(Portuguese) Football fever in Mindelo

Last week I spent some time in Mindelo on the island of São Vicente, an appealing little city distinguished by its quaint local charm, colonial history, live music and vibrant Cape Verdean culture. On Sunday, the talk of the town (at least for the male half of the population) was the last round of the Portuguese Premier League, with three teams (FC Porto, Benfica, and Sporting) all having the chance to become Portuguese champions.

I already knew that there is a significant football interest in Cape Verde, but I must admit that I was a bit surprised to see the proportions it all took.

For many, the build-up apparently started long before the actual game, and already at lunchtime I had spotted quite a number of more or less intoxicated young men walking the streets, waving distinctly colored flags and garments, chanting away at something that remotely reminded of some kind of football hymns.

Sitting on my hotel balcony enjoying some afternoon sun, I overtly overheard the roars of joy and despair from nearby local bars and apartments, as the games commenced. Apparently, all three football clubs enjoy a fair amount of support among the locals, although I could not tell for sure which team was the more popular.

But when FC Porto eventually emerged as the triumphant team, winning the championship trophy, the party was ON. Honking cars all around the city in never-ending circuits, blue-and-white supporters dancing and jumping in the streets, samba-groups with heavy drumming equipment touring the main square, and lots and lots of ecstatic faces everywhere (the gloomy faces appeared to stay inside). It was as if Cape Verde had won the African Championships.

Personally, although being somewhat of a moderate football fan, I couldn’t care less about who wins the Portuguese Premier League. I remotely follow the Swedish league, and more closely the Swedish national team, but football leagues other countries have never really caught much of my attention.

I therefore can’t help being a little curious about where the enormous interest the locals took in this Portuguese event came from. Especially since I have learned that most, if not all, of the Cape Verdeans are immensely proud of their own country, and generally keen to obliterate, rather than generate, any relations with the old colonial power. So why this huge exception when it comes to the game of football? Why is Portuguese football more important than, say French, Italian or Swedish football (OK you don’t have to answer that latter part of the question). How can it be that one of the most common hotel names in the country is “Hotel Benfica”?

The fact is, I don’t know. Perhaps the national football league in Cape Verde is not yet fully developed (although the national team almost made it to the world championships last time around). Or maybe cheering for a Portuguese football team is one of the few still accepted ways of openly showing a close relationship with the former colonial power, without politics becoming involved.

But this seems to me to be rather bleak explanations. Anyone out there, who might read this and have a better idea, let me know.

From Agent Orange to a 4WD: being an environmentalist in Cape Verde

It is quite possible that my environmentalism started when I was around 10, somewhere in a clear-cut forest in the north of Värmland, Sweden. I and the rest of my family were taking part in a demonstration against airplane pesticide spraying. However unlikely it would seem today, it was customary throughout the 60s and 70s to spray aggressive chemical pesticides (”Hormoslyr”, similar to the chemical “Agent Orange”, used by the USA in the Vietnam War) on forest clearings in Sweden to kill off all deciduous (foliage) trees. To stop this malicious practice, some courageous people positioned themselves in the middle of the clearing, and dressed up in colorful garments so that they were plainly seen from the sky. The pilot was not allowed to spray if people were present, since the pesticide was a direct health threat to humans, and would thus have to turn back.

I vividly remember the mounting tension while having hot chocolate and sandwiches sitting on a big tree-trunk, waiting for the plane to show up. Eventually we would hear a roar from afar and spot the wings in the horizon, getting increasingly nervous that the pilot wouldn’t see us or simply break the rules and spray us anyway (we had brought umbrellas, just in case – not that it would help that much). Luckily enough, the pilots always spotted us and we were never sprayed.

These protest were successful; not only did they stop the spraying temporarily in situ, but they also created a lot of media attention which stirred a ferocious debate leading to the banning of the chemical by the Swedish Government by the end of the 70s. This was a crucial win for the growing Swedish environmental movement, and it no doubt contributed to the formation of the strong environmental awareness and policy which is now mainstream in Sweden. (Ironically, today everybody, including the forestry industry, agrees that killing deciduous trees is a very bad idea, also economically).

Since then, my interest in protecting the environment has only grown. I soon became a member of Youth and Environment Sweden, I chose biology and environmental management as my main subjects at the University, I advocated environmental solutions as board member of a tenant-owner’s society, I worked non-profit for an environmental NGO, and I applied for a position at the Ministry of Environment, eventually working for the Foreign Office as an environmental negotiator to the UN in New York and to the EU in Brussels. Throughout the years, I have remained convinced that, however difficult it might be in some cases, it is possible to change the world and to save the environment.

Moreover, as far as it is possible for someone grown up in the materialized Western world, I try to live as I preach. What I mean by this is that I seek to minimize my own resource and energy use as well as transportation, eat more vegetarian, and recycle and reuse as much as possible. While by no means being an ascetic, I have resolved to live a less resource-intense and materialistic lifestyle than the average Westerner. Not as a “sacrifice” or out of guilt, but as a way to feel more at ease with myself and the surrounding world.

Then we moved to Cape Verde. And as it were, I suddenly felt more ore less forced to give up many of my previous ideals. Here are some key examples:

Transportation: Before moving, we considered that we needed a car, and in retrospect I have to admit that it has been quite indispensable (especially considering that we have a toddler). It is my first car ever, and what is worse, it is a 4WD (albeit one of the markets most energy-efficient models, the new Toyota RAV4). Obviously, this considerably worsens my environmental performance – regardless efforts to minimize driving and to drive efficiently. What is more, our air travel has increased considerably. Given the geography of Cape Verde, unless you choose to stay on the same island, you need to fly to get anywhere in or outside the country. Consequently, the number of kilometers traveled by air has soared during the past year.

Resource and energy use: The perhaps most valuable – and scarce – resource in Cape Verde is water. Being aware of this, I make an effort to minimize water use in the household, for example through decreasing the water pressure, avoiding flushing toilets at night-time, refraining from taking baths, shutting off the water in the shower when shampooing, asking the cleaning lady to use less water, etc. Nevertheless, I am sure that I use much more water per day than the average Cape verdean. My old habits from Sweden, where water is abundant, are hard to give up completely. Regarding energy, we try to limit our consumption, and with the exception of the computer and the refrigerator (I am frustrating my wife by insisting that we need only a small one) we don’t have many electric appliances running. However, during the hot and humid season we are relying on air conditioning to be able to sleep at night, and during this period our electricity use (and cost) skyrockets.

Food habits: Generally, meat-production requires about 10 times as much energy input as vegetable- and grain production, and to eat less meat is therefore increasingly considered as key to reduce overall environmental impact. In addition, vegetarianism is healthier and ethically appealing. I now realize that being a vegetarian is relatively easy provided that you have access to good vegetarian restaurants and good sources of fresh vegetables. This is not the case in Cape Verde, unfortunately, and as a consequence, my meat-eating has increased considerably. On the positive side, Cape Verde can offer a lot of locally captured fish (most of the meat seems to be imported from Brazil).

Waste generation and recycling: So far, I have seen no system for either reuse or recycling in Cape Verde, and consequently there it would be rather pointless to separate our waste (in fact, I have become so accustomed to recycling that I now, being unable to do so, feel quite frustrated). Also, littering is a huge problem. Where I live there is a fairly well-functioning waste collection, but in other parts of the city, as well as in the countryside, waste scattering and dumping is commonplace. Not only does it create a dangerous and un-healthy environment, it also creates a unaesthetic living environment, deterring tourism and promoting depression and perhaps even crime.

Chemicals use: Unfortunately, it is very difficult to find environmentally friendly chemicals in Cape Verde. See my previous blog, “Out of Reach”.

All in all, despite good ambition and real effort, my environmental performance in Cape Verde is bound to be pretty poor. And, without trying to blame this on someone else, I have become ever so convinced that it is absolutely imperative to have strong environmental policies, regulations and incentives in place for any environmental ambition to be fulfilled. Without eco-labelling, it’s almost impossible to choose an environmentally friendly product. Without well functioning, safe and reliable public communications you are left with the car. Without as system for waste prevention, reuse, recycling there is no way to avoid creating lots of garbage. And without strong environmental education there will be no environmental awareness.

I just hope that also the Cape Verdean Government realizes this. I have had a look at their 10 year environmental plan, “PANA II”, and it is without doubt a well elaborated and ambitious document. But it needs to be fully implemented and developed further, as a very high priority. If not, sustainable development for Cape Verde will prove elusive, with a high cost for both the environment and for people’s health and livelihood.

Island charms

A few weeks ago, I got in touch with a Swedish traveler who wanted some advice on what to do and see in Cape Verde. It appeared that his main hobby was to visit all kinds of different islands around the world.

Afterwards, I found myself slightly intrigued by this idea of only traveling to islands – although initially I thought it was a bit odd. Why only islands? I started to search my memory for travels that I have made throughout my life, identifying my favorite spots. Well, there turned out to be a very clear pattern: A great majority of these places was in fact islands. Whether on Bali, Manhattan, Corsica, Corfu or in the Stockholm archipelago, most islands that I have visited have made a special impression, and often a very positive one.

This made me wonder: What is it that makes islands so interesting places to visit? As I am now living in Cape Verde, one of the world’s most unique island countries, it seems natural to give this question some more thought, both in a general context and in a Cape Verdean perspective. These were some of my conclusions.

A sense of overview: Most islands have a limited and clearly defined land area, which I think is generally appealing to many people. Some islands can be circled by foot, others by vehicle; yet others will require days to cross. It creates a certain sense of comfort, of control, of never having to worry about finding your way. This sense of overview is valid for individual islands of Cape Verde, but hardly for the whole country. The islands vary widely in almost every aspect (culture, dialect, size, geology, development, nature etc) and in order to get a good understanding of the whole of Cape Verde Verde you need to visit all of them – which for practical reasons is something of a challenge.

Exotic and unique. I believe all travelers are seeking something different, something out of the ordinary. Many islands are truly exotic, embodying such aspirations. In fact, when you to picture something exotic, you probably think of something like a Caribbean island. I find Cape Verde very exotic in many senses (although for sure very different from the Caribbean).

Less traffic. In most places in the world, traffic is both dangerous and annoying, being a main cause of accidents, stress, noise and pollution. Since on most islands road infrastructure is limited and vehicles can only be imported by boat, the traffic intensity is lower than in the mainland. This means fewer accidents and less noise and pollution, which will create a sense of safety and tranquility.

Island nature and wildlife. Islands often have a very interesting biology, with unique (or as biologists say, endemic) wildlife and plants which cannot be found anywhere else. Many of them also offer great diving. In Ecology, there is even a special theory called the “Island Theory”, which holds that the number of species found on an island is determined by two factors; the distance from the mainland and the island size. The wildlife in Cape Verde can hardly be described as rich, but there are some completely unique plants, birds and reptiles.

Isolation: There is something challenging, something tempting, about being alone in the middle of the sea. It gives a sense of exclusiveness, of uniqueness, which, I believe, many people find themselves attracted to. When being geographically separated from the mainland, it might be easier to disconnect also mentally from all the duties and problems that you confront back home. Of course, in certain situations the feeling of isolation can become too strong. For me, this is almost the case in Cape Verde. When I think about how far it actually is to the mainland, and how extremely dependant I am on a boat or a plane to leave this island, I actually become a little anxious.

Quaint languages or dialects. Somewhat depending on the distance to the mainland, dialects, or in the case of some islands such as those of Cape Verde, separate languages, easily develop. This adds to the flavor and exoticness that make islands special. The Cape Verdean Kriulo certainly makes this country much more interesting.

Island culture. Many island populations also form more distinct cultures than on the mainland. There are some common denominators which will contribute to this: the sea, fishing, isolation, limited infrastructure, absent friends and family who have left for the mainland, etc. Cape Verde has developed a very distinct culture and music style, captured by the word “sodade”, which means something like “loneliness” or “longing”.

Boat trips. Islands all have a special relationship to boats, as the main means of transportation. Most will agree that traveling by boat is usually a pleasant experience. There is something fresh and exciting about boat trips; it makes you think of the smell of sea-salt, strong wind in the hair, sun-drenched decks and adventure. I have never been much of a sailor, and I can’t stand the thought of spending more than a few days at sea – but I do like short journeys by boat, to or in between islands. In Cape Verde, the distance between many of the islands is, unfortunately, too big to easily travel by boat, except between some of the closest ones (e.g. Santiago to Maio or Fogo).

Island food. Just as culture and language on islands tends to diverge and become distinct from those of the mainland, most islands will also develop a specific cuisine. Cape Verde’s national dish is Cachupa, a bean and corn-based casserole with or without meat and fish. I must confess: I am not particularly fond of Cachupa (although at times I can appreciate the “refugada” version, which to some extent reminds me of the Swedish dish “pytt i panna”). But it is certainly different to anything I have tried before.

In summary, it is easy to see that there are many great advantages of islands as compared to the mainland. And for those of you who visit Cape Verde, you will encounter many of them.

The power of language

Which main feature distinguishes humans from other advanced animals? Some would say the ability to make fire, some perhaps that we know how to use tools, others yet that humans might have some kind of “souls” which animals wouldn’t.

I would say – language; the ability to speak and communicate.

Just a few days ago, our two-year-old started to use a new expression from his quickly growing Portuguese vocabulary: “não pode”. Consider the power of those few words: “You may not”. And consider the difficulty if you couldn’t utter or understand them. Of course, little children have other ways of communication to express their will, but before they start talking it’s on a pretty basic level (after all, “uääääää” can mean a million things, sometimes confusing even the most ambitious of parents).

Seeing my little boy’s language skill develop as rapidly as it does makes me almost speechless (no pun intended). As we are both learning Portuguese for the moment, it is interesting to compare our abilities. And while it takes at least five repetitions for me to recall a new word in Portuguese, he will remember immediately. What is more; he somehow manages to learn THREE languages at one time. Depending on who is talking to him, he understands and uses either Portuguese/Kriulo (with Cape Verdeans), Finnish (with his mother) or Swedish (with me). Not that he realizes that it is in fact three languages – he simply adapts to the circumstance that different people call things differently. Sometimes he will even say the same thing in all three languages just to make sure that he is understood.

The desire to learn a language is surely one of the most powerful driving forces we have as human beings. According to the Harvard professor Steven Pinker, language is a human instinct, wired into our brains by evolution like web-spinning in spiders or sonar in bats. In several books, he has convincingly explained how evolution has led to our brains being genetically pre-programmed, just waiting to be filled with grammar and vocabulary at a very early stage in life.

And it makes sense, since language is an absolute precondition for our species to live and prosper on this planet. For one thing, it is by far the most efficient way to get something you want. If you cannot communicate what you want, chances are quite slim that you will get it. If you can’t tell people off, there is a big risk that they won’t stop. Therefore, children who learn languages early on will have an enormous payoff, even affecting their chances of survival. And the more languages we pick up as children, the better linguists we become as adults.

We can all relate to the lack of language skills, being unable to express ourselves properly or to understand what people are saying. It can be very frustrating. A good example of this was when our new car broke down in Cape Verde some months ago (see previous blog “My relationship with Toyota”). The local Toyota representative refused to accept the warranty, and it took a lot of time and effort to resolve the issue. I am convinced that this was mainly due to the fact that I didn’t speak Portuguese or Kriolu very well. With only basic knowledge of a language, it is almost impossible to explain and negotiate a case, put forward demands and claim rights. Language means power.

As another example, I have been working many years as an environmental negotiator, and one of the first things I realized was how important it was to use the diplomatic language. Regardless which language-base you use (English was mine), there is a set of fairly strict rules to apply – most of them unwritten – based on courtesy, formality and repetition. This skill is absolutely necessary in order to build agreements between constituencies with different cultures, traditions and priorities, since it creates trust and minimizes fear and disbelief. Diplomats who mastered this language got a lot of things done, whereas those who didn’t failed miserably. Again, language equals power.

But language is not only necessary to get what we want. I would claim that without a language, we would hardly know or understand anything. Imagine life without words and sentences. Try to form a concrete thought without a language. You can’t. And even if you could, what good would it be if you couldn’t share and communicate it with anyone? Without language, the world would be a complete blur of confusing and inexplicable impressions, without any possibility to differentiate or understand them. Probably it would be a very scary place. Understanding is about distinguishing and identifying, which simply can’t be done in any detail without a language.

Consider that we would have had no language at all. I don’t think we can even start to imagine what our lives would look like. A couple of weeks ago we could read in the papers about a woman who spent 19 years completely alone in a remote forest in Cambodia. What I found most intriguing about this story was that she spoke no language at all, and I can’t help wondering what this meant to her ability to understand herself and the surrounding world. As could be expected, the reports describe the woman as generally confused and terrified. Her comprehension will no doubt increase considerably however, if and when she learns a language.

Putting all of this into a Cape Verdean perspective, I realize two things.

First, the importance of preserving and developing the local language, Kriulo, as a corner stone of Cape Verdean culture and national identity. Optimally, Kriulo should be developed and become the formal language, to be used also in Cape Verdean law, governmental decisions etc.

Secondly, it seems to be a good idea to encourage more Cape Verdeans to learn other foreign languages (besides Portuguese). Tourists and investors alike, most of them will inevitably feel more comfortable in a country where they can communicate more easily.

Schools apparently have an important role in teaching 3^rd and 4^th languages. But I am also told that over half of Cape Verde’s population live abroad; many of them must necessarily speak English or French. Perhaps I am too bold, but what if all exile Cape Verdeans made a commitment to teach their foreign language to family and friends when they come home for visits, or that they sponsor foreign language classes in Cape Verde so that the rest of the family can learn their new language while they are away? I would think that this be one of the most efficient, cheapest and quickest ways to boost tourism and economic development in Cape Verde.

I, for my part, have started to give some simple English lessons to our guard, so that one day he might find a better job, perhaps as a guide. It’s a small step, but it’s something. Moreover, I will make an effort to learn kriolu, just like my son, so as to better understand the Cape Verdean culture – as well as my son! Kre papia kriolu...

To be a full time dad in Cape Verde

Today is the International Woman’s Day. I will therefore devote this blog to a favorite subject of mine: parenthood and gender-equality.

Let me start by a declaration: I am an extremely privileged man. Not only am I happily married to the most wonderful and smartest woman I know. And not only am I blessed with an extraordinary healthy, energetic and funny little two-year-old. My privilege is even larger than that. Why? Well, it’s quite simple: more than having a family that I love, I actually have an abundance of time to spend with them, and in particular with my son.

Historically, geographically and culturally, the concept of a stay-at-home-dad is very new, and it still is – unfortunately – extremely rare. The number is growing, but it is yet only a tiny proportion of all men who ever gets the chance to spend any significant time with their children. In almost every culture and society around the globe, women are considered most appropriate to bring up children full time, in particular small children. Some would even claim say it’s against “God’s will” or the laws of biology to do otherwise.

This is all nonsense, of course. Men are just as fit and capable to raise small children as women are, if only they had the will and the encouragement. The only thing that men can’t do is to breastfeed, which is why it might be more convenient for the woman to stay at home during the first 6-12 months. But this biological circumstance gives no excuse for continuing in this way when the baby grows older. Moreover, thanks to the invention of breast-pumps, men can in fact nowadays take care of this aspect as well.

For me, the decision to take a break from my career within the Swedish Government Offices and follow my wife to Cape Verde as a spouse and full time dad was easy, and I haven’t regretted it one bit. The experience of taking care of our little guy and to see him grow, take his first steps, develop new skills and personality, learn to speak (in our case Swedish, Finnish and Portuguese at the same time) is nothing but fascinating, and invaluable.

This is not to say that being a full time parent is easy. Those who might think that being at home with the kids equals leisure and fun only are very much mistaken. Changing nappies, cleaning up all kinds of mess, making baby food and having to get up in the middle of the night to comfort a baby can sometimes be very tiring. What is more: the level of responsibility is immeasurable. Being responsible for a baby’s or a toddler’s safety, sustenance, clothing, hygiene, physical and psychological development etc is a HUGE task. The predominating idea that paid employment is somehow more important or valuable to society than raising kids is completely flawed.

To be a full-time dad anywhere is great. But to be a full-time daddy in Cape Verde is even better. During my first paternal leave, when we were living in Belgium, I was responsible for almost every home duty, including cleaning, dish-washing, cooking etc. This would be the normal situation for the parent staying at home. As expats living in Cape Verde however, it is almost compulsory to employ a housekeeper. This means that I am liberated from many of these ordinary obligations, and I can therefore concentrate even more on fatherhood. Moreover, we have employed a babysitter who takes care of our little one now and then. This gives me some free time which is normally a very rare luxury in this area. Thanks to this, I benefit from all the advantages of being a full time dad, while still finding some time of my own, for instance to write a few blogs.

So, what are the downsides of being a stay at home dad in Cape Verde? I can only list a few, and they all have to do with other peoples prejudice and expectations. For instance, at times I have received surprised stares, laughs and comments in the streets of Praia when taking walks with the baby pram. I remember two women once passing by who even offered their help to take care of the baby. Also, quite a few people who have been unaware of our family situation have taken for granted that I am the one with a job, and addressed my wife as a housewife. I must confess that this is a bit annoying. Other than that, life as a house-daddy is not difficult here.

It should be obvious by now that I am quite proud to be a stay-at-home-dad. And I call on all fathers to try it on for size for as long as they possibly can; ideally to (at least) the same extent as the mother. If you are working, take parental leave. If you are unemployed, take full responsibility for the kids for a while. And if you somehow find that being a full time father is incompatible with your opinion of what a man should or shouldn’t do, get over it! It’s not worth loosing your time with your kids just because of an obsolete prejudice. I’m telling you, you won’t regret it. It is a true privilege to be a full time dad.

Small scale philanthropy: does it work?

According to Wikipedia, the word philanthropy means “the act of donating money, goods, time, or effort to support a charitable cause, usually over an extended period of time and in regard to a defined objective. In a more fundamental sense, philanthropy may encompass any altruistic activity which is intended to promote good or improve human quality.”

Somehow, I have always related philanthropy to rich people. Rich like in stinking rich. People such as Bill Gates or George Soros, serving the noble cause of helping poor and deprived people by using part of their enormous wealth to improve their lives rather than just buying more sports cars, jewelry and villas (or whatever rich people buy for themselves).

But I have reconsidered, realizing what is really quite self-evident when you give it some thought: philanthropy might work just as well (or probably even better) on a smaller scale, without creating large foundations and employing hordes of bureaucrats just to manage and supervise the money.

By Western standards, I am not rich. But by Cape Verdean standards, every westerner living here is rich. One day one of our night guards (not the same guy as described in my previous entry about Christmas stress) approached me and asked if I would be in a position to give a contribution to him in order to build a simple house for him and his family.

My first reaction was negative, of course. Philanthropy and altruism does not come very easy in the western culture, unfortunately – somehow characteristics like doubt, selfishness, greed, suspiciousness and cynicism tend to be stronger most of the time. But after giving it some further thought and discussing the matter with my wife, I decided to take a closer look at his request.

I started out by doing some further research. What was his life situation? What kind of house was he talking about? Was he to be trusted? Could he handle money? Did he show any indications of drug abuse?

So I visited his home and family (a girlfriend and a 4 month old baby), and discovered that they lived in a 10 square meter room without windows, ventilation, water and sanitation. In fact, I would best describe the room as a rat hole. I particularly remember the stench, and I thought to myself that no one should have to live like this, especially not with a little baby. For this, they pay about 40 euros a month, which is a great deal considering his monthly salary of about 100 euros from the guard company where he is employed (a salary which I find remarkably low by the way, considering the high fees we have to pay to this company for its services).

I then examined the location where he wanted to build his house: a small piece of land in the outskirts of Praia, overlooking large part of the town. A basic concrete foundation was already in place, which I took as a sign of his personal commitment to the project.

My conclusion was that the guy seemed to be determined, honest and responsible, and very serious about this project. The next question was of course: what would the construction of this sort of building cost? So I asked for a detailed budget plan as a basis for further discussion. It turned out that the budget was reasonable – around 1000 euros for the complete construction.

Together with my wife, we worked out the following proposal for him and his family to consider: We would provide him the money he needed to build the house, up to a limit of 1000 euros, whereof 50% would be a contribution and the other half would be a long term loan to be paid back monthly as soon as he moved in (the same amount that he currently pays for the room they rent). The budget would be divided into four, and after spending each quarter of the sum, he would provide receipts or other proof of payments for all of the expenses. The plan was inspired by the idea of micro-crediting, a method that seems to become more and more widespread in development aid. He accepted the terms more than willingly, and we wrote a simple contract to keep it all in writing.

This all took place in November 2006. Today the house is built, and the family moved in last week. By all means it is no palace but rather a crude and simple concrete building with one large room, a door and a window, in the middle of a steep slope, partly covered with garbage and junk. But it is a home that they own, considerably better than the rathole where they lived before, and with a potential for gradual improvement - “poca á poco” as they say here.

I am intrigued to see if we will get back the part of the sum that we lent him, through monthly payments. I know many people governed by doubt and cynicism, who would tell me that we will never see that money again, and that, even if we did, we are completely crazy to give away so much money to a stranger without receiving anything in return.

However, I would argue that it actually already has given me a good return. I have learned a lot about the everyday life of the Cape Verdeans, and I have made a new friend. Also, it fills me with a tremendous joy to see the concrete result of this project and of the idea that I have contributed to improving the living conditions for this family and for the little baby. All for the cost of a plane ticket Praia - Lisbonor 5 pairs of Diesel jeans. And I come realize that the art of giving, the ability of generosity, is probably significantly underrated in our western society.

My conclusion is so far that this project has been very rewarding both for this family and for me. I remain convinced that the loan will be repaid. And that small scale philanthropy actually works. At least until otherwise is proven.

On security, the human nature and moral principles

The following could be read on BBC News some days ago (extract):

“Two killed in Kenyan carjacking

Armed men shot dead two female passengers as they carjacked a US embassy vehicle near the Kenyan capital, Nairobi. At least one of the women appeared to have been shot for not getting out of the vehicle quickly enough. Carjackings are common in and around the Kenyan capital but they usually take place at night.”

When we started to look for a new posting abroad, we were seriously considering Nairobi as an option. We both love Kenya and its people; it is a truly amazing country. The main reason that we nevertheless didn’t pursue this in the end was related to safety. We knew that the rate of violent crime in Nairobi is very high. We were also aware that even if you are lucky enough not to be directly affected by the violence, your everyday life will become considerably restrained, living behind bars, hiring armed guards 24/7, and being forced to live with a constant fear – if not for your self, certainly for your family members. Adding to this the risk of being injured or killed in a traffic accident, the choice was clear.

Against this background, I was touched by the story of the two women. It could have been me and my family. The fact that someone can end the lives of two women just to get hold of a car is of course incomprehensible to most of us. And very frightening.

This is not only a problem in some developing countries. When I arrived to New York for my first UN meeting in the mid 90s, I was told to take great care, avoid certain areas and never walk alone during nighttime. Crime rates were surging, and New York was considered one of the most dangerous cities in the US, if not in the world. I used to think that the TV series the Hill Street Blues gave an accurate description of the crime scene in New York – and maybe it did. I recall being almost terrified one particular night when, convinced by a friend, we decided to go to a ragged night club somewhere in the Bronx.

Before and during the time we lived in New York (2000-2003) however, crime rates went down dramatically. New York nowadays is considered one of the safest mega-cities worldwide. Many give credit for this to the Mayor of New York at the time, Rudolph Giuliani, who was said to introduce an innovative law enforcement system to quench minor offenses and thereby eventually avoiding also heavy crimes. Others say that police tactics had little to do with it, and that the reduced crime was a consequence of increased economic wealth. Yet others would argue that the crime didn’t actually disappear at all, but only moved outside the city borders. I am not sure which account is more correct – perhaps all of them.

Cape Verde, our new temporarily permanent home, has a widespread (and generally very well deserved) reputation of being a friendly and peaceful place. Nevertheless, contrary to the general feeling of ease and safety actually experienced when moving around in Praia, security seems to have become an issue also here – be it on a very different scale than in Kenya. Burglaries and thefts are clearly on the rise, and we have heard numerous stories about people that have suffered from looting, pick-pocketing or break-ins. Also violence seems to be increasing. Recently, an 18 year old youth went home and grabbed a kitchen knife, went back to school and stabbed a class-mate to death in one of the gymnasiums in Praia. The event was the talk of the town last week, and most people seem to say that this deed would have been impossible some years ago. They see it as a striking sign of the rise of violence in Cape Verde.

I could be recalled that some decades ago, Nairobi was known to one of the safest countries in Africa. Could it be that Praia is taking a similar route as Nairobi? I would hope not. But the fact is that I write this text behind massive iron bars. Despite my aversion against prison-like homes, our office space, like the rest of the house, is heavily protected. Behind me, the small back yard is completely sheltered by high concrete walls, partly covered by glass and nails on top to avoid unwelcome visitors. Following the advice of the UN, we have hired (unarmed) guards almost 24/7, increased the height of the outer wall and changed the security lock.

Philosophically, all of this makes me wonder about the “true nature” of human beings. Are we murderous and selfish creatures, killing and injuring at will? Or are we kind and empathic, caring and generous at heart? And if we really are born generous and good-natured, how can we as humans carry out such atrocities as we apparently do, in so great numbers? How can in certain situations the most precious asset we have, human life, become of so little value?

As far as I can tell, people who commit crimes of the sort described above are driven by a sense of utter despair and hopelessness. Also, they probably believe they can do it with little or no consequence. I am quite convinced that man is born neither “good” nor “evil”, but becomes product of the society he is raised in. We are no doubt biologically predisposed in one direction or the other (just look at the obvious gender differences when it comes to the use of violence), but in the end I think we are all capable of being either Mother Theresa or Adolf Hitler, or anything in between. How we actually turn out will be the effect of the people we meet, the values we are taught and the society we learn to know.

I would also hold the view that all persons are responsible for their actions. A “bad childhood” can not excuse actions that bring suffering or death to another. Still, the question remains whether a person who has had no education or experience in moral values should be held fully responsible for actions that go against those values. Maybe this was the case in the Nairobi killings.

In order to seriously abate violence, you therefore need a society based on universally accepted moral principles that are effectively taught to and applied by everybody, as well as an efficient law enforcement system that puts those who violate these principles before justice. But this is far from enough. The same society also needs to nurture a sense of responsibility, integrity and empathy, and it must be founded on equal opportunities and inclusiveness. Otherwise, you will still find people desperate enough to commit violent crime, as an act of despair.

How then to define the correct moral principles? That is more difficult than one would think. I would, like the utilitarian philosopher Bentham, contest any set of pre-given or inherent moral principles, such as those deriving from the world religions or (however ingeniously) suggested by some other philosophers like Kant. Such principle would never work, since they are bound to be outdated, biased and skewed.

Rather, I would advocate a combined utilitarian and relativistic approach, using a consensus-building process to identify (and subsequently possibly revise) principles that universally minimizes fear for death and suffering.

In fact, such a set of principles already exists. The UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights (http://www.unhchr.ch/udhr/index.htm) was adopted by the UN General Assembly in 1948. I consider this the best attempt we have so far to lay down universal basic principles to guide our society morally. However, the Declaration is not legally binding, and any analysis of the state of the world today would conclude that it is far from fully applied or enforced everywhere – not even by some of the wealthiest and democratic states themselves. Nor is it taught to everyone. One day, hopefully, it will become fully integrated into national law in all countries, and a real source of security for all human beings.

As finalize this text, I learn from the internet that over 120 people have been killed due to a suicide bomber driving a truck with explosives into a crowded marketplace in Baghdad. Yet another act of incomprehensible, meaningless and callous violence. It is so easy to become cynical and to resign in the face of these cruelties – but that would be the same as to give in to the perpetrators of violence. For cynicism equals giving up hope, thereby indirectly contributing to continued violence.