Progress toward publication!

Progress on production of our 38th Parallel book at UC Press: looks like the cover will have a Rick Kattelmann aerial photo of the Mono Lake basin; looks like the title will be Traveling the 38th Parallel: a water line around the world; a copy editor is working on the text during the coming weeks; flyers for the book (which will be out in February/March) may even be available soon!  On an opening page, this epigraph will appear, quoting David Gaines from a Mono Lake Committee newsletter in 1986:  "If nature can heal an injured land, it can heal our...souls as well.  That's why saving Mono Lake is a matter of saving, and healing, ourselves.  Let's not change the planet.  Let the planet change us."

Will Hasankeyf's Heritage be Lost to a Tigris River Dam?

Sunday, May 23, 2010 

(note, the original post was removed for awhile; we are reposting this blog on an important topic that has still not been resolved in July 2012)

Hasankeyf (37°42'N; 41°24'E) is an ancient city carved into the rocky bluffs along the Tigris River. The site has been continuously occupied for more than 10,000 years, and its setting among rolling hills and sheer cliffs along the river is breathtakingly beautiful. The town is threatened by plans to build the Ilisu Dam on the Tigris River, creating a massive reservoir that would drown all but the highest sections of Hasankeyf, along with 200 other villages, displacing at least 80,000 people.

Hasankeyf could be submerged to the height of the Mosque tower

It was sunny and warm the day of our visit with guide Ipek Tasli, the local coordinator for the Initiative to Keep Hasankeyf Alive, part of a a coalition of 72 groups which includes municipalities, environmental organizations, and “chambers of commerce” (www.hasankeyfgirisimi.com). She took that position two years ago, though the group formed in 1997 (the idea for a dam on the Tigris River has been around for decades.)

Hasankeyf may be one of the oldest continuously inhabited places on Earth. An article in Smithsonian magazine in March 2009, noted Hasankeyf's role as a commercial center along the Silk Road trade route from China during the early Middle Ages: “Marco Polo likely passed over its once-majestic stone, brick and wooden bridge, built around 1116 (only two massive stone piers and one arch remain).” From the newer bridge, we hiked uphill to where thousands of caves had been cut into limestone cliffs and used as residences and churches. A hilltop fortress included a secret stairway cut inside the cliff to maintain access to the river water during a siege. 

 

Returning to the riverside for a meal of barbecued fish, we watched as people played in the river shallows and young adults danced and sang in the street. There was a national holiday that day. We ate our Tigris River fish, seated around a low table on divans built right against the river edge, where we could watch fish down in the current nibbling at our crumbs.

International attention and resistance to the Ilisu dam project has grown because the reservoir will flood such extremely important historical and archaeological sites. Swiss, German, and Austrian underwriters within the European Union had funded initial work on the dam, but pulled out in December 2008 after so many issues emerged. A list of 150 World Bank conditions dealing with the environment, protection of heritage sites, relocation of residents, and impacts on Iraq, downstream, would have to be addressed if they were to provide funding. Turkey, however, is moving ahead with projected completion in 2017. The government vows it will fund the construction on its own. Ipek's coalition wonders what outside money is making that possible and the local Kurdish population is wary that this is part of on-going pressure against the region's Kurdish communities and culture.

The Tigris River here creates a unique canyon/riparian ecosystem. Fishing has been a major part of the human economy and also farming. With a dam, the fish populations will change and the river ecosystem will be gone. A local soft-shelled turtle (Rafetus euphraticus) has become a symbol of the environmental impacts for the Turkish environmental group, Doga Dernegi, which maintains an information booth within the town of Hasankeyf (www.dogadernegi.org). The turtle used to be found along the Euphrates also, but is nearly gone there now because so many dams have been completed. The effects of Ilisu could bring the species to the brink of extinction. But Turkey has no Endangered Species Act, nor, apparently, a public trust doctrine on which to rely for legal protection. Perhaps it would help if Turkey was accepted into the European Union, which has more progressive environmental laws. 

Ipek, though only 25 years old, is very eloquent and knowledgeable. We asked her what she hopes to see happen, and she answered that they will do their best to lobby internationally to, hopefully, bring pressure on the Turkish government. She said, “Hasankeyf does not belong to Turkey, it belongs to humankind. We will ask the people of the world to save Hasankeyf.” 

 

Should an ancient city that is part of the history of humankind be sacrificed for more electricity and water reservoirs? The eyes of the world need to turn toward Hasankeyf.

Japanese Crested Ibis: Back from the Brink

A smooth, silent high speed train carried us across the volcanic interior of Honshu Island to the west coast city of Niigata. With Japan's dense population and limited space, the forested mountains are a nice break from land otherwise intensely cultivated or inhabited. Ubiquitous rice fields, turning golden yellow just before the harvest, were especially beautiful along the edges of forest land.

   Before hosting us to a traditional Japanese dinner, Professor Tsuneo Sekijima of Niigata University described research supporting the breeding and reintroduction of Japanese Crested Ibis (called “Toki” by the Japanese). The Toki is very symbolic of Japan; its scientific name is Nipponia Nippon.  Once common across the nation, Toki went extinct after the last 5 wild birds (by then found only on Sado Island) were captured in an attempt to save them in 1981. Those formerly wild birds eventually died of old age, but meanwhile, a small remnant population was discovered in China.  The Chinese began a successful breeding program and gave Japan two Toki in 1999 for breeding on Sado, an island off the west coast that is bisected by the 38^th parallel.  Today there are 33 released birds flying wild, with 132 in Japan's captive breeding conservation center.  Though breeding has increased their numbers in captivity both in Japan and China, none of the released birds on Sado Island have yet been successful at hatching eggs.

    Professor Sekijima has a cadre of graduate students working on data collection, measuring food resources in the rice paddies, and daily monitoring the activities of the wild flocks. Seeing such a rare bird up close, in cages, was a pleasure, but then going out at dawn with the surveyors, to see wild Toki flying free, was an exceptional thrill.  Our escort was Dr. Endo, a post-doc student. The Toki's morning flight out of trees where they roost is fairly predictable, and they appeared right on schedule as the sun rose above the horizon.*  Later that morning, while Dr. Endo was showing us her methods for surveying insects, frogs and loach ( a small fish) preyed on by the ibis in the rice paddies, another Toki flew in, an unexpected delight for us all (they generally stay roosting in trees during the heat of the day).  “Toki need a certain landscape including rich rice fields with trees alongside to rest and preen in,” she explained.   “Just because there is a lot of food available in a place does not mean they will come.” As the rice matures, the birds cannot forage among the tall stalks. Sado Island farmers now leave water in fallow fields throughout the year to improve ibis habitat.

Yoishi Kawaguchi , a professor from Tokushima University, was also there studying the irrigation system's effects on Toki and their prey. Open connections between the rivers, water ditches, and rice paddies are critical to the small loach that need to enter the paddies to spawn. Toki cannot land and take off in narrow, concrete-lined waterways, so Dr. Kawaguchi has designed fish ladders and ramps to help the fish pass up from the ditches into the paddies, and urges farmers to leave water in dirt-sided ditches beside the paddy when they drain a field before the harvest.

   We spent an amazing day, moving from event to event on Sado with the National Park Senior Ranger Kei Osada.  “The role of a ranger in Japan is changing,” he told us. “Now we are encouraged to be involved in community conservation efforts as well as taking care of parkland.”

Our first stop on that busy day was a community work-project where local farmers, non-profit groups;, Sado City officials, and park staff were working outside, together, for the first time, to remove large mouth bass and blue gill perch (non-native species introduced from the USA) from local ponds. The fish were introduced for sport fishing, but devour the small native fish and frogs critically important to the ibis. The pond had been drained to strand the bass and perch in small pools. Under the eye of local TV cameras, a flurry of activity ensued, mud flying as men in waders netted the thrashing fish and heaped them on boats and rafts.   Hundreds of fish were caught that would be distributed to the locals to eat. Kei was in the middle of the action (in the yellow uniform shirt), scooping up fish and being interviewed for local television.

Next, we joined a group of local elementary school children a few miles away, who had caught creatures in the Ishida River for a wildlife survey. Though the channel was lined by concrete, the river was surprisingly rich with fish, insects and big, fuzzy crabs. This is part of the local effort to improve things for the ibis by improving conditions for “the small things,” and to involve all of the community in that effort, including children.

   We continued up a mountain in the island's interior to meet another group, this time students from Wasada University, who volunteered to come from their homes near Tokyo for four days. We found them energetically stirring mud in a rice paddy to enhance oxygen flow in the “biotope” -- one of many small wetland habitats rich in food for the endangered birds, newly built throughout the island close to rice paddies.

Finally, Ranger Osada took us to the breeding center, including the “training cage,” where 18 of the birds could fly and get ready for their transition to the wild, later that month. Our busy day continued into the evening, as Ranger Kei escorted us to a dinner with the university students and local residents. The students enthusiastically practiced their English by telling us about their 4-day adventure on Sado. The evening culminated with a performance of traditional dancers and drummers.

    In late September, 18 more Toki will be released on Sado Island and join the 33 birds already flying wild. These large pink birds are a symbol of hope and renewal for all of Japan.   Sado Islanders, especially, have embraced the effort and are committed to making the changes necessary to their human system that will help sustain the birds. The mayor of Sado City, Koichiro Takano, has written: “Our effort ...is a direct response to the biodiversity crisis that confronts humanity, and our efforts to bring back the Toki through nurturing the small creatures on which it thrives is an attempt to restore the environment that is worthy of world wide attention."

*A volunteer with the ibis survey team allowed us to use his photo of a Toki in flight; we thank him, a Sado Island carpenter who prefers anonymity. 

Recovery on Japan's Tsunami Coast

On the morning of March 11, 2011, a magnitude 9.0 earthquake, with an epicenter at 38°19'N; 142°23'E, created a tsunami that reached the east coast of Japan in 30 minutes. A 30-foot wave struck Sendai (38°15'), the largest city near the epicenter. The tsunami caused much more damage than the quake itself or its many strong aftershocks. Over half a million people were displaced and more than 20,000 died. The quake also damaged several nuclear reactors south of the line, most critically at Fukushima (37°19'N) where reactors lost cooling capability and experienced meltdowns.

We arrived in Japan in early September, after postponing plans to visit in April. Japan is a land of contrasts: quietly speeding bullet trains, carefully tended gardens, clean well-kept cities, but also bright flashing lights, Karaoke bars and pinball machine gambling halls. It is a traveler's dream country of order, efficiency and politeness.

   In Tokyo, we met with six National Park administrators in their offices on the 26^th floor of the Environmental Ministry building.  They intend to create Sanriku Fukko (Recovery) National Park by combining existing local, regional and national parks and connecting them with a long trail the length of the affected coastline. They told us: “At first, we were overwhelmed by the earthquake disaster.  We were here in Tokyo, but wanted to help those people because the National Parks there are a key to their local economy and the most significant features in much of that area. We have staff in several parks now, but hope to expand and create a new type of park.”  Their goals are to increase tourism, provide employment and honor the victims of the tsunami with interpretive information.  The new trail system will also provide escape routes to higher ground for future tsunamis. Though only at the vision planning stage, Tsunao Watanabe, the Director General of the Nature Conservation Bureau, said this was now the agency's most important national effort.

We traveled by bullet train to Sendai, the city where the massive tsunami wave swept across the airport, shown again and again in video news coverage of the earthquake disaster. Sendai is on the western edge of Matsushima Bay at the south end of the Tohoku region. North of the big city, at Matsushima, is Japan's oldest “Natural Park,”operated by the Miyagi Prefecture. Over 200 small islands topped by Japanese red pines are famed as one of three best visual features in Japan. We had a morning tour boat to ourselves; tourism has not fully recovered since the March disaster. Matsushima remains a magical place. Six months after the March 11 earthquake, the clean up already accomplished was impressive, but piles of debris remain and there were several wrecked boats on the beaches. Some pine trees were broken and brown, killed by waves and salt water, but trains and tour boats were running on schedule. 

With the help of an English-speaking woman at the tourist information office (whose house was one of 200 in Matsushima destroyed by the quake -- already rebuilt), we asked local park administrator Hiroya Miura about the new Recovery Park idea being planned in Tokyo. He told us, “It will be difficult to coordinate so many different levels of national and local park operations but, yes, it could be a way to increase tourism and provide jobs.” 

Though Matsushima Park still has bridges and walkways to repair near the main information center, the town bustled with Japanese tourists. Souvenir T-shirts were for sale everywhere, proclaiming: “Never Give Up, Japan,” and “Go For It, Tohoku.” Those words are being put into action.

That night, at our hotel in nearby Sendai, a magnitude 4.7 earthquake shook us awake – an insignificant aftershock, one of hundreds that size or bigger that still rock the region.

Restoration in Japan: final stop on the 38th Parallel

On September 7 we fly to Tokyo from San Francisco to explore the 38th Parallel across Japan, including two stories of recovery and restoration.  We will meet with Ministry of Environment officials in the national headquarters in Tokyo to learn about the Japanese Crested Ibis breeding and release program and also the new Sanriku Reconstruction National Park that is planned for the northeast coastline where the tsunami hit last March.  During the following week, we will to go Sado Island (off the west coast of the main island; see map) where the Crested Ibis Conservation Center is located.  Our hosts say that we may tie in with a university group doing a habitat project when we arrive and we also hope to attend a community get-together that evening for those students and locals.  The ibis went extinct in Japan, so this recovery program, begun with a few birds provided by China, is something like our California Condor breeding and release program.  The water connection here is the need to switch locally to organic rice farming, as the birds feed on frogs, fish, etc. in nearby rice paddies.
     Returning to the main island, we will travel through the mountains to Sendai, on the Sanriku coast where the tsunami had such devastating impacts after the March 11 earthquake.  We hope to visit at least one of the national parks (Matsushima) being consolidated into the new park along the affected coastline.
     With the final chapter complete, our book will move ahead with editing and production at University of California Press (publication will be in 2012).  Watch for our blogs from Japan between September 8 and the 15th.
(Our thanks to Javier Grijalbo of Madrid, Spain, for preparing the map in this message, one of 5 that he created for our book)

In Turkmenistan: Half-way Around the World from Mono Lake

 

Half-way around the world from home, the GPS told us we had reached the 61°East longitude in Turkmenistan.  The 38° latitude line intersects in Mono Lake with the 119°West longitude:  61 + 119 = 180° around the globe!  Local clocks are 12 hours different from California (as bad a jet-lag problem as there can be, we would learn;  after Turkmenistan we were homeward bound). 

We landed in Ashgabat, the capital and largest city (37º58'N) and drove straight east toward Merv, the most influential ancient city they never taught us about in World History.  Half-way there we stopped at that half-way around the world longitude point and took a photo beside a reservoir that stores Karakum Canal water.  The canal was begun in 1954 when Turkmenistan was part of the U.S.S.R. and diverts 50% of the water that used to feed the Aral Sea, in Uzbekistan.  It moves water almost 600 miles, one of the longest aqueducts in the world, to Ashgabat and to farms along the way.  With the water, Turkmenistan grows lots of cotton, especially, and fruits and vegetables.  The Aral Sea, which used to be the 4th largest lake in the world, meanwhile has lost 75% of its volume because of this and tributary diversions by other nations.  The unlined canal seeps into the region's groundwater and evaporation draws salts to the surface, ironically taking some lands out of production.. 

Our goal that day was the city of Mary, which sits next to (and in some places slops over into) ancient Merv, a State Historic and Cultural Park.  The local history began more than 6,000 years ago, with a series of cities that each built mud-brick walls, houses, fortresses, and mosques.  The Greeks were there in the first few centuries B.C., including Alexander the Great's army.  Some believe that Merv was the largest city in the world from 1145 to 1153, under the Seljuk Turks, with a population of 200,000.  The Persian mathematician, Omar Khayyam, used an observatory in Merv; he is more famous in our country for his poems published as The Rubaiyat.
   Merv existed here because of water, the Merghab River.  Most of this nation is covered by the Karakum Desert.  Ironically, that dependence on water was used by the sons of Genghis Khan, who arrived with an army of 8,000 soldiers in 1221 A.D., were repulsed by the walls and defenders, but finally forced surrender by destroying the city's dam on the Merghab River.  With no water supply, the city gates were opened to the Mongols who proceeded to kill its inhabitants.  Merv's ancient glory days came to an end.

    In Ashgabat, we toured a stable to learn about the nation's fabulous Akhal Teke horses, a type that may have become the source for the Arabian breed.  Women of Turkmenistan appear on the streets each day in lovely long dresses (green for the school girls) that most Americans would only consider wearing on special occasions.

    We were helped in Turkmenistan by Berkeli Atayev, who came to Great Salt Lake 7 years ago with a group of Turkmenistan Tourism officials.
    It is a relief to be heading home after 5 weeks of travel across Asia.  This completes our around-the-world adventures on the 38th parallel--almost.  Japan is still to come, we hope, in September.  The book that will flesh out these stories about water-related water and cultural intersections along the 38th parallel will be published in autumn 2012 by U.C. Press. 

THE KARAKORUM HIGHWAY TO THE WESTERN EDGE OF CHINA

It was time for us, as mountain people, to see the high country near China's western border.  We headed up the Karakorum Highway to Karakul Lake, at 11,999 ft (38°26'N), said to be the most beautiful lake in China.  The weather cooperated providing a majestic view of Muztagh Ata beyond the lake, rising to 24,757 feet above sea level. 

            Enroute, we made a side trip to Oytagh Glacier, which is melting fast in a hanging valley with a viewpoint at 9,500 feet.  The valley community was raising crops and livestock at this high elevation in small green fields along the river, backed by towering mountains.   

Yaks, camels, yurts and Kyrgyz hats and dress appeared here, so close to the border of Kyrgyzstan. 

            Our final destination was the city of Tashkorgan, near the border with Tajikistan and Pakistan.  Along the way, we stopped where the highway crossed 38°00'N, and took a photo in front of a mud- walled mosque.  Traditional dress changed again, with the women wearing a kind of pillbox hat covered with a scarf.  The stone castle ruins above the town date to 500 years before Marco Polo's arrival in the 13^th century.  A waitress at our hotel told us that the townsfolk prefer to bring water in jugs from the local river, as the water in city pipes carries too much sediment.

            We had crossed all of China, these final days on routes that were used by Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan and Marco Polo.  Our guide Abdul introduced us to Uighur culture and explained that Alexander the Great coined that name, which means “united” people.  It was a pleasure to dine with Abdul's family at their farm outside Kashgar.  His mother seemed thrilled to receive a Mono Lake Committee shopping bag!

            Our next stop: Turkmenistan, half-way around the world from Mono Lake. 

6th China Blog: The Southern Silk Road: Hotan to Kashgar

Hotan is an oasis on the Southern Silk Road, east of Kashgar, famous for centuries for its jade. It was  here we met our friend from home, Rick Kattelmann, and our new guide Abdul, and began our trek through far western China's Uighur region.  Hotan is an island of green in the Taklamakan Desert, with orchards of fruits and nuts and fields of wheat going on for miles.  We drove to the “green wall” at the edge of town where men were planting and drip irrigating peach trees and tamarisk, trying to hold back the shifting dunes.

            Hotan exists because of its water--the Jade River.  A major discovery in 2001 in the river bed started a modern day “jade rush', a free for all that is tearing up the riverbed using everything from shovels to huge excavators.  People sleep among the tailing piles, and work at night, looking for the shine of the precious stones.  Men could be seen all over town haggling over stones. We presented a small piece we found to a jade buyer. The answer?  He threw the worthless river stone on the ground. 

            Silk has been the key trade item for centuries.  A factory in Hotan still does the whole process by hand, from stringing the silk off the cocoons, to spinning, dying and weaving. 

            Continuing west, we explored Yarkand (a “small” town of only 560,000 at 38°17'N) and a wonderful weekly market in Kargilik.  Even with a nice van and a good driver, it was a long, bumpy ride.  A railroad is set to open soon, and a new highway is under construction.  The evolution of the Silk Road continues.

            Kashgar has always been a crossroads and trading center, a bridge between China and Central Asia.  The Uighur region seems like a whole different country, and for much of human history, it has been.  Veiled women now mix with Han Chinese in mini-skirts and high heels.  Color abounds everywhere, with beautiful fabrics, lucious fruits and shiny copper pots.  Woman dress to go to market in exquisite dresses we would only consider wearing to a formal wedding.  The transport mode of choice is an electric scooter.  They zip around everywhere, including on sidewalks and through crowded market aisles.  Women sit side-saddle in back, clutching small children and not even holding on to the driver or scooter. 

 

            Kashgar has a livestock market on Sundays, where sheep, donkeys, cows, goats and even cats and dogs have been sold or traded for centuries.  Looking for a fast horse?  There's a special area to “test ride”the sale horses at top speed. We sampled a traditional Uighur kebob here, lamb, dipped in flour and egg and baked in a stone fired oven.