Sitting on the Gaweye cobbled front step Brad tapped at his jPad while awaiting Aahil. A client supplied guide was taking him on a project background infogram tour. He couldn’t help nudging his tour follower interests towards the changing climate back home. Both history and projections.
An overview had shown the speed of altering influences worldwide. What had recently been voiced as a grandchildren’s problem, well, no question that was way off now. Today’s grandchildren were going to experience situational overload with their new normal weather patterns. A tour stop emphasized the crushing contribution of the way of living back home to the problem, while the way Aahil and his family lived in Niger added so little. Heating a northern home read lame excuse. Next stop showed growth as the consumer habit that needed to be broken. But yeah he winced, tell that to most anyone back home. How would you get people kicking the habit of their own lifestyle? The ingrained recreational shopping thing? One side infogram detailed how consumption could be classed as more than just a habit. As a true addiction the gram highlighted the negative impacts on the participant. The guides took him on another side tour of economics. Economic recessions had been one of the few influences that relieved the insanity of carbon emissions acceleration. Then further historical data showed lower recessional hydrocarbon prices at the pumps kick starting the economic cycle again. The guides pointed repeatedly to the problem as people-based, that Vince and Jeri topic. Most folks don’t want to be bothered with a future other than the one they have planned. Ever since they were a kid. Like those oil company workers in Vince’s Calgary. To avoid any change, those guys simply avoided the conversation.
How smart was pretending he wondered, glancing up at traffic and checking the time. An SUV pulled up to the steps but not the Nissan. He looked back towards the Kennedy traffic circle.
No question, he had to stick with what he had concluded—that a fellow had to keep a survival tactic in play. As time passed, his outlook turned more into Plan A than B. A big ruckus would hit and folks needed a strategy on how to get through. That was key. How to live like Aahil’s family made so much sense. Before his eyes, an excellent low risk model. Their background survival skills developed under harsh desert conditions and they were now living in a world of significant climate change impact. How could he transfer their strategy back to the Pacific NW?
Folks needed think of the basics for a year or a few years or longer. You needed water for one. Unlike a desert, plenty came from the sky in the back home mountain valley. He had a water well drilled so the place had an dependable water supply. And he had that rainwater capture system designed for the survival cell roof. Water was of primary importance.
You needed food—secured for that year or two to make sure. You store high density durable nutrition, a grain like rice. For the longer term any basic design needed a garden, keeping independent of today’s global food market. Grow your own he winced or at least make a deal with local farmers. With no green thumb he needed low maintenance crops and to negotiate on the food part. He’d learned a couple things about mountain valley agriculture. Soft fruit could be high maintenance; cherry groves needed regular spraying. So you picked the right fruit. Fruit trees attracted bears—his wife pointed that out. So far he’d planted plum and apricot trees and a patch of raspberries all at the far end of the land in case a bear wandered in. But nuts he reasoned would function better for both attention needed and long term storage. Carpathian walnuts, and hazelnuts and Chinese chestnuts grew in the valley. Blending in as forest, nuts fed folks a highly nutritious diet. The rifle and a supply of shells would make it easy to pick off a deer for winter protein. The gun would be only for hunting hopefully.
You needed a clothing supply. Quality manufactured clothes lasted a long time. Making leather from deer hides came to mind, but that was too old school. That type of clothing took too much effort—ideally the transition would never come to that. Instead, you stock up on and store boxes of extra factory-made clothes. Seasonal clothes, to keep warm in winter.
You needed shelter. A place to sleep, eat and stay warm and dry. After designing, he had near finished constructing the cell, one that turned out to be no more than an inconspicuous cabin. Tiny, but with all the amenities of a house. An off-grid solar panel and low voltage battery system powered LED lights and electronics. He spent time there last winter, checking warmth from the small wood burning stove. With wood everywhere, staying warm should work. While the people of the world made friends with each other. Or gradually learned to, if they needed a while.
As he rose to stretch, the Nissan Patrol drove in off the Boulevard. Aahil pulled up right in front of him and he jumped in.
He shook his African friend’s hand. “Hey let’s get over to the warehouse and see what showed up.” They pulled away, back into the morning traffic. Aahil seemed unnaturally quiet, staring ahead at the road without a word. Brad wondered about interpreting Taureg thinking, but then decided to slide in his questions on Taureg life.
“So Aahil, you think you could live back in the desert?” He looked over. “Just in case of hard times?”
As they circled the roundabout Brad listened as Aahil told how a wise Taureg family had another way. His father had moved into the city, but always kept contact with family in the desert. For him, his connections with his cousins up around Agadez kept a network alive. The way his cousin Aksil lived, that could be done. But all in the city would be missing; he would most wish to stay in Niamey. Aahil fell silent again as they pulled onto the green bridge and Brad glanced around out the window as they crossed.
He sensed an excitement, certainly a tremble in Aahil’s voice when he spoke. Brad was surprised when he glanced, catching a look of concern on a face terminally calm.
Brad remained quiet when Aahil finished, asking no more.