Notes from the Field

(University of Minnesota public health students are writing about their experiences abroad this summer. This is the first installment.)

By Marie Quasius
Environmental Health Sciences
Writing from Chile

(June 6, 2006) The bus to Valdivia moves at the perfect speed, though that is not immediately obvious when comparing the six hour bus ride to the prospect of a one hour flight. It’s fast enough that an antsy, time-conscious (North) American can’t become agitated that time is flying past and little is getting done in the grand scheme of the universe. I’ve always found that the most difficult transition to other countries is the shift to a different time which somehow moves at a different speed and amazingly arrives at the ‘destination’ time exactly when it should. Similarly, people also arrive at their geographic destinations exactly when they should… which is probably related more to an adjustment of attitude than of time or space, but still presents a conundrum to the American brain. Perhaps the solution lies in U.S. clocks adopting another means of measuring time: the ‘anxiety’ hand, to measure mounting stress levels that correspond to the pace of life.

The bus moves slowly enough that a vaguely literate almost-Spanish speaker can read the graffiti on the walls and memorize the words, both well-known and unfamiliar. While passing through a town called Temuco, whose streets were lined by endless rows of stubby, aggressively-trimmed trees (sprouting some puny branches from the top of the stump), I started noticing graffiti that included the words presos políticos (political prisoners) and Mapuche (an indigenous group that is quite populous in southern Chile) and huelga de hambre (hunger strike). As my project for the ‘summer’ (here, it’s actually winter) involves Mapuche water rights and environmental health, I immediately took notice. During my preliminary research in the United States, I read some Amnesty International reports on human rights abuses of the Mapuche in Chile, and from what I remember, many of the protests for which Mapuche individuals were arrested were in regard to environmental degradation. However, it’s difficult to make connections between what is written by a person or published by an organization and the reality of a situation, which by necessity must include various perspectives (since both individuals and organizations have their own biases and inclinations). What little I have found that has been written on the Mapuche, the government, and the environment in Chile (or any combination thereof) has been written in Spanish; unfortunately, I have yet to translate it all. Seeing the graffiti definitely spurred my interest in the issues, and provided additional motivation to learn more (as if I need any more! I just flew to South American in winter to pursue this interest).

Speaking from my vast experience—four days—in Region X (the Chilean government is divided up into twelve administrative regions), I can honestly understand why the Mapuche and environmental groups would be incensed by irresponsible development (desarrollo) in Valdivia. Natural wetlands and forests dominate the Valdivian landscape; I’ve probably heard a wider variety of bird calls in the past few days than in previous years combined. Nowhere that I’ve lived or visited in the United States or Asia has there been a sufficiently large environment as to sustain falcons, and water fowl, and numerous others about which I hope to learn more (e.g. names and habitats). This is in contrast to Concepción (where we spent our first few days in Chile), where tree plantations dominated the (still very beautiful) landscape. Gazing out over the horizon during a short bus trip to Chillán reminded me of the view of a subdivision community in my hometown in Connecticut; from a particular intersection at the top of a hill, it’s possible to absorb the horrifying homogeneity of the community. Every house is a neutral shade of beige or cream, a tasteful variation on the developer’s master plan, suitably distant from neighbors so that the inhabitants don’t feel crowded but not so far as to cut into profits. Similarly, in the tree plantation, the tall healthy pines are immaculate both as individuals and in the collective. However, from my point of view, there is madness lurking in the mere simplicity of how perfectly straight were the rows in which they were planted. Professor Singer remarked with some displeasure (and perhaps some disgust) that neither the rows of pines nor the occasional stands of eucalyptus trees are native to Chile. In contrast, the water and trees in Valdivia seem to merge together in the horizon, and houses and businesses seem more like a momentary accident than any permanent settlement by humankind. The cold (and constant) rains seem much more tolerable because they bring in gorgeous mists and fogs; indeed, the nickname of Valdivia is pura lluvia (pure rain, or nothing but rain). Occasionally kayakers or sea lions emerge from the fog over the distant water, adding to the magical illusions of this place. I feel very lucky to be in this beautiful place, right now, doing what I’m doing.

Today at noon was a rally against a recently built pulp mill that has been polluting the local estuary. The mascot of the movement, so to speak, is the black necked swans (las cisnes) which, from my understanding, have been adversely affected by the pollution emitted by the facility. The next two weeks in Valdivia will consist of a series of educational experiences wherein Lauren, Heather, and I visit various facilities that have some bearing on environmental health or infectious disease (major areas of study for us and for Professor Singer). Included in the list is a trip to the pulp mill and associated wastewater treatment plant which is supposed to be preventing the release of hazardous emissions to the local waterways. (However, environmental regulation in Chile has been described to me by numerous parties as being weak, or even nonexistent.) On Tuesday I meet with officials from the Ministry of Health to learn more about the details of my project, and hopefully hash out what their expectations are of my language and research skills and for the final written product. As one person in particular (who I’ve already met) speaks Spanish with a rather difficult accent and I’ll be alone at the meeting, I am definitely apprehensive of comprehension gaps! At the same time, I’m really stimulated and excited because this is the first time that I’ll be working abroad in a capacity that really interests me, and where I think the experience will contribute to my future career. (At the same time, it feels strange to write the word ‘career,’ as if with that single word I have become more of an adult.)