The Curse of the Panhandling Monk

We had a great time in San Francisco and environs. Here are the highlights:

Best Meal: After fifteen hours in transit without a proper bite to eat, the pub sandwiches at Farley's (the bar at our hotel) were without question our finest meal.

Most Interesting Person: The sixty-something pugilist we saw shadow boxing in a parking lot off the east end of Lombard Street who approached us to offer directions when he saw us haul out our map. He was sweet, friendly, sweaty and a teensy bit incoherent. We did not follow his directions to the letter (on how to get to the famous part of Lombard Street, the segment that zig zags back and forth down a short, precipitous, incline) but, in retrospect, they were 100% correct.

Conversation of Least Consequence: Killing time before the hotel shuttle came to pick us up at Union Square, I wandered into an art gallery next to Morton's Steak House to make idle enquiries after a particularly fine painting of three dogs in the shop window. The proprietor gave me the full press treatment, describing the technique the artist used, showing me other pieces of her work, and telling me that the doggies in the window would set me back twelve grand. I happily accepted the gallery business card and said goodbye forever.

Most Pleasant Surprise: I had selected our hotel on the single criterion that it was close to the Golden Gate Bridge. Cavallo Point has many other amenities -- stunning views, lovely rooms, remote-seeming-but-still-close-to-everything location -- but the one I loved the most was the yoga class every morning! 

Favourite Sight-Seeing Moment: On the Sausalito ferry, hanging around by the Angel Island dock, watching the pelicans amuse themselves with formation flying stunts. They rode the thermals rising from the hills warmed by the setting sun, carefree and golden in the late afternoon light.

Most Workmanlike Jazz: At the No Name Bar in Sausalito, after getting off the ferry, looking for some food and drink. We got the drink. The food was just not happening at the No Name Bar.

Longest Line Up: After the line ups at Pearson Airport first, to do our own check-in, and second, to have airline personnel check that we'd checked ourselves in, and third, to just stand in a line for no reason, and fourth, to scan our own passports, and fifth, to have Homeland Security personnel check that we'd scanned our passport correctly, and sixth, to go through Pearson security, and seventh, to line up for our plane and eighth, to line up for our second plane, the longest line up I stood in was the one to the ladies' restroom at the south end of the Golden Gate Bridge. 

Most Obnoxious Perfume Bomb: There were some doozies this trip, but, the prize goes to the thirty-something blonde woman in front of us at Pearson after we'd checked ourselves in. She must buy in bulk.

Most Panhandling Monk: On the way to the hotel shuttle rendezvous point by Union Square, I made the mistake of smiling at an Asian gentleman wearing robes. He was on me in a flash. He asked me to sign my name in a book. And then he wanted me to accept a wooden bead bracelet. And then write the word "PEACE" in the same book where I'd written my name. And then he wanted me to give him forty dollars. I had no US cash. I asked Bruce if he had any money. We gave the monk $5.

Most Obvious Evidence of a Curse: After an uneventful trip (just the way I like them), the last leg of our journey - a short hop from Philadelphia to Toronto - ran into a snag.

We were boarded, late, onto a freezing cold plane and sat shivering in our seats as the pilot explained that part of the electrical system (the part that heats the plane) was not working. This would also require some special tinkering to get the engines started. Oddly enough, every passenger was prepared to go along with this. However, after a couple of attempts, the pilot had to admit defeat. We were "deplaned" and a mechanic was sent for.

No one expected things to go well after that, but, within an hour or so, the plane was fixed, toasty warm when we re-boarded, and we were on the ground in Toronto only two hours later than we would otherwise have been.

I'm glad we had that five bucks.

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen

SimCity and the Low Carbon Economy

No, I did not pay Electronic Arts for the use of this image, which I found in the public domain, but neither have they paid me for the promotion of their product, so I think we're even.

This past holiday season, I dug even deeper into the Christmas gift dilemma. You know the one: "what-do-I-get-for-people-who-already-have-everything-they-need-and-anything-they-want-they-can-afford-to-buy-themselves (or-I-can't-afford-to-buy-it-for-them)?"

I used to give people Oxfam goats, and Daily Bread Food Bank donations.

This year, even more heavily influenced than normal by the grim outlook of climate change, and given a heads up by my cousin in Qualicum Beach, I gave everyone on my list laundry detergent for Christmas.

No word of a lie, this was the Best. Gift. Ever. So popular, in fact, that I gave out more boxes at the office than I had originally planned, leaving me short for the rest of my list. If through this regrettable and inadvertent excess, I failed to send any of my subscribers a gift, look it up on line. You'll find that it's inexpensive and can be ordered through the mail.

So what's with the SimCity thing?

Subscribers may recall that I lost a fair chunk of my fleeting and finite lifetime to Tapped Out, the Simpson-based app that combines game concepts - including a simulated city - into a monster of a time gobbler. After a couple of months of obsessive fussing - and considerable expenditure of real money - I came to realize that I was living the "it's life-ruiningly fun!" tag line, and deleted the game from my iPad.

But that was a while ago, and I fell into a forgetful state. I lost my sense of the evils of life simulation games. 

SimCity is the mother of all God games, and, just before Christmas, I fell for it. I loaded the no-cost app onto my iPad.

In many respects, SimCity is vastly superior to Tapped Out. In Tapped Out, you just have to hang around long enough to make fake money so you can buy stupid things like the Popsicle Stick SkyScraper. In SimCity, you have to wait around to make money to buy stuff, but there are consequences to your actions and things can go horribly wrong. There are fake-life city-planning decisions and fake-life costs for parks, policing, fire fighting, education and so on.

The truly evil innovation in this game is the international trade function. The game gives you factories to make goods such as metal and plastics. You can use these to make other goods, such as nails and furniture. You need these items to continue to grow your city, but, because of the cost of the police and firemen and other city necessities, you can't grow at a pace sufficient to use up all the stuff you make. So what do you do?

You trade your surplus goods with the thousands, no millions, of people playing SimCity on their devices at the same time as you. It is mind-boggling, plus addictive. 

And then there is the found poem in the names people give their cities.

Wabbyville 
Baky 
Ist World City 
Colina 
Rising Sun Valley 
Limoges 
Raub 
Bokcoch
Boss'Erb City 
Nicol's City 
kuktown 
Pisquenopolis 
WauWau Village 
Colitown
Riv City
g-town
Tortue
Karlandia
Camaqua
Rak Kishok
Clintonville 
jeppland
Mongagua
gta 5 opine 18
Zombieland

(These are the real monikers of everyone selling something right now as I type, and whose name is in an alphabet I recognize.)

Even more mind-boggling than the simulated economy of SimCity is the real money going into the game. It is possible to play the game without spending actual cash but about one in a million humans is wired that way. 

The rest of us will spend some real money to buy SimMoney, so we don't have to wait the hours it takes to build something, or the hours it takes for the cargo ship to arrive or the hundred attempts on the global trading market it takes to get that one thing - a tape measure, say - to finish building a new house.

So think about that. Let's say, conservatively, that one million people play SimCity. Let's say, conservatively, that five per cent of them spend twenty dollars a week on SimMoney. That's math you can do in your head. A million bucks a week.

Even if these conservative estimates are off by an order of magnitude, that's still $5.2 million a year.

Used to be, in order to make that kind of money, you had to throw a couple of hundred thousand tonnes of carbon into the air.

There's a thought for a happy new year.

Thanks for reading!

Karen   

Seasons Greetings

The Allan Gardens greenhouse decks itself out every holiday season with poinsettias and other pretty foliage. 

In the central palm house the gardeners usually make a special display.

This year, the gardeners have made homage to Downton Abbey and The Walking Dead for an effect that is both festive and creepy. 

I wish everyone a safe and happy holiday with no zombies.

Thanks for reading! Have a Happy New Year!

Karen

... Aaand We're Back

Huaca Pucllana - At night, by the restaurant where I had guinea pig for an appetizer

Every week Air Canada runs a non-stop flight from Toronto to Lima, Peru, taking off at 5:30 in the afternoon on Saturday and landing in Lima about eight hours later on Sunday morning. Once on the ground, the plane disgorges its passengers, refuels, takes on another load of passengers and lifts off back to Toronto at 3:15 a.m.

These two flights - AC80 and AC81 - were the beginning and end points of my recent trip to COP 20, where the world met to talk and, as always, at the very last minute, pull together a document they will talk about at the next COP.

On the surface, the conversation is about climate change, reducing emissions and averting the sure disaster that will arise of we don't stop spewing C02 into the apple-skin-thin layer of breathable gases that envelopes our lovely home.

Ever so slightly below the surface rages every conceivable dispute you might imagine could arise among 190 of the world's nations. Rich versus poor. Free market versus controlled economy. Socialist versus capitalist. The whole megillah.

At this COP there was a new set of opposites: the difference between what non-state actors (provinces, regions, cities) are doing and what nations are doing. The former group are reducing emissions and still growing their economies while the  latter, with the exception of the EU, just sit around, as mentioned, and talk.

I was Ontario's "super delegate", the joke-inducing title given to provincial and territorial officials who can roam freely among the real delegates, but who can't negotiate or claim to represent the actual party to the agreement, in my case Canada.  

During the week since I returned from Lima, when asked what my trip was like, I've answered there were three big parts to the story. There was the COP story, which has been reported in the newspapers, so I won't trouble with those details here. There was the Ontario story, which also got some ink, so I'll let that go too.

And then there was the Lima story - the things that registered on me and did not make the news at all.

These were, in no particular order:

Traffic

I took this shot from the second level of the double-decker shuttle bus that took me from my hotel to the COP venue. If I caught the 7:00 a.m. shuttle, it took 25 minutes to travel the 9 kilometres to the temporary installation on the CGEP base. If I caught the 7:15 a.m. shuttle, the trip took an hour and 15 minutes. After I'd taken this shot, the young Peruvian sitting next to me asked, "Do you like traffic?"

Global Retail

Directly across from our hotel was a large retail mall built into the side of Lima's stunning seaside gravel cliffs. Sadly, I felt right at home.

Boy bands and Plants vs. Zombies.

The Differences in the Similarities

Smooching mannikins.

Post-colonial bureaucratic residue. 

The River That No Longer Flows Through Lima

This bulldozed gravel ditch is all that remains of the Rimac river. When I arrived in Lima seventeen years ago, the Rimac was a sewage-stinking muddy trench lined on its banks with shanties. Now, the private company that provides water to Lima, unconstrained by anything as elaborate as an environmental assessment regime, collects all the water before it even arrives in the city. The City of Lima is in the process of turning the dry riverbed into a park.

The Stunning Gravel Cliffs

Past Prosperity

For at least 2000 years, Lima has been an important centre for many different civilizations. The past 500 years have seen severe swings between tremendous plenty and astonishing collapse. It shows.

Interior courtyard, featuring an 180-year-old ficus tree, of a home continuously occupied for 500 years by the same Lima family.

Interior courtyard of an 18th century home largely fallen into ruin and currently occupied by forty families - 260 people - squatting on the property, using electricity stolen from the hydro lines outside and sharing three toilets. There is no other running water.

These remarkable views of the two sides of Lima were brought to us by Ronald Elward who owns and operates Lima Walks. If you are in Lima, you must arrange a tour with Ronald.

Work

We were accosted by beggars very rarely in Lima, and mostly in the vicinity of our hotel. In the city centre, everybody works. They sell Chicklets, or juice, or churros on the street.

Other economic activity in Lima's historic centre clusters in categories. Ronald took us through the printing sector, where tiny presses, surrounded sometimes by dozens of people, crank out mountains of paper flyers, billets, tickets, broadsheets, brochures, posters and other crap. The Internet has not come to Lima so all this paper provides employment, for the time being.

Christmas in Lima

A hatless Santa launched in the lobby of the JW Marriot hotel. He is made all of chocolate.

This Christmas Paneton cottage is life-sized, but I never saw anyone go in, or come out. 

Together in the same roundabout boulevard, a green sphere  showing the size of a tonne of carbon dioxide and an even bigger Christmas tree.

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen

Have You Packed Your Bags Yet?

The title of today's post is the question I was asked most this past week. It's nice that people are interested. But I had to say "no" each time.

In fact, even as I write this, I am not packed. 

But I'm working on it.

There are clothes in the dryer that I'll be putting in my suitcase.

I've done a reconnaissance of my closets to make sure I have the things I need.

It's hot and humid in Lima. Word is the conference venue is cramped and close.

So it's summer dresses and flats for me. These don't take a lot of time to pack.

Other than that, I have to do a run to a pharmacy to fill a preventative prescription for antibiotics because my dentist didn't like the look of the shadow at the base of a tooth that troubled me for a day or two last week. I'll get other useful small-sized products, too.

Around 2:00 p.m. I'll grab a cab to the airport and will be airborne by 6:00 p.m.  I will land in Lima in the middle of the night, about four hours before Google gets this to your mailbox.

To complete your The Week's Picture experience today, here's a link to an old post. The pictures are sunny, there's lots of useful information and I like the tone.

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen

The Last Time I Was In Lima ...

That's me on the right, knocking on the door of the massive Cathedral of Lima , on May 10, 1997 

I've been telling this story many times this past week:

"The last time I was in Lima was about fifteen years ago (actually 17 years; in May 1997). I travelled there on my way to and from an international workshop regarding access to genetic resources and the protection of intellectual property rights.

"I was at the Canadian Institute for Environmental Law and Policy at the time. The Executive Director, Anne Mitchell, had arranged the project through her contacts in the world of international development.

"I really had no idea what was going on with the workshop. My contribution so far (which you can find here) had been to comb through the laws and statutes of the whole of Canada - including the traditional environmental knowledge of first nations - which had resulted in a resounding and definitive goose egg. So far as the laws of this land were concerned, accessing genetic resources and preserving intellectual property rights therein was not a thing at all. That is not to say that a creative reading of say, the Ontario Bees Act, could not find a right or entitlement to these things, but, you really would have to read beyond what the law intended. 

"At any rate, representatives from environmental law associations and environment ministries from the United States, Columbia, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Peru and a couple of other countries that I forget, all gathered first in Lima, and then Cusco and finally in a small settlement one hour out of Cusco called Urubamba.

"We spent three or four days at a little resort in Urubamba mulling over the weighty issue of protecting indigenous knowledge of the properties of plants from the privations of bioprospectors, and, as a day trip on our second last day, we went to Machu Picchu. 

That's me on the right. Anne's on my right.
Details about everyone else are as fuzzy as this photo.

We flew out of Cusco the following day, and had many hours to kill before our flight to Toronto, so we hung out in Lima. We visited the main square and toured the ossuary in the catacombs below the Franciscan monastery (not my favourite part of the trip). Because we were accompanied by Spanish-speaking Lima natives, we also fearlessly hopped into a taxi cab, drove to an utterly unknown part of the city and stopped in at a very local and authentic restaurant where I tasted the first and best ceviche ever in my life."

Subscribers may be wondering why I've been telling this particular story all week. That's because next week, on December 6, I will be flying to Lima again, this time as part of  the Canadian delegation to the Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change - or COP 20 as those familiar with these things call it.

The difference between my two trips (so far) to Lima will be that, on reflection, the 1997 trip was probably 75% down time and 25% work. This time, I'll be spending seven consecutive fifteen hour days in the climate change whirlwind. There will be main events, side events, receptions, panel discussions, briefings, protests, security checks, shuttle trips (our hotel is 9 kilometres from the COP pavilion - or about an hour in Lima traffic), announcements, gossip, rumour and media scrums. 

I may wax nostalgic for the peace and quiet of the catacombs.

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen

Molly - Three Years On

A little more than three years ago, on November 19, 2011, we took our little Molly dog to the vet to send her on to her next reward.

This photo was taken about five years ago, in December 2009, when she should still see and play with her ball.

Some subscribers may recall that This Week's Picture was originally an e-mail series and, for many years, the featured photograph was of the dog. 

For the information of subscribers recently joined to this blog, there is a Molly the Dog blog that recounts the highlights of her career.

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People continue to ask us, as we proceed doglessly, whether or not we would have another dog.

The early answer to that question was "no." Mostly because we were not in the mood to need to eventually put another dog down.

The answer evolved over time to "not now." Because, once past the pain of Molly's passing, we could recall more clearly how much joy there is in having a dog. But there's the present problem that we both work office jobs and we would want a companion, not a prisoner in solitary confinement for most of its day.

Recently, when asked the dog question, we've been saying, "probably, but not until we retire." And, for the first time in our lives, we're not only thinking about retirement, but have turned a lot of energy toward figuring out how to do that as soon as possible.

We may be as close as three years to the day when our grey-haired colleagues will shake our hands one last time, roughly the same span of time since Molly's been gone. 

The blink of an eye, really, then, before we find ourselves another furry little friend.

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen