Water: Barlow's work for water inspires communities to go blue, one at a time

At the Whistler Writers conference last week, Maude Barlow spoke with host Bill Richardson and novelist Omar el Akkad about the world's water. Barlow is one of those leading the charge against the increasingly corporate control of water. Her leadership and work were instrumental in persuading the UN to declare it a basic human right in 2010.

Nestle's 2017 annual bottled sales were $8 billion. It operates in 34 countries and owns 49 brands of bottled water, including Perrier. Vittel provides one example of the results. While Nestle pumps out a million litres a day, the local water table continues to drop. Similar water grabs are taking place in Ethiopia, Pakistan, Tasmania, Calfornia. The list goes on. While "Fiji water" is bottled in imported plastic bottles from China, Fijians lack safe water to drink.

"If placed end to end, the number of single-use plastic bottles now sold each year would extend more than halfway to the sun," Barlow tells us. 91% of these DO NOT get recycled. Nestle now owns the water park in the Brazilian spa town Sao Lourenco. In 2018, due to over-extraction and the resulting bacterial contamination, the nation's health authority banned the sale of water from that plant. In the face of protests by local women whose water supply is being drained away, Nestle still uses its "rights," permitting another company to extract water from the same well.

In another South American country, a private company claimed ownership of falling rain, and tried to forbid people to capture it. Writing at UVIC in 2014, Katie Duke pointed out in a research article that in BC, "the legality of collecting rainwater is uncertain." As US droughts increase, the issue of who "owns" the rain has come under discussion there as well.

Revealing the power of economics on government, Barlow shares the related shocking fact that "a 2016 study of the 100 top economies in the world, 69 were corporations, up from 63 the previous year." According to Global Justice Now, "the ten biggest corporations, including Walmart, Apple and Shell, make more money than most of the countries of the world combined," and "Walmart is bigger than Spain, Australia and the Netherlands."

Yet there is hope. While senior governments fail to act, continuing to support free trade agreements that define water as a saleable commodity, Blue Communities are stepping up. This movement began in 2009 in response to policies of the Harper Conservative government then in power. From Canada, where 27 municipalities joined the movement, the concept spread to cities in Europe and South America, then to institutions including universities, unions and faith-based organizations. Since the 2019 publication of Barlow's book, Victoria, Montreal and Los Angeles are among the cities that have declared themselves Blue.

In line with the 2010 UN resolution that declares water and sanitation fundamental human rights, each "Blue Community promises to protect water as a public trust," and to ensure that decisions about access to water and sanitation are made by "people and their elected officials, not by a for-profit investor." Where clean sources of water are available, Blue Communities also promises to phase out bottled water and to promote municipal tap water as safe and reliable sources.

Working toward universal access to clean water involves many other changes. By taking back control of water from corporations, individuals and communities cannot help but lighten the human footprint on our earthly home. Water is life. Rather than following the current flood of vicious propaganda that encourages shaming, blaming and tribal bunkerism, we need to come together over basic human issues that concern us all. The lesson for the 21st century is simple. As a human race, we are one. It's time to start acting that way. Promoting Blue Communities is one manageable way to begin.

Australian lore, bush tucker, and digeridoo music

The chef was Capes, an aboriginal man we met at Monkey Mia. A dozen tourists from England, Scotland, Canada and Australia followed him into the bush, where he threw a broken branch of acacia onto a fire he'd built earlier. For the promised bush tucker, he spread the coals with a stick and laid out two whole mullets, turning them by the tail with his bare hands at the right moment. When they were done, he deftly flipped them open on a branch of dry wattle. Cooked to perfection, the moist white meat was soon cool enough to eat with our fingers.

In the deepening darkness, our host pointed up at the Southern Cross, called by his people the emu in the sky. For them, the seasonal changes in the constellations - seen in the shifting position of the emu - revealed the right time to harvest the huge bird's eggs.

Another cultural lesson involved the importance of kinship. Capes, he told us, was a nickname; his real name was much longer, and saying it in full meant naming several forebears. For small groups of semi-nomadic people, awareness of kinship and clan designations enabled rules that prevented marriages between people who were too closely related.

At last it was time to play music. The women got clapsticks, while the men and boys were given the chance to try playing the digeridoo. Capes explained how the instrument is made demonstrated how to play it. Then the two young boys and the men in the group had a go. Easier said than done, the men acknowledged, but the boys began to pick up the technique.

Great Barrier Reef unlike a breakwater or garden wall

Far from being a barrier, the world's most famous reef is an enormous ecosystem comprised of living coral. The aerial view reveals its overall nature best.

Approached by boat, the reef is visible first as islets with waves breaking against them. Seen from below the waterline, the variety of coral of every conceivable shape and size is part of a teeming city of sea life, including enormous schools of fish. Below left, tiny fish swim along a sandy highway between coral cliffs.

  

Convict creations preserved in Perth

Government House, built for the governors largely by convict labour, was first occupied in 1863. Below left is the convict-built Barracks Arch, the last remains of the home built for the Pensioner Force who came out as guards on the ships that carried the convicts. Not far from Fremantle Prison, these warehouses stand as reminders of Australia's past history as a destination for criminals "transported" from England. Often the crime was being so poor they had to steal food, as poignantly portrayed in "The Fields of Athenry."

 

Tall glass towers reduce world's cities to a bland similarity

Left: Opposite Sydney's Central Train Station, these generic giants show their Australian identity only by the odd flower growing bravely between them -- a Gymea lily. Looming over the unique beauty of the Opera House and the historic Sydney Harbour bridge (below), enormous new buildings blot out the older sites around Circular Quay. The same trend holds in Perth and Melbourne, Toronto and Vancouver, Beijing and Shanghai. Along with the politically embarrassing statues now being torn down, the unique history of the world's varied cities is steadily being erased. Apparently in service of capitalism.

A well-travelled Boab tree

Now growing happily in King's Park, this boab tree, called Gija Jumulu for the Gija people, has not always lived in Perth, Australia. Ten years ago, it made a journey of 32,000 km from the East Kimberly, dropping two tons of water on the way. About 750 years old, it could double that age. Uprooted to make way for roadbuilders, this venerable tree is now cared for by arborists, and attracts many visitors to the botancial gardens.

The giant boab tree is the source of one of Ian White's Australian Bush Flower Essences. Boab essence sweeps out the energy of prejudice and negative family patterns, clearing the way for healthier and more positive habits of thought.