 From Mike Adams at NaturalNews.com
From Mike Adams at NaturalNews.com
The fragility of our modern human civilization did not become clear to  me until I began living full-time in South America. As a resident of  Vilcabamba, Ecuador, I've grown accustomed to the idea of knowing 
where the things I consume come from.
The  water I drink, for example, comes from a hole in the ground that taps  into a water table replenished by the clouds hanging over the Podocarpus  National Forest to the East. I can make a logical connection between  the clouds, the rainfall, and the 
water  in my glass. And if the well pump fails, I know I can always carry a  bucket to the river a few hundred meters away and scoop up virtually  unlimited quantities of water that recently fell out of the sky.
During  a recent trip to Tucson, however, I found myself hesitating when I  turned on the kitchen faucet. I paused, marveling at the magic of this  water which apparently appears from nowhere. And it's always there,  reliable and uninterrupted. That's when I noticed myself asking the  commonsense question: "Where does the water come from around here?"
I had no idea.
The  realization astonished me. I lived in Tucson for over five years and  yet the thought suddenly occurred to me that if the water stopped  magically flowing out of these pipes, 
I had absolutely no idea where to physically find water beyond the bottled water in the 
grocery stores, and that wouldn't last very long.
Sure, I know where the 
rivers  are in Tucson, but these desert rivers are bone dry river beds for all  but a few days of the year. And yes, I know how to get water out of  cactus, but it's hard work, and the water isn't pure water. Try to live  off cactus juice for a few days and you'll end up with severe diarrhea  (which is dehydrating).
This thought never hit me when I lived in 
America, but now it struck me hard: 
Life in many U.S. cities is extremely fragile. Much of the abundance and convenience of city 
life is pure illusion, conjured up by a system of underground pipes that deliver water to your 
home and another set of pipes that magically dispose of your flushed liquid waste. A set of wires brings 
electricity that makes your home livable (at the great expenditure of energy for heat or cooling), and cheap 
gasoline makes it possible for fresh produce to magically appear in the grocery stores that feed us all with 
food from who-knows-where.
Take away any one of these -- electricity, water, sewers, 
fuel, food -- and virtually every U.S. city becomes an urban death trap for all its citizens.
It's not just Tucson, either: 
The entire American Southwest is extremely fragile  when it comes to supporting life. The same story holds true with  Phoenix, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, San Diego and many other cities and  towns of all sizes. The 
population currently living in the Southwest 
USA  is far greater than what those geographic regions could support on  their own: It is the mass-importation of water, electricity, food and  fuel that makes life possible there.
And all those mass imports are extremely fragile.
The  flipside of this problem exists across Northern USA and Canada, where  extremely cold winters make these regions unlivable without the steady  importation of heating fuel. Most Americans and Canadians would freeze  to death in less than a week if left without some ability to heat their  homes during a severe 
winter  freeze. Very few people (in the cities especially) still have  free-standing, non-electric wood-burning stoves or effective fireplaces  that can keep them warm and alive during such an outage. Most of the  younger generation has never even chopped wood! (And wouldn't know where  to start if they had to...)
The illusion of progress hides the frailty of complex civilizations
As  U.S. cities have become increasingly complex and population dense, they  have simultaneously become alarmingly fragile. Just one small break in  the supply lines -- or one severe disruption in a single essential input  -- can ripple through the entire system, causing widespread  catastrophe.
I found this difficult to see when living in the USA. Everything 
seems  fine on the surface. The water always appears when you turn on the  faucet. Electricity seems ever-present. Food is magically replaced on 
store  shelves each night (apparently by sleepless Elves of some kind) and no  matter how much gasoline you pump out of the gas station, it always  seems to have more!
But what if these essentials stopped? Could  YOU survive for even one weekend without store-bought food, water  pressure in your home, fuel, electricity and internet access?  Increasingly, the honest answer is simply "No".
(This isn't an  article about survival, by the way. But if you're interested in the  concept of "surviving and thriving," then check out the "surthrival"  website of Daniel Vitalis at 
www.Surthrival.com )
Our modern world lacks redundancy
In the quest for complexity, specialization and profit, our modern 
civilization  has completely forgotten about redundancy. There is almost no slack in  the systems that deliver your food, fuel, electricity, water or consumer  products. That means if something goes wrong, even for a little while,  you'll need to depend on yourself to provide these things. Yet how many  people have the ability to provide all these essentials for themselves  -- disconnected from the grid -- for even as little as one weekend?
Very few, it turns out. And that leads to one giant, disturbing realization: 
When the next great disruption occurs, the vast majority of the population will panic.  That's because they're unprepared. They have unknowingly bet their  lives on the reliability of just-in-time delivery systems and complex  infrastructure interdependencies. When the water stops flowing, or the  electricity goes off, or the gasoline runs out, they literally will have  no idea what to do.
The very idea that such a thing could happen will be entirely foreign to them. It's as if they've all been living in 
The Truman Show  (a Jim Carey film, one of my favorites) then suddenly the veil is  lifted and they're shown the real world. In the real world, water  doesn't just automatically flow through your pipes. Fuel doesn't  materialize into existence out of nowhere. Food isn't mysteriously  teleported to your local store each night while you 
sleep.  In the real world, food, fuel, energy and water all depend on a long,  intricate web of interdependent processes, and there isn't a person  living today who truly understands the complexity of those dependencies.
In essence, 
we are all living a civilization experiment.  It's an experiment that asks the question, "What happens if we all  become specialists and give up our redundancies in the pursuit of higher  specialized production?"
The cost of specialization
Let me rephrase it more simply: A hundred years ago, almost everybody was a 
farmer. If your neighbor's 
garden  crop failed, that was no big deal because you had some extra garden  food to share with them. But as society became more "advanced" and  complex, people became specialists: Forklift operators, grocery store  checkout clerks, bank 
paper pushers, auto alarm installers, and so on.
Importantly, in this process 
they all lost the knowledge of how to grow their own food, or fetch their own water, or heat their own 
homes.  Instead, they pursued their own narrow specialized skills and traded  their time (and money) for bits and pieces of other peoples' special  skills, some of which include delivering the essentials we all need to  survive. A newspaper journalist, for example, doesn't need to grow her  own food. She writes stories that farmers want to read, and in exchange,  she eats some of the food they grow. The medium of exchange for all  this is called "money," of course.
As you can see, however, this specialization 
results in 
the mass loss of basic living knowledge  such as how to raise chickens, how to prune fruit trees or how to plant  garden seeds. I'm actually forcing myself to re-learn many of these  basic skills now in 
Ecuador, and I'm finding myself astonished at how little I really knew about living off the land...
This  loss of practical knowledge sets up precisely the kind of situation I  hinted at earlier, where a disruption in the complex systems that  deliver our essentials results in the masses panicking because they have  no clue what to do. They've never had to use live-off-the-land skills,  so they don't even know where to begin.
Where can you find water  within walking distance? How to build a water filter out of a plastic  barrel, some sand and some old tree stumps? How do you repair a flat  tire on a bicycle without changing the inner tube? How do you protect  your garden veggies from insects or rodents without using chemical  pesticides? These are the kinds of things that 
most people just don't know,  and yet in a breakdown emergency, these are precisely the kinds of  skills that are desperately needed. (They're the skills your 
parents or grandparents probably knew very well, but have since been largely abandoned...)
Skills matter
The upshot of all this is that 
it's a good idea to acquire some essential preparedness skills so that you don't find yourself a complete noob when the lights go out. And this isn't about acquiring just 
stuff (gadgets and the like), it's about developing 
skills and know-how. Skills beat stuff any day.
For  example, by working alongside some of the locals I've hired in Ecuador,  I've learned how to cut wire without a wire cutter. I've learned how to  repair irrigation pipes without pipe clamps (just using bailing wire  and a nail). I've learned how to build water troughs out of bamboo and  how to make a decent roof covering out of dried sugar cane leaves. It's  all the more curious given that I came to Ecuador from what people call  an "advanced nation" (the USA) and yet found myself clueless in so many  areas that are considered common knowledge by the people of this  "developing nation" (Ecuador).
I can tell you this: In a  prolonged crisis, rural Ecuadorians will out-live USA city-dwellers by a  hundred to one. Many skills that we might consider "advanced  preparedness skills" in the USA are everyday knowledge to the  Ecuadorians I know. There is much to learn from these knowledgeable  people.
Come visit Southern Ecuador some time if you'd like to  learn more for yourself. In cooperation with the local tourism bureaus, I  plan to cover several tourist events and destinations throughout  Ecuador in 2010. Watch for those announcements here on 
NaturalNews. For starters, the primary cities / towns to visit in Southern Ecuador include Loja, Zamora, Cuenca and 
Vilcabamba, where I live.