The Cruel Cruel World

When I was little, I was facinated with nature. I would sit for hours and watch ants scurry over rocks and under leaves with food for their queen or I would gaze at lizards returning my gaze while sunning themselves in the garden. I would rescue insects that were helplessly entangled in a spider's web becasue I didn't understand why the spider was a killer and couldn't eat grass or vegetables. Only when I was older did I realize that all animals and plants fed one another. Death and re-birth were interconnected. One thing I didn't understand, and I still don't, is why anyone would take another's life for selfish reasons. No one needs rhino horns for ornaments, or tiger bones for medecinal value. What made me ost depressed was that people killed turtles for their shells. Humans are able to manufacture fake furs and colored plastic, so there shouldn't be any need to kill an animal for its fur or for any part of its body for that matter. Many people are cruel, especially children, becasue they don't understand that it is wrong to hurt another being, no matter how small that being may be.

It was a hot summer afternoon in Louisiana and the sun ,with its fierce gaze, was scorching the grass . I was watching a beetle that I had helped to its upright position , as it had landed upside down on the pavement, fly away into the summer sky. I was four years old at the time (I still can't believe I remember this) and I was playing with some of the neighborhood kids. In the middle of a game of tag, one of my friends stopped running and called us to look at something that she had discovered. So, being the curious little tykes we were, we all gathered around the sidewalk to see what she was excitedly pointing at. "Look! Look at those ants stuck in the chewing gum! They look so funny!" she squealed.

There was a large glob of pink chewing gum that had been spat onto the pavement and due to the intense heat, it had partially melted into a gooey mess. Some wandering ants had been attracted to it and had got stuck on the surface of the gum. There were about ten large red ants madly waving their antennae and flexing thieir pincers in a vain attempt to free themselves. I felt extremely sorry for them, but my friends found the whole thing quite amusing. They were saying things like "Hey! How's the sticky food down there you stupid ants?" ,and then one boy said "Here! Have a drink to go with it!" and spat on top of the ants. The rest of them spat on the ants as well and laughed. I thought that was the meanest, most disgusting thing anyone could have done and I wanted to slap them and scream at them, but I didn't. I kept quiet. I went home to my mother and cried because I felt so guilty and angry at myself about not standing up for the ants and saving them. Why didn't anyone save them? She told me that there were plenty of ants in the world and that they die everyday.

Now, when I think about it, I find the whole scenario
rather silly , but I am still like that with other animals. I still try to save bugs and other animals when they are in trouble. I hate to see animals suffer.

When I was about eleven years old, I remember watching a program about marine animals on the Discovery Channel. This particular episode was about turtles. I thought they were such beautiful creatures, so graceful and calm. The the program went on to show how turtles were killed for their flesh and shells. I never understood how anyone could film such a thing and not try to save the animal being killed. I watched a few local fishermen on some pacific island drag the turtle after it had layed its eggs and ,with a knife, cut its shell off. It was still alive. It just opened its mouth and if anyone really listened hard enough, they would have heard it crying. Then the cameraman (whom I had absolutely no respect for by this point) shot a close-up of the turtle's face and from its large round eye, which was the color of the depths of the ocean it once swam, a tear rolled down onto the sand. I was so angry at the whole idea of killing a turtle. Then the islanders dug up the turtle's eggs and took them to the village and ate them, which disgusted me even more. I just wanted to go and strangle all of them and try and save all the turtles in the world. This was, of course, impossible.

For my thirteenth birthday I asked my mother if we could go to the turtle sanctuary, which was located in the southern coast of Sri Lanka, about four hours from where I lived. There were several sanctuaries in the country, but this one was the closest. So, on the 27th of September, the day after my birthday, a few of my friends, my mother and I went to the turtle sanctuary. There were hundreds of baby turtles swimming and bobbing around in massive concrete tanks. They were all so tiny and they looked like they wanted to escape. Each turtle was trying to climb on top of another turtle to get a boost out of the tank, but the turtle being climbed on didn't seem to appreciate being used as a 'step to freedom' and would dive to the bottom of the tank, and emerged (slightly agitated) in another part of the tank.The hatchlings were so adorable and we were allowed to scoop them out of the water and hold them. They were cold against my palm, but they sent a warm surge through my veins which plinked at my heartstrings. The water was full of little ripples from the all the movement in the tanks. The baby turtles are kept in the tanks for a few weeks and then they are released into the ocean. Very few of them survive because they are eaten by predators or get dashed against rocks by large waves. There was also an albino turtle who was like a mystical white orb in the water. She couldn't be released because she was vulnerable to predators as she couldn't blend in with the environment. The caretaker said that the babies were only released at sundown. I felt so sorry for all the little turtles and I prayed that they would all survive so that their species wouldn't become extinct.

About four years ago, one of my mother's friends gave us one of her tortoises as a gift. She already had five of them and her garden was too small for a family of tortoises. Thats when Ibbie came to our home. Even though she was a bit dumpier looking and lacked the gracefulness of a sea turtle, I adored her (and I still do).Her shell is made of stars fallen from the sky and muddied by the earth. She has a quintessential air of a queen, her shell as her crown and the garden her palace. She has a wonderful personality and made me realize that animals have minds of their own and can make their own decisions. We just don't let them do so.

A year ago, I found a petition on the internet, asking people to help save a beach from urban development, off the coast of Mexico, where turtles lay their eggs every year. I felt my heart tingle. I had always wanted to do a beach clean-up project and save all the animals in the world, but I never got the chance- until that day. I sent them my name and the reason why I wanted the beach left alone. I got an instant reply from them, thanking me for caring. I felt happy that there were other people out there who love turtles more than I do. I was proud that I had, in some small way, made an effort to save a few generations of turtles.