Off The Beaten Track: Earth-Friendly Eating

Our guest this week is Lavanya Sunkara, an Indian-American freelance writer living in Long Island, New York. Her work has appeared in Salon, Time Out, Petside, Yahoo! Shine, NY Resident, and Yourtango, among others. When she is not reading or outdoors with her dog, Lavanya is organizing volunteer events, exploring New York with her friends, and planning her next trip to somewhere exotic. In this post, Lavanya shares her story of how she became a vegetarian. She wishes everyone a very happy Earth Day. Read more of her articles at www.lavanyasunkara.com.

There’s been much talk about Natalie Portman giving up veganism to cater to her pregnant needs. The moment I read the headline, I feared she’d given it up entirely and decided to eat animals again. As a meat-eater turned vegetarian myself, I had a hard time believing someone that outspoken about animal rights would suddenly give up her ideals and start eating hot dogs and chicken wings. To the disappointment of vegans, she has taken up eating eggs and dairy. I can’t say I am completely against her decision, especially since I too consume those products, albeit in very limited amounts. But one thing that I will never ever do is eat meat again.

As a Hindu, I never ate beef or pork in all my 30 years. My mother, who is a lifelong vegetarian, has cooked chicken and lamb occasionally for the rest of the family, but I gave up eating them ten years ago. Relinquishing seafood is still a bit hard for me, but I went from eating it once every few months to every six months in the past few years. Starting this Earth Day, I’ve decided to give it up completely.

Some may wonder why a personal eating choice has a global effect. I can say that if we all turned vegetarians, we would have no torture of animals in slaughter houses, no pollution-causing factory farms, and no minimum wages and horrible working conditions for food production employees. Also, the amount of food, water, and energy used to raise 10 billion animals for human consumption would be used to grow food for the hungry in this world.* Alas, that's a dream that may never come true. But still, I am making a choice to contribute to a cruelty- and pollution-free world.

People sometimes ask me if I am getting a healthy diet based solely on fruits, grains, and greens. I do. So does my mother and millions of vegetarians and vegans on this planet. My grandmother gave birth to six kids and lived healthy well into her late seventies on a strictly vegetarian diet, in a small village in India. She continues to be my source of inspiration and strength. Of course, the meat industry continues the propaganda of animal flesh being healthy for humans, when in fact it’s known for increasing obesity, heart disease, cancer, reproductive disorders, liver and kidney disease among other ailments.*

Ardent meat lovers argue that animals are put on earth for us to eat, and thus it is okay to confine and abuse them, inject hormones and antibiotics, and kill them for our satisfaction. Some friends of mine have debated with me that since cavemen hunted animals back in the day and we've climbed to the top of the food chain, meat eating is justified. I have some news for you—this is the 21^st century. Today, the modern hunter-gatherer simply drives a few blocks to the supermarket, picks out a packaged meat product, cooks it on an electric stove, and calls it a feast. I would like to know how these people would fare out in the wild, fending for themselves among the beasts. I’ll give more value to their stance if they risked their own lives and hunted food with their own bare hands.

Of course, there are always those who tell me they just can’t give up meat, either because they grew up with it, or they succumb to their bodies’ cravings. I too have experienced it at one point. There was a time I used to look forward to going my aunt’s house for her spicy goat curry. When I gave up meat, I sorely missed the curry. Until one day I read a story of a baby goat that escaped from a farm truck. She was black and white, with light blue eyes and perky ears. She was adorable, almost puppy like, and she deserved to live. I knew then I had made the right decision.

Last year, during a visit to the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary** in upstate New York, I came face to face with these gracious goats. In the sanctuary that is home to more than two hundred rescued farm animals, we met with happy cows, rubbed pigs’ bellies, hugged turkeys, and played with the friendly goats. Two young pearly white goats, named Jacob and Edward by a Twilight fan, came near me for some petting. I rubbed their backs and chatted (a habit I formed thanks to my dog), as their golden eyes glimmered. I could tell they were basking in the attention. When I sat next to them, the younger one raised his front leg and patted my thigh a few times, just like my pet dog does, as if trying to communicate with me his gratitude. It was such a simple act, yet so endearing, showing acknowledgment and emotion. At that moment, I knew I made the right decision not just for myself, but also for my fellow animal friends and for the sake of this planet.

Visit www.vegkit.org for a free vegetarian starter kit.

* Source: Skinny Bitch: A No-Nonsense, Tough-Love Guide For Savvy Girls Who Want To Stop Eating Crap And Start Looking Fabulous, by Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin.

**Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary: To plan your visit, go to www.woodstocksanctuary.org.

Take A Load Off

Note: I'm getting rid of my books! Keep reading if you want one...

With Earth Day coming up this Friday, I figured it’s high time I do my share to contribute to a cleaner environment, not necessarily through the books I write (though that would be nice) but also the ones I buy. Everything’s digital now, and though I kicked and screamed all the way to this party, I finally broke down and purchased myself a Kindle.

Hear me out before you judge. I make tremendous use of my beloved library membership, checking out dozens of books, possibly more, each month. But I also have a little book-buying fetish, one that I justify by the fact that my library system doesn’t carry all the books I’m interested in reading. (They’ve cited vague purchasing criteria whenever I’ve recommended a new title so I’ve finally given up.)

But the books I buy are slowly taking over my house. They’re expensive, collect dust, and breed tiny critters. I don’t reread most of them. And whereas once they were my pride and joy, now I hope no one trips over them getting from one room to another. More on that later, but in the meantime, I've discovered another problem.

Did you know deforestation to clear way for new neighborhoods is one of the leading causes behind the spike in Lyme disease? The paper industry claims they use mostly recovered paper and lumber byproducts (such as sawdust and wood chips) to make paper but still: the United States alone prints more than 2 billion books, 350 million magazines, and 24 billion newspapers each year. That’s a lot of reading material, not counting all the many other types of paper products we not only consume but fill our landfills with.

As though those weren’t reasons enough, the cost of the Kindle went down from $189 over the holidays to $168 a few months ago, $139 a few weeks ago when I bought it, and I see there's a new offer for $114 today. That’s a substantial difference from the $250 the Nook is going for, which made it easy for me to decide between the two. (However, since then, a friend told me there’s a way to use the Nook as a small handheld computer, a feature that may make the extra cost worthwhile for some of you.)

So far, I like my little Kindle. It doesn’t display in color as the Nook does, but that’s okay. I read my books in black and white anyway. It’s easy enough for a technophobe like myself to navigate. I have yet to figure out how to view the front and back covers, inside flaps, intro pages, and so on. I don’t see page numbers on my screen, though I’ll probably figure that little feature out as soon as I post this. Instead, the bottom of the screen shows me what percentage of the book I’ve read, which I’m not sure what to make of yet. (It’s a little annoying, yet if I were holding a bound book, I’d probably be making a mental estimate anyway.) Also, I do find a lot of books aren’t yet available through Kindle. Not worried about it though. I’m sure that’s changing quickly, plus it’s not like I’m giving up paper books entirely.

Other than those quibbles, I’m fairly impressed. The no-glare screen in particular makes you feel like you’re reading real print, not text from a computer screen. I kept tilting the screen to all angles to see how that works but haven't figured it out yet. Also, the size of this extremely portable little device is hard to believe, even after seeing pictures galore. Its height and width are about the size of a trade paperback but much, much thinner. In fact, it’s only about a third the depth of my little iPhone. As well, it took no time at all to charge the battery, which so far, seems to hold a charge a good long while.

I recently won a copy of my first Kindle book, Bloodstains, through a Facebook contest by author Jeff Mudgett. (Thank you, Jeff!) I just started reading this excellent memoir and, while I'm enjoying the book itself, I was surprised to find I'm greatly enjoying the Kindle experience too. I’ve downloaded free excerpts of other novels I’m interested in reading (ones not offered through my public library) and found the prices on many others to be much lower than their print counterparts. (Side note: I attended an agent panel a month ago in which the agents said the low cost of digital books is not at all industry sustainable and that, at some point soon, publishers will have to raise their prices to match those of paper copies.)

Either way, I think I'm making a small contribution to the environment while also making my life a bit easier. What could be better, right?

Speaking of which, I'm clearing my shelves. If you're interested in winning a book from my collection, I'm conducting a random drawing for anyone who comments on any of our Earth Day-related posts this week. (The more you comment, the better your chances of winning. NA bloggers excluded, of course!) Closing date for the contest is Thursday, April 28, 9 pm EST (New York time). The winner will be drawn at random, and we'll announce the lucky winner on Friday, April 29. Good luck!

Back in Mother's Arms

Volcan Sajama by Luca Galuzzi

With a population of less than 10 million people, Bolivia has lived in the shadows of some of South America’s most populated countries—Brazil, Chile, Argentina, Peru, and Paraguay. Recently, this tiny land-locked country took the world by surprise. It’s about to pass the world’s first laws granting all of nature the same rights as humans, a law to be called the Law of Mother Earth.

Over the years, Bolivia has copped flack for its controversial mining methods of tin, silver, and gold. The UNESCO city of culture, Potosí, was once home to the Spanish colonial mint, and supplied most of the silver for Spain during the New World Spanish Empire. The National Mint of Bolivia is now located here, and the ancient mines are still in use. Today, the products mined from the land are Bolivia’s largest export.

Back in 2000, I visited Potosí and saw how humans can damage the land and themselves. But this post isn’t about the negatives, so I’ll move on. 

Pachamama

This new law will redefine the country’s rich mineral deposits as “blessings” and will help to decrease pollution by putting tough controls on the mining industry. One of the more controversial aspects of this law is that nature will have the right “to not be affected by mega-infrastructure and development projects that affect the balance of the ecosystems and the local inhabitant communities”.* It will be interesting to see how this will develop over time.

The Law of Mother Earth will also include rights such as the right to life and to exist; the right to continue vital cycles and processes free from human alteration; the right to pure water and clean air; the right to balance; the right not to be polluted; and the right to not have cellular structure modified or genetically altered.*

A national ombudsman will monitor this new law, but communities will have the legal right to scrutinize and control the pollution of their regions. From what I can understand, the law is not designed to halt mining. I don’t think the country’s economy is capable of handling such a measure. What this law is designed to do is make people, and companies, more responsible for their actions, and to stop and think about the consequences for everyone, including nature. 

Bolivia has seen a steady increase in its people returning to their roots, including the belief system of their ancestors. As a result, the Bolivian legal system has undergone some major changes in the past two years. Bolivia’s strong indigenous population has long-held ties to the earth deity Pachamama, which, literally translated, means Mother Earth. Given Bolivia has an indigenous president, Evo Morales, I’m not surprised the people have reassessed their values and adopted the viewpoint of their ancestors.

Salar de Uyuni by entrop1963 (the spot is a 4WD)

Every visit to Bolivia has left me gob smacked. The bright blue, cloudless skies framed by snowy peaks and the silence of the mountain passes and pristine salt flats calms my soul. The jungles, full of chattering animals and birds, always leave me with a sense that all is as it should be. And thank goodness Bolivia feels the same way.

So when I heard about Bolivia reexamining its role with nature and its plans to take some extreme measures, I puffed out my chest. I am so happy to see this tiny South American country willing to commit to one of the most important roles of all—the guardian of Mother Nature. Listen up, rest of the world.

Congratulations, Bolivia. You have done yourself, the earth and humankind proud.

*Taken from the Guardian News and Media

View From the Top of the World

Mount Damavand, Iran
Photo by Arad Mojtahedi

My husband and I have a personal joke. Every time we plan a trip to Iran, I ask him, “so this time, we’ll go on a camel ride through the desert, right?”

He just rolls his eyes.

There is a story behind this joke. On my first trip to Iran, our plane landed in Tehran just after midnight, and the next morning I was eager to rush out and explore the city in the daylight. I stepped onto my in-laws’ balcony, expecting to see an exciting and unfamiliar urban world rushing through the streets below. But what caught my attention was a gorgeous mountain off to the left, its snow-capped peaks a mottled vision of blue-gray shadows and sparkling white flanks against a perfect blue sky. It was my first glimpse of Mount Damavand, the jewel of the Alborz Range.

I rushed inside and dragged my husband out. “Look!” I pointed at the mountain. “They have snow here!”

My husband, Tehran native that he is, was underwhelmed by my enthusiasm. “So you expected to see nomads riding camels among the sand dunes?”

Well, not exactly. I’d seen pictures of Iranian nomads, and they were mainly herding sheep and weaving carpets. Not a camel or sand dune in sight. But even my knowledge of the real Iran hadn’t prepared me for just how damp Tehran can be in March: rivulets tracking down the rocky cliffs at the north end of the city; water gushing through the joobs (gutters) lining the streets; and heavy fog hanging over the city as Damavand’s snow cap melts.

Since that first trip, I’ve visited many parts of Iran, and the country’s natural beauty and vast biodiversity never cease to amaze me. Mountains, rainforests, rivers and lakes, marshes and farmland—and yes, even a few deserts—this country has a bit of everything.

But as far as I’m concerned, Iran’s mountains are its best feature. The country boasts the tallest peak west of the Afghan/Pakistani Hindu Kush (Damavand, north of Tehran, at 18,600 feet) and diverse climates ranging from arid to semitropical. I’ve stood shivering in gusts of snowy wind on the slopes of Mount Tochal near Tehran and sweated in my own personal sauna beneath the obligatory Islamic scarf and tunic in the sweltering heat of a Caspian summer day.

On every visit to Tehran, I like to drive over the Alborz Range to the Caspian Sea, and my preferred route is along the Chalous Road. It’s a five-hour, hair-raising journey along a two-lane track of hairpin turns and dark tunnels carved through the mountain. Sections of the road pass below wooden avalanche barriers built as protection from falling snow. They look barely sturdy enough to withstand a stiff wind, let alone hold tons of snow, ice, and rock at bay.

But once I get over the heart-stopping fear of plunging over the edge of the road, the sheer beauty of the landscape takes my breath away. Pockets of snow cling to rocky crevices on the left, while the cliffs on the right plunge into nothingness except for the deep ravines the ancient rivers have cut into the stone. I can always tell when we’ve past the crest of the range because the sparse vegetation starts turning greener and lusher with each passing mile. And when you drive through that last long tunnel and pop out into the sunshine on the other side, the Caspian Sea stretches to the horizon, a deep Mediterranean blue meeting a pale sky.

At sea level, the Caspian coastal road clings to the southern shore of this landlocked salt sea, but the best views heading west are on the south side of the road, where tendrils of mist weave through the forested hills. Farther west, the landscape flattens into rice paddies, pastures of grazing cattle and horses, and knobby green fields of tea.

One of the most mystical experiences I can remember was a telecabine (chair lift) ride up the mountain from the town of Namak Abrud. At the top lies a labyrinth of paths beneath dripping trees, where other hikers appear as shadowy figures through dense fog. Kiosks stand at intersections, where you can warm your insides with a bowl of thick noodle soup or toast your chilled feet near the fire and inhale the scent of grilling kebabs.

I may tease my husband with images of nomads riding camels through sandy deserts. But the real images that Iran’s natural wonders conjure up for me are snow-capped mountains, rushing streams, and green fields stretching along a blue sea.