A tale of 2 cities: Paris & Ghent

What about Ghent? ...... and how come Paris?........

My new boss lives in Ghent and was good enough to offer me a historical tour of the beautiful city. I can't thank him enough for the time he took to show me around on this unseasonably warm though rainy December afternoon.

Ghent is historically one of the most important cities in Europe having partnered with more suitors that Elizabeth Taylor. Though unlike Lizzie, the suitors were not chosen but rather insisted that they just take over the strategically placed industrial center. Not even dinner and a kiss first. Military takeover, excessive taxation followed by rebellion was the theme for a significant period of time.The middle ages saw Ghent as the second largest city in Northern Europe (after Paris) with over 50,000 souls in 1300. The center of power and influence at that time even larger than Moscow and Cologne.

The city is absolutely majestic with photo ops at every turn and that sense of incredulity as the context is revealed though dates, time lines and historical markers that dredge ancient memories of sleepy moments during history 100....it now makes a bit of sense.....

Now mainly a cradle of learning boasting seats for more than 30,000 university students, it is also easily within high speed train reach of Antwerp and Brussels. It is then a great alternative for workers from Antwerp or Belgium. Not only all that, but you get front row seats to the 10 day Ghent festival in July. With close to 1.5 million visitors, it's a world class festival.


A note on the beer.....9% and absolutely delicious.... you're kidding me!!! That is a deadly combination evidenced by my wobbly legged resumption of the exportation tour after reluctantly sliding off the barstool. The "brown bar" was the oldest in Ghent having been in operation for over 500 years (I think that's right). While I sampled a sweet light concoction, my tour director enjoyed a brew made locally by Monks. It can only be purchased by lottery and you have to go to the Abbey to get it. The details are foggy (back to the 9%) but a very unique and interesting. I couldn't help think of the Seinfeld "Soup Nazi" episode but wisely though not to bring that up. "NO BEER FOR YOU!"

Above, an early example of the power of socialism in the region. Ghent, an important industrial center was also an exercise in balancing the enthusiasms of the industrial revolution with the needs of workers.

Arguably, one of the most important contributions of the region. Thinking of the feudal roots of Europe, balancing the rights of individuals and working toward equality in that day and age must have been a pretty dangerous occupation. I bet that building has some pretty interesting stories to tell. Ahhh if the walls had ears.

Dinner... ahhhhhh, a Belgian tradition.... Mussels and Pommes Frites with a killer white wine.

 

 

 

And Paris....how come......

 

Pictured above is a worker getting ready for the night's dinner trade on a busy street in South East Paris. Hours of work will go into this street side display. And like all the shops, restaurants and associated entertainment venues, they'll be packed with people. Even on a cool December Wednesday night as I walked in wonder of all the people out....smoking (of course) drinking and laughing along the sidewalks. I guess there is nothing good on TV on a Wednesday night .....

And all his only blocks from the memorial to the Paris tragedy of November 13th. This site, where over 100 people were murdered is still busy with people, flowers, and other tokens of the love Parisians have for their city and way of life. And this is an attack on a way of life. Parish the thought that people can find contentment and joy outside the institutions of organized religion. As I stood there near midnight in the rain, it was with others who stood silently out of respect, out of love and out of a sense that decency must somehow prevail. It's wrong.......

In my humble opinion, and having the great fortune of visiting many of the world's greatest cities Paris is without equal. The pulse and energy of the city infect you in a way that brings joy and wonder. For the adventurous it is both a place of peace and unfettered possibilities. Vive la France.

Looking west while passing over Egypt as the sun goes down on a another wonderful day....

Thanks for reading ....Layno

Brussels sprouts at Christmas

Une Ville Magnifique

I "have to" spend a week in Brussels working at the head office. The weather is a far cry from the much loved African days I have come to enjoy so well. Balmy breezes replaced by a wet winter bite that stays with you well after you get to shelter. On a number of nights I pulled on my raincoat and wandered the rain-slick foggy and narrow streets of Brussels. Once in a while I slipped into the warmth of a pub for a cold glass  of Belgian beer and to listen to the boisterous stories told as much with hands and voices as the beautiful French language. It's just like the books I've read. Though dark and brooding, Brussels is dripping with history and mystery - a perfect treat for the intrepid explorer.

Pictured below is how a project starts. After the exploratory work is done the team heads to Brussels to "pitch" their case to the various (and there are many) support people on the team. This is a project for a malaria treatment project in South America. You can see the South American team on the monitor as they watch and participate in the debate. It a delicate balance of assessing needs and weighing them against the organizations resources, expertise and responsibilities to our principles.This is Humanitarian aid in action and it's a privilege to be a part of something so important and well done. Imagine the intricacies of weighing the political, economic, medical and social needs of a country or region. In this case, it's a change in government in Venezuela that necessarily becomes part of the discussion.

I took the time to visit the Musees Royaux des Beau Arts in Brussels. It was a wonderful show displaying masters alongside a surrealist exhibition. From Peter Paul Rubens to Rene Margritte which is somewhat like a performance featuring Celine Dion and Courtenay Love. I'm not a big Rubens fan though his impact on the evolution of art is undeniably significant. While the baroque style was so important in emphasizing movement color and sensuality it fails in my view to communicate any sense of hope regardless of the difficult times in which the pieces were produced. Always a purveyor of hope - I have my biases....

Contrast that with the playful work of Margritte who so delightfully establishes the preposterous as a possibility. The look of disgust or disdain by a pig is a a perfect contradictory statement against the backdrop of established and serious measures. The well cut suit and grand city in the background are no match for the look of indignation. This little piggy went to market - so what - go fuck yourself.!!!

The sights and sounds are wonderful but for me this experience is about the food. Where to start - the beer, the chocolate - the waffles or even the Belgian endive. It's fantastic. Whether it's handmade chocolates in shops that have been doing it for over 100 years, waffles that look like something out of a cartoon, or a simple bottle of wine, cheese and baguette, there is no end to delicious in Brussels.

Walking into a chocolate shop is almost as good as eating...

Thanks for reading - Layno

Why Uganda?

From Entebbe to Kampala.... green and clean!

So far Uganda wins! It's a country whose natural beauty and cool vibe are undeniable. When you arrive in Uganda, you swing in a lazy arc over the expanse of Lake Victoria and settle into the Entebbe airport neatly arranged on it's shore. It's the scene where in June 1976 the Israelis in a "not so neat" raid stormed the jetliner held by the PLO. This created significant diplomatic confusion though ostensibly saved the lives of over 100 hostages. Idi Amin, though generally his custom, did not send a Christmas card to the Israeli government in that year. Today, the Jetliner has been bought by some enterprising Ugandan and turned into a restaurant. Would you like the assault rifle fries with you RPG burger? I'll stop there...

The scene of the 1976 hijacking

Pictured above is the view from the hotel where I attended a meeting. That's Lake Victoria in the distance beautifully bordered in the leafy green of banana trees and other assorted botanical unknowns. Kampala is mostly a mountain with all kinds of up and down bits paint brushed lush and green. In fact the hour drive from Entebbe into the bustling city of Kampala is notable because of the green...really green but also the almost complete absence of any garbage. It's a battle not yet won in Nairobi that one just becomes accustomed to. So as commonplace as it is in Nairobi, here it's absence was quite remarkable. Uganda is also the gateway to the Gorillas and a more reasonably priced experience than coming in from the Rwanda side. I will be traveling to Uganda on a regular basis so look forward to taking that in soon.

Fresh Matoke while a "banana" is closer to a potato in many ways.

Kampala is bustling with activity. Though reportedly as many as 5 million souls pass time in the city, it still feels like a small town. The streets are generally a lane in each direction with commercial activity being a proliferation of small village market shops competing for a few shillings here and there.

Kampala roadside market

There is a nice vibe to the hustle bustle. People seem to be living in peace. There's a relatively stable government, (expected to be re-elected in February). The incumbent, Yoweri Museveni of the National Resistance Party appearing on billboards looking more like a grandfatherly farmer than politician. Little has changed since 1986 although 2006 elections were in the Supreme Court's words "marred by intimidation, violence, voter disenfranchisement, and other irregularities" however - the court voted 4-3 to uphold the results of the election! Hmmmmm..........

Yoweri Museveni

National Resistance Movement

26 January 1986

There is an excellent climate and ability to live in some comfort at a low cost with conspicuously absent; the ubiquitous desperation that accompanies poverty in the larger cities.I should be careful with my comments about relative comfort as the comparator is the city slums of sub-Saharan Africa and not the breezy tree lined streets of Bel Air California.

Matoke is everywhere being a reasonably priced though challenging food to cook. I shared a plane seat with Ruth and was "taught" how to prepare it properly. Here's what Ruth told me:

Matoke are peeled using a knife, wrapped in the plant's leaves (or plastic bag) and set in a cooking pot atop the banana stalks. The pot is then placed on a charcoal or wood fire and the matoke is steamed for a couple hours, water is poured into the bottom of the cooking pot multiple times. The stalks in the bottom of the pot serve to keep the leaf-wrapped fruits above the level of the hot water. 

While uncooked, the matoke is white and fairly hard; cooking turns it soft and yellow. The matoke is then mashed while wrapped in the leaves or bags and often served on a fresh banana leaf. It is typically eaten with a sauce made of vegetables, ground peanut, or some type of meat (goat or beef). It seems like a lot of work but quite delicious.

On my way for a swim yesterday (there's a fantastic public outdoor pool a block from my house) i heard music coming from this little shop. I poked my head in and saw a man seated at a piano. "Can you drum" he asked? "Hells ya!!" I responded enthusiastically (though the more accurate response would have been, just barely) but I jumped on the kit and we tapped and and jammed to some funky jazz. Afterwards we hugged, smiled and promised one another to do this again soon.

Leaving the pool after my swim I came across the painting pictured alongside and am currently negotiating a reasonable price for it's surrender with the artist. It's tittled Ecstasy by Bezalel Ngabo and is about 1 meter by 2. It's a powerful piece that really captured my attention. All of his work can be seen if you click the link. Inside the mind also really appeals to me. 

The point for me is to remember to get out from behind the TV, smart phone, Laptop etc and go enjoy life. You never know when you might find yourself Jamming with some cool jazz cats on a sunny Saturday somewhere in Africa. Life just happens if you let it
 

 

Thanks for reading Layno

Matatu Matata

An important transport link but at what cost?

Classic Matatu Action in Nairobi

Nairobi moves by Matatu. Not buses or subway but rather a fleet of small vans almost exclusively manufactured by Nissan (though occasionally Toyota) that are diesel powered, seemingly indestructible and capable of carrying 14 passengers in complete discomfort.

Pictured above is likely 17 Transees or more jammed into the space the size of a bathroom.  And as is the case above, the "tout" hangs off the side as the pirate vessel assisting with negotiating the path to destination. The "tout" serves a very important function. He or she  (though rarely she)  takes the money and through various tactics tries to attract as many passengers as possible to his/her Matatu. It's a scene of constant chaos and confusion with the tout yelling,  horns hooting and  over-revved engines complaining with great gusts of black smoke that swirl ominously above.

Thanks to The Lion King most of the world is familiar with the expression Hakuna Matata!! Hakuna, the Kiswahili word meaning "There isn't any" and Matata meaning "problem". There isn't any problem declared Poombah as a philosophy for a happy life!
However, more common in Nairobi is the expression  Matatu Matata. In others words Matatus are a problem.


 The scene on the left is all too common on the streets of Nairobi. Every Matatu is a dented battle-scarred paint scrapped tin can with wheels splayed wearily looking for just one more rider. No significant rain means the vehicles last well beyond their useful life  making them unsafe even when parked by the roadside. On one day I saw 4 accidents during the 7 km trek to work. Each accident inevitably features the ubiquitous Matatu at the center of it all. A ticket will cost 30 to 60 bob which is roughly equivalent to CDN 40 cents to just under a buck for a long ride across town. An event as exciting as any 5 ticket ride at the fair though without the safety measures one would expect.

As they bump and grind their way from place to place like vultures trying in vain to imitate hummingbirds, vehicles and people are occasionally hit along the way. This is big problem as pedestrians are generally at fault and it's the walkers job to stay out of the way of vehicles unlike my experience in North America. Such are the realities of life in developing countries.

Related to this problem is that Matatus are often not held responsible for the mayhem they create. And why would this be? Well, commonly held beliefs are that the Saccos (groups of Matatus) are owned and operated by high-ranking members of the police force. Traffic violations are then overlooked, with accident investigations held at roadside and tending to focus on blaming the victim. 

So folks have had enough. Recently there has been a spate of vigilante justice where folks work cooperatively to flip the Matatu over, douse with kerosene and set on fire. That fixes that!!

The crowed environment inside a Matatu is another unique and interesting dynamic. As people squish into one another to reach their seats the perfect opportunities are created for thugs and pickpockets. Whether its extortion or theft, people have had enough and knowing the police will do nothing, the common response is to hold the perpetrator until the Matatu reaches a sufficiently high speed and then simply throw the offender from the vehicle. That fixes that!

I heard a story recently about a driver who was pulled over by police for no obvious reason. This means that a shakedown is inevitable. During the interview, the driver was able to produce everything that was required frustrating the officer greatly. Finally the officer said "where are your glasses"? "Well I don't wear glasses" declared the driver. "Ahhh" said the officer - "do you have a letter from your doctor to prove that "?.... commence shakedown....

 Who needs a Matatu when you have this cool dude!!!! Camels are so chill.

Without the nimble little Matatu, Nairobi would simply come to a standstill. It's a necessary part of the interrelated set of commercial mechanisms in developing countries and their major cities. At the same time, Nairobi's potential is fettered by Matatu Matata and other associated practices that are holding this beautiful country back. The solution is simple. Mass transit would solve the transportation problem but how do you take on a project as significant as mass transit given that corruption is not yet in the rear view mirrors of the city's multitude of Matatus. Wait... they have no rear view mirrors...Well there's always Camels!

Thanks for reading - Layno

A New Crew!!

Onwards!!!! in Africa

MSF (Doctors without Borders) teams from around the world came together to support demands for an independent investigation of the American/Afgan War Crimes in Kunduz.  The group above is the team I now work with in Nairobi. In the background you can see our fancy warehouse where we spend our time coordinating the supply and logistic requirements for Central Africa. This is a shiny brand new position for me and I am honored to be given this new responsibility. I will be working diligently with this highly skilled and dedicated team to ensure we get what is needed to the Docs in the field. The team responds to requests for supplies to address nutrition campaigns, immunization against disease, natural disasters and of course emergency medical aid for victims of conflict. From paper clips to Paracetamol.....we make it happen...and fast!!!

Recently my Mom, ever the voice of reason and philosophical probing in my life, talked about our organization and the lack of press. And when I think back to my life in Canada, Doctors without Borders was a collection of vague notions of bravery and good intentions in a world I knew too little about. (Maybe that's changing....MSF got a mention in the New James Bond movie Spectre. Now that is the big time!!)

But it was over a cup of coffee at the Port Renfrew Hotel with a stranger that I learned about the importance of the work being done. Starting with  a conversation about the motorcycles (of course) we were riding, we drifted toward discussion of his work with MSF - the suffering - the need for people to recognize the absence of real information about what is going on in some parts of the world. We sat for hours hunched over cups of coffee and talked in almost conspiratorial tones of the secrets and realities left untold or ignored. I was fascinated.

And my Mom is right (of course). The puzzle pieces of middle East/ African realities are scattered thoroughly. The press, try as they might, have little ability to gather all the flotsam and Jetsam and arrange into some kind of comprehensive offering. 

Even in his very festive Bow Tie Poncho looks sad.

And so here we are with a new tragedy before us. It reminds me of a cool morning on Sept 11 when a man stopped me on the jogging trail and told me that New York was under attack. I remember thinking that life has changed forever...and it had. I had the same feeling on November 13th when celebrating my 53rd birthday I had that same feeling. A brutal,barbaric and incomprehensible attack on the City of Love.

Is it the case that ISIS is the antithesis of our BBC/ Al Jazeera inspired sense of knowing the world around us?  When I think of the millions and millions of disenfranchised who suffer a near unimaginable daily existence, it starts to make sense to. The rules of war, The Geneva convention and a sense of fair play are not the playbook of future conflicts that are now clearly inevitable.

I promise to lighten up in my next Blog but it's a time for reflection. Our greatest institutions are not the Canadian Parliament Buildings, the Acropolis or even Madison Square Gardens in New Your City. They are the City of Love and the freedom to live as we chose. To protect those institution we may have to learn to share.....

My heart goes out to the people of France and my efforts to supporting the truly important institutions.

Thanks Lucy.... The Dino is short for Dinosaur by the way....Cow!

 Heading out for a morning Run at Karura forest with Sam. Thanks for Reading!!! Layno