Con brazos abiertos

Last June I participated in an ethno-ecology course that took me to the coastal region of Chiapas called the Soconusco. There we met cacao farmers who are growing the native strain organically and sustainably. The organization we worked alongside, CASFA, welcomed any of us who would like to return and continue to learn the ways of the farmers. Faith and I knew we were going to take them up on their offer and incorporated a visit to the region into our plans. Sonja also benefitted from our visit to the Soconusco region because her thesis focused on healthcare in rural communities there. So, after a night in a San Cristobal hostel we loaded ourselves into a highly comfortable OCC bus for the seven hour voyage. The bus had reclining seats and tv screens that played Spanish dubbed English movies. We were seated in the front of the bus and got to enjoy the wonderful views of Chiapas. There are vast expanses of pristine wilderness that are bisected by the one road we were travelling on. I mentioned to Faith how this reminded me of some of the National Parks we have visited in Canada. The only difference here is that this land is not yet protected and is vulnerable to encroaching civilization. Small rural communities dotted the landscape and we can only imagine how impressive it would be to wake up every morning and look out over the lush valley they lived above. All this wonder slowly turned into sheer terror as fog from the higher elevations slowly encompassed our giant bus. The mountain roads we were on were very narrow and often times had no guard rails just in case we were to make a slightly wide turn. The fog became so thick that we couldn’t see further than 15 feet in front of the bus. We closed our eyes and just thought, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to be how I die.” The bus driver was somewhat reassuring because he casually sang along to the Ranchera tunes he shuffled through on his in-dash disc changer while maneuvering us through the white nothingness. This lasted over an hour until the uncomfortable popping of our eardrums, which we actually enjoyed because that indicated we were descending into safer ground.

Our destination was Tapachula, the capital city of the Soconusco region and also the closest major city to Guatemala in the area. Faith had read about a hotel called Hotel Premier in her Let’s Go travel book. It mentioned spotless rooms with an entertaining fish tank in the lobby. We hailed some taxis and felt it was a good sign that the taxi drivers had heard of the hotel. We were having some minor culture shock as we passed by tall buildings, brightly lit signs, and sidewalks full of pedestrians. We weren’t confident about how safe it was to be out at this hour and wanted to find refuge in a hotel room as soon as possible. As we pulled up to the Hotel Premier we were glad to be able to escape the world and be at ease again.

We walked into the hotel and noticed a cartoonish water scene inside what appeared to be a picture frame that was filled with water and had one fish pathetically dodging the rushing bubbles that came from the bottom. As entertaining as that could possibly be, we still felt bad for the poor fish. We were told the prices for the room had changed from what was originally quoted, but after some coercion they honored the original price. Upstairs we found an area for sitting with about five couches that must have either came with the building or were stolen from an elderly person who died in the 70’s. Our room was not much nicer than the couch room. Fleas hopped out of sight from under the pillows as we uncovered them and there was no hot water. Needless to say, we needed to find another place to stay in Tapachula.

We asked around town and came across Hotel Plaza Guizar, a hotel in the heart of downtown where it is super noisy, but the room available was a presidential suite compared to the Hotel Premier. We wanted to switch over that night, but Hotel Premier wouldn’t refund our money. So we dealt through the night and quickly changed hotels the next morning.

Outside of Tapachula there are several remote communities and understanding how these individuals attain health care is the focus of Sonja’s research. Colectivos take you from one town to the next, but will also gladly drop you off in one of the many pueblos along the way. We chose a small town named Villa Comaltitlan to dedicate Sonja’s questionnaires. To find the nearest clinic we got into a bicycle taxi and told the driver to pedal us to one. At the clinic we were greeted warmly by the few staff on hand, including a dentist named Judith who is highly enthusiastic about the clinic. We were given tours of the rooms and interviewed the main person in charge about who receives care there. The waiting room, which consisted of around 20 seats, is where people sat and waited to be called in. We approached several of the individuals and explained to them about the research Sonja was conducting. The people of Villa Comaltitlan were very kind and they willingly agreed to help Sonja with her surveying. We completed the research needed with time to spare and being halfway between Tapachula and the turtle sanctuary we decided to swing by the beach and double check if we are still able to volunteer/stay there. It took some street smarts to get us to the beach- a colectivo to a smaller colectivo, to a truck with vinyl covered bed, to a private boat through the mangroves until we landed on the sandbar named Barra Zacapulco where the turtle sanctuary is. There is a museum with turtle bones, rescued turtles, a crocodile, dormitories, and hatchery all at the turtle sanctuary. We met the man who lives on site and he welcomed us to stay with him free of charge in exchange for volunteer work around the sanctuary. We thanked him for the offer and told him that we would be returning the following Friday to spend the weekend at the sanctuary.

During a tour of the site he brought over a bucket of newly hatched sea turtles that had emerged from the protected sand that day. He had over 60 and was expecting more. He told us that at 5:00 p.m. he was going to release them into the ocean and that we could assist him. We had some time to kill so we ate lunch at a local palapa restaurant and returned at 5:00 p.m. sharp.

We walked to the shore bucket-in-hand and there we got to witness one of the most magical moments of our entire trip- 150 baby sea turtles scuttling their way to their first encounter with their new home, the ocean. We followed the leaders of the pack, took video, snapped photos and couldn’t help but feel the electric energy of youthful nature. When they had all disappeared into the tide we all smiled and understood how special this experience was. It was a great final day for our group of four before Sonja parted ways to return to the states. Over the weekend we organized what little time we had left and got in contact with CASFA who met with us on Monday to discuss what would be the best course of action for us to take. On Monday, Ruviel, a CASFA worker and farmer, took us to his home, fed us delicious organic fruit, walked us through his plantation, and then to another woman’s orchard. He wanted us to view the system of intercropping he is implementing and how it has become highly beneficial for all his crops.

Intercropping is a system of agriculture where several types of crops are grown in the same plot. This is done because relationships form between the different crops and each aid one another in different ways. Tall trees provide shade, plantains enrich the soil with potassium, beans increase the nitrogen in the earth all while creating a viable ecosystem for other creatures such as microorganisms and birds. Also, there is reduction in crop failure with this system since the differing plants increase protection against sickness. If one crop should fail there are multiple crops that can be harvested and the devastation is minimized. These are just a few of the benefits to intercropping as opposed to monocropping, growing whole fields of just one crop. Organic and sustainable farming is the goal of CASFA for all their farmers to achieve. They continually educate the farmers on the benefits to these methods since no pesticides or fertilizers are added or needed.

The next morning we were met by Ruviel at our hotel in Tapachula and we loaded all our worldly belongings into the bed of his truck to be taken along with us to our new home for the week. We drove a short while and turned off the main road to Huixtla and entered into a small town named Tuzantan. In Tuzantan there is a parcel owned by a CASFA farmer that is tended to by Juan Sanchez and his family. We parked the truck in front of a barb wire fence that had coffee beans drying freely in the road. We were met by the Sanchez family who share a simple home made of concrete brick walls, solid concrete floor, and aluminum roof. We introduced ourselves to everyone we met as we walked through their kitchen where a wood burning stove cooked their dinner for the night. We were shown our room which had a wooden bed frame, small wood dresser, and swinging door.

The back of the house faces a flowing river that can be heard from anywhere in the house. Chickens, ducks, turkeys, dogs, and a pig freely roam the backyard looking for scraps in the dirt. A bamboo forest jets out of the ground with leaves looming overhead making the poles bend from the weight. Large rocks create small rapids in the river where the ducks fish for sardines and people can bathe or do their laundry. Electricity is scarce in the household and is mainly used to power a light that illuminates the patio and a television. There is no running water in the house. The water is stored in a concrete “pila,” a rectangular tall structure that stores large quantities of water to be used for cooking, washing dishes, force flushing the toilet, and showering. These conditions are foreign to us being so used to American luxuries, we were definitely going to be experiencing something new and we welcomed the challenges that lay ahead.













The temperature here reaches swelteringly hot degrees accompanied by humidity that can paralyze you even under the shadiest tree. During a tour of the parcel we were going to be working the only escape from the heat was to splash in a nearby stream that cuts through the cacao orchard. A nursery that is covered by shade cloth would be our work site. Within the nursery are cacao saplings sprouting out of black plastic cylinders lined up in neat rows. We estimated that there were around three thousand of these cacao juveniles. Since the environment is full of plant life there are always other plants invading fighting for their right to survive. The saplings had unwelcomed neighbors and we were to be the ones who would let them grow in peace. We were told to pull out any plant that was not cacao and to discard them in the walkways between the rows. Our first day of work we were only able to complete half of the task before we had to find refuge in a cooler spot because the sun was becoming our enemy. An average work day here in Tuzantan begins before the suns comes up, around 6:00 a.m., and ends before the sun becomes unbearable, around noon. The cacao nursery is about a twenty minute hike from our hosts. The path along the way passes rivers, cow pastures, and other houses. Back at the house we couldn’t do much more than swing in the hammocks we had strung up on their patio. Attempting to nap proved to be borderline impossible due to the increasing heat. One of the days we returned and actually bathed ourselves, shampoo and all, in the flowing river behind their house. We were adjusting as best as we could to the conditions and we gave much respect to the small children who told us that it wasn’t even hot. According to the neighborhood kids late February and March are a scorcher.

Lunch was always served at 2:00 p.m. and we were served different meals each day. The women of the household (mother, her daughters, and granddaughters) did all the cooking, cleaning, tending to the animals, and child care. The women also didn’t eat with us, they ate at a different table outside the kitchen and we sat with Juan at the table in the kitchen. Unlike in American culture eating time is not used for socializing. It was common to not speak a word during the meal, but immediately after a conversation would start up. The house had a very peaceful energy and everyone was extremely friendly, generous, and accommodating. We constantly asked where to put our dirty dishes or throw away our trash and they always refused to let us do even the most minimal tasks.

The minimum hourly wage in California for one hour’s worth of work is about double the average daily wage for many people in this region. Yet what the family lacked in financial assets they made up for in social capital. The respect given to the elders, the love and care shared by all to the youngest, the playing habits among the children had such a vibrant sense of sincerity that it made us feel like we were lacking something that they had. These people didn’t have much to give, but what they did have they offered. We expressed our gratitude for every meal, accommodation, comfort, and all the hospitality. We began to understand how it is to live as they do. The food eaten is simple but flavorful. The drinks are made from fresh fruit and the coffee unfiltered. We noticed that meals weren’t specific to times of the day and one morning we woke up early to find a bowl of fish soup with unshelled shrimp for breakfast. Sleeping arrangements were complicated since there were three of us and only one area for sleeping that fit two. I decided I wanted to be as outdoorsy as possible and let the girls share the bed and I slept in a hammock outside. They may have had slightly more comfortable bedding, but I got to sleep to the sound of the branches moving in the wind and the river flowing over rocks. Also, one day it had been raining for a good portion of the day Amber and Faith froze as they entered their room. A big hairy brown and black tarantula defied gravity and perched itself on their bedroom wall. Amber and Faith stared at the spider as the spider stared back with all of it’s eyes, who would make the first move, it was a standoff. When we called the women over about the spider they chuckled and mentioned that it was a small one and shooed it away with a broom. One day during our afternoon heat escape we chatted with one of Juan’s granddaughters, Elizabeth. She told us how old she was and proudly stated that she was going to be eight years old the next day, it was going to be her birthday! We enjoyed our casual chats with this outgoing youngster and wanted to get her a gift for her birthday. We asked everyone what would be appropriate and they said to ask Elizabeth herself.

We didn’t know if girls her age still play with dolls or if she would like some new clothes so upon asking she replied that she would love to have a backpack that rolls to bring to school with her. This was a surprise due to its utilitarian nature and we felt that getting her a backpack would be an honor. So, we took a taxi to Huixtla because nowhere in town sold backpacks with wheels. We found a vendor who specialized in backpacks and chose one that just felt right, it was black with white and red markings and had an animated girl depicted on the front. We also found a store that sold all their items for three pesos, so we loaded up her new backpack with school related things like pencils, markers, crayons, notebook, pencil sharpener, pencil case and a poster that showed the multiplication table.

There are many small children who play together where we were staying and we didn’t want to have them feel left out so we also bought ten bags of marbles to be distributed amongst all the boys and girls. When we showed up with the backpack and gifts little Elizabeth was all smiles and all her family watched as she discovered all the little additions we hid within the pockets. All the children excitedly grouped together and I showed them a few of the marble games I know.

The Sanchez family had opened their home and their hearts to us and we wanted to be able to reciprocate for all their kindness, we hoped this small token would in some way let them know how grateful we were for their hospitality. We were given an opportunity to not only see a lifestyle, but to experience it albeit shortly. We learned not only about them, but about ourselves. We were sad to say goodbye to our new friends, but by looking at my track record of visiting Chiapas it probably won’t be the last time we see them.