How do some towns stop ocean waves from pulling sand away?

They build sea walls with large rocks.

They move the ocean to a new place.

They paint the cliffs a different color.

What can happen to a rocky cliff when waves smash into the bottom of it for a long time?

The cliff becomes a sand castle.

The cliff grows taller and bigger.

Why do some towns make rules that new buildings must be built far from the water?

so they won't wash away like a sand castle

so people can see the clouds better

What happens to the beach when people build houses near the ocean?

The beach disappears and the water gets closer to the houses.

The houses move further away from the sea.

The sand turns into large boulders.

The beach grows much wider and bigger.

What are big boulders and rocks used for in the sea?

to slow down waves and stop erosion

to help people build sand castles

Into the Sea What Is Erosion? Have you ever made a sand castle at the beach? You must pick a good spot for it. If it is too close to the water, waves will quickly wash it away. Ocean waves and wind can also wash away land. They can change the shape of an island, which is land circled by water. When wind and water change the shape of Earth, it is called erosion. Waves are the biggest cause of erosion at the beach. Ocean waves are always active and moving onto the shore. They carry the sand away bit by bit. Strong waves are one of the properties of big storms. These waves explode as they crash onto the beach. Storm waves can move a lot of sand quickly. Erosion of Beaches. Some people build houses near the ocean. Waves take away the sand between the houses and the sea. As the beach disappears, the water gets closer to houses and other solid buildings on the beach. Some buildings can even be washed away. Erosion of Rocks. Erosion also happens on steep, rocky cliffs or sharp slopes. First, waves smash into the bottom of the cliffs. Then they carry away tiny pieces of rock. Over time, many small pieces of rock wash away from the bottom of the cliff. This makes the top of the cliff weak.The cliff can crumble and fall into the sea. Stopping Erosion. Some local communities work to stop erosion to nearby beaches. These towns have built sea walls of large boulders or rocks. The rocks are placed in a row in the sea. When waves hit the sea wall, they slow down. Then the waves can't pull sand away.Some towns make rules about buildings on the beach. New buildings must be far from the water. Then they won't wash away like a sand castle.

Soils Southeast Asia, on balance, has a higher proportion of relatively fertile soils than most tropical regions, and soil erosion is less severe than elsewhere. Much of the region, however, is covered by tropical soils that generally are quite poor in nutrients. Often the profusion of plant life is more related to heat and moisture than to soil quality, even though these climatic conditions intensify both chemical weathering and the rate of bacterial action that usually improve soil fertility. Once the vegetation cover is removed, the supply of humus quickly disappears. In addition, the often heavy rainfall leaches the soils of their soluble nutrients, hastens erosion, and damages the soil texture. The leaching process in part results in laterites of reddish clay that contain hydroxides of iron and alumina. Laterite soils are common in parts of Myanmar, Thailand, and Vietnam and also occur in the islands of the Sunda Shelf, notably Borneo. The most fertile soils occur in regions of volcanic activity, where the ejecta is chemically alkaline or neutral. Such soils are found in parts of Sumatra and much of Java in Indonesia. The alluvial soils of the river valleys also are highly fertile and are intensively cultivated. Climate All of Southeast Asia falls within the warm, humid tropics, and its climate generally can be characterized as monsoonal (i.e., marked by wet and dry periods). Changing seasons are more associated with rainfall than with temperature variations. There is, however, a high degree of climatic complexity within the region. Temperatures Regional temperatures at or near sea level remain fairly constant throughout the year, although monthly averages tend to vary more with increasing latitude. Thus, with the exception of northern Vietnam, annual average temperatures are close to 80 °F (27 °C). Increasing elevation acts to decrease average temperatures, and such locations as the Cameron Highlands in peninsular Malaysia and Baguio in the Philippines have become popular tourist destinations in part because of their relatively cooler climates. Proximity to the sea also tends to moderate temperatures. Precipitation Much of Southeast Asia receives more than 60 inches (1,500 millimeters) of rainfall annually, and many areas commonly receive double and even triple that amount. The rainfall pattern is distinctly affected by two prevailing air currents: the northeast (or dry) monsoon and the southwest (or wet) monsoon. The northeast monsoon occurs roughly from November to March and brings relatively dry, cool air and little precipitation to the mainland. As the southwestward-flowing air passes over the warmer sea, it gradually warms and gathers moisture. Precipitation is especially heavy where the airstream is forced to rise over mountains or encounters a landmass. The east coast of peninsular Malaysia, the Philippines, and parts of eastern Indonesia receive the heaviest rains during this period. The southwest monsoon prevails from May to September, when the air current reverses and the dominant flow is to the northeast. The mainland receives the bulk of its rainfall during this period. Over much of the southern Malay Peninsula and insular Southeast Asia there is little or no prolonged dry season. This is especially marked in much of the equatorial region and along the east coast of the Philippines. While the dry and wet monsoons are important in explaining rainfall patterns, so too are such factors as relief, land and sea breezes, convectional overturning and cyclonic disturbances. These factors often are combined with monsoonal effects to produce highly variable rainfall patterns over relatively short distances. While many of the cyclonic disturbances produce only moderate rainfall, others mature into tropical storms—called cyclones in the Indian Ocean and typhoons in the Pacific—that bring heavy rains and destruction to the areas over which they pass. The Philippines are particularly affected by these storms. Plant life Tropical forests in Southeast Asia Tropical forests in Southeast Asia The seasonal nature and pattern of Southeast Asia’s rainfall, as well as the region’s physiography, have strongly affected the development of natural vegetation. The hot, humid climate and enormous variety of habitats have given rise to an abundance and diversity of vegetative forms unlike that in any other area of the world. Much of the natural vegetation has been modified by human action, although large areas of relatively untouched land still can be found. The vegetation can be grouped into two broad categories: the tropical-evergreen forests of the equatorial lowlands and the open type of tropical-deciduous, or “monsoon,” forests in areas of seasonal drought. The evergreen forests are characterized by multiple stories of vegetation, consisting of a variety of trees and plants. Although a large diversity of tree species is found in these forests, members of the Dipterocarpaceae family account for roughly half of the varieties. Deciduous forests are found in eastern Indonesia and those parts of the mainland where annual rainfall does not exceed 80 inches. Just as in the equatorial forest, a wide variety of species is normally the rule. Certain species, such as teak, have become highly valued commercially. Teak is found in parts of Indonesia, Myanmar, Thailand, and Laos. In addition to these two basic types of vegetation, other regional patterns reflect topography. Especially noteworthy are coastal and highland plant communities. Mangrove belts, of which there are more than 30 varieties, occur where silt is deposited in coastal areas. Upland forests dominated by maples, oaks, and magnolias are found especially on mainland mountain slopes. Human activity has been rapidly altering the stands of virgin forest in Southeast Asia. Most deforestation results from removal for fuelwood and clearing for agriculture and grazing. Although only a relatively small portion of the total land area has been permanently cleared for cultivation—e.g., in Java (Indonesia) and western Luzon (the Philippines)—in some areas shifting cultivation has brought about the replacement of virgin forest with secondary growth. In addition, nearly all countries have commercial logging industries; notable are those in Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand, and Myanmar. A growing problem has been illegal logging. Thus, timber harvesting has come to contribute significantly to deforestation. Programs in social forestry and reforestation have yet to halt the rapid denuding of the landscape. Animal life Southeast Asia is situated where two major divisions of the world’s fauna meet. The region itself constitutes the eastern half of what is called the Oriental, or Indian, zoogeographic region (part of the much larger realm of Megagaea). Bordering along the south and east is the Australian zoogeographic region, and the eastern portion of insular Southeast Asia—Celebes (Sulawesi), the Moluccas, and the Lesser Sunda Islands—constitutes a transition zone between these two faunal regions. a classroom in Brazil More From Britannica education: Southeast Asia Southeast Asia is notable, therefore, for a considerable diversity of wildlife throughout the region. These differences are especially striking between the species of the eastern and western fringes as well as between those of the archipelagic south and the mainland north. The differences stem largely from the isolation, over varying lengths of geologic time, of species following their migration from the Asian continent. In addition, the tropical rain forests in many parts of the region, with their great diversity of vegetation, have made possible the development of complex communities of animals that fill specialized ecological niches. Especially numerous are arboreal and flying creatures. orangutans orangutansOrangutans (Pongo pygmaeus) in Sumatra, Indonesia. The distinction between the two faunal regions is best depicted by their mammal populations. In general, Australia is inhabited largely by marsupials (pouched mammals) and monotremes (egg-laying mammals), while Southeast Asia contains placental mammals and such hybrid species as the bandicoot of eastern Indonesia. Small mammals such as monkeys and shrews are the most numerous, while in many areas the larger mammals have been pushed into more remote areas and national preserves. Bears, gibbons, elephants, deer, civets, and pigs are found in both mainland and insular Southeast Asia, as are diminishing numbers of tigers. The Malayan tapir, a relative of the rhinoceros, is native to the Malay Peninsula and Sumatra, while the tarsier is found in the Philippines and parts of Indonesia. A number of rare endemic species are found in Indonesia and East (insular) Malaysia, including the Sumatran and Javan rhinoceros, the orangutan, the anoa (a dwarf buffalo), the babirusa (a wild swine), and the palm civet. As the pace of development accelerates and populations continue to expand in Southeast Asia, concern has increased regarding the impact of human activity on the region’s environment. A significant portion of Southeast Asia, however, has not changed greatly and remains an unaltered home to wildlife. The nations of the region, with only few exceptions, have become aware of the need to maintain forest cover not only to prevent soil erosion but to preserve the diversity of flora and fauna. Indonesia, for example, has created an extensive system of national parks and preserves for this purpose. Even so, such species as the Javan rhinoceros face extinction, with only a handful of the animals remaining in western Java

Marine and Coastal Processes.What are the hazards that usually occur along marine and coastal areas? Coastal processes, such as waves, tides, sea level changes, crustal movement, and storm surges will result to coastal erosion, submersion, and saltwater intrusion. Coastal Erosion. Coastal erosion is the wearing down of the coastlines by the movement of wind and water. It is not a constant process; instead, the rate of erosion depends on other events such as cyclones. When cyclones occur along coastal areas, the winds and waves carry the sediment away from the shoreline. Shorelines play an important role to society. They are used in transportation, fishing, and tourism. Therefore, preventing coastal erosion is of utmost priority. There are three main classifications of stabilizing the shoreline: hard stabilization, soft stabilization, and retreat. 1. Hard stabilization is done by building structures that will slow down the erosion on areas that are prone to erosion. Examples of hard stabilization structures are jetties, sea walls, and breakwaters. Though they may slow down the erosion in one area, it may hasten the erosion in other areas. 2. Soft stabilization includes the process of beach nourishment, wherein sand from an offshore location is brought to an area with a receding shoreline. It does not make use of structures like the ones used in hard stabilization. 3. Retreat is the option taken by residents near areas where coastal erosion is already severe. At this point, the authorities no longer attempt to save the shoreline but rather limit the amount of human interference in the area. Submersion. Coastal erosion happens because of the interaction of the winds and waves on the shoreline. Submersion, on the other hand, happens because of the changes in the sea level, specifically, when it rises dangerously above the normal level. This is all due to the increase in the global temperature, which, in turn, melts the glacial deposits and increases the overall sea level. Another factor that may cause submersion is the vertical movement of the plates. Landmasses can be uplifted, which can also cause changes in the sea level. It can also be caused by tsunamis and storm surges. Submersion will most likely occur in reclaimed lands. These are the areas that were originally part of oceans, riverbeds, or lakebeds. They are low-lying flatlands, so even a small rise in sea level can cause great damage on the land. To prevent this from happening not only in reclaimed lands but also in coastal areas, a hard stabilization technique is used. Sea walls are built along the coastline to protect the land from being easily flooded. Aside from sea walls, dikes can also help prevent flooding. The government can also upgrade the infrastructures built in coastal areas, regenerate mangroves, or relocate the people. There are also other proposed strategies to mitigate coastal submersion, such as imposing of setback policies and construction regulations and creating adaptive plans for coastal management. Saltwater Intrusion. In coastal areas where there is an interaction between saltwater and fresh water, saltwater intrusion is one of the hazards that are evident in that area. Saltwater intrusion is the movement of saltwater into the freshwater aquifer. The natural flow is that the fresh water, which is less dense, moves towards the denser saltwater. But if the fresh water is being withdrawn faster than it is being replenished, then there will be a change in pressure and saltwater intrusion will occur.There are a few ways of preventing saltwater intrusion. One is to stop using the well where fresh water has been depleted and let the groundwater replenish naturally via the water cycle. The other method is to build two wells: a pumping well-built farther inland and an injection well-built closer to the coast. Using the injection well, fresh water is pumped into the aquifer to prevent the saltwater from intruding. The different marine and coastal hazards often occur in the Philippines, being an archipelago with the longest coastline. Manila Bay is one of the coastal areas of the Philippines that is facing various threats from both natural and anthropological causes. Saltwater intrusion occurs due to uncontrolled withdrawal of groundwater to be used by residential, commercial, and industrial areas built around the bay. It is also frequently flooded due to poor drainage systems and improper disposal of waste. Since Manila Bay is shared by four coastal provinces, four noncoastal provinces, and the National Capital Region, each local government unit and national agencies need to collaborate in planning, developing, and managing its marine and coastal resources. And it is not only Manila Bay but other parts as well, for as long as they are in coastal areas, hazards will mostly likely occur if not immediately addressed.

Mexico Where Is It? Mexico is a country in North America. To the north of it is the United States. To the south of it is Central America. To the east and west of Mexico is the sea. More than 120 million people live in Mexico. Most of them live in cities. The capital of Mexico is Mexico City. It is one of the oldest cities in North America. It also has more people than any other city in North America! People. Most people in Mexico speak Spanish. More people speak Spanish in Mexico than anywhere else. Land. Mountains and canyons cover much of Mexico. Dry deserts are in the north. Forests cover land to the south. Two pieces of land stretch into the ocean. Baja (BAH-hah) is like a long finger. Yucatán (yoo-kah-TAHN) is more like a thumb. Animals. Many different animals call Mexico home. Parrots, frogs, and many other animals live in the hot, wet forests. Foxes, lizards, and other animals live in the hot, dry deserts. Celebrations. People in Mexico celebrate many special days. The Day of the Dead lasts three days. It is a happy time. People remember their loved ones. They light candles and wear masks. People also remember the day long ago when Mexico began its fight to be free. They dress up and walk in parades. They light fireworks to celebrate.Food. Corn is an important food in Mexico. It is in almost every meal. People in Mexico also eat parts of cactus. They eat chicken and pork. Some people eat food from the sea. People in Mexico often use peppers in their food. Some peppers are hot, like chile (CHIH-lee) peppers. Some peppers just make food taste different. Conclusion. Mexico is an exciting country. Many different people and animals live there. What is your favorite thing about Mexico?

She went by the name of Belisa Crepusculario, not because she had been baptized with that name or given it by her mother, but because she herself had searched until she found the poetry of "beauty" and "twilight" and cloaked herself in it. She made her living selling words. She journeyed through the country from the high cold mountains to the burning coasts, stopping at fairs and in markets where she set up four poles covered by a canvas awning under which she took refuge from the sun and rain to minister to her customers. She did not have to peddle her merchandise because from having wandered far and near, everyone knew who she was. Some people waited for her from one year to the next, and when she appeared in the village with her bundle beneath her arm, they would form a line in front of her stall. Her prices were fair. For five centavos she delivered verses from memory, for seven she improved the quality of dreams, for nine she wrote love letters, for twelve she invented insults for irreconcilable enemies. She also sold stories, not fantasies but long, true stories she recited at one telling, never skipping a word. This is how she carried news from one town to another. People paid her to add a line or two: our son was born, so-and-so died, our children got married, the crops burned in the field. Wherever she went a small crowd gathered around to listen as she began to speak, and that was how they learned about each others' doings, about distant relatives, about what was going on in the civil war. To anyone who paid her fifty centavos in trade, she gave the gift of a secret word to drive away melancholy. It was not the same word for everyone, naturally, because that would have been collective dece it. Each person received his or her own word, with the assurance that no one else would use it that way in this universe or the Beyond. Belisa Crepusculario had been born into a family so poor they did not even have names to give their children. She came into the world and grew up in an inhospitable land where some years the rains became avalanches of water that bore everything away before them and others when not a drop fell from the sky and the sun swelled to fill the horizon and the world became a desert. Until she was twelve, Belisa had no occupation or virtue other than having withstood hunger and the exhaustion of centuries. During one interminable drought, it fell to her to bury four younger brothers and sisters, when she realized that her turn was next, she decided to set out across the 2 plains in the direction of the sea, in hopes that she might trick death along the way. The land was eroded, split with deep cracks, strewn with rocks, fossils of trees and thorny bushes, and skeletons of animals bleached by the sun. From time to time she ran into families who, like her, were heading south, following the mirage of water. Some had begun the march carrying their belongings on their back or in small carts, but they could barely move their own bones, and after a while they had to abandon their possessions. They dragged themselves along painfully, their skin turned to lizard hide and their eyes burned by the reverberating glare. Belisa greeted them with a wave as she passed, but she did not stop, because she had no strength to waste in acts of compassion. Many people fell by the wayside, but she was so stubborn that she survived to cross through that hell and at long last reach the first trickles of water, fine, almost invisible threads that fed spindly vegetation and farther down widened into small streams and marshes. Belisa Crepusculario saved her life and in the process accidentally discovered writing. In a village near the coast, the wind blew a page of newspaper at her feet. She picked up the brittle yellow paper and stood a long while looking at it, unable to determine its purpose, until curiosity overcame her shyness. She walked over to a man who was washing his horse in the muddy pool where she had quenched her thirst. "What is this?" she asked. "The sports page of the newspaper," the man replied, concealing his surprise at her ignorance. The answer astounded the girl, but she did not want to seem rude, so she merely inquired about the significance of the fly tracks scattered across the page. "Those are words, child. Here it says that Fulgencio Barba knocked out El Negro Tiznao in the third round." That was the day Belisa Crepusculario found out that words make their way in the world without a master, and that anyone with a little cleverness can appropriate them and do business with them. She made a quick assessment of her situation and concluded that aside from becoming a prostitute or working as a servant in the kitchens of the rich there were few occupations she was qualified for. It seemed to her that selling words would be an honorable alternative. From that moment on, she worked at that profession, and was never tempted by any other. At the beginning, she offered her merchandise unaware that words could be written outside of newspapers. When she learned otherwise, she calculated the infinite possibilities of her trade and with her savings paid a priest twenty pesos to teach her to read and write, with her three 3 remaining coins she bought a dictionary. She poured over it from A to Z and then threw it into the sea, because it was not her intention to defraud her customers with packaged words. One August morning several years later, Belisa Crepusculario was sitting in her tent in the middle of a plaza, surrounded by the uproar of market day, selling legal arguments to an old man who had been trying for sixteen years to get his pension. Suddenly she heard yelling and thudding hoofbeats. She looked up from her writing and saw, first, a cloud of dust, and then a band of horsemen come galloping into the plaza. They were the Colonel's men, sent under orders of El Mulato, a giant known throughout the land for the speed of his knife and his loyalty to his chief. Both the Colonel and El Mulato had spent their lives fighting in the civil war, and their names were ineradicably linked to devastation and calamity. The rebels swept into town like a stampeding herd, wrapped in noise, bathed in sweat, and leaving a hurricane of fear in their trail. Chickens took wing, dogs ran for their lives, women and children scurried out of sight, until the only living soul left in the market was Belisa Crepusculario. She had never seen El Mulato and was surprised to see him walking toward her. "I'm looking for you," he shouted, pointing his coiled whip at her, even before the words were out, two men rushed her -- knocking over her canopy and shattering her inkwell -- bound her hand and foot, and threw her like a sea bag across the rump of El Mulato's mount. Then they thundered off toward the hills. Hours later, just as Belisa Crepusculario was near death, her heart ground to sand by the pounding of the horse, they stopped, and four strong hands set her down. She tried to stand on her feet and hold her head high, but her strength failed her and she slumped to the ground, sinking into a confused dream. She awakened several hours later to the murmur of night in the camp, but before she had time to sort out the sounds, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into the impatient glare of El Mulato, kneeling beside her. "Well, woman, at last you've come to," he said. To speed her to her senses, he tipped his canteen and offered her a sip of liquor laced with gunpowder. She demanded to know the reason for such rough treatment, and El Mulato explained that the Colonel needed her services. He allowed her to splash water on her face, and then led her to the far end of the camp where the most feared man in all the land was lazing in a hammock strung between two trees. She could not see his face, because he lay in the deceptive shadow of the leaves and the indelible shadow of all his years as a bandit, but she imagined from the way his 4 gigantic aide addressed him with such humility that he must have a very menacing expression. She was surprised by the Colonel's voice, as soft and well-modulated as a professor's. "Are you the woman who sells words?" he asked. "At your service," she stammered, peering into the dark and trying to see him better. The Colonel stood up, and turned straight toward her. She saw dark skin and the eyes of a ferocious puma, and she knew immediately that she was standing before the loneliest man in the world. "I want to be President," he announced. The Colonel was weary of riding across that godforsaken land, waging useless wars and suffering defeats that no subterfuge could transform into victories. For years he had been sleeping in the open air, bitten by mosquitoes, eating iguanas and snake soup, but those minor inconveniences were not why he wanted to change his destiny. What truly troubled him was the terror he saw in people's eyes. He longed to ride into a town beneath a triumphal arch with bright flags and flowers everywhere, he wanted to be cheered, and be given newly laid eggs and freshly baked bread. Men fled at the sight of him, children trembled, and women miscarried from fright, he had had enough, and so he had decided to become President. El Mulato had suggested that they ride to the capital, gallop up to the Palace, and take over the government, the way they had taken so many other things without anyone's permission. The Colonel, however, did not want to be just another tyrant, there had been enough of those before him and, besides, if he did that, he would never win people's hearts. It was his aspiration to win the popular vote in the December elections. "To do that, I have to talk like a candidate. Can you sell me the words for a speech?" the Colonel asked Belisa Crepusculario. She had accepted many assignments, but none like this. She did not dare refuse, fearing that El Mulato would shoot her between the eyes, or worse still, that the Colonel would burst into tears. There was more to it than that, however, she felt the urge to help him because she felt a throbbing warmth beneath her skin, a powerful desire to touch that man, to fondle him, to clasp him in her arms. All night and a good part of the following day, Belisa Crepusculario searched her repertory for words adequate for a presidential speech, closely watched by El Mulato, who could not take his eyes from her firm wanderer's legs and virginal breasts. She discarded harsh, cold words, words 5 that were too flowery, words worn from abuse, words that offered improbable promises, untruthful and confusing words, until all she had left were words sure to touch the minds of men and women's intuition. Calling upon the knowledge she had purchased from the priest for twenty pesos, she wrote the speech on a sheet of paper and then signaled El Mulato to untie the rope that bound her ankles to a tree. He led her once more to the Colonel, and again she felt the throbbing anxiety that had seized her when she first saw him. She handed him the paper and waited while he looked at it, holding it gingerly between thumbs and fingertips. "What the shit does this say," he asked finally. "Don't you know how to read?" "War's what I know," he replied. She read the speech aloud. She read it three times, so her client could engrave it on his memory. When she finished, she saw the emotion in the faces of the soldiers who had gathered round to listen, and saw that the Colonel's eyes glittered with enthusiasm, convinced that with those words the presidential chair would be his. "If after they've heard it three times, the boys are still standing there with their mouths hanging open, it must mean the thing's damn good, Colonel" was El Mulato's approval. "All right, woman. How much do I owe you?" the leader asked. "One peso, Colonel." "That's not much," he said, opening the pouch he wore at his belt, heavy with proceeds from the last foray. "The peso entitles you to a bonus. I'm going to give you two secret words," said Belisa Crepusculario. "What for?" She explained that for every fifty centavos a client paid, she gave him the gift of a word for his exclusive use. The Colonel shrugged. He had no interest at all in her offer, but he did not want to be impolite to someone who had served him so well. She walked slowly to the leather stool where he was sitting, and bent down to give him her gift. The man smelled the scent of a mountain cat issuing from the woman, a fiery heat radiating from her hips, he heard the terrible whisper of her hair, and a breath of sweetmint murmured into his ear the two secret words that were his alone. "They are yours, Colonel," she said as she stepped back. "You may use them as much as you 6 please." El Mulato accompanied Belisa to the roadside, his eyes as entreating as a stray dog's, but when he reached out to touch her, he was stopped by an avalanche of words he had never heard before; believing them to be an irrevocable curse, the flame of his desire was extinguished. During the months of September, October, and November the Colonel delivered his speech so many times that had it not been crafted from glowing and durable words it would have turned to ash as he spoke. He travelled up and down and across the country, riding into cities with a triumphal air, stopping in even the most forgotten villages where only the dump heap betrayed a human presence, to convince his fellow citizens to vote for him. While he spoke from a platform erected in the middle of the plaza, El Mulato and his men handed out sweets and painted his name on all the walls in gold frost. No one paid the least attention to those advertising ploys; they were dazzled by the clarity of the Colonel's proposals and the poetic lucidity of his arguments, infected by his powerful wish to right the wrongs of history, happy for the first time in their lives. When the Candidate had finished his speech, his soldiers would fire their pistols into the air and set off firecrackers, and when finally they rode off, they left behind a wake of hope that lingered for days on the air, like the splendid memory of a comet's tail. Soon the Colonel was the favorite. No one had ever witnessed such a phenomenon: a man who surfaced from the civil war, covered with scars and speaking like a professor, a man whose fame spread to every corner of the land and captured the nation's heart. The press focused their attention on him. Newspapermen came from far away to interview him and repeat his phrases, and the number of his followers and enemies continued to grow. "We're doing great, Colonel," said El Mulato, after twelve successful weeks of campaigning. But the Candidate did not hear. He was repeating his secret words, as he did more and more obsessively. He said them when he was mellow with nostalgia; he murmured them in his sleep; he carried them with him on horseback; he thought them before delivering his famous speech; and he caught himself savoring them in his leisure time. And every time he thought of those two words, he thought of Belisa Crepusculario, and his senses were inflamed with the memory of her feral scent, her fiery heat, the whisper of her hair, and her sweetmint breath in his ear, until he began to go around like a sleepwalker, and his men realized that he might die before he ever sat in the presidential chair. "What's got hold of you, Colonel," El Mulato asked so often that finally one day his chief broke 7 down and told him the source of his befuddlement: those two words that were buried like two daggers in his gut. "Tell me what they are and maybe they'll lose their magic," his faithful aide suggested. "I can't tell them, they're for me alone," the Colonel replied. Saddened by watching his chief decline like a man with a death sentence on his head, El Mulato slung his rifle over his shoulder and set out to find Belisa Crepusculario. He followed her trail through all that vast country, until he found her in a village in the far south, sitting under her tent reciting her rosary of news. He planted himself, spraddle-legged, before her, weapon in hand. "You! You're coming with me," he ordered. She had been waiting. She picked up her inkwell, folded the canvas of her small stall, arranged her shawl around her shoulders, and without a word took her place behind El Mulato's saddle. They did not exchange so much as a word in all the trip; El Mulato's desire for her had turned into rage, and only his fear of her tongue prevented his cutting her to shreds with his whip. Nor was he inclined to tell her that the Colonel was in a fog, and that a spell whispered into his ear had done what years of battle had not been able to do. Three days later they arrived at the encampment, and immediately, in view of all the troops, El Mulato led his prisoner before the Candidate. "I brought this witch here so you can give her back her words, Colonel," El Mulato said, pointing the barrel of his rifle at the woman's head. "And then she can give you back your manhood." The Colonel and Belisa Crepusculario stared at each other, measuring one another from a distance. The men knew then that their leader would never undo the witchcraft of those accursed words, because the whole world could see the voracious-puma eyes soften as the woman walked to him and took his hand in hers. Copyright © 1989 by Isabel Allende From The Stories of Eva Luna, Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden

Yaama I'm Jack Evans and you're watching BTN. Here's what's coming up. We uncover the story behind this famous photo, learn about First Nations seasons and find out the history of Book Week. What is Statehood? Reporter: Tatenda Chibika INTRO: But first, the Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has announced that Australia will join other countries in recognising Palestine as an independent state. So, what does that mean? Tatenda found out. Anthony Albanese, Prime Minister: Australia will recognise the state of Palestine. Australia will recognise the right of the Palestinian people to a state of their own. We will work with the international community to make this right a reality. Tatenda Chibika, Reporter: That's the moment our Prime Minister said Australia would recognise Palestine as an independent state at the upcoming United Nations General assembly next month. It's something other countries, including France and Canada, have said they'll be doing too. So, what does that mean exactly? To be considered an independent state under international law a place needs to have its own land or territories with defined borders, it needs to have people who permanently live there, have a working government and it has to be able to talk and make deals with other countries. Once a place meets all those rules, it can ask to be recognised by other independent states and countries. But a big step in becoming an independent state is being fully recognised by the United Nations. To do that you first need to get approval from at least nine members of the UN's Security Council. That's a group of countries responsible for maintaining international peace and security. But even then, that tick of approval can still be blocked by one of the Security Council's five permanent members Russia, China, the UK, the US and France. If the Security Council approves, the decision then goes to the UN's General Assembly where at least two thirds of the UN's 193 members have to agree to make it official. Yeah, it's a pretty complex process which is why we've only seen a handful of countries recognised by the UN in recent years like South Sudan and Montenegro. Others like Kosovo are only 'partially' recognised which means they have some recognition but not enough to become a full member state at the UN. Right now, Palestine is recognised by more than 140 countries — that's more than two thirds of the UN General Assembly. So, why hasn't it become a UN member state yet? Well, it came pretty close last year when 12 members of the Security Council voted in favour of it. VANESSA FRAZIER, AMBASSADOR OF MALTA, APRIL 2024 UNSC PRESIDENT: I shall now put the draft resolution to the vote. But the US, a close ally to Israel, used its special powers to block Palestine from becoming a member state. VANESSA FRAZIER: Those against? At the time, the U.S said Palestine and Israel needed to come to an agreement on their own first. Throughout the years, there have been attempts to figure out a way for both Palestine and Israel to exist peacefully alongside each other but that hasn't happened yet. And now Israel has said that recognising Palestine as an independent state would be rewarding Hamas the group in charge of Gaza which was responsible for the terror attacks on October 7th, 2023. But the Palestinian Authority which governs parts of the West Bank says Hamas won't have a role in any future state of Palestine which will exist peacefully alongside Israel. Australia, like the US, had previously said that it wanted Israel and Palestine to figure out things by themselves first but because of how the war has been going the Australian government is worried that if it continues to wait, there might not be a Palestinian state to recognise. ANTHONY ALBANESE, PRIME MINISTER: There has been too many lives lost, both Israeli's and Palestinians and the world is saying we need a solution to this conflict, we need to end the cycle of violence and the way to do that is to have a two-state solution. News Quiz Russia's President Vladimir Putin stepped foot on American Soil for the first time in a decade to meet with US President Donald Trump. What state did they meet in? Alabama, Alaska or Arizona?It's Alaska. The two leaders met to discuss a way to end the war in Ukraine but weren't able to make any final agreements. DONALD TRUMP, US PRESIDENT: There were many, many points that we agreed on. Most of them, I would say, a couple of big ones, that we haven't quite got there, but we've made some headway. There's no deal until there's a deal. A lot of people criticised the two world leaders for not including Ukraine's president Volodymyr Zelenskyy in the meeting. But that didn't seem to worry Mr Trump who said the meeting was a success and Mr Putin even invited the US President to meet up again in Russia. DONALD TRUMP: We'll see you again very soon. Thank you very much, Vladimir. VLADIMIR PUTIN, RUSSIAN PRESIDENT: Next time in Moscow. DONALD TRUMP: Oh, that's an interesting one. No, no, no. I'll get a little heat on that one. Last week thousands of people marked the 80th anniversary of VJ Day. What does VJ Day commemorate? The victory of Allied forces in Europe, the surrender of Japan and the end of World War II or the dropping of the first atomic bomb? VJ Day or Victory over Japan day commemorates the surrender of Japan and the end of World War II on the 15th of August 1945. Around the world, and here in Australia, people marked the anniversary with ceremonies remembering those who fought in the war. REPORTER: Who will you be remembering today? VETERAN: Oh, a lot of fellows that I knew that never made it home. Scientists in the UK have created toothpaste that includes which of these ingredients? Hair, eye lashes or fingernails? Yeah, they're all a bit random and gross but the answer is hair. According to scientists from King's College in London, hair could be the key to good oral health because it contains a protein called Keratin which they say when mixed with saliva forms a crystal-like protective coating similar to enamel. And Swifties rejoice because Taylor Swift has announced her 12th Studio album. It's called life of a show what? Is it show pony, show girl or show bag? It's Life of a Showgirl and it'll be released October 3rd. Vincent Lingiari Reporter: Joseph Baronio INTRO: Now to this very famous photograph. It was taken 50 years ago and depicts a really significant moment in Australian history. Joe found out about the story behind it. On the 16th of August 1975, this famous photo was taken. It shows the former Prime Minister Gough Whitlam pouring sand into the hand of Aboriginal leader Vincent Lingiari. A simple gesture that symbolised handing the land at Wave Hill in the Northern Territory back to the Gurindji people. But the journey to get there was far from simple. It started back in the 1960s. At the time, Wave Hill was the biggest cattle station in the world, controlled by British landowner Lord Vestey. The Gurindji people, who had lived on the land for generations, worked for Vestey, but they weren't paid fairly, and conditions were tough. NEWS REPORTER: The station's 100 aboriginal stockmen, with their 100 dependents, are camped in the dry bed of the Victoria River with little shade from 90-degree heat, dust and flies. Eventually, Gurindji leader Vincent Lingiari said it was time to act. VINCENT LINGIARI: I said, "What was it before Lord Vestey born and I was born?" It was blackfella country. So, on August 23rd, 1966, Mr Lingiari and his fellow Aboriginal workers went on strike. It became known as the Wave Hill Walk Off. They moved their camp away from the Wave Hill station to a sacred site called Daguragu on Wattie Creek. They wanted to set up their own cattle station, and said they wouldn't move until their land was returned to them. For years, petitions and negotiations went on between the Gurindji people, the NT Administration, and the Australian Government in Canberra. CLAPPERS: 31. 32. 33. DAVID QUINN, ABSCOL: Well, it's basic justice that their land is recognised. PROTESTORS: Equal rights! As the news spread across the country, thousands of Aussies joined the campaign, including the leader of the Labor Party, Gough Whitlam, who made this promise during his 1972 election campaign. GOUGH WHITLAM: We will legislate to give Aborigines land rights. Not just because their case is beyond argument, but because all of us as Australians are diminished, while the Aborigines are denied their rightful place in this nation. Later that year, Gough Whitlam became Prime Minister. (Song From Little Things Big Things Grow, Song by Kev Carmody and Paul Kelly, 1993) From little things big things grow,from little things big things grow… But it wasn't until 1975, 9 years after the Wave Hill Walk Off started, that he followed through with his promise. Eight years went by, eight long years of waiting'Til one day a tall stranger appeared in the landAnd he came with lawyers and he came with great ceremony GOUGH WHITLAM: I solemnly hand to you these deeds as proof in Australian law that these lands belong to the Gurindji people. And through Vincent's fingers poured a handful of sandFrom little things big things grow 50 years on, and The Wave Hill Walk Off is seen as a pivotal moment in Australia's history. It led to significant legal and social changes for First Nations people, which is something many agree is worth celebrating. First Nations Seasons Reporter: Saskia Mortarotti INTRO: Recently, Melbourne's Lord Mayor suggested ditching the four-season calendar that most of us are familiar with and adopting a six-season Wurundjeri calendar instead saying it gives a better description of what the weather's actually like there. Sas found out more about the different seasonal calendars used by First Nations people. SASKIA MORTAROTTI, REPORTER: Right now, in most of the country, it's pretty cold. COLD GIRL: Think of somewhere warm. What? It's 32 degrees in Darwin in the middle of winter? But ah, yeah. There are some places where it's, well, quite warm. Which makes you wonder whether the weather actually matches the seasons. You see, Australia is pretty big, and we have lots of different weather patterns. Which is something First Nations people have tracked for thousands of years with their own seasonal calendars. KARL WINDA TELFER, CULTURAL CREATIVE KANYANYAPILLA: Why have we got four seasons when you know that don't make any sense here. It doesn't relate to the country here. This is Karl Telfer. He's an artist and storyteller who produced the Kuri Kurru exhibition at the Museum of Discovery in Adelaide that explores the 6 different seasons of the Kaurna Meyunna. SASKIA MORTAROTTI: So, how do you know when you're in one of those six seasons? KARL WINDA TELFER: Well, there are stars that rise. So, you know, there are certain stars, like in Parnatti, for example. There's a star called Parna, and we know what that star is. So, that talks to us about, okay, the time now is going to be cold on the ground. First Nations calendars like the Kaurna one don't just tell us what's happening with the weather; they're also used to track when certain plants and animals are around. KARL WINDA TELFER: It teaches you about what plants you can, you know, what you can eat what you can't and all that what is ready certain times a year and fruit everything, bird shows you the right time to eat the fruit, perfect time, if you try and go get them the next week they're gone. Karl says we can also use these calendars to see how the environment has changed over time. KARL WINDA TELFER: Kudlilla is the season we're in now and Kudlilla that talks about like the rain but we're not having enough rain these days, well, these times. And this is due to climate and the climate changing. There are many different First Nations seasonal calendars around the country. Like Ngan'gi calendar from the Northern Territory which has 13 seasons that follow the life cycle of the native spear grass. Or the Wurundjeri Calendar in Victoria which has 6 seasons. And recently, Melbourne's Lord Mayor, Nicholas Reece, said Melbourne, or Naarm, would be better off adopting the Wurundjeri calendar because it's more in tune to what's happening with the weather. Something many, including Karl, think we should be doing right across the country. KARL WINDA TELFER: I'm talking about the English four seasons. So, this is totally different systems that we're talking about and weather patterns and currents and all sorts of different things, because it's the sea country too. So, my question is, well, why do we have that? If that doesn't work, you know? Quiz How many seasons are there in the Tiwi Island Calendar? 1, 2 or 3? It's 3, although they also have 13 minor seasons. Book Week Reporter: Wren Gillett INTRO: This week, kids across Australia have been dressing up as their favourite characters to celebrate Book Week. Wren finds out why Book Week began 80 years ago and why it's still important today for getting young Aussies into reading. STUDENT: I read an hour every night, maybe even two hours some nights. STUDENT: My favourite book series are the Harry Potter series and the Keeper of the Lost City series. STUDENT: Probably Bad Guys and Weirdo. STUDENT: I like the Amulet, I've been reading that. STUDENT: I love reading Dork Diaries and Exploding Endings. Whether it's Fantasy, mystery, history — whatever you're into. Book week is a time to celebrate, well, books. STUDENT: Me and my friends are dressing up as Inside Out. STUDENT: I was thinking SpongeBob. STUDENT: I'm dressing up as Winnie the Pooh and it's just a fun way to express what kind of books you like. And guess what, book week has actually been a thing for many, many years. WREN GILLETT, REPORTER: Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, literacy lovers noticed a problem. The year was 1945. The second World War had just ended, and kids were mainly reading books from overseas, in particular the UK. Because, at the time, there weren't many Aussie authors writing books for children. WREN GILLETT: So, a group of passionate teachers, librarians, booksellers, publishers, and book-loving volunteers, decided to create what we now know as The Children's Book Council of Australia. Familiar logo, right? Together, they launched book week, all in an effort to get Aussie kids' reading more. And it seemed to work. The 1960s saw a boom in Australian children's books being published. REPORTER: How many books do you read a week? STUDENT: Well, it really depends on the week. If there's exams, I might read only one or two. But if there's no exams and if I've got plenty of time, I might read up to five or six. WREN GILLETT: But today, it's a slightly different story. Studies show that less than one in five eight to 18-year-olds are reading in their free time, and that only one in three actually enjoy reading for fun. WREN GILLETT: Why do you reckon we're seeing this trend? STUDENT: People are getting sucked into screens and they're like spending hours just scrolling through TikTok and stuff, and they're getting so attached to it that they don't feel the need to pick up books and read them. Yeah, there's a lot of different things competing for our attention these days, but many think books are still worth our time. PETER HELLIER, AUSSIE COMEDIAN AND AUTHOR: Books are the exact opposite of boring. And if you think they're boring, I'm sorry, but you're wrong. This is Peter Hellier, he's a pretty famous Aussie comedian, actor, and the author behind these books. And he's just released another one called Detective Galileo, about a trail horse who dreams of solving crimes. PETER HELLIER: He joins the police force and quickly finds out that the horses don't actually solve the crimes, it's the police officers who solve the crime. So he promptly gets thrown out of the force and begins his own detective agency, which I'm reliably told is the only detective agency in the world run by a horse. Peter actually started writing books when he was a kid. PETER HELLIER: I started writing when I was six, seven, eight years old. In fact, I started my own publishing company called Better Books. And I would write these books, and then I would get a parent or one of my parents or teachers to type them up. And I would read them in front of the class. And, you see, each has the logo, the Better Books logo, there it is — the famous Better Books logo. WREN GILLETT: You weren't mucking around. PETER HELLIER: There all on all of them. There we go. There we go. Many, Including Peter, say there's plenty to get from a good book. They help us learn new words and phrases, get a better understanding of the world around us, and strengthen our imaginations. PETER HELLIER: Books can take you absolutely anywhere. They can take you to countries that you never dreamed about going. Countries that exist, countries that don't exist. Reading just makes the world a much bigger place. It's why for the past 80 years, schools around the country have been taking part in book week. STUDENT: Reading is a place where you can have your own world just to yourself. STUDENT: It's like watching a movie inside your head, but you can choose how it goes. STUDENT: Picking up a book is a good idea, maybe you should start with something that you're interested with and then you can start exploring from there. Quiz What is the title of the book that took out this year's Book of the year Award for younger readers? It's Laughter is the Best Endingby Maryam Master. Some other winners included I'm not really here by Gary Loneborough which took out book of the year for older readers and best picture book went to The Truck Cat, by Deborah Frenkel. Sport Australia's men's national basketball team — the Boomers — have won their third Asia Cup in a row, with an epically narrow victory over China. COMMENTATOR: It is Australia who are celebrating! China started strong, leading 25-17 at quarter time. But Aussie Xavier Cooks led a fierce comeback, shooting 30 points and collecting nine rebounds, earning him the title of MVP. And there seriously couldn't have been a tighter finish. Just as the final buzzer went off, China missed a shot that would have won them the game, leaving Australia with a 90-89 victory. COMMENTATOR: An unbelievable finish. The 2025 AFLW season kicked off last week, and so did a new trick. Yeah, 19-year-old Ash Centra from Collingwood, pulled out this move in the warm-up before their season-opener to Carlton, and since then, a lot of people have been trying to do it, with some success, kind of? FOOTY PLAYER: No, I'm not doing it on camera. But despite the epic warmup, Carlton did end up beating Collingwood by 24 points. Now, the moves from these athletes in China weren't quite so graceful but give 'em a break, okay, they're robots. For the first time ever, humanoid robots from all over the world, competed in their very own games, which featured, soccer, boxing, running, and ahh, lots of falling over. Lots. Luckily though, they did bring their own cheer squad. Young Rapper Reporter: Rylie INTRO: Finally, we're going to meet another winner of this year's Heywire competition — which asks young people in regional areas to share their stories. Rylie's going to tell us how music helped to transform his life. Check it out. Mum and I were homeless. We lived at a caravan park, in motels and tents around Warrnambool. It wasn't pretty. I'm First Nations, and I remember feeling like, my own country is failing me right now. So, we camped right along here. I remember pitching a tent right here and this was actually around the same time I started to get into music which was a good way for me to have something to look forward to. I was raised by the SoundCloud era, listening to a lot of trap music. When I was in school, I'd rap along to songs by Juice World, then I started to make my own. My first track was recorded on my phone. It was bad but a lot of fun to make. Some kids in my school heard it and shamed me. That put me off music for the next couple of years, until a friend of mine bought a microphone and encouraged me to give it another go. There was something about that mic and the energy of the crew around me that gave me confidence. It lit a fire in me. Over time, I was able to focus my flow. My songs are about escapism, living the life, being a success. I rap about stuff that takes me to a better place in my head. I'm manifesting my future. My stage name is Hundo Milli, it's short for hundreds of millions. Money's not really the end goal; it's more about having the freedom to dream big. Mum taught me to never stop believing. Even when times were tough, she kept pushing for us to get housing and eventually we did. We're some of the lucky ones. Today, I'm in a Melbourne studio recording my next single. I remember living in my tent dreaming about this very moment and now I'm here, doing what I love. Ain't nothing going to stop me. Closer Well, that's all we've got for you today, but we'll be back before you know it. In the meantime, you can head to our website, there's plenty to see and do. You can also catch Newsbreak every weeknight and there's BTN High for all you highschoolers out there. Have an awesome week and I'll see you next time. Bye.

Contact with the Americas In 1001, Viking sailors led by Leif Erikson reached the eastern tip of North America. Archaeologists have found evidence of the Viking settlement of Vinland in present-day Newfoundland, Canada. The Vikings did not stay in Vinland long and no one is sure why they left. However, Viking stories describe fierce battles with Skraelings, the Viking name for the Inuit. Evidence suggests that Asians continued to cross the Bering Sea into North America after the last ice age ended. Some scholars believe that ancient seafarers from Polynesia may have traveled to the Americas using their knowledge of the stars and winds. Modern Polynesians have sailed canoes thousands of miles in this way. Still others think that fishing boats from China and Japan blew off course and landed on the western coast of North or South America. Perhaps such voyages occurred. If so, they were long forgotten. Before 1492, the peoples of Asia and Europe had no knowledge of the Americas and their remarkable civilizations. The Voyages of Columbus Portuguese sailors had pioneered new routes around Africa toward Asia in the late 1400s. Spain, too, wanted a share of the riches. King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella hoped to keep their rival, Portugal, from controlling trade with India, China, and Japan. They agreed to finance a voyage of exploration by Christopher Columbus. Columbus, an Italian sea captain, planned to reach the East Indies by sailing west across the Atlantic. Finding a sea route straight to Asia would give the Spanish direct access to the silks, spices, and precious metals of Asia. The spice trade was a major cause for European exploration and a reason the Spanish rulers supported Columbus’s voyage. They also wanted wealth from any source. “Get gold,” King Ferdinand said to Columbus. “Humanely if possible, but at all hazards—get gold.” Crossing the Atlantic In August 1492, Columbus set out with three ships and about 90 sailors. As captain, he commanded the largest vessel, the Santa María. The other ships were the Niña and the Pinta. After a brief stop at the Canary Islands, the little fleet continued west into unknown seas. Fair winds sped them along, but a month passed without the sight of land. Some sailors began to grumble. They had never been away from land for so long and feared being lost at sea. Still, Columbus sailed on. On October 7, sailors saw flocks of birds flying southwest. Columbus changed course to follow the birds. A few days later, crew members spotted tree branches and flowers floating in the water. At 2 a.m. on October 12, the lookout on the Pinta spotted white cliffs shining in the moonlight. “Tierra! Tierra!” he shouted. “Land! Land!” At dawn, Columbus rowed ashore and planted the banner of Spain. He was convinced that he had reached the East Indies in Asia. He called the people he found there “Indians.” In fact, he had reached islands off the coasts of North America and South America in the Caribbean Sea. These islands later became known as the West Indies. For three months, Columbus explored the West Indies. To his delight, he found signs of gold on the islands. Eager to report his success, he returned to Spain. Columbus Claims Lands for Spain In Spain, Columbus presented Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand with gifts of pink pearls and brilliantly colored parrots. Columbus brought with him many things that Europeans had never seen before: tobacco, pineapples, and hammocks used for sleeping. Columbus also described the “Indians” he had met, the Taino (ty noh). The Taino, he promised, could easily be converted to Christianity and could also be used as slaves. The Spanish monarchs were impressed. They gave Columbus the title Admiral of the Ocean Sea. They also agreed to finance future voyages. The promise of great wealth, and the chance to spread Christianity, gave them a reason to explore further. Columbus made three more voyages across the Atlantic. In 1493, he founded the first Spanish colony in the Americas, Santo Domingo, on an island he called Hispaniola (present-day Haiti and the Dominican Republic). A colony is an area settled and ruled by the government of a distant land. Columbus also explored present-day Cuba and Jamaica. He sailed along the coasts of Central America and northern South America. He claimed all of these lands for Queen Isabella of Spain. Columbus proved to be a better explorer than governor. During his third expedition, settlers on Hispaniola complained of his harsh rule. Queen Isabella appointed an investigator, who sent Columbus back to Spain in chains. In the end, the queen pardoned Columbus, but he never regained the honors he had won earlier. He died in 1506, still convinced that he had reached Asia. The Impact of Columbus’s Voyages Columbus has long been honored as the bold sea captain who “discovered America.” Today, we recognize that American Indians had discovered and settled these lands long before 1492. We also recognize that Columbus and the Europeans who followed him treated the ancient inhabitants of the Americas brutally. Still, Columbus’s voyages did change history. They marked the beginning of lasting contact among the peoples of Europe, Africa, and the Americas. For a great many American Indians, contact had tragic results. Columbus and those who followed were convinced that European culture was superior to that of the Indians. The Spanish claimed Taino lands and forced the Taino to work in gold mines, on ranches, or in Spanish households. Many Taino died from harsh conditions or European diseases. The Taino population was wiped out. Still, the voyages of Columbus signaled a turning point for the Americas. A turning point is a moment in history that marks a decisive change. Curious Europeans saw the new lands as a place where they could settle, trade, and grow rich. Spanish Exploration Continues After the voyages of Columbus, the Spanish explored and settled other Caribbean islands that Columbus had found. They sought gold, land for crops, people to enslave, and converts to Christianity for the Spanish crown. By 1511, they had conquered Puerto Rico, Jamaica, and Cuba. They also explored the eastern coasts of North America and South America in search of a western route to Asia. In 1513, Vasco Núñez de Balboa (bal boh uh) crossed the Isthmus of Panama. American Indians had told him that a large body of water lay to the west. With a party of Spanish soldiers and Indians, Balboa reached the Pacific Ocean and claimed the ocean for Spain. The Spanish had no idea how wide the Pacific was until a sea captain named Ferdinand Magellan (muh jel un) sailed across it. The expedition—made up of five ships and about 250 crew members—left Spain in 1519. Fifteen months later, it cut through the stormy southern tip of South America by way of what is now known as the Strait of Magellan and entered the Pacific Ocean. Crossing the vast Pacific, the sailors ran out of food: Primary Source “We remained 3 months and 20 days without taking in provisions or other refreshments and ate only old biscuit reduced to powder, full of grubs and stinking from the dirt which rats had made on it. We drank water that was yellow and stinking.” —Antonio Pigafetta, The Diary of Antonio Pigafetta Magellan himself was killed in a battle with the local people of the Philippine Islands off the coast of Asia. In 1522, only one ship and 18 sailors returned to Spain. They were the first people to circumnavigate, or sail completely around, the world. In doing so, they had found an all-water western route to Asia. Europeans became aware of the true size of the Earth. How Did the Columbian Exchange Affect the Rest of the World? The encounter between the peoples of the Eastern and Western Hemispheres sparked a global exchange of goods and ideas. Because it started with the voyages of Columbus, this transfer is known as the Columbian Exchange. The Columbian Exchange refers to a biological and cultural exchange of animals, plants, human populations, diseases, food, government, technology, the arts, and languages. The exchange went in both directions. Europeans learned much from American Indians. At the same time, Europeans contributed in many ways to the culture of the Americas. This exchange also brought about many modifications, or changes, to the physical environment of the Americas, with both positive and negative results. Changing Environments Europeans introduced domestic animals such as chickens from Europe and Africa. European pigs, cattle, and horses often escaped into the wild and multiplied rapidly. Forests and grasslands were converted to pastures. As horses spread through what would become the United States, Indians learned to ride them and used them to carry heavy loads. Plants from Europe and Africa changed the way American Indians lived. The first bananas came from the Canary Islands. By 1520, one Spaniard reported that banana trees had spread “so greatly that it is marvelous to see the great abundance of them.” Oranges, lemons, and figs were also new to the Americas. In North America, explorers also brought such plants as bluegrass, the daisy, and the dandelion. These plants spread quickly in American soil and modified American grasslands. Tragically, Europeans also brought new diseases, such as smallpox and influenza. American Indians had no resistance to these diseases. Historians estimate that within 75 years, diseases from Europe had killed almost 90 percent of the people in the Caribbean Islands and in Mexico. American Indian Influences on Europe, Africa and Asia American Indians introduced Europeans to valuable food crops such as corn, potatoes, sweet potatoes, beans, tomatoes, manioc, squash, peanuts, pineapples, and blueberries. Today, almost half the world’s food crops come from plants that were first grown in the Americas. Europeans carried the new foods with them as they sailed around the world. Everywhere, people’s diets changed and populations increased. In South Asia, people used American hot peppers and chilies to spice stews. Chinese peasants began growing corn and sweet potatoes. Italians made sauces from tomatoes. People in West Africa grew manioc and corn. European settlers often adopted American Indian skills. In the North, Indians showed Europeans how to use snowshoes and trap beavers and other fur-bearing animals. European explorers learned how to paddle Indian canoes. Some leaders studied American Indian political structures. In the 1700s, Benjamin Franklin admired the Iroquois League and urged American colonists to unite in a similar way. Positive and Negative Consequences Through the Columbian Exchange, Europeans and American Indians modified their environments and gained new resources and skills. At the same time, warfare and disease killed many on both sides. Europeans viewed expansion positively. They gained great wealth, explored trade routes, and spread Christianity. Yet their farming, mining, and diseases took a toll on the physical environment and left many American Indians dead. Despite these negatives, the Columbian Exchange shaped the modern world, including what would become the United States.

“On this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when I’m no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your “dead” Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when I’m only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!” Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasn’t what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. There’s no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. “That’s right,” I said aloud. “Knox, my-my Sovereign!” squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one I’d never seen before or had failed to remember. “Look what I’ve found! It’s wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I don’t know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.” He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. “How neat.” “I want you to have it, Sir.” I nodded my head. “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until I’m nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. “Shut up,” I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorum–biting down with square teeth laced with rabies. “I’ve got you all something,” I said. “Go back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We don’t want it.” A woman rose from the pile and spat. “You don’t even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.” “Your playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.” The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. “I remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, I’m going to have an aneurysm!” the girl continued. “Why not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?” I returned her accusing tone. “I’m sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel I’ve neglected my duties. I’ll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if I’ve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!” I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. “I’ll just leave this here.” Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** “141, 143. . .” I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasn’t moving at all–swallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. You’ve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. “Do you need help, Knox?” called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There must’ve been at least another hundred between me and her. “I’m hallucinating some,” I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. “I’m hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, we’d have to eliminate the ‘ball’ aspect. It sounds too crude.” “One foot in front of the other,” she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stulto’s bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. “Love,” I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. “Are you awake?” She said she’d wait. Somebody’s gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manor’s cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. “Where is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?” There’s someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stulto’s bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depression–Spes posing with her ax, Ari’s school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subject’s essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustn’t forget whose home they’re in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ari’s from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. “Darling,” whispered the rosy-faced man, “look.” He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. “Get out of my house,” I said. The man stayed in place. “Get out of my house,” I repeated. “Knox,” Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. “Shut up!” I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. “Get out of my house! I’ll kill you!” “Knox!” Spes sobbed. “God damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, there’s less passion. God, God, God, I don’t want to fuck a dead man!” she screamed, “You get out! Get! Get!” My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind world–even my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the man’s head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wife’s shoulder. “Spes!” My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. “You’re insane,” he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. “Get up.” Staggering toward the bed, I said. “You wanted passion? I showed you passion. ‘Shoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .” I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. “I love you, Spes,” I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. “Spes, please. Please.” No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. “Dad? I heard–” Ari’s slippered feet hammered across the floor. “Mom? Mom?” I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. “She-She isn’t—your—.” Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. “You’re a murderer. Bad. Like they said,” she breathed, “ You beat her!” The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. “My-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me,” she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least she’d be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. “No,” I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. “Stay with me.” But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. “Trials Sovereign Vsevolod “Knox” Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purity’s Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Life’s 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!” towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You aren’t a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didn’t dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. “Knox?” said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasn’t confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasn’t as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellar’s backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. “Come on, get up! They’re after you!” Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. “Anwen?” I rasped, “hu-who let you out?” Keys jangled in her hands–my keys. “I escaped,” she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. “Quicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. ‘You see that compost bin down the alley? We’re gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, I’ll be on top, and I can hide you and act like I’m just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.” With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. “I don’t understand, Anwen,” I said. “They’re going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know they’ve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!” “I understand that.” It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. “You said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?” “What else could I do? Leave you there?” Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. “Damn me to hell! I’ve killed her! My love is dead!” an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. “Shut up! Soon you’ll be, too, if you don’t quiet down.” The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the bin’s lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. “What are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,” I whispered. “The search, mainly.” Aggression remained firey in Anwen’s clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. “Did you mean to kill her?” Anwen interrogated. “Someone like you would immutably believe yes.” “And who is someone like me? You can’t even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?” grating drama decorated her words. “You know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breed’s faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.” I retorted. “I just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?” “It makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.” “And why am I an idiot?” She asked. “Because you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.” As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. “You never answered my question,” Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crate’s exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. “No. Of course not. Spes was my everything,” I sniffled. “I knew it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.” My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and misery–one to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as “sensitive”, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wife’s tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. “That’s why I think you could use a little help,” Anwen said, “It seems like you can’t walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.” She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. “Take off your tie and put up your hair. ‘Will make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.”

Into The Sea Mary is a scientist. She studies plants and animals of the sea. She uses this little sub. It is a special sub that can dive deep into the water. The sub has tanks of air for her to breathe. The sub has bright lights, too. They help her see the plants. Mangrove and animals. She wants to see what kind of sharks live here. This sub has a camera. So she can take pictures of the sharks that swim by. Sometimes she dives off a boat into the sea. She puts on a special suit for diving. She wears an air tank. She wears a mask and flippers, too. She carries a special camera that works underwater. She takes pictures of the seaweed. She wants to see how big it can grow.

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