An American in Lima » global warming

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Barbara — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 00:01:32 +0000

Estazolam For Sale, [caption id="attachment_1190" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="Bald & ugly: not a patch of ice is left on Nevado Quilca, in Puno, Peru "][/caption]

Awful news. Quilca Glacier (5, where can i buy Estazolam online, Online buy Estazolam without a prescription, 250 meters above sea level) in Puno has disappeared completely, reports Peru's National Institute for Natural Resources (IRENA), rx free Estazolam. Order Estazolam no prescription, The disappearance of Quilca is part of an ongoing recession of tropical glaciers throughout the Andes, where climate change (mainly rising air temperatures) is making it impossible for the ice to regenerate, where can i order Estazolam without prescription. Buy Estazolam no prescription, Experts such as Marco Zapata, of IRENA, Estazolam pharmacy, Order Estazolam from mexican pharmacy, predict that no glaciers will be left in Peru by 2025.

Please do the math, buy Estazolam from canada. That's 16 years away, Estazolam For Sale. Estazolam samples, Why should people care that tropical glaciers are melting in this Andean country. The reasons are both local and global, Estazolam for sale. Buy Estazolam without a prescription, First, Peru derives 80% of its water for drinking, buy cheap Estazolam, Buy Estazolam online no prescription, agriculture and hydropower from glacier melt-off. A major drought is looming, order Estazolam, Buy Estazolam without prescription, and no large-scale strategy to find and use other water sources has been implemented. Estazolam For Sale, Uh oh.

"No water, purchase Estazolam online, Online buying Estazolam, no life," as the campesinos in Ausangate told me in September '08, purchase Estazolam online no prescription. Australia, uk, us, usa, canada, mexico, india, craiglist, ebay, Secondly, the loss of glacier meltoff will have a devastating effect on the Amazon region, buy cheap Estazolam no rx, Order Estazolam online c.o.d, which is fed by streams that originate in the Andes. Two years ago, where can i buy cheapest Estazolam online, Buy no prescription Estazolam online, NASA pinpointed the origin of the Amazon River itself at snow-capped Mount Mismi, in southern Peru, Estazolam over the counter, Buy generic Estazolam, and was predicting major impacts by 2050:

Tracing the origin of the Amazon river back to a glacier highlights the vulnerability of the river system to climate change. Glaciers and snowmelt in the Andes are the source for as much as 50 percent of the water in the upper Amazon, Estazolam samples, Purchase Estazolam online, yet global warming puts these at risk: the Peruvian government estimates that the country's glaciers have shrunk by more than 20% in the past 30 years... Further downstream, where can i order Estazolam without prescription, Buy cheap Estazolam no rx, models show that climate change, combined with deforestation, will leave the Amazon rainforest considerably drier by 2050, further impacting water availability in the river basin.

Given that Amazon rainforest produces 20% of the earth's oxygen, the depletion of its meltwater sources is catastrophic news for everyone on the planet.

Please share this information with anyone you know who (1) drinks water; (2) breathes oxygen; and (3) gives a damn about the people who will be alive in 2025 or 2050.

Link: El Comercio news item on disappearance of Quilca Glacier (in Spanish).

Dancing for a Dying Glacier

Barbara — Sun, 25 May 2008 00:41:09 +0000

Just back from the annual pilgrimage of Qoyllur Rit'i, which takes place just below a 17,000-foot-high glacier (actually, three glacial tongues) in the southern Andes, about 80 miles south of Cusco. Since pre-Inca times, Qolqepunku Glacier has been revered as a sacred site associated with nearby Mount Ausangate, the tallest mountain in the region, considered by Andean people to be the area's most powerful deity or "apu." For hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years, local people have made the arduous journey to this remote, high-altitude glacier to pay homage with music, dance and offerings. In return, the apu grants health and fertility to the devotees, as well as to their families, their animals and their crops. Catholic rituals were added to the mix in the 1700s, but the pilgrimage remains a decidedly Andean event, and, like their preColumbian ancestors, devotees believe that the ice from Qolqepunku has divine healing powers. All of which is fascinating and deserving of a detailed anthropological study (there have been many), except a recent crisis has propelled this timeless pilgrimage into the environmental news limelight: Qolqepunku, like other glaciers around the world, is receding at an incredibly fast rate due to global warming, and soon there will be nothing left. The Wall Street Journal broke the news in 2005 about the sacred glacier's impending demise with a front-page story by Antonio Regalado. Since then, other writers, photographers and videographers have visited Qoyllur Rit'i to witness and record the changes. In 2006, after visiting the site, glaciologist Lonnie Thompson told me that Qolqepunku has passed its "threshold," the point beyond which a glacier can never replenish itself. This news is devastating in so many ways, the most pressing being that tropical glaciers such as Qolqepunku supply Peru with 80 percent of its total water supply. Once the country's glaciers are gone, no water. No water, no life. And the process is happening now, in our lifetime. El Fotografo and I made our first journey to Qoyllur Rit'i in June 2006, hoping to photograph one of its most ancient and symbolic rituals: a harrowing race down the mountain by young men known as "ukukus" carrying huge blocks of ice on their backs. Sadly, we found out, that tradition had been discontinued in 2003 out of respect for the glacier's precarious state. There was no mountain race in 2006 for EF to photograph, but we did observe about a hundred pilgrims (non-ukukus) pilfering bits of ice from the still-massive glacier, whose run-off gushed down the mountain in myriad streams. EF took a number of shots of people stealing ice, as well as of pilgrims being whipped by zealous guardians of the ice known as the Brotherhood of Qoyllur Rit'i. However, the Brotherhood did permit people to play on the glacier, and plenty of people were doing that: lighting votive candles in the snow, throwing snowballs, climbing up the ice to one of the snowy peaks. I wasn't daring enough to risk a climb up the glacier (actually, I could barely breath in the thin air); instead, I stood at its base and peered inside a deep crack in the ice, marveling at it eerie green-blue light. The glacier was big and covered in grit and hugely beautiful. I began to understand why many native Andean people love their mountains in a deeply personal way. Last Sunday afternoon, May 18, EF and I climbed to the place where two years ago the glacier's edge had been and found nothing but dirt and moraine. All the ice was gone – the huge, frozen, whale-like wall that I had once leaned against simply was not there. It was the strangest feeling, to stand where an enormous glacier had been and now wasn't. The effect was sudden, sharp, bewildering to the body – like walking into a familiar room expecting to see someone you love, only to remember: he or she is dead. So this is what the effects of rapid climate change feel like up close, I thought, staring dumbly at the raw brown dirt. The world immediately around you stops making sense. The glacier wasn't all gone, of course. It had literally fled up the mountain, lying like a panting white tongue between two black peaks. EF and I eyeballed the distance and argued over how far the glacier had receded: I said 40 feet; EF put it at 60 to 80. We finally agreed that, whatever the exact number of feet, it would take another 45 minutes, at least, to climb up to the new terminus, and EF said he wasn't up for the hike, given that he didn't have crampons to climb the ice safely once we arrived there. I agreed it wasn't worth the risk. From where we stood, we could see only a few lone figures struggling up the glacier, in contrast with the hundred or so people we had seen on there in 2006. Not even the unsmiling members of the Brotherhood were lurking to whip people for stealing ice: evidently the additional trek up the mountain was too much for most pilgrims. A thin layer of fresh snow dusted the mountaintops, but that couldn't disguise that the so-called eternal snows of Qoyllur Rit'i were vanishing. EF shot some more pictures, and then we turned to make our way down through the rocks and dirt. I was thinking, as I trod along in my muddy hiking boots: This place looks like a construction site. Forty minutes later, we crossed over a makeshift bridge by the Qoyllur Rit'i sanctuary and trudged toward our campsite, trying to avoid the clods of horse and burro excrement lining the path. It was nighttime now. The valley was a sea of tents and pilgrims huddled under blue plastic tarps. There was lots of garbage scattered about and some not-very-pleasant smells emanating from open-air cooking pots, but the ugliness was countered by something more potent: The exuberant faith of the pilgrims. All around us, people were dancing. Dancing in pairs, dancing in lines. Dancing in fancy, spangled costumes and fearsome masks. The dancing would go on all night and then all the next day, when EF and I would leave. And even after we had climbed down the mountain, exhausted, and drove back to Cusco, they would still be dancing, all that Monday night into Tuesday: tens of thousands of them. Dancing for the Lord of Qoyllur Rit'i. Dancing for a dying glacier.

An American in Lima Goes to Qoyllur Rit’i

Barbara — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 00:01:32 +0000

Estazolam For Sale, [caption id="attachment_1190" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="Bald & ugly: not a patch of ice is left on Nevado Quilca, in Puno, Peru "][/caption]

Tracing the origin of the Amazon river back to a glacier highlights the vulnerability of the river system to climate change. Glaciers and snowmelt in the Andes are the source for as much as 50 percent of the water in the upper Amazon, Estazolam samples, Purchase Estazolam online, yet global warming puts these at risk: the Peruvian government estimates that the country's glaciers have shrunk by more than 20% in the past 30 years... Further downstream, where can i order Estazolam without prescription, Buy cheap Estazolam no rx, models show that climate change, combined with deforestation, will leave the Amazon rainforest considerably drier by 2050, further impacting water availability in the river basin.

Given that Amazon rainforest produces 20% of the earth's oxygen, the depletion of its meltwater sources is catastrophic news for everyone on the planet.

Please share this information with anyone you know who (1) drinks water; (2) breathes oxygen; and (3) gives a damn about the people who will be alive in 2025 or 2050.

Link: El Comercio news item on disappearance of Quilca Glacier (in Spanish).

Dancing for a Dying Glacier

Barbara — Sun, 25 May 2008 00:41:09 +0000

An American in Lima Goes to Qoyllur Rit’i

Barbara — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 00:01:32 +0000

Estazolam For Sale, [caption id="attachment_1190" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="Bald & ugly: not a patch of ice is left on Nevado Quilca, in Puno, Peru "][/caption]

Tracing the origin of the Amazon river back to a glacier highlights the vulnerability of the river system to climate change. Glaciers and snowmelt in the Andes are the source for as much as 50 percent of the water in the upper Amazon, Estazolam samples, Purchase Estazolam online, yet global warming puts these at risk: the Peruvian government estimates that the country's glaciers have shrunk by more than 20% in the past 30 years... Further downstream, where can i order Estazolam without prescription, Buy cheap Estazolam no rx, models show that climate change, combined with deforestation, will leave the Amazon rainforest considerably drier by 2050, further impacting water availability in the river basin.

Given that Amazon rainforest produces 20% of the earth's oxygen, the depletion of its meltwater sources is catastrophic news for everyone on the planet.

Please share this information with anyone you know who (1) drinks water; (2) breathes oxygen; and (3) gives a damn about the people who will be alive in 2025 or 2050.

Link: El Comercio news item on disappearance of Quilca Glacier (in Spanish).

An American in Lima » global warming

Barbara — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 00:01:32 +0000

Estazolam For Sale, [caption id="attachment_1190" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="Bald & ugly: not a patch of ice is left on Nevado Quilca, in Puno, Peru "][/caption]

Tracing the origin of the Amazon river back to a glacier highlights the vulnerability of the river system to climate change. Glaciers and snowmelt in the Andes are the source for as much as 50 percent of the water in the upper Amazon, Estazolam samples, Purchase Estazolam online, yet global warming puts these at risk: the Peruvian government estimates that the country's glaciers have shrunk by more than 20% in the past 30 years... Further downstream, where can i order Estazolam without prescription, Buy cheap Estazolam no rx, models show that climate change, combined with deforestation, will leave the Amazon rainforest considerably drier by 2050, further impacting water availability in the river basin.

Given that Amazon rainforest produces 20% of the earth's oxygen, the depletion of its meltwater sources is catastrophic news for everyone on the planet.

Please share this information with anyone you know who (1) drinks water; (2) breathes oxygen; and (3) gives a damn about the people who will be alive in 2025 or 2050.

Link: El Comercio news item on disappearance of Quilca Glacier (in Spanish).

Dancing for a Dying Glacier

Barbara — Sun, 25 May 2008 00:41:09 +0000

An American in Lima Goes to Qoyllur Rit’i

Barbara — Sun, 25 May 2008 00:41:09 +0000

An American in Lima » global warming

Barbara — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 00:01:32 +0000

Estazolam For Sale, [caption id="attachment_1190" align="aligncenter" width="400" caption="Bald & ugly: not a patch of ice is left on Nevado Quilca, in Puno, Peru "][/caption]

Tracing the origin of the Amazon river back to a glacier highlights the vulnerability of the river system to climate change. Glaciers and snowmelt in the Andes are the source for as much as 50 percent of the water in the upper Amazon, Estazolam samples, Purchase Estazolam online, yet global warming puts these at risk: the Peruvian government estimates that the country's glaciers have shrunk by more than 20% in the past 30 years... Further downstream, where can i order Estazolam without prescription, Buy cheap Estazolam no rx, models show that climate change, combined with deforestation, will leave the Amazon rainforest considerably drier by 2050, further impacting water availability in the river basin.

Given that Amazon rainforest produces 20% of the earth's oxygen, the depletion of its meltwater sources is catastrophic news for everyone on the planet.

Please share this information with anyone you know who (1) drinks water; (2) breathes oxygen; and (3) gives a damn about the people who will be alive in 2025 or 2050.

Link: El Comercio news item on disappearance of Quilca Glacier (in Spanish).

Dancing for a Dying Glacier

Barbara — Sun, 25 May 2008 00:41:09 +0000

An American in Lima Goes to Qoyllur Rit’i

Barbara — Wed, 14 May 2008 16:44:04 +0000

We're in a frenzy here in our house packing to go on an expedition to a glacier near Mount Ausangate, in the southern Andes. Qolquepunku Glacier is the site of the ancient pilgrimage of Qoyllur Rit'i, whose name in Quechua translates "Shining Snow Star." More than 100,000 pilgrims come from all over Peru and Bolivia to pay tribute to "El Senor de Qoyllur Rit'i," to climb the sacred glacier and to dance for days and nights at 17,000 feet above sea level. Yikes! The pilgrimage is ostensibly Catholic but has its roots in precolombian rituals that were practiced long before the Incas created their vast empire. The three dancers pictured above (photo courtesy El Fotografo) represent archetypical figures from colonial days and after. Note that the dancer in the middle is a guy dressed like a woman and holding a baby doll and a whip; he plays a sort of trickster figure, who jokes with the crowd and also whips pilgrims who misbehave (i.e., drink during the pilgrimage). Tragically, the Qolqepunku Glacier is rapidly disappearing due to global warming, and it appears that when the ice disappears, so will the Qoyllur Rit'i pilgrimage. So awful. A tradition that survived the Spanish Conquest is being eradicated by carbon emissions. What do the pilgrims think of all this? El Fotografo and I will be at the glacier from May 16 to May 20 to find out. Camping out with our wonderful guide Pablo from Andean Origins, taking photos, conducting interviews. All this continues work we began two years ago when we visited the June 2006 QR and spent a raw, exhilarating three nights camping out with thousands of other pilgrims. I'll post more when we return. In the meantime, check out El Fotografo's photos from our 2006 trip to Qoyllur Rit'i, on his photo.net site. Also check out what Gigi of Inca Kids has to say about the benefits of attending festivals in Peru, such as this year's Qoyllur Rit'i. The tradition of photographing rituals at Qoyllur Rit'i goes back to the 1930s, when Peruvian photographer Martin Chambi traveled to the pilgrimage and took a series of black and white images. The Chambi photo above indicates how much things have changed at the glacier. Seventy years ago, the mountaintop was blanketed with snow and ice. Today, the ice cap has receded, leaving a mountain of dirt and rubble. Just how many more years the vanishing glacier has left is anyone's guess.