One Sun, One Tree

The Berlin Perspective: Obama in Berlin

2008-08-10T23:58:00.013+02:00

While this post can just as easily be titled, "That One Guest Column That I Promised Seventeen Days Ago," I want to follow through with my promise of an on the ground perspective of the Obama speech in Berlin from earlier in July. So, without further ado, I give you that one guest column that I promised seventeen days ago.

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Much has been said about the impacts of Barack Obama’s July 24th speech in Berlin on the wider Presidential contest. In this post, I take a different tack, describing primarily the experience Obama’s appearance before the Siegessäule provided for me and the other people who were there. Along the way—especially toward the end—I offer my own nuggets of analysis, which are neither comprehensive nor necessarily shared by Franz, the owner of this blog, who kindly invited me to be his guest contributor.

In the weeks leading up to July 24th, political commentators like Roger Cohen and Matthew Yglesias worked me (and, I imagine, many other progressive Berlin-based English speakers) into a frenzy of anticipation over Obama’s upcoming appearance. But not until July 20th was the location of Obama’s speech confirmed. After much debate, particularly here in Berlin, over the appropriateness of a presidential candidate speaking before the Brandenburg Gate—previously the site of epic speeches by two actual U.S. presidents, John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan, and the backdrop that the Obama campaign initially sought—it was announced that Obama would speak at the Siegessäule, or Victory Column. This selection was itself controversial: the Siegessäule was erected as a memorial to Prussia’s military victories over France and other countries that are now, in the words of conservative Bundestag member Andreas Schockenhoff, “[Germany’s] European friends and allies.” Like so many of Berlin’s other constructions, however, the Siegessäule’s significance has changed considerably over the years. Recently it has served as a focal point for the Christopher Street Day Parade and the Love Parade—a gay pride parade and a techno music festival, respectively.

On July 24th, the security staff hired for the event by Obama’s campaign began letting people into the gated central traffic circle surrounding the Siegessäule at 4 pm, three hours before Obama would begin. My colleague Thomas and I met at the Brandenburg Gate, about a third of a mile from the Siegessäule, at 4:40 pm, and proceeded through the Gate and along the Strasse des 17. Juni, taking in the sights as we went along—including the Reichstag, seat of the German legislature and site of the mysterious fire from which Hitler snatched power in 1933, and the Soviet War Memorial, a monument to the 80,000 Soviet soldiers who died in Berlin in the final months of World War II.

The atmosphere on the street grew festive as we approached the Siegessäule, in contrast with both the somber constructions we had passed before and the serious foreign policy address we expected to hear a few hours later. Young people, many of them Americans, registered American expatriates for absentee ballots and sold non-official Obama merchandise.

The beer, bratwurst, and ice cream stands that had lined the Strasse des 17. Juni during the UEFA European Championship earlier this summer were back, and doing brisk business. From inside the traffic circle, a German reggae artist named Patrice sang of love, peace, and his distaste for George W. Bush loud enough for all of Tiergarten to hear. Fun was a clear objective of the people who had come to see Obama’s speech and, of the people who had organized it.

As I stood in line to cross the security checkpoint into the traffic circle, drinking beer and joking with my colleague Thomas, I thought to myself about the three political rallies I had attended in the United States in recent years—Howard Dean at Michigan State University in the spring of 2004, John Edwards on the Diag of the University of Michigan later that fall, Obama himself at the Campus Progress National Conference in Washington in the summer of 2006—and about how little resemblance they all bore to the party unfolding around me in Berlin. Here, unlike at the mostly gray- and navy-colored gatherings I’d seen in Michigan and Washington, people were dressed casually, in shorts, sunglasses, t-shirts, and, in some cases, signs:

The sign reads “Obama for Kanzler.” “Kanzler” means “chancellor” in German.

The relaxed mood of the crowd at the Siegessäule that afternoon did not arise from any lack of interest in the speech to be delivered. The conversations I participated in and heard around me flitted, as most conversations do, from subject to subject, but returned with frequency to the matter Obama and what he would say. Would he ask for German military support for the campaign in Afghanistan? Would he devote any considerable length of air time to the matter of climate change? Would he turn to issues outside the umbrella of America’s foreign policy—domestic issues, like the collapse of the U.S. housing market, or the record number of Americans living without health insurance—or would his speech maintain a strictly international focus?

A few minutes before 7 pm, the conversations died down, and a slight but palpable hush fell over the crowd. At 7:05, the hush gave way to restless murmuring as a cohort of well-dressed people appeared on the stage beneath the Siegessäule. And at about 7:10, Barack Obama appeared from behind a red curtain near the base of the monument, striding confidently out to his podium.

Tonight, I speak to you not as a candidate for President, but as a citizen - a proud citizen of the United States, and a fellow citizen of the world.

As his campaign staff had reiterated before the speech, and as Obama told the crowd first off, this was “not a campaign event”—though of course it was. My friend Priya put it well: Obama would not have spent large quantities of his campaign’s money on this highly publicized appearance in Berlin were he not the presumptive Democratic nominee. I completely agree with this assessment. I also understand the motive that drove Obama to call his event a non-event: he wanted dispel the claim that he’d rather preen before hundreds of thousands of foreigners than address the interests of Americans. What I don’t understand is this “preening” claim itself.

First, I find it patently ridiculous to suggest that a candidate for the presidency would seek to please non-voters in a foreign country to the exclusion of pleasing voters at home 100 days before an election.

Secondly, I don’t find it problematic for a presidential candidate to air himself before an international audience in the way that Obama did in Berlin. This wasn’t Obama “taking a premature victory lap,” as McCain’s staff claimed (click on the previous link to see the full quote). It was Obama assuring Americans and Germans alike that, as president, he would cooperate with and listen to other peoples—something that the current administration has repeatedly refused to do (on Iraq and on climate change, to name two of the most prominent examples), much to the detriment of America’s standing in the world. (And, indeed, to the detriment of its security and economic well-being.)

I wish more presidential candidates would take some campaign time to publicly air their international relations chops, as Obama did. In this utterly interdependent world, such displays of diplomatic ability give voters a crucial sense of how well a candidate will do his job (that is, serving the American people and their interests, including on the international stage), much in the way that test-driving a car on the highway gives the would-be buyer a sense of how well the car will do its job (that is, providing a safe, reliable, enjoyable ride, including at high speeds).

Following his introduction—which was greeted by the audience with a deafening round of applause—Obama launched into a ten-minute review of Germany’s post-war history, stopping periodically to call again for the sort international cooperation that marked the years of the Marshall Plan and the Berlin Airlift. Here Obama’s courtship of the American voter became yet more apparent: as several Berliners pointed out to me after the speech, Germans are intimately familiar with their own postwar history, and Obama’s rehashing of it was of little value to them. These same Germans were appreciative, however, of the speech’s emphasis on international—and especially transatlantic—
cooperation, which Obama nailed home in a passionate, cadenced diatribe against walls:

Partnership and cooperation among nations is not a choice; it is the one way, the only way, to protect our common security and advance our common humanity.
That is why the greatest danger of all is to allow new walls to divide us from one another.
The walls between old allies on either side of the Atlantic cannot stand. The walls between the countries with the most and those with the least cannot stand. The walls between races and tribes; natives and immigrants; Christian and Muslim and Jew cannot stand. These now are the walls we must tear down.

Some I spoke with after the speech criticized Obama for being excessively vague and, particularly in the “walls” passage, for failing to discuss how he plans to bring down all these walls. I mostly agree with this assessment. Obama and his staff repeatedly assured the world that he was “not” in Germany to “campaign,” and laying forth detailed U.S. foreign policy prescriptions in Berlin would have opened this claim of theirs to some truly withering scrutiny.

All the same, when one considers the things Obama said in Berlin in the context of the policy goals he has outlined while campaigning in the U.S., it becomes clear that Obama had some very concrete steps in mind as he spoke beneath the Siegessäule, even if he didn’t enumerate these steps explicitly. Indeed, without going into numerical detail, Obama made clear to his Berlin audience that, as President, he would dramatically expand and improve the U.S.'s participation in the Kyoto Process; create a NATO-esque "global partnership to dismantle [terrorist] networks;" renew U.S. military and humanitarian efforts in Afghanistan, while also doing his best to attract the support of Germany and other European countries for those efforts; get U.S. troops out of Iraq; step up the monitoring of nuclear weapons; and reform the international trade regime to make it "free and fair for all." All of these assurances corresponded clearly with platform stances Obama had taken in the past weeks and months, and one must simply go to his website to read detailed, target- and number-filled versions of these assurances.

Obama’s appearance in Berlin was the successful climax of an even more successful seven-nation tour. From Baghdad, where Obama and Iraqi Prime Minister Nuri Al-Maliki agreed on the need for a timed withdrawal of U.S. troops from Iraq, to Amman, Jordan, where Obama and an enamored King Abdullah hit it off while traveling together in the King’s own Mercedes, to Paris, where Nicolas Sarkozy stated that “France will be delighted” if Obama wins in November, the world welcomed and encouraged Obama with uncommon warmth. The reason for this warmth is partially summarized, I believe, by the inscription on a button I saw being sold by hawkers as Obama spoke:

Ich kann zuhören. I can listen. Eight years of a stubborn and ultimately destabilizing American foreign policy—a policy that once categorized the rest of the world’s leaders as either “with us or against us” in the war on terror, that scorned Europe’s input in the runup to the invasion of Iraq, and that has been willing to negotiate with Iran only on conditions highly unfavorable to Iranians—has left the world thirsty for an American president willing to listen, consider, and cooperate, if not always to agree. For the 200,000 who cheered at the Siegessäule on July 24th, and for a roster of strategic allies in Iraq, Jordan, and France, Obama stands to be this president.

A t-shirt that speaks volumes.

The man himself.

Thomas, my colleague.

Christopher, a friend I met at the speech.
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Today's guest contributor, Chris, is a recent graduate of the University of Michigan, where he majored in political science and environmental science. Chris, one of ten American interns for the Transatlantic Renewable Energy Exchange, is currently living in Berlin, where he works for Deutsche Energie-Agentur GmbH.

Book Review: Three Cups of Tea

2008-08-05T10:21:00.006+02:00

Bashir pause to watch a live CNN feed from Baghdad. Staring at a small video window inset into the flight manifests scrolling down his monitor, Bashir was struck silent by the images of wailing Iraqi women carrying children’s bodies out of the rubble of a bombed building.
As he studied the screen, Bashir’s bullish shoulders slumped. “People like me are America’s best friends in the region,” Bashir said at last, shaking his head ruefully. “I’m a moderate Muslim, an educated man. But watching this, even I could become a jihadi. How can Americans say they are making themselves safer?” Bashir asked, struggling not to direct his anger toward the large American target on the other side of his desk. “Your President Bush has done a wonderful job of uniting one billion Muslims against America for the next tow hundred years.”
“Osama had something to do with it, too,” Mortenson said.
“Osama, baah!” Bashir roared. “Osama is not a product of Pakistan or Afghanistan. He is a creation of America. Thanks to America, Osama is in every home. As a military man, I know you can never fight and win against someone who can shoot at you once and then run off and hide while you have to remain eternally on guard. You have to attack the source of your enemy’s strength. In America’s case, that’s not Osama or Saddam or anyone else. The enemy is ignorance. The only way to defeat it is to build relationships with these people, to draw them into the modern world with education and business. Otherwise the fight will go on forever.”

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I first learned of Three Cups of Tea when I found this excerpt on my friend Ali's facebook, followed by the qualifying note: If you haven't read (this book), stop your life now, and READ IT. Please.

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Three Cups of Tea recounts the many adventures of Ted Mortenson, a Minnesotan Lutheran of whom Garrison Keillor would be all too proud. While the story dances in chronological fluidity from Tanzania to Minnesota to San Francisco/Berkley to Pakistan to Montana, the bulk of the story takes place in the Himalayan protected (and cut-off) villages of Pakistan. It is here that Mortenson, an avid mountaineer, attempts the super human feat of summiting K2, one of the world's tallest and most dangerous mountains.

Upon his descent of K2, Mortenson's entire life takes a new path. He winds up in the wrong village bewildered and exhausted, only to be welcomed with open arms by an entire village. In his attempt to thank the hospitable Baltian villagers, Mortenson distributes much of his climbing gear, and makes a promise just before he leaves. I will return to build you a school.

In the Baltian village's isolation, the children were deprived of even basic education. If a boy showed particular promise and came from a less-poor family, he may have been lucky enough to be sent away from the village to study at a young age. Girls however, had no chance of an education.

As the story develops, the reader becomes a witness to the transformational power of Mortenson's determination. What begins with his promise to the Baltian village of Korphe becomes the Central Asian Institute and schools in the most rural villages of Pakistan and Afghani refugee camps.

While the US unleashes "Shock and Awe," Greg Mortenson is receiving donations from Mujahadeen, employing a former Taliban militant, defeating fatwas proclaimed by a corrupt mullah, networking with members of the Pakistani military, and educating girls and boys in the same villages where Saudi money is funding fundamental Wahabi-Islam in the Taliban run madrassas. While the Pentagon is hemhorraging money in Afghanistan and Iraq, Mortenson and the CAI are building schools for $12,000, which are then staffed by CAI salaried teachers for the price of $8,000 for a generation. When Mortenson finds himself interrogated by US intelligence officers, besides being inanely asked if he knows where bin Laden is, he is asked how many students he is responsible for educating at that moment. Mortenson answers, "150,00 to 200,000 children."

I highly, highly recommend that all of you read this book. It is extremely well written, but more importantly it is extremely necessary for voting and future voting Americans to seriously reconsider the US' present methods of foreign diplomacy and fighting terror, or as Bahir would have you think, ignorance.

READ IT. Please.

A Box of Sunshine

2008-07-27T00:21:00.005+02:00

Today has been one of the best days of my entire German summer. I woke up to find that a care package from my family had arrived in the mail. The contents included four books (from Jackson's very own Nomad Bookhouse), a glad-ware full of delicious oatmeal-raisin cookies that my sister Andrea baked, and a very tasteful navy blue sweater-vest and birthday card, complements of my Grandma and Grandpa Gaydos.

Not to diminish any of the other care package contents, but I was especially excited about the new reading material. I grossly underestimated my need for reading material during a summer of independence (read: isolation). While my abundance in free-time has allowed for a lot of introspection, I can only handle so much. Here are the books that came in the care package:

Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver
The Ten Year Nap by Meg Wolitzer
The Exception To The Rulers by Amy Goodman (with David Goodman)
Africa on Six Wheels by Betty Levitov

I asked for the first two specifically, and the last two were complete surprises. While I want to save enough reading for my return travel, I hope to post some type of book review for Three Cups of Tea and The Ten Year Nap.

Whenever my family would do any type of traveling, I always remember stopping at my Grandma Berkemeier's house prior to departure and receiving a family care package. These packages would always be filled with treats and goodies, and were always called "Sunshine Boxes," as they always provided a little bit more sunshine for our travels. Today was definitely a day filled with sunshine. After nearly three weeks of overcast, cool, and rainy days, the weather here in Vechta finally came around. For the first time this summer, I was able to go swimming at a nearby lake and do some summer beach-reading.

Look to Berlin

2008-07-24T23:41:00.004+02:00

In case anyone missed Senator Obama's speech at the Victory column in Berlin, you can now watch it in its entirety right here.

Feel free to fill the comments with your thoughts on the speech.

Barack in Berlin

2008-07-23T22:22:00.006+02:00

I have been awaiting this day with anticipation since reading Roger Cohen's Op-Ed "Obama's Message to Europe" in the July 7th New York Times. In fact, during the following lunch hour, I made sure to tell all of my coworkers about Obama's planned speech in Berlin. At one point, I managed discussed the event with my boss while on a field trip car ride. We covered all of the talking points, from the controversy surrounding the proposed venue of the Brandenburg Gate (the site of the famous JFK "Ich bin ein Berliner" speech), the main differences between Obama and McCain as candidates, and how renewable energy fit into the respective platforms.

When we came to the topic of foreign relations, I mentioned the American concern in Obama's youth compared to McCain's military background. My boss seemed confused on this subject, so I tried to explain how the two candidates have different approaches to foreign policy; Obama favors soft diplomatic efforts while McCain favors Military action, and that given our involvement in Afghanistan and Iraq, the issue was among the most important. But after this explanation, my boss still wore the appearance of confusion, and for a moment, I grew self conscious in my less than sufficient German skills. As if reading my momentary self doubt, my boss spoke up, saying "But Bush didn't have military or foreign policy experience either, right?"

I paused to think, I mean, he did manage to serve with the National Guard while others were in Vietnam. After deliberating, I offered the simple answer of, "No, not really, not like McCain." At this my boss took his eyes of the road, and replied with the Gem of all European-American discourse, "And you voted for Bush twice!"

This was not the first case that I encountered this assertion in Germany. Between my roommates, coworkers, and loose friends, Bush was not given much slack. He is viewed here as a poor diplomat, a terrible communicator, and ignorant on foreign policy. As you can imagine, when the trump card of "You elected Bush twice!" is played, little more than a shrug can be returned, and with that the conversation often ends.

Despite the dislike for Bush, every German that I have met holds a decent opinion of the US, especially when Barack Obama's name comes up. While the Germans don't know much about Obama, they respond well to his un-Bush characteristics and strengths. Tomorrow, Germany and all of Europe will have the opportunity to get to know Obama better.

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Unfortunately, I will not be able to attend Obama's speech in Berlin, but don't worry. My lack of attendance is no detterant whatsoever from preparing a great post on the event. I have managed to convince my friend Chris, a TREE intern working in Berlin, to write a guest column tomorrow and hopefully share some cool pictures, as he will be taking the day off from work to attend the speech.

In preparation for tomorrow's speech and First-Ever "One Sun, One Tree" Guest Column, I have decided to give a little bullet-point introduction to Obama's foreign policy tour.

Preview for tomorrow: What to expect

Over the last seven days, Obama has reinforced the intent of his travels abroad. He is on a fact-finding mission in Iraq and Afghanistan, and a US representative in Europe. Obama and his staff have repeatedly stressed that they are not abroad to broker deals of any nature, saying, "The United States of America has one president at a time — that president is George W. Bush. Senator Obama will not be engaged in any way, shape or form policy-making.”
That being said, Obama has the clear motivation to establish himself as a competent politician on foreign policy matters. So far he has done well. In Iraq, Afghanistan, Jordan, Palestine, and Israel, Obama has met with the political and military leaders of all of the involved parties, including Gen. David Petraeus, Iraqi Prime Minister Nuri Kamal al-Maliki, King Abdullah of Jordan, Israeli Defense Minister Ehud Barack, and Palestinian President Mahmoud Abaas.
In Berlin, we can expect Obama to address the importance of the European-American alliance. Nostalgic references to the Triumph of the West in the Cold War are widely speculated in the hopes of connecting past accomplishments with present and future challenges, like the coalition effort in Afghanistan and the need for greater cooperation in the entire Middle East.
A showcase of some of Senator Obama's greatest strengths: oration that rivals the European beloved JFK in content and delivery, and the just-as-important listening skills that complete the great communicator package.

Return tomorrow for a first hand account and reflection of Senator Barack Obama's speech in Berlin!

Energy Policy: Why German's EEG Works

2008-07-16T10:12:00.005+02:00

In the the case of energy reform, there is plenty of room for improvement from a legislative angle. Since I am more familiar with Germany's Erneuerbar Energie Gesetz (EEG), or Renewable Energy Law, I am going to continue to examine it as a reference to energy policy. This will also help tie up loose ends from my previous post on the bill as a whole.

What makes good policy good? I don't think that our leaders need to be the heroic writers like Thomas Jefferson or Thomas Paine were to produce effect legislation. I will be arguing that it is the little things that count when writing effective legislation.

Let's look at the EEG.

Taken at face value, Germany’s EEG encourages investment in renewable energy sources. Individuals who purchase, say a solar panel, know that they will earn a guaranteed rate of 42 €cents per kWh for a certain year when they sell to the utility (and remember, the utility must pay, at least, the guaranteed price). In a sentence, the EEG creates a market for renewable technologies. However, this in itself does not give the EEG its strength, as there are several other factors included in the legislation that do just as much, if not more at making the EEG successful.

1.) The EEG provided Feed-in Tariffs of scale.
A solar panel owner that produces up to 30 kW/h can earn more money/kW than a corporate solar farm that produces 5 MW/h. This promotes decentralized energy production. The benefits of decentralized energy production are invaluable and something very new to modern society. The biggest benefit is that it turns individuals into energy producers. It has a very Web 2.0 effect, in that suddenly anyone has the opportunity to transform from a consumer to a producer. The effect, in essence, is a more democratic production of energy.

Maybe this sounds like empty rhetoric and neglects the idea of efficiency from a centralized production method, but there is a phenomena that takes place when ordinary citizens start becoming energy producers. They start consuming less.

2.) The EEG is short and to the point.
The English edition that I found online was only 27 pages. 27 pages! For some reference, our Energy Independence and Security Act of 2007 (H.R.6) was 310 pages in length. While this sounds simple, and perhaps even reckless because of the risk of incomplete policy, the fact that the EEG was short and sweet enabled ordinary citizens to become beneficiaries of the bill and prospective renewable energy producers.

Together with the first point, the EEG secures a unique market for renewable energy. When average citizens are engaged by legislation and provided with legislation that is easy to read, they are more likely to take advantage of the policy and thus more likely to make the policy successful.

These measures enabled the first pioneers of wind energy to be German farmers, and some of the first pioneers of solar energy to be German homeowners.

3.) The EEG planned for the long term.
That is, the bill specified that all renewable energy providers would have a guaranteed buyer (the utility) and a guaranteed price for a 20 year period. This creates a number of benefits.

First, it decreases the risk for initial customers by providing them a 20 year time table to profit from their investment. Customers avoid the risk that comes with purchasing a new technology. Just look at who bought the apple iphone on the first day or the price for DVD players when they were first introduced, and you'll start to get the picture.

A second benefit of the twenty year plan favors renewable energy start-ups. With a 20 year guaranteed market, it suddenly makes sense for entrepreneurs to take the next step without the added risk. This will enable them to develop their industry when it wouldn't have previously been able to do so.

The third benefit occurs after the 20 year time period. Even when the bill expires, there will be a well established industry for renewable technologies, which creates a competitive energy market. By thinking in the long term, legislators can have a very positive impact on the domestic economy.

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These are important policy writing lessons, and they should be applied to every bill that wants to be successful.

Address the problem in the policy: if the problem is consumption, address consumption on the most familiar level (individual consumption).

Keep it simple, stupid: We don't want legislation to resembles a Rube Goldberg sense of logic. If the bill is written well and kept to the point, it will be easier to advertise.

Make the most out of the bill: Think long term and reap the benefits from doing so.

Proactive Energy Policy: Germany's EEG

2008-07-11T11:39:00.008+02:00

Whether Sen. John McCain or Sen. Barack Obama becomes our nations next president, the issue of environmental policy and domestic energy production is going to play a dynamic role in our nation’s future. The question that these two candidates will have to answer during their campaigns is, “How will your energy policy create a better future for Americans and the environment?”

So far, McCain has suggested adhering to free market principles with clean energy except for government subsidies for nuclear power and clean coal. He has also promised a $300 Million incentive to the producer of a high achieving car battery. Obama, on the other hand, has promised money. In his proposed budget, Obama is allotting $150 billion over 10 years to clean energy initiatives compared with McCain’s $2 billion annual promise to clean coal production (only number available on McCain’s Lexington Project site). Maybe the promise of free market principles or a lot of money can solve our energy crisis, but then again, maybe they won’t. For this sake, I am promoting specific energy policies that act proactively instead of reactively. My model is Germany’s EEG, Erneuerbar Energie Gesetz, or Renewable Energy Law.

The EEG began with roots in the 1990s where wind power alone was benefited, but the law really developed during its actual birth in 2000 to include almost every source of renewable energy. The policy is based on the principle of Feed-In Tariffs, which work by guaranteeing the sale of renewable energy by its producer to the utility. The catch is that the RE producer is guaranteed to sell the energy at above market rates determined by the law, which it then distributes evenly across its customers. In the end an average family pays an additional 2-3 euro on the monthly bill. This way, the tariffs don't punish the utility, and the higher cost is distributed among all of the consumers based on their consumption. These tariffs regress in amount in fixed increments that are specified by the EEG and specific to the type of renewable energy technology used. Therefore, more affordable renewable energy sources see a lower tariff than a more expensive RE technology.

Examples of these Feed-In Tariffs:

Both on- and offshore Wind Turbines are guaranteed a feed in tarif of 8.96 €cents for every kWh produced in 2002, which regresses to 8.83 €cents in 2003, and then 8.70 €cents in 2004. Similarly, Biomass (up to 500 kW) earn a feed in tariff of 10.13, 10.03, and 9.93 €cents/kWh for 2002 to 2004 respectively. From Geothermal to Hydropower to Landfill gas, each Feed-in Tariff is in the 6 to 10 €cents/kWh with one exception; Solar PV. For Solar PV panels (5 MW), the Feed-in Tariff is 48.09 €cents for '02, 45.68 €cents for '03, and 43.40 €cents for'04.

*It is important to note that the EEG takes measures to benefit smaller energy producers with high respective FiTs. So while a Solar PV producer of 5 MW earns a tariff of 43.40 €cents/kWh in 2004, a homeowner with a PV panel capable of producing 30kW/h can earn a tariff of 57.4 €cents/kWh. The difference is substantial enough to promote small ventures and private investment in renewable energy.

**Also, The EEG is guarantees these FiTs for 20 years, thus providing the security that entrepreneurs need to set up shop in a new industry. This long term legislation is part of the reason why Germany in experiencing surprising economic growth despite the global credit crunch. The first quarter of 2008 was the best in the past 12 years, expanding their economy by 1.5 % for the quarter (compared to the 0.6% GDP first quarter growth of the US).

The tremendous difference in the FiT for Solar PV is mostly because of the expensive price of a Photo-Voltaic panel. A fraction of it might just be to provide incentive to create the strongest solar industry, which brings me to my next point.

While the EEG provides a proactive policy for the benefit of all renewable energies, it doesn't mean that similar Feed-in Tariff legislation needs to be conducted in this same manner. While it is ideal to promote a number of RE technologies, this is impartiality is expected on a national level. In order to expect the same here in the US, this would mean waiting around for our federal government to pass a FiT policy. I am advocating that states, specifically Michigan and Ohio, beat the federal government to the punch. We should be viewing a proactive policy like the Feed-in Tariff as an impetus for economic growth.

Here is my proposal: Because of the hurting state of Michigan and Ohio's economies, the state legislators should be picky with which types of RE technology benefit from a FiT policy. For example, Ohio could choose to only promote a FiT for wind turbines, and guarantee is for 15 or 20 years, long enough to convince start-ups to choose Ohio. Why should Ohio choose wind and not solar or geo thermal? First of all, Ohio isn't exactly the sunniest state in the US, and I don't know of any existing infrastructure that could really take off given a friendly market. On the other hand, Ohio, specifically southwestern Ohio, more specifically Dayton, is home to one of the nation's best aerospace infrastructures in Wright Patterson Air Force Base. We are also home to what is possibly the nation's preeminent composite industry, a composite valley.

Michigan could probably also benefit from a wind focused FiT policy, but just in other ways. While we lack the aerospace and composite infrastructure that southwestern Ohio has, we have lake effect winds on the west coast of the state.

Okay, I'm no economic developer or legislator, so I'm sure that there are holes in my idea. Commenters, have at it. I want to know what everyone thinks. Bring your best criticisms, especially if you are an economist or legislator. Will FiTs work on a state level?

Traveling Beyond Detroit: The Bicycle

2008-07-06T16:09:00.015+02:00

We are all familiar with the argument; save gas, ride a bike. While many have decided to take the challenge and go by bike, the fact remains that we as a society are deeply attached to the personal automobile. This begs the question, "Why?"

As an avid rider myself, I find it hard to believe that such a large majority doesn't enjoy biking for the sake of biking. Rather, I think the determining factor is convenience. I realize that bikes often are less convenient than cars, but this is a convenience that is becoming ever more difficult to pay for. Also, the convenience of biking does not have to remain static. Imagine how much the convenience of driving a car everyday to work would diminish if the roads were constructed of nothing more than speed-impairing gravel, parking was sensible parking was nearly impossible to come by, and our traffic laws were designed with something other than cars in mind. The difference would be incredible. If much of convenience depends on external structures, than it is entirely possible to improve the convenience of something like biking as a form of transportation.

Since I'm living in Germany right now, I'll share some practices here that makes bike transportation more convenient.

Bike Lanes

In every German city that I have ever visited, the bike lane system is extensive. Each system stems from the heart of the city and branches out radially to connect different neighborhoods. Depending on the size of the city, the branched bike paths are connected in whichever manner makes the most sense. The bike paths are designed for mixed use, and are clearly divided between a pedestrian friendly half and a bicycle friendly half. If a biker is approaching a group of pedestrians, the biker just rings a bell, or squeaks the brakes to let the pedestrians know to move on their side on the path.

At the very heart of the city, it isn't uncommon for certain streets to be pedestrian only zones. These are usually the streets with outdoor markets. On any road without a bike path, the road is shared, and the those on bike ride without fear of cars (but they also follow rules).

Bike Storage

Just as cars need parking lots or garages, bikes need bike racks or lockers in order to increase the convenience. Plus, it's just good for organization and security. Cities won't have to worry about an entire workforce worth of bikes being locked to flagpoles, fences, rails, and trees. Riders won't have to fret about locking their bikes in a safe area.

Depending on the city design, a centralized bike locker can make sense. A centralized locker requires that a large number of jobs be concentrated in a relatively small area, so downtown business districts are usually a safe bet. In cities with less concentrated employment, centralized lockers can still make sense providing that public transportation or pedestrian traffic is accommodated to connect the dots. In some cases, smaller decentralized lockers will just make more sense, especially if there isn't already established convenient public transportation.

***

Bike Storage Case Study: Freiburg, Baden-Württemberg, Germany

While I was in Freiburg earlier this summer for the TREE seminar, I took a renewable energy tour of the city. The tour covered solar and biogas, but we also spent time on transportation. The tour started at the RE-tour agency's office, located in a mixed use bike locker facility. It was part bike locker, part café, part bike shop, and part city of Frieburg renewable energy tour agency office space. On a side note, those are solar panels on the sattelite dish looking thing. On the front of the building hung a meter which showed how much energy was being generated and consumed by the building. This building was definitely a centralized bike locker, and the location definitelz impacted this. One needed only to step off the Straßenbahn (Tram) at the main stop, and walk 20 meters. Plus, the main stop was conveniently located on a bridge spanning Frieburg's Hauptbahnhof (main train station). This transportation trifecta allowed those living in neighborhoods outside the city to commute by bike (which, if only a few miles away is faster than the tram, because of the fluidity of the bike path and Tram stops), park their bikes at the locker, and then catch a quick Tram ride to their office building or a Train for a daytrip/weekend getaway. Prepare yourself for pictures.

The effect is that of a parking garage. This is the basement/ground floor, and these are all citzen bikes that get dropped off in the morning and picked up at the end of the workday.

This is looking inward toward the center of the building.

This picture makes it look like you just remember your number come pick-up.

The fun doesn't end here though, because as we made our way back upstairs an onward on the tour, our guide drew our attention once more to the exterior of the building. In this case, we were directed to study the café balcony. Go ahead, study...

Nothing yet? That's okay. The next picture is my attempt to get a closer shot.

Answer: The balcony railings are actually water pipes that take advantage of the sun's heat to warm the water before running through the boiler line to heat the café or hot water line in the kitchen and bathrooms. Be impressed, it's okay.

***

So, what can we learn from Freiburg? The culture is obviously different, and so is the city design. Some naysayers might end the conversation there, saying that such infrastructure just wouldn't fly in the States, certainly not small Jackson, Michigan or suburban Dayton, Ohio. And they might be right, because we don't have the same city design, equivalent public transit, or bike culture. The thing is, we don't need to be the same as Freiburg. We can meet our own needs and still be progressive and ambitious enough to open the door to better bike culture and public transit.

Please use the comments as a forum to discuss this topic. What does everyone think? How can we build upon Freiburg's ideas? What is feasible? Do we need to consider other factors?

Post for Independence

2008-07-05T19:49:00.006+02:00

The Fourth of July has arrived, and while the corn is in fact knee-high here in Vechta, there are many things that are out of place. So in an attempt to secure what I can for myself as an expatriated citizen on this most patriotic of holidays, I'm going to post about independence, specifically energy independence.

The skyrocketing price of oil is forcing us to reconsider everything about our personal energy consumption and the consumption of our nation. The cold truth of our oil consumption is that it is self inflicted. We are the consumers and free citizens of a democracy. I know that this may sound a naive, but we have done little since the Oil Crisis of 1973 to ensure a less dependent future for ourselves. That is more than thirty years of complacency. Yikes!

So here is my 4th of July resolution: to post more frequently about energy specific issues. I don't expect that my ideas will be bread winners, or even that they will be intirely new, but hopefully a little bit of a dialoge can result that will yield some fruit. Consider this a formal invitation to contribute in the comments for those among my readership well-versed in energy law. You know who you are.

The Game (of the Century)

2008-07-03T01:12:00.005+02:00

Wednesday was finally here, and although my co-workers were reluctant to voice the concerns for the Turkish – Germany game, their silence only made the anxiety more obvious. It was useless to ignore the significance of a game where the emotional component is best measured along side Greek tragedies and classic mythology. On one side was Turkey, the remnant of the Ottoman Empire, the Muslim presence in the historically Christian Europe, the emerging nation waiting on the invitation into the EU, Germany’s largest minority of merchant class and fresh immigrants. On the other side was the Fatherland, the economic power, the EU key holder, the Man.

I tried to fish for thoughts at the lunch table, throwing out statements like “I’m pretty nervous about the game tonight. Turkey just seems to always find a way to win.” If I was lucky enough to get a relevant response, it most likely take the form of “Yeah, but they don’t play well—they just play hard. We are much more disciplined.” Despite the few bites, I never reeled one in. When my colleagues started clearing out an hour early, I followed suit. Although it isn’t unusual to leave work early on a game day, this was a bit more than I had noticed during the game against Croatia.That night as I made my way down to the Stadtmitte, literally city-middle, one of my flatmate’s friend let it loose. “There are a lot of Turks here in Germany, you know? We are a little bit scared tonight. We might just get beaten up.” If the game would have started then and there, I might have become a little nervous myself. However, as were passing through a heavily Turkish neighborhood at the time, my nerves were halted by success wishes of “Viel Erfolg!” and even playful negotiations like “If Turkey wins tonight, we get free Döners right?” (Döners are incredibly popular kebab sandwiches, and the shops are almost always Turk-owned). On top of this encouragement, my friend proceded to lighten the mood, glorifying Turkey's underdog appeal. He reminded me that 8 of Turkey's team were either injured or ineligible for the game because of red/double yellow cards in the previous game. As if that wasn't enough, there was wide speculation that the team's third-string goalie might end up playing striker!

I had never seen so many Germans pay so much attention to a game. Of course there was still the typical merriment at this game, but for once the fans seemed more focused on cheering than on the party atmosphere. Every cheer that the Turkish fans started was quickly followed by a counter cheer, and so it went until Turkey scored the first goal. Germany was silent. The game continued to stay close and when Turkey tied the game 2-2 in the second half, I was instructed a native to stop taking pictures of their fans celebrating. With less than ten minutes of regulation play left in the game, both sides seemed to be thinking the same thing, that Turkey somehow manages to win in the end.
In the last minute of regulation play, the flood gates opened in response to Phillip Lahm’s goal. Despite the Turks last minute efforts, the fate was sealed. Germany prevailed 3-2, and Turkey was going to be watching the Finale at home. The celebration continued for hours afterward, but I had to leave an hour into the celebratory dancing in the streets. Unlike the students, I had work the next morning.

A Weekend in Köln

2008-06-26T20:38:00.021+02:00

It was Friday afternoon, and I was anxious to take advantage of the early weekend policy at work. At 2:30 I was already leaving my office. It's so much easier to leave work or class or mass or (insert other obligatory events here) on time than it is to arrive. This punctuality wasn't just encouraged by the desire to end the workweek; I had plans.

During the previous week, I had been trading emails with the other nine American TREE interns and my friend and UD classmate, Sara, next to whom I frequently sit during German class. It all began when Sara, who is also interning in Germany this summer, asked if I wanted to meet up for the weekend in Köln, spelled Cologne when Anglicized. Sara was living and working in the southernmost part of Germany, where Germany, Austria, and Switzerland along the Bodensee, and I was in the far north, so Köln offered a fitting compromise in distance where we could meet. One of the TREE interns who was working in Bonn, which is only a half hour train ride away from Köln, RSVP'd along with another intern from Berlin.

In my attempts to plan on a budget, I racked my brain for any possible contacts in Köln where I could somehow arrange to crash on the floor for free lodging. As a Lumen Christi alumnus, I recalled that the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales had a German influence in the Köln area, and with the help of some Oblates from back home I put myself to work sending emails to oblates that I had never met before, expressing meet with them during the weekend, subtly hinting at the free lodging for a night. Unfortunately though, I didn't hear back from them until my Köln excursion was finished.

Not having received my stipend from the TREE program yet, I began my Friday afternoon of preparation by checking at the bank to see if the money transfer had been completed yet. It had not. That left me with 50 euro in my walet to get me to Köln, cover my food and bed, and get me back; a tight order when the 50% off train ticket that I was looking at was 46 euro roundtrip. Luckily, the Michigander in me knew just what to do: Collect the deposit from all of the bottles and cans that were lying around, or course. I proceeded to load up two crates and two bags of bottles (courtesy of my less-than-ambitious Mitbewohner Thomas) on my bike when I was interrupted by Anna, one of the girls from the apartment below me. After explaining to her my weekend plans and my money predicament, Anna suggested traveling through MitfahrZentral.de or Mitfahrgelegenheit.de, websites that match passengers with drivers. With Anna's help, I was able to catch a ride from Vechta to Köln for only 15 euro. If you add the nearly 10 euro that I picked up from the bottles and cans, I was now sitting on a 17+ euro cushion for my weekend budget. The only problem created was that I was leaving Friday night instead of early Saturday morning. I quickly called my friend Hannah (the TREE intern in Bonn) and arranged to stay the night at her place with Chris, the Berlin intern. Crisis averted.

Riding with complete strangers was surprisingly very comfortable, although part of that comfort should rightfully be attributed to the BMW that I was riding in. The two other passengers were old 20/young 30 somethings from Bremen who somehow worked in the shipping industry as engineers. We shared pleasentries, thoughts, and experiences while multiple Coldplay albums and instrumental rock/electronica dutifully filled any silent pauses during the three hour journey.

I was dropped off at the Wiener Platz Bahnhof (train station) in a heavily Turkish part of Köln. Because I had to wait for 50 minutes til the next train to Bonn, I spent the first half of the Turkey gegen Croatia Fußballspiel in a Turkish Kneipe. Because I covered this in the last post, I'll fast forward.

***

A few minutes after I arrived in Bonn, the streets came alive, in a second-coming-of-Christ-if-Christ-were-a-Turkish-soccer-fan kind of way. Cars were flying down the street in front of the Hauptbahnhof ("haupt" meaning "main") with passengers hanging out of windowns and standing up through sun roofs, proudly waving Turkish flags. Occasionally this cruising strip celebration was acccompanied by a pod of young Turks sporadically chanting in their native, three syllable pronounciation, "Tur-Ki-Ye! Tur-Ki-Ye!".
It was about 10 minutes into this sporadic parading of national pride that I met up with Chris and Hannah. Earlier that night, when the two of them had been watching the game at a local Biergarten, they were treated to a few rounds by a small group of complete strangers. As it turned out, one of them was an American who had left his native Utah to marry a fair German Fräuline a few years earlier. It was with this same group of guys that we were planning on meeting at a nearby club.

As we reached the first street corner, Chris, Hannah, and I paused to watch what had now become an organized parade of Turks. The cars were lined up behind a group of at least 30 flag bearres, all sharing the weight of one enormous Turkish flah. I wasn't quite sure what the fans were celebrating more, the victory over Croatia, or the right to play Germany in the Semi-Final.

I must admit, I was a little apprehensive about going to a club. I mean, UD's finest "bar & grill," Timothy's, had still yet to be graced with my attendance. Plus, I was still carrying my bookbag. Despit my inhibitions, "Blow Up" did not dissapoint. A renoveated brothel, " BlowUp" was wallpapered in dark green, draped with red velvet, and lit by musty sconces. Moreover, the guys that had invited us turned out to be class acts. All young professionals in Bonn's IT industry, they treated us (again) to a few rounds, as we challenged the breadth of their English fluency by diving into politics and personal history.

I spent most of my time talking with Vinod, an Indian raised in Bonn, and educated by its international school system, one of the perks of living in the former capital of West Germany. AFter completing Gymnasium, the German equivalent of our college prep high schools, Vince studied Economics in England and then spent seven years in India where he studied IT and worked in their booming industry. Since Chris, Hannah, and I were on a renewable energy focused internship, we discussed environmental policy, namely the Kyoto Protocal and the US's decision not to sign. Vince, in his global wisdom said that he understood the US's logic in not signing unless China and India stepped up as well but iterated the need for the US to be a leader on environmental policy saying, "Kyoto means nothing if the US doesn't join."

***

The next morning Chris, Hannah, and I met up with Sara just outside of Köln's Hauptbahnhof. Köln's Hauptbahnhof is by far my favorite, not because of the trainstation itself but because of its location. The fron doors of the Bahnhof are portals to another reality in a way rivaled only by C.S. Lewis's wardrobe and J.K. Rowlings's Platform 9 3/4. As tarvelers leave the bustel of the transportation hub through the automatic doors, they are struck immobile and overcome in awe of the immense, ornately gothic Kölner Dom towering over them.

The fantastic succumbed to the real as we scaled the innumberable spiraling steps of one of the Dom's towers. Although it may be clichè, it was definitely worth the € 1 student price.

We spent the rest of the day sprawled on the riparian park lawn along the Rhein, enjoying waffle cones of Eis (a Germanized gelato), leafing through bookstore offerings (I came across a stock of German copies of Reading Lolita in Tehran), and taking advantage of the relaxed European dining experience, where I indulged in my biweekly ration of meat in the form of a 1/4 meter house-sausage, crafted special to complement the taste of the microbrewerey's Kölsch brew. Here's a little tidbit: Kölsch is the only beer taht is also a German dialect.

After dinner, we met up with a friend of Chris' named Küra. Küra was working in Köln's film industry, and as our de facto tour guide, she shepherded us to the Belgian district of the city, known for its artsy cafès and theater scene. Although we couldn't find space at our first stop, a trendy vintage-themed cafè complete with outdoor Biergarten-like seating, we settled in at a cozy theater-owned cafè that was showing the Netherlands gegen Russia quarterfianl EM game. These are pictures of the cafè's two chandeliers. Cool, huh?

After the Russian's victory in overtime, Sara and I caught an S-bahn destined for our Jugendherberge, or youth hostel. When we arrived, I was incredibly disappointed. I had been expecting a seedy tenement building with pea soup colored paisley wall paper and a grimy film covering all surfaces because of the incessant candle burning and dirty backpacker traffic. What Sara and I found was a brand new chic hostel, complete with an elevator, thematic lighting, hotel art, and continental breakfast. In fact, the only way that this Jugendherberge differed from a hotel was that the rooms, in standard hotel form, were furnished with three sets of bunk beds.

On Sunday morning Sara and I began our day with 11:00 mass at the Dom. As we approached the revolving isde door, we were interceped by an obviously Catholic greeter dressed in a ridiculous red robe, informing us in Gemran that, "Sorry, you can't go in now. Service is going on." For a split second I was offended. In Catholic paper-scissors-rock, silly-red-robe-wearing-greeter does not trump informed-travelling-Catholic. It was like throwing a vertical paper on the playground, ready to disguise it as either paper or scissors at the first indication of your opponent's throw. This man had obviously spent hi schildhood recesses somewhere other than St. Mary's.

After my moment of offense, I politely informed the costumed greeter thta we were in fact, there to celebrate mass. In silent repsonse, Sara and I were ushered through the revolving doors.

Service wan't going on. We had arrived twenty minutes early in worry that we wouldn't be able to find seats, and to allow time to meet up with Chris. Although we didn't need to worry about a shortage of seats, the twenty minutes was not at all a waste. From our pew we could admire the architectural interior of the Dom, the contrast between the hundred-year-old andpost WWII stained glass windows (one of which was more than a pixilated pattern, crafted by a local artist), the ornate Tabernacle at the Latin alter (which legend tells contains relics from all three wisemen), and of course private paryer and reflection.

Mass ran for an hour and a half, not that I was counting or anything. The Dom parishioners took every opportunity to showcase their choir, and rightfully so, because the were incredible. The homily, perhpas in hope of asserting the Chuch's ability to respond to the times, employed an extended metaphor of a soccer game to the life of a Christian. This was the second consecutive Sunday sermon to feature such an extended metaphor. Highlights included, "we are all players on the field," and then referencing Corinthians wit, " As Christians we are all participants in the race (Mitlaufers), the oldest and truest competition..." Maybe it was just a Zufall, coincidence, but even the priests seemed to have caught EM fever.

Before we all had to depart that afternoon, we enjoyed the day in Köln in a similar fashion to Saturday; sitting on the edge of the Rhein, indulging in carefree cafè etiquette and enjoying on another's company.

Thanks for reading. I know this was a long post. Please leave comments.

Europa Meisterschaft!

2008-06-18T18:17:00.011+02:00

I should have packed my Poland jersey; Trikot, if you're still trying to build up your German vocab. Even a red T-shirt would have been nice. Without either, I was left in the "Fan Zone" surrounded by at least 1,000 German fans wearing a green shirt. It's not the fact that I didn't have something fitting to wear for the game that upsets me. Rather, it's knowing that had I been wearing that jersey, Poland would have won or at the very least, lost by a slimmer margin than the 2-0 fate that they suffered at the hands of the Germans.

Such is the logic of fans. It's a good thing that I'm not a cradle Fußball fanatic though, otherwise I would have been facing much worse than the jersey-induced doubt.

The Europe Cup is now in its third week, and Germany is still going strong. Cars have their little window flags, displaying proudly the black red and yellow as they load up on groceries. The girls that live below me made sure that they were sporting the national colors and matching for the opening game. This is a picture that I snapped of one of the pair on our bike ride downtown where there was a public viewing of the game or in German, Public Viewing. It's not the best quality, but in my defense, I was riding a bike while I took it.

For those who haven't been following the cup back in the States, here's a synopsis:
Poland unfortunately didn't make it out of the first round. They lost to Germany, ended up settling for a tie against Austria when they gave up a goal in the last few minutes of play, and they lost to Croatia.
Italy, the defending champions of the world, started off with a terrible 3-0 loss to the Netherlands, but were able to manage in the end with wins over Romania and France. They just lost last night to Spain in the second round, so they're out.
Germany luckily survived a first round loss to Croatia but ended up in second in their 4 team pod with Poland and Austria and therefore were able to move to the second round. There Germany proved victorious over the talented Portugal squad with a 3-2 win. They play again on Wednesday against the cinderella Turkey team.
Turkey has pulled off at least two miraculous games where they snatched victory from their opponents at the very last minutes. Recently, they upset Croatia and in doing so, moved on to the third round game.

The game on Wednesday between Germany and Turkey is particularly volatile because the Turks are the largest minority group in Germany. In the past few decades there has been several incidents of xenophobia crimes committed against Turks in Germany. Earlier this winter tensions between Turks and Germans were tested when a Turkish immigrant-filled apartment building suffered heavily from a fire. Fingers were pointed and arsen was suggested, but in the end the conflagration was blamed on the shoddy electrical wiring.
When either the Germans or Turks when, the streets of Germany's cities become stages for immediate parades. Cars will drive around for more than an hour, liberally sounding their horns.

During Turkey's last game, I found myself in a immigrant-district of Cologne with an hour long wait for my train. Naturally, I walked into the nearest bar to catch the first half of the game and was able to snag the last remaining seat. Although I may have been the only non-Turk in the bar, the two guys sitting next to me didn't mind, probably because they knew I was neither a native speaker nor a Croatia supporter. In gratitude for their hospitality, I bought the two another round of beer as I left to catch my train. Who said diplomacy had to be difficult?

Right now though, it isn't looking too good for the Turks. In their nail biter finishes, and double overtime-extended games several Turkey players collected injury, red and yellow/red cards, and for the lucky single yellow cards. Red cards bar the player from the rest of the game as well as the next game. Players are allowed to accumulate two yellow cards before suffering the same consequences as the red card. In a tournament situation, you can imagine how penalties can haunt a team. I think Turkey will be short seven players on Wednesday. Advantage, Deutschland.

Father's Day in Vechta

2008-06-15T18:46:00.005+02:00

Now that we're in semi-real time, I just wanted to post for Father's Day. I was in Nicaragua for Mother's Day and now I'm in Germany for Father's Day, so I guess that makes me pretty equal in my love for my parents, right? No favoritism?

All joking aside, I'd love to be with my family right now, especially with my dad and grandpa on their special day. Unfortunately I can't, but here's a post for you two.

Happy Father's Day Dad and Grandpa! You two are terrific role models for me. I don't just look up to you, ich liebe euch.

Love,
Franz

Catch-up Part 5: The Last of the Catch-ups

2008-06-15T17:00:00.009+02:00

My journey from Freiburg in the southern Bundesland (like our states) of Badden-Würtemberg to Vechta in the northern Niedersachsen took about eight hours by train; not bad considering that the train stopped at every city on the way to pick-up and drop-off passengers. The eight hours also accommodated the missed connecting train in the final leg from Osnabrück to Vechta, which would have cut my train time down to seven hours. Let the record show that this delay was entirely the fault of engine driver, as our train pulled into Osnabrück 14 minutes late and seven minutes after the hourly departing train to Vechta had left.

In the silver-lining, I was able to finish one of the books that I had picked up a week earlier at the Nomad Bookhouse in downtown Jackson. The book was The Other Side of the River by former Wall Street Journal journalist Alex Kotlowitz and told the story of a death in the St. Joseph, Michigan that reignited a history of racial segregation and injustice in the St. Joseph - Benton Harbor, twin cities relationship. The prominence of the St. Joseph River as a instrument in the segregation and injustice was highlighted by Kotlowitz, securing the book's relevance to UD River Stewards and Dayton as a whole. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.

My late arrival in Vechta presented an initial challenge, as I was originally going to be met at the train station by an company employee and get a ride to my WG (pronounced 'Vay-Gay'). Not knowing about my delay, however, said employee left the station before my late arrival. Luckily, I received the address in an email from my company. Unluckily, I had never bothered to right in down on paper. So began my stroll through downtown Vechta, backpack, tote bag, and wheely-luggage and all. My first stop, a family health center, provided directions to the nearest internet cafe. After about a 10 minute walk through the bustling heart of the city and over a river, I arrived at a rather tacky internet cafe. However tacky though, I had my address as well as the GoogleMap directions to get there, which ended up being just a short walk from the cafe.

I was greeted at my apartment by my Mitbewohnerin (gender-specific-ending foreshadow) Leah. Leah was a masters in education student at the local Uni. In fact, so were my other three Mitbewohner Rene, Thomas, and Basti. All four of them spoke near-fluent English, Leah having a subtle Canadian accent. Being masters students, all four were also older than me, averaging 23. This ended being a perk, because our WG was really very nice and enhanced by a dozen or more different pieces of art that either Rene or Leah had painted, drawn, or sculpted. More important though my Mitbewohner were all very nice, too. They were very helpful with my move in and very friendly. If they had weekend plans they would invite me, which during the first weekend turned into a road trip to Hamburg for a birthday party of a former Mitbewohnerin.

So here I am, caught up to semi-present time, living and working in Vechta. My landlord, Herr Schweinefuß (not a made up name) was able to find a bike for me which I use to ride to work every morning at WELtec-BioPower, where I have been reading about industrial Anaerobic Digesters, searching for different techniques to implement into a (hopefully) sustainable method of treating the post-digested eflluent.

Catch-up Part 4: A Taste of Freiburg

2008-06-13T20:08:00.019+02:00

The ten American interns taking part in TREE were split as evenly as possible; five girls and five guys, five technical students, and five liberal arts students, four vegetarians and six omnivores, five Michiganders and five "other". Apparently it isn't very possible to get an even representation of the States when it comes to German speakers. For the record, only four of us were from Michigan, while the fifth was an out-of-state student at the University of Michigan, but still... The particulars are as follows:

1. A Political Science/International Relations masters student at Northeastern University

2. An Environmental Policy, History junior at the University of Michigan

3. An Environmental Science, Political Science recent graduate from the University of Michigan

4. A Mechanical Engineering, German Studies fifth year at the University of Illinois

5. An Environmental Policy, German Studies senior at the University of North Carolina

6. A Chemical Engineering, Materials Sciences senior at the University of Michigan

7. A Computer Science, German Studies recent graduate from Gustavus Adolphus College, MN
8. An Environmental Policy recent graduate from Michigan State University

9. A Mechanical Engineering recent graduate from the University of Illinois

Since stats don't always speak for themselves, I'll vouch for them. These nine were impressive, and it was great getting to get to know them and hearing of their adventures and passions during our four day seminar. Each day we had a different lecture on themes ranging from Germany's EEG for Eneuerbar Energie Gesatz (Renewable Energy Law) to guidelines for Americans living and working in Germany. We also learned about separate types of renewable energy each day, featuring Wind, Solar, and Biogas from Anaerobic Digesters. (I'll be posting on these specific topics and my experiences on the on-education in later posts.)

In between our scheduled events, we would occasionally be granted enough time to explore the neighborhood in which we were staying. During our first day, we checked out the "Utopian Celebration" in a park a half km from our place. I had never seen such a high concentration of dreadlocks in my life before. There were about 20 graduate-level students working or playing in between two party-sized tents, one of which would have fit well at a Circus. While a handful of the students were playing in the soccer game against the neighborhoods young talent, the other student organizers were totally engrossed in chopping up a rather large amount of Cabbage, carrots, onions, garlic, tomatoes, the works for vegetables, and tossing them into a bathtub sized tin bucket. Above these hard working vegetarians hung a painted sheet, which when translated, advertised something to the point of "Come and live in Solidarity with us in Utopia, May 23 - June 23." In my curiosity, I worked up the necessary courage to ask one of the dreadlocked students about some of the details behind their cause. It turned out that the particular neighborhood in which this celebration was taking place was home to a very high population of refugees and immigrants, many of whom were faced with the prospect of not receiving the necessary extensions of residence for which they were constantly applying.

Since our days were well filled with speakers, presentations, and excursions throughout greater Freiburg, it was our relaxed evenings that allowed us to get to know each other much better. More often than not, this was centered around dinner. During the first night of our seminar, we were treated to a welcome dinner at a local restaurant with sat upon the shore of a swan-graced lake. Since it was asparagus season, I decided to order the Spargel mit Kratze und Hollandaise Sauce with a half liter of the local Ganter brew. With the best effort from my Milwaukee's Best trained palate, I'd describe the Ganter's taste as hops-y. My entree, on the other hand is much easier conveyed through words, as I received a plate of what I now can recognize as 500 g of steamed white asparagus with scraps of fresh pancake pieces and the side of Hollandaise sauce. For those unfamiliar with shopping by the metric system, a half kg of asparagus is a lot. Imagine the most asparagus that you've eaten for a single meal and then multiply it by three. Also, because white asparagus is seldom seen at Polly's country market here's my best description: the taste is slightly sweeter and less earthy, perhaps because of the slightly different texture, which is tenderer. (I found this picture online. I actually had like 3 times that much asparagus with my order)

The extravagance of the first night gave way to the more frugal weekly dinner. Since there was a furnished kitchen on our residence floor, we decided to throw in a few euros for groceries and cook our own dinner. It was a college classic: spaghetti pasta with meat sauce, sauce without the meat, and with pesto. The entree was framed nicely with salad and garlic bread. We ended up sharing another dinner like this, and between the two of them I learned that Mary had just finished living in India, Tim had immersed himself in daily Tunisian life, Elise was learning Arabic, Chris had traveled to Chile to attend an environmental leadership conference for students from around the world, Dave had studied for a semester at the technical university in Munich, Hannah was focusing her undergraduate years around urban planning and development, and Priya was working with fellow engineers from her university to design a closed-loop bio-diesel engine, in which the byproduct of glycerin would be combusted for additional efficiency. All of us had been to Germany before.

While the names aren't important, the motivations are. This was a group of passionate individuals, and I was thankful to be able to trade experiences and ideas with them. Among the Michiganders we would talk about the state of the State, local politics, and our aspirations to improve our native Michigan. One of the four, it turned out was very involved with the Michigan Student Sustainability Coalition which organized different actions like sending petitions in the form of valentines to our elected officials expressing their desires for environmental legislation. This same student group organized during the annual Detroit Auto Show were they donned green work helmets and setup shop with signs that read, "Toyota, pull up your Prius, your Tundra is showing!"

Since I seem to be highlighting a lot on food and drink in this post, it would be a shame to leave out our farewell dinner. On the last night of the seminar, we were treated to dinner at the Feierling Biergarten in the heart of Freiburg. Leading up to this evening, we had heard raving reviews from local Freiburgers of the incredible taste of the Feierling beer, which as we finally looked at the menu was Bio certified. The Bio designation is pretty much our equivalent of "organic". Still, I had never heard of organic beer before, let alone tasted any. Luckily, the menu offered the option of ordering a Maß, or "measure", the standard 1 L mug.
True to our recommendations, the beer was delicious! Imagine beer made by honey bees, and you might start to imagine the taste. Instead of a hopsy bitterness, it had a subtle sweetness to it. It's crazy how different the Braumeisters can get their brews to taste, all while using the same four ingredients, water, grain, yeast, and hops. I'd rate it a Puma on the the Animal Kingdom scale.

Catch-up Part 3: Welcome to Freiburg

2008-06-10T16:57:00.016+02:00

With the aid of a seven hour jump forward in time zones, I arrived in Frankfurt almost a full day after I had left Detroit. I caught a train ticket headed south to Freiburg, where I was to attend an introductory seminar with the nine other internship program participants. Some background: Shortly after Easter, I had received acceptance into the Transatlantic Renewable Energy Exchange (TREE), for which I had applied in winter. The program was federally funded by the German government for American and Canadian university students and recent graduates who wished to work in Germany’s booming renewable energy field. For me, the internship offered the combination of my two educational pursuits; German and what I deemed through my twenty-year aged idealism as merited engineering.

Due to my travelling complications which were mentioned in the earlier post, I had arrived in Freiburg two days before my seminar began, that is to say, two days before my room and board were to be provided. Luckily, my friend Karin, who was participating in a year of study at the University of Freiburg, had agreed to host me for the two unexpected days. Had I not been aware of Karin’s respectable credentials, expectations of such short-noticed hospitality would have been thought naїve. I am, of course, speaking of our shared alma mater and home parish, St. Mary Star of Sea.

After much difficulty and plenty of help from local Freiburgers, I was able to call Karin from a pay phone at the Freiburg Bahnhof, or train station. In no time at all, Karin and I were riding the Straßenbahn, literally street train, through downtown Freiburg on our way to her WG, Wohnen Gemeinshaft, or shared apartment. There I was introduced to Karin’s five mixed male and female Mitbewohner; three native Germans, one Pole, and one native of China. I had just tipped the WG scales in favor of the foreigners.

That night I shared dinner with Karin, her boyfriend Michael, his two older brothers, and his sister-in-law. The three brothers were all students at the University of Freiburg, with the oldest just finishing up his final few months of medical school. They also were all completely fluent in American English, as their Mother is American and always spoke English with them as children. After a delicious meal of pasta salad, curry-beef and rice, accompanied by a local, rather heavy-tasting Rothaus beer, we made our way to see the new Indiana Jones movie, which big surprise, was in English.

The next day, after an exorbidantly long sleep, Karin gave me a brief tour of the city, ending with a walk up to the Schlossberg, a tower ontop of a Hill just outside of the old city walls. The walk ended up being quite the trek, as the trails were also used by the many mountain biking enthusiasts that made Freiburg their adventure destination. When we reached the top of the Schlossberg though, it was clear why these bikers decided on Freiburg. The city was so completely surrounded by hills that you felt, as Karin put it best, hugged by them.

On Saturday morning, Karin and I met up with a friend of hers at the Münster, the present day cathedral that was first begun being built in 1120. Karin's friend, it turned out, had was our own private tour guide, which was really sweet because he seemed to know the young priest who let us behind the altar and into the private chapels and crypts. Yeah, near thousand year-old tombs...the Catholic equivalent of backstage passes.

After finishing the tour, our tour guide suggested an noontime snack, for which he generously offered to pay. Our snack options were myriad, since a bustling market sets up shop Monday through Saturday in the old city, which just happens to have the Münster as its center. There were bread stands and meat stands, fruit stands and vegetable stands. There were stands devoted entirely to asparagus, which in Germany is almost always white due to how it is grown. With all of the English that I had been hearing, I was ready for something classically German, and few things are more German than meals of bread and cheese. In the end, we all shared a half meter long baguette, bleu cheese, and bear's garlic cheese from a French stand. Close enough.

As we sat at an outdoor cafe table, our benefactor filled the conversation with his experiences of having grown up during an divided Germany. He spoke sincerely when expressing gratitude in the US's commitment to rebuilding a vibrant Germany and Europe after the WWII, and the US's further commitment to a democratic Europe during the Cold War. Here, more than my surprise at the ubiquity of English, more than my surrender to a French meal, was what I had been searching for. This was beyond the standard cultural fare. This was personal. This was German.

Catch-up Part 2: Home

2008-06-09T01:14:00.007+02:00

Although I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Nicaragua, I was glad to be back in the states. My first night back, I stayed at my friend Sam’s in Dayton. He welcomed me back with familiar diet staples of mine: milk, cereal, and ice cream. What a guy! The next morning I rode back to Jackson with my sister Monica, who was nice enough to make the drive down to Dayton to pick me up. I was looking at five full days with the family before I had another plane to board. I did my best to knock off items systematically on the “To-Do” list, but some things were more of a challenge than I expected. My younger sister Gretchen luckily was already out of school, so we were able to catch up a fair bit, but much of the rest of my family were victims of one volatile “To-Do”… my plane ticket. I had reluctantly put off purchasing my plane ticket to Germany because my parents had graciously offered to gift some of their frequent flyer points to me, an offer that the cons of Procrastination never stood a chance at discouraging me from accepting.

Unfortunately, I, my mom, and my dad all lacked the necessary account information to make such a transaction, so we spent a good deal of time mixing up holding-time with increasingly more frantic explanations to the good people at Northwest Airlines’ 1-800 number. In the end it worked out, but the price I paid for booking my flight days before my intended departure was harsh; Instead of leaving on a Friday, I had to settle for Wednesday, and instead of flying direct, I was left with no other option but to connect from Detroit to Hartford to Amsterdam to Frankfurt.

New Mission: pack and arrange all travel accommodations in a day and a half. Yikes! I raced from the Nomad Bookhouse in downtown Jackson to pick up some books from my long hours to be spent en route, to St. Vincent de Paul’s to pick up some work slacks and shirts, to Gramer’s Chocolates on Waterloo to get some gifts for my hosts and friends that I would be meeting up with in Germany, only to come home receive gift cards to Elder Beerman’s from a mother who isn’t too keen on hearing that her son intends to wear thrift while overseas in fashion conscience Europe. Moms… aren’t they great?

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t packed. In fact I still needed to wash my clothes from Nicaragua. While my multiple loads of laundry passed through their spin cycles, I was graced by a last-night visit from my friend Mark; so much for sleeping. Mark and I covered a lot of ground, from dreams of grandeur and life plans to theology. By 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning of departure, I was back to folding my laundry and ready to start packing. By 8:00 AM, I figured I could lie down for a half hour, which inevitably turned into an hour. No worries, I recalled that my flight was to leave Detroit Metro at 12:40 or something like that. I can always sleep on the plane, I told myself.

Just as I finished the morning particulars, I decided to once again check my plane ticket. Yes, it’s still where I remember putting it, in my breast pocket. Departure time, 12:40? Departure time… Wait. Oh God, this can’t be right, I swear… 10:40? With heart beat gaining momentum, I quickly checked my watch. 9:17!

I burst into Monica’s room, who on the previous night offered to drive me to the airport, and awoke her from her sleep. This can’t be happening. I grabbed my bags and leaped down the stairs like I’m a contestant in the Gloucestershire Cheese Rolling race.Luckily, my dad walked in the front door as I tore through the family room. I don’t even know if I explained the full situation, but with one look, I knew that he understood. Four minutes later we already on the road, and I was already through a mental check of what I had forgotten in my scramble to get out of the door. All that I could come up with was my cell phone, which didn’t worry me too much, because I didn’t plan on making calls on it from Germany anyway, and besides, it didn’t work all too well. After trying to calculate the time that it would take to reach Detroit Metro and imploring my dad to drive faster, my list of left-behinds gained another member… the three 1-lb boxes of Dark Chocolate Turtles from Jackson’s very own Gramer’s Chocolates. Bummer, but still only a flesh wound. My hosts’ losses would just become my family's gain. After saying a clutch rosary with my dad, my heart rate started to settle down to a “dead at 45” obituary.

By the time we were driving through Ann Arbor, my flight was already boarding. I read on my boarding pass, for all International Flights present passport an hour previous to boarding. By the time we idled outside of McNamara Terminal, my watch read 10:15, at which I sincerely thanked my dad with a hug and made my way to the check-in Kiosk. As I hurriedly passed through Security and waited for the next Tram to my gate, I glanced yet again at my watch. 10:32. Although that had to be a record for airport security, I had only a few minutes until my plane took off!

As luck would have it, a guy next to me on the Tram was also on my flight to Hartford, and because of him and the fact that he was riding first class, I'm pretty sure the flight attendants kept the door open for just a bit longer than they usually would have. Without a minute to spare, I had made my flight. With a now obligingly descending heart rate, I succeeded in accomplishing at least one of my mental “To-Do” prompts without any complication. Sleep had never been so reassuring.

Catch-up Part 1: Nicaragua ETHOS Breakout

2008-06-08T19:58:00.005+02:00

At 4:00 AM on the morning after my older sister Monica's graduation, I (along with 11 other UD Engineering undergraduates, 1 graduate student, and 1 professor) made my tired way to the Dayton International Airport for my departure. After a very punishing semester, summer was finally here, and by "here", I mean Nicaragua. Organized through UD's homegrown ETHOS organization (Engineers in Technical, Humanitarian Opportunities of Service-learning), the 14 of us immersed ourselves into the Nicaraguan culture while learning and working with renewable energy and appropriate technology.

Although the national transportation strike provided an unforeseen challenge, we made our way from the capital of Managua to the small village of Sabana Grande, near the northern border with Honduras. While in Managua for the first few days, we met with students at the National Technical University (UNI- for Universidad Nacional de Ingeniería) and exchanged research presentations with each other. But it was in rural Sabana Grande where we spent the bulk of our 11 day breakout living with host families and working with the women's solar group to build solar ovens. These ovens were designed with the goal to wean rural Nicaraguans from cooking over wood fires in enclosed spaces because the contained carcinogenic fumes of inefficiently burnt wood can have serious health affects to the women and children, those most likely to spend time in the kitchen. Everyday, our lunches were prepared in similar ovens, which in the Nicaraguan sun are able to sustain temperatures of 150 degrees Celsius or right around 300 degrees Fahrenheit. These temperatures are high enough to kill food bacteria like salmonella in chicken, which is exactly what we ate, delicious and salmonella-free chicken. After about 3 days of work building the solar ovens, we tackled photovoltaics.

The solar community that we were living, learning, and working with had organized themselves in such a way that established their own little labor-based economy where the currency was the hour worked. After a few years of working to build solar cookers, the buildings, and permaculture farm from which they operated, some of the women had accumulated several hundred and in some cases more than a thousand hours worked. These hours could then be used to buy items from the green store, which was stocked with inventories brought by groups like ours with clothes, books, school supplies, soccer balls, and cooking ware. The hours could also be saved to purchase a photovoltaic system for a home. In preparation for our own installations, we visited several homes that already were being powered by solar panels. The consumption was meager, as only 3 or 4 compact fluorescent or LED equivalent lights were being powered by the solar cells, but it was able to make an incredible difference. Kids could now read at night, study after dark, or just share some time with friends and family. It was truly inspiring to experience what passion, vision, and organization can accomplish, as all of the PV systems were assembled and installed by local villagers by small solar cells that didn’t make the cut at their original producer in Maine. It also gave us a better value for the service that we were providing through our installations, as the materials necessary for the two PV installations that we completed were paid for by the cost of our breakout.

Before we ended up flying back to the States, our service-learning part of the trip yielded to a few days of traveling, where we were able to see a little bit more of Nicaragua’s natural beauty. We spent one night tucked in the mountains near the city of Esteli, where we hiked through the lovely pine forests. Our last night was spent on the heart of touristy Granada, where we were preyed upon by the manifold of street vendors. Between the boat tour of the inland mansions on the lagoon and patronizing the overwhelming number of foreign-owned restaurants and bars, our time in Granada provided the just the right amount of irony and comparison to better digest the real motivations for our time spent on breakout.

While this post certainly can’t accurately account for my 10 days in Nicaragua, I did keep a decent journal while I was there, so I’ll try to post those later on. That way you should be able to get a more thoughtful, as opposed to factual account of my time spent under the Nicaraguan Sun.

Jumping Right In

2008-06-08T09:27:00.000+02:00

I'm off to a late start with this blog, but hey, it's all a learning experience, so please bear with me through the initial confusion. In order to best remedy this lack in organization, I'll give a summary of what I've been up to thus far this summer. The details will be woven in to what I hope will be chronologically-acceptable, frequent postings. Enjoy!