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To the northwest of Guam in the southern part
of eastern Siberia in Russia is one of the natural wonders
of the world, Lake
Baykal: 400 miles
long, 35 miles wide, one mile deep, and contains 20 percent
of the earth's fresh water. As the crow flies, we are closer
to it than we are to the State of Hawaii in our own Pacific
Ocean.
In 1986, I was a member of a U. S.
Congressional Delegation on a fact-finding trip to the
Soviet Union. As part of our official itinerary, we were
taken on a trip to the Lake by the Soviets who took great
pride in their premier environmental showpiece. To minimize
pollution on the Lake, we crossed it on a hydroplane. Upon
reaching the middle of the Lake, the captain leaned over the
side and filled a pitcher with water, which one of the
interpreters referred to as, designer water from the
heavens. The head of the U. S. Delegation, Congressman
Mo Udall was served
the first drink.
It was a very impressive demonstration and
everyone was excited over the fact that the water in the
largest lake in the world was safe enough to drink even
though it was being fed by about 325 rivers and tributaries.
Drinking fresh water directly from its natural source was a
new experience for virtually everyone in the delegation.
Watching them joyfully drinking the water reminded me of the
days when we drank water right out of Lonfit
River in Ordot
Village in Guam when I was a youngster.
Water, water, water. Indeed, the heavens know
we get lots
and lots of it.
Probing the jungle in south central Guam, we followed the
streams and rivers that feed one of the major reservoirs on
Guam. It was truly an uplifting experience seeing Guam's
natural beauty, reminiscent of the way it was throughout
most of our island not so many years ago.
As we were making our way out of the jungle, we
ran into areas that indicated that they were settlements
there at one time. The intoxicatingly fragrant blossoms of the ilang-ilang tree drew our attention to one
particular site where we saw something strange, a tall
coconut tree covered with ivy, as reported by a member of
our group. But the parasite plant was not ivy, it was
pupulu, the leaf that is chewed along with
the betel
nut, which we call
pugua in Chamorro. Now, how was I able to
identify pupulu from other leaves that look like it in the
jungle? Because as a youngster, one of my additional duties
was to gather pupulu and pugua for my elders to chew. I
would dare say that being able to identify the good variety
of these two plants was my first notable area of
expertise!
We emerged from the jungle and found our way to
this magnificent reservoir at the Naval Reservation at Fena.
This is a source of millions of gallons of water that run
through our pipelines every single day. When the Fena
Reservoir was constructed by the U. S. Navy about forty-five
years ago, it was an engineering marvel then. It is an
engineering marvel today and the Navy has kept the falls and
the rivers which provide the water in pristine condition. A variety of fish species now
populate the reservoir and limited fishing is
permitted.
When the Naval Reservation was established,
chain-link
fences were
installed to provide tight security for bullets, very small
and very large, held in storage to serve the needs of the
Department of Defense in our half of the globe. But these
fences and the patrols on the perimeter did a lot more than
guard ammunition to meet periodic needs in time of war. Of
more immediate significance to us who live on Guam is that
these fences protect the reservoir, the source of much of the water
that we consume daily, in time of war and peace.
When the fences were built, they inadvertently
sheltered another natural resource on Guam, the beloved
carabao, without
whose enormous strength pulling plows and carts for us
during the occupation would have made life more miserable
than it was. Although these marvelous animals have been
living unimpeded in virtually a natural habitat for decades,
they have remained non-hostile but very protective of their
calves which they surround when anyone gets
near them.
During the waning days of the Japanese
occupation, we released our livestock when we, the native Chamorros, were
herded to the concentration camps. Apparently, the stray
carabaos joined with those from other farms and pastures and
became the nucleus of the herd as it is today. Over the
years, the herd has been a source of young calves for zoos
in the U. S. and, on occasion, for local farmers who still
use them as work animals. Today, it is estimated that about
350 of these beautiful animals graze around the compound and
keep the grass short but they also leave behind huge
deposits of natural fertilizer to complete the cycle. Mother
nature at her finest again!
The continuing challenge for all of us on Guam
with respect to the water needs of a burgeoning population
and flourishing economy is to minimize water shortages
through waste after the water leaves the reservoirs, especially during the dry season.
While the Ancient Mariner was referring to sea water in that
rhyme we had to learn in High School, one verse is
particularly fitting as a precaution: Water,water, everywhere and all the boards did
shrink. Water, water, everywhere but not a drop to
drink..
And, finally, speaking of drinking water, there
is still an abundance
of water in our
bountiful island pure enough to drink as it flows from its
source. Besides, it tastes so much better than the water in
Lake Baykal in the Russian Siberia.
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