There was a funny exhibit at the Utah Natural History Museum that I found myself strangely drawn to (hence all the snapshots!). Previous visitors to the weather section of the museum had been asked to write down any significant weather events they could think of. What resulted was an assemblage of yellow Post-Its representing the collective memory of the elements. The exhibit appealed to me because it reminded me of a charrette, a common participatory method in city planning where people contribute various ideas that are then qualitatively analyzed and used in larger, overarching designs.
In the case of the weather exhibit, what I think was being highlighted was the fact that climate change can bring about extreme weather patterns, and it’s not something that’s completely undetectable to the average person - otherwise, these memories would not have stuck out and been stuck on the wall. I also liked the exhibit because it was a bit silly and I’m a sucker for kids’ wobbly handwriting and dubious spelling tactics. There were some, um, very creative entries!
If I had had a chance to add a note, I would have written about the hot season in Sikoroni (a periurban neighborhood in Bamako, Mali where I used to live). One day, I walked home from work in the extreme heat. I passed the market (all ice chunks were sold out), up the fairly steep hill to my house, thinking all the while that I could just take a bucket bath when I got home. I passed several boutiques, where all the cold water was sold out. Moreover, the power had gone out as well, so nothing was going to cool off anytime soon.
Perhaps the extreme weather made me forget that when your water is stored in plastic jugs, it assumes the ambient temperature. I arrived at my room, hot and thirsty, and all that welcomed me was hot-tub temperature water. I panicked for a moment, realizing I literally had no means to cool down but to sit and wait. And pray. I sat for an hour, afraid to raise my body temperature. I have never felt so hot in my life. And at a strange, blissful moment, the heat began to decline and I felt a calm energy seeping back into me. The precipice of heatstroke is not a fun place to be!
