World Water Worries – Blog Action Day
Professor Higgins and Colonel Pickering are remembered for painstakingly breaking Eliza Doolittle’s habits so she could say, “The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain,” with no hint of her Cockney accent in the 1956 classic My Fair Lady. The truth is, it generally falls in the north of Spain, but that technicality is being overwhelmed by a greater and more concerning truth, which is that the rain is not falling like (or where) it used to anymore.
As a child growing up in southern Spain, I used to know more or less what each season would be like, even though realistically we only seemed to have two seasons – summer and winter. In a land full of pine trees, olive groves and palm tree-riddled beaches, the colour of the landscape rarely changed from what I would call ‘dusty Andalusian green’
I remember seeing snow on the Sierra Blanca mountains maybe three times before I was anywhere near my teens. It was practically unheard of in that area, being so close to the salty Mediterranean air. In the last few years, however, it has become an almost yearly occurrence, with snow-capped mountains shining in the glistening January morning sunlight. The temperatures began to drop substantially, and I loved sitting at my desk gazing at the funny white stuff that I’d only ever heard of or seen in photographs and television programmes. I always dreamt of a White Christmas but didn’t actually have one until I was 29 and on a different continent.
Newcomers would ask me what the seasonal trends were, and eventually I had to tell them to expect anything. Usually, the rain would still fall religiously during the Holy Week processions in late spring, and the mixture of heat and humidity in August would make even the toughest locals crawl indoors with the A/C on full blast and cold beer on their minds, or cause sporadic summer storms.
There were a few drought restrictions, and water usage was made available from 1 to 2 in the morning one summer that I recall. Sadly though, the projected construction of up to 200 golf courses along the southern Mediterranean coast has chewed into the land, with many town halls falling prey to personal greed and the ability to see only as far as their own noses are concerned in terms of true sustainable community growth and development. Towns are crawling up to the water’s edge, overstepping legal requirements to push them back and preserve the natural coastline. Everybody wants to live near the water, and it never seems to be near enough. There shall be no pity when the increasing storms wash away pretty terraces and neighbours watch their expensive imported south-Asian furniture wash away, only to generate even more man-made underwater debris. I wonder what future marine biologists will make of this.
I used to tend my neighbour’s garden as a part time job. It eventually paid for the piano I proudly bought myself one year for my birthday. Besides teaching me that hard work and saving up can make for a focused and meaningful purchase, it also taught me a lot about nature and how to take care of it. I realised that poor water usage means that even if we have enough water available, we may still be wasting it and causing further harm to our surroundings. What you will see more often than not in the south of Spain (I can’t say much for anywhere else), is gardens and recreational areas being watered at midday, which is the worst time for such endeavours. Not only are plants put to risk by burning in the heat with fresh water on their leaves, thus countermining the efforts to keep the grass luscious and green, but also more water is used as part of it evaporates in the heat before reaching the ground. Gardening 101; water in the evening after the sun has gone down… the plants will be happy, and you will use less water, helping the environment all-round.
The south of Spain is currently undergoing a desertification process. This can be seen clearly in any progression of satellite imagery of the region. Scientists agree that the land is eroding, and partly because of the urbanisational rape of the region. The land is dry, property construction destroys its natural resources to protect itself from the harsh changes in temperature and climate, and therefore unable to regenerate. Paid pyronamiacs have destroyed acres of land in the past for companies to push for re-classification of barren terrain in order to feed their hungry bank accounts and build so-called ‘self-sustainable’ urbanisations (which actually require even more water usage for all the different plants they cram in to create pretty landscaped gardens for foreigners who run away from colder climates).
The rain that does fall lately is not always enough to nourish the land and fill the dams that provide fresh water to nearby populations. But recently there has been an increase in severe storms, and the damages caused are beyond imagination, because where once there was nothing but greenery, now the water pours through concrete rivers with nothing to slow it down but then open sea. Say a little prayer for those who stand in its way…
We have gone to an extreme that nobody quite dares to grasp, and those who try to propose changes and innovative concepts for water containment and optimal usage, are often pushed down by the greed and ignorance of people who should not hold such powers over decisions like this that affect us all.
In the ‘Blue Gold: World Water Wars’ (directed by Sam Bozzo, 2008) documentary, we are told that corporations are buying up ‘rights’ throughout the world in order to ‘manage’ water for everyone. Those who fear large businesses dominating any industry inevitably question their true intentions behind this move towards water sustenance. Is it a genuine interest in the world’s better management of this liquid gold, or are their potential dangers for power plays between regions and countries? After all, we know that the basic needs of a human being are what causes the greatest strife and often leads to wars. We have already gone through major conflicts over land, ideology, religion, fuel, and it is only natural – pun intended – that we should focus on humanity’s primary necessity besides oxygen (no doubt, that will be next if it isn’t already lined up on somebody’s agenda).
Children in far-away countries die each day from lack of water. Some countries still do not have a healthy water system to ensure that they are not drinking parasites that will kill them later on. Also take into account the fact that in the developing world, about 90% of all waste water is then returned to local rivers and streams.
Where some parts of the world are denied rainwater, others are flooded constantly – either way many people suffer the consequences of too much or none at all. Both man and nature have inadvertently conspired to engage in sabotaging acts of violence upon us. Mother nature is tired, and humanity is short-sighted. It is not an easy task to correct either ailment, but it is our duty and obligation as individuals and communities, and for existing and future generations, to channel our attention to this crucial issue.
The next time you complain about the rain flooding your garage, think of the vast developments in your hometown that have destroyed nature’s basic cycle. Think of the cracks in the earth somewhere across the world that have not seen a drop of rain in years, and ask if anyone really cares to drill deeper and find underground water reserves that would regenerate such arid land, and who may have blocked this humanitarian effort and why. The next time you drink a glass of fresh water, remember the process it has gone through to get to you, and appreciate that in other countries, there is no such thing as water purification. Remember where we have come from in all this time, and fathom where we are going with the current tendencies.
Personally, I grew up by the water, it is where I find my peace and my healing. Everywhere I go, I seek the tantalising waves of an ocean, or the silence of sitting by a peaceful lake in the middle of nowhere in particular. I was born under a water sign. It is in the air that I breathe, it is the basic liquid I must drink to stay healthy. Interestingly enough, both our planet and the human body are made up of approximately the same 70% of water. Essentially, I am water. And so are you. What are we without it?
Written for the Blog Action Day initiative.
The Warrior’s Awakening
The Warrior hung his head low admitting personal defeats, mistakes and shortcomings.
Love has mysterious ways – swoops gallantly with unforeseen magic, hides behind timid innocence, ebbs and flows, sometimes frustrates and confuses. The Warrior knew this but had lost his powers, worn thin by many battles.
When he told her he was trying, really he was trying to find his strength again. But damned if others, victims of their own bitterness and wallowing in resentment, would dare to poison the future, whatever it held in its enigmatic hands; time and space were mere puppets amid hyperactive fingers that flipped them around endlessly at will.
The sharp pains in his chest slowed his breathing. He wandered aimlessly through the village in the middle of the night, aching to see her and caution her on some people’s ulterior motives. But he had to respect her space during this time of separation, hoping and praying they would not inflict permanent damage. He had to trust her heart, no matter the cracks and pain it bore at this time, caused by him in the first place. Some people in the village were talking about it, judging his actions, and they had every right to protect her. But they did not know what he was going through, and there were moments when he was lost for answers; sadly, he knew this confused her, left her feeling like an outsider. But it was she who mattered most not them, even if he had not openly honoured that.
His stride was heavy and slow, unlike his confident gait of not so long ago but oh so far away. He struggled not to let the weight of the wait cause his knees to give in, sluggishly allowing his positive emotions to surface.
“Wash over me,” he told himself, “Wash over me and help me find myself again. Purge what is draining me and heal what is wounded, keep what is real and remove the layers of deceit that others have planted through their own insecurities. Lead me to that stable ground where the trees grow close enough to protect each other from the harsh winds of change, but far apart enough not to suffocate each other’s growth.”
He reached the water, his trusty companion in times of strife, and he listened to the voice of his reflection in the liquid mirror as its ripples hypnotised him into focus, “Embrace the recent faults you have been trapped by, because they serve as reminders you of who you are when you are at your best, when you are able, when the worries of the world are not capable of breaking your foundations, and you hold your power in both hands and lay it before her with quiet confidence to share and find her own strengths as well when they are low. This is the quality that has always made you stand out from the rest, and this is what has suffered the most hardship of late. Remember that when people say ‘Love is everything,’ it really does mean everything… it is the soft touch of her skin as she rolls into your arms in the morning, it is the sand that gets in your eyes and blinds you, the ocean that takes you far and wide into unimaginable places, an emotional kaleidoscope of possibilities. The soft breeze that cools you from the scorching heat of passion, the desert rose you almost overlooked in your exhaustion after so many battles. Too vulnerable to honour the most important element of life, too caught up in life itself to take time for true healing after every campaign.”
The Warrior was finally waking from deep emotional slumber, and when he finally rested his head on his pillow that night with renewed peace and resolve, he lay his hand on his heart and prayed that all was not lost.
In the Absence of Dialogue
Sometimes, we meet people with whom we connect incredibly fast. They inspire us, and hopefully we inspire them. We have fun and we have serious conversations. We listen and learn together. We look out for each other, and at the same time we seek each other out.
Then, as time goes by – sometimes too quickly for our own personal satisfaction and subsequent disappointment – the relationship between us whittles to nothing. Time, ‘life’, circumstances, a change of energies and emotions… anything can affect the way we were yesterday and the way we will be tomorrow.
You try to understand them, respecting their space if that is what they ask of you. But if they are not forthcoming afterwards, there is only so much you can do before it tarnishes your heart and soul. You tell yourself this is just another growing pain, and march on stoically doing your best to fight the good fight.
You sense that the bridge may be burning, crumbling under your feet… but nobody tells you why. Who started the fire? Who should have been there to put it out? And what do you do with the pile of ashes that remains?
You wish them love and happiness, because you care. You do your best to show them compassion even though you may cry yourself to sleep at night out of frustration and confusion. You may never know what happened, or they might finally tell you 25 years later.
Forgive them, for they may be elsewhere in life and decided that you are not one to partake in their journeys – and for some reason they are not willing or able to tell you this. Forgive them, for perhaps life has decided that you are only to spend a very limited time in each other’s presence, and although the experiences may have been short-lived, the lessons learned will be with you forever. Forgive them, because maybe they will join your ranks again in the future, and you will welcome them with open arms to share your war stories in renewed awe of each other.
But in the meantime, because of the warmth of the burning embers in your chest, which is the only tangible thing you carry within… you thank them for all those little moments so far, leave the door open in case they wish to return, and then… you let them go.
