underWater desert Blogging

My Own Private Pirate Expedition

I am trying to return to some modicum of consistency with respect to the exhibitionist nature of this activity.

In that vein, let me tell you of our next few days.  Our roommates (there are a total of five of us, which will constrict to three within a matter of weeks) and Leigh and I will be heading off to "train" the Coast Guard.  Actually, we won't be doing any training, but Scuba Steve will be training the Coast Guard on boat handling techniques (for their one cutter) and diving techniques (still unsure re: this one). 

A while ago we bought a Pirate flag as a joke when we were in Scotland.  I am hoping to fly this from the cutter as we are zooming along.  There is this corner, near Djib, of S-land that Leigh and I have always wanted to visit.  It is apparently one of the most beautiful parts of this country.  There are two major islands off the coast, where Muslim missionaries first crossed from the peninsula into Africa.  There is an ancient ruin of the mosque they used on the one island where we are hoping to camp.  Also there will likely be sea turtles and whale sharks, and some of the best reef diving in the world.  As my roommates are similiar to my family - which is to say nuts about photos - I'm sure there will be numerous photos for posting afterwards. 

We are hoping that the cruise will contain a short diversion up to Djib where we can acquire wines and other select items not available in our locale.  The S-land Coast Guard are having some sort of a meet and greet with the Djib Navy, so that should be interesting to be a part of. 

The pirates shouldn't be too much of a concern.  I will be posting myself with binos on the bow gatling for much of the trip, or at least for a few photos.  Plus the closer to Djib, where the anti-piracy fleet is "stationed," one gets the safer one becomes. 

We should be completely out of contact from Thursday until Monday.  After that, inshallah, there will be tons of stories of nuts adventures.

We are hoping to see T-Pain somewhere along the way....

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An Homage to My Environment (aka Thanks for the Birthday Greetings)

For those which are curious as to a H-town, birthday this is how it broke down.

I woke up to homemade chocolate cake (which L could get all ingredients of locally), a bottle of prosecco (imported on the sly from Dubai) and one of those happy birthday stringers (imported openly from Nairobi).  This was served on a tray which we mostly use to take our 24-hour security detail tea in late in the evenings sitting on a low stool I mainly use as an otomon (made from raw camel leather tied to unfinished wood). 

My staff came in early to wish me happy birthday, but also to continue our two day marathon security planning for possible al-qaeda attacks which will be targeted against....well, we're not quite sure who is the target or whether they are even possible to attack anything.  But nevertheless, we are forced to plan for it. 

A some point in the day, I have been offered a massage.  The offeror's hands had, five mintues before the offer, been hydro-peroxide-and-q-tiping a cat's ass.  Literally. 

This evening we will attend a BBQ which will likely be of a local goat or lamb variety.  There will be other food there - mostly imported from Dubai where all of our delicies arrive from.  The drinks will be supported by many attendees (booze potlucks being the operative social norm), as well as a couple of cases of bad beer (which L likes) imported in Land Cruisers driving over dirt roads from neighboring Ethiopia.  There will be music which will be from someone's iPod amplified by whosever computer speakers are closest. 

The four of us in my house (L and I and our roomates - a Swedish former-rugby-player, current-governance-sector-ngo-worker and his American wife current-schoolteacher) will drive 30 minutes to the other side of town dodging, goats, random children who don't look both ways, potholes the size of Orlando, al-Qeada operatives, chickens, donkeys pulling the only source of water for many, men sitting quietly together in open-air teashops listening to BBC, and likely a few crazy homeless people. The Swede, who will likely be driving (a consequence of my prepartying which will result in the violation of above stated social norm) will squint and be blinded multiple times due to the unlit roads throughout town.

Tomorrow we will arise late as it is my one day a week off.  All in all, one of my favorites.

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Wedding

Highlands and I got hitched.

This page will have some of the highlights.

Big_head had the first performance. 

Highland's_Bro had the second performance.

The first round of pictures, taken by my father, are here. 

Another round of pictures, taken by Lance / my mom, are here.

Other pictures for facebookers.  From Karen; From Alex.

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Building (in) a Developing Country

We had an epic rainstorm last night.  I had been waiting for one since we've moved into our compound as I was concerned about the drainage systems.  The soils here are the sandy clay stuff and because the clay makes the water not permeate the soils and because the sand makes the water flow easily, I was worried about what was happening whenever it rains.  We do a lot of gardening and are trying to keep our compound as green as possible here in the high desert.

Yet, that requires a lot of water.  And water is expensive, currently $8 per cubic meter if we truck it up or $3 per cubic meter on the nights that the water board decides to pump water into the main.  We do have a big reservoir for holding the water we use inside the house and a pump to pump it to the tanks on the roof to keep some semblance of water pressure.  We also use this water to keep our garden, orchard, bushes and trees alive. 

Our gardener is really good.  He has created a nice irrigation path for the water that comes into the compound from the hill above as well as much of the water that flows off the roof and around the compound.  Much of this water does get into the garden and orchard.  The problem is that it creates huge puddles that do eventually seep into the soil but generally deteriorate the fragile topsoils as well as create huge runoff problems, bringing all the crap into the compound from outside.  They have done their best with shovels, but now I'm going to have to bring in the heavy equipment!

Last night's rainstorm finally gave me a chance to see how the water was running into, out of, and around the compound.  We found four places where it will be useful and where we are able to build rainwater retention reservoirs.  These will capture the rainwater and let us use it to keep the garden alive with in the between rains.  It will also keep the massive pools of water from wreaking havoc on the top soil.  So we cited and sized the locations for the four new reservoirs.  We went out this morning to purchase most of the equipment we'll need to dig the two primary reservoirs.  Since it came out of my pocket, I'm going to have to wait until another paycheck to do the final two.  And now we are in the process of creating these things. 

This is the part of living in a developing country that I love.  The freedom to do what you want and know is right; the interaction with people who know different things than you do; and the realization that everything is essentially the same if you look hard enough for it.  You may have to do a lot of things yourself, but that is also exciting to me.  In the States I call someone and they provide me a service.  Here it is not so easy.  Since we've moved into this compound I've been a plumber or supervised VERY closely another plumber, I've also been or supervised electricians, carpenters, IT consultants, glass dealers, gardeners, hydrologic engineers, structural engineer, construction engineer, mechanical engineer, interior designer and many other trades that I never would have had the opportunity to become elsewhere. 

Supervising the building of these reservoirs will serve as the beginning of my learning curve for my next major project: building the first pool in this country and making it solar/wind powered and chemical free using a new salt chlorination system.

But first, back to my day job.

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Parenting, Gender Roles and My Wedding

As I clicked the category for this posting it occurred to me that for much of the first two years of this blog all I wrote about was categorized as "living" but that for the past three years or so that has decrescendoed to almost a non-existent situation.  Maybe I have spent much more time looking outward and not so much time looking inward, or maybe I have become a bit reticent to write about "me" as I embark on something akin to being a professional.

Nevertheless, the NY Times Magazine has a great piece on shared parenting that has gotten me thinking.  First a few quotes:

The most recent figures from the University of Wisconsin’s National Survey of Families and Households show that the average wife does 31 hours of housework a week while the average husband does 14 — a ratio of slightly more than two to one.
...

The lopsided ratio holds true however you construct and deconstruct a family. “Working class, middle class, upper class, it stays at two to one,” says Sampson Lee Blair, an associate professor of sociology at the University at Buffalo who studies the division of labor in families.

“And the most sadly comic data is from my own research,” he adds, which show that in married couples “where she has a job and he doesn’t, and where you would anticipate a complete reversal, even then you find the wife doing the majority of the housework.”
...

There is one pocket of American parenting in which equality is the norm or, at least, the mutually-agreed-upon goal. Same-sex couples cannot default to gender when deciding who does what at home. How these parents make their decisions, therefore, sheds some light on why married men and women act the way they do. They are the exceptions that both prove and challenge the rules.

“Heterosexual couples can learn from gay couples about sharing housework and child care,” says Esther D. Rothblum, a professor in the women’s studies department of San Diego State University whose comparative study of the relationships of 342 couples — lesbian, gay, heterosexual — was published in the journal Developmental Psychology in January. “They are good role models.”

There are a ton of other good nuggets of wisdom in the piece.  But here is the money quote: 

Sure, some of their tasks would fall along traditional gender lines. The point, they say, is not to spit at tradition for the heck of it but rather to think things through instead of defaulting to gender.

I think that for whatever reason that is almost exactly my world-view.  As my wedding is beginning its slow march towards reality I have been thinking a lot about gender roles, about tradition and about what the word "partner" really means to me. 

The sad news is that I have few very few answers to any of these solutions.  But I know that I am less tied to traditional views than many.  That does not mean that I eschew traditional gender roles.  At times, for whatever reason, they can be a handy resource.  When in a hurry Highlands cleans better and faster than I do (although my mother ensured that I would not be inadequate at housework, a value which many years of menial jobs reinforced).  I know things like turn on the car heater when your vehicle is overheating. 

Yet, the thing about these is when they become forced resentment brews.  I like the notion that is teased out in the article that what is important is expectations.  When those diverge and inevitably are not met resentment, frustration and anger build.  What is important?  Communicating what someone's expectations are to one's partner.  Many of the stories in the article are a bit kooky.  I do not foresee making color coded charts, but the themes of communicating expectations and embracing those that vary slightly from your own resonate very much with me.

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Automated Killer Robots

Link: Automated killer robots 'threat to humanity': expert.

Yes you read it correct.  AFP does the difficult reporting!

I'm surprised that they didn't interview Yoshimi for this article.

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Semper Fi, Mac.

When I was a young Marine Officer, I was in the depths of a dirty used bookstore in DC when this old timer came up to me.  I was in the Military History section trying to find this one book I was supposed to read and we struck up a conversation.  Turns out he had survived Iwo Jima and other battles in the Pacific.  I will always remember the way he slapped me on the back and said with a particular gleam: "Semper Fi, Mac, Semper Fi."  He had served his time, now I've served mine.  My contractual commitment ended on New Year's.  It is odd, in a way I miss having that connection hanging over my head. 

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RIP, Great Man of America, RIP

I meant to post this yesterday but was having technical difficulties.  If you haven't watched MLK's speech, if you've just seen the clips throughout your life.  Take a moment, or twelve and watch it here.  It is a magnificent achievement, and even if you are not in a position to dedicate your life towards ensuring the equalities that Dr. King was fighting for, even if you think you have no ability to contribute to a world where "justice rolls down like water, and righteousness like a mighty stream,"  even if you think there is little you can do, just watch it as a piece of Great American Art.  And at the end when Dr. King says "Free at last, free at last, thank god almighty we are free at last," think about some small thing that you can do to help.

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updated

finally took the time to upload the pictures from the germany/prague trip I took a few weeks ago with my dad. 

the georgia/azerbaijan pictures will come soon...i hope!

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howling through the days

I'm a howler monkey that is investigating the world.