Refleciones de Cancun

I am still not entirely clear on exactly who pulls the strings around massive UN fandangos such as that which blurred past me in Cancun. Judging by the frantic questions, shrugged shoulders, vacant looks and puffy eyes that i repeatedly encountered, my vague understanding is not unique.

My biggest qualm is that I'm not sure that I see the connection between ministers of nearly every country you have ever heard of - and some you may not have (Kiribati, eg) - making very similar statements to a half-empty room of yawning delegates (who are doing nothing besides preparing their own statements) and the parade of closed door meetings where the various aspects of this years deal are fought over tooth and nail for every syllable.

But somehow, from some room, drafts started appearing at the documents booth. And out came the red pens of observers tracking every potentially significant piece of minutiae in the laborious syntax of UN meets legalese. Meetings being recalled to alter the word 'involving' to including. Hopes raised by the strategic addition of the word 'compelling'. Its all a bit overwhelming, even for someone who likes words a lot (me).

My hopes were dimmed, my blood pressure boiled, by how much of the final meeting was dedicated to apologizing to the Bolivian delegation for problems with UN security while entering the meeting (actually, i would like to know what the carbon footprint of stalling a meeting like that is). Not joking, this topic was returned to 8 times, with pathetically PC diatribes from the COP pres and other delegations of apology, condolence and 'sincere' hope that 'we' could move forward. Good grief. Climate change people; the central topic.

Bolivia fought tooth and nail to show it did not support the final document on this topic. Though severely implied, from what I remember, the word 'veto' did not leave from their Salón's (their chief negotiator) mouth. Pretty fun to watch. I'm not sure on the legal ins and outs, but he seemed pretty certain that it could not pass with his disapproval. No one else seemed to think this. A point reaffirmed by the sound of the Ms. Espinosa's, who thanked him for his comments several times - but none so dismissively as when her wrist directed said gavel towards its thumping point.

It all ended a bit surreal for me. Some bizarre hybrid of rave in the late 90's, and restless morning dreams I imagine people who unwillingly work in corporatelandia have as their alarms beep on expensive bedside tables. After sleep briefly forced my hand around 3 am, I woke up on the carpet under the "Biology of Mexico" exhibit in the atrium, arms wrapped into my backpack, confused as all hell. Bolivia was back on the 'big brother' screens in the press conference room. I couldn't find my friends. People were giving each other massages and hugs - but they were wearing suits and using big words. Everything seemed really glowy and blurry - no doubt a function of collectively no sleep. People asked me questions in english I couldn't understand. Calderon gave his final words from 'Big Brother.' I finally found one friend, but passed out under a stairway amidst a fallen mosh pit of journalists and civil society members scattered about. I somehow forced out the end of an article, and went searching the main plenary hall for a more robust, clear conclusion to it all. I found more suit-zombies, a sea of coffee cups and a distinct feeling of utter confusion. I gave up, and took the shuttle bus back to my hostel with a truly interesting selection of national delegates passed out at every angle possible. When I woke up at the final stop, the sun had beat me.

Ultimately, with a touch of process time, I think the outcome is decent. But to me, remains in similar limbos as always: no one's bound to anything, and its not abundantly clear to me 'what' exactly countries are going to do to make any improvements.

Now, back in my freezing house in Mexico City, I hope the people that matter - people who make political decisions in their respective countries, especially the big emitters - seemed a bit more clear on how things had ended, and that they are taking back concrete realities to work towards, not just the hazy feelings of 'what the eff does this all mean?!?' that I know for a fact I was not alone in feeling.

Deforestation Deal

The end of UN conference was raucous. More on that later. I stuck it out until the bitter 5 am end, partially cuz I wanted to, and partially to put the finishing touches on this article, and make it as accurate as vague UN info allows.

Looks most specifically at forestry's role within the agreements from Cancun, mainly packaged under REDD + (Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and forest Degradation).

African Unity at the Climate Change Conference

Through some late night determination, I got this sucker through. A story about African nations working together to have a voice in the conference - a voice that rivals the major players like China, the US, India, Brazil and the EU.

Its on the (great) PRI show, The World.

Slowness

the title of this blog post remains the central theme of complaints from people. A woman from the north of Kenya on the delegation that I walked to the Africa group meeting. The Sudanese forestry delegate that I sat with on the morning bus, and has now turned down 4 of my requests for interview. My 4 am taxi driver the other night.

Last night, nine buses stood in line to take, running, engines on. That was for just one of the 9 numbered lines. This figure does not include the several smaller lines that patrol all lados of the conference. The other night, I took the number 5 shuttle bus back to my hotel. I was the only one on it. I don't understand.

People always complain about airplanes being bad for the environment. They cause 2% of global emissions - same as the IT industry (which mainly comes from their massive servers storing all your retarded emails that you will NEVER re-read, all the back issues of Gardener's Monthly and basically everything you ever click on throughout the world wide internets. What? You don't believe me? Go ahead, snoop around

After working for roughly 26 hours straight, I drank two beers and ate a bag of chips in 9 minutes. I felt very desperate before; worse after. A girl I never met made me a sandwich. I felt bad after the first consumption, better after the second, then bad again when I drank two coffees to combat all the ills. What a tangled web we weave.

Felipe Calderon is currently talking calmly about how we need to act quick on climate change. I am not wasting finger strokes on that.

Ohhh... here comes Zuma. Guess what he's gonna say.

c'mon, guess

"Felipe Calderon and Mexico have done a great job."

One thing I would like to know but never will: how many trees go into printing receipts that people will never use every year? (HT Nab, for starting that thought process 10 years ago)

The president of Nauru just narrowly escaped my efforts to nab him.

Finally, a question that no one seems able to answer here: who the fuck is actually making the decisons around here? Who signs where? I have yet to figure this out.

Climate Change Protests

Article on Global Post about the two alternative conferences at Cancun, and the march they held yesterday.

not from the main event

brazil’s booth has cleavage-popping blondes posing with business casual crowds for iphone pictography. Mediocre food costs exhorbitant amounts. I ate lunch with the delegate for Malawi. He is exceptionally nice man. The sandwich he ate cost 80 pesos, my salad 90. I was not happy about this. Malawi’s GDP works out to roughly 20 pesos/day.

Everyone seems to want the talks to go somewhere. Everyone wants their voice heard. I could not estimate how many thousands of voices I heard, or saw lining up, pining tob be heard today.

I ran into my friend Yurfee from Liberia. That remains a highlight of the conference.

Sitting on a couch. In the table in front there are three 3 - 5 inch stacks of pamphlets about various things that could be construed as related to the environment. Without moving my head, I can see 8 other tables. In my backpack, there is roughly one inch of various pamphlets forced onto me. By only moving my eyes, I count 17 backpacks. Deforestation counts for 20 % of GHG emissions; transportation, 15%.

I think too many people confuse ‘question and answer’ periods with street corners, and themselves as preachers.

I put my notebook down and turned around to face the urinals. When I turned back again it was gone. Livid. Happened to see a lost and found sign while exiting. They had it. Restored faith, diminshed anger.

Me CC Article

An intro article about the climate change conference, (COP 16) from a couple days.

A more personal interpretation falls below.

bye!

(all calm on the western front: boothdom)

i wonder what visiting peoples think about the mexican army, masked and toting AK’s patrolling the town on the back of broken pick ups. as they rolled by my bus, that was my first cancun COP 16 thought.

half empty conference rooms with monotone jokes told through european accents. endless booths with endless stacks of paper. the especially overpriced ‘international’ food that seems to follow the UN around. lots of suits and lots of laptops.

'it should be picking up steam’ this week.

lot of people at a big important conference, lost in the labyrinth of open space, people who are too environmentally important to smile back a hello and conference times scattered around the various venues.

somewhere outside, the lone wind turbine lops around listlessly, providing the dubious claim to COP’s sustainability. “efficient vending machines” dot the concrete horizon. from the TV, the representative form the maldives proclaims his dedication to the conference, followed closely by costa rica’s rep, and, presumably, everyone else. who goes against the grain on that one? the loud volume echoes through the open space.

so many people straight up lied to me regarding directions/instructions that I suspect a plot.

exhibit A, finding a friend in the media department.

arrive, ask an official. for the listed address. “see that building? walk past the left side of it. easy.” person at said building, pointing exactly where I came from. “follow the signs that way”. fine (to his credit, there were signs.) Enter the exception to the rule, the helpful (read: informed) lady, who says, “back that building, take a bus to NIZCU. this is Azteca.” upon arrival and at my request of where the media center is, the response from three members of welcoming committee. 1) upstairs to the left 2) upstairs to the right 3) ‘todo derecho’ - there is “no media center along the outside of this building”. I select option dos, and select an appropriately labeled door. “Yes, she [my friend] is two doors down, toca”, followed by, “oh, around the corner, number 614.”

that is about half my story. i just don’t feel like going on.

now, stalking international officials from obscure countries. everyone seems to be adhering to sunday being the lord’s day. a few people on laptops, one inspecting shots on his camera, and presumably a focus group in the corner. its unofficial boss lady likely doubles as an advert for type A.

the alternative conference and march (part one) earlier today. a lot more types than A.

where is Africa in all of this? any country... where are you?

i’ve run into three blasts from the past in 2 days. hoping for more, but aware that my hoping negates the chances.

i just got an email transcript of president Calderon’s speech today. he used tortilla machines as an allegory for making small changes to move along.

then he said a lot of things that I sincerely hope will happen here. starting tomorrow of course. Its still sunday.

Environmentals, Cancun and Twitter

(quick: spot 10 things I hate about Cancún in this photo... from the final day of our Zapatista trip)

I once swore I would never go to Cancún (let "once" equal 100 times). Yet, tomorrow will mark the second time in three months that I will grace its presence. The first being after following a group of Zapatista migrants up to find work in Playa del Carmen, and discovering a whole network of indigenous migrant workers searching for non-existent work amidst the slowing tourist growth.

Tomorrow I start covering the final week of the climate change conference, COP 16. An article I wrote on the topic was to come out today, but I haven't seen it, so no link.

I'm pretty excited about the conference, and do legitimately think there is potential for progress. This opinion may change upon seeing the process in action, but my opinion is based on talking to lots of people, and reading tons o stuff. ie not on nothing.

If you are looking for more info, The Guardian has probably the best overall site regarding the conference on their very comprehensive Environment page.

As a side note, I have been surprised at the lack of commentary about Cancun, of all places, being the host.

And, speaking of Cancún hypocrisy, I am experimenting with something. Its called Twitter. Gonna try it out at the conference, and see what I think. Please feel free to follow me @esteyonage. I currently have two followers.

Finally, I just think the whole Wikileaks thing is fascinating. Form all angles.

A Day in the Life

(the standard cooking set up in the Zapatista zone, where beans and tortilla is always what's cookin', with the occasional taste of the below)



(a rare treat of an addition to dinner)


If you've been reading this blog the past little while, you are more than aware that I spent some time in Chiapas with my beloved henchman, Grantimus Maximus.

I almost forgot to put a post up about this story we did. If you knew how much work and planning and waiting and cajoling and (literally) begging for permission and editing and traveling and sleeping on doors and eating nothing but beans, and how much money we got at the end of all that, you would understand the extent of this sacrilidge.

Thus, I present to you 'A Day in the Life of a Zapatista Community' for the World Vision Report. Grants on the mic for the radio part, and a short photo gallery by moi of very normal life amongst a community known mainly for its balaclavas, guns and mysterious leader.

Sometimes good things require lots o work. I think this one is good. Also one of my favourite stories to actually do. Super fun day, that day, with the usual cast of unbelievably friendly peoples making it that way.


(a woman who made us delicious tea one night, stands by her kitchen stove)


(in a nearby village on a separate day, the community put on their masks to show off the Zapatista himn, which is still sung regularly, though without masks. The masks are worn so as not to show faces and to maintain the idea of equality)