Sprinting Towards the Finish Line

 

4:35 AM Amsterdam time, Monday, November 22, 2004. We’re high above Europe, on our way to Amsterdam. Since our arrival is on Amsterdam time I figured that I would set my watch back the requisite two hours. That is, a two-hour gain this time, not loss. Still, that makes for a very long day. Mine started at approximately 3:00 AM, about 28 hours ago. This is when we woke up, somewhere in Western Georgia, to start our drive back to Tbilisi. There is much to describe about our day and a half in Western Georgia, and I will get to that. In the mean time, let’s just consider the subsequent day and a half leading up to this moment.

 

Saturday evening we hit bed a little past midnight, having spent the evening eating a wonderful meal, drinking wine, watching a somewhat unedited slide show (got to address that), and then going for a short hike. Our intention was to wake at 4:30 AM to make it back to Tbilisi before 9:00 AM. I have no idea what the rush was all about, and I guess I don’t really care. The upshot, though, was that our driver awoke around three (or was it two? ) and I did too (we were in the same room). I really didn’t fall back to sleep before we all got up—me, Talia, our driver, and our tour guide—to start our drive.

 

The first part of the drive was very predictable. We were driving on the worst roads that I have ever experienced (in terms of potholes, at least), without adequate signage, and in the dark. The amazing thing was not that we got lost, which we did, but instead that we were able to get unlost and to do so without breaking an axle or denting a wheel (though who really knows how we ultimately fared mechanically). The vehicle turned out to be a Mercedes-Benz van (a “1000”) and it had a verrrrry long-travel suspension. It needed every centimeter of that travel. Indeed, we only bottomed out the vehicle, or the shocks, two or three times on the entire trip. Still, much wear and tear, no doubt, must have occurred. At least our driver seemed to really enjoy the trip, seemingly as much as we did.

 

On exiting the little town where we had been staying—heck, upon exiting the entire region—we finally made it onto fairly smooth pavement that allowed much higher speeds. Still, we did manage to drive the van off the road at least once after returning to smooth pavement. I saw it coming. Too fast, too tight a turn (sweeping and downhill), and too high a center of gravity. But how do you shout, “Please slow down!” in Goergian? I certainly don’t know, and at some point one is beyond where doing so really is going to make a whole lot of difference. Fortunately, it was a well-handling vehicle and the shoulder was in pretty good shape. The upshot is that the craziness of our driving seemed to increase in inverse proportion to our distance from Tbilisi. So it is only consistent that we should finally lose control just outside of the city.

 

“The genome is not, in any sense whatsoever, a scale model of the body. It is a set of instructions which, if faithfully obeyed in the right order and under the right conditions, will result in a body.   I have previously used the metaphor of a cake.  When you make a cake you may, in some sense, say that you are ‘translating’ from recipe to cake.  But it is an irreversible process.  You cannot dissect a cake and thereby reconstruct the original recipe.  There is no one-to-one reversible mapping from words of recipe to crumbs of cake.  This is not to say that a killed cook could not achieve a passable reversal, by taking a cake presented to him and matching its taste and properties against his own past experience of cakes and recipes, and the conconstructing the recipe.  But that would be a kind of mental selection procedure, and would in no sense be a translation from cake to recipe.” p. 175, Dawkins, 1999.

 

The Last Supper, Sunday, November 21, 2004.

 

Much of the rest of the day was spent fairly sick. This was not so much a hangover as indigestion. A combination of strange foods, strange water, little sleep, too much alcohol, and various impacts that all of the above had on my bowel movements. Fortunately, I was able to manage a pit stop when we dropped off our guide at her flat (by the way, if you into exploring relics of early Georgian Christianity, she is somebody to hire). Then there was the coffee with our driver at his place. We just barely made it into Naomi’s place for round two in the “water closet.” To do that, and I very much needed to do that, we had to wake them. This started their day, a Sunday, at a little after nine, a day for them that wouldn’t end until about 2:00 AM the following morning and which, as I will describe subsequently, may very well have started again too early the following morning, all on my account. Sorry!

 

Where was I? Oh yes, so Sunday was spent feeling really, really crappy. “Broken” I believe was an appropriate word that we came to for describing the state. Drinking water and then green tea, taking a bath, changing into clean clothes, eating a small meal. These helped, but not enormously. Unfortunately, this was a day also dominated by needing to pack for the trip home and taking care of a very bored child (note to self: the rest of the homework must be completed before the books are read).

 

Fortunately, things began to turn around with dinner, and a wonderful soup. The rest of the meal, and the wine, also were restorative, delightful, and wholly appreciated. The meal ended on an intense note, however, as first the conversation was a recap of an earlier one on the behavioral consequences of internal fertilization (and, yes, you do know what I’m talking about, but no, you probably are thinking of different consequences from the ones that I had in mind). Fortunately or unfortunately, the conversation veered off from evolutionary biology to religion. I’ve been all through this, again and again, over my career as an evolutionary biologist. Sill, we did come up with some interesting philosophical nuggets.

 

The first was the question of why religion—particularly in the U.S.—and science parted ways some time during the 19th century from what previously had been a unified whole. I argued that science simply became more difficult to comprehend, so therefore was more difficult to appreciate by the lay public. Religion, particularly at a highly over-simplified level, appears to be much more readily grasped, so the public began to become increasing divided into those two ends of the spectrum, the well and broadly educated at one end and the poorly or narrowly educated at the other. However, a difference here is that even the well educated began to have trouble being learned in all fields, so naturally specialization began in which some people were scientists and others simply were not. Many of the latter were also among the religious. It wouldn’t surprise me that the clergy ultimately is as much to blame as any group for the resulting split since clearly had the clergy enthusiastically repeated scientific reasoning from the pulpit there probably never would have been such a split that we would now be having this argument. And why shouldn’t the clergy have fully embraced scientific thinking? It is not as though clergy ever stick solely to relaying ancient philosophies and what is understanding science if not the closest thing to understanding God’s world? In other words, the split, I would argue, is an entirely artificial one that is a consequence of an education system, particularly in the U.S., that does a really, really, really, really bad job of teaching both science and philosophy. I would argue, very strongly, that the real split is not between science and religion but between abstract thinking—whether in science or in religion—and a lack of abstract thinking.

 

Naturally, this argument turned to the question of why Darwin played such a large role in exacerbating what already was the growing split between God and science. The popular argument was that Darwin rejected God on scientific grounds. But that is not incorrect. If science is all about understanding God’s world then how can science take one further from God? What could possibly bring one closer to a creator than the study of creation? Isn’t that what the study of holy texts is all about? How could it possibly be closer to God on the one hand to study His word while on the other to reject the study of His creation? Is this a verbal versus non-verbal thing? Studying words is good. Studying anything else is bad? Indeed, perhaps this just another one of those patriarchy versus diversity things: father figure good, everything else inferior and/or to be disenfranchised.

 

Not that I am arguing that the techniques of science and religion are identical (nor necessarily even similar), but instead I see most arguments that posit a profound distinction between scientific and religious world views as not all that well thought out.  They tend to boil down to something to the effect of “I was told that science (or religion) is bad and therefore it must be.”

 

Apparently the real reason that Darwin rejected God and religion was based on a religious rather than scientific argument. How can there be such suffering in the world if there is a God? The obvious answer is that apparently mere mortals are not privy to answering such questions. But one response to the “suffering” question can be a rejection of religion, and that is what Darwin did. This split was then exacerbated by a confusion by the public between science and technology. People developed a misguided faith in technologies (a philosophy that is somewhat a kin to materialism) that was bound to backfire (think of this as worshipping business people, politicians, and arm-chair generals—disappointment was inevitable). If technology is bad (it is not necessarily bad, instead it is greed and ignorance that are bad—imagine lack of scientific appreciation coupled with run-away capitalism) and technology is science (it is not), then it follows that science is bad, particularly if poorly scientifically trained leaders choose to educate their followers by emphasizing what they perceive to be the downside of science rather than the awe. This gets back to an earlier argument. Obviously if these same leaders actually cared about God’s creation then they would take the time and make the effort to study and then speak to modern man’s understanding of God’s creation. Why isn’t this routinely done within religious institutions, or for that matter, to a large extent even within (U.S.) K-12 educational institutions? It is all too easy to speculate that perhaps the purpose of modern religion simply is not a celebration of the modern understanding of God’s creation.

 

The second thing that we played with is fun mainly because it introduced existentialism to poor Talia, my nine-year-old daughter. What, I asked, is the nature of reality? This is really a question of what one’s perception of that nature might be. To a baby an item not sensed is an item that doesn’t exist. At some point, however, we realize that we can extrapolate from past experience as well as recent trajectories. The item is not gone from the universe, but instead is simply no longer within our range of perception. And there the whole progression ends for most of us. But then, I asked, what if things we no longer can sense really have disappeared, only to reappear once we again sense the them? Pretty freaky, but how do we prove otherwise? (unless, of course, we demand consistent application of known physical laws in our universe—but who are we to demand such a thing?). Then there is the biggy. How can we be sure that what we do perceive really does exist? What is existence? Again, who knows.

 

Well, a well trained evolutionary biologist ought to be able to answer that question:  Reality is those things that can impact on the Darwinian fitness of our genes—but that, surprisingly, is not the point I’m trying to make.

 

Later, as I struggled endlessly with a balky Georgian internet connection, Talia came to me to say that she found it troubling to question reality. She preferred certainty to uncertainty. Well, yes Talia, we all do. But that doesn’t mean that we can be certain of much of the anything. Welcome to the real world and, yes, we are all very, very proud and impressed by your intellectual prowess!

 

The conversation at the table ended with a well-stated summation of how the two perspectives, that of religion and that of science, are different given a lack of good training and perhaps also imagination. I really can’t recall what exactly I said. Ah, such is the upside as well as the downside of good wine.

 

That evening I spent an hour or so at an internet café sending off a much needed e-mail and printing out a paper that I very much must read sometime before Tuesday. There I met an American who had been living in Tbilisi for a dozen years. He expressed strong disgust of the 56 or so million Americans who voted with the majority this November 2. I believe the word “stupid” was his dominant adjective. I pointed out that those 56 million Americans obviously believe that George Bush is a good man who can lead the country well (yah right, and I also believe in an incompatibility between God and science). Instead, I countered, that the really stupid Americans are those who don’t/didn’t vote. Challenge me on that assertion. I dare you! I double dare you!!

 

So now we’ve landed in Amsterdam. The rest of the evening, yesterday, was spent preparing to leave and spending our last time together. Traveling sure is such strange business. New experiences demand, I suppose, a loss of old experience. Bye guys. We sure are going to miss you.

 

I never quite got to why I fear that I will be responsible, from afar (action at a distance?) for waking up our hosts too early this Monday morning. I’ll get to it, and then to the missing 1.5 days spent in Western Georgia. Right now, though, I have to deal with deplaning, after getting in only about a solid hour or so of sleep this past evening, flying from Tbilisi to Amsterdam. On to exploring Amsterdam, again, for a few hours in the rain!

 

“…the relationship between a gene and its phenotypic effect is not an intrinsic property of the gene, but a property of the forward developmental consequences of the gene when interacting with the consequences of many other genes and many external factors.” p. 176, Dawkins, 1999.

 

Now back to our regularly schedule trip diary…

 

9:35 EST (but still over the Atlantic), Monday, November 22, 2004. So we never made it out of the airport at Amsterdam, second time through. Our troubles began at the bag lockers, which wouldn’t work for us no matter what we did. That took up time, and we didn’t have all that much time. Then there was the fact that it was raining and, well, it occurred to me that it would have been a real bummer were we to miss our flight back to the states. This is especially so given that we have these great seats. They are right across from the lavatory, which most people probably would hate, but I find very convenient, especially for getting up and having a stretch. More important, that puts us two abreast with Talia at the window and me on the aisle (though unfortunately for Talia, we are also over the wing, but it will turn out to be overcast for nearly the entire trip so no great views lost from up high). Boy does that beat stuck somewhere in the middle of the middle seats. Yuck! You would almost think that we were trying. Even better, we both enjoyed our meals and the in-flight movies. We’re even nearly halfway to Washington. Let’s just hope we make it through customs relatively quickly. OK, back to yesterday…

 

So, let’s see. We were saying goodbye. I can’t even recall if we said, Thank you. Thank you! We were all very tired by then. As we headed to the airport by taxi my mind wandered (that’s our tax, in the photo to the above-left that I by chance photographed going by the institute on a previous day). I felt that I really ought to be paying attention to Tbilisi for one last time this trip, but it’s hard to do much of anything when you’ve been awake for something like 20+ hours. As we were driven my mind was drifting, walking through the recent events, and then it hit me. Merde! Were we going to be responsible for waking them up yet again? The answer, as I write this, is that I don’t know. But this is the story…

 

It might have been our first night in town. Naomi was walking us to Liana’s for dinner when we passed by a lovely flower/plant shop sitting just around the corner from her place. She pointed out a plant (a Norwalk Pine) which she said she was hoping to buy since it reminded her of where she grew up in Washington state. The following Sunday, our first in Tbilisi, as Talia and I walked from yet another wonderful meal at Liana’s, we stopped by the shop to inquire how much it would cost us to buy the little tree for Naomi. We hesitated, however, because we really didn’t want to have her receiving the plant until after we left (one of those host-guest things).

 

I spent the week off and on trying to figure out how to sneak back to the store and covertly acquire the plant. Fortunately, on our last Sunday in Tbilisi (yesterday as I write this; how could it be only yesterday?), Talia and I were left alone as we were packing (well, as I was packing). I snuck off to the plant store with the intention of brining back the plant and then hiding it in an obvious place where they could find it after we were gone. However, when I got to the store the plant was gone. Dang! Until I realized that it wasn’t gone but instead had been moved, to the floor. Recognizing me, the people in the store tried to explain something. Fortunately there was a woman visiting (same as the previous Sunday) who spoke English. She explained that the plant had been sold but had not yet been picked up. I thought that was odd, but didn’t think about it much (thing being Georgia, though, she also thought that it was odd). We then hatched an alternative plan whereby a different example of the same plant could be brought from another part of town and it could be brought over later to the shop to be subsequently delivered to Naomi (since by then we would be gone). That worked for me, except that I didn’t know Naomi’s address. Since it was close by I walked down with one of the shop girls to ascertain the address from the security guards at Naomi’s place. This turned into a lengthy process. There really is good reason that Naomi never told me her address—I’m not sure that it can be told, in English at least.

 

Having ascertained an address we returned to the shop whereupon I paid for the plant, filled out a card, and then picked up two throw-away plastic pots to help protect some things that I was packing. We laughed about how crazy this all was and then I left, walked 50 or so feet, and there was Naomi and her beau. Now at this point it suddenly became obvious to me that in fact it was they who had purchased the plant, leaving it there while they attended church, with an intention to pick it up upon returning. I stopped, leaned against a car to say hi, with my two pots slightly hidden from their view. But those, of course, were the perfect cover so when they inquired into what I was up to I produced the pots (which, by the way, have their own story that I’ll try to get to). That worked wonderfully, for the moment at least, and I heading back to the apartment while they, I assume, went to the plant store to pick up their plant.

 

When I got back I told Talia the story and told her not to tell Naomi (though Talia really has trouble not blurting out these things, she did a fairly good job of keeping our secret). I have no idea whether the evidence was also obvious to Naomi et al. once they got to the store, especially since I’m not sure the employees understood the connection between us, so presumably were only too happy to share the odd “coincidence.” At any rate, Naomi never let on that she knew. But later that day she did come home with two identical clay pots, which I was only too willing to hypothesize were for two identical plants (it is an odd feeling of lives overlapping but not entirely; Naomi came into the apartment and immediately brought the pots into her bedroom, not sharing them but not hiding them from us either, but I did see two pots going by from my vantage at the other end the apartment). The only problem is that we kept Naomi up until 2:00 AM, until what is now early this morning. I’m sure that no matter how late Georgian’s consider “early” morning, the plant I paid to have delivered very well may arrive while they’re still asleep. Oh well…

 

“One does not have to be clairvoyant to prophesy… the rise of a flourishing new discipline of ‘prokaryotic sociobiology.” p. 178, Dawkins, 1999

 

The rest of Friday, and all of Saturday (and then that’s that). 784 miles to go and we’re in Washington, and then it’s time to finish up this diary. Chronologically we were driving down the road on our way to Western Georgia. Our first stop, other than for photographing the Caucuses, was a small church only about 100 years old. I don’t know what it was called nor where it was located (note to self: find a map of Georgia). I suppose that I should figure this out. Our guide, Tina, asked me what I would like to be seeing on the trip. I kept replying that I didn’t know nor really care, and that therefore we could do whatever she wanted to do. As a result, we visited four more churches that day. One was high on cliffs carved out by a river. The next was the most spectacular of them all, Gelati Monastery, full of frescoes and mosaics, some 100 feet off the ground. I’m not sure what to say about it so instead I took lots of photos (though not of the interior art—how could I do justice to it anyway?) We then visited a minor Russian orthodox church (the rest were all Georgian orthodox) with an interesting grave yard. Again, I’ve much more to say in photos than in prose (yes, this is one of the photographer’s burdens—a loss of words). Finally was the runis of a church/castle that we reached just as the sun was setting. I’ve still got photos, though almost all of them are one-second exposures. Very mysterious (and amost overwhelmingly spectacular). As we left I couldn’t figure out how to open the gate and was helped by a women who at first was puzzled by our cluelessness but then left with a very well pronounced good bye. We thanked her profusely and then once again were on our way.

 

 

Having visited the various churches/castles/monasteries, and with the sun now set, it was time to head off for the evening’s destination. This so far as I could understand was a smallish village where our tour guide once had family and still had friends. After what seemed like hours of driving on what seemed like the most disrepaired (but still passable) roads on Earth (and at some point stopping to buy bread), we stopped in front of a dark house on a dark lane next to a dark mountain. Thus began 36 hours of partying, Georgian style.

 

After numerous beepings of the bus horn we finally drew some attention to ourselves and out of this dark house on a dark lane came people. Apparently they hadn’t had electricity since 10 AM the previous day. Apparently no electricity is a very common experience around this town. So, without missing a beat, they invited us in for a impromptu feast and hours of drinking which was followed  by a little exploring of surrounding hills and even more drinking while visiting a second family (and when I say drinking, what I really mean is toast after toast after toast, Georgian style, that was in addition to the merely drinking of wine with a meal that accompanied the toasting with distilled beverages). The next morning—we slept well through the night, at least until the rooster awaked us—I found myself exploring rural Georgia, post-Soviet style, with calves, and chickens, and pigs, and maize, and grapes, and ducks, and a Soviet tractor, and even an abandoned house being used to store silage. Not quite self sufficiency, but about as close as I’m likely to experience again any time soon. These people live very close to the Earth, and I have lots of photos to prove this.

 

 

Breakfast was very similar to the previous night’s dinner, with a number of dishes and freshly baked corn bread, cheese bread, pickles, etc. Yummy! I’m not complaining, not by any stretch of the imagination. Indeed, I was warned that Georgia would be like this, and I didn’t see then nor see now how that would be a problem. However, while the previous evening we had both wine and distilled spirits (and then even stronger spirits when we went on that walk into the hills), this morning it was just spirits. There was again more food than I could possibly eat, all quite delicious, and toast after toast after toast. By the time we were done with breakfast I was drunk enough to remain so almost until dinner (when we did it all over again, though I insisted by then on sticking with just wine). Replaying it all in my mind I realize that we essentially had four parties (equivalents) over an approximately 24 hour period. Man, it’s a good thing that I don’t vacation in Georgia for a living.

 

 

That day was one of the most amazing of a life of adventure. We spent it—seven of us: me, Talia, our guide, our driver, and three members of the family who we were staying with, a brother, a wife, and a sister (though honestly I’m still confused about just who was related to whom or, at least, how). We spent the day driving up a long canyon to mineral springs, apparently once famous with much infrastructure, but now in growing disrepair (like everywhere else). We visited a fish farm, explored a waterfall, drank mineral water, and took hundreds photographs, with me well toasted the entire time. Naturally I showed little forethought, though I don’t really even remember leaving on the excursion (or, at least, I was not sure of where we were going), so I failed to bring along extra batteries for the camera. This had me conserving batteries when I should have been taking photo after photo. But still, I took many photos, all of which still are in need of culling. As for any altered state, the bliss of the day defies explanation. You can only imagine from similar experiences of your own, ones spent with good company and good drink in spectacular surroundings. Just smile.

 

 

As we drove back, my sobriety slowly returning, we picked up passengers who needed rides down the mountain. They were surprised the first time I yelled “stop!” What is this with somebody screaming out in a foreign tongue and the driver obeying, stopping the van clearly in the middle of nowhere? Then I’d get out of the bus, take a few photos, and then went back in to show the best of them to our passengers. This went on for some time and think they figured out fairly quickly that they were simply hitchhiking on some sort of chartered excursion. We all had a grand time and at least one of our passengers said, “Thank you” to me as they were leaving.

 

We returned home, had an even more spectacular meal, with lots of drink. By a bit after midnight I was asleep, and then up again three hours later. You know the rest. We’re about  an hour from the states now. You don’t need to hear about our domestic connections (I hope). Here’s to Georgia.

 

 

Steve

 

P.S., While crossing the Atlantic one of the videos shown was about Georgia. Now mind you , we were flying back from Amsterdam, not from Tbilisi. Coincidence?

 

P.P.S., As I write this (two days after Thanksgiving—five days after returning) we have yet to see the bags that we checked onto the plane in Tbilisi.


P.P.P.S., I’ve declared that I’m not going to touch alcohol again for the rest of the year. So far I’ve kept true to my word. But it isn’t that hard given how little alcohol is being consumed by those around me.

 

P.P.P.P.S., Best line upon returning: “As a person who has just returned from the former Soviet Union, I can attest to the sorry state of democracy in American.”

 

“Nature, she does not so much select special variations as exterminate the most unfavourable ones…” p. 180, Dawkins, 1999

 

Packing for the next one: It is when one find oneself in the heat of battle that one sees the world most clearly, and this metaphor most certainly applies to packing for a trip. There is always a blur at the beginning that comes from a combination of naivety, time pressures, and excessive ambition. Besides, it is very difficult to fight the tendency to bring something along just so one can avoid buying anew at one’s destination. The following, then is a list of things that should have been brought, which I had hoped (but never got around to) would be followed with a list of things that need not have been brought.

 

Things that should have been brought (many of which were; those that should be on the plane are indicated with an asterisk):

 

·        Yellow The North Face daypack (rather than fullsize pack).

·        Some sort of durable carry on bag (e.g., yellow Pivot bag).

·        One and ideally two (if more than one person is traveling) or larger bags for bringing home the inevitable more stuff that you left with.

·        Laptop computer—need not be terribly fast. Lightness/portability/battery life/hard drive size are more important criteria (PIII 300 with Windows 98 is my minimal system, which I find to be quite adequate, ideally with at least a 6 Gbyte hard drive and at least 128 Mbyte RAM).

o       Flash memory card that plugs into USB port and various versions of driver software for it for numerous operating systems on CD.

o       Back up CDs of operating system and major software.

o       Back up CDs for stuff you will be working on, if any.

o       Load onto computer MS Office (including PowerPoint), image-manipulation software, graphing software (though I suppose Excel will do in a pinch), reference-handling software, and camera-interfacing software.

o       The computer needs at least two functional batteries, fully charged at the beginning of the trip

o       One needs to have some sort of converter so that the computer can be plugged in not only at one’s destination but also at long layovers along the way. It is nice to have a converter that you plug more than one thing into at a time, and don’t forget that you may need to be able to deal with three-prong plugs.

·        A lightweight set, non-bulky set of headphones that can be plugged into the computer is nice especially if you are using the computer to brush up on your conversational language skills.

·        Camera.

o       Unless you are absolutely positive that you will be able to charge your camera’s batteries along the way you should bring six sets of batteries, all fully charged at the beginning.

o       Battery charger, perhaps more than one.

o       At least two 512 Mbyte memory cards for the camera.

o       Lens paper.

o       Stuff for downloading images.

·        Depending on climate, a warm vest and warm long-sleeve jacket (e.g., fleece for both).

·        If colder, then also bring a set of synthetic long underwear as well as gloves, a jacket, and a hat.

·        One long-sleeve button down shirt that is good for casual wear but can be used for more formal in a pinch.

·        Two cotton t-shirts, one long-sleeved and one short-sleeved. Bring something that you can wear almost anywhere.

·        At least three sets of socks and at least three sets of underwear.

·        A lightweight set of pants that can be folded down to next to nothing that can also be used for more formal in a pinch (though I’ve yet to take the thing out of its stuff sack on this trip).

·        I still find carrying a lightweight sleeping bag that can take you down to freezing (with all of your clothes on) to be a nice convenience, though it really does need to be very light and also needs to be stuffed to very small proportions.

·        The lightest of thermarests also seems to be a nice thing to have along, just in case you need to sleep on a floor. I brought one on this trip, between two people (on the assumption that one of us might need to sleep on a floor), but so far haven’t used it.

·        For the plane bring only a single bag of about one-pound of gorp (between two people). Anything more is superfluous.

·        Bring a single, small bag of organic baby carrots, also for the plane.

·        Bring one book.

·        Bring one diary.

·        Bring lots of business cards.

·        Bring lots of pens.

·        Bring hair rubber bands which, if nothing else, will be used to tie together charged pairs of camera batteries.

·        Bring a single, very small if possible, flashlight, ideally something that can use your camera batteries for power.

·        Sunglasses and extra set of regular glasses, plus at least two crush-resistant cases, one for each pair of glasses.

·        Passports.

·        Money.

·        Compass.

·        Maps if you can obtain them before hand.

·        Fanny pack that can carry water bottles.

·        Two full water bottles.

·        Addresses and numbers of people who you will be visiting.

 

“God and natural selection are… the only two workable theories we have of why we exist.” p. 181, Dawkins, 1999

 

“Individuals do not consciously strive to maximize anything; they behave as if maximizing something.” p. 188, Dawkins, 1999