Ecotourism(生态旅游): A Different Way to Travel

    Are you attracted to obscure(偏远的)places? Do you prefer to vacation away from other tourists? Are you careful to take only memories and to leave only footprints? If you answered yes to more than one of these questions, you just might be an ecotourist.

    Ecotourists are people who want to experience the unspoiled natural world and leave it that way when they return home. This trend started in the 1990s and ecotourism is now growing three times faster than the tourism industry at large. The Ecuador's remote Amazon Basin(盆地) is contributing to that expansion, and it gives a snapshot of what ecotourism looks like.

    At the Ecolodge, a small group of cabins(小屋) sits Kapawi Ecolodge in the middle of the Achuar people's reserve(保护区) and is only reached by air. From here, visitors can explore parts of the Amazon rainforest seen by few outsiders. As they do local Achuar guides explain how the forest is like their supermarket, where they find food, clothing, medicine and tools. As a result, tourists learn to appreciate the local culture as well as the natural environment.

    The owners of Kapawi pay monthly rent to the Achuar people, but they also train the community to run and manage the lodge. They have agreed on a plan to turn the operation over to the Achuar completely by 2011.The owners are working to make ecotourism benefit and empower the local people.

    You probably won't start your own ecolodge, but you can be an ecotourist if you follow these guidelines: Protect the environment; Support local businesses; Respect the local customs and traditions.

    The world is full of fascinating places to visit. As an ecotourist, you can enjoy them yourself and make sure that they remain beautiful for future generations as well.

    Not long ago, I tried convincing my three daughters that the world's secrets are hidden inside silence. The girls looked at me skeptically. Surely silence is nothing?

    Sitting there at the dinner table, I suddenly remembered their curiosity as children, their wondering about what might be hiding behind a door and their amazement as they stared at a light switch and asked me to “open the light”. But now they are 13, 16 and 19 and wonder less and less. If they still wonder at anything, they quickly pull out their smart phones to find the answer. None of them have any interest in discussing with me. To attract their attention, I told them about two friends of mine who had decided to climb Mount Qomolangma.

    Early one morning they left base camp to climb the south-west wall of the mountain. It was going well. Both reached the summit, but then came the storm. They soon realized they would not make it down alive. The first got hold of his pregnant wife by satellite phone. Together they decided on the name of the child that she was carrying. Then he quietly passed away just below the summit. My other friend was not able to contact anyone before he died. No one knows exactly what happened on the mountain in those hours. Thanks to the dry, cool climate 8km above sea level, they have both been freeze-dried. They lie there in silence, looking no different.

    The girls remained quiet, listening. It seemed as though they had got something.

    It is easy to assume that the essence (本质) of technology is technology itself, but that is wrong. The essence is the time we spend with our family and how much freedom we have by technology.

    One of my neighbors used to have a beautiful tree in her front yard. Her dad had planted it for her when it was nothing more than a twig(树枝) and several years later it started to shoot towards the sky with amazing speed. Soon it blessed her with cooling shade in the summer and glorious, golden leaves in the fall.

    When the two-day snowstorm struck our town, heavy snow fell on the tree's branches that were still full of leaves. The weight split that lovely tree down the middle. It was so sad seeing half of it laying on the ground after the storm. When I talked to my neighbor later, she said that the damage had been too much and that the entire tree would have to be cut down. Thankfully she had saved a few saplings(树苗) from it that she hoped to replant in the future.

    Still, it was a shock to drive by her house the other day and see nothing but a stump in her front yard. I missed that tree. I missed its beauty, its leaves shinning in the afternoon sun. I missed seeing its limbs reach towards the heavens. I thought that the stump would be a sad reminder of its loss for a long time to come. My wonderful neighbor, though, had another plan. When I drove by her home today I saw a tiny bird feeder sitting on that stump and a colorful songbird having its dinner. It was such an affirmation of life. It was such a joy to see. I could feel my heart smile.

    Life by its very nature is a mixed bag. It hands us beauty and tragedy, love and loss, pleasure and pain. What we do with it, however, is up to us. We can let it split us in two, or we can use even its hardest times to make our souls stronger and our hearts more loving. We can spend it complaining or we can use it to help others.

    It was the men's skating finals of the Winter Olympics when I was 16. Someday I'd be in the Olympics. In fact, it was my dream.

    That night I lay on our living room floor excitedly watching the battle between the Brians: American Brian Boitano facing Brian Orser in Canada. Both of them had been world champions. Both of them deserved to win. Naturally I was for Brian Boitano, a northern Californian like me. We had skated on the same ice. I held my breath in amazement. Boitano performed successfully. The gold medal! I jumped in the air when his score went up.

    But what happened next is what I'll never forget. Brian Boitano sat in front of the camera with his coach, surrounded by a group of journalist. He was talking about his career and his medal, talking to the whole world. A terrible sinking feeling went through me. I could never be in the Olympics, I thought…I could not talk in public like that. Just the idea of a press conference terrified me.

    I loved skating partly because I didn't have to talk. I could express myself with my jump sand dances better. I didn't have to stand up and give a speech like some teachers expected. I could feel the blood rush to my face if I thought a teacher was going to call me. I stared at my shoes. I was sure I'd make a fool of myself.

    The next day I was at the rink (溜冰场) as usual. I was practising a combination of jumps that had once seemed impossible. I worked very hard the next few years—on the ice and especially off. After journalists talked to me and although my heart pounded every time I spoke to them, I got to know them. They became familiar faces. And they got to know me. So when my big moment came four years after Brian's, I was ready.

    Sometimes I think my biggest accomplishment was not winning the gold but talking to the press afterwards. When you do the thing you fear most, you put an end to fear.

    Fear can stop you dead in your tracks. Fear can kill a dream. What are you afraid of? What scares you more than anything else? This year, walk right up to it and conquer it, step by step.

    Paul and Jason were brothers who lived and worked on neighboring farms. For 35 years they farmed side by side, sharing machinery and goods as needed, without a single problem.

    However, one autumn, things changed. It began with a tiny disagreement about a horse, which grew into a major difference. The difference led to angry words, followed by weeks of silence between the two brothers.

One morning there was a knock on Paul's door. He opened it and saw a builder holding his toolbox. "I'm looking for a few days' work." the builder said. "Are there any jobs here I could help with?"

"Yes," answered Paul, extremely pleased to see the builder. "I do have a job for you. Look at that farm across the creek(小溪).That's my brother's farm. That creek used to be a grass field, but last week my brother dug a path from the river and made the creek. But I'll go him one better. See that pile of wood? I want you to build me a fence, two meters tall, so 1 won't need to see him anymore."

The builder said thoughtfully. "I think I understand the situation and I'll be able to do a job that pleases you."

    Paul had business in town that day and left the builder to his work. When he returned, the builder had just finished his job. Paul was shocked. Instead of a fence there was a bridge, stretching from one side of the creek to the other.

As Paul stood on the bridge, staring in amazement, his younger brother Jason, came across, and took Paul's hand. "You are a good man to have built this bridge after all I've done," said Jason.

Then, Paul, with tears in his eyes, said to the builder who was packing his bag to go, "Thank you so much. Please stay. I have much more for you to do."

"I'd love to." the builder said quietly, "but, I have many more bridges to build."

    83-year-old Antonio Vicente has spent the last four decades of his life fighting against the current. As Brazilian landowners cut down rainforests to make room for profitable (盈利的) plantations and cattle grazing grounds, he struggled to bring the thick jungles of his childhood back to life.

    In 1973 Antonio took up the challenge of restoring the forest on a 31-hectare piece of land that had been destroyed for cattle grazing. Ironically enough, he bought the land in Brazil's Sao Paulo region, using credits（贷款）that the military government was giving out to promote deforestation(砍伐森林) and agricultural technology. But Antonio didn't use the money to promote the national agriculture but wanted to revive the forest.

    "You are stupid. Planting trees is a waste of land. You won't have income. If it's full of trees, you won't have room for cows or crops," Antonio's neighbors told him. But he knew the damage caused by deforestation was far greater than financial profit. Antonio had grown up on a rural farm, and watched his father and the other villagers cut down forests at the owners' orders, either for charcoal production or to clear land for grazing cattle. He had watched the ancient water sources dry up and people struggling to survive.

    With only some donkeys and a few hired workers Antonio brought back the forest to his land. What started out as a weekend hobby soon became a permanent way of life. Antonio often recalls spending days and nights in his young jungle, surrounded by rats and foxes, and eating banana for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

    As the forest grew, the water returned, and Antonio says that there are now over 20 water sources on his land that were no longer there when he bought it. Then the animals started making a home there. Today, the forest is alive with sounds of birds and insects living there, and more species are settling in every year.