Most Valuable Helper

An eloquent tribute to a larger than life figure that I remember seeing play at my first NBA game. I wish more players embodied his spirit. Original article here.

Most Valuable Helper - Op-Ed Columnist

By Nicholas Kristof

Sports stars often make headlines with spectacular misconduct, and they don’t use their celebrity enough to make the world a better place. But every now and then, along comes a star as gifted ethically as athletically — and I’m thinking now of one of the greatest basketball players ever.

Certainly not one of the best shooters, for he averaged only 2.6 points a game. But Manute Bol, at more than 7 feet 6 inches tall, was a moral giant who was unsurpassed in leveraging his fame on behalf of the neediest people on earth.

Bol died on Saturday from a noxious mix of ailments, exacerbated by his insistence on working in Sudan to build schools and forestall a new civil war. Bol’s great dream was to build 41 new schools across Sudan (he admired the first President Bush, hence the No. 41).

It’s a lofty dream, particularly because he is no longer around to speak at fund-raisers. It’s almost as inconceivable as the dream he had when he was an African cattle-herder aspiring to play in the N.B.A. — and this too can be a slam-dunk, posthumously, if his fans help out.

If each admirer chipped in the cost of a ticket to just one game, if each of his former teams agreed to match donations, if a few current and former N.B.A. stars agreed to stand in for Bol at fund-raisers, why then schools would sprout all across Sudan.

The first of Bol’s 41 schools is now approaching completion in his childhood village, said Tom Prichard, executive director of Sudan Sunrise, the charity that Bol used to build his schools. Forty to go.

Bol grew up herding cattle. Twice he ran away in hopes of attending school, but he never got much formal education. He moved to the United States and played in the N.B.A. from 1985 to 1995, setting a rookie record for blocking shots. He was a curiosity, the tallest player in the league when he started.

As Bol began playing before large crowds in America, his homeland exploded in violence. Northern Sudan waged a savage war against the South, costing roughly two million lives. American officials and news organizations mostly looked the other way, but Bol worked passionately to ease the suffering.

One summer, Bol button-holed more than 45 members of Congress, trying to get them to pay attention to the slaughter. He donated most of his basketball wealth to help the people of southern Sudan, and he flew into war zones to highlight their suffering. Sudan bombed camps that he visited, perhaps in an effort to assassinate him.

Some 250 people in his extended family were killed in the war, Bol estimated, many of them by Sudanese soldiers from Darfur. Yet when the Sudanese Army turned on Darfur in 2003, he was one of the southern Sudanese who led the way in protesting the slaughter in Darfur.

Bol envisioned co-ed, multifaith schools in which Christians in southern Sudan studied alongside Muslims from northern Sudan. Darfuri Muslims have been helping to build the first school, in Bol’s hometown of Turalei, a two-and-a-half day drive from the nearest paved road.

Robert McFarlane, a former national security adviser to former President Ronald Reagan, traveled late last year with Bol to Turalei and gushes about what a “giant heart of gold” Bol had. Mr. McFarlane told me: “The people of Turalei almost worshiped Manute for his commitment to make schools available for their kids.”

Critics sometimes derided Bol’s kooky publicity stunts, like participating in a celebrity boxing match or putting on ice skates to become the world’s “tallest hockey player.” Bol shrugged off the scorn because he seemed to care less about his dignity than he did about raising money for schools.

Bol made his American home in Olathe, Kan., and a local paper, The Kansas City Star, made a larger point a few weeks before he died:

“Bol symbolizes an unfortunate side of our sports obsession and how we measure the worth of those who play,” The Star noted. “The best athletes get the love, most times regardless of what they do away from sport. Bol, doing the work of a saint, is largely ignored.”

A new civil war may be brewing today in Sudan: The South is expected to secede early next year in accordance with an international treaty, and many fear that the North will unleash war rather than lose oil wells in the South. President Obama and his administration have been weak and ineffective toward Sudan in ways that make another horrific war there more likely. We can only hope that President Obama and his aides will be bolstered by Bol’s gumption and moral compass.

Bol will never be able to cut the ribbon at the schools he dreamed of. But we can pick up where he left off. In a world with so much athletic narcissism, let’s celebrate a Most Valuable Humanitarian by building schools through his charity, www.SudanSunrise.org.

Have you heard this one (Part 2)??

A SKINNY INDIAN GUY WALKS INTO AN ELEVATOR...

...following 7 grandmothers. Again the odd one out this time going up to our floors the grandmothers all were fumbling for their keys to trigger the elevator to go to the right floor. They were going to the 3rd floor and I was going to the 8th. One of them asked me where I was going. Before I could respond the others chimed in, "he's going to his room!" Without missing a beat another responded, "why? Do you want to join him?" Naturally there was much laughter and I didn't really have an opportunity to counter with anything and to be honest I was somewhat speechless.

Though both of the above incidents sound as though they are jokes I assure you that I can't make up stuff like this.

Have you heard this one (Part 1)??

A SKINNY INDIAN GUY WALKS INTO AN ELEVATOR...

...and is greeted by 7 big guys all wearing black.  I was the only person wearing any color (red and orange).  There were four guys wearing Daisy Duke style cutoff shorts, sneakers, fake (?) long brown hair, sleeveless leather jackets without shirts, and headbands.  The remaining guys were dressed more "normally" in jeans and black tshirts.  I was immediately asked whether I was "going to the Iron Maiden concert?"  As if my appearance (slacks, dress shoes, dress shirt) didn't give it away I responded that I wasn't.  They proceeded to jovially discuss how they planned to sneak various illicit items into the concert.  Outside the hotel it was madness in the streets with numerous metalheads making their way down the street to the GM Place.  I reflected on the situation and thought that if I had the choice to be randomly outside a concert before or after that was either a large hip hop show (Snoop, Dre, etc.) or a large metal show (Metallica, Iron Maiden, etc.) I think I would rather find myself at a metal show.  If metal fans get drunk and angry they pretty much just fight and if I'm sober and caught nearby I can easily get away from the situation, because it mostly involves fists.  Conversely if the same situation happened outside a hip hop concert I can't be sure, but I would be very wary that there would be a gun pulled out very soon.  Naturally these are big generalizations and people get fatally injured at metal shows all the time and there are countless safe hip hop shows, but this was my thoughts. 

The perils of sharing dessert...

There are two perils, as far as I can tell, with sharing dessert that I have run into.  The first was really more unfortunate for the HyWy, because often I would get carried away in my enjoyment of our shared dessert and she would find it more than halfway finished.  Now I've learned to eat slower and also periodically check in to see how she's doing.  The second peril as I found out tonight is not so much about sharing, but rather what happens when your "sharer" is not present.  I ordered a dessert tonight and got about halfway through it when I realized I still have to finish the other half.  Perhaps I should have thought ahead and portioned some out for the person sitting next to me;). 

Brazil v. Ivory Coast

I met up with a few Couchsurfers to watch the Brazil match this morning in an area of town known as Commercial Dr.  It's similar to the Mission in that they are both very international.  The masses of Brazilians heading to the bars was amazing.  They had flags as capes, hats, and the rest of the get up.  Cars would drive down the street honking at them and they would cheer.  We ended up at a bar that would only let the exact number of people in that there were chairs available.  I've never heard of a bar/pub doing that.  We moved our tables out from the corner so we could better see the TV and we were repeatedly chastised by the waitresses.  Anyways once the match started the Brazilians were vocal with every touch and positive move that their side made.  There was a small contingent of Ivory Coast support or maybe they were anti-Brazil.  In the end the Brazilian fans came off a bit pompous though as they taunted the Ivory Coast fans and even flashed "L" hand gestures.  Don't get me wrong I'm all about talking smack, but that usually happens when there is history between the teams or when friends are involved.  I'm not really in favor of taunting random strangers in a bar supporting a team we don't have a rivalry with.  Regardless though it was fun to watch the match in a bar full of fans and everyone cheering.  There was definitely one shared enemy at the end of this one and that was the referee whether for Kaka's second yellow or the double handball of Fabiano. 

Bowen Island

After a week of rather crummy weather it warmed up dramatically on Saturday so I went ahead with my plan to go kayaking on Bowen Island.  Getting there was a bit of an ordeal has I had to take an express bu, which was almost an hour and then wait at the ferry terminal for ferry that came once an hour.  As it turned out I arrived just as the other ferry had left so I had an hour to wait.  The ferry ride was only about 20 minutes and once on the island the kayak rental place was right there. 

The funny thing was that the kayak rental guy swore up and down that he was convinced I had more experience in kayaking than I was letting on.  I told him that I had kayaked once or twice.  He didn't believe me so I told him that the first time was in Jamaica up and down a beach (doesn't really count) and then once in the Bay Area.  We had a river tour in Belize, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't a traditional kayak.  He finally concluded that I had a confidence about me that suggested I had been more. 

Once I got out onto the water it was exhilarating to be such a small boat in such an enormous body of water and surrounded by mountains.  The water was calm in the protected cove and even for a while once I ventured out to the next bay.  However, as soon as I got into the unprotected waters it started to get pretty choppy.  The owner told me to stay 15 meters or so off the shore.  The next thing I knew I looked up and I was easily several hundred meters off the shore, because I had cut across the bay and not along the shore.  When I decided to turn around I saw an enormous ferry starting it's 20 min journey over to where I was heading.  I knew that he would reach at the same time I would so I meandered about so as not to get in his way.  The return trip was against the wind so I was really fighting and man could I feel it in my core.  The shop owner said that if you are sore in your arms from paddling you're doing it wrong so I guess all my kayaking "experience" paid off. 

Where do you look in your hometown?

In a new city I can't help but look all around me as I walk down the street.  I look at the buildings, the stores, the people, the streets, the cars, the parks, the signs, etc.  I've noticed that people tend to stare straight ahead when they walk in Vancouver, but I think that that is because this is what they are used.  I've been thinking about what I do when I walk through San Francisco and I think sometimes I look around, but for the most part I stare ahead.  I know that after doing the same commute for months or years there might not be anything new to see, but the commute is never the same twice so there's always something to see.  Here's to looking like a wide eyed tourist in whatever city I am in. 

How Friday unfolded...

Yesterday after I got off work I thought I would walk back to the hotel and perhaps soak in the hot tub.  As soon as I walked out of the building and onto the main street I saw tons of people on the sidewalk.  It turns out that the power had just gone out and everyone was walking out of the stores/restaurants trying to figure out what was going on.  At the hotel the power was also out so I thought I would do the only logical thing: have a beer.  Inside the bar one of the barmaids that was not working was hanging out with one of the regulars and I sat near them.  The regular, Gary, made a reference to working in a "studio".  As anyone that knows me well knows the minute I hear the word "studio" my ears perk up.  I asked Gary what he does and it turned out that he works as a recording engineer in the CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Company) TV and radio studio that was a block away.  Over the next 10-15 minutes as his friends/coworkers came through I met a lighting guy and someone who travels with the Canucks to do sound for hockey games.  Then Gary offered to give me a tour of CBC studios, which I naturally readily accepted.  Once we finished our drinks we walked over to the second or third largest studio in Canada.  We walked in from the loading bay where he pointed out one (the TV one) of the two mobile rigs that the CBC uses, but the mobile audio rig was out for a gig.  From there we went into one of two stages similar to what I imagine the Letterman Show or the Tonight Show would be recorded on.  There were a set of bleachers for an audience of a couple hundred to sit and there was a band doing a sound check for a concert on Saturday.  Gary showed me how they route the sound from the mics to a splitter, to the live mixer, and then upstairs to the TV control room.  I had never seen a live TV control room so he explained how the master control operator takes direction from the director and assistant director.  We also saw the enormous lighting grid on the ceiling and how the lighting supervisor can select lights to use.  From there we went to the post production studio that handles the audio for the TV broadcast.  Then Gary took me into a series of rooms that they use for radio dramas.  The rooms were filled with foley (sound effect) props; it was something straight out of A Prairie Home Companion.  There were sinks, a bathtub, a set of stairs with two different surfaces, doors of all kinds, two sets of stoves, etc.  Next we saw where Gary works (he's been with the CBC for 35 years), which was a live room where they have concerts that are recorded for live release on CD, live radio broadcast, etc.  Next week the Jazz Festival is in town so Gary was saying that he has a lot of shows set up.  In the control room Gary pulled up some live recordings he has done and put them up on the studio monitors (speakers).  Man did the sound amazing!  We talked about their recording methodology, equipment used, etc.  The last area we toured was the news area and that was AMAZING.  I've always seen the news, but never seen a news studio.  Funny after living in Atlanta for 7 years I never toured the CNN studios.  The CBC studio has double studios of EVERYTHING because they have one for the French broadcast and one for the English broadcast.  I saw the news studio, teleprompters, news desk, weather desk, and all the radio booths.  Once we were done with the tour Gary mentioned how the band that we saw rehearsing was going to have a concert on Saturday evening and if I wanted to come they seemed to be short on audience members.  Unfortunately I spent the day kayaking so as I write this I'm too tired to move from my bed. 

However the adventure doesn't end there.  Parting ways with Gary I started to head toward Gastown where I intended to eat dinner.  Along the way I walked by a guy and two girls when the guy asked if I knew how to to get to the "Night Market."  I confessed to him that I didn't as I wasn't even from the area.  He asked where I was from and we started talking.  He introduced himself as Lee (or Leigh) and introduced the two girls (whose names I don't remember).  Leigh explained that the night market was a outdoor evening Chinese market in Chinatown.  When I told him where I was going he informed me that we were heading away from the direction I needed to head and I told him that was fine and I'd walk with them for a while.  When we found the night market Leigh ran into several groups of people and introduced me as his new friend.  The night market was ok and it kind of reminded me of all the stores in SF Chinatown setting up a market.  Eventually I told Leigh I was going to go back to my search for food and we went our way. 

The thing that sticks in my head about these chance encounters was how as the HyWy pointed out this is what traveling is really about...meeting new people and having new experiences.  I'm glad that even on a work trip somehow I've had some real experiences.  Today and tomorrow are more adventures, but that's for another post. 

TMI Facebook/Twitter

Last August I wrote a post about the cell phone crutch and the last few months I have seen people Tweeting or Facebooking in random situations that leads me to write a somewhat connected post.

In a reasonably high profile situation recently where a group of us were together for a few hours and had the opportunity to bond I noticed one of the players repeatedly checking her Facebook. I don't think any set of circumstances allows me to justify the public checking of your Facebook. What could possibly be going on there that is more important than talking with the people in front of you? I feel like this instantaneous form of communication is actually distancing people more as they spend so much time 'connecting' that they forget the real true connections in front of them.

On occasion I check in on a few Twitter feeds to see what someone said about a soccer match or if there is any new bouldering routes at my gym. As with most things I read if I see something on a page of interest then I click that link, which sends me down a rabbit hole of links. One twitter feed I found had an individual talking about how they can't believe how many people get in touch with them in a night to see where they are going. I think Twitter feeds people's self importance. They look on their Twitter and it says that 500 people are following them so they feel more important. Someone told me that they think 95% of tweets are garbage and a few actually are relevant and useful. I agree.

Two down one to go

While in Vancouver I find myself without two things that I use so regularly their absence leaves me feeling a little lost.

The first is my cell phone. I'm sure I can find a way to get service in Canada or I can probably just use my phone to text, but as luck would have it I forgot my cell phone charger. Instead of freaking out, buying a new charger, or worse yet getting a cheap phone and inserting my SIM into it I took the simplest way out and turned my phone off for the duration of my trip. In the past few days I have noticed small ways in which I "miss" my phone. Can't remember the name, address, or phone number of a restaurant? I can't just GOOGLE text anymore. Need to know the time at some random moment walking on the street? Probably doesn't really matter because other then being on time to work I have nowhere that I need to be on time to. How do I get in touch with the HyWy or people I want to meet? They call the hotel or email me.

The second item is my car. I'm not as much lost without as getting used to the idea of not even being in a car. Usually when we go to India I don't drive for a month or so. When I was in Peru I was taking taxis everywhere. In Vancouver I haven't set foot in a car since Monday. That is practically unheard of in my life.

Now the thing that I need to separate myself from is my laptop, but that is much harder than it seems as I actually need it at this point.

A little boy's dream

I can't believe the amount of development going on in Vancouver. It's as if every block has some construction going on, which makes me wonder how they managed during the Olympics. I'm sure that most if not all of this work wasn't going on then as it would probably really snarl the traffic.

Across the street from our office is a standard high rise apartment size plot of land which is in the first phases of construction. They have just laid the foundation and are working on the first and second floors it seems. To me this seems like every little boy's (and perhaps some little girl's) dream. I could spend endless hours just watching out the window as the crane turns and moves concrete into place to set the supports. We are literally across the street so I can see the crane operator from our 5th floor windows as he skillfully maneuvers the enormous boom from about 10 stories up. For years I had never seen one of these cranes operate up close and wondered what it looked like. The other day as I stood there he was moving the concrete drum forward and it almost looked like it could come crashing through our windows (that would have been disastrously cool). The one thing our offices lack right now are tables and chairs set right in front of the window where we can sit with our lunches and watch our childhood dreams.

Dispatches from the Field: Vancouver, Day 1

So I found out last week that I was going to have to come to Vancouver for 10 days starting today. In many ways this is a better assignment than my previous one in Lima, but in other ways it is worse and this is purely from personal perspective. Regardless I figured that another long term assignment of sorts means I should resume my blogging of interesting things.

The morning started at the airport with the Netherlands/Denmark World Cup match and was emblematic of one of the reasons I'm excited to be going to Vancouver. I enjoy being in another country during the World Cup to see how people get more worked up than in the US. Strangely enough 8 years ago during the World Cup I was in Toronto. At the airport it was fun to see how there were a few passengers interested in this game, but all the staff in the restaurant were watching and discussing the weekend games.

My arrival into Vancouver was uneventful and I made my way to the office after dropping off my bag at the hotel. Lunch was the most blog worthy part of the day as my coworker took me Japadog. The best way to describe the food at Japadog is that it's a traditional hot dog joint running head first into a sushi restaurant. I'm sure some of you are thinking, "raw fish with a hot dog? Ugh!" But this was more seaweed, radish, soy sauce, etc. with a hot dog. I'm sure most still are not sold and I was skeptical. However, I was won over by the reasonably good ideas that they concocted. However, the real funny part was that once I placed my order with the tiny Japanese girl she yelled it out to her compatriots in a barely intelligible JapEnglish hybrid and her compatriots yelled it back in confirmation. The staff of the little hole in the wall restaurant seemed to actually be having fun in the middle of their Monday lunch hour madness. One girl accidentally threw her pen across the room while working and just burst out in laughter. I feel that this kind of combination of jovial and high pressure atmospheres don't really exist in the US.

Another thing that caught my eye was the number of small restaurants in Vancouver. This isn't something new, because on numerous trips to Toronto it blows my mind the number or restaurants that there are. I've been to New York and I'm sure that there are more restaurants in New York than in either Toronto or Vancouver, but for some reason it doesn't feel like that is the case. Every block seems to have a kabab/falafel shop, Chinese food, Japanese food, pizzeria, and sandwich shop. I long for the days when my home office has this kind of food selection nearby.

That's all for now. More tomorrow.