to mind. My name is Jon Crall I'm an introverted computer scientist with an
obsessive need of consistency and a phobia of new foods. I also wrote the first
core recognition algorithm for IBEIS. Needless to say, I was nervous when asked
to travel to Kenya to deploy a prototype of IBEIS in the field.
This blog post will not be a story of a spontaneous transformation into an
extrovert who loves to travel and try new things. It will be honest account of
my feelings and experiences here. But hopefully it wont be a sad story of doom
and gloom. So often people box themselves a false dichotomy: They assume that
somebody else is not experiencing or enjoying something as wholeheartedly as
themselves then they must be at the opposite end of the extreme. I was not
dragged hear kicking and screaming. I chose to come because I truly care about
this project and what it is capable of becoming. I also knew that if I never
left my comfort zone (approximately a 42 mile radius around the city of Albany, New
York) then I would never become the great scientist that I someday hope to be.
Lets start off with something I truly love: information. If you ask Leonard
Susskind -- the physicist who challenged Steven Hawking and won -- , he'll tell
you that its the primitive building block of the universe. How fortuitous that I
find myself in a field where the bit is the fundamental unit. How lucky that --
as a cashier at Price Chopper -- I found myself with the gall to ask Naomii
Hoffman (the wife of the Vice President of Kitware) for an internship when she
came to my register. Its still mind-boggling to me how through Kitware I wind up
being accepted to the PhD program at RPI and working with Chuck Stewart.
While working with Chuck I delved into the world of Computer Vision -- the
science of using image and video to elicit and use information about the word. I
found myself with the challenge of recognizing individual zebras from
photographs. Over the next 2-3 years I learned enough to create HotSpotter, an
algorithm and primitive user-interface for identifying patterned animals,
specifically zebras. I wont talk much about the technical details (although I
really really want to); I'll just say that the algorithm was a success.
Due to the success of HotSpotter we decided to set our sights on a much more
ambitious goal: automagically build a database of tens of thousands (a baseline
number) of wildlife images and tag: where the animal is in the image (the
detection problem), who the animal is (the recognition problem; my problem), and
where and when the image was taken (easily captured by camera sensors). Given
these primitives it becomes possible to rapidly answer complex biological
questions.
I'm afraid the words "complex" and "rapidly" do not begin to do justice to how
big these questions can be and how fast we could answer them. I suppose those
who imagined and built the internet must have had a similar feeling, either that
or I have a bit of an ego, or perhaps I'm boxing myself into a false dichotomy.
This software has profound implications for conservation science. Not only will
it help the biologists do their job, but through the help of Wildbook, maybe we
can start to shift the public opinion into one which cares enough to take action
about biological diversity, ecosystem stability, and respects and acknowledges
the conciousness which every organism with a well-developed neurological
(/information processing) system must have.
Maybe now you can begin to understand why I chose to go to Kenya and leave the
comfort of 24/7 electricity, internet, abundance of plain un-intimidating food,
and the often overlooked "first world" septic system.
I hope in the context of this primer the reader can begin to appreciate the
words I have carefully chosen to describe my experience here.
For a modern day U.S citizen to find themselves in Kenya he/she must first go
through a 20 hour trial where you are exposed to excess radiation, deprived of
sleep, packed into a sardine can, and hurled through the sky. Upon landing
fingerprints are registered and you move through armed guards into a sea of taxi
drivers competing for clients.
I am extremely grateful for the buffer of the first night. We stayed at the
Country Lodge Hotel where we were given accommodations similar to those I'm
privileged to be accustomed to. I felt safe as we were in a gated area and I had
already injected with a plethora of immunizations. The only precaution were were
given was not to drink the tap water. Apparently the most common mistake a new
traveller in Kenya makes is brushing his/her teeth with the tap water. Naturally
with this in mind and a strong fear of getting sick, I panicked as I observed
myself do exactly that under the influence of muscle memory. Having done the
deed, I recited the comforting mantra: "Don't Panic" as I rinsed my mouth with
bottled water and fell asleep.
The morning brought a pleasant surprise: food I was comfortable with. I had
packed about 60 cliff bars, dried fruit, and turkey jerky in preparation for
being trapped in a novel food landscape (Here I will remind the reader that I
have a food phobia. I will also add that it is my biggest phobia, the second
being bees/wasps/yellow-black creatures with stingers). I feasted on scrambled
eggs, toast, bacon, and fresh mango (a delicacy that is impossible to find in
the States. Mangos do not travel well).
We (Chuck, Jason, Jon, and I) took the 4 hour drive from Nairobi, through the
equators, to Ol' Pejeta Conservancy. In a state of apprehension I reminded
myself to keep myself calm and relatively open to experience and notice the
landscape, architecture, and people. The most striking feature was the Kenyan
soil, which was painted red with clay. It was so pervasive that even the plants
had a dark red tinge to them. The buildings were being constructed rapidly and
supported by a winding scaffolding made of trees. Apart from the red soil the
most distinctive feature I noticed was how twisted the trees were.
We passed many gated schools and universities, farmers, goats scaling the faces
of clay cliffs, fields of maize, and a large number of pedestrians. This was
expected. I've seen many pictures of Kenya (I've actually seen more than most
people due to the nature of my work). What was not expected was that the
pedestrians never stopped. In the states you would never find someone walking
alongside of a major highway, but here there was always at least someone walking
or biking somewhere along the road.
Upon arriving at the conservancy our car was searched by guards and dogs.
Poaching a serious problem here. Its disgusting how many Rhinos are murdered for
nothing more than a horn made out of the same material as your toenails:
Keratin. We passed the inspection and were allowed to drive to the research
center.
At the research center it turned out that the conservancy staff was not
expecting us. Despite this we were served pizza for lunch. I ate a cliff bar.
We sat at the research center and waited for the staff to confirm that we were
researchers and actually had a reason to be there.
Later, after bureaucracy happened, they set up a camp site for us along a river.
We were given tents and cots which were about 3 inches to short for a person
standing 6'3". I learned something new about myself: I was still afraid of the
dark. I had thought I had moved past this years ago. Maybe it wasn't the dark.
Perhaps it was simply the more universal, ill-defined, and permeating fear of
the unknown. That and spiders. The latrine had a lot of spiders.
I've made it through three nights so far. They are by far the hardest part for
me. At the equator the sun rises and falls very quickly, so even though you get
6 hours of punctual light, there is a tangible anxiety in the last lit hour, and
a recovery period in the first. The silver lining is that the lack of light
pollution and the opportunity to view of our galaxy with the naked eye.
The days are far more pleasant than I had expected. The small tube of SPF45 that
I bought seems to be enough even for my ginger skin, the heat is far from
brutal, and the bugs don't come out until dusk. I'll leave the detailed
descriptions of the wildlife to the other bloggers, but I will say there is a
certain je ne sais quoi in seeing a savannah with elephants, zebras, lions,
etc... with your own eyes unfiltered by a window or lens. I should also note
that the soil in Ol' Pejeta is not red (lest the reader get the false impression
that the entire ground of Kenya is clay), but the more familiar brownish-yellow
color normally associated with savannah.
I'm worried that its almost too obvious that I don't share quite the same level
of enthusiasm as the other researchers here. Its difficult to find a way to say:
"I'm really really uncomfortable and nervous. This may not be my idea of a
vacation, but I really do care about this project and want to be part of this
team." Maybe its as easy as that, but it seems so much easier to be quiet and
agreeable in the face of so much unmatchable excitement.
Yet, the trip is still not over. In the spirit of science I'll do my best to
reserve judgement until all the evidence is in, although I suspect my hypothesis
that I'm not much of a traveller will be confirmed.
So, I'm anxious. Maybe irrationally so, but what I'm feeling is real and demands
to be felt. But its clear to me that I care about this project (one does not
have a nervous breakdown about something he/she does not care about) and want to
see this trip through. Will I want to come back? Well, re-read the last
paragraph and ask me on the 23rd. For now I'm focusing on leaving the best piece
of software I can muster, reconciling a sense of perfectionism with a finite
lifespan, and counting the days until I can return home to my person I have
pair-bonded with.
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