brad brace contemporary culture scrapbook

The fish-skin bikini is a new fashion trend in Thailand. Made out of tilapia skin, a waterproof bikini costs $75. Tilapia fish skin used to be sold for a few cents as a fried snack, but a few years ago its skin became well known in the leather market for its durability. A Thai leather vendor made a bikini from pieces of 15 fish stitched together. The fish skin, which now costs about $1.25, is dried and dyed. The bikini was unveiled at a fashion show, and tilapia skin is now used for handbags and shoes as well.

The United States of America started to view Nicaragua as a serious threat when, on 19 July 1979, the Nicaraguan dictator, Anastasio Somoza, was overthrown by the Sandinista National Liberation Front. To ensure that Nicaragua would not become a communist government, America began to support the Contras groups and decided to take up the responsibility of assisting the local communities to fight against the government, but without encouraging a revolt. It was with this in mind, that the C.I.A. began to compile the Freedom Fighter’s Manual.

In any war, revolt or uprising it is always the innocent civilians, children and women that seem to bear the brunt of the fighting. They often feel helpless, as they do not have the means, knowledge or tools to either be a part of the war or to be in control of their own destinies. The Freedom Fighter’s Manual was designed to be easily understood and was a fifteen page booklet of ideas, plans and actions that citizens would be able to use to destabilize the government, without the use of weapons or putting themselves in harms way.

In 1983, thousands of the booklets were airdropped over Nicaragua. Even though the Freedom Fighter’s Manual recommended that all actions were to be taken in pairs of two, there were a few pages that could benefit individuals. Divided into various sections, the booklet had instructions on how to disrupt the workplace by causing damage, calling in sick, clogging bathroom toilets and cutting cables. Public disruption was also included with methods, such as setting livestock free, graffiti, blocking roads and cutting the electricity. To disable vehicles, the booklet suggested how to cause damage with dirt, ice picks and candles and explained how the electrical system worked. The booklet even showed citizens how to make a Molotov cocktail and use explosives.

The existence of the Freedom Fighter’s Manual was exposed in 1984 when a copy of the booklet was given to an American journalist by a Nicaraguan Contra.

ADAM’S BRIDGE, India — In the emerald waters separating India and Sri Lanka lies a long chain of sand-capped rocky formations. Devout Hindus believe the god Ram built the shoals before a battle with a demon king. Fishermen along India’s coast believe the shoals saved them from a tsunami three years ago. And environmentalists treasure them for their patch reefs, sea fans, sponges and pearl oysters.

Now, however, the shoals — which form what is known as Adam’s Bridge — are being threatened by the construction of a massive sea canal.

The Indian government began dredging the shallow ocean bed two years ago and is now poised to break apart Adam’s Bridge, whose demolition is necessary to allow ships to traverse a direct route between the Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal. But the project has become entangled in a complex web of resistance from environmentalists, fishermen, political parties and Hindu activists.

Opposition to huge industrial projects is common in India, but the controversy over Adam’s Bridge, or Ram Sethu, marks one of the first times religion has become an obstacle to major development. Thousands of Hindu protesters have rallied in the streets since last week, blocking traffic and chanting, “We will save Ram Sethu, we will save Hindu heritage!”

“Millions of Hindus believe that Ram built that bridge across the sea. Our scriptures and epics mention it,” said Surendra Jain, a leader of the World Hindu Council, a hard-line Hindu group. “We will not let them destroy our religious heritage.”

An ambitious project with an estimated cost of more than $500 million, the Sethusamudram Shipping Canal was originally envisioned in 1860, and at least 14 proposals have been abandoned over the years because India lacked the financial resources to build it.

Ships coming from the Arabian Sea currently go around Sri Lanka to reach India’s east coast and Bangladesh. With the proposed channel, 13 yards deep and 328 yards wide, ships are expected to be able to pass straight through India’s territorial waters. That would mean more revenue for India’s ports.

“The ships will save about 30 hours in navigation time,” said Rakesh Srivastava, a senior official at the Shipping Ministry in New Delhi. “More than 3,000 ships will use this channel every year. This is a very prestigious project for India and would lead to the economic transformation of the ports and the coastal people.”

While many critics have petitioned the Supreme Court in a bid to have the project scrapped, the Hindu activists support the sea canal as long as it can be built in a way that would avoid damage to Adam’s Bridge. Some activists have proposed dredging to the west of the bridge to make way for a canal.

Government officials have said that approach would be misguided. And they contend the bridge isn’t important in Hinduism.

“People have mixed religion with reality,” Srivastava said. The shoals were formed from calcium deposits and natural sedimentation over millions of years.”

In court, the government contended that the Hindu god Ram was a mythical character, an argument that only further enraged Hindus opposed to the current project. The Hindu nationalist political party, the Bharatiya Janata Party, called the statement a blasphemous insult, and the government hurriedly withdrew it.

Hindu opposition to the project is only the most recent hindrance to the canal’s completion. Naval experts have questioned assertions that the canal would save ships 30 hours in travel time, as well as the economic viability of the project. Fishermen’s unions have staged sit-ins, blocked rail traffic and petitioned the court.

Umayavel Tharakudiyan, a 55-year-old fisherman in the village of Ramakrishnapuram on the coast of Tamil Nadu state, said the dredging of sand has already reduced the number of fish he and others catch. He explained his fears by drawing a map of his village and the canal route in the sand.

“We will lose our freedom. For different kinds of fish, we go out at various times of the day. Once the ships start sailing, we will be assigned special times of the day for fishing. They will deny us entry with our boats and nets in some areas,” he said as he sat on the sandy ground outside his thatched-roof home.

His wife, Tamilarasi, said Adam’s Bridge has shielded the area during cyclones and other natural disasters. “The bridge protected us from the tsunami,” she said. “Once that goes, our villages may disappear in the next cyclone.”

Although the government has received formal environmental clearance for the canal, there are lingering concerns about the impact it would have on a marine biosphere reserve 12 miles west of the area to be dredged. A row of 21 islands rich in coral reefs, sea turtles, dolphins and sea cows, the reserve is one of the most biologically diverse areas in South Asia.

A recent government report said the canal could “drastically alter the dynamics of the ecosystems” in the biosphere.

“Sea animals communicate through waves, and the dredging work disturbs them. In the last six months, sea cows are losing their way and are seen closer to the shore,” said Rakesh Kumar Jagenia, the wildlife warden at the Gulf of Mannar Biosphere Reserve. “It will get worse once the ships start sailing, with the high noise levels and thermal pollution.”

Environmental activists and fishermen complain that despite their long struggle, it is the religious claim to Adam’s Bridge that has provoked the most public interest and drawn a reaction from the Supreme Court. Meanwhile, ecologists and fishermen’s groups are reluctant to build alliances with the Hindu nationalist organizations.

“People are debating nonissues,” said T.S.S. Mani, an activist fisherman opposed to the canal. “This is a battle for environment, people’s lives and livelihoods, but unfortunately it has acquired a religious branding.”

Bluefields, Nicaragua — As dark clouds approached, Guillaume Craig packed up his tools, climbed into a rickety boat and sped off from a small fishing village, hoping to make the three-hour commute downriver before nightfall. The boat wasn’t quite fast enough, so the former Oakland resident used a flashlight to guide his way back through endless miles of tropical forest.

“That was actually our easiest site to reach,” said Craig, whose San Francisco-based Blue Energy foundation is delivering renewable energy to hundreds of residents along Nicaragua’s remote Caribbean coast.

Craig, 31, his brother, Mathias, 33, and a small crew of volunteers have been traversing the muddy backwaters, installing solar panels and windmills for free and bringing renewable energy to villages, schools and health clinics where none existed before.

“It could make a huge difference in rural areas,” said Mathias Craig, who says he has always been fascinated with wind power. “You can’t even reach a lot of these places with power lines.”

The San Francisco nonprofit has attracted the attention of the government of President Daniel Ortega, who has expressed interest in alternative technology to help alleviate the country’s energy crunch. Within the next six months, the Craigs say, Blue Energy wind turbines will be tested at a UC Berkeley field station in Richmond. If they pass international standards, the Ortega government will consider using them countrywide.

Since June, many regions across the nation have experienced four- to eight-hour-a-day blackouts, prompting even Pacific Coast resort developers to knock on Blue Energy’s doors. For now, the brothers say, the tourist areas will have to take a backseat to underserved rural communities. “We are a nonprofit,” said Guillaume Craig.

Nearly 80 percent of Nicaragua’s electricity is powered by oil. In July, Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez financed the construction of a 150,000-barrel-a-day, $2.5 billion refinery – the largest in Central America – as part of his oil-funded battle against U.S. influence in Latin America. Chavez has also sent generators to help offset the rolling blackouts.

Mathias Craig, who studied civil engineering at UC Berkeley, says Blue Energy began as a graduate project at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology before being incorporated in 2003. The next year, the Craigs arrived in Nicaragua – the only country where they are currently operating – at the behest of their mother. Colette Grinevald is a linguistics professor who specializes in indigenous languages along the Caribbean coast.

Blue Energy works mainly with Rama and Miskito Indians, who form part of an autonomous zone of 650,000 inhabitants with greater independence from the national government than the rest of the country. Since it began operations in Nicaragua, Blue Energy has provided electricity to five villages and 1,400 residents. To date, the foundation’s most remote site is Punta de Aguila, a 51/2-hour trip south of Bluefields over choppy waters.

While Hurricane Dean nearly destroyed several turbines earlier in the summer, this month’s Hurricane Felix missed Blue Energy’s area of operation.

The Craigs are convinced that wind and solar power are the most practical ways to bring energy to isolated indigenous villages far removed from any power grid. Currently, the only option for most coastal dwellers is diesel-powered generators.

“Our community has always lived in darkness,” said Edgar Swartz, 32, standing in the shadow of an 80-foot Blue Energy wind turbine that powers the village of Kakabila, home to 700 people. “We think plenty about electricity.”

Separated by geography and culture, the region is among the poorest in a nation that has the dubious distinction of being the second poorest in the Western Hemisphere, with Haiti being the poorest. On the Caribbean coast, basic health services are spotty, illiteracy is 65 percent in rural areas, and an estimated 80 percent go without regular electricity.

Blue Energy operates on an annual shoestring budget of about $120,000 in grants from the government of Finland and contributions from mainly American and French donors. The Craigs hope to eventually turn a profit that will sustain their nonprofit work.

The foundation currently churns out one new wind turbine a week from the rustic port town of Bluefields, the region’s largest city with 50,000 people. Following a common design to harness wind power, the turbines are hand built and shipped in pieces in 15-foot wooden boats with outboard motors.

Blue Energy also buys solar panels from local distributors to keep communities powered during hot, nonwindy days. The full wind and solar package costs $12,000 for 1 kilowatt of power. In contrast, a small diesel generator costs about $500 and is typically affordable only for those operating local businesses.

The foundation pays for installation for entire communities, but those who want power for private use, such as charging cell phones and hooking up television sets, must purchase a special $300 battery and pay roughly $4 a month for recharging fees.

Though more expensive than generators, alternative energy will pay for itself in the long run, the brothers argue. Using nothing but wind and sun, the Blue Energy installation pumps out roughly 3,500 watt-hours of electricity each day – enough to power five homes using a small radio and refrigerator over a 24-hour period.

The Craigs estimate that it takes three windmills to sufficiently power small communities of up to 700 people with basic energy needs. They hope alternative energy will allow these villages to open night schools and improve refrigeration for the main industry along the coast – seafood.

Mathias Craig, however, said his heart sank when he saw the first installation three years ago in Punta de Aguila being used to power television sets tuned to Spanish-language soap operas.

“We don’t promote using television,” he said. “But they get to pick.”

In the meantime, the Craigs hope to train Nicaraguans in solar and wind power that will one day rival the nation’s largest privately owned electrical companies.

That makes perfect sense to Poochy Newton, 48, a Miskito fisherman who is selling his diesel generator to become the first nonbusiness user of alternative energy in Set Net Point, a four-hour boat ride north of Bluefields. Newton calculates that he will save about $30 a month by not using diesel fuel, which is shipped in, for his generator.

“Diesel is very expensive,” Newton said. “The wind is going to work out much better.”

The San Francisco-based Blue Energy foundation is delivering renewable energy to hundreds of residents along Nicaragua’s remote Caribbean coast. Guillaume Craig, 31, his brother, Mathias, 33, and a small crew of volunteers have been traversing the muddy backwaters, installing solar panels and windmills for free and bringing renewable energy to villages, schools and health clinics where none existed before… Blue Energy works mainly with Rama and Miskito Indians, who form part of an autonomous zone of 650,000 inhabitants with greater independence from the national government than the rest of the country. Since it began operations in Nicaragua, Blue Energy has provided electricity to five villages and 1,400 residents… Separated by geography and culture, the region is among the poorest in a nation that has the dubious distinction of being the second poorest in the Western Hemisphere, with Haiti being the poorest. On the Caribbean coast, basic health services are spotty, illiteracy is 65 percent in rural areas, and an estimated 80 percent go without regular electricity. Blue Energy operates on an annual shoestring budget of about $120,000 in grants from the government of Finland and contributions from mainly American and French donors. The Craigs hope to eventually turn a profit that will sustain their nonprofit work. The foundation currently churns out one new wind turbine a week from the rustic port town of Bluefields, the region’s largest city with 50,000 people. Following a common design to harness wind power, the turbines are hand built and shipped in pieces in 15-foot wooden boats with outboard motors. Blue Energy also buys solar panels from local distributors to keep communities powered during hot, non-windy days.

For years, Belize City has had an unsavoury reputation for drug-running, money-laundering and muggings.

With tourism now in mind, the government is working hard to improve its image.

Straddling a creek on Central America’s Caribbean coast, Belize City feels more West Indian than Latin.

That is not just because a majority of the population of 50,000 plus is black, and speaks English.

The town is said to be built on foundations made of ship’s ballast and empty rum bottles, left by 18th Century British traders, who came to extract timber from the forests upriver.

You can still see the sleeping quarters underneath the grander gingerbread houses, where African slaves used to be chained up for the night.

The town’s main drag, south of the swing-bridge that is Belize City’s major point of reference, is called Regent Street, though it could be a million miles from the smart London thoroughfare after which it was named.

Makeover – Old Warnings

“Do not wander off the main streets.”

“Always take a taxi from the bus station.”

“Carry some dollars in an easily accessible place, so you can just hand them over if someone pulls a gun on you.”

Belize was the last British colony to survive on the American mainland.

Over the years, I had been given so many dire warnings about Belize City that I had studiously avoided it on earlier travels round Central America.

But then more recently I had heard that the government was cleaning the place up, in an effort to boost Belize’s tourist trade.

A visitor stands out a mile in Belize City, as the humidity and the temperatures are so high that you are a dripping wreck before you have walked 200 yards.

The locals, in contrast, saunter or cycle by in immaculately dry and ironed shirts, even the cheeky schoolboys who regularly stop to try and beg a dollar.

You quickly learn to walk on the shady side of the street. And you make regular pit-stops at cooler buildings, such as St. John’s Cathedral, at the bottom of Albert Street. The cathedral is made out of curious grey bricks that were, like the city’s foundations, brought here as ship’s ballast.

Painted on a board outside, there is an earnest exhortation in Spanish: “Hoy, no manana” – today, not tomorrow.

The locals do not exactly give the impression of having taken this message to heart.

New money

North of the swing-bridge, past a smart but anonymous shopping centre that is designed to cater for the burgeoning cruise ship trade, there is a part of town more open to sea-breezes.

The huge hotel lobby has 500 slot machines on one side, leading into a casino.

There one can see some of the urban planning that has been taking shape in the authorities’ efforts to give Belize City a new image.

Landfill is enabling them to build a sweeping promenade, and some of the old buildings – battered by the hurricanes that come blowing in from time to time – have been beautifully restored.

Even if many of the local people are unemployed or poor, there is obviously a lot of money around as well.

Outside the Princess Hotel – the city’s finest – 4×4s and top-of-the-range limousines are lined up, while inside, the elite can enjoy the air-conditioned facilities.

Bizarrely, the huge hotel lobby has 500 slot machines on one side, leading into a casino. On the other, there is a cinema showing The Passion of the Christ… four times a day.

Talk about God and Mammon. I watch as a large American lady tourist pauses indecisively as she ponders these two alternatives, then heads off into the bar where they are selling pina coladas, two for the price of one.

On patrol

Back on the street, beaming smiles, tourist police on bicycles stop to wish one good-day.

Still a comparatively recent phenomenon, these police are largely credited with the marked fall in assaults on foreign visitors.

Their eagerness seems designed to extract the confession that one has not been mugged, or even felt remotely threatened.