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태평양의 도서국(島嶼國)

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태평양의 도서국(島嶼國)

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the Pacific island nations are on the verge of submerging

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On the hottest days, Leitu Frank feels like she can't breathe any more. The housewife and mother of five decamps from her airless concrete home to catch the breeze in a simple wooden shack by the water's edge. She folds washing and stares out at the unsettled turquoise sea, its moods and rhythms increasingly unpredictable, as its rising proximity threatens to strangle her family.

"The sea is eating all the sand," says Frank, 32, dressed in a pink stretchy T-shirt and faded sarong.

"Before, the sand used to stretch out far, and when we swam we could see the sea floor, and the coral. Now, it is cloudy all the time, and the coral is dead. Tuvalu is sinking."

"Tuvalu is sinking" is the local catch-all phrase for the effects of climate change on this tiny island archipelago on the frontline of global warming. A Polynesian country situated in Oceania, Tuvalu is no more than a speck in the Pacific ocean, midway between Hawaii and Australia.

The fourth smallest nation in the world, Tuvalu is home to just 11,000 people, most of whom live on the largest island of Fongafale, where they are packed in and fighting for space. Tuvalu's total land area accounts for less than 26 sq km.

Already, two of Tuvalu's nine islands are on the verge of going under, the government says, swallowed by sea-rise and coastal erosion. Most of the islands sit barely three metres above sea level, and at its narrowest point, Fongafale stretches just 20m across.

During storms, waves batter the island from the east and the west, "swallowing" the country, in the words of the locals. Many say they have nightmares that the sea will soon gobble them up for good, and not just as a distant fear in their slumber - but by the next generation. Scientists predict Tuvalu could become uninhabitable in the next 50 to 100 years. Locals say they feel it could be much sooner.

Nausaleta Setani, Frank's aunt, sleeps beside the lagoon at night in the wooden shack, using a float buoy as a pillow. Initially a non-believer in climate change, like many older people on the island, Setani has slowly become convinced of the science as her daily life becomes tougher with every erratic movement of the sea.

"The weather is changing very quickly, day to day, hour to hour," says Setani, 54, paradoxically soothed and disturbed by the ocean lapping metres away from her hut.

"I have been learning the things that are happening are the result of man, especially [from] other countries. It makes me sad. But I understand other countries do what is best for their people. I am from a small country. All I want is for the bigger countries to respect us, and think of our lives."

The United Nations Development Programme classifies Tuvalu as a resource poor, "least-developed country", that is "extremely vulnerable" to the effects of climate change. Porous, salty soil has made the ground almost totally useless for planting, destroying staple pulaka crops and decreasing the yields of various fruits and vegetables.

Starchy Pacific Island staples such as taro and cassava now have to be imported at great expense, along with most other food.

Since the rising ocean contaminated underwater ground supplies, Tuvalu is now totally reliant on rainwater, and droughts are occurring with alarming frequency. Even if the locals could plant successfully, there is now not enough rain to keep even simple kitchen gardens alive.

The Frank family spend around AU$200 (£105) a fortnight on groceries, a bill that keeps rising as the fruit on the trees that ring their modest home - breadfruit, bananas and pandanus - fail to ripen, and fall to the sandy ground, inedible and rotten.

The fish too, the stuff of life here, have become suspect. Ciguatera poisoning affects reef fish who have ingested micro-algaes expelled by bleached coral. When fish infected with these ciguatera toxins are consumed by humans, it causes an immediate and sometimes severe illness: vomiting, fevers and diarrhoea.

At the local hospital, a specialist department has been set up to study and manage climate change-related illnesses.

Around ten Tuvaluans present with ciguatera poisoning every week, accounting for about 10% of the weekly case-load of climate-related illnesses. Suria Eusala Paufolau (left, or above on mobile), acting chief of public health, says cases of fish poisoning began to climb a decade ago; around the same time the weather really started to go haywire.

Climate-related illnesses that have increased on par with the changing weather include influenza, fungal diseases, conjunctivitis, and dengue fever, according to the hospital's research.

Higher daily temperatures are also putting people at daily risk of dehydration, heatstroke and heat rashes, Paufolau says.

"Generally the local population does not see the link between climate change and health. But there is always a sense of fear about what is happening to our home."

Tuvalu is heavily reliant on foreign aid, with most of its GDP made up from donations from the UN and neighbouring countries.

Education and employment prospects on the island are limited, and the majority of young people whose families can afford it leave to study in Fiji, Australia or New Zealand - a "brain drain" that has been extensively documented.

But as climate change batters the seashore, a trickle of young Tuvaluans are returning, even if coming home can feel claustrophobic after the freedoms of life beyond the islands.

Tapua Pasuna, 24, was crowned Miss Tuvalu last year, and used her platform to campaign for women's rights and education.

The daughter of the country's third female MP, Pasuna describes herself as "floating" since she returned from university studies in New Zealand, and says she was drawn back to the island by extensive family obligations, and a sense of responsibility to do what she could for the archipelago.

"I left in 2010. When I came back I immediately noticed the difference. The heat is sometimes unbearable now, and the erosion is also dramatic. Some of my favourite spots have disappeared," says Pasuna, sitting in a stiff-backed wooden chair in her tropical garden, the barely constructed seawall just metres from her home.

"I feel like this is a part of who I am and I shouldn't just run away from it, even though it's disappearing. To just abandon it at such a time as this, when it is hurting - I don't feel comfortable. I don't feel like I can do that."

If this sounds like a tidal wave of despair, the mood on the ground is far less acute. When planes aren't expected, children ride their bikes and play volleyball on the country's airstrip, while young courting couples take lazy laps on their motorbikes.

In the afternoons, people snooze in hammocks for hours, and light campfires on the beaches to fry fish and keep the mosquitoes away. A sleepy, sanguine air permeates day-to-day life, as locals watch the lapping of the waves move ever closer.

"Come what may," locals say again and again, quoting the prime minister, "God will save us."

The largest building in the capital, Funafuti, is Government House, a three-storey white monolith that houses the offices of the country's MPs. Tuvalu's official government policy is to stay on the island - "come what may".

Plans for adapting to climate change include the ongoing - and much delayed - construction of a sea wall to protect the administrative centre of the capital, funded by the UNDP.

The local town council has a plan to dredge and reclaim land at the south of Fongafale, raise the land 10 metres above sea level, and build high-density housing. It is a plan that would cost US$300m (£233m), and that so far has no funding.

Other options - such as constructing a floating island - are also being explored, as is importing refuse from Australian mines to construct an energy wall to ring the atolls, breaking up the power of the sea as it smashes towards the islands. How the reef ecosystem would survive such a wall has not been explained.

Evacuating the islands is the last resort, says Tuvalu's prime minister, Enele Sopoaga, despite frequent talk from Pacific neighbours that Tuvaluans will become the world's first climate-change refugees.

Many government officials openly express anger at the election of Donald Trump, saying his climate change scepticism has precipitated a huge step back for global cooperation on climate issues, and made Tuvalu's small voice on the world stage even smaller.

"I think they hate us," says Soseala Tinilau (below), the director of the Environment ministry.

Tinilau is referring to the cheerful burning of coal by the US and Australia, among others, despite a recent report from the UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Changewarning that global warming must be kept to a maximum of 1.5C over the next 12 years to avoid catastrophic climate affects.

"During COP [climate] negotiations we had to stay up till 7am to ensure we were listened too," says Tinilau.

"The world want to ignore us. They want to keep behaving as if we don't exist, as if what's happening here isn't true. We can't let them."

Fiji has repeatedly offered land to the Tuvaluan government to relocate their population 1,200km south, an offer the Sopoaga government has not accepted. In a recent essay, former Australian prime minister Kevin Rudd suggested Tuvalu's citizens could be offered full citizenship in exchange for their country's maritime and fisheries rights; a proposal rejected by Sopoaga as "imperial thinking".

"Moving outside of Tuvalu will not solve any climate change issues ... If you put these people in the middle of industrialised countries it will simply boost their consumptions and increase greenhouse gas emissions," says Sopoaga, a fierce advocate for global cooperation on climate change issues.

"I am very worried about this very self-defeatist approach to suggest that people from low-lying, at-risk countries could be relocated. Because it fails to understand the implications of this issue for the entire world."

Sopoaga says there is "no plan B" for Tuvalu, and every government effort is concentrated on adapting to the changing weather patterns - and staying put.

"We cannot just say, 'Kick these people out.' It is too simplistic and defeatist an approach," says Sopoaga.

"I think it would be a great shame for the world to allow that to happen. I believe we still have time to make this island very attractive, very beautiful, and continue to be inhabited by generations of Tuvaluans to come."

Seen from the air, Tuvalu looks like paradise: a slim scar of sand densely planted with coconut palms, and ringed by shallow emerald waters. But up close, the fragility of the land reveals itself. Beside the runway, golden sand spills on to the concrete, and scraggly green grass struggles to survive. The horizon is flat, and dominated by sea; sea that presses at you from every side. The air - ripe, over-cooked - pushes people into the dark interiors of their homes in the middle of the day, sticky and cloying.

At Tuvalu's Bureau of Meteorology, situated on the edge of the runway - with pig pens to its left and the country's prison to its right (home to just six inmates) - Nikotemo Iona and his small team are working overtime as they crunch the latest rainfall measurements. They are hours away from declaring another drought.

According to local climate data, Iona says the biggest impacts of climate change on Tuvalu have been rising air temperatures, more intense and frequent storm surges and decreasing rainfall, as well as the total inundation of low-lying coastal parts of Funafuti - including, sometimes, the country's lifeline, its runway.

"Many people intend to migrate in response to climate change," says Iona, sitting inside his squat, concrete office, designed to stay upright and continue broadcasting during cyclone season, which is intensifying year on year.

"However, most of the older generation do not want to move as they believe the will lose their identity, culture, lifestyle and traditions. But I believe that younger generations intend to migrate for the sake of the future generations."

During storm surges or the highest tides, the Pacific Ocean bubbles up from the sandy soil under Enna Sione's small yellow house. Fifty metres away, palm trees lie scattered across a rocky, coral strewn beach, turning grey in the hot sun, their twisted, decaying root systems facing skywards.

Sitting on a slayed coconut tree, Sione's eyes are troubled as she stares at the ocean, beating its relentless path against her home. Sione, her husband and four children are planning to migrate to New Zealand in the next two years - to join more than 2,000 of fellow Tuvaluans already resident in the country; a migrant population that doubles every five years.

"The weather has really, extremely changed. Sometimes I feel scared of the ocean," says Sione, who adds that she is leaving for the sake of her kids.

"Maybe one time Tuvalu will disappear. From what I can see a lot is already gone. I think one day we will disappear."

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'One day we'll disappear': Tuvalu's sinking islands | Eleanor Ainge Roy

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Rising seas are on the verge of swallowing two of the tiny archipelago's nine islands, and the encroaching waves haunt locals' dreams

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Small island developing states and climate change vulnerability

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Small island developing states and climate change vulnerability

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The author of the paper on which this case study is based is: Ilan Kelman, Centre for International Climate and Environmental Research, Oslo

Appeared in: The Geographical Journal: Volume 180, Issue 2

Reference: Kelman, I. (2014) No change from climate change: vulnerability and small island developing states, The Geographical Journal, 180:2, p120-129

Small Island Developing States (SIDS) are a United Nations designated group of fifty two countries and territories which display similar developmental and sustainability concerns (UN, 1994 and 2005). SIDS are mainly small isolated islands, and people living in SIDS often depend on the ocean for their livelihoods. These communities are commonly understood to be among the first places that will to be very seriously affected by climate change

Although climate change is a very serious threat to SIDS, the rhetoric surrounding climate change - the way it is discussed in the media and in some academic research as singularly the greatest hazard facing the world today - overshadows many of the other development issues to which SIDS communities are exposed. Thinking about climate change as isolated from other development issues, fails to take into account that regions vulnerable to climate change are often also vulnerable to other longstanding non-climate related development problems such as lack of access to resources and markets, exposure to natural hazards, or their relative isolation. Climate change represents a severe threat to SIDS, but rather than thinking about climate change as an isolated hazard, it is important to address a wider range of development challenges, particularly as some of these development issues can make populations more vulnerable to the effects of climate change, both now and in the long term (Solomon et al, 2009). The study of SIDS illustrates that there are many interconnected factors that influence vulnerability, of which climate change is just one. In this context, one can explore the ways in which climate change rhetoric may actually be masking our ability to see and manage other development challenges.

At the heart of this is the concept of 'vulnerability': a population's exposure to, and ability to manage the impact of, a hazardous event, such as climate change. Part of this involves recognition that 'natural disasters' and 'natural hazards' are not necessarily the same thing. The former describes an extreme event and its effects after it has happened, while the latter recognises the idea that extreme events may not always endanger people, their homes and their livelihoods, but they do have the potential to do so. The extent to which a population is exposed to that risk is largely influenced by decisions that are made by a nationally based political system and, as a consequence, people can become less or more vulnerable respectively (Steinberg, 2000).

In the case of SIDS, political actions may even exacerbate vulnerability to hazards such as climate change. The table below highlights some hypothetical scenarios in which the poor governance of development challenges experienced in SIDS could actually intensify the overall effects of climate change.

Aspect of climate change Direct impact A pre-existing development challenge that could worsen the impact of climate change

Sea level rise

Salinisation of freshwater sources

Insecure water supplies per capita

Rise in sea temperature

Compromised integrity of marine ecosystems

Unsustainable commercial fishing practices

Changes to storm and rainfall patterns

Increased intensity of coastal erosion

Unreliable structural coastal defences

In addition to presenting climate change as an isolated development challenge, climate change rhetoric often misrepresents climate change hazards that effect SIDS as entirely new phenomena (Nunn et al, 2007). As a result, some underlying, and often long-standing, development challenges that SIDS face are neglected and past experience of managing vulnerability is overlooked.

One of the dangers of focusing primarily on climate change related hazards is that the important question of a population's vulnerability - a vulnerability that was often present before the science and vernacular associated with climate change were widely used in mainstream media and academic research - can be side-lined. One of the key challenges for SIDS political leaders is to ascertain why SIDS populations are particularly vulnerable to the effects of climate change, and why they do not always have adequate resources to adapt to and/mitigate climate change related hazards.

Writing about the relationship between climate change and migration in Kiribati and Tuvalu in the Pacific Ocean, Locke (2009) argues that although climate change has been frequently cited as the primary cause of migration, climate change is often not the direct cause of migration, and that there are many other reasons why SIDS people migrate (for example, family reasons, lack of access to housing and a lack of employment opportunities). The mismatches between the cause and effect of development inequality can have a direct impact on how SIDS manage vulnerability to climate change. Opportunities to reduce vulnerability through addressing development challenges can be side-lined and there is a tendency to separate climate change from development. By addressing underlying development challenges, and tackling these at the same time as climate change, SIDS populations will be less vulnerable to the effects of climate change. The 'Build Back Better' agenda, a tagline adopted by many groups responding in the wake of the 2004 Banda Aceh tsunami, is cited as a particularly positive approach. 'Build Back Better' refers to a series of initiatives that tackle longstanding development challenges, such as inequality, hazard preparedness, and disaster recovery simultaneously (Clinton 2006).

Though climate change, and its direct management, should not be ignored, the challenge for SIDS is ensuring that vulnerability to all hazards, including climate change are addressed, and that opportunities for tackling other development challenges are not overlooked. For governments and organisations outside SIDS, it is important to put climate change on the agenda alongside other hazards, and to focus on addressing the key issues that prevent SIDS from managing vulnerabilities to all hazards, including climate change. Non-SIDS may also have to recognise the diverse nature of these island nations in terms of their population size, island area, relief and geomorphology as well as how their community views differ spatially. This will allow aid to target specific development challenges, even though their vulnerability to climate change may be similar.

References

Barnett, J. and Campbell, J. (2010) Climate change and small island states: power, knowledge and the South Pacific, Earthscan, London

Grote, J. (2010) The changing tides of small island states discourse - a historical overview of the appearance of small island states in the international arena, Law and Politics in Africa, Asia and Latin America, 2, p164-191

Locke, J. T. (2009) Climate change-induced migration in the Pacific Region: sudden crisis and long-term developments, The Geographical Journal, 175, p171-180

Nunn, P. D. Hunter-Anderson, R. Carson, M. T. Thomas, F. Ulm, S. and Rowland, M. J. (2007) Times of plenty, times of less: last-millennium societal disruption in the Pacific Basin, Human Ecology, 35, p385-401

Solomon, S. Plattner, G. K. Knuttic, R. and Friedlingstein, P. (2009) Irreversible climate change due to carbon dioxide emissions, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences USA, 106, p1704-1709

Steinberg, T. (2000) Acts of god: the unnatural history of natural disaster in America, OUP, New York

UN (1994) Report of the Global Conference on the Sustainable Development of Small Island Developing States, United Nations, New York

UN (2005) Draft Mauritius strategy for the further implementation of the programme of action for the sustainable development of small island developing states, United Nations, New York

Key Words

Climate Change
A substantial change in the long term weather patterns of a particular place.

Natural Disaster
A naturally occurring event that has already caused huge harm to people and / or the environment.

Natural Hazard
A naturally occurring event that has the potential to cause harm to people and / or the environment.

Small Island Developing States (SIDS)
Typically small and low lying island nations that tend to share similar development challenges.

Vulnerability
The inability of local populations to deal with the impact of a naturally hazardous event

Lesson Ideas

By carrying out independent research, students can look at the particular development challenges facing one SIDS and then draw a mind map, graphically show the links between these challenges and different aspects of climate change, both causes and effects.

Challenge the students to suggest a five point plan for developed nations to help reduce SIDS' vulnerability to climate change by tackling well known development challenges. Students should identify the potential barriers to their plans working and suggest further ways of overcoming these barriers.

Students should consider whether it is possible to define what exactly a 'climate change refugee' is and whether there is any evidence that some nations have genuinely already experienced this idea.

Links
Ilan Kelman's original article

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Small island developing states and climate change vulnerability - RGS

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The author of the paper on which this case study is based is: Ilan Kelman, Centre for International Climate and Environmental Research, Oslo Appeared in: The Geographical Journal: Volume 180, Issue 2 Reference: Kelman, I.

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중국의 모든 도시 지역의 45%가 연간 3밀리미터씩 가라앉고 있다. 16%는 연간 10밀리미터보다 훨씬 빠르다. 베이징에서 남동쪽으로 150km 미만인 중국 북서부의 해안 도시 톈진은 세계에서 가장 높은 수준의 침하를 가지고 있다. 이 변화의 주요 원인 중 하나는 도시화에 필요한 자원에 기인한다. 건물 건설에서 물 공급에 이르기까지 모든 것에 사용되는 지하수의 추출은 토지를 연간 평균 52.2mm로 가라앉게 했다. 2023년에 도로에 큰 균열이 나타났을 때 기초 아래 땅의 안정성에 대한 우려가 높아진 후 적어도 세 개의 고층 건물에서 3000명 이상의 주민들이 대피했다.

2023년 8월, 톈진은 태풍 독수리의 여파로 심각한 홍수로 광범위한 피해를 입힌 후 허베이성에서 몇 명의 피난민을 수용했다. 그 지역이 극심한 기상 현상의 영향을 더 자주 받고 있다는 것을 상기시켜준다. 톈진에서 땅이 계속 가라앉는다면, 홍수의 영향은 더 심각할 수 있다.

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남은 토지: 26sq km

9개 섬 중 2개 침수 위험에 처함

주민들 거주 불안

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자카르타의 40%는 게데 판그랑고, 살락, 마시기트 산의 인근 산맥에서 시작된 13개의 강이 교차하는 충적 평원에서의 발전과 광범위한 강우로 인해 해수면 아래에 있으며, 강은 종종 장마철에 범람한다. 이 도시의 주민들이 홍수에 낯선 사람이 아니라는 것은 놀라운 일이 아니다. 그러나, 도시의 땅은 전례 없는 속도로 가라앉고 있으며, 낮은 거짓말과 결과적으로 홍수가 발생하기 쉬운 지역의 양을 증가시키고 있다. 도시의 일부 지역에서는 2018년부터 땅이 4cm 이상 가라앉었다. 이것은 주로 시민들이 물에 접근할 필요가 있기 때문이다. 도시 인구의 절반 이상이 여전히 배관된 물 공급에 접근할 수 없다. 게다가, 담수는 자바 해의 염수의 오염과 침투로 인해 방해를 받는다. 그러므로, 지하수가 추출된다. 톈진에서 볼 수 있듯이, 지하수의 추출은 지표면에 영향을 미쳐 가라앉는다.

당국은 그럼에도 불구하고, 그들은 물 공급에 대한 대안을 제공하지 않았고, 900만 명 이상의 주민들이 정기적인 물 공급을 받지 못했다. 해안 홍수의 영향을 줄이기 위해 도시 북쪽에 해벽을 건설하는 계획도 진행 중이다. 그러나, 정부의 가장 두드러진 결정은 수도 1,300km를 보르네오 섬으로 이전하는 것이다. 새로운 도시는 자바어로 '군도'를 의미하는 누산타라라고 불릴 것이다; 건물은 인도네시아의 미래를 위한 지속 가능한 도시를 만드는 데 중점을 두고 2022년에 시작되었다.

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네덜란드는 수세기 동안 홍수의 영향과 싸우고 있다. 전통적인 풍차를 대체한 대형 펌프는 국가의 일부를 홍수로부터 막는 데 사용되는 매우 효율적이어서 땅이 가라앉게 한다. 게다가, 네덜란드는 주로 덥고 건조한 달에 건조하고 갈라지는 점토 토양 위에 지어져 많은 도시에 문제를 일으킨다. 네덜란드 해안선에 있는 로테르담은 현재 연간 평균 1.5cm의 속도로 가라앉고 있다. 겨울철에 이 강에서의 배출 증가는 홍수를 일으킬 수 있다. 비록 그 지역이 가까운 장래에 충분한 홍수 방어력을 가지고 있지만, 해안 홍수로 인한 위협의 증가와 삼중 강 삼각주 배출의 계절적 변화는 그 지역에 증가하는 문제를 제기할 것이다.

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근본적 원인인 지구온난화 해결해야 함

국가적 차원 : 에너지 아끼기 정책, 신재생 에너지 중시, 기후협약 등 국제 협약 지키기

개인적 차원 : 실내 적정온도 유지 (과한 에어컨, 히터 사용 x), 대중교통 이용하기, 사용하지 않는 전자제품의 플러그 뽑기, 일회용품 사용하지 말기

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개발도상국과 해수면 상승

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개발도상국과 해수면 상승

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SIDS는 주로 작고 고립된 섬이며, SIDS에 사는 사람들은 종종 생계를 위해 바다에 의존한다. 이 공동체들은 일반적으로 기후 변화에 매우 심각한 영향을 받을 첫 번째 장소 중 하나로 이해된다. 기후 변화에 대해 다른 개발 문제와 고립된 것으로 생각하면, 기후 변화에 취약한 지역이 종종 자원과 시장에 대한 접근 부족, 자연 재해에 대한 노출 또는 상대적 고립과 같은 다른 오랜 비기후 관련 개발 문제에 취약하다는 것을 고려하지 못한다. 기후 변화는 SIDS에 심각한 위협을 나타내지만, 기후 변화를 고립된 위험으로 생각하기보다는, 특히 이러한 개발 문제 중 일부는 현재와 장기적으로 기후 변화의 영향에 더 취약하게 만들 수 있기 때문에 더 넓은 범위의 개발 과제를 해결하는 것이 중요하다. SIDS에 대한 연구는 취약성에 영향을 미치는 많은 상호 연결된 요인이 있다는 것을 보여주며, 그 중 기후 변화는 그 중 하나일 뿐이다. 이러한 맥락에서, 기후 변화 수사학이 실제로 다른 개발 과제를 보고 관리하는 우리의 능력을 가릴 수 있는 방법을 탐구할 수 있다. 이것의 핵심은 '취약성'의 개념이다: 기후 변화와 같은 위험한 사건에 대한 인구의 노출과 그 영향을 관리할 수 있는 능력. 이것의 일부는 '자연 재해'와 '자연 재해'가 반드시 같은 것은 아니라는 인식을 포함한다. 전자는 극단적인 사건과 그것이 일어난 후의 영향을 설명하는 반면, 후자는 극단적인 사건이 항상 사람들, 그들의 집, 생계를 위태롭게 하는 것은 아니지만, 그렇게 할 가능성이 있다는 생각을 인식한다. 인구가 그 위험에 노출되는 정도는 국가 기반 정치 시스템에 의해 내려진 결정에 크게 영향을 받으며, 결과적으로 사람들은 각각 덜 또는 더 취약해질 수 있다.