Tag Archives: nature

Let’s Pulp These Redwoods

As I was in Muir Woods yesterday, gazing up at redwood trees that were decades old, trees that oozed wisdom and earthiness and nature, I thought to myself, “These would make a dump-load of paper.” The pile would be huge! A gigantic pile of paper, a majestic pile of all different kinds of paper: magazine grade paper, cardstock, envelopes, post-its, a mosaic of various types and cuts of paper.

I wonder how many dumpsters all that paper would fill. If you took all the trees in Muir Woods and made it into paper (toilet paper, nose tissue, cardboard), I bet it would take up an entire landfill. So much waste…it would be awesome!

Just one tree would make reams and reams of paper. They’re so tall! Those towering majestic redwoods are so slender and shapely I just want to shove them into a pulper and let the magic happen.

If we made Muir Woods into paper and then took that trash to the moon and littered it everywhere, it would probably cover a large portion of the moon’s surface, or at least fill that place that’s called something like the Sea of Loneliness and we could rename it the Sea of Redwood Trash instead.

And if we took all the redwood paper and dumped it into the ocean, I can’t even imagine how much wildlife we would kill. But it would definitely be an insane amount.

Nature is awesome.

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An Automated Response to the Rainfall

visual evidence of what may have been the end

Alert. Alert.

This is an automated message addressing the near-apocalypse that occurred last night in Cairo, Egypt from approximately 17:30 to 20:30 pm.

What could have been the end of the world took the form of a heavy rain descending upon Egypt’s capital. The moisture falling from the sky proceeded to form large lakes and puddles on every uncovered surface in the greater metropolitan area due to a complete lack of street drains. Thankfully, the inconveniently tall sidewalks were still of no use since they are pocked with various pits and sudden changes in height and existence.

As the night progressed, the (temporary) bodies of water became foamy, a result of both the physical movement of cars and the multiple chemical reactions going on between the various air and ground pollutants that include but are not limited to: soap, animal feces, garbage, and car exhaust. This foam can and will be used by the Egyptian government as a new form of riot control.

Though the streets have suffered considerable damage from the acidic mixture eating away at the concrete and asphalt, their physical appearance is almost indistinguishable from what it was before the quasi-Armageddon and the new potholes will likely go unnoticed.

Mild panic reigned over much of the populace during the moisture-time, resulting from an inability to identify the bizarre tapping sound that pervaded Cairo’s various boroughs. Once the sound and the substance causing it were identified, the panic was replaced with a sense of bewilderment, wonder, and hunger as entire families gathered round to watch the sky water drip down the sides of buildings and make the streets unusable.

Though Cairo’s streets were predicted to bloom today as the result of this rare rain, it appears the only thing blooming this year is Egypt’s democracy, and even that has a chance of getting stuck in the chemical muck left behind on both major and minor thoroughfares.

In response to the widespread fear that such a scathing indictment of the quality of the roads and sidewalks will cause the government to respond, an official has reassured the populace that, as in the past, nothing will be done to change the infrastructure’s current condition and that there is no cause to worry.

Happy Election Day. Please do not respond to this message.

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Get Out of My Desert

We found it first.

(My trip to the incredibly beautiful White Desert continued, with more details and complaints.)

Civilization either exiles you to the desert or it wastes your sanity until you seek the desert as a refuge. For me, the desert was the latter: an escape from the mouth breathers and the metro pushers, the exhaust sniffing and the car evasion that scents my daily Cairo existence.

In the White Desert, rolling over the dunes and scrabbly rockscapes in the Jeep, I felt like not only had I escaped from it all, but “it all” was actually fake. Cairo, along with the entire world and its issues, was only a dream that paled in comparison to the stark reality of desert life and the landscapes formed by nothing but geological upheavals over the past couple of millennia.

Occasionally I would sink into reveries and imagine myself as the first person to have ever walked on this rock, or touched this grain of sand, or fallen down on this boulder. These thoughts, however, were likely folly. We were not alone. Other “people” had somehow found out about the White Desert. Was it the fact it’s a national park? That it’s discussed in detail in the Lonely Planet guidebook? That there’s a separate guidebook for the Western Desert of Egypt that outlines the nooks and crannies of the White Desert? The real reason will probably never be known, but the fact remains that though we spent much of the time by ourselves during our desert escapade, we did come across an unfortunate amount of intruders.

In theory, these humans were normal, fine people. Yet I despised them nevertheless. First of all, upon spotting another group in the desert, the air becomes electrified with tourist tension. I resent the other with a passion approaching my love for mushy, hot cereal. The other group is a reminder that my experience is not singular, that others have seen these things and taken better pictures than me. It’s kindergarten all over again: “Kids, you need to know one thing. You’re not special. There are 7 billion people on this planet. Your main purpose in life will be to serve as a statistic for marketing purposes. Half of you will divorce.”

Second of all, eco-tourists are filthy creatures that create waste, both natural and artificial. Despite encouragement from many reputable sources, including Lonely Planet, many tourists do not even attempt to burn their toilet paper after doing their despicable duty. Friends, let me tell you this: toilet paper does not stay buried in the desert for long. Like your shameful secret of eating 3 bags of peanut butter M&Ms before bed every night, it will be blubber to the surface. There’s nothing more unpleasant than realizing what you thought was a pristine campsite is littered with the unspeakable trash of inconsiderate patrons.

So, if you must disturb my desert, please remain quite shameful about your bodily functions and do everything in your power to prevent others from knowing that you have ever done anything so embarrassing.

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On the Moon and Under the Sea: Egypt’s White Desert

Yellow sand. Blue Sky. White Chalk. Colors.

When last with you, I chronicled my brush with food poisoning that was the result of a bacteria-rich egg sandwich. So weak was I on Thursday, November 3, 2011, that I could barely load episodes of Parks and Recreation as I lay curled on my bed in a fetal position, choking down mugs of vegetable broth.

At any rate, when I awoke the next day at the ripe hour of 7:30 am with only a dull pain in my empty stomach, my last retching completed at 1: 30 am in the morning, I decided I was well enough to go on an off-road-camping-desert-expedition-exploration-adventure centered around the desperate hunt for the remains of mythological sea creatures. Even though we didn’t find the Snorkoloptus, the excursion was still amazing, especially after the desert madness set in.

4 companions, 4 wheels, 4 days-worth of body filth, 4 different camping locations, and a whole lot of mutual annoyance while rambling through the beautiful, ethereal shapes of the White Desert made for a trip that I hope to rub in the faces of my great-grandchildren as we’re floating above a wasted earth in our spher0ships. “Before we destroyed the earth, kids, there was a lot of cool stuff there, like the White Desert in Egypt, something you’ll never get to see. We also ate peanut butter instead of this space paste. And no one was ever sad.”

Located in western Egypt, the White Desert is known for its beautiful sculptures carved by the wind, sand, and rain out of the chalk formed from the remnants of the sea creature skeletons, since the entire area used to be at the bottom of the ocean. As we tumbled around the desert, off and occasionally on-roading in the jeep, we saw breathtaking cliffs, moon-like landscapes, rolling sand dunes, mystical oases, and occasional groups of leathery European tourists, by far the least attractive things in the desert.

The colors themselves deserve an entire blogpost. Nay, an entire blog. Each sunset and sunrise was a feast for the eyes, a palette of ever changing shades that would make a MAC eyeshadow case blush. And at night, our world was lit up by the milky rays of a waxing moon as we tried to run away from our moon shadows and one of us wouldn’t stop singing that song by Cat Stevens. As I look back now on our last night there, I can see myself, a tiny figure, lying in a valley surrounded by forlorn, other-worldly cliffs, the moon illuminating the earth in its pale light while the ghosts of extinct sea creatures float over me. It was the closest I’ll ever get to time, space, and deep ocean travel.

Note: I remembered to charge my battery and bring my camera, but I forgot to put my charged battery back into my camera. Therefore, all pictures are compliments of a friend who was on the trip. See his flickr site here.

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Reptile Wrangle!

she lives!

The characters:

Two perfectly sweet Arabic students. Both have teddy bears at home in the states (one against her will), and both love animals a reasonable amount.

One bowab (see previous post) and one bowab’s brother. Both are respectable gentlemen currently employed in the cleaning of said Arabic students’ apartment (don’t judge us. you try dealing by yourself with the relentless, powdered Cairo that coats your toothbrush).

One large, squirmy gecko. It is a wild animal, and like my sisters, it has the ability to climb on walls and hide behind curtains. If it were to be squashed, one would need more than one paper towel to wipe up the gecko goo.

One set of living room furniture, including a coffee table, a dining table, a couch that pulls apart into sections, and curtains. There’s also a bookshelf but we don’t talk about it. I probably shouldn’t even have mentioned it.

The setting:

Time: Post 6 o’clock coffee and snack break.

Weather: The autumn mildness is setting in and one Arabic student’s bed was cool to the touch when she got back from class today. It was bizarre but not unpleasant.

Location: The living room, slightly disheveled and in the midst of being cleaned by the bowab and bowab’s brother.

Who’s hungry: No one. Large sandwiches were eaten just a few hours earlier.

Begin scene:

One roommate squeals. She has seen a large slithering thing in the apartment. The other roommate is not surprised; she saw that gecko last night. They both huddle near a corner of the room and make a fuss about the wildlife in the house, attracting the bowab’s attention. Quickly, he thinks of a solution and removes his shoe. Upon realizing his intent, the Arabic students’ shrieking becomes louder as they both imagine how disgusting it would be to see a gecko of that size squashed on the wall. Also, geckos are cute.  The bowab ignores their humanitarian and “yucky” concerns equally. “He’ll just come back inside,” he says, determined to crush the gecko that is scurrying across the wall.

The living room transforms into a gladiator’s arena, the gecko its target.  The bowab leaps onto the dining room table. He aims his shoe at the gecko darting across the wall and misses. Now he apparates to the other side of the room and tries to flush the gecko out with a broom. Now he yells at his brother to stop being lazy and help him. Now his reluctant brother is tearing the couch away from the wall in order to apprehend the gecko that has crawled underneath it. All this time the Arabic students clutch each other helplessly and pray that there won’t be a huge stain of lizard innards to look at or clean up.

In the midst of the prevailing chaos, the pleadings of the Arabic students and the acrobatic feats of bowab and brother, the gecko escapes from the room onto the balcony, to the disappointment of some and great relief of others, namely the gecko herself.

End scene.

Postscript:

10 minutes later, the bowab invites Arabic students to go to his village in Upper Egypt (hint: south of Cairo) and visit his family and an old monastery, church, and Roman ruins.  Will there be more geckos to kill?

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