PERSPECTIVE
An aid workers impressions as she travels the world building toilets.
Latest public adventure: to be determined.
Poems, photos and ramblings abound.


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September 28, 2010

Follow down

I felt I needed to follow up on a few things. So in all ernestness, I try to satisfy that subversive dark side and hence I will follow down.

* * *

Writing adventure:

With all my ranting about numbers, you'd've thunk I'd get them right myself, or at least use some consistant reporting format. Last time I mentioned my progress, well I screwed it all up. So, in fact I am 0/4, awaiting results on 1 submission. Some time back I wrote 4/5, which doesn't even make sense. (Even less than the double contraction in the phrase "you'd've thunk.")

To those of you who are new, that means I have entered 5 writing contests or competitions of somesort, I have not won any of them and I am awaiting the results of 1.

The sixth event is in view. It is not a contest at all I don't think, so maybe I won't count it in the tally, but it is a writing event in which I will participate. Stay tuned for mid-October. (Thanks for the tip, Sophie.)

Not very good results, but half way through my adventure, I think it is really hard to win these things. Who knows what "they" are looking for. Who knows who I am competing against. But I do know one thing, I am having fun and it is making me write more.

As for my ego, it is happily enjoying trying to make my blog better.

* * *

Life adventure:

Maybe the events of the past few weeks is why I feel the need to follow down, rather than up. Earthquake. Floods. Mouse in the office.

There was no major damage from the earthquake (a few things fell down that were already falling, I thought that someone was kicking my bed). More significant was the way it made people feel.

Summary Data: Magnitude 4.4, 3 minutes to verify it by a USGS siesmologist, 3 more minutes to get my own GPS point from my phone, download the KML file from USGS, plot the points in GoogleEarth and make the following map. 19.2 miles from me (as the crow flies). I love it. How cool is that!

The bias is clear. How me-centered is all that data? Hiesenberg... not sure how he fits in, but he must. By making the map did I affect anything? I spent a few minutes with the gaurds showing them the map. They may have thought I was nuts, but they seemed to enjoy the company.


And then the floods and winds came down from heaven with great wrath, and many of the 8 (9?) month old ramshackle tents and tarps got blown to shit. Billboards flew around among the power lines. People died. And how did it affect me? The office went into overdrive. Very exciting and good learning from some talented folks.

But the mouse in the office was the real emergency, and like all big storms, he got a name. Murphy the WASH Cluster mascot mouse.

Oh boy do I sound... jaded? tired? twisted? I assure you, I am all of those things.

* * *

For you folks at home, I do not live in a tent anymore. When I am not in Port au Prince, I live in a 2x3m room in a metal shipping container. Quite safe in an earthquake and in a storm. When I am in Port au Prince, I live on my friends' floors. Still a hobo singin' that lullaby.

September 19, 2010

Indicators

The answer is 42.
But what does 42 mean, really?

Remember two things: Heisenberg and Bias.

* * *
Dirty old Heisenberg

If you look my way
I might smile or scowl
or curse
depending
on who you might be
friend or foe
or dirty old man.
Even when I seem
to do nothing
know that ignoring you
is a calculated reaction.
* * *
Inherent Bias

We wear yellow glasses. We are looking at a blue world. We see a green world. If we know our glasses are yellow, then hopefully we will remember that the green world we are looking at is actually bluer than that which we see as green.


* * *

The problem of measurement or observation or knowing is not new. Heisenberg was mentioned and there is Schrödinger and his poor cat or the quantum suicide scenario, which are more obtuse discussions about observers and the observed, whose practicality is questionable.  I am a scientist and aid worker, so that’s what’s practical to me.

An interesting and practical discussion about the perspective of being outsider on the Tales From The Hood blog rung true with me in certain situations, but he left something out.  He is right, sometimes an outsider can filter out a local bias, but sometimes an outsider can exaggerate a local bias as well. The important thing is to be aware of one’s effect and one’s biases and the situation and the complex interactions therein. We can never eliminate these things, but we can at least be aware of them.

* * *

Intelligent scientists and aid workers alike know that by measuring something you do indeed affect it. We also know, despite not being quantum physicists, that we will never know the exact value or position or whatever. Whether numbers or simple observations, we are careful to minimize these things by triangulation, awareness and thoughtful measurement methods.

An example: Hydrogeologists poke holes (i.e. dig wells) into aquifers and in doing so disrupt what was once, and in being aware of that, we accept it because it is good enough to understand the system. It is that, in fact, our goal in observing anything: to understand what is going on. 

When we do science in aid work, we are still scientists and indeed report a range of values or other interpretations that reflect uncertainty. The methodology (how these numbers are arrived at) is rigorous and has been peer reviewed, published and duplicated by experts. The documentation of such methodology is available, transparent and clear, even to someone outside the relevant technical field who has basic mathematics background, some curiosity and half a brain.

An example: We measure a certain number of randomly sampled children to represent a greater population which is very specifically defined and say, for example, that for this defined population there is an 80% chance that we are beyond the emergency threshold of global acute malnutrition or that the level of X problem is Y% with a 90% confidence interval of +/-Z.

* * *

On NOT understanding Heisenberg: The danger in science and in aid work is when people do not take the time to understand what a number or observation means: how it was measured, the constraints and limitation inherent in it, some people don’t even know the units associated with that number (e.g. 42). Without some knowledge about the mechanics of the observation, you will never know what anything actually says about the system or population or, really, about anything.

On NOT understanding Bias: This can be your bias (your yellow glasses), as well as the bias of the presentation. The most dangerous and common thing of all is to talk about a number or to compare two numbers that are not related at all and then draw some wide-sweeping conclusions from them. There are many particularly worrying examples of this. Some examples of this are well intentioned but careless, and some straight-up-dirty manipulation of data.

Back to practicality. We make observations to come to conclusions. I hate conclusions. They are usually wrong because they depend on a complexity of things. But alas, conclusions are a necessary evil.

Understanding Heisenberg + Bias = better conclusions. Knowing what the number or observation means helps filter some bias, but can’t get it all. By being aware of bias, and especially the bias of the audience, and by trying to take off or lighten the yellow glasses makes the conclusion stronger, more realistic and inherently better.

* * *
One problem with my argument is that it is too idealistic and simple. Bad science, bad measurements and bad observations are rampent. Which makes pretty much any view of them moot. (But can you expect me to address everything in a single blog post? Really?) And the point is, by using the noggin a little and not just accepting what you read, you can identify this "badness."

Another problem with my argument is that I am guilty too, I sometimes draw conclusions too fast, I have biases, I have a sick sense of humor that gets the best of my biases. But sheesh, I am human. The point is not that I know best, it is that I am thinking about it and you should too.

* * *

Did I bore you? Confuse you?
If so, read it again.
If not, enjoy lighter side of indicators.

* * *

In every niche there are standard, quantifiable indicators. For me professionally, this often boils down to things like the prevalence of WASH related diseases, number of people per latrine, liters of water per person per day, fecal coliforms per sample etc. We also have qualitative indicators which may give another, less number-full view of the situation, but equally valuable.

I have come up with a few indicators of my own, which mean nothing, are not scientific and are most undoubtedly influenced by my sick sense of humor and biases. The ones I will present here relate to the level of development of a place, mostly the economic development of that place.

I hoped I didn’t have to say this, but I guess I need a disclaimer: In all seriousness, these are really complicated subjects. Please realize that by presenting these ridiculous indicators, that I am demonstrating exactly the danger of this entire discussion. My apparent hypocrisy is intentional. I am a sarcastic person and I intend to remain that way.

* * *

Fire: And god said let there be light, and it was good. And man discovered fire and flint. And then matches were available on the local market. And then lighters. And then lighters with flashing lights inside. And then lighters with flashing light and a button to make those flashing disco lights be projected onto a close wall or floor.

Beer for your buck: The bigger and cheaper the beer, the more dire the economic situation of the country.  Can the average cost per swig of beer be positively correlated to the average income of a household or somehow be an inverse proxy indicator for GDP? You find big, cheap beers in Congo and Guinea; smaller, expensive beers exported from Europe. Do note that Budweiser has a pretty cheap, twenty-two ounce beer. America is going to shit.

McDonalds for peace: Some people claim that there are fewer wars and less strife in countries with McDonalds. Clearly a chicken-vs-egg argument should ensue, but in my recent history I have lived in countries with relatively high levels of strife and not one had a McDonalds. (Not my own idea, just one I thought was worth sharing.)

Gambling as an indicator of early recovery after displacement:

I see Haiti eight months after the earthquake. Life is not normal here and won’t be for a long time, but it is transitioning back slowly. With this bias, I look for signs of normalcy. I search them out. And I found one. The lottery is up and running, people are gambling again, so one can conclude that this place is getting back to normal.

The lottery kiosks or shacks or buildings are newly painted. They say “BANK – LOTTO- CHEZ TITI.” Other types of kiosks haven’t been repainted, even if they are starting to reopen. Not the water sellers. Not the pharmacies. But indeed the lottery bosses are back in business. Folks are crowded around the blackboards on the walls and doors which are updated twice a day with the winning numbers. A clear early warning indicator of recovery.

So my boss asks, can you assess Maya Camp, where people are re-settling?  How is it there? I visit. I don’t even have to get out of my air-conditioned, white Land Cruiser to draw my conclusion. I see that a Chez Titi kiosk is up and running within the camp and I know that these people are ready to get back to normal. They are doing fine.


* * *

Perhaps I can solicit Paul Collier and his army of ingenious grad students to run an in depth retro-analysis on existing data to check the validity of my new-fangled-sarcastic indicators.

* * *

On inspiration: This post was gourbled out of my head, somewhat, by checking out the aforementioned blog, and in particular his post about Skynard and simplicity, actually many of his posts. Clearly I dig this dude’s style and outlook on aid work. Take some time to check out his posts.

Editorial note added afterwords: Hey number-geeks and aid-workers, here is some interesting questions posed by statiscians dealing with the MGDS. It's a start. (Thanks Trish, for pointing this out to me.)

September 15, 2010

Geology rocks

I admit that I sometimes mock tourists, but today hypocrisy bit me in the ass: I couldn't help myself and so I took fifteen minutes to be a tourist. To my credit, I was a geologist-wanna-be tourist, which is way cooler than obnoxious Americans or teenagers of any nationality.

I stopped at my new favorite place - where the biggest fissures I have seen are. Every so often we have to slow down because there are dips or drops in the road. All from the earthquake. But this point just blows me away. The driver laughed when I tried to explain how impressed I was. It's a little hard to explain, even here, in English.

I am such a geek. I dare not show my lack of actual geology knowledge, despite my degree (I studied the water in the rocks, not so much the rocks). Of course I studied basic geology too, and saw photos and learned about faults and earthquakes and the wrath of plate tectonics. I lived in California where you have the San Andres, but the signs of creep I saw there are nothing, I tell you nothing, compared to this.

Geologist friends, please enlighten us.

Holy shit. (Expletives! YAY!) There is nothing else to say. I mean really? This happened in seconds. Imagine.

On the left you see the driver looking into the crack that opened up. This is close up, but the fissure goes on forever. See the photo on the right is only about half of it. (And yes, it is full of trash... we are eight months after.)               

These two are looking the other way up the road. The crack on the right side of the pavement is the same fissure as above, from the other direction. But that is not what I am trying to show here: you see how it is wavy. This used to be flat. Flat. Flat. And now, it's wavy. Awesome.



I am reminded of an ironic geology bumper sticker that encourages us all to "Stop Plate Tectonics!"

September 10, 2010

Pissed off

This may be my most explicit post. I do hold back and usually keep it pretty clean. But not this time. It's not that I am having a bad day, it is just that today I will share my judgment and rancor.

* * *

Looking up, the remnants of tropical storm Gaston makes the clouds churn, black and full of rain over the mountains, while towards the bay is white and puffy. Not unique, simply a beautiful, complex sky.

Looking down, the steep street is dirty and the smell of urine flows uphill. Urine in the street is ubiquitous, not unique to Port au Prince (see posts about Kabul and Kenya), and today is no different than any other, except that I have to blame someone.

I blame the men around the world who whip it out and piss along the concrete walk.

I drove about an hour to a meeting and (just like any other day) along the way I saw at least seven men pissing in the open. Not behind a tree, not tucked away somewhere, not in the woods. Along the street. I could see the streams of their piss sparkle in the sun.

They disgust me.

* * *

The bitch with black spots,
her white coat brown, rough and crusted,
mangy red teets swing, panting
while she squats
over discarded plastic,
rotting fruits and a flat styrofoam box.

The man with oil stained jeans,
has no coat, steps over that same debris,
and shields just his cock, pausing
while he pees
upright, upon a busy street
exposing his sequined stream.

* * *

One could attack me as a hypocrite. And that is fine, perhaps I am. But an honest one.

I grew up peeing in the woods, I pee in the bush on a long car ride, I am an expert and rarely wet my feet. I also have no aversion to excreta (that's my job) or even to the smell of urine (which is in fact sterile). But there is something disturbing about city-scape, concrete laden, public man-pissing. Some of what bothers me deeply, perhaps, is seeing the pee raining down without regard to the throngs of strangers who are forced to watch this display. Forgive my sexist tendency, but no woman anywhere in the world would take a piss on a busy street. (Yes okay, indeed if she is ill or completely wasted.) There is something to be said for respect and dignity.

September 6, 2010

Double rubble trouble

Writing contest update:  nothing to report. still 0/5, awaiting 1.
The adventure is neither gone, nor forgotten. 

* * *

Ego update: How do you like my new domain name? Pretty cool, eh? Pretty egotistical, if you ask me, but still pretty cool. I will be fixing some of the formatting and making it better, slowly by slowly. Feedback is welcome.  In other ego-news, I was featured in a "local do-gooder" story from the newspaper where I went to high school.

 * * * 

Today's front page.

Not all the graffiti is artistic, though it all seems to be idealistic.

On the walls that stand or slump, amongst the graffiti, there are stenciled and spray painted signs in green, yellow or red. They read "MTPTC" and then a number. MTPTC means "Ministère des Travaux Publics, Transport et Communications." The number, I assume, relates to an inspector or zone. The color indicates if the building is safe, needs repairs or is unable to be repaired. I can't wait to see the final maps. An utterly fascinating and impressive endeavor.

Today driving to meetings, we passed teams of people in yellow t-shirts with Haitian flags upon them. The people each had a bucket. Some were lined up passing one bucket to the next up a narrow hill. In the bucket was rubble.You can't get machines in to many places, but you can get buckets.

Up to 20 million cubic yards of rubble is a lot. If each bucket contains half a cubic foot (only filled a little so they can be lifted), that makes over a billion buckets (hope my math is right, it is a little late). Of course some of that will be moved with machines, but still, that's a hell of a lot of rubble.

Men climb the skeletons and crimped bodies of buildings with pick axes. They slam and crack, little by little, separating the concrete from the re-bar. The concrete adds to the rubble. The re-bar is sold and recycled. They are strategizing on how to use the rubble. Inventors bring in hand powered machines to break it up, sort it by size, make ballast, aggregate for new concrete mixes and new houses. The rubble fascinates me almost as much as the fissures.

As usual, to save the world you have to focus.

* * * 

People sometimes ask if I live in a tent. For the past two weeks, yes. Military style tents within tents. Hot water with pressure that will take your skin off. This place is Camp Charlie and, like fissures and spray paint, is fascinating.

* * * 

For a more informative view of this situation, check out Jesse's blog that I linked to in the last post. He has an interesting perspective and is much more factual than I.

September 1, 2010

What was once















What was once upright
rigid brightly painted or gray
is resting
tired
from a violence
absent of aggression

* * *

I can not claim to know what was once. Here.

From one perspective, I gape at walls and floors and ceilings draped over one another. I stand upon, step over fissures in the road. I listen to stories and gasp, knowing that I am only an observer, but not the only observer.  My own perspective quite the same as many, except that I am probably more intent than most on getting a good picture of the fissures in the road to impress my geologist friends.

From another perspective, this event has been measured by standard metrics: Richter, deaths, displacement of people or earth, monetary value of infrastructure destroyed.
 
Heisenberg was right. Absorbing light off the white rubble changes its direction, phase, superposition, tint, interpretation. Putting a number on this scene affects it.

* * *

I have seen the palace and the jail, the cathedral and the bridge. Each of them have split in half and what was once proud is crass.
I did not enter convinced by ghosts and twisted iron bar that locks inside some stories that only come from far.