Ive got no idea what they are talking about.
I hope im driving them in the right direction.
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
The Sudan - 18
Ive got no idea what they are talking about.
I hope im driving them in the right direction.
The Sudan - 17
Well the little bird that was flying round our workshop appears to have got out somehow, but hes been replaced with an 8" lizard scurrying around the ceiling. Thank heavens for their little sticky feet - id be mortified if that fella fell on me.
Our car got stopped again by the police on way to the venue this morning. This time it felt a little more agitated. We had a different driver - a bit less cool than our usual driver Jamal, and the policeman was a bit more scruffy in his tatty blue uniform than the crisp white uniformed policeman the other day. I think the blue boys are traffic cops. There was a lot of shouting and arguing through the opened drivers window until the driver was ordered out and marched off to a waiting police car. In the confusion, my colleague who speaks arabic, explained that we were running late for a "meeting with the minister of finance" (which is in part true, but he wasnt actually attending the meeting himself today) - within minutes we were back on our way! Ah the life of diplomatic immunity! Turns out the the fracas was over the fact that our driver had been on his mobile phone. The police werent bothered about the act but the fact that in the processes of being on his phone he was delaying the traffic!
Today was as predictable as every other 5 day workshop ive ever run. Today we hit the low point. It always comes. Its the point when the delegates and facilitators and stakeholders (who are all starting to get a bit tired - thinking is tough work) start to realise that the end of the event is in sight and we have got so many loose ends that seem impossible to tie up. The agenda slips as people get into more heated debate, and frustrations rise as it appears to different parties that we might be going in wrong directions. Fortunately experience comforts me - its a bit like going to the dentist - you know that its going to hurt for a while, but you also know its going to be alright in the end.
Its interesting just how much stickier blu-tac is here that it is in England. you almost have to apply it with a trowel here, it kind of drips. in the uk i often have to kneed blu-tac to create some warmth and stickiness - not so here, the heat softens everything. There must be a product opportunity for blu-tac to exploit in this phenominum. As an aside i also notice that the gunk that i put in my hair (we may be helping the starving millions, but one has still got to look good!) is also much easier to apply
Starving, poverty stricken people - its a crying shame, and yet the solution appears to be so complex. Is it just about money? Could money solve starvation? I posed the question - what if David Beckham were to donate one million pounds a year to a village of 500 people (he could easily afford it and 500 people might be saved - "Beckham Village where life is not a game" - would that solve starvation and poverty for that community? A response to this that made me laugh was that the first thing that everyone would do would be to by a plane ticket and go and live in Paris! Good point - too much money would just offset the problem to somewhere else. But if managed properly could cash injection cure poverty? could it educate people - im sure it could fund a solar powered internet hub and teaching facilities. Could it create a sustainable wealth providing employment? Agriculture appears difficult, supply and demand is all topsy turvy - food prices are rising and yet the market for the crops they grow is dropping. But what about creating say,a village call center? why couldnt Beckham village build a call center for services to the rest of the world? this might help the people fund the import of water and staple foods. Of course on its own, Beckham Village would have to fortress itself against the bandits and beggers (and maybe even Governments) who would be constantly invading to have some of those precious goods.... but what if all our developed-World celebrity superstars sponsored a village of their own. We could have "Jagger Town", "Dolce&Gabbana village" and "P Diddy Hamlets" Why we might even get a "Bono Bogs" and "Sting city". Could it work?
Arrgh! did i take my Malaria tablet yesterday??
Our car got stopped again by the police on way to the venue this morning. This time it felt a little more agitated. We had a different driver - a bit less cool than our usual driver Jamal, and the policeman was a bit more scruffy in his tatty blue uniform than the crisp white uniformed policeman the other day. I think the blue boys are traffic cops. There was a lot of shouting and arguing through the opened drivers window until the driver was ordered out and marched off to a waiting police car. In the confusion, my colleague who speaks arabic, explained that we were running late for a "meeting with the minister of finance" (which is in part true, but he wasnt actually attending the meeting himself today) - within minutes we were back on our way! Ah the life of diplomatic immunity! Turns out the the fracas was over the fact that our driver had been on his mobile phone. The police werent bothered about the act but the fact that in the processes of being on his phone he was delaying the traffic!
Today was as predictable as every other 5 day workshop ive ever run. Today we hit the low point. It always comes. Its the point when the delegates and facilitators and stakeholders (who are all starting to get a bit tired - thinking is tough work) start to realise that the end of the event is in sight and we have got so many loose ends that seem impossible to tie up. The agenda slips as people get into more heated debate, and frustrations rise as it appears to different parties that we might be going in wrong directions. Fortunately experience comforts me - its a bit like going to the dentist - you know that its going to hurt for a while, but you also know its going to be alright in the end.
Its interesting just how much stickier blu-tac is here that it is in England. you almost have to apply it with a trowel here, it kind of drips. in the uk i often have to kneed blu-tac to create some warmth and stickiness - not so here, the heat softens everything. There must be a product opportunity for blu-tac to exploit in this phenominum. As an aside i also notice that the gunk that i put in my hair (we may be helping the starving millions, but one has still got to look good!) is also much easier to apply
Starving, poverty stricken people - its a crying shame, and yet the solution appears to be so complex. Is it just about money? Could money solve starvation? I posed the question - what if David Beckham were to donate one million pounds a year to a village of 500 people (he could easily afford it and 500 people might be saved - "Beckham Village where life is not a game" - would that solve starvation and poverty for that community? A response to this that made me laugh was that the first thing that everyone would do would be to by a plane ticket and go and live in Paris! Good point - too much money would just offset the problem to somewhere else. But if managed properly could cash injection cure poverty? could it educate people - im sure it could fund a solar powered internet hub and teaching facilities. Could it create a sustainable wealth providing employment? Agriculture appears difficult, supply and demand is all topsy turvy - food prices are rising and yet the market for the crops they grow is dropping. But what about creating say,a village call center? why couldnt Beckham village build a call center for services to the rest of the world? this might help the people fund the import of water and staple foods. Of course on its own, Beckham Village would have to fortress itself against the bandits and beggers (and maybe even Governments) who would be constantly invading to have some of those precious goods.... but what if all our developed-World celebrity superstars sponsored a village of their own. We could have "Jagger Town", "Dolce&Gabbana village" and "P Diddy Hamlets" Why we might even get a "Bono Bogs" and "Sting city". Could it work?
Arrgh! did i take my Malaria tablet yesterday??
Monday, 7 April 2008
The Sudan - 16
How long does it take for the strange to become familiar? I reckon about a week. Ive been racking my brains tonight for things to write about in this blog... i dont think ive seen or done anything unusual today. Of course this is nonsense because its only NOT unusual because ive become familiar with my surroundings and the topics of conversation and im starting to become oblivious to little details like the uniformed security man at the Bank of Sudan whose 3" embroidered security badge is held to his uniform by a single safety pin. And I dont find it odd now that we are talking with great interest on the fine details of the benefits of having more than one wife.
Oh i was a little excited to see one of our delegates in the most amazing pair of shoes. So intrigued I was, I had to stop him on the stairs to ask him about them. He was wearing a drab coloured lightweight safari suit which made his shoes look even more glamorous. At first I thought he was just into the kitsch scene, but on enquiry it turns out that they really were REAL tiger-skin shoes! they were brilliant - I could see why there would be a trade in this endangered animal skin - i'd love a pair. I asked him if it was legal to buy tiger products - he reckoned that you could hunt tiger if you had a license. That cant be true can it? Well his mate in the snake-skin shoes thought it was.
We've talked about a wide range of issues that effect the African rural poor. Topics that are so far removed from any topic of conversation i would have back home; not only because Im not poor, but because the forces of change on this country are so different to the forces of change in Europe. Climate change of course is high on the agenda here, but so also is war and divided states. We talk about energy, education, employment, agriculture, water, hygiene, medicine etc - all usually in the negative. But not once has anyone uttered the word HIV. HIV is a massive problem in Africa (and particularly southern africa) but for many reasons its a topic that appears to be taboo. HIV leads to trends in child rape (in the belief that sleeping with a virgin will cure it); displaced women (who are rejected by thier communities in the belief that it is the woman who has been sleeping around, never the husband); jail and torture (as HIV is believed to be an indicator of either a promiscuous woman, or a gay man - both punishable offences); communities of elderly people and young people - but no-one in between - theyre dead, and so the whole social fabric of such communities are crumbling (and in a world where the only capital you have is social capital, you cant afford for your community to crumble). In some areas, the massive campaigns to use condoms were rejected in the belief that this was a white mans attempt to stop black people producing more babies! HIV is a force of change that is going to have to be reckoned with, and yet no-one will talk about it. For one, talking about sex has religious complications, and for another it is still strongly associated with homosexuality and this also has religious complications.
If we cant talk about it, then maybe there is no hope
I facilitated various workshop elements today, but i also did a workshop section on Creativity and problem solving preferences. My planned 2.5 hours became crunched to 1.5 hours as the story telling activities over ran. We decided to press on regardless with the time that i had remaining. Now this never bothers me. I can wing this subject pretty well now and skip slides and activities to the important bits (actually my client remarked afterwards, that so impressed was he that he could see from now on that he could reduce my future contracts to deliver my work in half the time!)
It was clear that the people enjoyed the workshop despite my rush (i was concerned about talking too fast for people to understand - though remember, fast for me here would be relaxed in any other place) and I think the key learnings were transfered. However i wasnt absolutely happy with my delivery of the Foursight psychometric that i used. I think the participants were more than happy and understanding of the concept and the outcomes of their profiles, but i had to make a couple of necessary shortcuts. We used the paper based questionnaire as not everyone has access to the internet for the online version. Immediately i concerned that some people appeared to have a skew on their responses - had they not understood my instructions? did they still think they were being tested and needed to appear to be 'good' at problem solving? I had to let the people continue with the analysis of their profile, it would have been too complicated to explain why not. Or maybe their profiles were genuinely like this - This is certainly a culture that is different to my own - in fact it is often necessary to really labour the concept of 'deferment of judgement' in northern European organisations, but here it was accepted as if i was asking them to continue breathing - this is a society that is apparently very tolerant of different view points (though i find this difficult to reconcile with some of the political unrest)
Scoring of the Foursight questionnaire is usually a relatively simple process, but i was suprised at how complicated this was for a few people today. And drawing a neat graph between the points didnt appear to be as easy as i would imagine it to be. I had to make a quick decision - should i continue to instruct them to work out the necessary standard deviations so that they could identify their peak preferences? I made the right decision. Every one understood the concept, appeared happy with the curves of their profiles and lots of laughing and deep discussions followed as sharing thier new insights with each other they went off into the early evening 38 degrees.
And now im knackered
Oh i was a little excited to see one of our delegates in the most amazing pair of shoes. So intrigued I was, I had to stop him on the stairs to ask him about them. He was wearing a drab coloured lightweight safari suit which made his shoes look even more glamorous. At first I thought he was just into the kitsch scene, but on enquiry it turns out that they really were REAL tiger-skin shoes! they were brilliant - I could see why there would be a trade in this endangered animal skin - i'd love a pair. I asked him if it was legal to buy tiger products - he reckoned that you could hunt tiger if you had a license. That cant be true can it? Well his mate in the snake-skin shoes thought it was.
We've talked about a wide range of issues that effect the African rural poor. Topics that are so far removed from any topic of conversation i would have back home; not only because Im not poor, but because the forces of change on this country are so different to the forces of change in Europe. Climate change of course is high on the agenda here, but so also is war and divided states. We talk about energy, education, employment, agriculture, water, hygiene, medicine etc - all usually in the negative. But not once has anyone uttered the word HIV. HIV is a massive problem in Africa (and particularly southern africa) but for many reasons its a topic that appears to be taboo. HIV leads to trends in child rape (in the belief that sleeping with a virgin will cure it); displaced women (who are rejected by thier communities in the belief that it is the woman who has been sleeping around, never the husband); jail and torture (as HIV is believed to be an indicator of either a promiscuous woman, or a gay man - both punishable offences); communities of elderly people and young people - but no-one in between - theyre dead, and so the whole social fabric of such communities are crumbling (and in a world where the only capital you have is social capital, you cant afford for your community to crumble). In some areas, the massive campaigns to use condoms were rejected in the belief that this was a white mans attempt to stop black people producing more babies! HIV is a force of change that is going to have to be reckoned with, and yet no-one will talk about it. For one, talking about sex has religious complications, and for another it is still strongly associated with homosexuality and this also has religious complications.
If we cant talk about it, then maybe there is no hope
I facilitated various workshop elements today, but i also did a workshop section on Creativity and problem solving preferences. My planned 2.5 hours became crunched to 1.5 hours as the story telling activities over ran. We decided to press on regardless with the time that i had remaining. Now this never bothers me. I can wing this subject pretty well now and skip slides and activities to the important bits (actually my client remarked afterwards, that so impressed was he that he could see from now on that he could reduce my future contracts to deliver my work in half the time!)
It was clear that the people enjoyed the workshop despite my rush (i was concerned about talking too fast for people to understand - though remember, fast for me here would be relaxed in any other place) and I think the key learnings were transfered. However i wasnt absolutely happy with my delivery of the Foursight psychometric that i used. I think the participants were more than happy and understanding of the concept and the outcomes of their profiles, but i had to make a couple of necessary shortcuts. We used the paper based questionnaire as not everyone has access to the internet for the online version. Immediately i concerned that some people appeared to have a skew on their responses - had they not understood my instructions? did they still think they were being tested and needed to appear to be 'good' at problem solving? I had to let the people continue with the analysis of their profile, it would have been too complicated to explain why not. Or maybe their profiles were genuinely like this - This is certainly a culture that is different to my own - in fact it is often necessary to really labour the concept of 'deferment of judgement' in northern European organisations, but here it was accepted as if i was asking them to continue breathing - this is a society that is apparently very tolerant of different view points (though i find this difficult to reconcile with some of the political unrest)
Scoring of the Foursight questionnaire is usually a relatively simple process, but i was suprised at how complicated this was for a few people today. And drawing a neat graph between the points didnt appear to be as easy as i would imagine it to be. I had to make a quick decision - should i continue to instruct them to work out the necessary standard deviations so that they could identify their peak preferences? I made the right decision. Every one understood the concept, appeared happy with the curves of their profiles and lots of laughing and deep discussions followed as sharing thier new insights with each other they went off into the early evening 38 degrees.
And now im knackered
Sunday, 6 April 2008
The Sudan - 15
How many workshops, meetings, brainstorming sessions have you been in where a response to "what are our threats?" was "Landmines"? No nor have i... until now.
We started with prayers - a reading from the Koran and a reading from the bible. My toes were curling at the thought of it, but in actual fact it was a rather nice and respectful way to start proceedings. And the two "His Excellencies" graced us with their presences. One addressed the assembly in English and talked of the troubles of Sudan and the hope that we were part of the solution. The other spoke in Arabic and i have no idea what he was saying; which made me a little anxious as i was supposed to pick up after he'd finished - fortunately Fiaza did the transfer for me.
Some of our conversations today were in Arabic. Fortunately we had people who could translate back and forth, but the majority of the event was in English. Now i think i reletively sensitive to the listening and comprehension needs of people from other countries - i try to speak clearly and slowly and choose my words carefully, but today i had a couple of people ask me if i could speak a little slower. Have you ever tried to talk for a whole day at half speed? its painful. You would think that this would provide me with useful thinking time while my mouth slowly churned out the words, but no - it simply meant i was having a conversation with myself about how painful it was to talk so slowly.
There are about 40 people in the workshop - and about a 50/50 split male/female. Every one is very nice. Four of the men chose to wear ties (that truly is hardcore in this heat) everyone else is much more relaxed in thier dress. Me? today for the first time i felt a bit sweaty - is it my nerves? the running around? or is monsoon season approaching?
I discover a new challenge for the facilitator-in-sudan. You need twice as much masking tape as you might use in cooler climes. Every room here has 2 or 3 fans and aircon turned up to 11. not only does it make the room noisy, but it also turns it into a frikking wind tunnel - you cant hold the flipcharts and postit notes down without a lengthy strip of tape.
We dont take a break here, we take breakfast. At 11am - its as big as an evening meal! I didnt partake. I was offered what looked like a hamburger. I didnt want to offend so accepted, took a bite and discovered chicken inside - pinkish and a bit rubbery? Spit or swallow? I think its a bit rude not to swallow... so i did. I await the outcome.
All in all a successful day i think. people seemed pleased, client seems pleased (despite wanting to continue planning for tomorrow until 11.30 pm). Its always a good feeling to get day 1 under your belt
We started with prayers - a reading from the Koran and a reading from the bible. My toes were curling at the thought of it, but in actual fact it was a rather nice and respectful way to start proceedings. And the two "His Excellencies" graced us with their presences. One addressed the assembly in English and talked of the troubles of Sudan and the hope that we were part of the solution. The other spoke in Arabic and i have no idea what he was saying; which made me a little anxious as i was supposed to pick up after he'd finished - fortunately Fiaza did the transfer for me.
Some of our conversations today were in Arabic. Fortunately we had people who could translate back and forth, but the majority of the event was in English. Now i think i reletively sensitive to the listening and comprehension needs of people from other countries - i try to speak clearly and slowly and choose my words carefully, but today i had a couple of people ask me if i could speak a little slower. Have you ever tried to talk for a whole day at half speed? its painful. You would think that this would provide me with useful thinking time while my mouth slowly churned out the words, but no - it simply meant i was having a conversation with myself about how painful it was to talk so slowly.
There are about 40 people in the workshop - and about a 50/50 split male/female. Every one is very nice. Four of the men chose to wear ties (that truly is hardcore in this heat) everyone else is much more relaxed in thier dress. Me? today for the first time i felt a bit sweaty - is it my nerves? the running around? or is monsoon season approaching?
I discover a new challenge for the facilitator-in-sudan. You need twice as much masking tape as you might use in cooler climes. Every room here has 2 or 3 fans and aircon turned up to 11. not only does it make the room noisy, but it also turns it into a frikking wind tunnel - you cant hold the flipcharts and postit notes down without a lengthy strip of tape.
We dont take a break here, we take breakfast. At 11am - its as big as an evening meal! I didnt partake. I was offered what looked like a hamburger. I didnt want to offend so accepted, took a bite and discovered chicken inside - pinkish and a bit rubbery? Spit or swallow? I think its a bit rude not to swallow... so i did. I await the outcome.
All in all a successful day i think. people seemed pleased, client seems pleased (despite wanting to continue planning for tomorrow until 11.30 pm). Its always a good feeling to get day 1 under your belt
Saturday, 5 April 2008
The Sudan - 14
This is an amazing hotel. Ive been trying to find a way to describe my feelings about it and i cant quite put my finger on it. Its all about the people here, and if i were a comic writer and illustrator, this place would be the never ending source of inspiration.
Everybody who stays here or passes through here (there seems to be a lot of that) is larger than life and on the edge of it. These are renegade people on a dangerous mission of some kind - and in actuality many of them really are on a mission (there are many development agency people here)
Every underground comic book archetype is here in this hotel. they come and go at odd hours and interact with each other on a mysterious level. We have....
- the large fat English man in sandels with slicked back hair and a long thick bushy pirate like beard. Is he with the petite malaysian (?) lady, who flutters as he politely offers her a chair at his dinner table. He is clearly a wealthy but bent backstreet diamond dealer.
- the two chinese men - do they know each other? they seem to be together and yet distant. The dangerous one has a fu man chu beard, the other is so nondescript, hes virtually invisible. they are part of an international drug ring and close to the triads.
- the dark rugged and very mysterious man. His features are striking but ungiving of his origin. Is that a natural dark skin, or is he heavily tanned, or even just dirty - you could believe it of him. He speaks with no-one but his piercing eyes are always scanning around him. And how come he has a can of beer with his meals? Only he can get away with that here.
- The loud middle-aged, lean and round-shouldered Australian. Telling tales to anyone who will listen and some who wont about his escapades with terrorists, insurgents and militia. His stories are covering something that he doesnt want to reviel about himself - hes running away from something.
And all of these characters find refuge in this throwback hotel from the 50's. An outpost on the edge of war and crime zones. A haven run by a tall, smartly dressed greek man by the name of george - he knows everyone one of his guests and attends thier every need with a broad smile and sweeping calm. George will take care of your passport and documents, George will get you a sim card, George will change your dollars, George will arrange a driver.
And amongst all this sense of darkeness, i feel incredibly at ease. As if im living in a not-so-futuristic chapter of 2000ADs Robo-hunter
Everybody who stays here or passes through here (there seems to be a lot of that) is larger than life and on the edge of it. These are renegade people on a dangerous mission of some kind - and in actuality many of them really are on a mission (there are many development agency people here)
Every underground comic book archetype is here in this hotel. they come and go at odd hours and interact with each other on a mysterious level. We have....
- the large fat English man in sandels with slicked back hair and a long thick bushy pirate like beard. Is he with the petite malaysian (?) lady, who flutters as he politely offers her a chair at his dinner table. He is clearly a wealthy but bent backstreet diamond dealer.
- the two chinese men - do they know each other? they seem to be together and yet distant. The dangerous one has a fu man chu beard, the other is so nondescript, hes virtually invisible. they are part of an international drug ring and close to the triads.
- the dark rugged and very mysterious man. His features are striking but ungiving of his origin. Is that a natural dark skin, or is he heavily tanned, or even just dirty - you could believe it of him. He speaks with no-one but his piercing eyes are always scanning around him. And how come he has a can of beer with his meals? Only he can get away with that here.
- The loud middle-aged, lean and round-shouldered Australian. Telling tales to anyone who will listen and some who wont about his escapades with terrorists, insurgents and militia. His stories are covering something that he doesnt want to reviel about himself - hes running away from something.
And all of these characters find refuge in this throwback hotel from the 50's. An outpost on the edge of war and crime zones. A haven run by a tall, smartly dressed greek man by the name of george - he knows everyone one of his guests and attends thier every need with a broad smile and sweeping calm. George will take care of your passport and documents, George will get you a sim card, George will change your dollars, George will arrange a driver.
And amongst all this sense of darkeness, i feel incredibly at ease. As if im living in a not-so-futuristic chapter of 2000ADs Robo-hunter
The Sudan - 13
What happens when you take a very bright, passionate and intellectual committee, throw in a rapidly approaching deadline, several million dollars, a few billion starving people, some conflicting government parties and a couple of "His Excellencies"?
The answer is a bit of a deadlock and a lot of stress.
We sat in the hotel lobby tonight to finalise the process of our first day (we kick off tomorrow) - and true to form (this happens everytime we do a big event - "His Excellency" or not) we have everything ready to go but people still want to define roles, argue movements, suggest ideas etc. And true to form by the time someone suggested dinner, we were all relaxed again and looking forward to getting started.
In truth, it wasn't so stressful. The people im working with are great and very smart and very caring... but it wasnt a particularly productive meeting - i'd have been better off practising ukulele in my room... but maybe its a necessary process step when youre doing this sort of thing.
So its 10.30pm - im going to try and get a good nights sleep so that im all fresh and dandy tomorrow for "His Excellency"
The answer is a bit of a deadlock and a lot of stress.
We sat in the hotel lobby tonight to finalise the process of our first day (we kick off tomorrow) - and true to form (this happens everytime we do a big event - "His Excellency" or not) we have everything ready to go but people still want to define roles, argue movements, suggest ideas etc. And true to form by the time someone suggested dinner, we were all relaxed again and looking forward to getting started.
In truth, it wasn't so stressful. The people im working with are great and very smart and very caring... but it wasnt a particularly productive meeting - i'd have been better off practising ukulele in my room... but maybe its a necessary process step when youre doing this sort of thing.
So its 10.30pm - im going to try and get a good nights sleep so that im all fresh and dandy tomorrow for "His Excellency"
The Sudan - 12
Ive broken the golden rule of international travel to developing countries.
I was given this piece of wisdom by a good friend of mine, who has mentored me over the past few years in personal cleanliness and hygiene - and now i feel that i have let him down.
I not only accepted, but drank too - a glass of fizzy orange WITH ICE IN IT!
Its now only a matter of time.
I was given this piece of wisdom by a good friend of mine, who has mentored me over the past few years in personal cleanliness and hygiene - and now i feel that i have let him down.
I not only accepted, but drank too - a glass of fizzy orange WITH ICE IN IT!
Its now only a matter of time.
The Sudan - 11
I am struck by the coping tolerances of my international and bilingual colleagues.
While helping prepare a presentation in English on an Italian computer, I was driven to distraction by the endless red squiggles underlying every single word as if in anger at the need for the Italian user to create her presentation in English.
And on the subject of computers - have you ever seen an Arabic keyboard? it looks just like your keyboard, except for some squiggles in the corner of each key. Nothing remarkable about that you might think until you understand that each character has a specific pronunciation but has a different shape depending on where it is in the word or phrase... for this reason, the break through innovation in arabic word processing was when they managed to get the system to work out the context of what was being typed and then adjusted the character shapes to be correct - now that really is predictive text.
While helping prepare a presentation in English on an Italian computer, I was driven to distraction by the endless red squiggles underlying every single word as if in anger at the need for the Italian user to create her presentation in English.
And on the subject of computers - have you ever seen an Arabic keyboard? it looks just like your keyboard, except for some squiggles in the corner of each key. Nothing remarkable about that you might think until you understand that each character has a specific pronunciation but has a different shape depending on where it is in the word or phrase... for this reason, the break through innovation in arabic word processing was when they managed to get the system to work out the context of what was being typed and then adjusted the character shapes to be correct - now that really is predictive text.
The Sudan - 10
I walk from the car to the back door of the office. Its 1pm and the sun is scorching. Im in the direct sunshine for no more than 3 minutes and im concerned that i haven't put any sun screen on. I ponder for a moment what it might be like to be working right now (only a few miles away from where i stand) in a desperately barren field, desperately hoping for a bit of crop to grow, desperately wishing for a swig of clean water, desperately worried about my dieing children, desperately waiting for the unrelenting sun to set. And then i think that at least this 3 minutes will keep my sun tan topped up.
Our car is stopped by the police today, we are directed to pull over by a one of a crowd of young policeman. Hes very tall and dressed in crisp white military looking uniform. Our driver winds down the smoked glass window to the policeman, and the two politely shake hands and exchange greetings as if they know each other. As our driver presumably explains what hes doing I hear the name of the organisation that im working for, and another man joins the policeman - hes just as young, but dressed in regular street clothes and demands that our driver lower the windows of the back of the car. Theres a cautious sideways glance at us in the back, an exchange of a couple of words and were sent on our way again. It probably meant nothing significant, but I was well prepared with my basic training in personal security to "remain with the vehicle but if forced to leave it remain behind the engine block for maximum protection"
Our car is stopped by the police today, we are directed to pull over by a one of a crowd of young policeman. Hes very tall and dressed in crisp white military looking uniform. Our driver winds down the smoked glass window to the policeman, and the two politely shake hands and exchange greetings as if they know each other. As our driver presumably explains what hes doing I hear the name of the organisation that im working for, and another man joins the policeman - hes just as young, but dressed in regular street clothes and demands that our driver lower the windows of the back of the car. Theres a cautious sideways glance at us in the back, an exchange of a couple of words and were sent on our way again. It probably meant nothing significant, but I was well prepared with my basic training in personal security to "remain with the vehicle but if forced to leave it remain behind the engine block for maximum protection"
The Sudan - 10
Someone asked me why i was writing this blog. I guess I should view a question like that as feedback, but I went on obliviously to explain.
In Sudan you need a permit to take photographs. Yes its true. I havent found out why yet, but taking photos without a permit is a serious offence.... here is a paragraph from my security clearance papers......
Photography
Do not take photographs. Photography without a permit is forbidden in Sudan.. In case anyone stops you while photographing, do listen to him. The person may be from a security agency in civilian clothes. Alternately you may ask an official at site if you can take photographs of your friends.
Apparently it has been known for tourists to be arrested for taking pictures of the Nile!
I am a visually orientated person, and it would be my natural preference to take photographs as a way of remembering and describing by visit to The Sudan, but i have decided that i'm not up for the challenge of either 1) going through the beaurocratic process of applying for a permit (crikey it took 4 passport photos just to get this hotel room) or 2) taking undercover pictures
And so that is why i am writing this blog - painting in words
In Sudan you need a permit to take photographs. Yes its true. I havent found out why yet, but taking photos without a permit is a serious offence.... here is a paragraph from my security clearance papers......
Photography
Do not take photographs. Photography without a permit is forbidden in Sudan.. In case anyone stops you while photographing, do listen to him. The person may be from a security agency in civilian clothes. Alternately you may ask an official at site if you can take photographs of your friends.
Apparently it has been known for tourists to be arrested for taking pictures of the Nile!
I am a visually orientated person, and it would be my natural preference to take photographs as a way of remembering and describing by visit to The Sudan, but i have decided that i'm not up for the challenge of either 1) going through the beaurocratic process of applying for a permit (crikey it took 4 passport photos just to get this hotel room) or 2) taking undercover pictures
And so that is why i am writing this blog - painting in words
The Sudan - 9
It is so dusty here. The floors of my hotel are hard reconstituted marble tiles - they keep the place nice and cool and they are diligently mopped daily. However, despite the noble attempt, my suede shoes (im a trend setter like that) are constantly dirty with dust - its starting to irritate me. Aren't dessert boots made of suede? that seems like a design error to me - surely rubber boots would be a more satisfactory option for the shoe-proud man-about-dessert.
in my "personal safety training - basic" course, I was informed that in the event of being kidnapped, it would be good for my moral to maintain a good personal hygiene and appearance - i can see these bloody suede shoes being the death of me.
in my "personal safety training - basic" course, I was informed that in the event of being kidnapped, it would be good for my moral to maintain a good personal hygiene and appearance - i can see these bloody suede shoes being the death of me.
Friday, 4 April 2008
The Sudan - 8
38 deg centigrade at 8.30 in the evening. Its been a long hard day today - everyone wanted to keep working (mind you there is a startling amount of work still to be done before we start the workshop on Sunday) so it was with great relief when we finally walked out of the office at 8.30pm despite the air being almost overwhelmingly suffocating with heat. Actually I have to say this is brilliant weather - sure its hot, dang hot, but its also dry - there is no humidity - its not at all sweaty
I sat in the meeting with 18 other people - not one of them English, and yet we all talked English all day. Fortunately for my humbling embarassment, there was also an India, a Moroccan, an Italian, and an Egyptian at the table, so i convinced myself that they weren't all talking my mother tongue just for my benefit.
Today is Friday. Fridays and Saturdays are the weekend here, so technically many of the participants in the meeting should have been with family and freinds. Many of the men came in their weekend dress - crisp white robes and head wraps (i cant remember the names for these items) They looked very elegant especially the older men with snow white whiskers to match their clothes and contrast their dark skin. Interestingly that the clothing is traditional, but there appears to still be a place to put their ever-ringing mobile phones.
There was lots of talking and plenty of laughing, and of course the plentiful supply of tea. Rather disappointingly, it appears that the tea of choice is lipton bag on a string - but with a couple of heaped teaspoons of powedered milk and a couple of heaped teaspoons of sugar. I counted the sugar bowls - each twice as big as a tea cup - there was a sugar bowl for every 3 tea cups.
I had a vision of loosing weight while i was out here - i could do with a few pounds off, and i lost nearly a stone when i was out in India this time last year. But eating here doesnt appear to be that far removed from back home. Biscuits with your afternoon tea, chicken and chips in a tin foil basket for lunch (and sadly for tea if your unlucky). there is always potato fries androasted veg with your battered fish or braised meat. Now i appreciate that im in a hotel that clearly caters for international travelers, journalists and business men, but i wouldnt mind having a go a some more traditional local faire.
Well the panic is beginning to settle in, and so tonight i must burn some midnight oil so that i am both ready with my own presentations AND my proposed plans for the running of things - it can sometimes be a bit tricky to get others to listen to sense, but im sure a prepared "document" might speak their language
I sat in the meeting with 18 other people - not one of them English, and yet we all talked English all day. Fortunately for my humbling embarassment, there was also an India, a Moroccan, an Italian, and an Egyptian at the table, so i convinced myself that they weren't all talking my mother tongue just for my benefit.
Today is Friday. Fridays and Saturdays are the weekend here, so technically many of the participants in the meeting should have been with family and freinds. Many of the men came in their weekend dress - crisp white robes and head wraps (i cant remember the names for these items) They looked very elegant especially the older men with snow white whiskers to match their clothes and contrast their dark skin. Interestingly that the clothing is traditional, but there appears to still be a place to put their ever-ringing mobile phones.
There was lots of talking and plenty of laughing, and of course the plentiful supply of tea. Rather disappointingly, it appears that the tea of choice is lipton bag on a string - but with a couple of heaped teaspoons of powedered milk and a couple of heaped teaspoons of sugar. I counted the sugar bowls - each twice as big as a tea cup - there was a sugar bowl for every 3 tea cups.
I had a vision of loosing weight while i was out here - i could do with a few pounds off, and i lost nearly a stone when i was out in India this time last year. But eating here doesnt appear to be that far removed from back home. Biscuits with your afternoon tea, chicken and chips in a tin foil basket for lunch (and sadly for tea if your unlucky). there is always potato fries androasted veg with your battered fish or braised meat. Now i appreciate that im in a hotel that clearly caters for international travelers, journalists and business men, but i wouldnt mind having a go a some more traditional local faire.
Well the panic is beginning to settle in, and so tonight i must burn some midnight oil so that i am both ready with my own presentations AND my proposed plans for the running of things - it can sometimes be a bit tricky to get others to listen to sense, but im sure a prepared "document" might speak their language
Thursday, 3 April 2008
The Sudan - 7
A year ago (to the week) i sat one evening under a clear sky in the foot hills of the Himalayas with the same two men that I sat with tonight under the clear skys of Khartoum. A World apart and yet a World together. A Moroccan, an Indian and an Englishman. We continued the conversation that we started a year ago as if it were yesterday. We put the World to rights.
Its a real privilage to be with people like this; not only are they giving in their thoughts, but also welcoming of yours, and in this way the exploration of ideas is limitless.
As we began to feel the effect of a hard days work, we pondered why these conversations were so energising and natural. Of course we came up with a number of possible reasons, but my favourite one was to do with a "maturity of identity", a level of self-confidence that resulted in not having to defend your insecurities.
And if this is the case, then could "insecurities" and "immature identities" be a reason for conflict between say the North and South of Sudan?
Its a real privilage to be with people like this; not only are they giving in their thoughts, but also welcoming of yours, and in this way the exploration of ideas is limitless.
As we began to feel the effect of a hard days work, we pondered why these conversations were so energising and natural. Of course we came up with a number of possible reasons, but my favourite one was to do with a "maturity of identity", a level of self-confidence that resulted in not having to defend your insecurities.
And if this is the case, then could "insecurities" and "immature identities" be a reason for conflict between say the North and South of Sudan?
The Sudan - 6
Its quite a challenge to understand people here. Everyone ive met so far speaks English, but its always a bit tricky to pick out the meaning between broken sentences and accents. And its doubly difficult when the subject is as complicated as Global poverty and Political turmoil. And its even more difficult when you are sitting at a board table with a large fan blowing in your ear.
The first thing that struck me about this particular government ministry was the fact that it was more grubby than id expect and indeed our hosts were rather excited about the new carpet that had been laid in their office; which could have done with a lick of paint at the same time. The second thing that struck me was the lady sitting at her desk playing "who wants to be a millionaire" on her computer - in Arabic!
Im slightly embarrassed to say here how suprised i was that our official meeting around the board table was with 4 women. No reason why it shouldnt be, but i kind of expected here that the meeting would be with men. We spent the meeting confirming plans and expectations for our workshop. It was important to do because the 2 "His Excellency State Minister" of various what-nots are going to be there and they needed to prepare thier addresses.....
Hang on! i wasn't told about this! Im not so sure im up to this!
I spent the day quietly reminding myself that i dont need to know about the detailed content of Sudanese politics or development funding for the starving millions - im the process man - all ive got to do is get these 50 people to play nicely together for the week
We discuss the protocol on who makes his address first and if there is going to be a reading from the Koran, then there should be a reading from the Bible - i wondered if as "who wants to be a millionaire" has been translated into Arabic, has the Bible too?
Everybody is terribly nice and i think a government official who takes such care over the beautiful henna on her hands is certainly the right person to be caring for her country.
My phone rings, but i dont take the call from my mate Hughie, though i'd love to tell him that i cant talk now as Im in the ministry for finance talking strategy on poverty reduction.
Breakfast is a big deal here. People take tea first thing in the morning and then stop around 10.30ish for "breakfast". A tradition breakfast is "Fuul" - a kidney bean type mix with tomato and spring onion with a dash of cheese on top. We all sit around a wok type dish on the board table and dip in with fluffy processed bread rolls. Its very nice and very social. I had a bottle of fizzy orange to wash it down.
Bit by bit things start to fall into place for our workshop that starts on Sunday. There is a lot of organising to do and a lot of expectations to manage. Back in my hotel room after a full day i think i need a snooze.
The first thing that struck me about this particular government ministry was the fact that it was more grubby than id expect and indeed our hosts were rather excited about the new carpet that had been laid in their office; which could have done with a lick of paint at the same time. The second thing that struck me was the lady sitting at her desk playing "who wants to be a millionaire" on her computer - in Arabic!
Im slightly embarrassed to say here how suprised i was that our official meeting around the board table was with 4 women. No reason why it shouldnt be, but i kind of expected here that the meeting would be with men. We spent the meeting confirming plans and expectations for our workshop. It was important to do because the 2 "His Excellency State Minister" of various what-nots are going to be there and they needed to prepare thier addresses.....
Hang on! i wasn't told about this! Im not so sure im up to this!
I spent the day quietly reminding myself that i dont need to know about the detailed content of Sudanese politics or development funding for the starving millions - im the process man - all ive got to do is get these 50 people to play nicely together for the week
We discuss the protocol on who makes his address first and if there is going to be a reading from the Koran, then there should be a reading from the Bible - i wondered if as "who wants to be a millionaire" has been translated into Arabic, has the Bible too?
Everybody is terribly nice and i think a government official who takes such care over the beautiful henna on her hands is certainly the right person to be caring for her country.
My phone rings, but i dont take the call from my mate Hughie, though i'd love to tell him that i cant talk now as Im in the ministry for finance talking strategy on poverty reduction.
Breakfast is a big deal here. People take tea first thing in the morning and then stop around 10.30ish for "breakfast". A tradition breakfast is "Fuul" - a kidney bean type mix with tomato and spring onion with a dash of cheese on top. We all sit around a wok type dish on the board table and dip in with fluffy processed bread rolls. Its very nice and very social. I had a bottle of fizzy orange to wash it down.
Bit by bit things start to fall into place for our workshop that starts on Sunday. There is a lot of organising to do and a lot of expectations to manage. Back in my hotel room after a full day i think i need a snooze.
The Sudan - 5
Its difficult to describe the growing anxiety one gets as one draws close to the half way mark of his last loo roll here. And its nigh on impossible to describe the sheer delight of returning to your room after a days work to find that not only has that loo roll been replaced, but a spare one has been installed too!
Wednesday, 2 April 2008
The Sudan - 4
Im in a small hotel in the middle of Khartoum, which is in the middle of the desert, which is in the middle of Africa. I am with my Indian colleague from Chennai, when in walks a Polish man, who once worked with my Indian colleague on a project in Nepal.
And if you dont think thats enough proof that this is indeed a small world - turns out that this polish man lives only a couple of miles from where I work in England!
And to top it all off - hes a really interesting chap - doing a really interesting job. Reducing world poverty by knowledge sharing through technology. Check out http://practicalaction.org/?id=technologychallengingpoverty
And if you dont think thats enough proof that this is indeed a small world - turns out that this polish man lives only a couple of miles from where I work in England!
And to top it all off - hes a really interesting chap - doing a really interesting job. Reducing world poverty by knowledge sharing through technology. Check out http://practicalaction.org/?id=technologychallengingpoverty
The Sudan - 3
Ive put my cash in the hotel safety deposit box; A huge safe just like the ones you see being cracked in black and white gangster films. I was given an envelope, told to put my cash inside and write the amount on the outside.... i wonder if i should have got a receipt?
Another part of my personal safety training was to ensure that i personally gave my key to the reception manager on exit from the hotel. This I did. On my return, the hotel manager wasnt at his desk. He soon emerged from a back office and said "if theres no-one here, just nip round and take your key. Make yourself at home, we treat it like a family"
So thats OK then
Another part of my personal safety training was to ensure that i personally gave my key to the reception manager on exit from the hotel. This I did. On my return, the hotel manager wasnt at his desk. He soon emerged from a back office and said "if theres no-one here, just nip round and take your key. Make yourself at home, we treat it like a family"
So thats OK then
The Sudan - 2
Well it would appear that man and mosquito can live together in harmony.
With the aircon on and shutters shut, you have no idea as you wake up what the weather might be like outside. You can, however, take a pretty good guess that its very hot and dusty.
I am scheduled today with a "workplan" - not of my making, but of the people who are organising the event here. They want me to be sure that all is in order with the preparations for our week long workshop starting on Sunday.
In the lead up to coming here I have been inundated with papers and programmes as background and preparitory material. This is a big deal, by anyones standards. This is literally, life or death. As i read the local newspaper over a breakfast of things that i can peel, I see that all the articles are about the rebuilding of Sudan - but not about rebuilding as part of its economic growth strategy as we might read about in the south east of England - This is far more fundamental - creating peace and reducing poverty. Im not here to help with the peace bit, but i am here in the thick of poverty reduction. Paradoxically this makes me feel "rich" in a non-financial sort of way.
And this is big in the sort of way that ministries and governments are involved, and it is planned that i hve to go and meet some of these people. There are so many acronyms and organisations and agencies involved that im a bit confused as to who im seeing or why, but im happy to do whatever my hosts feel fit and im ready to go where-ever my driver takes me. He doesnt speak much English (and i still dont even know how to say hello in Sudanese) so im in his hands. I note with interest that he sprays something into the center consol storage compartment before we set off... mosquito repellent? air freshener? chloroform?
White taxis are gleaming, but the yellow ones are a masterpiece of "good enough", revived from frequent previous bumps and bashes, hand beaten back into shape. Plenty good enough with the angle-grinder skids across wrinkled bodywork. The more loved ones have cracked bodyfiller bulging out (how do they get so much damage on the roofs of their cars?) and yellow over-spray on rusty bumpers and balding tyres. There are a lot of white wall tyres here too - most of them peeling off the main tyre to look like cars driving on inverted dinner plates
It appears that one method of deterring other drivers from coming too close is to fit shiney hubcaps that stick out about 6 inches from the wheel with what looks like the spikes from the wheels of boadiceas chariot
I wasnt sure on how to dress for the occasion, so i went for what im comfortable in (and thats all ive bought with me) but to make an impression i did wear a suit jacket. I was worried that at 40 deg Centigrade, Id be sweating like a pig, but i have to say, that whilst it is indeed terribly hot, its not as humid as say Taiwan or India, and so a jacket is not impossible to wear.
I am taken to CCU (central coordination unit for IFAD funded project in the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry). The director proudly shows me the list of materials that he is assembling for the workshop - i nod approvingly and politely decline a cup of tea.
and then i am taken to see the workshop venue in the ABS (Agricultural Bank of the Sudan).
Every one is so polite and keen that i am keen. "As long as you are happy, then we are happy". Well this should all work out swimmingly then.
The workshop venue is plenty big enough, but not ideal. It is almost identical to the room we had to work with at IITM (Indian Institute of Technology in Madras) - a conference auditorium with a fixed layout of lecture type seating and intercoms on fixed benches. it would be a perfect venue for a signing of a peace treaty.
Under normal circumstances (but im starting to question what normal is now) id have encouraged people to find a different venue, one with lots of open space where people can be more free in how they move or where they sit, one where they can cluster with different people and have space for creative expression. However in this circumstance, I primarily wanted to give these great people my approval, for which they seemed delighted.
In the car back to my hotel, I wondered about what is the best environment for this workshop. I know what i would like.... but what about what these people would like? what about the delegates? Who am i, a comparitively wealthy, privilaged and relaxed Englishman, to say that this isnt the best space for the job? Maybe this is just the right space for these people. maybe it gives them the formality they need or expect for such an important event. Maybe they dont have the luxury of clear open spaces. Maybe they do their creativity in a very different way to me. Maybe i shouldnt expect them to shift thier working practices toward mine, but i should shift my working practices toward thiers ("There is no such thing as a difficult audience, only inflexible facilitators")
I worked with another facilitator once who created what i thought was too much of a fuss about a room not being ideal for the job of a creative workshop - and i believe that negative energy was transfered to the audience and room itself. It will be my job to make this room work... thats what makes me the professional thats been hired to do the job
Within an hour i am back in my dark aricon'd hotel room. Id better get on with making my agenda look like the work of a professional
With the aircon on and shutters shut, you have no idea as you wake up what the weather might be like outside. You can, however, take a pretty good guess that its very hot and dusty.
I am scheduled today with a "workplan" - not of my making, but of the people who are organising the event here. They want me to be sure that all is in order with the preparations for our week long workshop starting on Sunday.
In the lead up to coming here I have been inundated with papers and programmes as background and preparitory material. This is a big deal, by anyones standards. This is literally, life or death. As i read the local newspaper over a breakfast of things that i can peel, I see that all the articles are about the rebuilding of Sudan - but not about rebuilding as part of its economic growth strategy as we might read about in the south east of England - This is far more fundamental - creating peace and reducing poverty. Im not here to help with the peace bit, but i am here in the thick of poverty reduction. Paradoxically this makes me feel "rich" in a non-financial sort of way.
And this is big in the sort of way that ministries and governments are involved, and it is planned that i hve to go and meet some of these people. There are so many acronyms and organisations and agencies involved that im a bit confused as to who im seeing or why, but im happy to do whatever my hosts feel fit and im ready to go where-ever my driver takes me. He doesnt speak much English (and i still dont even know how to say hello in Sudanese) so im in his hands. I note with interest that he sprays something into the center consol storage compartment before we set off... mosquito repellent? air freshener? chloroform?
White taxis are gleaming, but the yellow ones are a masterpiece of "good enough", revived from frequent previous bumps and bashes, hand beaten back into shape. Plenty good enough with the angle-grinder skids across wrinkled bodywork. The more loved ones have cracked bodyfiller bulging out (how do they get so much damage on the roofs of their cars?) and yellow over-spray on rusty bumpers and balding tyres. There are a lot of white wall tyres here too - most of them peeling off the main tyre to look like cars driving on inverted dinner plates
It appears that one method of deterring other drivers from coming too close is to fit shiney hubcaps that stick out about 6 inches from the wheel with what looks like the spikes from the wheels of boadiceas chariot
I wasnt sure on how to dress for the occasion, so i went for what im comfortable in (and thats all ive bought with me) but to make an impression i did wear a suit jacket. I was worried that at 40 deg Centigrade, Id be sweating like a pig, but i have to say, that whilst it is indeed terribly hot, its not as humid as say Taiwan or India, and so a jacket is not impossible to wear.
I am taken to CCU (central coordination unit for IFAD funded project in the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry). The director proudly shows me the list of materials that he is assembling for the workshop - i nod approvingly and politely decline a cup of tea.
and then i am taken to see the workshop venue in the ABS (Agricultural Bank of the Sudan).
Every one is so polite and keen that i am keen. "As long as you are happy, then we are happy". Well this should all work out swimmingly then.
The workshop venue is plenty big enough, but not ideal. It is almost identical to the room we had to work with at IITM (Indian Institute of Technology in Madras) - a conference auditorium with a fixed layout of lecture type seating and intercoms on fixed benches. it would be a perfect venue for a signing of a peace treaty.
Under normal circumstances (but im starting to question what normal is now) id have encouraged people to find a different venue, one with lots of open space where people can be more free in how they move or where they sit, one where they can cluster with different people and have space for creative expression. However in this circumstance, I primarily wanted to give these great people my approval, for which they seemed delighted.
In the car back to my hotel, I wondered about what is the best environment for this workshop. I know what i would like.... but what about what these people would like? what about the delegates? Who am i, a comparitively wealthy, privilaged and relaxed Englishman, to say that this isnt the best space for the job? Maybe this is just the right space for these people. maybe it gives them the formality they need or expect for such an important event. Maybe they dont have the luxury of clear open spaces. Maybe they do their creativity in a very different way to me. Maybe i shouldnt expect them to shift thier working practices toward mine, but i should shift my working practices toward thiers ("There is no such thing as a difficult audience, only inflexible facilitators")
I worked with another facilitator once who created what i thought was too much of a fuss about a room not being ideal for the job of a creative workshop - and i believe that negative energy was transfered to the audience and room itself. It will be my job to make this room work... thats what makes me the professional thats been hired to do the job
Within an hour i am back in my dark aricon'd hotel room. Id better get on with making my agenda look like the work of a professional
The Sudan - 1
Stepping off the plane into the evening heat of Khartoum makes me suddenly realise that my mission has commenced. A "mission" sounds a bit grand - but thats what these IFAD people call these trips.
Ive never had my hand luggage xray'd on entering a country before and i soon come to realise why one of my suitcases has had a large cross chalked on it during its transit - im directed toward a chaotic corner of the airport customs where i have to show the contents to what i presume to be an official. Hes rather more interested in the argumentitive family with what appears to be shredded cabbage in their suitcases. I get a sticker of approval and go outside in search of my driver.
Why is his dashboard covered in a thick woolen carpet underlay type material? is it to stop the dashboard from melting in the sun? not that much sun light comes into this car with its blacked windows all but for the letter box slot that the driver peers through. The roads and traffic remind me of New Delhi - chaotic and dusty, but a little less noisy (hooters are for drawing attention here, not for confirming that the driver is alive). At every junction a police man patrols to check presumably car tax stickers, and young men walk up and down in the hope of selling a box or two of tissues - every car has a box of tissues on the dashboard (a flowery, girly sort of box - most strange - you'd think that if this were a required item for every car, someone would have by now either made a slot for it in the dashboard or have advertising or entertainment printed on the box its-self)
Im driven up and down dusty unmade back streets toward i hope my hotel. Im a little more relieved when we get onto a mettaled road, only to be a little taken aback to arrive at a back enterance to what appears to be an office block?
The Hotel is fine - everything works enough. And in the grand scheme of things why should it work any more than enough. i have a hard double bed with crisp sheets, i have aircon and a ceiling fan, i have a western style loo with 2 rolls of soft loo paper and i have a shower and bath.
And there is wireless internet. before ive even taken my now very dusty shoes off, i hook up and call the family. thank heavens for Skype. Im here for 17 days, and instead of wallowing in my slight pangs of homesickness, i can talk with my wife about holiday plans and blown light bulbs.
I read with interest that this is the oldest hotel in Khartoum - from the 50's - a creation of a chap from the Greek island Kefalonia. I read that "during its reign of five decades" the hotel has seen some "easy times and witnessed also some hard times" particularly when in 1988 a terrorist attack "blew off the main building killing 7 people and injuring several others"
Dinner looks fine. I choose a baked potato, some roasted vegetables and an orange. A gentleman in a turban informs me that the plate im using is for soup - didn't i want soup or some meat? Im sure that all is well here, but ive been ruined by the influence of a colleague whilst in India who would only eat what he knew wouldnt "upset" him. Ive got work to do here and i dont want to be ill, so for the time being if i can peel it of it looks like its been well cooked, thats good enough for me.. though i should really wash my hands a bit more before eating.
Theres a mosquito in my room. i think its only one. and i havent yet been able to splat him with a clap of my hands. I keep my aircon on - its supposed to subdue them - but im starting to get a bit chilly myself. ive got my mosquito replent on, though i think its starting to etch away the plastic of my laptop where my hands rest to type.
I had to do a 3 hour course on personal safety before coming out on this "mission" - it was only the basic course so only covered things like kidnap, rape, child soldiers, AIDS etc - ill get onto the advanced course for the next mission. It did however cover suggestions like choosing a room between 2nd and 5th floor (not so near to the ground that people can easily break in, but not so high that you can escape in the event of... ??) and how to refuse your room if the hotel manager calls out your room number for others to hear. So it was with intrepidation that i lay in my bed next to the french windows with broken lock onto the terrace having been warmly welcomed earlier to "Room 16". Ive got over a grand of dollars stashed around my various suitcases (they dont have ATMs and credit cards here in Sudan, and they dont handle travelers cheques - only hard cash - ive chosen to bring dollars, but euros and sterling would do just as well). What with the threat of terrorism, robbery and that bloody mosquito, it was a miracle that i slept so soundly all night
Ive never had my hand luggage xray'd on entering a country before and i soon come to realise why one of my suitcases has had a large cross chalked on it during its transit - im directed toward a chaotic corner of the airport customs where i have to show the contents to what i presume to be an official. Hes rather more interested in the argumentitive family with what appears to be shredded cabbage in their suitcases. I get a sticker of approval and go outside in search of my driver.
Why is his dashboard covered in a thick woolen carpet underlay type material? is it to stop the dashboard from melting in the sun? not that much sun light comes into this car with its blacked windows all but for the letter box slot that the driver peers through. The roads and traffic remind me of New Delhi - chaotic and dusty, but a little less noisy (hooters are for drawing attention here, not for confirming that the driver is alive). At every junction a police man patrols to check presumably car tax stickers, and young men walk up and down in the hope of selling a box or two of tissues - every car has a box of tissues on the dashboard (a flowery, girly sort of box - most strange - you'd think that if this were a required item for every car, someone would have by now either made a slot for it in the dashboard or have advertising or entertainment printed on the box its-self)
Im driven up and down dusty unmade back streets toward i hope my hotel. Im a little more relieved when we get onto a mettaled road, only to be a little taken aback to arrive at a back enterance to what appears to be an office block?
The Hotel is fine - everything works enough. And in the grand scheme of things why should it work any more than enough. i have a hard double bed with crisp sheets, i have aircon and a ceiling fan, i have a western style loo with 2 rolls of soft loo paper and i have a shower and bath.
And there is wireless internet. before ive even taken my now very dusty shoes off, i hook up and call the family. thank heavens for Skype. Im here for 17 days, and instead of wallowing in my slight pangs of homesickness, i can talk with my wife about holiday plans and blown light bulbs.
I read with interest that this is the oldest hotel in Khartoum - from the 50's - a creation of a chap from the Greek island Kefalonia. I read that "during its reign of five decades" the hotel has seen some "easy times and witnessed also some hard times" particularly when in 1988 a terrorist attack "blew off the main building killing 7 people and injuring several others"
Dinner looks fine. I choose a baked potato, some roasted vegetables and an orange. A gentleman in a turban informs me that the plate im using is for soup - didn't i want soup or some meat? Im sure that all is well here, but ive been ruined by the influence of a colleague whilst in India who would only eat what he knew wouldnt "upset" him. Ive got work to do here and i dont want to be ill, so for the time being if i can peel it of it looks like its been well cooked, thats good enough for me.. though i should really wash my hands a bit more before eating.
Theres a mosquito in my room. i think its only one. and i havent yet been able to splat him with a clap of my hands. I keep my aircon on - its supposed to subdue them - but im starting to get a bit chilly myself. ive got my mosquito replent on, though i think its starting to etch away the plastic of my laptop where my hands rest to type.
I had to do a 3 hour course on personal safety before coming out on this "mission" - it was only the basic course so only covered things like kidnap, rape, child soldiers, AIDS etc - ill get onto the advanced course for the next mission. It did however cover suggestions like choosing a room between 2nd and 5th floor (not so near to the ground that people can easily break in, but not so high that you can escape in the event of... ??) and how to refuse your room if the hotel manager calls out your room number for others to hear. So it was with intrepidation that i lay in my bed next to the french windows with broken lock onto the terrace having been warmly welcomed earlier to "Room 16". Ive got over a grand of dollars stashed around my various suitcases (they dont have ATMs and credit cards here in Sudan, and they dont handle travelers cheques - only hard cash - ive chosen to bring dollars, but euros and sterling would do just as well). What with the threat of terrorism, robbery and that bloody mosquito, it was a miracle that i slept so soundly all night
Wednesday, 20 February 2008
We are running out of excuses
For many years i have hidden behind the excuse that my specific education and training did not enable me to create the sort of stuff that i considered to be truly creative.
I had an engineering upbringing during the 80's when engineers were taught machine coding like COBOL and FORTRAN. I was educated in a time when main-frame computers were the size of a car and you waited your turn to use the ticker-tape machine - I cant believe now that they actually taught us how to use one of those. In those days if you used a computer, you were a computer scientist / programmer - you were an integral part of making it work.
Of course much has changed in the 20 or 30 years since those clunky days of computing, and we have all become computer "users", but still I regarded people who could create digital music, video productions, animations, graphics etc as having a special technical skill that excluded me from being creative in the same way as them. I hadn't been trained in the software products that enabled this creative output and so i simply couldnt be creative in that way.
Ive bought an Apple MacBook. And now I feel exposed. I am vulnerable with no more excuses to hide behind. I dont want to make this a hallelujah for Apple, my point goes beyond Apple, but it took this transition for me to realise that software programmes are now so intuitive, seamlessly integrated and feature packed that actually, technical software skills are no longer the barrier to creating amazing digital outputs - I am simply limited now by my own imagination and determination - and that scares me a little.
And this lead me on to think about one of the models used to describe the creative person. Amabile T.M (1996) describes 3 characteristics that can be found in creative individuals - 1) Creative thinking skills, 2) Motivation, and 3) Domain relevant skills. Her theory is well described on line and in many of her books and publications, but for the moment Ive been thinking about "Domain Relevant Skills". Amabile says that a knowledge of the field (or subject) in which the individual intends to be creative is essential to a valuable creative outcome - which in the case of say rocket-science, I'd agree.
However, Im starting to wonder now if in the field of say digital animation or video art, that domain-relevant skills are really that essential. Computers, software and user interface are now so enabling, it could be said that any novice could create a creative (and valuable) output without any knowledge of the field or market.
I wonder if there is a place now for a model of creativity that identifies a creative individual as having 1) Creative thinking skills, 2) Motivation, and 3) "Dream"? or "Vision"? or "Tenacity"?
So, no more excuses!
I had an engineering upbringing during the 80's when engineers were taught machine coding like COBOL and FORTRAN. I was educated in a time when main-frame computers were the size of a car and you waited your turn to use the ticker-tape machine - I cant believe now that they actually taught us how to use one of those. In those days if you used a computer, you were a computer scientist / programmer - you were an integral part of making it work.
Of course much has changed in the 20 or 30 years since those clunky days of computing, and we have all become computer "users", but still I regarded people who could create digital music, video productions, animations, graphics etc as having a special technical skill that excluded me from being creative in the same way as them. I hadn't been trained in the software products that enabled this creative output and so i simply couldnt be creative in that way.
Ive bought an Apple MacBook. And now I feel exposed. I am vulnerable with no more excuses to hide behind. I dont want to make this a hallelujah for Apple, my point goes beyond Apple, but it took this transition for me to realise that software programmes are now so intuitive, seamlessly integrated and feature packed that actually, technical software skills are no longer the barrier to creating amazing digital outputs - I am simply limited now by my own imagination and determination - and that scares me a little.
And this lead me on to think about one of the models used to describe the creative person. Amabile T.M (1996) describes 3 characteristics that can be found in creative individuals - 1) Creative thinking skills, 2) Motivation, and 3) Domain relevant skills. Her theory is well described on line and in many of her books and publications, but for the moment Ive been thinking about "Domain Relevant Skills". Amabile says that a knowledge of the field (or subject) in which the individual intends to be creative is essential to a valuable creative outcome - which in the case of say rocket-science, I'd agree.
However, Im starting to wonder now if in the field of say digital animation or video art, that domain-relevant skills are really that essential. Computers, software and user interface are now so enabling, it could be said that any novice could create a creative (and valuable) output without any knowledge of the field or market.
I wonder if there is a place now for a model of creativity that identifies a creative individual as having 1) Creative thinking skills, 2) Motivation, and 3) "Dream"? or "Vision"? or "Tenacity"?
So, no more excuses!
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