Connections, friendship and globalisation

Puerto Ayora seen from Playa de la Estación. November 2018

no he escrito en años, se siente como siglos

pero eh

aquí va

...

Teddy Roosevelt said: "No one cares how much you know, until they know how much you care"

I ´beyond´ care for Galapagos! 

I am who I am (professionally) because of my life in Galapagos. I arrived alone in 1995. We left in 2015. For most of those 20 years, I worked at the Charles Darwin Foundation (CDF), and WWF-Ecuador back when Galapagos was their focus. Forging the start of my knowledge base, the connections, the friendships and relationships that still make me warm inside. 

I now live in Darwin, Australia. Not visited by Charles Darwin in his voyage on the Beagle. 

Molly, Theo, Leo and Kai with
Galapagos Deli ice cream - Feb 2009

My dear Darwin-friend Mandy (and her family) are in Galapagos now. They have hugged our mutual friends and visited our home in El Eden while visiting with Wonderful Margarita. They went to the Galapagos Deli, and visited with Don William de los Encocados. They ate bolon and freshly caught fish (I mean, that day's catch).

I came to Darwin (Australia) because of Mandy (and because I got a scholarship for Charles Darwin University - CDU to do my PhD). Mandy, then life-partner of our dear Galapagos-life-long friend Mark Gardener (dating back to 1998), visited us in Galapagos in 2006 with Molly. By 2008, Mark, Mandy and Molly were back in Galapagos, with Mandy doing her PhD in the parte alta de Santa Cruz with CDU. Now, Mandy (and Mark and Molly) are staying at Noemi's house al otro lado. 

V, Mandy, Noemi and Sabine - Dec 2011

I met Noemi back in 2001 when she came as an expert volunteer to Biomar (Area de Biologia Marina, CDF) where I worked as a marine scientist. Noemi developed the much needed Access database to manage the Fisheries Monitoring Program. The results from that Access database helped monitoring fisheries catches (i.e. fin fish, sea cucumber, spiny lobster) providing info for the management of the Galapagos Marine Reserve. Then, in 2003 Noemi returned and set roots. Noemi is among my dear friends that are still living in Galapagos. Most of my queridas 'Susanitas' have migrated outbound. 

Galapagos, is a set of big and small islands. Only five islands are inhabited: Santa Cruz, San Cristobal, Isabela, Floreana y Baltra with about 30,000 people living on those five islands. Two airports connecting to mainland (Ecuador) plus one local one connecting all three; and, 184 km of roads all in all. For most of the residents in Galapagos, there is no real knowledge of the uniqueness, the specialness of Galapagos. Most of them have never left the island, unless to fly to mainland. There were 329,475 tourists in 2023, they saw what the real Galapagos is about. 

Back in 2020, our dear friend Roby Pepolas (his sons Leo and Kai are in the photo of the kids with ice cream) envisaged what is now Galapagos Infinito. Galapagos Infinito is an experiential education program that aims to take all Grade 6 (12 yo) students on guided visits to other islands. This will strengthen their belonging to Galapagos, nurture their love for the islands and deepen their connection with their environment. Galapagos Infinito is now sailing in our dear neighbours (Rafael Gallardo and Ale Camacho) on their sailboat "Ballenato" and yesterday they took students from the (public) Oswaldo Guayasamin School. Noemi is the one who runs the show with the help of many other volunteers like another beautiful amiga Colette Moine, back from the 'Cuatro Linternas' time in 1996.

With Mandy's trip to Galapagos, my dear friend Catrin, responsible for widening my social circle upon my arrival to Darwin, and I had a serious chat. 

Catrin and V, 2 April 2016

One day, out of the blue in April 2016, at the Nightcliff Public Pool, I heard a 'Vero' that would significantly change my life. Catrin, whom I had known (and partied with at Bongo) in Galapagos is now a Darwin-local. Catrin introduced me to most of the most amazing people I could think of. Catrin and I, we both have been back to Galapagos, with a pending trip back again, together.

Mandy (and Noemi), Catrin and I, all lived in Galapagos at the same time. With Noemi being the one holding the fort now. 

Our privilege allowed us to see the real Galapagos. 

We, all four of us, understand that if Galapagos is to be kept at its best, we need to do transformational change in the younger generations. Galapagos Infinito spreads the privilege of sailing and seeing the real Galapagos, thus imbuing environmental literacy with a hands-on approach. Just what is needed in this mobile-infused lives. 

Sailing away - Galapagos Infinito 4 Dec 2024

Please consider donating using the link created by Mandy earlier this week. Us – Mandy, Catrin and I, would like to invite you to generate this transformational change by donating to ensure this program keeps running.

To date, over 150 students from Santa Cruz, San Cristobal, Isabela, Floreana have sailed to different sites such as Playa Ochoa and Five Fingers in San Cristobal; and, Playa de los Marinos y Daphne in Santa Cruz/Baltra. The kids are guided by experienced local naturalist guides who volunteer their time. 

Daphne is where Professors Rosemary and Peter Grant worked on Galapagos finches for over 40 years. They witnessed evolution in real time. 

Running a school of the sea in Galapagos is an expensive affair, we need your support.

You know WE care, you can care too. 

Thanks amigos y amigas, apologies for only having it in English.

A life of research and camaraderie

Peter and Rosemary. Rosemary and Peter. Like that, in pairs. In science and in life. In memories and in reality. I have known ‘Los Grant’ – as we called them in Galapagos – for as long as I can remember. They have been quietly studying Darwin’s finches in Daphne Major, an islet in the central part of the archipelago, close to Baltra airport; the airport that services the economic hub of Galapagos and the place I used to call home. I have been to their informative talks over the years, but having them here, in Darwin, was just the sweet cherry on top. CDU Darwin Scholars that really live up to the name.

Photo credit: Prof. Simon Maddocks

Peter and Rosemary have spent forty years doing fieldwork in Galapagos, spending six months of the year each year capturing, tagging, and taking blood samples of the finches on the island. They have spent so much time on the island that they know the birds on a personal basis. The birds’ know them too, with one of them happily following Rosemary around while she untied birds from mist nets. They have developed a ‘network’ of friends on Daphne Major and upon returning every year they could see which friend/finch is still around. They have given each of their birds’ unique numbers and identifiable coloured bands, which is how they knew that cactus finch #4706 (Geospiza scandens) had lived to the ripe old age of 17 years old.

Back in 1973 when they started their work on Daphne Major, they must have thought that this was the kind of work that could define their lives. So they came back to it – same study site, same method, same measurements, same strict protocols to be followed. And lots of foresight and ever increasing enthusiasm that led to new discoveries, new questions and new findings. Findings that proved that evolution can be observed and measured in our life time. They provided empirical evidence that “the origin of the species by means of natural selection or the preservation of favoured races in the struggle for life” – a theory proposed by Charles Darwin over one hundred years ago – was happening in real time on a tiny little island in the middle of the Pacific. They actually saw evolution!

However, their findings were not just scientific. They also discovered that their two daughters would happily leave teenage summers of civilization to accompany them to Galapagos. To read. To sleep in a tent. To wash in the sea. To read a book aloud over a boiling pot of tea. To be a family. To be a team.

In true team spirit, Peter took sabbatical leave to take care of the house and the girls whilst Rosemary got her research together and was awarded a PhD when she was 49 years old. I will be 47 when I hope to be awarded mine, I like the symmetry between our two stories. Talking about Rosemary getting her PhD, she quipped “It is typical of women, they never go in a straight line, they go like this (indicates a winding path)” in which each turn and twist mean a child, an altruistic decision, a selfish one too. As Peter quipped, “Rosemary has played an extremely important role in science”. She has indeed for me at least. She has become my new role model.  I know now that I can do it, and I can excel at it too while being a mom, a wife, a friend and a woman.

Veronica

Rosemary and Peter met in Vancouver at the University of British Columbia, where Peter was doing his PhD and Rosemary had been offered a position as a Research Associate. Peter walked out of his office at the university holding a pair of skis he had just purchased from his land lady, and saw his supervisor Mary walking towards him with another woman who was introduced to him as Rosemary. The very first thing that Rosemary said to Peter was: “Those skis are too short for you”. He retorted, with surprise, “No they are not” and Rosemary replied, very sure of herself, “Yes, they are.” Peter replied “No they are not, I know because my land lady just gave them to me”. Rosemary replied, “Yes, they are. You have to put your arm in the air, like this, and the top of the skis should touch your hand”, and Rosemary demonstrated by putting her arm in the air with her palm facing the ground. Peter was sure she had no idea what she was talking about and so put his arm in the air and rested the skis against it. The skis reached only halfway up his forearm. Rosemary smiled, “Yes, see, too short for you. But they will fit me. How much did you pay for them?” and Peter replied “8 dollars”, with mounting surprise. Rosemary happily handed over $8, took the skis and walked on down the corridor with Mary. Peter returned to his office, in a state of shock, and thought “Well then. I’ve lost my skis but at least I still have the poles I got for my original $8!”

Two months later and Peter and Rosemary were boyfriend and girlfriend. He had to buy another pair of skis for himself and more poles to go with Rosemary’s skis.

Peter and Rosemary have been together for so long that they live together, work together and even finish each other’s sentences, in almost perfect harmony. They are a force to be reckoned with and are inspiring on so many levels – from not only their commitment to their work and to science but most importantly their commitment, love and care for each other.

Jennifer 

[Original text published in Flycatcher Magazine - http://online.anyflip.com/rnlo/wilf/#p=16]

Flycatcher Editor’s note: Veronica Toral-Granda and Jennifer Macdonald were lucky enough to have a conversation with Emeritus Professors Rosemary and Peter Grant from the Department of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at Princeton University in New Jersey, who were the 2016 Charles Darwin Scholars from Charles Darwin University, Darwin, Australia

How could you...

Dear people from the USA,

Did you ever think you were going to reach this point in your life that you had divided your nation in two brightly colored sides?

Source: http://www.freeiconsweb.com/

Do you know how would you react when your 14-year old daughter comes home devastated because she was body shamed? How could you if you elected a man who body shames everyone

Do you know how would you deal when your KKK neighbor kills your dark-skinned son, despite both being as American as the American flag? How would you even react to that when you put a man like that in the Oval Office. A man who finds pleasure in stating that white skin is what made the USA great

Do you know how would you hug the dark-skinned highly-prepared immigrant who just saved your twin sister after that massive car accident? How could you do that when the man sitting in the most powerful seat on your nation has set as a norm that all immigrants are unprepared and dangerous aliens

Do you know how would you deal when your sweet boy comes home because he was bullied to tears while everyone else laugh to their (sick) hearts content? How could you, when you have placed the biggest bully ever on American history in the White House

Do you know what you will do when your handicapped daughter is mocked and kicked just because she has different capabilities? How could you when the man you elected President of your nation points and laughs and people with disabilities

Do you know what you will do when the love of your life is being sent back to what is not ‘home’ anymore just because he wanted to live the American Dream? How could you when you elected a man that does not believe on the richness of a nation built on immigrants

Do you know how would you react when your wife was sexually molested to the point that she took her own life? How could you when you elected a man that boasts about his sexual advances and believes he has the right to

Do you know how would you react when you don’t get that job, for which you are fully qualified, just because you are a woman? How could you when you elected a man that sees womanhood as a problem

How could you…  

I know I couldn’t. It will be too arrogant to believe I am exempted of any of this happening to me and my loved ones. I try to live what I preach. I try to walk the talk. I try to raise my children in a way that they learn about empathy, respect and love. To show them that there is beauty in difference. How could I push them to be better, to be nice. To care. How could I tell them that such behavior is not accepted in the big wide world. On what grounds could I continue raising my children to become good human beings and live to the standards set by a decent society. It will be very hard, I know.

Please spare the world of such an embarrassment. Spare us from having to fight against what will become the new norm: misogyny, racism, bigotry. A place where love is no longer the norm. Where hatred marks your steps along the road and disrespect flows everywhere. Please. This is not the time to fight against the system. Now is the time to make sense and show the world that the USA is already great. That the USA is a nation that leads by example and where you can still reach your American Dream.

Ecuador en la piel...

heme aquí. sentada en la computadora de la Universidad con la camiseta de la Tri. llevando al Ecuador a flor de piel. entra mi amiga y me pregunta con una sonrisa que qué partido hay de importancia. le digo que mi respuesta le va a hacer sentir mal. le dije. se sintió pésimo. me invitó un café para pasar el mal sabor de boca

estoy a 16,216 km de distancia de Manta - dice Google Maps. casi en la antípoda. pero se siente como si estuviera en la luna. solo que con buena conectividad

tengo que avanzar con mis estudios. tengo fechas límites que se me vienen encima y yo sentada viendo la computadora. reviso Facebook y Twitter como si de eso dependiera mi vida. no depende. pero si parece que la de otros compatriotas

me duele el Ecuador. me duele ver la desazón de muchos, la indolencia de pocos - de esos que asaltan y roban a los que ahora sí no tienen nada mas que lo que llega de caridad. me duele pensar que existen personas que se aprovechan del dolor de otros

me agobian los pedidos de auxilio. me reconforta la movilización nacional para ayudar a nuestros compatriotas. me agobia ser noticia mundial y que aun así acá en Australia no se den por enterados. me reconforta que varios países han extendido la mano para ayudarnos. me agobia el protagonismo, el selfie con la donación. me reconforta la donación en sí. me agobia el proselitismo. me reconforta que muchos - independiente del color de ideología - están trabajando hombro con hombro para ayudar. para como país, salir adelante

tengo una fecha límite para ayer lunes. es para escribir una propuesta que me permita volver al Ecuador en noviembre de este año. cosas de estudios. pero quisiera estar en Ecuador ahora. no se que haría, pero por lo menos estaría ahí en tiempo real y no a 14.5 horas viendo todo en el periódico de ayer. o en el twit de ayer

la distancia siempre pesa. hoy pesa una tonelada más. y me ha apachurrado el corazón

Hallowe'en

Luego de la algarabía de la Navidad y antes de la emoción del fin de año, empezaba inocentes. Esos 10 días en que uno se podía disfrazar e ir de casa en casa. No  pidiendo caramelos, como ahora, sino rogando que la imaginación y la disponibilidad de disfraces in promptu hagan que no seamos reconocibles. Nadie hablaba. A muchos se nos veían sólo los ojos y la picardía en ellos. Bastaba para que a uno se le reconozca para que el grupo caiga en la desgracia de haber sido reconocido ni bien entrando. Habían comparsas organizadas, habían dúos, tríos y solitarios. Habían quiénes no calzaban y a quiénes cuyo disfraz vencía la imaginación y el conocimiento y no se alcanzaba a determinar de qué estaban disfrazados. No faltaban guaguas aterrorizados, perros erizados y gatos en su mundo. No faltaba el ´unito´ que sellaba el reconocimiento y el del ´estribo´ cuando estábamos de salida.

Luego del 6 de enero salíamos a las calles en comparsas, en dúos y en tríos. El centro de Cuenca retumbaba con música, risas, gritos y el Papá Noel atrasado de Navidad. Iniciaba a media tarde, terminaba cuando terminaba. Ni antes ni después. Habían premios a las mejores comparsas y la ventaja de mantener una tradición nuestra.

Fuente: Buzzfeed

Ahora celebramos Hallowe'en. Sabemos que es una fiesta muy popular en los Estados Unidos pero con orígenes celtas. Sabemos que hay que decir “Trick or Treat” aunque no sepamos qué significa. Sabemos que hay que ir de casa pidiendo caramelos, chupetes, chicles y bombones – como recitan los niños en los buses y sabemos también que mientras más fantasmagóricos sean los disfraces más metidos estamos en Hallowe'en. Nos preparamos con antelación: compramos ornamentos naranjas, sombreros negros puntiagudos, globos, diademas con cachos luminosos y llenamos la despensa con caramelos, chupetes, chicles y bombones – como recitan los niños en los buses. Algunos – conocedores desde adentro de la cultura estadounidense – lo defienden. Otros, como yo, luego de haber perdido la batalla, nos sometemos a esta invasión de tradiciones foráneas que amenazan eliminar lentamente las propias. Nos globalizamos. Dejamos de ser únicos para ser parte del montón. Del montón que no sabe que celebra, pero celebra igual porque el mundo comercial – los escaparates, alacenas y ofertas de mercado – nos dicen que debemos hacerlo. Porque si no, no estamos en nada.

La globalización va estandarizando el globo terráqueo. Borrando fronteras y límites. Pero también va amenazando tradiciones que tienen su razón de ser en los almanaques de antaño y que son parte de nuestro patrimonio cultural. De hablar cantado. De tener un cancionero por vocabulario. De ser cuencano. 

[Artículo publicado en Diario El Tiempo de Cuenca, Ecuador el 31 de octubre del 2015 - http://www.eltiempo.com.ec/noticias-opinion/11475-hallowea-en/]

Rereading Harry Potter

I read the Harry Potter books as they came out. I lived in the Galapagos Islands where everything took forever to get to and somehow I was able to read them relatively shortly afterwards. I managed to get a copy of the first one, released in June 1997, around February 1999. I was 28. I read each book at least three times. The second immediately after the first. The third just before the next book would come out. In those early Harry Potter years, I travelled to Melbourne for a conference on lobsters and relatives and I went into a building that seemed – to me – how the Great Hall in Hogwarts would like that in a smaller version. I got the CD of the soundtrack.

I recommended who ever wanted to read something, to start with Harry Potter. Some took it as joke. Especially when the movies were coming out. Few understand while not all gave the books a go.

I think I made my point.

Now I am re reading them with my son Theo. He is 10 and has seen the movies. The first three. We are in Book 3. The Chamber of Secrets. One chapter a night. Sometimes after he falls sleep, I start reading the next chapter to keep remembering. And then I normally start wondering whether the movies are so well done that match the general idea of the book? Or our visual memories from watching the movies have created the movie characters as the real ones in the books. I cannot imagine a better Hermione. I could see her attitude in class with the hand flying above everyone’s head. I could perfectly picture her saying – “It’s LeviOsa, not LeviosA”. Ron with his Ron face. His family just matching the abbreviated description. Harry – his parents, too.

Nina just can’t put the books down. She told me that her favourite so far was The Goblet of Fire. I just told her to keep the small details handy. I wonder what she thinks now that she is in the Order of the Phoenix. She tells me how scared she is with the Forbidden Forest. She reads them in spare minutes in school. We talk about merpeople and dragon eggs. And it all started after we bought her a wand in the Harry Potter Theme Park in Orlando. She had not read the books, and I told her that if she wanted that wand, she will have to read the first three books of Harry Potter. She reluctantly agreed. After she finished Book 3 I told her she did not have to read anymore. Thank you very much. She told me ‘no way’. She is in Book 5.

If there is a book I really like, I prefer not to watch the movie. I have not watched “Like water for Chocolate” (although everyone tells me it is a good adaptation). I just don’t have the intention of watching it. Somehow the magic the books, the spells, the locations, Hogwarts and the candles floating in mid air, made me want to see how it was transcribed into film. So, still a bit despondent, I watched 7 out of the 8 movies. I did not see ‘The Chamber of Secrets’ for some unknown reason.

This time around, I am still finding out things neither the movie or previous times reading the book I had realised. And how that little piece fits together. I am so enjoying Harry Potter the fourth time around.

aquí, mashando...

Luego del almuerzo familiar salíamos a mashar en el jardín al frente de la casa. A veces en la de campo. Migrábamos como golondrinas buscando el calor de la tarde. A echarnos en el césped largo y picoso donde daba el sol. El olor del césped pisoteado en la algarabía de poner los ponchos, almohadones y casacas resaltaba la conexión con la tierra.  La jardinera cercana y sus rosas olorosas completaban la orquesta de olores.

"paula mashando" por graciela monsalve durán

Todos nos poníamos cabeza con cabeza. Hombro con hombro. Unos de espalda, la mayoría boca abajo. Unos dormían el sueño de los justos, otros asimilaban el calor de la tarde y los olores de la proximidad de la tierra, el resto entonaban la conversa propia del llacta. La tertulia empezaba con lo delicioso del almuerzo y poco a poco mutaba hacia el clima, el matrimonio del sobrino, la cosecha de julio y la siembra en octubre.

Los que estaban boca arriba jugaban a buscar formas en las nubes. Los que estaban boca abajo buscaban tréboles de cuatro hojas – como si fueran éstos receta para la felicidad. Con ahínco y perseverancia. Encontraban hormigas y arañas saltarinas. Saltamontes asustados. Los que hablaban buscaban emociones en los ojos de su interlocutor. Se veían claramente. Había conexión. Conexión con las nubes – el aire; los tréboles como un bosque lleno de fauna minúscula – la tierra; con nuestros seres queridos – el fuego, por el calor humano.  Hacíamos una tertulia cálida y llena de sentimientos.

Ahora, apenas al almuerzo termina con la una mano llevamos el plato a la cocina y con la otra revisamos el celular. La mirada fija en ese aparato frío y demandante. Ese que nos indica permanentemente que hay algo ahí - lejos - que es más importante que el calor humano cercano. Si no nos tropezamos es porque ya conocemos el camino. De memoria, por la práctica permanente. Es imperante ver qué pasó en el mundanal ruido durante nuestra ausencia cibernética. Esos breves momentos dónde dejamos de tener amigos virtuales para socializar con los reales. Con quiénes nos rodean y nos pueden dar un abrazo de esos apapachadores.

Ya no mashamos. Ya no nos miramos a los ojos con intención. Miramos a los ojos buscando una pausa minúscula que permita desviar nuestra mirada al celular. A esa lucecita que nos permite ausentarnos si bien estamos físicamente presentes. Ya no conocemos el olor del césped pisoteado en la algarabía. Ya no podemos discernir los olores de la jardinera cercana y sus rosas olorosas. Los celulares todavía no han logrado emular ese sentido. Y poco a poco nos vamos sumergiendo en una realidad virtual que nos conecta más con las máquinas y menos con los humanos. Creo que la solución podría estar en volver a mashar…