Wow...I finally made it to Senegal!  Everyone had been warning me that the trip from Bamako was hellish but I thought they were exaggerating; it turns out they were right.  It’s a good thing that I had a full week to somehow get over here or else I might have missed my flight.  I left Bamako at 5am last Sunday morning and didn’t arrive at my destination (St. Louis, Senegal) until noon on Wednesday…almost 80 hours spent on buses, boats and in cars, sleeping at bus stations, waiting at police checkpoints etc!  Suffice it to say, it was a very tiring trip.  It also didn’t help that I had stayed out until 8am on Friday night, took a quick nap and then hung out again till 4am on Saturday night; I ended up going straight to the bus station from a late-night Chinese run brothel (drinks only) and arrived just in time for departure.  What can I say, it might be the last time I see some of my Peace Corps comrades so make the most of it, right?  The trip from Bamako to Kayes (about 50km from the Senegalese border) went fairly smoothly.  At Kayes, the bridge across the Senegal River was out so we all had to get out and cross in pirogues (wooden boats).  As usual, a friendly stranger from the bus took me under their wing and made sure that I got across and to my next destination ok (I don’t know why – I was not very social and slept soundly for the duration of the bus ride).  Every time that I have traveled alone here in West Africa, some good Samaritan that I’ve met on public transport (usually an old woman) has helped me navigate my way through unfamiliar places without getting gouged too much on prices – it really is quite nice of them and yet another testament to African hospitality.  Since I couldn’t get on a Senegal-bound bus that day, I ended up spending Sunday night at the bus-station.  On Monday, the bus left in the evening, drove 50km before stopping for the night at the border because Senegalese customs was closed until the next morning.  Between delays getting through customs, numerous police checkpoints and vehicle problems, we did not arrive in Kaolack (a few hours outside of Dakar) until late Tuesday night / early Wednesday morning.  I again spent the night at the bus station before taking a bush taxi the next morning for St. Louis.  On finally arriving, I promptly passed out at the hostel – my first good sleep in 5 nights.

St. Louis is an interesting city that somehow seemed oddly familiar.  Faded French influence, very touristy, a densely packed island city…hmmm, this sounds a lot like Mopti!  I think St. Louis is what the French were aiming for in designing Mopti but they never quite got that far.  While calling Mopti, the Venice of Mali is certainly pushing it, St. Louis would most definitely fit the bill.  Filled with strikingly beautiful French colonial architecture all packed very densely onto a small island at the mouth of the Senegal River, in its heyday St. Louis must have been quite a glorious sight to behold.  It used to be the capital of the French territories in Mauritania and Senegal and from what I hear, at one point city residents were even considered as French citizens (with full voting privileges).  Even today, the city retains a very sophisticated vibe and it does not fail to impress; when looking at it from across the water, it certainly did remind me of Venice.

Right now, I am in Dakar; it is hard to believe that my time here in West Africa will be drawing to a close in a few days.  Today, I passed by an American style food court with burgers, fried chicken, ice-cream etc.  If this had been a year ago, I would have salivated at the opportunity; however, now realizing that I am not going to be here for much longer, I opted for the Senegalese option instead – much cheaper and delicious.  That said, there is a possibility that I might be staying here for a little while longer at least in the near term.  I just found out today that the airline that I am flying home with is on strike and all their flights are grounded.  Hopefully, the situation will be resolved by Tuesday or else it appears that I might be delayed for a bit - that would suck since I have already booked and paid for non-refundable onward tickets to Chicago and Detroit.  Just goes to show yet again, sometimes its best not to plan too far ahead when traveling here. 

*  This entry doesn't have anything to do with my daily life in Mali

While working in public accounting back in 2007, we were once given the task of valuing the portfolio of a hedge fund that invested only in greenhouse gases.  This seemed like a very daunting prospect.  I had no idea how to approach it.  The manager was at a loss.  Even the partner in charge of valuation had never encountered it before.  Long story short, calls were made to various experts around the world, specialists were brought in and an appropriate methodology was somehow arrived at; we moved on to more mundane, easy to value assets like mortgage-backed securities.  I thought that was the last I would hear of something as bizarre as investing in greenhouse gas credits.  Well, hello ACES - American Clean Energy and Security Act!

A fellow Peace Corps friend of mine here in Mali is adamantly against the passing of this law - believe me, this is a highly unusual (and risky) position to take among "green", environmentally conscious Peace Corps volunteers.  At first glance, it seems like a great idea; I do believe that global warming exists (its not just some nefarious conspiracy) and we should be taking steps today to reduce our dependency on fossil fuels and develop alternative energy technology.  However, after some VERY brief research into this Act - primarily the trading of emission credits - I am not so sure if this is the right way to go about it.

From my cursory understanding of ACES, it sounds like the government is going to set an arbitrary cap on greenhouse gas emissions.  Credits will then be issued to manufacturers/polluters.  If a factory has a credit to emit one ton of carbon and they actually emit two, they will either have to pay a penalty to regulators on that excess ton or purchase an additional credit in the open market.  On the other hand, if that same factory has credits for three tons and still actually only emits two tons of carbon, they can sell that additional credit to someone else that needs it.  Each year, the government will gradually lower the total arbitrary cap on carbon until our actual greenhouse gas emissions are lowered to our stated goals.  The price of energy will rise and theoretically, this will spur research and development into alternative, non-greenhouse gas emitting technologies (which will be relatively cheaper).  Sounds pretty straightforward, right?

Well, who exactly will be rewarded and who will bear the brunt of the costs in this market-based system?  85% of the initial emission credits are being given out for free to various corporations, utilities and other carbon emitters (all decided by politicians).  Instead of holding an auction where the government could at least take in some revenue to either pay for the costs of regulation, offset other taxes or actually invest in alternative energy technology, these credits - which will eventually be worth billions of dollars - are essentially just being given away.  In future years (as the total emission cap is gradually lowered) those already holding credits have a surefire investment that is guaranteed to dramatically rise in value.  Inevitably, this will attract the attention of speculators (like hedge funds) who may come in and buy up emission credits on the open market.  This speculative trading could push the price up even further (increased demand, limited supply) until it no longer bears any relation to the underlying value of the credit and instead becomes just another financial instrument - a bet on future price movements; lo and behold, we have a new bubble.  As the price of emission credits increases, the cost will be passed on to everyday consumers in the form of increased prices on energy, food, transportation, manufactured goods etc.

So wins and who loses?  Speculators and those who trade in greenhouse gas credits can make money at the expense of consumers who will pay more for everyday products.

Another thing I’m unclear about is how this bill will be regulated.  It will not only impose huge compliance costs on companies but it seems like most of the regulatory burden will be on federal/state government authorities.  If most of the money captured from consumers is kept within the emission credit market, it is unlikely that the government will receive any additional revenues.  Instead, it will have to raise other taxes or borrow even more money to pay for these monitoring costs; in effect, the consumer gets shafted twice – first through increased prices of everyday goods and second through raised taxes to pay for regulation.

So again, who wins and who loses?  I suppose accountants and CPA’s might win because with a new complex financial instrument that no one understands, job security is further enhanced (good news for me); everyone else loses because they not only have to pay higher prices but higher taxes as well.

Now one could make the argument that EVERYONE on the planet actually wins because greenhouse gas emissions will decrease and global catastrophe will be averted.  Is this really true though?  One major concern with cap and trade systems comes from the use of offsets in a global marketplace.  For instance, suppose that a company is emitting more greenhouse gases than it has emission credits for.  In a global carbon market, this company can purchase offset credits from developing country companies or governments in order to meet compliance requirements.  However, a major concern is whether these offsets and credits are regulated with the same level of scrutiny throughout the world?  After spending the past two years living and working in a third-world country, I would venture that there are major differences in the quality of the regulatory environment between the U.S. and many developing nations.  Therefore – in an extreme case – it might be hypothetically cheaper and even easier for a company to pollute and then buy up these offset credits from a loosely regulated or corrupt foreign country.  Although organizations like the UN are probably supposed to be watchdogs, after seeing the UN and other international NGO’s in action, I can’t say that I am filled with confidence or have the greatest faith in their abilities.  Another danger is the concept of additionality in which a company/government entity receives an emission credit for undertaking an environmental improvement project that they would have done regardless of whether there was a carbon trading scheme in place.  Now this allowance credit – a credit that probably shouldn’t exist – can be sold to a polluting firm giving them permission to emit excess greenhouse gases. 

So once more, who wins and who loses?  Well-placed officials in developing nations, various special interests, speculators and creative accountants have the potential to make a lot of money.  The average person will pay more for almost all products, more in taxes and at the same time, there is a chance that greenhouse gas emissions might actually increase despite the noblest intentions.

I guess that my biggest qualm with this cap and trade approach is that I just don’t understand why we need this complicated market-based approach (I am a person that is usually all for markets so this is a bit of a switch for me).  When it boils down to it, the asset being traded is a government regulation – why mask it as some sort of free-market innovation?  Furthermore, markets have this nasty habit of being unpredictable and revealing truths that no one foresaw.  In creating this so-called “market” and putting a “cost” on emissions, the government is making a bold prediction that greenhouse gas emissions will decrease and this “cost” will go towards funding cleaner technologies.  Now, I’m all for reducing emissions, achieving energy independence and creating alternative forms of energy.  I actually support drastically increasing energy prices; however, I do think that this incremental revenue should go DIRECTLY towards developing alternative energy technologies.  In my novice opinion, if the government is going to regulate, then just do it.  Tax the inputs that create greenhouse gases – fossil fuels, fertilizers, landfills etc. – and then apply that money directly towards funding research and development of new technologies and providing seed capital for entrepreneurial startups.  Even with government bureaucracy, hopefully the majority of these additional revenues will find its way to the right people instead of disappearing into a nebulous “market”.

If the cap and trade legislation does pass and we commence global trading of emissions credits, the Chicago Climate Exchange will likely become one of the primary centers in the world for this market valued at potentially upwards of one trillion dollars.  Guess who some of the biggest investors in the Chicago Climate Exchange are? Former Vice-President Al Gore and former Secretary of the Treasury Hank Paulson. 

Who wins?

** Believe it or not, I haven't actually made up my mind fully on how I feel about cap and trade.  In just researching the subject for a few hours (Wikipedia article on emissions trading and a few articles for and against ACES), these points really jumped out at me.  None of the articles for it seemed to provide any thing of substance - just something needs to be done now, the market will solve everything and if you are against this legislation, then you are against saving the planet.  Yes, some change needs to take place but my initial reaction is that something like this could cause more harm than good.  If I am missing some important point, please let me know...who knows, maybe I'll invest in the Chicago Climate Exchange as well :)

Ouagadougou (capital of Burkina Faso) just might be my favorite West African city – hard to believe as it is a hot, Sahelian, land-locked capital.  However, the Burkinabe certainly deserve credit – it is perhaps the best planned city that I have visited in the region – wide avenues, a discernible downtown area, relatively clean, easily walkable, good public transport etc.  Food was great (and cheap – a big plus) and I managed to find a nice, no-frills hostel to stay in where I got to meet many interesting people (both travelers and Burkinabe).  Since Ouaga really has no distinguishing natural features of its own, the Burkinabe are really working hard to make it a destination city.  The Ouagadougou film festival is world renowned featuring films from throughout Africa; as a result, the city is filled with some very plush, fancy movie theaters.  I spent my days in Ouaga watching movies (finally saw the latest James Bond movie), lounging around swimming pools (it is hot season), following the Champions League soccer playoffs and hanging out at neighborhood cafes.  In fact, on both my trips, I used Ouaga as a sort of home base spending almost two solid weeks there alone.

From Ouaga, I eventually made my way to Togo, Cote D’Ivoire (Ivory Coast for anyone that needs the translation) and Ghana.  Before anyone gets the wrong idea, let me just clarify that I am not a very smooth traveler in terms of planning ahead, preparing itineraries, organizing trips etc.  Having voyaged a bit through Europe and Asia, I find that the common thread in all of my excursions is that I bumble my way through and somehow make it out in the end.  Africa is the perfect place for this kind of travel.  The best laid plans inevitably get shot down due to issues with transport, visas, weather, instability or a myriad of other reasons.  It’s the type of place where it seems best to just go with the flow and see where that takes you.  On my first trip, I meant to just spend a few days in Ouagadougou but ended up taking two weeks and making it all the way down to Lome, Togo.  A month later, I planned to go through Niger, Benin and Togo en route to Ghana; at the last minute, I decided to go down through Cote D’Ivoire instead.  Luck certainly does play a role though.  For example, our bus arrived in Lome fairly early in the morning so I decided to just go wait/nap on a park bench by the beach before finding a hotel.  Only afterward did I find out that the beachfront in downtown Lome is notorious for crime.  Just two weeks later, a couple of other PCV’s from Mali were physically assaulted there and had all their possessions stolen.  I lucked out (I was also probably so dirty from transport that even the muggers decided I was not worth the effort).  On my next trip (final destination being Ghana), I decided to check my itinerary against the PC security guidelines and learned that Togo was temporarily off-limits (incidentally, there was an attempted military coup shortly after I visited).  After chatting with a British guy I met at the hostel in Ouaga, he convinced me to take the train down through Cote D’Ivoire instead (what can I say, I’ve always liked trains).  Only after buying my ticket did he tell me that I would have to pass through the UN checkpoint dividing the rebel northern territories from the rest of the country.  Although the fighting has stopped for the moment, the civil war in that country does not seem to be officially settled once and for all.  In an attempt to follow the rules, I seemed to have gone from a country that might go into civil unrest to one that hadn’t yet finished theirs.  This time, I did not attempt to check this itinerary against the “permissible country” list – ignorance is bliss.

Cote D’Ivoire was great.  It was a very cool experience taking a train here in Africa; there is definitely something about travelling by train that is unique and irreplaceable no matter what continent you are on – the station ambience, the train conversations (people seem even more apt to chat even though finding friendly people to talk to is certainly not hard in this region of the world), sharing of food etc.  After crossing into Cote D’Ivoire, soldiers would walk up and down the train every now and then collecting money from all of the passengers for “security”.  It seemed odd at first but since everyone else seemed to be paying, I did as well; the ironic thing is that these same rebel soldiers acting as security would probably be the ones attacking the train if the war was still in full swing.  Anyway, I got off in Bouake, the rebel capital in the north, while the train continued on to Abidjan on the coast.  The policeman at the station took one look at my passport, proclaimed that he liked Americans and sent me on my way waiving my entry fee.  After hearing horror stories about the police checkpoints in Cote D’Ivoire, I had also been expecting the worst; however, no one checked my visa even once throughout the country.  Only when nearing the Ghanaian border did a policeman single out my passport and pull me aside.  Thinking to myself “Oh no, here it comes”, I nervously approached; all he wanted was to learn more about getting a student visa to America for his son.  From the Bouake train station, I hopped directly into a minibus headed for Yamassoukrou, the official capital and soon after, we passed through the UN checkpoint – manned by Pakistani soldiers – signifying the border between rebel-held territory and the rest of the country.

I went to Yamassoukrou for one reason and one reason only – to see the one of the largest churches in the world.  I suppose that something is ingrained in me from Sunday school and catechism classes as a child; if the largest basilica in the world is somewhere in my vicinity, I should make every possible effort to go see it and it was certainly worth the visit.  The Basilica of Our Lady of Peace of Yamoussoukro rises straight up out of the surrounding jungle and can be seen from miles away.  Built in the late 1980's, Felix Houphouet-Boigny - former leader of Cote D’Ivoire - spared no expense in its construction (he even had himself inserted in one of the stained glass windows kneeling before Jesus).  St Paul's Cathedral in London will fit inside it; 18,000 people can attend mass and each pew is even individually air-conditioned!  Houphouet-Boigny also did a very smart thing; after the consecration by Pope John Paul II, he donated the whole thing to the Vatican - now the Vatican has to pay for all the future upkeep instead of the Ivorian government (surely the Vatican can afford it).  In the process, Cote D'Ivoire gained the foremost pilgrimage destination for Christians throughout Africa.  Not bad at all.  From Yamoussoukro, I continued on down to Abidjan - the main city of Cote D'Ivoire.  Although I didn't have much time there, it seemed like a really interesting city; I've never been to Miami but with with its lagoons, skyscrapers and hip, laidback attitude, I would imagine that Abidjan just might be the West African version of Miami. 

If Ouagadougou is my favorite West African city, Ghana is definitely my favorite country.  I'm getting kind of tired of writing now so I'll just leave off by saying Ghana is AWESOME!  I really liked the way they speak English, the beaches are beautiful, people are INCREDIBLY nice, food is delicious, scenery is gorgeous etc.

In a nutshell, I can certainly see myself coming back to visit/work in this area of the world again.  I will admit that I had originally thought that Africa was in desperate need of all the help that it could get.  However, after being here, I see that there are many parts that are actually doing pretty well.  From an investment perspective (yes, I will be leaving Peace Corps soon), there are many companies and sectors that are actually doing really well (at least from a qualitative point of view - I haven't done much extensive research into them).  While the rest of the world seemed to be tanking as a result of the "global economic crisis", many companies here actually did pretty well showing even more potential for growth in the future.  I'll stop now as it is getting late but here is a short video showing some of the places I visited:

A few weeks ago, I travelled up to Sangha - the village on the Bandiagara Cliffs where we spent Christmas last year - to attend the Dogon funeral for Cristina.  She had lived there for 2 and 1/2 years as a Peace Corps Volunteer and as such, the village wanted to honor her by doing the traditional rites.  Dogon funerals are unlike anything I've ever heard of - I suppose the closest thing might be the funeral parades in New Orleans.  I might be mistaken on the specifics but from what I gather, Dogon people believe that when someone dies, their soul remains on Earth for around 40 days before continuing on its journey to wherever it goes in the afterlife.  At this time, the entire village stays up all night dancing, drumming and drinking to accompany the soul and ensure that it leaves this world safely.  These ceremonies can last a long time (I've heard as long as a week).  Dogon people are traditionally animist; although most villages have since converted to islam, many still retain their old beliefs and customs.  In this tradition (unlike islam), alcohol is not taboo - in fact, it is openly consumed and celebrated.  The drink of choice is locally brewed millet beer and everyone from toddlers to grandparents is quite comfortable downing a calabash of warm beer at any time of day.  Given the gravity of the occasion, a few of us decided to try and stay up with the rest of the village.  At one point, I got dragged into one of the dancing/drumming circles and so tried my best to just imitate movements.  Before long, someone pulled me out and handed me a calabash of millet beer telling me that it would make me dance better.  When we eventually returned to the house (Cristina's old PC house), there were a bunch of old men sitting around drinking millet beer so of course, we had to join them (this was probably around 4am) - it was a real cultural experience.  The shaman was so drunk he started dancing around, singing and trying to pull of his shirt - he was too inebriated to do this successfully though so he ended up just getting stuck in it while everyone else laughed.  Just before sunrise, everyone started to get very sentimental and pronounce what must have been very deep thoughts (since this all happened in Dogon, I had no idea what was being said but with all the millet beer, everyone seemed to be communicating just fine).  As the sun was coming up, a big group of old women came over to greet everyone good morning.  They yelled at the shaman for being too drunk and sent him home after confiscating his calabash of millet beer which they then proceeded to drink.  I tried to go and sit with the old women but before long they took my chair, handed me some coffee and stuck me out by myself about 20 feet away from them.  They then started to drink many more calabashes of millet beer (with their 5-yr old granddaughters) while pointing and laughing at me.  Somehow, the drunk shaman had found his way back into the concession so he came and grabbed me and we went behind a wall where the old men were continuing their party trying not to be seen by the women.  I ended up going to bed (or perhaps more aptly taking a quick nap) at 9am.  As funerals go, I have to say, its not a bad tradition - a celebration of life.  People are quick to complain about the inequality between the sexes here and the subjugated position of women in Mali.  During that night, I saw absolutely no difference between men and women.

I've also had the chance to have dinner with the American Ambassador and attend a ceremony presided over by the German Ambassador.  At one point during dinner, the topic turned to the Balkans.  With an uncanny knack for saying the right thing at the right time, I put my two cents in mentioning my recent trip to Bosnia and Croatia and how all the people I met hated the Serbians and blamed them for starting the war.  It turns out, the Ambassador's husband is from Serbia and she spoke fluent Serbian.  I don't think she appreciated that remark very much but its a good thing that I have no desire to ever be an Ambassador - it seems like a lot of work to always be on display having to say the right thing.

Anyway, here is a short video that I quickly put together.  A few things to note:

1) When the Malian President and Prince Aga Khan come to visit, all of the other foreigners seem to be in the convoy of SUV's; the Peace Corps Volunteer is somewhere out in the crowd

2) The Sustainable Tourism planning conference was put together by Cristina last year and held at the gouvernorat in Mopti.  I haven't translated the French but I thought it was quite funny - right at the end you can see Cristina's look of surprise when someone makes a motion to end early because the work is already finished.

3) The little boy in the green striped shirt gets yelled at by his mother to go have a bath (which he hates to do).

4) The German Ambassador did not look too enthused about getting up and dancing in front of all the VIP's another reason why I would not want to be an Ambassador.  Also, calling someone a "fat lady" is not an insult here - fat is beautiful.