On "Toxic Waters"

Tiredly perusing the Sunday edition of The New York Times after a full day of surfing off Morocco's coast, my eyes quickly caught the caption "Toxic Waters," followed by a searing and well researched report by The New York Times concerning the current state of our nation's water supply.

The Clean Water Act, and a host of both federal and state laws are supposed to address the dumping of contaminants in our nation's water supply, but The Times is quick to point out that not only are the laws on the book not enforced, the Environmental Protection Agency and state regulators neither have the political support nor the funds necessary to do their job, and to do it correctly.

The result is toxic water.

Please check out The New York Times project "Toxic Waters" and the lead article "Clean Water Laws Are Neglected, at a Cost in Suffering," summarizing their findings.

An interesting feature in the project allows you to "Find Water Polluters Near You."

I have provided some excerpts from The Times report below:

"An estimated one in 10 Americans have been exposed to drinking water that contains dangerous chemicals or fails to meet a federal health benchmark in other ways."

"Those exposures include carcinogens in the tap water of major American cities and unsafe chemicals in drinking-water wells. Wells, which are not typically regulated by the Safe Drinking Water Act, are more likely to contain contaminants than municipal water systems."

"Because most of today’s water pollution has no scent or taste, many people who consume dangerous chemicals do not realize it, even after they become sick, researchers say."

And what of the solution?

Well, aside from more socially conscious businesses who are unwilling to dump toxic chemicals into community waters, more resources, and actually following through with regulation and penalties, we need public pressure to enforce laws, create new ones, and clean our water supply.

I encourage everyone to contact their elected officials and voice their concern about the state of our water. We drink it every day. Think about it.

On 'Going Home'

There comes a time in any journey, when the traveler begins thinking of home. In J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, for example (and please indulge me), home beckons Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee throughout their uncertain quest, but always serves as their ultimate destination, providing clarity and a sense of purpose.

I often relate my own adventures to that of Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings for this reason, and not because I have a similar epic task bequeathed upon me—to destroy the evil embodied by the Ring of Power thereby saving humanity.

Our heroes often reflect on their separation from home. Sam, in a memorable exchange in the film version of The Fellowship of the Ring, remarks to Frodo after first leaving the Shire, “If I take one more step it’ll be the farthest away from home I’ve ever been.” Our friends are always mindful of their distance from home.

They also long to return. Sam, throughout the journey, brings Frodo out of deep and dark thoughts, with memories of home. Sam never loses sight of the company’s ultimate task—to destroy the Ring, and to return home. Frodo, on the other hand, his mind clouded by the power of the Ring, comes to a realization that home might not be their final destination. Upon leaving the valley in the Shire where he has lived his entire life, Frodo comments quietly, “I wonder if I shall ever look down into that valley again.”

In my own travels, home has always been the ultimate destination. No matter where I have traveled on my own ‘epic’ journeys in the past, whether on a service trip to El Salvador, trail-maintenance along the Appalachian Trail in Tennessee, a ROTC Leadership Training Course in Fort Knox, Kentucky, and most recently (and for the longest stint yet), a Fulbright research grant in Morocco, I have always endeavored to get there, and come back.

Although, either through choice or fate, some travelers will not arrive at the same ultimate end—home. I have met quite a few people this past year who have left home, without a plan to head back. Migrants from sub-Saharan Africa, who have made it to Morocco, will eventually attempt to start anew in Europe. Their experience is akin to the migrants from Mexico, Central and South America, making their way to the United States. Peoples have made similar journeys throughout the course of history.

The Mother of Exiles in Emma Lazarus’ “The New Colossus” cries, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.” The huddled masses depart from their homes, but do not forsake them—their memories and traditions are reborn in the United States of America.

Some have made traveling an end in and of itself. And some still, like Frodo and Sam, must leave their respective roads to fate.

The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with weary feet,

Until it joins some larger way,

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.

But whether or not one chooses home as the ultimate end or not, there is something special about the first step backward. A feeling that overcomes the traveler, knowing that no longer will she look ahead, but down the road just traveled. After smoke and ash have cleared, after completing objectives (or not), and after countless miles in the opposite direction, one thinks, “Home.”

I have chosen the title of “Going Home beta” for this blog because I want to channel this feeling and understanding in my writing. That we all have a home, and at home, we serve a purpose to our family, our friends, and our community. “Beta,” not necessarily because I am testing this theory, but because the real test comes when we finally return home, to face what we have left behind, and to begin again where we left off.

The English Jesuit, poet, and martyr, Robert Southwell writes in “I dye alive,” “Not where I breathe, but where I love, I live.” This past year, for one, has given me the clarity to know where I call home. Where I love. And where I live.

Introducing Going Home beta

With a couple months left here in Morocco, and a dearth of published (and unpublished material) on chrismolitoris.com, I have decided to refocus--or rather broaden--the message of this blog.

Morocco Road has always been about the life of one lucky Fulbright grantee here in Morocco, but over the course of this past year (September 7th marks my one year Moroccan anniversary), I have had the good fortune of traveling not only within Morocco, but to places like Jordan, Israel, Palestine, France, and Spain. I never imagined I would sit atop the fortified walls of old Jerusalem or hike portions of the Camino de Santiago.

This past year has truly been a magical, life-changing experience, made richer by friends and family who have joined me on my way. And especially by those who have supported me at home.

But, as the reader might have noticed, my adventures may not be evident, given what I have written on Morocco Road.

Where are the misadventures in Jerusalem and Palestine? The trek through the ruins of Petra in Jordan? The quest for personal discovery along the Camino de Santiago? France? Spain? And, rather, my work here in Morocco? Some might question whether or not I am actually working in Morocco. Yes. I am.

Going Home will be a new attempt at telling my story. But not just the Moroccan tale, and not just of my travels around the world. In fact, I am moving away from the travel blog model.

In Going Home, I will recount my travels, but more importantly, that which has motivated me over the course of this year, especially through long and and sometimes unpromising journeys. And in this retelling, I hope to define (largely for myself) what I stand for -- my worldview -- through a process of probing self-reflection.

Welcome to Going Home.

We are all heading somewhere. I am going home.