Travelogue day 6: Abidjan, Ivory Coast

By this time we'd gotten pretty used to seeing armed soldiers at our ports of call, but Ivory Coast took it to a whole new level.  There were soldiers with dogs.  We were warned not to take their picture, so I had to sneak this shot through the bus window.



Abidjan, the port city where we had docked, is somewhat modern (though not terribly photogenic) but you still see a lot of foot traffic on major roads.



That cart full of palettes is being pulled by this guy:



And once you get out of town, it's typical rural African chaos:







They took us to a cultural center and museum housed in an old French colonial build which had seen better days.  I'm not sure which was more reflective of the culture, the art work, or the soldiers.

I thought this sculpture was interesting

It's typically African in its very frank and unapologetic depiction of motherhood, but the part I found interesting was the side view:

Notice the dagger strapped to her left arm.

Another interesting display were these photographs from colonial times:





Clearly, things have been fucked up here for a very, very long time.

Here's an idea

May I make a suggestion?  Maybe, just maybe, the U.S. would do better in the battle for hearts and minds if we stopped behaving like flaming assholes.

As Mohammed Tariq Mahmood sat in the departure lounge of London’s Gatwick Airport last week, he was surrounded by giddy children, ecstatic for the 11-hour flight that would ferry them to Disneyland. 

But they never [boarded the plane]. A border control officer, on orders from Washington, intervened, Mahmood said, telling him and his brother that their family of 11 had been barred from the flight.
...
The family, he said, had applied online for a visa waiver using DHS’s Electronic System for Travel Authorization. The waivers were granted, he said, and the family was able to check in for their flight and clear security without any problems.

Barring a Muslim family on their way to Disneyland from entering the country?  At the last minute?  When they are about to board the plane?  After they've gone through all the proper channels and been granted visa waivers?  With no explanation?  Seriously?

U.S. officials strongly denied that the Mahmood family was targeted based on their religion.

Right.  OK, maybe it really didn't have anything to do with their looking like they could possibly be Muslim.  Maybe the Disney folks tapped the DHS on the shoulder and said, "You know, the lines here at the magic kingdom are really getting out of hand.  Could you help us out?"

Yeah, I'm sure that was it.

[UPDATE: It appears that what might have triggered this latest round of douchebaggery at DHS is a Facebook post, one that was almost certainly a joke, and most likely not written by any of the members of the family that were barred from the country.  I wonder, if I were not a citizen, would I be barred from entering the U.S. for writing this blog post?]

We interrupt this travelogue...

... to wish you a Merry Christmas / Solstice / Saturnalia / Chanuka / Yule / Kwanzaa / Festivus/ Holiday or whatever your winter festival of choice may be.  I wish health and happiness to you and yours.  May there be peace on earth and good will towards all living things.  (Except mosquitos.  Ooooh, I hate mosquitos!)



(That's actually a photo from the trip.  This tree is in the lobby of the Saxon Hotel in Johannesburg.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.)

Travelogue day 5: Banjul, The Gambia

Yes, the locals call it "The Gambia", not "Gambia."  (By way of contrast, it's just "Ukraine", not "The Ukraine."  I think the only other country with a "The" in front of its name is The Netherlands.)

The Gambia seemed a lot more ready to receive tourists than Senegal had been.  There was a welcoming committee singing and dancing at the dock.

Still, the local transportation was still pretty rustic.

We rode in that vehicle for a good hour and a half (each way).  You see a lot of things that you don't see much of in California.  It's a little hard to see, but this guy is carrying a very large tuna on his bicycle:

All over the place we saw shops selling overstuffed armchairs on the street.

Some of the natives were camera shy.

Others not so much.

Eventually we arrived at our destination, a wildlife refuge in the rain forest outside of town, where they fed us lunch and took us on a nice canoe ride.

There were a lot of baboons.  They were accustomed enough to humans that you could get pretty close to them and get some really amazing shots.  It's a shame that the light wasn't better.  It was overcast all day, so the light was really flat.

Did I mention there were a lot of baboons, and they were used to having humans around?

Got some nice bird shots too.  I don't remember what this one is called.  

All in all, just a pleasant and mostly uneventful day.  Which turned out to be pretty remarkable in this part of the world.

Travelogue, day 4: Dakar, Senegal

Senegal was our first port of call in West Africa proper, i.e. on the continent rather than an island.  The country seemed to be not quite ready for prime time in terms of welcoming western tourists.

Dakar is a city of 1 million people (3 million if you count the suburbs), and like most large third world cities it is chaotic and dirty.  Most vehicles are diesels, and emissions controls are unheard of.



Street vendors are everywhere:



as are beggars



and, somewhat incongruously, these ads for Nutella:



Notwithstanding the chaos and the poverty, the city seems to be vibrant and occasionally we got little glimpses of a unique culture.  For example, these cheerfully (if somewhat haphazardly) painted busses are ubiquitous:



There is an indigenous art form called "sand painting" where the artist applies glue to a wooden board and "paints" with various colors of sand.  The results can be quite striking.



The painting you see the artist holding was done in about five minutes.  The ones on the wall in the background are much more elaborate.

But there are also signs of (ahem) ineffective government everywhere as well.  This is, as you will see if you keep reading this series, a recurring theme in Africa: corruption is a way of life.  For example, some of the worst slums sit in the shadow of this multi-million dollar sculpture:



It is the tallest statue in Africa, and it was built by a North Korean company.

Our bus driver was particularly proud of the fact that the government had recently managed to import an enormous shipment of onions, which we could see as we came back to the port to rejoin our ship.





One final interesting bit o' trivia: Senegal does not have its own currency.  It uses the West African CFA Franc, which is a sort of African Euro, with eight countries sharing a single currency.  One U.S. dollar currently trades for about 600 CFA francs.  Wherever I go I try to collect some of the local currency, but when I asked people if they could exchange some dollars for CFAs they looked at me like I was crazy.  Why would anyone in their right mind want them?  I finally did manage to get a few tattered old bills for my collection, which seems like a fitting metaphor for the West African economy.

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Travelogue day 3: Cape Verde

Cape Verde (pronounced Cape Verd -- the final E is silent) was our first port of call that was no longer part of Europe.  Madeira is part of Portugal, and the Canary Islands are part of Spain, but Cape Verde is today an independent country.  Like Madeira and the Canaries, it's an archipelago off the coast of Africa, so it's not quite "really" Africa yet, but we could definitely tell that we were not in Kansas any more.

Parts of Cape Verde are beautiful.  There are pristine beaches...

(That's our ship in the background.)

Some lovely Portugese colonial architecture...

A charming central market...

(as long as you ignore the fact that there is no refrigeration for the fish)

It's tricky to take good photographs because the locals (understandably) don't like to have their photos taken.  But they'll pose for you if you offer them a tip.  This woman's job was to sweep leaves off the gravel in the background.

This one was selling food out of this little stand.

And this was our guide.

His name is Joe.  He's a native Cape Verdeian but he grew up in the United States so he spoke flawless English with a heavy Brooklyn accent.  If you ever find yourself in Cape Verde, I highly recommend him.  You'll find him by the dock along with all the other local guides hustling for business.

Joe showed us around for about five hours.  He did a terrific job, and he did it on spec.  We had no agreed-upon price, and at the end when we asked him how much we owed him for the day's work he said that what he would really like is if we could bring him some fresh fruit from the ship, and some English-language books.  He didn't care what the titles were.

This is not an uncommon experience.  Seven years ago when we were in East Africa, I went into town in Zanzibar.  To get into town you had to walk a gauntlet of high-pressure sales tactics from local merchants, so I had deliberately taken no money with me in the hopes that this would encourage the locals to leave me alone.  It mostly worked, but this one guy simply would not take no for an answer, and for two hours he walked around town with me, showing me the sights.  I was very glad he did, because we ended up going to some places where I would not have felt safe on my own.  At the end, after walking around with me for two hours in 90 degree heat and 90% humidity, he asked for the sweaty T-shirt I was wearing.  I gave it to him.  He was happy with it.

This, and many other similar experiences I've had traveling in third-world countries, are why I have zero tolerance for people who say that poor people are poor because they don't work hard enough or are unwilling to take risks.

Travelogue, day 2: La Palma and Tenerife

[Third in a series]

After Madeira we had two back-to-back ports of call in the Canary Islands of La Palma and Tenerife.  They were two separate stops on two different days, but I'm going to lump them together because there's not that much interesting to tell, and I want to get to the main attraction, West Africa.

The Canary Islands are volcanic tropical islands not unlike Hawaii or the Galapagos.  The most interesting thing about Tenerife is that it was the site of the world's worst ever aviation accident, and the most interesting thing about La Palma is that it is rumored to pose an existential threat to the eastern seaboard of the U.S. (though apparently, it's not true).  Both islands grow a lot of bananas, offer a nice tropical getaway easily accessible from Europe, and that is about the extent of their claims to fame as far as I could tell.

On La Palma I took a tour into the rain forest, and decided to go off-script and explore this interesting-looking path:



which led me to this tunnel:



Unfortunately, I had left my cell phone behind (I have an old CDMA iPhone which is mostly useless overseas) so I had no light, and the tunnel was long enough that I could not see through to the other side.  Fortunately, a good samaritan couple showed up and let me follow them through.  The tunnel led to this spectacular waterfall:

On Tenerife, my experience was almost the exact opposite.  Tenerife also has a rain forest, but my tour took me up to the volcano, well above the clouds and the rain forest.



To me it was indistinguishable from parts of the American southwest.



Next stop: Cape Verde.  That's when things started to get more interesting.

Travelogue: West Africa day 1

Well, it wasn't really day 1 because it took us two days to get there, but I figured it would be easier to number things sequentially.  Our first port of call was Funchal, Madeira, which is off the coast of Morocco, but technically part of Portugal.  It's a quaint little European town clinging to the side of a series of cliffs, not unlike Amalfi or Cinque Terre in Italy, though not quite so dramatic.



It's nice enough, but the most interesting bit is this place, which is near the port:



That rock is the self-styled Principality of Ponthina, ruled by the benevolent dictator Prince Dom Renato Barros (who, regrettably, I did not have the honor of meeting whilst I was there).  Here's what it looks like going in:



It's the world's smallest country, much smaller than Vatican City or even the Republic of Molossia.  There are no passport checks (good thing because I didn't have mine with me), but there is this cool statue of Santa Claus on top:



And a little tiki hut:



And some cats (gotta haz cats if you're gonna write about it on the Internet, right?)





And that's about all there is to tell about Madeira.  Oh, and I think they make some wine there too ;-)

Travelogue: West Africa, Prologue

I just got back from a six-week-long trip to western and southern Africa.  On previous trips like this I wrote travelogue entries in real-time, but there has been a rash of burglaries in our neighborhood recently and so I decided it would not be wise to advertise the fact that we were out of town.  So I'm going to go back and blog about the trip stop-by-stop as if it were happening in real time.

The trip consisted of two parts.  The first was a cruise on the Oceania Marina from Lisbon to Cape Town, and the second was a safari that took us to Victoria Falls, the Okavango delta, and the Madikwe game reserve in South Africa.  Then at the end we spent two days in Johannesburg before returning home (though, as you will see, we didn't get to see much of the town).

We flew to Lisbon on Lufthansa by way of Frankfurt.  We were originally scheduled to have a two-hour layover in Frankfurt, but two months before we left, Lufthansa suddenly cancelled our connecting flight, which left us with an eight-hour layover.  That's an awfully long time to be hanging around a terminal (particularly with ten time zones worth of jet lag), so we decided to get a day room at one of the hotels adjoining the airport.

The flight to Frankfurt was uneventful.  Once we arrived, it was quite a hike to get to the hotel, but we finally found it.  Nancy settled down for a nap, but I had gotten some sleep on the plane so I decided to go exploring.  When I did, I found this:



A close-up:



There was our original connection to Lisbon, the one that would have given us a two-hour layover instead of the eight-hour one we were now facing.

To say that I was annoyed would be quite the understatement.

Since I'm not writing in real time, I can fast-forward a few days and report what our travel agent told us when we reported this to him.  As you can see from the departures board, the flight to Lisbon is not a Lufthansa flight, it's a TAP (Air Portugal) flight.  It had been cross-listed as a Lufthansa flight.  According to our agent, TAP cancelled the flight and then reinstated it without the cross listing.

I was a little skeptical of this explanation even at the time.  I found it hard to believe that Lufthansa's lawyers did not insist on having some sort of contractual obligation that would prevent TAP from pulling the rug out from under its customers like this.  I thought I would never really know the truth, but it turns out I was wrong about that.  The Internet never forgets, and the record shows that this flight did operate under a Lufthansa code share that day:



Maybe I should write a letter to Lufthansa's CEO.

Notwithstanding the extra delay, we finally made it to Lisbon, spent the night there, and the next day embarked on our journey.  As it happens, it turns out there are much worse things that can happen while traveling than having a flight delayed by six hours.  On the ship I encountered a couple whose bags had been lost, and were not located until the end of the three-week cruise -- in San Francisco!  So maybe I should just count my blessings and forget about getting bumped off the earlier Lisbon flight.

Stay tuned.

Those who live by the wingnut shall die by the wingnut

I must confess to engaging in more than a little schadenfreude in watching the Republican party leadership reaping what they have sown.

Less than three months before the kickoff Iowa caucuses, there is growing anxiety bordering on panic among Republican elites about the dominance and durability of Donald Trump and Ben Carson and widespread bewilderment over how to defeat them. 

Party leaders and donors fear that nominating either man would have negative ramifications for the GOP ticket up and down the ballot, virtually ensuring a Hillary Rodham Clinton presidency and increasing the odds that the Senate falls into Democratic hands.

Awww.

Colonizing space won't save us

I don't have too much time for non-work-related writing nowadays, but I really feel the need to spread this meme.  Earlier this week I got into a little dust-up with a hacker-news user called moonchrome over the sustainability of exponential growth.  It was in response to a story about the catastrophic fires in Indonesia that are intentionally set in order to clear farmland for oil palms, i.e. the plants from which coconut oil is produced.  Oil palms have become a growth industry (no pun intended) since trans-fats have become unfashionable.

During that exchange I suddenly realized that there's probably a whole segment of the population that thinks that overpopulation is not a problem because — space colonization!  When earth gets overcrowded, we'll just move to Mars.  And besides, those Malthusians have been crying wolf since forever.  No matter what happens, technology will save us.

Sorry to be the one to break it to you, but no, it won't, and if you think it will you don't understand the truly awesome destructive power of exponential growth.

There's a classic puzzle that goes like this: imagine you have a jar filled with growth medium and a single bacterium of a species that divides twice an hour.  After a week, the jar is full.  At what point was it half-full?

The classical answer is: half an hour before the end of the week.  But that is wrong.  The real answer is that the problem as posed is not possible.  A week's worth of unchecked bi-hourly doubling would result in a bacterial population vastly greater than the number of elementary particles in the universe.

It helps only a little that our doubling time at the moment is running about 60 years rather than 30 minutes.  That stretches the week out to a few hundred or a few thousand years depending on whether you take the total biomass of earth or the mass of the universe as your limiting factor.  Predicting the future is usually a fool's errand, but I hope I don't have to convince you that before we have converted every last carbon atom on earth into a human body, life will get very, very unpleasant.

Even if we manage to colonize Mars, that will only help a little.  Imagine that we are able to completely terraform Mars, and produce a biomass more or less equal to that of earth.  For starters, colonizing Mars will only help the situation here on earth if we are able to emigrate en masse, which isn't very realistic.  But even if we were able to do that, having one more planet only buys us one more doubling time, that is, 60 years at current growth rates, after which we would be right back where we started.  And now to get ourselves out of that mess we need two more planets!

OK, say the optimists, so we'll go to the next solar system.  No, we won't.  Even sending a robot probe to the nearest star is a pipe dream at the moment.  The massive emigration required for interstellar colonization to improve the situation here on earth is a pipe dream N times over for some very large value of N.  And even if that were not so, as I mentioned earlier, even if you take the total mass of the universe as your limiting factor you only get out to a few thousand years.  That's the blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things.

The simple fact of the matter is that exponential growth is necessarily transient.  Always.  It is not possible to sustain exponential growth in a finite universe.  At some point, any instance of exponential growth will cease.  The only question is whether it happens because we decide to stop it, or because we discover the hard way what the limiting factor actually turns out to be.

Personally, I hope we do the former, because dealing with the latter will not be fun.  But to achieve that we have to change our collective mindset.  We have to start thinking about steady-state as the goal rather than exponential growth, because open-ended growth is simply not an option.  If we don't control our growth, then sooner or later the laws of physics (and mathematics) will do it for us.

Lincoln Chafee deserves a do-over

Normally I too would have very little tolerance for a Senator making lame-sounding excuses for having cast a disastrously wrong vote, but I nonetheless think that Lincoln Chafee got a bum rap over his vote to repeal Glass-Steagall.  Look at the actual timeline of what happened back in 1999:

The final vote came on Nov. 4, 1999, the same day Mr. Chafee was sworn in as Rhode Island’s senator. He filled the seat vacated by the death of his father, John Chafee, on Oct. 24, 1999.  [Emphasis added.]

So... his dad dies and a week and a half later he finds himself on the Senate floor having to cast a vote on this bill that is on its way to being passed by an overwhelming bipartisan vote (90-8 with two abstentions).  His vote isn't going to make a whit of difference in the outcome.  Under those circumstances, I don't think it was completely unreasonable for him to decide to punt on his homework and just go with the flow.  Surely not his finest hour, but you know, if that's the worst mistake he ever made in his political career I think he would actually make a fine president.

A Moral Puzzle

I was discussing idea-ism with someone the other day when I came up with what turns out to be a very interesting moral dilemma.  Unlike the classic trolley problems, this is actually a somewhat realistic scenario, and one on which reasonable people really do seem to disagree.  Here it is:

John is a wealthy businessman whose heart is failing. If he doesn’t receive a transplant he will die. John has a large family, and his business has many employees. If he dies, they will suffer various degrees of emotional and economic pain. 

John travels to Malawi, the world’s poorest country, where the average income is about $250 per year. He finds a 20-year-old man (let’s call him Achmed) whose tissue type matches John’s, and offers him $15,000 in exchange for his heart (which will, of course, result in Achmed's death). $15,000 is pocket change to John, but it is an unthinkably large amount of money to Achmed. Life expectancy in Malawi is about 50 years, so this is twice what Achmed can reasonably expect to earn in the rest of his life. It will substantially improve the standard of living for his family, to say nothing of the fact that with one less mouth to feed (since Achmed will be gone) the money will go even further. Achmed’s brother is willing to adopt Achmed’s children, so they will not be orphans. The money will substantially improve Achmed’s family’s standard of living. It will allow Achmed’s children to attend school and give them a shot at lifting themselves out of poverty. And Achmed is not well-loved by his family. He’s a bit of a neer-do-well. What little money he currently earns he mostly spends on alcohol, and when he gets drunk he becomes abusive. He will not be missed. And Achmed knows all this, and so his life is not particularly happy, at least not when he’s sober. So everyone will be happier if Achmed accepts the offer, possibly even including Achmed, even though he doesn’t really want to die (or at least he thinks he doesn’t).

The question: is it moral for John to make Achmed this offer?  Would it be moral for Achmed to accept it?  Why?

I am actively soliciting people's opinions on this.  Please weigh in in the comments.

Coming up for air

I've been away, both literally and figuratively.  It has been over a month since I wrote a blog post.  This is in part because I've been busy with my startup, and in part because I've been on a trip to the Northwest Passage.  I would have written a travelogue, but we were so far out in the middle of nowhere that we had no internet connection for two weeks.  It was an interesting experience to be off the grid for that long.  People were starting to get a little antsy.  Personally, I thought it was kind of refreshing to be unplugged for a while.

The Northwest Passage is at once amazing and terrifying.  Amazing because it's the furthest I've ever felt from civilization.  At one point we were visiting a little Innuit village well north of the arctic circle and I decided to go for a walk out of town to see the world's most northerly golf course.  When I got there I realized I was probably, at just over a mile, further from another human being than I had ever been in my entire life.

The greens are made of astroturf.  There are no fairways.  The whole course is basically one giant super-gnarly sand trap.

The scary bit was that the Northwest Passage is now almost entirely free of ice. We did manage to find some (complete with polar bears) but we had to go out of our way.

So for two weeks we navigated one of the most notoriously treacherous and ice-bound waterways on the planet on completely calm and ice-free waters, under clear blue skies.  At one point in the trip I was actually comfortable taking my shoes and socks off and walking around barefoot and in a T-shirt.

It was beautiful, but it was creepy.  The arctic is supposed to be cold, dammit!

I don't have near enough time to do a full writeup right now, but I do want to share two more images.

No, that is not a watercolor, it's a photograph.  Of actual scenery.  No photoshopping.  It really did look like that.  And then on the other side of the boat it looked like this:

That's a moonrise.  Again, completely unaltered.