for an hour or two each.

I'm thinking of writing a letter to the editor of some Dakar newspaper asking why Senegal does this to it's own people. It's bad enough having outages, but not letting the public know when they will be so that individuals and businesses can plan around them is, in my mind, inexplicable.

It's hard not to get frustrated. It's hard not to complain. (I probably write about it too often in this blog and in emails.)

The good news is, we've had no outages on campus for the past 3 days, giving hope that the break in the heat has decreased usage to such an extent that the demand can be met.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Other West African Reptiles

Geckos are just one of the many desert crawlers in Senegal. Lizards are common, often sunning themselves on the sides of buildings, or scampering out of your way on the sidewalk. Most are non-descript grays and browns, but at least one species is striking in it’s coloration: it has a school bus yellow head, steel blue body, and a gray and yellow tail. To see a good photo, copy this link into your browser:

http://www.pbase.com/rvbulck/image/34224169

Once while birdwatching, I came across what appeared to me to be a salamander, small and quick with soft-scaled green skin on the back, with a white underside. There were two: one had nearly fluorescent orange sides. The other—its mate?—had white sides.

Our students’ favorite species (probably because they can catch them), is chameleons. These are quite different from the lizard-like color-changers that frequented my grandmother’s yard in Alabama during our summer visits decades ago. I would be hard pressed to accurately describe the Senegalese versions, except to mention that their tails can curl tightly up over their backs, or around a small tree branch for stability, that they have three-toes on their feet, and that they change colors from green to brown.

Finally, there are a few snakes, but they are not common. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a wild snake here. The school has a 6-foot boa named Spot, but he’s an émigré. He was donated to the school by his former owner, a woman who brought him to Senegal when she was evacuated to Dakar during the Ivory Coast’s civil war a few years ago. She snuck him in by hiding him under her sweater and pretending she was pregnant! Yes, really!

Oops. Almost left out crocodiles and monitor lizards, both of which I've seen in zoo-like parks and in the wild.

This ends part two of your ____________* lesson for today.

*Does anyone know the scientific Latin term goes in that blank?

Gary the Gecko

No, I’m not selling car insurance. I have an actual pet gecko. Well, saying it that way implies a closer relationship than we really have. Gary hides under a shelf or behind the microwave whenever I enter the same room.

Geckos here are translucent brown or tan when they are very young, and have non-descript, rather light camouflage pigmentation when grown. The first time I saw Gary he was a juvenile--starting to turn opaque, but still a pasty monochrome that housepaint marketers would no doubt call something like “Mexican Adobe” or “Cream of Wheat,” though I think “Gary Gecko Tan” would be a more interesting name to see on a paint can).

I’m happy to have this little house guest, as he eats . . . well, I don’t know what he eats—flies? mosquitoes? ants?--but he’s welcome to them all, and so are his future progeny.

Speaking of progeny… fast forward two months.

I first drafted this post back in September. Recently, I realized that I have not only one pet Gecko, but three. My newest friend is Sparky, a cute little fellow about 2 inches long, counting his tail. And, of course, if there’s a papa gecko, and a baby gecko, there must be a momma gecko. So, some of those sightings of Gary may actually have been sightings of Gilda. (In case you wonder how to tell the difference between a Gary and a Gilda, I don’t know. For that matter, Sparky might actually be Suzy.)

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

What's Nike Missing?

A. Brains
B. Honesty
C. Common sense
D. All of the above
Answer: D. All of the above.

Some of you are old enough to remember the old ABC sports programs, whose opening shots always included Jim McKay's famous voice-over, "The thrill of victory . . . the agony of defeat." According to the San Francisco Chronicle, Arien O'Connell of New York City experienced both the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat last Sunday . . . in the same event!

Arien was the fastest runner in Sunday's Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco, but wasn't awarded the first place trophy. Nor second place. Nor even third. Why? Because she hadn't registered as an "elite" runner to get a 20-minute early starting time in a less crowded field.

So Arien, a fifth-grade teacher by day, watched as the trophies were handed out to three women who ran 11 minutes slower than she did.

When the judges and sponsors recognized the inconsistency, they . . . did nothing.

Reports the Chronicle:
"At this point," Nike media relations manager Tanya Lopez said Monday, "we've declared our winner."

Maybe the next time Tanya buys something, the clerk should give her the wrong change. When she asks about it, the clerk can just say, "At this point, we've given our change."

By the way, just a week before the San Francisco debacle, the fourth-place runner in the Chicago Marathon didn't get the fourth place prize either. Wesley Korir didn't run with the "elite group" in that race, so he too was ineligible for a prize, even though he outran the fourth-place "winner."
It's a strange sport that requires you to announce in advance that you might win in order for you to be acknowledged as the winner when you do, in fact, win.

Nike, hang your head in shame.

And change your name.

You don't deserve to call yourself by the Greek word for "victory" when you don't acknowledge the true victors in your own sporting events.

To read the San Francisco Chronicle article, click the following link.
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/10/21/BAUC13L3GQ.DTL&nopu=1

Thursday, October 2, 2008

What's China Got that We Ain't Got?

I know, the Beijing Olympics were impressive. But the bar has been raised. Take a look at these shots from DA's own Olympics. (I tried to post this much closer to the so-called "real" Olympics, but had trouble with photos.)

We have real bird's nests in our trees!

And form not to be matched anywhere...
Geometry in motion!

We even have cool Red Team outfits.


So, don't wait around for 2012. Visit Dakar--we have Olympics every year! (Full disclosure: the above photos are actually from DA's 2007 Olympics. This year's sports extravaganza is still to come.)

On the Rocks

Today I'll treat you to several shots from my (long-ago) visit to Isle des Madeleine, commonly known as Snake Island (though there are no snakes—this name is probably a distortion of a mistranslation of an African word). Madeleine is a tiny island about 20 minutes by motorized pirogue off the western shore of the southern tip of the peninsula that is Dakar.

The next photo is a view of the Pancake Islands. At least, that’s what I call them. They’re actually flat rocks, perhaps 10 yards in diameter, in a small bay next to one of Snake Island’s beaches. (If I’d moved my camera even a smidgen to the left, you would have seen the beginning of the narrow shore whose cliffs lead up to where I was standing.)



I’ve been to Snake Island only once. The real treat for me was seeing and photographing Red-Billed Tropic Birds--beautiful white birds with two, very long tail feathers--in their rock nests. The island is said to be one of the only two places in the world that they breed.
In the air...
...and "on the rocks"



For some additional, nice views of the island, check out the following blog that I discovered recently, put together by a couple (who I do not know) upon visiting Senegal a few years back.

www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/Laura%20JohnInAfrica/page-2.html

Up a creek without a net...

Portions of Dakar have been without Internet access for the past one to two weeks. What a disruption! Between that and power outages, September was a hard month! Our campus connection is back up, so I finally get to post the blog entries I was working on before it went bad. Hope you enjoy them.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Speaking of Watergate

In my "Vote Early, Vote Often" post, below, I mentioned attending the Watergate hearings. I was in high school, and my government class was scheduled to take a field trip to downtown Washington, D.C. I forget what we were going to see, but I asked permission to attend the Watergate hearings instead.

Two friends from outside the class joined me, and we waited in line together for hours. Dick Cavett, the intellectual and witty late night talk show host of the era (and the Tonight Show's first real competitor), walked by at one point. So did other celebrities I've since forgotten. Apparently a Time magazine photographer stopped by, too, because in the next issue, an article on the hearings sported a photo showing me and my two buddies sitting on the floor around the perimeter of a circular entryway to the Capitol building. (I saved a copy of that issue for a long time, but lost track of it some years ago.)

We had been warned that the hearings would probably be boring, and the warnings were apt. The proceedings that we witnessed were quite tedious and mundane. We didn't stay very long--30 minutes, perhaps. It had actually been more interesting waiting in line. Pitty the poor legislators who had to sit through the whole thing for months on end!

Even so, I have never regretted taking the opportunity to see history in the making, despite not seeing any of the celebrated portions live and in person.

The Audacity of Politicians

I received the following comments in email from a friend today. They make a good follow-up to my last post.

I've kept somewhat of an eye on the political season but I'm not fully engaged nor do I expect to be. My confidence in the political system is at a low ebb. I've come to the conclusion that the major parties are not driven by aspirations to benefit the country or the population at large. Rather, they are to benefit the special interests that leverage them into power. The system is readily manipulated by corruption and misdirection with power players on all sides gaming the system for their own benefit. There's lots of Orwellian liberty taken with the speeches -- less is more, war is peace, etc.

As much as the Republicans tout that they are the party of fiscal conservatism, the national debt soars when they are in office and we have little to evidence any beneficial investment of the money spent that created the debt. Democrats aren't any better. They pander to folks saying that government will solve their problems.

Both parties kick the serious issues into the future rather than deal with them in a rational planning manner now (social security, health care, etc). If one side starts to gain momentum on solutions, the other side yanks the rug from underneath so as to undermine any credit to other side.

I can't recall who said it but I like the motto "that government governs best which governs least". Fat chance. We haven't shrunk government since George Washington was president.

Enough.

Pretty glum, but accurate, I think. Interestingly, Obama makes exactly the same argument in his book The Audacity of Hope. Whether he can do anything about it (or truly wants to) remains to be seen. If there's going to be change, it has to start somewhere, but I see no evidence that any of our four presidential or vice presidential candidates are starting.

Vote Early, Vote Often

I'm paying more attention to this year's Presidential campaign than I ever have previous ones. I always follow the basics, but little more. This year, I decided to read books by the two presidential nominees (I bought two by each when I was in the States over the summer). I've also watched some of the key speeches and interviews on the Internet.

I found Obama's VP pick interesting--I remember Joe Biden for his sharp questioning of witnesses at the Watergate hearings (one of which which I actually attended) back in the '70s. I was stunned and fascinated by McCain's pick of Sarah Palin. At first I thought he had lost his mind (literally). Now I recognize its political brilliance. Whether it will succeed or not is anyone's guess at this point. Two historic candidates--the first black nominee political, and perhaps social, backlash. Not so with Palin, because she's not part of an activist movement that expects to win and feels slighted when they don't.

I am still undecided, but I have to make up my mind soon. My absentee ballot should arrive any day now. A friend and colleague from Chicago has already received his! (So, he actually does get to vote early--though, I presume, not often--as the old Chicago quip went.)

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Grounded!

Last night was hot, so I got out of bed and plugged in an extra fan I had bought used from friends. It was an American fan, so it needed a plug adaptor to fit into the European-style recepticals here. It roared on. I couldn't find a switch to change the speed. A few seconds later there was a pop, the fan stopped abruptly, and my bedroom instantly filled with the aroma of burning oil and rubber.

Alas, I had momentarily forgotten that a plug adaptor is not the only thing you need to run an American electrical appliance here. You also need a power transformer to dial down the 220 volts that is the European standard, to 110, the American standard.

Despite opening my windows and turning on two other fans, the room continued to smell so bad I had to sleep in the living room.

********

I am less than educated about electrical principles. The only electrical tutorial I've been able to handle is the highly entertaining and nearly farcical There Are No Electrons: Electronics for Earthlings, by Kenn Amdahl. It's one step below Electricity for Dummies (if there is such a book).

Amdahl admits that no-one understands electricity, though a lot of people understand a lot about how it behaves. He finally undestood the principles after a dream he had one night, in which a large green man appeared to him and explained the true nature of electricity: there are no electrons, there are only Greenies, like him, trying to get to the next groovy party on the electrical line. The book is a hoot, and it effectively explains electrical concepts sans electrical jargon, introducing scientific terminology ("this is what other people call an 'amp'," "some people call this 'resistance'.") only after he's made the concept abundantly clear using Greenie-talk.

******
I am not alone in my lack of electrical prowess. Senegalese electricians are also missing--or ignoring--some basic electrical concepts. Such as what that third prong in electrical plugs is for. Though appliance cords and extension cords here all have three prongs, and the sockets, of course, have a hole for the third prong to fit into, it turns out those holes aren't wired to anything. This means the outlets aren't grounded.

Until I moved here, electrical grounding was a vague mental construct. Why electricity can't simply go down one wire, into an appliance to do its work, and straight out the other wire is a mystery to me. People do it! We walk into our office buildings, do our work, and walk out.

Well, grounding is no longer theoretical for me. It is a visceral, physical experience, because whenever I touch (for example) an input jack on my laptop while my bare or socked feet are touching the floor, I get shocked. One can also get shocked by touching a refridgerator. My favorite: the friend who got shocked when he touched a cement wall in his house.

A less amusing example occurred at my old apartment building, a few blocks from campus. A colleague was on the roof using the washing machine. (Don't ask me why the washing machine is on the roof--I don't know. But it's there, inside a thief-proof cage of heavy iron bars.) My friend was nearly electrocuted when she touched the washing machine while standing in a small puddle of water from the previous day's rain. How she survived, I'll never know. . . 220 volts delivers quite a jolt!

So, the next time you insert a three-pronged plug into a three-hole socket, be thankful that that third hole is connected to something called a ground, which takes some of those shocking green Greenies back outside where they belong!

Skyline

Here is one of my happiest efforts as an amateur photographer. Can you identify the subject? (For some hints, followed by the answer, read the top entry in the column at right.
photo (c) 2008 by R. Jay Sappington

I have been justly admonished for my lack of photos in recent posts. I plead extenuating circumstances: my cheap camera broke, my expensive camera is too heavy to carry except on specifically photographic outings, and I have had a hard time getting "back on the horse" after losing thousands of digital pictures when my third laptop in four years bit the dust in 2006. I will try to make up for my delinquency with some of the pictures that managed to survive that unwanted purge.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Fuel for the Economy

This just in from an American friend here who is his organization's governmental liason:

New fuel prices went into effect Saturday, September 6, 2008 at 18:00.
Super gasoline went down $0.01 to
$3.75 per gallon.
Diesel went down a whopping $0.20 to $3.52/gallon!

Note: I've converted the CFA francs/liter prices he provided to USD/gallon prices based on today's (September 10, 2008) exchange rate as reported at www.Oanda.com. (The exchange rate has improved by $0.15 in the last few weeks!)

Monday, September 8, 2008

Stormy Weather

A strikingly beautiful scene illuminates my bedroom window. The northern sky is a distant sheet of steel, with small gray puffs and stark white egrets passing silently in reverse silhouettes. The soccer field, sporting its new, thin coat of grass, reflects yellow-gray light from the west with an eerie glow. Vultures hunch in trees, while leaves explode in the wind like billows of smoke. Lightning rends the steel sky. All is darkening slowly, the colors muting but not lost in the deepening storm twilight. Finally, it is all but night, and I begin to see my reflection in the glass, insulated from everything but the occasional thunder.

Another view of DA's Soccer Lake. This is almost the view
from my window--just closer to the field, and perhaps 5 yards
to the left. Photo again courtesy of co-worker Lois Clark.

Exchange Rate Tool Bites the Dust

I removed the second Exchange Rate program I had installed at right because it apparently prevented people from accessing the blog (including, sometimes, me!).

You Rain What You Sow, or, How to Make a Hurricane Without Really Trying












Photo of DA's recently flooded soccer field (at least
it has grass!) by my colleague, DA math teacher Lois Clark.

A few days ago, I learned that Senegal recently began managing a cooperative project with other West African nations to “seed” clouds in an attempt to increase rainfall in this seriously under-watered portion of the continent. Over here, the sky isn’t falling, and that’s a problem for subsistence farmers! Or it was. The cloud seeding project appears to be working.

Can you guess when the project started. (Hint: think “Katrina.”) That’s right! In 2005, when Dakar saw the most rain it’s seen in 30 years. And when numerous storms from Senegal and surrounding countries crossed the Atlantic, becoming hurricanes on the way.

For the following two years, apparently, no seeding was done, and rainfall dropped precipitously*. But this year, the project is apparently back in action, and we’re getting solid rains almost every night. And the Caribbean and North America are getting big hurricanes again!

The friend who first told me about the Senegalese use of cloud seeding was amused because this news pretty well puts the kabosh on theories that global warming is simultaneously causing the drought in West Africa and causing the increased rain storms in West Africa that lead to hurricanes.

Apparently, however, it is fairly well established that certain kinds of storm conditions here in West Africa do lead to the formation of hurricanes as they head west across the Atlantic Ocean.

If true that the seeding is working, and true that some of the storms turn into hurricanes, then human intervention in the weather to help starving people on one continent is leading to loss of life and massive destruction in North America.

* For those of you who don’t remember your high school Earth Science class, or who took something silly like Physics or Chemistry instead, “seeding” a cloud is a process in which some substance is injected into “pregnant” clouds—ones containing lots of tiny water droplets that are too light to fall as rain. The injected substances range from sodium iodide to dry ice. (I’ve heard that even cement powder has been tested). The effect is that the water droplets either freeze or combine to be heavy enough to fall as rain (or concrete, as the case may be).

** Wow! Did you catch that double pun? I’m impressed with myself!

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Typing with a Different Type of Type

I'm testing a new font size and color in hopes of increasing readability. Let me know what you think. (Unfortunately, eblogger often doesn't do quite what you tell it to, even when you select options from its own menus, so there are and will continue to be some inconsistencies.)

Currency Converter Replacement

Don't miss out on my next post!
SUBSCRIBE TO THIS BLOG
by clicking the POSTS button at right.

I couldn't get the previous Currency Converter to work, so I've replaced it. To see how the fluctuations in the dollar are affecting me, just do the following.
  1. Click in the FROM field, press the "U" key 5 times to choose USD, and press ENTER.
  2. Click in the TO field, press the "C" key once to choose CFA BCEAO Francs,* and press ENTER.
  3. Click the GO button (above the FROM field).
* INTERESTING TECHNICAL DISTINCTION: CFA BCEAO Francs (Bank code: XOF) are West African Francs, used by 8 countries, including Senegal. CFA BEAC Francs (Bank code: XAF) are used by a different consortium of 5 CENTRAL African nations. Both currencies are tied to the Euro, and at the same exchange rate, but you can't use XAF Francs in XOF countries, or vice versa. In addition, a few other countries in the region have their own currencies, and do not accept either XOF or XAF Francs! (For more details, including color-coded maps, search for "CFA Francs" on Wikipedia, the source of the info in this paragraph.)
Good news: as of today, the dollar has rebounded from its recent low of 400CFA to the dollar to (today) 446CFA to the dollar. So a box of breakfast cereal today cost only $7.84 instead of the $8.75 it cost two or three months ago. And a pound of bananas is down from $1.50 to $1.34.

I don't know if any of you are interested in all this, but I am--especially the cost of food!

Monday, August 25, 2008

It's raining, it's pouring...

As I write, I can hear a downpour of refreshing rain outside my open windows. This is the best rainy season West Africa has had since it spawned Hurricane Katrina a few years back. Recently, we've had rain every day or two!

Food supplies are still low for many Senegalese, but there's good hope of a good harvest ahead!

Currency Converter

I've just added a currency converter "gadget" at the left--under the SUBSCRIPTION buttons. You, too, can watch the value of the dollar go up and down in comparison to West African Currency! Just press the CONVERT button for the latest exchange rate.
UPDATE: This converter didn't work so I replaced it. For instructions, see my August 28 post.

Your Support Dollars at Work


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SUBSCRIBE TO THIS BLOG.

Click the POSTS button at right.

Friends often ask me about the cost of living in Dakar. It depends a lot on how I choose to eat.

FOOD. I generally buy western food imported from Europe and, sometimes, the US. I went grocery shopping today and bought the following.
1 box of breakfast cereal
2 large boxes of skim milk powder
2 boxes of fruit juice
4 fruit yogurts
My total bill was 17,110 cfa. Even at last week’s improving exchange rate of 450cfa/dollar, that’s $38.00!

If I consistently ate Senegalese style (mostly rice, with various vegetable or meat sauces very high in oil content), I could eat for about $3.00 per day.

FUEL. Today, I saw gasoline for sale at 798cfa per liter, diesel at 808cfa. That comes to $6.71/gallon for gas, $6.80/gallon for diesel. Most vehicles here use diesel.

I don’t often buy fuel. When I need to travel around town, I either take a taxi—$3.50 to $5.00 per trip, one way, depending on distance and traffic—or use a school vehicle and reimburse the school about 70 cents per mile.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

SUBSCRIBE to my blog!

Use the new POSTS button at right to subscribe to this blog. You will then be automatically notified when I add a new post.

NOTE: The ALL COMMENTS button doesn't do anything since I don't have this blog set up to accept comments from readers. But eblogger didn't offer the option to suppress the appearance of that button.

CAVEAT: I have not personally used this feature. (I don't need to subscribe to my own blog!) If you do, please write to tell me if it works. (The last time eblogger added a similar feature, it did not work for every one of my friends who tried to use it. I'm hoping this one is more reliable.)

Monday, August 18, 2008

And the word is...(the envelope, please)...

to find the mYsteRy word, which I unwillingly omitted from the August 15 post, check this paragRaph--simply find The capItal letters scattered aBout, reveRse their sequence, and there you'll hAve it.

Who Benefits? (Part 2) Or, That's Water through the Dam

A magazine article I read last year complained that western companies come to Africa, harvest the natural resources, and then take those resources elsewhere for further processing, refusing to let Africans take part in the more lucrative steps in the manufacture of goods. That sounds selfish until you realize that the infrastructure here (I speak of West Africa) is not reliable enough to run large-scale processing and manufacturing plants.

The following story amazes and saddens me.

The Republic of Guinea is extremely rich in natural resources, including minerals and water power. Some years ago, a foreign nation donated huge amounts of engineering expertise and enormous quantities of cement to design and construct a dam on one of Guinea's major rivers. This dam, I am told, could have provided enough electrical power for the entire country, with some left over to sell to neighboring nations. It had the potential to completely revolutionize Guinea's economy.

But when I visited Guinea last December, I found that even parts of the capital city lacked electricity. Entire neighborhoods lighted their markets with kerosene lamps at night. Why? Because the folks in leadership when the dam was being built apparently stole much of the cement powder for their own personal projects and those of their friends. Once the dam was built, it was determined that the cement was so diluted as to be too weak to hold back the river. So, the dam was never put into operation. Now, decades later, this country is still stuck in poverty.

NOTE: I heard the dam story while I was in Guinea. I have done no follow-up research, so it may be off in some particulars either from errors by those who told it to me, or resulting from my less-and-less reliable rememberer, or both. However, I believe it to be true in at least its basic outline. I welcome corrections.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Who benefits? (Part 1)

As much as I respect the Senegalese government (see previous posts), the poor delivery here of such basic services as electricity baffle me. I want to ask someone, "Why are you doing this to your own people?"

During the rainy season (July-December), the power is cut, unannounced, several times a week--sometimes daily, sometimes more than once in a day-- for anywhere between 15 minutes and 10 hours. Apparently, the government, which subsidizes the power plants, frequently doesn't pay the bills on time, so the power company shuts down the plant--or has daily, rolling outages around the city to reduce output.

If there were even a schedule of outages published, it would be immensely better. Then individuals and businesses could at least attempt to plan activities requiring electricity for the times it would be on. (In fact, I'm told this was tried a few years ago, but the schedule was so seldom kept, it was more frustrating than having no schedule, so they quit publishing it.)

I suppose in a predominantly pre-industrial environment, reliable technological infrastructure is not crucial. Much of Senegal qualifies for that description. Farmers and carpenters who use hand tools, vendors with street-side stalls, even taxi drivers in diesel-fueled cars don't care whether the electricity is on or off.

But unlike much of the country, Dakar is not pre-industrial. There are factories, grocery stores, restaurants, banks, and many other businesses that depend on electricity to function--not to mention safety features such as traffic lights and street lights. Computers are common in businesses here, too. Cutting the current without warning is incredibly disruptive to life, businesses, schools.

The president promised last year that power outages would end on a specific day in October. And, in fact, they became very rare for several months. It was wonderful. You didn't have to wonder if you could perform a task (typing, printing, photocopying) at any point during the day. But the stoppages ramped up again in the spring, and have been horrible in the one week I've been back in town.

So, w
ho benefits when the power goes out? Somebody must gain or it wouldn't keep happening.

Suppliers of generator fuel, perhaps? But aren't they the same people who supply fuel for the electrical generators (though perhaps at a lower,bulk price).
"I expect," surmised one of my stateside relatives, "that the 'in crowd' (whoever that may be) gets great benefit for maintaining the status quo rather than for improving it. Parties with solutions could be threatening to the in crowd so their barriers to implement solutions are kept high." This is the most plausible explanation I've heard.

Whatever the cause, Africans suffer daily. And, year after year, entire nations pay the price of such infrastructural unreliability. See my next post for a sad example.

Mystery Word

Has anyone determined the word missing from my last entry? Here's the sentence, again.
I'm not a fan of [Frank Gehry's] abstract, seemingly * style, but it is striking.
Email me with your guesses. I remembered it as I drifted off to sleep the other night, but didn't turn on the light and write it down, so it's drifted away again.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Jay the Tourist

TOURING FRIENDS AND FAMILY. I have returned to Dakar from an 8-week visit to the States. I've been wondering what to write that would be of general interest. I can summarize my trip simply by saying I got plenty (!) of rest, saw a number of family members, a number of friends, and met a few new folks. It was great to see "everyone"!

I put "everyone" in quotes because, to my frustration and in some cases embarrassment, I did not see everyone I wanted to. Thanks to a college-era alumni newsletter, word had gotten around that I was coming to town, and people I haven't seen in 20 years contacted me. As a result of a volatile travel schedule, and also of eventual burnout, I didn't get to connect with all of them. If you're one of them, my apologies. Next time, I hope!

JAY THE TOURGUIDE IN DC. I had two, thoroughly enjoyable, touristic voyages. First, I had the unique pleasure of playing tourguide to four Dakar Academy alums and their father (my former English8 team-teaching colleague) during their 12-hour layover in Washington, D.C. We perused the National Mall between the Capitol and the Lincoln Memorial, taking in numerous memorials and some International Folk Festival exhibits and foods. I may become a docent when I retire.

JAY THE TOURIST IN CHICAGO. Later, in Chicago, I went to Millenium Park--built since my last visit, entirely with private money--for the first time. I didn't know what to expect, but I wasn't really expecting much. I was wrong! It's a destination! Sculpture, indoor and outdoor theaters, gardens, plazas, and more!

The sculptures looked odd or downright silly in tourist brochures, but were, in fact, terrific. The shiny silver "Cloud Gate" (shaped like a huge pinto bean) is both fascinating and fun. One side yields a dramatic, bowed reflection of the Chicago skyline. Up close, you see yourself and other gawkers in humorous distortion. Underneath, you're lost in a magical and indecipherable kaleidescope of reflections.

Though I missed the open orchestra rehearsal at the Jay Pritzker Pavillion, the outdoor theater designed by Frank Gehry, it was a visual blast. I'm not a fan of his abstract, seemingly * style, but it is striking. And the creation of a distinct audience "space" through use of a grid of widely spaced arches over the lawn seating, is both interesting and impressive. (Alas, I missed the wandering BP Bridge, also by Gehry, which looks cool in photos on the Park's website.)

Jaume Plensa's Crown Fountain--twin glass-brick monoliths spouting water into a sloped plaza, and projecting huge video close-ups of Chicago residents--is quirky, but worth the visit just to see the screaming children vying for a position under the foot-wide streams of water coming from the mouths of the citizen videos.

The one disappointment was the Lurie Garden. Entirely walled off by tall firs or junipers, it's invisible from the outside, and it's a good thing. A gently sloping plot perhaps half the size of a football field is criss-crossed by sunken, walled paths. In the remaining patchwork of plots are planted the homeliest weeds and grasses, in the least aesthetically pleasing arrangement imagineable--Nature has never done so poorly on its own. The tallest plants were often next to the sunken paths, obscuring the vegetation further in. My main color recollection is gray, though I was there at the height of summer.

I see from the park's website, http://www.millenniumpark.org/, that I missed a lot. It's on my list for more attention next time I'm in Chicago!

JAY THE ALMOST-TOURIST IN CASABLANCA. Finally, on my return trip to Dakar I had a 12-hours layover in fabled Casablanca, Morocco. Alas, I can neither deny nor confirm rumors that the city does not live up to the romantic reputation it's earned in the US from the movie of the same name. The airline, I had been told, would provide a hotel or a tour of the city. I was going to choose the tour, but it wasn't being offered anymore, so instead I spent the day in a very decent airport hotel in the middle of brown scrubby no-man's-land, with no city in sight. I watched part of the Olympic opening ceremonies on TV (Mini-Review: fantastically creative and clever in places) and ate a lunch of delicious Moroccan food at the hotel's buffet.

* The missing word in this sentence is one of my favorities, but also one
of the hardest for me to remember. I used to keep it written in my wallet to
keep me from being frustrated to the point of distraction in conversation. I'll
fill it in when I finally think of it again.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Political Apologies

I heard a very interesting lecture on the radio tonight. Entitled "The Meaning and Value of Political Apology," it was an insightful analysis of the reasons for, and the effects and limitations of "political apologies"--when a government apologizes for the nation's past actions, perhaps decades or centuries after the fact.

The text of the lecture is available as a pdf file at the following site. It is fairly brief (8 pages, with lots of white space), and worth reading if you've ever wondered about the value, or even the legitimacy of such apologies.

http://www.ony.unu.edu/middayforum/May%2023%20Apology/Political%20Apology%20Speech%20Handout%20Version.pdf.

The author and speaker was French Jean-Marc Coicaud, a young but experienced diplomat, who has co-written several books on international law and human rights, and who currently heads UNU's New York Office (UNU-NYO).

Photo of Jean-Marc Coicaud unattributed.
Source: http://update.unu.edu/archive/issue34_21.htm

Statesman Abdoulaye Wade











If you read the recent National Geographic article on the Sahel--the transitional region between the Sahara desert and the tropical forests of Africa that stretches across the continent, you know that this strip has been gradually moving south, leaving once-arable lands unproductive.

I was interested to learn today that Senegal's President, Abdoulaye Wade (pronounced Wahd), will be giving the 2008 U Thant lecture at United Nations University (UNU), a Tokyo-based school and think-tank. His topic will be "Climate Change and African-led Initiatives."

According to the UNU website,

President Wade will speak on climate change and Africa, and specifically on how African-led initiatives, such as la Grande Muraille Verte (the Great Green Wall) can contribute to combating desertification. . . [I]n his recent speeches President Wade has highlighted the importance of the sharing of experiences, of collaborative effort, and of innovation to the success of these initiatives.
I can't read French-language newspapers fluently enough to follow daily political developments in Senegal, but more and more, I am learning about President Wade's statesmanship on crucial world issues. At a conference of Islamic nations held in Dakar in April, he stood firm against calls to make Senegal an Islamic republic, and gave a reasoned but urgent plea for respect and cooperation across religious lines, holding up Senegal as a (in my mind, valid) example.

Photo shows President Wade addressing the UN General Assembly, September, 2007. UN Photo/Marco Castro. Source: http://www.unu.edu/ (June 24, 2008)

Quote source: http://www.unu.edu/uthant_lectures/#wade (June 24, 2008)

Friday, May 30, 2008

Dakar Academy: What and Why?

This video by professional John Brill (no known relation to my brother) of Colorado introduces you to the purpose and a few of the people of Dakar Academy, my home, and will make you thirsty for more. Fortunately, Brill is producing a longer video to quench that thirst! Stay tuned.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Fine Fun Art

For some amusement mixed with a sense of wonder, go to http://users.skynet.be/J.Beever/pave.htm and select any of the thumbnail pictures there. Unlike most trompe-l'oeil exponents, British artist Julian Beever paints his eye-tricking images on streets, not buildings. You may have seen some of these which have made the rounds in the past year or two via email, but there are several here I'd never seen, plus they're always worth a second look. You can also watch a time lapse video of Beever creating one of the scenes at http://media.cnpapers.com/chalk/

Fine Fine Art

We just held our Middle School Fine Arts Festival, which consists of a juried art show (judged by three international artists), a short drama presented by each grade (6, 7, 8), and a handbell performance by each grade. I had no part except to observe and applaud, which I did a lot. (I teach middle school in the fall, but not the spring.) Even in budding adolescence, some of these kids have extreme and already-developed talent. It truly amazes me. They're so good, I hope to purchase a few of the pieces! I certainly don't remember anyone in my junior high school being so gifted or skilled.

The High School Fine Arts program is next Saturday, and will be even more impressive. I did purchase an entry from this show my first year here--a striking, quirky, highly detailed ceramic set--a triangular vase, candy dish, and candlesticks, and a set of (square) coasters--all now prominently displayed in my living room. I do have a formal role in this event--conducting our 11-member Chamber Choir. They will perform 6 selections:
  • Kafal Sviri--an exciting and difficult Bulgarian folk song (their favorite)
  • Love You--a little known, a capella, American pop song from the 1970s (their other favorite) that I "discovered" when it played over the credits of the film Stranger than Fiction
  • O Shenendoah--American folk song (which none of them had ever heard!) in a very pretty and subtle arrangement
  • Windsong--another film tune, this one with an African flair (the text is in Swahili), written specifically for Mighty Joe Young--which they grew up on, but I had never seen or heard.
  • Hitch a Ride--a light-hearted song in the style of a black spiritual
  • Chantez a Dieu--a 17th century, Huegonot, fugue-like setting of Psalm 96 (or maybe this is their favorite)

I'm looking forward to the concert. They have worked hard, they are ready, and they sound great!