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A bit about Fukuoka Farming

“The reason that man’s “improved” (farming) techniques seem to be necessary is that the natural balance has been so badly upset beforehand by those same techniques that the land has become dependent on them.” From “One Straw Revolution” by Masanubo Fukuoka Read the rest of this entry »

My initial impressions of Spain were ones of foreign-ness and wonder. Through my interactions with people in different parts of the country and observations of culture, fashion, and life in Spain those virgin impressions were quick to neutralize. The more I learned about Spain, and more specifically Read the rest of this entry »

Whilst digging out an unused terrace in the Sierra Nevadas I unearthed a pit of aluminum cans, plastic containers, rubber shoes, and other such rubbish. My initial reaction was one of disgust and disbelief. Standing on this trash heap I looked out in front of me at the sweeping view of a majestic mountain range, and I wondered how people could just trash such a beautiful place. I was bearing witness to the tail end of a phenomenon that is quite prevalent in developing nations, but has been effectively “swept under the rug” in nations that have the economic means to do so. Imagine if you will a culture that has lived directly off the land for centuries. Unlike the modern world, they have no “garbage”. Everything they had was either indefinitely useful or when “used up” was returned to from which it came, the land. Thus retaining it’s usefulness by acting as fertilizer.

Now take this culture and pump their towns and villages full of one-time-use plastic packaging and disposable products without any sort of education or warning about the biodegradability or environmental and human toxicity of these products. What do you get? The famous Andulucia trash heaps on beautiful hillsides, people dumping used motor oil anywhere they could, and all sorts of accompanying health issues. Might I add that environmental awareness is not a natural concept because in a natural setting with natural products, etc. the environment does a great job regulating and balancing itself and is therefore completely unnecessary. For what need is there for a remedy for a malady that does not exist, one might analogize. All common sense stuff I’m covering here, which is why it is so amazing that it is still such a huge issue in so much of the world.

The pact of forgetting was instituted after the death of Fransisco Franco the fascist dictator of Spain. It was an agreement that the supporters of Franco would not be prosecuted for their crimes and injustices committed during his reign. It was adhered to in 1977 and accompanied an amnesty law. Franco being a supporter of Hitler during WW2 built a regime in Spain that had concentration camps, political prisoners, executions, and torture. Despite the atrocities of Franco he was recruited as an ally of the states by Eisenhower during the cold war in 1959.

Albeit a good alternative to more violence or injustices it had some negative consequences in that through technicalities and loop holes it left a lot of the fascists with considerable influence. In my interactions with locals in Andulucia I learned that the police in particular are the greatest evidence of the still prevalent corruption. Residents I spoke with regaled stories of corruption within the town hall through structure and actions, read mini-post: Cigaronez, Anarchists in Andulucia.

The local market in a little town called Orgiva that I frequented on a weekly basis became a real life illustration for me of a very serious issue that is hugely prevalent yet almost completely imperceptible to the city dweller in developed nations. This issue being a byproduct of consumerism, and ultimately greed is something that in one way or another affects every person who is reading this. My first time wandering through the market it didn’t hit me at all. I was so used to the conditioning I had received living in city areas in the states my entire life it just seemed like another outdoor bazaar. My second time there was similar but my time walking through the market was much more brief. The third time in town on market day I found myself wondering what reason I actually had for going there… Why? Because there was nothing useful there. Most of it was crap imported from America. There was two stalls in the entire market that sold produce but it was chemically grown, patented strains from the greenhouses on the coast.

“It’s just a bunch of useless crap. Nick-nacks, trinkets, processed packaged (fake) foods, faux diamond studded oversized dollar sign belt buckles, cheap clothes, and a bunch of slightly obese Spanish people wandering around wearing too much perfume and tight clothing that they did not look good in.”, I explained to Andy, a long time local of the area. It used to be much different, I learned from Andy. That was where all the locals from the hills that lived in the now abandon terraced farms came to sell their produce and animals. “You used to be able to by chickens, goats, sheep, hand-crafted clothing and shoes that would last for years and years, and earthenware.”, Andy recalled. After the “green revolution” hit the area farmers yields exploded and drove down the cost of fruits and vegetables in the market. In order to make make enough money at the market after this farmers where practically forced to copy their neighbors and dowse their terraces with chemicals. Prices continued to drop and it made the once harmonious and level field of food production and vending completely uneven. Some farmers just couldn’t compete and had to give up the market completely.

As corporate farming and other large companies gained a foothold in the area the local jurisdiction started making new laws and regulations concerning food sales and other wares in the market. Each year saw a new set of laws that made it more expensive and difficult to get the permits and stall rentals until it reached the point where it costs more to jump through all the hoops to be in the market than you would be able to make off selling your products there. A people already submissive from living for years under the dictatorship of Franco, let the infrastructure of their local economy completely collapse. Their economic community bond fell apart and living in cortijos became nearly impossible without an outside source of income. Thus people left their beautiful homes in the hills and flocked to the cities in droves.

The conversation with Andy about the market had branched off from a chicken keeping lesson. He was explaining the difficulty they were having with keeping their lines clean, or prevent inbreeding, due to the lack of breeders in the area. After the avian-flu fiasco keeping chickens in general became difficult. New rules and regulations were introduced that made it much easier to just give up chicken keeping and buy eggs from the local supermarket than jump through the hoops they were proposing. So unfortunately a lot of people did just that. Another example of sustainability inhibiting bureaucracy.

In spite of all these hassles, hoops, and restrictions there are many people in Andulucia that are finding ways around these problems, and better yet working on solutions. As was illustrated to me in a number of instances and examples the best way to deal with over-restrictive or fascist systems is to band together with your friends, your neighbors, your community, etc. and acting with the support of like minded people. This is more or less what a community called Cigaronez in Las Alpuharras has done. There are some interesting stories about Cigaronez in my mini-post entitled: Cigaronez; Anarchists in Andulucia.

I would like to mention some of the perspective changes that I experienced thus far. The first and perhaps most significant one occurred in the first few days that I was in Spain. The words “So America’s not the center of the world” hit me like a ton bricks. Mainly because I didn’t even know I felt that way. I mean I had never consciously had the thought or the notion of the world being centralized around the US. Removed from my situation and my personal experience it’s just common sense, which is in part why it felt so strange to realize something that I thought I already knew. It was like I was pulling out a mentality from inside my mind that I had no idea was in there, or much less belonged to me. To be honest I felt a bit foolish and even ashamed of myself.

This change in perspective is closely related to a second change I experienced a bit later through many discussions of history and world affairs with people from various countries in Europe. The realization that America is not the country but a country was a significant perspective change for me. Indeed an ambiguous phrase it is meaningful to me in several ways. For one thing it exposes the dangerous facade of patriotism. The line between “good guys” and “bad guys” suddenly becomes less clear and you realize that your country is just as capable of committing the horrible atrocities we read about in history as any other country is.

God forbid I be unpatriotic, it’s un-American… what the hell does that even mean? Why don’t we just be humans instead of Americans, or Mexicans, or Germans? I’m really starting to get sick of being asked my nationality. It’s amazing the amount of pretensions and judgements there are about people based on that useless label we slap on each other’s foreheads. I should mention that I view these points as ideas, catalysts for change in perspective and new dimensions of thought. I certainly understand the pride one can have for their country as I have pride to say that I am from a huge nation of really amazing human beings. I feel very fortunate that I got the opportunity to ride my bicycle across it, to experience and see and meet “America”.

My point can summed up by saying that your nationality refers to your government and not to you, your family, or your friends. But for me it was important to follow the progression of concepts I’ve outlined here in for this concept to really sink in. Hopefully you’re already one step ahead of me and this produced nothing more than a smile of conformation for you.

In the Alpuharras near to the famous Benificio, and just east of a town called Orgiva there is an unintentional community called Cigaronez. The majority of the people that comprise Cigaronez are ex-pats from Britain who gave up their city lives in search of something more natural, and meaningful. While a large majority of them live on terraced farms that skirt the valley floor Cigaronez is better known for the caravans that sit just below the farms. Unlike their more submissive ex-Franco Spanish neighbors they tend to be regarded as a thorn in the side of the crooked local politicians. Thus they tend to be regarded, and most openly welcome the title of Anarchists. There were quite a few inspiring stories I heard of them, and I would like to share a few with you.

A few years back the beautiful Alpuharra Valley was threatened by the near success of the building of a tarmac factory. Little warning of the construction of this factory was given to the residents of the valley because it was done illegally. The local politicians and officials responsible for regulating and coordinating this building project were paid off and set it up without the required permits. They did not get these permits because they knew that it would have been impossible. Not only being much more expensive it would have taken to much time and thus alerted too many people who would have resisted it as tarmac factories produce huge amounts of pollution.

During the construction of this essentially surprise tarmac factory the residents of Cigaronez rallied for the support of their neighbors to go city hall and demand the removal of the building project. Unfortunately they were not successful in this. The people they talked to wanted to help but for a number of reasons they were afraid of resisting. Some of them were on unemployment which was controlled by the the town hall. If they were seen protesting they would undoubtably be recognized and their unemployment benefits would be terminated. However the main reason was because the old residents of Andulucia had lived under the rule of the dictator Franco and were naturally submissive. Undeterred the residents of Cigaronez made pleas, signed petitions, and protested on the building site standing in front of trucks and construction equipment.

While their efforts set back the construction it wasn’t quite enough to stop it. It was the bringing in of the Spanish press who exposed atrocity of the operation, made it public, and got more officials involved that ultimately saved the valley. On the last day of the removal of the factory “someone” set fire to the hillside. While the fire department rushed up the mountainside to put out the fire another fire was started in the eucalyptus forest that sat in the center of Cigaronez. Being that it was a windy day at the end of summer the fire raged through the dry forest and quickly threatened the homes of many who live there. Word instantly spread through the valley and people from all over rushed to the scene with buckets, and using the acequias they put it out by hand.

Another similar incident involved the the mining of the hills in Alpuharra. This was again passed by the local politicians who had their pockets stuffed in exchange for signatures. The people of Cigaronez again pleaded with the town hall for a cessation of the mining activities without success. Instead they received the treat, “If you hippies try to stop us we’ll kill your children”. Undeterred forty of them gathered at the mining site to protest. More prepared to deal with the resistance the mining company called in a privately hire squad of 70 riot police. During the incident someone phone the press who rushed in with cameras to capture the action. The privately hired riot police were force to release the protesters from Cigaronez and had a difficult time explaining the legality of their presence. The press uncovered the lack of permits to mine the hills and the mining operation was forced to shut down.

An interesting difference between the media in the US and the media in Spain is that the liberal Spanish press is still largely uncontrolled by corporations. They thus have the tendency to report things a little more unbiasedly and uncensored. Unlike the media in America, checkout This Website about Steve Wilson and for an example. During the Iraq conflict the Spanish press were there reporting on the atrocities that were going on to a country already not in favor of the US’s decision to go to war in the Middle East. But unfortunately the hotel room that majority of the members from the Spanish press were staying in was accidentally blown up by an American tank. Hearing of this was just one of many moments I felt proud to be an American, and couldn’t help but wonder if this had anything to do with some of the prejudice I had experienced in Spain.

Aside from their successful direct action against the environmental calamities mentioned above they are also fighting the system on a different and perhaps more practical level. Because money is controlled by the system the produces it, trading and exchanging allows them to bypass a lot of the regulations that make organic farming and living sustainably so difficult these days. The infrastructure of the once thriving local economy has collapsed at the hands of corporate favoring politics is discussed in more detail in the mini-post: Culturally Destructive Politics in Andulucia. The most important aspect of Cigaronez is that they are able live more sustainably and resist unjust laws by working together as a community. This was definitely one of the most inspiring things I had yet come into contact with in my search for sustainability.

While washing a bit of egg out a large measuring cup in a sink strapped to a palm tree I found myself smiling at the incredibly beautiful unpredictability that life can have when you follow your heart. Just the morning before I had woken up to a bright orange sunrise on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, ate half the almonds I had found the day before, and headed off down the road into a new day full of unsuspected twists and turns. Read the rest of this entry »

My first day of work at Cortijo Vera was one to remember. After finishing breakfast and my morning cup of tea in my caravan I made my way down to the house. Taking in the fresh morning air I watched a band of orange sun light just begin to illuminate the top of Cerro Negro and the distant terrace where I had risen only the morning before. I walked into the kitchen bidding good morning to the family to find a new face sitting among them. Read the rest of this entry »

Life at La Jimena.

As the first golden rays of sunshine begin to outline the hills to the east the faithful crowing of the farms rooster tells me it’s time to get up and start a new day. I walk out into the fresh morning air to sweeping views of Las Alpuharras still blanketed in a thin layer of mist. Read the rest of this entry »