Flying to China

Week 15: Goodbye Iceland

Today I flew to Copenhagen. Soon I’ll continue on through Moscow and finally arrive in Beijing on Wednesday morning. The second country of study in my Watson Fellowship, China, fast approaches. I feel some mixture of excitement and intimidation towards China’s megacities and burgeoning populations. To be sure, China will be radically different from Iceland.

For starters, the contrast between the energy systems of China and Iceland couldn’t be starker. Goodbye Iceland. Goodbye 100% renewable electricity. Hello Beijing. Hello Shanghai. Hello coal. Hello Three Gorges Dam. Hello two coal power plants added to the national grid per week. Two per week! Hello world’s largest investor in renewable energy technology. Hello 1.3 billion people. Hello hustle and bustle and relentless march of economic development.

Before departing Iceland I wrapped up all my loose ends. I finished a report on hydrogen sulfide emissions control technology for Landsvirkjun, the largest power company in Iceland. My hosts at Landsvirkjun arranged a farewell party at a local tavern, either signifying satisfaction with my work or good riddance. I can’t be sure which.

I also had a tasty farewell dinner with the Director of Sustainable Energy at Islandsbanki (Bank of Iceland), with whom I hope to continue various projects surrounding www.thinkgeoenergy.com.

Finally, I said farewell to the various folks I’ve met and lived with in Iceland. My buddy Hinrick drove five hours from Akureyri to say goodbye over one final dinner of Thai food (the Icelandic Thai population is burgeoning after Icelandic males experienced a brief infatuation with mail order brides). I also said a somber goodbye to all my new friends in the Salvation Army Guesthouse – the most international and cramped accommodations I’ve ever had the privilege to call home for one month. Never before (outside the UN) have Tajikistanis, Nigerians, Americans, Germans, Canadians, Colombians, Italians, Greeks, Poles, and countless other nationalities come together in such an energized, generally friendly, occasionally angry, and always physical manner. Imagine 20 people from all over the world waiting to cook on one of two stovetop burners – the line for dinner each night was an experience in and of itself. I spent many hours sampling the foods and ideas of all these different folks while bumping and shuffling about in a dim and tight kitchen.

Looking back on my last month in Reykjavik – “City of Fear” as rural Icelanders call it - I can say that I grew. I refined, updated, abandoned, and re-evaluated many of my opinions about energy. My personal strategies and goals moving forward have changed. Again, I found myself fighting the same old environment-economy-energy battle that I’ve wrestled with so many times before. I spent the last month with an overwhelming array of personalities spanning from staunch capitalists to communists, fundamentalist environmentalists to unrestrained industrialists, politicians, regulators, businesspeople, entrepreneurs, and a sampling of about twenty different world cultures. This bombardment forced me to see things in a new light. I wont delve too far into the specifics of my musings because they are private, in progress, and would constitute multiple essays each (not the kinds of things one simply tosses out without support, evidence, and argument). It will suffice to say that I’ve taken on a more pragmatic view, I think. However, I haven’t compromised my idealism so much as tempered it and redirected it within the confines of our imperfect world, our technology, our demand, and especially our financial system.

I’ll add that my musings in Reykjavik evolved naturally from my experiences, relationships, and observations. The focus of my time in the Icelandic capital was researching the technology and economics of hydrogen sulfide pollution control systems and evaluating carbon sequestration options for Landsvirkjun, but that was by no means my only source of learning. I gleefully participated in meetings with Japanese power plant manufacturers, geothermal investment bankers, and power plant designers. I toured a number of operating geothermal facilities. I attended lectures from international researchers in geology, engineering, and environmental protection. I also met and discussed with inventors, financiers, and developers from other energy industries like hydro, solar, gas, and coal.

One last thing. China doesn’t like people publishing details about their energy industry. Occasionally they imprison offenders, like the unfortunate American geologist who will be in Chinese jail for the next two years because he released information about some oil wells. I’ve decided it’s best not to risk a similar situation. Beyond that, I’ve heard that blogger.com is intermittently censored within China, so I probably wouldn’t be able to publish frequently if at all. Accordingly, this may be my last post until I land in Madrid come March.

In China I have plans in various stages of development/commitment to work with Shanghai Electric, Global Geothermal, Hysen International, Shaanxi Green Energy, tour two district heating facilities, attend meetings of the Beijing Energy Network, and much more. I’ll study Mandarin with private tutors, and will plan at least one rural trip to really experience the culture, see the contrast to urban life, and perhaps find some opportunities for a post-Watson return. Beijing, Shanghai, and Xian will probably be my home bases for one or two months each. My total time in China will be over four months. I have an apartment arranged in Beijing, which is where I’ll land at 9:50 on Wednesday. So exciting!

I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my blog, leave comments, email me thoughts, and support me during this year. I’ve received over 2,100 hits so far, which is pretty exciting for me. Don’t be alarmed if I don’t post here for a couple months. I’ll be back before you know it!

Week 13: Riots, Millionaires, and Resource Wars

Last night Reykjavik erupted. I’m not talking about a volcanic event, but equally fiery and explosive protests outside parliament. I watched this demonstration while dining on lobster, lamb, and chocolate cake with Iceland’s “wealthiest self-made man,” according to the man himself. The experience felt utterly surreal as we pursued history, philosophy, and technology while thronging crowds broke the windows of parliament, ignited fires throughout the city’s center, launched fireworks at government buildings, clashed with riot gear clad police, and never once stopped beating their oil drums – the drum beat of revolutionary impulses.

Rewind to Saturday. I walked into one of the theaters hosting films from the Reykjavik International Film Festival. I bought my ticket for Oil Rock: The Story of Stalin’s Floating Caspian Oil City, and noticed a 50-something year old man, or more specifically, I noticed his bomber jacket. Exquisite. An American eagle patch screamed across the worn leather breast, other flags and patches adorned the arms, and a fluffy wool collar lay casually on the shoulders. Where can I get one? I started the conversation: “Great jacket.”

I left with the man’s number and a promise for dinner. Three days later he picked me up in his white BMW. “Before we eat, I want to show you something.” He drove me past various embassies in Reykjavik, then we doubled back towards a looming black building. “That’s the Chinese embassy. It is four times larger than the next largest embassy – the American embassy. What does China need such a large embassy for? Remember, there are only 300,000 Icelanders. What is China doing here?”

He explained his theories about global wars fought through markets and resources instead of armies, and about China’s investments in the aluminum smelters here (which consume 80% of Iceland’s energy). He told me about “buying friends,” and how he fears that Iceland will become a bargaining chip in the market/resource wars ahead. He pointed out Canada and America's similar interests in Icelandic smelters and geothermal resources. He seemed to know much more about these subject than the layperson might. His pattern of unusual insights – suspicion arousing insights - only strengthened through the night.

Over dinner I continually probed my new friend to discover his past, but he revealed very little. His family, business, and political positions remains shrouded. When I tried to turn our conversation towards my own projects, goals, and ideas he seemed equally uninterested. Instead, he steered me into the realm of understanding man. “You are here to learn something about energy and to make some decisions about your future and career, no? You say you want to avoid the mid-life realization that your efforts have been misguided, meaningless, or even destructive to this world. To make these decisions well – to really be effective – you must first understand man thoroughly." He demanded that I see my contemporaries clearly, that I see their darkness as well as their good.

We discussed falcon breeding and the historical implications of that industry. We explored the beauty and horrors of Thailand. We reviewed psychopathy, and how many psychopaths build high-powered careers. “People on a mission are sometimes the most dangerous type. They are the ones who think they must accomplish something, and they will stop at nothing to get what they want. You seem to be on that kind of mission. Keep it in control. Know why you are doing what you are doing.”

My friend ate his lobster by hand. He dug his fingers into the buttery meat, but managed to do so with a completely dignified and sophisticated aura. It seemed totally appropriate that a pile of translucent napkins should mount on the table’s surface. He ordered apple juice and told me that he has never once had a sip of alcohol. Outside I saw crowds overrun a police barricade and shatter the windows of parliament. The trapped politicians escaped through a secret tunnel instead of face the financial collapse-fueled mob.

At one point the man unexpectedly asked me to state my IQ score, and later he wanted very specific details about my athletic abilities, particularly in swimming and running. He extended numerous offers of connections along with an offer for more meetings before I leave Iceland for China. “Perhaps you can meet the Governor here,” he added. I felt increasingly bewildered by the whole experience.

I left the restaurant and stepped out into the middle of the protest's central barricaded area (we literally dined overlooking parliament). I found myself among police in full riot gear. “Icelandic Jibberish?!” “Sorry, I only speak English.” “How did you get behind the barricade?!” “I entered the restaurant before the protests started. Don’t worry, I’m a disinterested American, and I'm not really into the whole 'violent protest' thing anyway. I’ll go now.”

The police escorted me to the perimeter of the safe-zone. I stepped over the riot wall, ran past some flames, a man waving a skull and crossed bones pirate flag, and people firing flares at parliament, and dashed into my guesthouse.

Next morning: charred lawn and broken windows at Iceland's "Alping" parliament