Day 20: The Place Where Time Stood Still

The Royal Observatory, Greenwich

Walking through the expansive and verdant grounds of the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, up the hill towards the large red ball on the Flamsteed House, I imagined what it must have looked like a few hundred years ago. I imagined it looked just like this.

Greenwich Mean Time

There weren’t too many signs of modernity, and if you closed your ears and didn’t hear the rumble of the cars on the street below, you may as well have been in 19^th century Greenwich. My adventure began first thing in the morning and two overground trains and one hour later I was finally, walking up to the Prime Meridian of the World. Longitude 0°00'00'', zero degrees East and West, the spot where every other spot on the world was relative to, well longitudinally speaking. I was moving toward The Constant.   

The Royal Observatory Grounds

The Royal Observatory commissioned in 1675 by King Charles II is best known as the home to the Prime Meridian. Situated on a hill atop Greenwich Park, it has a stunning view that overlooks the Thames. 

The Flamsteed House

The Flamsteed House is where the first Royal Astronomer, John Flamsteed lived and studied. The artifacts of his astronomy and navigational discoveries are still in the house. The red ball on the top of the Octagon room, drops everyday at 1 PM. It was the first example of a visual clock ever used.

The Planetarium

The Octagon room itself, designed by Christopher Wren is an eight walled atrium of magnificent light. Wall to wall, there are showcases of ancient clocks and telescopes. I could have lived in that room and dreamed all the discoveries they ever made there. Four separate meridians have been drawn through the Royal Observatory, but in 1884 an international conference established the current line as the Prime Meridian of the World. Around the courtyard visitors flocked to straddle and sit on the brass strip. 

The Prime Meridian of theWorld

Positioning themselves half at zero degrees to the West and half at zero degrees to the East, they photographed their feet and their hands, hopping back and forth over the boundary chanting “east-west-east-west.” I admittedly participated in the ritual as well.

Longitude 0°00'00''

Los Angeles!

The building adjacent to it had a sign that read “The Prime Meridian of the World.” Above it was a square hole that beamed a laser line to mark the Prime Meridian, it was the most modern addition to this historical site in a long time. A large clock that was always set to “Greenwich Mean Time (GMT)" stood outside the entrance. Below it were the standard units of measurement on steel plates that are still used today. There was so much history here. But so much relativity as well. There was nothing magic about the line except that it needed to start somewhere. Sailors used the equator to navigate North and South, the latitude lines, but until the standardization of the Prime Meridian they had no longitudinal constant, so this is where they chose to start it from. Time and space really were relative. Afterall, clocks would be moving ahead by an hour in a few days, but only in some parts of the world, not others. Every time else would be relative to that time change. Its amazing how we mortals play with time like that, but that's the beauty of it, time and space are malleable concepts, how we map it and mold it are simply based on our understanding of it at the time.

The Prime Meridian of the World

Marks the spot

Schoolchildren on class trips, ran around the courtyard. They had their own theories about space and time, most of it based on video games, but nonetheless they seemed eager to learn. I could only imagine what advancements of space and astronomy they would see in their lifetimes. Perhaps things I couldn't even imagine yet. The planetarium behind the Observatory showcased interactive media on stars and the solar system and films on the origins of the universe.

Displays of math and physics and the famous astronomers who discovered them, covered the walls and lured the curious minded. There were early telescopes, large and small. Giant clocks with intricate dials and pocket sized ones that could be tucked away. There were nautical navigation systems and primitive communication phones, maps of the stars and the seas, orbs of lines and measurements, arcs, and compasses, all quietly shelved, holding their secrets in their silence.

An entire room was made into a camera obscura. The blackened rotunda let no light in. A long, thin shaft rose through to the roof and ended in a lens. It let in only a silver a light. Focused toward the direction of the Queen’s House, it reflected a black and white image on a table below. This was one of my favorite rooms.

Camera Obscura Room

As I imagined what it must have been like to study the abstract concepts of time, space and navigation with what was akin to primitive equipment, I slowly realized these tools were not primitive at all. 

The coordinated systems of latitude and longitude based on pendulums, almanacs and the degree of the sun above the horizon, were the resilient testament of a sophisticated thought and theory in the 19^th century. These blocks of wood and hunks of metal were the equivalent of computers in our day. 

View from the top

The creation of modern day navigation systems was sprung from the evolution of these designs. Rooted in the burgeoning math and physics of the era, they looked to celestial skies  to map the world and to travel it. What an amazing achievement that any ship made it to their port of destination and back in those days. Navigating on a featureless sea was a heroic feat and one I didn't think to give much credit for until today.

Schoolchildren

As I moved from exhibit to exhibit, display to display ooh-ing and ahh-ing along with 5^th and 6^th graders, I stopped a moment and walked back to the Line, and stood there. I was at point zero, the fixed point. 

The Gibeon Meteorite

Here on these historical grounds, astronomers long dead, studied the mysteries of time and space with simple tools based on ancient concepts. They mapped the stars, they navigated the seas, they calculated the time. They knew how to find themselves by the lights in the sky and where they were in the world at any given moment of the day just by looking at the way the sun moved on the horizon.

The Walk Up

Their nascent tools were the evolutionary blueprint of our modern GPS, the one we take for granted everyday in our cars and phones. What they found then, has helped us find our ever since.

Standing on The Line surrounded by the legacy of a long forgotten time, amidst the aboriginal tools of wooden telescopes and weighted pendulum clocks, there was no present, or future, just the past rolling over and over again. It was the first time I ever stood in this place and who knew if I would ever stand here again, or if I had not already stood here a thousand times before.

Standing atop a green hill overlooking a timeless river, the view of the houses of Kings and Queens that once ruled the land, lay stately below, the descending clouds that brought the rain, the blossoming sun that begged them away, moved playfully above, and I stood at the fixed point of the world, turning in time towards the future, revolving away into the past, moving at the speed of light.

The Thames in the distance

Finite in form, infinite in being, I was an insignificant moment in an eternal time, a single lie in the infinite truth, I was a piece of time and starlight with nowhere to go but here. Gases to gases, stardust to stardust, evolving and revolving, turning and returning, spiraling around the fixed point of the world. I was the beginning and the end. I was everything and I was nothing all at once.

The walk back down

The DLR to Greenwich

There was a greatness and a humility here that moved beyond the trappings of tourism or even the Meridian itself. It was a place of reverence and discovery like the ancient pyramids were to the Mayans and Egyptians. It was a place where man long ago, and man now, captured the light, harnessed the stars, contained all time and then let them go. I could not help but be transformed by it.

I took my time walking back down the hill, savoring every last moment of the day. I didn’t bother looking at my watch. I was certain I wouldn’t miss my any of my trains, I was after all, in the place where time stood still.

Downtown Greenwich

The Maritime Museum

"Come back soon. There is so much more to learn."

Day 19: The Circle and The Square

The London Eye

Having turned in a 30 page rough draft on our project proposal, our group was feeling a little euphoric. Although we still had a lot of work to finish in the next coming weeks, we deserved an afternoon off, so we took one. I decided as it was exactly the halfway mark of my trip and I had not yet seen the Thames it was time. 

I made a quick stop by Pain du Jour (my favorite lunch spot) grabbed a sandwich and juice  and headed for Waterloo Station. Lunch on the Thames was the plan.

Waterloo Station was one of the largest stations I had seen so far and it was as puzzling to get into as it was to get out of. It was the most crowded I had seen London since I had been here, but the crowds were about to get larger. Given it was a random Wednesday afternoon, I thought I would be the only one out of work early, but no luck. 

The Circle

There were tourists everywhere. Not to be deterred, I made my way through the crowd. I was still having lunch on the Thames.The London Eye, the 443-ft ferris wheel on the bank of the River Thames is unexpectedly massive when you stand at the base of it. Moving at 0.5 mph, from a distance it doesn’t look like it’s moving at all.

The Sqaure

I learned that there are 32 passenger capsules around the wheel representing the 32 boroughs in London. The overwhelming “bicycle wheel” eclipses all other landmarks in the surrounding area except for one, Big Ben.

The Thames

The unusual convergence of the large, white, modern wheel of floating pods across the River from the enduringly stoic, brown citadel of Big Ben, was almost too obvious a statement on the collision of the old and the new, of the intersection of the past with the present. But somehow it worked. 

Parliament Square

I couldn’t help but feel though, that the combination of the crowds, the kids, the ferris wheel, the street vendors and the camera flashes gave the whole venerable Banks of the Thames, the quality of an amusement park. The line to get into the Eye was predictably long, so I skipped the ride for another day and headed across the bridge. On the other side of the bridge, Big Ben, Parliament and Westminster Abbey were classically clustered around a two block area and were equally as crowded as the The London Eye.   

Big Ben and Parliament

Abraham Lincoln

Tour buses, double decker buses, fleets of tourists and hackney cabs, flooded the streets from stop light to stop light. The smell of spicy fried onions from street vendors selling hot dogs, mixed with the sweet, caramel scent of roasted-sugared nuts being sold by their neighbors. The Union Jack canvased every tourist shop along the bank, branding everything from T-shirts to cell phone covers. This was mass-marketed tourism at its best.

And yet among the chaos of curio shops and the holler of street cabs, the flash of camera bulbs and the hustle of tour groups, there was a potency to Big Ben and Parliament. Standing there like noble lions in the zoo, ignoring all the visitors who come to gawk at them through barred cages, they firmly stood their ground.

Westminster Abbey

Indifferent and powerful, these buildings that exuded the history and power they were created to represent, were impervious to all around them, standing with powerful reserve, their decided inaccessibility sturdy against the turbulence that invaded them.

Endless buses

Parliament Square, the corner of the street where lived the honored values of a revered past and the London Eye, the colossal circle which housed the modernity of a coming age, both lived side by side along the Thames, shaping the history of their times.

Day 17 and 18: And today we worked: Bringing Bednets to Badakhshan

Latte: Don't try class without it

Class is in session

“You have 2 years and 1 million US dollars, to design and implement a disease control program for the treatment of endemic and Neglected Tropical Diseases (NTD) in the resource limited setting of 6 rural provinces in post-war Northern Afghanistan with a focus on the morbidity of social ostracism related to cutaneous lesihmaniasis. Submit a proposal for consideration to the country’s Ministry of Health, potential donors, relevant non-government organizations (NGOs) and stakeholders in 5 weeks. Begin.”

More lecture

Vector control of a giant gerbil? Huh?

What?! That was one tall order and not a lot of time or money to serve it up in! I was going to have to learn everything about leishmaniasis and Afghanistan and fast. The class of 120 was divided into multiple groups of 6 members each, our task, as stated above, was to bring some relief and public health expertise to a post-war torn Northern Afghanistan. My group was an international mix of chaos and talent. We hailed from Sweden, Calgary, the Middle East, Germany, California and Illinois. The scope of our backgrounds ranged from masters student, to pharmacist to laboratory researcher to physician. 

Yes, there is no running water for your hygiene campaign.

We got along well and agreed on nothing, but we shared a common goal, and that was to learn how to develop sustainable programs, in resource limited settings. Essentially we were learning how to save the world on a budget.

Veggie burger break time in the cafeteria

The questions we were confronted with on a daily basis were unlike any questions I have had to answer as a physician in the “modern” world. Questions such as accessibility to health care in a war torn environment, getting medical care for women whose husbands wouldn't allow it, distributing bed nets to homes in hard terrain areas, finding literate and educated health care workers to help translate interventions and using donkeys where vehicles couldn't travel. The class materials were intense, the lectures dense and the group work demanding. I was loving every bit of it.

It costs how much to rent a donkey?

Are we sure about the shuras?

But these were not just theoretical questions for the sake of argument and of class material. These were questions that were being asked every day on the ground in these countries right now. The current events of the time with revolution and retaliation in the Middle East, made the assignment all the more timely and relevant. What would we do if we had the chance and how would we do it? The possibilities endless, the suggestions for intervention strategies creative (and comical at times), point of views diverse, but regardless of where we stood,we embraced the task and dove right in.

What do you mean we're already over budget??

We spent days on end drafting tables, doing literature searches, creating scenarios, finding maps and generating ideas. We looked at systems we could integrate into existing models already in the field and worked on developing new ones that hadn't been tested yet. 
It seemed dysynchronous talking about rare tropical diseases across the street from the stoic halls of the British Museum in a modern, London city classroom, but I couldn’t imagine where else in the world such an eclectic group of diverse talent could come together to fulfill an assignment with such cohesiveness.
The international appeal of the London School drew students from all over the world seeking the chance to learn from professors who had actually rolled out these proposals on the ground and worked in the true trenches of public health.

Leishmaniasis and a latte

And back to class. . .

The sun had been out for two days now, and although it was still crisp in the shade, being in class was difficult when all I wanted to do was catch some rays and shoot some film along the Thames. But I didn’t. I was just as engrossed in the work at hand as I was in sights left unseen. Lectures on behavior change, policy reform and cultural sensitivity were as interesting as they were invaluable. I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to use or integrate these new skills and knowledge when I got home, but I was pretty sure it was going to be indispensable in my arsenal of learning.

Our fearless leader

As we teemed over budget costs for bed nets in rural provinces in Northern Afghanistan, over unit doses of pentavalent antimonials and costs of health education campaigns, I imagined what it would be like to realize this project in Northern Afghanistan with my team. To actually go there on the ground and implement our strategy. 
As I dreamed about the hot desert sands and cities with names like Kandahar, Kunduz and Nuristan I made a hopeful wish that one day I would. But for now, I would get back to work in Bloomsbury looking for ways to bring bed nets to Badakhshan.

Day 16: On The Fast Train

St. Pancras International

Having mastered my way around the UNDERground for the last two weeks, it was time to travel OVERground. 
I took the tube from Highbury and Islington, one stop over to the Kings Cross/St. Pancras Station and looked for signs to the Southeastern Rail Station. I was going to Kent. Kent is a borough about 50 miles out of London. A few years ago, the UK’s first, high speed domestic train service was built. Traveling up to speeds up to 140 mph, it could make the journey between London and Kent in 17 minutes! And I was going to take it. Excitedly, I bought my ticket. As I had about half an hour before my train was to leave, I thought I’d look around. 
The St. Pancras International Railway station is an enormous hub of activity. 

Highspeed Train

As it is the central tube stop for many connecting domestic and international trains, there was no shortage of foot traffic that morning. Roller bags of all sizes and colors could be heard weeling around the large station arena. 

Peyton and Byrne

Overhead messages announcing arrivals and departures to places like Canterbury, Brussels, Gravesend and Paris came one after the other. Enticing.   
Exuberant kids posed by the Olympic rings mounted on the far end of the station as their over-zealous parents snapped photographs before boarding the train. The WHOLE station was on an adventure, just like me. 

To Kent!

Where were they coming from? Where were they going? What were they going to do when they got there? I could only imagine.
As I walked on further through the station, the cupcake and tea display in the window of Peyton and Byrne, “an unabashedly British bakery,” was too inviting to pass up. I popped in for a latte, with 20 minutes left to go, I awaited my train. With suitcases and tickets in hand, the line in front of me spoke in tongues of French and German and Italian. Their multilingualism had one thing in common, the universal language of cake.With latte in hand, I made my way to the top platform. The train was relatively empty so I managed to procure a seat by the window. It was predictably freezing outside, despite my new hat, gloves, scarf and wool coat, so I was glad to get inside the warmth. 

Interesting train read

I sat down and readied my camera out of my bag. I was going to shoot the English countryside all the way to Kent. The final boarding announcement was made and the doors closed. I was ready for my first England overground train ride! With a smooth and quiet start, we were off. 

I guess it's still popsicle weather

The only clue to how fast we were going, were the blazing lines on the tunnel wall as we left the station, other than that, you would never have known we were traveling at 140 mph. The conductor passed by, stamped my ticket and gave me a warm “welcome aboard.” I finished my latte, fiddled with my camera, took a couple of pictures and then….we were there! Ebbsfleet International already??

What?!

That was one fast train.

There already?!

View from train