Project
Photo: Thomas Jundt / CC BY-NCVictory: Crucitas gold mine cancelled for environmental harm
In Costa Rica, for the first time, a high-level court cancelled a large-scale mining project for the first time because it violated national laws and threatened the health of the environment. AIDA played an important role in establishing this precedent.
The company, Industrias Infinito, with the support of the previous government, planned to construct an open-pit gold mine in an incredibly biodiverse area near San Juan River, which forms the country’s border with Nicaragua.
The construction and operation of the mine threatened not just the environment but the cultural survival of 32 communities whose way of life depends on tourism and sport fishing in the area.
The fight to stop Crucitas began in 2008 when AIDA warned the Costa Rican government about potential international law violations and environmental impacts that had to be considered before allowing for the project’s implementation. We recommended suspending all work on the project until legal compliance and the protection of the environment and human health were guaranteed.
In November 2010, the Costa Rican Contentious Administrative Court cancelled the project’s concession, reiterating the importance of complying with legal standards when approving projects.
Though the company appealed the ruling, an appeals court later rejected their request and the Crucitas gold mine was cancelled for good.
We congratulate the national NGOs who worked on this case, especially the Environmental and Natural Resources Law Center (CEDARENA), for their tireless efforts in defense of the environment and human rights.
It is our hope that the precedent established in the case will be replicated in nations across Latin America.
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Lessons in Strength and Solidarity from the Mexico City Earthquake
Seconds before 1:15 p.m. on September 19, the Earth reminded us just how fragile life is. As soon as we felt the first movement, and the seismic alert confirmed what was happening, our Mexico City team suspended a call with team members in five countries and took to the streets. Words can’t describe the emotions that engulfed us during the next hours and days. Fear and joy, anxiety and solidarity, nervousness and hope. Just two hours before, we had participated in a simulation in honor of the victims of the devastating earthquake exactly 32 years before. While for some residents of Mexico City these exercises are a repetitive protocol, we in AIDA always follow them because our team consists of professionals from across Latin America, some who don’t have experience with earthquakes. So luckily our team knew what to do. We met at the rendezvous point, as best we could. We were relieved to learn the teams of AIDA and CEMDA—with whom we share offices—were all safe and accounted for. But the calm was short-lived, as reports came in from nearby streets: building collapses, gas leaks, the loss of power and communication. The city suspended all activities. Those who were able showed up to help. Damaged streets were flooded with volunteers. Astrid Puentes, co-director of AIDA, gave shelter to our team in her nearby home. Those who could returned to their homes at the end of the day. Unfortunately, the house where one of our interns was staying was left uninhabitable. These have been difficult days. Work was put on hold as our team joined the relief efforts. We have seen so many signs of solidarity. Despite the tragedy, the humility and confidence of the Mexican people has awakened in us a new sense of hope. Everyone could help in some way. We’ve seen therapists, lawyers, motorcyclists, cooks, blacksmiths, architects, masons, journalists, and clowns offering their knowledge and experience to one cause: helping the victims, whether they knew them or not. We won’t emerge from this situation unscathed. While AIDA’s office remains in good condition, the news of friends who have lost loved ones or their homes continues to arrive. But we’ve seen the spectacular strength and resilience of Mexico’s people; they work with their hands as well as their hearts. We know now that the reconstruction that awaits us will have its foundation in solidarity and empathy. We’re confident that the millions of people who have been awakened, who are acting as conscious and involved citizens, will continue working for our city and our country. And we return to our work this week conscious that thousands of people still need help, not just in Mexico City, but also in the states of Morelos, Puebla, Oaxaca, Veracruz, Tabasco, and Chiapas. We will work for them and for the whole continent. We will work for the Earth, which has reminded us that life is but an instant, and that it’s always worth fighting for. -- In solidarity, AIDA’s team from Mexico City: Astrid, Ava, Cecilia, Laura, Paulina, Rodrigo, and Victor. ¡#FuerzaMéxico!
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Why damming rivers, like blocking veins, risks our health
Some of my most treasured childhood memories happened in or near a river. I can still feel the cold water on my feet, and the current that pulled me smoothly past rocks and branches. I remember vacations with my cousins, throwing ourselves into the river near my aunt and uncle’s country house, leaping from the tops of rocks or swinging from the branches of a tree. I remember summer road trips, driving down seemingly endless bridges over the great rivers of southern Mexico. I’ve always thought of rivers as the veins of our planet. In their waters, the rivers and their tributaries carry nutrients to wetlands, lakes, and the sea. They carry oxygen and host thousands of species. They supply drinking water to millions of people in small towns and big cities. They give us food, entertainment, transportation, and life. Recent natural disasters have reminded us that—despite our best attempts—there are no limits, dams, dikes or pipelines that can control the water. It’s true that, properly implemented, dams can have benefits; but in many cases, particularly those of large-scale development, the damages dams do far outweigh any benefits. There are currently more than 300 large dam projects planned or in construction throughout Latin America. Many of them are underway without adequate social and environmental impacts assessments. The results are displaced communities, destroyed forests, and rivers with no fish. Blocking our veins The water flowing down our rivers is vital to the natural equilibrium of the planet and its climate. It’s like the blood circulating through your body. If your bloodflow were blocked, you’d get cardiovascular disease, maybe even a heart attack. Well, damming rivers is like intentionally blocking your veins and expecting no problems. Only one third of the world’s great rivers remain free-flowing, without dams or canals. Now I’m not a doctor, or a biologist, but I often wonder: are we heading for the collapse of our natural system by blocking, tubing, manipulating, and contaminating the veins of the Earth (which, like us, is a living organism)? And because rotting vegetation in dam reservoirs releases lots of methane (a super-potent greenhouse gas), isn’t the current climate crisis, in part, a response to the blockages in Earth’s circulatory system? A slow death The mouth of the Colorado River opens to the Sea of Cortes, in northeast Mexico. It’s an area historically rich in sea life from the Gulf of California. For eons, the flow of the Colorado brought nutrient-rich sediment to the Sea of Cortes. It kept the coastal estuary rich and healthy, along with the animals that sought shelter there. But that’s not happening anymore. The vaquita, now the world’s rarest marine mammal, teeters on the edge of extinction. Between the Colorado River’s mountain headwaters and the end of its main channel, more than 10 large dams and 80 water diversions have squeezed the river dry. Now the Gulf no longer receives the river’s nutrient-rich waters, harming not just marine life like the vaquita, but also the area’s fishermen. No one mentions that the near disappearance of the vaquita has been caused by habitat destruction due to the upstream dams on the Colorado River. Mexico’s last free-flowing river The San Pedro Mezquital River is the last undammed river in the western Sierra Madre Mountains. The river links the region’s indigenous people. It’s a source of their culture and identity. The river channel, more than 500 kilometers long, connects the forests of the highlands with the wetlands of the coast, opening into Marismas Nacionales, the largest mangrove forest in the Mexican Pacific. Marismas Nacionales, declared a wetland of international importance, is home to more than 12,000 families engaged in fishing, agriculture, and tourism. But this national treasure is at risk due to the government’s plan to build a hydroelectric dam on the San Pedro Mezquital. If the river were blocked, its contribution of nutrients downstream would be drastically reduced. The health of Marismas Nacionales, its rich biodiversity, and the region’s sustainable local economy would all be slowly starved. The reservoir would also destroy at least 14 sites sacred to local indigenous communities. But we’ve still got time to stop this plan and others like it. We can avoid the collapse of the natural world that surrounds us, on our one and only planet. By supporting AIDA, you can help keep Earth’s veins flowing free.
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Hope for the Ciénaga, seed of Colombia’s magical realism
“We were in the great swamp, the Ciénaga Grande, another of the myths of my childhood.”– Gabriel García Márquez in Living to Tell the Tale, 2002. Today I learned that Colombia—thanks in part to AIDA’s supporters—took an unprecedented step to save an ecosystem central to Colombia’s identy: the Ciénaga Grande de Santa Marta. As a Colombian and an environmental attorney, I’m deeply moved. And so thankful to the hundreds of supporters whose petition signatures helped move the government to action. The government added the Ciénaga Grande to the Montreux Record, a global list of at-risk wetlands. This action will provide Colombia with international technical and financial support needed to save the vital ecosystem. When I heard the good news, I immediately thought of the yellow butterflies of Macondo. And I thought of Colonel Aureliano Buendía, who stood in front of a firing squad remembering the day his grandfather took him to see ice. The imagery of this magical world, masterfully created by Gabriel García Márquez in One Hundred Years of Solitude, was born from the Ciénaga Grande de Santa Marta. In the early 1900’s, after the Thousand Days’ War, Colonel Nicolás Ricardo Márquez, grandfather of Colombia’s Nobel laureate, passed through the Ciénaga to settle near Aracataca. Later, accompanied by his grandfather, the author crossed the Ciénaga Grande various times to visit his parents in Barranquilla. In 1950, he crossed it again with his mother as they were going to sell his grandparents’ house. It was there, in the Ciénaga Grande, that Márquez found the spark that would light one of the classics of modern literature. So it’s no exaggeration to say that without the Ciénaga Grande, we wouldn’t have the yellow butterflies, or Macondo, or Colonel Aureliano Buendía, embedded so deeply into our cultural memory. It was there that the seed of magical realism was planted. That’s why even a cachaca like me—what those who live in the Caribbean call those of us from the country’s interior—who has lived for many years outside her country, identifies so deeply with the Ciénaga Grande. An international treasure For that and so many other reasons, we at AIDA decided to act in defense of the Ciénaga Grande, named a Wetland of International Importance under the Ramsar Convention. It’s home to Colombia’s largest coastal lagoon, which connects the fresh waters of the mighty Magdalena River with the salt water of the Caribbean Sea. The area is home to many species of mangrove, as well as tropical and riparian forests. It shelters raccoons, howler monkeys, manatees, red herons, ducks, and migrating birds. The Ciénaga Grande also hosts one of the largest artisanal fisheries in Colombia, which supports hundreds of families throughout the area. As a coastal wetland, it’s essential for climate regulation, absorption of pollution from the atmosphere, and flood control. But the Ciénaga Grande is gravely threatened. The spread of mass agriculture and livestock farming, along with large-scale infrastructure projects, has led to deforestation and water diversion. The animals and fish and people of the area are suffering as a result. That’s why I’ve joined the efforts to conserve the Ciénaga Grande, and why every person in Colombia, in the region, and in the world, should do the same. Hope for a healthier tomorrow The addition of the Ciénaga Grande to the Montreux Record fills me with hope. Although it’s shameful such an important ecosystem is in such bad shape, having the government recognize that fact and ask for help is an important advance. Thanks to all the caring activists who’ve joined the cause, my colleagues and I are inspired to do everything we can to ensure that the Ciénaga Grande recovers its vitality. We expect the government will do the same. After all, what would Colombia, Latin America, and the world be without the yellow butterflies of Macondo, and without the magic of nature to envelope us and gives us life?
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