A particular camping trip with my children haunts me. I wanted to show them the Mejillones of my childhood—the pristine beaches and abundant sea life. We brought a pot and gathered crabs and shellfish, but as we made our way to a nearby beach the staff stopped us. We saw pipes and fences. What appeared to be waste dumping into the sea turned the water into a yellow foam. It looked dangerous and unnatural. My heart broke.
MEJILLONES, Chile — Skilled trades once sustained the people of Mejillones, Chile. Today, those crafts disappear. Traditions fade and the skills families once boasted garner little respect. The peaceful people of Mejillones failed to defend their land. Though not born here, I love Mejillones, just like those native to it.
To protect Mejillones from the changes taking place, we shift our focus to institutional action. Along with others, we protest chemical dumping and the blocking of fishermen’s boats. The moment requires more than protest, however. We need to push for change through official channels. While I face persecution, I remain committed to ensuring companies comply with environmental regulations and invest in technology to reduce pollution.
Read more environment stories at Orato World Media.
Although my father worked for a shipping company, as children, we never experienced the sea. Where we grew up in Valdivia, we faced poverty, cold, rain, and hunger. Then one day, due to political reasons, my father left Valdivia for the north. He went to Mejillones. My sister and I followed with nothing but the clothes on our backs. At just 10 years old, I arrived in my town at just 10 years old.
We reached Mejillones during the Cojinova silverside fish boom. My father immediately began fishing. We possessed no spoons, plates, or even a blanket; we had absolutely nothing. Yet, the moment I set my eyes on Mejillones, it felt like stepping into paradise. Coming from the greenery of the jungle, this new, bright, sunny place felt breathtaking. The white, warm sand beneath my feet left a glorious first impression. Despite the hardships, those early days felt magical.
Living near the pier, many people I met back then remain my dearest friends today. They gifted us tarpaulins, linens, mattresses, and blankets in order to sleep near the shore. Dad fished for cojinova and taught us to provide for ourselves. We soon adjusted to our new life, learning to dive and gather crabs, clams, and oysters.
Every morning, we awoke steps from the water. It felt like paradise; like living a dream. We ate fried fish for breakfast and drank tea. For lunch, we feasted on oysters, sea urchins, clams, and crabs. We ate what we caught. Many of these items became expensive seafood over time.
I wish to return to the days when my family first moved to Mejillones. It felt like the best time of my life. Mejillones offered pure freedom free from hunger, illness, and worry. I remember grabbing a pot with my friends, collecting wood for a fire, and heading out to the beach to cook and visit. Life felt simpler, more joyful, and safe.
We spent out days outside without fear, surrounded by good people in a city untouched by crime. We lived well, eating fresh seafood and reveling in the tranquility of the surroundings. Then, in 1983, paradise began to disappear. The Enaex plant arrived, ushering in an era of industrialization. Soon, thermoelectric, acid, and gas plants followed. Mejillones transformed as if we traded gold for mud.
A particular camping trip with my children haunts me. I wanted to show them the Mejillones of my childhood—the pristine beaches and abundant sea life. We brought a pot and gathered crabs and shellfish, but as we made our way to a nearby beach the staff stopped us. We saw pipes and fences. What appeared to be waste dumping into the sea turned the water into a yellow foam. It looked dangerous and unnatural. My heart broke.
I tried to give my children a glimpse of paradise. Today, my grandchildren will never experience it. Capitalism consumed Mejillones, prioritizing profit over people and nature. I fought hard against the change, and I lost much along the way in my attempt to show life holds greater value than money. Mejillones, once vibrant and alive, stands as a stark reminder of what we lose when greed eclipses respect for the land and its people.
Witnessing what Mejillones became breaks my heart. Fishing, once a respected way of life, nearly disappeared. What little fishing remains in Mejillones appears contaminated, forcing fishermen to venture farther out to sea. This drives up costs and makes their work unsustainable. A recent environmental impact study confirmed the grim reality. They found heavy metals polluting the bay including lead, nickel, sulfur, copper, and zinc. It stains the seabed with the residue of unchecked industrial greed, enabled by complacent authorities.
My fight began on a hot day years ago. My friend Cormorant who works as a photographer and commercial diver died diving near an Enaex pipeline. An ammonia leak exploded, killing him instantly. My earliest memories included Cormorant and his death ignited my resolve to confront the pollution and the corporations claiming to be “harmless” while destroying our lives and land.
As a councilwoman, I repeatedly questioned some of the mayor’s actions. Once, I asked him, “How much did you sell Mejillones for?” The town saw developments like cable services and hotels appear, but at what cost? While some say industrial ventures benefit the community, I believe they simply fuel exploitation.
In the past, the people of Mejillones lived long, healthy lives, often passing away from old age. Today, illnesses often claim lives early. A 16-year-old boy and his 36-year-old father suffer from cancer. Children I watched since birth suffer, yet no one asks why. Fear silences the town. Meanwhile, I pay dearly for my activism. My son moved to Canada with his family to escape the persecution from political and industrial factions I face. In Chile, it feels safer to work as a drug trafficker than an environmentalist.
Activists often “go missing.” I tell my friends, I will never take my life or leave my house. That way, if something happens to me, they will know. Now, I focus on my role as a councilwoman and on the institutional side of things. By constructing a regulatory plan, we fight to establish a “harmless zone” prohibiting dangerous industries. If a company wants to operate in that zone, they must invest in technology to stop pollution. This feels like a critical step to protect our community and hold industries accountable.
Thirty years ago, I met the people from Mejiambiente, an organization I belong to even now. Some members left the group or went to work for the same companies we challenged. Today, we have about 15 to 20 people left in Mejiambiente. I remained because over these 30 years, my resolve to protect Mejillones and my devotion to environmental issues grew. Yet, fear exposing myself further. Activism can lead to brutal persecution. For this reason, I use my elected office to ensure companies relocating here comply with environmental regulations, and those already here stop polluting through better technology.
At Mejiambiente, we I do not want to keep exposing myself to the brutality of persecution. Now, we need to approach this institutionally. I am committed to ensuring that any company wanting to set up here must comply with environmental regulations, and those already operating must invest in technology to stop polluting.
Mejiambiente studied an educational complex 500 meters from the industrial zone, where over 1,000 children attend. In the study, we found alarming levels of heavy metals on the school’s roof. To address this, the mayor sent water trucks and firefighters to wet the roof. The environmental group believed he took on this task to prevent further testing.
Currently, at Mejiambiente, we focus on five objectives. Four support the feasibility of certain companies setting up here, while three other councilmen and I push for the harmless sector. Some councilmen, backed by the mayor, argue our efforts simply stall development by opposing more companies. Yet, 50 percent of Mejillones’ population remains unemployed. If 42 companies cannot absorb the labor force, what difference will two or three more make?
Today, locals take responsibility for their community, even sharing videos of environmental issues. Many of us started these discussions and I take pride in my role to spur a movement others continue. We lack essential infrastructure in Mejillones like hospitals, clinics, and schools. As industrialization progresses, construction crews build nearly 1,500 new houses, while the government neglects education and healthcare.
Hope lies in seeing young children speak out about the pollution in Mejillones, and it fills me with pride. We raised awareness that carries on in future generations, offering me a sense of fulfillment. Even now, I support a young politician because we need to give the youth a chance to defend Mejillones.