I feel helpless when asked to describe Antarctica. It is the command centre of our world's ecosystems, yet the slightest mention of the word 'Antarctica' renders your mind to a place seemingly farther and more foreign to humankind than the moon. Only through poetry could anyone even begin to do it justice. A summary of the experience is just the tip of the ice berg, but I have a feeling might be worth it.

I saunter into my favourite cafe in La Paz, Bolivia: La Terraza - where I know I can get a salad fit for a giant that is delicious, clean and cheap. I'm relieved that no one is smoking and I take a seat in the corner, yet quickly move to a window seat, "Much better for people watching!" I joke with the couple at the neighbouring table. We begin to chat. "We’ve been coming here for 14 years," the couple explains, as they tell stories of their lovely family and their experiences throughout a decade of changes in La Paz. "Wow, that's incredible," I gush in awe. "What a place to be." They offer travel advice of beautiful Incan ruins and luscious gardens, and then, "Have you been to Chacaltaya?" they ask me. "Yes - actually! I've written about that glacier. You must have seen major changes in the last 14 years of coming here..." as my tone drops and I subconsciously shake my head a little. "Chacaltaya?" the woman asks, as if we might not be talking about the same glacier. "The glacier just nearby - it's beautiful." "When was the last time you were there?" I ask. "Must have been 12 years ago now," the woman mumbles. "Its ice and snow have melted over 80 percent in the last 20 years - there's almost nothing left of it..." I sound like a broken climate change record. "But it's the highest ski hill in the world - a stunning place where the birds fly beneath you," the woman reminisces. I continue, "...They say it will be entirely gone in the next year or two. You should go see it while you're here." The tone in my voice and the looks on their faces made me feel like I was telling them they had to go visit a dying friend before she passed away, and this was the first they 'd heard she was ill.

Countries from around the world come together annually to discuss one of the most pressing issues of our time: climate change. This year, the United Nations Climate Change Conference--where all the details of the Kyoto Protocol are hashed out--is in Nairobi, Kenya. This is my second time attending a UN climate conference, but my first time experiencing such a deep sense of frustration. From dawn to dusk each day it seems we aren't getting anywhere; when we go home at night, driving past the slums of the city and hearing stories of drought from farmers directly affected by climate change, I wonder if the connection between the hardships of developing countries and the luxuries of the industrialized countries will be made with the urgency required.

For the first time in the history of international climate negotiations, the Canadian government has removed all youth positions on the official negotiating team attending the United Nations Climate Change Conference. The Minister of the Environment officially selects this team.

It's a beautiful 20 degrees (C) here in Gigiri, a subset of the busy city of Nairobi. The United Nations is always a world of itself - and so not really reflecting the reality of what Kenya really is. Though one characteristic that rings true throughout is the genuine openness and hospitality of Kenyans. They smile more. They laugh more. They seem more relaxed. I think they even walk a little slower. To add, this year there are no official meetings allowed past 6 pm; whereas before the limit was 9 or later. It has set the stage for a - hopefully - steady and productive 2 weeks of negotiations.

May 13 2006

I have been through anxiety attacks before.  Mostly concerning a final exam worth half my mark the next day, or perhaps a solo violin performance, or maybe meeting a child-hood idol.  But I have never experienced anxiety when booking travel - until yesterday.

Here I am booking travel with a group to a conference on sustainable solutions and all 15 other members from my region decided to hop on a plane.  I am shocked, but then I start thinking about our ability to carbon offset and think of all the times I have flown before, and start to think that it's really not a big deal if I fly again this time.  

Then the voice in the back of my head starts yelling at me and telling me I am a hypocrite for working to slow climate change while flying to a conference on sustainable solutions when I could be part of a sustainable solution by taking the train instead.  Long story short, I decide to take the total of 44 hours on a train and miss two days of classes in order to attend what I hope to be a very educational experience. Why did I feel this way? Millions of people fly every single day. Do I think I am actually going to make a difference by not filling that one seat on the sale-flight on Air Canada that is going to take-off with or without me?

Climate change knows no boundaries. Nor should its solutions. Climate change is affecting people around the world, and so the world (and especially youth) must unite to address this issue. Do we do this through Kyoto? Do we tackle it through our federal governments? Are we more effective as an international movement? Or, closer to home, as a Canada-US movement? How about a strictly national movement?

Some movements move quickly, like the Canada-US love affair. And the hype is already up and running within the US. And now there's also a movement stirring in Canada. It might be a little late, and it might seem a little scattered, but it's starting to come alive.

[Read full article at www.itsgettinghotinhere.org/424 ]