A Worthwhile Adventure



By Nadia Kijanka

Like the journey to Isabela, setting out to dive Tortuga Islet 30 minutes off the main island proved to be tumultuous, but well worth the trouble. After having to wrap my feet in plastic bags to squeeze through the 1.5 millimeter wetsuit, clinging to my seat because we went airborne every time the boat hit a five-foot wave, shivering below the overcast sky, and power-peddling through see-saw waves that pulled me away from my group, I was skeptical the turnout of marine life would compensate for the diving conditions.

But to my delight, as soon as we descended 50 feet below the treacherous surface, I found myself swimming in the center of a vortex of fish, sea turtles, sea lions, five-foot white-tipped sharks and 10-foot hammerhead sharks. The sea felt like bathwater, thanks to the wet suit. The fish stared at me a few inches from my mask, more fascinated with me than I was with them. Sea lions shot through the water, scoping the holes in the lava reef where the smaller fish hide. The sharks dipped in and out of the murky distance, sneaking up towards us and turning away at the last terrifying minute. The current carried us alongside the slope of lava formations to our right and the vast blanket of open water to our left, stringing us through one spiraling parade of life after another.

So, I can attest that despite the risks of poor visibility, freezing depths and zigzagging currents, scuba diving the Galapagos is a must. You wouldn’t want to leave these islands knowing you might have witnessed what makes them so great—the underwater life.

People say that it’s a whole different world under the sea, but in the Galapagos the sea isn’t a world apart, it’s the world that sustains the one on land. The making and maintaining of the both the terrestrial and marine ecology truly starts under the sea. The Humboldt and the Cromwell currents, stroke the islands’ reefs, showering them with the nutrients on which the marine ecology depends. These cool, seasonal currents lure a mix of tropical to temperate fish—a diverse buffet for the leading predators of the coasts—the sea lions, sharks, and larger fish.



While swimming in the vortex, you can expect to see yellowtail surgeonfish fin to fin with gray grunts, porcupine fish next to kingfish, and needle fish with parrotfish, silvers and grays intermittently shuffled with bright yellows, reds and blues, all catching to the eye. Like the mainland animals, the marine fauna have a harmonious coexistence through symbiosis, in which several species living together mutually benefit off one another, according to dive master Maximo Cartagena of the Isabela Dive Center. During the day, the sharks peruse the shores so the remoras, or tiny fish, clean the microbes off their skin. Snails hitch rides on sea turtles’ backs. Schools of fish sway carelessly with the current, unafraid of their predators, since the sharks only hunt at night. While I was underwater, only one sea lion broke the peaceful trend, as he poked around the coral holes to snack on a few smaller fish. This natural flow of resources, starting with the currents, eventually trickles into the mainland. According to Michael H. Jackson’s "A Natural History," “Sea birds must fish, as did most of the human residents before tourism, and the marine iguanas dive to graze the algae…From the flies that feed on the sea lion carcasses to the hawk that eat marine iguanas and the owls that take storm petrels, the webs of life on land and in the sea are inextricably intertwined.”

Adding people to this delicate equilibrium is a challenge that requires a collective effort on behalf of the five sectors operating in the Galapagos. On Isabella, the Institutional Authority of Management facilitates the fishing, tour guide, tourism, scientific research and parks industries to reach balanced and fair conclusions when conflicts of interest arise. According to Francisco Ortuño, a member of Isabela’s fishing cooperative, any representative can request to convene and discuss an issue, and they must reach a unanimous decision. Ortuño stressed the importance of consensus.“The five must become one,” he said, referring to how all sectors must work together for the good of everyone.

It is not easy to make a switch from one career to the next, either. “Professions are not just something you can jump into,” Ortuño said. To be a fisherman, for example, you must be a permanent resident of the Galapagos Islands and have a father who was in the industry as well. After 10 years of being a fisherman, Cartagena successfully transitioned to being a dive master, thanks to international and government supported programs. Even with those, the change was tough. “Out of a class of 15, maybe four will continue on to practice the occupation,” Cartagena said. According to him, while tourism on land has been going for eight years in Isabela, scuba diving and snorkeling are relatively new, only about 4 years old.

Since the sea has become a hot spot for tourists and fishermen, the government has enacted regulations and zoning laws to sustain both the marine biodiversity and the fishing industry. Regulations specify which areas around islets like Tortuga are for water sports and which are for fishing. According to Daniel Rivas, agricultural engineer with the Charles Darwin Foundation, a private conservation organization, fishing is only legal 40 miles off the coast of the Galapagos, and certain marine animals are illegal to carry back into port.

The marine ecology has a huge bearing on the past and future of the Galapagos Islands. It is both the starting point for the life of the islands and sometimes the stronghold that bears the majority of their decline. As development and tourism grows on the islands, efforts are being pooled together to maintain the marine ecology and the underwater experience for people. I agree with Jackson when he says, “What little we can see of life in the sea is so different from our experiences on shore and so beautiful that we cannot fail to be enchanted yet again.” Every dive is worth the try.

Additional reporting by Nellie Gopaul

The Day of the Child

Horns beep and drums beat as the throng of children, parents and teachers parade through the streets. Some children are carrying homemade signs, others are waving, and almost all are wearing smiles. The older children--those in grades four, five and six--are resplendent in colorful dresses and freshly-pressed trousers, while the little ones have donned an assortment of costumes: a Superman here, a few chickens there, and even an ambiguous blue animal. Mothers snap pictures and hold their 3- and 4-year-olds in open-aired five-bench caravans. It is Monday, June 1, and it is “El Dia del Nino”: The Day of the Child.

“The Day of the Child,” explains INFA social worker Sara Ruiz, “is a day to celebrate the child, and to call attention to their rights.” Indeed, the signs the children have made read “Educating us with love” and “For a better Isabela," referring to the Galapagos island on which they live. INFA, which roughly translates to The Institute for Children and Families, is a “public organization with a social purpose,” according to their literature. Their mission is to “guarantee the rights of girls, boys and adolescents en Ecuador so they can fully exercise their citizenship in terms of freedom and opportunity.” Three departments operate within INFA: The Center for Infant Development, which seeks to ensure adequate care and nourishment for infants ages six months through four years; The Center for Involvement, which organizes activities for elementary through high-school children; and The Center for Protection, which deals with abuse cases.

Day of The Child is the work of the Center for Involvement’s efforts. INFA workers in towns throughout Ecuador have coordinated with their local schools to make the festivities happen, according to Ruiz. In Isabela, for example, the children marched from their school, Jacinto Gordillo, through downtown and then back to school again. Back at school, students posed for pictures and hung their signs before heading into their classrooms for further festivities. The sixth-graders headed down to the beach with their cake and soda, while the younger students stayed at the school to consume their treats. “There will be no learning today,” laughs school director Angel Bulta.

Bulta practically beams as he talks about his school: “It was started six years ago, and I am now in my third year being the director. Every year, it grows a little bit more. We try to do more things.” There is even talk that more grades will be added soon, though more than likely, they will be the beginnings of a new high school, not a continuation of Jacinto Gordillo.

From the outside, the school’s facilities seem pretty basic: the courtyard is the open gravel space between the upper and lower elementary classrooms, each classroom is actually a standalone round building roughly 20 feet in diameter, and the table adjacent to the snack hut seats four. What goes on inside the classroom walls is of course, much more important. The school employs a full-time English teacher for the 150- or so elementary students, and has one teacher whose job is solely to educate the children about Isabela’s environment. They also, according to Angel, teach the students about tourism, so they will know how to receive Isabela’s many visitors. All this is in addition to teaching the usual subjects of reading, writing and ‘rithmetic.

Except on The Day of the Child. The rest of the day was filled with games, singing and general merriment. For sixth-grader Kenlly Caiza, the best part of the day was going to the beach with his classmates. They spent the afternoon playing a game of Shark, in which one student (The Shark) has to catch everyone swimming to the far end of the inlet. The last one caught is dubbed the winner, but becomes the shark for the next round. “It was my favorite part of the day,” grinned Caiga. “Swimming underwater to avoid becoming the shark was a lot of fun.” INFA wouldn’t have it any other way.

Isabela, Galapagos: My New Jerusalem



by Nadia Kijanka

While millions of Muslims, Jews and Christians make pilgrimages to Israel in search of spiritual clarity, it was the flora and fauna of Isabela Island, Galapagos, that helped me shed the scales from my eyes. Upon arriving to this volcanic desert, I had felt waves of depression leftover from the loss of my best friend, escalating family feuds, and the quintessential quarter-life crisis that often accompanies recent graduates. But as I walked through the guided tours of the brackish lagoons and lava fields of Los Tintoreras, and snorkeled with the sea lions in the bay, I could feel my heart climbing out of its well of despair, much like how the sandy lightfoot crabs and marine iguanas climb up the lava rocks from the sea. Emerson would agree with me when I say there is nothing more soothing for the soul than to immerse it in nature, and Isabela Island sheds light on the divinity that still exists in this baffling world.

Isabela’s flora whispered a message of perseverance. Like God, these plants don’t reveal their grace so easily. Their symbolic roots lay hidden, their beauty cloaked in dull grays and browns. They are shrubs to the eye but mirrors to the soul.

In the brackish lagoons, flora does not bedazzle, it unfolds. The first plant I encountered, ironically, was the manzanillo tree, or the “poison apple tree.” Just as I was about to touch one of its tiny apples near my toe, I heard the guide say it was covered from bark to fruit in poisonous sap that would burn even upon a light brush. “You don’t want to climb this tree,” Daniela Iglesias, a tour guide with the National Galapagos Park, said.

Likewise, I was surprised when she pointed to a branch that drooped with needle-thin leaves, barren of flowers buds, a measly offering to the eye in comparison with the mangroves busting with leaves, and heralded it the Jerusalem thorn. Like the manzanillo, this plant carries biblical undertones that stirred my memories of faith. I was surprised to bump into such an internationally known plant on my journey through one of the most remote corners of the globe. Legend has it, according to Marion Bowman’s The Holy Thorn Ceremony, that the Romans used this very plant to make Jesus’ crown of thorns. “It is hard to believe,” Bowman says, “that this first flowered in Glastonbury…Somehow it symbolizes not only the Christmas hope of Christ’s incarnation but also the indestructibility.”

Later, I crossed paths with the Palo Santo, or the “holy tree” that hides its fruit more than it bears it. According to Michael H. Jackson’s A Natural History, “during the dry season, it is gaunt and leafless with pale grey bark. Its leaves appear, together with the flagrant flowers, for a brief time during the rainy period.” Despite its appearance while standing, its fallen branches burn like frankincense, a priest’s delicacy for anointing. Isabel’s flora whispered a message of perseverance. Like God, these plants don’t reveal their grace so easily. Their symbolic roots lay hidden, their beauty cloaked in dull grays and browns. They are shrubs to the eye, but mirrors to the soul.



On the lava rocks of Los Tintoreras, a scattering of scenic islets in a pristine bay, I encountered sights of peace and tranquility. Just as the New Testament prophesizes the lions will lie down with the lambs, so do the lava lizards sunbath on the very heads of the marine iguanas. They piled together on the lava rocks, cuddling like lovers. Neither species seems to mind, Daniela told us. “The lizards eat the dead skin off the iguanas. So the iguanas get a cleaning and the lizards get lunch,” she said. White tipped sharks are known to pass on penguins and sea lions. “All the Galapagos animals eat fish, and there’s enough to go around so rarely are they each others’ prey,” Daniela said.



Instead, they play together. Baby sea lions nip at the sharks’ tails, and the sharks shake them off like a frustrated parent does to a child tugging at their pant legs. Down by the bay, yellow warblers prance about the backs of a sleeping sea lions, and blue-footed boobies sit side by side with pelicans. No corner of earth could better resemble the New Jerusalem than the Galapagos. The animals coexist like godly brothers and sister, save the invasive species, like rats, dogs and goats. It’s as if nature is telling us, a balance is possible, an equilibrium attainable. Humans are often the ones who determine the shifts back and forth, for better or for worse.

And so I realized, life unfolds as clandestinely as the flora and fauna of Isabela Island. If you look close enough, if you listen, you will find the natural grace blossoming in every situation. More often than not, the powers that might be present you with a choice—take an easy way out and be depressed, or keep searching, digging, and hoping for the beauty. Though the plants might seem dull and the animals remote, the mysterious life forms on Isabela Island beckon you to peer beyond the surface and find the beauty that does not flaunt itself, but sustains itself in, through subtlety and grace. The unique ecology of this corner made it thus far, what other proof do you need that you can do the same.