#climatedoc2017

By Amina Ly, Environmental Science

I’m finding it incredibly difficult to start off this entry given that this is the final post of our dialogue. To some extent, I want to recall a singular experience that allows me to wrap up this trip neatly and place a bow on top. On the other hand, each of our individual experiences were so completely different—especially on the final day—that I don’t think anything I would ever write could be perfectly representative of our last day as a dialogue group. I am writing this after a full month of travel—from Singapore to Jakarta, and all over Bali—and I still have a hard time believing that I, and nearly 40 others, just completed this incredible experience. Our final day was a free one, and I spent much of it floating from place to place trying to squeeze in the last of my preferred activities.

One of my preferred activities is forcing myself to shut off my brain for an hour or so and sit on the beach. I’ve never been in ocean water clear enough to see my feet at the bottom.

I personally started my day with a late breakfast and one final assignment: War Game 2 Policy Document. It was the final time I would spend my time working on an assignment while wistfully staring outside at the gorgeous weather. Despite my desire to run out into the ocean, I found that writing our final document was a rewarding experience. I was able to sit down with my group after a few days and see our negotiations in a new light. In the heat of the war games, decisions made by delegations are generally met with an instinctive reaction—be it fully negative or positive. However, now that we had a few days to reflect, we were able to tweak our policy recommendations slightly to work effectively with the decisions we knew were made by other groups.

Casual breakfast and policy document writing views

After saying goodbye to the first group of students that left us a bit earlier, I walked to a convenience store to grab snacks and water, leaving our Nusa Dua resort compound and returning to the now-familiar view of small Warung shops, fruit carts, and the occasional Mini Mart. Following that, I decided to grab a few souvenirs as well from the neighboring flea market. The small shops consistently reminded me of Bodegas in New York, or the small corner stores I would visit as a child. Even when they’re empty they carry a sense of community and hospitality that I always seek out when visiting new places.

*Desperately searches for a ukulele, finds every other instrument available*

I found myself making these types of comparisons multiples times throughout our trip. In what ways were the lives of the local Balinese people the same as my own? It’s incredibly easy to visit a new place and point out every way in which my life in different, but finding the subtle similarities has been more rewarding.

By Mollie Scott, Civil Engineering

I awoke to the beating equatorial sun streaming into my hotel bedroom through gaps in the window blinds; across the island, a dozen or so of my classmates watched that same sun rise from the top of Mt. Batur. While others were clothed in gym clothes and black volcanic ash, I pulled on the best “smart casual” outfit I could scavenge from my remaining clean clothes and headed to the hotel lobby. There I slid into a car with a broken air conditioning system with Professor Ganguly, Udit, and Professor Kemal Taruc and went off to Denpasar to meet with the rector, or president, of a local university. Can you pick the odd one out of the group?

Upon returning from an interesting meeting, I enjoyed a long, lazy lunch with friends at the poolside bar. Those brave souls who had departed at 1am for their sunrise hike were justifiably tired, so I fed off of their low energy and capitalized on some much needed relaxation. We exchanged thoughts of the struggles of long term travel; you never went to stop running to see and experience all that your temporary home has to offer, but sometimes you just need to sit and catch your breath. Traveling is a remarkable way to explore your limits, but we must be sensitive to them as well.

After a riveting game of beach volleyball featuring three semi-pro Korean players who were patient enough to play a few rounds with us, we headed to the pool and met up with a majority of the group. Here, relaxing at the swim up bar and chatting with new friends about our post-dialogue plans, the first inklings of nostalgia began to settle in.

By Francesca Brecha, Civil Engineering

I woke up for the third time, feeling nervous and tense and positive that I had overslept.

Checking my phone once again, I saw that it was still only 6:30 a.m. and that my alarm wouldn’tbe going off for another half hour. I finally gave up on rest and got out of bed to get ready for theday, beginning by choosing clothes to complement the makeshift “Make America Great Again” hat glaring at me from my table. Today was the day I would try to staunchly defend Donald Trump’s decision to leave the Paris Climate Accord, a daunting task for my quiet and dedicatedly environmentalist self.

I could write a good deal about the preparation effort which our team put into the second War Game, but that was over now. It was time to put all of that work to the test. Getting ready to defend the official stance of the United States government actually taught me a lot about the ways in which we choose to present and cherry-pick data without making anything up. Not to mention, my team mates were extremely clever and hard-working, and our group dynamic felt balanced throughout both preparations and the Game itself. In the end, I was extremely happy to be on the US team. However, as I prepared for the first presentation, I was very aggressively questioning why I had chosen to play this role.

Contrary to my expectation, my short performance at the beginning of the War Game was the least stressful part of the experience. There was immediate backlash against our team, unwillingness to negotiate, and ultimately a plot twist from the Small Island Nation team which no one could have seen coming. Emotions ran high all day, and I found myself frustrated with the other teams, the administration, and myself at different times throughout the experience.

Sometimes it felt as though our trajectory was veering off of the realistic path for a simulation like this one. However, taking a step back made me realize how powerful this exercise turned out to be. This was our last day of work together and seeing how everyone came together was powerful to me. It’s hard to imagine that all of these lovely, vibrant people were strangers to me only a month ago, and most will be strangers to me again after just a few more days.

Pictured: The throwing of a wrench into everybody’s plan

By Ian McLarney, Finance

War Game 2 left me feeling frustrated. While I am proud of how my team represented the European Union and am empowered by my new knowledge of the EU's efforts to combat climate change, I am upset by the parallels between my experience with this exercise and reality — the result of the US withdrawal from the Paris Climate Agreement.

After a smooth round of first presentations, War Game 2 quickly devolved from an attempt to mitigate the effects of the US withdrawal on island nations to an effort to avoid militarization and nuclear proliferation. Specifically, the team representing island nations created an alliance with Russia, which wasn't represented at the War Game, and with the team representing China, whereby both nations would be allowed to build military bases in Cuba and the South China Sea in exchange for commitments to build or finance infrastructure improvements, which they considered of paramount importance. However, the net effect of these alliances is clearly destabilizing — it is a clear affront to the United States' national security interests and international peace efforts more generally — and they distorted War Game 2's intention to increase resilience in the world's most vulnerable populations.

In reality, President Trump's decision to withdraw the US from the Paris Climate Agreement is also dangerously destabilizing and jeapardizes the largest environmental coalition ever assembled. At 14.4%, the United States is the second largest contributor to global greenhouse gas emissions, and rejecting responsibility for reducing the environmental impact of our (I use "our" because I am an American citizen) economy is ignorant, shortsighted and just bad business. Which is why any reference to Donald Trump as a good businessman is misleading! He fails to recognize the positive correlation between environmental stewardship and long-term business profitability, and he overlooks thousands of businesses that are already successfully shifting their focus from profit maximization to stakeholder management, in which social and/or environmental benefit are pursued as vigorously as their bottom lines.

The truth is that I am scared. I'm scared not only because storms, floods, and droughts are becoming more intense and the threat of tidal inundation increases but also because our nation's position as an international leader in diplomacy, science, and technology has been tarnished. Our revolutionary experiment with constitutional democracy garnered admiration and respect, while this decision has inspired confusion and scorn. Denying our role in global climate change denies our humanitarian responsibility to care for our planet and all of its people, and it is our own young members of government and the workforce, aspirational college graduates, and future generations of Americans who will best the brunt of its consequences from a lesser standing in the modern world order.

By Elliot Horen, Information Science and Marketing

There are some on this trip who rise with the sun, enjoy a wholesome breakfast of fresh fruit, wheat toast, and clean ocean air, and meditate to center themselves as they mentally prepare for the day. 

I have no rational explanation for these people, who must float in a higher plane of magical realism, but I do have some jealously. 

My alarm chirped at 8:48 AM, leaving me twelve minutes to center myself and no time to eat. 

The alarm marked the start of the morning triage. Locating a clean shirt: difficult but essential. Finding clean shorts: a poor use of limited resources. Getting my contacts into the right eyes: code red. 

I blinked and I was on the bus headed for Udayana University. 

We arrived to a leafy campus twenty minutes from our hotel and were ushered into a large auditorium. After learning about the university and listening to several presentations about Bali and the unique climatic challenges here, we asked questions of a panel of presenters. I've started to become familiar with the slight chuckle of an academic asked about the Donald Trump. It's a quiet laugh inevitably followed by a polite statement like, "We don't see eye to eye." When it comes to politics, Indonesian professors are apparently fond of understatement. 

One boxed lunch and a thirty minute bus ride later, we were back in a classroom at our hotel for a session that focused on historical building practices. We learned about the way earlier civilizations constructed homes and other structures in harmony with the environment, no LEED standards required.

By Caroline Ghio, Chemical Engineering

With a full day ahead of us, I decided to start the day with breakfast in our hotel, Hotel Mercure Sanur Beach. The view was so gorgeous that I had to go down to the ocean after breakfast to walk along the beach and take a few pictures.

Our day officially began at 9:00 in our hotel lobby where we gathered and soon after boarded a bus to Udayana University. It was about a 45-minute drive, the highlight of which was the spotting of a group of mangroves along the banks of a river! We read a lot about mangroves in preparation for our first war game, and in fact recommended extensive planting of them as a strategy to protect flood prone Jakarta, so we were pretty excited upon seeing them.

When we got to the university, we scaled three flights of stairs and entered a large room with windows along two walls, and a stage in the front. A series of introductions began with an introduction/welcome speech by the Dean of Udayana University, who stressed an interest in future research collaborations. Next, Udit gave a brief speech thanking the university for welcoming us and reinforcing interest in scientific collaboration. Kara and Lindsey then gave a brief overview of what the dialogue students have been doing in their classes and Lizzy spoke about the SIRF projects. Professor Ganguly also gave a brief introduction and then had some dialogue students introduce themselves. Finally, Professor Majumber also introduced himself and shared his background and that of his university.

The presentations began with a slideshow about Bali, which was shared with us by the Dean. He included information on Bali’s climate and population, and also described the university; university information included details about the campus, programs, professors, and research and collaborations. Next, Professor Mahendra gave a presentation on environmental issues in Bali. Finally, Udit gave a presentation on the work being done in the SDS Lab at Northeastern University.

At the conclusion of the three presentations, there was a question and answer session in which Northeastern students, Udayana University students, and Udayana University professors asked questions of the Dean, Professor Mahdenra, and Udit. This session concluded the short seminar and our time at Udayana University.

On our way out, we were given a boxed lunch, which we ate on the way back to the hotel. We then had a short break before returning for class. In class, Professor Majumder gave a presentation on “Culture and Climate Change,” providing analysis of many aspects of culture, including its influence on architecture, transportation, and other areas. Following his presentation and a short break, Udit led us in a tutorial in Gephi, a modeling platform.

The rest of the day was free to get dinner and work on our war games presentations. I ate with friends at a great restaurant called Malaika Secret Moksha and wrapped up the day with a meeting and work session with my war games team.

By Eloni Porcher, Communications and International Affairs

The word I would use to describe how I felt when we first arrived to Sanur Beach is exhausted. We had just finished a visit to rice fields and after three hours of traveling through winding roads and mountainous terrain of south Bali, the only thing I wanted to do was crawl into bed and be swept away into dreams of floating in the oceans of sun kissed beaches.

Besides being physically spent, at this point in the dialogue I was also beginning to feel mentally drained. Between academic sessions, lectures  and various forms of forced social interaction at any given day of the week, I found myself seeking sleep to escape the constant buzz of chatter and the hum of engines.

The sound of music in the distance interrupted my sleep pursuit. The steady beat of a conga, the blare of a horn playing the steady rhythms from home beckoned me to follow them. I first wandered to the beach in search of the source of the music, where I found a stream of kites dancing in the wind.

I first noticed during our week of travel in Bali, that many people, and mostly locals, fly kites. On bus rides, I spotted flurries of red dotting the skyline or lurking beneath the trees. Kite flying, similar to cultures in the Middle East, revere the activity as a spiritual practice. The Balinese believe the god Indra flew kites during his leisure time and taught cattle herders how to fly them. The practice, ( flying and making the kites) is taught in villages and passed down from generation to generation- and is considered a community activity.

I stood in the sand watching the kites surf gusts of wind and gentle breezes, while the music playing in the background still summoned me. Reluctantly, I left the beach, in search of the sounds that had been passed down to me- rhythms that I danced to at birthday parties, and more recently sought out with friends.

It felt odd to hear bachata rhythms (songs from Prince Royce’s most recent album) blaring at the Balinese resort. It was in stark contrast to the calm and steady bell dings and drum beats of the music that hotels normally played.

Since I only heard Bachata and Salsa songs playing, I knew that people were dancing. (Initially I thought I had found a group of Latinx residents or tourists in Bali, and was excited to meet them). It made me wonder in what ways Latin music and dance had traveled to an island thousands of miles away- and for what reasons people connected to the music. Patterns of global consumption of culture are interesting. Given that I knew very little about Balinese culture (never listened to music, nor did any of the dances), there I was in a place where the Balinese were dancing Bachata as well as some friends back home (if not better than some of my Latinx friends).

The culture of the Balinese feels more exclusive - it has been marketed in such a way to attract visitors to experience it in person on the small island. It gives locals an incentive to carry on the cultural traditions- but it comes at the cost that the traditions be changed or altered to accommodate patrons - culture driven by economic power rather than by the needs or desires of the community. This pattern is what is conesequently happening in many parts of the world- as certain cultural practices (either from the region or transferred, adopted or assimilated from others) dominate, others fade or change, decreasing heterogeneity. In some ways bringing people closer together, but creating divides in others.

Just before the trip I had complained to a friend that the popular Bachata dance spread throughout the US, South America, (and now Bali) was vastly different than the dance from the Dominican Republic. I shared how I wished people knew of the version of Bachata that I knew- a dance with complex fast paced steps that is desexualized and less focused on hip movements.

But while I watched Balinese dance instructors move across the flat wooden board on the sand, swaying in time in front of the ocean, I felt a sense of calm, and comfort in seeing people enjoy the dance and music that I loved.

Looking back, I don't know if it’s necessarily good or bad that the Balinese were teaching Latin dances. While there are various implications for why the form of transculutration came to be- it made me ponder this idea of what it means to be human and what a collective global culture would look like. And as the world becomes more globalized and consequently, homogenized, if Bachata gets to be a part of that narrative, I hope I’ll be able to still enjoy it and share the story of what it once was and what it has become. 

By Meghan McCallister, Environmental Engineering

During our second and final morning at the Rama Candidasa, I woke up at 5:45 to the alarm that I reluctantly set the night before. The sunrise will be worth it, I kept on repeating in my head as I slowly put on the clothes that I set out the night before. When we walked out from the room to the lobby to the pool and beachside deck, we were greeted by the employees of the hotel, but saw little other signs of human life. The three of us stood out on the wooden dock that extended over the ocean a couple of feet, in silence and slow morning conversation, waiting for the sun to rise.

We stood there together, and as the time got later and later, we realized that the sun was not rising where we thought it would, and would be obscured by mountains and trees. After a quick breakfast, we met one of the hotel staff for an early morning walk. We were joined by two German couples, one that was maybe in their early thirties and the other probably in their fifties. The seven of us, led by our tour guide, walked through some small roads between the houses built around the hotel to get to a rice paddy. We strolled along paths in between the fields and on concrete walls precariously close to the irrigation canals, watching the farmers working in all different stages of rice production.

Then, our next stop was a coffee plantation. We saw the coffee plants and the civets, and then sat down to sample a selection of teas and coffees. After the caffeine boost, we hiked up into what our guide referred to as the jungle. The tiny, winding footpaths took us up to a temple with a view that overlooked the rice paddies. We then walked back to the hotel, and joined the rest of our group to get on the bus.

Our first stop was the Pura Besakih, the largest and holiest temple in Bali. When we got to as far as the bus could go, we were informed that our tickets included a free motorbike ride to the entrance of the temple. So instead of walking up, most of us elected to hop on the back of the motorbike, zooming by the tourist shops and cafes. The temple was beautiful, with many paths and steps taking you higher and deeper into the complex. By far, vendors were the most aggressive here compared to anywhere else we have visited, but it’s not hard to understand why the temple complex attracts so many tourists every day. In our rented sarongs, we explored, admiring the architectural beauty and the spirituality of so many of the Balinese people.

We stopped off for lunch at a restaurant overlooking rice terraces. The Indonesian buffet food and the view were lovely. 

Our final destination for the day was the Lovina resort on the north side of the island. The beachside resort was filled with luxurious room and apartments, friendly staff, and an impressive amount of offered activities that made us all look forward to the next time the sun would rise again, and maybe this time, we’d get to see it. (SPOILER ALERT: we did!)