CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY

MAD MAX IS HERE

1. The Real Situation of the Main Reservoirs of the South-Eastern Brazil.

Stepping out onto the "craquelure" bottom of a bone dry reservoir gives one a sinking
feeling. Actually, the realization that we were not on the set of a post-apocalyptic film, like "Mad
Max", but rather in the middle of an enormous reservoir that until just recently supplied millions
of people with water, is enough to send anyone into despair. We were at the Serra Azul reservoir,
in Minas Gerais, one of the main parts of the Paraopeba System, which ensures or ensured
water for most of Greater Belo Horizonte and its 5.7 million inhabitants. Throughout the entire
Paraopeba water basin, only 12% of the native forest remains. "Without vegetation on its banks,
the reservoirs have a much more difficult time holding water since they suffer from erosion,
pollution and silting," said Cristiane Mazzetti, a member of the Greenpeace Forest Campaign.
"It's high time that our political leaders understood that, without the forest, there is no water."1

The hot sun makes the thousands of cracks in the soil even more dramatic. After
decades of being submerged, a bridge surfaces in the middle of the reservoir. The water that is
left is concentrated at the bottom of the river channel. Way down at the bottom. At the moment,
at the end of the rainy season in 2015, the Serra Azul is at around 9.10% of its capacity. In 2014,
the average for the reservoir for the month of March was 44.3%.. Our throats parched, we
realized that we were witnessing an environmental collapse of enormous proportions.2

The visit to the Serra Azul reservoir was the last stop on a six-day expedition to see some
of the main reservoirs in Brazil's south-eastern region. Completed by Greenpeace at the
beginning of April in partnership with the monitoring company Terra Sense, the objective of the
expedition was to launch UAVs from different points along the reservoirs to record the level of
water and the soil use of the surrounding areas. In all we traveled a thousand kilometers. We
walked up hills, entered thickets, swampy plains and remote trails to access points that had been
previously mapped as favourable for launching the UAV.3

1
2 Steve G. Mckenzie, A Reef in Time: The Great Barrier Reef From Beginning to End, (Tarrytown, New York: Marshall
Cavendish, 2004), 354.
3 (translated)
 CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY
UAVs, with their ability to capture aerial images precisely and quickly, make them an
agile technological tool for research and other purposes. Without flying over any urban areas, our
expedition was able to conduct 14 flights, with over four hours in the air, mapping 607 hectares
in and around three reservoirs. Our efforts resulted in 668 photographs of the reservoirs and the
surrounding area. When our expedition set off, we knew we would be the first to use UAV
technology to monitor the state of reservoirs in Brazil. What we did not know was what we
would witness with our own eyes.4

We found the Paraibuna reservoir, in Vale do Paraba do Sul, at less than 5% of its
capacity. This is at the end of the rainy season. In other words, it's not going to get any better.
Just the opposite, the outlook for this year is frightening. During this same period last year (the
beginning of April 2014), the Paraibuna was at 40% of its capacity. The Paraibuna, one of the
most important for a system that supplies over eight million people in Rio de Janeiro, has less
than 13% of the original forest in its water basin. Only 26% of its Permanent Preservation Areas,
including hilltops and riversides, have been preserved. What one finds there is a lot of barren
hillsides, pastures, silted riverbanks and, primarily in the region of the sources of the Paraibuna,
in the upper Serra do Mar, rivers and springs that have run dry.5

"Son, you see my cattle grazing over there? It was all water less than two years ago.
Suddenly everything dried out," recalled Paulo Ribeiro da Silva, a milk producer who lives near
the reservoir. Mr. da Silva explains that he grew up in the region and has never seen the water
surface shrink this much. "If the government helped us to maintain the riverside forests and
protect the springs, the situation would be different," he said. Even milk producers know that
without the forest, there is no water.6

From the Paraba do Sul basin the expedition traveled to the region that has become
emblematic of the water crisis that affects the entire Brazilian south-east: the Cantareira System,
the most important supply system for the largest metropolis in South America. Since mid-2014
pumping water from the so-called "dead volume," the Cantareira is a system of interlinked
reservoirs that supply over five million people in Greater So Paulo. Or should we say supplied,
since the state government has transferred part of that previously serviced by the Cantareira to

4
5 Tracy I. Storer, General Zoology: Sixth Edition (Avenue of the Americas, New York: Mc Graw Hill, 2003), 198.
6 Carlos Bulossan, The Philippines is in the Heart (Quezon City, Philippines: New Day Publishers, 1978), 27.
 CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY
other reservoirs in the wake of its collapse. From the edge of the reservoir or the top of the hills,
we observed the Cantareira which is under capacity by 11% (without counting the "dead
volume," which entered into use in May 2014). That's right, the level of the Cantareira stands at
-11%. A year ago, this figure was around 14%.

We launched the UAV from three different points at the Jaguari-Jacare reservoir. For
those who are concerned about the future of So Paulo, a warning: the images captured from
above are dire. Only 15% of the forests of the basin are standing. Of the rivers that make up the
basin, 76.5% are without their riparian forests. If the vegetation in the basin contributes to the
water cycle on a regional scale and the riparian forests, in turn, protect rivers and springs from
impacts like erosion and silting, our system is seriously degraded. "The economy of the region is
already feeling the effects of the depletion of the reservoirs," said Marcelo Delduque, owner of
the farm Fazenda Serrinha, located along the edge of the Jaguari-Jacare. "A lot of people who
depended on tourism and leisure activities have lost their jobs."7

However, the consequences of the water crisis go far beyond the economy. The collapse
of the main reservoirs that supply the major cities of the south-east compromise the sustainability
of the region, affecting the health, quality of life and survival of its population. A fundamental
step forward would be to stop deforestation now. "And begin to reforest, because this is the only
way to recover the ability of the water basins to produce and store water," said Cristiane
Mazzetti.8

The future of millions of Brazilians depends on the recuperation of these reservoirs and
on all of us to establish a new relationship with water resources and the forests. On a daily basis
the Amazon releases 20 billion tons of water vapor into the atmosphere, forming flying rivers
that flow to the south, south-east and mid-west regions of Brazil, irrigating fields and filling
reservoirs. By continuing to deforest the Amazon and not recuperating the vegetation and the
water basins that supply the country's major cities, Brazil is flirting with unprecedented socio-
environmental disaster and compromising the future of new generations.9

7Edilberto K. Tiempo, TO BE FREE (Manila,Philippines: New Day Publishers,1972),456.

8 B. S. Medina, Jr., Confrontations (Manila, Philippines: National Book Store, 1974), 225.
9 J. Maurus, Anecdotes of the Great (Manila, Philippines: Saint Paul Publications, 1989), 67.
 CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY
Stepping out onto the "craquelure" bottom of a bone dry reservoir gives one a sinking
feeling. Actually, the realization that we were not on the set of a post-apocalyptic film, like "Mad
Max", but rather in the middle of an enormous reservoir that until just recently supplied millions
of people with water, is enough to send anyone into despair. We were at the Serra Azul reservoir,
in Minas Gerais, one of the main parts of the Paraopeba System, which ensures or ensured
water for most of Greater Belo Horizonte and its 5.7 million inhabitants. Throughout the entire
Paraopeba water basin, only 12% of the native forest remains. "Without vegetation on its banks,
the reservoirs have a much more difficult time holding water since they suffer from erosion,
pollution and silting," said Cristiane Mazzetti, a member of the Greenpeace Forest Campaign.
"It's high time that our political leaders understood that, without the forest, there is no water."10

The hot sun makes the thousands of cracks in the soil even more dramatic. After
decades of being submerged, a bridge surfaces in the middle of the reservoir. The water that is
left is concentrated at the bottom of the river channel. Way down at the bottom. At the moment,
at the end of the rainy season in 2015, the Serra Azul is at around 9.10% of its capacity. In 2014,
the average for the reservoir for the month of March was 44.3%. In other words, we are
recording the lowest level in history for this reservoir for this time of the year. Our throats
parched, we realized that we were witnessing an environmental collapse of enormous
proportions.11

The visit to the Serra Azul reservoir was the last stop on a six-day expedition to see some
of the main reservoirs in Brazil's south-eastern region. Completed by Greenpeace at the
beginning of April in partnership with the monitoring company Terra Sense, the objective of the
expedition was to launch UAVs from different points along the reservoirs to record the level of
water and the soil use of the surrounding areas. In all we traveled a thousand kilometers. We
walked up hills, entered thickets, swampy plains and remote trails to access points that had been
previously mapped as favourable for launching the UAV.

UAVs, with their ability to capture aerial images precisely and quickly, make them an
agile technological tool for research and other purposes. Without flying over any urban areas, our
expedition was able to conduct 14 flights, with over four hours in the air, mapping 607 hectares

10 Encyclopedia Judaica, 2nd ed. s.v. Pes-Py.

11 Mircea Eliade, ed.
 CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY
in and around three reservoirs. Our efforts resulted in 668 photographs of the reservoirs and the
surrounding area. When our expedition set off, we knew we would be the first to use UAV
technology to monitor the state of reservoirs in Brazil. What we did not know was what we
would witness with our own eyes.

We found the Paraibuna reservoir, in Vale do Paraba do Sul, at less than 5% of its
capacity. This is at the end of the rainy season. In other words, it's not going to get any better.
Just the opposite, the outlook for this year is frightening. During this same period last year (the
beginning of April 2014), the Paraibuna was at 40% of its capacity. The Paraibuna, one of the
most important for a system that supplies over eight million people in Rio de Janeiro, has less
than 13% of the original forest in its water basin. Only 26% of its Permanent Preservation Areas,
including hilltops and riversides, have been preserved. What one finds there is a lot of barren
hillsides, pastures, silted riverbanks and, primarily in the region of the sources of the Paraibuna,
in the upper Serra do Mar, rivers and springs that have run dry.

"Son, you see my cattle grazing over there? It was all water less than two years ago.
Suddenly everything dried out," recalled Paulo Ribeiro da Silva, a milk producer who lives near
the reservoir. Mr. da Silva explains that he grew up in the region and has never seen the water
surface shrink this much. "If the government helped us to maintain the riverside forests and
protect the springs, the situation would be different," he said. Even milk producers know that
without the forest, there is no water.

From the Paraba do Sul basin the expedition traveled to the region that has become
emblematic of the water crisis that affects the entire Brazilian south-east: the Cantareira System,
the most important supply system for the largest metropolis in South America. Since mid-2014
pumping water from the so-called "dead volume," the Cantareira is a system of interlinked
reservoirs that supply over five million people in Greater So Paulo. Or should we say supplied,
since the state government has transferred part of that previously serviced by the Cantareira to
other reservoirs in the wake of its collapse. From the edge of the reservoir or the top of the hills,
we observed the Cantareira which is under capacity by 11% (without counting the "dead
 CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY
volume," which entered into use in May 2014). That's right, the level of the Cantareira stands at
-11%. A year ago, this figure was around 14%.

We launched the UAV from three different points at the Jaguari-Jacare reservoir. For
those who are concerned about the future of So Paulo, a warning: the images captured from
above are dire. Only 15% of the forests of the basin are standing. Of the rivers that make up the
basin, 76.5% are without their riparian forests. If the vegetation in the basin contributes to the
water cycle on a regional scale and the riparian forests, in turn, protect rivers and springs from
impacts like erosion and silting, our system is seriously degraded. "The economy of the region is
already feeling the effects of the depletion of the reservoirs," said Marcelo Delduque, owner of
the farm Fazenda Serrinha, located along the edge of the Jaguari-Jacare. "A lot of people who
depended on tourism and leisure activities have lost their jobs."

However, the consequences of the water crisis go far beyond the economy. The collapse
of the main reservoirs that supply the major cities of the south-east compromise the sustainability
of the region, affecting the health, quality of life and survival of its population. The expedition
increased the awareness that the south-east and other Brazilian regions have worked themselves
into a corner and there is no magic solution. A fundamental step forward would be to stop
deforestation now. "And begin to reforest, because this is the only way to recover the ability of
the water basins to produce and store water," said Cristiane Mazzetti.

The future of millions of Brazilians depends on the recuperation of these reservoirs and
on all of us to establish a new relationship with water resources and the forests. On a daily basis
the Amazon releases 20 billion tons of water vapor into the atmosphere, forming flying rivers
that flow to the south, south-east and mid-west regions of Brazil, irrigating fields and filling
reservoirs. By continuing to deforest the Amazon and not recuperating the vegetation and the
water basins that supply the country's major cities, Brazil is flirting with unprecedented socio-
environmental disaster and compromising the future of new generations.

Stepping out onto the "craquelure" bottom of a bone dry reservoir gives one a sinking
feeling. Actually, the realization that we were not on the set of a post-apocalyptic film, like "Mad
Max", but rather in the middle of an enormous reservoir that until just recently supplied millions
of people with water, is enough to send anyone into despair. We were at the Serra Azul reservoir,
 CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY
in Minas Gerais, one of the main parts of the Paraopeba System, which ensures or ensured
water for most of Greater Belo Horizonte and its 5.7 million inhabitants. Throughout the entire
Paraopeba water basin, only 12% of the native forest remains. "Without vegetation on its banks,
the reservoirs have a much more difficult time holding water since they suffer from erosion,
pollution and silting," said Cristiane Mazzetti, a member of the Greenpeace Forest Campaign.
"It's high time that our political leaders understood that, without the forest, there is no water."

The hot sun makes the thousands of cracks in the soil even more dramatic. After
decades of being submerged, a bridge surfaces in the middle of the reservoir. The water that is
left is concentrated at the bottom of the river channel. Way down at the bottom. At the moment,
at the end of the rainy season in 2015, the Serra Azul is at around 9.10% of its capacity. In 2014,
the average for the reservoir for the month of March was 44.3%. In other words, we are
recording the lowest level in history for this reservoir for this time of the year. Our throats
parched, we realized that we were witnessing an environmental collapse of enormous
proportions.

The visit to the Serra Azul reservoir was the last stop on a six-day expedition to see some
of the main reservoirs in Brazil's south-eastern region. Completed by Greenpeace at the
beginning of April in partnership with the monitoring company Terra Sense, the objective of the
expedition was to launch UAVs from different points along the reservoirs to record the level of
water and the soil use of the surrounding areas. In all we traveled a thousand kilometers. We
walked up hills, entered thickets, swampy plains and remote trails to access points that had been
previously mapped as favourable for launching the UAV.

UAVs, with their ability to capture aerial images precisely and quickly, make them an
agile technological tool for research and other purposes. Without flying over any urban areas, our
expedition was able to conduct 14 flights, with over four hours in the air, mapping 607 hectares
in and around three reservoirs. Our efforts resulted in 668 photographs of the reservoirs and the
surrounding area. When our expedition set off, we knew we would be the first to use UAV
technology to monitor the state of reservoirs in Brazil. What we did not know was what we
would witness with our own eyes.
 CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY
We found the Paraibuna reservoir, in Vale do Paraba do Sul, at less than 5% of its
capacity. This is at the end of the rainy season. In other words, it's not going to get any better.
Just the opposite, the outlook for this year is frightening. During this same period last year (the
beginning of April 2014), the Paraibuna was at 40% of its capacity. The Paraibuna, one of the
most important for a system that supplies over eight million people in Rio de Janeiro, has less
than 13% of the original forest in its water basin. Only 26% of its Permanent Preservation Areas,
including hilltops and riversides, have been preserved. What one finds there is a lot of barren
hillsides, pastures, silted riverbanks and, primarily in the region of the sources of the Paraibuna,
in the upper Serra do Mar, rivers and springs that have run dry.

"Son, you see my cattle grazing over there? It was all water less than two years ago.
Suddenly everything dried out," recalled Paulo Ribeiro da Silva, a milk producer who lives near
the reservoir. Mr. da Silva explains that he grew up in the region and has never seen the water
surface shrink this much. "If the government helped us to maintain the riverside forests and
protect the springs, the situation would be different," he said. Even milk producers know that
without the forest, there is no water.

From the Paraba do Sul basin the expedition traveled to the region that has become
emblematic of the water crisis that affects the entire Brazilian south-east: the Cantareira System,
the most important supply system for the largest metropolis in South America. Since mid-2014
pumping water from the so-called "dead volume," the Cantareira is a system of interlinked
reservoirs that supply over five million people in Greater So Paulo. Or should we say supplied,
since the state government has transferred part of that previously serviced by the Cantareira to
other reservoirs in the wake of its collapse. From the edge of the reservoir or the top of the hills,
we observed the Cantareira which is under capacity by 11% (without counting the "dead
volume," which entered into use in May 2014). That's right, the level of the Cantareira stands at
-11%. A year ago, this figure was around 14%.

We launched the UAV from three different points at the Jaguari-Jacare reservoir. For
those who are concerned about the future of So Paulo, a warning: the images captured from
above are dire. Only 15% of the forests of the basin are standing. Of the rivers that make up the
 CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY
basin, 76.5% are without their riparian forests. If the vegetation in the basin contributes to the
water cycle on a regional scale and the riparian forests, in turn, protect rivers and springs from
impacts like erosion and silting, our system is seriously degraded. "The economy of the region is
already feeling the effects of the depletion of the reservoirs," said Marcelo Delduque, owner of
the farm Fazenda Serrinha, located along the edge of the Jaguari-Jacare. "A lot of people who
depended on tourism and leisure activities have lost their jobs."

However, the consequences of the water crisis go far beyond the economy. The collapse
of the main reservoirs that supply the major cities of the south-east compromise the sustainability
of the region, affecting the health, quality of life and survival of its population. The expedition
increased the awareness that the south-east and other Brazilian regions have worked themselves
into a corner and there is no magic solution. A fundamental step forward would be to stop
deforestation now. "And begin to reforest, because this is the only way to recover the ability of
the water basins to produce and store water," said Cristiane Mazzetti.

The future of millions of Brazilians depends on the recuperation of these reservoirs and
on all of us to establish a new relationship with water resources and the forests. On a daily basis
the Amazon releases 20 billion tons of water vapor into the atmosphere, forming flying rivers
that flow to the south, south-east and mid-west regions of Brazil, irrigating fields and filling
reservoirs. By continuing to deforest the Amazon and not recuperating the vegetation and the
water basins that supply the country's major cities, Brazil is flirting with unprecedented socio-
environmental disaster and compromising the future of new generations.

Stepping out onto the "craquelure" bottom of a bone dry reservoir gives one a
sinking feeling. Actually, the realization that we were not on the set of a post-apocalyptic film,
like "Mad Max", but rather in the middle of an enormous reservoir that until just recently
supplied millions of people with water, is enough to send anyone into despair. We were at the
Serra Azul reservoir, in Minas Gerais, one of the main parts of the Paraopeba System, which
ensures or ensured water for most of Greater Belo Horizonte and its 5.7 million inhabitants.
Throughout the entire Paraopeba water basin, only 12% of the native forest remains. "Without
vegetation on its banks, the reservoirs have a much more difficult time holding water since they
suffer from erosion, pollution and silting," said Cristiane Mazzetti, a member of the Greenpeace
 CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY
Forest Campaign. "It's high time that our political leaders understood that, without the forest,
there is no water."

The hot sun makes the thousands of cracks in the soil even more dramatic. After
decades of being submerged, a bridge surfaces in the middle of the reservoir. The water that is
left is concentrated at the bottom of the river channel. Way down at the bottom. At the moment,
at the end of the rainy season in 2015, the Serra Azul is at around 9.10% of its capacity. In 2014,
the average for the reservoir for the month of March was 44.3%. In other words, we are
recording the lowest level in history for this reservoir for this time of the year. Our throats
parched, we realized that we were witnessing an environmental collapse of enormous
proportions.

The visit to the Serra Azul reservoir was the last stop on a six-day expedition to see some
of the main reservoirs in Brazil's south-eastern region. Completed by Greenpeace at the
beginning of April in partnership with the monitoring company Terra Sense, the objective of the
expedition was to launch UAVs from different points along the reservoirs to record the level of
water and the soil use of the surrounding areas. In all we traveled a thousand kilometers. We
walked up hills, entered thickets, swampy plains and remote trails to access points that had been
previously mapped as favourable for launching the UAV.

UAVs, with their ability to capture aerial images precisely and quickly, make them an
agile technological tool for research and other purposes. Without flying over any urban areas, our
expedition was able to conduct 14 flights, with over four hours in the air, mapping 607 hectares
in and around three reservoirs. Our efforts resulted in 668 photographs of the reservoirs and the
surrounding area. When our expedition set off, we knew we would be the first to use UAV
technology to monitor the state of reservoirs in Brazil. What we did not know was what we
would witness with our own eyes.

We found the Paraibuna reservoir, in Vale do Paraba do Sul, at less than 5% of its
capacity. This is at the end of the rainy season. In other words, it's not going to get any better.
Just the opposite, the outlook for this year is frightening. During this same period last year (the
beginning of April 2014), the Paraibuna was at 40% of its capacity. The Paraibuna, one of the
most important for a system that supplies over eight million people in Rio de Janeiro, has less
 CASICIACO RECOLETOS SEMINARY
than 13% of the original forest in its water basin. Only 26% of its Permanent Preservation Areas,
including hilltops and riversides, have been preserved. What one finds there is a lot of barren
hillsides, pastures, silted riverbanks and, primarily in the region of the sources of the Paraibuna,
in the upper Serra do Mar, rivers and springs that have run dry.

"Son, you see my cattle grazing over there? It was all water less than two years ago.
Suddenly everything dried out," recalled Paulo Ribeiro da Silva, a milk producer who lives near
the reservoir. Mr. da Silva explains that he grew up in the region and has never seen the water
surface shrink this much. "If the government helped us to maintain the riverside forests and
protect the springs, the situation would be different," he said. Even milk producers know that
without the forest, there is no water.