Nairobi

When I was visiting Kenyatta University I was around thirty kilometers outside of Nairobi. It was a little annoying (although I suspect also endearing) that the folks at Kenyatta did not want me to leave the campus for fear that I would get into trouble. However, because they were running a new fibre topic line the internet was completely messed up and I needed to get online so it didn't take long for me to ignore the warning and take off in search for an internet cafe. Later on Saturday, the day I arrived, I went walking down Thika Road back towards Nairobi because I heard there was an internet cafe down this dirt road. Suddenly the woman who ran the conference centre drove up with her daughter and scolded me (gently) for leaving. She had me get in her car and drove me to the internet cafe, which was actually located down a dirt road past a series of ramshackle tin roof shack stores. She volunteered to wait outside until I was finished. I told her that I was a big man and was OK. She smiled and replied, "Yes, but there is always someone bigger." I suspect their biggest concern was with pickpockets, which, to be fair, we have plenty of in the U.S. Anyway, she drove off and I then found out that the internet cafe had no connection so I had to walk back to campus with my tail between my legs.

However, I was not deterred. The next day Mungai, the head of the ICT department at the university (and a great guy) volunteered to drop me off in downtown Nairobi because he was passing through. He also gave me strict instructions on where I could walk - "Do not go beyond Moi Avenue on that side and do not go beyond Uhuru Highway on that side, and stay out of Uhuru Park." We then got into a big discussion about what taxis I could take back and if it would be advisable for me to take a matatu (the private vans that people use for getting around - they just wait until they fill up and then they take off like a bat out of hell - crazy, but cheap - a taxi from Nairobi out to Kenyatta would have been 1200 shillings while a matatu would have been 50 shillings). Finally, he just decided to pick me up on the way back through town, over my objections - and we agreed to meet in front of the Intercontinental Hotel in two and a half hours (although he said that was "Africa time" so it could be later, and after saying that he showed up right to the second). So, I actually had some time to walk around downtown by myself. Nairobi is a city of five million people, although it doesn't feel that big (at least on a Sunday - Nairobi traffic is insane and if you're caught in a Nairobi traffic jam it seems like the city has ten million). It ended up being a lovely walk although I was hit up on by half the grifters in Nairobi. My favorite was a guy by the name of John who tried to justify that he was not a grifter by carrying around a loaf of bread, as if he had just been shopping and ran into you. He worked me for an hour as we walked through downtown, just as an interested party, until he hit me up for a request for 3000 shillings to help bribe his son's tutor - he got 100 out of me because it had been an interesting conversation. When I shooed another one away later I was acused of being prejudiced. I ended up in Uhuru Park despite the warning and it was actually very lovely with a gazebo and lakes and food and it was packed. Eventually I moved to the back of the park and got in the middle of a religious revival meeting - it was all is Kiswahili, with the occasional "praise Jesus" thrown in for effect. Mungai showed up right on time and we went in search of a good cup of coffee and ended up at this insanely nice mall (complete with a water slide) next to the U.S. Embassy where we both had cafe mochas. An odd ending to a wonderfully odd day.

Reflections on Things at Hand: Women in Jordan

OK, just a couple quick anecdotes from my last day in Jordan (which seems like around three weeks ago). We've talked before about the unique position of women in Jordan, a mixture of western and traditional. These two things happened to me on my last day there before boarding a plane for Dubai - neither profound, but nevertheless somewhat enlightening.

First off, I had a meeting scheduled with a woman professor from the University of Jordan. We were to be joined by another female professor and then drive for a meet and greet at a nearby private university. The other professor had to drop out at the last minute, leaving the two of us to drive over together. The professor in question is this brilliant scholar with two Ph.D.s. She is in her 50's and dresses in traditional Jordanian attire. As she was firing up the car she was clearly nervous, and I asked her if everything was OK. She asked me what I knew about Jordanian society, to which I replied that some folks might not approve of the two of us being in the car alone together, especially with her driving, and I volunteered to call off the trip. Instead, she simply said, "No, it's a silly rule and silly rules only have power if you let them have power," and she took off. We ended up having a great trip but the whole time I wondered if that was the first time she had ever driven another man alone in a car.

Secondly, I was walking from one meeting to another at the UJ campus on my last day when I walked by a group of four young women in traditional Jordanian wear. One of them was staring at me (think of an Arabic Ricki Lake pre-procedure). As I passed she smiled and said, "very very beautiful." I put my hand to my chest and said shukran (thank you). She immediately blushed beet red and her friends started cackling. Society in Jordan is so much more comlicated than it seems on the surface, especially to a western viewer.

Africa

I've since left Jordan, blown through the United Arab Emirates, and am now at my second stop in Kenya. Sorry I've been so quiet - it's a combination of being really busy and also struggling with amazingly bad internet connectivity in Kenya. Guess I'll have to get caught up in bits and pieces. Right now I'm in Eldoret, Kenya, home of Moi University. I'm staying in the Eldoret equivalent of a luxury hotel ($40 a night, and for that I still get lousy internet connection, but it's the only hotel in town with even this - two computers in the lobby, one of which is continually in the hands of two Korean girls playing video games). My Kenyan contact was horrified that I was planning on spending this much a night - he had me reserved in a local place, pefectly clean and centrally located, although in a seedy part of town, for $10 a night. Before this I spent four days visiting Kenyatta University, which is right outside of Nairobi. I was one of two people staying at their brand new conference centre. The other was an Englishman named Peter who is a vegan, and the staff just didn't know what to make of him. On my last night there a couple professors took me to the Safari Park Club to eat and see the floor show. The floor show consisted of a bunch of dancers in "native" outfits doing dances to show tunes, not exactly what I was looking for. You sat at big tables and the waiters came around with massive slabs of beef on swords and they would cut pieces off right on to our plate. I had chicken, beef, pork, lamb - along with goat, camel, ostrich and crocodile. I ate until I hurt - now that the Kenyans understood.

Touring Jordan

OK, this is not a particularly accurate title because I've been too busy on this trip to do much sight-seeing. That said, if you come to Jordan, and you should definitely come to Jordan - in fact, I would love to bring some students over here on a cultural immersion trip - there are a million things to do. Amman itself is great, with loads of history (the Citadel is located right downtown, next to the Roman theatre, and it has been occupied over the centuries by Romans, Byzantines and Umayyads) as well as stores so modern you would think you were in Paris. Jerash provides some of the best preserved Roman ruins in the world. Umm Qais also has great Roman ruins, and is not nearly as crowded as Jerash because it is tucked away in the northwest corner of Jordan, but is also the location where Jesus is supposed to have driven the evil spirits out of the possessed man and put it in a herd of swing that jumped off a cliff - surprisingly, when I went there a couple years ago I felt fine. The Dead Sea is OK, mainly for the experience of floating in it, although it's way too pricey for my blood - it is a neat place to watch the sun go down over the mountains in Israel, partially because it looks strangely like the sun going down over the New York mountains as seen from Burlington. You can go to Bethany Over Jordan where it is believed, at least by the Jordanian tourist industry, that Jesus was baptized. You can also go to Madaba to look at more mosaics than you could probably stand, and get a shave if you want for on dinar. The desert castle at Azraq is great, especially if you're up on your Lawrence of Arabia lore. I had my ultimate nerd moment there, which is saying something because my life is one long unbroken string of nerd moments. On my first trip to Jordan I was reading Lawrence's Seven Pillars while riding around on the bus with a dozen others professors on a grant to study Middle Eastern culture. When we stopped in Azraq I read, aloud, to the other professors, Lawrence's account of the room he stayed in at Azraq in the very room - including his account of ghosts - in any other line of work I would have been beaten to a pulp, but the other professors were delighted. I had a really profound moment at Mukawir, which was a Jewish fortress on a hill that was eventually taken over by the Romans. It was where Salome danced and John the Baptist had his head chopped off. I was standing up there next to Roman columns while the sun was going down, and the lights of Jerusalem were starting to twinkle, and the Islamic call to prayer started at two different mosques on neighboring hills. It was really emotional. So, a million things to do, although that really wasn't an option this time.

The one huge exception this time was a return trip to Petra. It was a Saturday so university meetings were out of the question. It's about a three hour drive from Amman to Petra if you take the more boring modern road, as compared to around five hours if you take the king's highway. It only took about two and a half hours because the taxi driver was going around 160 kph, which, if you convert kph to mph, converts to really fast. When you think of Petra the first thought for most Americans is the end of the third Indiana Jones movie (and, actually, there is a little gift shop right at the entrance called the Indiana Jones Gift Shop). Certainly, travelling through the Siq and coming out to the Treasury is one of the most amazing moments that you'll ever experience. However, that is just the beginning - Petra is huge. You can walk around for seven or eight hours and still just be scratching the surface. At the end of the day you can walk up the 850 steps to the Monastery at the top of the mountain, which is even bigger than the Treasury. If you go a little further you come to the shop at the end of the world - these merchants carry their wares up to the edge of the cliff overlooking the Wadi Arabia, and it's almost a contest to who can come closest to the edge. Many of the merchants actually still live in the caves of Petra. There is also a massive temple in the center of Petra and endless Nabatean tombs. This time for the first time I climbed up to the High Place of Sacrifice which is on a different cliff. Exhausting, but absolutely amazing. Petra is one of those places that you see and then you can't quite convince yourself that you were there. At the end of the day I got the money shot - a Bdul riding a camel on a Roman road with Nabatean tombs in the background.

Real World Amman

ACOR really is a rather odd, albeit cool, place. There are more students around here this trip than there normally are, which gives the place a different feel. Several students are here taking intensive Arabic courses at the language center at the University of Jordan. They're all nice kids, although I was in the kitchen last night heating up leftovers when an episode occured that had sort of a MTV Real World Amman feel to it. One female student was talking to two male students and it turned into a major dish the dirt fest on another one of the female students - it was priceless. Apparently, as a forty-seven year old man, I was invisible anyway so they just went on talking as if I were not there. I was half expecting to see them later on being interviewed separately by the film crews as they talked about their deepest feelings while crying. Later on I was down in the computer lab working when the disher was coming to say goodbye to the dishee and it was full of "luv ya babes", etc. Pretty funny, all things considered.

Shuttle Diplomacy

Someday, I suppose, Champlain and the Global Modules network will be famous and we'll just be able to alert people when we're rolling into town and they will arrange their schedule to fit ours. Let me wildly paraphrase Uncle Tupelo and say that if there will be a time, that time's not now. Everyone is very nice and, once they've had a chance to really think about the GM approach, they usually become very big supporters. Still, we're a small school pitching a new educational paradigm so we have to work around everybody else's schedule at this point. Since I've landed in Amman I've had multiple meetings at the University of Jordan on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, today (Sunday) and will again on Tuesday. The only days that there were no meetings scheduled were on Friday and Saturday (weekend days) and Monday (I'll be down at the Dead Sea presenting at the LINC Conference, which will probably mean meetings, although of the more unofficial kind - as Michelle Miller always says, "heaven forbid you end up next to Scudder in a buffet line at a conference because you will hear about the Global Modules"). The meetings might be Powerpoint presentations to entire divisions or discussions with university presidents or planning meetings with professors where we actually sit down and discuss possible themes and readings or question/answer sessions with students. On Thursday I had a 9:00 a.m. meeting with a dean at Princess Sumaya University, an 10:00 planning meeting with an English professor at UJ, a meeting with a different dean back at Princess Sumaya at 12:00, and then another planning meeting with a different English professor back at UJ at 1:00. Luckily it is only around a twenty minute walk between the two schools.

Working Out in Amman

Finding a place to work out is usually quite a challenge. However, it's never been much of a problem in Amman. Whenever I'm in town I get a six-visit membership at the Madina Gym (it's embarrassing/resassuring when you're already in the gym's computer system). It is a short taxi ride from ACOR - just go down to the next roundabout (something Vermonters understand) and take a left - it's only a few miles and costs about a dollar. Taxis are easy to find, with the exception of Thursday nights when they are almost impossible to find. A couple times on Thursday nights I've had to walk the entire way to the gym, which at least got me out of doing cardio. You just tell the taxi drivers Madina or Sports City or do a pantomime of bicep curls or just point straight ahead and direct them with whirling hand motions when you get to the roundabout. The gym looks like any fitness center in the west and during peak time plays the same music - I heard a lot of Eminem and that song "I got 99 problems, but . . ." a lot. However, if you go in the morning you get the Arabic equivalent of easy listening.

UJ

My main mission in Amman is to continue a dialogue I started a couple years ago with the University of Jordan (although I'm talking to other Jordanian universities as well). UJ is huge. It has around 40,000 students and has almost a large midwestern university feel to it. The picture is of the clocktower in the center of campus, which is where you always agree to meet people before going on to another location for a meeting. Someone over there told me that something like 60% of all Jordanian university students attend the University of Jordan. I think there are a couple small dorms for women across the street from the campus, but beyond that itis completely commuter (which is really much more common around the world than the US residential college model). The diversity of the student body is fascinating, especially in regards to the dress of the female students. You will see many women dressed in a very conservative style with only the eyes showing (even down to wearing gloves), others dressed in a completely western style, and many somewhere in between.

The size of the place provides unique challenges and opportunities. With a university this big Champlain would only need a tiny sliver of their courses to more than take care of all of our Global Module pairings, although, obviously we want far more variety than that. However, it's also a greater challenge to find a way to tackle a school that big, as compared to the simplicity of talking to a small university. In the case of UJ it was partially a case of simply showing up again and again until they realized that I wouldn't take no for an answer (I'm like the devil from that horrible mini-series Storm of the Century - "give me want I want and I'll go away"). Sometimes I think we forget in the US what an email, faceless society we are. In most of the rest of the world it is almost an insult to simply email back and forth, especially when starting a partnership - instead, it is more customary and preferred for you to show up and do the ceremonial dance of sharing tea or coffee (I don't know how my bladder is going to survive, I have to have another cup at every meeting, hour after hour). One of the reasons why I've suddenly made such great strides is that 1) there is no suddenly about it, these are relationships I've been forged for years, and 2) Champlain has given me the resources to visit these places and talk to folks face to face and thus I can build trust. The other key to the recent success at the University of Jordan is finding the "right" department and the "right" individuals. We've found a home in the Division of Arts, and especially in the English Department. Dr. Ahmad Majdoubeh, the Dean of Arts, is a very big supporter. Inside of English we have great supporters such as Rula Quawas, Inas Ababneh and Lazaward Sughayer. Rula is currently running her third GM, Inas is running her first, and Lazaward is planning her first for the spring semester. In addition, they are very active in bringing in other faculty members. To be successful with every new university you always need a Rula. She is a ball of fire and just walks up and down the hall stopping by every office to talk to everyone administrator, professor and student. She is like a force of nature and she's been essential for the progress we've made here and I look for a new Rula at every institution. I think we could almost fill half of our COR 120 sections with GM links just from the Arts division here at UJ, although, again, I'll almost certainly try and bring in more universities to create even greater diversity in the discussion. We also have to keep in mind that we'll be expanding the GMs into second year courses like Spirituality & Belief and Capitalism & Democracy, which would also be great fits for Global Modules, so I'm also laying the groundwork for future classes as well.

Hamdil'allah Hamdil'allah

My luggage showed up my second full day here around noon, which meant that I only had to do a couple days worth of presentations in the same jeans and shirt that I travelled in. The other day a photographer came in to take pictures of me while I was running a powerpoint presentation and he was dressed much better than I was. I get hit hard by lost luggage because it's hard for me to stow away clothes as a carry-on because I already have two carry-ons I can't live without - my laptop computer and my CPAP machine (I have profound sleep apnea, so having the machine lost if I bury it in my suitcase in just not an option). Of course, carrying the CPAP is it's own little joy because the machine itself is about the size of a toaster with all sorts of wires and hoses coming out of it and even I think it looks like a bomb. So, anyway, for the moment life is good - clean clothes, toiletries, notes and books - hamdil'allah hamdil'allah (thanks be to god)!

The House on the Hill

This is my fourth trip to Jordan, and the fourth time that I've stayed at ACOR, the American Center of Oriental Research. ACOR is a big white stone building (like every other building in Amman) on a hill across the street from the University of Jordan (it's about a ten minute walk downhill to UJ, although a steep climb back up the hill). It's run with US government money and with private donations and it's established to give travelling American professors and students an inexpensive, safe place to stay when they're in the region doing research. It's $30 a night, room and board. Well, the board is really only a big lunch, which is almost always "comfort food" and not some exotic Middle Eastern delicacy. Yesterday we had fried chicken and today we had meat loaf. You cook your own breakfast (or pour a bowl from these seemingly self-perpetuating boxes of cereal that look suspiciously like the ones that were here on my first visit in late December 04, although they never run out). Supper is leftovers from lunch. It has a great library and some real archaeological treasures squirreled away down in the basement. You meet the most amazing people just sitting around chatting over lunch - folks that are out digging at Petra or finishing their tenth book or even lunatic Vermont professors pedalling an international online network. It's like the big nerd dorm on campus. Everyone is extraordinarily friendly and there is a real collegial atmosphere here. I remember on my first visit here I cajoled a bunch of professors to get up at 3:00 in the morning so that we could watch the college football national championship game broadcast live. People are always around if you want to go out to a restaurant or grab some ice cream or just sit around and talk about just about anything. They also have a great collection of DVDs that visiting professors have burned over the years and left as parting gifts so there is always something to watch on TV. It's in a nice neighborhood where you can walk up the hill and see some nice houses and a mosque or down the hill to find shops and restaurants. There is always a guard with a machine gun in front of the place, but I suspect that is simply because of the US connection. I've always felt completely safe both in ACOR and in Amman. I walk all over the place or jump in taxis and go all over the city and have always been treated warmly by everyone I've ever met here in Amman. ACOR itself has sort of become my home away from home.

Amman

OK, I'm back in Amman, Jordan for the fourth time (which is not something I ever thought I'd find myself saying a few years ago). I arrived last night a little after midnight, but the evening quickly became a late one because my suitcase (much like Tom Bombadil from The Lord of the Rings) irresponsibily wandered off. That left me to fill out forms and hope against hope that it eventually shows up - not only because all my clothes are in it, but also the medicine I need for the upcoming Africa part of the trip. Groan. I just hope this isn't a repeat of the Morocco fiasco where my suitcase was gone for five days. So far giving major presentations in jeans hasn't caused any harm, but it's not something I enjoy doing. I think the professors here view me wearing jeans as a charming peculiarity of American professors, although I go way out of my way to explain what happened and apologize for being so informal. I'm in the middle of a number of meetings set up at the University of Jordan, which is across the street from where I'm staying. I've been showing up here at UJ year after year and I think I've just worn them down. The English department here are huge supporters of the Global Module approach and are thinking ways to expand it to other programs as well.

Pazmany Peter Catholic University

The process of finding new GM partners is an odd one. There is a lot of thought that goes into picking out countries and universities, but some of it is just a process of adapting on the fly. A few days before taking off on the last trip I almost cancelled the Hungarian leg of the trip because I didn't think it made sense as I was balancing out the cost of the trip and the reaction I was getting from a couple Hungarian universities. I actually contacted my travel agent about just flying back early, but in the space of a couple hours I heard what it would cost to change the flight, and found a cheap hotel, and received a couple very hopeful emails. As it turns out the Hungarian leg of the journey ended up being remarkably productive and Hungary may end up being a foundation of the expanding network. I've already talked about one of the universities, Corvinus.

The other Hungarian university is Pazmany Peter Catholic University. You take a pleasant forty-five minute train ride out of Budapest to the village of Piliscsaba. Finding the right train station can be a bit iffy in Hungary because they don't spend a lot of money on signage. Instead of a series of signs that run parallel to the tracks, you often only have one sign that is facing towards the front of the train (so it benefits you to sit up in the front of the train). I kept getting out of the train at each stop to see if I could spot the sign. Luckily, the stop for the university, Pazmaneum, was very well marked and had a quaint little station, which you walked through and right into the university itself. The university is a smallish school, about the sign of Champlain itself, with a very strong liberal arts tradition. I had a series of great meetings with Marton Beke from the international program, Gyorgy Domokos, the Vice-Dean for Foreign Affairs, Kathleen Dubs from the English department, and Karoly Kopasz, a student who works with Marton Beke. Kathleen Dubs had some wonderful ideas for Global Module themes, including using portions of Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings for a Global Module focused on perceptions of "the other." Karoly Kopasz was tremendously excited about the project and was checking out the new GM website while we were having the meeting. He couldn't wait for me to get back to the states to get the official OK so that he could get other students at the university to post on the general discussion forum.

The Glamorous Life

At every new stop one of the first chores is to find Internet access. It might be at the hotel, but it might not be. Some of the Internet cafes are really nice, and others are a bit iffy. I remember sitting in an Internet cafe in Aurangabad, India taking care of staffing issues and, with the exception of the electricity in the city giving out every twenty minutes or so, the system worked pretty well. There was a great Internet cafe (albeit a bit too expensive for my blood) right around the corner from the Hotel Wandl in Vienna - the great advantage was that you could get a melange brought to your little table while typing away. I spent six hours propped up in front of a big window in an Internet cafe in Madrid, which provided a great location for taking care of business and also watching the world go by. In Budapest I was staying at the Mercure Budapest Buda, which was cheap as long as you didn't get wifi (or eat breakfast). They essentially wanted $10 an hour for wifi or a special deal of around $40 a day. Instead, I went across the street to a little Internet cafe, although calling it a cafe probably does disservice to the work cafe. That said, Internet access there was only around $1.50 an hour. You went up the stairs past the Lego store and took a sharp left. There was a round table with computers, which half the time was in complete darkness. While all of the computers worked, only one worked really well (it's the one on the right in the picture - I still have very fond memories of that computer).

Bizarre

There are many reasons to visit Castle Hill in Budapest. Rising above Budapest on the Buda side of the Danube is Castle Hill, which is the old historic center of the city. There are several museums, including the National Gallery. There is St. Mattias Cathedral, which is beautiful. There are narrow cobblestone streets, shop and restaurants. There is also one of the odder places I have ever visited - the Labrynth. It is a little hard to find, although there are some signs. It is on Uri Street and it is very easy to walk by it without even noticing it - in fact, it looks like the entrance to a basement cafe. The Labrynth is, on one level, what the name suggests - the old series of caves that run under the Castle Hill. I thought I would check it out because it sounded sort of like the Catacombs in Paris, which I love. However, this is very different. A lot of folks over the years have used the Labrynth, from various Hungarian rulers to the Soviets, so I suspected it would be heavy on the history. Actually, there is none of that. There is no guided tour at all. You just walk down into the darkness by yourself. There are sound effects, ranging from heart beats to rhythmic drums, but very little lights - only the occasional candle or dim bulb. It's as if the entire Labrynth was given over to a mad art school student with a budget. There are human like figurines that wait in the dark for you. I actually just about scared an old woman to death. I was kneeling down at the base of a staircase trying to get a picture of some very spooky crosses placed on the stairs when I suddenly stood up - the old woman next to me screamed because she thought I was one of the figurines. In one of the last rooms there is a giant head half-"buried" in the rock. There is also a fountain with red wine flowing, although it looks like blood. I don't know if I learned anything, but it was definitely entertaining.

Corvinus University

OK, sorry to keep hopping back and forth between Austria and Hungary (I feel like a Habsburg emperor), but now that I have finally figured out how to post on this one computer - and before I start the trip home tomorrow and things truly get crazy - let me try and get caught up a little. The first university that I visit in Budapest was Corvinus University. It has a long and storied and wandering history. For a long time, under communist rule, it was renamed Karl Marx University (and, as you can see above) there is still a statue of Marx in the main part of the building. There is also a small, wall-mounted plaque honoring Imre Nagy on the far opposite wall, but it has now been obscured by a tree that has been moved in front of it (and, if you know anything at all about Hungarian history it all makes sense). The very fact that I was buying Corvinus University t-shirts for my son in the former Karl Marx University is about as obvious an indication of the victory (at least for now) of the capitalist world over the communist/socialist one. The building itself is very historic. It is located right on the Danube, on the Pest side, and it used to be the old customs house. There used to be a train track that ran right through the middle of the building (where Marx is sitting now). After the fall of the Soviet Union it was named Corvinus in honor of a scholarly Hungarian king of the fifteenth century (a golden age in Hungarian history).

Corvinus is very excited about the Global Modules project, especially in the economics, business and history departments. We should have at least a couple GMs up and running with them in the Concepts of Community classes this coming spring semester. I think they are so excited about the project because of Hungary's own struggle to join the EU and to fashion a more lasting connection with the rest of the world. In one of the many meetings I had with faculty members and administrators, I also had the chance to sit down with some doctoral students in economics, and I think they were the most excited of anyone. They were suggesting GM themes during the meeting and started emailing me more ideas before I had made it back to my hotel.

St. Stephens

And on a happier note, let me see if I can post a few pictures of St. Stephens, the massive cathedral in Vienna that sits on Stephensplatz. It is only a couple blocks away from the Hotel Wandl, which makes it very easy to visit at the end of a day of meetings - it is also right off the metro line. You can also go to the roof (although I kept missing out this time by routinely getting there five minutes too late). There are a lot of restaurants and shops in the neighborhood, and it is about a three block walk to the Hofburg, so it is a natural spot to visit in Vienna.

Oh, and I am able to post these pictures because I found the one computer at the little local internet cafe that I frequent that actually will allow me to do so.

Terror Haza

If you ever visit Budapest (and you should definitely visit Budapest) be sure to travel out to 60 Andrally Ut to visit the Terror House. Andrally Ut itself is a lovely, wide tree-lined bouelevard with a vague Parisian feel about it. If you walk the distance of it, from the city center out to the monuments and the park, you will get a sense of the city's former grandeur, its decades of decay, and its current efforts at resurgence. The Terror House is dedicated to the Nazi occupation of Hungary in 1944 and especially the decades of Soviet domination. The location itself, 60 Andrally, has special significance because it was the actual headquarters of the Soviet secret police. It is a very spooky place, with pictures on the wall of every person who died there during the decades of Soviet control. In every room there are those heavy black rotary phones that used to be the norm - if you pick one up it will tell you the story of the room. The phone messages are in Hungarian, but the rest of the museum is fairly English friendly, including handouts in most every room and some of the films subtitled in English. There are a couple rooms I don't think I will ever forget. In one of the rooms, which was lined with the actual case files of prisoners, they were showing a Soviet documentary of the trial of Imre Nagy after the aborted Hungarian uprising of 1956. Sitting there in that room, watching that film, with a few very old Hungarians, some with almost ashen faces as they viewed the documentary, was staggering. When you get on the elevator that takes you from the second floor down to the basement, the lights suddenly go out and a film starts playing on the back wall of the glass elevator. It is a man talking about the process for executing prisoners. While you watch this you can see the pictures of the dead on the far outside walls and a huge Russian tank in the lobby. In the basement there are the actual, reconstructed prison cells, along with the pictures of people who actually died in the rooms. Devastating, but also something not to be missed.

Villach

Last week I travelled from Vienna to Villach, in southern Austria, and back again, to present at the ICL Conference there. The train ride down was very pleasant, although it started out with the frustration of missing the direct train to Villach by around forty seconds. That meant that on the next train, about an hour later, it was necessary to switch trains twice, first at Mar an der Bruck and then at Freisch. It was easy to to, although it also precluded taking cat naps for fear that I would sleep through the station where I was switching. The other problem was that because of the mad rush I did not have any food with me and the stop at stations was too brief to grab anything - my one attempt left me jumping back onto the train, after unsuccessfully trying to buy something, just as the train was leaving. The other problem was that the first train of the day had a cafeteria car but I did not make it down there, foolishly thinking that the others would have a cafeteria car and I would catch up later. As it turns out I had a direct trip on the way back and had the glorious opportunity to eat at the cafeteria car . . . well, it was not quite the same experience Cary Grant had in North by Northwest. The food was pretty institutional, although the experience alone made it worthwhile. The waiter told me that there were only two choice, the specials, and he waved off my first choice (although I saw it go by on a plate about ten minutes later). The one big advantage to the direct ride back was that I could grab a few naps. The train ride was around five hours both ways and it was absolutely beautiful. You can take a plane down to Klagenfurt (about twenty minutes away from Villach, although even that is a little confusing), but I would definitely take the train.

The conference itself was pretty good, although also pretty technical (of course, everything seems pretty technical to me). The Global Module approach was very well received. The moderator, a Greek professor, who had critiqued the first two presenters, actively supported what we're doing at Champlain. When someone from the audience raised the issue of the discussion being carried out in English, the moderator even went so far as to point out that the conference would not even have been held without the existence of English as a common language. The support was nice. Part of expanding the GM network is getting out to international audiences and spreading the good word. Villach is a lovely little provincial town with a river running through the middle of it. There is a lovely little cathedral, St. Jakob's, and you can climb up to the top of the tower (think the closing scene of Vertigo - I am full of Hitchcock references today). There were also more representations of soldiers in armor in that church than just about any one I can ever think of.

Budapest and the West

Hungary is the process of joining the EU, although it has been a bumpy ride (as it has for much of eastern Europe). They desperately want to be considered part of the European mainstream (much as it is with the Spanish as well). However, the transition is not easy. They have not converted to the euro yet, although they were supposed to have completed the process by 2006 amd then 2008 and now the target date is 2010 (although many experts think 2014 is more realistic). In the meantime they continue to use the Forint (often shortened to the HUF). The exchange rate is something like 174 Forints to a dollar. It is interesting because the historically weak US dollar is also suffering against the Forint - last year the exchange rate was something like 213 Forints to a dollar. I know this is supposed to help the US in trade with Hungary (as part of that huge US-Hungarian exchange of wooden figurines and chess boards), but it makes it tough for Americans travelling overseas. The Hungarians are having trouble qualifying for EU investment money because they have a very high national debt and are currently in the midst of some tough governmental economic reforms for EU membership. I talked to Istvan Benasces, the economics professor who has been a big supporter of the GM project here, about the whole process of EU integration and globalization. I was talking about whether or not Hungarians were opposed to the whole McDonaldization of the world. He said that when McDonalds showed up in Hungary it was actually viewed a good thing because it meant that Hungary was becoming a part of the bigger world trade picture and felt that it represented capitalism and democracy as Hungary came out of communism. He also said that McDonalds was appreciated because they have famously clean bathrooms, a relative rarity in Hungary. By the time you do the currency exchange here it ends up costing around five or six dollars for a meal at McDonalds, the same as in the US, but it is a much more expensive five or six dollars here than in the US, so in a way it is a symbol of new found wealth. Istvan told me that as an assistant professor he makes around five hundred fifty dollars a month, but is OK because he has other sources of income and his wife works as well.

Generally Americans are viewed very positively in Hungary, although they have their own frustrations with the Americans. One of the biggest is that even though the Hungarian leader supported Bush on the Iraq War it is still necessary for Hungarians to get a passport to travel to the US, while their neighbors in Austria do not have to jump through that hoop. For this reason the Hungarians feel sort of let down - why is it that the French and Germans, who were actively opposed to the war, get to come to the US without a passport but the Hungarians cannot.

The Budapest Metro System

Just a few minutes because I am running off to meetings at Corvinus University (the former Karl Marx University, but more on that later). Budapest, like the rest of Europe apparently, has a great public transportation system. It is easy to figure out, even if you don't speak Hungarian (and no one speaks Hungarian). That said, I have doubts if OSHA would be so impressed with the system. I was riding the other night thinking that the subway trains just seemed to be travelling faster than the metro trains anyplace else I have ever ridden, and boy those cars do bounce up and down a lot. The stations themselves are very clean and look new, even though it is supposed to be one of the oldest metro systems in all of Europe. The cars, on the other hand, are pretty rundown. What struck me was the fact that the escalators that connect the different lines have to be the fastest and steepest escalators I have ever seen anyplace. Naturally enough, after thinking this, the other night I was riding up a steep escalator when suddenly out of the corner of my eye I see someone falling down the down escalator next to me. Falling does not do it justice really - it was somewhere between flying and the opening sequence of the skier from Wide World of Sports going head over heels. He eventually ended up a crumpled mess on the stairs and the last I saw of him he was not moving - just gently travelling down the escalator. He was surrounded by other commuters who were looking after him and the metro officials were hurrying to his aid - and I am sure, sadly, that they are well-versed in the process. So, definitely visit Budapest, but definitely hold on tight to the rail on the metro.

Vienna and Museums

While my struggles with the Internet keep me from posting any pictures (I will try to get some posted later in the week) I do want to take the opportunity to at least write about some of the things I saw in Vienna and now Budapest. Vienna is really starting to grow on me. While it is more sombre than Madrid, although most of the world would fall into that category I guess, it does have a definite charm. It does a pretty good job of balancing out the modern with the ancient. It certainly feels like a new city, but it is also awash in history. If you like museums, and, come on, what nerd doesn't (obviously, I am talking about other folks because I am completely cool - OK we all know what a big lie that is) then Vienna is a great city for you. While they are spread out over the city, there is a healthy concentration of them in the Hofburg. The Hofburg is the old imperial palace of the Habsburgs, or it might be better to say palaces. The grounds are extensive, including numerous massive statues of leaders like Maria Theresa and the ubiquitous Hercules. I visited the Albertina because they were having an exhibit of Monet and Picasso, although neither of them would naturally draw me through the door. On my last trip to Vienna I visited the same museum because they were having a Picasso exhibit, so the person who runs the Albertina must really like Picasso. As it turns out this particular exhibit didn't actually have that many Monets or Picassos, but if it gets folks through the door . . . That said, I've now decided to rename the Global Module project as the Global Monet and Picasso Project and see what it does to the walk-up traffic. Of course, my decision to change the title of my dissertation from The Tudor Concept of National Security to Love's Savage Fury: The Turdor Concept of National Security never did lead to that movie deal . . .

Last year I also visited another museum at the Hofburg which featured an eclectic collection of ancient musical instruments, medieval armor, and material from the ancient site at Ephesus (where the Austrians have been digging for a hundred years). I had a great time and was tempted to go again, but instead decided to visit the culture and history museum, which is also part of the Hofburg grounds. It had a wonderful collection of Egyptian, Greek and Roman material, including an amazing display of Roman jewelry - which goes to show you just never know what you will find amazing on any given day. I would not have bet a tired dime that a display of Roman jewelry would be fascinating, but it truly was. The same museum had an extensive art museum including over forty Peter Paul Rubens paintings. They also had an extensive collection of medieval paintings. For all the failings of the Hotel Wandl (apparently my home away from home - I am passing through it three different times on this trip) it is only about four blocks from the Hofburg, which makes for great museum viewing.

The Internet or the lack thereof

OK, so I have moved on to Budapest and am still having Internet problems. I have some great pictures that I would love to post, but inconsistent or expensive Internet access is making it a little more difficult than usual. Apparently I will have to put some pictures on my memory stick and then transfer them. I am sitting in a little hole in the wall Internet cafe in Budapest that is across the street from my hotel, the Mercure Budapest Buda. In the hotel it will essentially cost me around ten dollars an hour to get wifi (if I can get it to work, it is the same system that I struggled with at the Hotel Wandl in Vienna). So, I walked across the street and am paying around a dollar and a half an hour. Of course, I am also sitting in the dark at one of five computers set up on a round table. Still, I do have a budget to nurture . . .
No trouble getting here this morning. Again, that amazing European public transportation system. In Vienna I paid 67 euros for a round trip ticket to Budapest. The train left on time and was perfectly comfortable. I figured out the Budapest metro system and bought a week pass so I am set there. Starting tomorrow morning I have a series of meetings stretched over three days with Corvinus University in regards to the Global Modules project. They seem really excited, so I am looking forward to the conversation. No time to sight-see so far (the hotel has a fitness center so I booked for the rest of the day). Maybe later in the week.

Danube University Krems

As always, the main chore of travelling is to promote the Global Modules network, either through presenting at conferences or visiting universities. We want as many different voices represented in the international dialogue as possible. We're focusing on creating a strong foundation in Africa and the Middle East, two areas that are all too often either ignored or vilified. That said, we also other parts of the world included as well. Obviously, we want European universities and we're trying to get a variety of schools. Last month I visited two universities in Sweden, and this trip I'm talking to multiple universities in Spain, Austria and Hungary.

One example of a potential Austrian partner is Danube University Krems. It is about an hour outside of Vienna, meaning that you travel around on the great intercity train system and then jump on one of the S lines that head out of town. Danube University Krems is an innovative school that is only around 15 years old and has around 3000 students. Our local champion is Sabine Zauchner. Her interest in the project shows how even in the academic world there are advantages to "networking." I met a professor from Klagenfurt University in Austria when Michelle Miller and I presented on the Global Modules at a conference in Hyderabad, India. The Klagenfurt professor then asked me to present at a Learning Communities conference in Klagenfurt, where I met Sabine after my presentation. She then encouraged me to visit her school and now it is paying benefits. They are interested in getting involved in the Concepts of Community core class for the spring semester, linking up for a couple Global Modules, and then, hopefully, expanding from there.

Vienna

Sorry if I haven't posted much from Vienna. I'm staying at the Hotel Wandl and the Internet options are really limited. There is supposed to be a link through the room itself and wifi in the lobby (both of which you have to pay extra for), neither of which actually work. So there is only one common computer in the lobby, which is constantly busy. The other option is a local Internet cafe around the corner. That said, the Hotel Wandl has a great location, and compared to the Hostal Persal from Madrid it qualifies as luxury accomodations. It is located at the Peterplatz and is right across from St. Peter's Church. One of the statues of the church stares in my window. The hotel is about two blocks from the Stephensplatz, where the massive St. Stephen's Cathedral is located. I'll have to post a picture of St. Stephen's later. I'm reviewing the ones I already took and none of them do it justice (it's massive).

Vienna is a lovely city to visit, although after Madrid it seems pretty sombre. My friend David Kite described Vienna as "heavy", and it's actually a very good description. The architecture and statues are all pretty massive. There are a lot of statues of Hercules, although I'm not exactly certain why. Maybe it was the seemingly Herculean task of keeping the old Austro-Hungarian empire together that made it seem like a good choice. I was in Klagenfurt, Austria last year and there was a statue of Hercules fighting a dragon in the main square, but he looked more like an Austrian shopkeeper than a mythic hero. It is a very expensive city to visit (and, to be fair, to live - it's not as if they're just sticking it to the tourists). I'm in the middle of a long trip and was pressed for time so I just had the folks at the Hotel Wandl do the laundry. We don't need to talk about how much it cost, but next time I'll just bag it and go looking for a laundramat.

El Gatos

OK, I've made it to Vienna, and am having the usual internet problems. I could make it to this site, so I guess that is a step in the right direction. The trip here was relatively uneventful, although Madrid once again earned it's reputation for being a citz of night owls. I left my hotel at 5:35 a.m. to go catch the Metro to go to the airport and there were thousands of people in the streets heading home. Granted, there was a special celebration where everything, including the Prado, was open all night, but somehow I don't think these folks are probably any different on any other Saturday night. When I made it down to the Sol Metro station there were a couple hundred folks sitting on the steps and waiting for the doors to open. I figured this had disaster written all over it, but I didn't have a choice. However, and pleasantly, when the gates opened everyone walked down them in some sense of order (albeit a drunken one) and made their way to the tracks. Once there the people on opposite sides of the tracks, who must have spent the night partying together, began to sing songs in unison and dance. Ah, Madrid.

Hostal Persal

OK, I know I have to just let this whole Hostal Persal thing go, but this is a pretty wretched hotel. The folks at the front desk are great and very helpful, but this room is tiny and the air conditioner leaks and the wifi was out half the time and the volume on the tiny wall-mounted TV was so low that I couldn't hear it and the elevator was down for a while. Still, it does have a wonderful location and a restaurant, which, while not great, does make breakfast in the morning easier (Madrid is not a big breakfast town, as you might expect from a town that is up all night). If you ever stay here just don't accept room 211. I tried to stay at the Hostal Cervantes, where I stayed before, but I couldn't confirm my reservation because they had the telephone and fax numbers reserved on the webpage. It's only 45 euros a night and is only a block from the Prado, but it's also a place that you'd almost have to go into on a dare (although the staff is nice and it has wifi). Oh, one last thing and I'm getting off the net, take a look at the shower. If you have to curl your toes to be able to stand in the shower basin then I just think it's too small. OK, OK, I've got to let this go . . .

Toledo

On extended trips like this one weekends are a little weird. It's difficult to do any direct Global Modules business, although I send out enough e-mails to give it the old college try. Usually one of the days is a travel day, and, typically, I'll be flying out early tomorrow morning for Vienna. That still leaves one day, and it's often the only time for some actual sight-seeing. Luckily, one of the University of Alcala professors, Carmen Flys Junquera, volunteered to drive me out to Toledo. I was planning on going out anyway, but this saved me the trouble of getting back on the Spanish train system (which wasn't a problem) and also provided me with a great tour guide.

Toledo is a beautiful city with a rich Visigothic, Jewish, Moorish and Christian history. In the Catedral de Toledo is possesses one of Europe's great cathedrals, which was great to see because Madrid does not have a great cathedral. The Catedral de Toledo took around 350 years to construct so you can see a series of architectual styles as you make you way from the back of the church to the front. There's a picture of it on top, although I didn't try to take one inside - flash photographs are forbidden and I've tried to take a lot of pictures over the years in situations like that and they never seem to work out too well. Plus, the cathedral was so incredible I would have had to take a hundred pictures anyway. It wasn't quite Notre Dame, but it's about as close as you can get.

The Monasterio de San Juan de los Reyes was also pretty spectacular. It was ordered constructed by Ferdinand and Isabella (the same Isabella from the Columbus stories). She was a very strong ruler (and put up with Ferdinand's constant womanizing) and there was a definite effort with about every square foot to emphasize her equality with him as a ruler. Remember, when they married the united and created Spain, and she wasn't just along for the ride. There's a picture above of chains on the side of the church. Apparently they were actually taken off Christian prisoners freed from the Moors and they were put on the church as a remembrance. The Monasterio also has a great central courtyard, complete with some great gargoyles.

There's not nearly enough time to talk about all there is to see in Toledo, at least not and still get packed before my flight. The streets are cobblestone and wind around the city at odd angles. Toledo rests on top of a hill and the river curls around the base of the hill on three sides so it was a natural for defense. It sort of reminded me of Fez, although the streets were not as narrow and it was not quite as insane. Unfortunately, the streets are wide enough for cars and, even though this was supposed to be a no car day in Toledo, they did buzz through the narrow streets at an alarmingly fast rate. It's a definite must-see if you're ever in Spain. It's only around an hour outside of Madrid.

OK, time to pack and get ready for the fight to Vienna. Don't know how much I'll be on, especially with pictures, in the next few days. The last time I stayed at the Hotel Wandl I had constant internet issues and could never get it to work with my laptop in my room, so I would spend hours in the lobby on the hotel computer. It's amazing that at one time I didn't want to come to Spain - now I can't wait to come back.

Tapas

Madrid really is an amazing place. Before I showed up here the first time I wasn't really that excited to go. My graduate work is in 16th century British history and I must have had some leftover Armada thing going on, but I just didn't think that I'd like Spain. It just shows how wrong you can be. I was coming back from Amman, Jordan and this was the connecting option and the price was right so this is why I ended up in Madrid. They say that politics is like making sausage, you don't really want to know how it's done. Putting together the Global Modules network sometimes feels that way. There's lot of time spent researching and planning, and there's also a lot of sheer dumb luck and adapting on the fly. If I know I'm going to fly through some place I'll quickly contact the local universities, test the waters, and then, depending up their response, decide whether or not to extend my stay. I had some real preliminary talks with the University of Alcala, they were positive, so I stretched out my initial stay in Madrid - and seriously began my campaign with the University, which has now borne fruit. It tends to work like that.

So, I decided to give Madrid a try and fell in love with it immediately. For some reason I thought the Spaniards were more dour - again, I think it's that whole English propaganda in painting the Spanish in dark colors. Instead, they are warm and fun-loving people. I know it seems like I romanticize all these other countries, and they are certainly not utopias, but in a lot of ways they simply seem a lot saner than Americans. The Spanish say that they, like the Australian claim, work hard and play hard. Well, I don't know if I've seen the work hard part yet, but they certainly play hard - or at least have a really nice balance between work and play. Yes, they don't work as many hours as Americans do, but they also don't own as much as Americans own or consume as much as Americans consume, and well, they just seem a lot happier to me than Americans do.

Central Madrid is a marvelous place to stay, even if you're stuck at the Hostal Persal. The place is honeycombed with all these fascinating cobblestone alleys heading off in different illogical directions. There must be hundreds of bars and restaurants here. It sort of reminds me of the best of New Orleans - the wonderful spirit, but without the silly, annoying excesses. Madrilenos love the late night so much that they are known as gatos (cats) because they only come out at night. As I've mentioned, dinner doesn't normally start until after 9:00 and going to a club certainly couldn't begin until at least 11:00. This is wonderful, of course, unless you're a 47 year old historian, who is heading back to the hotel as the party is getting started. One of my fondest memories is of watching the Spanish team play a world cup game in a tapas bar - the crowd was insane.

The bars here pride themselves on serving their own unique brand of tapas (hors d'oeuvres). All of them are fantastic and most of them are pretty cheap. A couple tapas makes for a perfectly fine dinner. You can just wander through the streets and find the tapas bar that fits your mood at the moment. Last night I tracked down the first tapas bar that I visited on my earlier trip to Madrid and relived my first tapas experience: one anchovy and two sardines and tomato on bread with olive oil drizzled on top (pictured above). It doesn't sound like much, but it's fantastic. After spending hours online today I was tired and wanted something quiet and quick tonight so I dropped into a little hole in the wall. The tapas were great - marinated salmon with onions and capers on bread, and then some sort of cooked crab dish - a few olives - and a couple beers - a nice meal for about ten euros. To top it off, they were playing country music. On the big screen TV they had on some dedication to Willie Nelson and I got to see him sing a duet with Lucinda Williams on her song Over Time - I'm a nut for Lucinda and that is one of my all-time favorite songs. And then I had the bizarre experience of seeing Willie sing a duet with Keith Richards on We Had It All. I figured that I must have gotten some bad tapas or something. The other thing that makes this like New Orleans is that the competition between the tapas bars is so intense that the food just has to be great or they can't stay in business - one of the few instances of capitalism actually working.

Retiro Park

Right in the center of Madrid lies Retiro Park, which is their answer to Central Park. It stretches over something like 350 acres and is a wonderful place to walk through - or get lost in. On my last visit to Madrid I had a meeting on the other side of the park with a professor and I took a bus to get there. After the meeting he told me I could just go into the park in an entrance on his side of the park and "keep walking diagonal" - with directions like that how could I get lost? Well, about two hours later I stumbled out the other side, armed with invauable directions from about ten well-meaning good samaritans and police officers. Obviously, it would help tremendously if I spoke Spanish, because Spain, unlike Sweden, is not a place where you run into a lot of folks who speak English. Nevertheless, they are unfailingly polite when dealing with idiotic monolingual Americans.

There are tennis courts and lakes and crystal palaces and running trails and restaurants. There is also a place to work out. If you enter the park by the Prado gate and walk in about fifty yards (being sure to leave bread crumbs to mark your trail) you'll find the building by the tennis court and the workout facility is in the basement - it only costs 4.1 euros. It's a wonderful place to sit of an evening with some ice cream and watch the world go by. Roller blading is still very big in Madrid so there are skaters all over the place. Also, Spaniards apparently really love dogs because they are there with their owners (read that any way you wish) by the dozens. There are also a large number of cats lurking in the darkness, which gave it a sort of spooky, Daphne du Maurier or Edgar Allen Poe feel.

Museo del Jamon

OK, so it's 2:30 and you're hungry - what do you do? In Madrid you would think about getting some lunch, although just barely because no one serves lunch before 2:00. On my previous trip to Madrid I had a late afternoon flight out and wanted to grab something before going to the airport. I wandered into a place around 1:00 and asked if I could get some lunch and the waiter gave me a look that I can only qualify as one of pity. I ended up going to Burger King instead because it was the only place serving lunch.

Now if it's actually lunchtime you could go to the Museo del Jamon. Yes, I know what you're thinking, "wait, my Spanish is a little rusty, but isn't that museum of ham?" Yes, you'd be correct. You can order things other than ham there, but they essentially say, "what a fascinating order, but have you considered ham?" (it sounds better in Spanish) You can get a ham sandwich and a Mahou (the national beer of Spain) for 2.3 euros (the olives are a comp), so it's a pretty good deal. You'll have to stand at the counter and the place is packed. This place would be Homer Simpson's alternative to Moe's.

University of Alcala

Thursday, 20 September 2007

The University of Alcala is located in Alcala de Henares, which is around thirty minutes outside of Madrid by train. Once again, I can’t say too much about the extraordinary Spanish public transportation system. The trains run on time and it is easy to find your way around (even if you don’t speak a word of Spanish). The university itself is beautiful and has a history that stretches back centuries. Oddly, it was all but dead for much of the 20th century and was brought back to life mainly by the efforts of the people of Alcala de Henares who refused to give up on their dream of breathing new life into the school. Thank goodness they did. While some of the buildings are surprisingly modern, others have the same look, on the outside anyway, that they did in the 15th century. In some places the architects have melded brand new buildings onto older structures, but even they have allowed the older buildings to dominate. Most of their buildings, even the ones five hundred years old, are wireless or soon will be – the challenge of which our own IT folks could understand. The university has something around eighteen-thousand students, but has the feel of a more intimate college.

The campus is full of beautiful old courtyards, often hidden behind five hundred year old facades. One administrative building has a façade dating back to the time of Charles V. Once you go through the gate you enter the first of three linked courtyards, each one progressively older. In one of the courtyards there is an idyllic tree-covered corner that is simply referred to as the Philosopher’s Garden (seen above) – my proposal would be that we retire David Kite and Alfonso Capone here (preferably sooner than later).

In a series of meetings that stretched over two days I met a number of faculty and administrators, including the Dean of Humanities, the Assistant Dean of Economics, the Director of International Relations, and the Chair of the Modern Languages department. All of this was organized by Carmen Flys Junquera who is a very big supporter of the GM program. Her parents are Spanish but she was raised in the states. She moved to Spain in the 1970’s and has been here ever since - her own experiences with two different cultures probably explains her fascination with the GM program. If she as good an ambassador for the GMs as she is for the university we’ll have no trouble succeeding here. Alcala is interested in embedding the Global Modules in several courses as an experiment for the upcoming spring semester, but they are already talking about signing a memorandum of understanding and expanding to more classes next year – maybe even taking the same approach that Champlain is doing and actually embed them in key courses. They also have an interesting bonus credit program where students can get one, two or three credits for taking on unique assignments, and Alcala is talking about using this approach for a one-credit course that would just be the Global Module itself. This might actually be a possible approach that Champlain could use as it explores ways to bring the GMs into the extracurricular realm. Carmen thinks that immigration would be a great GM topic because the Spanish (like a lot of European countries, and the US for that matter) are dealing with their own immigration issues.

Madrid

OK, I've made it to Madrid without too many problems, even conniving an aisle seat in the emergency row on the flight over the Atlantic. I arrived about 9:30 a.m. this morning (3:30 a.m. VT time) and have been going since. After making it out of the airport and finding the Hostal Persal I had to grab something to eat and then make my way out of the University of Alcala for the first of two days of meetings.

Getting around Madrid is easy because the Metro system is fantastic. The only problem is that there are a lot of ups and downs and you wind around from one line to another - some have escalators and others don't. It's only a problem if you happen to have just gotten off a trans-Atlantic flight and are carrying the world's biggest suitcase. You'll turn a corner and suddenly there is a climb up of forty steps followed by a climb down of thirty steps - it's sort of like Super Mario.

The Hostal Persal is OK, although the wifi actually only works in the lobby (which is where I'm sitting). I do have the smallest room in the world (it's not as big as the picture would indicate). When I opened the door I thought I had accidently entered the walk-in closet. The shower is even smaller, but it really isn't a problem unless you're one of those people who insist on having your entire body in the shower at once.

The trip out to the University of Alcala was great and they are very enthusiastic for the GM project, but I'll have more to say about that later. Right now I'm ravenous and have to go find something to eat. It's about 9:18 and that's about right because no one from Madrid would ever consider even thinking about eating before nine p.m.

Travel

I love travel, don't get me wrong. However, I think some people view it as much more romantic than it is - or at least much more romantic than my travel budget allows. You do get to see a lot of wonderful sights, although it also means weeks away from family and friends and eating a lot of meals alone (which is why I love the travel journal that my sister Beth bought me - it gives me something to do while waiting for my food) and staying in budget hotels to stretch the budget and watching a lot of TV in foreign languages (by the way, The Simpsons in Arabic doesn't translate very well). Making arrangements is troublesome, not only with the universities in regards to planning meetings but also just plane and train trips. Thank god I have the help of Rochelle from Child Travel, although I suspect she shrieks every time I send her one of my e-mails. Here's an example from earlier today:

"Rochelle,

OK, I guess we should start working out the nightmare of the Jordan-UAE-Kenya-Uganda flight (I cringe at the thought of it, although I went by the travel clinic yesterday for my yellow fever shot [and second meningitis shot] so I guess it would be silly not to follow up on it now).

Just to get the conversation started:

21 or 22 October – Burlington to Amman

30 October – Amman to Dubai

3 or 4 November – Dubai to Nairobi, Kenya

7 November – Nairobi to Eldoret, Kenya

11 November – Eldoret to Kampala, Uganda

14 November – begin trip home, probably back through Amman to take advantage of some cheap initial round trip to Amman (although there’s a chance I might stay in Uganda for a couple more days to visit Mbale, but I doubt it)

My brain hurts just thinking about it . . .

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And my colleagues at Champlain think I'm difficult to deal with on a daily basis . . .

Fez

Tuesday, 28 August 2007

Fez, Morocco. How does one explain Fez? It would make perfect sense if you had grown up in a medieval souk, but someone who grew up in the hills of southern Indiana is at a distinct disadvantage to tackle that definition. The Riad al Pacha is right inside one of the outer walls that circle the medina. In Morocco the three main areas to visit are the Ville Nouvelle (built by the French), the Fez el Djedid (Fez the New, built in 1273 by the Merenid dynasty), and Fez el Bali (Fez the Old, founded in 808 by Moulay Idriss II, the son of Morocco’s founder, Moulay Idriss I). The medina itself is in the Fez el Bali so I was in a perfect location to just step outside the Riad, cross the dusty parking lot, and enter one of the endless side streets. The more traditional approach would be to enter through one of the famous babs, or gates, the ring the walls.

Out of the week and a half I was away this was the only day that was really set aside for sight-seeing, so I was really excited about entering the medina. Once you are inside the medina you are faced with a bewildering and seemingly endless series of narrow streets, and I’m using the word streets in the most inappropriate sense of the word. With the exception of the occasional square where the streets magically and illogically come together to open up and allow the sunshine in, you are usually walking through a series of shady narrow corridors with alleys jutting off left and right at random. The average street is only around six feet wide (if that). In addition, there are over a thousand derbs (dead-end alleys) in the medina so the question is not whether or not you might get lost but rather when. With me it took about five minutes. In a way it was sort of liberating. There was no point really concentrating on which turn you had taken off what street because it was completely impossible to make sense of any of it unless you had grown up here. There weren’t many street signs, and if there were they were in Arabic or occasionally in French. The streets are too narrow for cars and especially for trucks so the only means of conveyance are donkey and horses, which means that in addition to having to watch out for a myriad of shop-keepers, religious scholars, women shopping for their daily household needs, children and tourists, you also have to look out for pack animals loaded down with so many goods that they took up the width of the entire derb. I’m proud to report that I was only knocked over by donkeys a couple times, which means that I was paying attention more than usual.

I actually found walking through the medina to be wonderful. The shops included butchers, every conceivable type of vegetable, electronics, call centers, e-cafes (which, again, proves my point that the only place you can’t find a Internet café is Burlington), pastries (I was hoping to get to taste pastilla, which is supposed to be remarkably sweet pastry made with pigeon meat, but it didn’t work out), tanneries, metal works, ceramics, fabrics, etc. – all sharing space with mosques and religious schools. For the most part people left me alone. One elderly shop keeper did yell at me for taking a picture of a boy cutting fish in his shop. I can’t blame him, and it’s just one of the chances you take – even when you’re trying to be inconspicuous. One teenage boy and one little girl of around seven followed me for about ten minutes a piece trying to forge a relationship that would lead to them being my unofficial guides. As in India, if you happen to just make eye contact the negotiations have begun. I try to maintain a look somewhere between total distain and absolute rage, hoping that will scare folks off and it generally works – of course, it’s the look that my friends tell me I’ve flashed at faculty senate meetings for years.

One of the places that I wanted to see in the medina was the Terrasse des Tanneurs, the medieval tanneries which are still producing leather goods today. I kept walking around the labyrinth of streets with quite finding it so I stopped back in a little shop for a Sprite and asked the shop keeper for directions. He fetched his son, Mohammed, and had him walk me to the tanneries, for which I gave him ten dirhams. As with most of the shops, as soon as you walk in one of the salesmen latch on to you and you get the official tour with the understanding that he’ll get paid for it somehow. You walk up winding steps to look down into the ancient dyeing vats where the sheep, goat, cow and camel skins are prepared and dyed. The skins are placed successively in saline solution, lime, pigeon droppings, and then a number of natural dyes – poppies for red, saffron for yellow, and mint for green. The barefoot workers pick up the skins with their feet and work them (sort of like crushing grapes for wine, I suppose) before the skins are laid out to dry in the sun. Today they were dyeing red and the skins drying in the sun were yellow. The negotiations for a couple goods were a grand opera of good cop/bad cop and a period when I was supposed to meet the salesman on the upper balcony for a bribe so that he could face his “angry” boss to explain the incredible “deal” I had just received. As is always the case, I’m sure I was ripped off magnificently, but I don’t worry about these things – as an Indian taxi driver told me once when haggling, “But you’re so big and I’m so small,” meaning that as an American I was “rich” and he was poor. One never knows where the great wheel of life will stop spinning and what life you’ll end up with, and as Americans we skip along so luckily it’s hard for me to get too angry for being ripped off a little (although I still get really angry at times when negotiating, so don’t take the philosophical spin too seriously). In the end, I’ll usually end up losing more sleep over giving up too many players in a fantasy baseball trade.

Earlier, when I was thinking about plunging alone into the chaos of the medina I considered calling Samil, the tour guide who picked me up the first night. I normally steer clear of tour guides like the plague, but even the tour books say that one of the few good times to hire a tour guide is when facing the medina at Fez. However, tour guides also tend to spend a lot of time taking you to shops where they get a commission, so I ended up not doing it. After visiting the tanneries I was sitting in the shade trying to cool off when I saw two Italian women, Laura Carraro and Viola Bollalia, who I had talked to the night before over dinner at the Riad. As I popped out to say hello I suddenly heard, “Ah, Mr. Gary.” It was Samil, and he was taking them on a tour. I figured if it was their fourth trip to Morocco and they were hiring Samil I might as well just give in, and I joined the tour. Of course, typically, he took us to a rug shop and then about four other shops where it was obvious he had deals. At one point I told him that the usual commission for tour guides and taxi drivers in India to take tourists to prearranged shops was between 15-20% and wanted to know what it was here. He admitted 5%, although I suspect it’s higher. Even so, he was an invaluable guide to the medina and helped me find the university and gave me directions for getting back to the Riad – not to mention all his help the first night, so I won’t begrudge him a few (well, a lot more than a few) dirhams.

At the end of the day I was finally able to get to Kairaouine University, which is the west’s oldest university. It’s still in existence although it only has a few hundred religious students. You can’t get too far inside, but it does have a lovely and ornate central plaza. There is also a mosque there and prayers were going on just as I was let into the courtyard, which was a little unsettling. Several Muslims made their way through the little crowd of French tourists and went to the tiny central fountain to cleanse themselves physically and more importantly spiritually before stepping into another area for prayers. The area for prayer was separate from the central courtyard by only a small wall and what looked like a dry moat. Non-Muslims are not allowed into mosques, generally, although I did get to enter a huge mosque in Amman one time. I think there is only one mosque in all of Morocco (I think in Casablanca) that allows non-Muslims to enter, so it was a unique experience to be able to watch the Muslims prostrate themselves during prayer.

Abdul just stopped by to wish me a safe trip. He apologized that he would not be able to deliver my 3:00 a.m. wake-up call but assured me that someone would. Mohammed is coming to pick me up at 4:00, and then my flight from Fez to Casablanca takes off at 6:00. By some miracle my luggage actually showed up at the Fez airport on Monday night, I wonder what the odds are that my luggage will get lost again on the trip home?