My Kinda' Town

My field, environmental science, can be a bit ambiguous at times. No one has ever really tried to define it, and since it's so interdisciplinary, some might say that it defies definition. I specialized in biology. But geologists dominate the environmental studies department at Penn, so their classes felt a lot like earth science. Other schools incorporate a lot more political science, economics, chemistry, the list goes on and on.

I have a theory about the field; I tend to see it as the study of humans actions in the context of a natural environment. How does our search for uranium impact soil erosion? How do populations of flagship species affect conservation initiatives? I'm pretty sure that just living in Alaska, I'll be able to test this theory quite well.

Ever since I accepted this job, I started reading the Anchorage Daily News online. Simply scanning the headlines got me geeked for Alaska-- quite literally. Nearly half of the stories seem to have a fairly direct connection to my environmental science interest. Whether native tribes are debating allowing mining on their lands or the Alaskan politicians are recounting their experiences with the Exxon-Valdez oil spill, it all relates back to humans interacting with their natural surroundings. Even a simple public interest story, like salmon fishing on a river, is fraught with such issues. When will the salmon run this year, how many permits will Fish and Wildlife allow, how many fish were taken, etc., etc.?

Since I haven't met many Alaskans yet, I can't yet rate their perception or knowledge of these issues. But for a people who grow up with human-environment conflict as a constant presence, I wonder if they view it as a science at all. Or is it simply life?

Alaska is BIG

Everyone knows that Alaska is the biggest state in the union-- and quite a bit bigger than most countries in the world (do you know which ones actually surpass Alaska?). But it's quite a different thing to actually experience this largess.

My roommates and I thought about flying to Barrow, Alaska, the northernmost city in the United States (and the sun doesn't set for three months of summer!). We figured that we're already so close to the Arctic Circle, we might as well go over it.

Well, close is a relative term. Let's just say that a flight to Barrow costs around $500 and takes 3.5 hours. For the chance to dip my feet in the Arctic Ocean? I don't know if it's worth it...

I've met a couple Alaskans who are from villages or islands so isolated, no roads exist. They have to fly three or four hours in a fixed wing plane or take a day-long ferry ride just to visit family and friends.

I'm sure my appreciation for Alaska's size will only grow with time and travel experience. Let's just hope I don't get lost!

My New Big Wild Life

Anchorage, Alaska's current tourist slogan is "Big Wild Life," and the city plasters it on everything, from the welcome packet I found in my room to the buses driving around town. I think it's pretty easy to see why they chose this slogan. 1- Alaska is known for it's size and grandiose wilderness. The city wants to reinforce that thought and attach it to the city itself. 2- Alaska is known for it's size and grandiose wilderness. The city wants let people know that the wilderness isn't ubiquitous. Quality restaurants and nightlife can coexist with bears and moose in Alaska.

Since moving here a little over two weeks ago, Anchorage has surprised me on both points. I expected the gorgeous scenery and news of bear attacks, but I didn't realize that all of that would be so present in Alaska's largest city itself! Chugach State Park lies within the city boundaries, and it's mountains tower over the city's skyline. The coastal trail passes by lusciously growing estuaries and tidal mud flats. I spend 80% of my morning bicycle commute on a wooded river trail. I've seen eight moose so far-- all within the city boundaries.

As far as the second point goes, Anchorage surprised me here, too. I'd heard some negative talk about the city before getting here (ugly, unplanned, can't go anywhere without a car, lack of good restaurants, expensive), but I've found most of this to be untrue. The city's oil boom did coincide with the American strip mall boom, so the architecture and urban planning does leave something to be desired, but overall I'm pretty pleased with the city's density and logical layout. Anchorage has a high concentration of microbreweries, and the food, while certainly not international, has been creative and delicious. The few bars and shops which I've seen in downtown and midtown compare well to my favorites from Philadelphia, Munich, and Detroit.

With only two weeks of residency under my belt, I still have plenty of Anchorage to explore. And I'm certainly looking forward to every minute of it.

A New Adventure Begins

I haven't written here for over a year, a fact that I am quite ashamed of. This blog details the travels and adventures that I'm lucky enough to enjoy. It forces me to reflect on what I've experienced.

The lack of a post does not mean I haven't had interesting travels. My whole second semester in Germany seems to have missed this blog. My return to the States, my quick jaunts to Chicago and Cincinnati, and my move back to Philadelphia all deserve posts just as much as Munich and Mongolia.

But for now, my energies are focused on a new chapter-- Alaska. Yes, I'm about to graduate and enter the work force in Anchorage, Alaska. As I learn more about this great section of our country, I hope to keep track of it here. Perhaps I'll even be able to recollect about Prague, the farm, and my final year in Philly, too.

Our Image Abroad

Why we need to be careful about what we (or those we give weapons to) do abroad...

Excuses, Excuses

Wow. Almost an entire month since my last post. So sorry.

Unfortunately for you plenty of exciting things have happened. Christmas markets came and went, I experienced real Alpine skiing, and my family even dropped in for a visit. But don't worry, over this weekend, I'm planning a quick recap of the biggest events and impressions.

Additionally, one of my New Year's resolutions is to be more creative with this blog. I've got a few ideas already, but if you have suggestions or advice, please e-mail me or leave a comment here. Thanks in advance and Happy 2009!

Rotes Haus Fest

Despite being more expensive than off-campus housing, Penn Housing doesn't offer all that much more in the way of services. When I lived there, I appreciated the extra security that my rent paid for, but the fellowships, endless, terrible movie-nights, and "Meet Your House Dean" dinners, make me all the more happy that I won't be living on-campus next year.

The Germans have a much better system. Although subsidized by the government, the facilities aren't the greatest. But the rent here for a normal student is rock-bottom. And how do the students fill their need for socializing without a "House Dean" to tell them how? Well, they do it themselves.

I just got back from working the Red House Festival, where we sold alcohol and made money. Now for the rest of the year, the inhabitants of Red House can have floor dinners and small outings. And we get to decide for ourselves what to do--no house dean to tell us otherwise.

While alcohol liscensing laws in the USA might prevent Penn from fully adopting this model, they should definitely look into something similar. Get rid of the house deans and dinners, lower rent, and let the students decide what they want.