May 07, 2005

Capitol Tour

This is the front of the legislature, the legendary "House of Whispers." It comes complete with columns and a dome.

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Posted by alnemgrant at 04:41 AM | Comments (0)

May 03, 2005

Capitol Tour

I first saw the new Capitol complex under the light of the full moon. Emily and I were competing in a 24-hour adventure race, and had just emerged from the jungle during a trekking leg. Steps away atop a high hill, the four buildings that will serve as the seat of government sat in silhouette against the moon. Even then, we knew that the Capitol would be something different, for it was not styled not in the traditional A-frame manner of the Palauan bai. Instead, the capitol appeared to be modeled after the American Capitol, borrowing heavily from Roman architectural style. Emerging into the moonlight on that November night, it was as if someone had picked up Washington D.C. and dropped it in the middle of the jungle.

The new complex is located in Melekeok, halfway up Babeldaob's eastern coast, and an hour's journey from downtown Koror. On that night, as well as all of the nights since, the buildings sat empty, for the construction is still in progress. The seat of government in Palau will remain in downtown Koror until a yet-to-be-determined date in 2006.

The existing government buildings are at best utilitarian and undistinguished, at worst ramshackle, a patchwork agglomeration of concrete block buildings with numerous uncoordinated additions. It is the rare government building that is roofed in anything but rusting corrugated tin. Even the President's complex is an unimpressive collection of bai styled buildings set amid what looks like a squatter settlement of plywood and tin houses. As is true everywhere else, gaunt dogs roam freely throughout the grounds. All taken, it leaves the impression that the people don't particularly respect or esteem the people they've chosen to govern them.

Ten years ago, as part of the new constitution, it was decided that a new Capitol would be built. Through some political wrangling that I'm still not sure I fully comprehend, it was decided that the site would be in remote Melekeok rather than in Koror. At that time, Melekeok was hours away by car; the work on the compact road has cut that time considerably since, and once the road up the east side of the island is complete the journey may only take 20 minutes or so.

But the plan is not to create a nation of commuters. The hope of the powers that be is that the compact road and capital relocation will encourage the people living in crowded Koror to return to their family lands in Babeldaob. Already, incomplete though it may be, the compact road has made travel to the farthest end of the island less of an adventure and more of an inconvenience. Once the roads are actually paved, even the inconvenience will be gone.

Ric Mangham, the director of Palau's Capital Improvement Project (note the "a" in capital - he is responsible for all of the physical capital in Palau, including but not limited to the Capitol), offered sis-in-law Kelly and I the chance to tour the buildings. Having only seen the Capitol in the dark, I was thrilled to get the chance to tour the complex in daylight. Loaded in his 4-wheel-drive truck, the trip was relatively short and comfortable. We traveled up the west side of the island (the east side being closed as preparations for paving got underway), crossed to the east on 4wd road, and sailed north on asphalt (!) to the Capitol on the first section of compact road to be paved.

Everything I believed the Capitol to be turned out to be true by the light of the sun. The complex consists of four buildings, one each for the legislative, executive, and judicial branches of government, plus a smaller building to house the President and his staff. The buildings (as is true of most buildings here) are built of concrete, covered by a skin of lightweight fiberglass/cement cladding festooned with Palauan art. The architecture is indeed Roman, creating an odd juxtaposition of classic design and primitive island art.

We walked the grounds, surveying the buildings from the outside. Along the way, we stopped in two exterior porticoes, open to the air on their sides, dome-shaped roofs supported by columns. Just as the parabolic shape of a satellite dish takes weak radio waves and focuses them into a strong signal at the dish's center, the hemispherical roofs of the porticoes amplified the slightest whisper into a yell. I played in the center of the domes for longer than any self-respecting adult should have, yelling "hello" and listening with childish glee as the echo reverberated over and over again, bouncing from floor to ceiling and back to floor again. Twenty-two seconds, by the way - that's how long it took before I could no longer hear my own voice.

Guided by the construction supervisor, Ben, we toured the buildings' interiors, starting in the circular President's building and finishing in the Judiciary building. Still mostly unfinished on the inside, it mostly looks like exactly what it is--empty concrete building. Here and there, though, are nice touches that signify what the building will someday become. Many of the offices have semi-circular floor-to-ceiling windows, for example. There is some outstanding tilework, and two imported circular staircases that are very impressive.

Inside, also, are indications of how tough it is to get things done properly in a small developing nation in the tropics. The buildings were stifling, constructed with windows that couldn't be opened in order to conserve conditioned air. But the buildings were not yet air conditioned because the power company had yet to install a power supply with enough capacity and reliability to prevent damaging blackouts. The interior heat, coupled with Palau's 90-odd percent humidity, had caused the linoleum to lift in the executive building (the other buildings had ceramic tile that was in fine shape) and had cause mold to grow on many of the wooden doors. It's a shame that even before it opens, many things will have to be torn out and redone.

Ben took us up a dark staircase by flashlight, and we emerged onto the walkway surrounding the legislature's rotunda. Emerging into strong sunlight, we began to fully appreciate the magnificent setting. To the south lay a broad valley, open savannah with hills and jungle beyond. To the north lay the coast, a bright white line of surf marking the edge of the fringing reef. Geographically, this is a spectacular site, much more so than the swamp that was once Washington D.C. The Palauans have chosen well.

It's a distinguished complex, sometimes impractical but always impressive. It cost a lot of money ($50 million for the whole works, about as much as the Palauan government spends each year) but it's an investment in the confidence of its own people and the confidence of outsiders, especially foreign investors who want assurance that the government is strong and stable and permanent. Whatever the complaint about the design (though frankly, I think it's quirky and charming and I like it), the underlying reasons for its construction are sound. It's a big, positive step for a nation barely a decade old.

Posted by alnemgrant at 06:43 PM | Comments (0)