Life in Development

Because the sea

2009-11-19T19:45:00.016+13:00

This blog is for first time since 2002, not about some place... Perhaps, because the last one about South America, I got feedback on: how I finished in NZ?... and the main reason is because the Sea... so this blog is about the sea and me, so you warned and can stop reading now if too busy or don’t really care.

I don’t really know why the sea in particular has such a strong influence in my life. Looking back, I’m a ex rower, ex search and rescue swimmer, ex lifeguard, ex fisherman, presently fisheries biologist, open water swimmer, diver and surfer...
In fact, I grew up far from the ocean. I did however cross the Atlantic in 45 days on board a cruising ship from Germany all the way to Argentina when I was 6 years old. The boat was called the Bremen (ex Pasteur). I like to think that trip marked my life.

I don’t know if I have real memories from the trip or later recollections from watching super 8 films that my dad did at the time. My mum says that used to spend the whole day looking at the horizon and hassling the crew wit questions and to take me to all part of the vessel and usually I was able to make my own way to the bridge as I became a sort of a favorite passenger of the officers there.

Reality in Corrientes and Parana (where I lived after that trip) was marked by a big river: the Parana (I really mean big... is 3km at its narrowest)

Everyone in my family play tennis... my mum was one of the first generations of females pros out of Argentina and she has owned since then a big tennis complex, my brother a former pro as well cracked the top 100 but was plagued by consecutive back surgeries (a family trademark) and went into coaching since them. My dad after retiring from his job of a regional director of Argentina’s National Institute of Agronomical Research supplements his meager pension with tennis classes (at 70!).
I never owned a racket and may have played 10 games in all my life.

The water was always close to my house, but far from the family... So there I went... (I kind of grow up by reaction, more than by action) I rowed and swim competitively all trough my military high school... and the rest of my time was spend fantasizing about the sea, the south pacific and far away places... surely feed by a mixture of french influences Jules Verne, Jacques Cousteau and so on...

After the war (Falklands/Malvinas) with the collapse of the military government things looked brighter, so with my diploma under my arm I decided to move to Mar del Plata, become a fisherman and study Marine Biology... which that was like deciding to be a glaciologist or a astronaut for some one with my background.

Once there, I was drawn to the Club Nautico Mar del Plata (CNMP) and the National Institute of Fisheries Research (INIDEP). Both places became the center points of my social and economical life.

I got good at sailing sailing by crewing in regattas every time I had an opportunity and worked for the club running a small shipyard, as a children’s sailing coach and a lifeguard; and for the fisheries institute as a crew member on the research vessels, a fisheries observer and later a research technician and then a scientist.

I had diving as an optional paper in Uni, and I got my qualification there. But didn’t dived much until later on in life when I migrated... surfing was quite limited at the time in Argentina and while some of my friend where into it... I could not afford a board, but I fixed and re-glassed a fair share of them.

My main other thing beside sailing was swimming (to be a lifeguard in Argentina is a 2 year course, and you become legally responsible for the people under your section of the beach- a bit like a policeman... so you need to be VERY fit)

Anyway, by some reason I was kind of obsessed with the South Pacific... I had a big map of the Pacific Ocean (by the National Geographic) that I treasured and was always in my walls... I even had marked all the places I wanted to go...

But yeah... my fantasy was a great escape from a very insecure personality... my share size and appearance wasn’t very “acceptable” in post military dictature society... I never felt that I fitted in any group, so my place was with the outcasts (were I fitted only partially). The sailing club was a quite conservative place, but oddly enough I was quite useful and children really liked me as a coach, so I was sort of “accepted” as long as didn’t try to go to the parties)... Enough to say that we never were allowed into the places were the “nice people” used to go...

At that stage, I as well was going at art-school on night shift... I wasn’t after a degree... as I only was doing all the practical papers and not the theory ones. In any case... in those 3 years was were I felt for first time “accepted” and “liked” as I was. Particularly by woman... I started at the time (26!) my first real relationships...

Very close to getting my degree (in Argentina you go directly into masters level with a thesis) I got involved into a really sad, technical and boring dispute with a “superior” in the fisheries institute and my contract was cancelled... (of the 120 that we started Uni, only 2 of us were working -for money- there as what we studied).

It was a big shock... but in many ways was wake-up call... I realize what my future would look like in a research institution that depends on political wills, were you spend half you time trying to do your job and the other time navigating political storms under a lot of jealousies and back stabbings, with shit salaries, and no options of moving up the scale without a strong “connection” in the ministry of whatever.

So, 2 weeks after graduations and after having sold everything I had (wasn’t much) and having broken the hearth of my girlfriend at the time (we were living together) I got in a boat that was going to the South Pacific... I spend almost 2 years doing of fishing and other jobs in Fiji, Samoa and Tonga until finally I made it to NZ, were I fell in love with the place and I stayed for good.

On those South Pacific days I got more into diving... 2 things blow my mind about it... the colors patterns of the tropical reefs and the “three dimensionality” of diving. You see on earth we move in 2 directions only... we move in a “plan”... but in the water divers move freely in 3 dimensions... is as close as flying as you get... but 2 things sort of put me off a bit... one is the almost religiosity about diving by which many divers you interact when diving live by... the logbook, the records, the list of fish ids... and so on... is like the kind of dive for the after bit more than the actual diving... I have no idea how many dives I have done (over 100?), my diving card is from 1984 and is in quite pathetic condition...when I dive I like to “fly” I turn around, look at bubbles going up, the diffraction of the sun, get very close the LSD type colored fishes for very long... and all that kind of annoy the purists... but I have an awesome time. The other is the amount of gear you need and the logistics involved... is quite full on business.

That is the reason I love open ocean swimming... is very “pure” in some ways... if you are running in the open for 5 km and stop moving... nothing happens. If you are swimming in the open ocean for 5km and stop moving... you die. Is a very cleansing experience for me... I think I have taken the most important decisions of my life while swimming of my life while swimming... migrating, buying a house, marring Vibeke, having kids, going to Rome, leaving Rome, just to name a few... I really love swimming.

Surfing...I couldn't put into words the 1st time I surfed (I was in NZ already and for 1st time I could afford to buy a board without feeling guilty about the money). But I read something a few weeks ago (Tim Winton's Breath - page 28), and understood what seized my soul that day.

"How strange it was to see fellow ocean roughed man, do something beautiful. Something pointless and elegant, as though nobody saw or cared". There is a lot of beauty in the Ocean, and a lot of roughness when you make a living out of it... Surfing allows me to do something beautiful and totally pointless just for the sake of it... I feel a better person after surfing. I like the idea of my children seeing their dad do something beautiful (even if I’m not so good) and pointless, like the idea of they seeing me coming out of the water with a big grin of happiness after –really- doing nothing, besides getting on top of a piece of foam and fiberglass down the face a wave.

Jike this guy here, Joel Tudor that make it look soooo easy.

I wish one day I could be out there with Felix and Kika... but they are not me... they may want to grow by reaction as well... so is up to them... not going to force them... (I did however bought a board for Felix).

I feel sheltered in the ocean... land always make me feel unsecure... too many variables, too many people with things to prove and agendas... At sea, I know what I’m capable and what I’m not, either in a boat, a board, or just my skin...

If I die at sea... it would be only fair... it would be under my rules and I would be ok with it in what ever way happens... If I died on land, well, is in my will already... I like to be cremated and thrown to the ocean... so every time some one I care for, looks at the sea... is like it comes to visit me to the place where I feel at home.

Cono Sur

2009-09-16T20:28:00.017+12:00

Argentina, Paraguay, Uruguay, Brazil and Chile are places common to my past. So heading back there is always a mixture of feelings... Going to Argentina for my mum’s post surgery and my dad’s 70s, between two working trips to Chile and Uruguay was cool.

Working in Latin America is a different experience as to working in SE Asia, Africa or the Pacific, as you are dealing with quite prepared and knowledgeable people that know what to do, but live submerged in very difficult institutions... is really “command and control”... the challenge are the institutional politics, power bunkers, positioning based on who you know more than how good you are, personal vendettas, etc... All things I know well enough... (key reasons why I emigrated!)

Chile is perhaps the more “efficient” in terms of the role of government, and they are the most transparent government in the region (for Latin American standards), and in general terms is the most advanced and organised of all. I enjoy working there.

The job was to help on the set up of a regulatory/functional system with the local fisheries authorities, that could allow the products of the artisanal hand line fishery be monitored to comply with international management and sanitary standards and therefore allow for their fish to access the international markets (and ergo more money)

Chileans have a unique accent and use of words among the Spanish speaking countries, so working with them is funny... I had a young team and we had a great time on and off the job...

Southern Chile is a pretty unique part of the world, sandwiched among the Andes and the Ocean is a place of unique beauty and rugged lifestyles. To be an artisanal fisherman there is hard core... rough and exposed weather and cold... really cold.

Working details are boring... so have a look on the pictures....

Argentina... well... my relationship is complex... Kind of like seeing and ex-girlfriend that is beautiful, sexy, talented, smart with a great sense of humour but completely non trustable, she’ll treason you for nothing... and is not because she does not like you... is just that that is the way she is... so you either deal with it... or you move on, and get together for catch up once in while...

But then... my whole family is there... and a huge chunk of my past... and even if two of my best friends from my life there, now live in NZ... I amputated a huge chunk of me when I left... and the “what if I stayed” is a constant presence....

Besides going there means living at either may dad’s or my mum’s... something that as boarding school boy I haven’t done since childhood, but then this was an special occasion... I had my children with me.

My kids haven’t had close family dealings... Vib and I are immigrants in NZ... and while we have a fantastic extended adopted family in NZ (I love the whanau concept)... as my boy Felix said: this people look like us!

My mum has been quite sick and my dad was to be 70, so we went and spend almost a month.

Vib took a Spanish course in Buenos Aires (here is her blog ) and I took the children up north to where my family lives. Then she came over and we went even further north (near Paraguay) to the place I grow up.

My dad married again and it has 2 children aged 13 and 11... they are cool kids and love my family a lot, Vib and I are contributing to their education... as my dad is not a wealthy man.

My brother has to 2 kids (5 and 2 years old), so my ones had 2 weeks of playing all day with cousins and 1/2 uncles... which did wonders for their Spanish.

I had the chance to catch up with friends, and even became the godfather of my friend Sari little boy.

Going to the area I grow up and the wetlands surrounding it (Esteros del Ibera) was quite something... as for first time my children got to see the place and environment that I lived when I was their age...

The wildlife in the wetlands is incredible and well preserved as it is a natural reserve since the 90s (My dad was one of the founders)...

Meeting friends I have not seen in more than 30 years and having dinner with the lady whom I learnt to read with... was very moving.

And then my dad’s 70... not that he really represents his age... (he doesn’t really gives shit about it... or much else in a matter of fact)... saying that is a right wing hippie that set up socialist cooperatives, is ultra qualified and dress like a gaucho... is just scratching the surface of his complexity...

In any case the party was whole day affaire, I got to see my cousins with their kids (after 18 years!) and so on... if interested here are some pictures...

Uruguay has a special charm for me... on the distance I see it now as the NZ of down there... small, original, proudly independent but next door to giants. I have written about it before

Fisheries wise, the situation is complex as the share a huge part of their resources with Argentina Under a common fisheries zone “Zona Comun de Pesca”.

A key issue in managing a fishery is a form of “ownership” of the resource so is clear “how much” can the players catch based on good scientific evaluation of the maximum available catch volumes by using economic and biological sustainability.

Argentina’s fisheries policies have been a mess for a long time, and Uruguay while having good intentions find itself in a “tragedy of commons” situations. If they take an strong management actions, then Argentina is just going to keep fishing what Uruguay don’t catch...

A very tricky situation.

Fiji and the irrelevance of governments

2009-05-12T03:12:00.006+12:00

Is hard not to like Fiji... I have been there many times, I know people and places... is quite a hub in Pacific Island terms, and combination of fijians, hindus and chinese makes the place quite unique... So unique that no many outside rules apply there....

Yes there is a military government now... is not the 1st one and is always about the same issues... corruption, racial divide, land ownership, etc.

As a background, the british brought Indian workers for the sugar plantations and they had an unusual status during colonial time... with independence they got citizenship but not equal right in various areas, one of them was land ownership... they prospered in the business and education... but in many ways they still among the poorest as well.

In 1909 near the peak of the inflow of indentured Indian laborers, the land ownership pattern was frozen and further sales prohibited. Today over 80% of the land is held by indigenous Fijians, under the collective ownership of the traditional Fijian clans. Indo-Fijians produce over 90% of the sugar crop but must lease the land they work from its ethnic Fijian owners instead of being able to buy it outright. The leases have been generally for 10 years, although they are usually renewed for two 10-year extensions. Many Indo-Fijians argue that these terms do not provide them with adequate security and have pressed for renewable 30-year leases, while many ethnic Fijians fear that an Indo-Fijian government would erode their control over the land.

A google will give tons of deeper and surely more accurate analysis of the situation than this one...

On the ground... you would not notice much... a taxi driver (my political barometers anywhere) told me something like that:

"Government has become so irrelevant to ours lives that we don't care anymore... they are up there always arguing about the same... I'm down here working to eat... we all just wait and see... when news come in the radio, I change station, I put music at least there u know what they are singing about"

Other voices you hear say: “is funny they tell you that no one religion is “more” right than another one... but then they gospel on one form of democracy as if it the only solution. I didn't hear so much uproar with Pakistan... they had a military dictator for ages... but Americans needed them... we are not so important”

Fijians are Melanesians in their ancestry, but very integrated in the Polynesian “world” due to the tradelines. While Polynesians were traditionally a class systems (Tonga still has a king, Samoa has a parliament but selected among nobility lines, etc) with a warrior upper class, Melanesians had a more egalitarian social units with vest political power in groups of elders. Within some of these groups are "Big Men," renowned for their political, economic, and warrior attributes, and you get to be a “big man” pretty much on your own stand, without necessary having to belong to a powerful clan... as consequence this “status” is not hereditary. (If interested on this issues read “worlds apart” - a history of the pacific Islands by I.C. Campbell)

In many ways is no wonder why the military has such a important role in Fijian society... a warrior in the family is a huge source of pride... I have been in small villages having Kava (a traditional root drink of ceremonial and social importance among polynesia and fiji) and you see pictures of Fijian soldiers fighting away (mostly Iraq) either as part of regular armies or as private security (mercenaries), they provide the village and their church with income and "honour"...

Furthermore, Fiji’s main export is “services”, basically in security... and they are gutsy... very blessed with amazing natural bodies, speed and cunning ways in combat... as any that has played rugby against then can witness...

So, at least to me is no surprise that military government will still have and always will have influence in Fijian politics until a governance system is achieved that represents not only political issues but as well the weird racial situation and the traditional structure of the society.

In times of crisis, some people tend to welcome military interventions (in reality I believe that no military coup is completely uninvited by at least some part of the civil population), I guess the idea of people living under a code (military code?) has some sort of honor and law, when things around it are lawless...

The fisheries dept of Fiji for example, was by far the most inefficient and corrupt of all I knew... they lived in a world apart. Its disappearance would had no influence in the fisheries stake holders besides less corruption... 75% of its personnel was suspended by the military... that cleaned the corruption... but left the sector without knowledge and management

When change in government happens, in Spanish they say: “new broom cleans well” (escoba nueva barre bien)... but then in english I find it very interesting that the difference in between “use” of power, and “abuse” is only 2 letters... and that has been always the problem with military governments...

So basically... yes there is a rule of law that should be followed... but the older i get, the less I judge... legal does no always means good...there is only one group of people that will decide if Bainimarama’s rule was good or not, and that is the fijians (all included) themselves.

otherwise... is a beautiful, dynamic, multicultural and fantastic place. Ah! And I did my 1st triathlon in 11 years! Oldest guy in the field, did not finish last, and I was invited to the wedding of the winner...

some images from one of the villages

my friend Bob Gillet, his son Mark and a boat that i'm planning to build one day

one river we kayaked on the weekend

Leaving FAO and Rome

2009-03-25T04:15:00.015+13:00

I’m sure that justifying the rational behind quitting a well paid job diplomatic job for life with all sorts of perks, that allowed me to do all the research I wanted, while living in Rome, arguably one of the most beautiful and important cities in history would be quite difficult... even for me, that i just did that....

Where to start?

I have looked up with admiration at the FAO logo, since I was trained by a programme from the Fisheries Department as an 18 years old fisherman.

That training gave me good knowledge, but most importantly, incentives.... it allowed me to start a path, which since then, has taken my life beyond any expectation I ever had.

Being chosen for a job here, to replace one of those who trained me so many years ago, was like closing a dream circle... I don’t know if FAO changes the world, but definitively changes people’s lives, it did it twice for me.

Rome is just unique... drowned in history and fantastic food, great weather and inner city parks and treasures... she is very charming in its own way... but she asks a price out of you... if you are happy to pay it.... then she is all yours forever.

FAO FI is a good old solid boat, she is the one and only of its kind, but as any boat, it needs some refitting, new engines... she spend to much fuel just to stay afloat, ergo she can’t put much into doing its job... she has a lot of very good crew, but as well some people that past their use by date....

And again, as in any boat... the ultimate responsibility lies in the skipper, for good or bad. The skipper should have done something long time ago.

FAO is sailing in rough waters and rocky bottom, and I really hope that the skipper (or anew one) can find his course to better grounds.

In any case FAO is a great employer, working there has perks that have disappeared in the rest of the world ages ago (just as one example: sugar rations!), plus good tax free salaries and the right to a minimal pension after only 5 years work.... In combination with Rome, is not hard to see why people stay there for ever...

Diving into that world is at first a culture shock, that varies in intensity depending of where you come from... but as every one tells you... you get used to it...

I absolutely see why some people would not change it for anything else, most cities of the world offer way less than FAO/Rome in any way you like to compare it, from security o weather... ergo attracting from african to scandinavians...

So why I quit after a year and a bit of work, after being chosen among over 100 candidates?

I guess is no other answer than because I’m Francisco.... A couple of things bugged me.

I’m a village boy, and having the option, I like my children to grow up in a small place too, walking down the beach after school, having lots of places to run around school for free, knowing that if they have a problem, 99% of the people that may get in touch with, will really try to help them...

Life in a big city is way different.... and even if you are in the position I was; good money, diplomatic status, medical coverage, influences, etc. Something in my guts was telling me it was not right for them.

Hopefully life does not prove me wrong, but i believe no money can’t buy the goodness of been in a beautiful and safe place when you are a kid. I had that opportunity and, what is even better, i have the chance to offer that even scarcer luxury today to my children.

Italy... even if by working at the UN you are in some sort of island absent from political realities, the place is quite fucked up... just read the newspapers in terms of economic performance, birth rate, migration policies, etc, etc... from the prime minister (particularly him) all the way down the chain... there is a massive contempt for the law and the basic rights from people... no one on the top really gives a shit about anyone or anything below them...

Mussolini said: governing italians is not impossible, is just useless. Some of the things that happen there... do not happen anywhere else in Europe, Saviano’s Gomorra best seller and movie are just an example...

Yeaah... well, may be charming for a while, but I grow up in a society like that... where your personal efforts alone don’t cut the cake, but rather “who” you know and the “connections” you have, where politicians and other powerful types live above the rules that apply to the rest of mortals... where exterior looks are way more important that what you really do.

And I really despised that, I grow up in rebellion to that. for example: I remember spending 4 years working as a scientist for Argentina's national fisheries institute with a cleaner’s contract (and salary) while less qualified people, got way higher post because they had a “uncle” in some ministry. I remember being constantly tag by whoever security idiot was in charge of any place, because my dreads... but overall the frustration of knowing that you could really don’t do anything against it...

And while we (Vib and I) will manage to fend off some of those influences on my children... I really don’t want them to grow up in a place like this if I have an option...

And I’ll repeat my already cliche argument about NZ... nowhere else a 29 years old guy with 300 USD as its life saving would be able to start a new life like I did... Never I was asked which political party I was, which private school I went, who “recommends” me... do you job, do it right and you get ahead... those are the values I want them to know still exist in some places.

So yeap... there it is... partly family... partly me...

Did I get positives away from FAO? Yes definitively, and I believe I wrote about them before

At professional level, I interacted with some real “popes” in very specific fields of fisheries, I worked with some VERY clever people and having those contacts would help me all my life.

At social level, well... I found my tribe.... transient, border-less, with twisted racial origins, doing for a living things that most of people don’t even think that someone does... I made instant friends... that I going to miss dearly.

But finally I think my biggest gain is at personal level... I got to work with the UN!

May not mean a lot for most people, but means a lot to me. I did not (neither anyone else around me) had big expectation about my life , and somehow I achieved what for many would not even be dare to dream. I got a VERY good recommendation from my bosses and a open door to come back.

But most importantly, it confirmed that you can achieve things under you own rules, if you are consistent and respectful. It somehow makes me change my opinion that sometimes, even if you never wear a tie, speak very diplomatically or do not have powerful “recommenders”, you still make it... and if just that is the outcome of my time at FAO, well... thank you and my respect forever.

by the way... below is a picture from the beach at home

about the future and food

2008-12-28T10:11:00.008+13:00

Not going to talk about xmas or new year... neither fish... (rather strange coming from me)... In any case it has been a while since the last posting, I have been mostly based on Roma, working from the office on some policy and forecasting issues from the fisheries point of view but in perspective to food availability in general, this is an expansion of my usual work and has been quite revealing..

A bit more than a year at the UN, has given me a good inside view on this massive organization and exposed me to the "really big picture". I guess the main impact of this job on my life is to really see things of a “trully” global perspective... I’m have to deal with technical issues at community, regional and at maximum country level... but here the job is the world...

And while I can remember there always been “apocalyptic” type challenges that never totally eventuate (tribute to our environment resilience?), I see trough my work here some real challenges...

Without trying to provide a complete account of them, some of the most key challenges in the discussion table are:

The key (for me) is that world population is projected to grow from 6.5 billion in 2005 to nearly 9.2 billion by 2050... to feed a population of more than 9 billion free from hunger, global food production must nearly double by 2050... today’s figure of people living below 2 USD/day is 58% of the world population...

The entire population growth will take place in developing countries and it will occur wholly in urban areas, which will swell by 3.2 billion people as rural populations contract. That means that a shrinking rural work force will have to be much more productive and deliver more output from fewer resources.

Higher productivity requires more investment in agriculture, more machinery, more implements, tractors, water pumps, combine harvesters, etc., as well as more skilled and better-trained farmers and better functioning supply chains.

This means that fewer farmers will have to feed a more populous world with fewer resources and minimal access to credit under the present crisis.

One way would be for world agriculture to expand its land basis and use some of the nearly 4.2 billion hectares potentially available for rain-fed crop production (only 1.5 billion ha are currently in use). But that would not be possible without further environmental damage and increased greenhouse gas emission.

Another avenue would be to tap into yet-unused yield-enhancing resources, which could double productivity for many crops in many countries. However, such potential can only be realized if farmers have improved access to inputs, apply better fertilizers in more abundance, make use of better seeds, improve their farming and management skills and expand land under irrigation. These as well are measures that have serious socio-economical and environmental consequences.

In addition to rising resource scarcity, global agriculture will have to cope with the burden of climate change.

The IPCC has documented the likely impact of climate change on agriculture in great detail. If temperatures rise by more than 2C, global food production potential is expected to contract severely and yields of major crops may fall globally. The declines will be particularly pronounced in lower-latitude regions. In Africa, Asia and Latin America, for instance, yields could decline by 20-40%.

In addition, severe weather occurrences such as droughts and floods are likely to intensify and cause greater crop and livestock losses.

Rapidly rising energy prices have created an added challenge for global food supplies. Rising fossil energy prices mean that agriculture will become increasingly important as a supplier to the energy market.

Important here is to understand that the potential demand from the energy market is so large that it has the potential to change the world’s traditional agricultural market systems completely.

However, for me in the short term, even more critical is likely to be the impact of the financial crisis on the availability of credit, which is widely recognized as one of the major constraints to agriculture development in the developing countries, the rationing of which is likely to be more serious than any interest rate effects.

The combination of falling agricultural prices and reduced access to credit may have a knock off impact on agricultural production, with very serious implications for the global food security.

For instance, a cutback in grain plantings against the background of continuing low grain stocks, which have not been rebuilt since the high food price episode, would increase the risk of global food crisis if harvests turn out to be poor, especially if countries cannot access credit for food imports.

As a father, and perhaps just as basically a human... the future kind of scares me... these are not “predictions” of scare far fetched “greenes”... this are people I respect (albeit at different levels).

I guess this basically means that “we all” have a lot of issues to be dealt with ahead of us... but my usual optimism is quite dented... (all the hard data, figures and expansion on this issues can be found here

----
Perhaps related but not... I decided leave the UN in March 2009, basically for quality of life reasons... We haven’t gel with Italy... So no point to stay.... Luxury for me is not to be a UN diplomat and getting paid good money and live in a trendy roman suburb surrounded by 5 million people... Luxury for me is that Felix and Kika can walk to school and get to an empty beach at their will... Not even if I’m the secretary general of the UN I could do that here... in any case the common agreement i got with my bosses is that the working relation is not going to change, just the logistics of it (from employee to consultant, basically)

Jamaica

2008-07-04T04:58:00.007+12:00

Back in your youth when you are lost and trying to find identity either internally or externally, different people find different things and those things change over time, either in their nature or intensity... some people find sport, god, some type of music... I don’t know I guess it's some sort of posture that separates you from some and unites you with others.

At the time, I found the water (swimming, rowing, sailing - not yet surfing) and Jamaican music...

Which per se had an evolution... from Peter Tosh, Bob Marley and the Wailers, to Augustus Pablo to Dub... and the evolution of Dub... but basically those images of a music made by a composite of superseding rhythms involved in a laid back philosophy and a lot of dope, coolie weed, ganja, pot, maglione or what ever you choose to call marihuana... but perhaps the whole package of troubled/beautiful island in the Caribbean with that soundtrack associated to it that managed to develop it own cultural identity and exported revolutionary coolness in a way that perhaps only Brazil has done...

And that liking of its music and its pot association has lasted until my present.

So being offered a mission in Jamaica warmed my soul and expanded my smile... even if I would have loved to be there 25 years earlier...

I could write about the day to day shit... but going to focus on a few moments of the trip because those are the ones that I will remember the most.

Slaving and surf

One thing that struck me from the 1st day was the bodies and athleticism of most people... their bodies are sculptural...

As soon as I arrived I went for a small trip down to the south-east... among rural poor towns and every 3rd person looked like an olympic athlete or a model....

I stayed in a small hotel looking out to the open ocean... the kid of the owner told me that he goes surfing down at the beach and had an old long board if I wanted... the conditions weren’t so good... but then I hadn't been on a board for a long time...

The track down to the beatiful beach followed at some stage an old (very old) fort type place... once in the water I got a better perspective on its size and fortifications.... quite a scary looking place... the kid told me that it used to be a slave distribution warehouse... they used to arrive there and from there were distributed over the island... so I just floated there... looking at it... not even able to imagine the fucking horror and suffering that those today tree tacked walls have witnessed... it was really chilling... and a sensation I cannot remove from me...

Then the Darwinist coin fell... only the fittest of all could have survived the trip under those conditions.... and then life would have been as bad in the sugar plantations... so perhaps the strongest (and most beautiful?) had survived and they are the base of today’s population... it is just terrible to think like that... but I just cannot stop wondering if there is a awful truth in that... they are truly beautiful and cool people.

Augustus Pablo Rockers International

Not gonna go a lot into details on the guy, see wikipedia for that, but he and his brother Garth, kept a mythical record shack store going on Orange Street in Kingston... I went there... I was overwhelmed by stack after stack of small 9 and 12 inch vinyl... I just stared at them... knowing that it would take me days of indecision and a lot of weed to buy even one... so I did not buy anything and just sat there talking to an old Rasta about fishing while listening to unknown music.

Even fisheries inspectors are cool in Jamaica

Kingston middle class are initially “kind of embarrassed” about the reggae/ganja subculture... there is more to Jamaica then just that... as well as that, they are cynical about the Jamaica that the Americans get to know in the all inclusive resorts of the north coast (Montego Bay and places like that), but they were kind of puzzled by my knowledge of Jamaican dub labels and producers as well as my collection of music from Studio One...

So one night after they had a few beers I found my self sitting in between some old inspectors and laughing my head off, while these guys tried in disbelieve to enlighten a guy from Belgium who insisted in being explained what the steps are to dance reggae! I learned how to dance samba, so there must be steps for reggae...

And the inspectors were like.... no man (in the coolest accent)... there are no steps... you just follow the groove... u knaw... rent a tile in da floor... close your eyes... and just groove...

Of course... he did not get it... but these guys where so funny and telling me: ya man... explain him... dat u knaw... finally they told him off and we stay discussing the fisherman song of “the Congos” and why they respect (respect is “BIG word” in Jamaica) the NZ cricket players.

Rae Town in Kingston

It is obvious that Kingston has seen better days... when you see that the hospital has barbed wired fences and looks more like a prison... you know things ain’t cool... the ghettos are dangerous places to be no doubt...

But there is one day a week when there are no incidents... at least on a few blocks...

Every night there is a free street party in some neighbourhood in Kingston... each has its particular scene... and the local gang bosses make sure that nothing happens on their own or each other parties... and one thing that you need to do in Kingston is to go to a sound system, to any of the classic street parties... is really safe and hassle free.

How it works... A few blocks of a street are closed off. A DJ sets up a bank or two -- or three -- of giant loudspeakers. And the tunes roll. These days, sound system DJs mostly spin dancehall, heavy stripped-down beats with a rapper or a toaster chanting over the top.

But each Sunday in the neighborhood of Rae Town, you can go back in time.

Rae Town has been putting on this sound system for more than twenty years... it doesn't really get started until about one in the morning, the crowd grows slowly up to perhaps 1000 people.

Towers of speakers line the back of the sidewalk at key points, and people stand in front of the speakers but with their backs to them. This means there are two thick rows of people facing each other across the street, being blasted in the face and back by speakers playing music. Which in this case means everything from funk, to rocksteady and dub.

Teenagers to people in the 70s just dances or shuffle their feet on both sides of the street like heaving crowds at a parade.

There are no rules. People dress up or they dress down. Everyone is smoking and the rastas go around with the bags for sale and long sticks of buds at the equivalent of 1€.

Along the road is always someone with a cooler of Red Stripe beer, water and soft drinks.

Everyone is just having fun...

After my first half joint I’m in sensory overload.

Clothing styles are wide-ranging but definitely have not much upper limit on the flashy side, and some enormous dreadlock crowns.

A nice thing about the scene is the number of older people dancing –something I rarely see. I'm particularly taken with the older men with dreadlocks piled high and beards, standing and swinging, eyes shut, bending their knees and rocking out to the beat in a way I would love to do as good as he does.

The place is not flashy at all... open sewers, cables overhead and the homes are either covered with corrugated zinc sheeting, or surrounded by it.... but Rae Town is working class... not a slum.

And you do feel the community's solidarity... this is their party... and they are (and should be) dam proud of it.

I was by far the only white guy there... (a couple of girls with some semi locals cruised around)... and at any time anyone hassled me... the guys around me offered me fire for my joints... and I was dancing in my own heaven... a guy from St Lucia came and told me that he liked my dancing for a big white guy... with I appreciated and we had a beer and a chat...

Then the nicest thing happen... a local neighbour on his 50’s came and touched my arm and said something like... man... we turn this off in 20 minutes... so if you wanna get a taxi back home... this would be a good time...

I thank him... and went back to my uptown hotel with the biggest smile... feeling again blessed by life... feeling that I have been in one of the coolest events I would ever experience (under the way my brain works) and seen how far into good can we go... it was just music and people.... you don’t need more than that sometimes...

Some bad shit happens in Jamaica (like in the rest of the world), but some awesome stuff too... and Rae Town saved my youth fantasies and lighted my present.

Maximum Respect to the place

Montevideo... do not offend nor I fear

2008-05-28T00:56:00.007+12:00

I always liked Montevideo

It has its own identity and character, with is even more remarkable considering that has a monster like Buenos Aires very close.
Perhaps to the non discerning eye, the culture on both sides of the “Rio de la Plata” is quite similar... which is true in a sense...

However Montevideo remains much more herself, with a mixture of provincial town, big city culture, massive port, bohemia, tango, Spanish colonial architecture, just awesome meat grills, and an enormous waterfront “rambla” that never finish...

People is quite informal and friendly, not up to them selves... while being professional and effective.
Uruguayan music is very good and alive; there must be at least 20 theatres and 50 venues where life music always takes place, which is amazing for a city of 1.5 million people...

A quite unique style out of there is the “murga” ... which is a form of popular musical theatre... that is performed by a group of a maximum of 17 people, usually men dressed up with very elaborated costumes and each group will prepare a musical play consisting of a suite of songs and recitado (heightened speech) lasting around 40-45 minutes. This suite will be performed on popular stages in the various neighbourhoods, known as tablados.

Content is based on a particular theme, chosen by the group, which serves to provide commentary on events in Uruguay or elsewhere over the preceding year. Consequently, murga lends itself well to being used as a form of popular resistance.

The names are fantastic... but don’t traduce very well... my favorite: “the mushrooms tanners”... (curtidores de hongos)

Besides that, Montevideo maintained a strong African population in its “Barrio Sur” and is very common to see people just taking the streets on a Sunday with the drums and having a go while some old mamas have a dance... just for the fun of it... truly cool.

In any case, I love Montevideo, and really would love to live there for a while... and I love what is written in their cote of arms...
“con libertad no ofendo ni temo” ... “with Freedom I do not offend nor I fear”

see more pictures here

3 ports of India

2008-04-19T15:53:00.010+12:00

A lot of people I know have spent time in India... I cannot say that... for me India seems to be a universe of universes... each state is like a different country... I did not travel around as most I just spent 14 days in 3 ports and a day in Mumbai, over all this period I was only with locals (only seen non-Indians at airports), which was perhaps the coolest part of the trip.

Dhamara
This is literally the end of he road, true rural poverty... Orissa is one of the poorest states in India... Dhamara was done in the late 70’s to help the development of the area... a fishing port at the end of a 1 lane road along rice fields.

The main change since them is that there is a lot more of people now... (and they put a missile base in the near).

Getting there is a 4 hour trip from Bushaneswar... the trip confronted me with a whole new concept in anti-road safety. Motorways with everything from trucks to bicycles going against the traffic anywhere anytime, cows wandering around, busses with staggering amounts of cargo and people... absolutely incredible... beyond anything I have seen so far...

Dharama fishing port has been setup for a modification and working on that was my job there. Once there life takes another pace... the port is off season... so is the village/slum surrounding it... i stay at the port administration house inside the port (which is the only place to stay) and was a good way to see the day and night life of the place... the landings, the supplies, the shipyard...

The big event of the day was my morning run along rural roads along mud huts, people looking at you as if you were a alien... (why would someone run for sake of it?).

There is me, with my ipod and gear that is worth their annual income, running along paths in the mud, avoiding the poo of people along it... (no toilets, a BIG problem)

I could see death lurking around many of the people looking at me... Is not an easy feeling when you look into the eyes of misery...

Mumbai
I never took coke and acid at once... but I imagine that must be like my hours walk around Mumbai... I never been anywhere soooo busy. It beats Mexico DF (the busiest city I have been) by miles... is a whole new level!

The density of Singapore is 6500 people/sq Km... Mumbai as a whole has 18000... and in some areas goes up to 45000... (that must have been where I was)... It is a constant stream of people, three-wheelers, taxis, and more people, processions, drums, and a constant car horns... I just could not deal with it... I was feeling like a giant fist gripped my soul... I just went back to the hotel and waited for my flight to leave

Mangrol
Mangrol (in guyarat) is a true shit-hole... I really cannot say anything good about it... a fishing port designed for 200 boats in the 80s that now crams 900... what can you do? (except hoping it burns). Lowest standards in terms of fishing cosmos I have seen anywhere...

Diu
Here is a surprise... I always had “a thing” for former Portuguese colonies, they make interesting places (not always for the right reasons) but cools places anyhow. (think Brazil, Mozambique, Angola, Cabo Verde, Macao, Timor, and so on).
Goa was the only I knew about in India... but here is Diu... which has a MASIVE fort and very laid back feeling about it... no one is in a hurry... in some areas you could be in Lisbon (before the EU revamp)... see the pictures on a link below... fishing wise... not much

The food the people
I was travelling with 2 Indian local colleagues, very cool people and vegetarians... so I spend the 2 weeks eating with them...
I had things I have no idea what it was, and in places I would have not know existed without locals... and the food always was fantastic (the first week a bit to much of rice and dhal, that is all).

So... I didn’t see any worthwhile tourist attraction... but then I seen a slice of that universe called India that most not Indian would never grasp by living and dealing only with locals and it was a worthwhile experience.

For some of the pictures I took with my new Nikon D40x (I’m very happy about that) see this link

The sad note, on my last day in India... Vibeke’s father died back in Holland after a sad disease that melted him down... he went peacefully with Vib on his side...

Somehow Karachi

2008-03-14T04:43:00.016+13:00

Somehow I have always been hesitant to come to Pakistan... not a rational thing... Angola, El Salvador or the US are as dangerous (for different reasons perhaps), but anyway... I’m in Karachi, and if it is an organization to come with here, it has to be the UN, they take care after their own... every night I have a call from the security officer to see if I’m OK!

Seems that the more “worrying” the country, the more hospitable the people... it happen to me in Iran already... as here amazingly hospitable people.

My host is he director of the Marine Fisheries Department, a former Navy Captain that retired years ago to do a Masters in Public Policy, and you can see that he is strait as a stick, very unusual in the fisheries world.... he took the job 5 months ago, and actually he is the 1st one to admit he does not know much about fisheries, but he knows how to run public organizations... needles to say liked the guy immediately.

So far I have been hanging around boats in the fishing harbour.... Perhaps the most chaotic, polluted, filthy but as well active, crazy, and vibrant port I ever been (and I have been in a few).

How to explain.... put equal parts of a circus, a food safety expert worst nightmare, a ant colony, a really busy shipyard, a tea house, a polio+amputee+psychiatric hospital, a constant traffic jam, a 60’s psychedelic art studio, an orphanage, a truck workshop, plus other many things I fail to express, garnish with a LOT of dust... shake for 50 years of non maintenance... and try to imagine the result...

Roaming around with a camera would be quite stupid and dangerous... so sorry... only phone camera pictures...

The security situation is really rough.... for first time in my life I have followed the advice of not going to the streets alone... I even broke my golden rule of not eating in big hotels...

Getting into the hotel (that had already a big suicide bombing) feels a bit like one of those Iraqi road-checks you see on TV.
I commented to my host that I was quite surprised to see a big jail in the middle of town, but even more about the fact that was well painted... only to be respond with a huge laughter by him and the driver... whom w/out stopping giggling explain to me that in fact was the US consulate!

I was taken for 3-hour tour of the outskirts and the Old city... it must have been an outstanding city.... but that was many years ago...

Reality today is VERY grim in many parts of Karachi, many places look like the images we see from Afghanistan, Gaza or Baghdad, except that there was no war here... dust, open sewage, overcrowding, serious violence, and so on...

The road to the Karangi (another town near) fishing harbour, meanders along mangroves/rubbish dumps covered with crows and small children and fisherman living in the some of the worst conditions I have seen in my life anywhere... i felt out of breath, as normally I'm an optimist... but I really struggle to find any hope the situation they are... most of us (all of you and me) are truly fortunate fortunate people... incredibly fortunate...

It makes me understand fundamentalism better... If what I see, is your everyday reality... Then anything is better that that... When your days are so unkind, you just have nothing to loose, hence any promise of a better place, anything that takes your head out of reality... is a good one...

Therefore the security is more present than ever before for me... the good thing about working at this organization is that we all have blackberrys and get messages like the one below from the local security guy, that helps when you moving around.

Sent: Fri 3/14/2008 5:12 AM
To: Blaha, Francisco
Subject: Advisory for 14th March 2008

Dear All

Security Update:
A shutter down strike call has been given by Sunni Tehreek today to force the Government to expel the Danish Ambassador from Pakistan. Jammat Islami has also called for protest after Jumma Prayer on the same issue. The business community may join. Protest Marches are expected outside major mosques and at Numaish, Shah Faisal Colony, Saddar. No Significant violence anticipated. Cautious movement advised. All to avoid areas.

the day before

Sent: Thu 3/13/2008 8:14 AM
To: Blaha, Francisco
Subject: Advisory for 13th March 208

Dear All

Several Motorcyclists have been run over by a Bus at PNS Karsaz Shahrah eFaisal. In reaction angry mobs burnt that bus which caused traffic Jam and panic in the area. Staff advised to avoid general area.

This incident later on degenerated in looting and the burning of 2 government cars (just like the one I go around with)... and I guess as everyone is in the verge... things get completely out of control VERY fast

Every one I talked along the society says that General/President Pervez Musharraf should go... they are feed up with him and with his closeness to the US...

Everyone love talking politics... a well off guy a the sauna (a perk of staying at big hotels) told me: ... “the common factor of terrorism is the USA, see all he countries where there is terrorist attacks... they all have American troops on them... if the USA wants to win the –war on terror- they just have to stay home and stop messing around into others peoples countries”... I could not agree more.

But then all this security stuff is so incongruent with some of the views I also have of families in parks, the better off in clubs or in my hotel... the (at least for me) beautiful call to pray for the mosques, the unfortunately not well know gentility of Islam, the honest amiability of the people I meet... it puzzles me big time...

The real aesthetic treat... is the art in the buses, trucks and some fishing boats ... is just incredible.... I would love to buy one just to expose it... or get my car here to customize it... the guys take so much care in the paintings and layers after layers of adornments on it... the attention to detail is magnificent... no part is spare... man...painting the rims... fantastic... See the pics

In any case... this place is so vibrant but at the same time so looming that I cannot stop being fascinated by it.

The UN and Rome are not built in a day

2008-03-14T04:23:00.008+13:00

Taking a job at the Food and Agriculture Organisation of the United Nations (FAO) was kind of always on the cards... but never seriously... (they get an average of 120 applications per job)... so when i was offered a senior position there, we had a “mature” talk with Vibeke... and went for it... I wanted to try for professional an non professional reasons (back in 1988 I did a FAO run training that opened unimaginable doors in my future life, and my first job in development was consultancy for them).

I finish paying my mortgage back in NZ so i was ready for some change, Vib wanted to be closer to her sick dad, and we think would be good for the children to live in a big city for while... ergo... here we are

Rome:

Feels like Buenos Aires, which shows me the HUGE influence that Italians have over the city.

Of course... there are things 3500 years older and cars are tiny and new... but I can not stop relating them in my mind… I see a small car crash… and it was so similar... the stone paved street… the old trees… the gestures… the thumb that joins with the four fingers to form a pyramid while the hand rises up and down… the moccasinos, the jeans, the stripy shirt, the gelled hair back... the other cars passing for the side… the bus going off with the horn… the bystanders... the punters in the corner‘s cafe (there is one in every corner) chatting among them and adhering its comments (of course without moving their bums off the chair).

The city and its histories stacked above each other… literally… in many places the foundations are of a long past century and 200 years later the place was transformed with stones removed of other ruins, and later reconstructed again in the medieval period… and then it finalises reconstruction 100 yeas ago tto what you see today… at times is like to walk in a museum where lives people, with many pizzerias, cafes and ice cream parlours.

The great difference is that in Buenos Aires you have the city in a grid, and Rome is a spaghetti of streets that only locals understand… things change once you leave the walls of the old city and the world of the monoblocks begins which is quite depressive (as everywhere I imagine) that is where inhabit the remainder of the people that cannot pay the exorbitance of the prices of the city.

But the fact that I am going to work walking a street in which 3000 years ago another bloke like me, also walked to to face his day… is full on… from my office I see the termas of caracalla… I have my macchiato looking toward the circus maximus, the coliseum and the Roman forum… quite cool i have to admit…

Food:

Impressive and excellent… everyone knows about food… for example the bloke that came to install the phone... i asked him how you say kumara (sweet potato) in italian... and of course he knew, as well where and the best season to buy... the conversation stop because he got a phone call... one of many actually... he was home from 11 till 4.30 pm! and most of the time on it mobile... but now we have 20mb fast internet

Remarkably the city is full of small food business, salumerias, butchers, dairies, bakeries, stores that are of the size of a garage and they subsist based on the loyal clientele… there are supermarkets… but the percentage per capita is the lowest of Europe... you need to leave the city to see a big supermarket

Already I have an adopted family… they are the guys of the pizzeria around the corner… a cubicle where you eat standing up…" angeli and diavoli" … masters…. to do pizza at home never will be the same…

Work:

Uh… forms, hierarchies, image, e-mails, PCs, permissions, entry cards, index, forms (yes again), coffee in the eighth floor, salary, subsidy, UN passport, etc… all this is new for me… many times claustrophobic…

For example: my category is P4 s9 (they go from P1a P5 and of s1 to s12), so I have the right to a large desk with formica cover and 2 chairs without armrest, a library and a coat hanger, if i was P5 then my equally serious desk will have a wood cover and the chairs would have armrest… the P3 and P2 has the right to smaller desks, 1 chair (without armrest) and they do not have access to coat stands!

Outside those idiocies... I’m learning a lot of… there are always interesting courses around (climate change, property rights, sustainability indicators, and so on) and my work while similar to what i did before is in a wider spectrum… and i manage to mix managing programmes and being a foot soldier

The people… as everywhere i guess…. crappie people, some conceited and useless, but also many cool and efficient people with fascinating backgrounds, Norwegian that grow up in Ecuador and is married to a girl of Ivory Coast... Swedish that grow up in Liberia, a Chinese bloke that is completely Italian, Portuguese American that lived in Wellington, and so on… professionally you have the whole spectrum, some are like me that came for the experience and to see what’s up... to others whose ambition of life It is to do career in the system of the UN.

i pass from feeling like a martian, to be among peers several times during the work day. I suppose that I will get used to it… but so far I really do not I see my self being part of the system.

Said so, coming to Rome was a family decision, and so far I believe my family has adapted remarkably well (better than me perhaps). Felix is flourishing at school, Kika shines at Kindy, and Vibeke seem full of plans and enthusiasm... even so we all miss our little island in NZ.

See Vib's blogg (The sack of Rome) on our life in Rome for a more day to day perspective

last 10 months

2008-03-12T02:43:00.017+13:00

I know... I’m a terrible blooger... I just don’t have really big excuses... besides being busy, but overall procrastinating...

Has been along time... and some massive changes.... I don’t even live in my beloved NZ anymore!
So where to start...

Chronologically I been I a few places... spend most of the time in Malaysia which while fascinating in its diversity... but the somehow bland... and very bureaucratic! Not gonna write much about it... see the pictures...

Some short trips to Mauritius (very cool little nation), United Arab Emirates (suxs), Fiji+PNG (I like them with all its goods and bads and I have friends there), Jakarta Fishing Port (I had a good time mostly because I know people there), Vietnam (has lost its appeal to me), and Chile, which I really like.

Here are some random pictures.

The Absence and Mexico

2007-04-13T21:12:00.000+12:00

Well... plenty of excuses on why I have not updated the blog in long time... been very tired, busy, procrastinating, etc, etc...

Since September I went back to Ecuador, 3 times to Malaysia (I’m here now) and Fiji... While I owe Malaysia one blog (coming soon), the one on Fiji under coup will wait tom me been back there...

However I spend time in Mexico until last week... and Mexico kind of picked up my slack on writing again...

Mexico it always been appealing to me, so I jump on the opportunity for a job there.
Besides that I have a good friend living there, Alejandro whom I work in the Philippines (see earlier blogs) so it was great to stay at his place and see the city with his eyes...

You see, when you grow up in Latin America there are traditionally two cultural (movies, music, writers, dance, etc) poles, Argentina and Mexico.

Brazil is a odd case as it generates perhaps more than the other 2 combined, but the fact that they don’t speack Spanish makes a big deal of difference... but they are their own cultural market and they “export” a lot of it ... over he last few years Chile has raised its profiles by the hand of economical stability.

But Mexico is culturally so powerful that it has generated its own kind of universe, and you don’t see a lot outside Mexico and Latin America to a lesser extent. The recent “outings” of the Mexican movies and directors (Amores Perros, Y tu mama tambien, Nicotina, Babel, Charlote’s web, etc) is a welcome change, but even so... who in the non Spanish-speaking world has not heard about México?

And I guess that that exposure is as many things in Mexico part of the love-hate relationship with their northern neighbour... the US.

Mexican history is so amazing that it is almost bizarre... not going to elaborate... but as tastefull sample... how many places in the world can go from astonishing aboriginal cultures (and many of them!) to being briefly part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, via indigenous uprisings, revolutions, courtship with the French, and bloody scuffles with the “Gringos” (That have not finished yet!).

Mexico is so varied that I struggle on how to keep going...
Just think on Mexico City... “el DF”... at least 18 million people (and not just people... 18 million Mexicans!) all living in one place

Crossing the city on a good traffic day via the motorways takes 3 to 4 hours.

It generates (and consumes so much) so much that is just like being in a “tripping” constantly... the place just doesn’t stop...

What you want? Flying Indians, ranchero hiphopers, glam rockers doing bolero covers, dwarf mariachis, Tijuana electronic dance music... just to name a few that I had access... is all there... and there is way more that I have not seen for lack of time and/or cowardly excuses!

Is chaotic but it works... is madness but somehow is organised... and realising that trough the experience of being there is fascinating... and the best thing is that there is a constant soundtrack! There is always music... wherever you are! Is like being in a movie... but in reality... wherever you stop... you hear some music coming from somewhere... is just fantastic...

The job was cool but frenetic... I had to give seminars on Market Access Requirements and Sustainability in 7 cities in 7 days... with no much time in between them but was cool enough to give an idea of the idiosyncrasies of each state (Mexico is officially called “Estados Unidos Mexicanos”) and a good sample of the food... (Which comes second to the history in terms of variety and bizarreness...)

At the end of the day, besides the amiability of the people and in particular of my mate Alejandro, two things got branded in my mind

One is the Colour... it is just so much colour everywhere everything they do has (and needs colour)... I inundated my family with presents from Catholic Virgins frame in motorbike chains to full on bags with strident images)

The other one, which is more fascinating for me is that “repellent symbiosis” that they have with the USA...

Their lives and economies are so intertwined as their dislike for each other... the music, the arts reflect that so strongly... that impossible to ignore... The “Gringo go home... and take me with you” is such a present paradox...

While being such a proud and hardcore people (I saw a guy with a huge tattoo in Spanish meaning “Praises to good because I’m Mexican”) on the other side everyone has some one on the “other side”...

And for many to get there is to “having done it”... then there is two roads... denial of your origin by adapting your names and forgetting your roots (many names like Mick Rey where original Miguel Rey and so on).

Or a fight for rights and a “re-conquer” the culture there before the Grigos took their land (California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas where all Mexican territory. And of course the “racism” by the American redneckism that wants them out... even if that means that Indians or (oh my god!) African Americans would have to do the jobs.

On the other side... there is a whole generation of “Gringo” kids growing up under the care of Mexican nannies... so it will be an interesting future... In terms of understanding about the other side.

The one thing that strikes me negatively... was the total love of “provincial Mexicans” with HUUUUUGGGGGGEEEE American pick ups (utes) and I mean really BIG... I was driven around on a F-250 double cab 4x4 6liter V8 monster... and there where many...

No surprise I had empty blank looks when I talked of environmental considerations, sustainability.... but blunt disbelieve when big bloke like me talked about pansy things like the carbon footprint that air freighted product has and the impact on consumer choice...

I guess having lived for so long with Europeans made me a bit soft in their eyes!

Quito... (in Vib's eyes)

2006-12-16T23:54:00.000+13:00

Take it easy when in Quito.

One week after we arrived in Guayaquil where Francisco was figuring in an Aquaculture conference, we had all these plans for the weekend. We’d get to Quito after a short flight, Francisco would do an offical type meeting with a European Union representative and then we would check out the beautiful old city of Quito and have pizza at night.
We would go to Otavalo the next day and the day after that we would take a bus over the Andes or something adventurous and that’s how we’d get back to Guayaquil.

But we forgot.. that Quito is pretty high (in altitude) and that, when you get to Quito, your body has to get used to coping with less oxygen and that makes you feel.. very…tired. That’s all fair enough and easily explained, but when you’re four and a half years old, when you’re very.. tired.., stuff just doesn’t really run smoothly anymore in your brain and melt downs happen.

When parents are very tired as well, they don’t always realize straight away that four and a half year old brains with low oxygen supply need to be taken very seriously. Do not attempt to visit the Florence of South America with a very tired four and a half year old. (Imagine Stendhal syndrome mixed with altitude sickness) Give it some time to let things adjust.

We cut back on things to do and didn’t take busses over the Andes, we just hung out at the pool of our lovely sixties style hotel (Hotel Quito), had breakfast in it’s restaurant, called El techo del Mundo (the roof of the world)

We saw the smog build every morning over the city, did just a day trip to Otavalo and stayed another night in the old city and went to every single church in Quito Antiguo (Centro Historico – a UNESCO World Heritage Site). We chased pigeons on the 1590’s square of San Francisco and took a ride in a horse carrier. We went out after dark against the advice of the Lonely Planet and had dinner in a restaurant where music was provided by a trio of blind musicians.

Inside one of the countless churches in Quito Viejo, me and the kids watched a family celebrating the 15th birthday of a girl clad in a cloud of pink. They were celebrating her ‘Quince’ and all her girlfriends were dressed in lilac. Ave Maria creaked through the stereo. Behind us a family lined up for another celebration, something for two year old girls dressed in clouds of white. Kika was of course very interested in these little girls. I tried to imagine her dressed up head to toe in white fluff and lace. HAHA that wouldn’t last very long!

Outside the same church we watched this lady getting ready to mount the motorbikes with her baby on her back. Now safety standards in traffic (and anywhere else) are something else in South America, but more about that later. That she’s carrying her baby is traditional however in Ecuador.

In Ecuador we got many many stares and even comments because we carry our children in slings when we need to, in a similar fashion. Actually the most common way I’ve seen women do it is in a longer cloth, rebozo style I think it is, so the baby sits up on the back with the cloth tied criss-cross across the front of your body (will have to find you some pics to illustrate it). But all the women who do wear their babies are indigenous and if you’re anywhere near middle class in Ecuador you’re not supposed to do this anymore (I’ve heard the same in Mozambique). I think it’s seen as ‘country’, or worse because a lot of the street people, asking for money, seem to be babywearers. Not the best social stigma you can have for the product. That foreigners like me would wear their baby (or toddler because Kika is almost two and not small) is a new concept.
In Quito we met a girl with her partner and their 6 month old baby who stood there with sore arms from holding the baby at a dance/music performance (she had a stroller but the baby obviously didn’t want to be there) and he told her: YOU SEE! You shouldn’t be embarrassed! Then Francisco broke the news to them that people pay more than 50 dollars for dulce&zoet slings in New Zealand. Of course that’s just plain hilarious!

You need a four wheel drive at Lagunas de Mojanda!

We went to Otavalo to buy some touristy stuff and see something of the country side. Someone in Guayaquil who Francisco worked with new someone in Quito who sometimes takes tourists in his car for trips. So after some calling around Ricardo showed up in his white car, of which he was very proud. Sorry for complying with any stereotype you might have of girls and cars, but of course I only remember that it was white, and not what type it was.

Francisco makes it a habit not to take the same road twice and had spotted a lake in a guide which would make the perfect detour. Without a map or a sign, after some asking around we found the road up the mountain and climbed all the way to cold laguna de Mojanda.

The road got gradually worse however and then it got bumpy and we got ourselves stuck a few times and it got very dusty and Ricardo became very nervous, but he just kept going.

Then a few more bumps and me and Francisco started wondering if Ricardo really knew what he was doing, or if we really knew what we were doing. In the end Francisco had to climb out of the car and coach a very nervous Ricardo out of a few precarious situations and it took some time for him to recover his nerves. Enough already we said! I didn’t feel like getting stuck next to a desolate Andean lake on an unsignposted road in a country where nobody bothers to put up roadsigns or warnings that say: Four wheel drive only.

That’s why I’m telling you now, if you want to go to Lagunas de Mojanda, take a 4 wheel drive. Oh and a warm top. And something to drink and to eat. We turned around and went all the way down the mountain again.. the same road. Ricardo then made this classic comment: I feel like I’ve been having an affair with a woman on the side but it didn’t work out and now I have to go back to the wife with my tail between my legs. Haha. That’s straying of the beaten path in Ecuador.

We did see a lot of roses along the way! And had bizcochos with dulce de leche. Returning to Quito we got stuck in 6 pm Friday afternoon traffic in Quito in the rain. A very claustrophobic situation, but a great adventure nonetheless.

This is all for now as this blog needs to be published before our trip to South America is over. I haven’t even told you about Halloween in Chile and finding out I’m not even married to Francisco in Argentina. (Is Maxima even married to Willem Alexander in that case?)

Guayaquil... (in Vib's eyes)

2006-12-10T16:00:00.000+13:00

Francisco asked me to guest blog about our family sojourn into South America.

He was already in Ecuador finishing a month of work when I got there end of October with Felix (4) and Kika (almost 2). I travelled from Holland via Madrid and Quito to Guayaquil. You have to excuse me that a lot of the time my focus is on travelling with young children because if I can’t keep them happy, everything else stops.. As I understand that this is sometimes a bit tedious for those of you not in that ‘frame of life’, I’m starting a separate blog about travel with young kids, where I can elaborate to my hearts content about the ins and outs and ups and downs of travel with under fives.

In Ecuador, the people you see on the billboards advertising fast food, or on the outside of huge new looking malls do not look at all like the people in the cars driving past them (nor do they look like the people walking on the streets, between the cars selling stuff)

The people on the billboards are blond and have blue eyes. But the people of Ecuador (the actual consumers) look something like this:

Francisco says that apparently many ecuadorians think that they look like Europerans. Only when they come to Europe they realize that they don’t.

For a minute I wondered if this was something like the relatively high proportion of Jamaicans in New Zealand commercials. You’d think by watching tv ads in NZ that a huge part of the population is of African descent and speaks with a Jamaican accent.

Now I think it’s more like what Kiran Desai said in an interview I read in Holland in October, how a very large proportion of the population of this world grow up thinking that the place where they are, is not the place to be and that they should strive to leave.
Somehow that sounds very familiar, isn’t that how we’re all sometimes made to feel? Or is that just me?

Guayaquil
What to do with a waterfront? On our first weekend in Guayaquil we hung out at the Malecon!
(if you live in Auckland this may be interesting
http://publicaddress.net/default,3708.sm#post3708)
(if it can be done in Guayaquil?.....)

Guayaquil is the biggest city in Ecuador and suffice to say that most people in Ecuador do not belong to the worlds lucky eight percent
Still, guayaquilianos realized something.. a good public space can save a city. With the Malecon a space was created that people were proud of and that they actively use in their daily lives.

I have a thing for public spaces because in Auckland they somehow don’t quite seem to work, but I sorely miss the good European ones. A good public space makes you want be there and hang out. I’ve taken trains across continents just to be in famous public spaces. They don’t involve Mac D’s and don’t have cars, that’s one thing I know for sure.

The Malecon 2000 in Guayaquil a strip of public space of 4 kilometers long, meticulously paved, it has gardens, art, fountains parks, playgrounds, exercise areas, restaurants, several open air food courts, monuments and morphs itself past two art galleries, an imax cinema and ends at the Cerra Santa Ana.
The Malecon is constantly positively humming with the people of Guayaquil. Old and young, rich and poor… People come here during their time off with the entire family, with their boyfriend or girlfriend (novio/novia), they come here to see and be seen, to eat icecream, to play and to hang out. I think people need a place to play.

I have to point out that the Malecon is ONLY possible in Ecuador because every ten meters there’s a uniformed and armed presence.

Me with Kika in my sling on the Malecon on a Sunday afternoon..
Note.. the tidal river delta of Guayaquil does obviously NOT have pretty blue water like in Auckland.

Something to do for the kids, for only fifty cents a go.

Some more fun for fifty cents.

Some green, some benches to hang out on. Some iguana’s in trees, some ducks to feed.

Some art to stand between.

What else do you need?
The malecon became one of our favourite places to go in Guayaquil.
You can watch people and let young children run without there being the immediate danger of traffic running over them.
For fifty cents you can make the kids INCREDIBLY happy by giving them a ride in a silly train.
And even at 11 o’clock at night, when I was besides myself with jetlag and passed out, Francisco could take the kids for a run (their bio clock obviously told them it was 8 o’clock in the morning) and a play on the Malecon and it would still be buzzing with friendly life.

The Malecon then ends at the Cerro Santa Ana, which is a little hill covered in tiny houses that seemed to have grown on it, leaning on top of and next to each other like in a Hundertwasser picture. Not so long ago it was apparently a no-go slumzone and now it has all been done up in many freshly painted colours with hundreds and hundreds of steps taking you up and down past people running tiny businesses in their front rooms or just hanging out talking about Dutch football (an ecuadorian player is the current star of PSV Eindhoven). People have been stimulated to start these businesses and it’s now a place safe to go because there are guards and people of the Cerro get paid to help keep the place clean.

Nice one Guayaquil.

Mmhhhh.... Berlusconi or Chavez?

2006-10-17T17:22:00.000+13:00

Shite... imagine if that are your choices for the president of your country for the next 4 years... welcome to Ecuador!

The elections here were different from what I expected, based in my Latin-American experience... 13 candidates, and 2 went on... and pretty much at the extremes of the spectrum... and no party/carnival atmosphere as it happens in the rest of the continent.

The stage
Ecuador has just 13m people and a $40 billion economy and the elections went for a new Congress and part of the provincial and municipal legislatures as well as the presidency.

Enter Mr Correa
Here is good line that says a lot: After Mr Chávez compared George Bush to the devil Mr Correa wondered whether the devil would take offence.

He opposes a free-trade agreement with the United States, even though neighboring Colombia and Peru have each signed one, and intends to shut the American military base in Manta. He threatens to follow Argentina's example in defaulting on Ecuador's $10 billion foreign debt, the third such default in little more than 20 years. Mr Correa's victory, many fear, would push Ecuador into the club of Latin American countries that revile the United States and use the oil revenues to defy economic gravity.

He is a “fresh” option because Ecuador's political and economic system has been so thoroughly discredited. Street protests have toppled three presidents in the past decade, most recently in April 2005, when Lucio Gutiérrez was thrown out. Political parties are little more than fronts for the business interests of their leaders. The courts are regarded as creatures of the same oligarchs, who plunder the budget and state-owned companies such as Petroecuador, the country's biggest oil company. “We want total change,” says one of the blokes I work with.

Correa means to deliver it by summoning a constituent assembly “with full powers” to sweep away the “dictatorship of the parties”. He has already made it difficult, should he win, to govern within the traditional political framework. He has fielded no congressional candidates, although the tiny Socialist Party backs him. Congress is thus likely to be dominated by the political parties he intends to destroy. The problem is that if he makes it, how hard will the old order strike back?

No one really know what sort of president he would be, he is quite articulate, I followed is discourse over the time... interesting at the beginning, but totally discredited over the last days...

The guy is smart, he has PhD in economics form some American University, and was last year plucked from obscurity as a professor at a private university to be economy minister under the outgoing president, Alfredo Palacio. As in Venezuela, oil fattens the revenues of Ecuador's government, he became a popular hero by dismantling a fund meant primarily for paying debt in order to boost social spending and was soon forced out (under pressure from Ecuador's foreign creditors, his defenders allege).

He is not really like Chavez, but that is the image that opposition wants to portray, to start he is not (and has never been) a military, he is a devoted catholic (not being catholic here would be political suicide anyway), he worked for a year a s a voluntary in a school in the highland, so he speaks quechua (the main aboriginal language) and that was a killer point for his mountain voters, as well as English and French (did a post grad in Belgium, and is married to one).

He is quite pragmatic as well, while he opposes Ecuador's use of the dollar as its currency, which has brought low inflation, but does not plan to stop it. The constituent assembly, he suggests, will strengthen democratic institutions rather than undermining them. He wants to “depoliticise the courts”, conduct a “deep reform” of the government bureaucracy and have congressmen elected by district rather than by province, making them more accountable to their electorates.

The masses like that, but the problem is that Congress will resist Correa's call to drown itself in his constitutional deluge. The army, still the final arbiter in Ecuadorean affairs, is likely to take its side.

Correa does to appeal to the people, but they will follow only so far, Ecuador's are sustained in part by the middle class. Conditions are wretched. Despite years of oil-fuelled growth, more than half the population lives below the poverty line; a similar proportion is underemployed or jobless. Yet Ecuador's unrest is provoked less by deprivation than by anger at a grasping elite. That has fed Correa's support but may also put limits on it. If elected, he may not last long.

His victory is far from certain. He got far, but some are turned off by his radicalism, and some would be surely go the other way, based in his resentment and full on paranoia after the results of the election... he claims fraud, and that everyone is against him... he may loose not by the merits of the opposition, but against a anti Correa coalition...

Enter Mr Noboa
This guy is soooooo unappealing.... honestelly he has serious problems coordinating his hands movements and his speech... small and fluffy, he looks more like a character that never made it to the tele-tubbies than a president...

His dad was the richest man Ecuador, a self made guy, a banana magnate, with scores of other companies... but this guy does not has the best of brains... he ran for president twice before, and now has run a sickening and flagrantly populist campaign. Proclaiming himself “God's messenger”, (for real!) he distributes T-shirts in poor villages, promises jobs and housing and ministers to the sick with his “Álvaro Noboa Medical Brigade”, get on his knees to pray for the health of old ladies carefully “appearing” on his way... Many suspects that his clearest vision is of the welfare of the banana trade, and fear a banana republic.

From his policy perspective he promotes enterprise, investment and trade, all of which Ecuador’s oil-dependent economy sorely needs, and of course, he embraces big time the free-trade agreement with America. But the big worry is how “Albarito” Noboa would reconcile the presidency with his extensive business interests. Rather than resolve the inevitable conflicts of interest, many Ecuadoreans fear that he intends to follow Italy’s exp president Silvio Berlusconi in using his businesses to promote his political ambitions and vice versa. That mix of private and political gain is exactly what Correa has campaigned against.

So next month Ecuadoreans, (as Peruvians before them) have to chose in between the less of two extremes... or as a taxi driver today told me... is like I have to chose in between cancer and aids....

On Galapagos, Fisheries and DLT

2006-09-06T16:40:00.000+12:00

I guess this has been the year of speaking Spanish for me.... I have been to Ecuador 3 times and going for 4th one... quite bizarre... I have not worked in Spanish before and here I’m restructuring the way a country gives their “official guarantees” regarding their fisheries.

The last trips weren’t much fun... the 1st month (May) was writing a huge document in an office... and the 2nd month there (July) I was explaining it and getting consensus on implementation.

Quite challenging and boring actually, at least during July I had the chance to get around factories and boats... but the highlight was a trip to Galapagos.

As you most know, I’m a biologist, and if I wasn’t doing fisheries, I’ll be doing Evolution, Socio-biology and Theoretical Biology... So far I have not seen any biological or cultural system/organism that at its basics do not behaves under the postulates I learn trough biology and which evolution isn’t condition by neo-Darwinism and associated ideas...

This blog is not to discuss the merits of evolutionary biology, (read Dawkins, Wilson, Maynard Smith, and others) but about the place where Mr Darwin, based on its reading of Maltus, Smith, Wallace and so on, kind of condensed those ideas with the realities he witnessed in this very particular place... the Galapagos...

I believe that the sense of remoteness is exacerbated by the topography and biogeography of the place... I been to more remote places (Minerva Reef, or Palmerston and Suvarov in the Cooks)... but they kind of look like other places... but I never seen anything that look like the Galapagos...

Very young and very old at the same time, tropical jungle and volcanic driedness separated by 25 km... a bizarre collection of indigenous animals, the most pristine water with the most diverse and abundant marine life... and I guess a whole lot of problems...
It has his fair share of complexity, is at the same time an National Park, Ecuador’s newest province, home of a similarly bizarre collection of exogenous human inhabitants... from aboriginals from the coast, Spanish sailors to all sorts of outcasts during the pirate and whaling years, to Americans during the war, to Swiss, German, Swedes and Norwegians settlers during the 50’s, Feudal barons in the 1900, Taiwanese tycoons, the openly gay restaurant I have seen in Ecuador, 60’s hippies, ex uber corrupt ministers, ... very weird collection there...

Then the park with a sustainability analysis for handling 40000 tourist a year is actually receiving 120000... and a traditional fisherman culture that is being constricted by the lack of a market exposure, the needs for preservation, the lack of control of foreign fleet, the corruption induced by the rich sport fisherman, and lately the influence of NGOs and “green hero” driven organizations like the SeaSheppard...

So where I start... a fair picture of the wildlife would be that perhaps with the fact that beside surfing the empty white beaches of Isla Isabella, (I took my surfboard with me), with sea lions and manta-rays, I walked out of the water with 1 meter long a marine-vegetarian iguana and a tropical penguin... to later sit on the sand while checking out birds with blue feet, pink flamingos and turtles the size of a quad-bike.

To later get up an almost moon like landscape into the slopes of a volcano that as you get up becomes a dense rain forest (due to cooling of the humid sea air that produces this “belt” of rain), to keep going up into the 2nd biggest crater rim in the world and then into the latest eruption area, a mere 4 years old with no life at all... and then coming back to eat freshly caught goat meat...

The biodiversity related problems are huge, many of them related to the introduction of foreign fauna; goats (hence the cheap meat), donkeys, rats, dogs and cats becoming feral, and as well as a lot of plants, mostly a guava look alike...

And of course the pressure of people, only 10 years ago the government started with immigration and tough land law enforcement...

On the fisheries side, the problem is quite hard... and so are the actors involved on it... there were basically no rules, but then the “fishing effort” (impact of fisheries measured on # of HP, hooks, nets, people or other units, in one place at one time) was little... population grows... so does the effort... but then... there is the vital issue of: “what do you catch, for whom and how does it get there”...

At 120000 tourist a year + local population, you’ll be feeding around 15000 people a month... so the local market has its demands... but to a point...

Next: when you fish commercially you have roughly 2 options, niche (high value species, low volume, normally fresh fish, live lobster, etc transported by plane) or bulk (low value species, big volume, normally frozen and sent in containers), the common issue is the availability of good logistics and transport. Fast cargo turnaround and the possibility to maintain containers frozen while waiting cargo...

The Galapagos are 3 hours by plane and 3-4 days by sea form the mainland... Energy is produced by diesel generators... and the infrastructure quite minimal... so whoever wants to export has a hard time in terms of knowing that their product is gonna make it to destination in good condition... plus selling fish is competitive and requires a good marketing structure... so the outlook for local fisherman is bleak...

On top of that and most importantly... there is no resource assessment (how much fish is there), no capture limits/control, neither ownership of the resource by either individuals or groups.... so nobody really cares about sustainability, because if I don’t catch it, someone else will... for example: even if there was a ban on the capture of lobster, you still find it in all food joints...

And if that wasn’t bad enough... enter shark-fining and dried “beche-de mer” (sea cucumbers)... dried sharkfins and sea cucumbers can be maintained anywhere for any period of time... they don’t need much infrastructure neither legality... the market (mainly China) does not give a shit from where they come... so that makes them “perfect” for places like the Galapagos and the pacific islands (same happens in Fiji, Tonga, Solomons, PNG and so on).

And the shark fining business is big international money, which does not combine well with poor and corruptible control authorities... hence there are internationally flagged boats and local fisherman catching sharks on theoretically protected waters...

What to do? Million dollar question... there are various ways and none is easy... unfortunately most people try the less successful and useful... prohibition... without going in deep on why prohibiting something does not work... just think drugs and in particular pot... don't we have 70 years of worldwide organized, international, multilateral, multi-religious, multimillions spend efforts...

And still there... if it does not work for pot how we expect it to work for fish... (ironically enough prohibition is mostly push by the NGO and political parties that have pot decriminalization as part of their agenda)... most people with a brain agree that prohibition is the wrong way to deal with drugs... same goes for fish in my opinion.

It should be about education, empowering, involvement, co management and giving the fisherman incentives for preservation instead that only for capture...

Who is the bad guy? the guy that catches the shark or the people that buy the fins? if the Galapagos fisher stops catching fish... what does he do... the chinese buyer would keep buying form somewhere else... you don’t fix a problem by cutting the offer, but by educating and diminishing the demand.

There I was, in the fisherman cove in Puerto Ayoras, just before leaving the islands after a week of intense sun and no shaving, talking to the local of how much participation the had on the management of the resources, what alternatives they are for commercialization of high value species, vertical longlining and size selectivity, when a well known conservacionist from the Sea Shepperd organization (famous for sinking und ramming whale boats) came over with the crew of a French TV chanel to use us as a background for an interview, as their focus has moved from whales to shark finning... and while agree and respect his convictions and good intentions, I disagree with his methods (never really like vigilantes)

Anyhow he rightlhy mention the corruption and lack of resources of the local patrol boats, to the foreing vessels activities... but then slammed the local fisher for the lack of understading and care for their enviroment and so on.... so I was translating all this to the fisherman and their weren’t impressed...

so at some stage I just got up and told them that it was only fair to have the opinions as well of implicated, so they should talk to the fishers and listen their version... while efforts and support should be given to the local control operations... big part of his efforts and media attention should be based in China, on diminishing the demand... but then is obvious that being in Galapagos is nicer and fits better the “green hero” cult... beside his surprised, he did not took very well my intromission.

But then the fishers had a go on the interview... and the issue was clear... if I don’t fish, what I do? I’m a fisher and this is the only thing I know how to do... Turism? I don’t speak languages, neither have the education the employers want... what can I do? why shark fins and “beche de mer”, because is what most money brings... simple capitalism... and if I don’t catch some one else will...

Ergo the solution is not easy... but it has to involve diversification, co-management, access to markets, property rights and constant evaluation on the resource, training,... and all those things that I work on... for me the big problem is not “fishing”, it when people stop talking about “fishing”... at the end we all want the same, just by different ways and that is “to have enough fish” for whatever reason moves us...

I remember always the 1st rule of ecotoxiclogy, that says “the risk is on the dose, not the substance”... or as beautifully put by MC DLT many years ago... “too much of anything makes you a sucker”

Loss(t) in Banda Aceh

2006-04-05T15:24:00.000+12:00

While sitting in the airport waiting for my flight back home, I’m kind of starting to recapitulate on the last couple of weeks, what I did, what I have seen, the people I meet, the organizations there, the history and the stories of the place...
I haven’t done disaster and emergency relief work before, it has been more development and strengthening (to avoid disaster at least in the fisheries sector?), anyway... point is that I have not been in a disaster area before...

The 1st impression was rough... in various aspects... the initial was the feeling of overkill in terms of assistance... I wasn’t aware that there were soooooo many NGOs, UN agencies, bilateral agencies, and so on... from the World Food Programme, via the red crosses of 20 countries to the “firemen without borders” (yes... for real)... Apparently since the Ethiopia crisis of the 80’s there wasn’t a reaction of this scale in ages...

Why? A few factors I guess... the tsunami was at xmas, it was on TV... people saw the waves coming, people dying... it happened in a predominantly Muslim region in an age of guilt over the “war on terror”, and so on... but overall... perhaps simply because the scale of devastation is just incredible...

Not going to repeat the news... but imagine villages where the rate of mortality was 90%... if you where lucky to survive... then from every 20 people you relate to... only one more still alive... the overall sense of loss must be indescribable... let say you lost you family or your house or both... at least there would be references to help you move... your neighbourhood, your corner, your friends, your music, you café shop... but imagine if where your life was... now there is NOTHING... I really mean that... perhaps only the concrete floors of what was once your world...

All other things and people disappeared in 10 minutes...

An estimated of over 80,000 people died with the first 3-4 waves... another 40,000 in the days after from all possible causes... Big fishing boats on roofs... bridges whose concrete “handrails” where torn off, leaving only the bare steel, trucks been tossed around like toys, a huge merchant barge in the middle of a neighbourhood 1.5 km from the coast... 500 kg rocks in the middle of a classroom... There are thousands of orphans, they were held on a hill outside town were parents would go and look for lost children... many of them waited there for weeks until hope just could not sustain anymore... everyone I meet has lost someone...

A year later there are still people living in tents and trying to rebuild their life with the help of the foreign invasion... Banda Aceh as a city is never going to be the same, apart from the tsunami destruction, the city is literally invaded by aid organizations and westerners...

I guess before I keep blurbing about this, is fair to explain that Aceh is a very particular place, a Muslim stronghold with a very long story of independence and resilience...

Since the thirteenth century AD, if not before, Islam is key to this place, Aceh became a main launching point for Southeast Asian Muslim pilgrims to Mecca, mingling together cultural influences from India, Persia, Arabia, and Malaya, as well as becoming a center for Islamic learning during the Acehnese ‘golden age’ under the rule of Sultan Iskandar Muda (1607-1636).

It remained a fiercely independent Sultanate for almost 500 years, and Dutch colonial control was extended to Aceh only after a miserable war beginning in 1873 and lasting 40 years. The Dutch never actually ‘pacified’ Aceh, fighting almost continuously for 69 years until they withdrew in 1942, claiming a total of at least 40,000 troops (more Dutch soldiers died here then during WW2!); the more than 100,000 Acehnese killed in these colonial wars were considered Holy War martyrs. In the local museum is a picture of a village ransacked by the Dutch and you see a whole pile of bodies and soldiers posturing with a boy they kept alive for some reason...

Then they had the Japanese occupation (1942 to 1945), which was even more brutal and still hinders the work of the Japanese NGOs here, and when Indonesia declared it’s independence on August 17, 1945, Aceh became the first Indonesian region that was independent de facto. But then they kept fighting for political autonomy for a few years more, and General Suharto came to factual power in 1966, and started channeling the local oil and gas revenues to Jakarta.

So enters the Acehnese National Liberation Front (ASNLF), better known as GAM, (whose leader Tengku Hasan M. di Tiro, was formerly a strong supporter of the Indonesian nationalist idea and Indonesian Ambassador to the UN during the 1950s), and the fighting went on between the Indonesian Central Government and GAM. Only until pushed by the disastrous consequences of the tsunami, the Indonesian Government and GAM signed a peace agreement on August 15, 2005. Over the last 20 years to come here you needed a “special permit” which was very complicated to get.

Given this background, when you live and work in Aceh, you’re dealing with a society where war has hardly had any break over the last 6 generations. The fact is, Acehnese people were traumatized long before the Tsunami happened.

With this background... let me give you an example... imagine a non descriptive little provincial capital in your country with a history of independence and relatively isolated ... for NZ let say Whakatane... and imagine that in 2003 the number of Indonesian living there was 60, then there is freak event of nature that wipes out ½ of the city, a year later you have 2000 Indonesians roaming the city in the biggest 4WD and cars you can imagine, paying ridiculous amounts for rentals, covering the city with satellite dishes, wandering around with Islamic gear and all women wearing headscarves...

Hopefully you get the point... the place is completely upside down... and then besides having to deal with trauma, completely “non muslim” strangers... the place still full of surreal images such as this huge barge that floated all the way from the harbour and now is in the middle of a neighbourhood 3 km from its original emplacement (and is no way it would ever come back!)

But in spite of that... I was received with smiles in 90% of the place I went... and that is mostly because the type of people who come and do this type of work... for example: Erica a cool lady I meet has a maintained a blogg about living in Aceh... she has been there since December and has good insights.

There are some people working there that I have absolutely nothing in common with, (as in every environment) but then a serious chunk of them are very courageous and plainly good hearted... their “office” is in Sudan massacres, Pakistani earthquakes, Bolivian landslides, name it... very cool people putting their life aside for what they love doing.... for the few rewards their job gives...

But as well very genuine and lonely people... this job is a relations killer... long absences never helped... and on top of that you are emotionally drained by the constant suffering around you... I never seen such a cool bunch of people... so lonely... is very touching... don't get me wrong, you start conversation on very usual things... but then when you get to the personal parts... they are normally overload... your love (if you have one), your friends are all very far... this job is couple killer... and the situation is most difficult for woman... they are so good at the job, very committed and professional... more than most men in my opinion... but seems that solitude is the price to pay for being and independent and driven woman... very unfair...

And then forming a relationship with other people like you is unfortunately really difficult... they are mobilized to different places constantly... so you found someone who understand you... but then you walk different ways... I felt constantly to give people big hugs... all that makes me value my family and relationship with Vibeke even more... man I love her... she is the best.

What was I doing?... I was asked by a project of the German Development Agency (GTZ) to help with the definition of a strategy and areas of work for the reactivation of the fisheries and aquaculture sector, while trying to avoid former fuckups under a “rebuild better” principle... and when you think that 80% of the fishing fleet was destroyed, 60% of the shrimp farms are useless and worst of all, 50% of the fisherman are dead... there is quite a lot to be done... they liked what I did, which was very rewarding, and they want me back as they would be working there until end 2007.

Anyway... hopefully I did not depress and bored you... and if I did... well sorry... you should not have read it until the end... I may be writing this more for me, in order to digest the last couple of weeks, than for any other reason...
Enjoy what have and keep what you think are your problems in a real perspective...

Splore@40+

2006-03-07T23:04:00.000+13:00

Backstage at Splore festival
Originally uploaded by mundo-francisco.

Sunday 6 am... I’m inheriting the last standing people that came out of the DJ area...

Hits my head to see that those girls dancing in front of me are ½ my age at least...

On the other side, I’m sure that they haven’t heard this tune never before... the advantages of travelling (and having money to buy music)... it is a cool feeling to chose what to play and have people enjoying it...

I remember on my 20s seeing “older people” coming to parties and feeling odd... kind of like... shouldn’t you be with people your age?... I’m the older guy now... and I’m very conscious about it...

But then as I was told by young DJ Nick, the people that we see as “ridiculous” are those that are trying to join the ‘Scene” now... you actually never left it... I wish I would be invited to play at parties at your age!

I wanted to hug him... even if he is not right... and just being nice.... it feels good to hear him saying that...

As good as it feels to play in front of a crowd and “sense” that they are having a good time... even if I spend most of the 3 days of the festival enjoying family life with Vibeke and the children and missed a lot of acts I wanted to see... but then... I saw many people I have not seen in ages (it was more than 4 years since Mano Paco played in a festival!).

Kika got to meet the band (Ghost Tones / Sugarlicks) that is responsible for her 2nd name (Irie from “Irie is everything” the song that was playing whe she was born). When they play the song in the main stage, it was dedicated to her, it was a cool moment...

Overall... I’ll enjoyed... and do it again... even if I feel that I should be playing in the 40+ area

Ecuador Crossing

2006-02-02T16:46:00.000+13:00

I jumped at the opportunity of working in Ecuador, after having done some awfully boring work in NZ and gone trough the always kind of stressful process of buying a house, moving (mostly taken care by Vibeke), enduring Xmas and having my 1st back pain in over 2 years!

I have not yet worked in my present speciality, in Spanish, which is after all my mother language. I knew that the job would be special, and it is....

Ecuador (Equator in Spanish) is kind of mystical country... (there is no country called Tropic, for instance)... Outstanding coastline with fantastic surf on its west, rugged Andean mountains on the middle and Amazonian rainforest on the east... 9 different ethnic groups from is aboriginal population (from pseudo Polynesian looking people in the west, passing by Inca types and full on painted Amazonians, plus the earliest Chinese immigration in Latin America, Lebanese, Mediterranean, Germans... and so on... but the aboriginal component is socially strong...

Quito (the old part) is time travelling to the Spanish colony time, incredible... the place has been preserved pretty much as it was in the 1600-1700 period... absolutely outstanding... Latin-Americans don not have the best urbanity rules in the world and to see this was refreshing...

Still painfully latinamerican in way to many ways... the mess of the country politics in general and the fisheries sector as a consequence, is a sometimes tough reminder of what it was my reality before I emigrated...

Scientists with ½ their heads trying to do their jobs, and the other ½ trying to navigate the pitiful political storms inside their institutions...

I feel like exploding when I see that the power fight in between the people of the National Directorate of Fisheries for the job that is actually done by the Fisheries National Institute... this is putting in jeopardy the market access of the local fisheries into the EU (over 500 million USD a year and the livelihood of over 1.5 million people).... on top of that there is no resource control neither a real fisheries management strategy...

Ecuador is actually a "big fish" in the fisheries world... i really could not believe the state of the sector...

Outside those issues... it is cool... I like to be here... is great to be aware of all that happens around you... to understand the lyrics of all the songs... and latin American music is very funny... and this is full on Cumbia and Reggaeton land.

The team I’m working is cool, full on efficient woman at the driving seats... (seems to be the constant in the projects that do something useful)... the head of this EU programme (ExpoEcuador) is a surfer, so we are off this weekend on a "work trip".

Then I’m off next Monday, back to Chile... then I’m off to see my dad in Argentina for 5 days (I have seen him only 3 times in 11 years, which is not right). Then back to Auckland just in time for playing at Splore... and to be with my family that I seem to miss more by the day.

Waiheke, the elections and my 40s

2005-09-15T20:06:00.000+12:00

I still find it hard to write about NZ.... I love NZ in a way that I wish I could love Argentina... NZ as given me everything I needed, and only asked me to do my job and be fair...

Nowehere else a person with no past, or future, like me 10 years ago, walking the streets without knowing not even one soul in the country and 300 bucks in my pocket, could today be in the position I’m now.

Every person in NZ came from somewhere else, escaping, wanting a new better life... if the 1st person born in NZ was still alive it would be around 900 old, their parents used a technology to arrive here that still be used today in many parts... the 1st European born in NZ, if alive would be around 200 years... that is only a few generations back... that is so unique... we all had the opportunity to make a better life...

But I don’t love NZ for only that, is much more that inspires me and makes me feel that I’m coming “home” every time I land in Auckland.

NZ was born by consensus, 2 very different people decided to make an agreement instead of keep killing each other as it was the way every where else at the time... that simple fact is unheard in any other history... if it wasn’t for that... we will be no different from Australia, and I have not meet any NZder that like to hear that...

Yes... the treaty was misleading, abused, non respected, whatever... all agreements have some of that... and as with a pendulum, when you forcibly keep it on one extreme, it would swing to the other extreme, but is only a matter of time until it find balance and works...

For me that mixture of origins is what make our country so unique... Jeff Wilson going completely off while doing the Haka before a game, Tane the Masterton maori guy I meet in Armenia that is doing his PhD in Soviet Engineering history... the success of a movie like the whale rider...

The fact that I treasure (even as a foreigner) that unique diversity is what made NZ my home and has rooted me to the country. Election time is bashing time in NZ... foreigners this and that, Maori this and that... the only positive outcome I see about the rednecks complaining about immigrants (like their forefathers!) not adapting to the local culture, not learning the language, abusing of the environment... is that finally they understand how Maori must have felt about their forefathers...

Taxes are important, and having money as well... but remember that Bush campaign was based as well, on tax cuts!

And that NZ I love is even more manifest, for me now that we moved to Waiheke, chill out, beautiful, with nice people, beach life, and 35 minutes from my twice-weekly dose of city and university. Felix and Vibeke are enjoying it big way... I’m very happy about having moved there...

And tomorrow (16/9) is my 40th birthday... big birthday the 40s apparently... mid life crisis... but so what... I still do radio shows, play in gigs, are the height of my professional career, making good money, extremely happily married to a beautiful and great woman, mother and friend, have two very cute and cool characters as children, dropping full moon surfs, swimming across bays, lucky enough to have fantastic friends from all ways of life and times ... and as my mate Niel here in Manila said... I still live in a world in which that guy who I don’t know anything about, that is working in a road repair in the most polluted and hot city in the world, whose life realities are so different to my ones while being stuck in the traffic in the back of a manila taxi... we still find the humanity and time to smile and greet each other... even if we never are going to cross paths again... I’m a happy man.

World Bank Paris Dub

2005-07-25T19:58:00.000+12:00

What ever you think about Paris, must be the city with the biggest personality and/or charm in world... whatever way you want to measure it... culture, museums, multiculturalism, wealth, beauty, music, bars, beautiful and horrible people, public transport facilities...

Is no way I could enjoy living here... But, is great for a couple of weeks or training under a scholarship!

And that is what I’m doing.... the World Bank organizes an annual course on “Environmental Economics for Development Policy”, you apply and based on some obscure standards some 30 persons from around the world get chosen... et voila... here I’m.

The main reason why I’m doing it is because I was in Europe anyway, and I got cheap flat to rent for the 2 weeks I’m here... Paris is just so incredible expensive... any form of dinner is at least from 20-25 to ∞ € per head in any restaurant... 2 cafés in Trocadero 9.20€!

However, the course very impressive, in all aspects... basically is about economics of regulatory decision making, how to calculate the values of natural resources, ecosystems, human and social capitals, and how to perform the cost benefit analysis of whatever regulatory instruments you are planning to use, and use that as a tool for the design of the most convenient method... we are discussing present issues; global warming, fisheries, deforestation, traffic and congestions, oil, energy, sustainability indexes, paradoxes, and so on... without going into details... the situation is VERY somber... even this sort of people is agreeing on that. (the former director of the Environmental area of the WB started the 1st day saying that he found it embarrassing to live under Bush)

I like the feeling of my brain going... mhhhh.... and the buzz of learning... particularly when like in this case, is kind of cutting edge thinking... the guys that are doing the lectures are the top people in their fields, honoris causa from college of London, MIT I don’t know what, director of the Swedish Environmental Economics institute, and so on.... plus the top layer of the environmental economics section of the world bank...

Is very intensive... all day in the meeting room of the World Bank building in Paris (200m for le arc do triumphe).... all very posh... there is a permanent bottle of Evian in front of me, a very nice bloke called “Claude” that does the best espresso, and all sorts of characters as my “coleages”... from some ultra unbearable, to people I would be friends wherever we had meet. (i.e. Mandy the southafrican biologist that is friend from the people of “African Dope” a music label from Cape Town that blow my mind away while there)

Even if it is for my own interest and I get never to use what I’m leaning, it is worth all the effort to be here (I even learn the new PC lingo for the underdeveloped world: "2nd best world"... you just have to love some of this people)

Anyway... I’m living in the 11th Arrondesiment, in la Rue de St Maur, that remind me to Buenos Aires in the 80's, the bars, people out late... sitting in the street talking shit... but obviously more multicultural... today's Bs As is more crime ridden... but well.... btw.... i saw a car chase and the police in plainclothes (i would have never said they where police!) jump out of a trendy Peugeot 306 and busted some 2 blokes and a girl... while the neighbors keep eating their baguettes and bierre...

The place I rented is small, a bit decrepit, with no view and in a 4th floor ... i don't mind to be here... feeling like a student again... Coincidentally I stayed no far away in 1983 or 84, when I was roaming around Europe trying life...

L’ Rue de Oberkamp (200 from my apartment), is today, definitively the place to be for our demographic, all bars and restaurants slightly of beat, alternative, multiculturalists, some people with babies, and so on...

Vib came for the weekend after a 7 year absence from Paris, but this time instead of trying to make it into a Daft Punk concert and finishing the night on a 60€ per vodka bottle type of club, she just brought Kika with her.

The Paris scene has become really multicultural, the variety of people you see on the Metro is amazing; the change in the last 20 years is massive, I guess that part of the resentment that fill the far right and the power of Le Pen almost challenging the presidency a few years ago... I guess the image of the Parisian as a white man with the baguette under the arm is gone for good... the same image today has a man of every potential color.

The local music just reflect that, radios are great (particularly Nova 101 FM, that yesterday played NZ ‘s own “le Fat Freddy’s drop”) and the local Dub is just... scarily good... as the 100€ dent in my finance will testify

French economy is very sluggish, the “no” at the EU constitution was for that reason, I been told that by friends that have been here for years as well as for the locals.... however the influx of tourism is impressive, even in the middle of summer... which is justifiable, because it is a very beautiful city... every thing is so well maintained and decorated, all is very grandiose... that could only be built at a time of “magnificent” social inequalities, there is no way that you could pay today people for that level of attention to detail in public building.

Everything has changed a lot since last time since I was here, but you still find the yoghurts in glass jars and the bread done in wood ovens... i like that... make me smile.

Africa in the news

2005-07-07T21:34:00.000+12:00

Africa is a lot in the media today... (weird to be writing about this from Vienna airport! on my way back from Armenia)...
I’m no expert... but it always wonder how people refer to it as like it is 1 big country... is kind of bizarre... even with the European Union nobody refer to it as 1 country... nobody puts Italy and Finland in the same bag... (even if they are all white!) So why with Africa? (because they are all black?)...

Debt relieve and fair trade are good things... should be done... but I believe that beyond... that is up to the African countries to find their own way out of were they are...

We lived in Mozambique, and even in the same country it was so much disparity... from leafy Maputo in the south, (where Shona and Shangane people live) to the forgotten Quirimbas in the North... people from one place would not be able to communicate with people from the other place... up in the Quirimbas... Portuguese did not make a lot of sense to the people I worked with... KwaZahili would have been better or even Arabic (and that is on top of the local language)...

I guess the only common factor was the coolness of most people, the best smiles ever and the most incredible light... from sunrise to blue skies, to storms, to just incredible sunsets...

Back to politics... “white” solutions have a lot to blame on the actual state of affairs there... and we still insist...

I remember talking to Joao, a guy that worked with me at the Ministry of Fisheries... I was moaning about the speed at which the president's convoy of 7 identical black Mercedes Benz drived along Avenida Mao Tse Tung (where we used to live) on his way to the airport, where he take his private plane to go somewhere... while millions of his countryman live in extreme poverty... I was questioning the need of the opulence and the 7 identical cars... (The prime minister had 5 white Mercedes!)...

So Joao asked me... so how does the NZ prime minister moves around?
I said that she drove around mostly in her own car, and that at Wellington she had 1 normal car... and that she flew on normal commercial flights along the country and outside...

But she must fly business class he said, already worried...

Well... i imagine that she does on overseas flights, but no nationally... NZ does not have business class in domestic flights... I said...

He was quite perplexed with my answers... and he said... jesus... I didn’t imagined that NZ was so poor....

What does make sense to me... did not made sense to him... and we worked together on daily basis, had simmilar education... and is not that I grow up in a full 1st world country... even if live now in one.

I like to be optimist... but I still have the feeling the developed world still trying to buy their guilt for the fuckups done during the colonial periods... as can't impose democracy... you can't impose your ideas of what “development” should be...

All people I meet, that spent time in African countries do however agree, that whatever your experience there... you may leave Africa as a whole... but the whole of Africa does not leaves you... and most of the time, those memories come out with a smile...

My shoes and Yerevan...

2005-06-26T19:37:00.000+12:00

Almost to my surprise, I see my feet walking the streets of Yerevan... I like to think that they recognise each other with a mixture of reserve and happiness...

The cafes and restaurants recognise me, and some of the waiters apparently do as well...

Summer make the streets bloom with green squares full of flowers, cafes and fountains, the men still there, with the same pointy mocassinos, the same black trousers and silky kind of t-shirt (black of course) that was perhaps under the jackets the last time I saw them... they still eating seeds and talking to each other with the overhanging bellies and their smell of rancid sweat... cheap sunglasses have been added.... There are exemptions of course... some alternatives hang around... some hip hopers.. and fair share oh heavies... after all one of the most known Armenian bands System of a Down do very well overseas... but the black dressed seed eaters are a noticeable majority (even if some go for beige, partricuallarlly if the have mobiles)

The women still here as well, my dearly admired Armenian women... they seem to have pushed even further the limits of materials science in terms of textile stretchiness, the levels of discomfort tolerance at such compressed dress code, the size of the stilettos has overpass the heights that traditional physics is able to explain, the g-strings are only to be seen in the anti-material dimension and the colour range of the clothes in contrast with the hair, make up of their lips and eyelids, definitively escapes the range of normal human vision... There are exemptions of course... But seriously... I really believe that if this country were to give their women a more prominent role in running government institutions, Armenia would be much better off... Adventurous aesthetics reflects, decision making power, particularly in societies as structured as this one...

The music still sounding... the international baroque festival, the Tokyo String Quartet, The Armenian Philharmonic and the young composers festival happening over the next 3 weeks!

The work I’m doing is a review of what I did last year, and an expansion into further products for exports for the EU.... but I’m working for the Americans! I worked with the ASME project last year while here with the EU and seems to have made an impression because they brought me back here almost to my surprise, we had talk about it last year.... but it seemed to complicated... as all USAID funded programmes need to employ Americans, flying American airlines (The Fly America Act!)... I’m not American and there were no American lines from Holland to here... but yeah... they agree to by pass all those issues... (EU programs are required as well to employ EU citizens, and so on)

Is quite interesting to see the different working mentalities, the EU gave me some Euros and sent me here... no office, no nothing... I had to work it all out by my self... the Americans picked me up from the airport, put me in the Marriot (poshest hotel here), and a team of people that came and introduced them selves and knew who and what I was doing. The EU does paper, legislation, institutional support, capacity building and so on... this guys do market research, upgrade factories, take Armenians to food expos, they are in the move constantelly...

Big part of my life has been about breaking my preconceptions; I grow up in society that had preconceptions towards Americans (gringos), Jewish, British, other Europeans, homosexuals, capitalists, communists, Turks, artists, body builders, rugby players, drug users, etc (Argentina of the 70’s-80’s was complicated, and so is my family)

Since then I try to break with all them, and I’m proud of having done so, however and even more since the Bush reign of terror, I’m very “anti American” and tend to put them all in the same basket... and here I am...

Is VERY refreshing to hear Americans criticize they own government actions and foreign policy, I guess the ones I’m working with have the option of being outside and see how the world see them. Some of the guys I have partially talk here have said the roughest things I heard saying...

I suggested that in the next elections 90% of decision for the new president should be based on American votes and 10% on a global election process... after all, the actions of their government impact the rest of us... and we don’t get to choose them... the guys here liked the idea... but I don’t think is going to go far do...

Anyway... I went with some of the younger guys here to the opening of a fruit drying plant in a village (not far from the place in the picture), based on supporting the cooperative of fruit planters... it was cool... very cool... big horovats (grilled meat), home made wine, vodka (of course), local musicians... and so on...

it was a beautiful afternoon and then night, big full moon and warm... they drinking lead to a lot of dancing on which I shamelessly took part (some local dancing it looks very much like pericon and malambo, Argentina’s traditional dance!)... I even went for a haka at the end... that caused too much impression as some o the children run away... but anyway... it was good to feel that the dancing has such a plainfield effect... mayor, politician, cleaner, planter, foreigner... we are the same there....

after the dancing the singing comes up... and man... still give me goose bumps.... Armenian history is very sad... and so are some of the songs... you dance to celebrate being alive, but you sing to remember the ones that are gone... either killed or emigrated....

in such musical country like this, singing is seriously amazing... this ladies would sing so beautifully sad... that I just had to cry... I had no idea what they were saying... but I knew what they were about... an old lady came and gave me a hug... the translator told me she did it because I’m away from family as well... and thanks to my family is that i can afford to be here... strong stuff, mate...

Some of the songs go back to the 3rd and 4th century (remember this a 3000 years old culture!)... and they all know them... I feel sometime envious of that (as with Maori at home in NZ), as they have such strong connection with their history and roots... while people like me seems to have problems even to explain where I live...

Is good to be here do...

Normal Holland and the Achterhoek

2005-06-17T09:00:00.000+12:00

I remember coming to Vibeke’s native Holland after we left Mozambique... and I remember feeling that everything was so nice and organized that it was “not normal”, I find Holland (the Nederlands, as they like to call it here) a wonderfully abnormal country... just because they take a very wide view of normality....

The chaos we normally experience in the developing world seems “more normal” to me... that a place where all looks like some omnipotent grandma has been cleaning and making order overnight... where bicycles rule and everything has a legal framework around it, discussing issues rationally is the national occupation, where people complain that 25 % of the population can't afford to go in holidays, where you can go and buy a spliff legally, get your self a professional prostitute from a window shop in a normal house, marry you same sex partner or chose euthanasia as way to die...

And here we are again, in what is now pretty much an anual summer migration out of NZ

But anyway... Vibeke’s original Holland, where her parents and family live is deep rural Holland... no the one that tourist get to see... she lives in the East... in the Achterhoek... and spent most our time in the near Barchem... her parents and family are still close related to farming, either as ex, hobby, or actual farmers...

Seeing where she comes from was eye-opening for me, after all, what we knew from each other was only what we told each other and our “history” in our adopted NZ... seeing her history of cycling 20 km to go to school in a rural town, seeing her pictures wining prices as show jumping rider, seeing how “normal” and somehow privileged life she had... made me value even more her adaptability, understanding, and overall coolness during some of the situations and experiences we have as a “nomad” family...

We spend time in the house you see next, there Margreet (vib’s mum)(parents divorced a while ago) lives with Barthold (who owns the farm), they don’t farm it anymore as they took a government offer to keep most of the farm as an “scenic reserve”, meaning keeping it nice (and getting paid by the government to do it), while some other parts are leased to farmers and tree planting... the cows at the top are the front neighbours... the closest house is Barthold’s cousin (Gert) farm, at least 150 m away... and then nothing at less than 400mt... Barchem it self is not much... 1000 people? A pub café, the best bakery in the region, a mini supermarket and a farm shop... end of story

But then... they rent a shed to a local Bloke that makes didgeridoos! And winter-horns like a traditional old instrument from the region that looks and sound like a didgeridoo... reality is way more strange than fiction....

Vib’s dad (retired vet) lives a good 30 minutes away by car in the near of Winterswijk, but even in more remote location (and there is where Vib grow up).

Vib’s cousin Erik (34) is a full time farmer and has a relatively hi-tech milk farm of 60 hectares and over 200 cows... extremely intensive farming compared to the ones I see in the parts we hang out... I really like him... we always have good chats... he has good vision of the world... we like to spent time with him because he and his wife (Berendien) they are similar minded and aged and have 3 children... Felix just loves it there...
It could be a cliche for me to start criticising the subsidies and the environmental cost of intensive farming, but I realize that I would be missing the point... starting with the fact that his farm was just water 30 years ago (as big part of Holland)... If I could find a way to measure the effort that people put into farming vs. the rewards out of it, and scaled to the cost of living in that country... then I guess I could compare and if necessary draw an argument... but until then...

I just keep enjoying the Achterhoek...

Filipino postcards

2005-06-06T15:21:00.000+12:00

Out of the Philippines... was good... I’m pleased of having been here... this job was different to all others; 2 months for a 5mb document...
it may help... the difference is that until now I used to do the jobs that others had proposed... now I’m writing things that somebody else would put in place...

Beyond the job... some images that would reside in my mind forever, are the other main outcome of this job. Just to name a few:

>the bizarre Chinese cemetery of Manila with hundreds of art-deco and traditional tombs some with aircon bars, that looks like a city with families actually living there (like the picture in the top) and more pictures here

>the 12 hr ferry ride from Coron to Manila in the cheapest class (deck) surrounded by literally thousand locals ranging from friendly to non-interested but never unfriendly...
>for first time in more than 25 years in boats been waken up by (various) rooster in the middle of the ocean (I mention cockfighting is BIG here)
>the hidden freshwater lake of Coron islands
>the saltwater hotpools in the mangroves of Sangat island
>the simplicity of life in the Batanes
>the Kazakhstan vs Filipinas basketball game! (globalization is here to stay)
>the good laughs with locals everywhere
>the coincidences
>the peoples names (Gaylord Recto, Rey Abuso, Victory Habito y Willy Enverga for example)
>eating Puto with sugar
>the music
>the crossroad banners celebrating the locals education achievements
>the complete acceptance that sexuality is your own business and is all good...
>the incredible flavour of the mangoes
>the jeepney’s art

but overall, my respect to the resilience and dignity of Pilipinos along history

Taxi, Fat Freddy's, Traffic and Globalization

2005-05-06T19:15:00.000+12:00

Lunch time...

Mr Motoomul from from the Bureau of Product Standards of the Department of Trade and Industry called me... No other option than take a taxi to go and pick up a document.

Taxi diver asked me where are u from?

- I live in NZ, i say.

Ah NZ! i have a tape that a man gave me when i took him to the airport. Is nice! you wanna listen it?

- yes, sure...

Fat Freddy's Seconds started playing (you know ... a name that suits my personality...)

I got all dreamy and still overloaded by the globalization I’m part of...

traffic didn't matter much after that

Wick-end (wicked weekend)

2005-05-01T18:02:00.000+12:00

Friday afternoon was already weird...

I have been spending 12 hrs day over my mac preparing a preliminary report that I kind of finished this afternoon...I had read somewhere that in the neighbourhood there was a massage “clinic” run by blind masseurs, so I decided to go and see them.

As I suspected it was in the complex of the Salesians in the Don Bosco school, while been “allergic” to dogmatic religions in general, I’m very conscious that in many countries education is key to opportunities, and if that education comes with an attached dogma... so be it... good on them.... you can quit the dogma part later on...

I can’t be partial... I did my primary education in backwaters of Argentina at a salesian school “Escuela San Rafael” in Curuzu Cuatia in the province of Corrientes

Anyway, there I went and after wandering around the school for a while I found the clinic, a small room with 3 blind masseurs at that time... I guess not many foreigners go there... so they were quite surprised, and they started asking me questions about where I come from and so on...

As I lie down on the stretcher I realise the bizarreness of the décor and colours combinations of the whole place... which kind of made sense based on the fact that they wouldn’t really know, and most sheets and curtains must have been given to them...

I was kind of carried away by my daydreaming about blind decorators, and the masseurs started his job... he started, i guess... checking my body out... and saying: Oh you very big person... and then I realize that there was no way that they could have known that I’m almost 2 m tall... he started having the giggles... and me too... he kept going down my legs and realize they were hanging out of the stretcher like by 40 cm... By then he was laughing full on... and obviously me too... then his colleagues must have asked him (in Tagalog) something like:
- hei broh what going on?

And the laughing dialogue must have gone on something like:
- I have a very long guy here, man this funny...
- Really?
- Yea man...
- Can we check it out?

And then the question (in English) came: Can my friends come and help me?

At that stage, all was very surreal, so I say: yeah sure... you can all come...

So they came, and it was one the most bizarre situations... I’m used to people “checking me out”, seeing me tall, and making comments about it.... but I never before I had people “touching me out”, feeling me tall, and cracking up laughing.... and in a room with the most bizarre colour combination in terms of sheet, different colour curtains, and so on... it was just... fantastic... again... these situations are my fuel and my drug...

So basically I had the 2 guys going over my whole body for 1 hour for the equivalent of 250 pesos (5USD)... It was very good by the way... (I left then 500 pesos)
So I come back home and the Team Leader of the mission, Alejandro de la Peña, a VERY nice and relaxed mexican guy (former Mexico’s ambassador to WTO), and his (as nice as him) Uruguayan wife Lujan, invited me to dinner in a very posh restaurant as he hosted the Mexican Ambassadress here in the Philippines, and some other Mexican diplomats here in the city...

So there is was surrounded by this very non stereotypical diplomats, drinking wine, eating gnocchi with the local band singing to us mariachi songs.... feeling overload by life and wondering how can I REALLY take my life seriously.... when Imelda Marcos... (the 3000 shoes woman, that in reality were only 1060) sited next to us!

I was like... no way... this is just like... tripping... Imelda is an icon... for most of the wrong reasons of course... but... you know... like in 1993 she was sentenced to 1,824 years imprisonment on charges of corruption... but then... like a present day Evita....

She has incredible pearls of wisdom, like:

“If you know how rich you are, you are not rich. But me, I am not aware of the extent of my wealth. That's how rich we are.”

"I was born ostentatious. They will list my name in the dictionary someday. They will use 'Imeldific' to mean ostentatious extravagance."

"It's the rich you can terrorize. The poor have nothing to lose."

"I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes, I had one thousand and sixty."

"It is terribly important to do certain things, such as wear overembroidered dresses. After all, the mass follows class. Class never follows mass."

And my favourite:
“When they see me holding fish, they can see that I am comfortable with kings as well as with paupers.”

Anyway... there she was... as we spoke Spanish, and we had ambassadors and so on... she sat with us... and talk, being very taken by us... while in our case we just like seen her like a cultural panache... and of course the compulsory picture...

Where I have the biggest, and at that stage of the day permanent grin in my face.

I guess having Vibeke next to me, and look each other with kid in a toy shop understanding we have, was the only thing I could have ask the make the day better

Anyway...that was enough for that for Friday... so Saturday I work on a proposal for a job in Vietnam (Hanoi) so be aware of next postings!

Then at night (after great tacos and quesadillas by Lujan)... I went into as place I wanted to check out for a while, and that I can only recommend, and it would be my favourite place in manila the SaGuijo Cafe. A very cool place, downstairs a grungy live band venue, café, bar and so on, and upstairs a very cool op shop and a gallery. It was packed, as I imagined because was a gig organised by ternorecordings the local label of the Radioactive Sago Project, Wajijuara, and the incredibly pumping Brownbeat, were funk meet Ska... it was fantastic night and again o had the great feeling of being the only obviously foreign guy in the whole place... this produced some conversations, which took to other conversations, and to know other people, and so on...

I’m looking forward to be a guest DJ at 88.3 JAM FM, and seeing the Milagros Dancehall sound system... that apparently are the bomb...

Saturday night in one of many Manilas... see it for your self:

Manila on my window

2005-04-23T05:45:00.000+12:00

Has been a while... somehow I can’t write about NZ (even if for me, Auckland’s North Shore is as foreign as Mozambique or Armenia), but anyway… some e-mails asked for the travel log so here is back… (actually I don’t have copies of my old one, so I appreciate if somebody sent them back to me... One day all this would be history)

I guess all overseas development jobs are different, and that is what keeps drawing me back to it, particular after a quite pitiful attempt of having a “real” job in NZ, to which I fail miserably.

But this in Manila is more different than others… as I’m taking a step off fisheries (perhaps for 1st time in my working life!).

There are 2 main objectives to any fisheries activity, subsistence and trade (this in the broadest sense). Let leave subsistence aside this time... I always believed that if you are going to intervene on the fisheries resource under whatever management structure your country decided to use (and I’m not going to discuss the alternatives now), the outcome of that intervention has to maximize the potential benefit out of it. In other terms, if you are going to potentially f*#ck your resource, do it for the best outcome possible, if not there is a double waste.

There is where trade comes in... to trade fish internationally (where the big $ is) there are “rules” set by WTO, as many importing countries have Sanitary and Phytosanitary Standard (SPS) (mostly around food safety and biosecurity) to be oblige in order to accept those products. If you think that over 50% of the “development” world trade with the “developed” one is based on fish, fruit, meat, grains, nuts, and other low process food items, then any “failure” in achieving those SPS has massive consequences. Particularly, when there is the suspicion that those standards are used aTechnical Barriers to Trade (TBTs).

Good, where I’m trying to go, I have kind of specialized over the years on various aspects of fisheries, being the SPS related, one of my most common jobs… so in this occasion I was asked to be part of a team of 4 people that is assessing the needs at policy level, that the Philippines government and institutions have in order to maximise their potential for international trade under the WTO rules… in other words what they need to do in order to not get further screwed by opportunistic market forces at importing country level… my area is SPS in general (not only fish), and funnily do, I’m paid by the EU.

So I spent a lot of time in ministries, directorates, universities, factories, embassies, labs, and so on talking to people, and compiling the issues they have in order to rationalize the and suggest what type of assistance, would be needed to better address the problems… a long way from measuring fish, and training people in boats and factories…

Manila…. Over 10 million (10000000!) people in one big urban conglomerate. But I don’t think we can call it a city… is actually like 7 or 8 that re juggled into each other… what I see from my window in the 27th floor I could be in Hong Kong…

but then this is Makati, the business/embassy city… as soon as you leave things change big time. Is quite full on, (as most big Asian cities) but somehow has its enchantments mostly born out of it madness…

Snippets of it: barefoot basketball everywhere, children boxing in the streets off Malate, boxing is the 3rd most popular sport after basketball and Cockfights, going to the cockpit La Libertad… the massive amount and the painting on the jeepneys (like a bus made of extended Jeep) with winie the poo and Jesus painted together on the sides, or a girl with her mango (presumably the daughter of the driver) and the plane of top gun, Virgin Mary and Elvis on a hug…the “villages” low key compounds where the middle class live, in some sort of slow passed greenish oasis fenced out of the street madness… the openness of cross-dressing and prostitution everywhere, the toilet masseurs in “las reinas” a live band joint ( you go for pee and this blokes give you a neck massage while you go on with your business, just as part of the services of the place… you may leave some money on the way out), the helicopters cruising the sky in the morning and afternoon taking the very rich in and out of their office, the incredible amount of malls everywhere (megamall has 1 km long, 300 m wide and 4 floors!), the cheapness of the food (80 nz$ dinner for 3 with 2 bottles of wine in the poshest district of the country)… the night scene and the clubs going off at 3-4 am… and so on

people is cool… I find them holding a lot of dignity… they have the shitiest history of foreign domination … I guess 80% of their heroes were killed by some invader or another Spanish (for 333 years), Japanese, Americans) but they keep going on, and on… hard workers… no problems where, what and when… they just go and do it… honestly there are Filipino Overseas Workers (FOW) everywhere working their life to help the ones left here... actually there are over 8000 in Iraq (3rd biggest group of foreigners there?)

I find so moving the respect the have for education; you go to the smallest neighbourhood or villages in the other islands, and you see the banners across the road saying: “welcome xxxxx xxxxx graduate in “whatever” from such university or college or high school”, you make us proud… I think is so cool… particularly because I see how many people is see in the “development world“ take the right to education as a given and even waste it… while in countries like this one, is the difference in between a life with hope and one of just pure resilience.

I actually really like that I don’t have to repeat and spell my name all the time… Francisco is soo common… actually most names are Spanish… even if not many do speak Spanish at all… imagine you meet somebody named Jonathan Smith and he does not speaks English at all! Will not be a kind of funny situation?

Music is cool, I may not like a of the Pinoy (Filipino) Original Music and rock, but they cover all styles… I went to see some bands, and I have been really surprised by a free jazz kind of band theRadioactive Sago Project and a very cool dub combo by the name of Junior Kilat , worth to download some stuff from them.

Very much looking forward, to leave manila again… the weekend and the waves at Puraran where fantastic… even if I had the worst longboard ever… I’m keen to go for a dive… but then… I’m here working…

More to come

Wrapping up Armenia

2004-06-18T03:21:00.000+12:00

Yes I still I Armenia… but wrapping up.

Yerevan is another city in the spring summer… life just warms up and all becomes lushly green, all squares get covered with cafes and a good number of the immense amount of fountains (1300 at the peak of soviet times) that you see al around the place starts sheltering the heat.

The summer has also brought a lot of colour… and in more than one sense… starting with the outfits of the woman… guau… I guess there is no comparison to the NZ scene… o perhaps the type of clothing and flesh exposure you may see on Saturday night clubbing or pop fashion party with top 40 music from the acid house scene…. But you would not see those girls wearing that on a Tuesday 11 am while waiting the bus… Absolutely incredible…I wish I was brave enough to approach them with a camera and say… please… the world need to know about you girls…

Matching pinks on the VERY tight top, trousers, stilettos (of course!) and handbag… and in harmony with the other friends you go cruising about… Immaculate white trousers that would not be white not even 5 seconds if anyone I know uses them… Green and red flower stamped tight trousers with more flowered tops… complete yellow outfit only interrupted by a brown “schall” on her shoulders…. And is visually obviously g-strings are the most common type of undies…

Of course, men still use black stripy trousers and black satin shirts with incredibly long pointy shoes…. Refreshing exemptions are some trendy Iranians or Lebanese to whom linen and light cloth shirts are a classic… as long they are beige or pastel…

Obviously I’m by far the worst dressed person around… with my pseudo mature surfer look…

It never ceases to overwhelm me how different perceptions over the same thing are… for me, even if visually wonderful… I found it vulgar… and they fund me vulgar… how somebody with more money than them (as all foreigners are rich) pays so little attention to his appearance…

I guess that would be my more lasting memory from that place, the incredible mixture of mysticism, culture and vulgarity I’m surrounded…

Everything is very ancient and the roots of Armenian culture are as old as civilization, the earliest books, religious and scientific analysis comes from around here…so the earliest references to wine, beer, and pot (there is a city named Ganja!) are hosted in manuscripts held in Armenia…

The history of a people without place or own government for centuries made each Armenian his own king and the holder of his peoples history… there are an immense amount of old books (10th to 14th century) that made it till today, because it was the only thing that people would take with them when the decapitating hordes arrived, when they had to go away because they were in the middle of the old world, Ottomans, Persians, Huns, Crusaders, Bolsheviks… named… all been here…

The identity is the only thing they kept… I have seen people cry of emotion when Niri the Japanese girlfriend of my friend Carlos would talk to them in fluent Armenian… they would hold her hand and in tears say: thank you so much! … Strong stuff mate…

The sense of martyrdom is essential to their psyche… so much that Martiros and Martirosyan, are very common names and surnames respectively…

And even today the centre of they geographical identity, the sole symbol of they culture that stand over everything else and that you can see from everywhere is Mt Ararat… a very impressive sight that goes well over 5000 m right from Yerevan’s valley… is in Turkey… after their annexation of Anatolia…

Is very disturbing, even for me, to have a whole section of a country constructed to look towards this most beautiful mountain that is part of your identity since Noah’s ark… and to know that is in the hand of your enemies…

They got they land and opportunity to foster they culture with some pseudo leverage as being the most culturally prominent republic of the old Soviet Union… but then it collapsed and old unpaid bills came back… you know… war with Azerbaijan and so on…

In general terms in “our” part of the world we see what is call development advances move forwards… you know you get better services and infrastructure as time pass by and today you have more than 10 years ago…

This job get to show you the opposite … not often you get confronted with the decadence of “civilization”… was quite bizarre already in Mozambique when you wander around places that 100 years ago had double sided avenues and palaces and today is very hard to get there in 4wds… here the past is very close… so the abandonment feeling is almost post apocalyptic… you go trough whole industrial areas that are completely empty, buildings and machinery sitting there, hectares of glass houses decaying with no better use than an aim of the local children stones….

Personally and as former amateur sports person from Argentina that always struggle to get support and good training facilities the most anguished place was to visit the abandoned high performance competition centre that the Soviet Union had in the mountains nearby for it elite athletes, in order to train them for Olympics and competitions in high places (is at 2500 mts).

It is a huge complex… it must have been sooo fantastic… and after 10 years of complete neglect it just felt so disturbing… massive Olympic size pool with plants growing from the cracked bottom… huge boilers for the water heating cannibalized for parts laying around… a covered 200 m ling pavilion with a tartan athletics track inside rotten away with the hurdles still laying around… the outside track with 2 adjacent areas for training blackened by the neglect… huge gymnastics halls being used by the local fauna…. and nobody around….

Except in the massive eating and living areas for athletes used by internal refuges of the Nagorno Karabagh war… It just felt what I guess would be the world 10 years after most people died by some apocalyptic reason…

But… then you come to Yerevan, and it is a different world… It must be the most musical city in the world…

Besides having concerts all the time… the quality of the musicians is just incredible… the local conservatory is constantly booming in people… Armenia is the only country in the world who’s number of music students is growing as per % of total population… In the square across the road was the National Armenian Jazz Band… at the style of the big jazz band of the 50’s… not my favourites… but man… those guys were the bomb… they play for 2.5 hrs non stop I was completely into it particularly when they starting playing local jazz that mixes traditional rhythms and instruments with the traditional big band stuff (and I mean big over 20 musicians on stage!)

2 days later similar venue but classical… again mind-blowing… It was Russia day… so big Russian concert with those jumping dancers and all… next day tribute to Piazolla (Argentina’s greatest contemporary classic and tango composer)… and so on… and then incredible international visits… like next week the Kronos Quartet… the most innovative and avant gard contemporary classic quartet in the world … they come here to perform Armenian contemporary composers… and we talking a city with less than a millon people...

It is incredible… you have at least 1-2 different concerts every night and up to four on weekends… plus 2-3 theatre plays… plus marionette and puppets exclusively dedicated theatres with 2 different functions… on children’s plays by Pushkin, Andersen and other classic authors…

I guess that would be one of the issues I will miss the most… and what challenge me the most of this place…. Knowing that the idiot that almost run you over while crossing the streets, stands around eating seeds, let his phone on and starts talking while in training seminar… plays the violin or the cello at a level that most of us would never achieve…

I guess that is the mystic and vulgar dichotomy of the Caucasus…

Mad caucasus and my lucky spring

2004-04-02T05:23:00.000+12:00

Thanks again for all the good messages about my dispatches from here… and to those that insist that I should put them in a book… well whose going to buy it… you all have them for the last years already!

Anyway... spring is exploding in Armenia... is quite extreme how a week of warmer weather makes the grass break the dull grey of the earth, and how all the apricots trees (plenty of them in the city) get covered in white flowers... the city feels happier... even if the political situation get problematic…as apparently there is massive protest taking the streets next week (I’ll be in Holland) as the support for the present War President that has forgot the economy if becoming thin (isn’t that happening somewhere else?)

The Southern Caucasus is just a mad place... Georgia has 3 breakaway provinces that do not have any links with the central government and are virtually autonomous region/countries in pseudo state of war with the central government in Tbilisi, and its relations with Armenian are bitter sweet at the moment, as one of the breakaway governors is Armenian in origin.

Armenia has been blockaded since the 90's by Turkey in the west, meaning that border is closed and there is no relationship of any form, the reason for this go back to the Armenian genocide by the Ottoman Turks in 1915, and the support of the Turks to the Azerbaijanis in regards the land disputes with Armenia.

In particular in regards the “Mountainous Republic of Nagorno Karabakh” (Ja! Get that for a stamp in your passport) which is a ethnic Armenian enclave in Azerbaijan that gain independence supported by Armenia and is a country only recognised by Armenia, the actual Armenian president (Kocharian) was indeed the former president of Nagorno Karabakh... so it is all very messy… The Turks do complain loudly about i... but they are in the same situation with Cyprus!

As well there is the Azerbaijani province of Naxiban that is totally isolated form the rest of the country and sandwiched in between Turkey on the west, Armenia on the north and east and Iran on the South... Armenia is a frozen war state with Azerbaijan for the last 10 years, with sporadic skirmishes that leave dead soldiers on both sides... they are supporting/occupying Nagorno-Karabash... And all this mess in the name of what supposedly make us better people... Religion... so this are reason why the Turks still have a long road the be part of the EU...

The real reason why this entire place is not in complete war is the profound and unnoticed influence of the areas more stable country... Iran… Armenia’s best friend and lifeline... but... hey are they not extreme Muslims part of the axis of evil? Well really not...
I remember during 2000 hanging out for coffee in the Armenian quarter in Isfaham where the Armenian churches are 400 mts away for one of Iran biggest Mosques and there are no problems... Iranian took massive amount of refugees at the genocide time...

Iran diplomacy is what keeps this region stable even more perhaps than the money, which millions of overseas Armenians send back here…
This last week (my last one here I’m off to Holland until the 10 of May), has been quite eventful...

I have been working with the Cray fisherman of Lake Sevan... it never stop fascinates me how fisherman are a unique breed with common characteristics beyond countries and at the same some unique particulars that are so specific to where come from... and Cray fisherman are like a sub unit of that mad tribe of people worldwide...

Lake Sevan is quite high so you still have snow storms up there, and being in 6-7 mts boat/barge that incredibly still floats, lifting craypots under a blizzard surrounded by 3 cigarette-to-face welded fisherman talking about how we do it in NZ, and what is the best bait, and why it should have a escape hole for juveniles, and how big they were and the fuc. government, and the price squeeze of the companies... and so... in a mixture of armenian-russian-german language melange, under the constant warming of various bottles of vodka, was at the same time bizarre and way to familiar...

Coming back and loading all in a truck and drive back to the factory singing at loud heavily accented voice “Hotel California” (that by some reason is the only song in English that EVERY one knows and sings VERY loud) out of the a destroyed tape recorder, while the snow piles up on the lake border road driven by mad Lada racers... and stopping at a shed that only sells cigarettes and vodka for my to replenish their stock... to keep driving and stopped by corrupt policeman looking for nice Cray dinner for the night, and as get as well a Vodka zip, while we all sing for 3rd time in an hour “Hotel California” and the policeman tap my head saying something like “he looks alright for a foreign wanker”, as I’m really drunk and cant stop laughing form the bizarreness of the situation and the fear that all can go wrong at any moment... and that fragility and extreme of life is a bit addictive, but at the same time tiresome.

A big headache later I come back to home in Yerevan in the pretentious comfort of the EU Range rover as on Fridays I have been running a series of 10 seminars for the ministry inspectors.

So I go and did my usual gondola trip up and down the hill and read below what happened in the immediate trip, after the one I took...
I still a bit freaked out... and very much looking forward to see my family next week.

I know I’m a very lucky person... but yesterday was my lucky day...

THREE DIE, SIX OTHERS GET INJURIES IN FUNICULAR ACCIDENT
YEREVAN, APRIL 2: Three people were killed and six others received heavy injuries when a funicular railway car fell on the ground today. The accident occurred at 2 pm when the car was taking passengers to Nor Nork borough from downtown Yerevan. Another car that was sliding towards the center did not fall down due to braking system. The injured were rushed to hospital. An official of the emergencies department said the accident may have been caused by the obsolete machinery.

East meet Europe

2004-03-23T05:12:00.000+12:00

I just have been watching “The Music Room” a program on CNN trying to be cool (it doesn’t work), but was about "Music in NZ" ... I have seen in succession King Capisi, One tree hill, Salmonella dub, P money, and so on... the presenter was being filmed at the entrance of Simunovich Fisheries, a door I crossed 1000 times... It was all so familiar but weird... from here… cold Yerevan…

Where funnily enough I’m not very used to not to be seen as a foreigner… everyone come and talks to me in Armenian, and kind of get offended when they realize that I have no idea of what they going on about… is very weird… in most other jobs.. tends to be very obvious my foreignness… but not here… at least not to them…. Not one person comes and offered me a menu in English… all Armenians I meet, later on come and tell me you look so Armenian… you look like my cousin Sevan… and so on I'm kind got use to it...

But.. I'm not getting use to the cold… geez... 1 degree C at lunch time… there is no need for that … however I'm kind of understanding the little things associated to it… like why most cars have all this cats footprints on the bonnet… because is warm there! As soon as a car parks… al cats from around come an lie there… is very funny for me!

It has only been one day since I'm here that I was able to walk the streets without my fleece jacket!...

Went to the Armenian equivalent of the Vatican... Which was cool... but quite “sanitized”.... very interesting painting, carvings and illustrated bibles…but it is funny, because on one side they have the spear that went on the side and “killed” Jesus (yeah man!!!) is not in display but is Armenia’s most treasured possession… and then all “priests” have a very Muslim looking beard and hat… on top of that one of the various religious icons they use is like a fake hand (like a prosthesis) in which the thumb and the “ring finger” are touching each other, meaning of circle of life that you see in the meditating Buddha statues in Sri Lanka…. Very weird…

Even if Christians I find my self more convinced that this is much more the middle east than Europe, even if local would get mad if the hear me… I don't know I just get to see it in the obvious issues, but as well in details… that perhaps only make sense to me, the combination of the fringe and the colour of the dresses of the waitresses in a restaurant… Their ideas on what we like… The plates of carefully sliced fruits… That all waiters/waitresses have an ID with their photos… That tea is called chai… that not one would ever dare to bring milk with the tea… and of course a slice of lemon...

Socially I got into some circles and I found my self "busy" during evenings... I went for an "audition" at the Buddha Lounge Bar a nice bar/club/restaurant copied to one in Paris where the "pseudo-alternative" crowd hangs out... and the guys was so keen that asked me to keep playing so I did a 2 hr set and I can go and play anytime I want they said, so I chose to be the resident DJ on Fridays... So I have the weekends free…

I normally eat at an Iranian Restaurant around my corner that cater students (many here), and it is a happy place with people talking to you and being friendly, besides cheap... so last week went there, and at the moment I'm getting is another 2 people comes in... and they are speaking Spanish... an Argentinean-Armenian composer (whom I knew about) and a Mexican anthropologist .... so they invite for dinner as it was the Mexican guy b'day... so other people started coming... 2 airport Argentineans (an Argentinean Armenian owns the airport!), Ecuadorian political scientist with NewYorican water economist wife..., various half Armenians from different parts, a Bask accountant-diver (?), a Norwegian social psychologist and her Norwegian political scientist flatmate, the German and French embassy officers, a Swiss-Italian development officer, the Canadian French microbiologist-filmmaker, and so on... so I was in my sauce... after they finish we went to the Mexican flat and had a pipe... and so on... So this crew kind of adopted me, so I got invited to quite a few parties and dinners lately and now besides having the Buddha gig... I’m now the DJ in the “Spanish Society” radio program at a local FM... bizarre....

I hate my job some days... I hate not being with my family... But destiny tends to pull some tricks on me of take me into strange situations... If I was Muslim and taught that my destiny and life book ahs been already written by Allah...

Well… I would strongly suspect that Allah does drugs...

Yerevan

2004-02-23T04:50:00.000+13:00

Armenia in my mind was like the Atlantis.... Kind of place that we all heard off... But nobody really knows if it still exist or where it is supposed to be... This is the Caucasus from where the word Caucasia come from...I have been described like that... but I don't know why... in any case this was the backwaters of the Soviet Union... land of the lawless... as soon as the CCCP went down this guys got independence and went to war wit the neighbors for chunks of Christian land in Muslims countries... in theory Armenia and Azerbaijan still at war..

By day downtown Yerevan seems very Russian with non Russian looking people... (I have not been to Russia, do) ...men in cheap leather jackets and pointy mocasinos... pelt hats... many in fake adidas anoraks looking like iranians/turks ... but Christianity seems to make them look a bit different... women are into very tight clothes under colour leather jackets that come down to their knees, a lot of light blue make up around the eyes and the concept of hair coloring has some how new meaning for me.... There is a bit to much yellow and contrast with the very dark black from the eye brows( and the very white skin)... and by no doubt masters of equilibrium and frostbite control as per the very tight and pointy stiletto kind of boots they use to wander trough the snow

all sort of soviet cars of which ones i only recognize the nivas and a few others, and of course as it is a free country... BMW and Mercedes... meaning that you have either $ or are in politics (normally related)... and is very important for you to show off...

Again I'm a giant walking the streets in disbelieve of the anarchy of traffic.... the old part of the city seems to have been very posh at some stage... the Architecture is monumental... still much more to see... young (teenage) soldiers playing in the snow with uniforms that make them even younger... kebab houses shining... the poster of lord of the rings in Russian and Armenian... (Pity I did not had a digicam)... cheap latino music in Spanish pouring from underground clubs...

on the other side... on a Wednesday night I could go to a opera, a chamber music concert or the visiting Iranian Philharmonic playing with the local one (over 400 musicians on stage)... Pretty much every night is something and we talking a city of Auckland population

Is quite tripy to go on a Volga car (big) trough the hills from outer Yerevan... trough industrial areas with melting snow, down driveways into government buildings looking empty.... The ministries are incredible... Ruskis master the art of institutional architecture....

The office I' be working is a bit out of town, but I can take either a buss or a gondola (sic) to get there... yes the gondola is again very Russian in design...ugly but able to still work after 20 years of minimal maintenance ...

Yerevan is the lowest part of the country, (1000mts) and is surrounded by hills...there is as well a underground metro... so the stations that are under some of the hills have the longest mechanical stairs I have ever seen... one of them must be 250 mts at least... is hard to see the top when you get on it...

Food is varied and meaty.... I went to a place last night aptly named Caucasus Tavern which by some reason was full of Armenian army soldiers... they bring you a small glass of vodka, you pour a bit on your hands to wash then and disinfect... then u dry them and drink the rest.

Then some short dark dressed girls with the faced of experience pass and leaves you with a plate of different types of salad leafs, mushrooms, capsicums and flat bread...
so u get the leaves an much it cow stile.... And make some rolls with the bread ands the rest, and the chunks of bbq meat come and you keep making rolls, and wash down the whole thing with red wine...

By the way, I got the flat, move in on Tuesday, is on the 7 floor, nothing flash, kind of big, close to a park, the bazaar, republic square, etc

Saturday morning... watching muz.ru tv... sort of Russian own mtv... but very cheesy.... Glitters and tits seems to be big in Russian tv...

and all under 30 cm of snow.... but that does not seem to bother the mocasino man and the stiletto woman

Maputo is good for you

2003-01-14T21:32:00.000+13:00

Maputo is going to be good for me... so to really valorize how much we do really have...

Is very hard to maintain the optimism i normally have in any of the Pacific island or in Sri Lanka... there is perhaps a better life for Africa... but they know that is way far in the future... hey are at the bottom of a rubbish bin... covered by bad shit like AIDS, misery, corruption, no education... and still be badly fucked by the Americans...read about the "free trade" agreements rounds in Mauritius... based solely on Oil...

our own EU!!... i saw a copy of the Fisheries Agreement... Spain, Portugal, France, Greece... 4.9 million Euro per year for unrestricted access to the grounds for 50 boats (all over 50 mts)...pathetic

and i supposed to work on fiscalization aim to "sustainable fishing"... very disappointed...

last Monday went to nice place named cerveceria Miramar.... when i came out... this 3 young prostitutes come to me aged 15 to 17 perhaps... so i got instead the car and lock the doors as they arrived... and they were offering themselves to me... pointing at my penis and opening the months... then pulling their t-shirts up and rubbing their tits against the car windows... while i was trying to get the antitheft block out of the wheel... and saying 'quince dollar'... quince dollar... 15USD... i finally started the car and star moving so they left... i was overwhelm... and fucked up... because i realize I’m the target market... alone... middle aged.. white guy in a big car... my types fuel that sad life... i was just out of my self...

there are good things... like the music... the caffes.... beautiful scenery... but overall happiness (which seems to be the fuel that maintains the place going) ... and incredibly a very laid back attitude to life...

i'm positive about being here... but i'm very pessimistic about the future of this (now my) people...

Peace and pot in Sri Lanka

2002-09-11T19:47:00.001+12:00

Greetings from a peaceful Sri Lanka… after 19 years of hardcore battle there is finally peace… mi 2nd day here after a 3 month stint back home, was in middle of the Peace rally… which as most things in this country was quite full on… over 300000 people marching, chanting, dancing, getting completely piss and stoned under a torrid sun (in Colombo is always 31° C!).

It was a nice feeling when you are the only white face in a huge crowd and you get the best dialogs…

- where you from sir?
- Argentina… but I live in New Zealand
- Ah… Maradona and Chris Cairns…. Very good combination sir!!! same hair style!!

You feel the difference that peace is making… no more roadblocks… free travelling… very cool atmosphere… the final peace process still has a way to go, and a lot of negotiation to be done… as the prime minister is driving the peace process, but the president is opposed to it… (welcome to Politics!)

But is very good for the north east (Tamil land) which has been neglected for ages… and there is were I’m going for the next 2 weeks...