Come Together, The Beatles

On May 31, 2013, a turtle researcher and conservationist was murdered on the beach he patrolled. He was killed by the same men he was protecting the turtles from in a gruesome and violent manner. Jairo Mora Sandoval was killed on same beach he risked his life defending.

Since my work here in Panama is similar, immediately after this happened, the New York Times article was shared with me from various friends and family. The director of a non-profit based in the USA shared it first, since they patrol nearby beaches in Costa Rica with student groups. Then another turtle Volunteer living near me. Then a friend from high school who was with me in Costa Rica. All said the same thing: Is what we’re doing safe?

The obvious answer is no, not immediately. We are going out to the beach a night, usually in small groups, usually without a police presence, without anything to protect ourselves from possible violence. We are supposed to have police escorts, at least to the beach and back, but they sometimes are not too interested in this aspect of their job. When they’re sent to the beach, they tend, like everyone else, to treat it as a vacation. What’s to happen if we come across traffickers, poachers or maliantes of any form moving product on our beaches? I guess I could make a sarcastic remark here about buying local – locally grown, locally harvested or locally manufactured in your friendly neighborhood meth lab. But isn’t that the truth? If these people didn’t have a market, wouldn’t a lot of the reason for the violence disappear? What we really need is a policy change worldwide. I’m not saying legalize everything, from marijuana to heroin, but think about it. Violence happens when something is cut off. Look at the prohibition: crime and alcohol abuse tripled because it was necessary in order to get your fix. Or, for an example closer to home, how many of us made mistakes with alcohol our freshman year of college? The first time we could get our hands on it easier, and, well, we abused it. The same thing has happened with drugs.

And what of the man who died? 26 years old, doing something that he loved, something he was passionate about. We see the same thing with skiers dying on the mountain, or climbers, or any extreme athlete. “At least they died doing something they loved, something they were passionate about.” In a strange, sad way, it’s the same thing here. Jairo died defending the beach. Doing something he was passionate about. It’s different, of course, since he died by the hand of someone else in a most brutal fashion, but the same message goes out – we need to be more aware of risks we take on when we go to the beaches at night, just like pro skiers need to be aware of possible parachute malfunctions and climbers about rock wall stability. But our dangers are more man-made.

Am I going to stop doing what I’m doing? You should know the answer: no. But I’ll constantly think about the dangers and probably be smarter. The difference in my town is that I know each one of the poachers. I know why some of them do it, and the greed that affects the others. My town has always felt that poaching and selling eggs is their right, since they are blessed with the arribada. Others do it because it’s a relatively easy way to support their family – you don’t need an education, you just need to lose a few nights of sleep. Still others do it because every so often, they want to enjoy some turtle eggs with their rice. I realize now, though, that alongside my work on the beach, I need to supplement education, whether it’s sitting on the porch with my friends talking about how the resource will last longer if they use it a different way, or formal education in the school, teaching kids the importance of conservation – not just with the turtles, but with everything.

It seems that education is the key to everything, right? Educating your family, your friends and yourself on all the species that are endangered. With the obvious exception of one (the panda bear – those are just weird animals, who knows how they survived as long as they did, though climate change does affect them, as it does all of us), all endangered species are that way because of human involvement. Read up, on your own about endangered species in your own area, whether it’s the dolphin, the wolf, grizzly bear, or whatever else. Look at how amazing they are, how cool the way the hunt or live is. Appreciate them, and then take action. There are simple things you can do, such as not eating canned fish – since the fishing practices harm turtles, dolphins and other accidental captures (yes exclusion nets work for some species, but not all). Watch an episode of Planet Earth if you still need convincing. I can tell you from experience, it can sometimes be overwhelming, but every little thing you do counts. Whether it’s transplanting one turtle nest to hide it from poachers, one charla about conservation – not just of a controversial species, or telling one friend in the US about this experience. Every little thing helps. It has to.

Finally, in my town, in my Peace Corps community, I am safe. I hope to continue to see an outcry against things like this, and keep telling my friends and family about the issues I see and hoping, praying even, that soon, the world will see this and start conservation efforts, like those that stemmed from the staggeringly low counts of Bengal tigers, and other extremely endangered species.

Oppression isn’t just something we do to one another. Oppression is something we do to everything without a voice, whether it’s women in machista Latina cultures, orphaned children in Africa, the LGBT community everywhere in the world, or animals in your own backyard. There is only one way to fight against oppression, and it’s by standing up for those without voices, who can’t stand up for themselves. And against humanity, animals need our help.