Greenversations

About the author: As Jeffrey Levy of EPA’s blog team enjoyed a recent vacation, he sent along environmentally relevant thoughts and pictures.

We’ve been back home now for a few weeks. Hawaii was a pretty incredible way to spend our 15th anniversary. Aside from a sense of wonder, a couple of things struck me while I was there that have stayed with me.

First, it amazed me how little air conditioning is used in Hawaii. Between the trade winds and the magically low humidity (I mean, it’s a tropical island!), it was remarkably comfortable even in the upper 80s. And I get hot here in DC when it breaks 75. What’s funny is that when I’ve brought it up to friends who have also visited, they say they were also surprised.

The Honolulu airport was mostly open to the outside. Actually, some gates have air-conditioned spaces, but not the main terminal. I wonder how they decide where to put it? And then there’s the Kona airport, which really goes without AC:

You check in under a series of open-air pavilions. Once you’re though security, there is no concourse. Instead, each gate area has its own pavilion, and you walk across an open-air courtyard to get to your gate.

My first hint that’s how it would be came when making reservations, and every place mentioned ceiling fans but not AC. In fact, the only place with AC was our Waikiki hotel. I wonder if that’s a heat-island effect, or it’s just that there’s little airflow through a high-rise hotel room. Or maybe it’s that tourists expect AC, so hotels there include it.

Hawaiians seem in tune with their environment in a way that I envy. And in this case, they save a lot of energy by relying on their special climate to keep things comfortable. If only we could import it here. When we landed in DC at 10:00 pm, it was only 73 degrees but about 20 times stickier.

The other thing I wanted to mention is the coqui frog. You may remember Lina Younes asking people in Hawaii not to eradicate this Puerto Rican favorite. I’ll leave the debate about whether to eradicate them in the comments on that post.

But Lina commented on my first Hawaii post asking whether I’d heard the little songsters. Did I ever! North of Hilo, we heard a single frog, and I can understand Lina’s fond memories of “co-kee, co-kee” lulling her to sleep.

But south of Hilo in the forest, they were so loud we could hear them through the car windows (yes, we were hot, so we put on the AC). So for Lina, I recorded them: Hawaiian coqui (MP3 sound file, 20 seconds, 550 KB, transcript).

Now I understand why people commented on Lina’s post that the coquis had destroyed their peaceful evenings!

About the author: Lina Younes has been working for EPA since 2002 and chairs EPA’s Multilingual Communications Task Force. Prior to joining EPA, she was the Washington bureau chief for two Puerto Rican newspapers and she has worked for several government agencies.

Lea la versión en español a continuación de esta entrada en inglés.

Some links exit EPA or have Spanish content.

When my friend Jeff M. came back from Hawaii, he mentioned the Hawaiian-Puerto Rican controversy over the tiny Puerto Rican frog, the coquí-the Eleutherodactylus coquí.

The controversy or “national conflict” depending if you ask a Puerto Rican, made front page headlines several years ago when Puerto Rico got wind of Hawaii’s efforts to eradicate these innocent Puerto Rican frogs. How did they travel thousands of miles across the oceans? Apparently some innocent coquís got on a plant shipment from the tropical paradise in the Caribbean to a similar paradise thousands of miles away in the Pacific. Needless to say, in that tropical setting without any indigenous predators, these Puerto Rican coquis have multiplied abundantly!

These small frogs are known for their melodious nocturnal sounds in Puerto Rico. They have been the inspiration for numerous songs, stories, and poetry. These small amphibians have become an unofficial symbol of Puerto Rico. In fact, I just read a newspaper article in Puerto Rico, that the Sierra Club-PR and the University of Puerto Rico hosted an Earth Day event to promote the defense of the coquí.

Yet, the coquís-named after their musical chirping-cokée, cokée–have not received a warm aloha from our fellow U.S. citizens in Hawaii.

In fact, what is music to the ears of many Puerto Ricans became more than a amphibian cacophony over in the Pacific. In Hawaii, the coquí chants have been compared to the noise pollution caused by lawn mowers! That’s hard for me to conceptualize, given the fond memories of listening to the coquís at nighttime. I remember many a rainy night falling asleep to the symphony of these harmless creatures. They are so small and defenseless! But for the residents of the state of Hawaii, the Puerto Rican coquís are doomed for complete eradication and some of the methods are not benign at all

It’s true that the Puerto Rican coquí has become an invasive species in Hawaii, yet I still don’t see how coquís challenge Hawaiian wildlife. I still cannot understand why their chants are not music to the ears of the inhabitants of this Island State. Sad to say, it all boils down to one man’s friend is another man’s foe.

Nonetheless-please save the Puerto Rican coquí.

(UPDATE 7/15/2008 - see also Post-Hawaii Musings)

¡Qué viva el coquí!

Sobre la autor: Lina M. F. Younes ha trabajado en la EPA desde el 2002 y está a cargo del Grupo de Trabajo sobre Comunicaciones Multilingües. Como periodista, dirigió la oficina en Washington de dos periódicos puertorriqueños y ha laborado en varias agencias gubernamentales.

Cuando mi amigo Jeff M. regresó de Hawaí, mencionó la controversia entre Hawaí-Puerto Rico sobre la pequeña ranita puertorriqueña, el coquí-Eleutherodactylus coquí.

Esta controversia o “conflicto nacional” si le pregunta a un puertorriqueño, fue motivo de titulares de primera plana hace varios años atrás cuando Puerto Rico se enteró de los esfuerzos hawaianos por erradicar estos pequeños anfibios. ¿Cómo viajaron miles de millas por los océanos? Aparentemente unos inocentes coquíes estaban en un cargamento de plantas que viajaron del paraíso tropical en el Caribe a otro paraíso semejante miles de millas de distancia en el Pacífico. ¡Demás está decir que en ese entorno tropical sin enemigo autóctono en Hawaí, estos coquíes se multiplicaron abundantemente!

Estos pequeños anfibios se caracterizan por los sonidos nocturnos en Puerto Rico. Han servido de inspiración a numerosas canciones, cuentos, y poesías . Estos pequeños anfibios se han convertido en un símbolo extraoficial de Puerto Rico. De hecho, acabo de leer un artículo de periódico anunciando que el Sierra Club-PR y la Universidad de Puerto Rico auspiciaron un evento del Día del Planeta Tierra para promover la defensa del coquí.

Sin embargo, los coquíes-conocidos por su melodioso cantar-coquí, coquí-no han recibido un caluroso aloha de sus conciudadanos estadounidenses en Hawaí.

De hecho, lo que es música para los oídos de muchos puertorriqueños se convirtió en una cacofonía anfibia allá en el Pacífico. ¡En Hawaí, el cantar del coquí ha sido comparado a la contaminación de ruido ocasionado por las cortadoras de césped! Me es difícil conceptualizarlo dado los gratos recuerdos de escuchar a los coquíes al anochecer. Recuerdo muchas noches lluviosas quedarme dormida con la sinfonía de estas criaturas inofensivas. ¡Son pequeñas e indefensas! Pero para los residentes del estado de Hawaí, los coquíes puertorriqueños están condenados a erradicación completa y algunos de los métodos no son nada de benignos.

Es cierto que el coquí puertorriqueño se ha convertido en una especie invasora en Hawaí, pero todavía no veo cómo los coquíes amenazan la vida silvestre hawaiana. Tampoco entiendo el por qué su cantar no es música para los oídos de los habitantes de este estado isleño. Lamento decir, que la controversia se limita al hecho de que la criatura que es amiga para unos resulta enemiga de otros.

Independientemente de la clasificación-ayuden a salvar al coquí puertorriqueño.