Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Overcoming a Fear, Relearning Greek Mythology, and Counting the Ways in Which Spiders Are Actually Pretty Amazing




Upon traveling alone to Bordeaux, I found myself wandering around a city with churches older than United States of America. During one of my walks, I arrived at CAP Science, a museum designed for children to help them better understand and appreciate science. Though I seemed to be the only person unescorted by a child, I brought my English-French dictionary and walked inside an exhibit dedicated to spiders.

I am no different from just about everyone else when it comes to squeamishness around spiders. I think they're beautiful--and I will stare at them as long as they remain still and at a safe distance from my skin. This unfortunately does not always go as planned, and I too weep at their sudden movements in my direction.

Spiders, as I learned, are actually pretty incredible beyond their fright factor. For one--they are one of the oldest organisms to date on our planet. There are many records of spiders in amber--be it their bodies or their webs. Last Halloween, palaeobiologist Professor Braiser at the University of Oxford examined amber found by hunters in East Sussex. This one piece of amber contained a spider web dating back to the Cretaceous period--140 million years ago (BBC article). Spiders are not only older than the human race, but they date back to the age of the dinosaurs and thereby survived what the dinosaurs didn't.

In addition to being our elders, spiders have "one up" on humans. Spider webs can lift five times more weight than steel. Scientists have been trying to determine how it is spider silk is so strong and how to replicate it in technology. With this innovation, scientists could even create bullet proof vests capable of stopping a bomb (ABC News). Try to reflect on that for a moment: tiny little critters that we give a bad name are capable of creating technology beyond human capability.

There's a greek myth about a woman from Lydia named Arachne who was talented in the art of weaving--so much that she claimed to be better than Athena--a goddess. As in any myth, gods do not particularly enjoy when mortals think they are better than the gods, so Athena descended from her mountain dressed as an old woman and warned Arachne to not offend the gods. But, Arachne was quite confident and told the stranger just how confident she was. Of course, the old lady challenges Arachne to a weaving contest, and only after Arachne accepts does she reveal her true form as none other than the goddess Athena. So, Athena weaves an intricate scene of Poseidon and herself giving gifts to the people who named their city after her. Arachne weaves not only a tapestry of Zeus' mistresses (how rude--he's Athena's father), but makes it so life-like, intricate and beautiful that even thick headed Athena admits that Arcachne's is better. But, Athena is enraged that Arachne would call such a challenge, think so highly of herself and weave something insulting, she curses Arachne and tears up her tapestry. Humiliated, Arachne hangs herself. Athena then takes pity on Arachne and brings her back to life with the juice of aconite, but brings her back as a "spider." Thus, Arachne and all of her descendants will forever hang and be masterful weavers.

Why would I bother retelling a long story about spiders? Well, it's important to see how a society before us had respect for spiders. All these myths about Black Widows biting off the heads of their lovers or films like Arachnophobia are just as inaccurate as Jaws. Spiders may be creepy because they have eight eyes, eight legs, and tend to make their way into your house, but they're actually worth admiration. There's an ancient proverb, " If you wish to live and thrive, let the spider stay alive," and many people in Ireland and England don't kill spiders because it is a sign of a "happy home." Even more, when Jesus is born under King Herod's fear of the Messiah and order to kill all newborns, it was a baby spider who hid Jesus from the soldiers in the cave. It's said that Joseph prayed to God to protect Mary and their baby, and the spider heard the prayer and weaved a massive web that impressed the soldiers so much in its complexity, that they assumed it had taken days to make, and they didn't want to enter the cave and destroy it.

So, you might not be cured of your fear of spiders. I certainly am not about to feel comforted by their presence in my bedroom, but I do hope you will reflect on their capabilities, and the way they are portrayed by other societies. If we reevaluate the way we see nature--and all of its inhabitants--we can better appreciate just how incredible the world really is.

Monday, October 11, 2010

A Lesson in Sustainability: France


It's been a good while since I've written in this, but I do have a good excuse; I have moved to France!

France is different in many more ways than the language, the age of the villages, the holidays, the way people greet each other, the dishes, the weather, etc. Though I have discussed France's lack of political activism in conservation and ecological awareness with passionate French men, France is miles ahead of the United States in sustainability.

For one: At the grocery store, there are no bags. You have to bring your own, buy your own at the store, or simply go without a bag. (The U.S. is making an effort towards this, but paper and plastic bags are still conveniently available)

Secondly, most people buy what they can at the farmer's markets: produce, poultry, beef, sea food, cheese, milk, beans, clothes, bread--everything. Farmer's market products are not only cheaper than a supermarket, they are locally grown or produced and are thereby more sustainable than the imported Spanish tomatoes that are sold at the supermarket. (And much more sustainable than the South American imported produce I mentioned in a previous entry). Plus, you get to support a farmer rather than a farming industry.

I do not have a car. Yet, I can walk to the farmer's market and two super markets. I can walk to the pharmacy, clothing stores, the train station, the pub, and several different churches. When I do take transportation, it's the SNCF train or I ride in a car with someone else--and it's usually more than two people in the car. The cars, at that, are all manual transmission, are usually small passenger cars, and do not waste energy on air conditioning. I ride my bike, as do many others, and cyclists are respected on the road.


There are no clothes dryers. This may sound absurd, but it's actually pretty great. I spent about 3 hours sitting in a garden (see above) waiting for my clothes to wash, then hung them to dry. All while sipping tea and reading Dostoevsky. I actually enjoyed doing laundry. My clothes smelled better, I felt better, and it cost less both financially and ecologically.

There is no air conditioning, and heating is only used certain months of the year. All houses and buildings have these magic things called windows--with curtains and shutters that can go from covering the entire window, to having holes for light, and can even be rolled up to any stopping point until they no longer touch the window pane. The windows can open from the top and let in a little air, or they can open completely. The curtains and the shutters can block out sunlight when it's hot, and block out the cold when it's cold. In between, you can let in cool breezes--especially during the day.

Most of the houses and buildings are built into older structures: most of the houses I've been in were built inside of 400 year old farms, 500 year old stables, the working quarters of a castle or an old village. The architecture seeks to work with its environment and even that is more sustainable than America's well known suburban landscapes.

Everything is in smaller portions. And I'm not starving. But, I don't feel obligated to eat as much, and I feel better after I eat. Even coffee--it's served in a small cup, but the ingredients are so rich that a little cup does the job better than a larger cup in America--and it's actually a little cheaper (unless you're in Paris, of course). There is less waste, less consumption, and less energy to transport said waste and consumer products.

I can't begin to tell you how amazing the food is. I never knew a tomato could taste like something! And they're red, are often grown without harmful pesticides or unsustainable farming techniques. (Though, the French call "organic" food "Agriculture Biologique", and there is a difference) The industrialization of agriculture is not as strong in France as it is in the United States, and most of what you eat is actually from a real, pastoral image farm. There are, however, plenty of American industry products to buy for a much higher price in most supermarkets.

While I was at the farmer's market with my friend Claude, we were invited to lunch by a painter. The French are very welcoming, and we ended up staying at Raymond's house for a few hours eating a several course lunch, getting a tour of his garden, learning about his paintings, work within his house and the history of where he lives. The vegetarian fad has not quite hit France, and people are often interested to talk to me about why I chose to not eat meat.


When we got to his house, I couldn't believe how beautiful it was. Eating in France is thought of as nourishing the body, of spending time with those you love, and of taking the time to slow down. All too often, eating in America is fast, squeezed into a thirty minute break (in a French high school, the lunch break is at least an hour), and is made from boxes, jars, and bags.

Like I said, it's amazing how much more flavor a silly tomato has when you grow it locally and naturally. Raymond lives off the vegetables, herbs and fruit in his garden, eats eggs from his chickens, and only goes to the market for meat. And I can honestly say that the quality of taste and nutrition is worth the effort to keep up a garden.

So, I leave you with this: America has no excuse. Sure, it will take time for America to adjust its infrastructure--we can't simply start walking across the suburbs of Houston and forget our cars. We can, however, stop offering free, unsustainable bags in grocery stores. We can add bike lanes to more cities, promote and support farmer's markets in our towns (there's even one where I went to high school, and I never even knew!), start our own garden--and even start small, and try not using a dryer. Lastly, we should all make an effort to learn about other cultures' sustainable practices and apply them to our own lives, thereby influencing others and promoting change.

(Raymond,the farmer and Painter, and Claude, a fellow teacher and avid reader, in the garden)

France still has a long way to go, but simple habits that they practice make a difference in sustainability.


Sunday, September 19, 2010

Sea World As an Exercise in Mindfulness

Kennin and I petting a dolphin at Sea World.


Sea World was by far my favorite place in the world when I was young. A place where you can watch these beautiful whales leap out of the water and interact with humans as if they were as friendly as my dog was unfathomable. I loved all the shows in which human situations are acted out through sea animals, such as the mystery show starring a walrus.

As a teenager and college student, I went back to Sea World to ride the roller coasters, sit in the shark exhibit for an hour, and feel like a kid again. Over the Labor Day weekend, however, I revisited Sea World as a mentor for a five year old and two year old child. This entire summer has heavily consisted of me getting over my fear of children by interacting with my brother's girlfriend's children, and I've been amazed at just how curious and interested they are in the wonders of the world.

Kennin, the aforementioned five year old who watched Shark Week with me, loves sharks. She asked me to teach her about all the fish around us, so I took her hand and started pointing out sharks, talking about their behavior and having her identify them when they swam by. Sure enough, she started to remember them by their features and even responded to another visitor's spoken out loud thought as to what kind of shark had the giant teeth. We walked around the aquarium and looked at different fish, and she was constantly listening to everything I said, watching the fish, and asking things like, "Are they friends?" or "Where does he live?" Her being engaged in stopping and watching the fish instead of passing by inspired other kids and their parents to do the same; at some points, I was nearly lecturing a group of visitors about what they were really looking at in the tanks.

I don't think a lot of people really contemplate what it is they are experiencing when they look at a fish tank in an aquarium, feed a dolphin at Sea World or watch a Shamu show. This mindfulness makes trips to Sea World not only fun, but it helps to better grasp just how beautiful the world really is and how great it is that companies like Sea World use their resources to save wild animals and show the public what they share the planet with. Perhaps it is mindfulness that allows us to have that curiosity we value in children. If we can constantly remind our selves to really think about where we are, who we are, what we are doing and what we are looking at, we can see the world as brightly as we used to when we were kids.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Jellyfish--Vixens of the Sea


Jellyfish are probably some of the most bizarre, beautiful, and often annoying creatures of the ocean. My good friend and former roommate Courtney could sit, stare and sketch jellyfish while at the Aquarium for hours, and even has jellyfish tattoos on the side of her stomach. Because of her appreciation for these pretty critters, I dedicate this post to her.

Why are jellyfish so alluring despite their tendency to have painful greetings? Well, look at them. How many creatures do you know that are translucent and near transparent? Different jellyfish species are between 95 and 98% water, whereas us humans are a little over 60%. Another reason jellyfish are so pretty is probably because they are radically symmetrical, meaning both halves from the central axis mirror each other. Jellyfish do not have a brain, a respiratory system (breathing), a circulatory system (cycling materials, especially blood, around our body), or even an excretory system (filtering nutrients and getting rid of waste). Because of this, jellyfish actually go to the bathroom out of the same "hole" they take in food from.

Jellyfish don't even look like they should be alive with all their simplicities. Yet jellyfish, as a species, are older than the dinosaurs, and there's even thought to be an immortal jellyfish found (Thank you Christopher for showing me the article!). With so little inside their bodies, jellyfish must be pretty amazing at what they do in order to stay alive so long. Their "senses" consist of a neural net, "eyespots" detecting light from dark, and chemo-sensory pits that help detect prey. Jellyfish never stop growing, unlike us who typically tend to stop growing in high school after we've gone through sexual maturity. Without a respiratory system, jellyfish simply "breathe" in oxygen through their membrane-like skin. In order to swim, they use "jet propulsion" by taking in water through a muscular bell and shooting it out behind them. They aren't even fish, technically, because they don't have gills. Many scientists prefer to call them "sea jellies."

With no real internal organs or complex systems, you may wonder how jellyfish even reproduce. Well, jellyfish can reproduce sexually and asexually. Jellyfish are either born male or female, and each sex develops its eggs or sperm inside a pouch on their body. One fine day, the jellyfish will "throw up" their goods, and the goods pass from the stomach through the mouth. The eggs that stick to the lady jelly's mouth will be fertilized. The fertilized eggs become a planula, which is carried around ocean currents for quite some time until it is able to attach onto a surface and develop into a polyp. The polyp undergoes budding, which is like an asexual development of another polyp, and these polyps lead to the medusa stage. Some polyps actually split open through fission in order to become a medusa. Pretty weird, huh?

One jellyfish in particular, the box jellyfish, is known as the sea wasp. This little baby has 64 anuses (I'm serious) and 24 eyes, though they still can't really see. The box jellyfish is by far the most poisonous jellyfish, and it's sting can kill in 3 minutes. The amount of venom in one box jellyfish can kill up to 60 people. What's even more scary is that it can move at 2 meters.... per second. That means it would be pretty difficult to be stung and get back to shore. Thus, more people die from jellyfish attacks than sharks. Australians are well aware of this jellyfish, and they actually go swimming in regions where the jellyfish are located with women's pantyhose covering their arms and legs because the tentacles' little poison dart like nematocysts won't penetrate it. Additionally, their tentacles are near invisible and are pretty easy to get tangled up inside, which is why jellyfish are so good at finding prey despite the fact that most of them use ocean currents to get around. Think about how incredible it is that something so simple in form is not only alive, but has so much power and potential. Here we are, humans fully capable of adapting for life on every continent and have all kinds of fancy organs and systems, but some little thing that poops out of its mouth can cause us to stop breathing. It's pretty humbling to say the least.

Now that I've terrified you, know that most jellyfish species are not capable of killing you. A lot of jellyfish don't actually cause pain to humans because their stings are so subtle. Most of the ones who can noticeably sting you will not actually kill you, though they might make you whiney, and jellyfish are never aggressive. Jellyfish are just another one of the creatures on this planet that are beyond anything we could dream up, and reminds us that fact can indeed be strange than fiction.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Reflections on "Martian Child"


As I mentioned before with Avatar, my step dad and I love watching science fiction films together. My mom, however, is particularly restless and cannot sit through a movie. This trait made our only family trip to the theatre, that I can remember, to see Lord of the Rings particularly painful for her.

There's a film "Martian Child" that employs themes of science fiction, comedy and drama. The premise is that John Cusack's application for adoption finally comes through after his wife has passed, and he's not sure he has it in him to be a good parent. The child chosen for him by the adoption agent is a ten year-old boy who is convinced he's an alien from Mars and is thus why he stays under a box (as the sun is too bright) and wears a weight belt tying him to the ground made out of batteries. As John Cusack plays a famous science fiction writer, the pairing of these two is particularly amusing.

The three of us sat down to watch the film, and I'm glad we did. (My mom didn't get up once) There's a scene in particular when John Cusack is trying to talk to his new son. The kid's Andy Warhol social skills are making Cusack look like an inadequate parent to the adoption agency, especially when the kid steals from others in order to conduct his "mission" of documenting human life.

Here's what Cusack says: Dennis, can I just say one last thing about Mars? - which may be strange coming from a Science-Fiction writer - But right now, you and me here, put together entirely of atoms, sitting on this round rock with a core of liquid iron, held down by this force that seems to trouble you, called gravity, all the while spinning around the sun at 67,000 miles an hour and whizzing through the Milky Way at 600,000 miles an hour in a universe that very well may be chasing its own tail at the speed of light; And amidst all this frantic activity, fully cognisant of our own eminent demise - which is our own pretty way of saying we all know we're gonna die - We reach out to one another. Sometimes for the sake of entity, sometimes for reasons you're not old enough to understand yet, but a lot of the time we just reach out and expect nothing in return. Isn't that strange? Isn't that weird? Isn't that weird enough? The heck do ya need to be from Mars for?

It's surprising when John Cusack can express just how beautiful it is that we are pretty much parasites tearing up our very small corner of the universe, and our lives are pretty meaningless when you compare it to the rest of existence. For us to be alive amid all of this order and chaos is extraordinary enough. I guess when I become upset, lacking in confidence or defeated, I could think about how lucky I am to be a part of all of this--especially since I have no idea how to define "this" with so much out there I will never learn about. Our planet is a very small part of galaxy, and our galaxy is a part of an unknown array of other galaxies in some universe that is apparently constantly expanding. Even on our own planet, we have a lot to learn. There are species we haven't given names to, life in the ocean we are incapable of seeing because of our bodies' inability to withstand the ocean's pressure, ecological phenomenons and animal behavior we can't quite explain. Think about how much you know about the very place you life: how many plants can you name? what do you know about your own body? how does a computer work--really? It's overwhelming how limited we are despite our vast capabilities.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Revisiting Proust on a Night Bike Ride

Photo taken at the Arenal Volcano in Costa Rica.

I haven't been myself lately. For one, I've had the whole water submerged, The Graduate listlessness of coming home from one life and not knowing how to find the next. Secondly, I'm preparing to move to a foreign country where I'll be completely on my own and speaking a language I can't quite grasp. And in all of these attempts to make plans and steps, I'm worried about a family illness that will be much more difficult to help out with when I'm across the ocean. Needless to say, I've been a bit off.

And in the football crazed, concrete, Baptist haven of Tomball, Texas, I haven't found much to confide these discomforts in. Thus, I decide to take a night bike ride. It's colder out now--the sticky heat of a Texan summer is beginning to pass, and I actually felt chills on my skin. Rather than the makeshift headlight I've created out of a headlamp on my bicycle, I rode in darkness. In the beginning of the ride, the stars were barely visible in the clouds.

I started thinking about living in France. And of all the things to think about, I started imagining all the good places I'd find for reading classic literature since I'll actually have free time. I thought about how I'll experience a different climate--how I'll see the trees change color and learn new names for the life around me.

I stopped after about 20 minutes to drink water, and I noticed the clouds were beginning to fade. And I realized I was cold--which was a relief; the heat seems to drive everyone mad. Then I noticed just how dark everything was. I had almost forgotten what darkness was--where everything bleeds together into one shadow and is somehow unrecognizable.

I guess we forget the brilliance of light or recognize the madness of heat until we are overwhelmed in darkness and or reminded of the cold. And in my anxieties of this summer, I started to learn more about the meaning of one of my favorite quotes from literature: Le bonheur est salutaire pour le corps, mais c'est le chagrin qui développe les forces de l'esprit. Happiness is beneficial for the body, but it is grief that develops the powers of the mind (Marcel Proust, Le Tempts Retrouvé, The Past Recaptured). All of this anxiety I feel is completely human, and my ability to confront, face and live with it will only allow me to see more of the beauty in my life.

If you're reading this and have something on your mind, I hope you'll find yourself on a night bike ride. Maybe a walk. A swim in a creek or river. Something that forces you to be alone outside in light or darkness, silence or sound.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Swamp Thing Unveiled

This picture was taken in November of 2009 on an Ecology and Evolution field trip with Dr. White at Loyola University. The canoe trips with Dr. White were one of the greatest aspects of my college education. I encourage anyone curious enough to find a way to take a guided canoe trip in the wetlands.

I was blessed enough to visit New Orleans once again. After having driven from Houston through Beaumont, I was a little grumpy from driving. Once my passenger and I reached the bridges past Lake Charles, we both were instantly relieved at the sight of the wetlands. And it's strange; swamps are generally thought to be horrifying places where diseases brew in infested insects and swamp monsters emerge. The muck and overgrown plants, the seemingly dirty water--it's not as easy on the eyes as a Florida beach. So why was I so relieved to see such a creepy place?

Miami beaches used to be mangroves. (mangroves are like salt-water swamps) It takes a lot of unnatural maintenance and landscaping to convert mangroves into sandy beaches, and is part of why Florida gets so torn up over hurricanes--mangroves and swamps help serve as natural hurricane protection. Beaches can be as creepy as swamps in their own way, as they often get in the way of the natural balances in nature.

Upon the "Bienvenue à Louisiane" sign is also a message to protect Louisiana's coast. Louisiana may not have artificially pristine beaches like Florida, but they do have something incredibly valuable and increasingly endangered. The wetlands surrounding the cities of Louisiana are the same wetlands that Jean Lafitte, a famous pirate in American History, smuggled imports and tricked the British in the Battle of New Orleans. These wetlands carry the sounds of porch music; they house fishermen who live by seasons of invertebrates rather than climate. Louisiana, and especially New Orleans, has such a unique culture that is bred within these peculiar ecosystems that most other people are afraid of.

Anyone who canoes out into the wetlands and watches a sunset can feel just how beautiful a swamp or marsh can be. (Remember: wetlands are literally characterized by permanent flooding. A swamp is mostly water, cypresses, etc. A marsh is full of grasses and water. Swamps and marshes make up the wetlands)

Beyond the beauty and cultural value of the wetlands, wetlands also have quite a few natural perks.

For one, they serve as "sponges" by absorbing and storing water, gradually releasing water; thereby, this process of water storage helps prevent flooding, reduces erosion, and "mixes" water and its components (like soil, debris from plants, etc) so that it flows easier. Thus, there's less hurricane damage, less flooding, less property damage, and healthier ecosystems surrounding the wetlands. Compare this to Miami beaches in which the National Guard has to build up sand bars (which costs A LOT) in order to keep the hotels from literally eroding away. Even in New Orleans East, neighborhoods have been built by drying out wetlands and have shortly ended due to the tendency for flooding.

While the wetlands absorb all of this water, the wetlands are also filtering and cleaning the water. All of the nasty fertilizers, septic tank debris, manure and who knows what are filtered through the abundant plant life and are removed from the water itself. This natural filtration process is so successful that some artificial wetlands have been built in order to treat storm and waste water.

Though the wetlands look like a big green and brown mess, they have an incredibly large array of ecological diversity comparable to a coral reef or rain forest. The balance of life in the wetlands creates an abundance of diverse habitats, allowing for energy to move from plants to small fish and crustaceans, to larger fish, reptiles and even humans. All of this life contributes to fishing industries that help keep Louisiana communities alive.

Consider some of these interesting facts about wetlands from the Environmental Protection Agency:


  • In 1991 wetland-related eco-tourism activities such as hunting, fishing, bird-watching, and photography added approximately $59 billion to the national economy. (i.e. if the beauty of wetlands don't convince you of their worth, wetlands are valuable economically through tourism)

  • According to the Pacific Coast Federation of Fishermen’s Associations, almost $79 billion per year is generated from wetland-dependent species, or about 71 percent of the nation’s entire $111 billion commercial and recreational fishing industry in 1997. (Again, wetlands are valuable economically.)

  • An acre of wetland can store 1–1.5 million gallons of floodwater. (Wetlands are pretty good at what they do)
  • Up to one-half of North American bird species nest or feed in wetlands. (Proof of wetland's biodiversity)
  • Although wetlands keep only about 5 percent of the land surface in the conterminous United States, they are home to 31 percent of our plant species. (Biodiversity again)
  • Seventy-five percent of commercially harvested fish are wetland-dependent. Add shellfish species and that number jumps to 95 percent. (Biodiversity and economy!)
So. Swamps may not be the ideal location for your next summer vacation. They are, however, beautiful and ecologically productive ecosystems that we should work to protect. Preserving the wetlands preserves the unique Louisiana cultures, the Louisiana economy, biodiversity, property values, esthetic value and helps clean our water. Perhaps the real Swamp Things we should fear are the lumber industries that clear cut the wetlands, the oil industries that trash our wetlands and our own selves for not standing up for these beautiful places.

If you want to find out how to help the wetlands, try the Gulf Restoration Network.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Live Life Like a Sea Turtle

Meet Margot, a baby green sea turtle found by fishermen in the Gulf of Mexico. After a particularly cold winter, this critter was too young to swim into deeper waters to stay warm and thereby froze in shallow water. The Audubon Aquarium of the Americas in New Orleans took her in and helped her get back on her feet, or so to speak.


I've found it increasingly difficult to fall asleep lately. I'm sure part of it is being out of school and its rhythm, while part of it is just that there's so many things to think about.

On these nights, I sometimes bring a pillow and blanket into the living room to watch the National Geographic, Discovery, or Animal Planet channel. One night in particular I decided to watch the program entitled "Oceans," which isn't too surprising.

Though I am calmed by watching sharks, eels, grumpy sea lions and orcas, I didn't expect a segment on precious little sea turtles to disturb and depress me for weeks.

I don't think anyone can deny that sea turtles are cute. They swim gracefully, and seeing them while snorkeling or diving is surreal. So when I saw the cutest little baby sea turtles hatching, I was pretty excited. Unfortunately, a few other critters were excited that the eggs were hatching, too because several different birds were waiting for a baby turtle to make its way out of the nest. Almost every baby turtle was either eaten by a bird or raccoon near the nest. Some of them were actually eaten by a terrifying salt water crocodile. These turtles are barely even alive and haven't actually become "sea" turtles yet since they haven't been given the chance to reach the sea.

Needless to say, I was upset for weeks. Every time I read about the sea turtles in the Gulf of Mexico, I'd get so sick thinking of how much they went through just to live past infancy and how much I hated birds, raccoons and crocodiles for eating innocent turtles.

Once I calmed down, however, I knew it was unhealthy to have something bother me so much. As with anything else, it only gets worse when you try not to think about it. So, I started reading up on sea turtles.

At first, it made it worse. If a sea turtle makes it through the surf for the first time, according to biologist James R. Spotila, it still has less than a 50% chance of survival. The more I read, however, the more I fell in love with sea turtles.

For instance, the sex of a sea turtle isn't determined the way humans are. Humans, as we all know, can inherit either an X or Y chromosome from their father and will become either male or female (technically speaking). Turtle gender is determined by the temperature of the egg during incubation. By this, I mean if an egg incubates at 82º F, he will become a male. If the egg incubates at 88º F, she will become a female. This even means that the position of eggs in the nest can determine what gender the egg will become, as eggs in the center are often warmer than the bordering eggs. Furthermore, if a storm passes through during the middle third of incubation, thereby lowering the temperature of the nest, eggs previously developing into females will become males. How absurd is that?

Additionally, sea turtles' brains contain magnetite, which is an iron compound. Because of this, sea turtles can sense the earth's magnetic field since the magnetite is drawn towards the North Pole. It's like having a compass built in to your brain. This is why female turtles will often find the beach they were born on to lay their eggs many years later (sea turtles often don't lay their first eggs until they are 35--sounds good to me, too).

Despite how cool sea turtles are, there are still very few of them that make it into juveniles. On top of that, beach tourism destroys turtle nesting sites and overfishing makes it difficult for many turtles to survive.

Yet, when turtles are able to live, they really do live. Sea turtles well outlive humans and can live to be over 150 years old! In fact, the Galapagos turtle named Harriet that Darwin brought back on the 1835 Beagle voyage lived to be 176 and only recently died in 2006. Take a moment to think about that. This turtle is older than Darwin's Origin of Species--a book that single handedly altered our understanding of how things change over time. But that ridiculous turtle lived through all of it. The oldest living turtle on record was a 250 year old from the Kolkata Zoo in India. Imagine if we were able to live that long--we would be able to see so much more of the world and do so much more with our lives. Turtles are creatures that may have to truly fight in order to live, but still they live more fully than humans do. Our average lifespan is only around 72 years, yet we spend a large part of it not aware of how lucky we are to be alive.


What can I take away from this besides cool turtle facts? For one, it's hard caring about the world. The more you read and learn, the more you feel incapable of helping all the things that are wrong. However, if we ignore the world and try not to think about it, we only feel worse. By choosing to educate ourselves and face the things that make us uncomfortable, the stronger we are in facing problems and the more beauty we'll stumble upon. Secondly, since sea turtles have to fight a lot harder than we do in order to live, we might as well live life more fully.

Want to read more about these bad asses? I got most of my information in James R. Spotila's book here

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Stars as Ghosts



This sweet little fellow is a Yucatan Banded Gecko. He is one of the many beautiful things you can find only at night while being quiet and still. My class spotted him while in the Coxcomb Jaguar Sanctuary in Belize. Sooo cute!

Today, I realized I was homesick for New Orleans. It's a strange feeling--I can't remember ever longing for a "home," I've never even felt like I had a home since my family moved around a lot when I was younger. I often miss family and friends when I go to new places, but never do I miss an entire place or a collective group of people. Sure enough, I began to miss riding my bike to Neutral Ground coffeehouse to read, drink a pot of tea, listen to live music and talk with some of the most intriguing people. I missed my front porch and the dynamic of my old house with roommates who couldn't have been more perfect. I missed red beans and rice Mondays, sunsets over the wetlands and Cajun accents.

After having realized what I was feeling, I decided to take a bike ride through my dad's neighborhood to clear my head. Often times, people take a "drive" when they're upset. Bike riding, however, lets you feel the night breeze, hear the crickets and frogs, catch glimpses of families of deer, get exercise and look up at the Texas night sky. Surely these things are more cleansing than the stressful and eco-inefficient catharsis of driving.

And, though I still miss New Orleans, I couldn't believe how open and clear the sky was on this evening bike ride. I hadn't seen the stars while I was in New Orleans, as the city lights and life were always burning into the night. While looking up, I started to wonder why so many people can feel comforted and overwhelmed by the stars.

What exactly are stars? I know they're burning balls of gas, and that they're huge and [in a galaxy] far, far away. I know looking into them is like looking back in time, as it takes a long time for the light of the stars to reach us here on earth. One of my friends once told me if we were to put a giant mirror far out with the stars, we'd be able to look back in time on earth, too. To be precise, stars are giant balls of gas held together by their own gravity. Gravity, keep in mind, is that physical law that gives weight and pressure in order to keep things in tact. There are phases in a star's life characterized by the gravitation forces keeping it together and its interaction with the pressure of hot gas and/or radiation from inside the star's core.

As I was riding my bike tonight, I was amazed by how much I could actually see despite the lack of streetlights in a heavily wooded neighborhood. So I began to ask myself why it is that stars shine and how stars can produce light that burns bright enough to be seen 4.3+ light years away. The answer: nuclear fusion. Fusion is the process in which lighter atoms combine with one another to form heavier atoms. Think about relationships. Nuclear fusion is like when two formerly single people get together and form one union. Two is bigger (heavier) than one, and this process of uniting can expel a whole lotta energy (passion, love, what have you). So because stars are literally giant hot burning balls of gas, the converting of energy (nuclear fusion) releases a whole lot of excess energy that we on earth see as light. Depending on the temperature in the center a star, fusion can happen through a number of ways. This is like how we have different understandings of love and relationships at different ages and levels of maturity in our lives: we may all be people just as stars are always stars, but all things are constantly changing.

As far as the night sky being a literal map of history, our galaxy (Milky Way) is about 100,000 light years across. Since light travels at 186,000 miles (3oo,oookm) per second, it can take light from the stars tens of thousands of years to reach us on earth. Even more so, stars outside of our galaxy can take up to millions of years to see . Quasars, the farthest stars we can see, can take billions of years to see. Thus, a lot of what we see in the night sky are ghosts--that is, mere reflections of what is no longer alive.

So. If you start to feel homesick, stressed or maybe just in need of fresh air, I suggest taking a night bike ride. Even if you can't see the stars from where you live, try to listen for all the sounds you hear. What do you find comforting in the night?

And, if you want to learn more about the stars, I read up on the stars for my blog entry at nasa's education page here.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Happy Shark Week!

This precious baby above is a Sand Tiger shark. He looks quite vicious, as his mouth is constantly open and bears quite a few nasty teeth. This type of shark, however, is particularly harmless and non-aggressive. Additionally, their jaws are not built to eat large creatures, and they'd rather not have to take multiple bites for a meal. They keep their mouth open in order to breathe underwater and will only attack humans if provoked. They are the only shark known to gulp air, as storing air in their stomachs allow them to float still in the water, making it easier to catch unsuspecting fish. Looks can be deceiving no matter what species. (Personal photo taken at the Georgia Aquarium--a place of dreams)

Does else anyone think it's curious that millions of people across the nation (and quite possibly the world) take time out of their days during a singular summer week to watch educational programs about sharks?

Today I sat down with a young five-year-old girl who I have been trying to teach Star Wars and marine science to. This young lady particularly likes television shows such as Spongebob Squarepants. While the animation is colorful and arguably quite beautiful, I find myself a bit agitated at the improbability of it all. Life underwater would not be able to contain crabby patties or the same terrestrial laws of physics, nor should children think it possible to make jelly out of jellyfish.

I flipped off the cartoons and turned on the Discovery channel, as my friends have been wishing me a happy Shark Week. Most of the dialogue was inarticulate for a five year old to follow, but the show itself showed a group of divers trying to prove that sharks are not the cold blooded killers we often think them to be. The stars of this episode in particular were great white sharks, who have been known to be more aggressive than other species. Kennin, the young girl, was confused as to why the sharks didn't eat the divers. I explained to her that people don't go around eating everything in sight that they see, though Kennin confessed that she is hungry all the time. We are constantly surrounded with things that are "edible" in a sense: tv remotes, couches, tables, books. We do not, however, think of these items as appetizing. Sharks do not think humans are particularly enticing, and sharks mostly do not voluntarily choose to taste a human. In fact, sharks are not the voracious eaters we always imagine them to be. Rather, they are sort of like vultures and often eat the dead and dying fish instead. This isn't to say that sharks are lazy; Rather, sharks help maintain healthy ecosystem balances and are dire parts of oceanic life.

Reports of shark attacks are almost always accounts of sharks being under stress or mistaking a human for another creature. It is advisable to not go swimming in the ocean when one is wounded, as sharks can detect such stress from quite a distance and will indeed seek to "clean up" their territory. When sharks do bite, however, they usually don't take much more than one bite; humans are not particularly delicious. Unfortunately, one bite from a large jaw with rows upon rows of sharp teeth can do a lot of damage. Sharks are not going to seek out innocent and unsuspecting humans, but there are precautions humans should take when in shark territories.

As the program progressed, Kennin thought it interesting that the divers would swat their hands at the shark who swam towards the diver. I explained to her how the diver is telling the shark that he (the diver) is not to be messed with. These divers study sharks for a living and know how to read shark behavior. That's why when the shark showed the divers his teeth, the divers decided to leave the water and respect the shark's territory. Like most animals, barring one's teeth is a sign of threat or aggression.

The grand finale in the program consisted of a female great white shark revealing her stomach to a snorkeler. This behavior is an act of submission, or like a hand shake as I explained to Kennin. The shark then allowed the snorkeler to hold onto her fin and swim 75' with her--just like a trained dolphin might. Kennin understood this as the shark and snorkeler becoming friends, and I was awe-struck by this friendship.

Sharks are creatures that date back before the dinosaurs, and they are some of the most feared and misunderstood creatures on this planet. Though I recognize many of the Shark Week programs are about shark attack survivors and often dramatize shark's predator capabilities, I am incredibly thankful that the discovery channel can help people rethink their understanding of what sharks are. The ocean stretches over 2/3rds of our earth, and sharks are the ones who regulate and control the water. That means sharks are much more influential than we might think; as stewards of the earth, it is our responsibility to ensure that they are treated with the same delicacy and respect that we give to all life.

Shark Video : Here is a trailer for a Shark documentary that seeks to help people better understand sharks' roles in our world. They are becoming increasingly threatened by humans' fear of and disinterest in their well-being. By seeking to learn more about the worlds' odd inhabitants, however, we begin to see how dependent humans are on the intricate balances maintained by all forms of life.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Using Finding Nemo Friends to Transcend the Gender Binary

Not only are women discovering what it means to have equal rights, women and men both are now redefining what it is to be a "woman." Gender roles are being subverted, leaving both stereotypes and cultural expectations unfulfilled.

These movements in what we understand about our own gender can be explored through looking back unto nature. Take for instance one of the most bizarre gender roles I've encountered: the angler fish. The angler fish is of course featured in the film Finding Nemo. (Remember that working in an aquarium makes you relate fish through Disney films to keep kids' attention) It has giant scary teeth and this peculiar little light (bioluminescence) that helps attract prey to it, as the angler fish lives in the deep ocean where sunlight does not reach. The angler fish floats motionless and waves its light around. Due to the deep ocean (3,000') being particularly scarce in grub, the angler fish can expand its stomach and swallow prey twice the size of the angler fish's entire body. One might assume that this terrifying creature is a male, but the male is actually a much smaller fish. The male fish loses its ability to feed itself when it reaches maturity due to the degeneration of its digestive system. Thus, the male goes out looking for a way to eat and ends up biting onto a female angler fish. The Male's teeth are conveniently hook shaped and easily latch on, but once he takes a bite, he releases an enzyme that both melts his lips and melts part of the female. This process literally fuses the bodies together as one, giving new meaning to the romantic idea of being one with your significant other. This is almost a parasitic union however, as the male feeds off of the female's nutrients and is only used by the female as an instant way to spawn. Additionally the female can carry up to six males on her body at a time and is by no means monogamous. Thus, the female angler fish is the dominant gender, the socially accepted multi-partner gender, the physically larger and the aggressive, head of house-hold gender. All of these are not what we would normally think of as female due to our cultural history, but this change in defining our gender is by no means unnatural. A more comical explanation of this process can be found here: http://theoatmeal.com/comics/angler

Beyond the redefining of gender roles, we are also re-examining whether or not we can be simply male or female. We may have the goods to be defined as either male or female, but we can identify our emotions and sentiments with a gender that is not our physical own. There are hermaphroditic relationships all over nature. Sequential hermaphrodites are born as one gender but can later change into another such as our beloved Nemo the clown fish. Clown fish engage in protandry and are born as males in which both reproductive and not yet reproductive males lives in a harem together with a large, singular female for reproduction. When the female dies, one of the reproductive males will become the female and one of the sexually immature males will mature. Simultaneous reproduction exists when one organism possesses both male and female parts, such as earthworms and slugs. (And, allegedly, Jamie Lee Curtis upon her birth)

Thus, gender roles undergo change throughout nature. Perhaps it is one thing to literally become a female fish in the anemone than it is to be born a man and "feel" more like a woman, but we also can't quite say for sure whether or not animals endure a mere gender change mentality. What we "feel" is "natural," isn't it?

Friday, July 16, 2010

Juxtaposing Cornelius Fudge and the Current Oil Disaster

Everyone seems to hate both the film and movie for Harry Potter Year V,
The Order of the Phoenix. Harry is 15, but who wasn't utterly annoying at the age of 15? I feel that Harry has a bit of an excuse considering his parents were murdered, the "family" who is supposed to love and support him through difficult times constantly puts him down and loathes him, he just witnessed the death of a friend by the hand of the dark lord who killed Harry's parents, and no one believes Harry that Voldemort is back. In fact, as the wise Luna Lovegood points out, Voldemort is trying to make Harry feel alone by turning the magic world against him. I'm thinking Harry Potter deserves a bit of angst, so I appreciated J.K. Rowling's depiction of human emotion.

Why am I discussing Harry Potter on a nature blog? Well, I believe in intertwining disciplines and practices to better see how interconnected the world really is. Let's take one of the largest lessons of that book: we must accept, confront and believe in ourselves in order to do what is right. This is most apparent in Cornelius Fudge, the minister of magic, who refuses to believe that Voldemort is back out of utter fear. He's so afraid to admit it to himself that he creates an elaborate mess of the magic world by employing the nightmarish woman Dolores Umbridge at Hogwarts. Umbridge tries to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts without the use of wands, sort of like Chemistry without lab time (see my previous blog for how that works out), and completely robs the school of a real education.

As much as I'd love to kick Tony Hayward, BP CEO, in the face, I'm beginning to see him as a Cornelius Fudge archetype. He's not evil, and he definitely didn't intend to destroy an ecosystem (well, quite a few now), a culture, and many people's lives across the world. He has said a lot of terribly inconsiderate things, and seems to constantly underestimate the severity of the situation. He wants his life back, it's a small spill in a large ocean, yadda yadda.

An oil spill is nothing like the dark lord returning. An oil spill is indeed an accident, but it is an accident that can be better relegated through efficient safety precautions and procedures to both prevent and efficiently take care of disasters when they happen. I for one have had sincere difficulty trying to pay attention and write about the oil spill. It's by far the worst part about having a degree in environmental studies or simply caring about the world--you are challenging yourself to learn about everything that is going on, only to feel incredibly helpless that you're only one person in a culture that tears at the seams of the earth. It's been hard for me to sleep at night since the April 20th explosion turned into one of the greatest technological disasters in the history of the United States.

We have the right to be whiney like Harry Potter, and we do have an excuse to point fingers for a while. But what it all comes down to is that something terrible is happening (and with the recent cap, let's hope it'll stop leaking now for good), and it is our responsibility to fight it. We may not of been the ones who had a poorly designed or executed engineering plan to drill off shore. We may not be the ones who blatantly and public undermine the complexity of our mistakes. We are, however, able to accept what has happened unlike Cornelius Fudge. We are also able to talk about what has happened, to learn about what is happening and to spread this to those who may find be struggling to grasp what is happening. We can write about it on blogs, send out e-mails, write letters to our state legislators, write to companies like BP who use offshore drilling and discuss how serious this problem is. We can also reduce our own oil intake by carpooling, riding bicycles, taking public transportation. We can do research, ask questions, and challenge ourselves to be aware and face what is going on. Without all of us challenging each other to do something, we won't get anywhere. This may seem discouraging, but I believe we are all inherently good people who make their own choices. As Dumbledore said, "It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

You may not have the ability to stop what is happening on your own. You can, however, chose to do something.

http://www.restorethegulf.gov/ Here is the government's site on updates and information on how to help.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yshPScxTw8s This is a friend's video of how she is helping.

And, if the current cap on the oil spill stops the oil from spilling, please know that it's NOT over. There is still oil in the soil from the Exxon Valdez spill from 1989. We need to assure that BP and the rest of the United States finishes cleaning the mess, as all things in this world are connected.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Science Education

So, remember how "they" always said people are either right or left brained? People are either creative or rational, good at math or good at writing. Well, I'd like to deconstruct this theory. To begin, I double majored in English Writing and Environmental Studies. I can spend an afternoon reading, and I find solving math equations to be relaxing.

I used to think I was stupid. I really loved exploring and being outside, but I didn't seem to do well in my science classes. I could easily get a good grade in my English courses by reading the homework, but even if I tried to read the Chemistry textbook, I didn't necessarily do well on the test.

But, now that I look back on it, perhaps it wasn't my own incapability that hindered me from being proficient in my science courses. Maybe I wasn't being taught science in the way I needed to be taught. My freshman biology class was taught at 9am by my freshmen basketball coach, a woman who I feared. We spent most of our time sleepily memorizing diagrams from an overhead projector and never truly understood the relationship between all these unrecognizable words we memorized. My chemistry class was taught by a kind and intelligent woman who had previously retired and was rehired due to a lack of available teachers. I was in an on-level science class in a public school despite the fact that all my other classes were AP or Honors, and it showed. Every day there was a group of boys who would disrupt our class and make the teacher cry, so we would read from the unreadable dense and confusing Chemistry textbook instead of working through labs, hearing our teacher's explanations as she writes on the board or discussing in groups what it all meant. I never even took a Physics class because I was too scared. I instead took an Aquatic Science course where we watched Finding Nemo and our field trip to the beach was cancelled since most of the class was failing. Needless to say, I thought I was merely right brained and wasn't supposed to be good at science.

Yet, I loved science. My brother and I's dream is to have a lifetime subscription to National Geographic. I ride my bike at night just to hear the calls of toads, I became scuba certified and literally giggle when I see pictures of fish. I volunteered at a local aquarium, took science classes despite the fact that I was an English major in college. I suddenly found myself in love with ecology--our field trip for Ecology and Evolution consisted of canoeing out into the swamp at night, and I loved every minute of it. I began to realize that learning science is a lot different than learning history or understanding literature; it's not harder. I felt somewhat cheated that I never learned about Evolution until I was a Junior in college, but I was also glad that I finally faced my fear of science and worked hard enough to make sense of it.

Though I am just now beginning to challenge myself, I've noticed how many kids in high school are just as scared, if not more, of science as I was. To raise a generation of kids to be afraid of science in a society that already struggles with understanding the world is a dangerous thing. To think--we use words like "believe" with scientific realities like global warming and evolution. We cannot let ourselves become disillusioned with science and understanding how the world works. If anything, we should learn how to make science easier to understand. Just as I needed the right teacher and experience to appreciate science, the general public can become more acquainted with science if we learn how to more legibly express it. Had that chemistry book I read been more legible, maybe I would've actually comprehended those exams. I actually wanted to be a scientist when I was a little kid but was far too afraid to pursue the dream when I couldn't understand my science textbooks.

I guess that's why I'm so dedicated to merging my passion for writing and my passion for ecology--the world is far too interesting for people to limit themselves to being merely right or left brained.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Avatar

One of the most expensive films to date, James Cameron's Avatar, is heavily laced with ecological overtones and borrows from classic films that came before it. Yet it is more than "dances with smurfs," as it examines the struggle between science for research and science for the sake of control; reality unto the imagined; heroism and martyrdom; and passion versus professional education.




I first saw the film over Christmas break at a 10pm showing with my father and brother. I wasn't prepared for the 2 hours and 40 minutes of a head-ache inducing 3-D acid trip. I was indeed overwhelmingly impressed with the advancement of CGI, the imagination and thoughtfulness of the film's visual design, and the attempt to argue for ecological awareness. Upon the car ride home, however, I could not say whether or not I liked the film; I was stuck debating whether or not I thought the climactic scene of a literal war on terrorism was ethical for the "network of all living things" to undertake. I hated how predictable and corny the dialogue was, I didn't like that the unobtainable resource bringing the humans to invade another planet was actually called "unobtainium," though I was interested in this plot as an allegory to the war on terrorism/war for oil in the Middle East.




After being undecided on my feelings towards the film, I bought the movie while in Fredericksburg, Texas. My stepfather is an avid science fiction lover and will spend his free weekends watching the Sy Fy channel and recorded Stargate episodes. My cousin is visiting from Arkansas and has a genuine appreciation for the world around her. We watched the film this evening, and I tried to ignore my English major's learned hesitancy towards an overwhelmingly Hollywood style production.





After having spent two weeks in Belize with a bunch of biologists, I was impressed with how closely related the CGI created nature was to a real jungle. Most of the life was recognizable, though with obvious deviations, and accurately represented an earthly balance of a complex ecosystem. The seeds of the sacred tree look exactly like bri-bri flowers (see above picture), and the lemurs acted and looked particularly like the spider monkeys who annoyingly swung from all the trees.



Interestingly enough, Cameron had his crew stay in Hawaii in order to get a feel for the "rain forest." With 60% of the film being computer generated, there was no actual rain forest set design for the actors to work with. The cast went hiking, built campfires and ate fish. At night, however, they slept in the Four Seasons hotel (imdb). Hawaii is also a series of small volcanic islands and the islands do not contain any sort of large mammal like the jaguar-like cat or the rhino-like tapir in the film. This attempt to be "one with nature" as an acting technique through false, unrealistic means is similar to that of the premise of the film. Jake Skully finds freedom through being an Avatar. The word avatar was first employed to mean an incarnation of a Hindu deity (Merriem-Webster). It was only recently used to define an electronic image controlled and representing a computer user. Through this "electronic" world, Jake is able to walk and move freely despite his actual paralysis. This is why Jake foolishly rushes outside of the hospital, gets bored in the forest and thereby gets attacked by a panther(?), and is also why he is chosen by Eywa in the first place--for he literally has nothing to lose since the virtual world gives him so much more freedom than the real world, therefore he has nothing to fear. In summation, Jake must artificially experience nature in order to understand it. Though he is racing with dragons and dating the chief's daughter, his real body is still sleeping in a machine.


This is much like the way we experience "nature." I scuba dive in order to better understand the ocean's inhabitants. I often believe I was a fish in a former life, yet I am still a human not built to breath underwater relying on equipment to keep my lungs from collapsing. Being a scuba diver is not much different than being a dual DNA Avatar in a fictitious planet. When we go hiking in national parks like Yosemite and Yellowstone, we are not trekking through raw, wild nature. We are walking paths set for us where many people have been and therefore chased off most wildlife we would normally see. It is a tamed wilderness, not much different than a zoo, and is a false image of what natural truly is.


If we can shake the hokey blue man Avatar image from our minds and put our own experience of nature in the film's intentions, we can arrive at a particularly valuable lesson. Jake begins to explore nature as a Marine, or as taking orders. We begin to experience nature because a. it's an "escape from reality" (though what's more real than nature?) b. we are curious, interested in travel and exploration and c. we are adventurous. Yet like Jake, once we immerse ourselves more deeply within nature and attempt to "read"the forest, we begin to notice things. Certain bird calls mean that the sun will rise the next day, leaf-cutter ants come out after a heavy rain, jaguars can smell the scent of a human and is thereby why they are so hard to see in the wild. Once we begin to understand the language of nature, we begin to lose the shell we go into nature with. This is comparable to the old fogy Thoreau himself when he stops fishing and merely watches the fish--we go into the woods and live falsely; the more we let go of what we think we should do and allow ourselves to be open, the more we actually contemplate nature.


I'm not saying we should gather all of our forests friends and take "an eye for an eye" as Cameron's film suggests. I am still bothered by this epic conclusion in which Cameron justifies warfare in order to achieve peace. I do think Avatar's simple use of the avatar to get into nature and teach the audience how to begin thinking ecologically is successful. Still, we must remind ourselves that we are still living falsely in reality. Green "fashion" is not true ecological consciousness, as while I am writing this blog entry, I am using energy and polluting the environment. Yet the more we pay attention to our actions, the more we are able to be conscious of how to read the world around us. The more we read of the trail, tracks, scents and sounds around us, the more we are able to return to the nature we live as avatars within.


Tuesday, June 15, 2010

The Jaguar Shark

It was only months before that I crossed state lines in my two door focus to catch a glimpse of the whale sharks of the Georgia Aquarium. Little did I know, I would soon see whale sharks in their natural habitat.
There's a scene in Wes Anderson's film The Life Aquatic in which the characters, angered and hurt by one another, come across the much anticipated jaguar shark. Though Steve Zissou intends to kill this shark in order to avenge his friend, seeing this shark swimming in the wild is so profound that no one can do anything but stare. "Staraflur" by Sigur Rós plays in the background and despite how much of an asshole Steve has been through the entire film because he has difficulty expressing human emotion, he wonders if the shark remembers him. It is at this point in the film where reconciliation occurs, as everyone in the cramped submarine places their hand on Steve as an act of human connection and comfort. Thus, this beautiful shark, though he may have taken a life, has brought everyone in the submarine together. (watch the scene, abbreviated, here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZ8U9t4MgN8)
While in the Gladden Spit Placencia Sanctuary, a few biologists, biology students and I went diving into the open ocean. Literally all we could see was an abyss of blue all around us. Beneath us, however, was the ocean floor, over 125' below us and perfectly visible. We spent nearly an hour blowing bubbles and attempting to attract a whale shark, as bubbles can be mistaken for snapper eggs. The dive was unsuccessful though, and we begrudgingly climbed back into the boat. While finding a place for a second dive, however, my professor points out a fin and yells "DOLPHIN!" Upon the animal's second surfacing, we realized it was definitely not a dolphin. Rather, it was a juvenile whale shark. Almost without speaking, the entire boat dives into the water and swims after it. The whale shark swam so close to us that I had to swim out of the way in order not to touch him, as I wanted to respect the wild animal in a sanctuary. The entire moment was unreal--that creature less than two feet from me was one of the most beautiful animals I had ever seen. Even as a juvenile he was so much larger than me, yet he couldn't harm me at all. Of course, I forgot to grab my camera in the excitement of the moment, but I wasn't mad at myself. If anything, I got to enjoy the moment more fully than I could've with a camera to prove I had experienced it. We swam after the whale shark for a while. One of our girls even lost her flipper from a boat engine that was turned on despite the swimmers all across the water.
I didn't really even want to go diving again, my heart was beating so fast and I could feel warm tears on my face with the cool salt water. I had just seen my favorite animal, the largest fish in the world and the creature whose plush stuffed animal version I sleep with at night. But, the dive master threw our BCDs in, and we strapped our equipment on before descending again. This time, instead of the sandy bottom, we saw a swarm of snappers. They were a complete blur because there were so many of them, constantly swimming and engulfing the entire abyss. Suddenly we found ourselves with another dive group and we all kept swimming in circles, over and over, and I kept getting confused as to who I was supposed to be following. Then our dive master points his finger out into the blue abyss, and I try to make out what he's pointing at. Then, out of complete darkness, a figure emerges. I keep staring at the dark figure as it slowly starts to take a recognizable shape, and I see white spots. Once again my chest starts pounding and I have to remind myself that I'm 50' below the water and need to stay calm--it was a 35' whale shark. I start to swim faster than I knew I could swim after him, snapping pictures with my dive camera and completely disregarding the need to keep breathing. I just find myself staring at him, wanting to understand what I was looking at and in awe of just how huge he was and how he didn't seem to care that we were watching. I was so excited that I actually threw up through my regulator, a habit I've never had, but being someone who swears they were a fish in another life witnessing a whale shark will make you act quite strangely.


I think Wes Anderson captured the scene of complete awe with something so powerful in nature quite perfectly. Aquariums like the one I worked at help others to truly see what else exists in the world and builds curiosity and passion for such life. But actually seeing it in the wild and feeling completely insignificant to a life so profound is a concept beyond my limited understanding. This feeling must be what John Muir felt exploring the Sierra Nevada or why sailors were so afraid of whales. This feeling is what keeps people fighting for the environment when it's completely exhausting. The current situation in the Gulf of Mexico has made me hardly able to eat. To think that not only an entire ecosystem is being hurt by the inefficiency of a corporation living up to its responsibility, but an entire culture is now devastated. Perhaps this disaster will help our political leaders better comprehend how vulnerable the natural world is to our responsibilities. Even if it's hard to convince a politician to protect the whale sharks that he has no idea just how beautiful they truly are, it must mean something to see an entire region infuriated, seafood markets and tourism devastated, and an important coastline flooded with oil and suffering life.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

What is Nature?

How would you define nature?

Often times we think of "nature" as green, beautiful landscapes. We think of nature as "natural" and define a word with the very word we are trying to define.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary (Man, I'm going to miss being a college student), nature is:

1. Senses relating to physical or bodily power, strength, or substance.
2. Senses relating to mental or physical impulses and requirements.
3.Senses relating to innate character.
4. Senses relating to the material world.

How does this help us to define what nature is? Nature is the sensory experience of bodily strength? Nature is our physical impulses or mental requirements? Nature is the senses related to who we really are? Nature is what is experienced in the material, tangible world?

Timothy Morton discusses how to disassociate our idea of nature as landscape and butterflies, for every aspect of our lives is nature. Just as music is about notes and sounds, music is also about the silences in between notes. Nature is not just what we see, but nature is the mere act of seeing something and the act of perceiving sight through sensory organs. By understanding nature as all of these things and not just pastoral images, ecology must take on new significance. I have no idea what Morton does with this newly constructed ecology as I have only read a chapter of his book, but I'll let you know when I do. (See for yourself: http://ecologywithoutnature.blogspot.com/, Zizek claims Morton's book is "Outstanding")

Why do I seek to define what nature is? I think we all too often put nature outside ourselves. We are Homo sapiens, of the Mammalia class, the order of Primates, the phylum Chordata and the Animalia kingdom. Thus, we are part of nature. Even me typing this into a computer is an action I've acquired through natural tendencies of the society I live in. Perhaps by seeing nature in all things, we can better see how intricately interrelated all of nature is and the dire need to resolve the ecological crises. If not for ethics, then we must better tend to our relatives plants, other animals and organic matter because their decline will lead in our own demise.