Nuclear "No Thanks"

Thousands of anti-nuclear activists and environmentalists alike gathered in Sinop on Saturday for a peaceful demonstration against the planned nuclear power plant that the government say will be built on the Ince peninsula. It was an inspiring weekend in Turkey, a weekend where a group of people, who care not only about their own country, but about the world as a whole, took to the streets and committed their time to making a stand against their own government while supporting the locals in their battle against Turkey's nuclear aims. One journalist there told me of how in his opinion there is no energy crisis in Turkey, but they are clouded in their vision by industrialisation of any type at any cost.

The convoy carrying activisits from all over Turkey was greeted with smiling faces and welcoming waves as it rolled into town. Those who did not know about the nuclear ambitions of their government became better informed, which may add some value to stopping the Turkish government from building a nuclear power plant in one of the country's most bio-diverse areas. The landscape we passed was breath-taking and rich in flora and wildlife.


Up to 10,000 people marched through the Black Sea fishing village of Sinop in protest of the government's plans to build the plant not far from the town. The rally marched through the streets and congregated in the town square shouting anti-nuclear slogans and sang environmentalists songs. Members of the main opposition party CHP were present, although no representatives of the ruling Justice and development Party (AKP) came.

Residents joined Turks, who had traveled from all over Turkey, and marched through the streets in protest of the government's nuclear plans. Buses traveled from Istanbul and Ankara carrying many NGOs such as "The Greens" and "Anti-Nuclear Platform". The trip was organised by the Chamber of Electric Engineers (EMO). The event was a peaceful one with low police presence on the ground – all demonstrators passed through a check point before entering the town square.


Following a meeting on April 14, of Turkey's top energy officials and representatives of 14 firms, statements circulated in the Turkish media that the government had confirmed Sinop as the site of where the new nuclear plant is to be built. Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan was quoted by the Turkish media on April 14 as saying the Black Sea coastal town of Sinop was "the one".




Sinop has been chosen from eight possible locations based on a list of criteria which include seawater temperature, climate, wind and general weather conditions, according to Turkey's Atomic Energy Agency (TAEK).
TAEK's president, Oktay Cakiroglu, announced on April 14 in a speech to a parliamentary commission that technical studies conducted countrywide had shown Sinop to be a good location to build the plant based on the agency's criteria, and that a technology centre would soon be established there.
The region surrounding the Sariye Dam was also thought to be a candidate for the facility, but was later found to be unsuitable due to transportation problems in the area.
In the latest report by TAEK, dated March 15, plans on where to construct the facility in Sinop were laid out, with the Abali village on the Inceburun, Turkey's northernmost point, noted as the site.



A second rally is planned for June, but the location is not yet known.

For a look from an economical and political standpoint with a little more regional background, here's an article I wrote two weeks ago:

http://www.oxfordbusinessgroup.com/weekly01.asp?id=1937

Chernobyl 20 years on...

Remembering the liquidators – hundreds of firemen lost their lives as they bravely battled against the reactor.


Radioactive rescue vehicles dumped in a field in the zone.


Pripyat city, home to 45,000 people at the time of the disaster.


The town square which once housed the laughter of a young rising middle class.


Party sign which sits on the top of the highest buidling in Prpiyat city. The power of the party looms over the city.


Signs that a healthy lifestyle was appreciated in the zone at one time. Remains found in the kitchen of an apartment building.


Peeling walls of an apartment building in Pripyat city.


Billboard which ironically reads "To Your Health", there are lots of these dotted around the zone, a pretty green landscapes against a backdrop of radiation.


Signs of a comfortable lifestyle. Electric goods were something of a luxury in the 1980s.


Screaminghead highlights the disaster.


Artists have highlighted the victims of the disaster – the children.

I never include personal items, but this was too good to miss. My rock and roll dad on the left and his aptly named band. I finally understand why I feel like this often.

Click on picture to see real size

Johannesburg, the walled city

www.flickr.com More of Sabral Circle's photos tagged with johannesburg

Africa
Watering hole 80km from the Swaziland border

Logging up in the mountains on the Wild Frontier

Lonely House in Swaziland

Public rest stop

Headline News

Mining village on the Wild Frontier

Aids orphans living on the land

Swaziland... the greenest country in the world... and a nation hooked on football with the highest rate of HIV infection in the world. UNICEF estimate that 700,000 children in a population of one million have already lost at least one parent to the disease and that 15,000 now live in child-headed households. It is however, the most beautiful countryside I've ever seen – one big mountain range of rolling green hills.



Florence was hanging out with her friends at the regional telephone booth when the car of whiteys stopped. The air was dry, and the sun was in its usual position scanning the mountain range. She was secretly glad that the red peugeot with a Johannesburg registration had pulled over, the others, in opposition, were much more suspicious.



"Look, here they come again, ask them for 20 Rand this time," Said the telephone attendant's daughter as she folded the hotel's laundry into neat squares that would fit in the canvas bag she had just found on the road from Piggs Peak.

Florence didn't care about the money these foreigners had. She had been wondering for the last three hours how she was going to pick up her youngest daughter from school today. It usually took her hours to walk across the mountain.



As the not unfamiliar white tourists armed with cameras stepped out of the car she felt she might be one step closer to collecting Mutanga on time today. It was Mutanga's sixteenth birthday. Today her youngest daughter would become a woman. She couldn't be late for the birthday celebration. There was to be a party after school, everyone would be there. It would be shameful to be late. She watched as the foreigners got back into their car satisfied with the pictures they had taken. The struggle with her inner-conscience and self confidence began.


"Should I ask them? Should I ask them? I can't. Just do it! No, why would they help me? I am nobody to them. They are rich white people. Why would they help me? But I am desperate if I miss Mutanga's birthday she will be so sad. She has never been the same since her father died three years ago."


Florence looked at her watch, the watch her husband had given her for the last Christmas they had shared together. Time was running out, there was nothing more to do, plus she had nothing to loose, she had already lost everything to an unknown force, that of Aids, a killer that she could neither understand or comprehend.

It was now or never. Now she thought or never. Approaching the red car she spoke in her best English, "Hey, can you give me a ride?" She said nervously, not knowing whether her badly spoken English would be understood.

"Sure, hop in, where are you going?"

She couldn't believe her luck. She would be on time today, on time for her daughter's birthday. They had no idea of what they had just done for her, she could never repay them. Some things are unquantifiable in this life she thought and the smile across her face was evidence of just that.

After the twenty minute car journey of pleasant conversation, they dropped her off. Florence cried as she walked into the school yard as did Mutanga, happy that her mother was on time today, while knowing that she was really the only person who could ever understand the loss of her father dying.


"Here, my daughter. This is for you on your very special day."

Florence gave Mutanga a beaded necklace that she had just spent the last four hours collecting.

"Thank you mother, I know the road is not easy with your bad knees. I love it, but I love it more that you are here."


Mutanga's class mates came running across the yard singing the sweet Umhalanga and there was in that moment nowhere else in the world that she wanted to be, she only wished that her father could have been there to see her reach womanhood.

"You will be a great doctor," said Mutanga's science teacher, "You will honour your father, we are all proud of you."

"Yes, we are," said Florence.

The dance had already surrounded them. Lost in the chanting they forgot for a moment the loss of their beloved father, husband, source of discipline and inspiration. Today was a day to celebrate life, so they gave in to the party and danced the Umhalanga until the sun went down and it was time to go home.

My driver, who lives in Soweto, told me of how his brother was shot on his way to work two weeks ago. His brother, 42-years-old, was on his way to the train station in the morning (on his way to work) and was shot by two youths. When I asked him if he knew who had done it, he said "No", and that, "It was some youths just trying to rob him, and he probably put up a fight so they shot him."

A 42-year-old man on his way to the train station in a poorish neighbourhood was shot for not handing over his wallet. The family were left behind to mourn the tragic death of their brother, uncle and son, for no real reason beyond the fact that he probably put up a fight over not very much money. A random and tragic killing, something that is not uncommon in South Africa, although, locals will tell you it's not as bad as it used to be before...

"Memory waits quite often, like a train in a tunnel, until it senses a green light. Memory is alive, hunkering sometimes submerged, but often not. It is just kept in the dark. When it re-emerges.... reality is re-evaluated."

Wilde-Menozzi, 2001:44

Taken from "Childhood" a book compiled of South African writers and public figures, some known some not known - Mandela and JM Coetze - all of whom were asked to recall their childhood in a country that has sometimes not documented the lives of its children so well.

We as humans are exceptionally good at distorting moments in our lives. The realisation sets in, when the memory fades and a passing moment, music, smell or image reminds you of the times spent earlier - and how great or horrific they were.

In 1976, 30 years ago, the children of a South African township - Sowetto - rose up and protested the enforced learning of Afrikans in their schools. A 13-year-old boy, Hector Pieterson was shot by police in the chaos. This moment recorded changed the future of South Africa forever.

Children have sometimes been responsible for South Africa's changes, and now lie victims to the worst war of all - that of Aids. Companies are now starting to understand that for any kind of long-term growth plan they must offer healthcare packages in order to treat their sometimes 30% infected workforce as well as their families.

It is a difficult topic for the government to deal with, although constitutionally every South African citizen has a right to healthcare, however, with the current rate of AIDS and HIV positive patients, this would bankrupt the country. The cost of ARTs is not cheap, and these meds must be perscribed to a patent forever - implications of which dictate a sincere committment by all involved.

A lifetime promise must be made by each employer to his or her employee. It is already happening, thankfully, there are a few industrialists who are leading the way in HIV treatment for South Africa's labourforce.

Today many companies have healthcare programmes for their employees, but it is still not enough. The government must take some action over ARTs. I imagine that the new dispensing fees for pharmacies, which are aimed at reducing the price of medicine by up to 15% may be a drive in this area. But, at this point it is purley speculation, hard evidence will follow. It may also of course, be merely a concern by the drug companies in their fight against counterfeit meds - we will see?