One of the strange things about being a blogger is that you frequently start out fully intending to write about one thing, and then discover yourself compelled by what seems a better, more interesting affair.
Though the first intention—an Israeli guy who’s making cardboard bikes—is pretty interesting. The cost alone is amazing—he estimated each bike will be less than fifteen US dollars. Most people pay more for a good bike lock than that.
I know all this because the good Taí sent me a link about the bicycles from The Economist. And it seems that the inventor, Izhar Gafni, has done his damnedest to use everything recycled. The hand bars are derived from Coke bottles. The chain is from recycled car rubber, as are the wheels. The frame and most of the rest is made up cardboard, which Gafni has folded, to increase strength. After that, he applies a resin to increase resilience, and waterproofing.
The low cost makes the bike a godsend for poor countries, since transportation is often a critical problem in the lives of poor people. I looked it up, in those days when I was championing everything from green roofs to the Lion’s Club eye glass donation to making an actual windmill be the star in Wal*Mart in the sign outside our stores.
Bicycles for Humanity—an organization starting in 2005, has shipped over 45,000 bikes to Africa. That’s not nothing. For a culture based on cars, the bike is a toy. But here’s what the organization says in its webpage:
A bicycle solves the problem of mobility and helps empower people to change their life. The mobility a bicycle provides allows people to travel greater distances in a shorter length of time and transport much more weight. Mothers can carry containers of water back to their village in a fraction of the time walking required. Students get to school faster saving precious daylight for studies. Parents transport more items to market to sell. Healthcare workers are 3 to 4 times more productive.
It’s estimated that ten million bicycles are dumped in landfills in Europe and North America. But these bikes are critically needed in Africa, and other developing nations.
Well, in those long-gone days of my bearing the standard of sustainability at Wal-Mart, I would have proposed something like this. Wal-Mart donates all its cardboard—or at least that usable for the bikes—to a local factory set up to produce the bikes. Wal-Mart also provides support for marketing, human resources, finance, and logistics. And of course, for every bike purchased at Wal-Mart, Wal-Mart donates a cardboard bike for the kid in Africa who needs one.
In those days, ideas like the one above came as regularly as flies to a picnic. And, like the flies, the ideas were always swatted down. One of the first victims of corporate positivism is the shadow side—a negativism to anything that is new and—especially—not vetted by the boss.
In fact, for all the thinking outside the box that we were always adjured to do, there were people who practiced rote inside the box. Because it’s not only possible to make bicycles from cardboard, you can actually make furniture from paper.
Or at least papier—as in papier mache. It was quite a Victorian thing, like the horsehair upholstery used on couches. And primarily it was tables and decorative objects. But not always—check this out:
Nice, hunh? And since it’s been around since the mid-nineteenth century, pretty durable, as well. The British Victorians, it seems, listen to offbeat ideas at bit corporate America.
What some people listen to, it also turns out, is the voice of God.
I know this because it really seemed unlikely—could I make a post out of a cardboard bicycle? I’m only on page two here, and 639 words. So I was trawling, looking for something with a little more heft than just a bicycle.
CNN came sailing through, as it so often does. And who could not click on a link, “My Take, If you Hear God Speak Audibly, you (Usually) Aren’t Crazy.” Clearly a thing to check out.
Full disclosure—I have had an audible hallucination. By which I mean I perceived a voice that was exactly the same in feeling and experientially as the voice of Mr. Fernández, each night, three feet away from me at the dining room table.
And in fact it was Mr. Fernández’s voice that I though I heard, saying the words that he says every night to his favorite cat, Kitty.
“Yo,” I shouted.
No response.
There was nothing eerie or uncanny about it. He simply wasn’t there.
Nor am I alone. About one in ten Evangelical Christians say they have heard the voice of God, according to T. M. Luhrmann. Gallup, in 1999, reported that 23% of Americans had heard a voice or seen something that was not there in response to prayer.
Nor is it only God we’re hearing. A surprising number of people report hearing the voice of a person they have lost, and are grieving. Twenty-eight percent, according to one study in Wales, over 60 percent, according to Dr. Phil.
In contrast, the rate of schizophrenia—the hallmark of which is hallucination—is only about 1%. And the messages / hallucinations tend to be different—the messages coming through prayer are filled with peace and love. Psychotics tend to hear quite the opposite.
Well, it’s a curious topic—what’s real and what’s not. There are also, by the way, negative hallucinations—when you don’t perceive something that is there. They probably happen a million times a day. How many times, when I was practicing the cello, focusing so intently on the music, did I lost sight of the actual cello—the reddish-brown varnish, the nick on the purfling—that I was playing?
And there are a number of diseases and conditions that can produce hallucinations: epilepsy, migraines, steroids, even too much caffeine.
Come clean. Besides that one hallucination, I’ve come very close to others. It was in my darkest moment on depression, and it felt as if only enormous willpower could keep me from changing my thoughts into voices. I was, I think, at that threshold where thought becomes voice.
Better minds than my mind will figure it out. In fact, one of them—Oliver Sacks—is soon to be out with a new book entitled Hallucinations. So he may prove or disprove my theory: the center for recognition of oral speech (that is, the voice speaking next to you) is very close to and intimately linked to the center that processes words, including the words that form our thinking. Sometimes, with stress, fatigue, varying chemicals and different diseases, the connections are lost, or jangled. A thought becomes a voice.
Well, why not? We live in part in a land of mystery: a thought becomes a voice, or a form, like the vision of Jesus after his death. Oh, and also a more prosaic land, where a cardboard box becomes a bicycle.
Which, for a kid in Africa, might be both a mystery and a miracle.
