East Oregonian : E.O. (Pendleton, OR) 1888-current, June 26, 2021, WEEKEND EDITION, Page 5, Image 5

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Saturday, June 26, 2021
East Oregonian
A5
Saba-Saba and the Fourth of July
ANDREW
CLARK
A SLICE OF LIFE
T
he week after next we will celebrate
our Independence Day.
In 1982, I was working in Singida,
Tanzania, directing a development project. In
a conversation about politics with a local man
he talked about Saba-Saba, the day Tanza-
nias celebrate independence, and the great
importance it has for them. He also asked
what we as Americans did to celebrate our
political holidays, especially our Indepen-
dence Day?
That began a train of thought for me.
What indeed do we do? Eat hot dogs, maybe?
Drink beer? Watch fireworks? Perhaps have
a party to do all three and play some softball,
too? Very little, generally, to really celebrate
the political freedom that for us is so far back
in our history that we feel little immediacy
— as opposed to Tanzanians who, because
the gaining of independence is within their
lifetimes, feel a great deal of involvement.
At that point I was the senior American
of the area (42 years old) so I decided that
we, the American community of the Singida
area, would host a right and proper celebra-
tion of our Independence Day, and to that end
we set about planning the event. The Amer-
ican population of the area was Barbara,
my wife, our five kids, me, six Peace Corps
volunteers who worked on the project I was
directing, and several Lutheran missionar-
ies. We wrote to the U.S. Embassy in Dar
es Salaam outlining our plan and they did
us proud. An American flag was sent and
shortly before the event some dry ice-frozen
hot dogs arrived — actual true American
tribal-food hotdogs. What a smash.
We intended to demonstrate our true
nationalism with a tribal parade, a tribal
picnic with tribal foods, tribal games and
then a tribal oratory. We invited a lot of
Tanzanians and all the foreigners working
in the area. Eighteen different nationalities
attended.
The parade began. Having no electricity,
I rigged a car stereo system with its attendant
battery in a wheelbarrow so we could parade
behind Old Glory to the tribal imperatives
of John Philip Sousa’s “Stars and Stripes
Forever.” It was a wonderful parade, winding
through where we lived with our flag flying
in front.
All 18 nationalities marched, including
four physicians from the People’s Republic
of China who were working at the hospital in
town — and imagine at that time in history
the irony of Red Chinese parading behind the
American flag.
The tribal games began. For Americans
it was pretty much standard stuff, such as
wheelbarrow and three-legged races, but for
the Africans it was an astonishing show of
nonsensicality. They had never seen white
people behaving in such ridiculous ways and
it was real jaw-dropper. After our American
tribal games, the Australians felt it necessary
to introduce one of theirs called “Fling the
Wellie.” The “wellie” is a knee-length rubber
“Wellington” boot, and the idea is to see who
can throw it furthest. It makes about as much
sense as the American tribal games.
An Australian who won who was built
like an orangutan with arms that reached
almost to the ground, and he could make that
Wellie float like a frisbee. Everyone played,
including a German girl whose understand-
ing of a “picnic” was a formal affair to which
dress clothing was worn. Formal dress
notwithstanding, the honor of Germany was
at stake and she felt compelled to compete.
So she hitched up the skirt of her pretty white
dress to mid-thigh level and flung the wellie.
It was a great event.
The picnic lunch was served. Hot dogs,
hamburgers, potato salad, baked beans, corn
on the cob, watermelon and brownies. How
much more American can you get? There
was lots of fun mixing and talking about the
peculiar food that was being served.
The political part of the celebration began
— the true foundation of our disparate
mongrel American tribal identity. The orator
stood on an upside-down wooden soap box.
Everyone sat on the ground facing the box for
the program.
First a history of how the Declaration of
Independence came about and the people
who wrote it, presented by a Peace Corps
volunteer who had a degree in history. He
explained the background of the people
involved — how the writers came from vary-
ing modes of life, their Age of Enlightenment
thinking, the political imperatives of the time
and the formulation of the document.
For the second piece of program, I stood
on the soap box and read the entire Declara-
tion of Independence, beginning to end, in
what I attempted to make a clear, slow and
respectful cadence. I have never experienced
a more attentive and focused group of people
— 80 individuals sitting on the ground,
paying rapt attention to the entire document.
A pin dropping in the sand could have been
heard.
After the presentations the party was over
and people said their goodbyes and thanks.
In total it was a terrific event. It felt good to
everyone involved. People went home having
had a fun and meaningful experience.
Very importantly, we Americans could
express our national identity in a positive
and acceptable way without any inference
of superiority or vertical relationship, and to
demonstrate that we indeed do have a lot to
celebrate on our Independence Day. Addi-
tionally, that we can make fun of ourselves
with our stupid games was both astonishing
and important, and we certainly have some
great celebratory foods.
———
Dr. Andrew Clark is a livestock veterinar-
ian with both domestic and international work
experience who lives in Pendleton.
RON
WYDEN
OTHER VIEWS
Prescribed
fires help
take heat off
I
t was 102 degrees in Medford on June
1, 2021. Let me say that again just in
case it didn’t fully sink in — Medford
suffered temperatures as high as 102 degrees
in spring, making it harder for firefighters
battling Southern Oregon’s first fires of the
year.
Now, I usually like Oregon to be in the
record-setting business, but not for hot,
dry weather in April and May. Having a
100-degree day while still in springtime
should ring alarm bells for Oregonians
everywhere.
It was not so long ago that Oregon’s fire
season was only a few weeks in August and
September. The events of Memorial Day
weekend only serve as a reminder that the
human-caused climate crisis has increased
the frequency of fires that threaten lives,
businesses and entire communities.
Over the past week, I met with forest
managers and first responders in Southern
Oregon, Central Oregon and the Willamette
Valley to hear their forecasts for the 2021 fire
year.
The bottom line is it’s long past time for
nickel-and-dime solutions to billion-dol-
lar problems caused by wildfire, such as
smoke-related health issues, damage to local
economies and life-and-death threats to
Oregonians.
Our state has a backlog of roughly 2.5
million acres of federal land in dire need of
wildfire prevention. And Oregonians don’t
want 2.5 million excuses about why there
aren’t more forest health improvements and
prescribed fire treatments completed on
these 2.5 million acres.
They just want these fire risks reduced as
soon as possible.
The science is clear: Controlled burns
clear out dead trees and vegetation as well as
break down and return nutrients to the soil,
creating healthier and more resilient forests.
Prescribed burns or fuel reduction treat-
ments can head off wildfires before they have
the chance to burn out of control, devastating
lives and livelihoods.
I saw this firsthand in Sisters, where a
prescribed burn near the Whychus Creek
provided key support in suppressing the 2017
Milli fire before it could overtake Sisters.
To that end, I recently introduced legis-
lation to increase the pace and scale of
prescribed fires. The National Prescribed
Fire Act has the support of conservation
groups as well as leading timber indus-
try voices because its passage would mean
healthier forests for timber harvest, forest
ecosystems and outdoor recreation alike.
It’s going to take all hands on deck to
prevent wildfire in the coming dry seasons,
so that’s why I have introduced bills to
harden our power grid by burying power
lines, generate thousands of good-paying
jobs for young people reducing fire-causing
fuels in the woods and meet emissions goals
by investing in the clean energy sector.
Smart, science-based forestry policy is
smart climate policy. If we treat hazardous,
fire-starting fuels now in the cooler, wetter
months, we can prevent future fires before
they have a chance to spark.
———
Ron Wyden, a Democrat, represents
Oregon in the U.S. Senate.
Coping with inevitable changes
TYRO
WOLFE
UNDERSTANDING OUR
CHANGING CLIMATE
C
limate change is an inevitable
self-inflicted extinction event.
When I think about a future where
we head into further climate change, never
diverting our course, I think of one where
there are less humans, and the rest of life
on earth has either adapted, or fallen off
to the wayside. Honestly, I find it almost
romantic. But, it isn’t romantic and it isn’t
inevitable. Yet, somewhere in my upbring-
ing, I accepted it as both of those things.
In spite of the feeling of a looming
unstoppable apocalypse, you’ll find me
doing as many little things as I can to help.
As l brush my teeth, I think about turn-
ing the water off in between rinses. I think
about shortening my showers, walking
more and relying on local agriculture. I
act on many, if not all, of these thoughts,
believing my acting actually will do
something.
I spend much of my free time brain-
storming solutions, specifically around the
topic of sustainable agriculture. However,
I feel powerless to enact any of my ideas.
I am left without a way to prove myself so
that others will listen. I often wonder how
many people are as secretly passionate as
I am about the topic? How many others
have new ideas and solutions but no voice?
If you gave me a voice, or the ability
to enact change by directly speaking to
leaders, I’d have no idea what to say. Not
because I am without words but because
I feel like everything I want to say would
be absolutely pointless. Politicians and
corporations don’t care what some Gen Z
in rural Oregon has to say. I haven’t any
money to back up my words, and I have
no power. I’m not talking to world lead-
ers though, I am talking to you. I feel like
maybe it will matter more if everyday
regular people talk to other everyday regu-
lar people, and make change within, where
we are, however we can.
I encourage each person to take control
of their resources. Gather your own water,
grow your own garden. You can make a
difference, whether you grow your favorite
salad green in a pot on your porch, or you
till up your quarter-acre plot to plant corn
and squash. Make change within your
own personal system. Make your needs
as local, and in your control, as possible.
Rely on something other than the system
that orchestrates its own disaster. Take
power back in the little ways you can, in
everyday things, and strive for localized
self-sufficiency.
Most importantly, try doing things in
new ways, research and learn, and expand
your horizons. Maybe you’ve always
tilled the back acre, but you’ve done some
reading and you looked into no-till. You
decided it’s better for you, the climate,
the soil and your bottom line if you start
the garden off this year by deep mulching
instead of tilling. That is a good example
of a change from within.
When I asked my friends what they
thought about climate change, most of
what they had to say was aimless and
confused. They were unsure about what to
even believe. Quite a few also expressed
dreams aligning to some ideal life envi-
ronmentally, but admitted it was just a
dream; because, let’s be real, how could
they even dream to afford a house, let
alone have time for a garden, composting
or space and money to make their ideas
into reality and test them?
When I think of climate change, I think
of solutions, and I desire to make a differ-
ence for my lifetime and the generations
to come. But I also feel lost, confused and
like most of it is inevitable. I feel like we
missed the boat. Most of my peers seem
to feel similarly. However, our hope lies
in many individuals making changes on
personal levels. We know the science. We
need to live it now. Maybe another boat is
coming by.
———
Tyro Wolfe, 21, was born and raised in
Pendleton with a lifelong interest in the
outdoors. She first learned about climate
change in elementary school and it hasn’t
been far from her mind since. She has been
coping with both the inevitable changes that
will happen in her lifetime, and racking her
brain for solutions she can enact.