Today was for the most part spent doing documentation and getting the booklet printed out.
The booklet.-
The rationale behind the instructional take away booklet is that I wanted to produce something that anyone throughout the world could use to be able to create a bike generator. I have not yet in my research have found distinctive step by step how to plans on producing power from a bicycle. Also language becomes a barrier and since putting up the site I have heard from people from several countries that speak very little English interested in knowing more about being able to empower themselves through power on demand. So I have created the document to be completely graphic based to assist people in walking through the instructions. I have checked this with several people and made many corrections to hopefully make it as easy to get through as possible. The other interesting factor is planning out a document that does not rely on color to assist you in moving through it. So now we have a fully image based, black and white document that explains how to take apart a bike, build your own stand, and hook up a generator to a series of lights. It was a very good design challenge and directly related to my thesis. Knowledge is the first step at empowering people and empowerment is the first step for people to take charge of their own lives and create their own source of energy.
With a stack of 50 take-away booklets sitting on my desk in A-1 format we walk down to “Viva” market and purchased the light bulbs that we need for Friday. It was very interesting to walk around the market; so much of culture is based on the food they eat. For one thing peanut butter is almost non-existent here, when I asked some locals if they have ever had it, they say yes but they don’t like it and would prefer Nutella. We shop around for awhile and make our purchases.
Based on quality of the ginger cookies I ate that night I also think that I was born to be eastern European. The amount of sugar in even the sugary things here seems be half that of what I have found in the US. That is not to say that they do not have twenty variations on the Kit Kat bar that have never seen the shelves in our country, but overall the feeling I have received thus far has been of less sugar. We walked down Mother Teresa blvd and discuss that even though it would be interesting to duck into some shops, neither one of us are really the shopping type. My wonderful host then takes me to a fantastic bakery where we eat French style cheesecake for dinner and drink mint tea. The cheesecake and conversation were wonderful until I heard a strange smacking sound from behind me. I take a quick glance and a younger couple are going full boar into a make out session. Beings that we are the only two tables in the restaurant this feels a bit awkward and last way too long. After dinner we take a very relaxing walk back up the hill to campus in a complete downpour. I had a raincoat with me but refused to wear because my walking partner was without one and I thought it to be a bit rude to be dry while watching someone else completely dripping.
Monday started after a great night of sleep, I woke up with the intention of meeting Hasan to try to find generators for the Pedal Power workshop I am running coming up on Friday. Walked down stairs and left my key with the hotel (it’s just what they do here), he offered me a breakfast and noticed that I was in a hurry so he mentioned that by no means did I have to eat so I took the offer and went about my way.
I arrived at the school and was given a lap top to use for the next few days and then met up with Hasan, we agreed to meet after lunch and he would take me to “his guy.” I went to office and started the long process of documentation for the trip and the upcoming conference.
I meet up with Hasan at the agreed upon time and we jump in the AUK SUV and here we go. While driving, he talks to me about how he used to work on cars and was quite familiar with what I was doing, which put me at ease a bit. He also talks about the importance of the idea of power on demand and how he has tried successfully before to make his own windmill out of bike parts. He also mentioned how strange it feels to have gone so far backwards during his time here. He has grown up here and lived here through the war and is now seeing the aftermath. He talks about a time that there was not power shortages and the streets were not all torn up. He says it’s never been a bad place to live but now he sees more people that need work. The thought had not occurred to that was actually a time before the war, a time when people were happier and did not have to worry about not having enough electricity or their water shutting off from time to time. Hasan sounds optimistic and tells me that he sees things getting better all time, but with improvement come trouble. All the new technology that keeps coming out such as computers and cell phones all takes up mass amounts of energy. When the energy that they have for the day is used up then they must go without. At times that can be hours or at critical moments or when they need heat for their homes.
We continue twisting around the streets and head up a large hill to a narrow street where Hasan asks me to get out, because if I did not I would not be able to after he parks. I get out and look down below at the city then at the yard that has now popped up where a house used to be. From where I am it’s about a 20 foot fall to the yard and the old foundation. I shimmy up the sidewalk toward a man who is eyeing Hasan and assisting him park and then I hear a loud crack. I hope that these guys are old friends because Hasan just rammed into the front of what seems to be this guy’s car. In most places in New York if this was to happen someone would most certainly lose their temper, but in this situation it all seems fine. The man signals me to follow him into this open garage with the skeleton of a 67 ford mustang rusted out with green paint on it sitting in the middle. He immediately starts speaking to me…in Armenian. I wait politely for him to finish and give him a queer look and say excuse me. He stares at me and snickers; Hasan is here now and starts to help translate. The man shows me two old generators that have been pulled from what I think would have to be old Volks Wagons. I think they should work and he is insistent this will do the trick. He also tells me that he is going to mount them to the bike stands so that they have maximum tension. He is speaking my language without a word of English. His shop for having enough junk in it to get whatever scrap that you need is nicely organized and quite clean. It is very reminiscent of the Rochester community bikes organization. I try to thank him gratefully because he has basically down everything I was nervous about doing myself. In fact there was very little that I have actually had to do myself while I have been here. In one sense has been disappointing, and in another sense has been wonderful to see that everyone is excited enough to help out with this. We leave the generators with him and go to the next shop to buy some electrical cable and tape. As we are parking I noticing all the people just hanging around the city, the time is about 1:30pm so I sort of shrug it off to a late lunch. When we walk into the shop, it’s a little smaller then my hotel room and has a very familiar smell of cigars. I pick some cable and we decide if we need tape then we walk out. I am sort wondering why we did not have to pay or how we have really not paid for anything today. I have heard people explain to me that Hasan is just someone who is connected, so I hesitate and still ask “so how come we have not had to pay for anything yet?” Hasan explains it me and sheds a whole lot of light about how things work there. It’s nothing suspicious or illegal, but still I am not going to go blabbing about it on the internet. With that we go back up the hill to the campus and he tells me about how he loves his job more than anything, sometimes, he says it is hard because you have to do some jobs that you do not really want to do but the good stuff very much outweighs the bad stuff.
For dinner that night we ate at a small Italian style restaurant down town and I get risotto with mixed seafood. Sven drops by and we get free Raki, this one is more the true style, and taste of anise. This is something that is good for one round a night; I don’t think you would ever want more than one. We stay and talk for four hours and then head home.
I arrived at the school and was given a lap top to use for the next few days and then met up with Hasan, we agreed to meet after lunch and he would take me to “his guy.” I went to office and started the long process of documentation for the trip and the upcoming conference.
I meet up with Hasan at the agreed upon time and we jump in the AUK SUV and here we go. While driving, he talks to me about how he used to work on cars and was quite familiar with what I was doing, which put me at ease a bit. He also talks about the importance of the idea of power on demand and how he has tried successfully before to make his own windmill out of bike parts. He also mentioned how strange it feels to have gone so far backwards during his time here. He has grown up here and lived here through the war and is now seeing the aftermath. He talks about a time that there was not power shortages and the streets were not all torn up. He says it’s never been a bad place to live but now he sees more people that need work. The thought had not occurred to that was actually a time before the war, a time when people were happier and did not have to worry about not having enough electricity or their water shutting off from time to time. Hasan sounds optimistic and tells me that he sees things getting better all time, but with improvement come trouble. All the new technology that keeps coming out such as computers and cell phones all takes up mass amounts of energy. When the energy that they have for the day is used up then they must go without. At times that can be hours or at critical moments or when they need heat for their homes.
We continue twisting around the streets and head up a large hill to a narrow street where Hasan asks me to get out, because if I did not I would not be able to after he parks. I get out and look down below at the city then at the yard that has now popped up where a house used to be. From where I am it’s about a 20 foot fall to the yard and the old foundation. I shimmy up the sidewalk toward a man who is eyeing Hasan and assisting him park and then I hear a loud crack. I hope that these guys are old friends because Hasan just rammed into the front of what seems to be this guy’s car. In most places in New York if this was to happen someone would most certainly lose their temper, but in this situation it all seems fine. The man signals me to follow him into this open garage with the skeleton of a 67 ford mustang rusted out with green paint on it sitting in the middle. He immediately starts speaking to me…in Armenian. I wait politely for him to finish and give him a queer look and say excuse me. He stares at me and snickers; Hasan is here now and starts to help translate. The man shows me two old generators that have been pulled from what I think would have to be old Volks Wagons. I think they should work and he is insistent this will do the trick. He also tells me that he is going to mount them to the bike stands so that they have maximum tension. He is speaking my language without a word of English. His shop for having enough junk in it to get whatever scrap that you need is nicely organized and quite clean. It is very reminiscent of the Rochester community bikes organization. I try to thank him gratefully because he has basically down everything I was nervous about doing myself. In fact there was very little that I have actually had to do myself while I have been here. In one sense has been disappointing, and in another sense has been wonderful to see that everyone is excited enough to help out with this. We leave the generators with him and go to the next shop to buy some electrical cable and tape. As we are parking I noticing all the people just hanging around the city, the time is about 1:30pm so I sort of shrug it off to a late lunch. When we walk into the shop, it’s a little smaller then my hotel room and has a very familiar smell of cigars. I pick some cable and we decide if we need tape then we walk out. I am sort wondering why we did not have to pay or how we have really not paid for anything today. I have heard people explain to me that Hasan is just someone who is connected, so I hesitate and still ask “so how come we have not had to pay for anything yet?” Hasan explains it me and sheds a whole lot of light about how things work there. It’s nothing suspicious or illegal, but still I am not going to go blabbing about it on the internet. With that we go back up the hill to the campus and he tells me about how he loves his job more than anything, sometimes, he says it is hard because you have to do some jobs that you do not really want to do but the good stuff very much outweighs the bad stuff.
For dinner that night we ate at a small Italian style restaurant down town and I get risotto with mixed seafood. Sven drops by and we get free Raki, this one is more the true style, and taste of anise. This is something that is good for one round a night; I don’t think you would ever want more than one. We stay and talk for four hours and then head home.
After a restless night listening to the wild dog packs that patrol the neighborhood and a band that was celebrating Albanian Flag Day I awoke early and walked down town with Lyndsey and Julia to meet up with some other staff members at a small café. When walking down the streets of Pristina you are constantly stepping on top of garbage, I was informed that this was because when the country was communist, what was yours you kept in your home, what you placed on the street or in public was the problem of the government to take care of. This helps explain a lot, when looking at the store fronts you should never judge a book by its cover. The café we run into is on an ally type street and is not decimated on the outside but is not what we consider to be a typical “nice” storefront. As soon as you open the door you see that the place is immaculate and the smell of baked goods and coffee enlivens the senses. The interior design is personal and lively such as if Starbucks was a small independent store with a real fashion sense. Everything is thought out and works together, the chairs are made to sit and have long conversation, and the drinks are made with an artistic nature and sense of pride that is well deserved. I found out later after getting about half way through the best macchiato that I have ever had, that this was the first restaurant in Kosovo that you actually go up to the counter to order. That is saying a lot since it just opened two months ago. This experience continues throughout the day going from small café to small café and falling in love with stunning interiors and the amazing food.
From there I get a walking tour from a local who works with AUK, through the city down to the newly unveiled Gold Bill Clinton Statue. The statue obviously says a lot about Kosovo culture and the locals for the most part very much dislike it. My immediate assumption was that they had issue with erecting a large statue of someone from another country who has mixed reactions from his home country. I was wrong, the people that I have spoken to about it actually just really dislike that the statue looks nothing like Bill, and It literally could be anyone. It makes me think of Harrison Ford being frozen in carbonate. The hands on the statue are just enough out of proportion to make it look very odd, also there are creases in the clothing that stand out in a very stiff way to make the jacket seem as if it was made of rough cut steel. I would say this is the perfect example of fear of commitment to an idea. That being said apparently the street named after him and the two giant billboards were not enough.
That night we were invited to a house above the city with an amazing view. The other plus of this is that owners with both architects and had designed the entire loft space apartment with huge windows looking out over the city. They also make their own wine and were very generous with the tastings. It was of course fantastic.
From there I get a walking tour from a local who works with AUK, through the city down to the newly unveiled Gold Bill Clinton Statue. The statue obviously says a lot about Kosovo culture and the locals for the most part very much dislike it. My immediate assumption was that they had issue with erecting a large statue of someone from another country who has mixed reactions from his home country. I was wrong, the people that I have spoken to about it actually just really dislike that the statue looks nothing like Bill, and It literally could be anyone. It makes me think of Harrison Ford being frozen in carbonate. The hands on the statue are just enough out of proportion to make it look very odd, also there are creases in the clothing that stand out in a very stiff way to make the jacket seem as if it was made of rough cut steel. I would say this is the perfect example of fear of commitment to an idea. That being said apparently the street named after him and the two giant billboards were not enough.
That night we were invited to a house above the city with an amazing view. The other plus of this is that owners with both architects and had designed the entire loft space apartment with huge windows looking out over the city. They also make their own wine and were very generous with the tastings. It was of course fantastic.
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