How Much Water Would a Faucet Waste if a Faucet Could Waste Water?

I stumbled across this website, and I'm a sucker for drop-down calculators.  In this case, however, I'm looking at how much water my leaky faucet wastes.  It adds up.  One leaky faucet that drips just once per minute adds up to 34 gallons of wasted water a year.  The kitchen sink faucet in my very old apartment has a tendency to drop in the form of a small-but-steady stream if I'm not super careful to turn it off in just the right way.  If I don't catch it, every hour-and-a-half is a gallon of water down the drain.

I think I need to call my landlord...

I can't afford that

actually means, I don't value this enough to spend money on it.  I value something else more that I am not willing to sacrifice.  Save for the big-ticket items (no, I really can't afford a house at this time), there are very few everyday items that would be outside of my budget if I saved in other areas.  

 

If I want to buy local, organic produce, which supports local economies, small business, is better for the environment, and ultimately better for me, I'm probably going to have to spend a little more.  But I can probably balance that price difference by skipping a meal out once a week, or adjusting non-essentials on my grocery list.  If I want to buy organic, shade-grown, fair trade coffee, which helps preserve the rainforest and supports small local growers, I might have to shell out a bit more.  But if I make my own coffee instead of buying it at a café, I will very quickly make up the price difference.  It can cost more to buy recycled toilet paper, and it’s not a fun item for splurging.  The few extra dollars could be saved from paper towels, though, if I use rags for cleaning up instead.

As a very thrifty person, I understand the reflex to balk at anything but the best prices.  As a conscientious citizen, I understand that someone always has to pay for my discount.  In future posts, I’m excited to share with you the resources I’ve found for affordable AND sustainable options, like Community Supported Agriculture, local fruit stands, Farmers Markets, thrift stores, online venders and more.  First, however, we have to shift our paradigm as consumers from individual bargain hunting to purchasing for the planet.

Food Deserts and the First Lady

Supervalu, Walgreen and Walmart are joining Michelle Obama in the quest to bring healthy, affordable food options to communities that lack easy access to nutritious food options.  As retailers have moved out of low-income neighborhoods, families may find themselves in so-called "Food Deserts" without a local grocery store.  Often, people will rely on corner stores to feed their families, purchasing inexpensive pre-packaged goods with high calories and little nutritional value.  Obesity and poverty are increasingly linked, and the consequences to our nation are significant.  The three retailers mentioned above have committed to opening new stores in undeserved areas, providing access to the fresh fruit, vegetables, dairy, grains and and other foods that help comprise a healthy diet.

Having studied this topic in college, I applaud these retailers for their decision.  Research in this area has shown mixed results, including suggesting that providing easier access to fresh food does not actually affect an individual's lifestyle decisions.  I hope that adding a produce aisle conveniently located next to other household staples, with low prices, in a store with a familiar name will be more effective.  I've also seen The High Price of Low Cost, and am not sure how much I can endorse the expansion of Walmart, even if they are trying to help improve health outcomes for their customers.  What do you think?

Green Garbage

When I started working in my current office, I noticed that my garbage was emptied every day - even if there were only a few teabags and un-recyclable office supplies in the bin.  This means that I went through five plastic liners a week, when it probably only needed to be emptied once in the same time frame.  I made up this sign for maintenance, and a few others have followed suit:

I just taped it to the bin, and it seems to have worked!  Sure, I'm only saving four bags a week, but multiply that times approximately 50 working weeks in the year, and a tiny sign that took five minutes to create has avoided 200 plastic bags.  If four coworkers join me, that's 1,000 plastic bags a year.  Please feel free to copy this sign, or make your own.  I'm still working on getting management to endorse the idea, and my ultimate goal is to rally thousands of employees across our system to join in this simple act.  Start small, think big :)


UPDATE: see here!

Choices

It is July, 2011.  Most mornings, I wake up in my very own apartment, get in a truck to drive to work in an air-conditioned building in a gray cubicle that is a bit too small to adequately contain the volume of projects under my responsibility.  I use a brand-new laptop that is mine to take home at the end of the day to continue working through contracts.  Thanks to our California "Business Casual" dress code, I've had to upgrade my wardrobe only slightly from my college duds, and most days may be seen wearing slacks, flats, and a cardigan over a tank top.  I drink coffee and attend meetings, many meetings. 

It is during one of these meetings that I start daydreaming about a July four years ago, when I found myself as a bideshi in the city considered to have the worst urban living conditions in the world.  Bideshi is the Bengali word for a foreigner or stranger, and I certainly looked both foreign and strange during my time in Kolkata, formerly Calcutta, India.  In the summer of 2007, most mornings, I woke up in an unfinished 5th story apartment overlooking the train tracks, my mat lined up next to the fifteen others belonging to my teammates.  I shoved my way into a train car to go work in an 8x8 hut, where I sat on the floor to help 40 kids learn math and English on broken pieces of chalkboard.  I usually wore a blue salwar kameez (pants, tunic and scarf set) I picked up from a local vender, which complemented my limp brown hair and round red sweat pimples nicely.  I drank chai and spent hours, many hours sitting with teenage girls and aunties talking, laughing, painting henna designs and singing in English and Hindi.

My path towards returning to India has taken some unexpected turns. I keep a poster at my desk that shows two women from the organization I worked with, sewing handicrafts that are part of a microfinance venture.  Some days, it serves as a reminder that the work I do now helps facilitate research projects that will make a difference to these women and communities around the world.  Other days, it reminds me that I’m not in the trenches of what I really want to be doing, that I’m not making a tangible impact on the global challenges we are facing.

But a recent breakthrough has lead me here: every day, I am making a difference – for good and bad.  Thanks to our increasing global interconnectedness, we are no longer bideshis; our daily decisions impact the people living next door and halfway around the world.  It's who we vote for, where we decide to live, the career we chose to pursue.  And it's also what we eat, wear, consume, what we talk about, the words we use, and where we give our time and money.  Fair trade or regular?  Organic or conventionally grown?  Tofu or chicken? Second-hand or brand-new?  Local, global, or glocal?  I hope you’ll join me as I grapple with conscientious living choices in small moments each day.