Off Panama’s Caribbean coast lies the tiny island of Gardí Sugdub, one of the 50 islands home to the Indigenous Guna people for over 300 years. Now, due to climate change-driven rising sea levels, that home is in severe danger. In recent years, the tiny 1200-foot-long and 450-foot-wide island has experienced severe flooding that has destabilized everyday activities for the community. The ocean is central to the Guna people’s way of life and supports the island's main income streams: fishing and tourism. These have been significantly affected by worsening tidal floods, storms, and strong winds.
Florida's Climate Crisis: "The Water's Coming and We Can't Stop It."
The Florida Keys sit at the frontlines of the climate crisis, where porous limestone meets rising seas. Plans to elevate the height of the roads and save homes won’t save everyone. Near Miami, last week’s tragic building collapse has some wondering whether climate change played a role? There, too, buildings sit on sinking limestone amidst rising seas. About a decade ago, gentrification also changed the Keys landscape, and now, like Miami’s Little Haiti neighborhood, climate gentrification has as well.
Hit by COVID and Climate Change, Island States Battle Debt Crisis
In a system of unequal power, the climate crisis has the capacity to exacerbate existing vulnerabilities.
This Monday, ahead of the UN General Assembly, the Alliance of Small Island States (AOSIS) called on donor governments and development banks to help them avert a looming crisis through debt relief and climate finance for 44 small island and low-lying coastal developing states.
Lois Young, Belize’s Permanent Representative to the UN and chair of the AOSIS, said “SIDS (small island developing states) are sinking, and it’s not due to just the sea level rise and climate change. We are actually sinking in debt.”
She added these nations were already burdened by unsustainably high debt, prior to the COVID-19 crisis, which has now made things worse.
The alliance released a statement indicating many of its members’ economies, heavily reliant on tourism, were in a “freefall,” which could reverse development “by decades” and bring on a “protracted debt crisis.”
A Caribbean economist who advises governments and central banks in the region, said the reasons for the debt varied but do include the costly impacts of natural disasters increasingly hitting island states.
Many island states in the Caribbean, the Pacific and beyond do not qualify for the debt suspension programs catered to nations during the COVID-19 pandemic because they are considered middle-income countries.
They argue islands should get similar help since they face growing threats extreme weather brings, and face the additional burden of adaptation.
The climate envoy for the Marshall Islands, Tina Eonemto Stege, said global warming was already causing "loss and damage", with schools and hospitals having to close due to weather, rising seas and salt water intrusion.
"We refuse to be swept away by the tide," she said. "We know what we all need to do to prevent this crisis."
Stege called on governments, especially carbon-emitting nations, to deliver on Paris Agreement promises, including the pledge of $100 billion a year from 2020 for development, which she called a “minimum”, but yet to be delivered.
She called for “creative measures” for SIDS and a “comprehensive plan” that looks deeply at the vulnerabilities of small island developing states. (Reuters)
A Note About debt Relief
Debt relief has been offered by the IMF during the COVID-19 crisis for certain countries.
Civil society waged a strong debt relief campaign in the early 2000’s for low income countries, many of whom were also battling national AIDS crises, notably due to the onerous terms and negative development impacts of the structural adjustment programs that accompanied many loans.
Now some of those same civil society organizations are calling for debt relief when climate disasters strike as well.
Micronesia ‘Climate Refugees’ Increasingly Relocate to Oregon
Those following climate change news might already know that the 600 islands comprising the Federated States of Micronesia are waging a battle with climate change: mainly rising sea levels. What many may not know is that, outside of Hawaii, Portland is one of the most popular places for Micronesians to relocate in the United States. Whether it be in search of better prospects, reconnections, a changing environment at home or other, many of these new Portland residents worry about the seas overtaking their ancestral homes.
No one seems to know for sure where the connection to Oregon began, but some Micronesians believe, as is usual, a small group of elders who attended Eastern Oregon University might be the diaspora connection.
Now in beautiful testimonials, these Micronesians in Portland speak wistfully of a life once spent on beautiful Pacific Ocean islands and how many, not unlike refugees we have formally resettled all over the world, struggle to maintain their cultural heritage in their newfound homes.
Dexter Moluputo, who grew up on the island Houk, measuring just over one square mile, says life was spent fishing and growing crops, just as his ancestors had for centuries. He says “over there you don’t work for money. Just to eat.”
Now thousands of miles away in a climate and culture vastly different from his home, he thinks longingly of foods found only at home and the precarious plight of his homeland, which could soon become uninhabitable, not only because of rising seas, but because stronger typhoons have spread salt all over the island, rendering crop cultivation almost impossible.
Berely Mack from the Micronesian island of Kapingamarangi says he returned to his home island three years ago in shock, dismay and the undeniable proof of the impacts of climate change when he experienced the water levels at higher ground.
These Pacific Islanders worry for their homelands, worry for their generational lost heritage and the steady sense of disorientation that has come with the loss of living by and off the ocean in this enforced need to transplant roots. But many are forging ahead, bringing their food, culture and way of life with them to their new homes, while worries for their ancestral homes rise, just like its seas. (Portland Tribune)
Note:
Although the media and this journalist uses the term ‘climate refugee’, as do we but for different reasons, including to provoke a conversation along lines of protection, justice and equality - see “The Problem” - these Micronesians are not ‘refugees’ in a legal sense since climate change or environmental degradation is not a protected refugee ground in international law. Regardless of terminology though, this article more than demonstrates what is at stake, and beyond forced displacement, as with all displaced people, including refugees, what is lost when one is forced into a life of exile from one’s homeland.
Climate Change Would Cause 14 Cuban Settlements to Disappear by 2050
A study conducted by Cuban scientists has found rising sea levels in Cuba could displace as many as 41,300 people over the next 30 years. The scientists studied data collected from Cuba’s meteorological coastal stations and the database on tropical cyclones of the US National Hurricane Center, among others, calculating how far the sea would advance in the event of flooding caused by strong winds in four coastal settlements: Punta Alegre, Playa La Herradura, Gibara and Baracoa.
Lying right in the path of Caribbean hurricanes with hundreds of kilometers of low-lying coastal populations, Cuba regards itself at greater risk to climate change. After Hurricane Irma devastated parts of Cuba in 2018, Cuba found renewed commitment to implement a long-discussed 100-year plan known as Tarea Vida or project life to protect itself from climate change but a lack of investment in the plan is then showed how little progress had been made.
The project is designed with the intent to increase the resilience of vulnerable communities and bans construction of new homes in threatened coastal areas, relocates populations deemed to be living in risky sea-level rise areas, plans to overhaul the agricultural system away from saltwater-contaminated areas, shore up coastal defenses and restore degraded habitats.
After Hurricane Irma, 40 families in Palmarito - the first population relocations inland - took place in October 2017. While other communities may not need to be moved for some time to come, after Irma, Cuba embarked on a coastal community education campaign on climate change, which many having lived through, understood firsthand. (On Cuba News & Science Mag)