Sunday, August 30, 2009

On a mission

Nate and I ducked our hooded heads out of the rain and into the sugary aroma of the artisanal pastry shop at kilometer 8. We browsed the fresh baked bread and refrained from outright drooling on the impeccable designer cakes. Upon eyeing the bundle of crackers, I turned and asked the woman behind the counter, “so I’ve been wondering how to make crackers. Is it like making bread, except…?”

That’s as far as I got. She shot me a look and replied with the exasperated Spanish version of, “oh honey, I don’t know how to make them. They’re made in the factory and I’ve never even stepped a foot into that place.”

Defeated, I grudgingly picked out a tasty factura for the road. So much for a homey artisan shop.

Why am I so uptight about my pastry shop woman knowing something about what she’s selling? For the same reason that I try to avoid the sterile gigantic supermarkets and their terribly tempting lower prices in favor of small local venues.

No, not because I’m some idealist protester against the enormous capitalist globalization conglomerate that is usurping our food production, but rather because I’m a realist and a concerned global citizen. I prefer to know where my food comes from and to have a clean conscious of knowing that its path from seed to plate is not leading to the further destruction of this planet.

Whether or not you believe in global climate change or our increasing role in propelling it, there is no doubt that our daily actions are not helping the environment in which we live. From our energy, water, and gas use to the trash that we produce, bag up, and send to the dump where it seemingly disappears. We are using up or polluting precious resources without developing alternatives for the future. We are living on borrowed time that future generations will have to pay back one way or another. It doesn’t matter on which side of the political spectrum you lie, it is produced by and its effects are felt by all of us.

But why is it oh-so-important to have a healthy environment anyway? It doesn’t at all factor into the daily grind of getting up, getting to school or work, getting to after school or work activities, going home, going to bed. Or does it?

Human survival depends upon the availability of certain key ingredients. Food, oxygen, and water. Everything else is comfort (Hard to believe there was once life without cell phones or internet; although for certain stretches of time travelling, I had neither. And I survived).

Water.

Water is available to most of us by means of a kitchen or bathroom faucet. It is easy to forget that it must eventually come from some geographic location and must have undergone some purification treatment.

I will never forget Peru. When traveling, in general, it is imperative to be conscious of what you eat and what you drink. Bacteria vary between country to country and if your digestive system comes into contact with a never-been-seen-before strain, you may end up with the crummy tummy. I am a self-proclaimed adventurous eater. I’ll eat just about anything the locals eat. And sure, I get a little sick here and there, but it’s never anything too serious. Until Peru.

Imagine, hiking down from Machu Picchu, glorious lush trees everywhere. Humidity falling from the sky in droplets. It was misty and magical. But I didn’t feel good. Suddenly I was overcome with the urge to purge everything I had eaten in the last 24 hours. So I did. And did again. Next thing I knew, my face was quite literally bright red and I was simultaneously burning and freezing. I could do nothing but stay in bed caught in a fit of throwing off and huddling under the covers. The minutes until the doctor showed up at my bedside, I was in a panic. I was not well. The meds helped suppress the symptoms enough so that the next day I was on a train to Cuzco. In Ollantaytambo, I had no appetite for a delicious veggie soup and the next symptom appeared. I spent our layover in the quaint cobblestone-street town, in the restaurant’s bathroom. I made it to Cuzco and my symptoms worsened. A doctor was called when I started writhing in pain, scaring my dormmates out of the room. I came to the scariest realization while sitting in the hostel’s bathroom. I hadn’t eaten in days and I was losing nutrients quickly by every means possible. I feared that my body wouldn’t be able to combat whatever it was that was making me so sick. That’s when my head began to spin and I felt completely helpless. I was no longer in charge of my body’s wellbeing. I thought I wasn’t going to make it out of Cuzco. It was very humbling.

I was sick for the next month (yes, 30 days of forcing myself to eat soup while suppressing the simultaneous urge to throw up and run to the nearest bathroom) and I lost a lot of weight, but I did pull through. Why am I sharing this less-than-pleasant-but-happy-ending story? Because it taught me the importance of having clean water. I will no longer just turn on my kitchen faucet and let it run. I’ll celebrate every glass of potable water that I draw from the convenience of my own home, knowing there are many many many many people out there without such luxury (and without the means to pay for a doctor and the consequent medications). And although sometimes we forget it, clean water comes from clean environments. Let’s not take our environments for granted.

Oxygen.

One thing I remember from biology class is that we breathe in oxygen and breathe out carbon dioxide; plants breathe in carbon dioxide and out oxygen. It’s a beautiful harmonic cycle. How lucky we are to have a renewable source of life!

Then why do we destroy the very beings that give us fresh air? Why do we crowd ourselves into concrete forests of cities and crisply groomed suburbs? It’s like we’re purposely making the earth less inhabitable for ourselves! I think we’re the only species on this planet that is deliberately destroying its own habitat.

We need green leafy plants to breathe. Period. Why do we constantly try to deny this fact when we pursue progress and production? There are ways to move metaphorically forward while being ecologically and environmentally conscious. Let’s do our best to protect, not uproot, the source of our breathable air.

Food.

First, I have a confession: I may have a little bit of an obsession with food. Okay, that’s an understatement. I have a terrible, uncontrollable, constant obsession with food. I may or may not spend a good fraction of every day thinking about food (past, present and future). I love food shopping, eyeing my next course in a careful combination of raw ingredients. I love food preparation, from the washing to cutting, from sautéing to baking. It relaxes me more than a chocolate ice cream sundae with extra whipped cream. And I sure love eating the fruits (and veggies) of my labor! Taste is my favorite of the five senses, the way the flavors subtly mix to create a symphony of new combinations that leave my mouth wanting more and my belly waving the white flag of satiety. That, to me, is bliss.

Recently I have developed a taste for food politics. No wait! Don’t tune out!!! Come back! Let me explain. It’s really not that dry, boring or scary of a topic. I promise.

It’s about knowing where your food comes from and sometimes altering your consuming habits based on what you find. If we should argue for any basic freedoms, shouldn’t we have the right to know where and how our food is made? I think that perhaps the fuel and nutrients that enter our body should be something we care about and perhaps invest in, not the newest techie gadget or fashion fad. Why not make a big deal about food? Food is important, spectacular, succulent, interesting, and fun!

After poking my nose around the origins of conventionally produced industrial food, I found a fairly foul odor that reeked of harmful chemicals, petroleum, antibiotics, and a gargantuan quantity of toxic waste. Not only in the notoriously blamable fast food chains, but also in conventional supermarkets. From the produce section to the canned goods, from the drinkables to the edibles. It is never appetizing to discover such findings about things we ingest and, yes, it would be much easier for me to simply ignore them. But I can’t! The cognitive dissonance resounding in my head would be overwhelming!

So what do I do? I looked into alternatives. How could I eat with a clear conscience? I found that locally and organically produced edibles met my high standards of quality. And it makes sense! Why eat bananas (picked green from the next hemisphere over and shipped thousands of miles to my supermarket) when I can walk down to my local farmers’ market (meet those dedicated, hardworking and severely underappreciated folks who dedicate their lives feed us) and see what’s fresh in my neighborhood? What arises from those stalls not only tastes fantastic, but it supports local economic endeavors that I agree with. Wait! Supports local economies?! Aren’t we in the middle of an economic crisis? Perfect!

I recently asked my local fruit and veggie vendor, Carlos, where his produce came from. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that it all came from within Argentina (a country with a surprising diversity of terrain and climate) with the exception of kiwis and avocados from Chile. The spinach in our salad that night was from a local farm only an hour drive away!

Apart from fresh produce, Nate and I are experimenting with homemaking different kinds of breads (and thus pizzas!), sandwiches, yogurts, noodles, sauces, soups, stews and casseroles! In our nine months in Bariloche, we have still never eaten in a restaurant. We both agree we feel much healthier and happier (and richer! Cooking from raw local ingredients saves us a lot of pesos per week). And although some people might argue that farmers’ markets are more expensive than the nearest Costco, they are probably right. However, if there’s anything we should be investing in, shouldn’t it be food? The quality of the produce is far superior, the revenue is going straight into the local economy (not for foreign oil or fancy packaging), and it is so much fun to experiment in the kitchen with new ingredients!

All that being said, the purple-shirted girl has set off on a green mission. My goal is to explore different options of living sustainably. Learning to take charge of what I consume and take responsibility for what waste products I may create will make me a better and happier global citizen. Whatever blogposts follow will deal with these issues and include my successes and failures along the way. And recipes!

Happy drinking, breathing, eating, and living!

Friday, August 14, 2009

Northern Hemisphere. and back

The landescaper and I ventured northward.

We arrived in New York, jetlagged and shaken from culture shock. In New York City, I stayed. The landescaper had further destinations that included scaling large rock walls.

My vacation was simple. Rollerblading and exploring by day. Dancing by night.

Have I mentioned that I love New York City? A lot?

One week surely wasn't enough. But it's all I had. After that I joined the landescaper and his father in Boston and even further northward we journeyed into the previously-unfamiliar-to-me territory of Maine. We spent a week in Maine adventuring and planning for the landescaper's sister's wedding.

The wedding was beautiful. Actually beautiful to the 27th power. Words really fail to describe. Pictures to come. Many felicitaciones for the newly married couple and their friends and family.

And then it was plane-to-plane-to-plane-to-plane-to-plane back to Bariloche. Where we are now. Classes have resumed. Swine flu panic has subsided. The snow has come. I feel healthier and happier than ever.

And in four months I hit the road again. This time in a big big bigbigbigbig way! Stay tuned.