Before leaving Norway I decided to splash out and by an HD video camera, or to be more precise, this one (Canon HF100). It works on flash memory and I bought a 16GB Sandisk Ultra II SDHC card which I'm using with it.
I've imported some recordings (AVCHD) on to my laptop. When I watch these recordings on the laptop, particularly the ones with a bit om motion do not flow well at all. I attributed this to the laptop (lack of RAM, poor CPU), but the problem persists even when I export these files to the MPEG-2 format (I have tried converting with ImageMixer 3 SE as well as Nero Vision). This I don't understand. If anyone has a clue as to why I don't get a better result I would be delighted to hear what you have to say.
If you don't want to post comments here, you can email them to me at haakon.aasprong(at)gmail.com
BTW! The recordings look fine when I view them on the camcorder.
Here's an example of what I'm talking about (4,5 MB):
Edit: Of course, if this runs smoothly on your computer I'd be interested in hearing that as well. That would locate the problem in the playback on my computer.
30.7.08
27.7.08
Bathing, dining and biding our time
After a week in Vincy, things seem to be somewhat at a standstill. I was off to a good start on Tuesday when we headed to Kingstown and I was able to get five minutes with Arthur Bobb, head of the Fairtrade unit of WINFA (Windward Islands Farmers' Association), the cooperative in which (I believe) all Vincentian banana farmers are organized. I had been trying to contact Mr. Bobb as well as Renwick Rose, head of WINFA, from Norway, without any luck and was afraid of the reception I would receive by just showing up there and stating my purpose of doing a long-term study on banana farmers. My fears were baseless. Mr. Bobb apologized that my emails had gone unanswered and explained that big things have been happening here lately, particularly with the move to include all WINFA bananas under the Fairtrade scheme and with the ongoing negotiations with the EU and WTO about the dismantling of preferential trade agreements which can carry huge repercussions for Caribbean banana farmers. Mr. Bobb took the initiative to set up a meeting where I could get to know some key persons in the organisation and where we together could stake out a course for my research. The meeting has now been scheduled for 1.30 AM tomorrow (Tuesday). I am elated and a bit nervous.
One of the things i hope will come out of this meeting is some idea of which areas of the island will be best suited for localizing my research. Realizing that it will most likely be some time before we know exactly where to build our nest we have decided to rent an apartment in the Calliaqua area as a temporary fix. Since Tuesday most of the time has been passed apartment hunting, waiting (for food, for Mr. Bobb to call, for Ella to fall asleep or wake up) and swimming in the sea. There seems to be loads of available apartments but still they are tricky to find as people rely on word of mouth rather than advertisements. The way to do it is to ask around. Quite a few people know someone who knows someone who has a place to let. We had a few options but opted for what would be the most conveient with Ella, that is an apartment close to the main road and public transport.
Living in a hotel when you're not on holiday can be quite sad, really, especially if the hotel is largely empty. Ours is, as are, I believe, most Vincentian hotels at the time being, for reasons I do not know. As for the meals, the only proper restaurants are in Kingstown, which is about half an hour away. We've tried pretty much every item on the hotel restaurant menu and while the food is alright, there is the waiting for the meals. Waiting for half an hour for breakfast, lunch and dinner can be somewhat of a trial when you are entertaining a 9 months old baby. The people here are really good with Ella, though. Yesterday she charmed two of the cleaning ladies by charging at them in the hallway and then refusing to be handed back to her mother. The same two ladies told us about the food stalls that are set up in Calliaqua on Saturdays. We weren't difficult to persuade to give them a go, and before we knew it, a Jamaican guy named Norman (one of the few fellow hotel guests) had volunteered to take us there.
Calliaqua, Norman declares, is the southernmost point of St. Vincent (although I beg to differ, having since then studied the map. It is close to the southermost point, though) and is a small town only a 10 minute ride from our hotel. Pulling up by an open-ended white tent at the end of a footbal pitch, Norman hoots out of the open window at the people sitting inside. They hoot back at him, making funny guttural sounds like sports fans. Obviously Norman knows these people, perhaps from when he was working at the island some years ago. We're welcomed like friends of friends. On metallic folding chairs inside the tent sits four ladies, a young man and a girl. The ambience is good and the talk light-hearted - no worries clouding the atmosphere. Silje and I both immediately feel at ease. I am thinking that "This is it! This is the real Caribbean. This is what things look like outside the resort areas." Even the food is relievingly good. A bit greasy perhaps, but exotic to a Norwegian palate with dishes like smoked herring, black fish, salt fish, dumplings, sweet potatoes and plantains. There are also the safer options of chicken, turkey and pork. We try a bit of everything and do not come across anything we don't like. A can of the local beer, Hairoun, makes the experience complete. We chat while we eat, forgetting about the heat. This fieldwork is going to be a breeze.
On returning to the hotel a bit later we stumble upon Ton, the Dutch general manager whom we've chatted a bit with earlier. We tell him about the trip and the food and how we enjoyed it, and he lets slip a remark: "you just wait till you've been here for a year". It is innocent enough and not to be made much of perhaps, but still, it stays with me. I think it is because it reminds me of a kind of ex-pat arrogance which I met in Sri Lanka too. Back then I made the big mistake of lodging with an American who mainly hung out with ex-pats. A man whose Lankan acquaintances did not extend much beyond a selection of the Anglicized elite and who in meeting others made little effort at understanding where they were coming from. I spent a lot of time dodging him and his exiled comrades. After a week in St. Vincent I've run into that kind of people here as well (and I'm not speaking of the hotel manager).
Of course it is completely understandable that ex-pats get together and complain about certain aspects of their host countries, whether it be food, habits, weather or whatever. This is probably the case with most immigrant communities, too. Nobody loves everything about an adopted country and when certain things bug you there is surely therapeutic value in it bugging others as well. Yet, when these things are all you see or talk about, you are in a dangerous place - whether you are exiled by choice or necessity (although it is by far more disgusting in the first case). It is easy to give into a kind of haughty bantering of that which is different or "backwards", but I am going to remind myself that I do not want to be that guy.
In a sense St. Vincent is the tropical paradise you all probably imagine it is, which I guess is why the ex-pats stick around, too. There is a warm climate, beaches, beautiful ocean vistas, coral reefs, and lush forests. And we enjoy those things but they are more of a bonus, really. They are not why we came. Knowing that we are going to live on this island for a year, our main concerns are that we get along well with people, that we are safe, that Ella is happy and that I get good material for the research. These are the things that have kept us preoccupied while living like tourists.
BTW: Those of you who can read Norwegian may be interested in reading Siljes report at Trollheimsporten.
One of the things i hope will come out of this meeting is some idea of which areas of the island will be best suited for localizing my research. Realizing that it will most likely be some time before we know exactly where to build our nest we have decided to rent an apartment in the Calliaqua area as a temporary fix. Since Tuesday most of the time has been passed apartment hunting, waiting (for food, for Mr. Bobb to call, for Ella to fall asleep or wake up) and swimming in the sea. There seems to be loads of available apartments but still they are tricky to find as people rely on word of mouth rather than advertisements. The way to do it is to ask around. Quite a few people know someone who knows someone who has a place to let. We had a few options but opted for what would be the most conveient with Ella, that is an apartment close to the main road and public transport.
Living in a hotel when you're not on holiday can be quite sad, really, especially if the hotel is largely empty. Ours is, as are, I believe, most Vincentian hotels at the time being, for reasons I do not know. As for the meals, the only proper restaurants are in Kingstown, which is about half an hour away. We've tried pretty much every item on the hotel restaurant menu and while the food is alright, there is the waiting for the meals. Waiting for half an hour for breakfast, lunch and dinner can be somewhat of a trial when you are entertaining a 9 months old baby. The people here are really good with Ella, though. Yesterday she charmed two of the cleaning ladies by charging at them in the hallway and then refusing to be handed back to her mother. The same two ladies told us about the food stalls that are set up in Calliaqua on Saturdays. We weren't difficult to persuade to give them a go, and before we knew it, a Jamaican guy named Norman (one of the few fellow hotel guests) had volunteered to take us there.
Calliaqua, Norman declares, is the southernmost point of St. Vincent (although I beg to differ, having since then studied the map. It is close to the southermost point, though) and is a small town only a 10 minute ride from our hotel. Pulling up by an open-ended white tent at the end of a footbal pitch, Norman hoots out of the open window at the people sitting inside. They hoot back at him, making funny guttural sounds like sports fans. Obviously Norman knows these people, perhaps from when he was working at the island some years ago. We're welcomed like friends of friends. On metallic folding chairs inside the tent sits four ladies, a young man and a girl. The ambience is good and the talk light-hearted - no worries clouding the atmosphere. Silje and I both immediately feel at ease. I am thinking that "This is it! This is the real Caribbean. This is what things look like outside the resort areas." Even the food is relievingly good. A bit greasy perhaps, but exotic to a Norwegian palate with dishes like smoked herring, black fish, salt fish, dumplings, sweet potatoes and plantains. There are also the safer options of chicken, turkey and pork. We try a bit of everything and do not come across anything we don't like. A can of the local beer, Hairoun, makes the experience complete. We chat while we eat, forgetting about the heat. This fieldwork is going to be a breeze.
On returning to the hotel a bit later we stumble upon Ton, the Dutch general manager whom we've chatted a bit with earlier. We tell him about the trip and the food and how we enjoyed it, and he lets slip a remark: "you just wait till you've been here for a year". It is innocent enough and not to be made much of perhaps, but still, it stays with me. I think it is because it reminds me of a kind of ex-pat arrogance which I met in Sri Lanka too. Back then I made the big mistake of lodging with an American who mainly hung out with ex-pats. A man whose Lankan acquaintances did not extend much beyond a selection of the Anglicized elite and who in meeting others made little effort at understanding where they were coming from. I spent a lot of time dodging him and his exiled comrades. After a week in St. Vincent I've run into that kind of people here as well (and I'm not speaking of the hotel manager).
Of course it is completely understandable that ex-pats get together and complain about certain aspects of their host countries, whether it be food, habits, weather or whatever. This is probably the case with most immigrant communities, too. Nobody loves everything about an adopted country and when certain things bug you there is surely therapeutic value in it bugging others as well. Yet, when these things are all you see or talk about, you are in a dangerous place - whether you are exiled by choice or necessity (although it is by far more disgusting in the first case). It is easy to give into a kind of haughty bantering of that which is different or "backwards", but I am going to remind myself that I do not want to be that guy.
In a sense St. Vincent is the tropical paradise you all probably imagine it is, which I guess is why the ex-pats stick around, too. There is a warm climate, beaches, beautiful ocean vistas, coral reefs, and lush forests. And we enjoy those things but they are more of a bonus, really. They are not why we came. Knowing that we are going to live on this island for a year, our main concerns are that we get along well with people, that we are safe, that Ella is happy and that I get good material for the research. These are the things that have kept us preoccupied while living like tourists.
BTW: Those of you who can read Norwegian may be interested in reading Siljes report at Trollheimsporten.
24.7.08
Three years down the road
Alas, the anthropologist blogs again! And why...? Perhaps because the anthropologist would rather share experiences with living people than with notebooks and fieldnote databases? Because writing field notes is exhausting work demanding accuracy and attention to detail rather than dwelling on vague impressions? Yeah, something like that. In the three years that have passed after leaving Sri Lanka the thought of blogging has hardly crossed my mind. Yet here I am, doing it again, on the fourth day after arriving for a new fieldwork, this time in the tiny eastern Caribbean island of St. Vincent.
A short recap (or an update/introduction to those who don't know me all that well):
Fairtrade is getting to be a big thing - no longer easily dismissed as niche markets. The estimated total retail value of Fairtrade certified products almost tripled from € 832 million in 2004 to € 2,381 million in 2007. The annual growth in sales has been around 40 % for the past five years (FLO-I). This explosive growth occurs while the WTO and champions of neoliberalism are continuing to push for what they see as fair trade, that is free trade. In the Caribbean context this is felt severely by the marginal banana farmers who are losing preferential access to European markets as the WTO demands an end to such practices. The WTO has ruled that the tariffs leveled by the EU on non ACP banana-producing countries is unfair, which means that the American based multinationals Dole, Chiquita and Del Monte, who already control most trade in bananas and who get their bananas from the larger and more effective Latin-American banana plantations will grab even larger market shares. The household based Caribbean banana farms can never compete with these supersized plantations. Much as a result of the Banana wars (the term used to refer to the long-lasting disagreement between the EU on the one side and Latin American producers of dollar bananas and the US on the other. For recent developments, see e.g. here) Vincentian farmers started seeking Fairtrade certification, seeing it as the only way to stay in business. Today the entire banana industry of the island is switching to Fairtrade in order to stay afloat.
I am here to see how this is working out. But rather than doing an impact study on Fairtrade per sé, I am interested in Fairtrade as one example of standardisation of agricultural practices. Another example, of course, is organic farming, not practiced here now (but perhaps sometime in the future). There are other standards as well, such as GlobalGAP, and then there are EU regulations. There are in fact heaps of people who directly or indirectly want a say in how bananas (and other agricultural products) are produced and my task is to attain some idea on how all these demands are felt and dealt with by the farmers themselves. That is the short version, anyway.
Before wiping the dust off this blog I re-read the last post I wrote in Sri Lanka. So much has happened since then, in my life and in the lives of the students I learned to know there, and I have still not been able to go back for a visit. In fact, I planned to do parts of this research on Fairtrade tea estates in the Sri Lankan up-country, but came to realize that the main reasons I had for doing that were not professional but personal. And with Sri Lanka slipping back into war, taking Ella and Silje there began to seem like a poor idea. I decided to rewrite my project and do the entire thing in the Caribbean. It was a decision saturated with guilt just for being in the position to choose in the first place. It was another tentacle of the Kilopus letting go, and it is with some reluctance I am preparing to wrap myself to this island in stead. Yet, here we are, and updates on our progress will follow. Stay tuned!
A short recap (or an update/introduction to those who don't know me all that well):
- August 2005: Returned to Trondheim, Norway from M.Sc. fieldwork in Sri Lanka
- June 2006: Turned in and defended the thesis ("Making a Home Away from Home - On Up-country Tamil Identity and Social Complexity at a Sri lankan University")
- 2006-2007: Held part-time teaching position at NTNU
- July 2007: Bought an appartment with Silje
- October 2007: Ella Leona was born
- November 2007: Took up position as PhD Research Fellow at NTNU
- March 2008: Married Silje
- July 2008: Arrived in St. Vincent along with Silje and Ella to do fieldwork for my doctoral thesis
Fairtrade is getting to be a big thing - no longer easily dismissed as niche markets. The estimated total retail value of Fairtrade certified products almost tripled from € 832 million in 2004 to € 2,381 million in 2007. The annual growth in sales has been around 40 % for the past five years (FLO-I). This explosive growth occurs while the WTO and champions of neoliberalism are continuing to push for what they see as fair trade, that is free trade. In the Caribbean context this is felt severely by the marginal banana farmers who are losing preferential access to European markets as the WTO demands an end to such practices. The WTO has ruled that the tariffs leveled by the EU on non ACP banana-producing countries is unfair, which means that the American based multinationals Dole, Chiquita and Del Monte, who already control most trade in bananas and who get their bananas from the larger and more effective Latin-American banana plantations will grab even larger market shares. The household based Caribbean banana farms can never compete with these supersized plantations. Much as a result of the Banana wars (the term used to refer to the long-lasting disagreement between the EU on the one side and Latin American producers of dollar bananas and the US on the other. For recent developments, see e.g. here) Vincentian farmers started seeking Fairtrade certification, seeing it as the only way to stay in business. Today the entire banana industry of the island is switching to Fairtrade in order to stay afloat.
I am here to see how this is working out. But rather than doing an impact study on Fairtrade per sé, I am interested in Fairtrade as one example of standardisation of agricultural practices. Another example, of course, is organic farming, not practiced here now (but perhaps sometime in the future). There are other standards as well, such as GlobalGAP, and then there are EU regulations. There are in fact heaps of people who directly or indirectly want a say in how bananas (and other agricultural products) are produced and my task is to attain some idea on how all these demands are felt and dealt with by the farmers themselves. That is the short version, anyway.
Before wiping the dust off this blog I re-read the last post I wrote in Sri Lanka. So much has happened since then, in my life and in the lives of the students I learned to know there, and I have still not been able to go back for a visit. In fact, I planned to do parts of this research on Fairtrade tea estates in the Sri Lankan up-country, but came to realize that the main reasons I had for doing that were not professional but personal. And with Sri Lanka slipping back into war, taking Ella and Silje there began to seem like a poor idea. I decided to rewrite my project and do the entire thing in the Caribbean. It was a decision saturated with guilt just for being in the position to choose in the first place. It was another tentacle of the Kilopus letting go, and it is with some reluctance I am preparing to wrap myself to this island in stead. Yet, here we are, and updates on our progress will follow. Stay tuned!
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