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Rainspotting in Bangalore

Rainspotting is a project run by Greenpeace to investigate how people in India are already being affected by climate change. Grace Boyle has traveled from London to Bangalore to work on the project, and will be documenting their progress here.
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Planes, trains, and auto-vindication

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Monday, 23 November 2009 at 02:26 pm
ImageI've taken three short-haul domestic flights in the last month, working for Greenpeace. It's terrible. I've done a lot of overnight buses, too, attractively hunched in the back row with a scarf wrapped round my head and a bottle of whiskey to smooth out the spine-crushing jolts of pot-holed roads, but on those three occasions deadlines meant overland wheels just weren't an option. You feel a bit of an idiot refusing a plastic bag and opting for the vegetarian meal in the departure lounge of a domestic airport.

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Solar Sign Language

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Saturday, 31 October 2009 at 06:25 pm
ImageIt’s a surprising finding, this roomful of African women soldering circuits.

In dry, hot Tilonia, where sunlight slanting through risen Rajasthani dust turns the air a soft pink, the few outsiders you see are European or from elsewhere in India. Nothing much grows here because of the drought-like climate - this year the monsoon season brought rain only twice - so herds of goat, buffalo, sheep and cattle crowd the roads, driven on foot every morning to find pasture. Women walk tall as columns across the flat plains, two pots of water balanced on their heads. They wear their brightly-coloured saris over their faces to shield from the heat, veils of hot pink, crimson red or egg-yolk yellow on the dusty landscape.

“We had no doubts about coming here,” says Belle, a 45 year old grandmother from Kisumu Village, Kenya, her head wrapped in a printed cotton cloth. “We were very courageous. We thought, ‘Yes! We can do it. We are African women!’ We wanted to make it to India and we did.”

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From the roof of the Houses of Parliament

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Monday, 12 October 2009 at 08:32 pm
ImageYesterday afternoon, a group of fifty-five Greenpeace UK activists scaled the walls of the Houses of Parliament in Westminster to protest that the Government wasn't doing enough towards reaching an ambitious and fair deal at the Copenhagen climate talks.  Twenty-nine year old activist Brikesh Singh (foreground, left) of Greenpeace India traveled from Bangalore to London to take part in the protest, and is one of the seven activists remaining on the highest section of roof nearly 24 hours later. From his vantage point, he relates how the group managed to evade security, the din of the incessant chiming of Big Ben, and why he felt the action was worth the risk of deportation.

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ImageRight now, fifty-five Greenpeace activists are standing on top of the houses of Parliament in Westminster. Amongst them is the head of public engagement from the Greenpeace India office, who travelled to the UK to take part in the action and highlight the need for greater international cooperation in the lead up to Copenhagen. 

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Great Britain's coal legacy

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Friday, 2 October 2009 at 02:05 pm
ImageExcerpts from an old book I found while poking around a book fair in Bangalore. The casing was that lovely old hardback with embossed gold writing on the spine, and the sentiments within were equally archaic. 

'COAL', by F. H. Wilson, was published in 1921 in London.

Introduction:

"Great Britain undoubtedly owes her wonderful position among the great nations of her world to her vast store of that natural source of energy - coal. Without a cheap and plentiful supply of the mineral the industries of this country could never have attained their present prosperous condition and importance, and as a substitute equal in every respect to coal has not yet been discovered it can truthfully be said that the maintenance of the commercial supremacy of Great Britain depends on her coal mines."

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The Great Indian Darkness

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Tuesday, 29 September 2009 at 06:21 pm

I visited some villages in rural Karnataka this week where people are living without electricity. After nightfall we drove to Mahime Village in Uttara Kannada, a coastal district of Karnataka State and left the car at the side of the road. On foot we picked our way along a dirt path through the forest, splashed through a creek and uphill until we reached a house. The muted blue of the mud walls glimmered in the yellow light of the small kerosene lamps as we picked leeches off our feet and Sarojini Rama Naik, the wife of the house, burnt them with embers from the fire.

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The monsoon season is now drawing to a close, and the newspapers are rife with articles on how India will wrestle with the drought that was this year declared in 25% of her districts. Yet all summer the meteorological offices were defiant of any suggestion that the monsoon is becoming increasingly erratic, maintaining that the season has always displayed such unpredictable behaviour and that everything was hunky dory.

I met with the Director of the Indian Meteorological Department (IMD) in Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala, in the middle of the season 
and he also echoed this stance. An imposing man who seemed slightly nervous, M.D. Ramachandran’s ready agreement to meet me came as a pleasant surprise, particularly as I showed up unannounced. My friend, an established Indian journalist who took me there, said that he was rarely granted such an impromptu audience.

“Every year, people come to us saying ‘This summer it is very hot! There is no rain!’ There will also be others who say ‘This year is the heaviest rainfall I have ever seen!” he said, leaning back in his chair and chuckling. “But weather is variation only. Research may be showing that there will be changes from this global warming, but our day-to-day data is not showing any change.”
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The climate politics of diet

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Friday, 28 August 2009 at 04:02 pm
ImageOrganic, locally-sourced, Fairtrade (but air-freighted?), dairy-free, free range, Sainsbury’s Basics. The average supermarket trip invites more agonising and dithering indecision in unforgiving strip lights than you find in the clutches of penniless students outside medical testing centres.  
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Water wars

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Thursday, 20 August 2009 at 07:46 pm
ImageI’ve moved into a new place, with a solar water heater and no washing machine. My, was I feeling at one with nature this morning, as I showered in water warmed by sunshine – clean body and conscience in one! - and scrubbed my organic cotton clothes on the washstone on the roof. To be thoroughly honest the water is a little bit burny at times, and all that wringing doesn’t half get your arms, but it was only half an hour until the scalding red of my flesh settled to a healthy glow, and I expect my biceps are mere days away.

Scrub, scrub, twist, wring, plunge, swill, gush! Down the drain. Open the tap, fill the bucket again. Swill the clothes, knead them with your hands, whoosh! Soap suds swirl into the gutter. And again. And again, and again... you get the picture. Now, I have no doubt that my attempts at handwashing are grossly inept and inefficient, but it wasn’t long before I began to feel distinctly uncomfortable with the amount of water I was pushing out, each bucketful merrily laced with pollutants. I thought back to my eco-shower: I’d used at least four different chemical products, and even if the shampoo had ‘extract of wild peach’, it also had methyl paraben and sodium dodecyl suphate. Standing on the roof, the smell of wet concrete in the sunshine brought back memories of water fights we would have in the summer when I was a child. Ouch.
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ImageIt's easy to imagine how erratic rainfall patterns and rising temperatures can impact the lives of farming and fishing communities, and we've collected seemingly endless stories attesting to it. But the societies directly affected by the vagaries of the monsoon extend far further than that. Winding inland from the coast to the banks of the River Nila in Kerala, a traditional pottery community is also being threatened.

The Kumbhara community migrated from Andhra Pradesh over two hundred years ago, searching for an ideal location to practice their age-old skill: pottery. They found it on the banks of the River Nila in Palakkad, Kerala and settled there, seamlessly weaving their existence into that of the tributaries. Every year the monsoon rains would swell the river, flushing nutrients into the adjacent paddy fields and depositing mud and clay onto its banks. The potters would gather this clay and use it to make their wares – rich terra cotta utensils they then traded with the other river communities.

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ImageThis week the India announced its National Solar Mission, a detailed plan of the energy the country intends to generate from solar technology between 2010 and 2040. The plan is undeniably ambitious, proposing that India will produce:

- 1 GW of energy from solar by 2012,
- 6-7 GW by 2017,
- 20 GW by 2020,
- 100 GW by 2030 (or 10-12 % of total power generation capacity)

20GW by 2020 is a whopping figure, especially when you consider that it’s only eleven years away, and an almost negligible 3MW (0.003GW) of the energy on the national grid currently comes form solar sources.
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Farmers fight power giants over coal-fired plants

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Friday, 31 July 2009 at 11:58 am
Image"Dream no small dreams, for they have not the power to move the hearts of men"                                                                                                       Geothe


There is a fight going on in the coastal region of Raigad, in the state of Maharashtra. Only a half hour drive from Mumbai, Raigad's fertile lands, ragged mountains and crumbling fort couldn't be more different from the 24-hour burn of the maximum city. But there's a change being proposed - and opposed - to the land.

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ImageSitting cross-legged on the harbour, one hand steadying the prow of his boat, Sahijid’s pink shirt is unbuttoned at the neck, a woven reed hat with a painted blue brim keeping the sun from his eyes. His skin is dark and taut, shiny from years of working at sea.

49 years old, Sahijid has been fishing from this port since he was nine. His cousins work here too. Every morning, he rises at 3am, completes his toilet and takes his daily tea at a nearby tea stand. At 5am, he and the other fishermen join together and start out to sea in their traditional wooden boats. If the day’s catch is good, they won’t return until 3 or 4pm. If the catch is poor, as it often is these days, they’re back in the harbour by 9am with little to do but prepare their boats and hope tomorrow will bring more a bigger yield.

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ImageMutai came to Kerala, to this farm, on January 21st, 1951. He was eleven years old then, and has lived here ever since. He’s dark-skinned, white-haired and wearing a bright blue check lunghi [a wrap-around piece of material worn as a skirt], as all the farmers here wear. A granddad vest, a shirt and an excellent pair of 1980’s NHS-style bifocals: on paper he’s not too dissimilar from people I used to know in Shoreditch.

In 1966 he married a girl called Mariakkutty and these few acres of land have been their livelihood through forty-three years of marriage and five children. When the first agricultural settlers came here in the fifties, they razed the land of forest and planted lemongrass oil seeds that they had bought with them. The initially small-scale production was fruitful in the rich biodiversity of Wayanad, and the farms grew. Rather than planting a variety of crops for food, the farmers chased the money they could make from exporting cash crops such as pepper, coffee and plantain. Now the combination of years of monocrops, coupled with the rising temperatures and reduced rainfall caused by climate change has made the unthinkable a reality: the fertile lands of Wayanad are going dry. 
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I sneaked out of the office to a massive party on the beach yesterday, filled with extremely attractive, half-naked Bollywood stars cavorting in a riot of Bacchanalian abandon.

That's a lie. I went to a lecture on Nuclear Energy and the Environment. Plus ça change, etc.

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Climate change in Kerala. God's Own Country, they call it

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Wednesday, 22 July 2009 at 12:31 am

ImageNow, some members of the Rainspotting team have been curving an arc over the Northern Indian states and viewing some pretty harrowing sights: victims of Cyclone Alia crowded into refugee camps swarming with malarious mosquitoes in the east; lake beds so dry the earth has cracked open in the drought-hit west. Stories such as these I’ll post as they come in. I, on the other hand, have spent the last couple of weeks cruising round Kerala on the back of a motorbike and boy, is that state good-looking. God’s Own Country, they call it.


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Video footage of the Periyar River

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Friday, 17 July 2009 at 07:26 pm
Now Back to Bangalore Broadband, I can upload some footage of the polluted Periyar River. From the opposite bank, Riverkeeper V. J. Jose points out the back of a few of the 247 factories that line the banks of this part of the Periyar, dumping 170m litres of waste effluent into its waters every day.

The yellow-stained earth that can be seen on the track down to the water is a result of factory trucks dumping large loads of waste gypsum, either directly into the river or next to it, from where the chemicals wash down into the river with the next rain.

The following is by Akhila Vijayaraghavan, a friend of mine who works as a campaigner on sustainable agriculture at Greenpeace. She returned to India in March of this year having spent six years studying in Glasgow, and still retains much of the excellent accent.  With this perspective, I asked her to write something on her impressions of the Indian attitude to environmentalism. 

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ImageJose is the Riverkeeper, the first in Asia. His guard is the Periyar River.

Running a jagged line across India, the river begins in the eastern state of Tamil Nadu and ends in the western port town of Cochin, where it meets the Arabian Sea. In its final few km, the path splits and curves around a series of tiny islands that make up Cochin. One of these islands is Eloor, the mere eleven square kilometres of which are home to paddy fields, traditional fishing communities, forty-two thousand people, and two hundred and forty-seven industrial factories along the river banks. Of these, one hundred and six produce chemicals. And they all pour their waste into the Periyar river - a mammoth one hundred and seventy million litres of toxic effluent per day.

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Death by fax?

Posted by Grace Boyle
  • Thursday, 2 July 2009 at 09:30 pm
ImageIndia is a passionate country, but two thousand men reduced to requesting death in a fax to the president cannot be notched down to mere dramatics. Impoverished by their thirsty, barren lands, this is the path of action that has been chosen by desperate farmers - and not for the first time.

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