The Real Predator

According to the conservation group Oceana, an average of four people per year were killed by sharks from 2006-2010, and there were only three fatal attacks in the United States in that time (out of 179 total). Beachgoers are more than three times more likely to drown than to die from a shark attack. Compare that to the more than 25 million sharks killed by humans each year, and it becomes clear who is more dangerous.

Sharks, as top predators in the oceans and seas, are critically important to the health of the saltwater ecosystem. One of the main reasons why many shark species are endangered is the international trade in shark fins, used as a delicacy in shark fin soup, consumed primarily in Asia. According to Shark Advocates International, they are also valued for their meat, hides, teeth and livers. Due to the facts that sharks grow slowly, take a long time to reproduce, and give birth to small numbers of offspring, these fish are especially susceptible to human threats.

Hammerhead in the Depths

Tourism as a Conservation Tool

One strategy to help protect and research sharks that is gaining popularity is ecotourism. A recent study of sharks around Costa Rica’s Cocos Island estimated the value of a hammerhead shark to tourism at US $1.6 million each, compared to just less than $200 it could bring if caught and sold. A 2011 study by the Australian Institute of Marine Science had an even more dramatic difference, estimated a lifetime value of nearly US $2 million for a reef shark in Palau, versus only $108 for sale in a fish market. Governments are starting to take notice of this economic value: Countries including Australia, Palau and the Cook Islands have recently created large, new marine protected areas to protect sharks and other ocean life.

While diving to see sharks has its abstract value, many tour operators and volunteer organizations are taking advantage of shark tourism to directly benefit conservation. SEEtheWILD partner Sea Turtle Restoration Project has a unique trip for divers to the Cocos Island, where people can help tag hammerheads as part of a research program. In Belize, Earthwatch Institute has a volunteer program that allows participants to study shark populations and the value of marine protected areas.

Another way that travelers can support shark research is by participating in the Whale Shark Photo ID Library. Anyone with underwater photos of whale sharks, the gentle giant of the depths and the largest non-mammalian vertebrate on Earth, can upload them to this website for identification and cataloging, helping to build this important resource for conservation efforts. Finally, some shark trips generate donations for conservation efforts, including this whale shark trip to Isla Mujeres (Mexico).

Playing it safe

For those who get sweaty at the mention of sharks, there are many ways to keep yourself safe when in the water with these animals. The easiest way is to swim with the least threatening of sharks, the whale sharks. Though these giant fish can be 40 feet long and weigh 20 tons, they don’t have teeth and are not aggressive to humans. Also, by remaining calm around sharks and keeping your distance, you can minimize the risk of experiencing a negative encounter with these fascinating creatures. If you are diving or snorkeling in areas where sharks live, ask your guide about what to expect and what species to look out for.

SEEtheWILD’s Tips for Shark Conservation Tourism

Check out SEEtheWILD’s shark conservation tours and volunteer programs:

-Mexico Whale Sharks

-Whale sharks & turtles

-Belize shark research

-Undiscovered Belize

-Galapagos Adventure

-Cocos Island Shark & Turtle Research

– Brad Nahill, SEEtheWILD

The Taos-Based Youth Biodiversity Art Project: Connecting children to the environment through artistic expression

The decision to pursue conservation biology came after an incredible and intense 14 months of traveling through South America. There was no one moment or epiphany, no strike of clarity, just a slow and steady increase in awareness that I needed to work with the environment. The Andes, the Amazon, the deserts, the salt flats, the coasts, they were all too extraordinary to be mere tourist attractions and certainly too important to be under threat.

When I returned home, I researched different programs and fields and decide to apply to a master’s degree in conservation biology, a field focused on the study and protection of biodiversity in all its forms, from the tiny gene to the earth’s massive biospheres. It is a crisis discipline inherently interdisciplinary in character, pulling from the fields of economics, biological sciences, and politics and extending even into subjects such as philosophy, anthropology, education, humanities and the arts (Soule 1985). It is a value-laden, goal-orientated science, with the preservation of biodiversity as its core (Meine et al 2006), claiming humans are stewards of the earth and thus obligated to protect and care for our planet’s inhabitants and biological systems.

The program I enrolled in had three main tracts: science-based, policy-based and education-based. Science was cataloguing and detailing all the problems; it was surveying the earth and distilling the interactions between animals and their ecosystems that were causing biodiversity loss. Of these, habitat fragmentation, invasive species, over exploitation, over population and climate change consistently rate as the most devastating. Policy, in theory, uses this information as basis for efforts in governing our interactions with the environment, for example, by implementing national parks, pollution taxes, and biological trading restrictions. Finally, education efforts focus their energy on how to teach students the science and understanding of the issues we face today.

As I had studied psychology and philosophy as an undergraduate, I decided to take post-baccalaureate courses in evolution, environmental biology and conservation biology to help me apply my knowledge. Perhaps there was an element of being back in an intellectual setting after three years that contributed to my excitement at the time, but I loved the classes I was taking and was eager to start a program. However, when I applied and was accepted to an MA program in New York City, I was overcome by a huge wave of uncertainty. At first, I chalked it up to commitment phobias and being daunted by the work load that lay ahead; but well into the second semester, I was still feeling (perhaps even more strongly) this great uncertainty about what I was doing.

Children creating works of art to help nurture an appreciation of the natural world

Yes, I loved science and I loved reading and learning about science, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to do science. Equally, I was hesitant toward policy. Although policy-based efforts are exceedingly important in protecting biodiversity and abating its loss, essentially I saw them as forms of activism, away from which I have historically shied. Finally, the education tract, although perhaps the most appealing to me, was given such little weight within the program that I did not seriously consider it.

It took me a good few months of struggling with this uncertainty before I realized what was truly bothering me. None of the tracts addressed the issues I thought were at the root of today’s environmental challenges. They all seemed to propose Band-Aid solutions to wound with much deeper causes. It seemed evident that no matter how many studies we did and no matter how many parks we created, modern environmental issues would continue to persist so long as we didn’t address what was behind the human behaviors that led to those issues in the first place. Why do humans fragment habitats, spread species, exploit resources and over populate? What perceptions and concepts do we have of the environment that lay at the foundation of our beliefs and behaviors?

Indeed, it was perplexing to me that a program in conservation biology, a field founded on the charge of conserving biodiversity and inherently interdisciplinary in nature, would not have been structured to address these questions. My program, however, was not special in this regard. Although conservation biology flaunts a multi-disciplinary intersection of the humanities and hard sciences, historically it has actually been dominated by hard science topics such as vertebrates, forests, landscapes, and single species, while showing a distinct dearth in interdisciplinary studies (Fazey et al. 2005).

Initially, I didn’t know exactly what to do. Although my intentions had changed, I had put a lot of time and energy into getting into this program and didn’t feel comfortable dropping out. At the same time, I couldn’t full-heartedly engage with it as it was.

Art provides humans with a way to creatively express our own feelings about nature

Whilst dragging my feet academically, and perhaps in reaction to the heavily science-based program, I started rediscovering my love of art. I began taking drawing and painting classes and started doing performance art. I took welding courses, began doing carpentry and started assisting a sculptor in Brooklyn. I even turned my apartment into a gallery filled with the work of friends and other artists and opened it to the public for a month. Very quickly I began living almost two separate lives: a very academic and insular one and a very hands-on and extroverted one. These two aspects, in theory, could have worked to balance each other; however, they made me feel even more torn. I had one foot in the door of science and the other in the door of art, one pushing me to ignore my feelings and the other listening only to my feelings. Indeed, far from feeling balanced, I felt of two minds. It was a very tumultuous and difficult period, and I struggled with these seemingly opposing interests for some time.

Not until a year into my program did I realized the only way I could move forward and still remain engaged in my degree (and not loose my mind!) was by combining the two. I was lucky enough to have an advisor who genuinely understood and felt my struggle and who was open enough to allow me the academic space and support to pursue this intersection fully.

My interest in art’s role in conservation biology stemmed from my initial issues with the programs composition: Although the discipline of conservation biology claims to be an interdisciplinary field, it is mainly based within the hard sciences. So many of the problems we face today, however, are caused by our day-to-day interactions, which in turn are caused by the perceptions we have of our environment and by how we understand our relationship to nature. Art, it seemed, had the ability to play a great role, not only in raising awareness about the environment but also in challenging our current views and concepts of nature.

Along with another student in the department, I began investigating the notion that artists and scientists might profit from collaboration. The argument ran as such: scientists offer a wealth of detailed and factual information, while artists have an ability to illustrate and convey that information in a poignant, accessible and engaging manner. Art is free of the structures so stringently imposed upon the sciences and can explore new and creative ways of engaging a wide and varied population of people. These collaborations, therefore, have the potential to instigate beneficial behavioral changes both within the individual and the community by making our environmental issues at once more accessible and more moving.

Children, especially, can use paintings, crafting, drawing, sculpting and other media to foster appreciation for conservation

However, it soon became clear that this collaboration, as wonderful as it sounded on paper, often did not amount to the accolade it promised. Although there are certainly a number of passionate and insightful studies addressing these connections, art-science projects are frequently dismissed as not being artsy enough for the art community or science-y enough for the science community, in the end falling upon the eyes and ears of a very small subsection of people already interested in what these studies have to say.

My research into the connections between art and conservation helps me advise artists interested in environmental issues to allow these challenges to influence their art, rather than guide it, and equally to urge scientists not to compromise their methodologies in an effort to be more artsy; but these ideas are still extremely young and nascent. Far from negating art’s role in the conservationist’s plight, I believe my research highlights the notion that conservation biology is and needs to be a truly interdisciplinary field. How we envision the future of conservation biology will alter the number and type of people willing to contribute and engage with our environmental issues. The urgency required in our efforts and the ubiquity of threat across cultures and land is so vast that conservation biology would only profit from expanding its boundaries to include more seriously the humanities and the arts. It need not be a sub-discipline of biology, as it is often envisioned, but rather a discipline of its own accord.

The artistic pieces created during the Youth Biodiversity Art Project were displayed in an exhibit at the Taos Plaza

Incorporating art into the field of conservation biology will be a long and slow task, yet there are a number of simple and obvious steps that can help facilitate this change. Department curriculum can be modified to include classes such as environmental or ecological art, green sculpture, green design, environmental film making and creative writing classes. These classes would not only help conservation biologists think of how to present their work in other mediums but would also cultivate a different type of relationship between scientists and their research. What if mid-term and final projects in conservation biology classes took the form of art projects instead of essays or tests? Being forced to exercise alternate creative faculties of the mind, students might gain insight into the causes and solutions of our most pressing environmental issues in innovative ways. It would also emphasize the idea that conservation biology is a goal-orientated discipline, not a hard science in and of itself.

Science and academic journals focused on conservation can also begin to include essays, intervention proposals and research papers written by artists engaged with biodiversity loss. This will bring different views and thought processes into heretofore heavily hard-science dominated settings, offering different perspectives from which to address the goals of conservation. Articles written by artists and by ecologists should be side by side in publications proponing to represent the state of modern environmentalism and natural resource management. Integrating art into conservation biology journals will familiarize artists and scientists with each other’s works, facilitating a more effortless progression of exchange.

Far from diluting the thrust of conservation biology, these simple actions will instead extend its reach, amplifying its influence and offering greater potential to create lasting change. Indeed, it behooves the conservation biology community to welcome artists whole-heartedly and openly into their field of study, for the more disciplines conservation biology embraces, the stronger a force it will become. Why should the fight for biodiversity take place on a limited platform when so many other spheres of influence are available and willing to contribute? Is not the widening of their reach proportional to the efficacy of their actions?

– Nezam Ardalan

If you too are interested in becoming a citizen eco-reporter, contact Izilwane at: ExecDirector@izilwane.org.

Sources

Fazey, I., J. Fischer, and D. B. Lindenmayer. “What Do Conservation Biologists Publish?” Biological Conservation 124, no. 1 (2005): 63-73.

Meine, C., and M. SoulÈ. “” A Mission-Driven Discipline”: The Growth of Conservation Biology.” Conservation Biology 20, no. 3 (2006): 631-51.

Roberge, Jean-Michel, Grzegorz Mikusinski, and Hugh P. Possingham. “Has the term” conservation biology” had its day?.” Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment 8, no. 3 (2010): 121-121.

Soule, M. E. “What Is Conservation Biology?” BioScience (1985): 727-34.

Many wildlife conservationists and respected ecotourism operators advocate that tourism can help save this iconic predator, Panthera tigris. They argue that the presence of tourists helps keep away poachers from important habitat. Furthermore, some proactive tour operators, such as Wildland Adventures, put portions of their profits toward conservation and social programs in the countries to which they travel.

Photo Courtesy of Keith Roper

Sanjay Gubbi, tiger program coordinator for the well-respected conservation organization Panthera, has said that, “India’s wildlife tourism industry benefits communities by stimulating local economies and providing employment.” Many also believe that tiger tourism helps inspire travelers to support conservation efforts and create personal connections between tourists and wildlife; however, there is still much more to do to encourage visitors to deepen their relationship with these animals.

Ajay Dubey, a conservationist who works with Prayatna, believes tiger tourism as currently practiced in India is a threat to the big cats. Panthera’s Gubbi notes that many tourism operations adhere to “unethical safari practices.” In some preserves, lodges have been built in key tiger habitat, and the cats are further stressed by large numbers of Jeeps overcrowding them.

Photo Courtesy of Roman Stanek

Dubey recently took the Indian government to court to spur improvements in how tiger tourism is managed in the country. This lawsuit has divided many people on both sides of the argument, and whether the final ruling — which reversed the ban on tourism in core sections of India’s 41 preserves — will improve the situation is yet to be seen. The hope is that the grievances that spurred the original ban have led to better managements strategies for these rare habitats.

One point on which both sides of the argument agree is the severity of the situation. Most assessments estimate approximately 3,000 tigers remaining in the wild across Asia, with about 1,700 existing in India. These numbers indicate more than a 50 percent decline over the past decade in tiger populations and are why they are currently listed as endangered by the IUCN’s Red List. The main reason for this decline however, is not tourism but poaching. Tiger skins and body parts can bring thousands of dollars on the black market.

I have spent most of the past decade working on improving how tourism benefits the efforts to protect endangered sea turtles. While these two animals and their conservation methods are very different, many of the same principles apply. For tourism to work, it must be done in a way that minimizes damage to key habitat, prevents unnecessary stress on the animals, and generates concrete benefits to both conservation programs and nearby communities.

Photo Courtesy of Bill Weaver

The recent ruling by the Indian Supreme Court on Prayatna’s lawsuit has the potential to improve how tourism is managed in the country. Unfortunately, people on both sides of the argument were disappointed in the lack of strong regulations to protect tigers in the decision. Julian Matthews of Travel Operators for Tigers stated that, “Sadly there is nothing in these guidelines that gives anyone… a legal ‘road map’ as to how they (the forests) can be restored.” The primary responsibility for ending the construction of infrastructure is now in the hands of the state governments, which have been given six months to develop new tourism and conservation guidelines.

Tour operators have a strong responsibility to advocate not only for regulations that will allow their businesses to grow but also to make compromises that keep the best interests of the tigers in mind. If real changes aren’t made to both improve tourism management and reduce poaching, tourism businesses and local communities will suffer alongside these charismatic animals.

– Brad Nahill

Brad Nahill is a wildlife conservationist, writer, activist, and fundraiser. He is the Director & Co-Founder of SEEtheWILD, the world’s first non-profit wildife conservation travel website.  To date, we have generated more than $300,000 for wildlife conservation and local communities and our volunteers have completed more than 1,000 work shifts at sea turtle conservation project. SEEtheWILD is a project of The Ocean Foundation. Follow SEEtheWILD on Facebook or Twitter.

Learn more:

Travelers interested in visiting India’s tiger reserves should seek out tour operators that both minimize impacts on tigers and support conservation efforts.

Learn facts about tigers and tiger conservation tourism at SEEtheWILD.

Travel Operators for Tigers has developed a rating system for operators, lodges, and other tourism businesses.

Read about a recent visit to India’s National Parks to see tigers in WildHope Magazine and check out a tiger conservation photo essay by award-winning photographer Steve Winter.

http://india.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/07/25/a-conversation-with-tiger-activist-ajay-dubey/

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/288721/uproar-tiger-tourism.html

http://articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2012-11-01/flora-fauna/34856504_1_areas-of-tiger-reserves-dudhwa-national-park-buffer-area

http://zeenews.india.com/exclusive/tiger-a-battle-for-survival_5797.html

http://www.toftigers.org/NewsItem/tourism%20ban%20lifted%20%20toft%20comments%20on%20judgement

All Photos Courtesy of Justin May/Interwoven

Multicolored quarter-sized candy wrappers, amassed by the fist full, were slipping through my gloves on my thirtieth trip to the trash bag in the corner of the lot. I crouched again, my dirty knees hovering above the aged, twisted plastic, the remnants of a bygone lunch I had yet to excavate. Ten other swift and lively pairs of hands were similarly occupied: digging, manning hoes, rakes, and shovels, or tossing mounds of grass and earth over stonewalls on the periphery, and occasionally pausing to wipe beaded brows. We had already relocated cumbersome hunks of limestone, yanked out innumerable, sturdy weeds with stubborn rhizomes, and now we were tilling the earth only to find trash compacted thick as roots, extending at least a meter downward.

FNPF volunteers clearing the lot behind the junior high school

We were in the middle of a garbage pit; a mini landfill for the junior high school directly before us windows framing curious faces, bemused with disbelief as we toiled in a forgotten corner of their campus.

It was hard to imagine that in just a few days this yard – teeming with the remnants of a thousand snack times – would be transformed into an organic garden and teaching space, and yet, that is exactly what happened.

The work was being headed by young adults from around the world, volunteering for the Friends of the National Park Foundation (FNPF) on a small island off the coast of Bali, Indonesia. The island is a biological and cultural treasure, basically immune from all the trappings of Western culture, minus a conspicuous waste management problem. Mike Appleton, a long-time volunteer of FNPF, told us when we arrived that we would be lending our time to the new organic garden project on the island. Having received the funding to sow and reap ten pilot plots, Mike wanted to show islanders how a garden could be started literally anywhere. Hence the candy-wrappers.

Mike Appleton, long-standing manger of FNPF's projects on Nusa Penida

What is particularly interesting about this plan is that the island, Nusa Penida, is veiled in porous, limestone-based soil which is notoriously difficult to cultivate . There is also a lack of local agricultural know-how. Long-term farming cooperatives never took root on the island. This spit of land off the coast of mainland Bali is where prisoners were thrown during the Klungkung dynasty; a sort of Alcatraz for political prisoners, delinquents and thieves — and even evil spirits. (Read Part I for a more in-depth explanation.)

Instead, over the years, island-wide subsistence based farming became absent in the face of a somewhat lucrative and steady production of seaweed: the cash crop of the island. The majority of food eaten on the island is imported regularly from Bali – minus mangos, coconuts, and jackfruit, which appear in copious amounts during their respective seasons – and recently, the exchange has been strained…

In January of 2012, Nusa Penida was hit with unusual and destructive weather patterns. The FNPF center, based around sea level and about a kilometer from the tide, was completely flooded, while a small, freak tornado whipped through the interior forests of the island. The twelve kilometers of sea between Bali and Nusa Penida became rough, blustery and treacherous. Food shipments typically arriving by boat were delayed. Such unpredictably severe storms, combined with rising fuel costs, have Mike concerned and islanders anxious about future food security. If Nusa Penida, the poorest district in the Klungkung regency of Bali, cannot find more self-sufficient pathways for food procurement, the health of the people may be at risk. This is especially true if climate change projections are correct and tempestuous weather becomes an increasingly formidable intruder.

Saplings are free for the taking at the FNPF headquarters

On the bright side, the track record of planting on Nusa Penida is a good one. In an effort to reforest areas of Nusa Penida that were cleared during its history as a penal colony, eighteen different tree species have been planted in numbers of about 18,000 a season since 2009. There have been high rates of success: around 80% of all saplings survive. FNPF constantly monitors the health of reforestation sites and quickly resolves any threats to growth. For example, in the summer of 2009, newly planted seedlings were withering away due to a continuous and unrelenting heat wave that had begun in March of that year. FNPF was resourceful: various amelioration techniques were employed, including watering the plants, loosening the soil, and administering mulch. As a result, the plants survived.

In an effort to capitalize on the importance of the sense of community ownership of their local environment, mass planting events are often scheduled to correspond with Hindu rituals during which flora and fertility are especially sacred themes. The ancient Hindu philosophy of Tri Hita Karana breathes meaning into FNPF’s presence and practices on the island, a philosophy that literally translates as three harmonies: harmony between people and God, people and people, and people with the environment.

A resident of Nusa Penida breaks the ground at an organic garden pilot plot

Some flora and fauna on the island are considered sacred in and of themselves. The orange coconut, prized for its color, is reserved for use only during important Hindu ceremonies. Trees wrapped with the meaningful black and white checkered saput poleng cloth, representative of the binary forces of the universe, are thought to contain plant spirits. These ethereal layers of reality, combined with community benefits provided by FNPF, such as education scholarships for local students and a community library, foster a copacetic relationship.

Similar protocol has been used to stimulate the budding organic farming venture. Before ground is even broken, nearby villages are invited to attend a meeting describing the location and benefits of the gardens. Information on organic composting and agroforestry are offered at the FNPF center, and those with the desire to begin their own organic gardens are provided with training and the necessities to get started. FNPF Headquarters maintains a nursery packed with thousands of free saplings – teak, papaya, and coffee plants are popular selections. Once products in the nursery and the pilot gardens become ripe, locals are encouraged to harvest the yields and distribute them to friends, family, and neighbors. In the long run, Mike hopes that introducing organic farming can transform farming habits, improve nutrition, lower food prices, and possibly offer alternative revenue to the seaweed farming industry.

Farmers collect an average of 40 to 50 tons of seaweed each harvest, but significant price fluctuations impact their profit margins. Several different seaweed species are harvested on Nusa Penida. Spinosum ranges in price between Rp 2,000 and Rp 2,900 per kilogram (around 0.20 USD), and cottoni between Rp 4,000 to Rp 5,300 per kilogram (around 0.50 USD). After the harvest, which happens around every 35-45 days year round, farmers lay their seaweed under the sun for two to three days, depending on the season. During the wet season, drying can last up to a week.

Aerial view of Nusa Penida. The patchwork designs off the coast are seaweed plots. Photo courtesy of Google Earth.

Dried seaweed is sold to traders, who sell the crop to Surabaya, East Java, and other large industrial centers for processing before being exported. This stage is where the real value adding takes place. Some seaweed will be processed into food, while some will end up in high-end cosmetics or pharmaceuticals that can sell for hundreds of dollars with profits accumulating at the end of the production line. Overall, the seaweed industry has had a positive impact on the island, but there is a worry that exclusive dependence on a volatile market leaves farmers economically vulnerable. Diversifying livelihoods by selling organic produce, and introducing subsistence agriculture could help Nusa Penida become more resilient and self-sufficient.

During a conversation with a man named Putu who lived in the village of Crystal Bay, I asked if he planned to use any of the resources from FNPF this summer. He led me to his house, and showed me progress he was making on an ornate, stone temple in his backyard. Hints of geometric spires and Hindu gods were slowly but surely emerging from the concrete. It was coming along nicely. “If I had more time, perhaps I would go to FNPF for plants like coffee or some herbs. For now, I am very busy building this temple for my family.” The roads on Nusa Penida are badly paved, crumbling, and marred with potholes, making the trek to FNPF a long and tedious one. Other residents of Nusa Penida cited financial risk as a disincentive for growing organically. However, plans to deliver saplings to peoples’ doorsteps and the successful harvest of pilot gardens may convert more islanders in the coming months.

Putu's wife and daughter cook coconut oil

“Everyone between the ages of six and sixty can climb a coconut tree in this village,” the temple-builder remarked with a smile. Nearby, his wife was stirring a large vat of coconut meat. In just a few hours, the mixture would yield several bottles’ worth of an unmolested, virgin coconut oil. No chainsaws, electricity, or chemicals were used during the process. This mentality of maintaining a holistic relationship with the nature already exists in various forms throughout Nusa Penida. It maintains a reputable status as an unofficial bird sanctuary – the Bali Starling, technically extinct elsewhere, thrives undisturbed among the coconut trees — and sensational diving haven flanked by the bleached, empty coral around mainland Bali. These signals bode well for the future of their organic agriculture sector.

Although the island struggles with poverty, crumbling roads, and a lack of waste management infrastructure, FNPF is quietly transforming Nusa Penida into a sustainability model that could inform similar island communities across the planet. It is rather remarkable that 43 villages that largely live hand-to-mouth can agree upon a customary law to protect endangered birds that would normally be sold on the black market for thousands of dollars. It is inspirational to hear from young people that, although they have to find work on the Balinese mainland, they come home to see their families every weekend and want to protect their homeland from the unplanned development they see in nearby tourist hotspots. It is enchanting to walk among ancient Banyan trees, clad with checkered cloth and animate with spirit life. Most of all, it is humbling to encounter people who understand the irreplaceable connection humans maintain with encompassing ecosystems. These lessons have a place beyond the shores of this island.

Crystal Bay, a beach on Nusa Penida

Systematically throughout history, those in power have removed elements of the sacred from the natural world in order to turn mountains of the gods into artificial canyons striped for gold. Even in a secular reality, how can we disregard the merit inherent within billions of years of evolution in favor of technologies and ways of being that destroy the very processes that sustain us? For 95% of human history, humans lived in communion with the earth as nomadic foragers. Now partitions between humans and nature, both culturally and unconsciously erected, blind us to the answers we so fervently seek in the face of food crises and climate change. Anyone who believes nature to be simple and passé has never regarded a scintillating, kaleidoscopic coral reef at dawn, delicately arranged in spiraling layers and pulsing with a masquerade of buoyant vivacity against which the most technologically advanced high-rise neighborhoods pale. Perhaps those who view the earth as an expendable rung in an ever-advancing linear quest toward the “modern” have never beheld this rhythmic microcosm, this immaculate apotheosis of life. Amongst chaos, nature is most resilient in the state of equilibrium. It is how we survive, slowly spinning within a verdurous marble in the sparse, life-less expanse of space. Is it, then, such a flawed model to emulate? It certainly resides within the philosophy of permaculture and organic farming. If anywhere has a chance of successfully adopting these both equally new and ancient farming practices, it is the unique island of Nusa Penida.

If you too are interested in becoming a citizen eco-reporter, contact Izilwane at: ExecDirector@izilwane.org.

Photo Courtesy of Brad Nahill

Compared with its neighbors in Central America, El Salvador is a prime case study of the impact of damaged habitat on wildlife. The country has more coffee plantations than native forest, which is estimated to be less than five percent of the original forest cover. Less than three percent of its land and one percent of its ocean are protected. Well-known animals, including jaguars and scarlet macaws, are widely considered extinct within El Salvador’s borders.

In the hopes of reversing the tide of wildlife loss, the government of El Salvador enacted a ban (known in Spanish as a veda) on the consumption, sale, and possession of sea turtles, their eggs, and their parts for purposes other than conservation. As one of the last countries in the region to completely outlaw turtle consumption (Guatemala still allows egg collection), El Salvador’s actions represented a major step in protecting the thousands of sea turtle nests built on its coast each year.

Of the four species that nest here, the majority of nests are from threatened olive ridleys (Lepidochelys olivacea), which account for roughly 90 percent of all nests in El Salvador (more than 10,000 per year). The highest conservation priority in the country, however, is the critically endangered hawksbill (Eretmochelys imbricata), of which there are fewer than 500 adult females along the entire Pacific coast of the Americas. Jiquilisco Bay is one of only two major nesting areas for this turtle in the entire region (the other is Padre Ramos Estuary in Nicaragua), with more than 200 nests per season. The country also has nesting endangered green turtles (Chelonia mydas), with an estimated 200+ nests per year.

Before the ban, El Salvador had an estimated 4,000 people that collected the eggs to sale in markets of major cities like La Libertad and San Salvador, as well as in small towns along the coast. With this many people walking the beaches each night searching for nesting turtles, few nests were left untouched. While these tortugueros (as they’re called in the country) don’t completely depend on this money for survival, this revenue can be a significant amount in communities where the average income is about $200 per month.

Photo Courtesy of Brad Nahill

With so many people depending on the profits from selling turtle eggs, the government and conservationists have for decades used a strategy different from most other countries. Instead of putting beaches where turtles nest into protected areas and blocking them off from local residents, they created a network of hatcheries where the tortugueros are paid for bringing in the eggs that they find. At the hatcheries, the eggs are put into artificial nests and protected until they hatch and then the hatchlings are released into the ocean.

In 2009, the government, with support from the U.S Agency for International Development (USAID) and several conservation organizations, expanded the hatchery system across the coast. Tortugueros are paid $2.50 for every 14 eggs; olive ridley nests average 110 eggs per nest, so one can earn about $20 from a single nest.

I recently visited two of the sea turtle nesting beaches in El Salvador and had an opportunity to meet with several of the country’s leading turtle conservationists and a few tortugueros. My first night on the beach in a small town called Toluca was a bit surreal with the sheer number of people stationed along the waterline, waiting for the turtles to come up. I’m used to beaches in Costa Rica where the conservationists walk the beach and people collecting eggs avoid any contact.

Prior to heading out to the ocean, I sat in on a meeting between Enriqueta Ramirez, who leads the ViVAZUL project (an initiative of Fabien Cousteau’s organization Plant A Fish), and about 60 or so local tortugueros. She explained to this group, mostly men ranging from 18 to 60 years old, how the rules would be changing this season, with ID cards to be handed out to those who participate with the program.

Photo Courtesy of Brad Nahill

Afterward, I sat in on interviews with a number of the tortugueros to hear their opinions about collecting the eggs. While the older men looked at egg collecting as an important way to buy necessities, the younger ones seemed to look at it as a way to earn money for cell phone minutes or cigarettes. While many conservationists in the country believe that collecting eggs is a purely economic activity, Enriqueta believes there is a strong social pull to the activity, and the responses of the men mostly bore this out. They used the words “pastime,” “sport,” and “habit” to describe egg collecting and talked about building bonds with the other men.

The impact of the expanded payment program on the protection of turtle egg is been dramatic. In 2008, the year before the ban was established, roughly 180,000 eggs were saved. In 2009, the number jumped to one million eggs, and that number grew again to 1.5 million in 2010 and 2011, about 80 percent of all of the turtle eggs laid in the country. However, this stunning increase is primarily the result of the infusion of funds from USAID, not due to the law itself.

While the incentive program has resulted in a significant increase in protected eggs, the law itself has not been without controversy. The law was crafted behind closed doors with little input from the tortugueros or many of the conservation organizations working in the country. The law created tension among the communities and the conservation groups, who the local residents believed to have helped create the law. Conservationists support the law but say enforcement has been lacking since its passage.

I had a chance to speak with two Salvadorans who have a long relationship with sea turtles and their eggs. Don Vicente manages a hatchery in Toluca for ViVAZUL and has been running his hatchery for 18 years. He believes that the law has been a mixed blessing; while people now treat the turtles with more respect, many of the tortugueros who used to donate a dozen eggs for every nest they found now no longer participate and instead sell all of their eggs on the black market.

Photo Courtesy of Brad Nahill

Isaac, who sold turtle eggs on the black market for years, is now a local hatchery manager for ViVAZUL. He believes that his neighbors’ views have changed; before the law, the people didn’t realize they were hurting the turtle population by taking eggs and some people mistreated the turtles. Now, he says people have a longer-term view of the turtles. However, the law, in his opinion, still needs work to better incorporate the needs of the local communities.

While these conflicts mostly have been resolved, many conservationists believe that if the incentive program were to end, the eggs would end up back in the hands of illegal traders. Several of the country’s leading turtle conservationists are working on plans to address what to do when USAID funding ends in 2013. Some, like Enriqueta, believe that more emphasis must be placed on educational programs so people start to look at the turtles as a valuable part of nature instead of merely an income-generating resource.

One organization that works with hawksbills in Jiquilisco Bay, the Eastern Pacific Hawksbill Initiative (ICAPO), is developing alternatives to payments.

“The ban provides an important legal framework for sea turtle conservation in El Salvador,” says ICAPO’s El Salvador Director Michael Liles. “However, its success is tied to direct payments for egg protection in hatcheries, which is financially unsustainable and does little to foment a conservation ethic.”

“By adding non-economic incentives to egg protection,” he adds, “we can begin shifting local discourse and values placed on sea turtles from purely economic terms.”

Photo Courtesy of Brad Nahill

ICAPO has launched a competition called The Hawksbill Cup, which builds on the near-universal love of soccer to encourage the communities of Jiquilisco Bay and Padre Ramos to compete for bragging rights about who better protects their turtles. These two communities compete for the most number of nests protected, the percentage of eggs that hatch, and other factors. Michael has seen the impacts of the competition, currently set to start its second year, on the attitudes of the participants toward the turtles.

There is also hope of finding alternative sources of funding to keep the hatcheries open across the country. Ecotourism is being looked at as a way to bring in the funds needed to continue the incentive program. If local groups are able to bring travelers to these beaches to see turtles nest and hatch, it can both generate money to protect the eggs and bring in new income to these small rural communities. SEEtheWILD, a wildlife conservation travel organization, is working with organizations like ICAPO, ViVAZUL, and EcoViva to bring travelers and volunteers to El Salvador to contribute to turtle conservation efforts.

While it may seem far-fetched to fund the incentive program through tourism, the amount of money needed to purchase 80 percent of the country’s turtle eggs is less than $300,000 a year. With just $50 per traveler to this program, only 6,000 visitors per year are needed, fewer than the number of people at a big concert. Despite its troubles, El Salvador is now a stable country and is making significant progress in protecting its wildlife and reducing poverty. The ban on turtle consumption is a first step in bringing these delicate creatures back from the brink of extinction. The second step will be increased government enforcement, and with recent government crackdowns on the sale of hawksbill shell jewelry and turtle eggs, there is renewed hope for the sea turtles of El Salvador.

All photos are copyright protected and may not be used without permission. All photos are courtesy of Brad Nahill.

Brad Nahill is a wildlife conservationist, writer, activist, and fundraiser. He is the director & co-founder of SEEtheWILD, the world’s first non-profit wildlife conservation travel website. To date, they have generated more than $300,000 for wildlife conservation, and local communities and their volunteers have completed more than 1,000 work shifts at sea turtle conservation projects. SEEtheWILD is a project of The Ocean Foundation. Follow SEEtheWILD on Facebook or Twitter.

This article originally appeared on IZILWANE: http://www.izilwane.org/livin-la-veda-the-impact-of-el-salvadors-ban-on-consumption-of-sea-turtles.html

I Macaling was not completely subdued; his influence is formidable when he is angered. Those on the mainland blame the small landmass, just an hour’s boat ride from the cosmopolitan bustle of Bali, for disasters like floods and the proliferation of disease.  Negative associations don’t stop at black magic: the island was also the penal colony for criminal outcasts in the 18th century, and is generally thought to be dry and inhospitable. Why would it be so crucial to visit such a tainted place? The Balinese spiritual belief system, a unique hybrid of Buddhism, Hinduism, and animism, conceptualizes the universe in terms of balance, and respects both good and evil as equally necessary and mutually present. It remains then that the island is an important spiritual destination — but only when religious holidays dictate attendance.

I arrived on the shores of Nusa Penida this past summer, and when I hopped out of the boat, my feet were enveloped by warm, crystal clear waters, lapping softly onto ivory sand, speckled with pearlescent and crimson seashells. Bunches of unusual tropical fruits sat cool and inviting in the shade of the numerous warungs, or food stalls, along the beach. The wooden structures themselves were equally as snug and colorful in their seemingly endless arrangement, tapering off beneath the shadows of verdant cliffs. Mt. Agung, the tallest peak on Bali, filled the sky with quiet authority to the North, across a sea whose placid surface would occasionally scintillate with a rush of flying fish and betray the existence of kaleidoscopic reefs below. Exploring inland, I was greeted with more invigorating views, more revitalizing beaches, and a wealth of engaging, curious people. It would seem that the “curse” of Nusa Penida had actually become a blessing, and that this was one place on earth that, as the program manager of the conservation efforts on the island would put it, still had hope.

This profound optimism, shared by locals and ex-pat conservation volunteers alike, is the result of a unique blend of remarkable characteristics that are rarely encountered in synchrony elsewhere.

First of all. the island is a biological treasure-trove. The landmass is well known as an unofficial endangered bird sanctuary, and its surrounding waters have a stellar reputation among divers who can spend hours absorbed in the commotion of healthy and flourishing coral reefs. Scuba divers commonly encounter large marine species such as giant mantas, the Mola-Mola fish, and whale sharks. Recently, the area has garnered the attention of scientists eager to follow up on claims that previously un-catalogued species, like legless lizards and colorful species of crab, scuttle about undisturbed and “undiscovered”.

Secondly, the island’s relative isolation, the importance of traditional spirituality, and its lack of energy-intensive infrastructure foster a relatively tranquil atmosphere almost completely devoid of Western development. Hope exists in the kind-natured mentality of the local people, the area’s visible disconnect from many of the larger spoils of Westernization, and the almost complete lack of tourist infrastructure. I would even go so far as to say that this rare combination of immense natural beauty, inadvertent isolation, and cultural integrity have the ability to inspire people to believe there are places where capitalism can occupy a drowsy backdrop to more substantial principles of subsistence-living, environmental protection, and community.

A Bali starling

The organization on the island most inspired by its potential is small but hardy, much like the birds they rehabilitate. The Friends of the National Park Foundation (FNPF),is a non-profit organization founded by veterinarian and Bali native Bayu Wirayuda. Operating within the philosophy of community-based conservation, FNPF’s mission calls for the protection of local wildlife while simultaneously nurturing the people that respect conservation practices. The idea is to create relationships that by virtue of the welfare of individual life forms improve the wellbeing of the collective. Such a partnership has flourished in favor of one of Bali’s most charming birds – and its national emblem – the Bali Starling.

In his 2012 TED Talk, Dr. Bayu related his personal relationship with the Starling. His father, who had been a police officer, once confiscated several of the milky, plump birds, and Bayu, who admittedly spent an unusual amount of time around pet birds as a child, boldly asked if he could keep one himself. The answer was no, and his father explained, “These birds are illegal to own.” One Bali Starling can fetch up to $3,000 on the black market, a sum that can replace months of labor, and a figure poachers readily brave imprisonment for, Due to the insatiable demand for this bird’s capture, only ten Bali Starlings existed in the wild in 2005. Now, just seven years later, 200 Starlings fly freely on the island, and census reports from 16 separate locations continue to be positive. Nusa Penida is also a haven for Java Sparrows, Sulphur Crested Cockatoos, and Mitchell’s Lorakeets.

Ensuring island-wide participation in the sanctuary program was not a simple task. All forty-three villages were required to agree to an “awig-awig”, or a regulation that would be adhered to by virtue of local customary law. And, in true island fashion, it was a process drawn out by lengthy visits and return-visits to each village — which were often interrupted by practicalities such as ceremonies and deteriorating roads – which spanned a length of two years before consensus was reached. In return for the communities’ official and pain-stakingly organized vow to protect the birds, FNPF provides islanders with a library, school supplies for disadvantaged students, traditional Balinese dance classes, English classes, weekly clean-up days, free saplings of various tree species such as coffee and teak, and most recently, an array of organic community gardens, which I will address later.

Eco-tourism has also been suggested as a sustainable livelihood venture for local residents, but hasn’t yet “grown wings”. Given eco-tourism’s track record for inviting more garbage than good to previously undisturbed areas, the lack of widespread tourist infrastructure could be of more value to the island and provide space for an array of alternate livelihoods to be developed. (In the meantime however, foreign investors are already prospecting for plots of land that are suitable for modern resorts and spas, a process which has instilled a sense of anxiety in residents who don’t want their land to become another “Kuta”, an increasingly commercialized and touristy hot-spot on Bali, where the 2002 bombings took place.)

Seaweed beds

 The almost utopian qualities of this island are not unmarked by burdens, however. The local economy is almost completely reliant on seaweed harvests, where financial benefits are accumulated much farther down the production line, leaving people impoverished and dependent on a fluctuating market. Conversely, subsistence crops are noticeably absent, and Nusa Penida is forced to import almost all of its food supply from Bali. In a world where self-sufficiency is becoming increasingly necessary due to changing, unpredictable climates and the rising cost of fuel, the hope and optimism that Nusa Penida portrays in terms of environmental and cultural preservation will be tested by its very foundation: the sandy, limestone-based soil that narrowly blankets the land. Introducing organic crops, which are risky ventures in and of themselves, in an environment that does not easily lend itself to agriculture, asks a lot of families already living hand-to-mouth. FNPF is convinced however that the programs have potential, and has launched ten pilot projects across the island – a topic that will be explored more in depth in the next entry.

 Earlier this year, in January, Nusa Penida experienced unprecedented poor weather that consisted of thunderstorms, floods, tornados, and seas so tempestuous that food shipments were delayed. Dire circumstances such as these could increase in frequency as global warming progresses, transforming the people of Nusa Penida from rural villagers into “climate refugees” a categorization that, according to the Association of the Advancement of Science, is predicted to claim 50 million people by 2020.

According to Balinese-Hindu spiritual teachings, any energy with the potential for destruction has an equal and opposite potential for creation – a capacity that even a force as formidable as I Macaling inevitably possesses. This island currently occupies a gray space, as all communities do, lingering on the threshold of poverty, impending development in whatever form it will take, and quite possibly the elusive symbiotic, natural existence with the environment that so many imagine and search for. Here will play the eternal struggle between creation and destruction that mirrors the condition of life from the dawn of time. Personally, I am one of those who hope the people of Nusa Penida and their land weather storms, both literal and figurative, with the resourcefulness for which the Balinese are so famous, and with the blessings of the gods.

– Altaire Cambata

All Photos Courtesy of Interwoven

Check back soon for another installment in Indonesia Correspondent Altaire Cambata’s series on the specifics of the organic gardening program on Nusa Penida.

If you too are interested in becoming a citizen eco-reporter, contact Izilwane at: ExecDirector@izilwane.org.

[Cross-posted at blog.izilwane.org]

How does the slaughter of elephants happening now across Africa affect the innocence of children? For the makers of the film Lysander’s Song, they are inseparable. Cyril Christo and Marie Wilkinson’s five-year-old son Lysander was the inspiration for their project, a deeply-felt outcry against the illegal ivory trade. The rampant killing of these great leviathans of the earth has consequences beyond an animal’s death, rupturing into the heart of what makes us human. As Wilkinson pointed out, “Children are the best part of us.”

Christo and Wilkinson are a husband and wife team devoted to documenting the beauty of the iconic creatures who share our world and the terrible toll of their loss. Their book, Walking Thunder: In the Footsteps of the African Elephant is a gorgeous tribute, its black and white prints evoking the vanishing herds, like photographs from a forgotten time. But the spike in the numbers of elephants being killed by poachers is reaching devastating proportions. Christo and Wilkinson’s film is an urgent call for global action.

“What needs to be brought to the world’s attention is that the elephant killing has to stop, because the future of childhood is at stake. For their sanity, their wonder, for us not to tell them this is where the wild things were.” Christo’s dark curls mobbed his forehead above round, Potterish glasses and searching eyes. His passion ignited, Christo took me on the journey of the elephant in its mythic, cultural, psychological and spiritual connections to our own species. As a poet and filmmaker, Christo’s language is filled with images and associations evoking the luminous heart of human experience, that which gives it meaning. The deaths and possible extinction of these “walking whales” has far greater consequences for humanity than we can fathom. “From hell’s heart I stab at thee,” Christo quoted from Moby Dick. Like Ahab, in killing the elephant, we kill a vital part of ourselves.
Wilkinson is a measured counterpoint to her husband’s exuberance. She is quieter, resolved, her personal warmth coming across even as she described the commodification of animals that permits their destruction. Explaining the creative difference that animates their partnership, she said, “I think we come from two separate approaches. Cyril is always trying to find the universal ideal and raise it up in a poetic way, and I am trying to find those poetic ideals and bring them back down to a pragmatic, practical, accessible way.”

Wilkinson and Christo’s investigation of the effects of species loss, climate change and globalization deepened through the time they spent with indigenous peoples learning the clashing world views of extractive mining industries versus a storied and ensouled connection to the land. They spent six years studying herders, “cattle people” from Ethiopia through Eastern Africa and down to Southern Africa. “Our peers who are considered “primitive” we consider as holding the knowledge of our future survival. And we are dismissing it,” Marie said.

“We started to learn about the justice system among the Kikuyu,” Marie added, “and their use of the atlas bone of the elephant, which is the largest vertebrae, as an embodiment of ultimate truth. You can’t lie in front of the atlas bone. When there is a dispute going on, first the two try to work it out, then the family tries to work it out, then the community, then the larger community does, then the judges or elders do. If that doesn’t work, then the atlas bone comes out. Because of its unique form, it holds some sort of inherent truth.”

“Elephant” in Hebrew, Christo says, comes from the same root as the verb “to wonder.”

That creature in its powerful stature is the spark of wonder to the imagination of childhood and everything in us that yearns toward awe. “Lysander, when he says ‘aaahh’ in wonder about something, it is literally the life breath, the anima, an incredible connection to the life beat.” There is no animal with a greater presence in human history, its mythos representing “the ability to realize our own power and be free.” If we lose the elephant and other of the great four-leggeds, Christo warned, “Something will happen that is irrefragable, irretrievable, irreducible: we will not be fully human. Something will start to corrode in the human soul and heart.” The time to act is now to save all endangered species, especially the elephants, wolves, tigers, dolphins, apes, polar bears. We are veering toward ultimate loss. Christo calls it The Crucifix Moment.

If we do not act, we will lose the combined physical and ecological presence of the great creatures, the elephant, whales and other species within their habitats – which Christo and Wilkinson call the horizontal plane. The vertical plane of the crucifix is the intangible loss of their moral, social and spiritual connection to humankind throughout time.

In March 2012, more than 450 elephants were killed in Cameroon’s Bouba N’Djidia National Park. Tusks were carved away and strapped to the horses of marauding Sudanese invaders, the bodies of the elephants left to rot in the sun. President Paul Biya finally authorized military intervention in the park, but by then, more than half of the indigenous elephant population had been killed. A month later, in April 2012, helicopter-borne poachers massacred 22 elephants, hacking off their tusks and genitals, in Garamba National Park in the Democratic Republic of Congo.

According to an analysis by the conservation organization Tusk Trust, up to 35,000 elephants were slaughtered in 2011, roughly 10 percent of the entire population in Africa. If the killing continues at this rate, there will be no more elephants roaming the plains and forests of Africa by 2020. This is the price of greed for white gold, the blood gold: ivory.

The demand for ivory is insatiable. Alex Shoumatoff, in his heartbreaking article for Vanity Fair titled “Agony and Ivory,” bears witness to the slaughter, and traces the illegal trade from point of killing to smuggling routes, to fraud at point of sale. He states that an average of 45,000 pounds of ivory is seized annually, representing 3600 elephants. That is the tip of the iceberg.

Since 2004, the African elephant has been listed as Vulnerable to Extinction, as a warning flag from the International Fund for Animal Welfare, an organization that tracks threatened species around the world. But the virulent epidemic of poaching is getting worse. Local tribespeople who formerly protected the elephants are succumbing to the profit from ivory. Professional poachers transgress borders and laws.

It is a holocaust.

Christo and Wilkinson’s film Lysander’s Song brings together the elephant and childhood. Elephants figure hugely in children’s imaginative repertoire. Marie listed some: “Babar, Baggypants, Dumbo, Horton – the big, loveable creature. They each embody a different aspect of the elephant – Babar being the most diverse and wisest.”
Addressing the issue of poaching from the point of view of children highlights the shocking contrast of innocence and murder. For adults with our own overwhelmed compassion – crammed with information and exposure to global injustice – childhood is the way to connect deeply with this endangered species.

Christo said, “At the end of our film, a ranger, a guard, says something very very very special – and he knows, because his grandfather was killed by an elephant, and you’d think he would be angry, but no, he’s out in force knowing that was an accident, and it could happen. At the end of the film he says, ‘a world without elephants is like a world without oxygen.’”

Read the full article on Izilwane here.

To purchase some of Christo and Wilkinson’s amazing photos seen here, please visit our photo gallery On the Wild Plains.  All images are copyright protected and may not be reproduced without permission. Photos are courtesy of Cyril Christo and Marie Wilkinson.

– By Zoe Krasney

African elephant - image courtesy of Cyril Christo

2011 marked the worst year for elephant poaching and illegal ivory trading since the height of the trade in the 1980s, according to the UK-based Environmental Investigation Agency (EIA).  Following this lamentable news, both the British Parliament and the US Congress held hearings to address possible steps that the United Kingdom and the United States, respectively, could take to curb the effects of what seems to be a growing problem.

The Congressional hearing, titled “Ivory and Insecurity: The Global Implications of Poaching in Africa,” was held on May 24, 2012, with Massachusetts Senator John Kerry (D) presiding (watch the full proceedings here).

After Senator Kerry introduced the panel, Iain Douglas-Hamilton, founder and CEO of Save the Elephants, an organization working in Nairobi, Kenya, thanked the United States for its support in the past and urged the support to continue, especially given the upsurge in poaching. “What’s happening to the elephants is outrageous, and the more so since we have been through these ivory crises before and should have found solutions by now,” he remarked.

And while Douglas-Hamilton mentioned in May that the issue was not yet “on the radar” of people in the United States yet, The New York Times reported recently that two jewelers were found guilty for smuggling and dealing ivory-made jewelry.

The reason for this sudden upsurge in illegal ivory trading, and by extension the poaching of elephants? East Asian markets that are sympathetic to ivory trading.

Particularly in China, where the market is thriving, laws concerning ivory trade still exist only to regulate trade. In other words, ivory trading is still permissible by law.  Naturally, when there is a continuing demand for ivory products, there also exists a black market for it, leading to the slaughter of unsuspecting gentle giants in Africa.

For wildlife enthusiasts and nature lovers, the elimination of poaching is a logical and necessary part of preserving these majestic, endangered animals. But others, not motivated by the same causes, may need more incentives to take action against poaching. Tom Cardamone, managing director of Global Financial Integrity, provided such an incentive at the Congressional hearing. He spoke extensively of the toll that allowing poaching for ivory to continue unchecked would have on the global climate, beyond financial repercussions.

Most countries that have anti-poaching laws only collect small fines and require even smaller prison terms as punitive measures. But the monetary value of trading ivory is very high, comparable to narcotics trading. According to Cardamone, this favorable relationship between risk and reward makes poaching an “extremely lucrative business in which to engage.” Furthermore, the high profit margins of ivory poaching and trading make it more appealing to organizations that are otherwise hard-pressed for money, organizations such as Al-Qaeda and other terrorist and criminal networks.

The final witness in the hearing was John E. Scanlon, secretary-general of the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES). He informed the people gathered at the hearing on the challenges that CITES faces when dealing with an issue as widespread as poaching. He also spoke of the measures currently in place to tackle the problem, such as surveillance and tracking of illegal ivory. While he touched upon the financial and criminal implications of not acting to mitigate poaching, he also emphasized the audience of the importance of gathering intelligence.

“The depth of analysis of wildlife crime is poor in comparison to that of other areas of illicit trade,” said Scanlon. He cited the analysis of illicit drug trades by the United Nations Office of Drugs and Crime as an example. “There is a need for a more systematic and thorough global analysis of the illicit trade in wildlife,” he said. Only then could we truly begin to implement proper trafficking techniques.

While a congressional hearing spotlighting ivory trading and poaching may seem like a step in the right direction, the sad fact is that the burden to protect wildlife largely remains on countries in which there are no naturally occurring herds of elephants (or other ivory-wielding animals, such as rhinos). The people that truly need to take charge of the movement are, unfortunately, the people who are complicit in the illegal trade. For now, it remains to be seen what legislation will come out of Congress to help the effort ━ and if implementing any such legislation will indeed aid in putting an end to the devastating practice of ivory poaching and trading.

– Shraddha Chakradhar

 If you too are interested in becoming a citizen eco-reporter, contact Izilwane at: ExecDirector@izilwane.org.

[Cross-posted at blog.izilwane.org]

 When you get the opportunity to tag along with some of the world’s leading turtle conservationists to put satellite tags on possibly the planet’s most endangered sea turtles, the only response is “Yes!” and to start looking at airfares. For ten days, I will travel with a small, diverse group of people to visit four key sea turtle habitats in two countries. We will put transmitters on turtles at three of the sites, attend turtle festivals and meet local residents working to support conservation programs.

Brad Nahill - photo by Neil Ever Osborne

I am the Director and Co-Founder SEEtheWILD, a project of The Ocean Foundation and the world’s first non-profit wildlife conservation travel website. To date, we have generated more than $300,000 for wildlife conservation and local communities, and our volunteers have completed more than 1,000 work shifts at sea turtle conservation project.

An African clawed frog - image credit – Flickr user C-Monster (C-Monster.net)

Various scientific studies have shown that frogs that come in contact with the herbicide are often born hermaphroditic, which threatens frog populations and brings up further questions about the safety of the herbicide for humans. According to a study at the University of California, Berkley, roughly 75 percent of male African clawed frogs exposed to atrazine were unable to reproduce because they lacked testosterone. Without testosterone, these frogs could not make sperm and had zero chance of successful reproduction.

 Aside from the issues of endangering dwindling frog and amphibian populations, and negatively impacting ecosystems in the United States – questions pertaining to the herbicide’s safety in general continue to be brought to the table.

Research has linked atrazine exposure to immunosuppression in frogs, reproductive defects in fish, and prostate and breast cancers in rodents.  Some epidemiological studies suggest atrazine could potentially be carcinogenic in humans. Furthermore, once atrazine is introduced to an environment, it is difficult to get rid of. Atrazine remains in the environment at detectable levels for more than a decade. Even if the herbicide were to be banned today, its negative effects could be felt for years to come.

Unfortunately, atrazine is one of the world’s most popular herbicides, and it is commonly found in water sources throughout the United States. Around 80 million pounds of this herbicide is applied annually to agricultural products in the United States. Today’s controversy stems from the Environmental Protection Agency’s (EPA) recent decision to discuss banning the herbicide.

 

Graphic via NYT: Debating How Much Weed Killer Is Safe in Your Water Glass, Published: August 22, 2009

 

Atrazine is produced by Syngenta, a Swiss agrochemical corporation, and it has been banned in the European Union since 2005. The EPA has tried to ban atrazine in the past but according to activists, Syngenta inundated the EPA with lobbyists and held private meetings to thwart any efforts to ban the product. The company also has a reputation for conducting smear campaigns against scientists that refute their products in addition to their fierce lobbying techniques.

The herbicide atrazine

Fortunately, there have been diligent efforts made by activists to disseminate information about atrazine’s detrimental effects. “Save the Frogs,” one of the most prominent groups, is currently holding various rallies in support of the possible ban, as well as providing information for sympathizers and drawing up a petition for submission to the EPA.

To support the cause or for more information, visit Save The Frogs 

– Jessica Schmonsky

This blog post was cross-posted at blog.izilwane.org. 

 If you too are interested in becoming a citizen eco-reporter, contact Izilwane at: ExecDirector@izilwane.org.