Jun 21, 2010

Cuba: El Rapido 3

I gaze upwards nervously as the old man rearranges the two lengths of wood and then uses them to haul himself out of the large water tank before descending on a rickety ladder.  He comes over, his boots and hands spattered in grey sludge, smiling - he had to go back in to retrieve his keys!  And of course, he´d be happy to show me round 'El Rapido'.

Antonio Roiy Santo has a cheeky glint in his eyes and a note of purpose to his stride.  One wouldn´t dare suggest to him that at seventy-eight perhaps he should have found someone else to climb up and clean the garden´s water tank.  After a lifetime of determined struggle and resistance you know he´d hear none of it.  He´s an original revolutionary who advanced with Che Guevara in the Ejercicio Rebelde (Rebel Army) to free Cuba from 'Yankee imperialism'.  He introduces his 'younger' compañero (65 years old!) Carlos Alfonso Jimenez.  Together with two other retirees they work the quarter hectare vegetable garden 'El Retiro' in Santi Spiritus, Cuba.

El Retiro captures a lot about Cuba´s unique story of food.  When the Soviet Block collapsed in 1989 Cuba lost 80% of its foreign trade and supply of fuel almost overnight, and the US strengthened its 'blockade'.  Thus began what Fidel declared "The Special Period" of wartime style austerity measures in peacetime.  Without the cash, food, oil or fertilizer imports to fully support its population the average daily calorie intake plummeted, reaching a low of 1,863 (74% of the recommended amount)  in 1993 [1].  Verging on starvation the people began to raise animals in their houses and grow food wherever they could and with government acting midwife a national urban agriculture movement was born - of necessity.  So goes the story.  The 'organoponico' is in many ways the face of this movement: urban or peri-urban plots of raised vegetable beds, the name was coined when hydroponic grow beds, their imported nutrient solution no longer affordable, where filled with compost.

In El Rapido´s neat rows grow a wide selection of vegetables, herbs and medicinal plants: lechuga (lettuce); acelga (chard); rábano (raddish); remolacha (beetroot); zanahoria (carrot); espinaca (spinach); nabo (turnip); pepino (cucumber); berro (watercress); apio (cellery); cebollino (spring onion); aji (sweet chilli pepper; culantro (corriander); comino (cumin); perejil (parsley); orégano (oregano); aloe vera.  Shade netting covers the younger plants.  Biological pest control methods are used, including: application of an anti-parasitic spray made from Neem tree leaves; planting bug repelling, bug predator attracting and 'sacrificial' plants (such as sunflowers) at the end of each row; and using 'trampas de color' (colour traps) of yellow sheets painted in motor grease.   Water, "the most difficult thing", is pumped from a well with an electric pump - at first a windmill pump was used, but wasn´t effective in the slight urban winds.  It fills the tank, just cleaned, and from there a patched-together pipe system distributes it around the beds.

The site was previously a bus terminal parking lot.  It took just seven days to convert it, Antonio proudly explains, because the whole of the surrounding community helped out, placing the old cattle feeding troughs and filling them with gravel and earth.  It is part of the urban fabric, donating produce to the local hospital and children´s groups (circulos infantiles), and collecting organic waste from nearby houses to compost.  Children, teenagers and university students spend time there learning the basics.

Produce also goes to the four workers, of course, and the rest is sold at the little kiosk on site.  I ask whether they make a good living - they may be retired, but it´s hard to survive on the state pension of only around 100 pesos per month ($4 USD).  "It´s a good retirement, but we earn more than money" replies Antonio, who clearly loves the work.  They earn 800 pesos each per month ($33 USD) after expenses - El Rapido is completely self-financing.  That´s a good income in Cuba, where a doctor´s state salary is equivalent to only $40 USD per month.  Added to this are the savings they make on groceries - in Cuba food is perhaps the largest single expense for most families.

This tiny ex-parking lot contains many of the lessons from Cuba´s experience.  It shows the risks of industrial and import-based food supply and how important low-input urban agriculture becomes if this supply is interrupted.  It shows how a strong community can pull together to start growing food locally almost overnight.  It shows how crucial gardeners and farmers become when fossil fuels are scarce - with food prices and growers wages to match.  It perhaps also shows the limits of government central planning.  While state support helped to facilitate and organise a grassroots movement in Cuba, its efforts to control prices have perhaps recently hindered its growth.  One expert described a 'trading bottleneck' caused by government legislation in 2008 that forbade the nascent practice whereby urban agriculturists were importing additional produce from the countryside, to offer a wider selection to their customers.  Now groups like El Rapido can only sell their produce on site, and only their own produce. 

Many Cubans working in agriculture view sustainable, low-input practices as a continuation of the revolution: if the country is to protect its freedom it cannot allow its basic necessities, especially food, to be in the hands of a few external suppliers.  Seen in this way Antonio may have switched his Rebel Army rifle for a spade but the uniform still fits.
__________

[1] Data on Special Period import and calory reductions from the book Agriculture In The City, Cruz and Sanchez.

Colombia: Arteambigua 2

Arteambigua´s huerta (market garden) is nestled into the hillside barrio of Itagui, on the outskirts of Medellin.  As I scamble down the dirt path I´m surrounded by the sounds of kids having fun, from the school playground further up the slope and the dusty community football pitch below.  The gate is unlocked - as always, I discover - and I am soon sitting on a hand-made garden seat, in the shade of the bamboo, while Carlos Edimer Sanchez tells me about their group.

"I grew up coming here as a kid", Carlos tells me.  "We used to steal tangerines from the tree over there."  In the nineties the site was home to a woman´s cooperative, which grew vegetables, baked bread to sell and received support from the local authorities.  When this dried up the cooperative left, and the tangerine thieves decided to form a group to inherit the project.  Arteambigua - an amalgam of Arte+Ambiente+Guadua (Art+Environment+Bamboo) - has thirteen official members, aged between 19-27, and a wider group of young people informally involved, turning up to help out or join in with the many activities they hold.  Kids still get the tangerines, but in exchange for kitchen waste they bring to compost.

The garden produces a year round supply of fresh vegetables - a blessing of Colombia´s equatorial climate - to which are added around 15 eggs per day from the chickens and two and half litres of milk from their two french alpine goats.  The latter takes them a hour to milk.  "We don´t yet have the skills of the campesinos (peasant farmers)" Carlos admits "so it takes us ages!"  Many of the families in the surrounding community are former campesinos, driven from the countryside by larger plantations or the ongoing violence, so there is an appreciation of what Arteambigua are doing.  Local gardens often have veg plots, sometimes goats and hens.  Arteambigua has supported this through seed swaps and demonstrations.  They run theatre workshops, musical evenings and events.

To support themselves they set up a craft workshop, kitted out through a small grant, where they demonstrate just how much you can make from Bamboo, from furniture to musical instruments.  In one corner there´s an impressive tableau of huge bamboo insects - crickets, spiders, dragonflies - many fitted as desk or wall lamps, which are sold at fairs and boutiques.  As he talks Carlos is crafting a small model spider from fine wire, a bead for the body.  How long does each one take?: "A few hours, but I'm a beginner.  Some of the others would turn one of these out in ten minutes."

The largest source of income comes from a tree nursery (vivero), set up three years ago.  The site, two minutes walk uphill, was leased to them by the local authority ('alcaldía' in spanish) on agreement that they will provide 80,000 saplings supplied at cost.  Carlos will be happy when the obligation is completed this year, allowing them to focus on a growing number of paying customers.  Output has increased from 20,000 in 2008 to 35,000 last year with an expected 80,000 by the end of 2010.

One question hangs over the project: how long before the property developers start to eye Arteambigua´s tiny plots of land? "We´ve had to move production from one side of the vivero" he explains, "to make way for a housing development".  "Are you not scared you will soon be kicked out?", I ask.  "So far the alcaldía has supported us.  We are a strong group and we are working to build so much community support that they won´t be able to get rid of us".  Yet it would be nice if they could aford to buy the huerta for themselves "in case a more capitalistic alcadía changes its mind in the future" he says.  The sum they would need? Thirty million colombian pesos - the equivalent of 15,000 US dollars.  What a small sum, from the perspective of England or the USA, to secure such a hopeful patch of urban sustainability.

Cuba: Patio de Justo 2

Justo invites me from the bright, hot Havana street with its colonial terraces into his high-ceilinged living room, retakes his seat at the table and continues to peel garlic.  It's dark and cool - the Spanish understood a little about thermal mass - and has the Cuban contrast of grandiose peeling plaster rosettes above humble brick-a-brack furnishings, which look slightly lost in their grand surroundings.

I´m here to see his roof garden so we step over chickens in the back yard and climb a rickety ladder.  The brick roof has been recoated - a three layer process of cement/lime, varnish and finally paint - and down the middle stands a row of strange pods that gush with herbs and small fruit trees, which I quickly recognise as old life raft casings.  To one side is a small kitchen area and to the other a row of rabit hutches, both roofed.

He talks me through the plants: lettuce, chives, sweet chili peppers, tomatoes (22 lbs from one plant this season) amongst others, and herbs like albahaca (basil), oregano and time.  There are dwarf lemon and guayaba trees that he is cultivating, removing alternating halves of the root structure annually to keep them small but full-fruiting.  It's a lovely space, lush and breezy, overlooking the rooftops and the kids playing baisball in the street below.

Justo is in his forties and learnt permaculture in the mid nineties with the Fundación Antonio Núñez Jiménez (FANJ).  In 1997 he decided with some others to start Club de los Azoteros (Azotea = rooftop terrace).  They thought more Cubans should make use of their rooftops and grow food there as well if possible.  Unfortunately the architects they invited to the initial planning meeting disagreed, horrified at the thought of fragile centenarian masonry sprouting weighty trees.  Thankfully on visiting an example the architects soon relaxed - though it was an understandable concern in this country of fast crumbling edificios.  The back and older half of Justo's roof remains bare, too unstable to utilize.

The club was launched, averaging fifteen rooftops and growing recently to twenty three.  "It´s been great" says Justo: sharing seeds, knowledge, activities, helping each other out.  "If you cannot close a cycle [linking up ecological cycles is one of the aims of permaculture] in your own home you can often do it within the group" he explains, giving the example of the rabbit feed he has received from others in the past.

As tempting as it might be, club members don´t sit round on their azoteas all day.  Outreach has included holding monthly food fairs, inviting neighbours to try home-cooked dishes with ingredients picked fresh from the roof.  "Cubans have a terrible habit of dismissing new food!" he says - one area that hasn´t embraced the revolutionary mindset, perhaps. "It is a highly traditional culture at this small scale of daily diet".  This is a problem for urban agriculture because much of the growable food is outside of this tradition.  Cubans do not really 'do' salads.  Pork, rice and beans is more the norm.  But once you get people to actually try things that can change: "'This is really good with albahaca' they´ll say, and once they have the motivation and they will grow it."  Whats more, "We realised that those we couldn´t attract with the permaculture ideas, we could do it through cooking!"

One of the greatest successes of the group, Justo explains, was working in an old persons home.  "I learnt a lot about the false concepts of old age", he says: the tendency for those in the 'third age' to tell themselves, or be told by their family, that they are too old for this or that.  Those interested were taught permaculture and were soon sowing and harvesting in the small garden they created, with almost no direction from Justo, and encouraging others to join in.  Despite their age they were more than open to new foods and ways of doing things.  "There are old people who are very young in energy" he says.  "Like Fidel." I note, smiling, who delighted fans and frustrated enemies alike with fifty years of full throttle leadership.

Pointing to the lattice of vine, Justo explains that for him this is the principle element.  It provided 600 lbs of grapes one year, the leaves are good rabbit food and he believes they should be promoted across Cuba as an energy saving technology - the pleasant shade can keep the house below it up to 8 degrees Celsius cooler, saving hours of air-conditioning.

He has found the government to be open and supportive of urban agriculture, especially during the Special Period [1], and feels that a lack of finance is what is now slowing progress.  With that in mind the Club applied for and received funding from a swiss NGO, for two years so far with a hoped-for third if the upcoming appraisal goes well.  The tensions of Cuba's two currency system and half-open economy are apparent here as everywhere: Justo earned four hundred times as much - yup, that´s 400 times - working for three months for a foreign-funded project, with a salary in the dollar-tied 'Convertables' currency, as he did in six months on a government funded project paying him in 'Pesos Nacionales'.

After a wonderfully mixed career as state economist, radio technician, drug-rehabilation office - "I have a problem: I like everything!" - Justo is thoroughly enjoying his latest incarnation as a permaculture teacher and facilitator.  "We must flower where God has put us", he says, continuing to peel his garlic.  Be that in back yards or on rooftops.
________

[1] Decade beginning 1989 when collapse of the Soviet Block put severe stress on Cuba´s economy and food supply.

________

Q&A: Justo Torres

1) What wisdom to we need for the 21st century?
"The rediscovery of love.  We´ve lost so much love."

2) What is broken in our relationship to plants?
"The spirit of man is broken.  The plants are there and waiting for us.  We´ve lost the capacity to interact in harmony with them, when we converted to industrialists."

3) What gives you hope?
"Faith in humanity.  I have faith in God, certainly, but I also have faith in humankind... or I want to have faith."

4) What stands in the way of that hope?
"The stupidity of humanity, which is as infinite as the universe.  I´m paraphrasing Albert Einstein, who said 'There are only two infinite things: the universe and mankind´s stupidity'."

5) What should we celebrate about being human?
"The fact that we´re still alive after committing so many disasters.  It´s almost a miracle!  Atomic bombs, pollution, wars, everything. A miracle!  My vision is global.  I´m a citizen of the earth. Everything is so interconnected that there is nothing we can do that doesn´t affect everything else.  The is the vision we are lacking!  Our responsibility is to act locally without ever loosing this global vision.  I´m playing my part by caring for this little part of Cuba in my own city.  All the problems come from us so all the answers can come from us."

May 23, 2010

Cuba: El Rapido

I gaze upwards nervously as the old man rearranges the two lengths of wood and then uses them to haul himself out of the large water tank before descending on a rickety ladder.  He comes over, his boots and hands spattered in grey sludge, smiling - he had to go back in to retrieve his keys!  And of course, he´d be happy to show me round 'El Rapido'.

Antonio Roiy Santo has a cheeky glint in his eyes and a note of purpose to his stride.  One wouldn´t dare suggest to him that at seventy-eight perhaps he should have found someone else to climb up and clean the garden´s water tank.  After a lifetime of determined struggle and resistance you know he´d hear none of it.  He´s an original revolutionary who advanced with Che Guevara in the Ejercicio Rebelde (Rebel Army) to free Cuba from 'Yankee imperialism'.  He introduces his 'younger' compañero (65 years old!) Carlos Alfonso Jimenez.  Together with two other retirees they work the quarter hectare vegetable garden 'El Retiro' in Santi Spiritus, Cuba.

El Retiro captures a lot about Cuba´s unique story of food.  When the Soviet Block collapsed in 1989 Cuba lost 80% of its foreign trade and supply of fuel almost overnight, and the US strengthened its 'blockade'.  Thus began what Fidel declared "The Special Period" of wartime style austerity measures in peacetime.  Without the cash, food, oil or fertilizer imports to fully support its population the average daily calorie intake plummeted, reaching a low of 1,863 (74% of the recommended amount)  in 1993 [1].  Verging on starvation the people began to raise animals in their houses and grow food wherever they could and with government acting midwife a national urban agriculture movement was born - of necessity.  So goes the story.  The 'organoponico' is in many ways the face of this movement: urban or peri-urban plots of raised vegetable beds, the name was coined when hydroponic grow beds, their imported nutrient solution no longer affordable, where filled with compost.

In El Rapido´s neat rows grow a wide selection of vegetables, herbs and medicinal plants: lechuga (lettuce); acelga (chard); rábano (raddish); remolacha (beetroot); zanahoria (carrot); espinaca (spinach); nabo (turnip); pepino (cucumber); berro (watercress); apio (cellery); cebollino (spring onion); aji (sweet chilli pepper; culantro (corriander); comino (cumin); perejil (parsley); orégano (oregano); aloe vera.  Shade netting covers the younger plants.  Biological pest control methods are used, including: application of an anti-parasitic spray made from Neem tree leaves; planting bug repelling, bug predator attracting and 'sacrificial' plants (such as sunflowers) at the end of each row; and using 'trampas de color' (colour traps) of yellow sheets painted in motor grease.   Water, "the most difficult thing", is pumped from a well with an electric pump - at first a windmill pump was used, but wasn´t effective in the slight urban winds.  It fills the tank, just cleaned, and from there a patched-together pipe system distributes it around the beds.

The site was previously a bus terminal parking lot.  It took just seven days to convert it, Antonio proudly explains, because the whole of the surrounding community helped out, placing the old cattle feeding troughs and filling them with gravel and earth.  It is part of the urban fabric, donating produce to the local hospital and children´s groups (circulos infantiles), and collecting organic waste from nearby houses to compost.  Children, teenagers and university students spend time there learning the basics.

Produce also goes to the four workers, of course, and the rest is sold at the little kiosk on site.  I ask whether they make a good living - they may be retired, but it´s hard to survive on the state pension of only around 100 pesos per month ($4 USD).  "It´s a good retirement, but we earn more than money" replies Antonio, who clearly loves the work.  They earn 800 pesos each per month ($33 USD) after expenses - El Rapido is completely self-financing.  That´s a good income in Cuba, where a doctor´s state salary is equivalent to only $40 USD per month.  Added to this are the savings they make on groceries - in Cuba food is perhaps the largest single expense for most families.

This tiny ex-parking lot contains many of the lessons from Cuba´s experience.  It shows the risks of industrial and import-based food supply and how important low-input urban agriculture becomes if this supply is interrupted.  It shows how a strong community can pull together to start growing food locally almost overnight.  It shows how crucial gardeners and farmers become when fossil fuels are scarce - with food prices and growers wages to match.  It perhaps also shows the limits of government central planning.  While state support helped to facilitate and organise a grassroots movement in Cuba, its efforts to control prices have perhaps recently hindered its growth.  One expert described a 'trading bottleneck' caused by government legislation in 2008 that forbade the nascent practice whereby urban agriculturists were importing additional produce from the countryside, to offer a wider selection to their customers.  Now groups like El Rapido can only sell their produce on site, and only their own produce. 

Many Cubans working in agriculture view sustainable, low-input practices as a continuation of the revolution: if the country is to protect its freedom it cannot allow its basic necessities, especially food, to be in the hands of a few external suppliers.  Seen in this way Antonio may have switched his Rebel Army rifle for a spade but the uniform still fits.
__________

[1] Data on Special Period import and calory reductions from the book Agriculture In The City, Cruz and Sanchez.

__________

Enjoyed 'El Rapido'?  More stories from throughout Latin America on their way:
  • The eye poppingly productive micro family farm in Colombia
  • Teasing Hindhu vegetables up from the sand in Peru
  • The Seed Guardians rescuing genetic gems in Ecuador
If those teasers have got your taste buds working, then SIGN UP below for an email when GrowingWiser goes live later this summer.
(your email will remain completely private, used only to notify you about GrowingWiser)


Enter your Email







Preview | Powered by FeedBlitz

Colombia: Colombia En Hechos 2

There is no danger of forgetting the 'urban' part of the 'urban agriculture workshop'.  It is being held by Colombia En Hechos (CEH) at their headquarters, squeezed rudely close beside a six-lane artery in the the middle of sprawling Bogota.  The honks and grunts of irate motorists fade into the background, though, in the pleasantly colourful restaurant with its adjoining organic veg store.  Soon Margarita Olarte Zethelius is showing us how to make plant trays from two litre coke bottles and fold seed envelopes from sheets of paper.  It doesn´t seem like world-changing stuff.  Yet later, outside on the sidewalk, as the group builds tyre grow-beds and suspended sausage planters we attract plenty of attention from passers by, and coaxing a tiny strip of living space from between concrete and brick sounds a note of heroic optimism that perhaps is heard somewhere through Bogota´s choking streets.

Such optimism is clearly one of Margarita´s strengths and I can feel her positivity energize the room when she enters.  Pretty, with dark hair and freckles, she explains how Colombia En Hechos got started.  She and her now husband Nicolas had been biology students.  During research trips,  immersed in Colombia's amazing natural riches, they began to wonder how they could make an impact socially to help with wildlife conservation.  So they started to put on plays and produce educational material, for both village communities and city schools.  They were clearly good at it and soon large wildlife NGOs such as Conservation International wanted to work with them - "Start a formal organisation" they urged.  Having, understandably in hindsight, been refused the right to register 'Hecho en Colombia' ('Made in Colombia'), 'Colombia En Hechos' was born, which translates roughly as Colombia In The Making.  And this before either of them even graduated.

Primarily a conservation organisation, CEH uses a multi-disciplinary approach to environmental education, trying to increase communities' understanding and value of the natural world and equip them with sustainable alternatives.  Their major project is "Pandora Ecologica", a touring education display based on didactic games they have developed.  This grew out of their first paid work on the Rosario Islands off Colombia's Caribbean coast.  Since this they have connected with the ecovillage network and expanded their their remit to include permaculture teaching and consultancy.

Margarita explained their methodology for community work.  First they identify three things: (1) where they are working, mapping the area; (2) the needs of the community and various stakeholders, digging down from perhaps initial responses such as ´more money´ to find the real requirements such clean water, good food, security of income; and (3) resources available to the community.  While it is often a single endangered species, such the sea turtle, that sets the context, CEH always approaches with this holistic schema.  Then they may help the community to write up a 'Conservation Agreements', for protection of the wildlife, in exchange for training and support in sustainable living: permaculture food production, clean water provision etc.  It can be tough going. "At times people look at the Blackberry and laptop and think ´look at her making lots of money´" says Margarita, "but I need these for my work and they are not me.  You work with your heart in a community and soon they are growing carrots and coriander where it was practically a desert before and people are grateful because you have helped to show them an alternative."

Margarita and Nicolas have evolved from scientists to storytellers.  They will use every creative tool they can find to engage people in the wonder of nature, engender a desire to protect it (and therefore themselves) and help them to do this.  "One of the most important things we can all do is tell the stories of people that are living well and doing good things, that will make a wave of hope." she says.  This sensitivity to the power of our collective narrative makes Margarita wary of climate change, in a way that I find a little shocking to hear from a biologist.  "I think its a very dangerous weapon." she says.  "We can use it now because people are afraid.  And that´s really sad because it´s like war: 'I´m afraid so I´m going to do something'.  But it´s not really an evolution of human beings."

Here is the story that drives this biologist and storyteller; the more positive tale of human life evolving to a higher level of consciousness, of finally developing an ecological sensitivity, an appreciation of our place within an awesome web of life.  "Maybe I am mystical, but it is about human evolution." she says. "Life will go on without humans, or perhaps we can use our technology and build huge greenhouses and survive.  But, when you see the connection that we can have with nature, when you see evolution and you see how a flower evolves with a bee... that´s much more interesting".

__________

Name:
Colombia En Hechos
Description: environmental education charity
Founded: 2000
Founders: Margarita Olarte Zethelius
Current Members: founders plus employees on project by project basis
Land: headquarters in Bogota; Reserva Marimonte; Reserva Fallín 
Food output: n/a 
Other ouput: n/a 
Activities: consultancy, educational workshops, community education projects 
Income sources: workshops, small restaurant and vegetable shop at headquarters, consultancy, educational outreach paid for by charities or government.