thelazyenvironmentalist

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

Why I’m Organizing for a Green New Deal in Canada

When I was little, I spent my summers at my grandma’s house. She lived with my grandpa in a ranch-style bungalow a few hundred meters up from the shores of Lake Huron. The house had an immaculately kept garden, mint shag carpet, and a blue porcelain bathtub. It was perfect. When the weather was good, my grandma would spend hours outside with me, collecting Queen Anne’s Lace in the meadow across the road, walking under the cool green canopy of the forest nearby, or splashing in the waves at the beach for so long that when she brought me inside she would immediately place me in the bathtub to wash the sand off. If I sit quietly I can still hear the sound of the grains of sand settling at the bottom of the blue porcelain as she washed the day out of my hair. It was during this time outside that I first learned what it felt like to feel at home in what we refer to as “nature”. I learned that I could eat apples right off the trees in the woods, scrub myself clean- and then get hopelessly dirty again- at the lake, or sit in our secret spot and nap in the shade of a pine tree with the person I loved the most. On days that were cold and rainy, my grandma and I would stay inside, flipping through a Reader’s Digest encyclopaedia of North American Wildlife, or watching TVO. On those days spent inside, every Saturday or Sunday morning (I can’t remember which) I would park myself in front of the old tube TV to watch the same two mid-nineties infomercials each week. The first, a classic in Canadian Millennial cannon- was from the Humane Society- the one with Sarah McLachlan playing in the background, while sad kittens stared into the camera. The second, slightly more scarring, was produced by the World Wildlife Fund, and this one broke my heart. Every weekend I’d sit on that mint shag carpet and sob watching images of Amazon Rainforest being clear cut, or Bengal Tigers being poached and separated from their cubs. Silly as it might seem, it was these early morning infomercials that taught me the devastation and heartbreak of losing nature. They taught me empathy for creatures I will never see or touch in real life, a sadness and longing for places and times I will never live in. They taught me that if I wanted to see things change, I would have to take action myself. My grandma echoed these lessons in her care of me, and those around her. Her compassion for all creatures-humans and animals alike- sticks with me even now, years after her passing. Anyone in our family could tell you about the time that Grandma nursed an abandoned baby mouse back to health, or when we hand fed a litter of baby bunnies for weeks when the mother was scared away by my Aunt Pauline’s dog, or when she brought our Cat, Mr. Tibb’s back from the brink when he was sick and my parents’ had already booked us a trip to Mexico. What I’m trying to say is my grandmother taught me that even if you can’t immediately relate to someone, or something, even if you’re a different species, when help is needed, you offer it. She taught me that there was beauty in the world and that it was worth saving. I haven’t mentioned my Grandpa yet, but he was the love of my Grandma’s life. They met when she was 17 and living in Florida with her parents. He saw her singing in the church choir when he was on vacation with his family, and three months later she had moved up to Canada, they were married, and soon my Aunt Debbie was on the way. My Grandpa’s brother’s made their way owning car dealerships and racehorses, and lived well into their 80s and 90s- my Grandpa got into the oil industry. First in Sarnia, then Nova Scotia, the United States, Calgary, and, for a short period of time, Saudi Arabia, among numerous other towns and cities. My Grandpa managed oil refineries for decades- and was proud of his work and all it afforded his family. Both he and my Grandma had jackets and hats stitched with the Turbo Canada logo (a now defunct petroleum company) and somewhere in my closet at my parent’s house, I still have one of his old jackets tucked away, with a decades old cigarette hidden in the pocket. My Grandpa was in insanely good health, for his entire life. Due to his health, and love of his job, he didn’t retire until he was in his early 60s. When I was about 11 his health abruptly changed. He got very sick, very quickly, and for the first time in his life, he was admitted to a hospital overnight, and for the next 6 months or so, he didn’t really leave. My Grandpa died of Leukaemia in his early 70s, due to, what the family believed, was from a lifetime of benzene exposure from working in the oil and gas industry. Much of the generational wealth I still benefit from, is due to the Canadian oil industry; this makes me uncomfortable. But this same industry, the one that allowed my grandparents to raise 4 daughters comfortably, and retire on the shores of Lake Huron, in a house that they built, is the same industry that ultimately cost him his life- it’s the reason I no longer have a Grandpa. It’s also why when my grandma had a series of mini-strokes resulting in dementia, she spent the last few really difficult years of her life alone, without the comfort of her lifelong partner by her side. I’m not going to say that my Grandfather dying is the reason I work with other young people for climate justice- that fate was sealed over two decades ago, when I first started crying in front of the TV seeing the harm we have the capacity to inflict. But what my Grandpa’s leukaemia does compel me to do is work for a world where no one else has to leave this world too soon in order to provide for their family. The oil and gas industry in Canada has given so many of us so much, and it has also taken so much away. Not just from those like my family who lost a single loved one too soon, and too painfully, but from the communities like the Aamjiwnaang First Nation in Chemical Valley, downstream from the refineries my Grandfather worked at in Sarnia, where miscarriages are frequent because of exposure to chemicals like cadmium and mercury. The weight of our affluence shouldn’t be borne by those who have had their land stolen from them, or by the workers who risk their health and livelihood working in mines and refineries because our government can’t be bothered to subsidize job training programs for low-carbon work, or support an energy economy that doesn’t make a few influential people exorbitant amounts of wealth. The greed of the Canadian petro-state is devastating. It is so easy to give into the heartbreak, the malaise, to wallow in the understanding that we are already losing, that we have lost so much, and so many to climate change, and the fossil fuel industry. What’s hard is hope. What’s hard is to continue to love, to continue to plough ahead despite the odds, to demand better of our leaders; of ourselves. The Green New Deal is the first thing that has offered me real hope in a very long time. The Green New Deal and it’s “no one left behind” attitude offer us a chance to build the world we want to live in- a world without catastrophic climate change, a world where workers are respected and valued to a higher degree than the resources they’re extracting. A world where having the energy to power our lives doesn’t mean sacrificing entire communities like the Aamjiwnaang, and their children. Where, in order to provide for your family, you don’t first have to sign away your red blood cell count. My heart was first broken in front of that TV when I was little. I’m so ready to put it back together. And I’m going to do that the only way I know how: by working with those I love to try to save my home. We can do that with a Green New Deal, but we need your help, we need your hope, and we need your hands. We need to get to work.

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

So Now I’m Back, From Outer Space

(Kidding, but I did go to The Kennedy Space Centre and I’m obsessed.)

I stopped writing this blog over a year ago. The last two posts here weren’t even originally written for this page, but were op-eds for the school paper that I’d written, once I’d returned to university to finish my undergrad. You see, I’d left school for two years -- largely as a result of being able to reckon with what it meant to study at an institution that cared so little for my future, and that of my fellow students. 

(For a backstory you can control+F “Divestment” and skim any number of pieces I’d vomited forth whilst desperate/angry/disillusioned with the lack of action said institution was taking on climate change.)

There are a myriad of reasons (is this the correct way to use “myriad”?) why I stopped writing as “The Lazy Environmentalist”. Not least among them was that, for a while, I wasn’t sure if I should be speaking up at all -- even if it was just to an audience of a casual dozen. As douchey and self-righteous as it sounds (is) I refer to myself as a climate justice activist or organizer, and a couple years back, I realized I was showing up to climate justice spaces in a pretty shitty way. I figured because I wanted to be there that I should be there. I thought that because I wanted to speak up that I should speak up-- somehow not realizing that my being there meant that I was taking the place of someone else, or that in speaking up I was speaking over other voices. I needed to learn to be quiet. Not silent necessarily, not absent by any means, but simply more aware of my surroundings-- who was missing because I was taking their space, who wasn’t being heard, because I’m so fucking noisy. 

In this way, it was good that I took a break from writing for a little while, because it helped me to see that sometimes (most of the time) my voice isn’t the one that needs to be heard-- especially when it comes to discussions regarding climate change and climate justice. 

I also need to acknowledge that because this whole exercise is largely self-indulgent, when I stopped writing I was really just letting myself off the hook. This blog, like it says in that gross yellow font at the top of the page, exists so I can hold myself to account, and that still rings true. Did I pull out my laptop in a frenzy tonight because I’ve decided that I once again need to stuff my trash in a mason jar and make my mom feel bad for taking me to restaurants that send home leftovers in styrofoam? No-- behaving like that was pointless at best, and harmful otherwise. Me toting around my trash in an instagrammable jar does nothing to reduce the amount of plastic choking a baby Laysan Albatross, and my saint of a mother doesn’t need to carry the guilt of the lack of plastic materials regulation around on her shoulders simply because I don’t feel like finishing my zimarika at our favourite Greek restaurant. 

No. When I say this blog exists to hold me to account I mean that the act of writing is one of the best things I can do when it comes to working against the forces driving climate change. Not because anyone reads this-- we’ve already established no one save my big sister (hey, Kayla) does-- but because its through writing that I force myself to sit with my thoughts and digest the literal constant deluge of terrible news about human-inflicted damage on the planet and all of its inhabitants. When I stopped writing I gave myself permission to be intellectually lazy (not cute, contrary to my chosen moniker). When I say I’ve been in a cognitive fog the last few years I’m not even being that obnoxiously hyperbolic-- I honestly feel like I’ve retreated into a world of podcasts and quickly skimmed news articles-- I’ve eschewed my own ideas and feelings because when things are as desperately, existentially terrifying as they are in the year of our lord (lol, there is no God) 2019, its easier to let someone else, someone smarter, tell you what to feel, what to worry about, and how to think. I think when I opened my laptop 21 minutes ago it was on a whim that maybe thats not what’s best for me anymore. I think if I want to devote my time, my brain, my heart to saving what I can of my home that I need to push myself to dig a little deeper into the recesses of the ole’ lobes (ew?) and try to figure out why I’m here, doing this fucking work in the first place, and also what I fucking mean when I say “this work”. “This work” sounds vague and self-aggrandizing and I’m in a time of my life where I think I need specifics and tangibilities. 

Finally, I stopped writing as “The Lazy Environmentalist” because I wasn’t sure . if that’s who I was anymore. I’m definitely a fucking lazy individual-- even at this moment I’m lying in bed at a somewhat cramped and awkward angle because I can’t be bothered to shift myself into a seated position (lol @ the misfortune of my neck). However, I don’t like the idea of letting myself take the easy way out because I’ve accepted that I am fundamentally a lazy person. Is my aversion to accepting my habitual sluggishness perhaps rooted in questionable puritanical christian societal values? Like, ya probably. Does that mean that it’s a good thing to watch 6 hours of Criminal Minds and tell myself that its okay to buy that dress from Zara because there’s no such thing as ethical consumption under capitalism, so fuck it? No. Obviously. Criminal Minds is gross (though Reid is still hella cute) and fast fashion is terrible for both people and planet (so props to me for actually putting that dress back on the rack last week even though I didn’t look terrible in it and honestly I could use another shapeless sack in my wardrobe).  

As for the “Environmentalist” part of “The Lazy Environmentalist”I also feel more than a little weird about that too. The term is fucking loaded, and carries a lot of terrible history with it. The environmental movement has and still does a really god-awful job of caring about people (despite people being animals - woah who’s really eschewing anthropocentrism now, Tim*?!) But for real, forgetting the fact that from the purely cold, calculating, strategic reality that we can’t save the planet unless we have more people on board with the concept, and that we can’t do that effectively if we don’t speak to those in marginalized communities (those always most at risk to climate catastrophe) environmentalism has been not only ineffective and alienating for a fuck-ton of people over the decades-- environmentalists have been intensely harmful to people -- there are still environmentalists who think the best use of our time is to devastate Northern Communities by rallying against the seal hunt, and pushing veganism in communities that it simply doesn’t make sense for from a cultural/historical/geographic standpoint. Old school preservationist environmentalism is based in super gross settler ideas of manifest destiny, and protecting an “untouched” wilderness, ignoring the fact that Inuit, Anishnaabe, Mi’kmaq, Tsleil-Waututh, Cree, and hundreds of other Indigenous Nations lived QUITE HARMONIOUSLY on this land for EONS (and still do) before we settlers got here, thought of ourselves as separate from the land, parcelled it up, sold it off, decided to ~protect~ a fraction because God said so or whatever, and generally started fucking shit up. 

So yeah, the term Environmentalist kind of makes me feel uneasy, as it should,  because it carries with it a history of violence-- a history that is still being perpetuated today. 

That being said, the term environmentalist also makes me think of my Grandma (cute, right?) I don’t necessarily think she would have considered herself an environmentalist, but she was the single most compassionate, loving person I’ve ever known, and yes I idolize her and hold her to a standard that no one else will ever meet but that’s okay, because she was my Grandma and I’m supposed to think she was perfect and magic. I mention my Grandma (her name was Lecetta) because she’s who made my into a little lazy environmentalist. She took me on trips to see Manatee rehab centres in Florida, walks through the Carolinian forest near her house, and swimming in Lake Huron. On the days we were inside we watched PBS nature documentaries and read books about wildlife in North America and on Saturday mornings she’d sit with me as I sobbed during WWF infomercials in what I realize now was a pretty weird weekly self-flagellation ritual. What I’m trying to say with this bizarre tangent is that the term “environmentalist” still holds some pretty earnest intention for me, and I’m remiss to entirely abandon the roots of what compels me to defend our home. 

So, circling back to what I’d initially tried to start saying with this post- I think I’m going to start writing here again. I think I’m going to see if this helps me be the sort of person I want to be: the still sometimes lazy, but still earnest environmentalist- trying to figure out what my place is- in the movement, in my community, on the planet, and simply within myself. 

*There’s no one named Tim

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

NYC Joins 830 Institutions to Divest From Fossil Fuels Before Mount Allison University

New York City: they say if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere. But for the fossil fuel industry, those 15 minutes of fame are up.

In a Jan. 10 press conference, Mayor Bill de Blasio announced the city’s intentions to divest pension funds from the fossil fuel industry. The city will also bring a lawsuit against five major fossil fuel corporations.

The fossil fuel divestment movement began in 2012, turning into an international campaign lead by climate change activist organization 350.org. Although fossil fuel divestment has primarily been a tool wielded by institutions like churches, unions, and universities, municipalities and entire countries (we see you, Ireland) have divested from the oil and gas industry. New York isn’t the first city to do so, but it’s arguably the highest profile case.

The divestment decision will affect approximately $5 billion of NYC’s $189 billion pension fund, pulling support from 190 fossil fuel corporations that the fund was previously invested in. New York City’s mayor and comptroller announced via press release that they would instruct fund trustees to divest from these 190 companies in “a way that is fully consistent with fiduciary obligations.” These words are important given how often “fiduciary obligations” are thrown around in defence of rejecting divestment. I speak as a biased and disgruntled DivestMTA organizer when I point out these same words have been spoken to me in discussions with Mount Allison President Robert Campbell and Vice-President Finance and Administration Robert Inglis. I say this because it’s a relief to have an increasing number of well-respected, well-informed, wealthy white men to validate issues we’ve been pointing out for several years. Maybe it’s just my liberal-artsy naiveté telling me this time will be different – but perhaps now that the argument is coming from the office of one of the world’s most powerful cities, it will finally be internalized.

Not to be overlooked is the mayor’s announcement of the lawsuit being lodged against the world’s top five investor-owned contributors to climate change: BP, Chevron, ConocoPhillips, Exxon-Mobil and Royal Dutch Shell. The lawsuit itself targets the billions of dollars in damages the city will have to pay to protect citizens from the effects of climate change. When discussing reasons for launching the lawsuit, city representatives talked about the culpability of these corporations and the actions they’d taken over decades to obscure devastating effects of climate change from the public – profiting while sea levels rose and lying about their contributions to it.

Some might consider it uncouth or hyperbolic to draw comparisons between those corporations and Mt. A, but I see a connection. BP and Exxon-Mobil know their role in climate change yet continue to profit from it. So, too, does a university whose administration has full understanding of the risks posed by global warming to its students, surrounding community, and the dollars of endowment contributors, yet still invests with the companies working hardest to put those futures at risk. Further, these are companies with precarious outlooks, given what we know of the possibility of their assets becoming stranded (Google “carbon bubble”).

De Blasio has seen the risk rising sea levels can pose to a coastal community and has acted accordingly to protect those citizens. I’m cautiously hopeful the leadership at Mt. A will do the same, given Sackville’s position on the marshes and its proximity to sea level. Then again, Centennial Hall is unlikely to flood given its position on top of that hill… so perhaps not.

This piece originally appeared in The Argosy on January 18th, 2018

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

Energy East Was Cancelled, and I Promise That’s Good News

Thousands of new jobs and national energy independence were promised to New Brunswickers and all Canadians when plans for the Energy East Pipeline first emerged in 2012. The pipeline proposed by TransCanada Corp was to carry 1.1 million barrels of bitumen (nearly solid, tar-like oil) daily from Alberta to terminals in St. John. The project would have been the largest capacity oil pipeline in North America.

Analysts speculate that the pipeline was cancelled for market-related reasons and the National Energy Board’s recent decision to factor upstream and downstream emissions into its project evaluation. Thanks to the years-long efforts of Indigenous peoples and front-line communities, Energy East would have been the first Canadian project of its kind to undergo this analysis. Previously, the only emissions calculated for a pipeline were those from transporting bitumen from point A to B. As a result, calculations were incredibly inadequate, failing to illustrate the entire horrific Hieronymus Bosch-like picture.

Should global temperatures increase beyond 1.5 to two degrees celsius above pre-industrial levels, it’s been accepted that the 7 billion people on this planet would face catastrophe (though maybe not by those five guys who hold half the world’s wealth). Considering we’ve already experienced an increase in temperatures by one degree, the last thing we need is a pipeline carrying 1.1 million more barrels of the world’s most energy-intensive oil to market every day. The catastrophic global warming that scientists have warned us about since the ‘90s is already here, with the last few months bringing devastation from hurricanes Harvey and Irma, forest fires in BC and California, and deadly heatwaves across the globe.

If this doesn’t scare you, and your concern rests with the economy, note that cited market-based reasons for the cancellation are entirely accurate. There isn’t the market for tar sands oil in 2017 that there was in 2012. The price of oil has dropped to critically low levels; compare today’s price of $50 per barrel with 2012 prices of $110, and it’s easy to understand why TransCanada is no longer super keen to invest $16 billion dollars in the project. With auto manufacturers like Volvo, Land Rover and GM announcing emissions-free fleets by mid-century, and nations like France, Germany and China banning fuel-combustion engines in the coming decades, there isn’t market demand for new infrastructure when typical lifespan for a pipeline stretches into decades.

Although concerns about job losses and energy independence seem legitimate, they fail to reflect the truth, as the majority of jobs created by Energy East were temporary, and 85-90 per cent of the bitumen reaching St. John was destined for foreign markets. Though the oil carried by the pipeline wouldn’t have contributed to the nation’s energy independence, increased support for renewables would. As of 2014, there are already more Canadian jobs in renewables than in the tar sands. In addition to sheer numbers of employment opportunities, professions in wind and solar energy are far less likely to result in labourer illness than those in the fossil fuel industry. With renewables forming the bedrock of the future economy, green sector careers can employ labourers for decades to come.

TransCanada pulling the plug on this project was good news, whether we’re considering social, economic or environmental factors. This pipeline was too costly, and its cancellation frees us to move into a future where renewable energy, safe jobs and the wellbeing of peoples on the front lines of climate change are prioritized.

This piece was originally published as an op-ed in the October 19th issue of The Argosy 

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

TIL The Auditor General’s report states that Cda isn’t on track to meet its (already pathetic) 2020 targets 

When someone says Canadians are lucky to have Justin Trudeau:

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

#tbt (on a Monday) to the raddest birthday concert you ever did see. #solarpowered (at Tatamagouche, Nova Scotia)

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

BAE #solar (at Tatamagouche Centre)

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

Excuse me, have you seen The Feminine Mystique? I've lost my copy. #tempestuous (at Tatamagouche Centre)

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

Shoutout to @kitsunehalifax for putting my yam tempura roll in my @kleankanteen container- and being so sweet about it! Avoiding styrofoam + not having to cook + mad tasty sushi = bliss #plasticfree #styrofoamsucks #zerowaste #northend (at North End, Halifax)

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

Witnessing amazing young people wield their power and speak truth to authority needs #nofilter #divestnow #gofossilfree #occupymta (at Mount Allison University)

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

Misplaced my go to water bottle/latte vessel/awkward leftover caddy, so it's time to return to an old friend. You might not be able to tell from this photo, but the fact that this baby holds 40ounces, coupled with the ridiculous number of stickers, results in this being a somewhat ostentatious statement accessory. #badbottlesforlife #zerowaste @kleankanteen (at Ship Harbour, NS)

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

The Lazy Environmentalist learns code.... but can't figure out how to take a photo in which her image isn't reflected awkwardly in her laptop screen. @learningcode #blogging #coding #writing (at Maritime Centre)

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

Whiney/Whitey

Dear fellow white feminists, 

I’m writing to you today to inform you of something you may not as of yet be aware of. On the chance that you may not have been informed, I’d like to let you know that we don’t get to pull the emotional labour card. 

I suppose I should clarify that when I say “white people” what I really mean is “white people who think you’re woke and don’t want to have to teach people who aren’t as woke as you what it means to be woke.” (also for the love of Roxanne Gay pls stop using the word “woke”)

I’m writing this, dear whitey, because I’ve noticed something of a trend in online forums, threads, and the comment sections of articles lately. More than once, I’ve read the posts or comments of seemingly able-bodied, upper middle class, privileged white cis women lamenting aaaaaaallllllllll of the emotional labour they’re having to perform, and how gosh darn unfair(!!!) it is. And honestly- I’m not sure we get to say that. I’m not entirely sure that it’s all that unfair. 

I’ll admit, yes, when I have to explain to a 30 year old white dude that climate change is indeed caused by people, and that it is indeed an issue embedded in greater systemic oppression of marginalized peoples, non-human animals, and my girl Mother Nature, I would rather stab myself, and him in the neck with a pencil. But here’s the thing- if I don’t have that painful fucking conversation with him, I can’t be sure that anyone else will. And really, as a reasonably affluent, educated white woman, having an agitating conversation with a somewhat uninformed dude is sort of the least I can do considering (to look at just one example) something like 110 Somalians died within a 48 hour period this past week due to climate change related drought, meanwhile, fewer Canadians believe in anthropogenically caused climate change in 2017 than in 2007.  

As white women, who stem from a line of other affluent white women who have dominated wider feminist discourse for the past century and a half, it’s our job now to take a step back and instead amplify those voices of women of colour, trans women, nonbinary, queer folk, and other marginalized peoples. But when we take this step back, it doesn’t mean that we get to relax and cop out- it’s our job now to do the educating, the emotional lifting and hard work that marginalized peoples have been doing (and continue to do) for so long.  

It’s really easy to back out of these conversations with people we might consider ignorant because we don’t consider it our job to educate them- they’re as able bodied and privileged as we are- so why can’t they do the work themselves!? But I’d challenge you to realize that you weren’t always as enlightened as you now profess to be. Once upon a time someone (someone probably less privileged than you) had to take the time, expend their emotional labour explaining new and complex concepts to you. Someone had to work with you to dismantle and shift your paradigm, and now it’s your turn to pay it forward and do the same for someone else. 

Don’t expect a thank you, don’t expect recognition, and don’t think of yourself as some sort of glorious feminist Artemis, saving the world from the evils of man one facebook thread as a time- that isn’t happening either. You’ll probably get lots of eye rolls, the occasional angry/whiny/self-pitying outburst, and when you do, it’s ok to get mad and tell that dude to fuck off. No one’s saying you can’t tell people to fuck off- it’s one of my favourite pastimes, and I wouldn’t try to take that away from you. Just know that this shitty emotional labour is absolutely your job, your cross to bear as a white feminist.  We’re here to support and nurture this movement that we have dominated for so long, and sometimes that will include taking taking an evening away from our scented candles, organic bath scrubs, and feminist podcasts to do a little bit of legwork, emotional or otherwise. 

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

Ink from France is classy, fountain pens are classy, I can only conclude that anything #zerowaste is classy. (at Ship Harbour, NS)

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

Landfill waste for the month of February. I will confirm that is is mostly comprised of receipts, and wrappers from candy. Moral of the story? Stock up on bulk candy when I'm in the city. #zerowaste (at Ship Harbour, NS)

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

Can we like, not fuck up this time though? #revolution (at Ship Harbour, NS)

[thelazyenvironmentalist]

This is what #selfcare like 😍 (at Humani-T Cafe)