Colombia

Miguel: Sacred Rivers?

“Why are churches sacred and rivers not?” - Arhuacan saying

Donkey

We came to the end of the road. The artery of fossil-fueled commerce concluded and a trail disappeared into the Heart of the World. Where it went and what awaited, I wasn’t sure. 

From this point forward, we’d need a donkey. 

And so the journey to research my book on regenerative agriculture began.

Self-isolating (Each land has its magic)

During this time of self-isolating and curve-flattening, we find ourselves removed from the comforts of our normal world. We feel alone, isolated, distant, afraid, and flattened. 

COVID-19 is a reminder that we are part of nature. A tiny little life-form previously unknown to us has brought our world to a stop. 

But removed from our day-to-day world, maybe it’s another world that can give us comfort. The natural world may inflate our flattened souls. 

Last month, I visited with the Arhuaco, an indigenous group in Colombia, to learn about their way of life and connection with the natural world.They told me February was the season of asking permission from the plants, land, and mountains.

To my disappointment, their spiritual capital was closed. Miguel, our Arhuacan guide, consoled me:  “Nabusimake would be better, but this will be very good. Each land has the magic.” 

We followed, the spiritual leader known as a mamu, down a steep ridge. Miguel, cut a path for us with a machete and there was the mamu motioning for us to sit. He gave us things to think about: the earth, our futures, our pasts. The more I sat there, the smaller I became. 

I noticed a highway of ants on the forest floor. I noticed the rhythm of a waterfall somewhere in the distance and the heart in my chest. This world was part of me and I was part of it. The realization made me feel lighter. 

I spent a week in Patagonia next to South America’s second largest lake. The night was as silent as the distant galaxies.

My first night back home, I heard a choir of frogs in my shallow pond sing their first spring song. The stars weren’t as bright, there weren’t any mountains, but Patagonia didn’t have singing frogs. 

We have plenty of time now to slow down and notice where we live, to put ourselves in nature and to get to work on becoming “native to our place” as Wes Jackson would put it. 

Nature is scary as hell in this uncertain time, but each place also offers us comfort and magic, if we take time to notice. 

#sustainablefood #sustainability #sustainableagriculture #regenerativeagriculture #soilhealth #permaculture #regenbook

We don’t want money we want our culture

The Arhuaco no longer allow visitors to their cultural and spiritual capital, Nabusimake. Too many tourists were coming and not respecting the land. Outsiders have advised them to open up to tourism because they could make a lot of money. 

Their response: “We don’t want money. We want our culture.”

Empathy for nature

“The plant is like a human. For example this tomato. When the fruits come out on a plant, that’s like birth.” - Arhuacan Mamu

Our life is sustained by consuming other life. Although the mamu’s words point to an anthropomorphization of plants and nature, their philosophies largely do the opposite. It’s less about thinking of plants as people and more about thinking of people as part of nature. It’s not about seeing the world through our human eyes, but imagining the world from the perspective of a tomato plant, a bird, or a river. The Arhuaco have empathy for nature.

Arhuaco girl:

When a child is born, the Arhuaco bury the placenta in the mountains, so the mountain can recognize the child as their own. The spiritual leaders name the child depending on the weather and time of day.

This tree

“This tree. For you it’s just a tree. But for us it is the home for 20 birds. If you cut it down, you’ll make 20 birds homeless. That’s only one example. And then there are the butterflies.” - Arhuaco

River:

“Every river has a destiny. Every person has a destiny. Each is different.”

sitting at fire with mamu:

The mamu wished that we were indigenous because he said indiegnous everywhere were given knowledge. 

“Our job is to help other indigenous get knowledge back. The only way we can stop climate change is to make people aware of the knowledge we share.”

Mamu & Arhuaco:

“Look at the rivers. Look at the species. Do you think it’s normal for species to disappear or rivers to run dry? We act like we don’t care about the next generation. We are destroying things. Where are our kids going to live and eat, if we destroy nature?” The spiritual leaders of the Arhuaco aren’t afraid to ask the hard questions.

Arhuaco:

“People believe they can grow more food in a shorter time using pesticides or changing rivers. That’s destruction. It’s the opposite of development. The solution is not in the universities. If it was, we would solve the problem. We, [the Arhuaco] have the solution. It’s in knowledge and culture. It’s in the way we act. It’s our decision.”

“the earth without us”

“The problem is not the earth. The earth can live without us. We are going to die. It’s a slow thing. Animals are dying and people are dying. The earth doesn’t need us.”

miguel quote:

“Our culture has a lot of attacks from mining, development, oil. Development wants to change our house, the way we dress. Development leads to climate change. People are very crazy! The snow is disappearing. The obligation isn’t just on indigenous. It’s on all people. We need to improve our neighbors.”

Miguel with mountains:

“The Land communicates to us.” 

The Arhuaco believe that mountains and earth’s sacred places communicate with each other. They describe it as similar to satellites or a cell phone. Their spiritual leaders, the mamu, help guide others to tap into that signal. 

“The mamu working like cell phones. Like an antennae. Like a satellite. The land of the earth works similar. The mamu says, ‘this place is our place. Each sacred place. The land communicates to us.’ ”

Patagonia, Chile

Antoine:

Antoine left his life as an oil executive to become an organic farmer in Patagonia. I met him at a farmer’s market in Puerto Guadal. 

“I reached a professional level that was kind of a goal. It wasn’t as amazing as I thought. And then I started to wonder about other things. I spent one year meditating one hour per day. It’s funny when you realize you have a muscle that you never used--this self-reflection mode. That you are not any more on a rail. Now where do you go?  My life has changed completely. My earnings have been divided by 15. I work a bit more than before. But it’s a much better life than before. There are no regrets. This is a path. Now I can continue evolving and do something more in line with what we think this planet needs. Taking a place more suitable. We think we are above nature, which is a wrong interpretation in the Bible of the Latin word-- Dominus. It’s not that man is supposed to be “dominating” nature. The real translation should be to “take care of.” We were more asked to be caretakers. It’s wiser to be a caretaker and not to think we are the kings of this planet. I’m always smiling a little when I see articles about oil and gas. Most of the people who work in that industry aren’t aware that we passed the conventional oil peak in 2008 at the worldwide level. And this has been a bit compensated by the boom of the shale oil in the US, which seems to have arrived at its peak as well. I believe worldwide production will start going down. So what does that mean? You’ll have less and less fuel every year so you’ll be able to heat your house less and less. Trucks will be able to travel less. Prices of things will go up. It doesn’t scare me because I’m not so dependent on oil, but my sister and mother are in France, and it will be difficult.” 

Antoine 2:

“People lost the habit of cultivation because it is hard work... This land helps connect myself with Don Rosa. The land is very powerful in that sense. Doing things that we started doing 10,000 years ago.” 

I met Antoine, a formal oil exec, in Chilean Patagonia. He moved there a few years ago and partnered with a local woman, Rosa, to start an organic farm.

Antoine’s wife Caroline:

“When I was child I thought when I grew up I would live in Patagonia. It’s harsh. I have a feeling like Patagonia is a person itself. It puts you in a washing machine and drains you out, but it gives you something in exchange that makes you stronger. It’s a difficult place. It’s stronger than you. I was looking for a place that nature was stronger than us. Everything takes up more time. Making bread. You get more grateful. I’ve come to bless my food now. I didn’t do that before.” 

Caroline and her husband Antoine lived around the world before settling in Chilean Patagonia.

Vicky

“Old people cut down the forest and young people leave for the city.” 

Vicky is on staff at Huerto Cuatro Estaciones, a farm introducing regenerative practices in Chilean  Patagonia. Vicky shared how Patagonia was settled. In an attempt to make use of the land the government promoted a program in which settlers were able to keep whatever land they burned. With the nutrients of the forest on the ground, at first the land was prosperous, but soon became overgrazed, depleted, and largely abandoned. With the land degraded and along with it an erosion of farming knowledge, youth left for the city. Vicky, however, is challenging this. She moved from the city to the farm. Previously she worked as a plant breeder for a Japanese company that imported melon. Now the food she grows is the food she sells at the local farmers market in Puerto Guadal. She dreams of owning her own farm.

Maquis waterfall-

These photos from the Maquis waterfall look like we were experiencing unimpeded natural bliss. I mean come on...a gorgeous glacier-fed waterfall cascades into a swimmable infinity pool that overlooks General Carrera Lake in Patagonia! 

BUT….a hydroelectric dam is threatening it all. To hike to this pool we walked up a new road torn into the mountainside. We never saw the dam, but we saw the destruction it was bringing. 

Chilean law seperates water rights from land rights. This has allowed corporations to buy up water rights and do whatever they want with the water. Activists have fought against this, however, even scoring a major win. The Sin Represeas Patagonia (Patagonia without Dams) campaign prevented the damming of the Baker River in 2014. But in many ways the fight continues.

Couple from Easter Island share their thoughts on gardening and the plight of Easter Island:

Kanko and Mahina live on Easter Island. They came to Huerto Cuatro Estaciones on their honeymoon to learn how to regeneratively farm. They hope to start  a farm back home. There aren’t many locally grown vegetables on the island or in the Marquesas where Kanko is from. That wasn’t always the case. Easter Island is a parable of what can happen when a society degrades its environment over generations. First the trees were cut down. Then the soil was depleted. By the time outsiders “discovered” the island, the land only supported a fraction of its previous population.

“Soil erosion accelerated once forest clearing laid the land bare. Crop yields began to fall. Fishing became more difficult after the loss of the native palms whose fibers had been used to make nets. As access to food decreased, the islanders built defensive stone enclosures for their chickens the last food source on the island not directly affected by loss of trees and topsoil. Without the ability to make canoes, they were trapped, reduced to perpetual warfare over a diminishing resource base that ultimately came to include themselves as their society unraveled.”

David R. Montgomery. Dirt: The Erosion of Civilizations (Kindle Locations 2713-2716). Kindle Edition.

Patagonian Internet: 

Patagonian Internet: There’s not a good “connection” on the farm, so I joined Francsico of Huerto Cuatro Estactiones when he needed to email his customers for his upcoming CSA run. To maintain an antenna signal, gauchos travel by horse to fill up generator fuel tanks. I checked my email, but also took the time to write some notes in my moleskine.

Jesu:

Jesu, lost her boyfriend in a climbing accident. She didn’t want to live. “I believed love didn’t exist.” She found her way to Parque de Patagonia where she got a job as a hostess. On her first day she met the man who she recently married, Francisco. She had trained as an architect, and after one month, the park hired her as such. She likes to design places that help humans interact with the wild. She likes art and at first was frustrated that Francisco didn’t read poetry, but then she realized he saw the “beauty and poetry of life, which isn’t just art and words, but also flowers and stars.”

Mate drinking: post about the tradition

I was never given a briefing on how to drink mate, a traditional drink, in parts of South American, until my last day there. Some of the basics: never touch the metal straw, drink until you suck air through the straw, always pass the yerba (cup) back to the server, don’t say thanks unless it is your last round. I’m sure I broke all sorts of rules as each morning the group at the farm would pass around the yerba. 

This was the same time as the corona virus scare  was just starting, but really hadn’t taken hold in South America. Doubt much mate passing is happening now. As I think about the unsanitariness of the practice, I also realize that a sanitary community categorized by isolation, sequestration, may be even more unhealthy for society (during normal circumstances).

There was never a lack of reading material at the farm outhouse. I came across this lovely quote from Gene Logsdon in “Holy Shit: Managing Manure to Save Mankind”:

“...society seems to have become so absorbed in human sexual behavior that it has lost contact with other biological processes. As the old saying puts it, ‘Nothing is more overrated than sex and nothing is underrated as a good healthy bowel movement.’ Not many of us grow up on farms anymore, where, as my mother liked to put it, ‘sometimes the only profit is the manure.’”  

Jesu: on the park garden

”The garden changed my life for sure. Living in the wilderness or near the wilderness and working with interns willing to learn, regenerated my own energy. It changed the climate of my mind.”

Francisco with Angel

Every farmer needs a mentor. Those mentors used to be parents and grandparents. Future farmers grew up on farms farming. Skills, knowledge, and relationship with the land and people are passed down through the generations. But when that cycle is broken, and a generation leaves the land for the city or the field for a factory, that knowledge disappears. An informal network, in-person and online, of regenerative farmers is rising.

Francisco (left) traveled the world looking to learn from farmers before finding a mentor in Ecuador. He spent a year on the farm and then returned to Chile to start the garden in Parque de Patagonia. Eventually, he partnered with his friend Javier to start their own farm, Huerto Cuatro Estaciones. Before he left, he mentored Angel (right), who now manages the garden at the park.

Francisco at confluence:

Francisco walked to the edge of the rapid in sockless crocs and scooped out a handful of water. Water dripped from his beard. People call him Chuck because...well, he looks like Chuck Norris,  everyone thought he was the son of Chuck Norris at the Park. He told me why he loved coming to this confluence of the Baker and Neff rivers:

“All the snow and water from the mountains and ice fields meet here. The birds, glaciers, lakes, and rivers, meet right here.”

 As I sat there, I thought about how to float down the river. I’ve been rafting once and on a few flatwater rivers kayaking. Yet, still, I imagined myself in the middle of the river. The thought was short lived and replaced by another more important one: Why are humans always inserting themselves?

Museum photo:

There’s a wonderful museum in Parque de Patagonia. The first exhibit features the impact humans have made on the world: the loss of species and pollution. A mother of three hurried her kids by a section addressing overpopulation: “Don’t read this. We don’t need to be so depressed.” Ignoring reality isn’t helping. Go in the direction of connection, caring, compassion, empathy. There’s more joy there. More purpose.

World’s best drinking water

“Want to drink the world’s best water?” Francisco asked, as we pulled to the side of the road in the Patagonia National Park. We squatted next to the reeds, scooped a cup, and cheersed to the surrounding snow-capped peaks. 

“It’s so fresh because it’s downstream from a latrine,” Francisco joked, and we proceeded to work on spittakes of the world’s best water. 

At a nearby campsite we saw an American hiker washing her clothes in the stream. Francisco asked her if she was using biodegradable soap. He doesn’t work at the park any longer, but his action as citizen eco-police was a reminder that it’s on us all to protect nature. (Oh and she was using biodegradable soap, but should have been washing her clothes at the sink in the camp.)

a lonely god

According to the indigenous of Patagonia, God made the ocean with his tears. His sigh made the wind. Sunlight came from him tearing the darkness with his arm. He made people because he was lonely. There aren’t many people in Patagonia, and I think that’s one of the things that makes it such a special place.

The Earth Cultivates itself:

“The earth cultivates itself.” - Masanobu Fukuoka in The One Straw Revolution

Machines

Only when our acts are empowered with more than bodily strength do we need to think of limits...a man with a machine and inadequate culture...is a pestilence. He shakes more than he can hold.” - Wendell Berry 

Volunteers at Huerto Cuatro Estaciones mark the fresh bed, which, of course, will be planted by hand.

Farm People:

I don’t think I’m worthy of being counted among “farm people,” but the more I research regenerative agriculture, the more I strive to be.  

Wendell Berry on Farm People: “What happens when farm people take up “off-farm work”? The immediate result is that they must be replaced by chemicals and machines and other purchases from an economy adverse and antipathetic to farming, which means that the remaining farmers are put under yet greater economic pressure to abuse their land. If under the pressure of an adverse economy the soil erodes, soil and water and air are poisoned, the woodlands are wastefully logged, and everything not producing an immediate economic return is neglected, that is apparently understood by most of the society as merely the normal cost of production. This means, among other things, that the land and its human communities are not being thought about in places of study and leadership, and this failure to think is causing damage. But if one lives in a country place, and if one loves it, one must think about it. Under present circumstances, it is not easy to imagine what might be a proper human economy for the country I have just described. And yet, if one loves it, one must make the attempt; if one loves it, the attempt is irresistible.”

Nature!

“That was the thing about Nature! Make one busy rule to describe it an it’ll contradict you even if it has to transmogrify and metamorphosize and bust its ass to do it. And so what? If anybody grew wise enough to grasp the real immutable laws of Nature, Nature’d only rear back and strike ‘em dead before they got anybody to understand them.” - David James Duncan in The River Why

#sustainablefood #sustainability #impact #sustainableagriculture #regenerativeagriculture #soilhealth #permaculture #regenbook

Javier

Javier started Huerto Cuatro Estaciones in the Aysen region of Patagonia with his friend Francisco. 80% of food in the region is imported, and Javier seeks to show that even in the harsh climate of southern Chile, food can be grown. Every month they welcome interns from Chile and around the world. They only accept people who have an interest in taking what they learn and applying it. Javier wants to inspire more famers: 

“I’m not saying you have less value if you don’t have a garden…. [long pause] but people should have a garden. We came from soil. We are soil. The only way to get more people farming is through inspiration.”

Rosita

Rosita farms in the Aysen region of Patagonia with her granddaughter Ignacia. She remembers a time before the roads came to the region. “The roads led to dependency,” she told me, along with a lack of resiliency. A few years ago the main road into the region was closed, and the grocery stores were empty in days. Her ancestors once owned more than 2,000 acres, but sold most of it and moved to the city. 

She was offered $200,000 from a couple who wanted to build their home on her 8 acres overlooking General Carrera Lake. She considered selling. That was a lot of money. She doesn’t own a car and lives in a simple home. But her land also overlooks the cemetery where her grandmother, Safira, is buried. Safira was a famous healer and taught Rosita to garden. 

Passing on what your grandmother taught you to your granddaughter, feeding your family and your community, some things are worth more than money. “This land is a gift,” Rosita said, “and I didn’t want to sell it.”

“They are rich,” Francisco of Huerto Quatro Estaciones told me as we drove away from Rosita’s farm, “and they know it. It gives me hope.”