Berkley Center

When I first arrived to Ecuador, I honestly didn’t know what to expect with regards to the looks of the Ecuadorian country. I had seen pictures of the Galapagos, but I knew these tropical islands would be far from the city of Quito, my current home. I knew I would be at zero latitude, but also at a very high altitude, and I knew that Ecuador boasts its reputation as one of the most biodiverse countries in the world. What was I to find in Ecuador’s capital?

To my surprise, Quito is all mountains surrounding a sprawling and rapidly growing metropolis that at first glance is not very picturesque at all. Though the colorful skies at sunset, filled with puffed up clouds perched upon mountaintops, are on par with a California sunset in my hometown, one of the main reasons these colors occur is due to the relentless pollution emitted during the day. A girl from Los Angeles should surely be used to this type of air pollution, right? Wrong.

The type of Quiteño pollution I’m talking about is of the breed that is clearly visible as it poufs up in to an ominous jet-black cloud from the tailpipe of the numerous public buses that run throughout the city all hours of the day. Worse yet is when one has the luck to be standing too close to the street or walking across it when this said cloud of diesel particulates engulfs the innocent passer-by. Although I’ve become more accustomed to this constant game of holding my breath at the right moment, as a STIA major, it made me very curious as to why nothing was being done about this obvious source of pollution that diminishes the city’s beauty and the health of its inhabitants.

As I was talking to the professor of my Impacts of Climate Change class, we got around to this subject of how Ecuadorians view the environment. When I asked him how Quiteños could possibly stand this pollution, he supposed that well, in reality, they were simply used to it. He added that more than this, because Ecuador is still developing, environmental issues are not usually high on their list of priorities. He pointed to the fact that in more ways than one, the developed world is living in the future.

I told him I couldn’t understand how the people of a country so rich in invaluable natural resources and beauty, such as the Amazon rainforest and the Galapagos, could be apathetic to environmental issues. I also commented that my classes about ecology and environmental sciences maybe had a total of one or two Ecuadorian students, and that this surprised me. He agreed with me that there is indeed a lack of awareness among Ecuadorians, but that their lifestyle just really couldn’t be compared with those of Americans because even though they may live a less green life, consumption per capita is still much lower.

Reflecting later on what he told me, I realized that the Ecuadorian point of view isn’t one of apathy, not really, but one first and foremost, from the developing world. How can I expect the man selling tamarind candies for 25 cents on the bus to care more about the protection of the environment than making enough money to make it through the day?

This same contentious problem on a much larger scale can be seen in the debate over the Yasuní National Park in the Amazon, a UNESCO world biosphere reserve where in one hectare of land, one can find as many different species of plants and animals as there are in all of North America, and where $7.2 billion worth of crude oil sits beneath the surface. Having recently traveled to the Tiputini Biodiversity Station, a research center established by the university I attend here, Saint Francis University of Quite (Universidad San Francisco de Quito). It is also one of the sites that could potentially be drilled for oil, and where I learned about the multitude of species that are not only rare and beautiful, but could also hold the keys to cures of various human ailments waiting to be discovered.

After seeing even the small amount of development brought to the area by previous oil companies, including the Maxus Road—the only road there—I couldn’t imagine what havoc and destruction the drilling of 846 million barrels of oil would bring. Yet how can developed countries who have created much of the problem ask a country like Ecuador to choose between its economic development, and as a result the quality of life of its citizens, and leaving this monetarily valuable natural resource alone?

From my point of view, I would obviously prefer that Yasuní remains untouched, but my eyes have been opened to what a difficult predicament Ecuadorians must find themselves in. Even if they wanted to protect their country and indigenous peoples from more damage such as that which occurred with previous drilling by Chevron, how sweet and readily accessible must those billions of dollars look to them, especially since much of Ecuador’s past growth has been due to the oil boom here in the 1970s. It’s almost like the key to the bank vault is being dangled in front of their faces, but they’re being told they can’t have it.

Though as of September, President Rafael Correa has pledged to forego drilling indefinitely, he also asks that developed countries supplement Ecuador’s substantial losses by paying 50 percent of the expected income they are also foregoing. It is an interesting dilemma to watch unfold, and one that I think deserves more attention in the developed world since its result is ultimately in their hands.

Personally, I would feel that we would be doing a great disservice to the world were we to permit this drilling to occur, but I understand better now where the other side is coming from. For now, I guess I will keep breathing in the smog and carry on.