Another Year in the Books

That's a wrap. So long 2018. One of my favourite traditions on New Years is to read over the past year's blog posts. Now, in the last few years, there has been a lot less to read than during My Munchable's early years (say, 2009-2013). But despite the confusing speed with which 2018 flew by, there was a lot of substance to cover.

It wasn't the most uplifting of years, between all the political, social, and natural disasters. An early post from last year discussed the significance of rain under climate change. Then mid-way through 2018, the best scientific minds gave the world a demoralising climate change update (so I wrote down some food for thought). Even followed adhoc, the climate-related news from the last year was pretty overwhelming. Cobbling together these developments in tweet form, we see hurricanes and fires (again), political inaction and youth protesters, and some pretty dire projections. Unfortunately, all that bearing of bad news hasn't resulted in the kick-in-the-pants we seem to need.

If climate change hasn't gotten you down enough, some of the violence and social injustices might. Border walls and mass shootings made headlines with regularity. My first post of 2018 discussed indigenous rights and conservation in Australia, and I published the first chapter of my PhD looking at social justice in conservation. This was the seventh year I've Lived Below the Line, and so did some reflecting as usual, including on how we define what is poor. There is obviously a long way still to go for a socially equitable world...

... but, at least there is baking to set things right in the meantime..

For my part, there was lots of (too much ... 4.5 months away) travel. Two trips to Indonesia for my PhD project sparked some musings on the benefits of travel, trials and tribulations of interviews in research , and unsurprisingly chocolate! More recently, the annual visit home involved "slow travel" with a Grand Tour of the USA by rail.

Now, 2018 was by no stretch of the imagination one of the more notable years. Like any year, there were ups and downs (though there seemed to be more downs). I'm hoping that 2019 will sit a little higher up on the roller coaster!

Read Years Passed

The Sun Sets on 2017

The Best of Times, The Worst of Times - 2016

Another Decade, Another Degree - 2015

One Hodge-Podge of a Year - 2014

New Year's Resolution - 2013

A Year in Food - 2012

New Year, Empty Fridge - 2011

A New Year's Resolution - 2010

It's a New Year! - 2009

The Best of Times, The Worst of Times

I think all of us can agree that 2016 had a bit of a rough run. It was politically charged; it was tragic and sorrowful; it was also beautiful in many ways; and I hope it will open the door to some much needed healing in the year to come. Holding with tradition for the eighth year running, I put together a bit of a recap of the past year seen through the eyes of My Munchable Musings.

This year seemed particularly replete with environmental and social grievances, as if the Anthropocene - the age of Homo sapiens - had finally come into its own. Despite international efforts to overcome poverty and injustice, we are still battling inequalities reminiscent of bygone eras. This was my fifth year Living Below the Line, contemplating the trade-offs the food insecure face in terms of costs, calories, and nutrition. Perhaps a product of my own news filters - thanks selection bias and algorithms for reinforcing our bubbles - but there also seemed to be considerable coverage of human-induced environmental problems and social justice issues. Imminent climate change catastrophes made late headlines, victims of environmental exploitation made small waves, and the world watched rather silently (or preoccupied) loss of human rights and dignity. Thanks Twitter for making the world's atrocities so much more accessible (and Storify for allowing me to rehash it all).

Going back through my actual blog posts from the year, however, there seemed to be much more to celebrate. In true Munchable fashion, we took a bit of a tour through through the beauty of biodiversity and food, at the intersection where art and agriculture collide. About halfway through the year, a challenge to compile a week of photos depicting beauty in nature made its way around the interwebs. A lunchtime conversation spurred a post on the amazing tuber diversity. And of course I could not go a full year without pontificating on the joys inherent in the art of bread-baking. These may seem like small potatoes, but to me they seem more like beacons of hope amidst stormy weather.

  

Finally, this year saw many developments here at command central. At the end of January, I left the damp of England after 2.5 years and moved to Australia in order to continue the over-education process. On the two month journey between the two Commonwealth countries, I made a second transcontinental rail trip to see immediate family in the US, followed by a first foray into Southeast Asia (including some history lessons and another train trip). Starting the PhD has helped me finally come to terms with my identity NOT as an ecologist, but as intentionally straddling disciplines (good luck with that...).

Mid-way through the year, I did some stock-taking as a 30th birthday exercise. Almost as a physical reminder of this aging, I proceeded to tear my ACL and menisci (...lesson to all that gymnastics takes hours of training, particularly when you are no longer 17). To ensure the year ended on a high note, I scheduled in my first surgery and overnight stay at a hospital the week before Christmas. I suppose out of necessity, the new year will be one of recovery, and not just for me, but hopefully more broadly from all the cruelty, divisiveness, and hatred that has taken place recently. Here's to a more enlightened 2017.

Read Years Passed

Another Decade, Another Degree - 2015

One Hodge-Podge of a Year - 2014

New Year's Resolution - 2013

A Year in Food - 2012

New Year, Empty Fridge - 2011

A New Year's Resolution - 2010

It's a New Year! - 2009

Tea Time and Trains

Those of you who read this blog know I have a thing for trains. When confronted with the option of flying, busing, driving, or traveling via rail, I most often choose the latter. I don't mind long train trips, either. In fact, I began writing this post from one leg of a trip from London to Amsterdam (five odd hours) before my computer battery died, but you may also recall the post I wrote on a cross-country trip from Washington, DC to Seattle. Trains are hailed as a less carbon-intensive way to get from point A to point B, compared to flying, and enable reasonable mobility for those of us who cringe at the thought of sitting behind a steering wheel. On the other hand, trains are not cheap and thus maintain a bit of an elitist reputation. And as I discovered during a recent literary indulgence, the history of railways is shrouded in a fine mist of colonialism, corruption, and changing landscapes. Among other things, the creation and spread of railways across the world facilitated the transport of agricultural products, changed diets, and hurried us along a path of a globalized food system that is conspicuous today.

This brings me to tea, which is quite an oddity. Stereotypically (and yet truly) central to the daily lives of Brits, this brewed beverage of steeped, smoked leaves hails only from tropical climes, and serves as a constant reminder of a colonial past. Like the trade of spices, which drove tensions and tiffs between European powers as they clamoured to control the supply and sale of these goods from the Far East, the tea industry prompted considerable investment and infrastructural development, still evident in today's largest producing countries. According to this book I alluded to earlier, in many territories of the empire, rail lines were built during the mid and late 19th century for the primary purpose of transporting commodities (often agricultural or mineral) to ports for shipment overseas. The Darjeeling Himalayan Railway is an example of this, built originally to move rice and to enable a viable trade in tea, it is now relegated to the realm of touristic attraction. Similar phenomena occurred in East Africa, particularly Kenya, in the early 20th century.

On the one hand, these railroads spurred economic growth, broadened access to transit, and facilitated an entrenched tea culture. Yet it is also interesting the consider that the mode of 'green' transportation was one of the initial enablers of large-scale landscape change and habitat loss. While it's hard to get a sense of the extent of change historically, there is documentation of contemporary forest incursion from tea plantation expansion in countries like Uganda, India, and Kenya. Well, it's something to mull over with a nice cup of tea!