Sand Mining Threatens Coastline as Sierra Leone Rebuilds

Within a few miles of Sierra Leone’s capital, sand mining is having a devastating effect. As beaches slowly disappear, so do the country’s hopes of post-war revival. 

Freetown Beach in Sierra Leone, Erik Cleves Kristensen, CC BY 2.0

Twenty years after Sierra Leone's 11-year civil war, the economic promises of sand mining prove to be costly. The war, which took thousands of lives and led nearly half the country's population into poverty, destroyed most of the country. What followed was a construction boom made possible by an essential ingredient of modern civilization: sand. However, as Sierra Leone’s 300 miles of glorious beaches slowly disappear, so does the revival of tourism and the protection of 55% of the population who live along the country’s coast from the dangers of rising sea levels due to climate change. 

As part of a post-civil war move to help communities benefit from local resources, Sierra Leone’s central government gave regulation of sand mining to local councils. Under the 2004 Local Government Act, local committees operate the trucks and strictly hire local people to mine the sand. After a long day of mining, the sand is dried and sold to developers to pave and extend roads as new homes, hotels and restaurants go up across the country. 

Government officials defend sand mining as an essential source of jobs and a necessary component in rebuilding Sierra Leone. Kasho Cole, chairman of the Western Area Rural District Council, told the Los Angeles Times that his council is “sensitive to environmental concerns, having banned sand mining on certain beaches because of the devastation it has already caused.”

Cole also acknowledged that assessments had not been carried out anywhere in the district to determine sand mining’s environmental impact. Due to large-scale illegal sand mining operations, Cole could not provide a definite amount of sand extracted from the beaches. 

Sand theft, the unauthorized and illegal form of sand mining, has led to a worldwide non-renewable resource depletion issue, causing the permanent loss of sand and significant habitat destruction. Sand mining has already made a significant environmental impact in North Stradbroke Island and Kurnell in Australia; the Indian states of Maharashtra, Madhya Pradesh, Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu, and Goa; and the Red River in Yunnan, China. 

In the United States, the sand mining market generates slightly over $1 billion per year. The industry continues to grow annually by nearly 10% because of its use in hydrocarbon extraction. Globally, sand mining is a $70 billion industry, with sand selling for up to $90 per cubic yard. 

In Sierra Leone, sand mining operations are regulated on John Obey Beach, a village 20 miles south of the Western Area (Freetown Peninsula.) According to the Environmental Protection Agency, sand mining should be banned on all beaches apart from John Obey. However, when the police leave the beaches at 5 p.m., the mining continues after dark. 

Efforts to address the issue are hampered by conflicts of interest from those involved: miners who need the work, construction companies who need the supply and investors who are getting rich taxing the sand. Last year, a press statement from the local police force confirmed “certain service personnel appear to be aiding and abetting this illegal act.” 

As dump trucks continue to haul sand away and tides push further inland, John Obey Beach is slowly disappearing—taking trees, businesses, homes and dry land with it as far down the coast as Bureh, a surf town two miles south. While the activity contributes to Sierra Leone's coastal erosion, which is proceeding at up to 6 meters a year, the removal of sand also changes wave patterns that move sand along the coast, altering the quality of surf that Bureh, a renowned surf spot in Africa, is known for. 

Prior to the war, Sierra Leone’s beaches were packed with adventurous travelers from around the world. Kolleh Bangura, the director of Sierra Leone’s Environmental Protection Agency, told The New Humanitarian that “sand-mining is a calamity for the tourism industry… Anywhere in the world, sand is the resource of tourism, but now our beaches are being degraded.”

Lakka, a coastal town located 10 miles from Freetown, was once known for its large beaches and seaside resorts, offering a glimpse of the future if actions are not taken. Sand mining on Lakka Beach is illegal now, but the ban came too late—leaving a thin wedge of sand lined by crumbling buildings, many of which have been left abandoned. 

Even the miners themselves recognize sand mining is not sustainable; however, with a youth unemployment rate of 70%, the pressure falls on the government to provide alternative jobs. “In time, they need to ban it, as we want to bring tourism here,” Abu Bakarr, a sand miner, told The New Humanitarian. “But we need sand-mining to sustain our lives…The government needs to give us jobs. If there are no jobs, the youths will mine the sand.”

Papanie Bai-Sessay, the biodiversity officer at Conservation Society of Sierra Leone, told the Los Angeles Times that “the sand has been a buffer… we are destroying our first line of defense. If we don’t stop, it will be a disaster for millions.”

Claire Redden is a freelance journalist from Chicago, where she received her Bachelor’s of Communications from the University of Illinois. While living and studying in Paris, Claire wrote for the magazine, Toute La Culture. As a freelancer she contributes to travel guides for the up and coming brand, Thalby. She plans to take her skills to London, where she’ll pursue her Master’s of Arts and Lifestyle Journalism at the University of Arts, London College of Communication.

Saving More Elephants with Honey than with Vinegar

The vast majority of people around the world have only seen African elephants from a television screen, from behind fences in zoos, or- if they’re lucky- from a safe seat in a safari car as it bounces past the grazing giants of the Serengeti. From those vantage points, it’s impossible to look at the massive bodies, dexterous trunks, and intelligent eyes of the elephant and not feel a keen sense of wonder and awe. Elephants are some of those ‘charismatic megafauna’ that capture the hearts of people worldwide, making conservation efforts seem like a no-brainer. Who wouldn’t want to protect and save these wise, complicated, prehistoric-seeming creatures?

The people who share a homeland with elephants might be in that category. 

Elephants are herbivores, and must eat almost constantly to maintain enough calories to support their gargantuan bodies- individual adults can consume between 200 and 600 pounds of food per day. Traveling in family groups that can consist of 10-20 elephants or more, that’s an incredible amount of vegetation needed to sustain a herd. 

In addition to the grasses, roots, fruit, and bark found in the wild, elephants have quickly learned that their human neighbors can provide a tasty supplement to their diet- fields of carefully tended yams, cassava, corn, plantains, and grains. A herd of elephants can destroy a subsistence farmer’s means of food and income for the whole year in just a single night.

These episodes of crop raiding have created dangerous situations for people living in sub-Saharan Africa. Desperate to protect their livelihood, farmers may try to stay awake all night, ready to yell and bang pots in an effort to frighten away any pachyderm pilferers. However, elephants are not so easily startled by humans, and have been known to attack and kill would-be crop defenders. In anger and frustration, a group of villagers may then retaliate and try to kill the next group of elephants they see. These was creating a vicious cycle of animosity on both sides; elephants are intelligent creatures, and once they began associating humans with pain and disruption, there was evidence that they became more violent to humans in future encounters.

The heightened tensions were disastrous for both humans and elephants, and a solution was desperately needed to protect both vulnerable groups.

There had been local rumors buzzing around for a while that claimed elephants were afraid of bees, but it wasn’t until researchers Fritz Vollrath, Dr. Iain Douglas-Hamilton, and Dr. Lucy King investigated that those results were confirmed to the rest of the world. When confronted with the sound of bees buzzing, the elephants would immediately retreat and send out a rumbling call that would warn other elephants of danger in the area. Additionally, the elephants would begin shaking their heads and dusting themselves, suggesting that their skin was sensitive to bee stings and that they knew to associate the sound with potential pain.  

Armed with this knowledge, researchers, nonprofits, and government groups set out to make affordable beehive fences that could protect precious crops from marauding elephants and protect elephants from learning dangerous behaviors that would bring them into conflicts with humans. 

In the last few years, as the success of the beehive fences has been proven time and again, they are gaining in popularity throughout Africa. The fences are genius in their simplicity; a hanging box hive is hung from a fence every ten meters, all connected by wire. This way, if an elephant brushes against the fence or wire, the hives will swing and rock and the bees will swarm out to get away from the disturbance. Nearly 100% of the time, the elephant will turn tail and run, warning its family members to stay away. Thanks to their famous memories, the elephants won’t soon forget that lesson.

Not only do the fences allow farmers to harvest their full crop without any losses to elephants, but the honey produced in the hives has also found a niche market. “Elephant-Friendly Honey,” as it’s called, has been a huge hit with globally conscious consumers who increasingly want to know that the products they are buying support a good cause. 

African elephant populations have slowly been increasing since the poaching crisis that decimated their numbers in the 1970’s and 1980’s. While the rest of the world celebrated that fact, many African people living in close proximity to elephants couldn’t see why people around the world were so eager to save the creatures that were plaguing their lives and livelihoods. Now, thanks to an increased effort to help protect people along with ivory-tipped neighbors, more and more people are able to view their globally treasured wildlife with a sense of pride instead of fear. 

Katharine Rose Feildling

Katharine Rose was born in Maryland and is currently working for the Condor Recovery Project in California. She studied wildlife management in East Africa, and gained a deep passion for wildlife conservation, social activism, and travel while there. Since then, she has traveled and worked throughout the United States, South America, and Asia, and hopes to continue learning about global conservation and inspiring others to do the same. 

The World’s Electronic Waste is Ending Up in Ghana’s Landfill

While new tech gadgets launch every few months, the buildup of electronic waste is being sent to Ghana and damaging the citizens’ health. 

Location, Ghana. Fairphone. CC BY-NC 2.0

The capital city of Accra in Ghana is home to the largest e-waste landfill, Agbogbloshie. Electronic waste or e-waste is waste material with any battery or power cable. It ranges from everyday appliances to laptops, circuit boards, lamps, phones, etc. If these items are not disposed of properly, they can become harmful to the environment and people. An estimated 250,000 tons of electronics are sent every year to the dumpsite. The site not only houses e-waste, but about 40,000 Ghanaians inhabit the area alongside livestock. 

The e-waste arrives in Ghana through the Port of Tema, about 20 miles east of Agbogloshie. Most of the items in the container ships are from the United States or Western Europe. The electronics are secondhand and sent to Ghana with the idea of being refurbished then sold.  The majority of the items cannot be fixed and become e-waste, which is then taken to Agbogbloshie. Once the electronics arrive at the dumpsite, there is an entire process the electronics go through. First, small collectors sell the items to scrap dealers known as “masters.” The scrap dealers then have their workers, known as “boys,” use their bare hands, hammers and other tools to break apart the valuable metals inside. At times insulated wires are bundled together and taken to the “burner boys” they’re in charge of burning the plastic off of the wires. In doing so, they’re able to retrieve valuable metals. The metals include copper, aluminum, zinc, silver and others. Once the metals are recovered, they are weighed and sold for instant cash. 

PCBs Used to Extract Metals. Fairphone. CC BY-NC 2.0

The supply and demand is what fuels the toxic pollution in Agbogbloshie. As soon as the bulk of metals and wires are sold, they are exported out of Ghana and reused to produce new devices. The men and young boys who do this harmful labor are usually from rural northern cities searching for work to provide for their families back home. A “burner boy” will make about $40-50 Ghanaian cedis a day (US$6-8). Living in extreme poverty and barely making enough to move further up the chain, along with paying the ultimate price with their lives. They work arduously with no protective gear and no government regulations. At times, these young men and children have multiple health issues due to the toxic fumes and chemicals that leak from the electric waste. They face chronic nausea, debilitating headaches, skin diseases, burns, respiratory problems, infected wounds and cancer among others. All these issues are brought on by the toxic work environment, pollution and lack of regulations. Most people know that this line of work is debilitating to their health. However, the desperation for survival is the driving force. 

The people who work and live in Agbogbloshie are not the only ones suffering; the livestock is, too. The toxins are entering the food chain as cattle roam and graze the dumpsite freely. This is concerning as the Agbogbloshie area is home to one of the largest food markets in Accra. Most of the cows and chickens are slaughtered and eaten by the residents, which then ingest the high-level toxins. In addition, the water is also being contaminated as Agbogbloshie is situated on the Korle Lagoon. This lagoon is filled with piled-up waste of all sorts and links to the Gulf of Guinea, the Northeastern part of the Atlantic Ocean. 

Goat Freely Roaming. Fairphone. CC BY-NC 2.0 

Agbogbloshie is known to many of the locals as Sodom and Gomorrah. These biblical cities are synonymous with Agbogbloshie’s difficult living conditions. Although harsh, the people of this slum depend heavily on electrical waste in order to make a living. The Ghanian government has condemned the activity that’s taking place here. However, it has not lessened. As of now, change might be taking place in the near future. The German agency, GIZ, is in the middle of delivering a $5.5 million project for the people of Agbogbloshie. The plan is to build a sustainable recycling system and a health clinic and football pitch for workers. Much more will need to be done to keep the people’s health intact and away from this harmful environment. However, this is a start in bettering the status quo.

Jennifer Sung

www.jennwanders.com

Jennifer is a Communications Studies graduate based in Los Angeles. She grew up traveling with her dad and that is where her love for travel stems from. You can find her serving the community at her church, Fearless LA or planning her next trip overseas. She hopes to be involved in international humanitarian work one day.

Hidden Afghanistan

From the apricot and walnut groves of the beautiful Panjshir valley, to the strips of cultivated green set against the dry pink and tan of the mountains in Bamyan, to the glittering sapphire blue lakes of Band-e Amir, I went in search of the real Afghanistan.

The country’s rich cultural history, rugged landscape, and the legendary generosity of Afghan people, have long been a draw for adventurers and travellers alike, but for now, still struggling with deep-rooted insurgency, Afghanistan remains firmly off the radar for most. Plagued by terrorism and war, the most recent cycle of bloodshed and instability has left the country with a reputation for violence and little good ever makes our TV screens in the West. For too many, our narrative around countries like Afghanistan has been reduced to a single story.

As part of my work on a book called Life in the Himalayas — looking at people’s everyday working lives throughout this diverse and magnificent mountain range, from the high plateau of Tibet to the foothills of Myanmar — I spent three weeks documenting the lives of agropastoralists in Afghanistan, and exploring this battered but beautiful country. I set out to focus on rural areas, everyday life and culture, going in search of the real Afghanistan, away from the vestiges of war and terror.

Kabul

I started off in the bustling markets in the country’s capital, Kabul, a chaotic little jungle of trinket shops, carpet sellers and giant chunks of Lapis filling windows. Occasionally I felt uneasy under the stares of watchful eyes as I poked my way through the dusty streets. Mostly it felt like any other vibrant bazaar in Asia, people going about their busy day.
 

I ate in smoke filled restaurants sitting cross-legged on cushions. Whole sheep carcasses are hung directly above the stove and the cook simply butchers off the bits he needs and throws them into a big black pot, along with fistfuls of fresh herbs and spices. Huge roundels of hot naan breads are piled high on the tables and you pay for what you eat. There is a genuine old-world feeling in Kabul that is rare to find these days.
 

Panjshir Valley

From Kabul I travelled to Istalif, a district famous for its distinctive blue pottery, and then by road to the stunning Panjshir Valley, one of the most celebrated places in Afghanistan, located in the heart of the Hindu Kush mountains. Its name means ‘Valley of the Five Lions,’ which according to local legend refers to five spiritual protectors or ‘wali’ who built a dam here during the early 11th century AD for Sultan Mahmud of Ghazni.
 

The Panjshir river starts from a narrow gorge where snowmelt turn the river into a torrent, rich with fish. It gradually widens into the valley to reveal carefully irrigated fields of wheat and maize dotted with walnut, apricot and mulberry groves. 90 percent of farmers in Panjshir Province practice subsistence agriculture, and the war has destroyed irrigation canals and orchards, making many aspects of farmers’ lives a challenge.
 

In recent years, however, international initiatives have assisted local and regional government leaders to introduce improved varieties of wheat and educate farmers on methods for improving yields and irrigation.
 

Bamiyan

In the heart of the Hazarajat, Bamiyan is surely one of the most beautiful parts of the whole country. It was a popular tourist destination during the 1970s, but a decade later became a symbol of resistance to the Soviets. Today, although the valley is still dominated by the gaping cavities in the cliff face, and the rubble is a constant reminder of the Taliban’s rage and destruction of the two ancient Buddha, there is far more to Bamiyan.
 

Guarding the entrance to Bamiyan valley, the ruins of Shahr-e Zohak form a dramatic citadel — perched high on the cliffs at the confluence of the Bamiyan and Kalu rivers. The towers here are some of the most imposing in all of Afghanistan, and are made of mud-brick on stone foundations, with intricate geometric patterns built into their walls. With no doors, they were accessed by ladders that the defenders pulled up behind them.
 

Looking down from the citadel, the views are incredible, with the thin strips of cultivated green in neighbouring valleys like Fulladi providing a striking contrast to the dry pink and tan of the Koh-i Baba mountains.
 

At first glance, the barren hills of the Bamiyan valley appear to promise little, but the snowmelt that issues from them each spring allows the farmers here to irrigate the valley floor and grow crops like potatoes.
 

Donkeys are still the main source of transport in this rural province, and shepherds and their flocks are often compelled to walk long distances.
 

Band-e Amir

Meanwhile, the glittering sapphire blue lakes of Band-e Amir are one of Afghanistan’s most astounding natural sights. In April 2009, Band-e Amir was named the country’s first national park, 36 years after a previous attempt to do so was interrupted by decades of political strife and war.

Formed by the mineral-rich water that seeps out of faults and cracks in the rocky landscape, the six linked lakes of Band-e Amir sparkle like jewels against the dusty mountains that surround them.

Over time layers of hardened mineral deposits called travertine have built up on the shores, to create the dramatic sheer sides that now hold the lakes in place. Local lore tells a different story, asserting that these natural dams were thrown into place by Hazrat Ali, the prophet Muhammad’s son-in-law, during the reign of the infidel king Barbar.

Before gaining its status as a national park this region experienced significant habitat destruction for firewood and farmland, overgrazing and overhunting — the snow leopard has now vanished here — and also damaging fishing practices that involved using hand grenades. Today Band-e-Amir is protected by a small group of park rangers, and is still home to ibex (wild goats), urials (wild sheep), and wolves. Although numbers of visitors to the park remain small, it is hoped that in time, this region will become an important area for tourism in Afghanistan.
 

Herat

Finally in Herat, the country’s old cultural heart, I felt more welcome than anywhere else in the country. Chatting to passing nomads on the outskirts of the city, inside its little bazaars, visiting the Friday Mosque — one of Islam’s great buildings — I spoke openly with burqa sellers about the state of the country. Here I discovered an Afghanistan most people simply don’t know exists. Afghans are proud of their culture, they are welcoming, generous and have a sharp sense of humour.

On my last day, insurgents attacked one of the big hotels in Kabul. I could hear helicopters and sirens all day and was advised that it was best not to leave the house. The next morning a gunfight broke out beside the road on the way to the airport. Sand bags and gun turrets occupy every corner and the frequent security checks are a sobering reminder of how unstable and precarious daily life is for the people of Afghanistan, whose resilience remains under great strain in these troubled times.

Let us hope that one day, a lasting peace will come to this battered, but proud and ancient country, allowing travellers to experience its beauty and welcome, and to step onto the fabled silk route once more.
 

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA.

Driven by his passion for travel, the environment and remote cultures, Alex Treadway has travelled to dozens of countries around the world on assignment.

COVID-19 Slows Africa’s Progress Against Poaching

Poaching is a last resort for villagers who lost their jobs due to COVID-19 lockdowns. Conservationists now struggle to preserve endangered species. 

A valuable commodity. valentinastorti. CC BY-NC 2.0.

They march through the field with chainsaws, the rhinos sedated. What follows is no gruesome act of poaching. It’s the exact opposite. Workers at the Spioenkop Nature Reserve in South Africa’s KwaZulu-Natal province rev their chainsaws and go to work sawing off the rhino horns. “It has a face mask put on it to cover its vision, it has earplugs put into its ears [...] so that reduces trauma to the animal,” says Mark Gerrard of Wildlife ACT, a nonprofit that protects African wildlife. “We’ve got to remind ourselves that this [a rhino’s horn] is just keratin—this is really just fingernails.” 

These rhinos’ horns will grow back in 18 to 24 months, but in the meantime, poachers won’t hunt them for the priceless commodity. Armed with only chainsaws and sedatives, the conservationists at the reserve are combating Africa’s interminable poaching problem. If a rhino has no horns, poachers have no reason to kill it. This fact doesn’t make the job any easier. “It is a traumatic experience for us,” Gerrard says, “not for the rhino.”

Spioenkop Nature Reserve has fared unusually well in its fight against poaching. Out of 15,600 rhinos in South Africa, 1,175 were killed by poachers in 2014. In 2015, the country began dehorning rhinos to considerable success. By 2019, the number of dead rhinos had fallen to 594. By 2020, it was 394. Nevertheless, Gerrard defines a truly successful dehorning effort as “zero animals poached.”

Two big cats, two big trophies. DappleRose. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

It will be a hard goal to reach. After COVID-19 effectively shut down international travel, tourism revenue in Africa plummeted, leaving conservationists cash-strapped in their anti-poaching campaigns. Spioenkop Nature Reserve has struggled to patrol its vast territory, but the issue goes beyond just South Africa. Wildlife tourism generates $29 billion each year and employs 3.6 million workers across Africa. The lack of sufficient funds for anti-poaching efforts is a continent-wide problem.

In Zambia’s Kafue National Park, poaching takes place at the edges of the park, where patrols have been cut back. In 2020, the park reported a 170% increase in snares, which snag wild cats. That same year, two lions were killed while none had been slain the year before. More disconcerting, patrollers increasingly find poached animals gored for “buck meat.” Poor local villagers, desperate from COVID-19 lockdowns, have joined poachers in the hunt to earn a living and put food on the table.

By and large, however, poaching is the work of international crime syndicates working in the black market. Some conservationists advocate legalizing the sale of poached items such as rhino horns and ivory to lower the market value, reducing profits for poachers. In Kenya, courts have buffed up their prosecution efforts, leading to a precipitous drop in poaching. Dedicated legal teams actively pursue convictions for poaching, and those caught red-handed face long prison sentences and fines of up to $200,000. Still, the black market provides lucrative opportunities for locals willing to break the law in hopes of amassing a fortune. A 35-pound black rhino horn can be worth up to $2 million. For poor Africans, the opportunity is often irresistible. 

Confiscated rhino horns. USFWS Headquarters. CC BY 2.0.

At Mpala, a research center in central Kenya, patrols have adopted a digital approach to combat rampant poaching. They use the SMART app (spatial monitoring and reporting tool) to track every animal a patrol encounters—alive or dead. It also allows them to track people seen infiltrating the parks. Conservationists are attempting to make up in brainpower what they lack in manpower; less tourism revenue led to slashed budgets, which meant fewer patrols. However, park managers agree that addressing the root cause of poaching, poverty, is the best solution to the problem. In this regard, nobody seems to have an answer.

So the traumatic work of sawing off rhino horns in Spioenkop continues. “We cannot let our guard down,” says Elise Serfontein of the organization Stop Rhino Poaching. “The kingpins and illicit markets are still out there, and even losing one rhino a day means that they are chipping away at what’s left of our national herd.” With one rhino’s horn sheared to a nub, the team moves on to the next. The rhino sleeps in the field as they approach. One member revs the chainsaw and begins cutting. White flakes flutter through the air like dust. 

Michael McCarthy

Michael is an undergraduate student at Haverford College, dodging the pandemic by taking a gap year. He writes in a variety of genres, and his time in high school debate renders political writing an inevitable fascination. Writing at Catalyst and the Bi-Co News, a student-run newspaper, provides an outlet for this passion. In the future, he intends to keep writing in mediums both informative and creative.

As Glaciers Disappear, Scientists Struggle to Preserve the Ice

By the second half of the 21st century, there may not be any glaciers left. Despite this grim prospect, scientists are working to preserve what they can of glaciers around the world.

Ice breaking off from a glacier in Alaska. Schmid Reportagen. CC BY 2.0. 

Around the world, glaciers are disappearing at unprecedented rates. In the past five years, Swiss glaciers have shrunk more than 10%. In the Himalayas, glaciers are melting at a rate double that of the last century. If current estimates are accurate, most glaciers around the world will be completely gone by the second half of the 21st century. As indicators of global warming, melting glaciers illustrate the catastrophic effects of climate change. Scientists are working to preserve glaciers in a multitude of ways before the last of the glaciers vanish. 

Ice core drilling. Helle Astrid Kjaær. CC BY 2.0. 

Ice Memory 

Headed by the French and Italian National Commissions of UNESCO, the Ice Memory project aims to preserve and archive glacier ice. Mountain glaciers are phenomenal natural records and contain a physical history of atmospheric composition. Preserving these records of the climate and environment is the goal of this project, which aims to collect ice core samples from 20 of the world’s most prolific glaciers before they disappear. The Ice Memory project plans to maintain an archive of ice cores in a repository in Antarctica to ensure the long-term preservation of the heritage of ice. 

Hellisheidi geothermal power plant, the site of the original Carbfix project. Sigrg. CC BY 2.0. 

Carbfix

Icelandic glaciologist Oddur Sigurdsson has predicted that Iceland’s 300 or so glaciers will be gone within 200 years. However, Icelandic environmental engineers are working on a promising new method called Carbfix which captures atmospheric carbon dioxide and pumps the greenhouse gas underground, where the gas mineralizes in less than two years in an effort to capture carbon emissions. The relocation of carbon emissions below ground helps to mitigate climate change, which in turn prevents glacial melt. The goal of the project is to transform CO2 into something that “stays buried underground as rock forever,” says Edda Arradóttir, Carbfix’s project manager. 

The Rhone Glacier in the Swiss Alps. Jam Cib. CC BY 2.0. 

Glacier Blankets 

Each winter for the past decade, Swiss residents near the Rhone Glacier have covered their neighboring glacier in white canvas blankets that reflect sunlight away from the ice. While over 131 feet of this glacier has disappeared in the past 10 years, Swiss glaciologist David Volken believes that this preservation technique is working. The blankets, as he told Agence France-Presse, have reduced the ice melt by almost 70%. While this technique is not a long-term solution, scientists are researching how to further utilize the sunlight-reflection technique in protecting glaciers across the Alps. 

Sarah Leidich

Sarah is currently an English and Film major at Barnard College of Columbia University. Sarah is inspired by global art in every form, and hopes to explore the intersection of activism, art, and storytelling through her writing.

The Eerie History and Uncertain Future of Japan’s Rabbit Island

Ōkunoshima and its imperiled bunny population remind us that wildlife and tourism don’t always mix.

A cluster of bunnies on Rabbit Island. Cindy Pepper. CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

From its many “cat islands,” which boast more feline than human residents, to Jigokudani Monkey Park, where visitors can observe macaques bathing in the naturally occurring hot springs, Japan seems to overflow with fantastical wildlife enclaves. Perhaps the most adorable of all is Ōkunoshima, or “Rabbit Island”—but the cotton-tailed denizens for which this island is known belie its sinister past and ambiguous future.

While Ōkunoshima, located in the Hiroshima Prefecture, is a popular tourist destination for those looking to get their kawaii fix, it was once hidden from maps due to its clandestine status as a World War II military location. Production of chemical weapons in the island’s poison gas factory began in 1929, and apart from factory workers and army higher-ups, few citizens were aware of its existence.

Ōkunoshima was chosen for its location: discreet enough for goings-on there to remain under the radar, and far enough from densely populated cities like Tokyo to prevent mass casualties in case of an accident. The factory there eventually produced more than 6,000 tons of gas—primarily mustard gas and the irritant lewisite—before its closure at the end of the war. Chemicals wereould be shipped to Kitakyushu in the Fukuoka Prefecture to be weaponized, eventually resulting in more than 80,000 casualties (including and more than 6,000 deaths) among Chinese soldiers and civilians.

Despite the fact that Japan was a signatory to the 1929 Geneva Convention banning the use of chemical weapons, none of the country’s citizens were prosecuted for employing poison gas. After Japan’s defeat in the war, most of the Ōkunoshima factory was destroyed, but laboratory buildings, the shell of a power plant, an army barracks, and a few other edifices remain. In 1988, local governmental entities and citizens opened the Poison Gas Museum to pay tribute to this dark and little-known facet of Japanese history. Displays include the ineffective protective gear worn by workers at the factory, which left them vulnerable to exposure and subsequent illness, as well as equipment used to manufacture the gases.

So where did the bunnies enter the equation? We know that a colony of rabbits was brought to the factory during its operational years to test the effects of poisons, but beyond that, theories diverge. Some suggest that the original crop of rabbits was destroyed along with the factory, while others claim that workers set the bunnies free after the war. Another theory asserts that schoolchildren brought eight rabbits to the island in 1971, where they bred until they reached their current population of approximately 1,000.

Tadanoumi Port viewed from the ferry to Ōkunoshima. Brian Shamblen. CC 2.0

Today, Ōkunoshima is easily accessible via a 15-minute ferry, and embodies peace, rest, and relaxation for tourists and locals alike. Visitors can easily explore it on foot (the island is less than 2.5 miles in circumference), collect souvenirs, dine, play tennis, swim in the ocean, and bathe in the hot spring—apart from communing with the wildlife, of course. Rabbit Island’s website describes it as a place to seek good fortune for your own family’s fertility, and advertises whipped ice cream and “original rabbit items” for sale, as well as octopus kelp rolls, a local delicacy known to pair well with sake.

Yet even the island’s thriving tourist industry and booming bunny population has a more sinister flip side. The wild rabbits depend on visitors for their food and water, but tourists often come bearing snacks that are harmful to the creatures’ delicate digestive systems—such as cabbage or vegetable peelings, which can cause fatal bloating. And while visitors are keen to share photos of their new fluffy friends online, social media has played a key role in destabilizing the rabbit population: Viral videos and articles have led to a vast influx of tourists in the past decade, and the resultant avalanche of snacks and treats has contributed to a breeding boom that the island’s ecosystem is unable to handle. These factors have combined to lower the bunnies’ life expectancy to only two years, compared to the three-to-five-year lifespan of the average wild rabbit.

The plight of the Ōkunoshima rabbits is just one example of the widespread harm social media has inflicted on wildlife populations across the globe: For instance, viral YouTube videos of slow lorises, wide-eyed nocturnal primates native to Southeast Asia, have led to people taking home lorises from the wild to keep as their own. Unfortunately, captivity is unhealthy for the animals, and they often end up relegated to props in tourist photos—or worse, sold into the illegal pet trade, and possibly slaughtered for use in cuisine or medicinals.

A curious bunny on Ōkunoshima seems to have mistaken the camera for a snack. Brian Shamblen. CC 2.0

Ultimately, bunny lovers need not be deterred from visiting Ōkunoshima, but following the rules is essential in order to treat the creatures kindly and foster their health and wellness. The Rabbit Island website lays out guidelines for responsible rabbit enthusiasts—including “refill water pans” and “check under your car,” as curious bunnies might hide underneath to escape the hot sun—and travelers can use their visit as an opportunity to educate friends and family about the unique perils posed to wildlife in the digital age. Approaching this mystical island mindfully is a small yet important step in helping the myriad diverse populations of the animal kingdom survive and thrive for many years to come.


TALYA PHELPS hails from the wilds of upstate New York, but dreams of exploring the globe. As former editor-in-chief at the student newspaper of her alma mater, Vassar College, and the daughter of a journalist, she hopes to follow her passion for writing and editing for many years to come. Contact her if you're looking for a spirited debate on the merits of the em dash vs. the hyphen.

Students Across Europe Protest in Hopes of a Greener Future

After years of political gridlock surrounding climate change legislation, students emerge as a force for change.

Photo of a student protester. By Josh Barwick on Unsplash.

Thousands of students across Europe left school on Friday, February 15 to protest the lack of action on climate issues in their countries. In what the New York Times called a “coordinated walk out for action on climate issues,” elementary, middle, high school, and undergraduate students came together to demand a greener future. In London, protestors held signs reading “The ocean is rising and so are we” and “Act now or swim later.”

The student-led movement for climate action that is currently taking Europe by storm began with 16-year-old Swedish activist Greta Thunberg. In September, Thunberg started skipping class to stage sit-ins at the Swedish parliament, demanding that her government seriously address climate change. Thunberg’s action inspired teens worldwide, some of whom created the global movement Youth Strike 4 Climate and began organizing protests and walkouts, using social media to coordinate efforts. According to the New York Times, demonstrations have been held in Belgium, Britain, France, Germany, Ireland, Sweden, and Switzerland, among others.

The New York Times writes that the new organization gained even more energy in October of 2018 when a report from the UN’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change disclosed that the world has only twelve years to change its climate policy before the consequences of inaction such as food shortages, rising sea levels, floods and forest fires manifest themselves.

Thunberg remains a notable voice in the movement she inspired, and went on to speak at the global climate-change conference in Poland last December. “You say you love your children above all else — and yet you are stealing their future in front of their very eyes,” she told politicians at the conference. “Until you start focusing on what needs to be done rather than what is politically possible, there is no hope. We cannot solve a crisis without treating it as a crisis.”

In British schools, protesters received mixed reactions from teachers and staff. While some encouraged students, others threatened to punish them for skipping class. “My school was not supportive at the start. They said I would get detention for unauthorized absence,” Anna Taylor, the seventeen-year-old co-founder of the UK Student Climate Network told the New York Times.

Sixteen-year-old Bonnie Morely, who was attending the strike with friends from school, told the New York Times that a head teacher had taken down posters advertising the strike in her school’s common areas. “They’re treating us like we are doing something really wrong,” Morley said. “The future of our planet is looking really bleak, and all the politicians are asleep at the wheel. We have to wake them up, and I think thousands of kids on the streets will do just that.”

Like the teachers, European politicians displayed mixed reactions, with some supporting the students and others going so far as to suggest that the strikes were the product of a secret governmental organization.

According to the New York Times, a spokesperson for British Prime Minister Theresa May said that, “everybody wants young people to be engaged in the issues that affect them most so that we can build a brighter future for all of us. But it is important to emphasize that disruption increases teachers’ workloads and wastes lesson time that teachers have carefully prepared for.”

Thunberg tweeted in response: “British PM says that the children on school strike are ‘wasting lesson time.’ That may well be the case, but then again, political leaders have wasted 30 years of inaction. And that is slightly worse.”

“We don’t miss school because we’re lazy or because we don’t want to go to school,” Jakob Blasel, a high school student who assisted with the organization of an earlier protest in Berlin told the Washington Post. “We can’t go to school, because we have to strike. We have to deliver an uncomfortable message to our leaders that it can’t go on this way.”

Youth for climate is currently planning another round of protests and another global youth strike for March 15. The movement is growing and more students from nations across the world are expected to join.

Emma Bruce

Emma Bruce is an undergraduate student studying English and marketing at Emerson College in Boston. While not writing she explores the nearest museums, reads poetry, and takes classes at her local dance studio. She is passionate about sustainable travel and can't wait to see where life will take her. 

An Island Disappears off the Coast of Japan

It remained unnoticed until local fishermen investigated.

Vintage globe depicting the Sea of Okhotsk. Robin Ottawa. CC BY-SA 2.0

This fall, Esanbe Hamakita Kojima, a tiny island off the northeast coast of Japan dropped out of sight. The island’s disappearance went unnoticed by inhabitants of the nearby village of Sarufutsu, situated on the northern tip of Hokkaido island only 1,640 feet away.

It wasn’t until September, when author Hiroshi Shimizu traveled to Sarufutsu to gather inspiration for his picture book on Japan’s islands, that authorities were notified of the island’s disappearance. Shimizu had been looking for the island but couldn’t locate it. He informed local fisherman who went out to investigate and finally noted that Esanbe was missing.

When Japan’s Coast Guard last surveyed the island in 1987, it was only 4.5 feet above sea level. Authorities could not confirm how large the island had been before the sea rose around it.

Esanbe is west of Japan’s Northern Territories and part of a set of islands that has been long-contested between Japan and Russia. The islands, called the Kurils by Russia, were taken by the Soviets shortly after World War II, but ownership today remains unclear. According to CNN, Esanbe functions as a marker of Japanese ownership in contested waters. But the strategy of claiming islands to maintain the maritime space around them is not exclusive to Esanbe. In fact, according to the Washington Post, Japan owns 158 uninhabited islands that the country named in 2014 so that the sea surrounding them could remain in Japanese control.

Thus, the disappearance of the island may have a slight effect on Japan’s territorial waters, as according to international law, countries can only claim ownership of the sea around an island if that island is visible at high tide. Coast Guard officials in Japan confirmed that Esanbe’s loss, “may affect Japan's territorial waters a tiny bit.” With the island underwater, Japan will have lost approximately 1,640 feet of territorial water.

The island’s disappearance was likely due to erosion by the wind and drift ice common in the Sea of Okhotsk each winter. According to coast guard official Tomoo Fujii, “There is a possibility that the islet has been eroded by wind and snow and, as a result, disappeared,” Asahi Shimbun of the Japanese Daily reported.

According to the Smithsonian, disappearances of land masses in this area of Japan are not unlikely. The good news for Japan’s border, however, is that this phenomenon can occur in reverse. Five years ago, a 1000-foot long island rose out of the sea, prompted by a landslide.

EMMA BRUCE is an undergraduate student studying English and marketing at Emerson College in Boston. While not writing she explores the nearest museums, reads poetry, and takes classes at her local dance studio. She is passionate about sustainable travel and can't wait to see where life will take her. 

Tides of Change : Japan to Resume Commercial Whaling

For more than thirty years, the island nation of Japan has fought to expand its commercial whaling operations. That fight has mostly been a losing one, with its efforts often being blocked by anti-whaling countries around the world and condemned by the International Whaling Commission, an organization whose members include Japan itself. However, Japan’s recently proposed exit from the commission will allow the country to reclaim one of its most time-honored traditions, and the move is drawing international criticism.

Two Minke Whales being loaded onto the Nisshin Maru. The ship has facilities on board which allow it to freeze and process whales while at sea. Australian Customs and Border Protection Service. CC BY-SA 3.0

In 1982 the International Whaling Commission, or IWC, imposed a global moratorium on all commercial whaling, save for subsistence whaling by Aboriginal communities. The moratorium went into effect in 1985 and was met with opposition from Iceland, Norway, and Japan, countries with strong whaling traditions. In Japan, whale meat generally served the same purpose that beef or lamb served in Western societies and this was especially true during hard times. In the 1940s as the country was recovering from World War 2, whale meat was the single most consumed meat among Japanese people, and it remained so through the 1960s. After the announcement of the IWC’s whaling ban, Japan petitioned for the right to continue whaling in the Antarctic for “scientific purposes” though the specific nature of its research remained unclear. Whale activists claimed that this “research whaling” was in fact, commercial whaling in disguise, and vessels like the Nisshin Maru, Japan’s largest whaling vessel and the world's only factory whaling ship, became a frequent target of animals rights groups, with some going so far as to board vessels of their own and try to disrupt the Maru’s whaling expeditions by obstructing its path. Earlier this year, Japan expressed a desire to develop new ships, fast enough to outrun those of the activists, but the plan appears to have been scrapped, as the Japanese government announced in late December that it will formally withdraw from the IWC, discontinue its operations in the Antarctic and resume commercial whaling operations in its own coastal waters. Though the demand for whale meat has diminished somewhat in Japan, the practice of whale fishing is still considered by many to be intrinsic to the country’s cultural identity.


Environmental conservation hinges on the idea that some of the Earth’s resources are non-renewable. Humans can hunt an animal to extinction, and that extinction creates an imbalance in the ecosystem that the animal once belonged to. The effects of that imbalance can, in turn, come back to haunt humans, either directly or indirectly. These are, however, relatively young ideas, and pitting them against hundreds of years of tradition is sure to be a test for all parties involved.



JONATHAN ROBINSON is an intern at CATALYST. He is a travel enthusiast always adding new people, places, experiences to his story. He hopes to use writing as a means to connect with others like himself. 


France Banned Food Waste in Supermarkets

Millions more meals can reach those who need them.

Produce at a market in Nice, France. M-Louis. CC BY-SA 2.0.

In 2016, France banned supermarkets from destroying or discarding unsold food products, requiring them to donate instead to food banks or local charities.

The law was written by Parliamentarian and former food industry minister Guillaume Garot, who believes that food waste is a national health and safety issue, akin to wearing a seatbelt. The campaign itself was the product of a grassroots movement by anti-poverty and food waste activists which eventually became a petition, lead by local councillor Arash Derambarsh.


Now that food waste has been outlawed in French supermarkets, Derambarsh has set his sights on European and ultimately global policy revisions around the issue. “Food is the basis of life, it is an elementary factor in our existence,” he told the Guardian.

While Derambarsh became a councillor to help people, he reports being called “naive and idealistic” because of the policy he hoped to implement surrounding food waste. “Perhaps it is naive to be concerned about other human beings, but I know what it is like to be hungry,” he said.

“When I was a law student living on about €400 a month after I’d paid my rent, I used to have one proper meal a day around 5pm. I’d eat pasta, or potatoes, but it’s hard to study or work if you are hungry and always thinking about where the next meal will come from.”

Now, grocery store managers in France with a 400 sq meter or larger footprint must sign contracts with local charities and food banks promising their edible expired items, or face a €3,750 ($4,500) fine per infringement.

According to Jacques Bailey, head of Banques Alimentaires, a network of french food banks, 5,000 charities rely on food banks, who in turn, receive almost half their donations from grocery stores. Under the law, these food banks are receiving larger amounts of better quality food products, enabling them to better reach the the people they serve. According to Bailey, an increase as small as 15% in donations from supermarkets will result in 10 million more meals served every year.

 

And yet, required donations are not the only way that France is fighting food waste. In 2014, Intermarche, one of the country’s supermarkets began selling produce that was deemed too “ugly” to sell at other markets. These “ugly” or misshapen produce are perfectly safe to eat, but have blemishes make them less marketable to consumers, resulting in their disposal before even seeing the grocery store isles. This initiative is particularly effective, as fresh fruits and vegetables are the most difficult items for charities and food banks to come by, and are necessary to a healthy diet. Intermarche’s initiative reached 13 million people after only one month of being implemented.

 

About a third of food produced is wasted worldwide. France has narrowed the food it wastes to 66 pounds per person every year. In comparison, Americans waste 200 billion pounds of food per year - 40% of all food produced in the country. The waste problem in America is partly due to the lack of regulation surrounding expiration dates, which are often selected at random and do not always reflect when items are safe to consume.

 

The rest of the world has a lot to learn from France’s policy. NPR writes that communities and governments worldwide are now reaching out to Garot, hoping for information that would help them reproduce France’s law in their own countries. Ultimately this change needs to be made, because, as Garot emphasized, supermarkets are not just businesses, they are places where humanity must be respected.




EMMA BRUCE is an undergraduate student studying English and marketing at Emerson College in Boston. While not writing she explores the nearest museums, reads poetry, and takes classes at her local dance studio. She is passionate about sustainable travel and can't wait to see where life will take her. 



Mask off: How Beijing is Managing its Smog Problem

Earlier this month, California made national headlines when the worst wildfire in the state’s history covered parts of it in smoke, creating yet another worry for citizens already vexed by the high cost of living and rising homelessness. Some news stations, hoping to illustrate the seriousness of the matter, stressed that the air quality in California was “worse than Beijing’s,” an announcement that prompted many locals to don the air masks that one often sees in images of the Chinese capital. In media, locally, and abroad, Beijing has become synonymous with bad air. The internet is peppered with images of skyscrapers draped in brown or grey fog. But recent efforts by the government have made some headway in the battle with Beijing’s notorious smog and could give us insight into how to battle this problem at home.

A smoggy day in Beijing. By 螺钉 - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=24944427

Those who have been to Beijing know that air quality is but one of many dangers; crossing an intersection can be like an action movie at times and drinking water out of the tap is generally a bad idea. Smog, however, is the issue most often associated with Beijing in the media. Fortunately, Beijing is aware of its reputation and has taken steps over the last few years to improve its air quality. The city has pledged to shut down 1000 manufacturing factories by 2020 to help reduce smog. It is also experimenting with new technology. Early last year Beijing employed the use a solar-powered air vacuum to help clean up the city’s air. Developed by Dutch designer Daan Roosegaarde, the Smog Free Tower sucks up 30,000 cubic meters of polluted air per hour. The air is then cleaned at a nano level and released back into the city. In a particularly bold move, Beijing's government is investigating the possibility of switching from coal to natural gas as the primary source of heating for millions of households. This shift will be implemented gradually, as concern for the well-being of Beijingers during the winter months supersedes the need for cleaner air.

Dan Roosegaardes's Smog Free Tower. By Bic - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=47801218

People can change, and ideally, their reputations will change as well. Beijing’s efforts to clean its air shows an environmental consciousness that contradicts its reputation as a dirty industrialized city. As smog becomes a more recurrent issue in cities and courtiers around the world, communities that once judged China for its smog may get to learn a thing or two about how to fight it.





JONATHAN ROBINSON is an intern at CATALYST. He is a travel enthusiast always adding new people, places, experiences to his story. He hopes to use writing as a means to connect with others like himself.