Marseilles. First impressions: somewhat unimpressed

"The reason why all of us naturally began to live in France is because France has scientific methods, machines and electricity, but does not really believe that these things have anything to do with the real business of living."

- Gertrude Stein

So, as most of you are probably aware, I am currently in France. I'm here to do a series of experiments that I either cannot do in Manchester, or cannot otherwise outsource. In many cases, we would send off my samples to the lab in which I'm now working, they would do the processing and return them; however, they are seriously short-staffed and unable to process them independently, hence my presence here.

To that end, I recently flew to Marseilles to work in the IM2NP (The Institut Matériaux Microélectronique Nanosciences de Provence) at the Université de Paul Cézanne, faculty of St. Jérôme. I won't bore you with the details of what I'm doing here (until I get into my "What Do I Do" series of posts about my work, but the short version is that I'm layering very thin layers of germanium on the samples I created in Manchester.

Anyway, that's not really what this post is about. What I want to talk about is my initial impressions of Marseilles. Basically, it's a pretty mixed bag. So let's go with the tried-and-true (and somewhat trite) formula of the good, the bad and the ugly.

The Good: Well, to start with, it's been mostly beautiful since I arrived. In stark contrast to Manchester's cold, grey, drizzly springs, Marseilles, situated in the lovely south of France, is pretty sweet at this time of year. Though I had some showers initially, and some chilly air to boot, for the most part, it's been just right: high teens or low-twenties, sunny, and just generally very pleasant.

Second, the people I work with seem very nice, genuine and intelligent. I've met the majority of the people with whom I'll be working, and they all seem to be upstanding guys and girls. So, working should be pretty decent. Also, Isabelle, the woman in charge of the lab here, is a bit more proactive about pushing me to work, which I really do need; a more laissez-faire attitude results in me slacking off. A lot. As in, what I've done for the last 30 months or so. So, with any luck, that'll spur me into doing some solid work, which I sorely need to do. Similarly, I have a few friends here (Véronique, Sandrine and her husband Damien). So, it's been great to see all of them again, and all have been very accommodating to me.

Finally, the food. Though I haven't really sampled too much French cuisine yet, I had some lovely dishes at the conference Isabelle held last week. Furthermore, the French have refined cheese and bread-making to an art, something I have enjoyed already, and intend to continue doing so.

The Bad: In short: the residence. I'm staying in student halls while here, kindly set up by my host. However, the French halls have clearly earned their reputations for being god-awful. Firstly, the fall prey to the typical shortcomings of student residences; they're small, loud (at all hours), ugly and dirty. Fair enough. My room is equipped with a single bed-this is something I swore I'd never sleep in again, but fair enough, it's par for the course for student halls. The kitchen is awful-three small electric hot plates (two of which have no knobs and the feet are broken off so you have to prop up the front to keep your pan from sliding off and only one of which has an exhaust hood over it), no stove, no garbage can (seriously), etc. The coin laundromat in the residence is expensive and doesn't provide any change. But the biggest affront, for me is that there's no internet access in the rooms. The only internet you can get in the hall is through the mini internet cafe thing in the front. It consists of five computers (only four work at all), all running a stripped-down version of Internet Explorer that reboots itself every half hour or so, discarding anything you've written. Also, it's so limited that I can't even delete messages in my webmail-I just get a "not authorised" message; and don't even think about doing anything that requires Flash, Java or sound or any kind-that's just crazy talk. They're slow, connected to ancient 15" CRT monitors and generally in poor repair. I know this may seem like a minor, whiney gripe, but it's a really big thing for me-the internet is how I keep in touch with friends and family, it's my primary source of entertainment when on my own, I use it to research, relax and play, and it's a big blow for me to not have it. At least the office has a (really fast) broadband connection, and I now have 24/7 access.

In addition to the internet thing, the hall is also located in a really dodgy area of town. I have been repeatedly warned not to walk alone at night, especially from the metro station (which would be about a 40-minute walk). As I understand it, the odds are pretty good I'd be mugged/stabbed/whatever. So, I'm heeding that advice. This wouldn't be a huge problem except that the bus from the metro station to my hall stops at 8:30 every night, a ridiculously-early hour for such a big city. There are night buses from downtown, but they are slow, infrequent, potentially dangerous and stop running at about 12:30AM, which makes going out for an evening on the town difficult. Especially because there is no nightlife whatsoever in the area of my hall. None. There's an internet cafe, a corner shop, two restaurants, two laundromats, a pharmacy and a bakery within a twenty-minute walk. That's it.

Basically, the area feels somewhat like a ghetto in a country much more financially destitute than France. I realise that Marseilles is a fairly poor city, but really-this is France! Not Rwanda, not Afghanistan, France. They should be able to do better than this. As for the hall, it just reeks of "bare minimum effort". There are walls and a ceiling and we should be happy for that, dammit. Any other amenities, anything to make one's personal life "enjoyable" is just lunacy. There's a comprehensive lack of attention to detail that's pervasive in the design and implementation of these mediocre living spaces. I don't expect the Taj Mahal, but for a prosperous first-world nation to not provide at least basic internet access to its student, in 2008, is ridiculous.

The Ugly: The city in general is not so much with the pretty ugly. There are exceptions, and areas of the city that predate WWII are generally quaint and pretty. There are a fair arrangement of churches, the harbour is lovely, and the surrounding scenery exquisite. However, most of the buildings can be generously described as "utilitarian". They are boxy, plain, poured-concrete structures; they are drab and at times dilapidated. The university buildings are equally boxy and uninteresting. It's not a big deal by any stretch, but don't come to Marseilles if you expect picturesque French villas nestled around the Mediterranean.

I'll be in Marseilles for a total of about two months. Having been here for two weeks, I already am a bit homesick, and am pretty frustrated with some of the shortcomings I've seen. I expected better, especially given this is the second-largest city in a country known for its history, prosperity and modernity. France should be a beacon of good social order, with well-equipped public transportation and a modern infrastructure, both physical and digital. I hope my opinion will improve, but right now-though the people seem lovely, and it's great to see my friends here again-I have been largely unimpressed with the city itself. Maybe time will change that opinion.

"I have tried to lift France out of the mud. But she will return to her errors and vomitings. I cannot prevent the French from being French."

-Charles de Gaulle

Not all atheists are snobs

"We are all atheists about most of the gods that societies have ever believed in. Some of us just go one god further."

-Richard Dawkins

There's a blog I read with great regularity (whenever a new article pops up on my RSS feed), called Violent Acres; I like it so much, it's one of the few links in my sidebar. Generally, V (as the author is known) is astute and clever; often controversial, but generally she at least makes good points. But I feel that her recent post, Atheists are Snobs, misses the mark in a way very few of her others ever had. It's not because I'm an atheist myself (I am); it's because I think she falls prey to the exact same generalisations she preaches against.

Take this quotation, for example:

Atheists think they’re being clever with their spaghetti monster analogies and fairy tale rhetoric, but at the end of the day, they come off sound like condescending pricks.

This is where I think the first flaw comes in. She paints all atheists with the same brush. This includes zealots (and there are atheistic zealots) and moderates, intellectuals and dumbasses. She paints Richard Dawkins-a well-spoken, erudite opponent of organised religion-with the same brush as the mouth-breathers who decide that a facebook forum about Apple computers is the right place to rehash the same old creationism-vs-evolution argument again and again in stilted English and poorly-constructed critiques.

The problem is, there are many of us, and we're just as diverse as any other group. I'm an atheist, but I've been to Baptist, Catholic, Anglican, Presbyterian and Protestant churches. I've been in love twice-once with a Mennonite and once with a Catholic, and have dated girls who were Christian, Hindu and atheist. I discuss religion frequently with my friends, religious and atheist alike. I think religion does some wonderful things in the world (charity, preaching morals, anti-drug programs and so forth), and does some terrible things (inspiring divisiveness, crusading against science, blocking the distribution of condoms to Africa and so forth). I have no problem with someone being religious, and am actually intrigued as to what compels them to their faith. Not so I can dissuade them from it, but because I think it speaks to a core need in ourselves, something V addresses when she says:

I, myself, have not been able to claim belief in a higher power for many, many years. However, I can still see the value in Religion. Perhaps growing up without a strong parental figure in my life made me recognize the possible value of a loving Father figure up in the sky watching out for me. And hey, I try my best not forget that sometimes we all need something to believe in.

So, I get it-I accept that faith in a higher power is an almost intrinsic characteristic of humanity. Hell, I often wish I could feel what religious people feel. That confidence, that peace which must accompany an unwavering belief in something bigger than us, with a plan for all of us, a glorified father figure who wants us all to be happy (despite plagues, famine war, and so on). I really do wish I could believe that. But too many things don't add up and I can't bring myself to believe (I won't go into the details here, you probably know them all by now).

Later on, V gets somewhat personal in her attacks, and pushes her stereotype further:

Most Atheists have the tendency to thumb their noses at Jesus, and then log onto World of Warcraft so they can pretend to be an orc for a couple of hours. They sneer at the Bible, but have no problem playing endless hours of vampire role playing games. The message is clear. Fantasies are OK as long as they include gratuitous violence and some sort of porn.

She has now labelled the majority of atheists as basement-dwelling anti-social troglodytes (not to mention implying that being a World of Warcraft fan makes one guilty of being just that). I don't play WoW, I don't even play much in the way of computer games. I'm a Ph.D. student in Electrical and Electronic Engineering, a nerdy profession indeed, but I nonetheless have a significant social life and the social skills to match. But again, that's not the point. The point is those last two sentences.

"The message is clear. Fantasies are OK as long as they include gratuitous violence and some sort of porn," she says smugly and-dare I say it-rather snobbishly. Putting aside the inherent superiority she touts over the 8.5 million people with the audacity to enjoy an online game, it is here that she shows her lack of comprehension. Because the message is clear, she just didn't read it right; the message is this: "Fantasies are OK, as long as everyone knows they're fantasies, and nobody tried to work them into broader life and legislation and as long as they do no harm". Nobody credible, or with any authority, believes that World of Warcraft is factual, and nobody proposes laws requiring that children be equipped with a helmet of +5 protection when leaving the house.

See, this is the main bone of contention amongst the atheists, to the extent that we can all agree on something: religion isn't science. Creationism has become one of the core battlegrounds in the brewing religious furor between the believers and we godless heathens. I have no real problem with people choosing to believe that the earth was created in seven days by an omnipotent deity. I think it's a little crazy, but I believe in their right to believe in crazy things. What bothers me is when school boards in Kansas vote to teach Intelligent Design (a thinly-veiled code-word for Creationism) in schools. What bothers me is when I get told I'm inferior and damned to an eternity of hellfire and torture because I don't believe. What bothers me is when religion gets in the way of common sense, ultimately causing harm. In short, what bothers me is the zealots, the religious extremists.

But you know what? I don't think all Christians are like this. In fact, I don't think the overwhelming majority of Christians are like this. While we're at it, I don't think the majority of Muslims are suicide bombers in waiting. I think, regardless of the religion, that the majority of the people who practise said religion are decent, moderate, often intelligent people who happen to believe something I don't. And you know what? It would be categorically wrong of me to classify all Christians as bible-thumping, evolution-denying wacknuts. But those are the ones that get the media attention; it is those squeaky wheels that get the grease and therefore many people castigate all Christians for the outlandish actions of a vocal few. And people who do paint with this broad are brush are shortsighted and quick to judgement. So why is it OK to paint all atheists with the same broad brush?

Most atheists are decent, moderate, often intelligent people. We are well-intentioned and tolerant, we work we play and we socialise. We just happen to not believe in something that religious people do. But you know what-the wacknuts, the extremists, the ones who are not just non-religious, but who are actively against religion in all its forms, and are on some misguided quest to annihilate it? They're the ones who get the attention; they're the ones you remember. But someone as smart as V should know better, should look beyond that and realise they are the vocal minority. They are the atheistic equivalent to the Creation-preaching Kansas extremist Christians, they are the atheistic equivalent to Al-Qaeda (only less well-armed and well-funded). Their reaction is natural-when confronted with a strong, vocal minority, it makes some sense to react with equal fervour, but they do the rest of us a disservice because otherwise-right-thinking people like V are misled by that very fervour into believing we're all extremist atheists. And we're just not.

V, if you somehow read this, I hope you will realise that your post describes a mere minority of atheists, albeit those you're most likely to notice and remember. Just don't make the same foibles they do, by blaming the many for the extreme actions of the few. That's ill-informed, myopic and-to be brutally honest-a little bit snobby.

"It was, of course, a lie what you read about my religious convictions, a lie which is being systematically repeated. I do not believe in a personal God and I have never denied this but have expressed it clearly. If something is in me which can be called religious then it is the unbounded admiration for the structure of the world so far as our science can reveal it."

-Albert Einstein.

Dear God, please save my son from TB

"If you can discover a better way of life than office-holding for your future rulers, a well-governed city becomes a possibility. For only in such a state will those rule who are truly rich, not in gold, but in the wealth that makes happiness-a good and wise life."

-Plato

OK, I just made a really long post at a message board I frequent, and thought I'd share it here as well so that a few more people might read it. The background is this: A Wisconsin couple is under investigation after their child died as a result of a preventable illness. The reason the child died? Instead of her parents taking her to a doctor, who could have easily saved her, they prayed for her to get better. In lieu of medicine, they chose prayer. I asked on this message board what people thought about this, and about other crazy cures (witch doctors, crystal healing, homeopathy, etc.). Eventually, the debate became about whether the state has a right to tell use how to raise our kids, given that religious freedom is a protected right. Essentially, can the state intervene if people's religious beliefs are causing danger to their children? And if so, will this lead to a slippery slope where kids aren't allowed to play sports because it's dangerous, and all kids are forced to wear helmets when they cycle, etc.

Here are my thoughts. Basically, it's this: the parents were negligent, and should be treated as such. I will address the major themes discussed within this thread, and will apologise (though not profusely) for the very debater-y tone this post is about to take. And its extreme length.

Religion versus science
Nobody reading this is likely to question that medical science is imperfect, but it's miles and miles better than religion and faith healing, so I'm not going to say much on this. The reality is, certain diseases are highly predictable and highly treatable, and this sounds like one of them. No, it's not 100% but it's pretty close.

The role of the state, and the social contract
OK, welcome ladies and gentlemen to debater-land. What is the role of the state? Well, when someone chooses to be a citizen of a given society, they enter into an implicit social contract: they agree to certain things or they remove themselves from the state. Essentially, you cede certain rights in exchange for certain benefits. In an anarchistic nation, you could rape, murder, pillage and more at will. In every civil society on earth, we eliminate those rights. On a less-extreme example, you lose to right to retain all your income (i.e. taxes), and you lose the right, in most western states, to live in a mono-religious theocracy, whether you want that or not. In exchange, you get protection via the instruments of the state-police, military, education, health care. You enter into this collective willingly as an adult or under the auspices of your parents as a child, and you have to accept those conditions, or work from within to change them.

This isn't (yet) about the specifics of this case, just establishing the groundwork. We do give up certain things to the state in order to gain the benefits that come from it.

The state's duty of care
The state has a "duty of care" regarding its citizens. This means that, because they have chosen to buy into the state, have fed the state, and have ceded rights to the state, the state has not only the right to, but a responsibility to care for its citizens. This takes different forms in different places. Saudi citizens may want their religion preserved as one of the duties of care; Americans might want freedom to practice any religion protected. But ultimately, the will of the people must be represented, and the members of the state cared for.

Further, the state has an extra duty of care to the weaker, and less able to protect themselves, members of the state. Certain members of the state are better able to protect their own rights without state intervention, but others are more vulnerable. It's why there are laws against con artists, against fraud and discrimination, and why we codify laws protecting the disabled, for example. Children, of course, are the centerpiece of all this: children are the weakest members of society, the least able to protect themselves, and the most open to abuse, especially by their parents and/or guardians. So, the state institutes additional protections for children: abuse laws, statutory rape, etc., because they are not rationally-thinking individuals the way we consider adults to be.

Again, nothing specific to this case, just saying the government needs to protect children. Again, something we can all broadly agree on, I'd wager.

Religious freedom
In the states we're talking about (i.e. Western Liberal Democracies-WLDs for short from now on), religious freedom is protected. Religion is seen as a spiritual, personal choice, largely ungoverned by logic and reasoning, thus incapable of being regulated in the ways other things are. Therefore, WLDs pass laws to protect the right to worship in the way you see fit, and the protection of religious beliefs, even where it might seem to contravene other regulations (for example, it is often a protected right that Sikh men be allowed to wear a turban, even where a hat is part of the uniform for everyone else).

However, these rights are not universal. Where they impinge on the health and well-being of others, we curtail them. We do not allow animal sacrifices or child sex, even if it's a religious belief. That Sikh man I mentioned? If he wants to work at a job requiring a hard hat, that's a safety issue, and it takes precedence over his religious beliefs. There are certain laws which cannot be contravened, even for religious reasons.

Parental Rights
When you become a parent, you have taken on arguably the most important role in society: shepherding the next generation of citizens into adulthood. This comes with a weight of responsibility, and its a mantle that we can ill-afford to let people shrug off. Therefore, the state grants a limited right to parent upon its citizens. Anyone can become a parent, and for the most part the state won't step in. You want to teach your kid that black people are evil? You're a StormFront (a NeoNazi group with whom some members of the message board linked above have tangled from time to time) idiot, but that's allowed. You want to plonk him in front of the TV for 8 hours a day? Goodbye brain, but that's your right. But the awesome responsibility you have cannot be unilaterally discarded; you beat your child, we take him away. Rape her-we take her away. Let your child go without food, adequate clothing and shelter? We take them away. The state's duty of care extends as far as ensuring at least a bare minimum of care upon those unable to provide for themselves; if you have taken on this duty, it is one you cannot fully abdicate. It is a limited right to parent.

Balance of harms and the concept of reasonableness
OK, here's where it gets interesting: where do you draw the line? There is, indeed, a difference between active and passive harms. Beating a child isn't the same as allowing them to be harmed by inattention. However, we do criminalise negligence. If you refuse to feed your child, they will be removed from your care. If you refuse to educate them, they will be removed from your care. If you allow their father to rape them, even though you did not yourself participate, they will be removed from your care. Because you have been negligent to their upbringing.

So how, then, do we decide where this line is drawn? Through the balance of harms and reasonableness. The balance of harms says "if doing an act causes more harms than not doing it, it should be stopped". This is ultimately measured with reasonableness. Lawyers probably know more about reasonableness in a legal sense than I do, but I think it's safe to say that in many cases, it ultimately comes down to a judge or jury deciding what's reasonable to the common man, or something to that effect. That's how we judge the balance of harms. Of course kids should be allowed to play sports-the harm of being banned from that is significant, in terms of health and development, and the risk is comparatively low. The harms of refusing a child necessary medical treatment, however, are a world apart. There is no real benefit to doing so (personally, I'd be in favour of Jehovah's Witnesses-at least JW children-being forced to have blood transfusions, their religion be damned, but that's another debate for another day) and the harm is as severe a harm as can ever be placed on a child-death. Major harm, no tangible benefit: religious freedom can be curtailed.

In this case, though the science may be imperfect, as is all science, it provided a clear and obvious solution, one with a proven track record, and one that was infinitely more effective than prayer or faith healing, or crystals or any other wacky crap the parents might have tried. Science could have saved this child, by any reckoning. The parents should have known this. Do they have the right to their religious beliefs? Of course, but not at the expense of their child's life, when that life could have so easily been spared.

Where would I draw the line in government control over parenting? Reasonable limits. I think bike helmets on kids are great. Their hair might get messy, they might have to deal with some discomfort, but forcing parents to limit the severe head trauma their child might endure is a reasonable risk-it doesn't make cycling any less fun. What about obese children-another known health risk-parents are currently allowed to let their kids get fat? Sometimes I think a government-mandated fat camp would save society a lot of trouble, make for better, healthier children, save the health care system a bundle and generally be positive. So I somewhat support this, though I'm not 100% sure. While I'm at it, yes I think parents should be required to make their kids wear seatbelts in the car; yes I think they should be required to have smoke detectors in the house and yes, I think they should do everything reasonable to ensure their child survives risks to their safety.

When the government does go too far, we vote them out, we push for change in the legislature, we protest, we do whatever we have to. But given a child's inability to stand up for itself, I see nothing wrong with a societal collective, enshrined in law, stating that there are certain minimum standards of care you must provide your child; if you accept this highest of duties, you had damn well better accept the responsibilities or the power of the state will descend upon you with great fury for so highly damaging the most vulnerable citizens we have that you have abdicated your rights as a parent.

"You rock a sobbing child without wondering if today's world is passing you by, because you know you hold tomorrow tightly in your arms."

-Neal A. Maxwell

The iPhone SDK

"Every once in a while a revolutionary product comes along that changes everything. It's very fortunate if you can work on just one of these in your career. ... Apple's been very fortunate in that it's introduced a few of these."

- Steve Jobs

As a long-time Mac nerd, I've long been eagerly awaiting the software development kit (SDK) for the iPhone and iPod Touch. For those not in the know, this is a piece of software that allows for the development of other software. Currently, the iPhone/iTouch ship with a set of applications (mail, Safari web browser, calendar etc.) and that's all there will ever be. You can use web calendars (like Google Calendar) when you have an internet connection, but you can't install any native applications the way you can on a computer. No games, no fancier word processors, nothing. Well, that's set to change, as the SDK is going to arrive in June. On Thursday, Apple unveiled the details of the SDK (overall analysis here, play-by-play description of the announcement event here), and I'd like to look at what we now know.

Before the event took place (it has been announced for some time that the SDK was coming), I had some questions I wanted answered, regarding the limitations of the SDK, and how applications would be distributed. Most of those questions have now been answered.

VOIP Applications. The iPhone obviously is primarily a voice device-it's a feature-packed phone to be sure, but a phone nonetheless. Further, it's a phone tied to specific network carriers (AT&T in the U.S., O2 in the U.K, Orange in France and T-Mobile in Germany, for example). These carriers have invested billions of dollars into building their infrastructure, and nothing scares them more than VOIP. VOIP stands for Voice Over IP, and is an umbrella term for any technology that allows you to place phone calls over the internet; the most common example is Skype. By treating voice calls as data, these services can realise tremendous savings. For example, while it costs me about 10p-35p/minute to make local calls from my mobile phone, and about £1/minute or more to make international calls, I called some friends in Canada with Skype from my computer and it cost me about 25p for a half hour.

As Wi-Fi internet access proliferates, VOIP becomes even more powerful. Imagine I could use an iPhone, at home, to place Skype calls. If I'm outside the range of my Wi-Fi point, I use the cell network; but if I'm at home, I can call anywhere in the world for a fraction of the cost, and don't have to use any of the minutes I purchase from my mobile carrier. You can understand why they're scared: all of a sudden, I'd be using their expensive network about 10% as much as I do now. So, hearing Apple say they would allow VOIP applications on the iPhone is thrilling.

Verdict: Yay Apple! I know AT&T would probably rather you block VOIP in any way possible, but I look forward to be able to make very cheap calls when in range of a Wi-Fi point.

Software Distribution: Apple has decided that all iPhone apps are to reside on Apple's server, and be downloaded through what they're calling the app store. Free apps will not cost the developer anything for Apple to host (beyond an initial, and quite reasonable $99 for the SDK and developer's club membership) and paid apps will cost the developer 30% of the cost for Apple to host the programs. This differs dramatically from computer software, which can be hosted anywhere, and downloaded at will, and installed manually.

I'm torn on this decision. I was worried they'd require payment for all applications, and am relieved that they will allow free apps. The advantages of this model are that Apple can ensure that no applications contain viruses or any of the other malware that infests computers. Furthermore, they can maintain a certain level of quality control, and if something goes wrong, there is a single source to trace that application back. Finally, it means that there is one location where every piece of iPhone software can be found, making a single, simple solution to software. However, this incurs a fee for any developer wishing to profit from their applications and means there's also a single point of failure if things go wrong. More ominously, perhaps, it means that Apple has final say over what applications are permitted on your iPhone. They've said they'll allow VOIP (as I mentioned before), which indicates they're open to things which their business partners might not be the biggest fans of. However, they've already said, unsurprisingly, that they won't allow SIM-unlocking applications, which would allow iPhones to be used on networks other than AT&T, so clearly they're planning to pick and choose which apps are permitted.

I'm on the fence, because there are clear advantages to this strategy in terms of security, doubly important for this market; I'll accept crashing and freezing on my computer much more readily than on my phone, and a virus that could spread phone-to-phone is a terrifying concept. But Apple has to tread lightly. There are some applications I really want to see on the iPhone, such as a video player that plays all formats, not just H.264, the format Apple uses to sell videos in the iTunes store. This would perhaps hurt iTunes sales, so I wouldn't be shocked if Apple blocked it; but I hope they won't-that would show a penchant for application-filtering I would find disturbing. Similarly, a BitTorrent application, or other peer-to-peer software will provide an acid test; if Apple permits software that not only provides potential alternatives to buying stuff from the iTunes store, but also provides the possibility of being used to pirate movies, I'll know they're open-minded, and will be OK with the iPhone App Store. If they crackdown, I'll know they're intent on auditing my application choices, and will be wary.

Verdict: Wait and see. Will Apple allow applications to exist that could provide revenue-damaging, or potentially illegal activities, or will they enforce a puritanical code of ethics on all iPhones? I hope the former.

SDK Details: The SDK itself looks quite interesting (though keep in mind, I'm not a software developer, so I might be missing something). I think the $99 fee is reasonable-Microsoft's Visual Studio and MSDN access cost scads more, and the fee appears to be a one-time-only affair. I like that the SDK can access the positioning information, allowing the iPhone to tell you where it is geographically, using cellular tower and Wi-Fi HotSpot data. The iPhone simulator seems an excellent way to test one's applications before downloading them onto a real-world iPhone. And ultimately, it seems like Apple has finally embraced the reality that the iPhone isn't just a phone, it's a phone new portable computing platform. I can't wait to see what applications emerge in the coming months. I just might have to make an iPod Touch-sized dent in my bank account one of these days...

"My children - in many dimensions they're as poorly behaved as many other children, but at least on this dimension I've got my kids brainwashed: You don't use Google, and you don't use an iPod."

-Steve Ballmer, CEO of Microsoft

Turkey

"No matter how rich and prosperous, a nation without independence, cannot be subject to any behaviour before the humanity, at a higher level than serving."
- Mustafa Kemal Atatürk

This past August, I was in Turkey, and I'm long overdue for a report on what went on and my thoughts on the whole shindig. It was an exciting and revelatory experience for me in many ways. Incidentally, sorry for this taking so long-pure laziness has made it so long overdue, the original writing date was last September. Sigh.

I was in Istanbul for the European Universities Debating Championship (EUDC) 2007 (Aug 5-11), hosted by Koç University. But since I'd never been to Turkey, and had heard nothing but positive comments about it, I extended my trip by about a week before and after, to allow for some travel. I was there from July 31-Aug 17.

I arrived in Istanbul with Dan and Hannah; we met Shannon at the airport, and Julia joined us a half-hour later, also at the airport. We cabbed it into our hostel in Sultanahmet, the most tourist-heavy section of Istanbul, and also the section with some of the most beautiful sites-The Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia and Grand Bazaar, to name but a few.

We spent the first day hitting the major tourist attractions, i.e. those noted above. I cannot emphasise enough how stunningly gorgeous the Blue Mosque (pictured below at night, from the rooftop bar in our youth hostel) and Hagia Sophia are. The Blue Mosque, especially, revels in its intricacy and beauty. I've long been a fan of the ornate, ancient cathedrals of Europe, and I am no hard-pressed to decide between the two genres of religious buildings. In either case, the tapestries, decorations, altars and mosaics and phenomenal. The Hagia Sophia has a slightly more austere look, possibly due to its age, possibly due to its conversion into a mosque from its original design as a cathedral, followed by its conversion into a museum. However, the dones and courtyards, and the expansive inner atrium all speak to a devotion to the almighty that I find equally understandable and inconceivable.


The Grand Bazaar, on the other hand, impressed me less. Though it certainly bore the thriving, vibrant air of bargaining and hustling I'd been lead to expect, I was disappointed at the repetitiveness and cheapness of the merchandise. This clearly is not where Turks come to shop, but rather where they relieve clueless tourists of their money. Chess sets, carpets and fake clothes/watches/handbags abound, oft-repeated from one stall to the next. Haggling is a must, and as it is a skill I lack, I most certainly was taken for a ride on the few items I did choose to purchase. I think I'll stick to eBay from now on. Inexplicably, I'd end up back at the bazaar at least three more times over the course of my trip. Go figure.

After this, we met up with Rosie and planned the next phase of our trip: Gallipoli. Dan had found out about a tour to Gallipoli, the area of Turkey in which allied forces (Dan's grandfather included) landed during the first world war. The tour we elected to go on was a two-day, all-inclusive affair; they included a bus trip to Channakale, a guided bus tour of the war sites and grave sites, a night in a local youth hostel and (the highlight of the trip), SCUBA diving down to WW1 wrecks.

As with all such war-memorial tours I've taken, this one was quite humbling. The territory was breathtakingly beautiful, from the azure ocean to the vibrant hillsides. To look out over such expanses and think of young men clawing their way up amidst machine-gun fire, to think of people spilling blood to either seize or defend such beautiful territory and the dominion of those who resided on it, is a shocking indictment of humanity.

The SCUBA diving was great, even though I got badly sunburned (due in part to my policy of staying out far too long because of my long-standing and never-successful policy of "if I'm not pink now, I never will be, right?" and due partly to Julia's sabotage of my lower back suntan lotion application.) We were cut somewhat short for time due to a few technical glitches early on, but I still got to go down and see a sunken desalinisation vessel. Apparently, the Turks had retrofitted a whaling boat to desalinate the sea water and provide fresh water for the troops. The thinking was that the allied ships wouldn't sink a civilian boat. This worked for awhile, until one of the allied warships finally asked the question "wait a minute! There aren't whales for thousands of miles, why do you need a whaling boat?", after which it was promptly sunk. This was my first time SCUBA-diving and I therefore had to stick close to the dive master, but it was a great experience. Once you get used to breathing through the regulator, the feeling of weightlessness really is amazing, and it was a great way to experience a small piece of history.

The next week was filled with debating, and I won't bore everyone with the details (all two of you who read this blog, anyway). Suffice it to say, it was filled with fun, merriment, pretension, drinking, socialising, catching up with old friends, meeting new friends, debating, debating and more debating, some more drinking, some wonderful buffets and some great parties. Koç put on an absolutely flawless tournament; from the food to the socials to the debating, everything was done to the highest standards and executed brilliantly. They are bidding for the world championships in 2010, and I hope they get it. Dan and I did alright at the tournament, but were disappointed by our early performance, which relegated us to some less-than-spectacular rooms later on. Highlights of the tournament for me were the night-time boat cruise of the Bosphorus river, the final round being held in a 5th century Byzantine cathedral, and the post-final clubbing in all our over-dressed, sweaty geekiness. You haven't lived until you've seen 200 debaters in a small, hot club in suits and ties, pretending they know how to dance.

After that, my plan had been to go to Safranbolu (a city in the north of Turkey that's generally out of the way and supposedly quite nice, old and quaint) for a day or so, then spend a few days in the Cappadocia region in the south, specifically hoping to solo-hike the length of the Ilhara Valley. However, after a solid week of debating, I was pretty worn out, and decided to spend a day at the beach, and doing some lounging around with various debaters at the university (which had a lovely pool). Both of these were nice and relaxing, and got my batteries well recharged; however, the lost time impinged on my other plans, and I had to scrap Safranbolu completely. In the end, though I greatly enjoyed the pool and beach time I had, I wish I'd been better organised about my travel plans; alas, it just gives me that much more to see on the next visit. And I did still get to see Cappadocia, which had been one of must-sees, and was a sublime experience.

Cappadocia, a region in the south of Turkey, is the centre of Turkey Christianity; for this reason, it is veritably littered with scores of ancient churches, frescoes and temples. What's fascinating about the region, however, is not that it is the epicentre of Christianity for the Turks; rather it is the unique landscapes and geological formations, and the resultant ways of life that took root there, creating environs that exist nowhere else and sit as monuments to austere beauty and workmanship. The central and preeminent feature of Cappadocia is the so-called "fairy chimneys" (pictured above). I won't go into detail about how these were formed, if you are curious, check out this brief Wikipedia article. Basically, ancient Turks can across these fairy chimneys and decided that they'd made great adobes. Therefore, the carved intricate, often multi-storey houses into the chimneys, and into many of the surrounding caves. They had windows, different rooms for different purposes, churches and more. The basically developed an entire society centred around the local geological formations. Interestingly, a few of these fairy chimneys are still inhabited, with some even being for sale.

This gives Cappadocia the feel of two very strong bits of fictional imagery: Bedrock City (from the Flintstones) and Tatooine (from Star Wars). Seeing dozens of caves (and pigeon coops) nestled into the windswept hills evokes both cultural images. I spent my time in Cappadocia both exploring on my own and on an organised tour. The open-air museum in Goreme features some of the most intricate fairy chimney abodes and many churches, and I spent a late morning/early afternoon perusing the museum. I then went off on my own, hiking through the nearby valley of swords, which contained a collection of smaller lumps, many of which were carved out, but the mority of them long since abandoned, and often eroded somewhat. It was tranquil and lovely, and when I crested the hill edging the valley, I could see down below a series of fields and what appeared to be some inhabited fairy chimneys. It was a scene of utter peace and exuded a sense of harmony. To enjoy the settings, I picked a cave carved into one of the lump-shaped abandoned mini-fairy chimneys and just read for several hours (Anil's Ghost for those that are curious, an amazingly descriptive work I'd highly recommend).
I also wrote some postcards, and may have napped for a short while. It was a lovely respite; while I enjoy an always-moving, see-everything-yo-can trip as well, there's something nice about just finding a shady, but still hot area, and relaxing completely.

The guided tour I did was of an underground city and a hike along the Ihhara Valley. The underground city, built millennia ago, and originally designed to house as many as 50,000 inhabitants. It was designed as a security feature, and was generally uninhabited. The idea was, the community would live in the city above, but if they were ever attacked, they could retreat to the underground city for refuge. The main access was through a narrow stairwell opening into a large chamber, thus allowing for an easy defence against any interlopers who might try to take over the city from above.

The Ihlara valley hike was quite possibly one of the most breathtaking walks I've ever taken. Cut through sandstone hills (with caves and churches carved into them at frequent intervals), the Ihlara Valley is a swath of lust foliage and a beautiful river amid the arid environs typical to that part of Anatolia. Pristine and dripping with a sense of history and grandeur, the valley is as yet not completely overrun by tourists, though they are plentiful. The hike takes about four hours, and you can hear the babbling of the river besides you at all times, while gazing up at the cliff face, in which thousands of people once lived, prayed and thrived. It's a truly unique locale, and although I was initially wary of taking a guided tour rather than going on my own, I'm glad that I did-it gave me a chance to see more than I would have otherwise, and the experience was wonderful. That night, I went out with some Canadians from the youth hostel in which I was staying (which, incidentally was built into a cave, very cool indeed) for an organised night of traditional Turkish dancing, food and wine. Very fun.

After that, I took the long bus ride back to Istanbul, where I stayed for a night before flying back to Manchester. The experience, I think it's fair to say, left me in some awe. Turkey is a fascinating country, and one about which I wish I knew more, and one to which I definitely aspire to return some day. Turkey is a country that is overwhelmingly Muslim, yet officially secular. It's a country that is the gateway between Europe and the Middle East, and that encompasses both a diverse and proud history, and a modern bent. All of this is reflect in many aspects of Turkey, but doubly so in Istanbul itself.

In Istanbul, it is a common sight to see a 1500-year-old mosque cloistered next to a modern glass office building. Markets and bazaars coexist with electronics shops and cellular phone providers. The country's religiosity is evident in the existence of the (technically banned) headscarves worn by many women, yet the secularism that is bound in law is obvious, in the bohemian, party atmosphere of the night life and the modernity of dress. There are, of course, factions that think this movement has happened too quickly-the recent election of the AK party, though tempered by the military, has shown that there are many who object to the banning of religious icons in public. Turkey clashes with its ethnic Kurdish people demonstrate the tensions that exist within this frequently conquered state, once subjugated by the Ottoman empire, among others.

Turkey seems to stand at a crossroads, disparate views stretching forth in front of it. The minarets of mosques that are visible throughout show its adherence to its Islamic roots, yet Turkey's on-again-off-again desire to join the European Union has brought about changes to its human rights and social welfare policies that are more in line with liberal democracies. The appeals of each seems to be divergent, yet the Turkish people seem to handle this internal conflict with comparative aplomb, the glittering skylines and traditional architecture a monument to the republic that Ataturk crated, forged in the crucible of the first world war. Whether they embrace the traditional roots, mired in the past, adherent to religious teachings and traditional values, or embrace the modernity offered by the western world, with its potential pitfalls in economics and the often-implied loss of individuality and morality, is still to be decided. Whichever road Turkey takes, a culture so strong, so proud and so deserving on unity and preservation seems unlikely to disappear into the miasma of sameness so prevalent in other parts of the world. As part of the EU, or as an independent nation, Turkey will always be Turkey: hot, beautiful, austere and traditional; giving, exciting, modern and
dynamic. As the office towers continue to sprout, the dily calls to prayer from the Blue Mosque will no doubt echo into the evening's gloom, a haunting testament to the well-deserved pride of Turkish people, and their strength.

Following the military triumph we accomplished by bayonets, weapons and blood, we shall strive to win victories in such fields as culture, scholarship, science and economics.
- Mustafa Kemal Atatürk