View from the Hill

November 1st is World Vegan Day, a celebration of the birth of veganism and the first vegan society. Vegans all over the world are gathering together to celebrate a healthy, compassionate and environmentally friendly lyfestyle. It’s a big shindig.

Except, of course, if you live on the Rock.

There are no big events here in honor of the day. There are no public gatherings, no banners waving, no free vegan pizza. In fact, I wonder whether you could find more than a handfull of vegans on this entire island, salt beef being what it is to the Newfoundland culture. But I could be wrong here…we don’t get out much.

Maybe it’s not such a big deal in the cities, but on our little rural corner of the island, it’s tough to be vegan. When we left Ontario, land of organic plenty and corner heath food stores, veganism was a cinch. Just pop round to the grocery superstore and pick out supper from a huge variety of vegan friendly products. Simply stop by the health food place on your way home to get the ingredients for your favorite chocolate dessert. Now it’s a whole different kettle of fish. There are very few organic products to be found here, and anything bought in the general store, aside from a limited selection of vegetables, is definitely not vegan.

There’s another problem, as well. Newfoundlanders are known for their code of hospitality. The first thing people do to welcome you into their home or community is feed you. And it’s not an easy matter to refuse the gesture. To do so would be throwing their culture back in their faces, an insult that might greatly affect their feelings of goodwill toward you. Those cakes and squares they’re offering are made with love and offered in friendship.

Too, there’s the problem of ignorance. Many people here are the died-in-the-wool, you-can’t-survive-without-meat variety. They’re virtually untouched by the broader ideas that the larger urban centers might embrace. This isn’t a bad thing altogether; they’re also not touched by the arrogance and insensitivity that comes with urban dwelling. It does, however, make it difficult to just announce your vegan tendencies. I always feel as if it would be tantamount to announcing that you’re a satanist to a congregation of evangelists. Some of them would run away screaming, while the rest would try to drive the devil out of you.

All in all, that leaves us stuck between a rock and a hard place.

As a result, we’ve had to slip back to a quasi-vegan lifestyle. That is to say, more vegetarian than true vegan. Vegetarianism is not such an alien thing. Everybody knows someone who is a vegetarian, even if they do shake their heads in puzzlement as they tell you about them. I think mostly it’s the younger generation bringing their fancy ideas back from the cities where they attend school, or it’s someone who’s moved away to civilization. But nonetheless, this does make it more acceptable to be a vegetarian in rural Newfoundland.

Do I feel guilty about this change? You betcha. And I miss the food variety, too! But once again we’re faced with a tough choice.

We stay as true to our vegan beliefs as we can, but let’s face it, the prime directive is survival, and for that food is necessary, as is the goodwill of our fellows. There have been times when a fillet of cod was a gift we couldn’t afford to decline, and, while we don’t involve ourselves much in the community here, we know that were we ever in dire need these fine people would come to our assistance, as they have in the past. For that alone we accept their gifts of food, vegan or not (save for the moose meat), and we’re grateful for the sentiment behind it, the acceptance it signifies and the comraderie it brings.

So as for this couple of vegans caught between a rock and a hard place, we choose the Rock, with all of its lifestyle challenges. 

Think of us when you’re enjoying that free vegan pizza at the World Vegan Day celebrations, won’t you? We’ll be thinking of you!

I feel like I should apologize for missing out on Blog Action Day, especially considering the topic was the environment, but when I think of it, I wouldn’t know who I was apologizing to, since I have no idea if anyone even reads this stuff (I really must get that stats counter fixed). In an effort to relieve my own conscience, however, and in case I do have a reader or two, I’m posting belatedly on the subject. Obviously, we’re big champions of the cause.

One of the biggest challenges we face in our efforts to live a greener lifestyle has to do with recycling. Living in Ontario made recycling a piece of cake. One tub for cans and bottles, one for paper etc. Just put them out at the curb each week and you were done. Here, however, it’s a different story.

While there is a system in place for recycling in our region, the lack of population means there isn’t any huge program in effect here. There’s no curb side pickup, and recyclables are limited to beverage containers only. It’s no trouble to truck a couple of boxes of bottles to the depot (in our case a transport container near the highway) every six months or so, but it presents a bit of a problem of what to do with the cans, newspapers, plastic and all the other recyclable detritus of life.

We’ve solved as much of the problem as we can by simply not generating as much waste. We rarely eat out of cans—we eat fresh from the garden for the most part, and vegetables don’t come with packaging—and when we do, I save most of them to reuse in projects like melting wax to make candles. Eventually they have to go in the trash, but at least I feel as if we’ve met two of the big R’s.

Now that we have the Internet, we’ve no need for newspapers, but there’s still the unconscionable amount of junk mail to deal with. This we use to light our woodstove. I know, it’s not 100% environmentally friendly, but then neither is a woodstove, though the latter does beat heating with oil or coal, and there are ways of burning that reduce emissions.

I’m also happy to report that we have acquired a smaller, more efficient generator. While it doesn’t produce as much power as the 3500 watt beast—we can’t cook on the hotplate and run the computers at the same time—it does burn 40% less fuel, thus reducing our emissions and our reliance while saving dollars. Of course, we’re aiming for wind and solar power as soon as possible.

Our toilet tissue is recycled naturally in the composting toilet, and we save a huge number of garbage bags simply by keeping a compost bucket in the kitchen for food waste. It all goes right back into the garden from whence it came. And as for the plastic, we don’t purchase many items that come packaged in it and salvage what we can for other uses. It’s about all we can do.

That all being said, I occasionally do find myself questioning the viability of the huge recycling projects, anyway. Does it really make a noticeable difference in the environment?

Before you start sending indignant emails my way, consider this: In order to recycle all the jars, newspapers, bottles, cans and what have you, a facility is required whereby they can be processed. This processing sends enormous amounts of pollution in to the air, as anyone who has ever driven by one of these plants can attest. Trucks are also required to collect and deliver the recyclables, in addition to the usual garbage trucks, equalling yet more emissions and the burning of fossil fuels. Moreover, the end products also have to be transported. Additionally, all the containers have to be produced—and transported—for sorting and other steps of the process.

Though it may amount to less waste, in the end, I’m convinced that the better option is simply to cut back on the consumerism and not produce the waste in the first place. Of the three R’s, the most importance should be placed on reusing and reducing, before the need for recycling even becomes an issue.