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The Ploy of Soy

Nourishing Our Children

iStock_000012704422Small-TV

Although widely promoted as a health food, hundreds of studies link modern processed soy to malnutrition, digestive problems, thyroid dysfunction, cognitive decline, reproductive disorders, immune system breakdown, and even heart disease and cancer. How could soy be linked to all this disease? Because the soybean contains many naturally occurring toxins. All legumes contain toxins but the problem with soy is that the toxins are found in very high levels and are resistant to the traditional ways of getting rid of them.

Long, slow fermentation, as in the traditional production of miso, tempeh and soy sauce, gets rid of the phytic acid and other digestive inhibitors but not the phytoestrogens in soy.

Myths About Isoflavones

One of the most common myths is that soy estrogens (isoflavones) are beneficial for your health. Isoflavones are the estrogen-like compounds occurring naturally in soy foods. They act as the plant’s natural pesticides, causing insects to…

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Hugelkultur_0

hugelkultur in lusignan

< The Many Benefits of Hugelkultur Inspiration Green and Permaculture magazine Thursday, 17th October 2013

Hugelkultur are no-dig raised beds with a difference. They hold moisture, build fertility, maximise surface volume and are great spaces for growing fruit, vegetables and herbs. Hugelkultur, pronounced Hoo-gul-culture, means hill culture or hill mound. Instead of putting branches, leaves and grass clippings in bags by the curbside for the bin men… build a hugel bed. Simply mound logs, branches, leaves, grass clippings, straw, cardboard, petroleum-free newspaper, manure, compost or whatever other biomass you have available, top with soil and plant your veggies.>

https://www.permaculture.co.uk/articles/many-benefits-hugelkultur

hugelkultur- the beginning

hugelkultur- the beginning2

hugelkulture bed4

Diary of a mothering worker. August 11, 2016

common scenario in Guyana as well.. IPV is a problem regionally/worldwide, unfortunately

grrlscene

Post 233.

Though she sat with her head down, I could only think of her resilience. Now 31 years old, having survived fourteen years of battering by the father of her seven children, she seemed finally about to make a sure step away. Her neighbours, who have offered many moments of care, are unsung heroes of our nation, helping without public recognition, and it’s their strength that she is relying on to find hers.

The beatings started after her first son, as they do for so many women for whom having children puts them at greater risk of domestic violence. At first, women think it will stop. She said, she had ‘hope’. As their children increase, they become less able to leave, and to manage on their own. The rest of us may think that anything is better than a violent home, but that doesn’t help us to understand the…

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green audre

must read audre lorde every day

“How much of this truth can I bear to see and still live
unblinded?
How much of this pain can I use?”

“And I find I must remember that the pain is not its own reason for being. It is a part of living. And the only kind of pain that is intolerable is pain that is wasteful, pain from which we do not learn. And I think that we must learn to distinguish between the two.”

“One of the hardest things to accept is learning to live within uncertainty and neither deny it nor hide behind it. Most of all, to listen to the messages of uncertainty without allowing them to immobilize me, nor keep me from the certainties of those truths in which I believe. I turn away from any need to justify the future- to live in what has not yet been. Believing, working for what has not yet been while living fully in the present now.”

“I have found that battling despair does not mean closing my eyes to the enormity of the tasks of effecting change, nor ignoring the strength and the barbarity of the forces aligned against us. It means teaching, surviving and fighting with the most important resource I have, myself, and taking joy in that battle. It means, for me, recognizing the enemy outside, and the enemy within, and knowing that my work is part of a continuum of women’s work, of reclaiming this earth and our power, and knowing that this work did not begin with my birth nor will it end with my death. And it means knowing that within this continuum, my life and my love and my work has particular power and meaning relative to others.”

17203_Korea-new_1_460x230

green olympics my bamzee- 500 year old forest cleared for 3-day event

https://secure.avaaz.org/en/save_ancient_korean_forest_1/?pv=61

To the International Olympic Committee :

We call on you to ensure that Mount Gariwang is protected and not clearcut to make way for an Olympic venue that will only be used for three days during the 2018 Pyeongchang Winter Olympics. We call on you to truly live up to your ideals of sustainability and environmental protection and save the Korean forest that has been protected for over 500 years. Old growth forests can not simply be replaced or restored, please investigate other options for the events.

please sign and share. then do more. in your communities, wherever they are.

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1000MW coal-fired plant is a retrograde step, says JET

Petchary's Blog

I am posting below a press release from the Jamaica Environment Trust (JET), strongly opposing the construction of a 1000MW coal-fired power plant in Nain, St. Elizabeth. Such a large plant would cause untold harm in terms of pollution of the earth, sea and air – and consequently our own health. It would also greatly increase carbon emissions, in contradiction of the Paris Agreement on Climate Change that Jamaica recently signed. I will be writing more about this in subsequent blog posts. Let us stick with natural gas and renewables, as clearly stated in the Government’s Energy Policy. Coal is not the way to go! 

Coal-fired power plants are the most polluting form of energy generation. Such a large plant in a largely rural area would cause great harm to the health of residents in surrounding areas, and across the island. (Photo: Reuters) Coal-fired power plants are the most polluting form of energy generation. Such a large plant in a largely rural area would cause great harm to agriculture and to the health of residents in surrounding areas, and across the island. (Photo: Reuters)

August 3, 2016

Following…

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People’s Agrarian Reform: An Alternative to the Capitalist Model by João Pedro Stedile & Osvaldo León

mark jacobs lives!

ALAI AMLAT-en, 02/07/2014.- Since the 1980s, we are living in a new phase of capitalism, marked by the hegemony of finance capitalism and transnational corporations, which have gained control of the production of the principal commodities and world trade, generating structural change in agricultural production.

This control over goods by financial capital that circulates in the  world in proportions five times greater than their equivalent in actual  production (255 billion dollars/year in currency, for 55 billion dollars/year in goods), transforms natural assets – such as land, water,  energy, minerals – into mere commodities under its control. And due to this, there is an enormous concentration of property in land, natural assets and food.

In effect, at the present time, close to one hundred food and agriculture transnationals (such as Cargill, Monsanto, Dreyfus, ADM, Syngenta, Bunge, etc.) control the greater part of world production of fertilizers, agrochemicals, pesticides, agro-industries and…

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How little girls get crushed #blackfeminisms

Feminist Conversations on Caribbean Life

So this man is charged with raping a 12 year-old girl repeatedly over more than six months. The prosecution has conclusive DNA evidence and the girl has some familial connection to the rapist. The story is being carried on radio and the DJ asks, could it be a case where he thought she was older???

Could it be a case where he’s a rapist?

Please show me the man who assumes he’s having a mutually satisfying sexual and dating relationship with a sophisticated 35-year-old librarian only to discover that all along he’s been raping a 12-year-old girl? Hasn’t happened. Doesn’t happen. Won’t happen. Ever.

Rapists who prey on girls do so precisely because they know girls have been made vulnerable and devalued by the collective consciousness where it is more comfortable and plausible to assume that a 12-year-old girl has tricked a grown-ass man than to insist that men…

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cochore at mon repos market. aka sloth rescue adventure. which all came about thanks to a plastic chinee toilet seat. keep reading

i didn’t set out to be a chochore. truth be told, i wasn’t even 100% sure what a cochore was.. i was, after all, miss bibi’s daughter, raised to be a “good muslim girl” by my schoolteacher mother. so, 6 months shy of 40, i still wasn’t 100% sure what a cochore was. after he ‘bused me tho, using it in a sentence- “you is a cochore!”- i finally got it.

i didn’t set out to be a cochore. no, i innocently rode my bike to the mon repos market last week simply to purchase a few items to prepare for some friends who were scheduled to pay me a visit  the next day. they wanted to eat breadfruit and soursop- things that are best gotten fresh- hence my visit to the market (since i don’t have those trees in my yard- yet). i got the breadfruit and soursop then decided to go check out this hardware store at the other end of the market. i don’t usually go there, since it means passing the butcher section. it’s hard enough on my vegetarian-for-decades stomach/soul to see the numerous carcasses slung up; worse are the cages of live animals punishing down below.. but i needed a new toilet seat- esp since overseas guests were visiting and all (i haven’t lived in this new place for 3 months yet and i’m not over 110 lbs but already i’m on my 3rd toilet seat. don’t ask. #cheapchineseplasticgoods!). there was no way around; i’d have to pass directly by the butchers.. there are over a dozen stalls selling meat, both ‘regular’ meat- ie cow, pig, chicken, etc, and ‘wild’- ie deer, labba, etc. i took a deep breath and tried to hold it and myself together. then i saw the sloth.

sloth at mon repos market

it caught my eye right away. it’s not every day you see a sloth, after all. i had first read about sloths in the book “3 singles to adventure” by british zookeeper gerald durrell- and have loved them ever since, feeling more than a passing kinship (fellow vegetarian, fellow fondness for energy conservation😉 ). i biked past, then stopped, got off my bike, and looked back to make sure my eyes had seen correctly. the sloth was stuffed inside a narrow cage, right on the roadside, in the hot hot sun. as i looked, a man dumped a bottle of water over it. there was a policewoman in a yellow jacket not far off, directing traffic. i knew it was a waste of time to approach her- her job was to direct traffic and that’s all she would do- this i know. it was saturday and i also knew that none of the staff at any of the relevant government agencies would be working. not that i knew any phone numbers to call or anything- such information is scarce in the public domain in Guyana.

i called the one person i knew would come, as long as she was in the country/county. Syeada is forever ‘rescuing’ animals in Guyana, one of several dedicated animal lovers I know. She happens to have a vehicle and connections, and she and I had collaborated before (although we also disagree on some fundamental points). Sure enough, as soon as i told her what i’d seen, she said she’d be right there. right meant about half hour though. i went back to where the sloth was and struck up a conversation with the vendor. he was helping another man sell wild meat- the other man mostly sat in the vehicle while he wielded the cutlass and carved the various portions that customers desired.

so, ah, where you catch this sloth? linden side, he replied. how you ketch it? well, i see it since last week, in a tree, and i was thinking i would cut down the tree and get it. but when i went with my chainsaw, it had moved. then i saw it again the other day. i threw a net over it and is so i ketch it. oh wow. you catch plenty of them before? yes man, nuff. is good money you know. oh yea? how much you selling it for? $10K, he replied ($50USD). i used to get $3-4000 back in the day, but now i get $10-$15K. oh yea? who you does sell them to? anybody, he replied. there are a couple of guys who normally buy them; they in the wildlife trade. so they export them? yea. isn’t that illegal? nah, they got permit. hmm. but don’t you have to have a permit too, to catch it? nah. he laughs. i ask him more questions- how would he like it if someone captures him as he’s going about his daily life, puts him in a cage, and sells him. doesn’t he think it’s cruel? what does he care about more than $$? eh, like you is a christian, he finally says. no, i’m not a christian, i say. there was a christian missionary man who paid me, one time, to loose another sloth i had. did you loose it then? yea. so what if i tell you to loose this one? yuh could buy it and loose it yourself, he laughs at me. but i don’t have $10K in my pocket and only a bicycle for transp.

plenty people walk past. a tween girl squeals excitedly and calls over to another girl on the other side of the street to come see. a chinaman from china comes to buy some wild meat and peers eagerly at the captive sloth. how taste, he asks? NO, i say firmly. NOT FOR EATING! “not for eating?” the chinaman repeats, looking at me quizzically. NO, NOT FOR EATING, i say again, shaking my head empathetically. NOT FOR EATING! not everything is for eating! didn’t you already buy meat? i can’t stop myself. would you eat people? hmm, he looks at me. what eat, he then asks. leaves, i say. how much, he asks the vendor. $15K, says the vendor. thankfully the Chinaman walks away then. i contemplate grabbing the cage and pedaling off with it, but.. there’s that policewoman. and the vendor has a vehicle. and companions. i take some deep breaths to calm myself down and keep waiting for S.

suddenly sirens and some shiny black cars zoom up. the president is passing- i see the cacique crown license plate. i wave and point but cannot see past the tint to see if he’s noticed. the president had spoken out against wild meat consumption- well, just some kinds (http://demerarawaves.com/2016/06/12/these-giants-do-not-belong-in-pepper-pot-and-souse-president-granger/)- and i hoped, as he passed, that he’d stop and talk with these vendors. of course, i knew that was highly unlikely- the sun was hot hot, he had just aged another year, plus had a lot of work to do, but.. one always hopes, even though one knows better. anything is still possible- this i still believe.

i doan know fuh do any odda wuk, the vendor had told me. dey aint got any odda wuk. this is the other thing i wanted the president to talk to people about. a year plus and counting and still there’s no job creation strategy.

but the presidential convoy doesn’t stop and he doesn’t come out of the car and talk with us.

the vendor now mistakes my interest in the sloth as interest in him. lemme ask *you* some questions now, he leers at me, since you bin asking me all those questions all dis time. ohk, i say, scanning the road. where the hell is S?! blah blah blah some more, until finally, she shows up. with her is Melinda- her lawyer friend. M whips out a notepad and pen and immediately begins interrogating the vendor. no more nice and easy chitchat as he and i had been engaging in, no, as M questions him, he starts to sweat, beads popping up on his forehead and running down his neck. we have to take this sloth, S and M announce peremptorily. there is not even any discussion about money. you are breaking the law and we are going to take this animal. beaten by these two strong women, the vendor man submits and even lifts the cage into the back of S’s pickup truck. but the sloth is scared and stressed, understandably, and refuses to move into the big dog kennel that she has brought. eventually, we slide it inside the vehicle, onto the back seat, still in the narrow little cage. S and M drive away and i’m left there with the now sloth-less vendor.

“well, i hope you’ve learnt a lesson!” i say. that’s when he let’s me have it. “you is a cochore! is you call dem people to tek way mi ting!” “your thing?” i retort? is you mek it? stuuuuu. yes, look my face good! cuz you might see it again in court! he quietens down then. but the other wild meat vendor, a big belly man on the other side, then comes over and starts up the rowing again. he’s eating something and as he shouts at me, spittle and crumbs spray out. i let all my disgust show on my face. if was MY thing, y’all could never tek it ‘way like dat, he rages. I know Bernard Dos Santos (big shot pee pee pee lawyer); i does sell he wild meat. i gon bring one o dem tings hay next week and see what u gon do then!

so anyway, now i know exactly what a cochore is. i also know exactly where i’ll be this coming Saturday- liming by the wild meat vendors at Mon Repos market, preparing for another confrontation and potential sloth rescue.. just another day pon de dam in lovely GT..

bigger issues:

– general lack of regulation of widlife trading in Guyana

– lack of enforcement of existing laws- police for example are supposed to deal with cruelty to animals issues.. but- there is widespread corruption, lack of awareness, and unwillingness to take action.

– man feeling like he’s the boss of all other creatures, entitled to act with impunity, kill/capture and eat/sell whatever he can catch.. lack of empathy, willingness to change. selfishness and greed ruling the day.

-lack of jobs in Guyana. lack of education about sustainability, environmental issues, etc.

at least in this one instance, this sloth was saved and released back into the wild.

sloth climbing tree

 

 

 

 

hijabi snake charmer. aka my mom

this is not the bibi i know. the bibi i know is scared of eating fruit picked off the tree, without washing it first. the bibi i know despises having my 2 domesticated cats share her living space. but the bibi i know will also do almost anything for her children, grandchildren, and other people’s children. after i picked my jaw up off the floor after seeing these pics, when i called to ask the alien inhabiting  my mother’s body to stay a while longer, she laughed and told me “the kids made her do it.” my mother, bibi. hijabi snake charmer.😀

mom n casper2

mom n casper

mom n twinkle

mom n twinkle2