Tirar De Basura Parta Treis

I moved some garbage around. 8 hours with a wheel barrow, rake, shovel and thick gloves from a labour standpoint, overcoming a fear of homeless people, and dogs, snakes and needles from an emotional. In the heart of the most dangerous, run-down and sad part of downtown San Jose, it seemed ridiculous to venture out into an empty lot and clean up garbage. From our 5th floor fire exit, it excited me to be able to make a change, imagining a green area full of life instead of plastic, & rubber. It was to be a internal journey in and of itself, and I was not prepared for the rollercoaster of thoughts that beset me throughout.

Without firm statistics, I can only guess that an average Costa Rican creates much less garbage than a North American in one year. I also believe that there are only a few Latin Americans that throw their garbage on the streets: whether they're poor, or just careless. The only difference is that in some areas, their garbage is visible, and ours is not as much. The problem still exists in both countries - what to do, and should we even care, for care's sake?

Well, I couldn't expect anything to change if I was part of the problem. I've had so many cravings for Taco Bell, I think from the advertising, but there's just too much packaging in one meal. My money can help a small restaurant much more than funneling it back to Headquarters in California, or Kentucky. You wouldn't believe the lineups here for KFC, Taco Bell and McDonalds, and they're not cheap. People just aren't eating at home as much anymore.

A Mother's Love

I returned from a dinner and drinks with a waitress I had met at a restaurant last night and it was an enlightening, but depressing conversation. Cecilia moved from Nicaragua to Costa Rica 16 years ago for a better life for her and her mom and sister; 4 other kids and father stayed there. Her father put her mother's hands on the stove to teach her a lesson on how to make tortillas. Cecilia's own husband resorted to physical violence too; it's the Nico way representative of Ortega, so she says. At 30, she's worked for 17 years straight without seeing anything outside of San Jose. She lives for her kids: she only wants to make them happy. She wants to give them nice clothes, nice shoes, a nice house; what mother doesn't? I'm not sure she believed me when I told her I didn't think Canadians were much happier........ of course it's not my right to speak for 30 million others, but my thoughts were that no matter what you have, it's the human condition to want more.

I paid for the meal, and drinks for both of us, about $22. I gave our server $40, and when the change returned, I gave it all to Cecilia, and told her it was for her kids. How did she respond? "Peexza". Not hot dogs and potatoes even. "Peexza". Why the hell would she be so happy to give her kids "Peexza"?

I'm just disgusted right now I'm full of anger at the state of advertising, the state of our stinky world that's created this world where if you want to sell something, you can. It really doesn't matter what the impact is on families, you can sell it, because you know, people will want it. If you just have to pay some money, and POP! your food comes out without the least bit of effort, it doesn't matter that you had to work 3 weeks to afford that 'peexza', you, and your kids are going to want it. Because it tastes good.

A large percentage of the money we spend on our products in the grocery store goes to advertising, not to mention bloated corporate salaries. This is not something you will see on Dateline NBC, because 100% of their income comes from advertising! First, if it is our money that's being spent on products, it should be our decision how the advertising goes. Advertising's sole purpose is to get people to buy their products.

Food in Costa Rica is expensive. Cecilia makes $80/week: $100/month for rent + 50 or so for utilities. Doesn't leave much for food........... food that is being charged at a rate to include advertising.

Does anyone really give a shit that some waitress in San Jose only wants to buy her kids a pizza that's going to burn the entire $20 some idiot Canadian gave her in hopes of making her kid's life better? Does it help ease the pain if we have stocks in these companies, these companies that solely want to entice a new generation of buyers?

Who cares if they're obese? Who cares if they can't wait for their next fix of Taco Bell, where they simply have to have the money (money possibly stolen from some tourist) to get it, and then throw their plastic, and paper packaging into the garbage?

EVERYTHING is connected. There is no simple answer, except to stop want, stop greed.

Garbage Part 2

Successfully seconded a wheelbarrow, shovel, rake, and gloves from the hotel to attack the fenced in area behind the area and the garbage that's been there for a while. They called back while I was gone to say they changed their minds and would have a company do it (they thought I was cleaning their property, but it's actually aways from it) Turns out it's a pile of garbage that's grown over, and I think i destroyed someone's home, if you call an Imperial Beer patio umbrella and a Xmas tree on it's side a home. I'm sure it wasn't, but I saw a guy over there rooting around. Of course I'm intruding, I'm putting my nose where it shouldn't be, but who the hell is really going to stop me cleaning up garbage? I've befriended the dogs that live there, and they know I'm alpha. The mechanic across the street knew me from a couple days ago when I took my special Coleman accesorized cooler in to be bolted on to my bike rack, and he came through the fence and up the hill just to say hi and tell me about the bike rally on Sunday in Savanna Park.

Overall, it's good timing as the dry season is coming soon, and with the cardboard, wood, plastic bags, automotive parts, and everything in between up off the ground, the beautiful pink flowers growing in spots will have a better chance to grow further. A small, insignificant act that gave me some exercise and made a quick and noticeable change. I'll be back there tomorrow.

The Garbage Cullture

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KaPNwp6EGgw

It's someone else's problem: throw it out the window, or out the door, and someone else will take care of it. Right behind our hotel, Best Western San Jose, is a backyard full of garbage. People drive by it by the thousands every day, and yet it is still there. Missing out the 'don't litter' campaign of the '70's, people down here rate garbage somewhere between dog neutering and sidewalk repair. It's just not a priority. So, who cares? Well, first, in our area here, it has to effect the people staying in the hotel on the north side, who have to stare out at it everyday but what about the residents? What if that area could be turned into a beautiful grassy area for a couple goats to graze on? Instead of a garbage filled mess, someone could be feeding their animals...... perhaps a small dent, but someone could be benefitting.

La Finca

"Why would you want to come all that way to see us? It's not that special!" Dee exclaimed. I assured Dee, a down-to-earth British citizen I had met in the restaurant of our hotel it would be worth it for me. Somehow she gave me a vision of a couple fighting against the odds in the Costa Rican wilderness, comitted to sustainability and self-sufficiency. I had no clue exactly where in the country her finca, (spanish for 'farm') was, but I was determined that night I would get there by Saturday. As I made my way through the rainy, cold mountains of Arenal Volcano on a 2 hour detour, I began to regret my decision.

Already one day after promised, I looked at the 2x3 card with the instructions on how to get to her place. "Hojancha to La Libertad Guanacaste 1 km de la escuelita 2 wooden gates Ray". 14 words were all I had to go on. Arriving safely in Hojancha, Guanacaste, I stop at a roadside restaurant, tempted by the ad for BBQ chicken. The waitress confirms that La Libertad does indeed exist, and is close. I confirm this with a fellow that spoke perfect English: it's about 3 miles away. He cleared up for me that La Libertad was just a store with a couple houses around it; like a village of sorts. As I suspected, I hit a dirt road going straight through the town, watching carefully for the school, or escuilita, Dee referred to, assuming the 2 wooden gates, and the entrance to the farm, would be just another 2 km away. Driving around a bend about 3 km later than desired, I flag down a couple bikers going the opposite direction; the first guy waves back and keeps going, the 2nd doesn't even acknowledge my attempt. The first guy ends up turning around and stops to help me.

I explain what I'm looking for, and he motions back the way I came. I turn around, thinking I was on my own, ignoring him turn left about a 100 m back on the road, and, thinking twice, turn back again to follow him. By this time, he had noticed I wasn't following him, and returned to fetch me. Turns out he was going to show me the way. Meanwhile another fellow was following me and almost hit me as I stop suddenly to talk to him. Now I've got two guys helping me, and I explain again the limited directions I had. The first guy is now sure he knows where I'm going, and I follow. Down the road and to the left, another km and we are stopped at some gates, which were not wooden, but he was sure it was the place. He explained to me who he was and his job, but I wasn't exactly sure but I think he was an insurance salesman, and was explaining himself to me in hopes I would put in a plug with the finca owners I was about to meet.

I hastily bid farewell and headed up the road, which degraded quickly into a washed out area quite difficult to maneuver; one false move on the bike and I'd be in the ditch, or at least the deep gullies saved only by the high spots. A house comes up on the right, and a local is sitting on the front porch. I tell them I'm friends with Dee Ray and he shakes his head in acknowledgement and lets me through another gate. I'm now faced with a steep hill at about a 45 degree pitch, the steepest I had ever tried on my cruiser. Slowly, and surely I climb, up and around a long bend, only to be met with another gate, but this time, heavy but with a single pneumatic wheel to assist. There's a large bolt I figure needs to be removed before I can attempt to move the gate. Down another road, and i come upon a large spread, with a couple houses, both magnificent in their own right, and a covered area with two Range Rovers.

The house is dark, and I stop to have a look around on the verandah to catch my breath and wonder how the hell I was going to get back down that hill. I wasn't ready to give up quite yet, so I rapped loudly on the two wooden entrance doors, and waited for an answer. Nothing. I try again. Still nothing. I take out my camera in hopes of at least getting some photos of the place I had so valiantly achieved in finding when a tall, bald fellow opens the door with a quizzical look. I explain to him I was a journalist and had met Dee at the Best Western, and he starts to soften. "What was your first name again?" I ask him sheepishly. "Ray", he replies with a why-don't-you-know-that look, and I defend, saying "Oh, geez I'm sorry I thought Ray was your last name." Note to self: ease up on the rum and coke when you're writing down crucial information about people, or at least write down more details. I decline his offer to come in for a drink, and he decides to fetch Dee, who is down with the horses. I tell him I'll wait and have a much needed cigarette.

I quickly surmise Ray is not one for idle chit chat, as he quickly jumps on his Yamaha ATV, burns out of the yard, and returns before I finish my cigarette, with Dee and her black rubber boots sitting behind him. Now recovered from the shock of seeing me, Dee tells me she left a message on my hotel phone saying "if you really intend on coming you should really get better directions." Turns out it was that same message that Eddy had tried to retrieve 3 days earlier; I thought it was an error and foolishly ignored his pleas for help with the phone technology.

"Would you like to join Ray on a tour of the fina?" Dee asked. "Would I? That would be great!" I reply enthusiastically. She looks at my black cowboy boots and says "It can be a bit treacherous walking, would you like some other shoes?" she asks. "I'll be fine," I say, wondering if my independence was ill-advised. It turned out to be the least of my worries, as holding onto the back of the trike as Ray flew up and down the rocky roads became a test of arm strength. I felt awkward grabbing onto the waist of a grown man I had only known for 5 minutes, and chose instead to tenuously hold onto the back rails. We stop on the top of the bluff, and Ray tells me a bit about his cattle, and teak operation. Here's a clip of him:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVZgsQH3IBE

Ray caught on to the natural filtration system for the abundant water on his farm, and tapped into it. Through a series of pipes and tanks, he is able to not only store water for the farm's use, but for him and Dee and their five workers. The only maintenance required is a twice-a-year cleanout of the tanks; eschewing the modern-day addiction to chlorine and water treatment, the Davey's haven't had a problem in 5 years. Storing the water in the rainy season, they are able to have drinking water year-round without any form of outside water supply.

This doesn't take anything away from the forest of teak he has planted, which has a miraculous ability to regenerate, and grow quickly. Originally he would arrange to ship the teak himself, but after too many headaches, chose to sell them FOB his door. After only 6 months, these trees can grow over 10 feet after being cut to the ground. There are other uses for trees in the local area. You can see 'live fences' of trees, strewn with wire, that were once branches pruned from their mothers, growing tall and strong after a 48 hour 'dry-out' period, and a simple push into the soil.

Their cattlemen use horses to check on the cows 3 times a week, and move them from pasture to pasture to avoid over-grazing. Each of their workers, including a maid, are able to buy into the herd with the money they earn from their work. As Ray mentioned, their money can double or triple in just a year and a half. They've taken to buying quarters, and halves of cows separately, as a cow fully owned that is bitten by a snake could represent a 100% loss in investment should it die. It has also forced the workers to care much more about the health, and safety of the cows, due to their vested interest. With an unemployment rate around 50%, these 5 seem gracious for the opportunities given to them. As Ray and Dee don't care as much about making heaps of money, they have room in their lives to make heaps of difference for others.

We sat down for a nice pasta dinner, and talked about their experience of Zimbabwe from '93 to '00, and got out just before Mugabe went crazy. They wanted a place that was hot, and their sights led them to Costa Rica. There are many problems in this country, but the Davey's are doing their part to make it just a bit better.

hey mom

I found the tree you wanted me to find - 3 months early. Not in Brazil, and not ripe either. Fruit growing directly off the tree, like little boils.

Earthquake

I missed Los Mochis/ La Paz's earthquake by about 3 weeks.

http://www.cnn.com/2010/WORLD/americas/10/21/mexico.earthquake/?hpt=Sbin

Tirar de Basura

Mexico City's garbage dump is a private affair, surrounded by fences and unaccessible by the public. Future plans will be to continue the landfill until some point deemed necessary, cover the garbage, and begin development. As space here is so scarce, even the garbage dumps need to be reclaimed, and one of the city's most prominent, and wealthy areas has already gone through the process of garbage dump, to reclamation, to habitation. Monica's eyes teared up not from her sadness at saying goodbye, but were burning just from being over a km away.

The Zoo

Zoologico de Puerto Vallarta: right from the first night in our hotel room, we spotted the sign, neatly affixed to the bottom of the rare street signs here in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Positive comments trickled in during the week about one of the many ways to spend one's time, and money here. As my girlfriend and I both had a penchant for wildlife, and our place within nature, it seemed a natural fit. My expectations involved some childhood memories of the Calgary Zoo, with animals behind cages, and us walking methodically past one exhibit to another, and the Vancouver Aquarium beseeched with protestors rallying for the release of Orca Whales 10 years ago. The lack of enlightening motivation may have been the main reason it took us a few days to actually get there.

Our journey began innocently enough. I feel it necessary at this point though to also mention that the roads in PV have been intentionally designed, and built, as if it were a turn of the last century pueblo, substituting black pavement with rocks and concrete. Millions upon millions of rocks turned on a side to reveal a maximum amount of surface area, with concrete to fill in the rest. They did provide the courtesy of two rows of rocks anchored in single file, supposedly for car tires to follow. For motorcyclists, this makes for some interesting driving around town and a definite need for constant attention.

Rocky roads transform into smooth highway, if only for a brief moment. The 10 km ride from Old Puerto Vallarta out to the curvy, pot-hole ridden highway betrays its seemingly short distance. Each 'hoyo', or hole at times inherits it's secondary spanish translation: pit. The motorcycle would have been destroyed, or at least suffered serious blows had it been haphazardly directed through these pitfalls, but fortunately bike, and two riders made it to the zoo on time. Our arrival is met with an eventual request to move the motorcycle further away from the entrance gate, and a male worker, obviously forced to work admissions for the afternoon, and a bit confused as to his duties, no doubt panicking while faced with a couple Whiteys from Canada.

Things seemed like any other zoo I'd been to, but only for a moment. Bonnie was greeted with a victim of a brush-in with the toilet bowl, and summoned the courage to take an innappropriate photo opportunity with it's corpse. Bugs down here are slightly larger than the ones back home.

We are suddenly ushered into a world of immediate connection with animals of our dreams, and whisk away the pragmatic thoughts that this is simply a zoo from our childhood, a time bereft of lawyers, animal welfare, bacteria and 21st century rules. Instead, we get all of our pre-pubescent desires aptly met without all the parental supervision that may have come with it in an earlier day. A zoo worker finger-waves at us linguistically in Spanish and proceeds to tell us in English how to feed the ostriches. Each guest is provided the option to purchase a bag of food full of instructions on which type of food to feed which type of animal. Carrots, peanuts, corn, pellets, and cookies (bread) are all included on the side of the bag, but each animal we encounter seems to fall outside of the statute of limitations firmly set out on the bag. We worry about our behaviour until finally we elect to simply feed the animals whatever food they like. Horribly irresponsible, and totally fun. I overrreact. It's the group of 3 Mexican women that taunt the animals behind the cages and gets them all riled up that is horribly irresponsible. But, I guess it is all a measure of degrees. Somehow, the trust we created between ourselves, and the animals, worked out fine. I love animals, and as one, value our ability to be the patrons of every other living thing on the planet.

The question is: do zoos help, or hinder this ability?

The Zoologico de Puerto Vallarta currently sits on 5 hectares of land lush with vegetation growing up from the deep ravines. It was started 12 years ago by Martin Castaneda in memorial to his mother, who loved animals. It soon became an obsession, and to keep the operations going, he was forced to sell off his successful American businesses. Plans include expanding the zoo to encompass all 62 hectares of land owned by the Castaneda family by the year 2018. I envisioned a park without fences with animals free to roam of their own volition; time will tell if this is merely a dream.

A definite criticism of the place is the inability for the larger animals such as the giraffe and leopard to get their much needed muscles moving and exercise in the open. The custodian of the park mentions to us that the incessant pacing back and forth of the large cats are its attempts at just that: in a smaller enclosure the animals seem to adjust, and get their needs met regardless. The park has a reputation as a successful breeder of endangered animals, as well as saving others from mistreatments in a circus, as one example. We were told of a hippo purchased for $5000 only after the zoo's custodian incessantly begged the circus owner to give him up. As a 100% privately owned enterprise without any government assistance, their growth centres around the health and protection of the animals, and expanding as the money comes in. The operation has been in the red for all but 2 years in it's history.

As a means for the operators to assist their operating costs, visitors can treat themselves to a once-in-a-lifetime experience: to hold a baby jaguar. Depending on which animals are deemed suitable for this interaction at the time of your arrival, you may be treated to a one-on-one moment with a baby lion, tiger, jaguar, lemur and monkey. A tricky dilemma arises, and one that pits business against nature, human emotions against animal needs.

I believe it is crucial for every generation to have the opportunity for close contact with other animals. It is a healthy interaction that, if monitored, can lead to respect, a sense of connection, and patronage. I don't think the argument is about zoos or no zoos. I think the argument is about preservation, and maintenance of the natural world. If zoos are assisting in that goal, then so be it. There are obvious detractors, but as long as the animals welfare is being considered, and the operators are in tune with their needs, I see no problem with them. Zoos cannot bear the brunt of all ill will towards human's relationship to nature. We must look at them as one piece of the puzzle, one part of the answer for keeping this wonderful world, and the astounding array of animals on it, alive and well.

Our understanding of the natural world has grown leaps and bounds in even the last 20 years, and we continue to search for ways to improve the welfare of animals, and ensure their continued survival. Whichever way you look at it, these operations require money to continue, and if the preservation of wildlife is an important issue to you, then well-managed zoos keen on animal welfare are just one way for you to show your support.

Photo Opps Galore

The salt beds are a fascinating display of nature, and a possible link into our very distant past as life first began. If i'm ever to be a National Geographic photographer, I'd best consider wearing rubber boots next time.

Basura

People still throw their garbage wherever they like here in Mexico. It is changing, and will be a matter of time. A crucial step is the recycling of cans, where aluminum will be diverted from the landfill, cutting into the profits of the fulltime garbage dump residents. Garbage is money regardless. We did our part down on the presa and the boys helped me out a bit. We found well over 20 fish dead on the shore and I thought about how noone probably knows why. Helpless to stop the cycle.