Dedicated to "The Program" (and its associates)

It's graduation week at SFU, and oh how I wish I could be there! In honor of the pomp and circumstance, I've decided to subject you all to a brief recapitulation of my wonderful year in Vancouver... in haiku form. I apologize in advance.

Vancouver, Part I

Start each day with tea
Fill up reusable cup
Class always starts late

Read, read, read, read, read
Read, read, read, read, read, read, read
Read, read, read, read, read

Talk a walk or ride
Go down to the Drive real quick
Drown stress in beer mug

Vancouver, Part II

This term is not bad
I can read while sleeping
Okay, maybe not

Where did the time go?
Four books to read each weekend
Crap! School is still hard

Falling behind, but
Last semester I learned how
To fake it when lost

Vancouver, Part III

What is in the sky?
UFO? No, it's the sun
Let's go climb The Chief

Sitting in the sand
Gaze at the mountains each day
Write, write, write, write, write

My paper is done!
Time to finally relax
Goodbyes already?

I learned lots of things in grad school, but the biggest Vancouver lesson was this: time flies when you're working your butt off.

** vancity love **

On the Road Again...

Sometimes it's hard to find something worth writing about. Other times, it's as easy as driving across Nebraska.

I finished up my Master's program at Simon Fraser University in Vancouver, BC on July 17. That was almost one whole month early. Since I had been pushing myself to beat every deadline while writing my MA Project research paper, I felt I deserved to celebrate on each of the last few days I was in Vancouver (read: trying new bars, sunset picnic on the beach -- see photo at left --, dinners with friends, lots of time staring at the mountains...) It was lucky that my last night in Vancouver coincided with the kickoff of a huge international fireworks contest. Vancouver hosts it every year, and every year the biggest competition occurs between Canada and China, who each design huge displays that explode over English Bay. Sadly, I wasn't able to see China's show since only one country competes per day, but I did see Canada kick the whole thing off in style. Simply put, it was the best fireworks show I have ever seen. And thanks to a couple pals with a primly located apartment, I think my friends and I had one of the best views in the city!

I said goodbye to Vancouver on Thursday morning and spent the next 11 hours hauling my way across Washington state, then cutting across the northwest corner of Oregon and heading into Idaho. I stayed the night with a friend of a friend (thanks couchsurfing.org) in Boise, Idaho. Driving along the interstate, you'd never know that Boise is a beautiful mountain town. Technically it is located on the high plains, I suppose, but it's just blocks from enormous foothills that in my Appalachian-trained mind qualify as mountains all by themselves. Dan, my host in Boise, showed me around town. A glacier-fed river runs right through downtown, and large trees shade the cozy neighborhoods throughout the city. Lucky for me, Dan is not only a great tour guide but also a superb gardener. His backyard produced basically everything I ate while I stayed there. Between the orchard, berry bushes, bean plants, squash patches, and the beautiful herb spiral it seemed he could have fed the entire town! (see photo at left) What's more, Dan's killer garden was topped off with an outdoor bath and shower. After 11 hours in a car (in which I didn't use the A/C to save on gas despite the fact that at one point my dashboard thermometer read 103 degrees), nothing could have been better than taking a hot bath in the cool night air under a zillion stars.

Friday morning, I woke up early (although not as early as I thought since my cell phone was still on Pacific time and I was in the Mountain time zone). I drove another 11 hours to Laramie, Wyoming, which is where I rest as I write this. The drive was beautiful, and it gave me my first glimpse of Red Rock mountains since I was in northern Wyoming last year during the drive west to Vancouver (see photo below). My college friend Greg is hosting me in Laramie, the home of the University of Wyoming where he works for the athletic department. (I feel compelled to tell you that now in order to avoid the obvious "Why would your friend live in Wyoming?" question.) Friday night I saw a bit of the town, and then Saturday morning we woke up and took a stroll around a mountain in Vedauwoo, one of the best rock climbing spots I have ever seen. Out of the high plains (over 7,000 feet) on which Laramie rests, towering piles of boulders rise so high, they can only be referred to as mountains (see photo at bottom). It was a stunning sight to see. I also enjoyed the hoards of chipmunks that inhabit the area, as well as a lot of beautiful wildflowers and alarming neon colored butterflies.

Saturday afternoon, Greg and I drove to Denver, Colorado. We went to a Rockies game at Coors Field. Despite some iffy weather, we lucked out and saw a good game that the Rockies ended up winning 8-2. Afterwards, we met up with some of Greg's friends and went to a club called Cervantes. A local funk band called The Motet put on a Michael Jackson tribute show. They brought in extra musicians including a horn section and three singers for the event. You know that moment during a concert when an amazing band starts to play the first few notes of a cover song that everyone in the crowd loves? Well this entire show was like that. I danced more than I have ever danced in my life. I've never seen a happier crowd. Honestly, it may have been the best show I have ever been to. It definitely deserves a spot in the top 5.

On Sunday, Greg and I went to another baseball game (this was really my ideal weekend!). The weather was better, and the Rockies won again! When we got back to Laramie last night, I met Greg's "Sunday family" (a group of co-workers who have dinner together every Sunday), and enjoyed a most delicious homemade meal. But all the driving, dancing, being in the hot sun, etc. really wore us out, and we both went to bed early last night. Now I've got a whole day ahead of me in Laramie. I think I'll get on my bike and see some of this town, and if the weather cooperates and I still feel good, I may go back to Vedauwoo. Tomorrow, it's back to the road. I'll say goodbye to Greg, and try to make my way across Nebraska before dusk. With cruise control on a flat interstate, tomorrow should be the easiest day of the whole trip!


Check out that rock in the upper left, does it look familiar to you? I think it looks like a woman in wearing a head scarf. Greg said maybe it's Rafiki the baboon from The Lion King.

Springing Spring in Lower BC

I know I've already said it a thousand times, but spring time is such a fine time in British Columbia. It puts every other spring I've experienced in the last quarter century to pathetic shame. Yes, the mid-Atlantic in April can be greener than a jealous leprechaun, but on the east coast of the U.S., nature has been forced into a submissive state. Beautiful parks surely illuminate the power of nature to transform itself, but a park is nothing compared to the wild.

In DC, nature resides in the shadow of society. In BC, nature looms over humanity with a power so immense it beckons one to come close, to throw oneself into the mossy green wilderness -- only to lose oneself completely among the rocks, trees, and glacial waters. Mother Nature presents herself so boldly here, it would be easy to lose one's mind trying to describe the awe inspired by the unfettered Earth.

Humbled by my inability to capture the essence of a BC spring with words, I offer you some pictures.


On the road to the grocery store.














At Wreck Beach on the campus of the University of British Columbia.












In Squamish, BC, one hour north of Vancouver.












View from Shannon Falls.














The spring thaw.













A walk in the woods.

Beautiful British Columbia

I think it's important to make time to play, especially outside, and especially after a gray winter. So yesterday I drove up to Squamish, BC and hiked The Chief. There are three peaks to explore, and I hiked to Second Peak back in September. This time I took the short route to First Peak. Although it wasn't as high as the one I'd visited previously, the view was more spectacular. Check out these photos!

My Maple Syrup Brain

My head is spinning and I'm not quite sure what set it off. Could it be the massive amounts of development theory I am reading through each day? Or maybe it's the economic equations with their dozens of variables that set my brain on a spiraling path to insanity. Could the dizzying pace at which I have settled into life in Vancouver be contributing to the madness? Without a doubt, the sheer volume of names and faces and stories and places that have muscled their way into my consciousness must be complicating my mental state.

When it comes to school, I have theories on everything and opinions on nothing. Each book contradicts the next. Easterly says development is economic growth, and the only path to success is through incentivizing investment. But Sachs argues that debt forgiveness and education and disease control are the goals which will lead to development. Easterly mocks Bono; Sachs is Bono's mentor. Sen argues that everyone is completely bonkers -- and the only way we can measure development is by the capabilities of individuals; development is freedom. But such a broad definition of development opens the door to arguments both for and against anarchy, Marxism, capitalism, industrialization, de-industrialization, economic reform, universal education, and globalization.

I'm in Vancouver because I want to learn about development, which to me is the minimization of misery and the increase in equality among all people, not just within a given community or country. I think this requires sacrifice on the part of the wealthiest -- I see no practicableness in the idea that we can keep economies growing infinitely to the end that everyone is wealthy. No, wealth is built on the exploitation of others. To achieve equity and fairness, sacrifices must be made. The system must be radically changed (destroyed?). I'm in Vancouver, and I spend 10 hours a day thinking about all these things that need to be done. I think, I listen, I discuss, I think some more, I argue a bit, I think, I go home, I read, I think, I try to synthesize it all, and I end up turning to my journal or this blog or a friend's unoccupied ear in the hope that if I ramble long enough about all these ideas, some sort of cohesive thought will eventually form in my brain and tumble off my tongue in a coherent manner. But all that I've got is the previous sentence: 75 words of gibberish.

In an ideal world, everyone would have the opportunity to expend this much mental energy on theory and philosophy and concepts, but there would be no need because there would be no desperation for change. Even though I know that the opportunity for this thought is what separates the free from the unfree, I don't think that life should really be lived this way. Life should be simple, clean, happy. People should throw off desire, embrace reflection, nature, and the generosity of others. Buddha had it right -- but the problem with Buddhism is that we are all supposed to toss away our possessions and rely on the generosity of others in order to obtain what we need to survive. If everyone is throwing off desire and possessions, then who is left to give charity?

That was way off the point, but it's been an idea that has crept into my head more than once today, and I thought perhaps the best way to deal with its annoying presence in my mind would be to try to communicate it to someone else. It's not that the idea annoys me, but I feel that my mental energy is so pushed to the limit that any thought not directly related to Sen, Easterly, Keynes, Mosse, Harriss, the IMF, Bono, Sachs, the World Bank, globalization, the dalit, the WTO, Marxists, hippies, anarchists, and famine is mental energy that is being wasted.

But then on the other hand -- what good is my position in a "developed" society if I cannot exercise my mental capacities in the way that I see valuable? I want to think about football and chocolate, sunsets, leprechauns, the Hold Steady, Buddhism, paper airplanes, the attractive people I see everywhere, movies, Naipaul, cotton vs. hemp, and quesadillas. Thinking about that stuff is fun. It makes me feel alive. Thinking about development economics does not make me feel alive; it makes me feel like I am drowning in molasses (or should I say maple syrup?), but that perhaps someday I'll have one single great thought that could make a huge impact on the world and rocket me out of my sugary grave. So I am trapped inside my own mind. On the one hand, I want to exercise the parts of my brain that give me instant gratification, and on the other hand I want to push my brain to the absolute limit of my capacity for abstract thought, even though it is painful, frustrating, and apparently doomed to futility, since I have more questions and no answers.

Summer Time (And The Livin's Easy)

Life in Vancouver has certainly not gotten off to any kind of modest start. Besides the epic road trip which marked the beginning of my transition to life here, the first week in BC was incredibly eventful. For starters, my road trip companion was around for the first two days. She had that "see it all while I can" attitude that only visitors can really maintain. We hiked in Stanley Park, tried various restaurants, befriended bartenders, checked out the art museum, saw the zombie parade, went shopping, and explored some of the funkier parts of town. Then she left, and I dissolved into a pool of my own conflicting emotions: excitement, apprehension, ambition, fear, happiness, loneliness...

After only a day or two of wallowing in that strange space between visitor and local, I got back on my feet and resumed the project of exploring this town. I made some friends, ran errands, demystified the public transportation system, and stopped carrying my guidebook and map with me every time I left the house. I climbed onto my bike and charged up the 15 block hill towards downtown, intent on exploring the massive campus at the University of British Columbia, which has more preserved green space than Stanley Park. My ambitious plan was thwarted after more than 100 blocks, though, when an oblivious driver opened her car door directly into my handlebars. My bike went flying, and so did I. Amazingly, I have only some nasty bruises and a sore hand to show for it. (Yes, I was wearing my helmet.) My bike is even undamaged. But my temporary hosts convinced me to contact the insurance company of British Columbia, as reporting all accidents involving autos is mandatory. I feared the driver, who not only tried to blame the incident on me but also gave me the finger as she stormed away, would try to file a claim against me for damage to her car door. To protect myself, I made a statement with the insurance company first.

I didn't expect anything to come of it, I just wanted my story to be on record. But protocol led me to an appointment with a claims adjuster, who took my story and listened to my tale attentively. He encouraged me to request reimbursement for my costs. The bandage for my hand cost $5, and he said he'd reimburse me for that. I laughed, but he was serious. Never has an insurance company so begged me to ask them for money. At one point during the meeting he even said, "Well, you've got a great attitude about this, and I like to give presents to people with good attitudes." I am not sure what he was insinuating with that remark, but I hope it means I'll be somehow compensated for my inconvenience even though I haven't filed a claim. I'm sure he's just trying to keep me from going to court, since that would cost the insurance company way more than a little settlement, but I have no intentions of filing a claim, let alone suing. I suppose the gods are smiling down on me.

Hopefully, the good vibes that have characterized my first week and a half here will continue to set the flow for the coming weeks. I move into my apartment this weekend, and school starts a few days after. The pace of life will certainly be changing, but hopefully not too much else. Well, I guess I could hope for a little better weather. It's been unseasonably cool for the past few days: a welcome change when compared to D.C.'s 90-something and humid summer, but still a bit harsh for August. Things will never be perfect, but so long as the weather is the worst thing I have to complain about, I'll go ahead and say they are.