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Nerding out on the

I enjoyed reading Ken Wilson’s chapter “Thinking about the ethics of fieldwork” in “Fieldwork in Developing Countries.” I want to focus on one sentence found on page 186 that says, “…people who are aware of being observed, tend to report or behave in a biased fashion, either willfully or subconsciously…if a researcher attempts to observe a work routine, for example, people will almost certainly alter it…” (p.186)

Forgive me while I nerd out on this for a minute. This happens to me sometimes and I can’t help it.

This “observer effect” has been the subject of speculation and debate in the field of theoretical and quantum physics for the last 80 years or so. But I think it has implications that go far beyond the theoretical realms and into the world of practical applications. The idea that the act of observation fundamentally changes the phenomenon that is being observed has dramatic and real world implications.

In some fields of study it is more obvious. In electronics the observer effect needs to be factored in when using ammeters and voltmeters to measure a current or voltage. By being connected to a system these meters can present an additional load that can in effect change the current and voltage. In thermodynamics for example, a thermometer must absorb some amount of thermal energy in order to measure temperature. By absorbing this energy they are in effect lowering the temperature of the body they are measuring. wheelereye

In quantum physics the observer effect is less intuitive because it is carried out in the dimension of the quantum universe (very very tiny). In order to measure the location or direction and momentum of an electron for example, that electron must be bombarded with a photon or another electron. The result of this collision is an observation and a quantified measurement which places that electron in time and space. But this bombardment fundamentally changes the nature of the electron which was moments before existing in a state of indeterminate potentialities and probability matrices(NERD!). Meaning that it didn’t really have a location in 3 dimensional space, but rather it had a probability of existing somewhere within our event horizon (all possibilities) until only through the act of observation does it find a real home in the space time continuum (the collapse of the wave function).

I know this stuff starts to sound outlandish and irrelevant pretty quickly, and it probably is. But hey this is MY blog and I am owning it! (How did I get myself into this verbal cul-de-sac anyway?)

Ahem…anyways…

In my opinion this lends credence to the “relativist” perspective that our individual realities, or the world as we see it and as we define in, are more a reflection of our frame of reference, or our methods of observation, and less a reflection of an underlying truth or fundamental characteristic of nature. John Archibald Wheeler (1911-2008), probably the preeminent thinker on this subject, articulated his view of with a graphic depicting the universe as a U-shape with the eye of the observer peering back at himself. Think about that for a second.

As my friend Adam Schumaker would say, Booya!!!

Although this all sounds really abstract, this phenomenon is fundamental in sculpting our understanding of the universe and therefore must be considered as a fundamental component when we design our data collection methodologies. Understanding (or at the very least carefully considering) the observer effect is crucial, whether our subject is a cauldron of super heated ammonia, a computer circuit board, or household energy budgets in Guatemalan highlands (my work this summer).

I propose a caveat: the burden of reporting unbiased and truthful representations of reality may be somewhat lessened when our goal is not purely finding a scientific or academic truth, but rather is to elicit a behavioral change or otherwise bring about some specific project objective such as the uptake of an improved cooking technology or the installation of a water pump. E.g. the burden of truth is lessened when we are doing a project rather than academic research. Because if if we state our projects objectives and intentions clearly from the beginning then the frame of reference from which we are operating is clearly defined and the results are tangible and can be evaluated in their proper context.

I’m rounding third base now, headin’ home…

The observer effect may be one of the most difficult biases that are brought into a fieldwork operation by the researcher. However it certainly is not the only one. Wilson goes on to discuss several other common pitfall that project designers can fall into. In fact, the whole scientific process from start to finish is full of ethical land mines to the extent that being inadvertently unethical may be inevitable and I expect that at some point every researcher will make an ethical mistake. The extent to which this mistake can be forgiven depends not only on the gravity of the resultant consequences, but also on the depths to which the researcher attempted to hold themselves to high moral and ethical standards.

Phew… that felt good…

Kick down some cash for Haiti!

Kick down some cash for Haiti! I could only afford $10, but at least its something!

Hatian-American Catherine Laine (Swarthmore 98), a personal friend, and a super hero of humanity in my opinion, is running operations for AIDG (Appropriate Infrastructure Development Group). I trust her more than I trust any of the big organizations. Remember that small organizations like this rely largely on volunteers, so overhead is minimal.

She is there now distributing aid where it is most needed.

She needs your help now!

Make a donation here:
https://co.clickandpledge.com/sp/d1/default.aspx?wid=14192

See her being interviewed here: http://www.boingboing.net/2010/01/15/haiti-earthquake-upd.html

The Tradegy of the Niger Delta

Boy on pipe In his article “Righteous Oil? The Oil Complex, and Corporate Social Responsibility,” Michael Watts weaves a pretty scary web in his portrayal of the “oil complex,” The oil complex could take many forms but the goal is always the same: get as much oil out as quickly and cheaply as possible. In the Niger Delta it has manifested as a complicated convergence of transnational oil companies, a state oil company and state and foreign militaries, and local paramilitaries all operating in a region that has multiple indigenous ethnic groups who live in abject poverty. Human rights are non-existent and the shear numbers of documented cases of human rights abuses are probably dwarfed only by the undocumented cases. It’s a very sad and disturbing situation that is one consequence of free unregulated globalization and the dogged pursuit to capitalize on the ever increasing demand from consumers and industries for fuel to run our cars, boats and machines.

If I were to devise a set of principles that governed the process of problem solving I might start with a First Law which would say something to the effect of “the complexity of the solution has to match the complexity of the problem.” Then there might be a Second Law of Problem Solving which would say more or less that, “once a solution is identified, to successfully engage it, the sum of all energies invested in the solution must be able to overcome the energy invested in creating the problem along with its self contained inertia.”

The chaotic and inhumane maelstrom that exists in the Niger Delta is extremely complicated. The energy that has been invested in its creation along with the inertia that holds together the system in which the problem is embedded is almost incomprehensible in scope. But to give up because the problem is overwhelming would be unconscionable. We have to double down our bet and go all in if our solution is to overcome the complexity, energy and inertia of the problem. Its critical to address this immediately and forcefully on multiple fronts.

The energy that has been invested in the Delta has come from profit seeking capitalist. From my perspective on the outside looking in these oil drilling cowboys seem to be working within a global market free-for-all rodeo in which few rules and regulations to limit the pursuit of their passion- to accumulate as much wealth and power as possible before they die. It would be easy to hate them and think they must be inherently evil. But I suspect it’s not their fault any more than it’s an alcoholic’s fault for taking another drink after they’ve already pissed their pants. Maybe greed and power cause a disease that destroys a person’s moral compass. If so it seems to be highly infectious. It must have infected everyone in the board room of Shell during the 1990s while they were complicit in the brutal suppression of the Ogoni (twenty-seven Ogoni villages destroyed, 2,000 Ogoni killed, and 80,000 people displaced according to this article: http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1295/is_n1_v60/ai_17963624/) Were there no voices of reason left in the board room? No one left to ask the question, “What is the real cost of this project in terms of human suffering or environmental devastation and is it worth it?”

Another part of the problem:
One of the unintended consequences of the free market is that decisions made in corporate have historically been judged only on their ability to generate profits for their stockholders. And these stockholders are like absentee landlords, or slumlords, caring only about a return on their investment and not on the means by which that return is achieved. But the non-monetary effects of these decisions are rarely felt by stockholders who only see a quarterly or yearly report of their financial holdings. The communities where the company operates are usually the beneficiaries of the majority of the consequences of the decisions made in corporate headquarters. These communities have the most a stake and yet they are usually excluded completely from the process. Only when they take arms and rise up in violent revolt attacking the infrastructure if the oil-complex do they have their voice heard. This is a cycle of violence that will lead in a downward spiral. Its not just bad for people and the environment, but its bad for business too. Not to mention morally wrong and completely unsustainable.

Part of the solution:
If these cowboys are beyond cure then they need a sheriff to come to their town and break up their party of destruction. This enforcer should be an internationally recognized arbiter in the same vein as the international criminal court and it needs to be backed by an army of well funded prosecutors, investigators and lawyers seeking to follow the crime wherever it may lead. All countries, starting with the US, must sign on to these regulatory and enforcement mechanisms or face stiff embargoes on non-essential imports and exports. The UN Draft Norms on the Responsibilities of Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises with Regard to Human Rights (http://www1.umn.edu/humanrts/links/NormsApril2003.html), released in 2003 seems like a good place to start. As Watts points out it addresses “non-discrimination, protection of civilians, laws of war, use of security forces, worker rights, corruption, economic and social and cultural rights, the environment, and indigenous people’s rights.

In section H. General Provisions for Implementation, item number 17 says ”states should establish and reinforce the necessary legal and administrative framework for assuring that the Norms and other relevant national and international laws are implemented by transnational corporations and other business enterprises.” Of course that makes the most sense if the state has an independent judiciary. But in the absence of that and without clear and decisive leadership from a state, we need to haul the perpetrators in front of an international tribunal and convict them and repatriate their money back into the communities that they screwed over.

“The End of Cheap Oil,” by Campbell and Laherrere – compared to – “Risks of the Oil Transition,” by Farrel and Brandt

“The End of Cheap Oil,” by Campbell and Laherrere

• diminishing oil supplies will lead to severe economic and geopolitical consequences by 2010

This article, written in 1998, brings the reader’s attention to the supply of global conventional crude oil and predicts that by 2010 the demand will begin to outpace supply leading to severe economic and geopolitical consequences. They base this claim on the Hubbert Curve which states that the unrestrained extraction of any finite resource will rise along a bell shaped curve that peaks when about half the resource is gone. Using estimates of global crude oil reserves they go on to make their point that extraction rates in 1998 were approaching the peak of the curve and would soon start to decline. They go on to say that unconventional oil reserves (heavy oil, tar sand, and shale) will not be able to fill the gap in demand because the industry will not be able to ramp up production quickly enough.

“Risks of the Oil Transition,” by Farrel and Brandt

• Peak oil is coming soon: Substitutes are plentiful but come with high risk to the environment.

Farrel and Brandt agree that conventional oil production will inevitably peak, but this paper focuses on the long range implications of the transition to substitutes. Their main argument is that substitutes for conventional petroleum (SCP’s) are plentiful enough to meet the excess demand from peak oil scenarios, but these fuels are associated with higher production costs, higher emissions of green house gases (GHG’s) and geopolitical concerns. They say that in managing this transition period we must take an integrated approach and consider the environmental, economic, and strategic risks. Of these factors the biggest risk is to the environment because people are more likely to put a higher priority on security and economics. They conclude that the first principle of energy security is diversification of supply which must include a significant investment in SCP’s as well as non-fossil fuel renewable energies.

Comparison of above articles
Both of these articles agree that peak oil is a real scenario. The main difference is in their explanations of what happens beyond peak oil. Campbell and Laherrere are more pessimistic about the industry’s ability to meet demand with substitutes. Farrel and Brandt explore the transition process beyond peak oil and see an abundance of SCP’s filling in and bringing along huge risks to the environment. With respect to future energy prices, there is agreement that as we transition beyond peak oil prices will go up. However, because Campbell and Laherrere do not see SCP’s coming into play soon enough, there will be a more dramatic (perhaps economically devastating) price increase. It seems that both scenarios lead to less energy security as OPEC’c proportion of the world oil reserves increases steadily. This is because we will become increasingly dependent on OPEC countries like Iran, Iraq, Libya, Saudi Arabia, and Venezuela, countries that are increasingly hostile to US interests. Farrel and Brandt go on to warn that increases in SCP production comes with high environmental risks because they lead to higher GHG emissions, while it is feasible to see that the Campbell and Laherrere scenario could lead to reduced GHG emissions as a result of a global economic depression.

Cap and trade versus a tax on carbon as a mechanism for reducing greenhouse gas emissions (200 words)

One distinct advantage of cap and trade versus a carbon tax as a policy mechanism for reducing GHG emissions is that it allows us to meet any carbon emission goal we decide upon simply by setting the carbon cap at that level. In this scheme carbon credits would be traded in the market place, allowing entrepreneurs to use their own ingenuity to determine where and how the reductions actually take place. One big drawback to this plan is that the costs and overall effect on the economy are difficult to predict, and in these times of extreme economic turmoil, this uncertainty could be a tough pill to swallow. Another challenging aspect of cap and trade is the extreme complexity involved in the accounting for emissions from each source. Alternatively, a tax on carbon will certainly lead to decreased emission and at a more predictable cost. However, the actual reductions are not easy to predict and therefore the tax structure will need to be adjusted regularly. Decreasing the tax would be easy for politicians, however if the tax needs to be increased to meet our emissions goals (a likely scenario), it will be a very difficult political maneuver.

Cutter Butter With a Chainsaw

When Amory Lovins refers to energy in terms of “quality,” he is referencing one of the principles in the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Entropy is the measure of disorder in the universe and the law states that entropy (disorder) is always increasing. Because of this law there is a spontaneous direction in which energy transformation processes occur, and that direction is always from higher quality (more order) to lower quality energy(less order). To go from low quality energy such as heat, to high quality energy such as electricity, requires the input of additional energy and never happens spontaneously. To use this process for the end-use need of heating air or water is wasteful and inefficient. Because producing electricity requires combustion of premium fuels (which are scarce) at relatively low efficiencies (30-40%), while air and water can be heated using other more simple methods with extremely high efficiencies. In his article, “Energy Strategies: The Road Not Taken,” Lovins uses the “cutting butter with a chainsaw” metaphor to point out that the US is using high quality electric energy (read chainsaw) when lower quality energy would suffice (read butter knife). This is part of what he refers to as the “hard path.” Cutting butter with a chainsaw (heating water with electricity) is part of the hard path because it is wasteful and inefficient. Therefore electricity should be reserved for end-use needs that specifically require high quality electric energy (lighting, electronics, telecommunications, appliances etc…) and not used as it often is for heating air and water a few degrees and other needs that could be met with low quality energy.

The Mustang and the Donkey

The climate talks are a lot like a car race if you think about it, but with a twist. Each country is racing toward the finish line as if getting there would be enough to win. But the twist in this race is that, in order to win, we have to all finish at the exact same time. If one country gets there sooner, then…oops…total calamity. The US is driving a 2010 Ford Mustang and is so far ahead of the nearest rival that we can’t even see them in the rearview mirror. China is driving a beat up 1970 Ford F150 and is chugging along with the finish line in sight. Their pit crew keeps replacing their car too and it’s likely that they will continue upgrading until they are cruising along as fast as the US. Some countries don’t have a chance to catch up. They don’t even have cars. Most of the African countries are riding horses and donkeys, or just running barefoot. Some other countries weren’t even told we were racing so they are still at the beginning.

The analogy here is that the architecture of the globalized economy is the race that we thought we were in. In that race, the US is winning and China is catching up. But the trick is that the rules have changed in the middle of the race and the new rules say that we are all in this race together. It seems possible the US can continue dominating the market with the old rules but unfortunately this will lead to us losing the bigger game, having a healthy, bountiful and prosperous planet to call our home. China has a shot at the gold too, with their economy breaking out of their industrial revolution as a genuine challenge to the US hegemony. But if they continue business as usual, we all lose.

OK. Time out! Let’s incorporate these new rules into the economic model so we don’t destroy everything that we hold most dear. We have to finish the race together and that means the global leaders need to slow down and focus on an equitable and sustainable solution that ensures our children and grandchildren can have a chance as well.

Learning Under the Full Moon

This is what I was doing when the tsunami hit

On December 26th, 2004, I was braving my way through back-roads in suspension-free pickups and trekking through rank, knee-deep mud with my sister Astara and friend Andy to reach Pangan Island in the Gulf of Thailand. Having just spent seven months in Hatyai (often call the “mini-Bangkok” for its pollution, chaos and other similarities to its big brother in the north) teaching English to highly spirited schoolchildren, this was a much-needed and much-anticipated break. We were on our way to Thailand ’s biggest annual Full Moon party, and I was already having a great time.

As the day was just beginning throughout the East, as we innocently embarked on our jarring, “multi-sport” travels, the first “Great Earthquake” (that is, any quake over 9.0 in magnitude) in more than 40 years shook the earth and lasted approximately 10 full minutes. Most earthquakes last only seconds. The reverberations continue today. Of course, this was the “Indian Ocean Earthquake” that set off the havoc-wreaking tsunami. Boxing Day Tsunami. The greatest non-man-made devastation in our lifetime.

I remember the moment we got the news. It was around noon and I was employing a Spiderman-grip and praying for a gravitational miracle to keep my body in the back of a particularly jaunty truck-bed. Like most of the other 15,000 people making their way to the festival, I was blissfully unaware of what had occurred, just 300 kilometers away, only 90 minutes earlier. And then, another hitchhiker asked, “Did you hear about the tsunami?”

“No. What tsunami?” I asked, still trying to avoid flying into the jungle.

“This morning it happened. I just heard about it. Yeah, I guess it was pretty big. It hit Thailand – hundreds of people may be dead.”

For the next 24 hours, little else was known or said about the tsunami. We had arrived, free of jungle body-toss episodes, and began our preparations for the Full Moon festival. It wasn’t until the next day – when we saw television reports – that the reality of what had occurred sunk in. We began to get a sense of the magnitude, and it was immediately clear that this was beyond anything seen or experienced before. It seemed like the world had changed in some very substantial way, but we didn’t quite know how – not yet. We certainly did not know how true that was.

It was not lost on me that because throngs of Andaman sea-vacationers leave their resorts and beaches to attend the world-famous Pangan Island party, the full moon may have actually saved many lives- including our own. It was our consoling thought for the moment.

Deciding to Go

So nature saved lives, by bringing them to Pangan, but of course, it was nature’s indiscriminate ruthlessness that caused the devastation to begin with. And in

a strange way, the randomness is exactly what made this so personal for me. With one simple twist of fate, this could have happened to anyone- me, my friends, my family. I think it was in that moment – with that understanding washing over me with such overwhelming clarity, knowing it was all so nearby, and knowing – most of all – that I COULD – the decision to go and help was made for me.

Yan Yao Temple Experience

Yan Yao Temple Crew

A college mate, Peter Balvanz (on holiday from his current residence in northern India ), Andy and I decided to go together. Our journey began with a few days of mental preparation in Khao Sok National Park – we talked, meditated, connected to nature and fended off leeches and bird-sized mosquitoes.

Our destination was the Yan Yao Temple , located in Takua Pa , Phang Nga, the town that had become the First Response regional center. We arrived on January 10th, and it was painfully and immediately clear that our attempts at “mental preparation” were in vain. We stepped into this traditional Southern Thai town on a breeze-less day with the sun in full Andaman strength, confronted by odors that were nearly tangible and awe-inspiring “ordered chaos,” comprised of disaster teams from Thailand , America , Sweden , Denmark , France and Germany – among others – in addition to a massive Thai military presence and countless international media.

We found our way to the temple, with only one agenda: to help. After registering, although we still did not know what our assignments would be, we were swiftly “prepared” with the following attire: several layers of plastic suits (to prevent bacterial infections), a gas mask, long rubber gloves and boots, and packing tape covering every possible seam.

We were led past the decontamination station, where exiting workers were sprayed down with disinfectant, and entered the transfer and processing station ? deep inside the sacred temple grounds. We were assigned to the post with the greatest need: and began to unload, sort and tag tsunami victims’ bodies for identification purposes, while others obtained DNA and dental samples. It was a seemingly never-ending flow of bodies: which after 14 days in the tropical sun and water, were bloated, disfigured and unrecognizable.

“These are not suffering people,” I repeated to myself, like a mantra, “these are shells, just bodies,” finding a way to quell the emotions which too, came in overpowering waves – particularly strong when faced with child- or infant-sized bodies. And all around me, as we were physically and emotionally engaged beyond anything we could have imagined just days before, I witnessed acts of beauty and kindness. I am forever grateful to the tender young man who wiped my face down with a cool damp cloth, poured cold water into my mouth so I could work more comfortably. As I write these words ten months later, I am again overwhelmed with emotion.

After three, grueling days, Peter, Andy and I decided to venture 10 km down the road to the Baan Muang temporary camp for displaced people.

Despite our nearness the past 72-hours, for the first time, I saw the sea that unleashed this terrible nightmare. Still, looking at the water — crystal clear and peaceful — did nothing to make it conceivable.

Tsunami Volunteer Center Experience

I first heard about the Tsunami Volunteer Center Tsunami Volunteer Center? when it was almost nothing more than a centralizing organization for independent volunteers – from other workers at Yan Yao. We’d heard there was a community of volunteers staying at the Khao Lak Nature Resort, where survivors and volunteers could stay for free. Our destination now clear, we began to hitch, and when our second ride picked us up and said, ” Sawadee Khap “(hello), with a deep, sincere smile, we knew it would be a nice ride. We didn’t know until moments later that he was, in fact, Khun Somporn Sinthop (P’ Kaew), the generous owner of the Nature Resort, now legendary for his acts of bravery and kindness.

When I arrived, it became clear that TVC provided a sense of community around the tragedy that I’d been needing, and I discovered many like-minded friends. The energy was electric as the Center was being forged out of the wave’s destruction. Hundreds of passionate international volunteers, combined with the experienced Thai leadership of Khun Sombat Boonngamanong (P’ Nuling) and his team of 23 from the TVC’s umbrella organization, the Mirror Art Group. The result: a powerful drive to provide support to survivors in the region.

At 37, P’ Nuling, Director of the Mirror Art Group Mirror Art Group (www.mirrorartgroup.org), is already a leader in community activism, community development, and minority and child rights in Bangkok and Northern Thailand . His inspiration provided an unimaginably powerful guiding force for me and many others.

P’ Nuling had come to the area on December 30, with the intention of staying for a week. Today, with the participation of more than 3,500 volunteers from over 45 countries, the Center has been involved in the rebuilding and restoration of a dozen villages, worked with over 1,000 area schoolchildren, assisted in the formation of many small businesses, and partnered with dozens of non-profits and NGOs in the region to provide hope for countless area people. Moving well past P’ Nuling’s originally intended departure date, the TVC has since committed to remaining in Phang Nga throughout the restoration process – as many years as it takes.

The nature of the work has changed as dramatically as the vista. In those early days, there were many immediate needs: displacement housing for tens of thousands, food and water distribution, children needing a stabilizing presence’ in their schools, searches for missing survivors, and more.

My first assignment was a month of “teaching” in Khuk Kak Elementary School . Although the building was not in the path of the wave, many of its students and faculty were. My short-term goal was not English-language vocabulary building, but to create a safe place for the young survivors (ages 12-14) to have fun, and to let them know it was OK to be sad at the same time. Looking back, I was right where I needed to be – with the children ? preparing for the future. I love those kids.

In February, I was doing fundraising and getting more involved in internal operations and project development. We were still in the “reactive” phase as an organization at this point, for the most part by necessity, and looking back over the past 10 months, I can say our maturation overall has been very organic, intuitive and needs-based.

Turning money into relief

In the immediate aftermath of the tsunami, record funds were generously donated to disaster relief organizations such as the Red Cross and UNICEF . Now, of course, when I speak to reporters, government officials, foreign embassy representatives and donors, their foremost question is: “Where did all the money go?” And then, “Why has it taken so long to reach construction and development?” I believe it is always vital to remember the historical context; however recent, and even more importantly, to recognize that money without manpower can never translate to relief.

For political reasons, many countries — including Thailand — rejected large-scale foreign aid, leaving disaster relief organizations with billions of dollars to spend and very few qualified people on the ground to manage its distribution. Naturally, funding is crucial, but it is only one part of the extremely complicated rebuilding process. To convert to meaningful relief, people on the ground must be connected to the needs of the local population. And when a disaster on the unprecedented scale of the tsunami struck, it defied not only our imaginations, it defied any potential preparedness planning — including adequately trained, on-the-ground decision makers.

The result in Phang Nga , for example, was that the vacuum was filled by dozens of ad-hoc, volunteer-staffed NGOs of varying degrees of ability and connectedness to the local environment. Some, like TVC , understood the importance of involving the survivors in the rebuilding and have experienced solid success as a result. Others, who worked in isolation, have taken their good intentions and moved on with little satisfaction.

Lessons Learned

Here’s how I define successful projects: they are built around community empowerment; they help people develop skills to support themselves. They respond to the self-defined needs of the community and do not import agendas from outside. They serve a community rather than an individual whenever possible. Too often I have seen misguided aid create jealousy and greed and break a community apart, in the end causing more harm than good.

Ten months later, like most NGOs in the area, we have transitioned into community development work (small business development, child outreach, vocational training, etc.) and focused less on disaster relief. Although many are still without permanent housing, most people have moved into newly built homes. What these people need now are job skills because the booming tourism industry was nearly completely destroyed and many lifelong fishermen never want to return to the sea. New income generation schemes are being developed in villages such as handicrafts, furniture making, and small scale eco-tourism and home-stays.

Returning to Normal?

It is impossible for those of us who work here every day not to be plagued by certain questions. Will life ever return to normal? What is normal? Maybe there is no such thing. Maybe there is just life ? each and every individual has their own ? they must accept it and live it the best they can. Even natural disasters like the tsunami are a part of it and remind us of our inextricable connectedness to the Earth ? the vulnerable and temporary existence we have where nothing is guaranteed to anyone. Having said that, I believe we are beginning to see signs of renewal. No guarantees, but there is certainly hope — we definitely have hope, as the signs of renewal remind us every day.

Some communities are stronger than ever before. Just last night, I went to a funeral in Laem Pom Village for the cousin of P’ Daeng, Village Chief. In Laem Pom, nearly half of the 180 residents were killed when the 10 meter tall wave came barreling through this peaceful beachside community. My friend P’ Daeng lost 8 family members in the tsunami including her sister and 8 year-old daughter. I have been working closely with her since early May when we began sending volunteers to assist the village in rebuilding their homes. Construction went on during the monsoons and P’ Daeng and the other villagers lived through it in tents and ate in a communal kitchen.

Her cousin’s body was finally identified after nearly ten months and his immediate family was eager to be able to send him to the next world properly. (I should note that funerals in Thailand are different than the solemn affairs I am used to in the U.S. They are filled with food, jovial conversation and laughter late into the night, with more rejoicing than mourning.) Early in the evening, Buddhist monks from the nearby temple were invited to lead the community in chants and meditation. Being in the community after sunset, without the commotion of construction, I was finally able get a sense of what this place can be again. There was a feeling of peace and calm as friends and family gathered to honor the life of a departed loved one. The crickets and frogs were singing a raucous symphony under stars framed by palm trees, with waves from the calm October sea lapping on the nearby shore.

This community is looking forward with hope. The help they received from hundreds of volunteers and generous donors has empowered them with the knowledge that they are not alone in their struggle. For me, seeing Laem Pom, and communities like it, get back on their feet, is all the reward I need for my work here. In fact, I know there is no going back for me. I will continue on this path of giving, wherever it leads me, because I can see nothing more worthy to dedicate my life to.

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