Technology of Love

If you know Catbird at all, you know she is completely besotted with her grandson.  Since Dear Boy lives in Indiana and Grammy Catbird lives in Sweet Home Austin, much of our relationship is through the wonders of video technology provided by Skype.  

Dear Boy is three years old and will begin Montessori School September 1, but potty training must be accomplished for this to succeed.  Dear Boy has the mechanics down, but would rather continue whatever has caught his focus than interrupt play to keep his pants dry.  Motivation has been difficult to maintain.  Dear Boy has patient and creative parents who continue to try new things.  Trying to help, Grammy Catbird offered to buy Dear Boy the gift of his choice if he could go one whole week with dry pants.  Dear Boy thought about it for a moment and replied, "hmm...well, maybe I could go one day."


A trip to the library (one of the wonderful things Dear Boy's parents do with him) turned up a Sid the Science Kid video that involved the use of charts.  Dear Boy loves Sid the Science Kid and his clever Mama was inspired to make a chart for recording potty successes, which Dear Boy was anxious to tell Grammy Catbird about on their last Skype call.


Grammy Catbird loves all things crafty and wanted to find out how Dear Boy enjoyed that process.  


She asked, "What did you use to make a chart?"
 "Stickers!"

Ah.  Grammy Catbird asked, "Great, and when you made the chart did you use...a squirt gun?"  
Dear Boy giggled and said, "nooOOOOooo..."  

"Did you use...Hairspray?"  
Again, giggles and "nooooOOOOooo.."


"Did you use a ruler?"  
Dear Boy looked confused, then looked at his Mama, who said,  "Um, actually, we used the computer."


Oh.

A computer.


Of course.

Clearly Grammy Catbird was conjuring images from the middle of the previous century. Sigh... My physicist says someday we may be called upon to demonstrate the lost skills of an earlier era.  Catbird keeps an old cigar box stocked with crayons,  construction paper, scissors and a ruler for just such an occasion.  She has a recipe for playdough in her head, too, and knows how to create a fort from dining chairs and old blankets.  Whether the situation calls for computer technology or paste and paper, when it comes to her grandson, Grammy Catbird is ready.

A Lovely Postscript

Born 13 August, 2010 (day after HandsOn School closed), to Dr. Kennedy Fozao, University of Buea laboratory colleague of my physicist at the HandsOn School, a son:

Harry Batinyuy Fozao

Consider my physicist (AKA Harry) proud and honored.  Catbird, too.

Coming Back, an Epilogue

In our final days at the Buea Cameroon HandsOn School (http://handsonresearch.org/), Catbird asked the international faculty what they most looked forward to in returning home. These eminent scientists had volunteered their summer vacation time, research and teaching expertise, passion for science, and grace under difficult and unpredictable circumstances for two-plus weeks of hard work in Buea, Cameroon.  They traveled from India, Scotland, and various parts of the U.S.; and, in addition to those countries, represented Colombia, Canada, France, Germany and England.  

 

Mt Cameroon from U. Buea Campus

Someone please pass Catbird a thesaurus so she can look for a variety of superlatives because this group rocked.   With at least two extra days for set up at U. Buea, and no telling how much planning and preparation at home, these scientists maintained a grueling two week teaching schedule.  Eight a.m. daily we departed the hotel by bus for the 15-minute ride to U. Buea, where the faculty then ran their labs, facilitated presentations and discussions, judged poster sessions, conducted tutorials, presented scientific demonstrations, organized round table discussions and supplemental sessions, etc. until 8 p.m. when we crammed back on the bus to return to the hotel.  With no running water on campus (and not always at the hotel),  power outages, intermittent internet connections, absent and delayed equipment, traveler's complaint, bee stings, and at least one case of full blown food poisoning, these scientists delivered finest quality science education with poise and good humor.  

Some of these scientists have been with us since the first HandsOn school in India in 2008.  For others, Buea was their first HandsOn experience.  Whether they were veterans or novices, Catbird and my physicist absolutely trusted and depended on these people.  

When Catbird and my physicist faltered under the stress of ongoing budget crises and sleep deprivation, and our tempers frayed, these folks buoyed us with their camaraderie, stepped up to take on additional tasks, and proved themselves repeatedly as professionals and as friends. 

Ah, so, back to the question Catbird had asked them: what do you  most look forward to in going home?  As expected, top answers included leaving behind the hairy mildews of Cameroon's rainy season and returning to dry clothes, dry shoes, dry bedding.  DEET-free skin was mentioned.  As with most travelers anywhere, the return to routine diet (especially salads which we carefully avoided on the road) and one's own bed were mentioned several times over, as well as the ability to brush teeth with tap water and shower with one's mouth open. One young scientist described how his wife has taken a job in another state while he will stay to  finish his graduate work, and he wanted to get back to spend as much time with her as possible before she moves...sigh.  

Catbird was continually humbled by these people.  Her own longings for home were more sybaritic: a soak in her own deep bathtub, a plate of cheese from Antonelli's cheese shop (http://www.antonellischeese.com/), and return to a sense of social order that includes punctuality, transparent  banking, honoring one's commitments, traffic flowing in agreed upon directions, etc.

Layover, Charles de Gaulle Airport, returning home

***
So now HandsOn School in Buea is over.  The 45 participants have dispersed to their 17 home countries.  The scientists have returned to their home labs and academic responsibilities.  Catbird has soaked in her tub, slept in her clean dry fresh-smelling sheets, eaten Fourme d'Ambert cheese and driven down Lamar with the assurance that most other drivers will obey the rules of the road.  Her hair is clean, her skin no longer reeks of DEET.  And she hasn't had to cram twice daily with 32 other people onto a bus more appropriately scaled for 14.  

And, surprisingly, Catbird feels a sense of let down, of loss.    

She isn't depressed exactly; she is too happy to be home for that.  But Catbird does miss being around such superior quality people and hopes they all return for the next school. 

In 2012. 
In Shanghai.  

   

 

It looks like a deadly nerve gas was released in Charles de Gaulle Airport,

but really it's just exhausted scientists waiting for their next flights.

 

Stress

"Stress is the unavoidable by-product of caring deeply about something or someone."  Oy, jeese.  Catbird must care an awful lot about Hands-On Research School, Cameroon, because her stress level is higher than Mount Cameroon itself, whose peak we did finally see briefly one morning this week.  Did we mention it is the rainy season?

Mt. Cameroon from University of Buea

Gray hairy mildew inside and and air pollution outside.  Catbird's freshly washed pajamas went sour on the clothesline outside our room.  Twice.  Catbird conceded defeat and threw them in the dirty laundry pile.  Likely there will be discards when we arrive home.  Fellow Physicist next door showed me his canvas fanny pack--completely haired over. Just like the wall behind Catbird's nightstand.

Catbird did make an excellent choice in ditching the comfortable walking shoes (can't wait to get back to them) for her clunkier but waterproof hiking shoes. Even waterproof boots won't help you when the rain pours in from above,though, so there is a pair of socks in the office windowsill, hopeful for enough air and sun to prevent fungal slime.

Birds enjoying the rain

Campus is actually quite pretty but spread out, and this is not a litigious society, so Catbird's daily walk to the auditorium, meals, etc. includes leaping over several drainage ditches and slogging through running water and mud as often as not.  This morning Catbird found herself skating across an algae slick on the smooth concrete and counts herself lucky to have remained upright.  Catbird is well aware there may be a patch of wet concrete out there just waiting for her ass and elbow to land.

Daily path from Catbird's office to auditorium

One of the labs here at the Hands-On School studies human locomotion.  To enhance the data collected, they have asked some of the local folk walking by with trays of peanuts or bundles of yucca on their heads to come in and walk across the sensor.  Since many people farm the back acreage of the campus, there is a daily parade of workers skilled in the art of balancing loads.  Our first recruit was a young woman who brings her roasted peanuts to sell every day in front of the labs; she was quite shy and not a little intimidated by the process, but she was also game and did very well.

The flatworm lab is new this year and very exciting.  The young woman who runs the lab is really a great speaker and teacher and is passionate about her worms.  We surely hope we can recruit her again next year for HandsOn Shanghai.  My Physicist says she is a rising star and we expect great things from her.  Of course, that is true of most of the lab leaders here. 

It was a major battle to get campus to unlock the bathrooms in the labs and here in the Administration building where Catbird works, the staff refused.  ("That's not how we do it here.") Catbird was provided a key, which bent like playdough when she tried to use it, so she hikes three buildings over to the lab wc. This can take careful planning on Catbird's part.    

 

There has been no running water on campus this week.  Rain barrels collect roof run-off and then those barrels get dragged into the bathrooms where one is provided with a bucket to scoop it into the used toilet.  Catbird suggested the best thing we might do for the University of Buea is to send them a plumber.  FPs pointed out that the absence of materials such as PVC pipe might render the plumber moot, and Catbird concedes the point.  As a second choice, we use a lot of handwipes and their ilk.  Too bad we didn't bring more.

Our first evening with our lab leaders, one tripped and cut his foot.  We used a good bit of our liquid hand sanitizer just getting the foot clean enough to examine.  After we disinfected and dressed the wound, Catbird requested a driver to take her to the nearest pharmacy to replenish her supplies.  At three (count them:THREE) pharmacies, we were told NO hand wipes, NO hand sanitizer, NO peroxide, NO alcohol.    We now consider it liquid gold and measure it out by drops.

(Catbird has tried to post this many times and hope for the best this time.  Cannot preview so forgive the rough edges.)

buea

The prevailing odor is a hybrid: diesel exhaust, cook fire smoke, massive mildew, mothballs, body odor and  unidentifiable spices, all in fluctuating proportion. Catbird understands why, though.  Rattly old cars, thermal inversion, poverty, rainy season, and cold water hauled from a community spigot in a big plastic antifreeze container in the foothills of Mount Cameroon.

The ultra-quick-dry-fabric pants and blouse Catbird rinsed on Tuesday night are still not dry on Thursday night.   And the cold shower that first night (though we've had plenty of hot since) increase her compassion for hygiene challenges.

Actually, once she got past her middle-American conditioning for deodorant and scented shampoos, Catbird realized that much body odor is just that: natural odor of the body.  Consider the sweet, salty smell of a clean horse barn.  Catbird loves this smell from her youth and most of what she's getting more like that. Sure a few street people bring tears to the eyes, but that just reminds her of the drag in Austin.

Human odor is not so much offensive as it is foreign to Catbird's experience.   Catbird herself is not likely to go native any time soon--at least not as long as her clothes and the hot water at the Residence Hotel hold out. But she is developing a tolerance.

 Catbird may smell okay but she is the most under-dressed woman on campus.  Even the women cleaning out the drain culverts by the side of the road with their little bundles of sticks are wearing bright colors, big earrings; most are wearing skirts and blouses.  Catbird brought some nice things to wear, but this relentless rain, rain, rain and subsequent mud (it does remind one of Indiana spring--without the peonies and fried green tomatoes) have kept her in baggy quick-dry fabric travel slacks and waterproof hiking shoes.  Can you say frumpy?  Catbird can say comfortable.

When school starts on Sunday, though, Catbird will put on big earrings, her new black skirt, a bright blouse and sandals.  And will pray her feet don't go out from under her.  On campus, even the best walkways are mossy and slick, and today all are generously puddled.

The University of Buea campus has sweeping grounds between buildings so there is plenty of walking to do.  The campus sets back from the road and has lovely flora and fauna which make this place an oasis.  The rest of Buea is one long road up the mountain with shops and shacks and stalls leaning shoulder to shoulder and pushed right up against the edge of the pavement.  Trash and construction debris and chickens and children and food grilled on oil drums and pedestrians crossing and hailing rides make it colorful and chaotic.   And a little intimidating.

Catbird really had no idea she was such a Victorian prude about civilization until landing in Cameroon.  There are no words for the smack in the face of chaos that is the Douala airport.   Catbird can only say she came away with a very powerful understanding of how much she values the order of her own culture, no matter how schizophrenic it may be.  The beauty of signs explaining purpose!  Public facilities designed with at least some understanding of egress, entrance and traffic patterns!  Oh, and a nod to the layout that serves the function of the space.  Even (and it pains Catbird to admit this) the wonder and glory of security personnel who help keep things in order.  The accepted, though occasionally bucked, tradition of waiting in line...ah.  It's the little things that bring it home.  

Tonight 18 dewy-eyed fellow facilitators for the school arrive at Douala Airport.  Catbird is waiting up for them though they won't arrive until midnight.  They might be whiffy from their travels, but Catbird won't mind.  We'll be like war buddies.

 

Anticipation

Between one trip and another, the gratitude for home is laced with wakefulness at 3 a.m.  Sometimes this is due to jetlag.  Sometimes anxiety.  Often both.

My physicist finds travel exhilarating and usually refreshing.  Catbird on the other hand, finds it stressful and tiring.  Especially in the planning stages.  What will the universe throw our way?  How do we prepare for it?  Do we have everything we need? These questions challenge Catbird's ongoing efforts to BE HERE NOW.  

Daily meditation/centering prayer are peppered with little reminders of things Catbird means to do, needs to do, must not forget to do, in anticipation of the next trip.  Catbird has grudgingly accepted a to-do list next to her bed so that when these travel-worthy ideas assault the quiet of centering breath--and refuse to go away--she writes them down.  Duly acknowledged, they tend to quiet down.   Then she begins the breath count again.   (This is a page out of her parenting experience: Catbird learned early that those little voices will shrill down once they know they've been heard.) 

Last week, Catbird dreamed she had hurt her father's feelings by selecting the wrong sized cane.   Since Dad has been dead for almost three years, Catbird spent some time trying to decode this message from her deep psyche.  Finally she just chalked it up to free-floating anxiety.

Despite the amount of preparation required for the next trip, and the amount of anxiety attached to it, we've been maintaining a pretty rigorous schedule of physical activity.   Sweat and an accelerated heart rate are the tools Catbird  has since giving up mood altering substances back in '87. 

There doesn't seem to be enough physical activity to create a haven of rest against the worries about the next trip, though.  In Buea, Cameroon, my physicist and his chums will deliver the 3rd Hands-On Research School in Complex Systems.  http://handsonresearch.org/index.html  Since this is not our first Hand-On School, and this is not our first trip to Cameroon, one might think we'd know what to expect and that is somewhat true.  It is also true, however, that what we expect is that this one will be hard.  Catbird doesn't want to even think about those details now, so they will be fodder for another blog.  

Meanwhile, it is time to sit comfortably, close her eyes, breathe in to the count of 8...out to the count of 16...in to the count of 10...out to the count of 20...Yikes, where are the vaccination cards?

Re-Entry

Catbird had the not-at-all unusual experience one morning this week of waking to ask myself: where am I today?  What pleasure to find I was home, Auntie 'Em, home, home, home.