Stanford
As a kid, I was fascinated by Pokémon Go. Walking around town with my grandfather, both of us glued to his phone, I was amazed to see the virtual world intertwined with the physical one. That simple app ignited my fascination with maps, satellites, and how we interact with the world around us. Before I knew it, I was diving into different kinds of maps—from Mercator's designs for navigation to the grid system of what3words.
A few years later, in northern Tanzania, I faced the daunting task of mapping remote Maasai dwellings to determine where rainwater harvesting units were most needed. As I hiked through rugged terrains, it struck me: satellites orbiting above could access places I couldn’t reach on foot. Using high-resolution satellite imagery and computer vision, I pinpointed optimal locations for rainwater harvesting, bringing clean water to over 10,000 people. Every day, satellites capture terabytes of data, from the temperature of our oceans to the smog level over cities—yet entire communities on Earth remain hidden. What if the key to solving water scarcity, climate change, and sustainability lies not beneath our feet, but hundreds of miles above us?
This curiosity isn’t new. Humanity has always been driven to see the world from above. Cartography, once an ancient art carved into stone, became a revolutionary tool during the Age of Exploration. Today, Earth observation has evolved into a high-tech frontier, allowing us to track icebergs to protect ships or analyze urban sprawl to predict economic trends—things unimaginable just a few years ago. In my senior thesis, I am identifying locations for large reservoirs in Tanzania by analyzing topography, floodwater runoff zones, and the Maasai’s living locations. I’m excited to explore how satellite data could predict agricultural output by monitoring vegetation, rainfall, and temperature patterns.
Every time I delve into new satellite data, I feel that same thrill of discovery. It’s not just about the images; it’s about uncovering stories hidden within pixels and using them to make a tangible difference. For me, the sky isn’t the limit—it’s the starting point.
As a kid, I was fascinated by Pokémon Go. Walking with my grandfather, glued to his phone, seeing physical and virtual worlds intertwined. At first, it was all about how satellites could map my neighborhood and layer digital characters onto real streets.Before I knew it, I was diving into different kinds of maps—exploring how satellites capture terabytes of data daily.
Humanity has always been curious about how the world looks from above. From ancient cartography carved into stone to the scientific maps that revolutionized exploration, our desire to understand the world has driven innovation. I explored map projections, from Mercator’s designs to what3words’ grid system. I realized satellites orbiting at 18,000 miles an hour do more than provide GPS—they track hurricanes, monitor forests, and detect underground resources.Earth observation technology has been evolving since the dawn of humanity, yet despite all our progress, few are pausing to harness its full potential.
A few years later, in northern Tanzania with the Maasai tribe, I worked to determine where to place rainwater solutions. I started out manually mapping remote villages, often hiking for hours when roads disappeared. My car toppled into a ditch enroute to one of the locations when it hit me—I could use satellites to reach the inner depths of the areas I couldn’t travel to. After consulting experts and studying open-source datasets, I created an accurate heatmap of living locations. It didn’t matter whether I used hyperspectral or infrared data; what mattered was addressing a real need, bringing water to over 10,000 people. The Maasai leader’s eyes lit up when he saw a satellite image dotted with 488 dwellings spread across 250 square miles. “I have never seen a map of my community,” he said. This year, 100 rainwater units are being deployed on those tiny black dots.
Sharing my work at conferences, I’ve seen how high-resolution imagery and advanced computation transform earth observation. Today, we can predict drifting icebergs to protect ships or analyze urban activity to measure economic shifts—unimaginable just five years ago. Looking forward, technologies like high-resolution video from the ISS can track individual vehicles or even individual waves on the beach. I aim to harness the petabytes of data being collected to better understand our planet and serve its people.
Just as Pokémon Go opened my eyes to a world where the digital and physical coexist, I hope to continue blending technology and reality to solve real-world problems.
As a kid, I was fascinated by Pokémon Go. Walking around town with my grandfather, both of us glued to his phone, I was amazed to see physical and virtual worlds intertwined. At first, it was all about how satellites could map my neighborhood and layer digital characters onto real streets. Before I knew it, I was diving into different kinds of maps—exploring how satellites capture terabytes of data daily.
Humanity has always been curious about how the world looks from above. Once an art form carved into stone, cartography evolved into a scientific tool that revolutionized the unexplored world in the 1500s. I pored over map projections, from Mercator’s designs to the grid-based system of what3words. As I spent time in Road Scholars competitions (I won none), I realized these behemoths orbiting at 18,000 miles an hour do a lot more—tracking hurricanes like Irene, monitoring forest coverage, and even detecting underground water and mineral resources. Earth observation technology has been evolving since the dawn of humanity, from maps to satellites, yet despite all our progress, few are pausing to harness its full potential.
A few years later, I found myself in northern Tanzania, working with the Maasai tribe to assess where to place rainwater solutions. One day, when our car toppled into a ditch en route to one of the locations, it hit me—why not use satellite data to map the terrain and dwellings? I evaluated two different open-source satellite datasets, talked to an expert in satellite imaging, took summer classes at UC campuses, read any papers I could find (and understand), and finally created an accurate heatmap of living locations. The Maasai leader’s eyes lit up when he saw the satellite image dotted with 488 black dots representing dwellings spread across 250 square miles. “I have never seen a map of my community,” he said. I started out manually mapping remote villages, often hiking for hours when roads disappeared. This year, 100 rainwater units are being deployed on those tiny black dots. It didn’t matter whether I used hyperspectral, infrared, or whether the data came from satellites, sensors, or both. What mattered was that it addressed a real need, bringing water to over 10,000 people.
Sharing my work at conferences, I’ve learned how high-resolution imagery and advanced computation transform earth observation. Today, we can predict the path of a drifting iceberg to protect ships or measure economic shifts by analyzing urban activity—things that would have been unimaginable just five years ago. Looking forward, I can’t wait for technology like the UrtheCast high-resolution video camera being tested on the ISS, which can track individual vehicles or even individual waves on the beach. I want to harness the petabytes of data being collected and turn it into actionable resources for bringing about a new understanding of our planet and better serving the people on it.
Just as Pokémon Go opened my eyes to a world where the digital and physical coexist, I hope to continue blending technology and reality to solve real-world problems. After all, if a game can inspire a global community to explore their neighborhoods, imagine what we can achieve when we set our sights on the world beyond.
As a kid, I was fascinated by Pokémon Go. Walking around town with my grandfather, glued to his phone, seeing physical and virtual worlds intertwined. Before I knew it, I was diving into different kinds of maps—exploring how satellites capture terabytes of data daily.
Humanity has always been curious about how the world looks from above. Once an art form carved into stone, cartography evolved into a scientific tool that revolutionized the unexplored world in the 1500s. I poured over map projections, from Mercator’s designs to the grid-based system of what3words. Earth observation technology has been evolving since the dawn of humanity, from maps to satellites, yet despite all our progress, few are pausing to harness its full potential.
A few years later, I was hiking remote terrains to map dwellings in northern Tanzania. It was a grueling ordeal, and that’s when it hit me—why not use satellite data? I used high-resolution imagery to map remote dwellings and pinpoint where reservoirs were needed. It didn’t matter whether I used hyperspectral, infrared, or SAR imagery or whether the data came from satellites, sensors, or both. What mattered was that it addressed a real need, bringing water to over 10,000 people.
Sharing my work at conferences, I’ve learned how high-resolution imagery and advanced computation transform earth observation. We can predict the path of a drifting iceberg to protect ships or even measure economic shifts by analyzing urban activity—things that would have been unimaginable just five years ago.
UPDATED VERSION A: 10/14 10: 30pm
Humanity has always been curious about how the world looks from above. The Maasai leader’s eyes lit up, “I have never seen a map of my community”. He was seeing 488 black dots on a satellite image spread across 250 sq. miles. I had used high-resolution imagery to map remote dwellings and pinpoint where reservoirs were needed. It didn’t matter whether I used hyperspectral, infrared, or whether the data came from satellites, sensors, or both. What mattered was that it was going to address a real need, bringing water to over 10,000 people.
As a kid, I was fascinated by Pokémon Go. Walking with my grandfather, glued to his phone, seeing physical and virtual worlds intertwined. At first, it was all about how satellites could map my neighborhood and layer digital characters onto real streets. As I spent time in Road Scholars competitions (I won none), I realized these orbiting machines do a lot more—tracking hurricane “Irene”, forest coverage, and monitor oceans.
Fast-forward a few years, and I found myself in Northern Tanzania, working with the Maasai tribe to assess where to place the rainwater solutions as the tribe was spread over 500 sq miles. I started out manually mapping remote villages, often hiking for hours when roads disappeared. One day, my car even toppled into a ditch enroute to one of the locations. That’s when it hit me—why rely on guesswork when I could use satellites to map the terrain and dwelling. I evaluated two open-source satellite data, talked to an expert in satellite imaging, read a few papers, and using available tools from Google and created a heatmap of living locations. This year, 100 rainwater units are being deployed by Dec 2024.
Today, high-resolution imagery and advanced computation can predict the path of a drifting iceberg to protect ships or measure economic shifts by analyzing urban activity—things that would have been unimaginable just five years ago. I believe we can help underserved communities like the Maasai predict the direction of flood saving lives, or forecasting expected food famine based on monitoring vegetation, rainfall, and temperature patterns?
UPDATED VERSION B: 10/14 10: 30pm
Humanity has always been curious about how the world looks from above. The Maasai leader’s eyes lit up, “I have never seen a map of my community”. He was seeing 488 black dots on a satellite image spread across 250 sq. miles. I had used high-resolution imagery to map remote dwellings and pinpoint where reservoirs were needed. It didn’t matter whether the data came from satellites or sensors; it was immaterial how I had trained a model to locate these coordinates. What mattered was that it was going to address a real need, bringing water to over 10,000 people.
As a kid, I was fascinated by Pokémon Go. Walking with my grandfather, glued to his phone, seeing physical and virtual worlds intertwined, I was awestruck at how satellites could map my neighborhood and layer digital characters onto it. As I spent time in Road Scholars competitions, I realized these behemoths orbiting at 18,000 miles an hour, do a lot more than provide GPS locations and communications. Today satellites are instrumental in climate and weather forecasting and can even detect underground water and mineral resources.
Fast-forward a few years, and I found myself in Northern Tanzania, working with the Maasai tribe to assess where to place the rainwater solutions. I started out manually mapping remote villages, often hiking for hours. One day, when our car, traversing the unexpected terrain, toppled into a ditch enroute to one of the locations, it hit me—I could use satellites to reach the inner depths of the areas I couldn’t travel to. I evaluated two different open-source satellite datasets, talked to an expert in satellite imaging, took summer classes at UCs, read any papers that I could find online (and understand), and finally created an accurate heatmap of living locations (after several failed attempts). This year, 100 rainwater units are being deployed on those tiny black dots.
Today, high-resolution imagery and advanced computation can predict the path of a drifting iceberg to protect ships or measure economic shifts by analyzing urban activity—things that would have been unimaginable just five years ago. Looking forward, I can’t wait for technology like the UrtheCast high resolution video camera being tested on the ISS, that can track individual vehicles to individual waves on the beach. I want to be able to harness the petabytes of data being collected and turn it into actionable resources for bringing about a new understanding of our planet and better serving the people on it. (anyway to tie it back to pokemon)