The J of BB: VI Power Lines

We thought, because we had power, we had wisdom.
Stephen Vincent Benet (1898 - 1943), Litany for Dictatorships, 1935

Jimmy Carter's grandson Jason, like me, served as a Peace Corps Volunteer in South Africa. Jason wrote a book, Power Lines, about his experiences. Our experiences were similar--so similar that, after I read Power Lines , my own writings about my experience in South Africa seemed derivative. Most of the superficial details of our experiences are identical: our villages were in KaNgwane, a former bantustan; we learned SiSwati from the same language teacher; we went to the same backpackers, shopped in the same stores, and took some of the same vacations.
Jason Carter


He was there a few years before me; I never met him. But everywhere I went, I felt myself to be his shadow. When I went through his village, people ran toward me, only to stop short and turn away disappointed. My language teacher, Lindiwe, once confided in me that I was the best student she had had, aside from Jason.

I must admit that Power Lines is an apt title for a book about South Africa. Mandela's revolution redistributed political power; it also began the process of redistributing electrical power. This distribution was just beginning when Jason Carter was a Volunteer. I saw its further implementation.

The average South African judges the extent of democracy in his country by the proliferation of water taps and power lines in his neighborhood. That my host father, Zephaniah Mbatha, and I sometimes had to drive over a mile to a tap to find water was a violation of his constitutional rights, according to the South African Constitution, in fact.
Babe Mbatha Unloading Water Barrels in Mgobodi, South Africa:

A lesser violation of Mbatha's rights was the erratic power supply. Power came to the village in 2000, causing Mbatha, a shopowner, to scrap his solar panel, which had powered the lights and refrigerators in his shop. He regretted doing so, since the sun, he told me, was a more reliable source of energy than ESKOM.

Now, according to a New York Times article , there are so many new consumers of power that there is an extreme shortage. Rolling blackouts are stalling the economy: mines, industry, and restaurants have been forced to close for periods of the day. The government will likely fail to achieve its goal of reducing its 25% unemployment rate.

So much for power to the people.

Here's a fellow who uses a bicyle to create power.


I've always wondered if we could tackle some of our energy problems by harnessing our bodies. All the power from weightlifters, runners and cyclists dissipates. I cycle for an hour almost every day--could I power my apartment with the energy I create?

According to Los Gatos (the man picture above), I'd have to pedal for six hours just to keep my refrigerator going for 24 hours. Hardly worth it. Los Gatos recommends a Poor Richard approach to power: a watt saved is a watt earned.

Riding a bicycle, unless you are Lance Armstrong, is hardly an act of power. Despite the ubiquity of devices that measure power output on the bicycle--Floyd Landis claims it was his Powertap device, not drugs, that helped him win the Tour de France--a bicycle will never be a Humvee. It does not strike fear into the heart (cyclophobists excepted).

Everyone can ride a bicycle. Riders, unlike drivers, are not hidden behind steel and glass. Riders tend to group together. Cycling is a team sport. Honor. Dignity. Integrity. Banana hammocks.