By Don Patterson
“We are continually faced with great opportunities which are brilliantly disguised as unsolvable problems.”
Margaret Mead
Learning about Watersheds was not something that I planned to do. I knew nothing about watershed ecology and management. It was introduced to me during my search for people more knowledgeable than myself.
I was not expecting visitors when Cristobal Finkelstein and Gerardo Arteaga showed up at the door after campaigning for Jesus Correa to be Mayor of San Miguel. Aware of their loyalty to PAN and the fact that I had stepped on a number of toes in the last PAN administration, their surprise visit projected negative scenarios in my head. So as we greeted in the garden entrance, I searched for clues in their behavior.
Their friendly smiles and enthusiastic handshakes reeked of door to door salesmanship – not the bearers of bad news. As I grappled at the vision of them selling me something – they did. Getting straight to the point, an unusual act for a Sanmiguelense, they asked me if I was interested in being the Municipal Director of Environment and Ecology for the new administration. They must have noticed that my jaw dropped as my mouth opened for I reminded myself to close my mouth and look cool. Then they began to sell me the idea.
Garita 12, garden entrance
While I listened I carefully considered the implications; the opportunities to fix something and the obstacles that would make it difficult. The obstacles overpowered the opportunities. It didn’t take very long for me to answer them.
“I really appreciate the offer but I am not interested.”
They left behind in the garden their enthusiasm but kept their friendly smiles and abrazos at adios.
Over the next two weeks I agonized over rejecting the offer as quickly as I did. “Maybe the obstacles were not as important as I had assumed?” And then it would dawn on me that, “There were probably many obstacles that I haven’t thought of yet” I pondered over the obstacles and here mention a few that I felt were very personal liabilities.
The main obstacle was my limited knowledge of environmental sciences. In which case, there were at least a dozen persons in San Miguel who claimed more environmental experience than me. Gerardo, the previous director had a Master’s Degree in Environmental Law from Tulane and I had trouble in even getting a weed to grow in my garden. Yet, I reasoned, I had spent the better part of my life in the wildernesses of cultural and natural resources – gallantly trying to protect them both. That had to account for something. The years I had spent in the rainforest of Mexico and Central America being paid to discover and unravel its hidden cultural treasures meant direct contact with the environment that cloaked them. Sometimes decisions had to be made quickly.
“…There I was, with less than an hour in the middle of the rainforest. I knew only a few phrases of Spanish. I had already dealt with a dead body in the river. I had a hundred workmen ravenously devouring all of the foodstuffs. I had twelve German tourists with whom I could not communicate; when they returned from the ruins they were obviously going to be anxious about their future. And finally, I had two students and Guatemalan pilots awaiting my reply.” (Journey to Xibalba-Donald Patterson)
This experience in Yaxchilan, among other places, gave me confidence I could deal with most environmental problems. Or so I rationalized.
There was also the fact that in 1992 I, along with Bob Hass the president of Audubon and Eduardo Uribe, a city councilman had lobbied the Mayor, Salvador Garcia (El Chavo), to create the first office of ecology in the municipality. The office had one employee, Rosie Nieto V. nevertheless, it was a beginning.
But then there was my age. I was closing in on my seventieth decade and boy did by body feel it. My dad use to say, “Boy, if I had known I would live so long I would have taken better care of my body when I was young.” I now realize he was being truthful. At the time I took it to mean, “You will open and close the ranch gates while I sit in the truck”. Recently, every time I looked in the mirror I was surprised to find a complete stranger in the reflection. The thinning hair on my head, along with my mustache and all the other hairs on my body were turning gray. I began to think about my mortality. The romantic notion of; working hard, playing hard and dying young was no longer an option. However, I managed 2 out of 3…not bad. Then there was my nationality. I was a gringo.
