Consumption

In a moment of self-assured eco-ego, I took the ecological footprint quiz that is featured at http://www.earthday.net/footprint/. I did the quiz twice, once based on how I live here in Belize and again based on my lifestyle that I was living in Seattle before I came to Belize. The way the quiz works is that you answer questions on how you shop, how you travel, and what you eat. Based on those answers, the quiz determines how many planet earths would be needed if everyone in the world were to live exactly as you do. It was obvious that my life in Seattle would have more of an impact, a footprint, on the earth than my one here in Belize, but I thought that the comparison would be interesting. After all, I don’t even have indoor plumbing, a car, or access to a shopping mall. I use 1 fluorescent light bulb for about 3 hours in the evening, I use about 8 gallons of water for all my drinking, washing, bathing, and I walk, hitchhike, or take a crowded bus when I need to travel. I am the picture of a sustainable lifestyle, I humbly thought while taking the quiz for the second time.

Apparently it is possible, and therefore necessary. Turns out that if everyone in the world were to live as an extravagantly as I do here in the jungles of Belize, we would need 2.3 earths. Living in Seattle, it goes up just a little to 3.1 earths.  Not a comforting thought when you think about the millions and billions of people around the world, including people here in my own village, who are doing everything in their power to catch up to the consumption habits of people in the United States and their only slightly less consumption driven counterparts in Europe. The biggest mark against me in both my Seattle and Belize eco-footprints was my use of air travel. My habit of traveling half-way around the world on a biannual basis is not at all good for planet earth. Add to that the problem of garbage disposal, where my choices include burning it, burying, or carrying it to the district town where it is then collected, burned or buried. Burning it releases all sorts of toxins and carbon dioxide into the air and burying it has the potential of leaking the same bad things into the ground surface waters. My heart sank at the impossibility of this task that humanity has in front of it, namely saving our home.

So what can I do? What can we all do? Short of doing away with indoor plumbing, forgoing all traveling or joining the Peace Corps for a couple of years, there are some things we can do. Money is a powerful thing, so use it for good. Buy food that is local, organic, or both. Invest in and shop at companies that are supportive of green building and transportation initiatives (build their HQ’s up to LEED standards and give their employees bus passes). Instead of taking 2 one week trips a year, take a two-week vacation, you’ll enjoy it more anyways.  Ride a bike or walk every once in awhile, you know you need to anyways. And support local and national leaders that are committed to taking climate change seriously.  I don’t like to preach, but this was an awakening, realizing that even living the way I do right now, there are still things that I can do better.

A Perfect Sunday

Danny and Jeff performing in Aguacate

Maybe I wont come back to the USA. Maybe I’ll just stay here in Belize for awhile more, putting off the stress and fast-paced lifestyle that I left behind some 20 months ago.

Probably not, but a day like this past Sunday makes thoughts like that one seem almost possible. Perfect days of relaxation, friends, warm sun, and sudden rain storms. Laying in a hammock under a thatch roof, eating a freshly baked cookie while two of my friends attempt a guitar duo, I look past the wide porch onto the green hills of a neighboring village. I figured I had earned a cookie after riding my rickety pink bike 4 miles from my home just to say hello to another Peace Corps Volunteer. My stomach was still full from the heavy bowl of spicy pork and corn dumplings that I had enjoyed at a wedding. The wedding was dying down and it not quite noon, so a bike ride on an overcast day provided a plan for the remainder of the afternoon.

In Aguacate after 35 minutes of easy peddling, Danny was surprised to see the Blue Creek volunteers lounging on his porch when he arrived back from making a call at the village phone. He canceled his spear-fishing plans to play some guitar and share the news of his village and hear the news that we brought with us. A carpenter by trade, Danny had spent his first months in his village constructing one of the most beautiful thatch houses I have ever seen. Varnished wood floors, built-in shelves, and double french doors that open on to a wide porch make for a pleasant retreat from my own small dorm. Before the guys started in on their guitars, we put together some oatmeal cookie mix, adding peanut butter for a special treat. I took up residence in the hammock while the guys perched on the steps, moving between acoustic renditions of Bon Jovi and Sublime, stopping only for another cookie. Before long I had dozed off and a rain-storm had moved into the valley. Rain came down in sheets and the guys had to move the jam session indoors, interrupting my nap. I forgave them and had another cookie.

The rain didn’t last long, and soon it was time for the Blue Creek contingent to return to their own village, leaving Aguacate, Danny, and his beautiful home behind. The road had become muddy in the rain, but that didn’t matter too much since I had a warm shower and clean clothes awaiting me. On the ride back the conversation floated between religion, politics, and the things we can’t wait for when we get done. But all of that is too distant to make a real impact on the day, leaving only a lingering impression of what awaits us back in our respective home states. Sunday had almost come to an end and as I washed the mud off in my outdoor shower I was overcome with a tinge of regret and sadness, that days like the one I had just lived were numbered and few. While I will surely enjoy my Sunday routine of the paper, coffee, and friends back home, a day of wedding feasts, jungle bike rides, and downpours under a thatch roof are something that can not be duplicated and must be cherished.

Elections

Blue Creek is getting an influx of visitors this week thanks National Elections in Belize. While the USA is wrapped up in the chaos and speculation of Super Tuesday, Belize is gearing up for Decision 2008 of their own, taking place this upcoming Thursday. The Southern part of the country is less politically divided than the north, with the villages being a safe haven away from any election day tensions.  As a Parliamentary system, no less than 5 political parties are vying for the votes of Belizeans across the country, hiring buses to bring people out of the villages to rallies and events. Political ads consume the air waves and red, blue, orange, and green signs indicate a village or household's loyalty. So far things have been mild and from what I hear elections here are peaceful if not entirely free of corruption. I am excited to see the Democratic process in action in a part of the country where less than half the adult population can read or write, but actively debate the advantages and disadvantages of the various candidates.  I am not sure what will change if a new party is elected to lead, but as long as people are actively involved in their government in a free and fair election, progress is being made.