Climate Change and Service Learning in the Mekong Delta, Vietnam
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Prior to this trip, we had a class on what international volunteering meant. I understood that international volunteering and service learning is usually meant to make the person doing it feel good about themselves, to make them feel like they fulfilled some bigger purpose. Most of the time, the volunteer makes the host suffer an inconvenience by taking time away from their day to help and teach said volunteer. Somewhere along the way, the volunteer thinks that they’re the one doing so much and making such a great big difference. Continue even further down the way and suddenly the volunteer sees that the country they are in, usually a developing nation, does not live up to the standards they are accustomed to and tries to “fix” it. I didn’t want to fall into this trap during this trip. Yet, one of the most prevalent thoughts I had while talking to the farmers, working with farmers, building a biogas digester was that we’re not doing enough.
One of the most frustrating things I’ve had to face here is the language barrier. It is so difficult to understand the emotions and the thoughts the farmers have because of the pressing language barrier. While there is a translator, I am sure that so much of it is lost in the translation. The people were nothing but hospitable, which I think added another layer of barrier. I am sure that in efforts to remain the wonderful hosts that they are, offering up addicting coffee candy and irresistibly cute puppies, their answers were shielded and phrased in certain ways. During our trip to Ba Tri, workers from the local government accompanied us on the visits to the organic farms, where we could speak to the farmers. I wonder if their presence also prompted certain responses from them. There was something problematic about the way we moved from house to house; it felt like we were looking and then thinking of all the ways that their farms could be improved, which I felt was too reminiscent of the international volunteer trap. When we were building a biogas digester, we were told that about 90% of the digging was done for us, and all I could feel was embarrassment. Why was 90% of the digging done for us? “It would have been really tiring otherwise,” we were told. In Ben Tre, we worked with a farmer. We picked some greens, planted morning glory seeds, made the beds for crops, and more. Towards the end of the day, we talked about our favorite parts of the day, and I said watering the seeds. Then our professor turned to us and said, “These farmers don’t get to choose their favorite part, they have to do it all.” And I thought about this when they told us that 90% of the digging was done for our digester because I felt that if we were going to do something, if we were going to take a stab at making a difference, and I use the word difference very loosely, then we shouldn’t get to skip out on the hard parts, or the uncomfortable, messy and dirty parts, we should do it all because right now we’re not doing enough. - Stevanica
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The program started with four days in Saigon. On the third day, we traveled to the Can Gio Biosphere Reserve. In my previous travels, I would find myself staring at a great big monument and think about how small I was compared to it. When my friends and I ran up the much too small for my slightly above average sized feet steps, I had no idea what view I would be met with. But what I saw up there was completely different from my wildest imaginations.
I often joke that because I’ve lived in New York City my whole life, I’ve never seen trees or encountered nature; the only interaction I’ve had with it is the grass in Central Park. But when I got to the very top of that tower, I was blown away by the vast size of the nature surrounding me. In the distance, you could see the small skyline of Ho Chi Minh City, but that was the only thing present in the horizon. Everything else at eye level was trees and water, and I have never felt so small in my entire life. I think about a quote written by John Muir that goes, “The world is so big and I want to take a good look at it before it gets dark,” quite often. There is so much out there that I haven’t seen—so much beauty, so much life, so much of everything, and it breaks my heart to think that I, and many of us, might not get to see even a little piece of it because we are actively destroying the planet. We are ripping pieces of it for selfish reasons. Up at the tower, looking at the sun dip behind the mangroves, I felt both awe and anger. Awe for beginning to comprehend just how big and beautiful the world is. Awe for truly feeling how powerful nature is; the trees, the water, it was all so encompassing. But also anger for the disrespect we have shown the world and its resources. Anger for the mindless exploitation of all it has to offer. It was in this moment, a moment when I felt like nothing more than a speck of dust on a glass surface, that I felt the importance and weight of the fight against climate change. We should pity those who don’t care or the ones who can’t be bothered because they’re the ones who have yet to see and understand how amazing the world is. In the near distance, the changing landscape of Ho Chi Minh City, or Saigon as the locals prefer, illustrated how rapidly the nation was developing. Saigon is truly one of the most unique cities I have ever been in. Traffic in Saigon is truly a sight to behold. I come from NYC, where I thought I was a traffic-law-bender expert, yet being in Saigon has made me feel like a child who has just learned how to walk, grasping for the nonexistent traffic rules for support. Every single time I cross the street, I always think a car is going to run over my toes or a motorbike’s engine will burn my legs. Nonetheless, crossing the street is one of the most thrilling experiences that I get to experience here in Vietnam. These past four days, we have been traveling with our Vietnamese buddies from Ton Duc Thang University, and I think that they are some of the most interesting and welcoming people I have had the fortune of meeting. There’s something about the people here; they are so willing to share their backgrounds. Every conversation I have is a beautiful exchange of knowledge and culture. - Stevanica When I was a young girl, I listened to traditional music from southern Vietnam. This music was often played during family gatherings especially during the holidays. Because of this, the music always sparked pleasant memories of long dinner conversations and spending time with my cousins.
During my childhood, my parents worked long hours. There were many times when I did not see them until they tucked me into bed. Because of this, I missed my parents wishing that I could be like the other kids in my school who saw their parents after school every day. Sometimes I would hear traditional music playing in my street on my way home from school. This would only happen when my mother came home early from work. As a child, this was one of the most exciting moments for me. I am 22 years old now, and I still have pleasant memories of traditional Vietnamese music. During my visit to Bến Tre and Cần Thơ I listened to the people of the Mekong Delta sing this genre of music in person and live. The songs were often about love and the nature and the people of the Mekong Delta. It is apparent how much these people take pride in their culture and their home. It also shows how much they appreciate the land they live on. The future of this form of Vietnamese music is uncertain. This music is often practiced among Vietnamese farmers. Since the climate is uncertain, farming can be a risky investment. Vietnamese youth are beginning to move out of the countryside to the big city to find a more stable income. Therefore, new musicians are not as common as it was in the past. To some, climate change seems distant from the subject of music. Soon, sea levels will rise and put the Mekong Delta at risk; it may be under water one day. Unfortunately, the people of the Mekong Delta may need to move or adapt to avoid the sea level rise. The beautiful music of the Mekong Delta may no longer be relevant if nature is not cared for. The people will sing about the Mekong Delta that once was. -Tiana In Bến Tre, we took a tour through town. Various modes of transportation are used - boats, bikes, motorbikes, and tuk tuks. One of the locals, Anh Quy, took us on a tour of his home town. He said he learned English in college and majored in tourism so that he could come back to work in his home town. He showed us how the boats are used to transport goods like fruits and vegetables. He also showed us how fishing was done in the rivers and the canals. It is beautiful to see how the Vietnamese people try their best to use the products of the land, but also try not to waste anything. For example, water coconuts are used to make many materials. The meat of the coconut is used to make candy, the juice is added to flavor foods, and the shell is used to make combs, bags, and art. During the tour, I felt like a tourist. Reflecting back on the experience, I realized that the Vietnamese were also sharing their perspective on life with me. I am grateful for the time they spent to share their livelihoods with me.
Eco-tourism seems accepted in the community we were staying with in Bến Tre. Our host collaborated with community members to show us the cultural practices of Bến Tre. Anh Quy played a scavenger hunt game with us, which introduced us to some of the local businesses. At the first station, we learned how to make nước mía, freshly squeezed sugar cane juice. I saw how community members came to this house to order this sweet juice to go. At the second station, we learned how to peel the outer husk of the coconut to reveal the next layer. Bến Tre is one of the 12 provinces of the Mekong Delta. This community depends on the produce of the land. They rely on both the land and the river. In the past, they relied on the freshwater that flowed down the Mekong River. Because of climate change and rising sea levels, these people are now worried about the increase of floods in the delta. Too many floods will decrease crops. Too much water is not the only issue. Salty sea water is also backing up into the rivers, which destroys plants that cannot tolerate high salinity. We had the opportunity to visit the Ba Tri community in the Mekong Delta, which was about one hour away from Ben Tre. We met with the local officials who informed us about the trends that were occurring in the area. They told us that in 2015, the Ba Tri community faced a recording breaking drought, which caused a 100% loss of their rice crop. Each year our Earth is getting hotter and hotter, which is causing adverse reactions like this drought in Vietnam. To adapt to this devastation, many of the farmers sought out other farming styles, like raising pigs and cows. However, raising cattle is also difficult because water is needed to feed the cows. Adapting to climate change puts an unexpected burden on farmers. The Ba Tri Community allowed our class to visit the local farms to ask the farmers questions about how they have been adapting to climate change. When we asked questions, some farmers were more informed than others about climate change. Some famers thought they had been getting unlucky weather. More informed farmers took advantage of community workshops and meetings to learn about what had happened to their crops. It was comforting to know that the local government takes initiative to help assist their community members especially in times of hardship and need. The people of Bến Tre and Ba Tri take great pride in their ability to cultivate their land to raise fruitful crops. It is disheartening that these are some of the people who suffer the most from climate change because their jobs rely so heavily on the environment. The United States is among one of the largest emitters of greenhouse gases. Many Americans still deny climate change. However, Vietnamese citizens are aware and suffer the most from greenhouse emissions from industrialized countries like the United States. -Tiana During our class debriefing session on the bus from Ben Tre to Can Tho, Professor Mike Hoffmann asked each member of the class to say one word they think describes the Vietnamese people. I said “enduring.” Some other words that came up included “friendly,” “welcoming,” “forgiving,” “resilient,” “lovely,” and “hospitable.” Perhaps the one that stuck out most for me was “resourceful.” Throughout the trip we learned that the Vietnamese people do not waste very much. On a tour of the Mekong River in Ben Tre, we learned that the husks of rice are burned as fuel for the kilns at a brick family business, and that ashes from the burning are used as fertilizer. Extra food at our Ben Tre homestay was fed to the animals. At a place where people make rice paper and rice noodles in Can Tho, our guide Ana said “People here don’t waste anything from rice.” We also saw creative ways to use banana leaves to wrap Banh Tet and also to wrap around dirt when planting seeds. While I, as an American, definitely learned very much from these resourceful methods to help eliminate wasteful practices back at home, I also learned about making the most out of life by not wasting time on our trip. For example, waking up in order to leave our hotel in Can Tho at 5:30 in the morning was definitely difficult. Morale among the group was low at the time, but in the end it was worth it to see the bustling and lively floating markets on the Mekong River as the sun was rising. I also learned to make the most out of my experiences talking with farmers. Sometimes I worried about having too narrow of a focus on climate change given all of the lectures we received about the damaging effects on farmers in the Mekong Delta. So when I heard from farmers who didn’t always mention detrimental effects of climate change, I was surprised. But I tried to make the most out of listening to them and trying to understand their lives and piece together what they are going through. Even when I didn’t always hear what I expected or exactly what I may have wanted to hear to match the climate change lectures, I learned about how farmers are constantly adapting to changing weather patterns and other related issues. At the Rice Research Institute, we saw many varieties of rice that are being tested, as the Vietnamese people adapt and make the most of their situation dealing with saltwater intrusion. From the Vietnamese people and my experiences in Can Tho, and throughout Vietnam, I learned to make the most out of life and my relationships with others. When we listened to the lecture about traditional folk music in the Mekong Delta, and saw how the group of amateur musicians connected with each other and enjoyed themselves, I observed how they made the most out of their time and their relationships with each other. Whether it be an object, like rice, a situation, like climate change, or just relationships and experiences in life, I have learned from the Vietnamese people that being resourceful, eliminating waste, and making the most out of anything and everything are all invaluable ways to live. -Becky When leaving Saigon, I was a bit nervous for what would be in store when we traveled to Ben Tre, a province in the Mekong Delta that is much more rural than the bustling city. Our homestay was peacefully located on a canal and equipped with hammocks, dogs, and friendly people. Along with the charm and tranquility of the place, there came bed nets, unconventional bathrooms, and log cabins with some cracks in the walls that allowed for insects and other small animals to enter the rooms. With a brief power outage during dinner one night, it was clear that we weren’t staying in a luxury hotel, but my initial hesitancy and apprehension evolved into appreciation, gratitude, and a new perspective by the end of our time in Ben Tre. On our first full day in the province, we rode bicycles to a farm. Traffic in Vietnam is very chaotic, with motorbikes, cars, and trucks all sharing the road and loosely following traffic regulations. As we peddled through busy intersections, over bridges, and on the sides of highways, my heart was pounding with adrenaline and a little bit of fear too. Even with the discomfort I felt, I realized that it was an amazing opportunity to truly be immersed in the traffic and culture, and to experience what the Vietnamese people do on a daily basis. We could have taken a bus or a taxi to the farm, which surely would have been a familiar and comfortable experience, but the new experience was immersive and enriching – and fun too. Admittedly, there were many moments during our time in Ben Tre when I found myself in new and unfamiliar situations. When we were doing service learning on one farm, we took our shoes off and entered the mud between beds of bitter melon crops, picking up silt to place around the plant roots in order to provide more nutrients. Being up to my knees in mud was dirty and tiring, but if asked to do it again, I would in a heartbeat. In the mud I was in solidarity with the Vietnamese farmers who work tirelessly in the sun to make a living, while facing the challenging effects of climate change. Later we put sugarcane through a pressing machine and manually spun a very heavy metal wheel, which was another chance to be in solidarity with local people who sell sugarcane juice each day. When I sipped the cold, sweet juice after putting in lots of hard work using the machine, the drink tasted so delicious, probably because I put in work and got to enjoy the reward. When we later wrapped Banh Tet, a traditional Vietnamese food for Tet (the lunar new year), I was out of my comfort zone preparing something I’d never tried before. But listening to the women helping us made me grow and appreciate the culture. The language barrier experienced throughout the trip could definitely be unsettling at times, but I have come to realize that unsettling and uncomfortable situations are some of the most valuable ones for personal growth. Wrapping the Banh Tet was another instance of service learning, and sometimes I doubted how much our group was actually helping, since the women teaching us were very skilled and they probably lost time teaching us how to wrap and correcting our work. But I think it is good to put myself in unfamiliar situations, be in solidarity with people, and even question myself and the value of my actions as I am doing them. Service learning has many different components, and to ignore the questionable parts is to disregard the larger picture that I can learn and grow from through my experiences. In Ben Tre, I began to realize how much I was learning from my hands on, new, and exciting experiences. I realized that there is so much to be discovered through discomfort. Living in the homestay, going on the bike ride, working on the farm, pressing sugarcane juice, and wrapping Banh Tet all allowed me to learn about myself, be in solidarity with others, and do things I never I expected I would – or could – do. If I stayed in comfort and familiar situations throughout the trip, I would be closed off to an entire world of wonder and new perspectives. Ben Tre helped me realize that I want to keep an element of discomfort in my life. Where there is discomfort, there are problems, and where there are problems, there are solutions waiting to be found. Climate change is definitely an uncomfortable topic since it has so many ramifications for society and the livelihoods of everyday people. Taking part in that difficult discussion, rather than shying away, is something I strive to do after my time in Ben Tre. It’s important to never become complacent – about climate change, inequality, and all other injustices in the world. Part of me worries that when I return to America, I’ll return to my comfort zone and I’ll forget everything I learned and the way I felt during my unfamiliar experiences. But after my time in Ben Tre, I will do my best to remember my discomfort and solidarity, appreciate what I have and what I learned, and use what’s in my power to do something about it. -Becky Our final days in Vietnam were a whirlwind of activity, even more
so than the previous two weeks had been. We hopped on a short flight to Phan Rang, a coastal town North of Ho Chi Minh City. We arrived to the first rain we’d seen during our trip, but that didn’t stop some of us from jumping into the ocean as soon as we set our bags down. The resort we stayed at was beautiful and steps away from the water, though the water and beach had a significant amount of trash. The next morning proved to still be overcast and rainy, but we visited a fishing harbor, where I was able to see the traditional Vietnamese fishing boats. The boats are woven together and basically look like giant, floating wicker baskets. The fisherman maneuver these boats with ease, though I’m sure actually balancing in one is much more difficult than they made it look. After leaving the harbor, we drove through the winding roads of the countryside, while our guide pointed out salt flats, rice paddies, vineyards, and sand dunes. The landscape of this region was significantly different than that of the Mekong. This area is usually very dry (our guide joked that we should play the lottery while here if we were lucky enough to bring rain with us!), and the lush forests and mangroves of the delta are replaced by huge swaths of flat, open land dotted with towering mountains. Similar to in the Mekong, it looked like most of the arable land was devoted to agriculture, and it was interesting to note the differences in crops grown between the two regions. In Phan Rang, there was less tree fruit but more grapes, but rice remained a constant for both regions. We made a few stops along our tour of Phan Rang, exploring a weaving village which produced beautiful hand woven traditional Vietnamese clothing. We also stopped at a pottery outlet, where we were treated to a live demonstration of traditional pottery techniques, and even got to try it out for ourselves! As we moved around the area and took in the local scene, I continued to think about modernization and how it will affect rural Vietnam. Agricultural is changing quickly and for many reasons: economic, environmental, and cultural to name a few. New agricultural practices, technology, and policy will affect everyone in Vietnam, but the rural poor will probably see most of the change because their lives are so intertwined with agriculture and the land. On the other hand, in HCMC and Can Tho, modernization was obvious. Diets are shifting, becoming more Westernized and including more meat, processed food, and wheat. How will these shifting dietary practices influence agriculture in Vietnam? I’m also interested in learning more about the development of biotechnology in Vietnam. It didn’t appear to be a huge topic of concern at present, but it seems likely to be in the future. While biotechnology has the potential to save millions of lives while protecting the environment, there are considerable challenges that must be dealt with. Among them are questions surrounding seed ownership, genome patenting, GM regulation, GM labeling, loss of heritage crop varieties, and increased power of large multinational agribusiness conglomerates. How Vietnam responds to these questions will shape the lives the Vietnamese people for generations to come. I’m interested in doing more digging about the attitudes towards and plans for biotechnology in Vietnam’s future. -Kerry My alarm shattered the tranquility of the hotel room as Skrillex’s “Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites” blasted on a nearby nightstand. The clock shows 5 AM. I rise up from bed like a zombie from a grave (with the same amount of enthusiasm too, I’m sure) and hasten to silence the alarm. I turn on the light to find my roommate staring at me, confused as to why I have chosen such a jarring alarm sound to wake up to. It certainly gets the job done…
After making our way down to the lobby, we hop into some taxis and head to our destination - the riverfront. I get my first real glimpse of Can Tho in the wee hours of the morning, the streets seemingly empty compared to the normal hustle and bustle of traffic. We arrive at the riverfront and board a boat to take us on a tour of the famous floating market of Can Tho. The floating market was overwhelming. Much of the river’s surface was replaced by boats as far as the eye can see, stretching from riverbed to riverbed. In the middle, a small section of river remained clear where our boat and several others tried to maneuver through the crowdedness. Eager sellers beckoned to our boat, offering us their freshest fish and fruits. A ‘cafe boat’ latched onto the side of ours and distributed freshly brewed iced coffees to the tired passengers onboard - it was an awesome experience! The floating markets are just one of multiple examples that show the Vietnamese’s reliance on the river to support their livelihoods. While the Mekong River serves as a means of transportation, it also serves as a channel for locals to sell their products. Additionally, the floodplain that surrounds the Mekong River holds some of the most fertile lands which farmers use to grow rice - a crop that serves as the primary source of income for farmers in the Delta. The importance and beauty of the river is often the focus of traditional Vietnamese songs. However, the river is changing and it is a result of both climate change and human modification. When we met with the local officials in Ba Tri, we were informed that the water level in the Mekong River is anywhere from 20-40% below normal. While severe drought plays an important role in this statistic, human modification of the river upstream is also a huge contributor for the declining flow rate of the Mekong River. Countries to the North of Vietnam - such as China and Cambodia - are building hydroelectric dams which greatly reduce downstream flow. Many of the lecturers talked about the potential for future conflict as these dams continue to be built despite its impact to Vietnam as the flow rate continues to decline. Perhaps the most significant problem with the declining flow rate of the Mekong River is that the rate of saltwater intrusion is increasing as sea levels continue to rise. These rising sea levels push saltwater up the river and - because the flow rate of freshwater is declining - can work its way further upstream and into farmer’s rice paddies. This ultimately causes a decline in rice yields since rice has a low tolerance to high levels of salinity. Many farmers have switched to intensive shrimp farming in order to cope with saltwater intrusion, but this method of farming has its own string of problems, including the clearance of mangroves along the coast that help hold down soils and slow the rate of erosion. After a long bus ride to Ben Tre, we arrived at the Tran Gia Garden Homestay. The homestay was an idyllic collection of cabins, bungalows, and pavilions that seemed to be a popular tourist stop for people visiting Ben Tre. The homestay also boasted a collection of cute dogs, loud chickens, and large spiders. After unpacking and eating a quick lunch, we embarked on a guided tour of the Mekong Delta canals. We had an energetic and enthusiastic guide, who took us to a variety of business along the delta’s winding waterways. We first stopped at a brick making facility, where we were able to see brick's been fired in a huge stone kiln. The bricks are fired for 21 days, and rice husks were used to keep the fire burning for that entire time. Using the otherwise discarded rice husks for this purpose was just one example of the ingenuity and thrift of the Mekong people. From there, were traveled to a coconut processing facility, where I was able to drink my first coconut water (delicious!) and try some coconut candies produced on site. There, we were also treated to some traditional fruits while listening to a live performance of Vietnamese folk music. Our last stop was a home with a large loom and many woven products for sale. We got to try our hand at weaving, which looked hard to begin with and was even harder to execute. From there, we were transported back home by tuktuk, a kind of modified motorbike with a bed on the back. The following two days in Ben Tre were filled with visits to farms, meetings with local officials, and experiments in service learning. I was excited to have the opportunity to learn hands on how farming is done here, there differences between their methods and American methods were interesting. Though the farms we visited lacked the agrimachinery present on most large American farms, they seemed to operate pretty similarly to smaller, diversified vegetable farms I’ve worked with in the United States. Permanent beds seem to be a common tactic in both Vietnam and the US; the beds here were some of the cleanest and best maintained that I’d ever seen.
I was grateful to see the countryside of Ben Tre. This area was a stark contrast to what I saw in Ho Chi Minh City. Though I’m sure that extreme poverty exists in HCM, I saw less than I expected to around where we were staying. Perhaps travelling to outer districts would expose more, but I didn’t have the chance to do that. Travelling around Ben Tre felt like being in another country. Poverty was rampant, more people travelled on bikes and motos while cars are commonplace in HCM. HCM feels almost Western, with Starbucks and Nike stores and Uber and white people. Travelling to the countryside, Vietnam felt more like the developing country that it is. I’ve heard over and over that there is a more to Vietnam than initially meets the eye. Being in HCM, it’s easy to feel like I’m in Europe or Australia. But travelling to the countryside reminded me that Vietnam has a long way to go to total modernization, not that modernization is necessarily what’s best for the Vietnamese people. It was clear that farming is a difficult life and becoming increasingly so with the challenges presented by climate change. Farmers are shifting their cropping systems, becoming less dependent on rice and diversifying into fruit and aquaculture. Maybe it’s a good thing to not monocrop rice in the entire region, but regardless, rice farming has been the norm here for generations, and change is difficult. -Kerry In the United States, there is a culture of wastefulness. Our society is one built upon comfort but what we often fail to recognize or, more plausibly, what we choose to ignore, is that our excessive consumption has high costs. We too easily dispose of products that can be consumed or reused and then return to the supermarkets to buy even more. I am guilty of being fully immersed in this culture; I throw too much food away and I shower for far too long.
In the Mekong Delta, it’s different. From what I have seen, very little is wasted by those who reside in the region. At our homestay, I observed how unfinished food is not thrown away but is fed to the dogs and the fish and to the earth. Rice crop residues are used for fuel and wine is used as one component of an all-natural pesticide concoction. The level of innovation and creativity is demanding of praise; I never knew you could utilize banana and coconut trees in so many different ways. What we may see as futile is viewed as opportunity by those in Vietnam. Often times, this resourcefulness is a necessity; those in the Delta, a low-income region, do what they can with what they have. Biogas digester systems are becoming more prevalent in Vietnam and they serve as yet another example of the resourcefulness of those in the Mekong Delta. Instead of relying upon firewood, which in the long-run can be costly, farmers derive energy from their animals’ waste in these biomass systems and are able to sustain the ecosystems within their farms from the effluent and sediments that also are components of the system. The system could be dangerous if not properly executed as they can leak methane which is highly combustible and very toxic. The designers of biogas digesters, however, are incredibly knowledgeable and have taken into account potentially dangerous aspects of the system and they continue to find ways to make the systems even more efficient. We had the opportunity to create two biogas digesters for a household in Can Tho. Working alongside local students who are members of the agriculture extension and experts in creating these sustainable energy systems, we helped to provide digesters that will last for over a decade and it was an incredibly informative experience. I had learned about biomass energy systems in my previous courses and it was rewarding to partake in constructing one system. I have been able to see the respect for and reliance upon nature in the Mekong Delta during my time here. I believe that this respect for nature is severely lacking in the U.S. We look towards the natural environment almost solely in terms of what we can extract from it in but we should also think about how we can replenish it. In order to ensure the preservation of the environment, being more mindful of our wastefulness is our only option. I will turn towards the examples of those in the Mekong Delta as a guiding point as to how I should move forward with my own sustainability efforts. Gail Fletcher |
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