Mexican Vacation

It would be culturally not inappropriate to start out with long winded explanations for why I haven't kept up writing blog entries, or to come up with all sorts of excuses for why I managed to spend merely one out of my three months in Mexico on a farm. But what good would that do? Instead, let me entertain my readers with a light hearted travel-log, before going back to the serious business of working on farms and such.

So after returning from Karacadir to Grand Tenochtitlan (aka Mexico City) to another three weeks of domestic life, Elba and I finally got to go on a little vacation. After long debates we decided to head North, and visit the many interesting sites of the region called the Huasteca in the states of Hidalgo, Tamaulipas, and San Luis Potosí. Once we managed to get all our things together, pack it into Elba's faithful Ford Icon, say goodbye to the family, buy a bathing suit, and give the car a thorough check-up from oil change to windshield-fluid, we set out towards Pachuca. By this time we were in the middle of the Friday evening rush-hour, that goes beyond any reasonable comprehenisibility. It was around midnight when we arrived at our first destination in Ixmiquilpan.

The cute little town with the hardly pronouncible name is less an attraction than the famous Grutas de Tolantongo, located only about an hour from there. http://turismo.hidalgo.gob.mx/index.php?option=content&task=view&id=139 "Famous" is of course a relative word, as you have to talk to a Mexican to even hear about that place. Last time I checked, it was not mentioned in the Lonely (Loser) Planet, and hence we didn't see any foreign visitors. Nevertheless, the place features a stunning natural beauty. The little dirt road leading to it winds itself through a dry landscape, only to take a drop down a valley covered with lush green vegetation watered by a turquoise colored stream. At the head of the stream the visitor is treated with all sorts of natural wonders, including a cold waterfall, pleasantly warm hotsprings, and amazing caves, all in one place. Despite the lack of foreign tourists, the number of Mexican visitors have caused various facilities to spring up at the site, including a hotel, a thermal pool, restaurants, but these don't really interfere with the natural beauty of the place.
We climbed up the rocks to the waterfall, where we took an unavoidable cold shower before entering the cave. Inside, the water was much warmer, and about knee-deep. After sitting down in the nice hot water, observing the stalactites hanging down above us, we started going deeper into the cave. As the walls closed in to a narrow corridor, the water got deeper and the current stronger, so swimming was difficult. We had to pull ourselves along a rope attached to the wall, carefully taking each step on the rocks under the water. After about fifty meters the cave opened up again into a large gallery, with amazing rock formations, illuminated by the flashlights of other visitors and the life guards stationed there. From a hole in the high ceiling a hot shower beat down powerfully on those who dared to stand under it for a strong shoulder massage. Around it a large pool provided a pleasant soaking, where at the time a group of young Christians were singing songs about Jesus. They had to be of protestant denomination, guessing from their upbeat cheerfulness.Above the big cave there was another one behind the waterfall, this one much smaller, darker, with warmer water. It was exciting to explore it, part swimming part climbing from one pool to another. Pretty soon, however, we decided that the water was too warm for us, so we went to enjoy the cold waterfall outside.
Driving back from Tolantongo we got a bit of rain, the first taste of what was going to be accompanying us throughout the whole trip. The next day we set out early, and after a breakfast of barbacoa (lamb) at the market, we started our drive to Xilitla. What we thought would be a short drive of 2-3 hours turned out to be about twice as long, due to winding roads through the Sierra Madre, unexpected speed bumps, and an ever increasing rain. By the time we got to Las Pozas it was pouring.
Las Pozas, is an interesting site near Xilitla, in the State of San Luis Potosí. http://www.junglegossip.com/ It was the house of an excentric English gentleman named Sir Edward James, who was artisicly inclined, inspired by nature, not too fond of walls, and loaded with cash. Hence, he came up with the strangest design for his house, which he built in the middle of the lush, dense greenery. Needless to say, it offered a stunning sight. We put on our rain-gear and went to climb around on his many staircases leading to nowhere, among the countless columns not holding anything, looking through windows only to see other windows, and wondering about the sheer lack of practical use of his structures. Yet, it was art as art can be.
Another amazing feature of this place is the river behind his house. Originally natural, it was also augmented by artificial pools, stairs, and waterfalls. Had it been earlier in the day, with sunny weather, we would have followed the local kids' examples and jumped into it. But since they were about to close, and there was no hope for any more sun, we got back into the car and headed onwards.Tired of the bad weather, we decided to drive down to the Gulf, and enjoy a day or two on the beach. It was not really late yet, and having left the Sierra behind us, we set out to drive to Tampico. Of course, once again we were delayed. This time it was the condition of the highway, coupled with torrential rainfall, which forced us to the side of the road on occasion, to wait for it to get lighter. Sometimes it did, for a few minutes at least. Once in Tampico, we checked into the first economic hotel, and waited for the next day and better weather.

In the morning, seeing that Tampico had little to offer, we went out for breakfast before heading up North to a little beach town with the promising name of El Brasil. At the café we saw the headlines in the newspaper: Hurricane on the coast of Cuba expected to hit Tamaulipas in the next days. Though it wasn't raining at that moment, the clouds formed a thick cover over us. What should we do? We hadn't bought a new bathing suit, not to mention come all this way to the coast, just to miss out on the beach. So we got into the car and headed for El Brasil.

Instead of El Brasil, what we found was a place called El Tordo, which had exactly what we were looking for: a virtually deserted beach, waves of considerable strength, and a little restaurant that served beer, fish, and sea-food. We went swimming and playing with the breakers, took a walk along the beach, and had a cold water shower. Then we ate at the restaurant, and talked to the owner of the place, the only person around, about the hurricane. After lunch we decided against staying for another day, or even another hour, and headed back inland as fast as we could.

Our destination for that night was El Cielo Biosphere Reserve, a place where not only foxes and rabbits say goodnight, but also pumas and bears. http://www.elcielobiosphere.org/ From reading different travel blogs on the net, I thought it would be a nice place to hike around and maybe take a tour. We arrived at night in the pouring rain, and found an exquisite place to stay. The price would have been somewat steep, but given the fact that we were the only guests in the hotel (yes in fact the only ones in the entire town) they gave us a 40% discount! Sweet!

The next day we found out that a tour would be possible, but waaaay too expensive, mostly for the same reason: Normally it's 1,800 pesos for ten people. So we went out to explore the region on our own. We were given good recommendations: Boca Toma is a wonderful place with turtles and all sorts of other water creatures, rides on the river, beautiful hikes, and delicious sea food. When we got there, we found that the heavy rains of the past days have turned the whole place into a swamp and made the it impossible to go out on the river.

Nevermind, we had fun walking around on our own and playing in the mud. The only animals we encountered were the tinny winged ones, who also like to suck blood, but other than that it was enjoyable. In the end we had dinner at the sea-food place, and finnished it off with a few beers on the hotel balcony.

The next day, after sleeping in late, we headed out for our last destination before turning back around: Real de Catorce in the mountains of San Luis Potosí. http://www.realdecatorce.net/ The drive there was long, but it offered great views of the changing landscape, from subtropical forests to the dry desert highlands. Just before Real, we stopped to take a look at Matehuala, a bigger town on the main highway, just 50 km from Real. It was very pleasant to walk around in the dry desert evening.

Stores seem to stay open later up North, until 8-9 ish. Eateries on the other hand don't even upen until that time. We had a pizza around the zocalo, then headed on towards Real. We were almost there, just 23 km to go, when the road to this out of place mining town took a turn, and turned from smooth pavement to rough cobble-stones. With our car it took us about an hour to make this last distance, while jeeps and rugged pick-ups kept passing us. The last obstacle
was the entrance into Real itself, which lead through a tunnel just wide enough for one car. Of course we had to encounter another one coming the other way, and had to back up till the curve where we could squeeze past each other.
The town itself is quite wild. Many houses are still abandoned, though the population is growing again. The streets are steep, some of them barely pasable by car. Walking through them at night was creepy, sort of like being in Pedro Paramo (famous Mexican literature about death, by Juan Rulfo). Just as we found a hotel we liked, managed to park the car in front of it, caried our things inside, and opened the balcony window to take a look, the clock of the church struck midnight with the bells playing probably the most beautiful song ever written: Ave Maria. Perfect timing for a most memorable moment.

The next morning we explored the town by daylight. Though many buildings are not occupied, the foundations and stone walls are still standing and strong. In fact, most of them are being incorporated into the new construction, so Real is keeping its hundred year old appearance. Downtown is very lively, obviously well frequented by tourists. We visited one of the two museums, the old mint building, where we saw an exhibition of contemporary and native huichoti art,along with old minting equipment. The other museum was closed, so we took a walk up to the "pueblo fantasma" a handful of abandond structures on the hill. Though everyone in Real refers to them as "ghost town", to me it looks like an old mansion of castelic proportions, maybe the house of some sort of lord, or owner of the mine. That is where I had hidden a geocache last timeI was there. It had been found maybe two times by other cachers, before it
vanished into the posession of mugglers.
On the way back we took a long cut around the town on the hills, and walked back to Real past the old cemetery. Just in time actually, as it started to rain softly, and once we were intown quite heavily. We escaped from the rain into a small eatery, had dinner, and went back to the hotel. Later that night we took another night stroll through the narrow streets.

The following day we were greeted with a beautiful morning, had breakfast in the fancy bakery on the zocalo, and visited the town museum. Finally before leaving we bought a book on Real de
Catorce, with many many interesting info, history, anecdotes, etc. which we kept reading to each other during our next drive. We learned so much, that we almost felt like going back. But the long cobblestone road just kept us from turning around.

What lay ahead of us now, was the long road leading back back to the Mexico City. To ease a little bit on the melancholia of our trip coming to an end, we decided to stop by the cities of San Luis Potosí, and Querétaro. About San Luis we knew very little, except that it was the capital of this gorgeously diverse state, which we had a chance to get a few glimpses of. Querétaro on the other hand was quite familiar to us. Elba's cousin Marta lives there, whom we had visited once two years ago, when I was living in D.F. Since it was on the way, we wanted to stop by there this time as well.

San Luis turned out to be a full on success. We arrived in the city just after a massive rain storm, and could enjoy the beauitifully decorated downtown with its many plazas and neat old buildings. We looked at the museum of Spanish viceroys, which augmented perfectly what we had read in the book about Real on the way there. Then we enjoyed the mild evening descending on the colorful lights of the decorations for Independence Day. For dinner we went to the Balcony, a bar-restaurant with exactly that name, from where we could enjoy good beer, delicious food, and a view over the plaza that couldn't be surpassed. What's more, we even got to see a live band, playingSpanish, American, and Mexican rock music. We stayed for the second half ofthe show, and a few more beers, and then a few more...
The next morning we woke up with a slight hangover that called for the ultimate cure: chilaquiles con huevo! We found them, pretty good ones too, on the balcony of another restaurant, just opposite the Balcony. As it turned out, last night's view could be surpasses after all. Also, the city itself was just as pleasant in the daytime, and we even found an interesting museum where we extended our knowledge of the Mexican revolution.Around 2pm, when it started to rain we got back to the car and drove to Querétaro in the what turned out to be the heaviest rainstorm of our trip. We actually had to pull over and wait for the water to ease up a little. In Querétaro it was not raining at the moment, and before we could meet Marta there were two important things we needed: a coffee and a place to pee. But as chance had it, we stumbled into another piece of Mexican history: La Casa de la Marquesa. Fancy-shmancy galore, take a look at it here: www.kiwicollection.com/property/la-casa-de-la-marquesa Though we were sure it was way above our standards, we had a coffee, used the bathroom, and ended up spending almost two hours there. One reason was the rain that was starting to fall again, but the luxurious atmosphere, the historical maps on the wall, and the chance to really feel like the pompous emperor Augustín de Iturbide and his hostess (mistress?) Marquesa de la Villa del Villar del Águila, proved to be strong factors as well.
Eventually Marta showed up and we drove to her place, only to go out again with her and her husband Gerardo. Continuing with the exclusivity, we went out to a Jazz bar, where we enjoyed music of the finest sort. The band was part Cuban, Brazilian, and American. During the break I got to talk to the bassist. It turned out to be the world famous Tyler Mitchell from Chicago, son of the even more famous visual artist Caton Mitchel. I bought one of his CDs from the other band he plays in, and had a blast at the second part of the show.
The next day nothing particularly interesting happened. We had lunch with Marta's mom, Elba underwent some dental treatment by her cousin (Marta's a dentist) and in the evening we walked around the hopelessly crowded downtown plazas of Querétaro. No wonder, it was Sunday the 14th, with the independence holiday just coming up. To enjoy that as properly as it is expectable for good Mexicans, we drove home to D.F. the same night, of course through the pouring rain.

Mexican independence is celebrated over two days. Indy Eve, if you will, people assemble for the biggest fiesta of the year, at home with their family, or out in the Zocalo. Of course there's lots of music, food and drinks. At 11pm they listen to the president's grito he gives from the balcony of the national palace, and then rings the bell. At this time the party is at its high point, and throughout the whole country tequila flows in rivers and people dance in the Zocalo.

For us it was rather a closed circle celebration, as we stayed with Elba's family. It didn't lack any of the wild exuberance Mexican fiestas are famous for. The greater part of the family came together, among them Elba's 80 year old uncle, who told us exciting stories of how things used to be different way back when. Following the president's little speech on TV, we exchanged views and opinions on history and politics, all in all in a typically Mexican way: free, without reservation, and with severe scrutiny especially of the contemporary polititians. This also goes to show that no matter how much corruption there might be, freedom of speech and expression is taken for granted. After all, who would disagree?

September 16th, the actual Independence Day, is a very quiet type of holiday: after all, everyone is too tired and hung over from the previous night's party. So we too stayed in bed late. In the evening we stopped by at Elba's mom's again, and I said my goodbyes. I was getting ready to embark on my next part of the yourney, to continue with what I'd set out to do in the first place: organic farming. Right. My next destination would be the island of Ometepe in Nicaragua.

At home in Mexico

The first priority after arriving in Mexico, was of course to spend some time with my girlfriend, Elba, who'd been waiting for me for the last eternity. As it turned out, she was just in the middle of moving into a new apartment. "New" is probably not the best word to describe it, as it was in great need of a paint job and a few other maintenance tasks. So just as I arrived, I was thrown into work, and the happy situation of being a house-husband.
There was something to do every day: painting the bathroom walls and ceiling with drywall mud, then varnishing it, installing the rods for the shower curtain, painting the walls and window frames, smoothening the doors with fine sandpaper and installing doorknobs, sanding shelf boards and building a foldable shelf unit, etc. Of course I took my time with each task, so I could clean up the place and cook a nice dinner for when she got home from work. As I eventually ran out of projects, I built a little lamp for her bed stand, and a Japanese style hand wash unit over the water-tank of the toilet.The latter contraption turned out to be more useful than pretty, and the criticism was according. Still, I could prove to myself that I could do it, and to the rest of the world that it IS possible: Washing your hands with the water that will be used for the next flush requires nothing more than an elongated tube brought up from the tank, and a type of basin of some sort with a hole in the bottom. Anyone can do it. As for how much water it saves, you can do the math!

After weeks in the city, and eventually with nothing else to do than thinking up more and more ridiculous sort of home improvement projects, I had to embark on my next wwoofing adventure, outside San Miguel de Allende. The farm itself is called Karacadir, named after the Nepalese yak-fur tent, that was the first structure on the site. Since then two yurts have sprung up, along with a few earth bag constructs. Needles to say, tents and earth bags are what define the place, and hence the couple who run it, Dorothy and Andy. Look it up at www.karacadir.com The site itself is interesting. The lack of a main building is made up for with many smaller units, such as the kitchen yurt, the outdoor shower built with bottles, the water tower with Ganesh on it, and the square shaped Karacadir. In between, there are large cactus trees, bamboo, mesquite, small olive shrubbs and other vegetation. The domestic fauna consists of two dogs, Puja and Spangle, and the donkeys Luna and Paloma. Very cute, all of them.One constant problem at the site, is the water crisis, which has been going on for the last year and a half. The well has run dry! Not a single drop left for the farm or for any of the few hundred people living in the nearby village. So the luxurious hot-tub (where the dogs like to hang out) has been converted into a reservoir for garden irrigation. The bottle shower is out of commission, and we wash ourselves with two 2l bottles of water. Amazing as it sounds, it is enough to get fresh and clean. The crisis of course has a reason: a US owned broccoli farm in the valley has drilled the well deeper, hogging all the water for their own production. Agro-industrial douche bags, as one previous wwoofer had observed. Occasionally the government sends a water-truck to fill up peoples barrels, but that occurs with an irregularity of once every 1-2 weeks. And of course there is a promise that sometime this year they will drill the local well deeper. Until then... we've gotten used to dealing with the situation.When I arrived, Andy was gone giving a workshop in earth bag building on the coast, while Dorothy was busy teaching one at home. Besides her and the two students, there was another wwoofer, and our job was to do the grunt-work: assisting the students, filling cans with sand, straightening up the place after each class, and helping out with other things, such as gardening and washing dishes. Of course it was nearly impossible to escape the information that was being taught. Though I could not attend the lectures, I think I could confidently build something out of a pile of sand and a few sacks of polypropelene.As the workshop finished, everyone but Dorothy and me left. With so much space available, I took down my tent and moved into the Karacadir. (The plastic cover is only a temporary add-on for the rainy season.) Very comfortable inside. Not as hot as one might think. The yak-fur is an excellent insulator. Especially during the cool night, it is a lot nicer than in my tropical tent. (Brrr!) Since the workshop ended, my jobs have been weeding the garden, transplanting seedlings, watering the spiral shape garden (I'm becoming an expert at these things) as well as building a greywater-pit. Especially the last project I'm kinda proud of. It is planted with calendula.Eventually Andy arrived, and I got to know my hosts as the nice and friendly couple they are. Andy is a relaxed and easy going Brit, Dorothy a California girl, and the two have decided to teach the art of building simple, cheap, comfortable, stable, versatile and awesome looking buildings. Beside that, both of them have other jobs too. Andy works with cancer patients and Dorothy is a teacher at a private school in Queretaro.

During my days off, of course I didn't miss out on exploring the beautiful town of such famous gringos as Ken Kesey, Jack Kerouac, Robert Anton Wilson, and Neil Cassidy. I even found the door of what used to be Cassidy's house. Not surprisingly, these people mean as little to the locals as any gringo beatnik would. Still, there is a great abundance of American expats everywhere. Some are visitors, while some have been living here for the last fifty years. The town itself is picturesque, just like any nice looking Mexican town, with churches, narrow streets winding up the hills, and a town square with tourists and mariachis. Oh, and of course Internet cafes and laundromats, which is my main reason for coming here: so I can post blog entries, hoping that someone might read it.

Hard Work and Intensive Vacationing

Part I – Vacation (don’t go there!)

After my permaculture course I thought I deserved a vacation. Actually, it wasn’t the permaculture course that caused this. After that I felt full of energy and couldn’t wait to just jump right in and experience it in practice. But the additional watershed restoration course I’d signed up for was not really what I expected. Sitting in the classroom, being overwhelmed by theoretical information, then pulling a muscle in my back in the only afternoon of practical application was the beginning of my crankiness. The next day (May 14th) we were confronted with a snow storm. So together with three other participants I decided to skip out on the rest of the course and go to Santa Fe.

When hearing Santa Fe, most people think of cute adobe buildings, lovely southwestern style furniture, and little art galleries and museums. Well, everything is true to the extent that there is virtually nothing else Santa Fe could offer. In other words the whole town is as fake as the adobe structures built of concrete. While the “southwestern flair” is preserved, one can’t help but feel like the omnipresent Californian visitor, sipping on latte, driving a Prius, wearing an ironic T-shirt, and apologizing for having Stella Artois in his fridge. I still can’t explain exactly what’s wrong with it, but I’ve got a strong feeling that there is something. Anyway…

If Santa Fe wasn’t bad enough, Sedona definitely gave me the rest. What brings me to these places anyway? Well, I had the opportunity to meet my old friend Manuel from Germany, whom I hadn’t seen since 7th grade. He just happened to be in the States, and was planning to come out West around this time. Of course I didn’t want to pass up the chance of seeing him, but as I had a few days left, I decided to take a Sunday trip to Sedona. It was on the way. 

I should have known what this trip was gonna be like. I’d heard enough about it. But maybe that was exactly what I came to experience. I just had to see with my own eyes, what madness really means. For all those who don’t know: Sedona was a tinny little western town in the middle of Arizona, with nothing much to offer. A couple of ranches in the late 1800’s, the first church, school, and post office around the turn of the century. In the 1930’s typical effects of the depression, many ranches sold, people moved away. Then in the 1960’s Sedona was discovered by artists, hippies, and artsy hippies. Today, the place is plastered with crystal shops, massage parlors, yoga, reiki, drive-through-chakra-cleaning sites, and places where you can feel the famous vortex. The latter has been explained to me as a place where electromagnetic energy bubbles up from underground and “Dude, you can totally feel the colors and the shapes of things…” or something like that. As for me, I felt quite amazed by such mass stupidity, as the entire place is overrun with tourists to the extent that it feels more crowded than Manhattan. As for the natural beauty, I have to admit that the red rocks are increadibly beautiful. But one can enjoy those just a few miles upstream, where there are also less people.


So after Santa Fe and Sedona, I went ahead to see Manuel in the place where he would be at that time: Las Vegas, Nevada. I’d never been there actually, and now even this would be taken care of. Talking about tourist madness! Only the tourists here were of a different breed. These people didn’t care so much about the cosmic spiritual connection as about the basic bottom line. Or rather the other end of that line, where it’s less about making money as it is about spending it… with both hands! Gambling, whores, liquor, and they call it “entertainment”. Interestingly enough, hordes of people are into it. Entire families visit from all over the place, go up the replica of the Eifel tower, or cruise in immitated Venetian lagoons. They watch white tigers and black girls, all of them wearing just the minimum of clothes. And they spend a fortune on what some call "toxic mimic". Though I knew exactly what to expect, it was shocking to say the least. Still it was worth seeing Manuel. We caught up on the last thirteen years, and walked down the strip experiencing American decadence in its full swing. I ended up with a pair of used dies from Casino Excalibur, for my own private gambling pursuits.

Part II – The Solar Ark

After these last days I really felt I had done enough vacationing. I was ready to jump into action and learn something. My first attempt at experiencing applied permaculture took me all the way up into the high mountains of northern New Mexico. Pretty close to the Colorado border, and not too far from Lake Vado, lives an eccentric genius named Arvo. He used to teach together with Scott Pittman, and today he is happy to share his know-how with visitors, wwoofers, couch-surfers, and aspiring permaculturists. What drove me to his place was his amazing website describing the many technological features, from passive and active solar energy, the methane digester, the shower in the greenhouse, the ingenious "Watson Wick" septic system, the 60 watt refrigerator, to the general design of his greenhouse-house. Take a look at it yourself. It’s well worth it. http://solarark.org/index.html

Arriving at his place, I was truly astonished, that all of this was just like described, but much more life-sized. I mean, the water in the shower came out in a strong, steady stream, with sufficient hot water not having to hurry. It was all warmed by the sun, and could be supplemented with burning some pine cones, if the weather had been cloudy. The methane digester produced sufficient gas to cook with, and once the pressure in the tank increased to over 20 PSI, it would be necessary to make use of it by cooking beans for the week, or the like.

One important thing at Arvo’s was the basic notion that the best way to conserve energy is to reduce the need. This, however, has nothing to do with sitting in the dark. Instead it means using smart solutions, such as the pressure cooker draped in thick blankets, or turning off appliances completely instead of letting them hibernate. We would have to check the gauges to decide whether to use the electric cooker or the gas stove to heat water for hot chocolate, depending on what there was more of. And according to the permaculture principle we would convert every excess back into other, more usable forms (gas into cooked food, well water into irrigating plants, manure and liquid kitchen waste into the digester, etc).

Besides being really good at building things, and optimizing energy flow, Arvo likes to cultivate fermented food. The first thing we did after I arrived was cut up vegetables for delicious kim-chi. He also makes really good kombucha, which is perfect ice-tea with soda-water, and ocha honey mead, just the right thing for watching the sunset. We also baked bread in his earth oven outside and it turned out to be sheer delight.

My work at the Solar Ark, besides checking water, power, gas, and making necessary adjustments, consisted mainly of gardening. After all, that’s what I came here for. It happened to be the season for transplanting veggies from the greenhouse to the gardens outside. Up here the growing season lasts only from May to September, and even then there is a good chance for frost at night. So we built many planters, mixed good soil, and transplanted chard, beets, mustard greens, as well as corn, squash, beans, sunflowers and many other things outside. It was a lot of work, but all in all very educational.

For those of you who are thinking about visiting the Solar Ark, you should keep one thing in mind. You have to be like water on the rocks or like willow in the wind, because Arvo has his ideas of doing things his way and he expects the same of you (his way, not yours!). The key term here is EFFICIENCE. At the Solar Ark it is much more than just a guideline. It’s a belief system. While being the perfect teacher for this, Arvo can be somewhat impatient. You have to keep not only an open mind, but one that is sharp as a razor. Pay attention to everything he tells you, and remember it! He tends to explain everything in great detail, the theory behind what he does, what he expects you to do, how things work, how they would not work, and everything all around. I can see many people getting turned off or scared away by his style. Nevertheless, for those who can undergo this intense experience without running away after the second day, they will be rewarded with valuable knowledge. He even offers visitors a great deal of literature on alternative technology, and is willing to build something with the interested student. Unfortunately we didn’t get around to do this when I was there, as things had to be transplanted. 

Part III – Deep in the Heart of Texas

Given the fact that I only had about two more weeks before I had to leave the US, I made sure to head southwards, closer to Mexico. My destination was Austin, where I was going to check out a bicycle collective I had heard and read many good things about. http://www.rhizomecollective.org/ Specifically I was interested in their RUST (Radical Urban Sustainability Training), which was going to be a good supplement to my permaculture course. As it turned out, however, they were offering it in the spring only. Never mind, I wanted to take a look at what they were all about. I wrote them an e-mail, they approved my request of staying there, and I took a Greyhound down to Texas.

Unfortunately, the only American bus company proved itself utterly incompetent, even more so than what I was used to from seven years ago. Okay, they got me to Dallas on time, even though I missed my first connection in Amarillo. But then they refused to let me on the bus to Austin. The reason: although I had a ticket, there were too many people who'd booked “priority” seats, and there was no more space available. So I had to wait five hours… which gave me a chance to investigate the Kennedy assassination.
As a knowledgeable homeless man pointed out, the Grassy Knoll was not much of a place to hide. Instead, the shot came with all probability from under a manhole, through the water drain. From there the assassin could easily escape by climbing through the pipes, ditch his gun, and get away unnoticed… quite obviously.

But I digress… from my Greyhound story, which ended up with me in Austin at sunset and my pack still in Dallas, following me two hours later. So by the time I made it down to the Rhizome, it was past midnight, swelteringly hot, with an insane humidity. I didn’t care. I was ready to pass out.

The next day I realized that I had arrived in the off-season. It was hot, I mean HOT, like in a busy kitchen. What I thought was a welcome change after the cold nights of New Mexico, many people considered unbearable, and they had taken off to cooler climates. There were but a handful people left. Really, you could count them on one hand. One of them, Ignacio, the guy I had contacted, gave me the tour, and got me involved in working in the bicycle library. I could pick any one I liked to ride around on while in Austin, but since all of them had minor problems, I had to do some repair work. Fine with me.

Then I got to know Joe, who was in charge of the Brownfield. What had been used and abused for many years as a city dump, was now given to the Rhizome Collective, along with a hefty grant, to clean it up and give back its natural dignity. I expected to see what the name implies: a big brown field, with lots of trash, all sorts of unpleasant things, and not a trace of shade anywhere. What I found was a lush green area, covered with many trees, rolling hills, with small gardens in between, and Joe’s trailer. I had made my decision: the Brownfield is where I was going to stay. Besides regular garden work, there was also construction awaiting me. Joe, was tired of sharing his trailer with insects, so he was going to build a cabin. At the same time it was supposed to be cool and shady. We made plans with a carpenter friend of his. It was supposed to be a one room 18’ x 16’ structure, with a loft, water catchment on the roof, and lots of screen panels for ventilation. And the first thing to do was to dig four big holes. We went about doing that, which was easier said than done. Digging around in a landfill brings many weird things to the surface…

My time at the rhizome was interrupted by an invitation to Radical Redneck Farm, now known as Firewheel Farm, way out in the boonies about 40 miles east of Waco. http://firewheelfarm.blogspot.com/ The owner, Laurie, a good friend I’d met at the permaculture course, had just inherited it and is planning to turn it into a food forest, with different fruit trees, grapes and olives, Mediterranean style. To my surprise, many features were already present. The fruit trees as well as everything else were in some need of tending, but the will was strong and unlike me, she is going to stay there. Interestingly, there was one very familiar structure we did the planning of: a little one-room cabin with water catchment on the roof and screen panels for ventilation.

Part IV – Vacation (as it should be!)

There is one problem with work in Texas in the summer: it is too damn hot. This I realized during my work on Laurie's Farm, as well as digging holes on the Brownfield. After 10 a.m. it is quite difficult to do pretty much anything, even in the shade. After 11 a.m. it is utterly stupid. So while getting up as early as the sun and jumping right into work is advisable, the greater part of the day is best spent lazing around on the porch, drinking ice-tea, and having a good conversation, or reading a book. And that’s exactly what we did.

Another alternative is going sailing, to which I was invited just before leaving the Rhizome. My friend Brian, who lives just a minute from Lake Travis, invited me to go out on the lake in his 14’ single sail Laser. After all, a small boat is ideal for learning. And it was. For the first time I experienced myself (by myself) what it was like to trim the sail and work the tiller at the same time, and then tack to go close haul to capture most of its strength. It was fun. We spent the whole day on the lake. After letting me deal with the wind and the lake on my own, Brian joined me to sail over to the pier near the dam and have lunch at Carlos & Charlie’s. It took us some time to sail down the river, tacking back and forth several times, and then going downwind between the motor boats and jet-skis. It was a beautiful Saturday, just before Father’s Day, so many other people shared our good idea to spend it on the lake. At the pier it was not any different, as it also happened to be the day of the ROT (Republic of Texas), a huge motorcycle get-together, and thousands of bikers had taken over the place. Going back was equally interesting, with a little stop on a rocky island, from where we could observe boats from the sailing club, with their spinnakers filled with the smooth breeze.We got back just after sundown, and cooked up some Gumbo that is looking for its equal. The price I had to pay for this awesome day were my legs. After being hidden by shoes and long pants for months, the day out on the lake, with water reflection all around, turned them red as (cooked) lobsters. Thanks to aloe lotion they got better… a few days later. Not before we went to explore Enchanted Rock, the Ayers Rock of Texas.
As Australia seems to have many things in common with Texas, it was just appropriate to take a look at this famous landmark: a unique, large rock in the middle of the country. Climbing it was just part of the fun. Following the traces of water to the little forest on top of it, we came across a system of caves. We just had to descend and explore them. Climbing around in them was not easy with my burned legs, but it was well worth it.

I had two more days left before my stay in the US would expire. Before leaving Texas, there was one more thing I wanted to do: catch up on my Texas history, and visit the Alamo in San Antonio. It was smaller and less amazing than I’d expected, though it gave good info on the history of the Lone Star State. With that done, I was going to spend the night and take a bus down to Mexico. As it turned out, however, my couch-surfing host happened to be a really outgoing chick, who introduced me to the vibrant Mexican subculture of San Antonio. We went to a discussion night with political activists, followed by a visit to the oldest bar in San Antonio. I got to know many interesting people, had good discussions about local currencies, and found a ride all the way to Mexico City. It could not have been more perfect.

Permaculture Course in New Mexico

After getting my hands dirty on the farm in Arizona, I set out to take the Permaculture Design class on Wind River Ranch, near Las Vegas, New Mexico, taught by Scott Pittman, founder of the Permaculture Institute in the US. www.permaculture.orgI started out full of anticipation and great expectations to gain important knowledge and a useful tool-kit that I'll be able to apply in future. Looking back at it, I came away with all that and much more: an immense sense of realistic optimism about the world in general and my life in particular; a deep love for all people, even the ones with profoundly different ideas and opinions; and a respect for nature, culture, and everything that is part of God's patterns of working existence.

I really wish I could offer more concrete information about the last four weeks. I could talk about the freezing nights in my tent! It's a piece of gear I know I'll get to appreciate once I'm closer to tropical latitudes, but not exactly perfect for the mountains of New Mexico. Or I could go into detail about shared cooking / cleaning chores, as well as design groups that helped us form this community of about thirty people. We started out as individuals from various walks of life, and ended up as one large family. I know, I've developed a deep affection for each one of us, and sitting here in the Flagstaff library, thinking back at the last weeks, I can't help but feel nostalgic.
As far as the course itself... we did learn a lot of important things. Most of the nitty gritty detail, such as suggestions on grey-water treatment or building food forests, can be found in the book Permaculture - A Designers' Manual by Bill Mollison, for those who are interested. To give you an idea of it, think of a greenhouse in your home, that would take care of your water from your shower, sink, washing machine, toilet, etc, while providing heat your home along with delicious food you can't grow outside. In addition you can harvest the rainwater from your roof, which can go into your sink, toilet, washing machine, etc. This setup is just a small example of all the possibilities all around us. We covered all the theory. As far as hands-on practice goes, we designed and built a forage garden around the chicken coop, and a sheet mulched veggie garden in a corner that had been more or less abandoned.What is most important, however, are the principles: care for the earth, care for people, and returning all excess to make use of them in some way. The idea is to redirect everything back into a loop to slow down entropy as far as possible. And how can we do that? By observing patterns in the world, working with, rather than against nature and each other, and making use of existing things by creating a working system according to their qualities. And in that case it really doesn't matter who you are, or what you want. In some way everything can cooperate so that we all benefit from it.

It seems like this is where I will leave this post for now. As I said, I am going to observe, work with, and learn from sites and people who are using permaculture design on their farm, with their technology, or which ever way they incorporate it into their lives. As I go along, I will post concrete examples, and where to find out more about them.

For those of you who are interested, here is the wiki site of our permie group. Obviously, it's more interesting for insiders, but there may (no, SHOULD!) be more pictures too. http://windriverpermies.wetpaint.com/photos

To all of you, I'm sending my most sincere best wishes, and my deepest love.
-Peace

San Francisco and Arizona

March 21st, 2008: Easter, full moon, Spring Equinox, Iranian new year, and a new chapter in my life. The best time to start a new blog. The topic for this one will be what I have been waiting for so long, and now I can finally start doing it: experience the country life, in other words farming. But before I could start doing that I had to equip myself, plus I wanted to visit a good friend and see the beautiful San Francisco Bay... so let me start from there:

Saturday the 22nd, I left Japan and arrived in San Francisco, all on the same day. I even gained an hour or so by crossing the date-line. In reality, however, I must have lost way more than that. At least that's how I felt when I finally arrived at Sakura's place and collapsed on her couch. After only a three-hour nap it was time to start experiencing the music scene of the Bay Area. San Fran is just full of music, and I got to tap into the main vein.

Sakura's boyfriend Kush, a famous DJ, was playing at the Club 6. He makes mainly electronic music and performs with local vocalists. He also adds different elements, ranging from traditional tunes from India to industrial, jungle, dub or the occasional microphone-inside-a-vacuum-cleaner. Take a look at his site: http://www.kusharora.com/ ! Though I had heard his album From Brooklyn To SF, seeing him perform live was way beyond anything. Simply amazing. Of course I could not keep from turning into a zombie before the night was over, so I stumbled back home through the San Francisco night, to pass out into a dreamless state of unawareness...

Sunday morning rise and shine! What better way to cure a jet-lag that to get up early after a night at the club? That's exactly what we did. The strong motivator was the opportunity to stretch my sea legs (pun intended), and go sailing on the Bay with two friends of Kush, Loren and Zubeyir. The day was gorgeous, with a clear sky, and a gentle breeze rolling over the bay. The boat was a 29 foot sloop, and the two sailors were eager to introduce me to the fine art of making use of the wind and waves. Tacking the jib was simple enough, and using the rudder to turn the boat to get the best wind was fun. I decided that I had to do some more sailing in the near future. Unfortunately it was still before the start of sailing season, so I couldn't find any day-races, and so far had no other opportunity to sail... yet.

The next days were filled with rounding up things I would need during the next year, such as camping gear (all of which I managed to fit into my pack), good shoes (that still haven't been broken in yet), optimal clothing (I made sure to get good socks) and other miscellaneous items. At the same time I enjoyed the San Francisco life, with expensive sandwiches, coffee with fancy names, and similar stuff. On Wednesday my friend and former colleague, Dana arrived from Japan, on his way home to Pittsburgh. We spent his few hours of layover doing the San Francisco things: walking around Haight & Ashbury, looking accross at Alcatraz from the docks on the bay, and having some more expensive sandwiches and coffee with fancy names. Only the cable-cars were too touristy... but dude, we totally should have ridden them!

Eventually I left Sakura's place and started surfing people's couches I met on http://www.couchsurfing.com/. Among others a fabulous co-op in Berkeley, a hitchhiking expert in the mission district, and a group of musicians who took me up for a weekend under the redwoods of Sonoma county. The co-op was super friendly. My host and her housemates were a lovely bunch, with interesting conversations and cool outings. We went up to the highest peak in Oakland, and "studied" in a cafe downtown. Back in the mission across the bay, I was taken to a punk show, and got to know my host's roommate, who's also heavily into heavy music. You should definitively check out his band Triclops: www.myspace.com/triclopsband. They rock!

The following day I was invited to a cabin in Sonoma, with my host, James, and two of his friends. We relaxed under the redwoods, drank beer, and engaged in various competitive games, like shooting at Sunkist cans hung up in the trees, or building stick-boats that we sent down the little river that ran by the cabin. The music we listened to ranged from folk, to 1030's Christian music, and tunes from all around the world. What was more, however, back in Berkeley James invited me to an open mike at the local pub, the Starry Plough. And THAT was truly awesome: many musicians with different instruments, most of them very talented. James performed on his ukulele, and his friend Seth on the banjo. I enjoyed it a lot.

During my final days in the Bay Area I was going to start wwoofing (http://www.wwoof.org/ for all those who still don't know what it is I'm doing) at a local co-op called Fort Awesome, but I was too late. Instead I rounded up a few more things, enjoyed a good lunch with James and dinner with Sakura, and on Saturday I headed out to hitch my way to Arizona.

Time to start farming!

With the helpful info from Jon, my host in the mission district, who is also the editor of http://www.digihitch.com/, and a ride towards L.A. I'd found on Craig’s list, I made it to Bakersfield. After accepting a ride into Bakersfield I had to take a bus out of there... I almost felt like I was in Mexico! Seriously, Bakersfield seems to be more Hispanic than anything. Finally, I got a ride on a semi-truck all the way to Arizona. At the junction I-40 and AZ-89 in Ash Fork I was greeted by Cory, on whose farm I would be woofing for the next two-and-a-half-weeks.Whipstone Farm, near Paulden, AZ is a family farm, where many, MANY vegetables make it from seeds to full ripeness, then to the farmers market, or the CSA program. Take a look at their site: http://www.whipstone.com/ ! The people on the Farm are Cory and Shanty, their 1 1/2 year old son Cooper, Cory's daughter Gibson (not in the picture), and the occasional wwoofer. The one in this picture, other than me, is Mike from Switzerland, who had been here for about five weeks before I arrived, and just left a few days ago.

Working on the farm is not too hard. Hmmm... okay, it IS pretty hard. But not back breaking. If anything it's repetitive, but because there is such a variety of things, it never gets boring. So far I have seeded a lot of peppers (many Hungarian varieties), spinach, and eggplant, transplanted tomatoes into bigger trays, tied up strings to growing tomato plants in the greenhouse, laid out irrigation lines and planted lettuce, chard, beets, and kohlrabi around them. Then of course we do a lot of weeding, seeding, and feeding.

As for the fauna part, the farm has sheep, chickens, and guinea birds, as well as the not so welcome gophers and rabbits. The domestic creatures need to be fed and watered, which is all pretty easy. Even when a new baby lamb appeared one day (it was born, but that went pretty much by itself without anyone really noticing), putting it and the mother into a separate pen was rather simple. Now the rabbits and the gophers are a different story. They have been categorized as Enemies of the Farm, and must be shot, trapped, and eliminated. So far Cory showed me how to go about trapping gophers, and I have become a skilled gopher trapper. Shooting rabbits is also fun! They are hard to spot, but once they're detected, a good gun with a better scope does the job (and of course a decent marksman, but who am I to beat my own drum). Once killed, it has to be cleaned inside and out, the fur and the guts removed, and meat cooked. They make a delicious lunch, especially with lots of onions, peppers, rolled into tortillas. Mmmm... taste just like rabbits!